#Brews & Chews

[beingjellybeans]

Recharge for the holiday rush with Bo's Coffee at the SM Store, Araneta City

The holiday season is a whirlwind of activity – a hectic dance of shopping for gifts, preparing festive feasts, and organizing family gatherings. For moms, the month of October can be especially demanding as we juggle the demands of everyday life with the added pressure of holiday preparations. Amidst the chaos, a moment to pause and recharge is invaluable. Fortunately, there is a delightful…

[thezineontheblock]

a little more about Zombi~

lets see,..

I prefer pepperoni over extra cheese on pizza - too much cheese is never enjoyable on pizza, makes it too hard to chew the next day.

I love to brew herbal tea on stormy afternoons and nuzzle up with classic lit as the rain comes down in torrents outside the window,

and above all else, i love the odd chance of being able to strum Duchessa with her amp plugged in~

Its the simpler aspects of life I find the most endearing.

The softer moments~

[apocalypticgargoyle]

𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞: 𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘. 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐲!𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐥

edit by ☄️ anon GOD BLESS

Hi everyone! Sorry to do another speed round of edgy!Karl hcs but I have a bunch that are sorta similar so, please enjoy jealous edgy!boy :) 

Each section is divided off by a new request, hope you enjoy! 

warnings: blood, degradation, jealousy, todd not getting his redemption arc yet, fighting, mentions of alcohol, angst

hiii! i was wondering if you can make something like, Karl getting jealous at Todd, when y’all play spin the bottle with other people? if not that’s totally okay :) @boxxedlikeafish

You sat on the floor between Karl’s legs as a massive group formed around the coffee table in the center of the party, the bass of the music making you sway slightly. Karl’s hand settled into the crook of your neck, the coolness from his rings sending goosebumps across your skin. He bent to your level, to whisper in your ear. “I hope you get to make out with the frat president,” he mocked, making you nudge his leg.

You tilted your head up to him, lips barely brushing against his. “Why? You wanna watch me kiss your superior?”

He smugly looked at you. “It’s a power thing for me. You can kiss him all you want because I know how into me you are.” You bit your lip at his words, heat coursing through you. “Plus, if you get too out of hand, I can always remind you who you belong to,” he stated, teasingly grabbing your neck, making you giggle.

One of Karl’s frat brothers polished off his bottle setting it in the center of the table on his side. “Everyone give your verbal consent to the game, and please for the love of God, only use tongue a few times,” he stated, making the circle laugh as everyone agreed. You were always shocked at the size of the parties they threw, especially because of how many people showed up. Looking around the group, you knew most of the girls had wandered in on their own merit and not as guests of the Brothers. But who were you to judge?

A few turns passed before the bottle came to you. You leaned towards it, flicking the bottle to get a good spin on it before the end tilted and pointed directly at Todd. The crowd oohed and mocked like they had with everyone, people getting more and more buzzed as you got deeper into the game. You side-eyed Karl as Todd acted out lassoing you and bringing you towards him.

You played along, climbing into Todd’s lap dramatically before pressing your lips to his briefly. He tasted like cheap beer and stale weed, which only made you pull away from him quicker. He pretended to dig his face into your shirt, making you laugh and push his face away. You climbed off of him and moved to sit between Karl’s legs again; him leaning his elbows on his knees and digging his fingers into your shoulders. “Fuckin’, tease,” he grumbled, pressing his lips against your neck as the game continued.

First time making a request but all this joking makes me wanna see Todd included,,,, like readers got a bit of an exhibition kink and I can definitely see an extension on making him jealous...-🐇

Later in the night, Karl’s arms wrapped around your waist, dancing with you to the music thumping over the loudspeakers in the massive crowd of people. You looked to the side, feeling eyes on your shoulder before meeting Todd’s gaze, his sights tracing your body. Karl’s lips pressed against your neck, teeth threatening to nip at the skin.

You eyed Todd, tilting your head to give Karl more room. Your fingers drifted up his neck to run into his hair. Todd’s body seemed to tense slightly where he was standing in his entourage. His breath hitched as the two of you made eye contact, Karl’s fingers digging into your clothing.

You lost sight of Todd, focusing instead on the feeling of Karl’s body pressed against yours, the warmth from his breath cascading over your skin. Another body was added to the mix, hands resting on your sides before Karl pushed off whoever it was.

You turned, looking over your shoulder to see Todd laughing. “Can I join?” He asked, stepping toward you again.

Karl exhaled deeply, rolling his eyes at the man. “Don’t make me punch you again,” Karl grumbled to Todd, grabbing your hand and pulling you behind him before he lost his temper.

bestie i need something about todd getting too close to the reader and then karl gets jealous and gets in his face.... i need anything... headcanons... a side piece... crumbs -🌞

tw: blood, fighting

Karl moved to leave the room, brushing past Todd who gripped onto his shoulder. Karl squeezed your hand before letting go and standing up straighter. Todd smugly looked at Karl, eyeing you with a small wink as your eyebrow raised at the two. You hadn’t seen the two fight yet, but with the way that the other frat brothers were reacting, it seemed better to get out of the way when they got too close to each other.

“What’d you say?” Todd asked, voice barely audible as he tilted his head at Karl, who looked at him almost as if he was bored.

Karl cleared his throat, stature dripping with confidence and displeasure. “I said don’t make me fuckin’ punch you again, asshole,” he answered almost stoically. Todd chuckled darkly, crossing his arms.

He wet his lips. “Poor little, Karl. Can’t take a joke.” Karl blinked, rolling his eyes and continuing in the direction he was previously headed. You followed, practically seeing the steam roll off his shoulders. “Oh come on! Where’s the smart ass quip we all love you for?” Todd called after him.

You gritted your teeth as Karl turned lazily. “You wouldn’t get it anyway,” he answered plainly with a small shrug. He let out a small snort, leaning back on the balls of his feet. “Yeah, that big meat head’s just for show, isn’t it?” He mocked, making a few of the party-goers around you chuckle.

Todd chuckled lightly, taking a few steps closer to the two of you before ramming his head into Karl’s face. Panic shot through your veins as Karl took the impact, blood beginning to gush from his mouth and nose. You were pushed to the side as you swore you could see Karl smirking at Todd, spitting on the floor beside him.

Before you knew it, the sound of bone contacting bone rang through the air. Karl shook the pain out of his hand and bounced back on his feet, pushing the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows as he waited for Todd’s retaliation. Todd drew the back of his hand across his nose, mopping up some of the blood with his sweatshirt before lunging at Karl’s mid-section, taking the two of them to the ground. With a knee to the gut, Karl gained dominance against Todd, wailing on him a few times before someone pulled them apart.

The fight was over almost as quickly as it started and from the looks of it, Karl had taken the upper hand. As the two of you left for his car, he laced his fingers with yours, still amped up from the adrenaline. It began to rain lightly as he opened the passenger door for you.

Before you could slide in, his eyes searched your face, creased with worry at what’d you witnessed. He curled his fist into the front of your jacket, pressing his lips against yours. He tasted like blood and alcohol; the heat from his mind seemingly rolling into his kiss as if to tell you he cared for you but his frustration was almost unbearable.

okay so edgy!karl and you have a fight cause you pushed too far with flirting with todd. he gets angy and then he yells and you flinch?? demeanor changes and TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF LIKE TEETH ARE DEAD FLUFF - 🐓

tw: angst, fluff

The car ride back to your apartment was silent, leaving you fidgety as Karl’s hand rested on your knee. The action in the past used to insinuate a different meaning, but you could tell he was genuinely angry. You let one of your hands move to his wrist, thumb rubbing against his arm as if to tell him you were sorry, but his grip on the steering wheel only tightened as he bit his tongue. You were careful to avoid his bruising knuckles, discoloration beginning to settle in even though he didn’t show any signs of discomfort.

You yearned to know what was swimming through his head, your mind retracing your steps with Todd. You had only been joking around, mockingly kissing his cheek and wrapping yourself around his arm. In the past, it had usually sparked sexual tension between you and Karl (more than what already existed) so, why not play around.

You shut your apartment door behind the two of you, eyes watching carefully as he pulled off his wet jacket and hung it up on one of the hooks. You weren’t scared of him, you were scared of the fact that he was so quiet. He was never that quiet, so something was brewing on the horizon.

You chewed the inside of your cheek. “Can we talk about it now?” You mumbled, gaze focused on the view of his jaw tensing before he met your eyes.

“I don’t know why you fuck around with that prick,” he bit. “Do you not get that I literally hate it when you hang all over that guy when I’m right there.” He rolled his head on his shoulders, back popping slightly as if he’d been stiff before this conversation. “I’m not a jealous guy, really, I’m not. It’s just… him. It’s just Todd.”

You knotted your fingers together, eyes darting from his busted lip to the view of his hands. “I’m sorry. I thought we were like… I thought it was like a turn-on…”

He scoffed. “No,” he answered plainly. “It was funny at first because I knew you were joking and everything but... Jesus.”

“Karl, I wouldn’t ever-”

He cut you off, his voice raising suddenly in slight frustration. “That's not the point! I know that!” You flinched at the volume, shocking the two of you as his eyes softened, guilt pulsing in his irises. “I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“No, no. I don’t know why I flinched. I think you just startled me a little,” you quietly brushed, one of your arms crossing over your chest to grab at your elbow.

He stepped forward, his shoulders angling towards you before wrapping you in his arms, fingers weaving into your clothing. You inhaled his cologne deeply, digging your nose into the crook of his neck as he sighed apologetically. “Baby, I’m sorry.”

You pushed your hands beneath his dark sweater, pressing your fingers to the warmth of his back. “I’m sorry. I don’t know when to stop before I take a joke too far,” you muttered, voice muffled in his embrace. He pressed his lips against your shoulder; there was no way he couldn’t smell Todd on you, only making your gut twist in knots more, but he didn’t say anything about it. “I love you,” you mumbled.

“Oh, Jesus fucking Christ, TOO EARLY,” your roommate wailed from her spot halfway down the steps.

tag list: (to be added, follow this link :))

@mrwinemaker @madsbbg @idiotinnit @xxtakechancesxx @westyywifee @kiritokunuwu @theholycakehole @itgetsatadhazy @himbobimboeater @karlkitten @pluto-dizzz @twist3dtinkerbell @more-like-reyna @teenage0jealousy @deepestofwaters @honk-izzie-was-taken @froggyy06 @ghoulandghost @instabull @glowstick-cafe

[mono-mia]

𝒶 𝒻𝒶𝓋ℴ𝓇 𝒻ℴ𝓇 𝒶 𝒻𝓇𝒾ℯ𝓃𝒹 (ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴇᴡ)

𝚃𝚆: 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚝, 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚝.

𝙨𝙮𝙙𝙣𝙚𝙮 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙮 𝙖𝙨 "𝗔𝗱𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗻𝗲 𝗦𝗰𝗼𝘁𝘁" 𝗮𝗸𝗮 "𝗦𝗰𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗶𝗲"

𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙧𝙖 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙨 "𝗡𝘆𝗹𝗮-𝗜𝘃𝗼𝗿𝘆" 𝗮𝗸𝗮 "𝗡𝗶𝗹𝗲"

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘸𝘴

GOING TO SCHOOL felt abnormal, felt wrong in every nerve of my brain. In an essence, it was fucked up. I saw the news of the "accident", I saw the endless stream of posts dedicated to him, and I still went to school.

I don't know if it qualifies as an act of strength, an act of fraudulence, or pure, raw stupidity. In my mind, it was all in one: survival.

"Could you stop that? Seriously— no one would be suspicious if you would just quit the nervous chewing." Scottie released her bottom lip from between her teeth, "I feel it would be suspicious if I pretended everything was cool given the fact our chemistry teacher is dead." "Missing, he's classified as missing." I close my locker and walked with her to our shared period, A.P Government.

"Either way, to go around being calm, being normal, is pretty abnormal for a situation like this. If someone could still laugh, smile, while you were missing, I'd call that person either suspicious or an insensitive, emotionally unintelligent prick." We entered Mrs. Hastings's room, sitting in our usual spots at the back of the classroom by the window with the view of the parking lot.

"Fine, I'll amp up the somber just for you." Her lips dipped in a frown before steadying in a straight line.

• • •

𝙖𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙡 30𝙩𝙝

𝘴𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳

"Alright class- don't forget to do the study guide, it's not for a grade but it could really help some of you out! Have a great rest of your day!" Mr. Gutierrez, a well respected science teacher at Welles High School, dismissed his class- well all but one student.

"Oh! Ms. Parsons, would you mind staying back please?" It wasn't a question, it wasn't a mere ask or favor, it was a command, one that brewed raw fear inside of her. "Sure, Mr. G." She stayed put in her seat, locking her feet around the back of the front chair legs.

"Please, you know you can call me Manny when this door is locked." Her eyes drilled into the periodic table poster he, oh so conveniently, placed over the rectangular window for peeping eyes to see.

"You know why you're here right?" He loosened his tie, rolled up his crinkled cream sleeves, may have unbuttoned the first three notches on his polo dress shirt. "Actually I don't. I made it very clear that I can- I won't do this anymore." She was serious, even through the wavering of her voice, she meant every syllable.

"Is that so?" He placed his arms on her desk, etching closer to her face, "I don't believe you." In a swift motion, thanks to her being paralyzed by fear, her jaw was being toyed with by his calloused hands. Gripping and squishing her face, bringing it closer, his lips lay ghostly over hers.

"Your body, canela, adores me. You can't help but feel the goosebumps, the tightness, amor." Being the sadist he is, seeing the iridescent tears that brimmed her eyes brought a shiver of excitement. The pad of his thumb stroked the tears away as they cascade into his palms. He laid a feverish kiss on her puffed out lips, causing the cries of sickness.

"Here's what you are going to do for me, canela, you are going to have a wonderful time here, dry to pretty tears, and go on to your friend because I know she's lingering for you." He traced her jawline, "Can you do that for me?"

The soft whimpers wasn't going to suffice, "If you won't, I'm sure the blonde will." She couldn't bring herself to say she'll comply, instead she assumed position, praying for forgiveness while doing so. "You've always been so bright, canela, so, so smart." His hand gathered the wavy locks of hair into a ponytail, the other was shuffling with buckles before clamping over her lips.

"I'll make it quick and give you a tardy pass." He chuckled.

• • •

It made me sick, seeing all of those decorations on his door. Bears, pink and red balloons, cards, everything that one would give to another that they cherish, one that they love.

"Are you going to practice? Did they cancel it?" Scottie was beside me, a lot calmer than earlier, twisting her frosty locks around her index. "I don't know, I'll have to talk to Coach and see." "Be careful, if you do I mean." I turn to her with my brows furrowed and eyes squinted, "It's a rumor going around saying they were lovers." She rushed out of her mouth, causing an undeserving pang in my chest.

This day just gets more fucked up for me.

"I say take it with a grain of salt, I just heard it from Valencia in French." She attempted, albeit poorly, the backtrack and patch up her previous statement. "Given who he was, I'd believe her." We entered the bustling cafeteria, which didn't storm with gossip, but with melancholy. Oh how beloved.

"Do you wanna go eat in the car? I'm not about to deal with this." "You know they don't allow us to do that and it's okay, we can just tune them out." She grabbed my hand and led me through the sea of depressed (faux and actual) teens, those who mourn along with the ones who still maintain optimism. Lucky bastards.

I wasn't in the eating mood, but it didn't stop her from giving me an apple, "It keeps the doctors away," she says. "Do you wanna do something later? You know, to cleanse ourselves." "If you don't have practice later this week then sure, and I'm free all weekend now I'm positive Science Olympiad is canceled." She sent this smile my way, it held sarcasm, relief, but a shit ton of sadness.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-," Her hand went up, "If I didn't want to, I wouldn't have. I've made my choice, and I'm happy, ironically, that I did it with you." She meant it, her eyes always get glossy when she means something.

[arcanemoody]

It's 11:15am.

I’m in Chicago.

I’m drinking cold brew with almond milk vanilla creamer. 

Communication necklace: purple (half-dead battery)

Today’s mask: “Be Gay, Do Crime”

Did not sleep well last night. Washington was amped up and refused to sleep anywhere that wasn’t my head. There was a commotion around 5am and I finally had to go sleep on the sofa for a few hours. Glad I caught up on my sleep the rest of the weekend. 

Took my meds, ordered coffee and doughnuts for me and Rocket. Got most of the way dressed (maxi skirt, tank cropped university hoodie.

Anxiety symptoms: sound sensitivity is bad today, so is body dysmorphia (so much I haven’t even looked in a mirror yet today). Fatigue is less bad. No itches or constriction or overheating so far. No nail chewing or picking so far. Having some mild sensory reactions to smells -- Dritz Fray Check doesn’t ususally make me feel sick, but it is this morning as I work on my patches. 

Things I feel positive about (even though it’s hard): sewing. Coffee. Slow shifts at work. Watching Rabid between calls. Trolling my cousin’s racist father on FB. 

[disabled-queen-hc-blog]

john bday prompt! what if the boys give autistic! john many gifts and babey boi tries his best to show them he loves them,, bonus points if its low verbal john because hes Babey™

It’s the first year Queen has actually made a significant amount of money. So that year’s birthdays were filled with excess.

By the end of the party, John’s quite literally sitting in a sea of presents, having no idea what to do or say to say thank you. It’s so much easier to lavish people than to be the one lavished!! He has disney movies and beer brewing kits and speakers and god knows what else.

After crawling out of that ridiculously sized pile, he goes to each of the boys and says thank you, all awkward and shy because he’s never experienced this before.

He held the Fox and the Hound VHS in his hands as he approached Brian, not even sure of how to begin.

“How are you liking your party, Deacy?” Brian asked, a stupid party hat on his head.

“Is good. John likes the party. Um. Brian got me this,” he said, holding up the movie.

“Yeah! You said you loved the movie, yeah?”

“Yes. Made me cry. Uh. John just saying thank you. I think. Many presents. A lot. You got John toaster too. And telly antennae. A lot,” John said, unsure of where his thank you was going.

“Oh! Are your gifts overwhelming?” Brian asked, head tilted.

John nods, looking at his shoes. He got them shined for today.

Brian laughs softly. “I think we went overboard this year...Next year, we’ll go more conservative, okay? I’ll tell the boys.”

John nods again. He kind of misses presents consisting of just socks.

“For now, though, you want me to help you with your thank you’s?”

“I don’t know,” John said, which is code for, yes please.

The two of them approach an unwitting Roger, who sipped from a cup that most certainly didn’t have punch in it.

“John here has something to say to you,” Brian said, a comforting hand on John’s back.

“Too many presents,” John said.

Brian and Roger snorted. “No, the other thing, John!”

“Oh, yeah. Roger give John a Cinderella lamp and new boots. John saying thank you. It is so many,” John said, feeling it imperative to let everyone know he had too many gifts.

“You’re welcome, John. Those boots reminded me of those infernal suede platforms you always used to wear. Like ‘em?”

“Maybe.”

The 3 of them giggled.

“Well, he also wanted to say for next year, let’s pretend our wallets have holes in them again. He’s a bit overwhelmed as you can see,” Brian said, giving John’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. John chewed on his thumbnail.

Roger cackled. “Have fun relaying that message to Freddie,” were his parting words of wisdom.

It was true. The worst perpetrator of the materialist crime was Freddie who practically showered the bassist in gifts.

As John and Brian walked up to Freddie, John got cold feet.

“Maybe Brian tell Freddie later,” he said, almost hiding behind Brian, which wasn’t a difficult feat.

“Oh, c’mon. Freddie doesn’t bite. Most of the time anyways,” Brian said, tugging John along.

“Mr. Mercury. John as some words for you!” Brian announced, Freddie beaming when he saw the birthday boy.

“Oh darling, how is old age treating you? Enjoying everything?” Freddie said with a royal like wave of his hand, prancing over to John.

“John got too many gifts. Freddie got me amp and VHS and books and lot more. I saying thank you, I guess,” John said, letting Freddie hug him.

“And, he’s asking for us to tone it down next year,” Brian added.

Freddie looked at John frowning only for a moment before grinning. “I got carried away, didn’t I? Sorry, Deacy. I never had so much spending money before! Would you like me to return some things?” Freddie asked, squeezing John some.

John nodded. "Too many.”

Freddie laughed and kissed his cheek. “Humble as ever, John. Come, come, let’s go pick out the things you don’t want,” Freddie said, ushering John back to the retched pile.

Before walking away, John looked back at Brian and smiled. Brian gave him a thumbs up. 

Too many presents, but still, an awesome party. Not bad for turning 25.

[buckymcbuttfacebarnes]

a month is too long

summary: together bucky barnes and y/n must deal with feelings of love and loss

word count: 3142

a/n: its a sad one, but its sweet so strap in ladies. if yall have any requests pleathe send them my way

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You don’t know why you went to the diner of all places. You hadn’t been there in months. Three to be exact. Maybe you went because you knew it was where he would look for you first.

Whatever the reason, it served as a nice reprieve from the nasty weather outside. The door chimes when you walk in. You breathe in deep, the smell of freshly brewed coffee makes you relax. Your shoulders, unintentionally squared, relax and slump as you settle into your booth. The same booth you always used to sit in.

“What can I get for you, hun?” The familiar waitress pulls out a small notepad and her pen. You like the color of her hair, a bright artificial shade of red that matches the diner’s interior. You wonder if it’s intentional. You don’t ask. “Oh my gosh, Y/N! It’s you! I hardly recognized you, sweetheart, I haven’t seen you in months! We were startin’ to think you ran off on us and found a new diner. Is it gonna be the usual this morning?”

“Yeah, Donna. Same old, same old,” you answer kindly, fiddling with the band on your ring finger.

“All right, I’ll go get you some coffee and put your order in.” She lingers though, her lip twitches. She taps an acrylic nail on the table’s surface. Donna always kept them long. “Oh, goodness I almost forgot to ask,” her grin is wide and warm, you hate the sick feeling that rises in your throat as you anticipate her question, “How’s the baby doing?”

“He’s doin’ great,” you smile and nod.

She places her hand on her hip. Seeming to notice your apprehension she asks, “Hey, you alright, hun?”

You shake your head and wave your hand with a polite dismissal. “Oh, I’m fine. Just tired, baby kept me up.”

The box-dye redhead smiles knowingly, then touches a plump hand gently to your shoulder, wet still with the rain outside, “Take that coat off, will you? Don’t wanna catch a cold.”

You both look up when the bell that hangs above the door jingles loudly.

Soaked from the rain and angry, Bucky marches, boots squelching, to your booth. You couldn’t look away even though he was the last person you wanted to be seeing. Silence thick enough to cut through settles when he looks to Donna, it takes her a moment to realize that this is her cue to leave.

“Get up.” His voice is gruff, it makes your insides rattle. He doesn’t even look at you when he speaks, his eyes are flitting around the restaurant. “We’re leaving, we need to talk.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

His eyes are wild, light blue irises seemed clouded and foggy. He hadn’t slept last night, or maybe any night for the past month. A drop of water drips from his hair, pulled back from his face, onto his jacket.

His lips are set in a hard line, but he doesn’t say a word. Beneath the cold, hard planes of his handsome face you know that he is seething. He was always like this, an explosive temper, explosive everything. When he was happy everyone in the room felt it, when he was angry it radiated off of him like an unpleasant heat.

He grabs hold of your sleeve and gives you a warning look. You wonder if he was capable of yanking you up out of your seat. Would he drag you out of the diner and force you to talk to him? To hear him out? You weren’t willing to find out.

“Everything okay here?” Donna’s sweet voice interrupts your thoughts. In her hand is a steaming mug of coffee, she looks between the both of you. Brown eyes flicker back and forth warily.

In the stiff silence you look at Bucky, who reluctantly unfurls his fingers from their hold on your jacket sleeve. He steps back awkwardly, allowing space for the older waitress to lean in and place your mug gently onto the table.

She eyes him coldly before she turns. She glances back at you and sends you a look that seems to say: let me know.

Your voice is low when you speak, “You can sit the fuck down or get out, I don’t care which. But I’m not going anywhere with you, you understand?”

After a quiet moment of contemplation, he peels off his soaked outer shell and throws it haphazardly into the both before he slides in. He exhales loudly through his nose, reclines in the seat, he crosses his arms and allows his hands to settle comfortably in the warmth of his armpits. He wears a worn henley, one that he’s had for years and refuses to give up. A few times you had stolen it from his closet to keep for yourself. You liked the way it smelled (spicy and warm, it smelled like him) the way it hung on your body, stretched out and cozy from his wide shoulders and strong arms. He always stole it back from you.

Finally, for what feels like the first time this morning, he looks at you with those stormy eyes.

There you are, you think fondly. If it were another morning, a morning a month ago perhaps, you would have smiled and reached out to hold his hand across the table. Or maybe lean across the table to give him a chaste kiss. But it’s not a morning a month ago, it’s a morning now, and so you sit there and watch his cloudy gaze roam your face, searching.

You wonder if anyone else notices the ring of dark blue around his iris. Does anyone else notice that? The animalistic quality in his eyes. The way they dart around nervously, angrily. Daring anyone to challenge him. He sighs again.

“You know, I don’t think I’ll ever forget the day I met you.”

“What?”

You can’t hide your surprise.

“I won’t ever forget the day I met you,” he says again. His voice is shrouded in a softness that you hadn’t heard in a long time. “You remember don’t you? Here in this very booth—” runs his fingers along the red vinyl seat covering, gaze unwavering, “—I saw you. Just sitting here, plowing through cup after cup of coffee. And I thought: Man, what could a girl like that have to be so amped up about? What could you possibly need that much coffee for? And so I walked over and just asked you, cause I had to know doll. I just had to, I don’t know why.”

You remembered the way he had seemed to glide over to you. Hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, a cocksure smirk curled at his pink lips, half hidden by a neatly kept beard.

“And you remember what you said when I asked?”

You nod, your eyes flicker away, embarrassed by the memory.

“You said: Fuck off.”

Donna arrives with your plate of food. Four big slices of french toast and three slices of bacon half hidden by a pile of steaming scrambled eggs.

“Donna,” Bucky calls as she turns away. She is hesitant to turn back around, you both can tell. “Could you get me a cup of coffee, please?”

She turns her head and nods, her smile is sugary sweet, intentionally artificial. “Sure thing, James.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

She’d never really liked him. Always thought he was terribly too charming.

When she’s gone you look back at the handsome man that sits across from you. You find the sudden ease in his expression alarming. “I’m not in the mood for this.”

He thieves a piece of bacon from your plate and raises his brows: What do you mean?

You don’t indulge him and  his play at faux cluelessness. You know what he wants. He wants to get you to talk.

Neither of you like the silence, but the both of you are much too stubborn to be the one to break it. So you eat, chewing slowly and self-consciously. His eyes never leave you and you hate him for it. Your gaze flicks upwards for only moments at a time, catching his gaze. He watches you with a look that might be characterized as concern...worry. Maybe love. It was easy to confuse the two sometimes.

“Take off your coat, it’s wet. It’ll get you sick,” he orders harshly.

You do, but only because Donna had told you the same thing earlier.

He sips his coffee. You sip yours. He sighs, you swallow. When Donna returns to fill your mugs, you both thank her, then return to your silence.

He doesn’t speak again until you’ve finished eating.

“Can we leave now?”

“I told you I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“I haven’t seen you in three weeks. Three weeks, doll.”

His cheeks are pink and there is a pleading look in his eyes. Your son probably would have had the same look. The same eyes as his dad...maybe not the same color. But similar in a way that you could see his whole life through his eyes. The pain, the joy, the love, the melancholy. You wondered if you once may have looked into your son’s eyes and seen everything as you did with Bucky’s.

“I’m trying to give you space, but I can’t. You don’t get to just fucking drop off the face of the earth. Almost a fucking month,” he reiterates. “That’s too much time to go without seeing my wife.”

He is tired, he is exhausted. You see it in the scarlet bruises that have appeared beneath his eyes and in the downward curvature of his lips. You see it in the way he holds his shoulders squared and how his eyes flicker back and forth. You see it in the way he feigns relaxation and  coolness. You see it in the way his beard has grown long, the haphazard manner in which the hairs lie.

You hadn’t seen him in three weeks because you hadn’t wanted to. You went into hiding at your mother’s house, refused to see him when he showed up at the front door. But now, here he was and you wished that you hadn’t been so stubborn. Maybe seeing his face would have eased the ache in your stomach. You want to reach out and touch him. His lips, his face, his hands. But you can’t. You were too far away from him, cast out into an ocean unknown, there was no way to get back.

“Baby,” you hear him murmur, tugging you from your reverie. “Please.”

How could you say no to him when he was begging you to come back? When he looked so tired and boyish? When he looked like what your son might have looked like?

“Okay,” you finally say.

There are tears that shine in his eyes. He is so relieved.  “Okay?”

“Okay.”

When he tugs you down the sidewalk, you clasp his hand in your own as if your afraid you might get lost somehow in the city you’d lived in all your life. As if he might let you slip from his grasp and you’d be gone forever. It would be so easy for you to just slip away, part of you was already lost. A ghost of whatever used to be the rest of you had died almost a month ago.

“I don’t think I can go in.”

You don’t mean to cry like this, before you can even go inside. But you do. The tears are hot and they come down your cheeks in gushing streams.

Bucky reaches out, his flesh hand is rough against your skin, the other smooth and cool. His thumbs move back and forth soothingly over your skin. “Shh,” he murmurs.

You squeeze your eyes shut and reach for him, and he’s there, ready for you. His jacket is wet against your cheek. You can feel his breath fanning across the top of your head, gentle stuttering breaths that come slowly.

“Y/N,” he whispers, “Please.”

“I can’t, I can’t,” you shake your head.

“Look at me.” His voice grows hard, “Look at me.”

You know he doesn’t mean to sound so harsh, so you send your gaze upwards and look into his broken face. You almost shudder at the sight of him. You hate how weak it makes you feel. This was your fault.

His lip trembles, you wish you could kiss his melancholy away.

“I can’t lose you too,” his head inclines towards yours, and his forehead rests against yours. “I can’t.”

You swallow hard, you have to close your eyes because you can’t bear to look at him.

“Please—” his voice is just above a whisper, so quiet that you could barely hear him “—just come home to me.” His hands are on your face again, touching your cheeks and wiping your tears. “Look at me.”

When you open your eyes his brows are furrowed, face open and expectant.

“Please.”

You nod because you know how much he needs you. Because it’s written across his face and in his hands. His eyes glitter with a hope that makes them seem all the more somber. This was your fault.

You watch as he turns the key in the lock and opens the door. He lets you walk in first, trailing awkwardly after you. Both of you are unsure of how to act. How to walk around as if the place was your own again. So you just stand there. You can feel his eyes on you and it makes you feel worse.

Your eyes flicker to the coffee table, corners covered. Baby proofed. You didn’t need those anymore.

“I don’t want to be here.”

Your coat is still on.

His is already hung up by the door.

“This is our home.”

The sigh that leaves your lips is shaky, an attempt to hold back another spell of tears waiting behind your eyes. There is a silver rattle that lies haphazardly on the floor, probably his doing. You bend to pick it up, but the flinch away from it. You didn’t want it.

“I can’t stay here, Bucky.”

“Y/N—”

“Buck, don’t you get it? I can’t do this. I can’t be here with all this baby stuff, I can’t do it. It hurts so—”

“You think I don’t know that?” His voice is so loud, it sucks all the air out of the room. “You think I don’t feel that? Everyday, Y/N, every fucking day, I’m the one that’s here. I’m the one that sees the fucking rattles, the baby clothes, the stupid fucking child locks on our cabinets! I see all of it, you think I don’t feel that? What you feel? I feel it every day. I didn’t get to run away like you did. I don’t get to pretend that this didn’t happen to us, I live with it everyday—” his voice cracks and he heaves a quaking breath, willing himself not to breakdown, “—Just like you do. The only difference between me and you is that I don’t try to act like this didn’t happen to us. Like he didn’t happen to us. That was our son, you can’t just try to forget!”

“I’m not trying to forget him!” You shout. You could never forget. You would never forget. “I just don’t know what else to do, Bucky!” You hate how desperate you sound, like you’re pleading for him to believe you. “A mother...a mother is supposed to keep her kids safe, that’s her only fucking job and I couldn’t even do that for nine months! Bucky, I couldn’t even keep our baby alive long enough for us to even need the fucking child locks and the fucking baby proofing bullshit. How am I supposed to live with that?”

When he reaches out to you, you reel back as if you feel repulsed, but truthfully you just felt undeserving. It wounds him, but you can’t help it. You don’t deserve him.

There is a lump in your throat that you struggle to swallow around.

“But that wasn’t your fault! It wasn’t your fault, it’s never been your fault.” He looks crazed, as if his brain is reeling with all the things he could do to make you understand. There was nothing that would truly make you feel better except yourself. The day you stopped blaming yourself was the day everything would go back to normal. “You have to stop blaming yourself for this. And if not for you, then for me. What about me, doll? I need you! And you need me. You can’t keep trying to go through this on your own! It’s not going to get any better. Acting like it didn’t happen isn’t going to make things better. Acting like it didn’t happen won’t bring him back.”

He tries again to reach out to you and pull you against him.

“Don’t touch me!”

But you don’t fight him. You don’t have it in you. You let him peel off your jacket, letting it slide off your arms and onto the hardwood flooring. And when he hugs you, you go limp in his arms, but he holds you up as he always does. As he always has. And when you begin to cry again he lifts you up and brings you to your bedroom. He kisses your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, your lips. His hands move soothingly across your skin as sobs rack your body.

“I’m sorry I did this to us,” you whimper. It sounds so pitiful that you wish that somehow you could go back and time and figure out a way. A loophole. How could I bring him back?

“Stop blaming yourself for things that are out of your control,” he whispers back.

“I wish he was here.”

“Me too, baby.”

“He would have been handsome, like you,” you say after a long silence. Bucky has his hands on your back, legs entangled with yours. Bodies are perfectly intertwined, you feel so warm. You reach up to push your fingers through the coarseness of his unruly beard. Blindly you touch his lips, he kisses your fingertips. You feel his lips curl into a smile and you draw your hand back. Your chest blooms with a warmth that you hadn’t felt in a month. For the first time the pulsating ache in your head and heart seems to be alleviated. Just for that moment where he kisses your fingertips and one of his hands traces lines down the length of your spine.

“He would have been smart like you. Funny too.”

“You think so?”

“I do.”

The sound of his heart is just beneath your ear and you feel closer to Bucky than you ever have. You love him so much.

“I’m sorry I left you. I’m sorry I wouldn’t see you.”

He shakes his head, “You’re here now…Just stay, okay? Don’t leave me again.”

“I won’t.”

[forlornmelody]

Double the Trouble Chapter 12 --Gods and Monsters

Rating: Explicit (lots of smut, a bit of violence, and so much swearing.)

Ship: FemShep x Femshep Clone, Femshep x Kaidan, Femshep x Femshep Clone x Kaidan, OT3

AO3 Link: Here

Summary:  Finally approved to reinstall her biotic amplifier, Jane Shepard is ready to enjoy every aspect of her biotics and her relationships, but her partners have their own inner demons to deal with. 

Note: So much smut in this chapter. And a lot of feelings. 

Shepard leaves her therapy appointment buzzing with energy in more ways than one. She could almost cry right now, and her hand keeps touching the back of her neck to check that her amp is really there. It doesn’t even matter that her therapist still wants to keep seeing her, or that half her body is recovering slower than she’s like. Her biotics are back.

Not since the day Shepard enlisted and received her first amp has she toyed with them so much. First, she stirs the leaves of a nearby bush, then she pulls on a ball a man just threw for his dog to fetch. Shepard throws it back before they can register what happened. She casts a barrier over herself just so she can feel the energy. Really, she should slow down before her amp burns out, but she can’t help it.

Ideas buzz through her head, fantasies, even, of how those biotics will come in handy. Shepard bites her grin, itching to tell anyone and everyone about how alive she feels. There’s two people she needs to tell first.

Shepard’s so excited she passes right by the coffee shop. It isn’t until she reaches the abandoned gift shop two stores down that she realizes her mistake. Slow down, Shepard, she tells herself with a snigger.

When Shepard finally steps inside, she’s washed in the aroma of fresh brewed coffee. She finds Jane and Kaidan sitting at a table, and she flops in a chair at the table next to theirs. “You’ll never believe how awesome my day has--guys?” Both Jane and Kaidan look up at Shepard without a word. “Did I miss something?”

Jane looks down at her coffee mug, and Kaidan clears his throat. “It’s fine. We uh...we just talked about where we’re at, you know?” Kaidan puts on a brave smile and it breaks Shepard’s heart. She has a feeling she knows what happened.

Maybe today isn’t a good time to talk about another threesome. “Should we talk about it together, or separately?”

Jane chews her lip. “I need some time alone. Catch you later, Shepard?” She looks down at Shepard as she stands up, avoiding Kaidan’s eyes entirely.

Shit. This. This isn’t the afternoon Shepard expected. She reaches up, squeezing her clone’s hand. “Talk later, okay?”

Squeezing back, Jane nods before leaving. Shepard watches her go with a pang.

“Sorry, Shepard.” Kaidan rubs his face, with that shaking breath Shepard knows comes with tears her lover’s trying to keep inside.

Shepard moves so she’s sitting across from him. “What happened?”

Kaidan laughs once, humorlessly. “Never thought I’d be the one to move too fast.”

Nodding, Shepard reaches over, squeezing his hand. “She doesn’t feel the same way you do?”

Squeezing back, Kaidan sighs. “Yes? And no?” He groans. “She thinks I’m hot. Always has, apparently.” Shepard bites back a snort. “She just isn’t sure if she feels...anything else towards me.”

“And that’s important to you.”

Kaidan swallows, wiping at his eyes.

“Let’s get out of here, okay? So I can give you a hug without a table being in my way.”

 The moment the sky car takes off, Shepard pulls Kaidan into her arms. She shudders at the rush of their biotics intermingling, closing her eyes to focus on the sensation. Kaidan leans his head against her chest, letting out a long-held breath. His eyes snap open as he gasps. He jerks up so fast he hits Shepard’s chin.

“Ow.”

“Sorry.” Kaidan says quickly, looking at her with wide-eyes. “Is..that...are those…?” His mouth hangs open as he takes her in. Kaidan’s hand hovers at the side of her neck, itching to touch where her amp sits but waiting for permission like only a biotic would.

“My biotics?” Shepard grins, kissing him gently, giddy with excitement.

Kaidan kisses back, breathless, closing his eyes to focus on where her biotics stir with his. “Mm. You got your amp back.” He opens his eyes, and a small smile crosses on his face. “No wonder you’re so happy. Normally…”

“After my appointments I look like I could murder half of Vancouver.”

“Yeah. Something like that.” Kaidan smiles just a little bit wider when Shepard draws his hand back to her amp port and they both shiver at the jolt that travels down both their spines. “Shepard--”

“Don’t apologize, Kaidan. Your feelings are valid.” Shepard takes a deep breath, letting go of those daydreams she had on the way to the coffee shop. “And so are hers.”

Kaidan squeezes her a little tighter.

“What’s really bothering you about this?” Shepard pulls back, though part of her just wants to kiss his sadness away.

“I don’t know,” Kaidan says with a sigh. Shepard waits for him to continue, knowing it takes him a while to organize his thoughts. He grumbles, muttering his words under his breath. “It’s dumb.”

“Tell me.” Shepard traces her thumb across his five-o-clock shadow.

“.... Fine.” Kaidan snorts, looking away as his face reddens. “I’m afraid I’ll never be able experience love the way you do.” 

Shepard swallows her laugh, allowing herself a smile as she draws his gaze back to hers. “You’re right. And wrong.” She kisses his cheek. “Of course it’s a stupid fear. But it’s not stupid to feel fear.”

Kaidan mutters. “Sometimes I wish you’d feel fear more often.”

“Har har. But Kaidan.” She draws her thumb across the spot she just kissed. “No one can experience love the way I do. We all live life differently.”

“Yeah. I guess you’re right.” He leans his forehead against hers. “It still hurts to be rejected, though.”

“Yeah.” Shepard presses her lips together, trying to decide how to word her request. “Are you gonna be okay if I talk to Jane tonight?”

Kaidan looks at her. “You’re going to do more than talk, aren’t you.”

Shepard rubs her weak arm. “Yeah. Maybe. I don’t know.” Another breath. Funny how fiction never seemed to capture how challenging it could be to love more than one person. “Are you going to be okay with that?”

Pressing the heel of his hand into his forehead, Kaidan groans. “I need time, Shepard.” He grimaces. “But she probably needs you too, right now.”

Still easier than facing down a Reaper, right? “That bad, huh?”

Kaidan gives her a look. “Maybe.” Fidgeting, he finally blurts out, “Do you need me to watch? I don’t think I can. Not this time. Not now.”

“Is it still going to bother you if you don’t watch?”

“Probably. But that’s my problem. Not yours. Not hers.” He kisses her firmly. “Go talk to her. Do...whatever you need to. I’ll still be here when you’re done.”

“I love you, Kaidan. Nothing will ever change that.” She returns the kiss, squeezing him as tight as her injury will allow. For once, her bad arm cooperates, though weakly. Shepard wonders if he’ll notice.

“I know.” He squeezes her back. They sit there, content in each other’s arms even after the sky car lands at their apartment.

Shepard’s eyes snap open. “Shit.”

“What?”

“Where am I gonna talk to her? I can’t exactly kick you out of your own apartment.”

In the end, Shepard ends up using some of her medical leave money to book a hotel room for the night. The place just re-opened, so that civilians checking in on family would have a place to stay while they dug through the rubble. It’s better than trying to do this at Jane’s “apartment,” especially with how that went down the last time she tried.  Shepard meets her at the bar downstairs, sitting at a booth where they can get a little privacy. “Hey stranger.” 

Jane sips at her bloody mary. “Hey yourself.”

Shepard sips at her glass of whiskey. “Is now a good time to talk about Kaidan?”

Jane fiddles with her straw. “A good time as any, I guess.”

“What happened?”

“Did he tell you?”

“Well yeah, but I want to hear it from you.” Shepard reaches over, squeezing her hand.

Jane grimaces. “I’m not good at this stuff, Shepard.”

Shepard nearly argues she is but decides that won’t help. “What makes you say that?”

“I’m not even human. I’m a fucking monster. A hot one, apparently, but still a monster.” She slams the slice of celery back inside her glass so hard some of the beverage splashes out. Jane glares at it like it’s proof of her argument.

Taking a bigger gulp of her drink, Shepard forges ahead. “Did Maya tell you that?”

Jane’s eyes flash blue, and the hairs on both their heads stir with her fury. “She didn’t have to, Shepard.”

“What? Because you’re a clone? Arguably, I’m not human either. I’m practically half-synthetic.” Jane’s hand slips from hers and Shepard balls hers in a fist.

“That’s not the same thing. You were born. I was flushed out of a fucking vat.”

Jane’s voice is rising, and so is hers. They should both keep their voices down, but Shepard is tired.  She’s so fucking tired. “What’s this really about, Jane?” When Jane doesn’t answer, Shepard answers for her. “Is this about that tattoo?”

Jane stares at her hard. “You don’t get to ask me about her.”

“So it is a her.” Shepard chugs some water, nearly slamming the glass against the table. “I’m guessing this my fault somehow?” So tired. For once she would like to spend the day without thinking of how many lives she’s ruined by trying to save a few.

Licking her lips, Jane narrows her eyes. “Rana Thanoptis. Remember her?”

Shepard sits back. “Yeah. Scientist with questionable ethics and a bad habit of working with the wrong people. Why?” What’s Thanoptis have to do with any of this?

“She’s the one who crafted my implants and installed them.” Jane snaps her celery in half, but she doesn’t eat it. Instead she keeps breaking it up into smaller and smaller pieces until there’s a pile of mush on the table. “She’s the reason I trained in biotics with other Asari on Heyetiana. She’s the reason I met Dreya.” Shepard mouths the name, committing it to memory as she sees tears prick at Jane’s eyes. “She’s the reason Dreya’s dead.”

“....Thanoptis bombed a research facility.” Shepard says quietly, recalling the ANN report she read in one of her emails. “Dreya was a military official?”

“No,” Jane snaps. “Our class was visiting on a field trip when the bombs went off. The glasses on the table rattle with her anger.

Shepard woodenly uses hers to keep the glasses from flying off and hurting someone. She’s afraid to hear the answer, but she asks anyway. “What does this have to do with me?”

“Twice you ran into Thanoptis. Twice you let her walk away.” Tears fall readily down Jane’s face, and she shakes nearly as much as the glasses did.

Swallowing, Shepard allows her words to sink in. Her throat feels thick. “I didn’t know she was indoctrinated.”

“So her working for Saren, and committing treason wasn’t enough for you? Or helping a mad scientist funnel out cannon fodder for some merc boss?”

Shepard feels so small. “It wasn’t my call to make.”

“You’ve killed mercs for less. Maybe if she was Cerberus y--”

“Shut up.”

“Why? Because I’m right?”

Looking her straight in the eyes, Shepard answers. “Because nothing I can say will bring Dreya back.” She slams the rest of her whiskey back, heading to the bar to pay their tab.

“Where’re you going?” Jane follows her, leaving her cocktail behind.

The bartender nods at them, shaking from his spot beneath the counter. “Please leave.”

Shepard leaves him an extra-large tip. “I booked a room, remember?” She looks over her shoulder. “I gave Kaidan the apartment to himself for the night. I’m not taking that away from him. Room 303. Or head back to HQ. Your choice.” This time, Shepard doesn’t wait for her answer as she closes the elevator behind her. 

 Kaidan would probably be upset if he saw the bill--a whole bottle of whiskey to go along with her large pizza and her tub of ice-cream. Kaidan isn’t here, however, so Shepard plops down on the couch with them anyway. Add her therapist to the list of disappointed, if not angry people. It seems she can’t do anything without pissing someone off. Too bad. Shepard meant to enjoy tonight, and fuck if that’s not what she’s gonna do. She’s partway through her bottle and partway through some stupid horror vid when she hears a knock at the door.

Dropping her half-eaten slice of pizza, Shepard manages to set down her bottle. She heads for the door, raising a glowing fist as she reaches for the latch.

The glow vanishes when she finds Jane on the other side, with a tote bag hanging from her shoulder. “Oh. Hey. Didn’t expect to see you.”

Jane pushes past her, eyeing the mess on the couch, before eyeing the mess of the woman in front of her. “Clearly.”

“Want some?” Shepard sways a little on her feet.

“You’re drunk, aren’t you.” Jane picks up the bottle, eyeing how much has vanished from its contents.

“Buzzed.”

“Mmhm.” Jane sets the bottle down, stalking back towards the door. “Shepard,” she says firmly as she locks the door, “I want you to burn it off.”

“The alcohol? Why?” This is the best (or least) she’s felt all day.

Jane puts her hands on either side of Shepard’s head, leaning in close. “I’m not fucking you when you’re drunk.”

“You’re gonna...oh.” Shepard swallows hard as she throws up a barrier. Her biotic metabolism takes care of the rest. “Are you going to make me say the alph--mmm.”

Jane’s lips are hot and heavy on her lips. “Better,” she murmurs before stealing another kiss, this time with teeth.

Shepard runs her fingertips along Jane’s undershave and grips her hair where it grows long enough. She kisses back in earnest, so lost in her warmth that she nearly forgets their fight. Her tongue has found its way into her clone’s mouth before she remembers herself. Barely managing to tear herself away, Shepard asks breathlessly, “Aren’t you mad at me?”

Also breathing hard, Jane narrows her eyes. “Does it matter?” She grips the end of Shepard’s tank top. “You didn’t seem to mind the first time we fucked.”

Oooh, but that image doesn’t help keep her lust in check. Ravished in the shower and ravaged in her bed, held in place by Jane’s biotics she-- “Shouldn’t we talk about this?”

“I don’t want to talk.” Jane kisses down her neck, feeling up her shirt. “I want to fuck.”

“I do too, but not like--” Shepard groans as Jane grounds her groin against hers. “--this.” She swallows hard.

Jane groans too, but it’s out of frustration, not longing. “I already told you I’m not good at that stuff.”

Even though she’s out of shape, Shepard grips her shoulder, holding her back. “And you’re lying.” Before Jane can protest, Shepard continues. “You’re better than you give yourself credit for. You’re just afraid to be.”

Shaking underneath Shepard’s hand, Jane’s eyes water. “Don’t.”

“You’re wrong, you know.” Shepard reaches over with her weak hand, missing a few times before she manages to caress Jane’s cheek. “You’re not a monster.”

“What makes you say that?” Jane speaks low, her voice thick.

“Your anger over Dreya proves you care.” At the mention of her name, tears slip down Jane’s cheeks. Shepard clumsily wipes them away. “You have a soul just as much as the rest of us do.” She lets go, finally, looking at the floor. “I’m sorry about what happened. There isn’t a moment where I question everything I’ve done.” Legion and EDI flash through her head, and Shepard feels a pang in her chest. “Where I wonder what happened if I’d done things differently.”

“You’re not God, you know.” Jane wipes her eyes and nose, sniffing.

Shepard snorts. “Yeah, I know.” She traces the edge of Jane’s jaw. “We’re good?”

Jane sighs, resting her head on Shepard’s shoulder. “I’m still angry, but not at you.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” But Jane takes her hand, leading her to the couch anyway.

“I gotta confess, I’m not really good at this either.” Shepard sits down with her, squeezing her hand.

“Now who’s lying? Miss-I-Can-Befriend-Anyone-And-Spill-Their-Secrets-With-A-Gun-In-My-Hand?”

“Har har.” Shepard clears her throat. “So. What would have happened if she lived?”

Jane sighs shakily, staring at the window behind Shepard’s head. “We were planning on going to Sanctuary.”

Oh fucking hell. “Jane--Sanctuary isn’t--wasn’t--”

“It was a Cerberus shell, I know.” Jane squeezes back fiercely. “Guess we’d both be dead if Rana hadn’t killed her.”

Shepard kisses the top of her head. “Or you both would’ve torn the place apart and saved me the trouble.”

“Ha.” Jane swallows, eyeing Shepard slowly. “Dreya would like you, I think.”

“Glad to know someone does.”

Jane swats her, crawling into her lap. “So... if we’re not still fighting, does that mean I have to be gentle?”

Shepard swallows, leaning back into the cushions, pulling Jane down with her. “Be as rough as you want.”

Her clone’s eyes darken with want, running her hand down Shepard’s chest to between her legs. “As rough as I want?” she repeats.

A thrill races through Shepard, and her mouth waters. “As rough as you want.”

Next thing Shepard knows, she’s being lifted biotically, and tossed onto the bed across the room. “Oof.” She lands in a heap, and Jane isn’t far behind. Shepard starts to sit up, but Jane grabs her shoulder.

“Stay there.” Jane pushes her shirt up, kissing up her stomach to her chest.

“Mm.” Shepard helps, putting one arm up, and nearly getting the other up. Before she can complain, Jane’s teeth graze her collar bone. “Nng.”

Jane’s breath is hot against her ear. “Too much?”

Shepard arches into her touch. “Keep going.” She manages to gasp. Jane bites her ear lobe, working on Shepard’s sweats. The N7 stripes ripple as she pulls them off. Underneath she finds briefs with the N7 logo on them.

“Really?”

“Hey. I worked hard to wear that logo.”

“Yeah. You worked hard for me to take it off.” Jane drags her nails down the path she kissed before, just hard enough to leave a mark, but not hard enough to bleed. Shepard shudders at her touch. Lingering with her fingers along the hem, Jane licks her lips, watching Shepard watch her. “Wet already, Shepard?”

“Guess I like you.” Then those fingers dip beneath the fabric, slipping and sliding against her clit. Shepard swears. “Stop teasing me.”

Jane’s eyes flash, and a stream of biotics ripple down her arm. “Who’s teasing?” Shepard’s hips rise into her hands as she wails. “Hold still.” Pushing her hips back down, Jane slips two fingers inside her, her biotics still shaking her apart. When Shepard stops writhing, Jane leans down to bite her neck. “Tired already?”

Shepard grins sluggishly. “Never.” She reaches down towards Jane’s pants and tugs them down. Her eyebrows rise to the ceiling when she finds a harness underneath. “Damn. You got something special planned?”

“Maybe.” Jane eyes her, shucking her pants off. “If you’re up for it.” She chews her lip, fingering one of the straps.

“With you, always.” Shepard sits up, kissing her neck, sucking on her skin hungrily as she tries to catch her breath.

“Hold on.” Jane pushes her away. “I gotta get my dick out.” Shepard falls back against the sheets in laughter. “Keep laughing,” she calls back heading back to the couch where she left her bag. Pulling out a long box, she carries back to the bed. She removes the lid reverently, setting it on the edge of the bed, taking out a black dildo with gold engravings.

Shepard whistles. “That had to cost a lot.”

Jane inserts the didlo into her harness until it clicks into place. “I wouldn’t know. It was a gift.”

Licking her lips, Shepard manages to ask, “From Dreya?”

“No.” Jane crawls onto the bed like a panther stalking its prey. She gently shoves Shepard back onto her back. “Now quit talking and put that mouth to good use.” Kneeling over Shepard’s face, she brings the dildo close to her mouth. “Hit the mattress twice if it’s too much or too hard or--”

Shepard’s lips seal around the dildo, pulling it into her mouth. Jane thrusts awkwardly, and Shepard grins, guiding her hips into a rhythm as she squeezes her ass. “Mm,” she says, closing her eyes as the strap-on bumps against her clit. She pushes a button at the top, and the vibrating function turns on.

“Mm-mm.” Shepard slaps the mattress twice, and Jane tries to hide her disappointment as she turns the vibrator off. Waiting a beat, Shepard winks at her with glowing eyes, before she wraps her hand around the base.

“Aww fuck,” Jane hisses, pinching her eyes shut as Shepard’s biotics rush down the shaft. Shepard snickers, teasing her until she pulls out. “Jesus Christ.”

“Sadly, not.” Shepard wipes the drool from her mouth, only to squeal when Jane flips her over. She rests on all fours as Jane fiddles with the box again. A condom wrapper rips and the cap of a lube bottle flips open.

“Ready for me, Shepard?” Jane scratches down Shepard’s back.

“God, yes.” The strap on slides into her easily, and Shepard can’t help but gasp as it bumps her deep inside. “Fuck.”

“That’s the plan.” Jane grips her hips, snapping into her more steadily than before. Oh, and it feels so good. So sharp, so hard, so….

Shepard moans desperately as Jane retaliates with her own biotics, and Shepard’s world flares like a supernova. Her clone moans with her as she finally pulls out, sinking down to her side. When she finds herself again, Shepard turns over. “That was amazing.”

“Thank you.” Though not as sated as her partner, Jane looks more peaceful than ever. Shepard can’t help but kiss her as she finagles her out of her harness, tossing it off the bed.

“C’mere,” Shepard mumbles into her lips, finding her clit with her fingers. Jane gasps against her lips, and Shepard grins, drinking in her cries. No, never a monster.

[fly-pow-bye]

Powerpuff Girls 2016 - “Witch’s Crew”

Written by: Haley Mancini, Jake Goldman

Written & Storyboarded by: John West, Angela Zhang

Directed by: Nick Jennings, Bob Boyle

Boo! It's the Fly! Pow! Bye! Spooktacular!

On this dark and not-stormy-until-someone-says-"how can things get worse" night, Princess is readying a magic spell at a place that may or may not be her house. Apparently, Princess is the Magica De Spell of the Powerpuff Girls universe, who knew? I always had a feeling that certainly PPG 2016 plots seem to be made willy-nilly, and then they just put in whatever character they feel fits the most. This was definitely true of The Squashening, and this concept kind of makes me feel the same way.

I could even see some sort of alternate universe plot where this takes place in some sort of fairy-tale kingdom, like that one Looney Tunes where Yosemite Sam is suddenly a knight with a pet dragon guarding a magic sword. If that fairy tale kingdom is the same one from Once Upon A Townsville, it's probably for the best that it is not.

I guess from all of the magical smoke in the air, the Powerpuff Girls show up to stop her from practicing black magic without a license. See, they decided to justify why the Powerpuff Girls are going to prepare to beat up Princess, since she's technically not doing anything wrong by trying to improve herself, so they pull out this excuse out of thin air. I'm surprised there's even any justification; previous episodes were happy without one.

Also shocking from this show: the Powerpuff Girls apparently decided to skip Halloween this year, as they're still in their ordinary clothes. Maybe they think they're popular enough to where they can just dress up as themselves for Halloween. Or maybe they just didn't bother when 80% of the episode won't have them in them.

One character sure still does the Halloween tradition, though: Discount Jojo. The real Mojo Jojo would be taking over the world with a death ray that happens to be powered by children's candy. We don't even get that justification; he just wants candy just like an 80's one hit wonder and/or Shaq defeater. Specifically, he wants black licorice. He would not even need the ray gun if he tried that at my house. That is, if I even had that vile weed.

Princess disagrees and most likely lies about not having any candy, and Jojo responds by pulling out his ray gun. The good news is that Princess just happened to have a mirror that reflects the ray. This causes this apparently rubbery ray to bounce across the room until it hits the vat, drowning the room in "magic stuff".

As soon as Princess awakes, she finds out she became an ugly ogre that can burp fire. Discount Jojo gets the rawest end of the deal, as he only turns into an ordinary cat. A talking cat, but we never really confirm if it's one of those Wild Thornberries type situations where only Princess can understand him. One thing we can understand is that the Powerpuff Girls get new costumes after all.

Specifically, these color-coded witch costumes. While Princess and Jojo kept their personalities and general lack of morality, the Powerpuff Girls are fully evil, and are ready to cause mischief with their newly gained evil magical powers! They still seem to have flight and super-speed, right down to the contrails, but they now just shoot beams out of their hands and anything can happen.

Princess has to reverse this spell, and thankfully, her spellbook just happens to have the exact ingredients to reverse this situation, right down to who has what. For example, the first ingredient, which she gets immediately, is one of Discount Cat's whiskers. Apparently, this curse seems to guarantee. Of course, Princess is doing this for selfish reasons; she just wants her old, beautiful body back! Turning the Powerpuff Girls back into heroes that can be beaten by ordinary rope is just the unintended side effect of that.

It's not just because they had very little personality to begin with, but because they may have asked themselves what would each Powerpuff Girl do if they lost their morality and got magical powers. Here, Witch Bubbles is stealing all of the kid's sweets with her new magic, because she's usually the sweet one. Well, not always, but I think that was the theory.

According to her book, her second ingredient is a pigtail from Bubbles. What if the girl she accidently transformed into a witch didn't have her hair in pigtails? We'll learn later that this is pretty much random.

While she figures out a plan, she gets interrupted by a boy in a chicken costume. He asks this person with a great and scary costume where Elm Street is. The joke that is Nightmare on Elm Street exists. She then burns him with some orc fire by complete accident, and he runs off crying. Clearly, this will lead somewhere, but I'm not sure if it is going to be anywhere good.

Princess uses a trail of candy to lure Bubbles to a giant wrapped gumball. The Ogre Princess confronts her and challenges her to a bubble-blowing match. Bubbles blowing bubbles, I think that may be the idea here. Bubbles ends up overdoing it.

The next ingredient on the list is a toenail from Buttercup. Well, she’s screwed; the Powerpuff Girls don’t have toenails. She gets a pretty good hint on where to find her, as she finds tons of tiny Mayor clones running across the neighborhood. Hey, Tom Kenny needed to have his paycheck justified somehow. Witch Buttercup has been going around trick or treating, and turning everyone who didn't have a treat into a tiny Mayor clones. Apparently, Townsville has a lot of houses that give out toothbrushes.

Princess needs an idea to take on this monster, and she needs the book to figure this out.

Immediately after saying she needs the book, she uses it to whack Buttercup on the head. Again, this is fitting, because Buttercup seems to be the Puff that punches people far more often than the other two. Not that great for the whole series, but I get it. I guess you can not prove that she also got orc-like strength from that magic brew, and witches aren’t known for their resilience to bludgeoning.

She then decides to extract the toenail while she's knocked out with a chainsaw. We certainly did not need to be reminded of that commercial that also involves an ugly creature lifting up someone's toenail. Apparently, someone on the crew agreed, as we don’t get to see where Princess could find a toenail on a toeless character design. This all happens off-screen.

We do get to see Discount Jojo-Cat puking into his hat...and putting it back on his head without realizing what he has done. This may explain a lot if this is his normal procedure with puking. We do get to see said toenail once it is extracted, complete with a scream sound, but I already did enough damage by reminding you of that commercial.

Speaking of hate, uh oh, that kid she accidentally burned got an angry mob to go after Princess! They sure love those angry mobs! Clearly, she's going to be chased all the time, hated by even the people she thought loved her.

Or, she can just hide in a bush in a forest, and the angry mob just runs right past it, never to be seen again. Subplot over! Unfortunately for Princess, Discount Cat is stuck in a tree, leaving her all alone in the dark black forest. Even worse, it starts raining just as soon as she says that nothing can get worse. See, I wasn't lying in the beginning. While other shows would make fun of it, this show uses the cliche as straight as humanly possible.

Speaking of cliches, Princess starts to lament about how this was all caused by her want for "beauty, power, and riches", and now she lost it all. Didn't she already have riches? It could be commentary about how the rich just love to get richer.

She sees a cottage nearby, and randomly says that it isn't a five-star hotel just to remind you that this ogre is supposed to be Princess Morbucks. This cottage is owned by a kind old lady, who happened to have really poor eyesight so she couldn’t see the horror before her.

While the old lady is comforting this ogre, she tells her a story about her past that, in no way, is supposed to remind Princess about her evil ways. She used to be this super rich person who lived in a big city, until her greed angered a witch. The witch cursed her to be poor. Princess assumes this made her really angry, but the old lady subverts her expectations by saying it made her happy! She learned that she didn't need beauty, power, or even riches to be happy!

Yeah, that Bat Boy impression is pretty fitting. Once she hears this, she faints.

She wakes up, only to be tied up in ordinary rope over a boiling pot. If buildings-full-of-people-strength can't bust through that, orc-like strength has no chance. Turns out, the old lady was going to cook her as the main course in her "ogre stew"! I guess since Princess is now the heroine of this story, she gets to be the damsel in distress, too. That isn't the only twist, either.

Blossom: You’ve been tricked to be the treat!

The Reboot Puffs just can't think of any other Halloween puns, can't they? Yeah, that old lady was Blossom this whole time. Unlike some other twists this show has done, there are some hints to this:

She wore pink. That's a good tell.

The glasses made her look like she had bug eyes, just like the bug eyed freak that her real form is.

Blossom is the only one of the three that want her to see the light (i.e. see that money isn't everything) in more than one episode.

I could see Blossom doing this even without the evil brew corrupting her mind. Well, aside from wanting to eat Princess alive.

Thankfully, this heroine does get a man to save her! Well, a cat who used to be an evil ape, but still a male cat who used to be an ape. Discount Cat jumps out of the window and causes the second vat of green water to fall in this episode, this time with his body instead of a ray gun. Blossom-Witch doesn't follow Wizard of Oz rules, but she does get knocked out so that she can grab that ribbon.

She has to get to the house quick, and grabs one of the witch's brooms that happened to be lying around. She specifically refers to the room she has to go in as "the house", I'm still not sure if it is Princess's, or if Princess decided to go into some random witch's house to do all of this Magica De Spell activity.

This Princess chase scene isn’t anywhere near as good as the one in the Christmas special, but that's kind of a foregone conclusion. Of course, I'm talking about the real one, not the Generic Tree Lighting Day one. How can she manage to beat these girls who may still have super-speed in a race?

Tree Punch, Witches Down, womp womp. Well, I guess that’s to be expected from the Reboot Puffs, even if they’re supposed to be evil witches; the Reboot Puffs can’t escape their penchant for failure. Also, Buttercup should get those eyes checked out.

She makes it, and throws in all in the apparently self-filling vat. Magic! Discount Cat raises a point that Princess has to give something related to her, too, such as her crown. Princess has to think about it for a minute. Considering what happens later, it would have been a good scene for her to throw some sort of Burger King crown instead.

She relunctantly throws her real crown in, and then frantically has to chant the reversal spell. The Witchy Puffs show up, but the curse gave them Stormtrooper-caliber aim! Maybe Princess's curse made them nearsighted, too, just like Blossom's story. Nothing in the episode disproves that, especially the tree scene!

After completing the spell, the Powerpuff Girls are back to normal. It even had the courtesy to regrow Bubbles’ hair and Blossom’s bow. I would not say it regrew Buttercup’s toenail, because she shouldn’t have toenails in the first place.

Jojo's back to his discounted ape self, too. Because the puking scene wasn’t good enough, we get to see Discount Jojo coughing up a hairball. However, the spell to change everyone back turned out to be imperfect, because Discount Jojo’s is missing a little piece of his cape! Well, either that or it's just another aspect of the curse Craig McCracken indirectly put on this show.

Princess: All that time as an ugly ogre, I’ve learned that inner beauty...

Oh look, she may learn a lesson after all, prove that she is just a one dimensional villain!

Princess: ...is for CHUMPS!

Oh, reboot! I thought you were going to be like a real show for once! If they really want to turn Princess into this good person, why can’t they just do it without these cop-outs? Princess ends up praising herself for becoming her beautiful self once again.

Though, in a karmic twist, this spell gave Princess a tail. She didn’t have in her ogre form, so I can just assume the spell did it. The Puffs and Jojo decide not to tell her about it. They can also not tell her about all those Mayor clones that are now running around Townsville. As this episode proves, continuity is for chumps, too.

Does the title fit?

A singular witch could have a "crew" of other witches, and Blossom is supposed to be a leader.

How does it stack up?

Out of all the Halloween episodes, I can argue that this one is the best of all of them. That is not that much of a contest, though. Squashening had a decent ending, and Midnight At The Mayor's Mansion was just a wreck through-and-through. This one at the very least had a decent idea, switching around villains and heroes, and the execution isn't too terrible. Above average for the reboot, really.

Of course, the plot could still use some work. The ending is a particular sore point with me. There was no reason why Princess needed to stay evil besides she has to be. Poorbucks has proven she could still be evil even if she gets a soft spot, and it's kind of sad we'll never see that again.

All in all, not as bad as black licorice. At least, to me anyway.

Next, we go from Halloween to Generic Tree Lighting Day 2...Christmas?!

← Small World: Heart to Heartstone (Part 4) ☆ The Gift →

[peonyoak81]

Physical Fitness For Your Way Of Living.

Way Of Life Health And Wellness & Physical Fitness Collection.

Content

Group Exercise.

Essential Educating Variables.

Pilates Vs Yoga: The Differences And What'S Right For You.

Just How Do I Produce My Own Workout Plan?

Slope Strolling Vs Running.

Noom.

Team Workout.

Nonetheless, the adverse impacts of adding harmful active ingredients like artificial lotion as well as sugar surpass these favorable results. However, commercially made pizzas also occur to be really undesirable.

Crucial Educating Variables.

They're located in some margarines and also spreads as well as likewise frequently contributed to packaged foods, but many food producers have actually stopped utilizing them. Though losing 20 extra pounds can feel like a major difficulty, it can be done rapidly and safely by making a couple of straightforward adjustments to your diet plan and way of life. Strolling, running, leaping rope, rowing and also boxing are some simple and satisfying cardio workouts that can amp up weight-loss. Cardio, also called cardiovascular exercise, is a type of physical activity that enhances your heart price and helps enhance your heart and lungs. Staying responsible to your weight loss objectives is key to long-lasting success.

If you implement a handful of these pointers, you'll be well on your method to your weight reduction goals. Whey protein is readily available at the majority of health stores and also online. If you experience subduing cravings and also can not appear to curb your eating despite exactly how tough you try, you may suffer from dependency. Studies reveal that inadequate rest is one of the best risk variables for obesity, as it's connected to an 89% enhanced risk of obesity in children as well as 55% in adults.

Obtaining sufficient exercise is additionally an important consider keeping your digestive tract habits regular. You might see that you poop more frequently when you start an exercise routine.

Pilates Vs Yoga: The Distinctions And Also What'S Right For You.

If a customer purchases a little training bundle of 4 or 6 sessions, you will get paid much more per hr, yet you will certainly need to work tougher after just a couple weeks to encourage them to get once again.

Think about providing workout and also meal plans that have been customized to your clients' one-of-a-kind needs and also fitness goals.

Fitness centers have a tendency to offer members a reduced rate per session if they buy a huge package, know that this might impact your hourly rate by a few bucks.

Big bundles of 24 or 36 sessions are fantastic, due to the fact that you understand you have that customer hooked for a number of weeks.

You have actually confirmed yourself enough that your credibility and also organization are based on recommendations.

When you have actually brought in clients, your per hour income will be established by the sort of plan they purchase from you.

Think about signing up with personal trainer online forums or LinkedIn health and fitness groups, so you can discover what methods have helped others.

In addition, the diet regimen includes a brew called "wonder soup," which is an appetizing, low-calorie veggie soup having cabbage, tomatoes, celery, pepper, and carrots. Individuals can consume marvel soup as a treat to suppress hunger pains till their following dish. Unsaturated fats, such as those in salmon, avocados, and walnuts, aid improve cholesterol as well as likewise supply various other health advantages. Efficiently adopting some or every one of the techniques and way of living goals gone over in this write-up will absolutely aid you shed the extra pounds around your midsection. You can find 5 free apps/websites to track nutrient as well as calorie consumption on this web page.

How Do I Develop My Own Workout Plan?

Consuming water with dishes can likewise maintain you really feeling full, decreasing your appetite and consumption. According to one research in 14 adults, consuming alcohol 16.9 fluid ounces of water boosted metabolism by 30% after 30-- 40 mins.

Incline Walking Vs Running.

Fortunately, making use of a mix of proven strategies can streamline and also accelerate fat burning. Fiber can also be a lifesaver when you're diet programs and trying to resist yearnings. Fiber is a plant-based nutrient that the body can not absorb.

This indicates that a glass of orange juice won't have the very same results on fullness as an orange, making it very easy to take in large amounts in a short amount of time. Also, fruit juice generally has no fiber and doesn't need chewing. If you are yearning a treat, eat a piece of fruit or a handful of nuts instead.

Like coffee, green tea also has several advantages, one of them being weight reduction. Any type of resource of high quality healthy protein for morning meal must do the trick.

A simple weight lifting regimen will be adequate, also if it doesn't press you to the restriction and leave you out of breath. It's well worth following this up with a casein shake; as pointed out previously this will guarantee regular muscle mass recovery throughout the evening while you rest. Eat bananas either whole or in a smoothie mix with milk as well as ice. No other fruits or veggies are enabled, yet individuals can likewise consume wonder soup.

Exercises like high-knee operating, butt kicks, and also mountain climbers call for limited room. If you're at home and don't have health club tools, you can still do high-calorie-burning workouts. If your physician hasn't suggested a 500-calorie diet regimen, you should not attempt this diet regimen. A diet regimen similar to this has risks and safety measures associated with it. This diet regimen can be hazardous and needs medical supervision.

https://rangegreece51.werite.net/post/2020/12/11/Fitness-Trainer-Or-Instructor-Profession-Account. -boosting impacts of fiber might create huge benefits in regards to weight control. Resistance training is a type of workout that involves antagonizing a force to increase muscle mass stamina as well as endurance. To begin, merely switch out refined grains in pastas, white breads, cereals and also pre-packaged products for healthy, whole-grain options such as couscous, quinoa, wild rice or barley. What's even more, they typically have a high glycemic index, which suggests that they are digested and also taken in rapidly. Fast food digestion causes spikes and accidents in blood sugar levels, followed by raised hunger.

If you're mosting likely to consume carbs, ensure to eat them with their natural fiber. Research studies show that sugar (and also high-fructose corn syrup) consumption is highly related to an increased risk of weight problems, along with conditions including kind 2 diabetes as well as heart disease. In addition, it might lower the loss of muscle mass commonly connected with low-calorie diet plans. Nevertheless, higher-quality studies are needed before any stronger insurance claims can be made. Though eco-friendly tea contains percentages of caffeine, it is loaded with powerful antioxidants called catechins, which are believed to work synergistically with high levels of caffeine to boost weight loss.

Note that this does not mean that you must include this fat to your diet plan, however simply change several of your other fat sources with coconut oil. Utilizing smaller sized plates lowers how much food you eat, while providing you the perception of having actually eaten much more. Periodic fasting is an eating pattern that cycles between periods of fasting and eating.

Studies show that individuals who eat vegetables and fruits often tend to consider much less. The best method to prevent this is to do some sort of resistance workout such as lifting weights. Studies show that weight lifting can assist maintain your metabolism high and also avoid you from losing precious muscle mass.

Continue reading to find out more regarding the risks as well as goals of the 500-calorie diet. " You recognize, you have actually reached in fact use up that or cut down on your consumption. As well as it takes longer than overnight to do that," he said. Apovian, that is also the director of scientific research study at the Weight problems Research Center of Boston Medical Facility, claimed workout is not required for individuals of this strategy.

As an example, if you have kind 1 diabetes, you'll need to monitor your blood sugar levels during as well as after workout. Jumping jacks are a standard cardio workout that elevates your heart rate. You do not require much space to do jumping jacks, so it's easy to do in your home. The HIIT bodyweight exercises listed above can be done in the house.

They may likewise have artificial trans fats, which are extremely harmful and also connected to several illness. Pastries, cookies and cakes are loaded with harmful components like added sugar and also fine-tuned flour.

Noom.

Here are 26 weight-loss ideas that are actually evidence-based. Therefore, if you clean or use mouthwash after eating, you might be be much less attracted to grab an unneeded snack. Research studies have revealed that sleep-deprived people depend on 55% more likely to end up being overweight, contrasted to those who obtain sufficient sleep. Of all the probiotic microorganisms, Lactobacillus gasseri reveals the most promising results on weight loss. Fitness Training UK have revealed that overweight and obese individuals have a tendency to have various digestive tract germs than normal-weight individuals, which might influence weight.

The main nutritional resources of polished carbohydrates are white flour, white bread, white rice, soft drinks, pastries, snacks, desserts, pasta, morning meal grains, and sugarcoated. Glucomannan is just one of numerous weight management pills that has actually been shown to work. There are likewise several healthy as well as natural treats that are easy to prepare as well as take with you on the move. There is a great deal of poor fat burning details on the internet.

[jennyquill]

Supercorp and baking? But plot twist it's a college au and maybe they added something special to the brownies. Thanks my dude enjoy being drunk

fuck i love you anon. i also know nothing about baking edible mary-j so. i’m sorry if this is totally wrong bc it probably is. yeah alcohol! 

“i don’t like smoking.”

kara shrugs. “that’s okay,” she says. her fingers idly twist in the bedsheets. “i don’t like it either.”

they’re tangled together in kara’s small dorm bed and lena’s music is being amped through kara’s tiny speakers and lena’s shirt is on the floor of kara’s itsy-bitsy room. kara’s roommate is out so that means lena is in. kara breathes nicely, skin buzzing and smile easy. 

“i’ve never had edibles though,” lena says. she adjusts herself so she sits up on the pillows. kara hums, pillows her head on lena’s chest. 

“i know a guy?”

lena smiles. “really?”

“i mean.” kara shrugs again, a memory of lucy explicitly waxing poetic about the wonders of magic brownies churning in her head. lena’s fingers tangle into hers. “i’ve always wanted to make my own, too.”

“where would we do that?” lena laughs and gestures around them. “i don’t think that would be the smartest thing.”

“no,” kara agrees. she shifts so that she’s now on lena’s stomach, ear pressing into soft skin and hearing so much. bodies are weird. 

the music plays and the room is caught in this nice space in between time: kara snuggled to lena, air thick, windows dim. a thought occurs to her. 

she sits up then, lena jolting in the quick motion.“james’s apartment isn’t far from here,” she says, arms still wrapped around her girlfriend’s midsection. 

lena recovers and appraises kara carefully. “james isn’t into hooligan antics.” she taps kara’s nose which makes kara scrunch up her face. 

“neither are we.”

“yeah, but isn’t there like, an etiquette to this stuff?” lena flips a wild piece of hair out of kara’s face. “we can’t just invite ourselves over.”

kara rolls her eyes. “it’s james. he never locked his door freshman year.”

lena laughs, hand cupping kara’s cheek and kara leans into the touch. “winn hated him for that.”

“he still does.”

the dim light turns lena’s black hair blue, something so pretty that kara can’t stop the kiss she plants on lena’s lips, soft simple and sweet. it’s distracting, and they spend a little time getting a lot lost. 

“say we take over james’s kitchen,” lena mumbles against kara’s lips. “where would we get the stuff?”

kara pushes forward, eager for that sweet pressure. “like i said, i know a guy.”

lena laughs, open and cute. “you know everyone.”

kara flips her hair and smiles smugly. “i know.”

lena shakes her head but kisses kara anyways. by the time they’re done lena is resting atop kara’s chest, both breathing heavy and the daylight long gone. 

“so you know a guy?”

kara’s hand feels hot and heavy against lena’s bare back. 

“yes.”

.

brian texts kara back in less than two minutes.

finally, is all he says, followed by his address and a slew of excited emojis. 

lena shoves kara lightly on the shoulder and kara pretends to fall, arms flailing and legs dramatically thrown up. 

“you shouldn’t shove people,” kara whines, phone still in her palm. lena’s response is to shove kara again, and this time kara makes an effort not to budge. 

“you can handle it,” lena says with a wink. kara’s cheeks pink after that, and lena picks up her clothes off the floor with more attractiveness than what should be allowed. 

"you’re crazy.”

lena stands and puts her hand on her hip, levels her gaze at kara. “i’m not the one making drug deals at six in the afternoon. 

kara snorts and goes to dig around her drawers for shorts. “you’re paying for half of it,” she points out. “so that makes two crazies.”

she doesn’t see it but she knows with certainty lena is rolling her eyes. 

“it’s because i love you.”

“sap.”

“it’s true.”

lena fixes her hair in the mirror, sweatshirt baggy and skin faintly flushes. kara’s heart does that weird thumpy thing again and the room waltzes to that special halt once more. 

“yeah,” she says. “true.”

.

kara isn’t a terrible baker but lena’s a distraction. 

“we have to distribute the marijuana equally or -” kara sighs, lena’s arms tight around her waste and breath warm on her neck. “- or some parts will be more thc heavy than others.” 

lena hums, smart enough to understand but clearly not caring. “okay.”

“i’m gonna do that now.”

lena nibbles softly at her earlobe and kara tilts her head, almost spilling the batter in the process. 

“lena,” she whines.

“yes?” lena smiles into her skin. 

“lena.” it’s james’s voice carried over from the living room. “let kara bake.”

“please,” winn calls after. “also, i’m totally beating james right now if anyone cares.” the bouncy sounds of their mario kart game bop around the apartment and winn whoops in celebration. 

“bow down,” winn cries, the sound of his controller hitting the hardwood with a loud clack. it’s followed by james’s groan and another bouncy tune. “bow down, boy.”

kara’s able to get everything in the pan without much hassle and prays she’s done it right. lena’s moved to lean against the counter so the extra space is welcomed but kara reaches for her again anyways, hand fondling the scratchy familiar of lena’s sweater. 

“now we wait,” she says as she slides it into the oven. “and then we become real hooligans.”

“luthors aren’t hooligans,” lena says. 

kara nods, brings her hands to her chest in mock grievance. “of course. how naive of me to forget.”

“please share,” james calls from the living room. winn whoops again and james swears under his breath, that bouncy boppy tune growing stronger with every passing second. “you better share. you use my kitchen you share the goods.”

kara sends a salute over to the boys’ way even though they aren’t paying attention. “will do, good sirs.” she turns to lena, smile mischievous. “and you said james didn’t like hooligan antics.”

“i love hooligan antics,” james yells. lena shrugs. 

“i stand defeated.”

kara kisses her anyways. 

.

“lucy said not to take the entire square.” kara eyes winn’s slice warily. he doesn’t seem deterred, and then promptly eats the entire thing in two bites. he licks his fingers and shoots kara a dopey grin. 

“what does lucy know?” he asks. 

“everything,” james says. he takes a careful bite and chews thoughtfully. “you’re a wild child so i’m just not going to do what you’re doing.”

lena is looking at her slice with contemplation. 

kara and lena don’t do anything that would make james dub them as wild children. kara’s never done this and neither has lena and while it’s exciting kara also can’t help but replay eliza’s lectures to her and alex before they sauntered off to college. 

she catches lena’s gaze. there’s laughter, something like an inside joke being broadcasted over kara’s way. kara smiles, the stench of chocolate and hooligan antics strong. 

“ready?”

lena nods, smirk bright.

“ready.”

.

nothing happens. 

they play a round of mario kart. lena and kara clean up the kitchen. winn tries to convince james to a fourth round of mario kart. 

and then almost an hour later kara feels really warm. 

she stands and the room tilts. lena burns bright under the kitchen lights. kara thinks that’s funny, which, it isn’t, but it is. it so is. 

lena frowns. “why are you laughing?”

kara giggles behind her hand, a poor attempt to hide the rising of her chest. “why aren’t you?” she shoots back.

lena furrows her eyebrows. “you’re feeling it.”

“she’s feeling it!” winn yells, and by the shrillness of it kara’s pretty sure he’s feeling it too. 

james taps at his phone casually and doesn’t spare winn a glance. “sit down please.” winn immediately sits.

kara reaches for lena and marvels at how soft lena’s skin is, how she can see the blemishes on lena’s face up close, on the faint smell of chocolate and the smudge of her eyeliner. so close. lena is so close and so beautiful. 

“what?”

kara breathes. her head doesn’t feel attached to her body. “i don’t know.”

“feeling it?”

kara scratches her arm and the itch echoes across her skin in waves. 

“yeah.”

lena looks serious for a hot second before bursting into laughter. she cups the back of kara’s neck soothingly and wow, kara wants lena to touch her for forever. 

“this is the best idea we’ve ever had.”

“boo ya,” winn cries. there’s a sound like a body hitting the floor followed by a smack of a pillow. the mario kart theme plays on a loop. james laughs. 

kara snuggles closer. “best. idea. yes.” she punctuates her words with a kiss and lena smiles, smiles, something so weird and wonderful brewing in this little apartment on a weekend night. 

.

lena’s mouth has been hanging open for the last half hour. or is it five minutes? james said it’s only been fifteen. kara doesn’t trust math anymore. 

she pokes a finger underneath her girlfriend’s hanging chin and pushes gently up to close her mouth. lena’s bones move like putty and the moment kara removes her finger lena’s jaw slacks open again on instant. 

kara giggles and feels borderline maniacal. 

“so dignified.”

lena does something that looks like she means to swerve out of kara’s grasp but only achieves in whipping her hair back and forth. she pouts and pushes her cheeks together with her hands, skin red and flushed. 

“i feel like a turnip,” she moans. 

kara barks out laughter and james joins in, though he looks mostly confused. he’s cradling the mario kart console in his arms and having a conversation about lucy with winn at the same time. 

“that’s weird,” kara tells lena and accents it with a bop on lena’s nose. lena sniffles. 

“do you think we could get sushi?”

kara’s eyes widen. “from that shady place down on riverview and second?”

lena nods vigorously. “yes. yes yes yes.”

“i love salmon. they have salmon rolls.”

“and avocado.”

“hippy.”

“fish.”

kara laughs again and shivers because she can feel the laugh bubble up inside of her and what the –

winn’s sitting on his spot on the floor, unmoving and eyes glazed to the television. “i love these colors,” he mumbles. kara turns to see he’s watching the night news. anderson cooper is interviewing a lady down in texas. “i love,” winn mumbles some more, and after that kara decides to leave him in his infatuation. 

kara stands with difficulty and pads over to her phone where it’s resting on the counter. she wakes it up and swipes with slippery fingers to thumb in her passcode but is denied each time. it takes her about ten times before she realizes it isn’t her phone, but lena’s. 

“oh,” she says. 

lena’s suddenly spread out on the couch. “you okay?” she asks, voice an octave lower than usual, laden with sleep and hooligan antics. 

“yes,” kara affirms. she gets through the lock screen and stares at lena’s homepage with difficulty. words are so hard. words are fine. kara can read. kara. kara knows that sushi place’s number. 

it takes some time but they’re able to place a decent order. kara is entranced by lena’s phone’s light. the mario kart theme is stuck in her head and james is calling lucy and winn’s trying to find the tv remote and lena. lena is right next to kara and poking at kara’s earring. 

“have you always had this?” she asks. kara gets distracted by their closeness, lena’s smell very strong for some reason. 

“yes.”

“it’s cute.”

“thank you.”

“sushi?”

“yes.” kara bumps their foreheads together and maybe it’s a tad too hard because lena actually winces. “sorry.”

lena shakes her head. “i can feel my heartbeat,” she says. 

“that’s a good thing.” kara bumps her hand to rest against lena’s chest. the pulse is sure and strong and warm and kara’s senses go on overdrive. “it means you’re alive.”

lena smiles, eyes so dark in this lighting. kara smiles back, wonders if lena knows she looks great even without plucked eyebrows. 

“i’m glad.”

“good.”

.

kara’s two boxes of mediocre salmon rolls in when things start to go from comfortable to not comfortable. 

her stomach churns restlessly and she can feel every piece of sushi actually slide down her throat and it’s disgusting to be quite honest. the room spins but not pleasantly, and while she loves having lena by her side right now it feels too warm, too much too soon. she rolls her head, the cricks seeping into her muscles instead of flowing out of her body. kara hears winn’s voice droning on about something and james answering him but it’s all. so. much. 

lena spits out her sushi. 

“i can’t do this,” she says, looking very tired. 

kara nods through her haze, that stupid mario kart theme on that stupid endless loop. she’s not even sure if the damn thing is even plugged in. 

“lucy said,” she breathes, her head thumping against the wall. “lucy said it’s called greening out.”

lena shoves her food away from her. "how do we stop it.”

“we don’t.”

lena moans. kara cringes. she pries herself away from her girlfriend’s grasp as politely as she can, and lena goes willingly, taking comfort against the leg of the couch instead. 

“lucy said we just need to sleep it off.”

kara takes the last bite of her sushi because it was expensive and she paid for it so she might as well force herself to finish it, even if her girlfriend wont, and –

she turns and lena is snoring. 

kara sighs. her insides are on fire and her brain is overheated so she doesn’t think too hard about it and then curls up on the floor next to lena, hand brushing lena’s hand. 

the boys’s voices continue to drone on as kara’s eyes get heavier and heavier, her entire body creaking in her ears, the harsh cold of the floor a welcome sensation against her burning cheeks. 

at least she can say they baked the brownies correctly. 

.

so she doesn’t like to smoke. 

this is different. it’s weird. kara falls asleep to the throbbing of her organs. 

lena’s hand finds hers somewhere in the night, and they end up squeezed onto james’s couch sometime between it. 

.

things kara’s learned through the magic of adult brownies:

1). lena is beautiful even when high off her mind.

2). winn is a nerd. 

3). james needs a new video game console. 

4). she can bake brownies better than alex.

.

in the morning, kara wakes up with a crick everywhere and lena drooling on her shoulder. morning sunlight blinds her vision before she blinks away the spot. james is gone, most likely in his room, and winn is asleep in an armchair. 

kara debates waking lena up but then lena whimpers in her sleep, turns so she’s more buried into kara’s embrace, and wow, they look disgusting and kara feels like a sack of potatoes but there’s something about the community of this moment that has her stopping and sliding back into sleep. 

they’re crazy and they baked hooligan antics in james’s kitchen but hey. kara can clean everything up later. 

lena sleeps. winn snores. kara drifts back into her dreams. 

[fourteenacross]

I NEED TO KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT THE SHARING A BED STORY. I NEED ALL THE BACKGROUND ON THAT ALEXANDER AND lAURENS. pLEASE SHARE.

Haha, thanks, buddy! :D

I don’t plan on expanding that rn as my docket is currently ghosthunters shitty summer, fem4ham, ghosthunters fall term, ghosthunters mirrors, so here’s what was going on in my head while I was working on that.

(as a refresher, here’s the original ficlet)

So, John and Alex grew up together, at least for the bulk of their adolescence. Something something Alex came to the US as a child and ended up in South Carolina, I guess, and they met and became instantly inseparable. There were probably a lot of sleepovers contingent on whose parents were annoying them at the moment, lots of exploring and secrets and crushes and finally, maybe their sophomore year of high school, they started dating.

This John’s depression and anxiety are a little amped up from how I read him historically and how I write him in ghosthunters (…for the most part. Uh. To be continued, there.), but he’s more or less coping, sometimes much less, and Alex has made it His Job to be there constantly, whenever John needs him, to do whatever it takes to de-escalate him, an unfortunate symptom of Alex’s own issues. His problems stay kind of below his father’s and teachers’ radar because a) when he goes on an anxiety spiral, unlike every other aspect of his life, instead of lashing out in anger, he turns his pain inward and gets quiet and hurts himself (minorly. Not so much self-harm as looking down after a panic attack and realizing that he was trying so hard to be quiet that he chewed his nails down to the quick or stabbed his nails into his palms hard enough to draw blood or picked a scab open or, not infrequently, yanked his hair so hard that his scalp is red and throbbing and he tore some out) and b) John is ashamed and goes out of his way to cover it up and Alex believes that He Can Handle Everything, so he sort of facilitates that.

Anyway, they do dumb high school sweetheart shit, they go to dances, they lose their virginity, they have huge fights and tearful make-ups, they talk about the future, etc. When the time comes, they both apply to a bunch of different colleges and promise that neither of them will throw their future away for the other. If they both get into the same place, great, but if not, they can handle long distance. Alex secretly fears that John won’t be able to handle long distance, but it doesn’t matter because they both get into Columbia and Alex gets enough financial aid that he doesn’t have to worry about going into debt for the rest of his life.

And John is sure that things will get better in New York, away from his hometown and expectations and terrible memories of things in his past. Alex is, again, doubtful, but he hopes as much as well. And, tragically, Alex is the one who’s right in this case. The stress of trying so hard to leave his anxiety behind just makes him more anxious. He’s overwhelmed and depressed and doesn’t know what to do or how to be a person and eventually Alex gets a call at three o’clock in the morning and it’s John, sounding drunk, saying, “Alex, I did something stupid” and then dropping the phone. And Alex gets the pleasure of running to John’s room and making the RA unlock the door and discovering that John drank quite a bit of vodka and chased it with all of his ativan.

So John–unconscious–and Alex–hysterical–are transported to the hospital, where John’s stomach is pumped and his system is flushed and all that good stuff. Someone at the hospital calls John’s dad when Alex discovers he’s shaking too much to use the phone and, thank god, he’s listed as John’s emergency contact, so at least he gets updates from the doctors as he waits to see how John’s doing.

The long and short of it is that they have John admitted for a mandatory psych eval and, though at first he’s insistent that he’s not crazy and he should be allowed to leave, by about twenty-four hours into his seventy-two hour stay he starts to realize how messed up he’s let himself become, so he agrees to be admitted for a slightly longer stay.

It ends up being a few weeks, I think, and Alex visits him religiously,  every single chance he’s able. His dad stays in New York for the length of his admission and he starts to put his life back together and begins the search for more helpful medication and starts therapy for the first time and mostly just has a few weeks when the world stops. Which is all he’s wanted for years and years, since his mother and brother died. A few days when everything just stops and he has time to breathe and think and make decisions.

Alex comes up a lot in his therapy, obviously, and one of the things that’s been making him extra anxious is his desire to please Alex, his desperation to be good enough for him, to be someone he deserves. And no matter how many times Alex tells him he has nothing to live up to, he’s perfect the way he is, it’s something that John struggles with. So his therapist suggests that maybe he and Alex should take a little break so John can focus on being good for himself instead of being good for his boyfriend. And it is the last fucking thing that John wants to do, but it makes sense. And, in family therapy, Alex very earnestly tells John that John is his best friend and he will always be there for him, and if he needs some time to himself to get his shit together, Alex understands. Just because they’re not together doesn’t mean Alex is going anywhere.

Which kind of seals it for John. He likes the idea of being able to spend a few weeks breathing and existing without losing Alex’s emotional support. As long as he still has Alex as a friend, he’ll be okay.

And it’s just a few weeks to start, but by then the new semester is starting and John is severely behind due to his leave of absence the year before, so he needs more time to focus on that. He figures they’ll stay apart as long as it takes him to catch up on classes. But then spring semester ends and John’s got a summer class to make up a class he had to drop in the fall and Alex has a job and he doesn’t want to distract either of them. And then it’s fall and John starts to backslide, so he takes more time and then, before he knows it, it’s spring of their sophomore year and Alex is awkwardly asking him if it would be okay if he went on a couple dates with someone else.

“Just, like, messing around,” Alex says quickly. “Not–just until you’re ready. I love you. But I want you to be ready and I don’t want to rush you and–nevermind, this was stupid, I can’t believe I asked–”

“No,” John says quietly. “No, that’s…that’s a good idea. I think you should do it.”

It’s feels like the hardest and worst thing John’s ever had to do, even though he knows, objectively, that’s not true. But he doesn’t know when he’ll be ready for a relationship again and he doesn’t want Alex to wait forever. That will just brew resentment, eventually, and he wants Alex to be happy. If that means he’s gonna go out and fuck some other guy…then so be it.

Alex is simultaneously surprised, relieved, and disappointed. He didn’t expect John to give him a straight answer and certainly not immediately. And he’s interested in a guy and kind of wants to explore the world outside of his relationship with John before they settle down forever. He’s only ever been with one other person–John hasn’t been with anyone outside of Alex. But at the same time, it feels like something is ending. Part of him had hoped that John would say, You know what, let’s try being a real couple again, and that they’d pick up where they left off and everything would be okay again. And things are good now–he still has John in all the important ways, John is still his world, but there’s a part of him that misses kissing him and being kissed and touching him and the fragile intimacy of having sex with someone he loves so wholly.

But John has to move at his own pace. So Alex asks out this guy and John hates him. He pretends, for Alex’s sake, to tolerate him, but he thinks he’s vain and selfish and stupid and not nearly as hot as Alex thinks he is. He knows that most of the reason he hates him so much is because he’s kissing Alex and John isn’t, but he figures as long as he doesn’t say any of that to his or Alex’s face, he’s okay.

And after that guy, Alex has a couple more flings, guys and girls alike. And by the time they’re getting ready to graduate and John feels like he’s maybe ready to be Alex’s boyfriend again, Alex has been accepted to law school and John finds out he’s short a couple credits, so he has to take some summer classes and they’re just so busy. And Alex has this friends-with-benefits thing with their buddy Angelica and he actually seems like he’s taking it kind of seriously? And John doesn’t want to fuck that up, especially when Alex says, sheepishly, that he’s been invited to spend the summer with Angelica’s family. John tells him to go and have fun and, based on the pictures on social media, he totally does. And John is alone and bored in New York, trying not to be resentful of Alex’s summer with Angelica and her sisters, and there’s this cute guy in his building who keeps bumping into him in the halls and one night he’s drunk and lonely and they bump into each other and John let’s the guy take him back to his apartment.

And, two days later, he’s trying to figure out how to tell Alex that he slept with someone else when Alex calls him and starts the conversation with, “You can say no.”

John says, “What?”

And Alex says, “Um, I met this girl.”

And John says, “I thought you were there with Angelica and her sisters.”

And Alex says, “I am. Uh, it’s one of her sisters. You know me and Angelica were always just casual. But. I kind of like her sister.”

And John says, “Then you should ask her out.”

So Alex does and John waits a couple weeks and then casually says, “There’s this guy in my building who’s really hot.” 

And Alex pauses for just a second too long and then says, “Then you should ask him out.”

And John is a little sad, a little wistful at giving up his first love, but he figures that’s just the way it was supposed to be. He feels better about it when Alex comes home from the shore and is still everything he was before–John’s inseperable best friend, always there for him at a drop of a hat, eager to spend as much time together as they can manage. Alex was, before anything else, his best friend and as long as he has that, he thinks he’ll be okay.

Alex, meanwhile, panicked the moment he felt that first pull towards Eliza, sitting up around the bonfire with her, talking about everything, hours after Angelica and Peggy went to bed. He tells her all about John and she listens and nods and he realizes he wants to kiss her and realizes she’s not the kind of girl you kiss and few times and fuck for a couple weeks and then move on. When he calls John, he almost wants him to say no, but he doesn’t, so he goes ahead and asks her out.

“What about John?” she asks.

“I talked to him,” Alex admits. “And he told me to ask you out.”

“I’m not going to be a distraction while you’re waiting for him to want you again,” she warns him. “If we’re together, you’re with me. You’re not biding your time.”

“I know,” Alex says. “And I love him more than anything. And I always will. But I get to have a life too. And at this point, I don’t think we’ll ever be on the same page, so I might as well go out and make one.”

When he hears about Francis a couple weeks later, his heart freezes in his chest. He feels like he wants to throw up, which is selfish–he has Eliza, now, he doesn’t get to have a say in who John fucks. And maybe it’s just fucking. Maybe they’re not even going to date. So he sucks it up, only a second or two too long for polite conversation, and tells John to ask him out.

He drinks a lot that night and Eliza doesn’t ask why, but she does hold his hair back when he pukes the next morning and hold onto him while he cries.

And after that, life just…goes on. Alex gets caught up in law school. John gets a job as a freelance illustrator as he tries to figure out what he wants to do with his life. Alex and Eliza stay together, then break up for a few months after Alex cheats on her (and John never has to know about how she shouted, I always knew you’d do this, but I just assumed it would be John you fucked! in a moment of petty weakness that Eliza is too ashamed to mention again and Alex is too guilty to mention again, because he thinks if John asked, he would have), and then get back together. John breaks up with Francis and dates a few other guys, a couple he even thinks he might be able to love one day. John starts his own photography business and manages to do pretty well for himself. Alex graduates law school and accepts a position at his mentor’s law firm. John and Francis get back together. Alex gets offered substantially more money to move out to Philly and work in the office out there. Eliza moves with him and John’s a little surprised they haven’t gotten engaged yet, but doesn’t like to think about it too hard, though he doesn’t examine why. After six months, Eliza gets offered a job in California and, after a long conversation with Alex, decides to take it, even though Alex won’t leave his job to come with her. A few weeks after that, Francis and John have one last shouting match that ends with Francis shoving all of his stuff in John’s apartment into a garbage bag and storming out.

And then, about a month later, after the holidays, Alex calls John at two in the morning and says, I think I made as mistake.

And then, here we are.

[poeticandvaguelysweet]

Prompt #175 - The Girl Next Door

ANON: We're roommates and I pretend to be your spouse to scare off your one night stands AU and @cali-forniacationn : ‘I’m not jealous, but, like, come on, movie night is just for me and you only’ from: friends or more sentence starters.  and ANON: sex with clothes half on from: sex tropes 

Something a little easier to follow Max’s story. 

AO3

THE GIRL NEXT DOOR

Apartment living was similar to military barracks, apart from the fact that Owen had his own space. No bunks and no routine wake up unless he wanted it. He had been out for six months, comfortably trying to find his niche in the wide world of peaceful living away from wars and battlefields.

He kept to himself, smiling at neighbours and holding open doors. It took two weeks for him to meet Claire Dearing. She worked corporate, pantsuits and pencil skirts, killer heels that clipped in the hallway and coffee brewing early enough to rouse him through the open window of his small balcony. That was where he met her, sitting in the early morning sun, thankful that he landed himself with the side of the building that caught the sunrise. Cup of coffee on the little table in front of him, bowl of porridge. a slice of peanut butter toast and the morning paper. He had intended to enjoy his Saturday morning when the red head from next door burst out onto her balcony. The door slid shut behind her, woman cursing at herself in an oversized shirt that left nothing of her legs to his imagination.

Each apartment was fit with a small balcony only half a metre apart from the one next to it. No privacy was awarded from space to space, boasting a friendly environment where neighbours could get to know each other. Owen didn’t like the intimacy in lack of privacy but the walls were sound proof; so far as he knew, the space modest and the neighbours polite enough to keep to themselves.

‘Rough morning,’ Owen joked, somewhat startled to see her standing there, eyes closed, hand on her chest. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, trailing up long legs, swallowing thickly at the shape of her thighs as she jumped, pulling herself away from the sound as she swore. ‘Sorry.’ He apologised for scaring her, eyes jumping to her face.  

‘Is’k, I didn’t see you.’ Her hand was clutching her chest, heart apparently racing as she smiled at him softly. Like staring into the sun, he couldn’t look away. ‘Owen, right?’ He nodded, assuming she got his name off the letterboxes in the lobby, knowing he had done the same for her. ‘What do you do when your date from last night is still here and you really don’t want them to be?’

Leaning back in his chair, Owen chuckled. ‘Easy, I don’t bring them to my apartment.’ He winked at her, whistling something about being a rookie as Claire rolled her blue eyes and huffed. She stood there letting the sun warm her skin as she pouted, arms crossed over her chest and pulling at the fabric of her shirt designed as a night gown. ‘I could help.’ He offered, watching her fidget, internally fighting with herself over the awkward encounter that was to come. The guy couldn’t just stay there sleeping in her bed until he felt like it. Claire had a weekend to enjoy and she didn’t particularly want him to join in. She couldn’t even remember his name.

‘How so?’ she asked, stepping towards him as she raised an eyebrow under perfect bangs. It took five minutes for Owen to explain, Claire jumping at the strangers opportunity as she ducked inside and back out again to pass her neighbour the keys to her apartment. He promised to give her a few minutes, allowing Claire to get settled for full effect.

Already dressed for the day, Owen brought his dishes in from the balcony before grabbing his duffle and shoving a few things into it for affect. He checked the time on his watch, three minutes passed since he he watched Claire dash back into her apartment with the slightest glimpse of her grey briefs under the not-long-enough shirt.

He took a deep breath, adjusting the bag over his shoulder as he left his apartment door unlocked, prepared to save a beautiful woman from an unwanted visitor. The lock on her door clicked smoothly, allowing Owen entrance as he tried not to be too loud and simultaneously too quiet. He had to act like this space was his.

The layout was similar, simple open floorpan just reversed. Her kitchen was on the right of the entrance, his on the left. He moved for it, dropping her keys noisily on the counter, his duffle hitting the floor with an easy thud. It was just a prop, applying substance to his story and leaving no holes for argument; not that Owen thought his idea would fall through.

‘Honey, I’m home!’ He called, keeping his voice in a singsong. The trick was to convince the other man that he really had come home surprisingly early to a girlfriend who had been unfaithful. Claire was all for it, only frowning slightly when she realised it put her in a bad light before shrugging; she had no intention to see this guy again.

‘Oh shit, he’s home.’ He could hear her voice down the short hall, panicked as he imagined her shaking her unwanted guest awake, hair tumbling over her shoulders.

‘Who?’ A groggy voice responded.

‘Claire-Bear?’ Owen called out, taking a long step towards the hall.

He wished he could see her, sure she was putting on the performance of her life, little actress in full show committing to every second of it. He must have been a terrible date if she was willing to sell it that hard to get rid of him. ‘My husband.’ Owen grinned, he’d said boyfriend on the balcony and either Claire forgot or choice to amp it up a little. Regardless, he didn’t mind. What a lucky bastard to be her husband, unlucky that she was currently cheating on him.

The man in her bed swore, words falling from his mouth as Owen heard something thud — probably him — against the floor, belt rattling loudly as the man clambered for his clothes. Wanting to catch them, Owen moved down the hall similar to his own, turning to the right when he saw her sitting on the bed, legs crossed, chewing on her bottom lip.

‘Hey baby,’ he grinned, eyes on her as he let his chest relax large steps carrying him to her side immediately as he kissed her softly on the cheek. Claire tensed, arms raised to greet him one on the back of his head as the other squeezed his arm. ‘What’s wrong?’ He turned, following her line of sight as he caught the other man standing, still bent in half, shirt hanging from his hands, slacks loose on his hips, zipper gaping open. ‘What the hell, Claire? Who is this?’ Owen snapped, turning his head towards her in disbelief.

Despite it all being a game to move this guy out of her apartment before 9:30am on a Saturday, Owen couldn’t help but feel a little rage bubble in his chest. Claire’s date opened his mouth, Owen’s body twitching towards his as his hands rolled into fists. The other man jumped, hastily sliding around the doorframe to break out into the hallway as he promised he wouldn’t have slept with her if he knew she had a husband. Like that would make it any better. Owen had to remind himself to breathe as he stalked after the man, telling himself this wasn’t Iraq, he was in his apartment building on American soil. This man wasn’t an enemy and he was just helping Claire with a task that didn’t need to turn violent. Her hand wrapped around his wrist, pulling on him weakly just for show as she begged him to let the other man go. He flinched at the contact, practically ripping his arm from her grip as he hissed at the intruder.

‘You stay the fuck away from my wife.’ He moved for the man again, finding mirth bubble in his chest when he tripped over Owen’s duffle before he made it to the door and scrambled beyond it.

‘Do you want some breakfast? Coffee? I probably pulled you from yours for that.’ Claire sighed, stepping around him as her hand glided across his shoulder blade. Owen flinched, trying to bring himself back down to Earth as he focused his energy. He nodded in response, scratching out a request for coffee. He couldn’t just run out the door after helping her, she hadn’t even thanked him and if Owen was being honest he wanted to thank her for the adrenaline rush. ’You really know how to go Hulk, hey?’ She smiled, still in her oversized shirt as she stood in her kitchen.

Owen shrugged, apologising if he’d scared her, faintly remembering her touch and being spooked by it. He didn’t know if the kiss was out of bounds, crossing a line they hadn’t set Owen just going for it in the moment really set on spooking the other guy.

‘So, you only just moved here, right?’ She asked, pouring a large mug of coffee before she slid it across the counter turning her back as she asked if he wanted milk or sugar. He asked for milk just to watch her bend down to collect it, fabric of her shirt spreading over her ass, flashing her underwear at him once again. He felt guilty instantly, averting his eyes and forcing himself to drink coffee with milk and sugar as a punishment for perving on her.  

‘Yeah, two weeks ago. I was, ah, discharged, needed a place to stay. This ain’t ideal but it’ll work for now.’ She hummed, mentioning something about noticing when the apartment beside hers began to be occupied again, barely catching a glimpse of him in the lobby or on the stairs — there was an elevator, Claire just preferred to make herself climb to their eighth floor the hard way. Owen thought she would want him to go, she wanted her date out of her apartment to enjoy the day but the sun was stretching across the floor of her living space, tickling the backs of his legs as he sat at the counter listening to her talk. She didn’t ask why he was discharged or what part of the military he had served in, she just smiled softly, talking about the area and how the building wasn’t a right fit for her either. Claire wanted something with a little more class that showed her bank balance well and fit the demands of her growing importance. She liked the apartment, the space was all she needed helping her continue a minimalist lifestyle due to how little space she actually had. Owen meant something different. He wanted a yard or acres of one, lots more space and on the ground not eight stories above it. It was better than barracks, he told her, promising to himself out loud once things had calmed he would find someplace to settle.

‘I better get out of your hair.’ He told her, pushing away from the counter slightly as his eyes caught sight of the time. He’d been there three hours, Claire replacing his coffee with another and replacing that one with a glass of juice. ‘You were in such a rush to get rid of him, I’ve probably taken up all of your day.’

He couldn’t even remember what they had been talking about properly. Properties and work, dreams and lifestyles. Nonsense things that would come back to him in a week but for now ghosted over his head in the middle of a normal conversation. It had been so long since someone spoke to him like a human being.

Claire shrugged. ‘I was just going to lie on the rug and soak up the sun.’ She told him with an embarrassed smile, stepping around the counter and moving for the plush rug she had on the floor. The thing look comfortable, white and fluffy, the sort of rug that was only owned by the overly clean who didn’t also happen to have pets. Or held the kind of bank account that could just throw it out and replace it when it started to turn into a mess. He raised a brow at her as she curled her toes in the rug, Claire admitting that was really all she had planned as she pointed to a book on the coffee table claiming she’d read in the warmth.

She sat without hesitation before lying herself out, stretching her limbs long and wide as her body arched and curved in the warmth of the sun’s embrace. ‘You’re strange.’ He told her, listening as her laugh filled the room. She worked too much, was what she was, Claire admitting it freely her eyes on the ceiling. Her down time was simple and exactly that; down time where she let her brain stop. She was young and carefree, barely twenty-four, everything in her life set in place as she lounged on her living room floor. He was two years older than her and damaged by war, bitter already with too many ghosts to leave him without a care.

Owen got up, bar stool squeaking on the floor as he moved to join her, sitting next to Claire’s shoulder as she grinned. ‘Try it.’ She reached out, tugging his hand as he laid down and tried to focus on the warmth of the sun’s rays. Claire admitted softly that she usually left the balcony door open, welcoming the breeze in as well. ‘Thank you for chasing that guy out this morning.’ She turned to him, eyes sincere and blue as she told him she had this odd kinship with him already. Claire felt she could trust Owen and she didn’t know why.

‘Any time.’ He told her, promising to scare away any unwanted guests. Owen did suggest she just didn’t bring them to her apartment but Claire only laughed.

[…]

Any time turned out to be one a fortnight almost to the second. Claire had a schedule and she liked to keep it, no matter the date. They were always on a Friday night and if there were some that weren’t, she hadn’t asked Owen to chase them away. She started texting him in advance, telling him as early as dinner that they had a potential idiot who wouldn’t get the concept of a one-night stand. Owen didn’t know how she managed to find them. Well, he did, she was beautiful and any guy would be an idiot not to follow her to her bed. He felt sorry for most of them, Claire using Owen to scare them out of the apartment building instead of shoving them out herself.

He found it endearing that she didn’t like confrontation on her weekends; Claire’s explanation. When she spent all week fighting against men for funding or the simple right to do her job without being questioned because she was a woman. He would have loved to see their faces when they found out Claire was a serial one night stander, pulling men into her web and letting them loose because she wasn’t afraid to admit that she liked sex — a hell of a lot — but could not stand the idea of committing herself to another person for the hell of it. Even casual dating. All the men who wound up in her embrace were the sort to love and leave anyway, they just wanted the chance at a second booty call.  

On Saturday’s, after her victims were hastily driven out, Claire and Owen had breakfast. She mostly made the coffee, offering fruit or toast admitting she couldn’t cook their meals only changing when Owen stepped in front of her stove preparing eggs, bacon, pancakes; the lot. He read the paper, Claire did the cross word, both of them sharing anecdotes from their week between sips of coffee and mental breaks between articles and word challenges. In the beginning, they went their seperate ways until a few weeks became months; Owen and Claire syncing their schedules together to work their whole day around the other. They did laundry in the basement of the building to keep company before trekking to the gym or choosing a route to run. They either skipped lunch or they gorged on a big meal before returning back to their apartment building to argue over a movie and what to order for dinner.

Saturday night was their movie night regardless of if she’d had a date that week or not. Owen was trying to educate her on some of his favourites, flashing all manner of Steven Spielberg films in her face as Claire rolled her eyes, offering her own favourite movies in comparison. They took turns, alternating each week. If he had to save her from an idiot who wouldn’t leave, he got to pick the film they watched. It was the least she could do to repay his services.

Neither noticed how close they had become, finding themselves in a close friendship that left their doors open for the other — and their balconies. Claire was consistently comfortable with Owen, throwing her legs over his lap as they watched TV and leaving her bedroom door open when she went to change. He wouldn’t do anything to betray that trust.

In the middle of summer his nightmares grew violent. The heat climbed up his spine and drenched his clothes, leaving the man sticky and impatient as bad dreams kept him from deep sleep. Unaware that he even had nightmares, Claire started to hear him, their balcony doors open to let in the hopes of a cool breeze. She had gotten up to get a glass of water when she heard him shout, voice unmistakable and calling out for a friend. He sounded hurt, voice pained and desperate as he called out over and over almost screaming in agony.

She didn’t waste any time, her heart jumping into her throat as worry climbed across her limbs. Claire knew his apartment door would be locked and where Owen had a spare for hers she didn’t have one for his. The exterior door was open a few feet between her balcony and his stopping her from reaching him.

‘Owen?’ She called out, hoping he might hear her and stop. It didn’t help. Claire hesitated, only for a second before she squeezed her eyes shut and reached for the railing. She pulled herself over, stretching between the two before she threw her weight and climbed onto Owen’s balcony.

He was tossing and turning in his bed, sweat rolling off him and soaking his sheets. In his sleep, he was frowning, groans falling from his lips as his arms flicked back and forth. She scrambled onto the bed, still calling his name hoping to reach him without scaring him further. With small hands on his shoulders, Claire tried to shake him awake, avoiding his thrashing limps as she called to him over.

Owen’s eyes snapped open, body pulling away from hers instantly as he blinked at her unsure if it was Claire in his bed. ‘How? How did you get in here?’ He asked her, rubbing at his eyes as he panted.

‘The balcony?’ She offered, shrugging as his eyes blew wide. Owen pulled her to him immediately calling her stupid for doing that but thankful she hadn’t fallen to her death. Claire didn’t ask about the nightmare and Owen didn’t tell. She stayed with him, talking about nothing, their bodies sticky in the summer heat as his temperature drove her wild but his clinging hands wouldn’t let her go.

[…]

Sometime after Claire being alerted to Owen’s nightmares and spending the night tucked against his chest, heavy arm holding her down, Claire stopped finding dates. She told him she just wasn’t interested anymore, feigning worry that her libido had dropped. She joked sex wasn’t interesting not adding that strangers were starting to bore her, they had always been missing something; a piece of her chest Claire felt like she had spend eternity looking for.

‘Hey, I picked up a copy of Sixth Sense for next week. Ready to have your world rocked?’ Claire grinned, turning to him on the couch, her legs already in his lap Owen’s hand on her shin. Owen frowned, eyes not meeting hers as he shrugged. ‘You told me you haven’t seen it!’ She pouted, grumbling at him with actual irritation other than a faux pass at making him feel bad. Claire wasn’t wrong, he hadn’t seen it, her excitement still alight when she found out Owen didn’t know the twist.

‘I just, I have a date next Saturday night?’ He offered her a shrug, unsure of how to answer her disappointed look. Owen almost felt her stomach drop with her, the look was stencilled across her face so well as Claire tried to stop her jaw from dropping open.

She shook her head. ‘Come on. It’s movie night, Owen.’ The dip in her brow was deep, Owen desperate to reach out and rub his thumb across the muscle there until she relaxed. If Claire knew how that would look when she was older, skin giving way a little more he was sure she would stop doing it. ‘I’m not — I’m not jealous.’ She told him, even when he didn’t imply it, sitting silently on the couch letting her say her piece without interruption. ‘But, like, movie night is just for me and you only. You can’t have a date.’

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know that was a rule.’ They’d been doing this thing for roughly six months now, no rules, no formal agreement, no nothing that stuck him to her side. They weren’t a couple, just friends who shared movies on a Saturday. He didn’t think it would be an issue. If he did, he would have ran it by her first but there was no way Owen Grady was rescheduling a date because Claire was pissed.

Claire pulled her legs from his lap slowly, hurt unmistakable in her eyes as she sat up and peeled herself from his couch. ‘I guess we’ll just save it for the week after. Unless your date is great.’ He laughed, telling her maybe, despite knowing that he shouldn’t have, the deep lines in Claire’s face setting harder as she excused herself feigning a big day and feeling a little rundown.

He didn’t see Claire for the rest of the week, woman keeping herself scarce as she dashed between home and work, no longer waiting for him before she hit the gym.

Owen didn’t even know why he was going on a date with this girl. His friends had set them up but as to why he said yes, he couldn’t remember. He didn’t want to go on a date, he didn’t want to meet people, he had Claire and a few regulars at the gym. He had friends from before who were being as accepting as they could possibly be in the face of all his personal changes. Owen was there to be polite, listening to her talk about college and a worldly experience from travelling abroad. He asked her if she wanted to come back to his apartment and she jumped at the opportunity immediately, giggling as they walked from the restaurant to his street. She was too sweet and too innocent he was bound to break her.

He offered her a beer just so he could bury himself in the fridge for a second, fingers tapping out an SOS text to Claire as guilt threaded itself in his stomach. He couldn’t sleep with this girl, he didn’t want her. He didn’t want to break her heart in the morning with a reverse of his and Claire’s elaborate play. He didn’t want her to think there was a chance this rugged NAVY man might want to settle down with her pure mind. She was making his head spin with her light giggles and colloquial language. He felt like they were worlds apart.

SOS

Door’s unlocked.

I don’t want her here. I want you.

He hit send, swallowing hard as he smashed the cap of his bottle on the side of the bench downing half of it in one go. The girl watched him with wide brown eyes and an electric smile, tongue tracing the outlines of her mouth. Owen closed his eyes, begging Claire to move fast.

It wasn’t even 10pm yet, she had to be awake, likely sitting around in her underwear watching some film he hadn’t even heard off, lightly grumbling to herself about how mad he made her. Nothing. His eyes were on his watch, impatience ticking at his fingers as five minutes passed, the girl frowning at him slightly as she played with the bottle he slid towards her.

‘Hey, I just have to grab something. Bedroom’s down there.’ He pointed to the hall, unused to being forward as she grinned, nodding before turning her back. Owen barely waited for her to disappear into his room before he moved for the balcony, climbing between his and Claire’s easily before letting himself into her apartment.

‘Oh, so when I do it, it’s not okay but it’s perfectly fine for you to climb the balustrade.’ Claire hissed not even surprised to see him standing in her living room. She was wrapped in a sky blue robe made of silk, tub of ice-cream in her hand with her legs curled up on the couch. Exactly like he expected, smirk climbing his cheeks. He knew her too well. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be on a date?’ She asked, rolling her eyes as she looked at him, shooting daggers with a glare.

He shrugged, watching her movements as Claire got up moving for the kitchen to put her ice-cream away. ‘Yeah, she’s, ah, in my apartment.’

‘Owen!’ Claire shouted, disbelief wiping itself across her face as she dropped her spoon in the sink with a loud clank.

‘What? Don’t you check your texts.’ He responded. She shoved her hand in the small pocket of her robe, pulling her phone out as she unlocked the device and read the message she had clearly missed.

‘Oh.’ Claire’s voice dropped, hand falling slack as she pushed her phone onto the bench. Owen stalked towards her, steps purposeful, calculated. ‘Owen,’ she sighed, voice whining. ‘That poor girl is probably naked in your bed right now.’ She pouted, feeling slightly sorry for the other woman.

Owen shrugged again. ‘I want you, not her.’ He repeated his text, catching the way her breath lodged in her throat, Claire’s pulse just visible against her collarbone in the kitchen light. Claire didn’t scare him, she was resilient, built strong and determined to handle her own. She didn’t take his shit when he handed it to her, but supported him if need be. She wasn’t going to break like glass if she put her trust in him. ‘You can go in there later, pretend to be my wife and scare her away.’ His voice dropped to a whisper, their bodies close as he caged her in the corner of the kitchen.

‘I’d like to hope she’ll take a hint soon.’ Claire breathed, eyes on his mouth as Owen stopped with an inch between them.

‘What hint is that?’ His breath ghosted across her face, lips hovering just near enough she could feel his touch.

‘You’re mine.’ She told him with a spark in her eye, ready for his next move as she pushed herself up on the counter. Owen’s large hands slid across her cheeks, cradling her face as he crashed a harsh kiss against her lips. She met him with ferocity, teeth clashing as their mouths fought for dominance.

Owen’s hands trailed from her face to her thigh, squeezing the exposed flesh there finally under the grasp of his touch. He pushed at the hem of her robe, flicking the silk out of the way as his fingers found the lace of her underwear. She was exactly as he thought she was, moping in expensive lingerie. Owen felt proud of himself that his assumption had been correct, knowing Claire’s high taste and predictable behaviour.

‘I want to be yours.’ He tore his lips from hers, moving his mouth to bite down on her collarbone as his fingers slipped between the soft lace and her smooth skin. Her breath hitched against his ear, Owen grunting in response of her warmth, her teeth sinking into the shell of his ear as he felt a grin on her cheeks.

Her fingers were swift against his belt buckle, pulling it apart with a swift tug as the ripper on his trousers released, leaving her hands free to shove them down his hips. He had forgotten, momentarily dumbstruck, at how lithe her fingers were, always so small in comparison to his as he handed over coffee mugs or pushed them to his chest for show in front of her unwanted guests. She tugged at her own underwear, huffing about him ruining the fabric as she shimmied on the edge of her kitchen counter, giggling at the cool touch of the stone. She whimpered when Owen pulled away, following the slight kick of her leg as she tossed her panties aside. Owen bent to kiss her thighs, scratching his stubble against her smooth flesh and pulling a new whimper from her.

Owen dropped a kiss between the apex of her thighs, feeling the strength of her legs clamp down on his head briefly before he pulled away, kissing her lips with a wicked grin. Claire shrugged her robe off her shoulders, feeling the light blue silk glide against her skin as it pooled at her elbows, her hands gripping his arms. He dropped his head to her chest, kissing her chest with small peppers of his lips. He didn’t bite until he pushed into her, sliding forward in a fluid motion. Claire gasped, her cheek pressed to the top of his head as she grinned, fingers sliding into his hair at the sound of his grunt, the feel of it vibrating against her breast as his teeth sunk down.

It took nothing to stop thinking about the woman in his apartment, surely sitting there confused wondering where Owen had gone to with his keys still on the counter and front door locked. He rocked into her at a fast pace, leaving nothing to time despite having it all. Claire couldn’t complain, meeting his thrusts with soft sighs, legs wrapping around his waist as her hands scratched up his back, tugging at the button down shirt he wore. She wanted it off, to feel his skin under her fingers but didn’t have the thought of mind to try to pry it from his body. Her mind was lost, heart in her throat as she focused on the feel of his rough hands one on her ass the other squeezing her breast through the lace of her bra.

He was rushed, acting on a need that had been building for months buried under a deep respect he had for her, desperate not to ruin things between them. It wasn’t until jealousy flashed in her eyes, hurt pressing deep lines in her face that he realised Claire wanted something more. He hadn’t been confident until he saw a flash of her grin the second he stepped into the small apartment.

It was hot and fast, fingers grasping for purchase against the other’s clothing, trying to hold on as he  kept up a fast pace knowing there was no way he would last very long. It didn’t seem to matter, Claire moaning against his ear, breathy little sighs falling from her lips as she failed at keeping her breath in.

She was purring his name in no time, Owen barely able to keep himself together his head buried against her neck as her snap nails squeezed at his asscheeks. She was giggling in his ear, the sound almost off putting if he wasn’t already tipping over the edge, revelling in the feel of her body against his, her mirth vibrating between them. Claire stopped him when she tried to pull away, ‘IUD’ was muttered between them, Claire ensuring it was safe as she locked her grip on Owen. He didn’t need to be told twice before her lips were swallowing his final groan.

‘If you ever do that with another woman behind my bad. I’ll be very angry, Mr Grady.’ Owen quirked a brow. She frowned softly repeating that she felt sorry for the other woman in the apartment next door.

Owen shook his head. ‘Never, I’m committed to right here.’ He poked her shoulder, grinning as she rolled her eyes. ‘I thought you weren’t even interested.’

Her laugh was pure, angelic and carefree as she tilted her neck back skin pink and promising to mark in a few places. ‘No, I thought you weren’t interested in me.’ He kissed her just for their dumb luck, leaning into her embrace as he sighed.

‘You think she’s gone yet?’

‘Why do you wanna leave my side so soon?’ Claire teased feigning a pout as something danced in her eyes, Owen recognising it to be a flash of hurt. She was joking but there was rejection lurking in her tone, not yet ready for him to up and leave her. Claire grinned, thoughts changing as she practically jumped off the counter. ‘I still have Sixth Sense.’ She promised, eyes wide, teeth in her bottom lip, her bra almost sitting crooked on her flushed chest as a nipple poked out of one cup while the other remained contained. She looked like a mess, a hot mess completely dishevelled her eyes still a little glassy. He wanted to pick her up and carry her to the bedroom, to spend the rest of the night worshiping her body in a space they only pretended was his.

‘I can do you one better.’ He promised, grin creeping across his stubbly cheeks as he winked at her.  

[arcanemoody]

It's 11am.

I’m in Chicago.

I’m drinking cold brew with coconut milk through a lady zombie slurpee straw (much love, 7-11).

Anxiety symptoms amped up a bit today -- sound sensitivity mostly, some body dysmorphia. The winter cold hit the city last night and my phone almost died waiting for a ride share to pick me up. I picked and chewed my nails the whole time. I decompressed a bit once I got home -- Rocket helped me re-think my outfit for Kara’s wedding, we had vegan hot dogs and pinto beans with kale and onions for dinner, I went through my henna routine and the new powder seems to be as good as the other stuff. I have my carpet bag packed for the flight tomorrow, both itineraries printed up and a to-do list for my lunch hour (needs: cash, padlock for hostel locker, Luna bars).

I’m looking forward to the trip, but also sad about being away from Rocket for 30 hours (”it’s the longest I’ve been away from my wife!” she laughed). And nervous about seeing my family for the first time since I got married. 

Things I feel positive about today: crocheting. It’s pay day so I went ahead and paid some bills and got some orders sent off (including a “last Christmas Cthulhu” shirt). My carpet bag with my Newton Geiszler “MOVE, YOU FASCIST!” charm. Possibly getting some research and writing done on the plane tomorrow (if I don’t fall asleep the second I sit down). 

[kapol-id]

Menakar Peluang Pariwisata Halal

Menakar Peluang Pariwisata Halal

BANDUNG, (KAPOL) – Ikatan Cendekiawan Muslim Indonesia (ICMI) Jawa Barat menggelar muzakarah (diskusi) tentang Pariwisata halal di Café Brew & Chew, Kamis (9/5/2019). 

Menghadirkan narasumber Ketua Umum Gerakan Nasional Pecinta Pariwisata Indonesia, Dede Farhan Aulawi, yang juga salah seorang pengurus ICMI.

Menurut Dede, pariwisata halal sesungguhnya bagian dari industri pariwisata yang ditujukan…

[elizabethcariasa]

Federal alcohol excise taxes will increase dramatically next year unless Congress acts

Whether I'm at home or traveling, I enjoy craft beers, like this one from a Maryland micro brewer.  (Photo by Kay Bell)

It's been one of those days. One of those weeks. One of those months.

You get the idea.

So I treated myself to a beer at lunch. And I'm having another one this afternoon. As the saying and song go, it's 5 o'clock somewhere.

I really don't partake of adult beverages that much, despite the many booze-related items I've posted over the years. And although the posts are, obviously, about taxes, I don't tend to think about the tax implications of a cold brewski. I just enjoy it.

The alcoholic beverages industry, however, does think about taxes. A lot.

And as 2019 is winding down, they are pushing Congress to make permanent a tax break they got as part of the Tax Cuts and Jobs Act (TCJA).

Toasting(?) a temporary tax break: Lawmakers rolled provisions from the Craft Beverage Modernization and Tax Reform Act into the major tax reform bill that was enacted in December 2017.

The alcohol-specific language reduced federal excise taxes for a range of producers, including brewers, winemakers, distillers and even importers.

Specifically, when New Year's Day 2018 arrived, a variety of the federal alcohol excise taxes dropped. Dramatically. Uncle Sam's levy on champagne, for example, went from $3.40 per wine gallon to just $1.07 per wine gallon.

The law also reduced the excise tax on barrels of beer, whether brewed or imported, and some distilled spirits.

But unlike other parts of TCJA that are permanent for big business, this potent potables tax component is short-term. If the tax break isn't at least extended, steep alcohol excise tax increases will kick in on Jan. 1, 2020.

Bipartisan booze tax relief support: The good news for the alcohol beverages industry is that both the House and Senate appear amenable to making their tax relief permanent, too.

The bad news is that in addition to the obvious time crunch factor, Congress has been distracted of late by impeachment investigations and hearings.

That's meant that legislation that was introduced earlier this year to make the beverage excise tax cuts permanent has stalled.

There is, however, strong support for a pair of companion bills that would take care of the impending alcohol tax hikes.

The bipartisan bill sponsored by Sens. Ron Wyden (D-Oregon) and Roy Blunt (R-Missouri) has more than 70 Senate cosponsors. The similarly bipartisan House bill, introduced by Reps. Ron Kind (D-Wisconsin) and Mike Kelly (R-Pennsylvania) has more than 300 cosponsors in that chamber.

"Extending benefits for craft beverage producers, as well as other expiring tax provisions, is a top priority," Wyden said, adding that he is "hopeful that we will come to an agreement on a year-end package."

Distractions from legislation: Still, there's a procedure that must be followed and so far it's not happening.

Neither bill has passed the appropriate tax committees in the respective chambers, the Senate Finance Committee and the House Ways and Means Committee.

So a coalition of groups, including the Beer Institute, Brewers Association, American Craft Spirits Association, Wine Institute, WineAmerica, the United States Association of Cider Makers and American Mead Makers Association, have teamed up to push for action on the legislation.

Bob Pease, president and CEO of the Brewers Association, told The Hill newspaper that the coalition has talked to House and Senate leadership, as well as the two tax committee about including the bill in a tax vehicle this year. The still-languishing extenders, perhaps?

Jim McGreevy, president and CEO of the Beer Institute, is optimistic that the alcohol excise tax relief will get done.

"My view is Congress can walk and chew gum at the same time. We know that lots of conversations are happening around the tax relief and tax extenders issue," McGreevy told the Capitol Hill newspaper. "It's not hard to keep legislators on track about this but certainly the trade associations have been working together to keep the issue top of mind."

If you support the tax relief and are so inclined, you might let your members of Congress know. Soon. 

But just in case, you might want to stock up on your favorite adult libation, particularly those special holiday brews showing up about now, before the price possibly goes up in 2020.

You also might find these items of interest:

Beer excises taxes across the United States

10 beers to try despite their states' high alcohol taxes

U.S. and France reach deal that saves French wines from U.S. tariffs

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