#new banner graphic who dis

[ofspvrta]

Kassandra and social cues

Kassandra wasn't always the most socially graceful even in her mortal years, but immortality had added an extra level of social awkwardness to the misthios. Having to navigate an ever-changing world while not fully being a part of it means she doesn't always grasp or understand what she should say or do in certain social situations. She can come off as awkward or rude without intending to be. Sometimes it's hard to fit in with humans when her entire being sometimes feels so utterly removed from it.

[phoward89]

Banner by me, dividers by @saradika-graphics

Based on this ask

Young!President!Coriolanus Snow x Innocent!Reader

Coriolanus Snow was the youngest president in Panem’s history. He was cunning, charming, and very, very smart. Which is why he's the youngest man to hold the presidential office.

But that's not truly the reason why he's President Snow at the tender age of 25.

No….

He's the youngest president because he's a ruthless man. An evil man.

A snake that strikes both friend and foe with poison.

Nobody was safe from Coriolanus’ poisonous fangs.

Well, nobody, except his First Lady.

And you just happened to be First Lady Snow. The president's sweet, innocent wife who never saw his true colors.

Coriolanus, who you often called Coryo and even Snowflake (he'll kill anyone if they giggle, laugh, or snigger if in ear shot of you using the term of endearment for him), made sure that you viewed him as a loving gentleman. He never wanted you to see the cruel side of him.

You met him when you were both kids, before he became tainted and corrupted by the harsh cruelness of the world. You never experienced the cruelness of the world, being a bit sheltered by your family.

You were innocent, like a little dove.

And that's what drew Coriolanus to you. Your innocence enthralled him, memorized him even.

He made it his mission to keep all the horrors of the world away from you, to keep you innocent and naive.

Hell, you truly believed that he helped Lucy Grey win during his mentorship because he cared. You had no idea that he was thinking with his wrong head; wanted to get under her skirts.

You didn't know that he was sentenced to 20 years as a peacekeeper for his crime of cheating during the 10th Hunger Games. You truly believed his bullshit lie of wanting to follow in his father's footsteps (his father, Crassus Snow had been a general).

So, sweet, innocent, naive little you always believed what your Coryo told you. He was your perfect gentleman, your Snowflake, and you had no reason not to trust him.

President Snow, for all his faults and evil deeds, loved you with every fiber of his overly obsessive being. It's why he's done everything in his power to keep you from being corrupted by the world.

It's also why he had, nicely, forbid you from entering his office. Coriolanus gave you the excuse that he didn't want to be distracted from his duties of ruling over Panem, but in reality he couldn't risk you walking in on him while he had business meetings.

Some of which almost always ended with his visitor slumped over a teacup.

Dead.

Today tho, well, you didn't heed his warning and decided to visit him in his office instead of waiting for him to return to the living quarters.

You found out very exciting news and wanted to share it with him right away.

You put on a pretty pink dress, pulled your hair half back into a large bow (the way he preferred it), and picked some roses from the prized rose garden for the special announcement.

You happily made your way down the hall towards his office. His staff ignored you, knowing better to even look at you twice.

The staff wanted to live to see the next Yule season, thank you very much.

When you opened the door, you saw that your husband had a guest in his office. The man, who was stout with black hair; wearing a powder blue suit, was slumped over on your husband's desk.

President Snow wiped at the corner of his mouth with his handkerchief (his beloved one that you made special for him, embroidered with a light blue snowflake and his initials in maroon red thread) his icy blue eyes flickering up to the door to see who had walked in. He gave his staff specific orders not to be disturbed. He was ready to chew out whoever had walked it, but any and all retorts he had in the tip of his tongue had died when he saw you.

His precious, innocent, little dove.

Before he could ask what’s wrong (he knew something was wrong because you knew his office was off limits and wouldn't just walk in unless it was an emergency), you pointed to the man slumped over the desk and asked, “Coryo, is he passed out?”

“Oh, my little dove, don't worry about him. He just can't handle his liquor.” Coryo told you, even though the glasses on the desk were teacups and not rocks glasses typically used for liquor.

But of course, you believed your husband. He has no need to lie to you, has he?

Coriolanus stood up from his desk, only to walk over to you. “You know you're not allowed in here while I'm working, Y/N.” He reminded you as he stopped right in front of you. Your husband towers over you, taking in how you were all dolled up and had a bouquet of roses in hand. Arching a brow, he asked, “Is something the matter?”

“Oh, Snowflake, I know I'm not supposed to bother you while you're doing your presidential work, but I was so excited to tell you something.” You honestly told him, a bright smile on your face, as you handed him the roses.

“I'm usually the one who presents you with roses, my love.” Coriolanus chuckled, only to take the offered bouquet. “What's this exciting news that couldn't wait?” He asked, placing his large, calloused hand on your cheek only to caress your cheekbone with his thumb.

“I'm pregnant!” You joyfully smiled up at him.

“That's wonderful news, my little dove.” Your Coryo cooed, pressing a kiss to your lips. He grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together, and suggested, “Let's go celebrate this happy news with lunch in the sunroom.”

“Okay, but what about your guest? Shouldn't we wake him up?” You innocently asked, gesturing to the man lying dead on your husband's mahogany desk.

“I'll have one of the staff tend to him, Y/N.” Your husband assured you while leading you out of his office.

Little did you know what he really meant by that. But why would you, your husband's only ever showed you a soft, loving, gentleman. He's never shown you his true nature of being an evil, cruel, manipulative, murderous man.

Coriolanus is a snake, but to you he's Coryo, your Snowflake.

And he'll always be that to you since you'll forever be his sweet, innocent, little dove of a wife.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere ,@savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans, @sudek4l, @wearemadeofstardust0, @mashiromochi, @gracieroxzy, @belcalis9503, @shari-berri, @aoi-targaryen, @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1

[sailoryooons]

Obsidian | Series Masterlist | myg (m)

☾ Pairing: Yoongi x f. reader

☾ Summary: You remember everything. The first time you radiated at garnet, feeling the power of the jewel rushing through you. Remember the energy pulsing at your command. And you certainly remember the face of the man who ruined your life. Then there’s Min Yoongi, the Chaotic who is the key to your revenge. 

☾ Total Word Count: 10,020

☾ Genre: Urban fantasy, criminal/syndicate, strangers to lovers, angst, eventual smut

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Series Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence and death, graphic depictions of blood and dismemberment, violent crimes, criminal enterprises, anarchist themes, semi-intense world building, sexually explicit content, explicit language, morally grey characters, themes of revenge and angst. This series is about people who are criminals and taking down a criminal empire that does not benefit them. They are not always good people. Dead dove do not eat.

☾ A/N: This series is currently being re-worked. Also - the banner has a misspelling that I'm too lazy to fix because a new one is coming.

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Masterlist | Ask | Playlist | Tag Lists

THIS FIC IS BEING RE-WRITTEN

Preface

→ Min Yoongi dies. Agust is born.

One: The Tangerine Thief

→ An emerald caste destroys your bar. Enter Agust D.

Two: A Whispered Name

→ You want to learn more about Agust. You learn his name whispered in smoke.

[andydrysdalerogers]

Cross-Checked ~ Chapter 19

Andy Barber x OFC Leighton "Leia" Andrews

Summary:

Andy Barber is having the best year of his life. His game is on point. It’s gets to play with his best friend and his fiancé just... dumped him?!. 

Reeling from a sudden change in status, Andy decides it’s time to just focus on hockey. Until his best friend's sister comes out with news that rock the entire organizations world., 

Andy has always carried a torch for the untouchable Leighton but in her hour of need, is now the time to shoot and score or risk getting cross - checked again? 

Warnings: Cheating (but not by the MCs); slow burn; friends to lovers eventually; SMUT!; pregnancy; jealousy; handsome goalies, evil exes...

A/N: The tag list is open! Also, so sorry to be behind on this one. Life got in the way for awhile but I'm back!

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Banners by me!

Previous: Chapter 18 ~ Daydream Believer

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 19 – Oh Good, You’re Home 

35 Weeks – Leia 

Ever heard the story of the scorpion and the frog? 

No? 

Quick side story.  There is a river and the scorpion trying to cross it. He sees the frog and says, “Hey Frog, do you think you can carry me across the river? 

The frog says, “No way, you’ll just sting me in the middle of the river, and I’ll die.” 

“No, I won’t because I want to get across. I promise I won’t sting you.”  

The frog begrudgingly accepts, and the scorpion climbs on him and they start to cross.  Halfway through the scorpion stings the frog . “Why did you do that? Now we’ll both die!” 

The scorpion just says, “Its just my nature.”  

Sometimes some people just can’t be trusted.  

Except, this is one person who I trusted before Andy.  

She had been my best friend.  And when my father died, I think she died with him. 

The woman at the door doesn’t look anything like the mother that raised me.  

“What are you doing here Mother?” I protected my bump as best I could.  

“I wanted to speak to you, Leighton.” She looked at my bump with a loving look. That’s different. 

“I have nothing to say to you or hear anything you have to say.” I moved to close the door, but she stopped me. 

“Leia-bear, just give me a few minutes.” Her eyes are pleading. Underneath all of the makeup and filler she has, I can see a flicker of the mother I used to know.  

“Five minutes,” I say and let her in.  

She glances around the living room.  It was different from the last time I saw her. Her gaze stops on the mantle. Over the fireplace is our favorite photo from my maternity shoot.  The one where Andy is cupping my face and kissing me softly. It was the perfect reminder of our love. “That’s a beautiful picture,” she finally says.  

“Thank you.” I sat back down and gave her a look.  “Why are you here? You made it very clear the last time I saw you that I am a disappointment at the choices that were half made for me and the ones I made to make sure my little girl is protected and loved.”  

“It’s a girl?” 

Dammit. I hadn’t meant for that to slip. “Yes.”  

“Congratulations.” She made a slight move towards me, like she wanted to touch my bump but stopped herself. “Leighton, I wanted to talk to you about Bret.”  

“What about him? I really hope that he went back to Japan.”  

“No, he’s still in town. He’s staying with me.”  

I sat up straighter. “What? Why would you do that?” Is she trying to kill me? He’s harboring my ex and my pregnant brain is on the fritz.  

“Well, he needed a place to stay for the few weeks that he is here since his house sold.” My mother straightens her diamond pendant on her necklace.  

“You understand that he is my ex and has nothing to do with my life or yours? Because he has no rights.”  

“I don’t understand what the problem is?” My mother scoffed.  

I don’t recognize the woman standing in front of me.  The mother that I remember was warm and caring. She made cookies and hot cocoa for my brother’s team after practice.  She took me to ballet and gymnastics, always with a snack. She made thanksgiving dinner and arts and crafts for Christmas.  Summer held snacks and games.  She was the mother most people dream about.  

I guess I was right. She died when my dad did.  

“You want to know the problem? Ok, here’s the problem. Your daughter was being controlled by a man that wanted a maid and nothing more.  That man told me my dreams were worthless.  That I wasn’t worth it. I told him about the baby, and I heard nothing. He doesn’t want me or my baby.  Did you know that I know he’s been having flings when we were together?  Yeah, that’s the dream man that you want me to be with.  Instead of being happy, you want me to be miserable.  Just because you’re miserable doesn't mean that I want that.”  

She’s silent but I don’t stop.  

“I know that it’s been hard since daddy died but we have been trying to support each other because that’s what family does.  You checked out and never came back. I didn’t know we became orphans that day, but we did. You don’t know me; you don’t want what’s best for me. Because you would want, I was able to get myself, a man who loves me, you encourage me, who supports me, who dreams with me, who cares for my daughter as if it were his own.”  

I took a breath and looked at her tear-filled eyes.  “If you don’t want me to be happy like I have found, then please leave me alone. Don’t come back.  Until you make up your mind, I need you to please leave.”  

I wiped at my face as my mother walked out the door. I sink onto the bench that’s by the door and try to calm my body. It was cathartic really. Getting all of the unspoken words out was good. I didn’t mean to get worked up but I can’t change that.  After I feel my breathing slowing down, I move to get up and I am rocked with a pain around my middle. “Shit,” i groan.  I wait to see if there is another pain, but it’s gone. I must have Braxton Hicks contractions.  

I move to call Andy and Luke but they go to voicemail so they must be in practice.  I sigh and move to get a drink. As I make it to the fridge, another pain seared across my bump. I hang on to the fridge handle as I ride this out.   

I reach for my baby book, trying to find advice on how to get myself out of these Braxton Hicks. Plenty of fluids, warm preferred and a bath.  I can do this; I can relax again.  I pull out the kettle and tea. Once I have that, I head upstairs to our bathroom. I love that Andy got a jacuzzi tub, but I just need the warmth. As the tub fills, I pull out my favorite lavender bubble bath and add it in. Soon, I’m neck deep in bubbles and I can feel myself relaxing.  But at the same time, I’m thinking about my mom.  

She seriously thinks I should be with someone who only saw me as arm candy and nothing more. That isn’t how I was raised, and she knows it. My dad treated her like an equal. He shared the responsibilities and made sure his family was taken care of. I don’t know who this pod-person is that looks my mother but she certain is not any longer. The thoughts bring another flash of pain in my belly. “Ok,” I say out loud as I stroke my belly, I’ll stop thinking about her. “Just relax, little one. Daddy isn’t here and you need to be patient to come out.”  

The pains come and go for the next couple of hours until I’m hit with one that last longer than the others. “Fuck, this hurts,” I mumble.  

That would be the least of my problems.  

Jeremy 

Being injured sucks.  

Getting a concussion sucks more.  

I can’t believe that Craig, my old teammate, had the balls to crash into me like he did. Now I’m out at least two weeks in concussion protocol.  At least my vision is ok, its just a lingering headache.  I’m in my apartment waiting for a call from Stella when the phone rings.  And I’m shocked to see who the caller is.  

“Leia?” 

“Jeremy, please tell me you’re home and you can drive?” 

I furrow my brow. “Oh yeah.”  

“Oh good. Because I’m home alone and my water just broke.”  

The fuck did she say? 

“Your water broke?” 

“Yeah, I think I’m in labor and I’m five weeks early.” I can hear the heavy breathing through the phone. “Please help me.”  

“I’m on the way.”  

This was not on my bingo card this year.  

I jump in my car and race to Andy and Leia’s.  I knock but the door opens.  “Leia?” 

“In here,” she calls from upstairs.  The woman is in labor and she’s upstairs.  Can’t be easy right? 

I take two stairs at a time and see Leia bent over the bed and breathing hard. I come up behind her and rub her back.  “Breathe, Leia.”  After a moment, she tries to stand. “Are you ok?” 

“Yeah,” she huffs. “That was the longest one so far.” She looks at me and I can see the pain in her eyes and the sweat on her brow. “I need to get to the hospital, and I can’t get a hold of Andy or Stella or my brother.” I can see she wants to cry.  

“Ok, I’ll call coach or the GM and get a hold of them. Let’s get you down the stairs and to the car, ok?” She nods before pointing to a bag on the floor.  

“I need that.”  

“I got it.” Then I take her hands and help her down.  Right in the middle, she gets hit with another contraction and withers.  I take hold of her as she grips my shirt. “It hurts,” she cries.  

“I know. I’m sorry I can’t be more help. Just breathe it out, ok? In one, two three four, out two, three, four.”  The contraction passes and I get her into the car.  I use the bluetooth and call Coach.  

“Swayman, I’m kinda...” 

“Andy’s girl is in labor. Leia is in labor and I’m taking her to Boston General.” 

“Holy... ok hang on. Barber, Andrews!” I can hear coach skate towards them.  “Get your shit together and get to the airport.  Leia is in labor.”   

“But she’s early,” I hear Andy say.  

“Just go,” Coach orders. “Jeremy is driving her there.”  I don’t hear anything from the guys.  “Sway, keep us updated.” 

“Will do Coach.”  I hang up and look at Leia. “You ok?”  

“I’m fine just uncomfortable. Jeremy, please don’t leave me.”  

I take her hand. “I’m right here, every step of the way.” 

Leia 

This is not how I thought I would be making my way to the hospital. But I won’t complain because Jeremy answered the call and brought me here. I’m so scared and in a lot of pain.  As Jeremy walks me into the hospital, another pain streaks through. I grip onto Jeremy’s hand and try to ride it out.  

“Holy fuck,” I hear him whisper. I want to laugh but the pain is overwhelming. It finally subsides and I let go. He shakes he hand out but gives me a tight smile. “It’s ok,” when he sees my eyes watering. “Its my glove hand. If it stays in that position, maybe it will help me stop the puck.”  

“I’m sorry,” I cry just as a nurse brings me a wheelchair. “I think I hurt him,” I told the nurse.  

“No, I’m fine,” Jeremy says, flexing his hand. “I wasn’t ready for it, but I am now.” He gives the nurse a smile. One I see he gives fans not his pickup one.  That’s odd.  

“Ok, let’s get your wife admitted,” she says.  

“Oh, no,” we both say. “My boyfriend is on his way. My friend is helping me.”  I give her a smile. “But he can stay with me right?” 

“Of course. We’ll just ask him to step out when we check on you.” She takes us up to labor and delivery and get me hooked up.  

“You talked to Andy?” I asked Jeremy.  

“Yeah, they were boarding from Toronto. He should be here in about three hours.”  

“Ok. My book says that first pregnancies can take up to twenty-four hours of labor because your body isn’t used to it so that gives us plenty of time.”  My doctor comes in right then.  

“Leia, I thought we had an agreement.” She gives me a smile and looks up and is startled. “Oh, I thought...” 

“Andy is on his way,” I explain. “Jeremy was home and...” 

“I get it.” Dr. Montgomery smiles. “Well, Jeremy, if you can step out for a moment.” 

“I’ll call Coach and give him an update.” He leans over and kisses the top of my head. “I’ll be right back, don’t freak out.” 

I smile and once he’s out the door I look at Dr. Montgomery.  “Tell me Andy has time.” 

The doc examines me and I don’t like the look on her face. “Leia, you are at 7 centimeters and full effaced. I’m guessing that we have max two hours before you are gonna start pushing.”  

“But, Andy isn’t here.  He has to be here to hold her and cut the cord.” I can hear the alarms going off on the monitors. “I... I can’t do this without him.” 

“Ok, sweetie, we need you to breathe.” Dr Montgomery takes my hand. “Get Jeremy back in here,” she orders a nurse. “Leia, you need to try to calm yourself.  You’re putting your self into tachycardia and making the baby’s heartbeat drop.”  

“I need him,” I cry as Jeremy runs back into the room.  “Jeremy, I can’t do this without him.”  

He sits and takes my hand. “I know, Leia, but you’re not alone, ok? You’re so strong, gorgeous. I’ll be right here, no matter what. I want to meet her, fresh from the oven.” That gets a giggle, which helps the monitors relax. “That’s it. Good girl.”  

“Talk to me. Tell me anything,” I tell him.  We spend the next couple of hours talking, forgiving, forgetting. Suddenly, another alarm goes off. “Jeremy?” 

“I don’t know,” he says as a nurse rushes in to check the alarm.  

“Page Dr. Montgomery!” she yells as other nurse come in.  “Ok Leia, we need to put you on your side, right now.  Jeremy, come to this side.” There is a flurry of activity, and I can feel myself panicking.  

“Jeremy?” He takes my hand. “What’s happening?” He asks no one in particular.  

Dr. Montgomery rushes in and looks at the report the nurses. “Ok, Leia, if the baby doesn’t respond to the body change in the next few minutes, I’m going to take you in for an emergency c-section.”  

My eyes are wide with fear, and I can see it on Jeremy’s face as well.  “He’s not going to make it,” I whisper, resigned. 

“I’m sorry Leia, but if you are ok with it, I’ll be in there with you.” Jeremy squeezes my hand.  

A few minutes later, I hear, “I’m sorry Leia. Get her ready for transport and find some scrubs for Jeremy.” I see everyone moving to get me set up for the surgery. Jeremy gets handed a blue bundle of clothes and leaves for a second.  Then I’m being wheeled out and to the operating room.  

This is it.  

I’m sorry Andy. 

And I pray that my daughter is ok.  

NEXT

Taglist:

@patzammit @texmexdarling @slutforchrisjamalevans @firephotogrl74 @tinkerbelle67 @before-we-get-started @bunnyforhim @alexakeyloveloki @sunnyhummingbee @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @peaceinourtime82 @saucy-sassy-sparkly @kmc1989 @kandis-mom @lokislady82

[justforbooks]

Kate Hepburn

Designer and artist who worked for Spare Rib, the Monty Python team and Pink Floyd

In a career that spanned half a century, the graphic designer Kate Hepburn, who has died aged 77 of multiple system atrophy, displayed great versatility. While an artist aims to develop a distinctive and recognisable style, a designer must be able to alter their approach and technique according to the situation. Hepburn was adept at this, working in fields including leftwing causes, music, comedy and publishing.

In 1970, during Kate’s first year of study at Royal College of Art, London, her sister Alison married Terry Jones of the Monty Python team. This led to Kate working with Terry Gilliam on the animations that punctuated the television comedy series Monty Python’s Flying Circus; in particular he recalled her skill in drawing medieval figures. For The Brand New Monty Python Bok (1973), with its misspelled title, she designed a dust jacket smeared with fingerprints. Those who believed the jacket to be genuinely dirty could discard it – revealing the explicit mock-cover of Tits ’n Bums, “a Weekly Look at Church Architecture”.

The Python books co-designed by Hepburn show her brilliance at recreating anything, from the photo-love stories of girls’ comics, complete with deliberately abysmal picture quality, to classifieds to children’s books to Victorian play manuscripts. She would switch typesetting methods – Linotype for one pastiche, rub-down lettering for another – to achieve the authentic flavour.

In 1972, Hepburn joined the staff of the new feminist magazine Spare Rib. Its format and grid were worked out by Sally Doust, a co-designer. Hepburn’s first contribution was its logo, which the magazine’s co-founder Marsha Rowe said was made “with a mix of typeface and free hand. She designed ‘Spare’ in smaller type, jutting up against the ‘Rib’, the ‘ib’ sloping forward, with a jagged force, resonant of bone.” This reassured Rowe that her choice of title, initially a joke, was the right one. Rowe wanted to attract “women readers who were still nervous of Women’s Liberation”, and Hepburn understood that some camouflage was needed, believing that “the magazine’s design and choice of photos should look like other women’s magazines, only with different content”.

Hepburn left the magazine in January 1973, later telling Rowe that she had “begun to feel the strain of the contradiction in working for Monty Python, which still had an element of sexism, and for Spare Rib”.

In 1974, Hepburn began her occasional work for Pink Floyd. Before a tour of Japan, the drummer Nick Mason asked Hepburn to adapt Hokusai’s The Great Wave off Kanagawa for his drumkit. “I had the idea, but she picked it up and took it into a 3D world.” Of her oeuvre in general, Hepburn told me that there was a lot of pastiche. But pastiche is a craft in itself, and artworks such as Mason’s drumkit, which Hepburn painted by hand, went beyond pastiche – here, by reinventing a two-dimensional graphic as a sequence of three-dimensional cylinders sitting adjacent in space.

From 1975, Hepburn contributed cover and book designs to the leftwing publisher Pluto Press, often working through the night to meet deadlines. Her designs for editions of Pluto’s themed Big Red Diary show her skill in collaging images from disparate sources to create a dynamic, coherent whole.

In the 1980s, Hepburn’s work branched out into stage design, in collaboration with her then partner Mark Fisher. Her work for Jean-Michel Jarre’s 1981 tour of China featured banners printed using rudimentary Chinese printing, airbrushed posters on canvas and the cover of the consequent live album. This work earned her two D&AD awards.

Born in Blackheath, London, Kate was the daughter of Margaret (nee Hope) and James Telfer. After her parents separated, she lived with her mother in Hampstead. Margaret later married James Hepburn, whose RAF job required the family to move frequently. In 1960 they finally settled in Parliament Hill, London, where Kate attended Camden school for girls. There she adopted Hepburn’s name, thinking it a better one for an artist.

After a year at Bath Academy of Art, she enrolled in 1966 as a graphic design student at the Central School of Arts and Crafts (now part of the University of Arts London), where she received rigorous training in drawing layouts and type by hand: “You had to hand-rule the text with your Rapidograph pen, and trace 7-point type. It was a very lengthy process, devoted at times.” Making thumbnails and sketches had remained important throughout her career, as “a way of letting the client know that you hadn’t taken expensive decisions using actual materials. You were still drawing, still discussing with them.”

At Central, Hepburn began a relationship with fellow student Pearce Marchbank, whose pioneering work for underground magazines applied radical graphic techniques to politically radical content. Early in their careers both Hepburn and Marchbank had to find ways to achieve maximum visual impact with rudimentary means, for clients who had little money. After the couple separated, Marchbank’s technical knowhow remained a valuable resource. In 1987 they collaborated with Roger Waters on his album Radio K.A.O.S., a cover that converts Waters’ name and track titles to morse code. This needed only two inks and no images, contrasting with the extravagantly staged imagery used by other stadium acts at the time.

In later years Hepburn continued with her watercolour paintings, and screenprints of abstract designs conceived during her student days. Despite periods in which she worked in-house – notably at Wolff Olins brand consultancy – her calling was that of a freelance designer and artist whose vocabulary allows them to switch style to fit the circumstances.

She is survived by her daughter, Usha, her grandchildren, Maya and Manu, and her sisters, Alison and Harriet.

🔔 Kate Hepburn, graphic designer and artist, born 11 June 1947; died 26 July 2024

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[missacidburn928s-heathenhideaway]

Epilogue (SinsDC)

Epilogue

Avengers x POC!Reader "Nyx"

POC!Reader "Nyx" x ?

Summary:

In the light of a new day, the past comes to darken your door.

Warnings:

18+ Only MDNI, Implied Smut

Notes:

I just couldn't help myself with this one. It's going to be fun see how this all pans out in the main fic. Happy Reading Heathens! 😈

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Banner by @cafekitsune

Wiping the fog from your bathroom mirror, you take a step back admiring the evidence from the prior night's arduous activities. A story written along your flesh of the relationships that have built over time. Relationships that have shifted from more than just lust and mutual respect to something more. Something you are not quite ready to think about or admit.

Throwing on your tiny black silk robe, you pull your hair up into a messy bun and head out into the hall. Making your way to the surveillance office where Jensen, your favorite muscly little tech nerd is reviewing all the footage from last night. Including all of your amorous activity.

“How do you want these packaged up Boss? This is delicate material. Wouldn’t want it falling into the wrong hands.”

“Encrypt it and send it to my private server along with a physical copy of each delivered to my quarters. Then delete any trace of them. We can never be too careful.”

At that moment Wade struts through the office door. “Nyx! You’ll never guess who I have with me.”

An imposing figure steps into the room. Your eyes take in the dirty brown boots, tight blue jeans held up by a belt with a large buckle, and well worn white tank topped with a leather jacket. Stopping at a bearded face you know all too well.

“Hello Logan. Long time no see.” You greet the smirking man.

“Well didn't you fill out nicely, little one?”

“Want to give this body a test run? I think I might be able to finally best you old man. Even with those stabby stabby’s.” You tease.

“We talking hand to hand or something more?” He quirks a brow.

“Are you telling me your body is on the table as well Mr. Howlett? You can’t tease a blood thirsty girl like that. It’s downright cruel.”

“Still holding that torch for me pup?”

“The flame never extinguished. No matter how many times you tried to douse it by fucking all my friends. I had to hear about your stamina and prowess quite frequently. Only piqued my curiosity all the more that you wouldn’t let me take a ride. Especially knowing how well I could take those claws of yours.”

“You were too young, pup. Plus you were off limits. I wasn't going to cross Madam or Cliff. Those women should have been thanking you by the way.”

“And why is that?”

He steps forward so that your barely covered breasts graze his abdomen. Releasing a single adamantium claw as he runs it along your thigh, slightly lifting your short silk robe in the process.

“That bratty attitude you had at 18 accompanied with the skills you already acquired was quite the aphrodisiac. Left me pent up after every session. Needed somewhere to release that tension and Madam offered up her girls in return for my continued training with you.”

You fidget with the tie of your robe. Uncaring of the two men still in the room witnessing this rare moment of vulnerability. “You disappeared when they died. I was left to my own devices. The bloodlust got the better of me and for a minute there I was lost in the haze. I looked for you, ya know?”

“I know bub. Got real close a couple times too.”

“I’m still mad at you.”

“Let me make it up to you then? I’ll even let you get a free shot in.”

You quickly grab his wrist, claw gleaming in the office light, and stab him in his left thigh.

“SON OF A BITCH!” He roars out. “You vicious little wench. I wasn’t ready.”

You laugh in his face as he retracts his claw. “Quit your bitchin. You’re already healing. Plus you deserved it. Now.” You place your hands on this heaving chest. “Are you going to let me kiss it better?”

He wraps a hand around your throat. Teasing his thumb along your throbbing pulse point. “Just remember, curiosity killed the cat.”

“Well good thing this pussy can handle losing a few lives.” You grin up at him. “Jensen, I’ll be retiring to my private quarters. Make sure the sound proofing is set to high. I am not to be disturbed for the next 48 hours unless someone is bleeding or needs to be, understand?”

“Roger that. Need me to cut the video feed as well?” Jensen adds.

“No.” You look up at Logan. “You can keep it running. Link the live feed to Tony’s office as well. Hide it but make it obvious you're doing so.”

“You know Rogers is going to hate that. Take it as a challenge. He doesn't like to share outside of his team.” Logan pipes up.

“It’ll be a good reminder that I am not exclusively theirs when outside of the club then won’t it. Plus I like when the Captain is angry. The lack of control is delicious.”

“You devilish little minx. You’re going to make me regret ever leaving you behind aren't you?”

 “I promise you’re going to love every tortuous second of it.”

“You’ve got to let me watch.” Wade blurts out.

“You better hurry up and make it to the tower then, Wade. Be sure to send the team my regards.”

[stiffyck]

I am blaming @/chemdisaster for this and have decided to share it with you bc, ya know what, Scar deserves to go a little apeshit over the death of Pizza. I have not written the comfort yet. Oh, and warning for graphic description of animal death and animal corpse.

--

Scar only stared in disbelief at the Red Army. Grian was yelling at him about doing something, but Scar only heard static noise. They weren’t aiming at him. They were aiming at Pizza. Her beady eyes gawked at him, and it was only then he could unfreeze and march towards her. 

Grian petted Pizza’s fur, the only place deprived of red. She brayed painfully, barely standing, as one more arrow nested itself in her. Scar placed his hand in front of her face and untied the leash around the pole, feeling her slimy tongue licking his palm.

“She’s gonna die,” Grian’s voice barely reached his ears with the flying arrows going past him, one lodging in his leg. 

Scar grunted, and looked back at the Red Army. “One more arrow and you’re all dead!”

An arrow hissed too close to his ear. He dodged and immediately regretted it.

“NO!” Grian yelled as a bray echoed in his ears. 

Scar dared to look back and didn’t see any white fur at his eye level. No, Pizza’s body laid on the sand, beady eyes wide open, arrow in her throat, tainting her white fur red, just like their stupid banner. Scar choked back a sob, legs trembling, tension in his neck screaming just as hard as Pizza did in her last moments, hips dragging him to the world’s core. 

A ping pierced his ears, some shuffling accompanying it. 

“Red winter is here,” Grian read. 

Scar looked back at the fleeing army, fists clenched. “Grian,” he croaked, mouth dry. 

His partner hummed, already by his side for Scar to lean on him. Scar shook his head. 

“I think I need to kill one of them,” he practically growled. 

It would’ve come eventually. The urge to see blood on his hands, caused by him. Having Ren’s head looking back at him in horror, Scar spitting in his face, knowing a head detached from its body couldn’t do anything about it. Slay Martyn with his new shiny netherite sword, fed by his screams of terror as he died the same way Pizza did, without any hesitation or cause. Burning their enchanter, burning their “palace”, drowning them in lava and hearing their cries of pain and mercy. It was inevitable. No, they did not deserve mercy.

-- bloop anon whos totally not looking for praise and going insane over this fic

OUGHHHH NOT PIZZA WJDJDJSKAK OH MY GODDDD

[satashiiwrites]

Snippet Sunday

Tagging anyone who wants to play.  @quietborderline @missanniewhimsy @monsterrae1? @outtoshatter​ @tkwritesdumbassassins​ ? No pressure as always. 

Btw this 2 part end chapter is going to end up in at least 3 parts. ��Possibly 4.  This fic is getting finished this week damnit. 

Graphic banner by @radio-chatter​

Title: Promise Me You Won’t Let Me, Chapter XI

Fandom: Wheel of Time (mostly Tv series but borrows from books)

Pairing: Cauthor (Rand al’Thor/Mat Cauthon), prior Egwene al’Vere/Rand al’Thor, implied pre-Egwene al’Vere/Perrin Aybara

Fic summary:

Mat can feel that his time is limited but he’s got one thing he needs to do before he lets the darkness that is eating him bit by bit take him. Rand is desperate to help his best friend who is fading right before his eyes—he’s been cut off from everything else but he can’t lose Mat.

The wheel may weave as it wills and sometimes two threads become tangled and inseparable. Or maybe they were always meant to twine together to make a new pattern.

Warnings/tags: sad ending—will continue into season 2 with sequel. Rand is an angsty mess like always. 

“Rand,” Perrin’s call of his name was repetitive, and his good friend’s expression was concerned. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing. Just… we’re likely all going to die.”  

“This whole city is likely going to die,” Perrin agrees. “They’re mobilizing.”

Rand had noticed that. It had been a short walk here, but the city was busy. Everything that could be packed was being so, and a mass exodus of women and children was already beginning. Those that could run were doing so while the rest would stay and fight. 

“In some ways, it feels like we died on Winternight,” Perrin adds, taking a deep pull off his ale. “I keep waiting for it.”

There’s nothing to say—he understands what Perrin is saying. Layla died that night, and they’ve been on the run ever since.  

From the corner of his eye, Rand notices Moiraine keeps looking over at their table while talking with the barmaid. The barmaid’s eyes are narrowed as if she’s studying them, and his skin crawls.  

Something is up.  

Moiraine is up to something. 

Egwene and Nynaeve are murmuring quietly to each other, taking comfort from each other after so long apart. Rand knows that Egwene wants comfort from him, but he’s struggling to want to give it to her, so she’s taking it from another source. Part of him also wants that from her, but he feels it would be a betrayal to Mat to do so, even if it would be easy to slip into old habits. 

No. That’s why… he’s pretty sure Mat didn’t come through the gate because he’d let Egwene hang off his arm. He’d forgotten for a moment, and Mat had seen it and gotten the wrong idea. 

Quietly, he admitted to himself that he had failed Mat. He’d forgotten for just a moment and hurt him. There hadn’t been time to correct that mistake, and now Mat was so far away.  

He wished Mat was here. He wanted the comfort of his presence. It wasn’t the same being around Perrin or Egwene anymore as they hadn’t… they hadn’t been with him and Mat, and they couldn’t be what Mat was to him. 

Rand wondered if it had been like that between Perrin and Layla, but he doubted it. Theirs had been a typical Two Rivers marriage, the apprentice and the blacksmith’s daughter. Familiarity and it made financial sense for them to marry. Expected even just as Rand was expected to end up with Egwene and Mat was to be the village ne’er-do-well.  Rolls cast for them since they were small children by their parents and their choices. 

Winternight had changed their pre-determined pattern weaves. Egwene had already been pulling away to be a Wisdom, but the attack had brought with it the clarity needed for Rand to be with Mat, and he wondered if Perrin had some clarity of his own. 

Perrin had always been fond of Egwene… 

Rand eyed the two of them. They were close but Egwene was still clinging to him at every opportunity.  He wasn’t jealous and when he thought about it, he was fine with them being together if that was what they both wanted although he doubted Egwene was going to give up being an Aes Sedai for Perrin if she hadn’t wanted to give up being a Wisdom for Rand. 

Moiraine finished talking with the barmaid and she had that frustrated little line on her forehead as she joined them. “Drink up then get some rest.  We’ll head out in the morning.”

“Who is she?” Rand asked, pointing at the barmaid. “You know her?”

“She’s an old friend,” Moiraine dodged the question, proving there was something she didn’t want to tell them, piquing his interest further. 

Before Rand could ask what kind of old friend she was, Moiraine was slipping away to join Lan at the other table. 

“She doesn’t want to tell us anything,” Rand muttered. 

“Part of the mystique,” Perrin agreed. 

Egwene took offense.  “She doesn’t have to tell us everything.  She’s an Aes Sedai!”

Perrin and Rand exchanged knowing looks.  Just because Moiraine could channel didn’t make her a deity. The stories were full of warnings about getting tangled in Aes Sedai business and they’d done that.  Blind obedience to Moiraine could be dangerous. 

“Just because you want to be one doesn’t mean we should just do everything Moiraine says,” Rand tells Egwene. 

Egwene’s eyes blaze and she stiffens in her seat, putting more space between them on the bench. “You don’t mean that.”

[ao3feed-drstrange]

Stark Contrast

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/AwWEHXN by rose_petal5 | Canon AU | When Alexa Stark finally made it to Manhattan, she couldn't hep but feel intimidated. Her father never spoke about her existence in public, never wanted to be photographed with her for some reason, and when he finally donned the Iron Man helmet, he straight up disappeared from her life altogether. But then the Snap happened, right as Alexa's mother died. But when she finally made it to New York, she didn't expect the chemistry and attraction she would feel for both of her floor-mates; Steve Rogers and James 'Bucky' Barnes. But Alexa has always been haunted by ghosts, including a dangerous ex-boyfriend, who doesn't plan on letting her go anytime soon. Words: 5931, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English Fandoms: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Captain America (Movies) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con Categories: F/M, Multi Characters: Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes, Tony Stark, Stephen Strange, Pepper Potts, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Clint Barton, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Bruce Banner, Wanda Maximoff, Vision (Marvel), Original Female Character(s) Relationships: Steve Rogers/Original Female Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Original Female Character(s) Additional Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Threesome - F/M/M, Alternate Universe - Canon, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Human Trafficking, Rough Sex, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Protective Tony Stark, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve Rogers, Dark Steve Rogers, Dark Bucky Barnes, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Parent Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes Has PTSD read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/AwWEHXN

[saratogaroadwrites]

Per Aspera Ad Astra (2/18)

Per Aspera Ad Astra | saratogaroad | banner art credit Rating: T Wordcount: 183k Characters: John 117, Cortana, Thomas Lasky, Sarah Palmer, Fireteam Osiris, The Warden Eternal, The Didact, The Librarian, ensemble of other Halo characters Relationships: John-117 & Cortana Other Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, fix-it, Male/Female Friendship, Canon-Typical Violence Warnings:  War imagery, seizures, graphic description of injury

Snatched from the jaws of death, Cortana and John find themselves adrift in a galaxy that has long since moved on. As they attempt to find their place in this strange new world, they find that the fight is not as over as they thought. Chasing a signal across the galaxy in desperate hope, they come to a stark conclusion: the Reclamation has begun, and they are helpless to stop it.

=

Dappled moonlight spread across the forest floor, shifting as a gentle breeze blew through the branches overhead. Four figures crept forward through the dim light, rifles at the ready and eyes scanning their surroundings. The man at the head of the small group made quick, sharp gestures with one hand, separating his four man team into two units. One went left, continuing into the trees, while the other went right and out into the open clearing ahead. Standard flanking maneuver; useful under most circumstances.

These weren't most circumstances.

The two man unit stepped into the clearing. Without trees to block it, the moonlight lit up their dark techsuits. Fallen leaves crunched beneath their heavy boots as they slowly walked forward, scanning the treeline for any sign of their target. They'd made it further than any other team thus far, and that was clearly making one of them nervous. He stopped in his scan, lowering his rifle and turning to his companion.

"Okay, seriously. This feels way too easy—"

Whatever complaint Spartan Buck had been about to finish died in a startled grunt as the round hit his chest with a solid thud, bright blue paint exploding across his front. He stumbled backwards but kept his footing, turning to face the shot, only for a second one to clip the right side of his jaw. Balance thoroughly thrown, his second stumble turned into a graceless fall onto his back. Metal thudded beneath him and he lay there groaning. Spartan Locke grimaced as he darted for cover.

"Buck's down," He barked into his radio, "Shots fired from north side of the arena."

"Again?", came the groan on the radio channel as the other remaining members of Fireteam Osiris picked up the pace through the trees. Spartan Vale added a snarky, "Keep this up and they'll start calling you Blue, Buck!"

Buck's less than polite grumbling was covered by a third round striking the tree Locke had hidden behind. He threw Buck a shrug and half-sympathetic glance, then bolted east to try and flank the target from the other side. Buck was left to groan on the falsified forest floor, using his feet to push himself along and out of the clearing. He hadn't gotten halfway to his target before he found himself looking up into an unimpressed blue face.

"You're dead, Spartan," Cortana said dryly, arms crossed over her chest. "Dead people don't crawl away."

Rifle abandoned at his side, Buck threw an arm over his eyes.

"Ah, Blue," He complained, the very anti-thesis of dead, "You're killin' me here. How many times is this?"

"Fifteen." She crouched down above his head, flicking a finger at the small red light mounted to his shoulder. The gesture turned the code from a 3 to a 0. It flashed once, then went dead. "Stay put."

Leaving Buck where he lay, Cortana returned her focus to John, a half dozen other processes monitoring the progress of the remaining three Spartan IV fireteams still making their way through the woods. Three minutes left on the training exercise and not one had closed a hundred meters. Sloppy work, that.

"Bets on who goes down next?" She asked.

John loaded another round into his sniper rifle, the stand balanced on a boulder. "Majestic 3," He replied, sighting halfway down the field. He wasn't Linda who could have picked the wings off a fly at five hundred meters, but he could hit the targets before him just fine. "Leaves his right side open."

"Majestic 2 tends to cover that for him," Cortana noted, leaning back against a nearby tree. "Not that he should have to. Didn't they train these Spartans to watch their own flanks?"

"We're working on it." A blue eye flicked to her. In just his techsuit and BDU's, John almost blended into the dappled shadows of the AR construct. It made the goal of this mission—finding and eliminating him under a strict time limit—that much harder. Maybe a little too hard; this set of mission parameters had been in rotation for a week, and so far only Fireteam Crimson had actually managed to complete it. They weren't in the rotation today. "You're biased."

"Oh, absolutely and completely." Cortana teased, though she was serious about it. Each and every Spartan IV was a good soldier, the best and brightest of the UNSC. Strong, swift, brave, and well trained. They had to have been to have outlasted the war. She'd have trusted any of them with her life, bet on any of them to come out on top in a real firefight, and knew they could all come out alive and well at the end of any Covenant skirmish. They were Spartans. She'd be among the first to defend them from anyone saying they weren't.

They just weren't her Spartans.

It wasn't a fair comparison to make. No one could ever compete with a II, even if he tied one hand behind his back.

Leaning her head back against the tree, she watched through multiple sets of eyes as the three fireteams still standing made their way forward. Locke had rejoined with his remaining teammates, while Fireteam Majestic made a break for the next clearing. John sighted down his rifle, aiming for Majestic 3's chest, but he didn't bother pulling the trigger. Cortana sighed as a distant explosion thudded through the air; the process keeping an eye on them had a clear view of the paint bomb that had just gone off under their feet, knocking them all back and coating them in bright blue paint.

"Fireteam Majestic, that's a total kill," the process said to them, "Quit the field, Spartans."

Heckling cheers and boos from the distant audience followed the team off the field. Cortana crossed her arms and gave John an unimpressed look. His shoulders lifted in a half shrug as he switched targets to Fireteam Kodiak, who had taken advantage of the situation to close the gap. They were at four hundred meters and closing, with just under a minute and a half to go. They could still make it if they hurried.

And if they didn't get shot down like targets, she added to herself as John fired four shots in quick succession. Kodiak 1, 3, and 4 went down hard. Kodiak 2 dodged at the last second, splattered with paint off her teammate's falling bodies, and she vanished into the trees. Close, but no cigar. John reloaded, and with one more crack of his sniper rifle he blasted Kodiak 2 back with a single shot the moment she popped out of cover. She fell back with a startled cry, landing hard on her back. Majestic was still a groaning heap in the clearing, and Osiris' three standing members were—there.

Also too far. Cortana rolled her eyes as the buzzer rang.

"Time's up!" Came the voice of Spartan Commander Sarah Palmer, "On your feet, Majestic. You're Spartans, so act like it."

Four groaning "yes ma'am"s coincided with Majestic picking themselves up off the floor. John got back to his feet, rifle still in hand, as the AR simulation around them faded away. Trees became metal columns, boulders platforms, and it all folded back into the floor of S-Deck 2. With the exercise now over, the "fallen" Spartans that littered the field began to clamber back to their feet. The paint splatters remained, mostly on chests but some on necks or faces. Buck was scrubbing at his jaw.

"Did you have to nail me in the face?" He asked as John made his way forward, Cortana a pace behind him. "I swear, this stuff gets everywhere. Last time I was washing it out from behind my ears!"

"You'd think that would teach you to keep your head in cover," Palmer said with a less than professional eyeroll. Cortana clasped her hands behind her back as the Commander's eye swept over the motley crew before her. "Can someone explain to me how is it that, out of over a hundred fireteams on rotation, only one team has ever gotten close enough to take the Chief down?"

Silence.

"That was a question, Spartans."

An unfair one. John glanced back at her; Cortana pressed her lips together. The idea of these missions was training. If that meant training by frustration, fine, but they were still training. It had only been six months. It had taken years for the IIs to get as good as they were. The IVs were good, but they could hardly be expected to be up to par with a II in just six months! She shifted her weight from foot to foot. Palmer looked to her.

"Something to say, Cortana?"

"Yes ma'am," Cortana held her head up high, "If I recall correctly, Commander, your orders were to treat you all like any other Spartans." She looked at the paint stained IV's all around them. "I'm happy to provide logs from the II's training records, but failure rates like this were pretty par for the course."

In their earliest missions. Palmer raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.

"Uh-huh. See—"

"And with all due respect, ma'am," Cortana cut her off before she could start to browbeat her Spartans again, "You weren't on the team that took the Chief down that time. If you want your teams to do it, maybe you should put your money where your mouth is and prove you can do it, too."

Soft oohs and hissed breaths rang through the deck. Cortana didn't flinch as Palmer looked her dead in the eye and smiled. It wasn't a friendly smile.

"You know what?" She cocked her head, "I think I will. Chief?"

The beginnings of a smile dropped off John's face so fast anyone else would have doubted it had ever been there to begin with.

"Ma'am?"

"You and me, right here, right now." Palmer rolled her shoulders, cracking her neck, "Let's settle this IVs versus IIs debate once and for all."

It would do that, at least. John turned to gesture Cortana back into position with him only for Palmer to interrupt with a sharp Ah! and raised hand.

"Just the two of us," She said, "If we don't get AI in our heads, neither do you."

Cortana didn't bother to correct her on that detail. Her chip was still docked in their quarters, nowhere near John's lace. If Palmer needed to believe the only reason no one had beaten John was because she was riding shotgun, well, she'd be in for a shock. She shared another look with John and watched the corner of his mouth tick upwards. He was going to have some fun.

"Standard rules," She said, taking one holographic stride past the Commander and towards the control terminal. Not that she needed it, but it would take her off the field. "First to ten points is the victor."

"Set the timer for ten minutes," Commander Palmer said, grabbing a paintball BR from the armory platform. She rolled her shoulders, checked the magazine, and set her chin with a smirk. "Probably only need half of that, but might as well be fair about it."

As if that would save her ego. Cortana kept a professionally blank expression as she looked back at her partner, arching a single eyebrow. He shrugged his left shoulder once, the sign of an all-clear, and she huffed out a soft laugh.

"Acknowledged," She said, giving the deck the orders. The platforms rose and fell at her command, reforming the forested arena and lifting the rest of them into spectator positions. Cortana crossed her arms over her chest to watch, tracking two Spartans in their element. There was no slow snipe and kill this time around, but a full on firefight through the moonlit trees. It took less than two seconds for rounds to be exchanged.

Not bad. Jury was still out on if it would be good enough.

"Ma'am, should we…" Spartan Thorne gestured forward at the shooting match a minute later, "Should we get involved?"

"That's sweet, Spartan, but the Chief can handle himself."

"Yes ma'am." Thorne smiled faintly, "I meant should we back up the Commander?"

Cortana laughed.

"Where do we stand with the Fireteams?"

"Fireteams Avalanche through Castle are showing marked improvement under the new regimen," Cortana's voice pierced the echo of water against the shower walls, clear and bright through the small quarters they had come to call home. "Crimson's off the charts, as usual, and Detroit through London are reaching their peaks."

"And Majestic?"

Silence. It was answer enough. Rinsing the last of the soap from his body, John turned off the water and stepped out of the stall. The seconds ticked by as he dried and dressed efficiently, folding the towel and returning it to its place. Rubbing the back of his neck, he stepped out of the small head and into the just slightly larger room that housed his bunk, foot locker, and bedside table with podium for Cortana. Leaning against the frame of the bulkhead, he watched her work. She was sitting in her usual position, legs crossed and holo-screens unfolded in front of her. He watched Majestic's latest combat sim play out, and watched as Spartan Hoya took three holographic shots to the head as he darted out of cover ahead of the rest of his team.

That had not been a good run.

"On their own, Spartans Thorne, Madsen, and Grant are improving, but Spartan Hoya is…" Cortana trailed off with a grimace before she found the right word. "Reckless. As for Spartan DeMarco, I'm not sure." Files and charts opened in front of her, data streaming by too fast for him to track. "There's something I can't quite put my finger on with this one." The file closed down and she glanced over her shoulder. "They're still bugging you, too."

It wasn't a question. John met her gaze, then tipped his head forward. Majestic did concern him; DeMarco had very little control over his team, Hoya had equally little control over his impulses, and Grant, Madsen, and Thorne were used to acting as soldiers, not Spartans. The five of them had the capability to be great, but only if they survived long enough to get there. Cortana closed her eyes.

"Right. I'll add more time with Majestic to the roster." Another file opened up. Pushing out of the door frame, he took the few strides towards his bunk. "They can have Crimson's slot since it's obvious they don't need our help."

"Only in paintball," John retorted, one corner of his mouth quirking upwards. "Blue isn't exactly their color."

"No, it's yours." Cortana shot back with a cheeky grin that lit up her entire face, "Considering you took a whole clip across your front."

John huffed quietly. She had the room to stand on that one: he'd completely frozen up during the round, the AR deck having been replaced with a foreign vista in the throes of war. Forerunner soldiers fighting armored beings, orders being barked in his ear and a voice in the back of his head saying that it was wrong, all wrong! It had lasted only for a second, but his lapse in attention had been long enough for Detroit 4 to to take advantage of and remove him from play. It had been a damn good shot and he'd been sure to say as much.

He was also sure that Cortana had noticed. She had given him the oddest look when he'd quit the field but had drawn no attention to it otherwise. He was still waiting for her to say something about it, but instead she dismissed all of her holo-screens and leaned towards him, raising an eyebrow.

"You gave up an admiralty position for paintball and AR missions." She shook her head in a mockery of disbelief. "I'm still not sure that was your wisest decision."

It was. It meant he got to spend more time with her.

"Admirals don't take combat missions," he said aloud, "Can you really see me behind a desk or leading from a bridge?"

"From a bridge? Yes. Doing paperwork…" Cortana wrinkled her nose. "Not really, no. Okay maybe you have a point," she raised a finger when one corner of his mouth quirked upwards again. "Don't grin at me, I can admit when you have a point and—" She stopped mid-sentence, "Company."

The tiny smile he had been considering dropped away as she got to her feet, stepping aside to allow access to a second hologram. Her blue glow began to war with the orange glow emanating from Roland's avatar; Infinity's ship-board AI, the man in the ancient aviator suit, popped up with a grin that quickly vanished.

"You know," He began, planting his hands on his hips, "I would seriously like to find out how you always know I'm showing up before I get here."

Cortana was just that good. Sharing a sidelong look with her, John added to the thought. She was just that protective, and the feeling was mutual. He watched as a polite but entirely false smile crossed her face.

"What can I say? We're just that good." She cocked her head. "Need something?"

"Oh, about a half million things, but I won't bore you with the details," Roland narrowed his eyes playfully at her as she grinned, "The Captain wants to see you two on the bridge ASAP. We've finally gotten our marching orders."

Finally. Nearly six months in Earth orbit, dealing with the recovery of the wreckage from the Mantle's Approach, the training of Spartan Fireteams, and coordinating efforts to gain a foothold on Requiem from so many light years away. It was the longest pre-mission brief either of them had ever had to deal with. Even Operation Red Flag had had less preparations before they would have enacted it, but things had been different then. As far as nearly everyone was concerned, the main threats to humanity were dead. Why couldn't they take their time to make sure everything went well?

Nearly six months was a very long time for the Didact to get himself re-established. How much longer did they have before he struck again?

"We're going to Requiem?" John asked.

Roland nodded, "That's what I'm hearing. Looks like those rumors on S-Deck were pretty true after all." He lowered his hands. "Captain's got a special, ears only mission for you two, though."

The pair of them shared another look. Cortana spread her hands in helpless confusion; she had no idea what this was about, either. Whatever it was, they were going into it blind.

Hardly anything new there.

"We'll be right there. Chief," Cortana smiled at him, though he could tell it was more concerned than amused. Something was bothering her. "I'll see you on the bridge. Try not to get lost this time."

"No promises," John replied, tipping his head in Roland's direction. "Roland."

"Master Chief," Roland replied with a crisp regulation salute and a not so regulation smile. He beamed at an amused Cortana and added, "Race you."

The pair of them vanished, taking their colored lights with them. John was left sitting on his bunk, eyes quickly adjusting to the stark overhead light. The headache curling over his right eye throbbed vengefully at the change. Rubbing the back of his neck, he gathered the small wrist-mounted tacpad from his bedside table and strode into the familiar halls of the S-Deck.

S-Deck was actually a bit of a misnomer. Taking up three of Infinity's fifty decks, the area reserved for Spartan use consisted of training facilities, AR decks, VR rooms, a mess hall, and almost an entire deck for sleeping quarters alone. The room that he and Cortana shared was one of the few with only a single bunk; most of the other rooms were meant to sleep an entire fireteam together, shared head included.

He wasn't sure if he should have been jealous of the other fireteams, or grateful he didn't have to beat anyone to shower before armoring up. Maybe he was a little of both. The way some of the crew still stared at him, like he was some sort of museum piece on display, settled uneasily beneath his skin. Most had long since stopped, having had their fill or having learned there was really nothing to see, but some of them…

Well. He tended to avoid the labs on a good day, anyway. Shaking off the thought, he called the elevator car that would take him across the length of the ship and to the bridge. Infinity was a well-oiled machine. The car came swiftly, empty as everyone scurried about their stations, and the doors opened. He stepped inside.

"Hey!" A voice called out from behind him, "Hold the door!"

John kept the door from closing with one hand as four figures rushed inside. In techsuits and BDUs alone they could have been any Spartan at all, but he'd made a point to learn every face and name in the battalion. He knew these four, and let the door shut once they were all safely aboard.

Spartan Olympia Vale, Spartan Holly Tanaka, Spartan Edward Buck, and Spartan Jameson Locke. The four members of Fireteam Osiris were, like most of the other Fireteams, rarely seen apart. Nearly all of the teams had gravitated to their units, quickly becoming brothers or sisters in arms, and they had made their way up through training like that. Something about needing one another to get through the combat sims had brought them together, Cortana would have said, though they both knew it was part and parcel of being a Spartan.

Nothing good had ever come of a Spartan on their own. Not in the long run.

As the elevator car began its journey, John scanned the four Spartans in front of him. They'd all scrubbed themselves clean of paint, though a shower could do nothing for the yellow-green bruise taking up half of Spartan Buck's jawline. He still grinned.

"Chief!" The man exclaimed, "Just the man I wanted to see. We saw that Grifball game with Detroit the other night?" Shaking his head, he whistled low, "Talk about getting their asses handed to them. Don't suppose you're up for another go?"

"Only if you want to get your ass handed to you," Spartan Tanaka said before John could reply, "He kicked all four of Detroit up and down the centerline by himself." She threw John an impressed look, "Speaking of, where did you learn how to play like that?"

"Classified," John replied flatly. Cortana would have understood it for the joke that it was meant to be, while Fireteam Osiris all eyed him with varying levels of uncertainty. He held back a quiet sigh and added, "Another time. Once your bruises have healed."

"Low blow," Buck muttered, rubbing at his jaw. It would be healed in a day or less. And maybe the Commander was right: maybe it would teach him to keep his head down. The GEN-2 armor was a wonder of engineering, but it didn't make them invulnerable. Buck needed to learn to stick to cover before he started chattering. He shook his head and kept going, "We could make it a team match, though. You and me against Vale and Tanaka, since, you know, you're down a full team."

Whatever hint of amusement had been building in John's chest faded like dust in the wind. It had been six months since Lord Hood had told him, regretfully, that Blue Team was considered MIA. In those six months, no one had been able to learn anything. Cortana kept a process constantly searching for them, but even she hadn't been able to find anything. His gaze slid to Spartan Locke as the other Spartan watched him with narrowed eyes, but years of experience kept his face blank.

"Another time," He repeated, gesturing to the door with his chin as the car slowed to a stop at R&D. "Your stop."

"Uh, yeah, yeah, next time, next for sure and—ah! Vale!"

"Come on, fanboy," Spartan Vale grabbed her teammate by the arm, dragging him from the car. "We're going to be late."

"You know, I can walk by myself—"

"Then walk."

"Chief," Spartan Tanaka nodded as she headed out of the car after her teammates. Spartan Locke lingered just outside the door, watching John as they closed. He pressed the button for the Bridge and left Osiris behind.

Once more alone in the car, he allowed himself to sigh quietly. The tacpad on his wrist buzzed; he looked down, huffing out a quiet laugh.

Maybe not entirely alone.

The blue question mark on his screen bounced up and down, Cortana's wordless inquiry her way of checking up on him without actually putting him on the spot by asking. It worked better this way; he was able to narrow it down to a single status rather than try and find the words. She'd have waited forever for him to find them, he knew, but the rest of the ship was hardly that patient. He tapped the screen, three colored dots appearing in place of the question mark. Green, amber, and red.

His finger hovered over the amber status light for a second, the only allowance he would allow himself to make, before he pressed the green one instead.

Everything was fine. He was fine.

He knew she'd never believe it if he said it aloud, and was grateful she didn't make him try.

"Attention all hands!" Roland's voice came over the address system, drawing his attention upwards. "Prep for slipspace jump."

That was confirmation enough for him that they were headed to Requiem. He took a deep breath as the elevator rolled to a gentle stop on the command deck, walking forward through the crowded halls. Officers ran this way and that, tablets in hand or fingers pressed to their ears as they ran through their most recent orders. John made his way forward in a steady, slow pace, careful not to run into anyone. The throng began to clear as he came to the door to the bridge, which slid open automatically for him. John snapped out a crisp salute.

"Sir," he greeted the Captain, "Permission to come aboard?"

"Granted," Captain Lasky replied with a rueful grin at Cortana, standing at parade rest across the holo-table from him. She shrugged, biting back a smile that made something warm curl around John's heart. "At ease, Chief. No need to be so formal here."

Maybe not. He lowered his hand and ducked beneath the bulkhead, pausing for a moment to allow an ensign to hurry past him. If the halls outside the bridge had been full, the bridge itself seemed like the center of the hive. Men and women hurried from station to station, going over the data on their screens and planning accordingly. Outside the massive viewing window, slipspace parted around them like a river.

John stepped up to the holo-table, hands coming to rest at the small of his back. Cortana cocked her head at him just so, arching an eyebrow. He flicked his eyes to her, then back to the Captain. Everything was fine. Nothing to see here.

She and the Captain exchanged a glance that made him wonder what they'd been speaking about before his arrival, but then the Captain shook his head as if chastising himself. A third source of light entered the room as a holographic model of Requiem appeared to hang suspended above it, Covenant ships in standard formation all around the hollow planet.

"Before we left Requiem six months ago," the Captain began, "We left sensor beacons and drones to map the planet. They've been sending data back ever since, and recently, that data's become of interest to FLEETCOM."

With a flick of his fingers, Captain Lasky brought up several files on screen. Data scrolled past; John made quick work of reading it before his brow furrowed.

"Forerunner signals." He glanced at Cortana, "New targets?"

"Old target," She said, "The signal matches the Librarian, and it's broadcasting in a UNSC distress pattern." She looked back to the files. "Near as I can figure? She's trying to get our attention."

"Or someone using her signal is," Captain Lasky said, "Hence FLEETCOM's interest. A chance to speak with even the recording of a peaceful Forerunner is something no one wants to turn down, except…" He shook his head faintly. "The source is behind enemy lines. Scan drones report a battalion of Knights and Crawlers in the surrounding areas."

"And where there's one battalion…" Cortana began,

"There's more." John finished. He shared a look with Cortana, who inclined her head. "We have coordinates?"

"We do." Cortana pulled up a topographical scan. None of it looked familiar, John realized. It wasn't the canyons that Gypsy Company had cleaned out the last time he'd had boots on Requiem, but some other network of tunnels, ridges, and caverns. "Scans show a whole network of underground tunnels and access ways." She added in a half amused aside, "Seems the Forerunners who built this one were some pretty busy bees."

"Roland calls them Type-A's on steroids," the Captain added dryly. He pushed at the map to zoom in. "It would take at least five fireteams to canvas a space this large, assuming the Prometheans are the only threat on station."

John knew better to make an assumption like that. He and Cortana wouldn't have been called up for an eyes-only mission if things were going to be that easy, and the implication was as obvious as Cortana's glow.

"Should we expect back up, sir?"

"Unfortunately, no." Captain Lasky sighed. "Navy wants Requiem retaken ASAP. It'll be all boots on the ground and we can't spare a single fireteam for recon. Once we get there, you'll be dropping in solo." He looked up at Cortana, then to John. "I'll be honest with you, Chief. I don't like this idea of sending you two down there alone. Not against these numbers."

John and Cortana shared another glance. Captain Lasky had become well known for his gentler touch with the soldiers under his command. He didn't hesitate to send them in to get the job done, it was just that he regretted every life spent in the process of completing the mission. He was a good Captain; younger than most, but learning quickly and learning well. He was also one of the best commanding officers John had ever served under. He shifted his weight subtly.

"We've handled worse, Captain," He said, pitching his tone low to try and reassure the Captain that there was no need to be concerned. It was an honest truth all the same. "Impossible odds are kind of our specialty."

Captain Lasky snorted in amusement. "Well aware. I still don't like it."

John was saved from any more awkward attempts at reassurance—and from Cortana having to save him again—by the door to the bridge opening. Commander Palmer strode in like she owned the place, which as the Infinity's XO she technically did. Blue paint was still speckled across her face, a sight that turned up the corners of Captain Lasky's smile.

"Commander Palmer."

"Captain Lasky," She greeted with a nod to John, "Chief, Cortana. I'm not interrupting bedtime stories, am I?"

"On the contrary," Captain Lasky leaned both hands on the holotable. The files slid away to return Requiem to the display. "I was just telling the Chief and Cortana that things are about to get interesting. Show starts at 0500."

Commander Palmer frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. "We've waited six months. Another forty-eight hours to run the teams through the wargames—"

"Are off the table." The Captain interrupted, "The Navy wants everyone ready. Now."

Commander Palmer's frown deepened. She and her Captain locked eyes for a long few seconds, and then she turned to face the Chief. Over the past six months, John had found himself slipping into the de-facto role of her 2IC, a little detail that had come in handy a few times while training the IV's. He hadn't exactly wanted it, leadership not something he sought, but he'd come to settle into the role well enough. It certainly kept him and Cortana busy most days.

"Chief," the Commander began, "You two have had hands on every one of the fireteams and have firsthand experience with Requiem. Are they ready for it?"

John didn't hesitate. "Ma'am," He said firmly, "Yes, ma'am."

"Uh-huh." Maybe not entirely convinced, Commander Palmer looked to Cortana.

"They wouldn't be here if they weren't ready, Commander," Cortana said without missing a step. Though they both shared in their misgivings about Majestic, throwing the one fireteam under the Pelican wouldn't help them. He made a mental note to add them to more combat rotations before they reached Requiem; with just over thirteen hours until then, there was still some good they could do. Cortana nodded almost as if she'd caught the thought. "They're good to drop."

If Commander Palmer had any misgivings after such a resounding display of certainty, she set them aside.

"Copy that," She said, "Then it means it's time for us to go and get all dressed up for the party. Wouldn't do to keep our guests waiting for us."

As she strode off the bridge, John exchanged another glance with Cortana. She shrugged up to her ears.

Some things, it seemed, really had changed.

Some things would never change.

"Sure you wouldn't rather take a seat?" Cortana asked, safely nestled in John's SNI. She ran a final suite of checks even as she waited for him to answer, reassuring herself that the suit and its wearer were in peak condition. The suit was fine, but John…his cortisol levels were off the charts. Something told her it wasn't just because of being stuck in a Pelican again. "Ride may get a bit bumpy."

"We'll be fine." John replied, holding onto one of the crash rails. Infinity's full contingent of Pelicans was ready to drop as soon as they cleared the slipspace corridor. Having no team of his own to ride with, he and Cortana were borrowing a slot on Fireteam Crimson's bird. All four of them were seated and strapped in, but Cortana knew John preferred not to be. He had always hated losing control. "How long until we drop?"

"Three minutes and counting," Cortana replied. She tabbed up a few files. "Want to go over the intel again?"

He gave the faintest nod. Having been ready for it, she set the files across his visor's imaging system. A top-down map of the area opened up, revealing the network of canyons, caves, and pits that was the sector of Requiem they would be dropping into. Though all of Requiem had been constructed, this was a more natural looking sector at first glance, the network tangling up into Requiem's inner workings. It was practically a fortress. Pulling anyone out would turn into a mess very quickly.

It'd be good to get back to form.

"Three days ago," Cortana began, "Scanning buoys on Requiem's outer edge picked up a signal, Forerunner in origin and broadcasting in known UNSC distress patterns. They traced it to this network of canyons and were able to match it to the Librarian."

"Does the signal say anything?"

"Unfortunately, no. It's more of an identification signal than anything, letting us know who's broadcasting but not why." She paused then added, "And that is assuming that it is the Librarian broadcasting to begin with and not a trap from some over-ambitious Knight."

"We'll deal with it either way. Intel on the location?"

"Sparse." Cortana increased zoom on the map. It was even more of a maze up close. "The scanner drones couldn't get much before they were spotted. As of last scan, there were Knights camped out all along this ridge," She lit up a sector in crimson red, then another further away in cautious yellow. "And a whole pack of crawlers down in this basin. Last count puts it at roughly three hundred Prometheans, and I'm willing to bet they'll be all over us the second they realize we're there."

"So," the Chief nodded, "A Thursday."

Cortana snorted out a laugh and banished the files. "Better than a Friday," She retorted, "We'll have to be careful in some of the switchbacks, but otherwise it's your usual clear the area sort of mission. Nothing we can't handle."

So why could she not shake the worry in her gut? Was the lack of backup really bothering her so badly? She set a process to analyze the thought but there was no time to wait for it. Roland's voice came over the address system.

"All hands, prepare for slipspace exit in three, two,"

One. Impact shook Infinity from bow to stern. Fireteam Crimson rocked in their seats. John barely moved.

"Come out of slipspace and crash right through a super carrier," Cortana muttered. "Show-offs."

"You'd have done the same thing."

"That's hardly the point," She rolled her eyes at him before banishing all traces of amusement. It was time to get down to business, and she slipped into the role of his combat partner as easily as he put on his armor. Opening her link to Infinity's systems she monitored the chatter. "Frigates away. Pelicans launching in five, four, three, two—"

One.

"All fireteams, launch!"

"Hang on to your helmets!" The pilot called back, and with a low rumble the Pelican lifted off.

Using the crash rails as a guide, John made his way past Fireteam Crimson and to the cockpit doors, watching out the window as their bird and dozens more soared out of the hanger, diving through the lines of plasma fire that hung between them and Requiem's entryway. The frigates that the Infinity carried were lighting up the blackness of space with MAC rounds and missiles, tearing through the Banshees and Phantoms that dove back and forth, scouring anything they could hit with plasma fire. Debris littered the corridor; one bird nearly hit theirs as it was forced to quickly maneuver away from an exploding Banshee. Their pilot compensated with a curse. Opening up the local comm-channel, John let it all wash over him.

Six months of tentative peace were finally coming to a close. Cortana wasn't sure how she felt about that, her analysis coming up empty, but here they were. One way or another, it was time to get back to work.

"Requiem corridor is clear! Repeat, Requiem corridor is clear!"

"Hang on!" Their pilot called, "We're going in!"

Under her skilled hands, the Pelican dove for the light that was Requiem's door. John tightened his grip on the crash rails as their bird fell into formation with a dozen others.

"Sure hope getting out of here's easier than last time," Just ahead of them, the light of the entrance was growing too bright to look at. John ducked his head.

"We'll be fine."

"I hope so," Cortana whispered. "I hope so."

Compared to the utter mess that was the space outside of Requiem, the false skies inside the hollow planet were peaceful. En-route to Fireteam Crimson's destination, Pelican 329 soared over winding stone canyons, the artificial sun baking the stone below. The Chief watched the network of tunnels and formations slip past the open hatch, noting a few chokepoints visible from even this high up.

He also saw, much to Cortana's audible annoyance, more Knights patrolling the ridgeline than the drones had caught.

"We'll be fine."

"Not what I'm worried about," She shot back. Motion caught his eye before he could reply.

"Sure you don't want some back-up, sir?" Crimson Leader asked; he turned his head. Crimson Lead met his faceplate with her own, tilting her head towards the drop. "There's a lot of targets down there."

There were. But he'd faced down stronger numbers on his own before, and this would be no different. Besides, while an extra gun or four would have come in handy, he had all the back-up he needed.

"We'll be fine," he said, inclining his head in her direction. "Focus on your team, Spartan."

Crimson Leader nodded firmly.

"Sir," She replied, "Yes sir. Good hunting."

"We're over the coordinates now, Master Chief!" The pilot called out over the radio, "Now's your chance!"

"Copy that, 329," Cortana answered for him, "See you when it's over."

Wasting no more time, the Chief leapt from the Pelican and tucked himself straight into freefall. A waypoint popped up on his HUD, guiding him through the minute adjustments he'd need to make with his thrusters in order to land safely. He watched the altimeter in his HUD rapidly count down, rapidly ticking down the distance. Eight hundred meters. Four hundred. Two hundred. One hundred.

At fifty meters from the ground, he rotated his body to get his feet beneath him and fired his thrusters. Speed bled away like water through a hose, leaving him to safely touch down on a stone archway that linked two canyon walls half a kilometer from the cavern entrance.

"For once, you did not land on your face," Cortana whistled. "I'm impressed."

John rolled his eyes. Reaching back for his rifle, the Chief did a quick sweep of the area. Crimson's Pelican hadn't been the quietest bird around, and no one watching the skies would have missed him dropping like a missile. It was time to get moving. A waypoint appeared on his HUD before he could ask her for one; it seemed like they had both been itching to get back into the field.

Setting off down the canyon, the two of them walked in companionable silence. He could feel her in the back of his mind, keeping watch over him and his systems, and he accepted that for the comfort it was. It felt good to be getting back to work with her, like stretching a muscle that had gone unused for too long. He knew she felt the same way.

"Hostiles, dead ahead," She said as they approached a turn. "I'm reading four Knight-Watcher pairs."

His motion tracker lit up in red, eight dots headed his way at speed. They'd definitely noticed his less than subtle arrival. Good; he could use a workout. Putting his back to the sun-baked stone, the Chief carefully peered around the corner.

Promethean forces had no standard formation, but the four Knights walking his way were in a staggered line all the same. Too spread out to hit at the same time, the Watchers buzzing over their heads would keep any grenades off them. He'd have to get in closer, finish things off personally. In short?

Nothing they couldn't handle. Red outlines surrounded all eight targets as he tensed his muscles, preparing to leap. One of the Knights stopped walking, tilting its angular head. For half a second, everything stopped.

The Chief pounced on the opening. Darting out of cover he opened fire on the Watchers first, bullets slamming into their wing-structure. With the element of surprise on his side he was able to hit the first one dead on, sending it crashing to the ground, before the Knights even realized that he was there. They whirled around, screaming at him in their oddly disconcerting way, and then they were moving. The Watchers buzzed away but not so far as to be removed from their assigned Knights. The Knight who was now running solo charged at him, energy blade buzzing angrily in its clawed hand. The Chief sidestepped the charge, pivoting on one heel to slam the other foot into the construct's back. It went down with a rattle, down but not out, but he removed it from the field with a hard stomp.

Leaving the data burst behind the Chief rolled out of the way of the attacking Knights, focusing fire on the Watchers above them. His rifle barked, three round bursts making quick work of the Promethean constructs. They fell in pieces to the canyon floor, harmless debris and fading light. The Knights were still firing on him.

"Watch out!" Cortana exclaimed, "New weapon on the field!"

One shot slammed into his chest. The impact would have turned unarmored flesh into ground meat; it still sent even his bulky frame reeling. His shields screamed as they plummeted down to half strength and he ducked back into cover as another shot of bright orange light flared past him; Cortana had tagged it as high intensity pulse weaponry. An EMP of some kind, and one that could get past the hardening of his shields. Just one more new element to deal with.

Counting the shots the Chief waited for three seconds before a lull came in the firing. As soon as it did, he twisted on one ankle and opened fire, a half magazine of rounds slamming into the reloading Knight. It went down without even time to scream, but the two remaining Knights were still shooting. Motion carrying him across the canyon entrance, the Chief ducked back into cover to let his shields recharge. He reloaded his rifle as he waited; two Knights left, but they were closing fast. More light-shot blazed past him, close enough that his charging shields flickered. Cortana silenced the warning as he twisted out of cover once more; palming a grenade from his thigh mag-lock, he let it fly.

Without the Watchers to grab the projectile away from them, the Knights were forced to retreat from the explosion that followed. It was a tactic they were fond of, and one that left them open as their light trails showed exactly where they were going. Though they split up across the canyon, the Chief was ready. One went down just as it began to reappear, a well-placed burst getting between the plates that made up its face, and the other soon followed. Silence fell upon the canyon.

"Eight data purges confirmed. All targets eliminated." Cortana said, "And all without losing your shields. Looks like six months of downtime didn't kill your edge after all."

John snorted quietly. With half an eye on his motion tracker he scanned the canyon again, just to be sure. When he spotted no targets, he made his way forward. The new and improved weapon was laying on the ground where he had felled the Knight holding it; slinging his rifle onto his mag-lock, the Chief picked up the new gun and considered it. It was built like a scattershot and looked like a scattershot, so what was different? The readings popped up on his HUD.

"Huh," Cortana hummed pensively, "It's a scattershot, but the ammo it fires operates on a different frequency than the ones we've seen before. That's how it drained your shields so fast."

"The Prometheans are learning how to handle us."

"And a lot faster than I'd like them to, that's for sure." Cortana sighed, "I'll packet this up for the techs back ship-side. We're going to need to harden shields accordingly." His shields whined, drained, and began to cycle as she performed the necessary changes. Slotting the scattershot onto one of his rear mag-locks, he grabbed the fallen pulse grenades while he waited for his shields to recharge. "There. Not that I'd stand in front of them and let them empty the chamber on you, but it should hold up better now."

"You've gotten good at that," John pointed out.

"I had a lot of time to practice." She replied, and his gut twisted. Nearly five years of drifting in the dark. They'd never talked about it. He wasn't sure how to bring it up, or if he even should. She seemed fine… "Not so much recently, though. You Spartans know how to keep me busy in downtime."

"It's not downtime," John replied, setting his feelings aside for the moment. "Training the IVs is a battle."

"Training Majestic is a battle," Cortana countered, "You like Crimson."

That was true. Not that he'd ever admit it, but the four of them did remind him of Blue Team in their younger years. Just thinking about that, about them, made his gut twist harder. He still didn't know where his team was and it was long past irking him. Shaking off the thought, he started walking again.

"Crimson gets their missions done," He said, not needing to stop as they encountered another Knight. While he wasn't as used to fighting Prometheans as he was fighting Covenant, there was nothing overly special about them. Dodge the fire, return fire, stay out of close combat range unless absolutely necessary. He barely even needed to think about it anymore. "Majestic would be fine if they could work as a team instead of lone operators."

"True, but consider their role models." Cortana retorted, her voice casual as if she weren't riding shotgun in his head while he mowed down ancient constructs. She was used to this, too. "You and Commander Palmer both run solo more often than not. I'm not surprised it's rubbed off on them."

"I don't work solo," John said, "I have you."

A second of silence and then a soft, "Yes. Yes you do."

The pair of them fell into another companionable quiet as the Chief made his way through the canyon, mowing down Prometheans as he went. His mission timer read fifteen minutes and counting when he finally reached the waypoint, a cavern entrance carved into the wall of the canyon. He paused at the mouth, considering the darkness below.

"Do we have any information on terrain?" He asked, "Scan data?"

"Not much," Cortana's frown was audible, "There's some data from one of the geological survey drones, but all the teams are sure of is that it connects to a network of tunnels and caverns that spread through all of Requiem's first and second layers." Her face appeared in his HUD, brow furrowed. "It's a maze down there. Best I can tell you is that it seems pretty empty."

Empty, twisting, and connected to Requiem's Forerunner tunnels. The perfect place for an ambush. And what had happened to the Crawlers?

"Is there another way to reach the signal?"

"Not unless you feel like climbing across four kilometers of canyon and then digging a really big hole. It's tunnels or bust, Chief."

Perfect. The Chief considered the options all the same, turning his head to scan the rest of the canyon. A sheer rock wall blocked him from continuing forward in that direction; he could climb it, but he'd be completely exposed in the process. Not something he really wanted to do without a second set of hands on station. He turned back, considering the tunnel entrance. As far as choices went, there really only was one. He would have to duck to fit into the cavern, the five foot entrance shorter than he was. Wind had scraped and sanded down the edges, leaving them rippling and uneven. Another gust of wind blew across the entrance, sending a howling noise into the air. Cortana made a disgusted sound.

"Well, that's not ominous at all."

"It's just the wind."

"Uh-huh." She arched an unimpressed eyebrow. "And Requiem is just a planet."

"Don't tell me you're scared." John teased gently, taking mild amusement in how she reared back, utterly insulted. "You glow in the dark."

Cortana was saved from having to come up with a witty retort by the chirp of the radio. The Chief tele-hailed the connection open.

"Master Chief? Palmer. How's it going down there, Spartan?"

"We've reached the cavern entrance and are proceeding into the tunnel system as planned."

"Copy that. Be advised, we're picking up scattered Covvie chatter. You could have two forces on your ass soon."

"Understood, Commander," Cortana replied, "We'll radio you when we have target lock. Cortana out."

The radio went silent without so much as a by your leave. Cortana rolled her eyes.

"At least they know we like our privacy. Ready?"

The Chief answered that by ducking beneath the low entrance to the cave. His eyes adjusted quickly; it was the same brown and beige stone from outside, just colder now that it was out of the sun. Water dripped somewhere ahead, and he tele-hailed on his flashlight. The sharp beams pierced the darkness, revealing a natural path that sloped downwards, and no signs of Promethean activity. Odd. He kept his rifle at the ready as he stepped into the dark.

"And, for the record?" Cortana said as they left the sunlight behind, "I'm not scared of the dark."

John let himself smile.

"Of course you're not."

With a pointed grumble she fell silent, her face vanishing from his HUD. The Chief continued to make his way forward, one eye on his path and the other on his motion tracker. The only sounds were those of his boots and water dripping down stone. It was quiet. Too quiet. He didn't like this. The Prometheans had been entrenched all along the ridge and the canyons, so where they now? He slowed to a stop at a junction in the cave system, helmet-lights shifting from dark hole to dark hole.

"How far does this go?"

"Kilometers in just about every direction," A soft scan flared out in front of him, his motion tracker wobbling for a moment. "Far as I can tell, this cave system is practically a hive. We could be wandering down here for days and still never get where we need to go."

Perfect. Consulting the objective marker on his HUD, the Chief went over his options. Either go down the most obvious route, the one that lead in the same general direction as his marker, or take a different path and hope it spat him out somewhere he could make a way forward. His lips pressed into a thin line.

"Hang on. Let me see if I can—" Cortana stopped mid-sentence.

"Cortana?"

"What—oh, sorry," The ice water feeling along his spine shifted, gathering itself together as she audibly shook herself off. "Thought I heard something. Let me just put this data together…there."

Another image popped up on his HUD, a white and blue wireframe overlay of the cave system. Three of the junction entrances flared red, one of them green. It was in line with the marker on his HUD, but that wasn't his concern at that moment in time.

"What did you hear?" She didn't answer him. "Cortana?"

"Static. Just static. You didn't hear it?"

John's heart stuttered a beat. "No."

"Oh. Well." She cleared her throat, "Well, what's odd about it is it's not UNSC or Covenant in origin. It's Forerunner."

"The Librarian?"

"Could be." She didn't sound very sure. If anything, she sounded worried. He could just picture the lines between her brows, her arms crossed as she considered the data before her, the downturned corners of her mouth. "Impossible to say for sure without more data."

"Can you track it?"

"Triangulating." A moment, then: "Same location as our target broadcast. Two guesses why that is."

"It's coming from the same source," the Chief said with a low growl. Voices in his head was one thing, hallucinations only he could see were another. He had heard the Didact during their first campaign on Requiem, a sensation of broken glass and churning gravel he would never truly forget. He could handle that. But for some Forerunner technology to be going after her? He wasn't going to let that stand. Setting a hurried but steady pace, the Chief headed down the tunnels. "Why couldn't I hear it?"

"I'm not sure. The armor should be picking up the same signals as my chip, so I don't understand it. How could the drones pick it up but not your…suit…" She trailed off, her voice growing distant as if something had caught her attention. His blood ran cold. "What is that?"

"Cortana."

He felt her jolt, a flash of ice down his spine, and her face appeared in his HUD. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Sorry. It's getting louder. We must be on the right track—keep this heading. I'll see what I can dig out of it."

She vanished from his HUD. Blood still chilled in his veins, the Chief kept walking. When he found the source of that signal, he was going to make it leave Cortana alone. She'd been through enough already. She didn't need voices inside her head, too.

The companionable silence shattered, the Chief continued to make his way forward through the tunnels. They continued to slope downward, water pooling in dips and crevices as it trickled down the walls in thicker and thicker rivulets the further he'd walked. By the time his global positioning data had him halfway to his target, he'd walked nearly a kilometer straight down. Much further and he was sure he'd hit the unnatural section of the tunnels, but it seemed that was where the signal was coming from.

Why build something so far underground? What had the Forerunners been trying to protect here? The questions ran circles around his brain as he took notice of the caverns beginning to open up, low ceilinged tunnels giving way to a wide chamber, a deep chasm splitting the open space in two. The Chief slowed his pace, scanning the area. It was too wide, and too dark, for his flashlight to fully pierce the black. If something came at him, he wouldn't see it until it was nearly on top of him. He consulted his waypoint and almost grimaced. It was across the chasm. Of course it was.

"I don't like this."

"That makes two of us…"

Carefully, the Chief made his way forward to the edge of the chasm. It was too dark to see all the way to the bottom, the beams of his helmet lights not strong enough to get that far. A look from side to side revealed that the chamber was massive; his footfalls echoed with each step he took. He had to cross the chasm somehow, but how? It stretched too far to simply leap across, and a look up told him the ceiling was too low for him to use his thrusters. He'd have to walk across, but how? He flagged his motion tracker. Where was the mapping adjustment Cortana had made? Ah. There.

Another scan-ping lit up the area directly in front of him, soft blue light rushing out across the stone. It mapped the edge of the chasm nearest to him, then ran over a stone bridge that reached across to the other side. There was his way across. He made his way forward.

"Chief, be careful," Cortana said as he stepped onto the bridge. It cracked ominously beneath his weight. "This thing looks very old. I'm not sure it can handle any sudden movements."

"It'll be fine," He said, though he was mindful of just where he put his boots down after a piece of the bridge crumbled away. "Don't look down."

"Funny. I was about to tell you the same thing."

Taking slow, measured steps, the Chief began to cross the bridge. Having to focus on where he put his feet down, he had to keep his head tilted towards the stone. Abyssal darkness stared back at him from either side of the bridge, his motion tracker utterly still. For a location so far into Promethean territory, it was oddly quiet. He didn't like it one bit.

A tremendous crack knocked him from his thoughts; he froze, barely daring to breathe. Had that been the bridge? Another crack was the only answer he got, the ground shifting beneath his feet. He looked down.

"Uh, Chief…"

Beneath his flashlight, cracks were forming on ancient stone. They raced across the bridge almost too fast to track, followed by blue light as Cortana lit them up. Branching pathways formed islands of stone, separate pieces hanging suspended for a few seconds as a steady middle finger to gravity.

In the end, gravity would have the last laugh. The Chief's stomach lurched up towards his throat as the stone beneath his boots began to fall away into the abyss below.

"Chief!"

There was no time to talk it over. Acting on pure instinct the Chief fired his thruster pack, pushing himself onto another chunk of stone, then another as that one fell away, too! One foot in front of the other, trusting in Cortana's glowing blue outlines for the next best step to take. The bridge was shattering behind him, cutting him off from escape that way; the only way was forward, one leap at a time until he got his boots firmly on solid ground, turning to watch the last piece of the ancient bridge fall down into the darkness. Cortana sighed shakily.

"So much for going back that way."

"We'll find another route," He reassured her, rolling his shoulders to shake off the adrenaline. He'd have survived the fall, had survived from higher, but there was something about falling into the endless darkness that set his nerves on edge. Stone shattered so very far below them, the pieces having hit bottom relatively quickly. He shook his head and turned, scanning this side of the chasm. Stone, stone, and more stone. A single tunnel entrance broke the monotony, and the Chief started walking again, following the waypoint further into the darkness.

It wasn't long before he had to stop again, headlamps pointed down a long, dark drop. Perfectly circular in nature there was no way it could be natural. That wasn't saying much on Requiem, but the thought still nagged at him. These caves had appeared natural enough, but this…this wasn't. He frowned at it.

"What was this?"

"Judging by the shape and depth, I'd say it used to be some kind of gravity well. I'm not picking up any power, though," Cortana hummed quietly, "It's still our only way to get closer to the source of that signal. Good thing you're not afraid of heights."

No. Just what might be waiting at the bottom. But it wasn't like he had any other options. They couldn't go back the way they'd come, and if it was the only path... The Chief locked his rifle to his rear mag-lock, rolling his shoulders.

"Hang on tight."

With a single firm push from the stone, he leapt into the darkness below.

[niht-digital-123]

Top 5 Trending Skills for Students to Learn in 2023

Every profession requires some combination of social and technical talents and opportunities. Do you already have an excellent skill set acquired from school or previous work experience? But what if you could gain skills that would increase your value to employers and enable you to command a greater salary?

So, what are some high-paying skills that students can learn in 2023? Here are a few of the most in-demand skills:

Graphic Design

Video Editing and Production

ORM (Online Reputation Management) and PR (Public Relations)

Virtual Reality and Augmented Reality

Insights and Analytics from Data

5 Skills Students Should Learn in 2023

Graphic Designing

Graphic design skills are now required for efficient marketing in today's visually-driven digital landscape. Visual content is critical for catching attention and communicating a brand's message. Students should learn graphic design so that they can build aesthetically appealing assets such as logos, banners, infographics, and social media posts that will engage users and improve brand communication.

Graphic design is a difficult but rewarding industry. If you want to pursue a profession in graphic design, there are numerous tools available to help you gain the necessary skills. Online classes, workshops, and even a degree in graphic design are all options.

Video Production and Editing

The advent of video marketing necessitates knowledge of video creation and editing. Students with these abilities can create engaging material for social media sites, YouTube, and other video-sharing platforms. Students who are proficient in video editing may create fascinating tales that boost a brand's online presence and interact with people on a deeper level.

There are numerous online courses available that can teach you the fundamentals of video creation and editing. Once you've mastered the fundamentals, you can progress to more complex topics.

Online Reputation Management and Public Relations

Managing a brand's reputation has become vital in the age of social media. ORM (Online Reputation Management) is the process of monitoring and changing online perceptions in order to maintain a positive brand image. Furthermore, Public Relations (PR) is concerned with developing relationships with media outlets and influencers in order to boost brand visibility. Understanding ORM and PR enables students to create plans for managing a brand's reputation and leveraging influencer alliances for maximum exposure.

There are numerous online courses on ORM and PR available. Among the most popular courses are:

Udemy's Online Reputation Management: The Complete Course

Coursera's Public Relations: The Complete Course

LinkedIn Learning's PR Masterclass: How to Build Your Public Relations Brand

Augmented Reality and Virtual Reality 

By providing immersive experiences, augmented reality (AR) and virtual reality (VR) have changed the digital marketing scene. Students who learn AR/VR may create new marketing strategies that blend the physical and digital worlds, resulting in increased user engagement and brand loyalty. Mastery of these technologies opens up new avenues for captivating consumers and differentiating businesses in the market.

If you're just getting started, I recommend enrolling in an online course or lesson. This will provide you with a fundamental foundation of the technology as well as the many tools and frameworks that are accessible.

Data Analytics and Insights

The core of digital marketing is data. Data analytics students can gain significant insights from user behavior, campaign performance, and market trends. Students will be able to make data-driven decisions, optimize marketing tactics, and correctly measure campaign effectiveness with these abilities. Data analytics skills are in high demand in the digital marketing industry, allowing students to deliver significant benefits to companies.

Many online courses on data analytics and insights for digital marketing are accessible. Among the most popular courses are:

Google Analytics Academy's Digital Marketing Analytics

HubSpot Academy's Data-Driven Digital Marketing

NIHT Web Analytics

As a student, developing these talents can open up a world of possibilities.

Firstly, it provides students with a highly sought-after skill set, increasing their employability and job opportunities. The marketing industry is always changing, and there is always a demand for professional marketers who can stay on top of the latest trends. Students can make themselves more marketable to companies and boost their chances of finding a decent job by improving their marketing abilities.

Secondly, it allows you to work remotely and pursue business opportunities. Marketing professionals can now work from anywhere in the world, thanks to the advent of remote work. This allows students to pursue their own interests and aspirations while also potentially leading to higher wages. Marketing talents can also be used to create your own firm. You can utilize your marketing talents to reach your target audience and expand your business if you have a brilliant idea for a product or service.

Finally, using this knowledge, students may assist businesses in growing by efficiently reaching and engaging their target audience. Marketers may design campaigns that generate leads and sales by knowing the demands of their target demographic. This can assist firms in increasing their consumer base and earnings.

Enroll Now for a bright career

[andydrysdalerogers]

Cross-Checked ~ Chapter 14

Andy Barber x OFC Leighton "Leia" Andrews

Summary:

Andy Barber is having the best year of his life. His game is on point. It’s gets to play with his best friend and his fiancé just... dumped him?!. 

Reeling from a sudden change in status, Andy decides it’s time to just focus on hockey. Until his best friend's sister comes out with news that rock the entire organizations world., 

Andy has always carried a torch for the untouchable Leighton but in her hour of need, is now the time to shoot and score or risk getting cross - checked again? 

Warnings: Cheating (but not by the MCs); slow burn; friends to lovers eventually; SMUT!; pregnancy; jealousy; handsome goalies, evil exes...

A/N: The tag list is open!

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Banners by me!

Previous: Chapter 13: Fit For A Princess

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 14: Mother Knows Best

Andy 

Week 26 

I’ve always appreciated Luke and Leia’s parents.  Their father would be at every game until he passed.  Their mother, Monica, would drive us to the early morning practices and take Leia to figure skating lessons.  They took me in when my dad bailed, and my mom had to work nights to support us.   

Monica was my support when Mom died and I was a scared 20-year-old, on my own for the first time. I had every respect for her.  

Until I was 25 at least.  

That’s when she checked out of all of our lives, Leia especially.  

Monica had it in her mind that she needed to remarry rich to support her children.  Her children that are amazing all on their own. She had a superstar son, who could have taken care of her and a daughter that started her own business.  But to Monica, Leia’s smarts were not enough for a woman in a man’s world. She believed Leia needed to give up her dreams and marry someone who will take care of her.  

This broke Leia for a long time.  

Luke and I did our best to hold Leia up while she dealt with the ramifications of her mother’s words. It unfortunately led to Bret and well here we are. We had gotten her past it.  I thought I had made her happy.  We were going to be a real family now.  

I did not have Monica Andrews on my bingo card.  

“Mom? What are you doing here?” Leia was standing at the door, gripping it like her life depended on it.  I moved quickly to be behind her.  

“Hi Mrs. Andrews.”  

“It's DeLaurentis, now, Andrew. Leighton, my goodness, you have really popped.”  

I flinch at the backhanded compliment. “Umm, come on in, Mrs. DeLaurentis.” I pulled Leia with me to allow her mother in. I looked at Leia and she shrugged with a confused look that must have matched mine.  I moved when she made it to the living room. “Mrs. DeLaurentis, these are my teammates, Linus Ullmark, Brad Marchant and David Pasternak and you remember Stella and Miranda. Guys, this is Luke and Leia’s mother, Monica DeLaurentis.”  

Everyone greets her and she says her hellos.  She turns back to Leia. “May I speak to you alone, Leighton?” I don’t like the way she says my girl’s name.  Like its a swear word. It grinds my nerves.  

As they walked into my office, I had a bad feeling in my stomach.  I turned to Miranda. “Get Luke back on the phone.”  

Leia 

I was still in shock that my mother was back in town, and she was married. I don’t remember being invited to that. “I’m surprised to see you, Mother.”  

“Well, I’ve been busy.”  

I looked at her left hand and the giant diamond on her finger.  “I can see that.  Congratulations.”  I stopped. “You married Summer’s father?” 

My mother looks put out by my question. “Its not like he’s still married.”  

“Mother, his wife died less than a year ago.” I was incredibly annoyed with her. Monica Andrews, sorry, DeLaurentis, had not been a shallow woman before my father died. She had been the typical stay at home mom that you see on old 50’s TV shows, apron and all. She had been my best friend, like any little girl would have. It was great. Until my dad died. She lasted five years. By the time I was 20, she was gone.  

“Don’t talk to me like that Leighton,” my mother huffed. “How come your brother isn’t here?” 

“He was named the Bruins all-star so he’s in Toronto right now.” 

“Well, I would like to meet with both of you at the same time.” She looked at me up and down again. “We have some things to talk about.”  

Andy walked in right them. “Mrs. DeLaurentis, it’s Luke.” He handed her the phone.  

“Lukas, when do you come back?... Well, I don’t want to have this conversation twice... The day you get back would be best...” She handed the phone back to Andy.  “I’ll meet you on Monday at the Cafe,” she said to me.  “Apparently, we have a lot to discuss.”  

I wasn’t sure if that was going to be a good thing or a bad. “Like what?” 

“I’d rather not say since you have company or rather Andrew has company.”  She gave a distasteful look to us. “I’ll see myself out.” She turned without a goodbye.  

My knees were shaking and I grabbed onto the island.  Andy saw me and immediately put his arms around me. “Hey, baby, take a breath.”  

“She didn’t even ask about the baby or anything,” I whispered. “I don’t want to go alone.”  

Andy snorted. “Like there was a chance that I would let you. The three of us will go, just like always, ok?”  He cupped my face.  “I won’t let anything happen.”  

If only I could believe him.  

Monday comes and I don’t want to get out of bed.  I was in and out of sleep but Andy cuddled up next to me, running his hand through my hair and I was asleep. Cheeky brat knows how to calm me.  I groan when the alarm goes off.  

“Sorry, my queen.  I have a team meeting.”  He kissed my head, but I grabbed onto his arm.  

“No, you are warm and you’re comfy.  Mine.” I snuggle deeper into his chest and Andy lets out a low laugh.  

“I am yours, my queen, but I still have to get up. You wanted me to wake you so you could get ready for lunch with your mom.” He kissed my nose.  “Something about wanting to have that pregnancy glow so she couldn’t be a bitch about it.”  

I vaguely remember saying that to him, but he is right.  After the awful look she gave me about my bump, I don’t want to go in there looking anything less than perfect.  

The relationship between my mother and myself is complicated at best. When my dad died, my mom tried to be strong for us. But it was like half of her soul left with him.  My dad was smart, there was savings and a life insurance policy. But my mother got it in her head that she needed to find a way to provide for us. But she didn’t want to get a job. She had been a housewife and that’s all she assumed she knew.  

And that’s all she wanted for me.  

As I pull on the pale pink sweater dress and leggings, my mind drift to the day after Bret and I split.  

“Why are you breaking up? He will be a wonderful partner and provider for you Leighton.” My mom sips her tea at the hotel we met at. Yeah, you heard me, hotel. Because my mother left the house my father had built for her. Lucky that Luke bought it from her otherwise our childhood home would be long gone.  

“That is not what I want from my life Mother. I want a partner to grow with me, help me, not treat me like I’m a servant. Daddy didn’t raise me like that.”  

“You have no idea what your father wanted,” she retorted. “Bret is handsome, wealthy...” 

“Controlling, egotistical, narcissistic,” I finished for her. “He’s in Tokyo and he belittled me and dreams.”  

“I think you are making a mistake Leighton.”  

Andy pulls up to the hotel where they are serving afternoon tea.  I’m grateful as I am not allowed more than one cup of coffee a day, which is a tragedy onto itself. I see Luke sitting in the lobby. “Why didn’t you go inside?” 

“And be alone with the Mother? Do you hate me, Cubby?” He gives me a soft hug.  “Missed you.” 

“You were gone for four days,” Andy says as they man-hug. “Let’s not make her wait or suffer her wrath.”  

Andy guides me with his hand on the small of my back, Luke leading the way.  My mom is sitting at a table with Kyle DeLaurentis. Fuck my life. The new stepfather.  I try not to have a sour face because I don’t need to hear it from her.  “Hi Mother.”  

“Leighton, Lucas and Andrew, this is a surprise.” She gave us air kisses before she turned to Kyle. “This is Kyle, my husband.”  

Andy moves first. “Mr. DeLaurentis, it's nice to see you again. Andrew Barber.”  

“I’ve been watching Andrew. Bruins are looking good.  Lukas,” he offers his hand to Luke to shake. “Congratulations on the All Star nomination.”  

“Thanks,” Luke says tightly.  

“This is my daughter, Leighton,” my mom says.  

“Leighton, you look beautiful,” taking my offered hand and kissing my knuckles. I try not to shudder at the ick factor that I am getting from Kyle. I went to school with his daughter, Summer, and spent time with their family and I hadn’t felt this before but now I do. Andy, thankfully, pulls a chair for me between him and Luke and we sit as the waiter starts to take orders.  

“Andrew, can I ask why you decided to join us today?” my mother asked.  

He shrugs. “Leia asked me to come.”  

The waiter drops the drinks and an uncomfortable silence. My mother clears her throat and took a sip of her tea before she said, “you are living with Andrew now.” Not a question.  

I looked at her.  “Yes, I am.”  

She scoffed. “An unmarried, pregnant woman living with a man that is not the father.”  

I can feel Andy tense next to me. “Yes, she is. Except Leia and I are now together.”  

My mother gives us a sharp look. “And what about Bret?” 

“What about him? He left me, I told him I am pregnant. I never got a response. I’ve moved on with someone who loves and cares for me and my daughter.” Andy takes my hand and gently squeezes to try and calm me.  

“Love, please relax,” he whispers. I try to take a deep breath, but she doesn’t let up. 

“You should be with the father, Leighton.  A baby cannot be raised in a broken home.”  

“It’s not broken! She has a father! Andy is the father!” I stand up and move to the bathroom, trying not to cry. How can she say that? Our family is not broken. Me and Andy and Luke and Miranda are our own family. We make it perfect. The tears flow as I hit the door. I make it and take a few minutes to myself, letting the tears fall. Once I can gather myself, I clean up my face and head out. And ran right into my mother.  

“That display was embarrassing, Leighton,” she says sternly.  

“Embarrassing for whom? You?” I swallow the yell that wants to come out. “I am not some helpless woman who needs a man to take care of her. I have my business, I have my work with the team, I have Luke and I have Andy. Andy, who knows everything and still loves me. He loves my daughter, even if she isn’t biologically his. You have changed so much since Daddy died that I don’t even recognize you. You’re like a super Stepford wife and you only care about money and status.” 

“You have no idea what it's like for your partner to die and leave you with two children to raise!” 

“Raise? I was 14 when dad died. You didn’t raise me. You left us! I refuse to do that to my daughter.”  

“You ungrateful little brat!” I saw my mother raise her hand and I went to block her when another hand stopped her.  

“What the fuck do you think you are doing Mother? “Luke was raging at his mother. “Leia has gestational hypertension, and you are doing this? You need to leave!” 

“Lucas, how can you treat your mother this way?” 

“Easy. When someone is being a complete bitch to their daughter, I can easily make the right choice. Until you can apologize to Leia, stay away from her, don’t call.”  

“Lucas,” she cries.  

“I get it. You lost it when dad dies but that is no excuse.” 

Andy had been holding me and he turned me to walk out of the hotel as the tears fell. I knew my mother had changed but it was shocking to see it.  My mother had never tried to strike me before.  

But she would no longer be a part of my life.  

Suddenly, a sharp pain flashed through my body and I stopped and cried out. “Leia?” Andy holds me to him. “Baby, what’s wrong?” 

“I don’t know,” I cried. Andy lifted me up as Luke ran for the car. “Andy?” 

“Its gonna be ok, baby. We’re gonna get you to the hospital.” He kisses my head as Luke pulls up. Andy puts me in the car, climbs in after me and Luke races away.  

Please let my baby be ok.  

NEXT

Taglist:

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@slutforchrisjamalevans

@firephotogrl74

@tinkerbelle67

@before-we-get-started

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@peaceinourtime82

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@kmc1989

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[virginiaprelawland]

Tyre Nichols Death: Body Camera Footage Released

By Noreen Karam, University of Virginia Tech, Class of 2024

January 27, 2023

The city of Memphis released graphic video footage on Friday January 27th of the violent encounter between Tyre Nichols, a 29-year-old Black man, and the five police officers charged with murder in his beating death after a traffic stop earlier this month.

One video clip shows officers dragging Nichols from the driver's seat of his car as he yells, "Damn, I didn't do anything ... I am just trying to go home," and force him to the ground as they order him to lay on his stomach, then squirt him in the face with pepper spray. Nichols breaks free, scrambles to his feet, and sprints off down a road with officers in pursuit, firing stun guns at him. A separate video shows a subsequent struggle after officers catch up with Nichols again and are beating him. Two officers are seen holding him down as a third one kicks him and a fourth delivers blows with what appears to be a rod before another punches Nichols. The four segments of highly anticipated footage from police body-worn and dashboard cameras were posted online Friday evening a day after the officers were charged with second-degree murder, assault, kidnapping, official misconduct, and oppression.

The officers, all Black, had already been dismissed from the police department last Saturday following their Jan. 7 confrontation with Nichols after pulling him over. He succumbed to his injuries and died three days later while hospitalized. Memphis police chief Cerelyn Davis and lawyers for Nichols' family who watched the video with his relatives before it was released, warned that the images were brutal and likely to cause outrage, while appealing to the public for calm.

Civil rights attorney Ben Crump, representing Nichols' family, said the last words on the video were Nichols crying out for his mother. "No mother should go through what I am going through right now, no mother, to lose their child to the violent way that I lost my child," Tyre Nichols' mother, RowVaughn Wells, said on Friday. The footage was likely to transform Nichols, the father of a 4-year-old described as an affable, accomplished skateboarder who recently enrolled in a photography class, into the next face of the U.S. racial justice movement.

Raised in Sacramento, California, Nichols moved before the coronavirus pandemic to the Memphis area, where he lived with his mother and stepfather and worked at FedEx, taking a break each day to come home for a meal prepared by his mother. Nichols' family and President Joe Biden have appealed for protests to stay peaceful in Memphis, a city of 628,000 where nearly 65% of residents are Black. Schools were scheduled to close early, and Saturday morning events were canceled.

Biden spoke with RowVaughn Wells and Rodney Wells, Nichols’ stepfather, on Friday afternoon to express his condolences, the White House said, adding that it was coordinating with relevant government agencies in case protests turn violent. Nichols' death marked the latest high-profile instance of police officers accused of using excessive force in the deaths of Black people and other minorities in recent years. These have been publicly condemned as systemic racism in the U.S. criminal justice system. Protests under the banner of the "Black Lives Matter" movement against racial injustice erupted globally following the May 2020 murder of George Floyd, a Black man who died after a white Minneapolis police officer knelt on his neck for more than nine minutes. Antonio Romanucci, another lawyer for Nichols' family, told National Public Radio in an interview on Friday that Nichols was a strong supporter of the Black Lives Matter movement and "basically died for his own cause."

U.S. Attorney General Merrick Garland on Friday announced a federal civil rights investigation into Nichols' death, while law enforcement agencies in some major cities, including New York, Atlanta, and Washington, said they were preparing for possible protests following the video's release. The White House said it held a conference call with mayors from several cities to brief them on federal preparations for the anticipated release of the footage and asked the mayor to remain in regular contact in the coming days.

Police have described the circumstances of Nichols' arrest in vague terms. Even Shelby County District Attorney Steve Mulroy, who sought the officers' indictment, was circumspect when announcing the charges. After Nichols was pulled over for reckless driving, "an altercation" ensued in which officers doused him with pepper spray, and Nichols tried to flee on foot, Mulroy said. "There was another altercation at a nearby location at which the serious injuries were experienced by Mr. Nichols." Davis said her department has not yet been able determine whether there was probable cause for the officers to pull Nichols over for reckless driving, a traffic stop which set in motion the violent events that followed.

Crump said the speed at which the criminal charges were brought against the officers - fewer than three weeks after Nichols' death - should be a standard for police-involved killings. In some other high-profile cases, such as the police killing of Laquan McDonald in Chicago in 2014, more than a year elapsed before the release of police video and the filing of charges. "We want to proclaim that this is the blueprint going forward for any time any officers, whether they be Black or white, will be held accountable," Crump said. "No longer can you tell us we got to wait six months to a year.” Lawyers for the family also called on the police department to disband the special SCORPION unit focused on violent street crime to which at least some of the officers were assigned. Davis has said the department will review SCORPION and other specialized units. Crump compared the encounter to the 1991 videotaped beating of Black motorist Rodney King by four police officers whose subsequent acquittal of criminal charges sparked days of riots in Los Angeles.

All five officers - Tadarrius Bean, Demetrius Haley, Emmitt Martin III, Desmond Mills Jr., and Justin Smith - were fired from the police force on Jan. 21 after an internal investigation found they breached multiple department policies, including use of excessive force. Four of the officers have posted bail and have been released from jail, a CBS affiliate reported on Friday. A lawyer for Mills, Blake Ballin, said it might be another two weeks before the defendants make their initial court appearances.

______________________________________________________________

https://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-news/live-blog/tyre-nichols-video-release-live-updates-rcna67898

https://www.wsj.com/articles/tyre-nichols-memphis-authorities-to-release-video-footage-of-encounter-with-police-11674819846

https://apnews.com/article/tyre-nichols-police-officers-charged-48d48f2137a2f34482274edb1bd1bab2

[cherienymphe]

Dollhouse (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

WARNINGS: eventual NON-CON, eventual DUB-CON, eventual loss of virginity, eventual emotional abuse, eventual substance use, innocent!reader, alluded to little!reader, mentions of age regression, toxic friendships, best friend’s brother!Bucky, hints of unrequited Steve x reader

➥ banner by @maysdigitalarts​​ | divider by @firefly-graphics​​

➥ series masterlist

summary: You and Rebecca Barnes are polar opposites, but she’s the closest thing you have to a sister. When your friendship starts to show its cracks, Bucky seizes the opportunity to corner the girl who’s always been just out of reach.

~

You swallowed down your irritation when Rebecca finally pulled into the parking lot, an apologetic smile on her face. Her windswept hair fell around her face in dark waves, her smile widening into a toothy grin when you made your way to her car. She caught the way your eyes lingered on the time as you strapped yourself in, and she sighed.

“I know I’m late,” she breathed, already anticipating your ire. “I didn’t realize how much time had passed.”

“You said you’d pick me up over an hour ago.”

You tried your best to keep your tone neutral, but it was hard. It was warming up outside now, and thin tops and leggings could only keep you so cool. You didn’t intend to be dramatic, but you wondered would Rebecca even have a sense of urgency if you were dying.

“I got here as fast as I could,” she cried.

You didn’t respond, opting instead to look out of the window. You didn’t mention the fact that she’d been the one to offer to pick you up from dance class. You’d been set on calling an uber, but she’d insisted, and you hadn’t wanted to just leave when you were under the impression that she was on the way. You could feel her eyes on you when your silence continued, and you felt her fingers graze your arm.

“I got us tickets to see that cheesy movie you’ve been talking about…”

You blinked, fighting back a smile at her words. Against your best efforts, you could feel your resolve breaking. You could never stay mad at Rebecca for long, and you both loved and hated it. You were starting to feel like she thought she could just buy your forgiveness, and you let her. After all, even though she wasn’t perfect, she wasn’t a horrible friend. She could just be wrapped up in herself sometimes, but she wasn’t a terrible person.

“I thought we could go by my house before and get ready there,” she offered. “Bucky’s having some people over tonight, so he’ll be too busy to even acknowledge us.”

You nodded at that, frowning a bit, and clearly Rebecca took it the wrong way.

“Forgive me…?”

Your eyes met hers, and you nodded with a small smile, your thoughts lingering on Bucky.

Growing up with Rebecca meant growing up with her brother too. He wasn’t the same age as you, but he wasn’t old enough to be completely removed from your life and realm of reality. He was kind of always just there, lingering in the background or your peripheral vision, offering a quip or snide comment here and there. He and Rebecca got along but still argued like most siblings you knew, but you could never find it in yourself to view him as some extended brother.

He'd made you cry too much for that.

Rebecca would always say that it was Bucky just being Bucky, and you knew that. You knew that he probably didn’t mean any real harm, and that you were just being your normal sensitive self, but you couldn’t help it. Every time he turned his attention to you, his eyes just felt a little too cold and his tone a bit too biting.

It was a shame, really. From the moment you met Bucky, you remembered how excited you’d been to befriend the brother of your new friend. Rebecca had roped you into her world with ease, but your excitement had quickly died when the older boy had taken one look at you and scoffed, asking his sister why she was bringing home a friend who still carried a stuffed animal around.

It was years ago, but even now, your heart still clenched when you thought about that day. Even Rebecca’s defense hadn’t been enough to stop the tears from kissing your eyes. You hadn’t been conscious of it then, but you’d made a vow to never cry in front of him, especially since he had taken so much pleasure in your distress then. Bucky seemed to enjoy teasing you a lot, a crooked smile on his lips every time he made a comment about your shoes or how you wore your hair.

“Give it a rest,” Rebecca would always say, easily as fed up as you were.

You supposed that’s why you could never bring yourself to really be mad at her. Rebecca wasn’t perfect by any means, but she was the closest thing you had to a sister, and she protected you like one.

“After graduation, I was thinking that we could go on a road trip,” Rebecca said as you both got out of her car. “Stay in cute little Inns and go shopping at boutiques. Breakfast in bed…”

She threaded her fingers through yours as you both made your way up the steps. Bucky had inherited the house and their father’s company when their parents died a few years ago, and you were still surprised that he was doing such a good job of keeping up with everything. He’d always been a party guy throughout high school, and that hadn’t changed at all during college. It hadn’t even changed now.

It was a wonder that Rebecca was even able to get anything done while living with him. She’d always seemed like she wanted to get out of the house as soon as she graduated high school, but you guessed that her pride didn’t outweigh her desire to save money while staying at home during college. Putting up with Bucky and his friends was probably a small price to pay.

“That sounds nice, Rebecca, but you know I’ve been trying to get that internship this summer. It’s a miracle that I’m even being considered,” you reminded her.

You heard Rebecca sigh, and you tried to think nothing of it when she pulled her hand from yours. You could feel yourself frowning, but it went away when she glanced at you with a smile. It was strained.

“You’re so studious,” she praised, but it didn’t sound affectionate.

You resisted the urge to sigh. You were Rebecca’s only true friend, and you knew she got possessive of you at times, but as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t do everything together. That seemed to be the only way she’d ever be satisfied, and you wondered if a day would come where you’d stop trying to make her happy. After all, you’d turned down an out of state school just to stay in town with her, and that still hadn’t been enough.

“Who knows if I’ll even get it,” you heard yourself saying, trying to appease her. “We can look at some places tonight and pick out the best ones.”

She seemed satisfied with that, her mood lifting, and you followed her up the stairs. As you climbed them, you heard a noise from the kitchen behind you, and when you glanced over your shoulder, your eyes met familiar blue ones as Bucky peeked around the corner. The smile he sent you was small and familiar, and despite your complicated relationship with him, you hesitantly returned it.

“Rebecca…”

“His name is Brock, and I really like him,” she argued as you two stood outside of the movie theater.

“I thought we were supposed to be seeing a movie. We’re literally here,” you cried in frustration.

“This is the only free night he has for another 2 weeks! Besides, you wanted to see this movie. I was just here for support,” she told you.

You glanced away.

“Which you won’t be if you leave,” you quietly said.

You resisted the urge to cry, chest tightening as you could feel yourself shrinking in on yourself. You were getting frustrated and angry and sad and overwhelmed all in one, and you desired nothing more in this moment than to curl up on your bed and watch Sailor Moon. This wouldn’t be the first time Rebecca ditched you for some guy, and while you were always the first one to support a girl’s right to get laid, you didn’t exactly enjoy being abandoned.

Rebecca playfully rolled her eyes, and you watched her pull out her phone.

“I’ll just call Bucky-.”

“What? No! Are you crazy?” you asked, reaching for her phone.

“This was my treat to you, but there’s no point in my ticket going to waste. Besides, now you don’t have to uber home,” she replied.

How silly of you to think that Rebecca at least had the intention of coming back in time to pick you up. It didn’t seem like anything you had to say was going to change her mind, and so you accepted the situation for what it was as she stood on the phone with Bucky. She hugged you goodbye, and your own was weak in return but she didn’t seem to notice or care. Once she was out of sight, you contemplated just tossing both tickets and leaving.

However, you were sure that Bucky had had way more important things to do than go see a movie with his sister’s friend, and the least you could do was not waste his time and apologize on his sister’s behalf. After leaving his ticket and name with the teenage ticket checker, you unenthusiastically made your way inside. Normally you would’ve happily spent $30 on ice cream and snacks, but your mood and appetite were dampened.

You were seated and 30 minutes into the movie when the seat next to you was taken. You didn’t think anything of it, and at this point had forgotten about Bucky entirely when his low voice reached your ears.

“Both you and my sister owe me.”

You jumped in your seat a bit as his cool breath reached your skin, and you turned to glance at him with wide eyes. In the dark room, the light from the screen hit his face in a way that made him appear almost ominous in nature. The faint smirk on his pink lips didn’t help. With a huff, you turned away from him.

“No talking during the movie,” you mumbled.

Your skin pricked at the sound of his chuckle, and you couldn’t help but to clasp your hands together at his close proximity. You could count the number of times on one hand that you’d been alone with Bucky, even less to be so close. You wouldn’t say you disliked Bucky, even after all the times he made you cry, but outside of how he talked to you, you weren’t a fan of how he looked at you sometimes either. Sometimes it felt like he was laughing at you without even opening his mouth.

To your surprise, he didn’t comment on the “cheesiness” of the film and even remained quiet for the duration of it. When it was over, you wanted more than anything to just go home, and you were on your feet before Bucky was. You could feel his eyes on you as you grabbed your purse.

“What’s the rush, doll?”

Your gaze met his, and you swallowed as he tilted his head to the side. He called you that sometimes, and despite the term of endearment, you had never found it endearing. He did it to be a jerk, assigning the pet name after the first time you’d brought one of your dolls over to their house. He’d been just as snide then, and Rebecca had been the one to soothe you when you made it to her room.

“No rush,” you quietly told him. “I just want to go home, and I’m sure you do too.”

You recalled that Bucky had planned to have people over. It wasn’t too late for him to still do that. Bucky looked like he wanted to say something but instead opted against it. He ran his blue gaze over you, briefly, but slowly enough to make you uncomfortable before standing with you. Silence lingered between you as you followed him to his car, and just as you reached for the door, Bucky beat you to it. However, his hand remained there, and you curiously looked at him. He drank you in again, and this time his lips curved into a smile.

“You look nice today,” he told you to which you rolled your eyes.

“Sure,” you replied, reaching for the door again but he stopped you.

“I’m serious,” he said. “You look pretty. It’s a shame it was wasted.”

His words held conviction, and his tone was serious. You reluctantly accepted the sincerity in his compliment, and you felt your face heating up.

“Well…thank you,” you replied, fingering the end of your dress. “…and I’m sorry that Rebecca made you do this.”

You struggled to hold his unwavering gaze, and Bucky chuckled.

“Trust me, doll. I don’t do anything I don’t want to do.”

He finally opened the door for you, and you slid inside. Your eyes lingered on the window when he joined you, and the car was filled with the low sound of music. You checked your phone and was unsurprised by the lack of notifications from Rebecca. You locked your phone and hoped that she was at least having a good time. One of you should you supposed.

“I never understood how you two remained friends for so long, you know.”

Bucky’s words surprised you, and you glanced at him with a frown.

“I know she can be…”

“Selfish? Shitty?”

Your frown deepened, and you shook your head.

“I was going to say a little too wrapped up in herself,” you sighed. “…and you shouldn’t talk about her like that. She’s your sister.”

“…and she’s a bad friend.”

“Bucky,” you sighed.

“You love her, and I love you for it, but you’re a much better friend to her than she ever has been to you.”

Several things about that sentence struck you, and you thought to yourself that this was the most you’d ever talked to Bucky.

“How would you know that?” you genuinely asked. “You hardly know me.”

It was true. Despite knowing Bucky for over a decade, neither one of you really knew each other at all. You went out of your way to avoid him, and he went out of his way to make you feel small.

“I know you read when you’re sad. You like to bake when you want to make Rebecca feel better, and I know that you turned down a full scholarship just to stay in town for my sister.”

Your gazes met briefly, and he smiled at the frown on your face.

“Come on. You’ve been sleeping in my sister’s room and eating at our table for years. I know you better than you think…”

The dark-haired man placed his hand on your thigh, and you thought nothing of it when he tapped his finger against your skin.

“…and I know that you’re a great friend.”

“He was the perfect gentleman,” Rebecca said, sounding less than enthused with how her date ended. “But we’re going out again next week, so maybe that date will be much better.”

Your eyes remained closed beneath your shades as you laid beside her, the smell of nail polish reaching your nose just as you heard a car pull into the front yard. You had hoped that her date would’ve gone better. After all, at least something good would’ve come out of her ditching you. After Bucky had walked you to your door, wishing you a goodnight, you’d curled up in your room and had just allowed your mind to wander.

Was Bucky right?

Were you a better friend to Rebecca than she was to you?

She had her moments, this was true, but you didn’t think Bucky of all people had any room to say anything after he was the one who always made you cry. And it was always Rebecca defending you against him and making you feel better. She always looked out for you, and she never judged your penchant for childish films or the way you felt your prettiest in some frilly dress or the bows you liked to wear on your head.

You’d been 10 when you met, and she hadn’t said a word about the stuffed animal you used to carry around. In fact, she’d only ever asked why you did one day, and you’d told her that it made you feel safe and that had been that. Not once had Rebecca ever judged you…unlike her brother. So, no. You didn’t think that Bucky got to sit there and talk about your friendship like he knew it.

You felt your skin heat up as a familiar voice traveled to you through the open backdoor. You felt yourself turning your head just a tad, eyes wide behind your shades when a deep laugh reached your ears, your suspicions confirmed.

“Oh brother,” you heard Rebecca mumble, but you paid her no mind.

The first time you saw Steve Rogers, you remembered thinking how beautiful he was. His light eyes and light hair made him look angelic, and you remembered wondering what he was doing hanging out with Bucky of all people. Rebecca had been the one to tell you that they were childhood friends, practically like brothers, and even though you would have never found the courage to anyway, there was no way you could ever talk to him under Bucky’s watchful eye.

“I will never understand what you see in him,” Rebecca said just as Steve walked past the door, followed by Bucky. “He’s so…nice.”

“What’s wrong with nice?” you wistfully wondered, fighting the urge to imagine what yours and Steve’s children would look like.

“Nothing,” she chuckled. “If you want some boring guy who only fucks you in the missionary position for five minutes once a week.”

You scrunched your nose in disgust at her words, shaking your head.

“Rebecca…please…”

“…but then again, maybe that’s what every girl needs for her first time. I would’ve taken that over five minutes under the bleachers any day.”

You finally sat up, shaking your head at her.

“I’m going to get some more chips. Do you want anything?”

“A fork to stab my eyes out with so I won’t have to watch you eye fuck Steve Rogers,” she said, polishing her toenail.

You ignored her remark, making your way inside just as Steve’s booming laugh traveled from upstairs. When you finished pouring the last of the chips, choosing to grab a jar of salsa too, you were surprised to find Bucky leaning in the doorway. You jumped a bit, pressing a hand to your chest and wondering how long he’d been there.

“You scared me,” you chuckled, and Bucky only returned it with a small smile. “Did you want some?”

He simply shook his head, reaching out to steady you when you attempted to move by him with an arm full of stuff.

“Don’t let my sister work you too hard,” he commented, and your response was a small ‘ha ha’.

When you made it back to the poolside, you noticed that Rebecca had folded up her towel and was on her feet. You got a sinking feeling in your stomach, and it only grew when she lifted her head to look at you with a sheepish smile. You didn’t even say anything, simply looking away with a huff as she clutched her phone.

“Some free time just opened up for Brock. He’s taking tomorrow off too…”

Your shoulders drooped.

“I’ll grab my stuff, I guess,” you exhaled.

“No,” Rebecca cried, placing her hands on your shoulders. “Who knows if I’ll even spend the night with him? Stay here. You do all the time anyway.”

You looked at her like she was crazy.

“Not by myself…and definitely not with…” you glanced at an upstairs window. “…Steve around.”

“Bucky won’t even bother you…”

She suddenly grinned, squeezing your shoulder.

“…and take this as an opportunity! I doubt you enjoy pining after Steve. Make that dream a reality,” she encouraged, walking past you.

She was right, after all, about more things than one. Bucky was probably going to have more of his friends over so he definitely wouldn’t even acknowledge you again, and Steve… You didn’t know if you’d ever have the nerve to even talk to Steve outside of pleasantries, and part of you wondered if you even wanted to. Having a crush on him was safe. You’d seen Rebecca get her heart broken plenty of times, and that wasn’t a situation you were keen on putting yourself in.

You wouldn’t have to worry about that by simply gazing at him and dreaming about him from afar.

“Alone again?”

You flinched at the sudden sound of a familiar voice, and you tore your eyes away from the sight of your feet in the water to look up at Bucky as he stood over you. He was blocking the sun, and there was a ghost of a smile on his face as he gazed at you.

“I just saw Rebecca leave,” he added, pointing over his shoulder.

“She’s coming back,” you told him, but it sounded like a lie even to your own ears.

As if Bucky saw right through it, he scoffed.

“Why don’t you come upstairs with Steve and me? My mama would be turning over in her grave if I left you all alone in this house,” he offered.

Your eyes widened a bit at the mention of Steve, and you didn’t miss the way Bucky’s narrowed. You let out a nervous chuckle, turning your face away with a shake of your head.

“I couldn’t bother you. Besides, I’m sure I’m one of the last people Steve wants to hang out with.”

“Don’t be like that. Steve likes you just fine…”

It was almost embarrassing how fast you whipped your head back around, and your wide eyes met Bucky’s.

“He does…?” you hesitantly asked.

Bucky didn’t respond right away, staring at you with a look you couldn’t place. His eyes narrowed again, and you watched him tilt his head to the side before a smile curved along his lips.

“Of course, he does. You’re a sweetheart, how can he not?”

You looked down at that, fighting back a smile before going against your better judgement and agreeing. You took Bucky’s outstretched hand, allowing him to help you up.

“Careful, doll. You can come back for your towel and stuff later,” he told you, pulling you inside.

It seemed that both he and Rebecca had an affinity for just pulling you around. You didn’t linger on it though, your mind too preoccupied with the fact that Steve liked you just fine. He had never been anything less than polite, but you didn’t think it went beyond simply tolerating the presence of his best friend’s little sister’s friend.

The blond man was on the phone when you made it upstairs, and he paused briefly to wave at you, a genuine smile on his face. You returned it, maybe a little too enthusiastically, and you couldn’t stop your perusal when he turned away again. Your gaze was pulled away again when Bucky let you go to brush his finger down your arm.

“Hmm?”

There was a mocking smirk on his lips, but it was gone just as quickly as it came, and Bucky led you towards his closet.

“Here. We don’t want you to get a cold,” he said, pulling one of his sweaters from his closet.

You opened your mouth to protest, but you swallowed your words when he forced it over your head, and you had no choice but to push your arms through the sleeves. Bucky chuckled as he adjusted it on you, hands kneading into your arms and shoulders. You were just about to thank him when Steve spoke.

“That was Sam. He’s having an issue with some of the paperwork, so I’m going to deal with that, and we’ll come back here.”

You tried not to let your disappointment show, and oddly enough, Bucky’s hand on your arm was a comforting presence. You were reminded of the fact that they were well out of college and had lives that involved actual careers. You tugged on the end of Bucky’s sweater.

“Oh… Maybe I should just go since you’re dealing with business…”

“Don’t be silly,” Steve said with a grin, messing up your hair. “You’re Bucky’s friend.”

“Yeah, doll,” Bucky said, his arm resting on your shoulders now. “You don’t need Rebecca around to stay. Truthfully…”

He leaned in, his nose almost brushing yours as he smiled.

“I’ve always liked you better.”

Steve waved you both goodbye before you had a chance to defend Rebecca.

“We shouldn’t be too long, and hey. Let me know what Tony says. See you later, Y/N.”

Steve’s parting words and acknowledgment made your stomach twist, and your own goodbye was soft. You forced yourself not to stare after him like some lovesick fool, and Bucky pulled you along.

“Have a seat. I’ll put on a movie,” he told you.

“You really don’t have to,” you said. “I have no problem just going home.”

Bucky steered you away from the chair you were heading towards, gently pushing you to sit on his bed, and you watched him as he knelt before you with a sigh. It was in this moment that you realized how kind of pretty Bucky was. You had never thought about it before, but his dark hair was a perfect contrast to his blue eyes, making them stand out all the more. His pink lips were pulled into a soft smile, and the stubble on his jaw made him look more mature than you knew him to be.

“I can be an ass sometimes, this is true, but you’re not just my little sister’s friend.”

Your brows drew together as he held your gaze, blue eyes flitting over your face before briefly pulling his lip between his teeth.

“I actually give a damn about you, you know, and…”

Bucky trailed off, shaking his head.

“I don’t like the way she treats you sometimes. You’re a good person and a good friend, and you don’t deserve it,” he whispered, resting his hands on your knees.

You didn’t really like where this conversation was going. At the moment, you felt like you weren’t being a good friend by allowing Bucky to insinuate things about Rebecca like that.

“I know she’s not perfect-.”

“See. There you go again,” he said, interrupting your soft defense, and he smiled.

You looked away, accepting that you would just have to agree to disagree on this topic.

“This is just as much your home as it is hers. You’re welcome here with or without her, and I want to make sure you know that,” Bucky told you, brushing his thumbs along the inside of your knees. “Now, can I please turn on your favorite movie and fix you something to eat and remind you that you can have fun without my sister?”

Your nod was hesitant, but it made Bucky’s smile widen, nonetheless. He stood, one of his hands sliding a ways up your thigh as he did so before tapping your chin. With encouragement from him, you made yourself comfortable on his bed, and it wasn’t long before you forgot about Rebecca’s abandonment entirely.

~

tags:  @xoxabs88xox​  @mcudarklibrary​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @sebabestianstan101​ @opheliadawnwalker3​ @pinkzsugar​ @villanellevi​ @cheeseburgersstuff​  @my-favorite-fics-and-imagines​ @nightsinneverland​ @alexakeyloveloki​ @grayxswan​  @undecidedsworld​ @fanfic-fangirl​ @peach-buns-unicorns​ @vicmc624​  @weird-mumbling​ @outlawedmando​ @izzfizzh​  @everything-is-awesomesauce​ @donutloverxo​ @wondergal2001​  @rosalynshields​ @mandiiblanche​ @stinkywhore​ @lunaticgurly​ @shippers-heart​ @local-witch-of-mn​ @youlovetkay​ @eralen​ @chimaeracabra​ @dontbescaredtosingalong​ @lokislastlove​ @coconutqueen21​ @hurricanerin​ @trinittyy​ @hyoyeoniie​ @gotnofucks​ @oneoftheprettynerds​ @doozywoozy​ @melli0112​ @buckybarnesplumwhore​  @kvzctam @mansaaay​ @thanatosfic​ @emberenchanted​ @sgt-seabass​​ @harryspet​​

[interact-if]

[ID: a banner-style graphic featuring light blue details over a dark blue background. Tiled floral designs decorate the borders of the banner, and the border is separated from the rest of the image but a rectangular border with inverted rounded corners that feature a small floral design as well. A faint mandala made of rounded lines decorates the middle of the image, behind the centred text. Text reads, in light blue: "Interact-IF presents: Asian & Pacific Islander Heritage Month". /end ID]

May is Asian and Pacific Islander Heritage Month!

During the next following weeks, we will feature interviews of Asian and Pacific Islander creators. Discussing their inspirations for their projects and experience as IF creators, we want to shed a light on their journey.

Here are our month’s featured authors, please check out their works and join us in supporting them.

Nacre, Author of Joint Venture.

Five years have passed since Eric died in the hands of the Agency. All this time you’ve been on the run with your brother’s murderers on your heels.

One day, during a mission on your own, you meet some mysterious strangers who intervene with your plans.

Although they turn out to be old friends with your brother, you’re not sure whether you can trust them. Nevertheless you share the same goal: earning back your freedom by taking down the Agency.

You play as an ex-agent trying to solve the murder of your brother while you are hiding from your former employers who, unfortunately, want to see you dead too.

Read more about Joint Venture here.

Play the Demo here.

Tags: Crime, spy-fi, romance, action, conspiracy, bromance

Nacre is also the author of Morning Star, a dark fantasy game where you play as Lucifer. You can play that demo here.

Ze, one of authors of Chronicles of Tal’Dun: The Remainder

(VN)

This is a story of two magi, Vyn and Ilar, who find themselves trapped in a collapsing tower with their only hope for salvation being a difficult ritual. Or at least that is what Ilar tells you. The thing is - you don’t remember anything, and Ilar’s story makes less and less sense the closer you are to the ritual. Are they hiding things to protect you from the bitter truth, or are they deceiving you for some more nefarious reason?

Guide Vyn’s actions to death and beyond and uncover Ilar’s truth. Are they your colleague, lover or something completely different? Read between the lines of what they are telling you, explore your surroundings for clues and use hands-on deduction to break the viscious circle and set them free.

Read more about Chronicles of Tal’Dun: The Remainder here.

Play the Game on Steam or Itch.

Tags: Fantasy, Mystery.

Allie, author of College Tennis: Origin Story

Will the once-great Cargill Coyotes succeed in reclaiming the NCAA Div I championship title for the first time since the 90s? Will you succeed in making a name for yourself, both on and off the tennis court? And perhaps more importantly…how much are you willing to sacrifice in pursuit of these dreams?

Start at the bottom as a newly-recruited freshman at Cargill university, and claw your way to the championships. Forge lifelong friendships, pursue budding romances, attend classes, and rush term papers -or party- till the sun comes up.

Read more about College Tennis: Origin Story here.

Play the Demo here.

Tags: Sport, Slice-of-life.

Allie is also the author of Merry Crisis.

Zico, author of The Night Abridged

You were supposed to be a sacrifice but instead of dying, you find yourself being the new vessel of an old Eldritch Horror who offers you power that no other could have for a little taste of freedom. Unfortunately for you, your captors had other plans for you and decided to utilise your newly given abilities as their own personal puppet.

After being sent out to hunt down a traitor of The Court of Night, a series of unfortunate events sends you off the intended path and onto another where you then find yourself fighting an evil greater than the ones you know.

Will you remain a puppet of The Court or will you cut the strings that tie you to them?

Read more about The Night Abridged here.

DEMO: TBA.

Tags: Fantasy.

Zico is also the author of Exurgo. a fantasy project where you play as a newly awaken immortal being. For more information, click here.

Mouse and Ram, authors of Beau Ideals

Merchants stare up and out, some advertising their goods, yelling, others perched, confident that the outward quality of their wares is enough to draw customers in: rubble arranged on tables, mageware scattered in between with display lights illuminating milky crystals; the fruit of their ventures into the Expanse, the hope that it was worth their sacrifice. It all passes in a blur and I feel the press of time. One of these items will be worth the risk of stealing. It will be my last act as a free citizen before disappearing into the Southern Expanse.

A low-level criminal on the run for the crime of the century, the end of your journey approaches as you arrive in Lau Lyssa, the Kingdom’s southernmost city. Resigned to your fate of living as a fugitive in the wilds of the Southern Expanse, you know you only have so much time before word of your misdeed sweeps the land.

Read more about Beau Ideals here.

Play the Demo Here.

Tags: Fantasy.

Jinx author of Elsinore: After Hamlet

Once upon a time, a prince avenged his father’s death. If only he could have foreseen his own.

The year is 2021—or maybe 1602? Hamlet the Younger has just tragically died and Fortinbras the Younger, King of Norway and newly-conquered Denmark, has a lot of cleaning up to do. Elsinore: After Hamlet is a text-based interactive fiction exploration of William Shakespeare's Hamlet as a plague text and a reckoning of Asian American identity during these trying times. Also contains bad puns and glowing text.

Read more about Elsinore: After Hamlet here.

Play the Game Here.

Tags: Fantasy.

Jinx is also the author of The Harrowed and the Hushed and Rougi.

Shan, author of Deliverance

You are the Messenger. Your job is to deliver messages. Get in, get out. Simple, really.

Now, it’s time to put your life on the line to deliver the most important and dangerous message yet. A bad omen has driven the lands into a frenzy, and the Prophecy foretells that the Chosen One needs to be found and awoken to bring peace back to the lands.

Embark on a quest to seek the Chosen One to help restore balance to the world, or witness the world succumb to chaos and catastrophe..

Read more about Deliverance here.

Play the Demo Here.

Tags: Fantasy.

Sou, author of Cherry Soda

As children, an accident between you and your friend Ryan changed the course of your life forever. Since then, you have transversed the boundary of life and death: your waking moments are haunted by memories of the living and the remnants of the deceased.

The two of you diverged; Ryan began attending elite private academy, and you summarily moved across the country. A phone call years later between the two of ends with you promising to come visit her, a throwaway sentence you thought to be nothing more than a platitude.

Following six months of radio silence, you sense her death before the search team even finds her body. And suddenly, the phone call may have been part of something a lot larger.

Swept up in a whirlwind of the horrific inheritance she left behind for you to uncover, the more you investigate, the deeper the lies and secrets go. A reckless desperation to break the fate that threatened to overtake the both of you had led Ryan down a path of no return. The same path you now find yourself on.

Read more about Cherry Soda here.

Play the Demo here.

Tags: Fantasy.

Neha, author of Demurela.

DEMURELA is a dark fantasy interactive fiction. You, a former witch, now a night-hunter (people prefer to call you The Seeker) are seeking revenge for your dead lover, and your dead father, along with your siblings, from the millennial old eidolon who has been after the witches of your blood line for centuries.

Along the way, you find the lives at stake because of your journey. Will you protect them or let them fall as collateral damage? What makes you think you have the power of choice when you land in thr capital city of Demurela? The capital visited only by the most superior of the courts? The capital where The Undead Queen and The Lupine Leader dominate?

What will you choose to do when the rulers’ adopted child nears to be the collateral damage of your rage? Will you protect the little one while fulfilling your oath, or will you give into the feeling of the world being nothing but selfish?

Read more about Demurela here.

Demo TBA.

Tags: Dark fantasy.

[darkestcorners]

code red | yandere!jimin au

pairing: doctor!jimin x reader {f}

genre: yandere

warnings: heavy and dark themes, ( TW; mentions of drug abuse & addiction ) graphic language, smut, obsessive & unhealthy behavior, manipulation, power abuse in medical setting, kidnapping

word count: 12.7k

summary: Your new doctor is more than determined to take care of his favorite patient...

A/N; I apologize if I did misuse any medical terminology i actually did do some research beforehand but there might be typos because it’s not edited completely yet. i had this idea for a while now but im a bit iffy about it, please let me know if you guys would like a part 2?? thank you :) ( also excuse the shitty banner but ever since i learned how to make them i cant stop lol)

The illuminated halls were headache inducing, the heavy scent of chlorine was thick in the air and the constant monitors going off signaling a room was in need of a nurse’s assistance was never stopping. It was a slow day as it usually was. The hospital was located in the most reclusive areas of the small town, tucked away where mainly locals resided in and had few outside visitors. If any at all.

Most would find the scene depressing, the hospital was in need of a few renovations as the blinding white lights flickered ever so often creating an ominous scene. The vending machines found at every corner were not the most functioning, and as for how long the snacks had gone without being switched out, the answer was debatable but it was safe to say most had expired.

Naturally, hospitals were not the most welcoming place and this one was definitely not exempt. The energy was heavy, filled with who knows how many lives had come to an end in these cold rooms.

It was unsettling, you never knew for sure if you were going to be leaving on your own two feet every time you came into one.

Or if you would be one of the unlucky ones that would have to be strolled out in a body bag, straight to a morgue.

However, that wasn’t your main concern. Much of anything really bothered you anymore, you had become all too familiar with the numbness. You supposed the sudden withdrawal of drugs would do that to a person. Nothing seemed to make you feel like they did, it was as if all fell short in comparison. You longed, craved for them every single minute of the day. Your mind was your own personal hell, not letting you escape the thoughts of pure ecstasy that used to come with that little powder,  or that occasional substance to the tongue.

It was ironic. You initially had started taking, breathing in anything that would take away any sort of pain you were feeling. They had worked so well that now you really didn’t feel anything even while you were off them, now they had become your only source of fulfillment and joy.

Funny, wasn’t it?

The first weeks and months of the withdrawal period are always the worst, that’s what they all said. It was a great test that many failed over and over. You hadn’t failed yet but you knew it was only a matter of time before you did. Now you only wondered if you would ever pass or completely utterly fail the final exam that determined your entire future. For good.

With no amount of extra credit that could save you.

No loopholes.

You had already failed many others, a high school dropout with no aspirations or any real dreams that had been raised by a single alcoholic mother. How original. It was the average unlucky life thousands and thousands of others are born into. You supposed your case was not unique at all, you were just one of the many failed products of society.

Your mother didn’t last long in your life, she had developed pancreatic cancer when you were 12 years-old and died shortly after. Although you weren’t ever close to your mother and she wasn’t exactly a good one, the effects of her death were still traumatizing enough for a young child. You had lost the only sense of familiarity, the only person you knew was meant to always be a part of your life. Whether good or bad, an obvious attachment was there. She was your mother after all, she had birthed you. After that, the many foster care homes you were in did little to fill in the gaps of your broken family. If you were ever hopeful you would find a found family in those homes, those hopes were quickly crushed. The parents hadn’t been the worst, you could say that. Some had been okay, a little dismissive but you supposed it was better than the abusive ones. You had started to prefer the ones that didn’t pay you any attention at all over the ones that paid too much attention to fill you with bruises.

You were glad that period of your life was over but arguably it might have been the most positive compared to the following chapters of your life. Dropping out of high school when you were 17 had only brought more issues. You had surrounded yourself with the wrong crowd from a young age and although you managed to keep some jobs throughout the years, they eventually stopped hiring you completely when your drug addiction became prominent. You couldn’t manage a simple task, let alone work for hours.

Then came the unfortunate consequences of your decisions, you were out of money and were soon kicked out by your landlord. Lucky for you, a friend had offered you a place to stay. It was more than you could ask for , a bed, well a floor, to sleep on and food. Instant ramen has become your main meal, cheap and easy.

But unfortunately for you, that friend was also your drug dealer. You were living with your own personal dose of poison everyday and when your friend had realized you didn’t have any plans of getting a job anytime soon, you quickly became bad business to him.You had no means to pay him now and while he was generous enough to provide you with some free stuff, that didn’t last long.

Of course you had offered to pay him in other ways but again, luck was never on your side and as it turned out, you didn’t have the right genitalia that turned him on.

You had never wanted to be a man more than in that moment.

You see , your withdrawal hadn’t exactly been out of your own free will. You had been forced to live without your addiction due to not having the means to be able to consume it anymore.Weed had been the most you had been able to get your hands on, and not good weed either. But that didn’t count in your eyes, if Mary Jane was all that was left for you then might as well consider yourself completely sober. Of course it couldn’t be that hard to find someone else to provide you with what you desire but you have yet to find that someone.

Besides, despite your desperation. You were a bit wary of the strangers you were surrounded with at the social service center. You didn’t have the best experience with people and while you were a bit too trusting in the past, you were working on fixing that about yourself.

“Have they still not passed you in?” You lifted your head up at the voice , the nurse waited expectantly for your answer. Her kind eyes curious.

You shook your head and she sighed looking down at her clipboard, she stepped out of the door and walked over to you. Her light blue scrubs fit extra loosely on her scrawny figure.

“You filled out the paperwork I left you, right?”

“Um, yeah.” You said in an unsure tone as you tapped the papers they had given you with the pen in a questioning manner.

“But what do I put if I don’t have a set address? “ You asked as you glanced down at the many sheets of unnecessary questions.

“It’s fine, just leave it blank.” She assured as she took the clipboard from your hands. “ Has the pain gotten worse?”

“No,” You drawled out, actually not noticing if it had or not. You had been dealing with it for days that the dull pain had become a normality at this point. 

“Just still there.”

“Has it traveled anywhere besides your stomach?” She asked as she wrote something down.

“I don’t think so..” You paused, signaling your hands down below you, pointing towards the middle. “ Just this area.”

The nurse eyed the area and nodded.

“ Alright, the doctor will see you in a minute.” She said as she flipped over the white pages and gave you a close lipped smile. “ I’m sorry for the long wait.”

You watched as she disappeared back inside the door and you were left with your agonizing thoughts again. You glanced around you, there were only a few people left in the ER and most of them looked to be in far worse shape than you. You had been waiting for more than an hour and you wondered if it was best to just get up and leave.

You stared down at your own worn out shoes, thankfully the community showers had not been packed today and you managed to bathe yourself and keep up with basic hygiene.

“Y/n.” You blinked up at the sound of your name, it was another nurse now. She seemed far less kind but you lifted yourself off the hard plastic seat and followed her through the door.

You slowly walked through the narrow hallway and the nurse pointed you to enter a room with many other patients that lay in different hospital beds with thin curtains being used as dividers.

Your eyes widened a bit, the ER waiting room had been fairly empty but apparently that wasn’t the case back here, these patients must have come in through ambulances.

“Actually,” She paused as she took a quick glance around the crowded area and let out a frustrated breath. “ It’s too full, I’ll move you to a smaller room instead.”

You silently trailed behind her as she led you through another narrow hallway and stopped in front of a door, she motioned for you to enter and you took a look around the small area. You were the only one here and this one looked far more like it was for regular primary care check ups rather than emergency ones.

“Step on the scale.” You walked over to the device, stepping on it and watching as the numbers spiked up on the digital screen.

“Alright, take a seat. I’ll take your blood pressure real quick.” She ordered as she began to already pull out a metal cart from the corner that held all types of medical equipment.

You sat yourself on the exam table, the paper underneath crunching up and your legs dangled.

The nurse came back beside you, motioning for you to take off your sweater and you zipped off the oversized material, leaving you with a flimsy tank top. She put the cuff around your arm as you glanced around the room, feeling the tightness come and go.

“It’s a little high, are you nervous?” She asked as she took it off and wrote on her folder beside her.

“No,” You replied simply.

She took a swift glance at you, examining your state.

“You taking any medications?”

“No,” You shook your head, lifting your hand to bite your nails in an attempt to release some of your impatience and agitation.

You wondered if she knew.

“Alright. A doctor will see you shortly.” She announced in an uninterested tone and turned on her heel, exiting the room.

You swung your legs, continuing to glance around the room repeatedly. It was filled with the usual boring stuff, the posters of body autonomy plastered everywhere  and you noted the many information sheets warning you of diabetic risks and heart disease placed on the counter near the sink.

You held one hand over your right eye as you tried to read the letters on the eye exam poster that was right in front of you. You squinted as the images blurred a bit.

Damn, you needed some glasses.

The quick knock followed by the sound of the door clicking open made you instantly drop your hand from your face as you saw the man enter.

He was looking down at the clipboard in his hand, a white button up shirt hugged his lean figure nicely and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. A stethoscope was wrapped around his neck and his shirt was tucked under a pair of black dress pants that showcased his slender waist. Dark hair fell over his face slightly but still you caught sight of his striking features underneath.

“Helloo..” He greeted in a sing-along voice as he shut the door behind him. “Y/n, is it?”

“Yeah,” You muttered and he looked up from the clipboard, your eyes widened involuntary at his youthful appearance. He was a pretty young doctor , not that you had seen that much in your life but he definitely stuck out. He was hot.

“What’s going on with you, today?” He questioned as he gave you a warm smile, eyes lingering on your face for longer than you expected.

“Um, my stomach hurts.” You state lamely, resting your hands on the bed as you eye the tag on the left side of his chest.

Dr. Park

“That’s no good, “ His eyes trail down your lower stomach before he glances back at his clipboard. “ It says here you’ve had pain for about 5 days now?”

You nod as you watch him cross over the room and take out a box of gloves, slipping them over his hands.

“Any fever? Vomiting?” He asks you as he motions for you to lay back on the bed and you hesitantly fall back on the cold leather table.

“Just kinda nauseous.”

“Can you lift up your shirt a bit for me?” You nod as you lift your tank top, revealing your lower stomach and you try not to wince at his cold gloved hands touching your skin.

“Sorry,” He gave you a tight lipped smile when he notices you shiver.

“Tell me if it hurts.” He states as he presses down slightly on the left side of your lower stomach and you shut your eyes.

“A little.” You mumble and he moves his hands towards the right side of your stomach and does the same, pain shoots through your body.

“Am I dying?” You deadpan, opening an eye back up to glance at him.

“Doubtful,” He lets out an amused chuckle at your comment, showcasing his perfect smile. “ I’m just trying to make sure it’s not your appendix.”

“Hopefully not, no way I’d ever pay off that surgery.”

“College student?” He questioned as he continued to press down on different parts of your stomach and you shook your head.

You wish.

“Uh, no.” You let out a nervous laugh. “ I didn’t even finish high school.”

He looked mildly surprised by your statement and you couldn’t figure out if it was because he genuinely couldn’t believe that or if he was wondering why you were sharing that information with him.

“Nothing wrong with that,” He smiled as he lifted your shirt back down and turned back to dispose of his gloves.

“Does your job have any benefits?”

How do you casually tell someone you were practically homeless.

“Oh, I don’t work either.” You said as you sat back up, your legs swinging back and forth again rapidly,

You saw him eye your fidgety movements , gaze slowly traveling down your legs.

“Oh,” He replied after a lengthy pause , no judgment was in his tone but you couldn’t figure out what exactly the emotion behind it was.

“Your blood pressure recorded was a little high, are you feeling nervous?” He says taking a glance at the clipboard on the counter before his eyes meet yours again, his gaze had become more inquisitive.

He seemed to obviously be referring to your anxious movements that you couldn’t help. You scratched the back of your ear as you tried to settle your overactive leg with your other hand.

These withdrawal symptoms were really fucking you up.

“No, I’m just impatient, you know?” You shrugged . “ I was here the other day and they sent me back , just wanna see what’s up with this pain.”

“Oh really?” He raises an eyebrow as he takes out a small flashlight from the pocket behind his pants, he raises it to your face.

“I don't know why they would do that, I’ll have a talk with the nurses.” He assures you as his finger comes under your chin, lifting your head up slightly.

“Follow my finger, okay?” He puts up his pointer finger to your face as he moves it back and forth. You squint at the bright light and follow his movements.

“Hm,” He hums as he clicks off the flashlight.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, getting slightly nervous. “ I’m not taking any medications by the way, the nurse asked me that before you came.”

“Not like I could anyway..” You added to your rambling.” I-I mean I can but you know, well you don’t know-“

You saw his gaze leave his clipboard and eyes coming to study you again in the midst of your word vomit.

“Never mind.” You shook your head.

“Right,” He replied, giving you a slow nod as he turned to face you completely and crossed his arms.

“So, no medications?” He asked with a tilt of his head.

“Nope.”

“Well, I want to make sure it’s not your appendix so we will have some blood work done and maybe a CT scan,” He explained, his ringed finger tapping against his arm. “ How does that sound?”

A blood test?

God damn it.

You were planning on just scheming your way in here and walking out with some pain pills, something to help soothe your specific craving right now.

That was what had happened last time, you had convinced the lady at the ER window to slip you some fentanyl. You were positive that it was illegal considering it was usually given only with a prescription but to be honest, this wasn’t the best area in town and you doubted the hospital staff paid much attention to anything. Also, you may have exaggerated the level of pain you were in when you begged her for it.

Not to mention you weren’t exactly sure how long certain drugs stay in your system but you were positive you hadn’t been off of them long enough for it to show up completely clean.

Plus you were afraid of needles.

“Uh, can’t you just give me some pain medication for tonight?” You asked, giving him a sheepish smile.

He was writing something down on the sheet before he turned his head to you, shaking his head.

“I think we should make sure it’s nothing more serious, especially since this pain has been going on for days.”

You inwardly cursed.

“But I can give you some ibuprofen right now to help soothe it,” He added, sending you another of those friendly warm smiles and you swore you felt your stomach flutter at the action.

“Ibuprofen?” You repeated. That wouldn’t do. “Do you have something stronger by any chance? Fentanyl maybe?”

He paused what he was writing down.

“Fentanyl?” He repeated with a questioning stare.

“The receptionist lady gave me some last time and it really helped with the pain.” As soon as the words left your mouth you wanted to hurl yourself out the door.

Fuck.

Fuck.

You weren’t supposed to say that, how could you be such an idiot?

“ The receptionist sent you home with Fentanyl?” He raised both his eyebrows at your statement and his eyes instantly hardened.

“U-Uh well actually, I’m not sure if it was that, “ You stumbled over your words, doing a terrible job at saving your and her ass. “ It might have been Tylenol now that I’m remembering.”

He stared at you, his frown deepening.

“Doctor,” You said with a laugh, waving your hands in front of you. “It’s okay, it actually really helped me and it would really help me right now.”

These symptoms were for sure getting worse because you started to feel that damn agitation spike up again, the restless feeling not letting you sit still at all.

“Come on, I won’t tell anyone?” You gave him your best persuasive smile as you leaned forward and stood up from the exam table. “ I promise, I’ll even repay you.”

You gave him a knowing look and he knitted his eyebrows at your words, following the way you traced your finger down your collarbone. You saw the way his eyes travel further down until they reached your cleavage.

His eyes lingered there before they made their way back to your face, a look of understanding washing over his features. You let your hands trace the top of his belt.

“Please?” To others, this scene would have been pathetic, embarrassing even but to you it was simply getting by. Improvising. “ Nobody will know, I can suck your dick real go-“

“Sweetheart,” He cut you off and you saw his jaw clench as he swallowed.

“Don’t do this.” He caught your hand, his strong grip cautiously removing it from his belt. “ You don’t have to do this.”

His pleading tone caught you off guard and it hurt your ego and pride, or whatever was left of it.

“You don’t know me.” You snapped suddenly, fed up that you had wasted all this time coming here just to have to leave with nothing and now this doctor was on his high horse, thinking you deserved better than this.

“You don’t know what it's like,” You continued, unable to hide the emotion in your voice. “ I-I need something, please.”

Another look of realization flashed over his face, his eyes picking you apart. He had suspected it already. It was clear. This was just confirmation.

“I’m begging you, just a little bit.” You grasped his shirt, fingers trembling uncontrollably.

“It hurts,” Your face scrunched up as you let out a sigh of frustration. “ P-please, I need it to get through the night.”

You weren’t sure what your plan was but you didn’t see a wedding ring on his hand and you could only hope he would give into his inappropriate desires. You weren’t stupid, incredibly desperate maybe but not stupid, you saw the way his pupils dilated when he had taken a good look down your shirt.

“Hey, it’s okay it’s okay.” He whispered as he hushed your frantic pleas, coming to grasp your cheeks. “Calm down, I’ll help you.”

Did he mean it?

“Really?” You asked, looking up at him and he nodded, sincerity was clear in his eyes.

“ I-I can still,” You started as glanced down.

You would get what you wanted and a quick hook up with a hot doctor? You couldn’t ask for more.

“W-Wait,” He stopped you again, letting the tips of a smile form in his lips. “ Not yet, I can help you in other ways.”

Other ways?

“What do you mean?”

He sighed, hands coming to grip your shoulders before he ran them down your exposed arms, finally coming to grip your hands and giving them a comforting squeeze.

“Why don’t you take a seat for me, we still need to do these blood tests to see if you’re alright.” He started more sternly, raising an eyebrow towards the exam table. “ I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t move.”

You nodded slowly, stepping back from him and he followed your movements intently, as if he was scared you were about to bolt out the door.

“I’m afraid of needles.” You blurted out as he was turning to leave, he stopped and looked at you with an amused expression as if he had found your comment endearing.

“I’ll be gentle.” He promised before slipping out the door.

If only you believed him.

You waited a few more seconds before your feet hit the floor and you rushed towards the door, you turned the handle slowly, poking your head out. You glanced right and left, the narrow hall was empty and you took your chance.

You moved swiftly through the halls, making a right turn. Was this the way to the exit? You weren’t sure, you couldn’t quite remember the way you had entered. You slowed down your pace when you passed a couple of nurses, luckily they didn’t even give you a second glance as they mingled amongst each other. You passed several rooms, and you almost considered heading towards the elevators but the signs were only confusing you more. Your sneakers squeaked against the tiles as you abruptly stopped, nearly tripping over when you saw a familiar figure coming down the left side of the hallway. You walked backwards and hid yourself behind the wall. Blocking yourself from his view as you pressed yourself up against it.

“The patient in room E4 might have appendicitis, don’t let her check out. She needs a blood test and a scan.” You heard the doctor’s familiar sweet voice but it was anything but sweet in that moment, he sounded furious if anything.

“And I need to speak with the receptionist at the front, I think she gave this patient Fentanyl without a doctor’s authority,” You heard him state harshly and you could hear some of the staff scrambling. “ If that’s the case, she’s fired and might be charged. This patient is a drug addict and she’s having bad withdrawals. She needs to stay overnight to monitor. “

You let out a curse, waiting for him to walk away so you can slip right out of this damn place.

Well, he certainly wouldn’t be much help.

You waited to hear his footsteps disappear down the hall and took a deep breath before you rounded the corner, sighing in relief as you saw the exit sign a few feet away.

“Miss? Excuse me, where are you going?” You heard a female voice behind you and you took a quick look, noticing a nurse start to walk up to you with a suspicious look on her features.

“I’ve been discharged!” You lied through your teeth, giving her a wave.

“Wait! No, I don’t think you have.” She shook her head staring at some files in her hands as she started skipping over to you. “ Dr. Park hasn’t given the order to discharge you yet, you can’t leave! “

You ignored her as you quickened your pace and practically ran out through the automatic doors. You heard her let out a curse behind you and tell another staff member something but you continued running through the parking lot of the hospital until you reached the sidewalks.

Fuck, if that hadn’t been the greatest fail of your life.

——

You stared down at the plastic plate of food, the watery mashed potatoes in corn made you feel even more nauseous. Your head was spinning, you tried to keep your head up and steady yourself but your body was not having it.

This had reminded you that you used to have a deep fear of vomit when you were a little girl and you now weren’t sure if that had fully gone away. You think it had a name, Eto or Emet- something. A phobia of some sort.

“Shit, what’s up with you?” You glared at your friend. The same friend who had kicked you out just two weeks ago from his apartment that had forced you to seek shelter elsewhere and expected you to not be pissed the fuck off at him.

You were sitting down at your usual spot at the local park, against the giant ugly tree that had been here ever since you could remember. Your eyes stared off at the playground that was just a few feet away, the one you used to play at when you were a kid and you would of been sad at the memory of your young self not knowing what kind of future was in store for her if it weren’t for the fact that your brain couldn’t focus on anything else but the horrible pain in your lower stomach.

It was quite a shit start to your day. But most days were shitty so you didn’t know what scale to measure them on anymore.

“What’s up with me?” You stuck your fork harshly against the gross food. “ Nothing, you know, just having the worst pain of my life.”

“Your stomach still fucking you up?” He let out a laugh as he shook his head, the smell of his cigarette hit your nose and you almost gagged.

“Can you put that out? I’m already nauseous.” You bit out, waving your hands in attempts to get rid of the smoke.

He rolled his eyes, letting the cigarette drop from his lips as he crushed it under his shoe.

“Any other day, you would have begged me to give you one so you must really be feeling like shit.”

You didn’t have the energy to respond to his comment as you took a deep breath, cursing as another shot of pain was felt through your insides. You let your fork drop and clutched your stomach.

“Fuck,” You whispered, starting to feel a thin layer of sweat coat your forehead.

“Didn’t you go to the hospital the other day? What did they tell you ?”

“Yunho,” You breathed, slowly letting your eyelids shut. “ Do me a favor?”

He eyed you.

“What?”

“Shut the fuck up.” You swallowed thickly at the feeling of another painful cramp.

Yunho sighed as he bent down and sat next to you, digging inside his old backpack he carried around everywhere to do his little shop lifting and you could not even bother to lift your head up to inspect what he was up to.

You wouldn’t consider Yunho a bad friend per say, but he wasn’t exactly a good one either. It was more like an acquaintance's level of loyalty. He was friendly but if things came down to it, he would always choose himself and his own interests first, not giving it a second thought. You supposed it was admirable, those were the traits you needed in order to get by. You had to look out for yourself and yourself only, wasn’t that what life had taught you since you had been young? You should have learned from that lesson.

As much as you tried to play your tough girl act, you were bluffing. You weren’t nearly as cut throat and independent as you wanted to be or wanted others to see you. You were sure that was due to some trauma but you weren’t a therapist so you weren’t exactly sure where your dependency issues stemmed from. It wasn’t like your mom had ever the dependable type before she passed, she had been far from it.

Not to mention, you didn’t have any other family to seek out. Not any family that you were comfortable with at least. Your father was out of the picture, and your mom didn’t have any siblings as far as you could recall. You were sure she had no contact with your grandparents because if that would have been the case, child services might have sent you to them instead of foster care. You weren’t even sure if they were still alive.

“Fuck,” Yunho sighed loudly next to you, slapping his hand over his forehead. “ I thought I had some Pepto Bismol tablets in here.”

You squint your eyes at him.

“It’s not a stomach flu, you dumbass.” You groaned.

“Better than nothing,” He shrugged. “ Did you already spend your food stamps? We could get some stuff at the pharmacy.”

You shook your head, waving your finger at him.

“I’m not spending my food stamps on some shitty remedies that won’t even work.”

“Well you might want to reconsider because it looks like you’re seconds away from vomiting all over that food of yours.”

You wished he didn’t have to bring up vomit because you instantly felt a wave of nausea hit you and you doubled over, gagging.

“Oh shit!” You heard him curse and you threw up the little food that had been in your stomach, you felt your hair being lifted off your face.

At least he made himself useful for once.

“Oh my god,” You whined in complete agony , wiping your mouth. Maybe you should have rethought before springing out of that hospital a few days ago like a mad woman. So what if they found out you had been on drugs? It wasn’t like they could do anything besides harass you to attend rehab.

You fell back against the tree, not even bothering to move away from the stench of vomit beside you. You were sure you had been running a fever yesterday and now you could start feeling those same shivers run down your body.

“Could it just be the drug withdrawals?” You wondered in an attempt to distract yourself.

“Maybe,” Yunho replied but he gave you an unsure look. “ But what if it’s not?”

“Well, then I’m fucked.” You started to wonder how many people at the social service center would visit your grave because you were sure as hell not getting a funeral with the lack of family and friends you had.

The older woman that served you lunch from time to time at the religious charity center down the street would definitely leave some nice flowers at your grave. Maybe Yunho too, you supposed.

“I think we should just go to the hospital.” Yunho concluded and that concerned you a bit, he was never the worrying type. You really must have looked like death if he was suggesting you go back to that damn place.

“Nah,” You shook your head, not wanting to show your face again after that embarrassing scene you pulled. “ I think it will pass.”

It was as if life was determined to prove you wrong because you felt your vision blur again in that moment and Yunho’s face was spinning right in front of you.

You closed your eyes as you pinched your nose-bridge

“Nah man, you need to go. Like now.” Yunho practically dragged you up and you stumbled over, feeling yourself start to give out already. Your legs had lost all their strength to keep sustaining your body.

“Y/n!” Yunho yelled as he lifted your body up, his voice had become distant all of a sudden, like he was screaming at you through a tunnel.

“Come on, don’t pass out on me now.” He groaned and you felt your legs being lifted before you completely fell into impending darkness.

—-

You weren’t sure if there was an afterlife but you were sure as hell it wasn’t here. You let out a moan of pain, your mouth felt incredibly dry. You could make out the sound of monitors beeping around you and you felt something around your face, connecting to your nose.

The sheets beneath you felt cold and you twitched your fingers in an attempt to wake yourself up from your deep unconsciousness. Your entire head felt heavy and you were struggling to open your eyes. It felt as if your entire body was made out of rags, you felt incredibly weak and lightheaded.

Finally, your eyelids managed to flutter open and you stared up at the blinding light in front of you.

On second thought, maybe this was the afterlife.

“Hello again.” Your eyes traveled to the voice and they fell on the familiar face, your vision struggled a bit to make out his full features but when it finally did. You let out a silent curse.

Of fucking course he was the one here. Out of all the doctors in this hospital.

“You don’t seem too happy to see me.” Dr. Park stated, an unreadable expression on his face and you sighed, trying to lift yourself up a bit.

“Don’t move, you’re still very sore.” He scolded, placing one hand over your arms to stop you.

“Sore?” You questioned with a rasp. You winced, your throat was so dry it hurt to talk.

“You had surgery.” He informed you, bringing a small paper cup to your lips, you greedily welcomed the cold liquid. “Your appendix nearly burst.”

Oh, that was nice.

“The anesthesia should be wearing off by now, you’re on morphine now for the pain.” He added as you swallowed the last bit of your water, his finger came to wipe your lip as a few drops slipped down your chin. Your cheeks warmed at the intimate action.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, eyes not leaving yours but you avoided his intense stare, not knowing if you could handle the embarrassment of being in his presence after he rejected you.

“Um, like shit.” You whispered bluntly.

He grinned but there was no amusement in it , shaking his head at you before a more serious expression took over his face.

“You could have died.” He told you, and you were surprised to see him look at you with such a great amount of concern, he almost looked scared.

“Unfortunately, I didn’t.” You smiled but he didn’t find your comment humorous at all as he frowned at you and you regretted your words as a fearful thought popped into your head.

“I’m not actually suicidal , don’t send me off to the psych ward section, I know some hospitals have those.”

“I’m not sending you anywhere.” He assured you , shaking his head.

“Why did you leave when I told you to wait for me?” He asked quietly, coming to stand closer to you.

You weren’t expecting that question, it didn’t seem appropriate but then you remembered what you had offered him that day had been even less appropriate.

“I-I don’t know, I was scared.” You shrugged, hating how unsure you sounded of yourself. “ I just wanted some pain medication.”

He studied you, seeming to contemplate your words.

“Well, you should have listened to me.” He stated, sounding almost upset. “ Look where it got you.”

You felt like you were a child being reprimanded by a parent and you didn’t know how to feel about it. You felt a bit too drowsy to process this right now.

“Are you mad at me?” You let out a small laugh before wincing, feeling slight pain on your lower right side.

This was definitely karma for trying to outsmart a doctor.

“Do you have any family members that I can call? For when you’re discharged?” He questioned you, ignoring your last comment as he took a look at a folder that was placed on the counter beside him. You took a look around you, this was a rather spacious room and it even had a TV in it.

“No, my mom died when I was young. I don’t have a dad.” You replied, your eyes still looking around the room.

“No siblings?” There it was again, that same emotion you couldn’t figure out. It wasn’t judgment, pity maybe?

“Nope.”

“How about that guy that came with you?” You glanced over at him as he watched you expectantly.

“What gu- Oh! No, that’s just a friend.” You wondered where the hell Yunho was now.

Dr. Park tilted his head at that.

“A friend?” He repeated, not looking like he believed you and you wondered why it even mattered.

“Yeah, where is he by the way?”

“Your friend left as soon as he could, he dropped you off here like some wounded stray animal and practically ran out the door.” He said, sounding irritated and now you understood the judging look he gave you. That didn’t sound like something a good friend would do.

“He’s not a big fan of hospitals.” You defended poorly, not wanting to admit the slight sting at how Yunho had really left you here before he could even make sure you were going to be okay and not die.

It was very on brand for him so you couldn’t hold it against him, you wondered why you would ever hold him to a higher standard.

Dr. Park looked even more irritated by the pathetic excuse you had made for your so-called friend, looking like he was tempted to roll his eyes at you.

“You should rest, you’ve had a long day.” He said, coming closer as he readjusted your nasal cannula, you felt your heart race at his fingers grazing the bottom of your cheeks and you saw the slightest bit of a smirk form on his lips. He ducked down, his mouth beside your ear.

“Just so you know, my offer still stands sweetheart. I hope yours does too.” He whispered slowly before he turned, making his way out of the room.

—-

You weren’t sure why the TV was only playing children's movies as you were pretty sure you were not anywhere near the children section of the hospital but you didn’t really mind.

At first.

Now that you had watched Tangled a good ten times, you were ready to throw something at the screen.

You were arguably feeling a lot better, you had spent the night pretty peacefully and honestly, this hospital bed was the most comfortable thing you have slept on in months. The monitors and IV on your arm were a little uncomfortable but you weren’t about to get picky about that because you were sure it was the only thing keeping you from passing out.

The nurse had mentioned you had been extremely dehydrated when you had come in and that explained a lot, you had not been eating or drinking enough liquids the past few days, too hung up on the pain that you had been feeling. While hospital food was deeply frowned and hated upon, surprisingly it wasn’t as bad as you thought it was going to be. The jello cups were your favorite for some reason.

“Your blood pressure is normal.” The nurse beside you said as she took off the cuff from your arm, writing it down on a whiteboard that hung against the wall beside your bed.

“Is my stomach supposed to be this swollen?” Your fingers lightly pressed on the lower right side, feeling the prominent bump over the thin hospital gown.

“Yep,” She replied, not even glancing back at you as she continued to write some more stuff on the whiteboard. “ I can give you some ibuprofen, it will help with the inflammation.”

You were testing the waters.

“Actually,” You started with an overly high pitched tone. “ Do you happen to have anything s-“

“Stronger? No, sorry. You’re not allowed to take anything other than ibuprofen.” She set the marker down and gave you a pitied look. “Doctor’s orders.”

You figured.

It was worth a shot.

You gave her a forced smile as she exited the room and sighed as you continued to eat the red colored jello. You wondered how much longer you would be in here, you were starting to feel a bit restless again. You didn’t like feeling so immobilized.

You chewed on the sweet dessert as your mind wandered off to the place you had been avoiding the entire day.

My offer still stands sweetheart.

Had you heard him right? Or had you been high off the anesthesia that your mind was straight up being delusional and making up scenarios? But no, you had to have heard him right. You remembered his words clear as day, he had said that.

You didn’t know what to make of it. On one hand, you knew it was immensely inappropriate but when were you ever the one to judge? You were the last person to judge and besides, this was a doctor. He surely was well off, it was in your best interest to accept his offer, wasn’t it ? Sure, he may not give you what you were actually looking for but he could give you money. Or anything valuable enough for you to sell and get something out of it.

Another part of you wondered why he had taken interest in you but you didn’t really ponder over that too much. Doctors had weird kinks, maybe fucking one of his patient’s was one of his many fantasies.

The knock on the door made you straighten up and you watched it open, Dr. Park walked in looking as put together as ever and you sort of envied his effortlessly good appearance.

“How are you feeling?” He smiled at you, examining your state. He seemed to be in a far better mood today.

“Could be better if this TV would play anything other than the same Disney movie.” You replied, pointing at the screen with your plastic spoon.

He let out a chuckle as he glanced towards it.

“Not a fan of Disney movies?”

“They remind me of the childhood I never had.” You sighed sarcastically , although there was a bit of truth to that joke.

He poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he nodded at your words.

“Seems like your blood pressure is good.” He stated as he took a look at the whiteboard. “Are you enjoying the hospital food?”

You shrug.

“It’s better than I thought,” He eyes your tray and gives you a questioning gaze.

“You should eat more than that, I can tell the nurse to get you something else.” You eye the half eaten food and shake your head.

“It’s alright, I don’t have much of an appetite right now.” You say honestly. “ I like the jello though.”

He smiles at that.

“I see, but still I’d feel better if you ate more. You need it if you want a speedy recovery.” He insists and you don’t argue with him, figuring there wasn’t much you could say to that. He was in fact the doctor and you did want to get out of here already.

“When do you think I can leave?” You asked as he takes off the stethoscope around his neck and puts the ear tips on, pressing the bell over your chest. You breathe steadily as you watch him focus on your pulse, eyebrows furrowing in concentration.

“Tomorrow probably,” He replied as pulls his hand away and put the stethoscope back around his neck. “You may need someone to pick you up.”

As if.

“It’s alright, I don’t feel sore at all anymore.” You assured , dismissing his comment.“ Plus, nobody at the center would come pick me up.”

“Center?” He questions as confusion settles on his face.

Right, you still have to explain your situation.

“Social services center.” You clarified, hoping he understood what you were implying. He stared at you for a second and seemed to quickly grasp your situation.

“Ah, right.” He nodded before he walked over to the whiteboard and began to write something down. “Have you thought about what I said?”

Oh, have you ever.

You bit your lip as your eyes fell on his slender fingers, the red colored marker squeaking against the whiteboard, writing medical terms you could not begin to comprehend.

“Yeah,” You swallowed, a small smile playing on your lips. “ But what exactly is in it for me?”

He seemed to notice your playful tone and briefly halts his actions, placing the marker back down as he turns to face you. That same smirk from earlier teases his lips.

“Anything you want, I could help you with your situation.” He doesn’t break eye contact as the tempting words leave his lips but you wonder what exactly he means by situation. Was he referring to your economical state or your drug addiction? If it was the latter, you had no intention in his offer to help you.

It must have been that he was a doctor. Didn’t these people have the biggest savior complex? After all, they dedicated their entire lives to help and save people. But you weren’t interested in being saved, you just wanted to feel okay, to feel good again. And only one thing gave you that feeling now.

“Hm, I don’t know..” You sighed as you pretended to think over his offer. Realistically, even if he did intend on sending you to rehab, you could still get something out of him. He seemed to be too empathic towards you, you could work your way around it, couldn’t you? If you could guilt trip him enough to spare you enough cash, you wouldn’t even have to see him again after that little hook up. You wouldn’t have to see any disappointment towards you.

“How about we discuss it over at my place?” He offers you in a low tone, and the look he was giving you was different from any of the ones he’d displayed before. This look was provocative and you hated how attractive he was, you watched as he closed the space between you two. His face lowering down to yours, his finger coming to caress your cheek.

“Your place?” Well, that did sound inviting. He gave you a single nod, full lips tilting upwards when he noticed your expression, he knew you were giving in.

“You’re my favorite patient, you know?” His eyes trailing down your mouth and you almost snorted at his words.

“I highly doubt that.” He simply smirks in response, pulling his hand away and takes something out of his front pocket of his shirt. It’s a small white card and he hands it over to you, your pointer finger that still had the pulse oximeter attached to it brushes over it.

Dr. Jimin Park

Your eyes glossed over the words, the card had all his contact information on it.

“Call me after you’ve been discharged. I’ll come get you, no matter where you are.” He said as you feel his fingers grasp your chin gently, forcing your gaze to leave the card and meet his dark eyes. “ Promise me you will.”

His tone was unrelenting as his eyes continued to deeply stare at you.

“I promise,” You lazily grin, staring back down at the card. “ You’re too nice for your own good, doc.”

He seems more than relieved by your words, his demeanor immediately relaxing, no longer tensely awaiting your answer.

“It’s my job to take care of you.” He matches your grin, displaying his perfect white teeth and that same damn charming smile that makes his eyes twinkle.

—-

The smell of the hot waffles hit your nostrils and you just about climbed over the metal cafeteria counter. It was rare when the breakfast was good in these places but the religious charity center was feeling generous today. After being discharged from the hospital a day ago, you had been feeling more like your usual self and thankfully your appetite had gotten better. You were still slightly sore but nothing major, it wasn’t like you participated in any hard labor anyway.

The downside was, now that you didn’t have that consistent shooting pain in your stomach to distract you, all your mind was on one thing. The withdrawal symptoms continued and you were feeling more paranoid than usual, your body was back to feeling on edge and you didn’t know how much longer you could take without getting at least a taste to soothe your desperation.

“Well, don’t you look better.” The older woman told you as she handed you your tray , giving you one her usual heartfelt smiles that lightened up her wrinkled face.

“Feeling better.” Sort of. You took the tray, grabbing one of the maple syrup packets from the plastic cupboard on the side.

You were about to turn away and make your way to one of the tables when you heard her call out behind you.

“Sweetie!” You faced her, slowly making your way back to an open wide counter that was filled with hundreds of the same plastic plates. Countless of people bumped into you, harshly shoving you away when you got in their way and you moved to the corner.

“I wanted to tell you that there’s this job offer here, we are short staffed and I think it would be good for you to apply.” She told you, leaning over the counter so you could hear her better over all the chattering around you. Bless her soul. She had great faith in you, too bad you didn’t have any for yourself.

“Uh, I don’t know.” You say hesitantly as if you were giving it a thought but you knew you didn’t have any plans to look into her offer.

“The pay isn’t that good, I won’t lie but it won’t hurt to start somewhere.” She explained her habit of talking with her hands so your eyes immediately followed the movements of her gloved hands. “ I can give you a recommendation, the job is pretty easy. Just preparing meals and unpacking the frozen ones.”

“I’ll think about it.” You lied, not having the heart to admit you weren’t interested.

She stared at you before nodding and giving you another smile.

“I just don’t want to see such a young pretty girl like you suffer like this,” She shook her as she sighed. “ There’s a lot of creeps around here and you need to be careful not to involve yourself with the wrong people.”

You were doing a pretty good job at protecting yourself or so you thought. I mean, most of it was just luck. You knew there wasn’t a true way to protect yourself in the conditions you lived in, there was always a great risk but you would figure it would. You didn’t have any other choice.

“I know, don’t worry.” You gave her a thumbs up but her concerned expression didn’t falter as you turned to leave, swiftly walking over to an open seat on the long tables.

You should have been thankful, glad that someone bothered to show you any concern for your well-being but for some reason, it only soured your mood. It was strange, you knew this was your fault but at the same time it wasn’t. I mean, weren’t you just a product of your environment? And that environment had been toxic and abusive, nothing good was bound to come out of it. Still, you couldn’t help and feel sorry for yourself, if you had a better self control you maybe would have managed to get your life more put together.

“Look at you, all better huh?” Your mouth was full of food as you looked up at Yunho waltzing in, taking a seat in front of you. He held a single carton of orange juice in his hands as he adjusted his beanie over his dark short hair.

“Like you give a shit.” You say as you finish swallowing your food. It was stupid to be angry at him, none of it mattered, you knew this was how he was but for some reason it still hurt.

You watched as he took a sip of his juice, not seeming at all phased by your comment.

“I took you to the hospital, you should be thanking me.” It was a shame he hadn’t ever learned to shut up, he had the same big mouth as always.

“Thank you? You left me there without even waiting to see if I was going to be okay or die.”

“Chill, I told you before I hate hospitals. Besides, I even went back to drop off your bag of clothes.” His words were only putting you in a worse mood, did he really think what he did was enough? Did he really care so little for you to not even stick around to see if you died or not?

You knew the answer and it wasn’t the one you wanted. But wasn’t this the way it had always been? Why were you suddenly feeling so bitter over it now? You knew you couldn’t expect much from this friendship, despite the few years of knowing him, there was no solid attachment to you. Maybe it was time you realized how alone you were.

“How very kind of you.” You said dryly, glaring at him. He let out a whistle at your reaction.

“Damn, what did they give you at that hospital that’s got you in such a shitty mood?”

Well it’s not like you  bothered in asking them, you thought.

“You know what? You’re right, I’m tripping.” You shrug, suddenly lifting yourself off the table and throwing your small backpack on. The food was long forgotten. “ And since I don’t really have much to offer you anymore, I think you should just leave me alone. We should go our separate ways.”

You didn’t even bother to see what his reaction was to your words as you turned to leave, you knew his expression would be underwhelming. Yunho didn’t care about anyone but himself, your friendship, if you could even call it that, was disposable as everything else in his life.

You sighed as you pushed the doors of the building open, heading down towards the street. You felt around your back pocket, thanking your lucky stars as you felt the familiar material and took it out. You crossed the sidewalk, skipping down towards the familiar payphone that stood at the tone of the street. You dug inside your backpack for loose change, quickly inserting the coins. The phone was pressed tightly against your ear as you dialed the numbers on the card. It rang for a few seconds before a familiar voice greeted you.

“Hello?” His voice sounded deeper and you couldn’t hear any noise in the background so you only assumed he wasn’t on his shift at the hospital.

“Dr. Park?”

—-

The car had pulled up almost immediately after you hung up and you didn’t think twice before climbing inside. His car smelt nice , that new clean car type of smell. He had asked you why you hadn’t called him right away after being discharged but you gave him the excuse of not having a phone and not having enough money until now for the payphone. He had seemed rather guilty at that, seeming to blame himself for not even thinking about how you had no ways of contacting him. You assured him it was fine but he continued to pester you, asking how you were and if you had eaten enough today.

“Calm down, it’s only been a day since I left the hospital. “ You eyed the way his hand gripped the steering wheel. A silver watch decorated his wrist and it looked expensive.

“I think you should still be resting, it wasn’t a major surgery but you still may feel weak.” He explained all his medical talk as you stared out the window, you were driving through a more out in the open area of the small town and it was a private neighborhood. Your jaw slightly hung as you noticed all the nice houses you were driving by, the area was huge. It even had its own private park , you stared off at the high hills. The wealthy really did live well .

“Wow,” You mumbled as he continued to drive further through the area. He headed towards the top of a hill, the swerving road made you slightly anxious as you were going pretty fast but he didn’t seem phased, his one hand turning the wheel towards the left as he pulled up a driveway. He had a gate surrounding his house and you watched as he slid down his window, swiftly punching in a code before the automatic gates opened.

These residential areas were for sure reserved for the most wealthy in this town, you didn’t even know this place existed. The houses were also insanely spaced out and you were sure his neighbors were not visible until who knew how many more streets down.

You really did need to make this hookup worth it if you were planning on getting something good out of it.

Your eyes widened as he pulled into his garage, the house was to die for. The vintage brick style of it seemed foreign , like it was some type of European design. The garden at the front gave the house an even more pleasing aesthetic, the brightly colored vases holding all types of exotic plants were gorgeous and seemed to match the appeal of the home.

He turned off his engine, unbuckling his seatbelt before he helped you with yours as it slightly had gotten caught.

“Your house is nice,” You commented as you gave him a suggestive smile, hands coming down to gently grip his thighs through the material of his pants. You felt his demeanor shift, a darker look settling on his face as you saw his jaw clenched at your actions.

“My offer still stands too by the way.” You whispered, leaning over as you brought your mouth over to him. Your lips gently kissed him, trying to feel him out but it didn’t take long at all for him to reciprocate and take over, you felt his hand grip your arm, pulling you closer as you felt his tongue slip in.

The sounds of your heated make-out session was all that could be heard in the silence of the car and you heard him groan in disapproval when you pulled away to unbuckle his belt , he let out a breath as your hands worked to unzip his pants in messy movements.

You felt his hardness through the material and you heard him sigh as you pulled the hems of his boxers down, revealing his throbbing length. It dripped of precum and your fingers wrapped around it as you felt him connected your mouth back hungrily. You moaned against him, feeling your own arousal start to form. You pulled away, lowering your head as you licked the tip of his cock teasingly, tasting the saltiness of the precum.

“Sweetheart,” He hissed, letting out a breath as you felt his fingers curl against your hair, his thighs twitched underneath you.

You licked your way down as your fingers were still around the base of his cock, you trailed kisses all the way down and the wetness of your tongue mixed with your slow movements made him groan. You could tell he was trying so hard not to move his hips and that only caused him to tense up more. You took the tip into your mouth and started to bob your head down as your one hand gripped his hard thighs while the other worked on the rest of his length your mouth could not take.

“Ahh, fuck..” He grunted above you and you felt him tug your hair tighter. “Your mouth feels so good, sweetheart.”

This only encouraged you more as you continued your movements, humming against his length and swirling your tongue around it. The breathy sounds of his moans filled your ears and you began to suck, feeling his legs spread out wider against the confined space.

“Just like that,” He urged you, letting out another curse as he moaned. He pushed your head down more and you felt yourself slightly gag and that only earned another deep grunt from him. His cock wet with saliva now as your hands massaged him.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna come.” He warned you softly as you kept moving your lips around. His muscles flexed under your hand and hissed.

“F-Fuck!” He moaned loudly as he bucked his hips and the hot liquid came into your mouth, some of his semen spilled from the sides of your mouth but you continued to suck on him as his breaths slowed down. His hand still gripped your hair as you felt his muscles relax beneath you. Your tongue sucked on the last of his come and you swallowed the liquid, slowly lifting up your head.

He looked in complete bliss, his half lidded eyes staring at you, pupils completely blown out as pure lust filled his gaze. His hands gently came to pull the strands of hair out of your face, gripping your chin towards him.

“You’re such a good girl, you know that?” He rasped, thumb coming over to wipe the remains of himself off your swollen lips. You gave him a smile, glancing down at the complete mess you’ve made.

He leaned back up and reached his arm across you, opening up the glove compartment as he took out some tissues and handed you one.

“I need to clean up, let’s go inside.” He says with a lazy grin as you nod, you watch as gathers himself before he steps out. He makes his way over to your side and opens the passenger door for you , you thank him as you follow him inside the house.

You couldn’t believe what you had just done. Did you really just give head to your rich doctor in his convertible? Maybe your life was starting to take a turn for the best. Now, it would really be lucky if he decided to repay you and take pity on your situation. You hoped you had persuaded him enough to lend you something, anything that would allow you to gain what you most craved again.

You held in a gasp as you entered the house, it was indeed what you imagined any rich house to look like. The first thing you noticed was the tall ceiling, you hadn’t ever been inside a home with a ceiling that tall. Your eyes traveled over to the spacious living room, the luxurious looking black leather couches gave it a modern feel. You caught a glimpse of the flat screen TV on the wall that stretched out surprisingly far and the glass windows allowed the natural sunlight to illuminate the space.

“I’ll be right back, you can take a seat sweetheart.” You watched as he strides down his long hallway, disappearing into one of the rooms. You assumed the restroom. You make your way over to one of the large coaches that look far too expensive for you to be sitting on but you do anyway. You set your backpack down on the floor as you take in more of your surroundings.

You crane your neck, taking a look down another smaller hallway to your right side. You raise an eyebrow, glancing back towards the way Dr. Park had left and your curiosity gets the best of you. Well, more like your restlessness gets the best of you. Your legs bounce as you contemplate the idea in your head and you sigh, lifting yourself off the soft coach as you make your way towards the more narrow hallway.

Your steps are slow and cautious, your nosey self unable to contain yourself as you take in all the frames on the walls. They weren’t family frames but paintings of artists you had no clue of but you could only imagine how much they were worth.

Were you really thinking of robbing your doctor? Of course not but the thought was very tempting. It wasn’t like he would notice anything small and insignificant missing, you doubted wealthy people paid that much attention to the things in their home. It was all mainly for show.

You continued your way down the hall, raising your eyebrows as you saw a staircase leading downwards. You took a good look at it, there was a door at the bottom and it was pretty dark and steep down there, it must have been some sort of basement.

“Hm,” You knitted your eyebrows, the door didn’t look like any of the rest in the house, there were a lot of locks on it and you wondered why that would be the case. Maybe he kept his most valuable things down there.

Your fingers gripped the wooden railing as you slowly stepped down the stairs until you finally reached the bottom and walked over to the door. You glanced behind you before you pulled on the handle, peeking your head inside. It was pitch dark and you used your other hand to feel around the wall next to you for a light switch, scoffing when you easily found it and pressed on it.

The light revealed a rather large room with a bed in the corner, nothing like you were expecting. You were prepared to see some fancy basement with all types of storage boxes. You turned, seeing a bunch of medical equipment on the side of the room, nothing out of the ordinary for a doctor, you supposed.

But as you stepped closer , you noticed something on the bottom of the bed.

Were those chains?

They were connected to a pair of handcuffs on the bed, but they weren’t regular types of handcuffs. These were a lot thicker, like shackles. 

You tilted your head, was your doctor into some extreme BDSM or something? But that’s when you also noticed the window frames of the room had been boarded up with large pieces of wood. You frowned a bit, an unusual feeling taking over you.

It looked strange and you didn’t like it at all, your fight or flight had been triggered at the sight and you slowly took a step back.

You needed to get out of here, something was off.

“You weren’t supposed to see that yet, sweetheart.” You let out a shriek at the sudden voice and whipped your head around. Dr. Park stood right outside the door and you gulped, feeling your heart rate pick up at the sight of his abrupt presence. 

“W-What’s all this for?” You asked, your nerves were betraying you because you attempted to sound casual about it but your voice had been far too shaky and your lips trembled. He sighed as he took a step forward.

“I told you to wait in the living room for me.” You ignored his words as you took a look around, he was blocking your exit. You took another cautious step backwards.

What the hell was going on?

“Doctor,” You started, a nervous smile playing on your lips but he didn’t budge, his face remained stoic. Was he playing some prank on you?

“We should head back into the living room then.” You offered but you watched as he fully entered the room, the heel of his shoe kicking the door closed behind him and you flinched slightly.

“First, I need you to calm down.” He stated as he slowly approached you, he was coming at you like you were some sort of wild animal, eyeing you carefully.

“What’s going on?” You demanded as you continued to walk backwards, you panicked when you realized you were about to back up against the wall behind you. You hesitated for a bit, wrong move. Before you could even attempt to run past him, he quickly closed the space between you two and caught your arms, pushing you back.

“Y/n! Please, calm down!” He ordered, raising his voice as you struggled against his grip. For having such a lean figure, he was strong.

“What the fuck is going on! Let me go!” You cried out but his grip didn’t budge at all , you were still far too weak from the surgery you had and your attempts were pathetic against him.

“You’re not going anywhere.” He snapped, and it was like a mask was coming off at that moment. You hadn’t ever heard him use that tone before and you saw his eyes harden.

What?

“What are you talking about!? Are you crazy! What is this place?!” You yelled in his face and he shut his eyes, as if he was dealing with a disobedient toddler.

“This place is your new home.” He stated, gripping your arms and holding them against the wall above your head, trapping you. “ At least until I can trust you enough to roam the rest of the house.”

You stared at him in complete confusion, a sick feeling settling in your stomach at what he was implying.

“What?” You whispered, knitting your eyebrows as you shook your head. “You can’t do this! I-I need to leave-“

“And go where? You have no real home.” He gave you a perplexed expression as he tilted his head and met your teary gaze. “ Nobody is waiting for you out there.”

He was insane. Completely insane.

“This is kidnapping! The police wil-“

“The police will do what?” He taunted, clicking his tongue as he neared his face closer to yours and you flinched back. “ Look for you? Who will file the missing person report? Huh? That little friend of yours? Don’t be so gullible, sweetheart.”

Your stomach dropped at his words. You shook your head, tears instantly staining your cheeks. No. Yunho would notice you were missing, he had to. There was no way he wouldn’t notice something was off.

But then you remembered your last words to him, what you had told him before you had stormed out. You shut your eyes in frustration.

No.

He definitely wouldn’t care that you went missing, much less file a report. Yunho wouldn’t go near a police station if he was smart, knowing his record.

“Don’t look so sad.” He frowned, feigning concern as he tapped his fingers against your cheek. “I care for you, and I’ll give everything you will ever need.”

You let out a whimper as anger bubbled up inside you.

“Why are you doing this! Aren’t you a doctor? Aren’t you afraid of what will happen if they find out you have a person held hostage?” You reasoned , widening your eyes at him. “ You will ruin your whole career! You will go to jail!”

He seemed unaffected by your words as he gripped your wrists tighter.

“Do I need to repeat myself? Nobody will ever know you’re here, I hate to break it to you sweetheart but your life choices have made you the perfect victim.” He whispered lowly to you, eyes glaring right at you. “ Which is exactly why you need me, I can’t have you go running back to poison yourself with that shit.”

You could feel your heartbeat against your rib cage, you were starting to feel lightheaded.

This had to be some type of sick nightmare.

“Didn’t you say it yourself? You have no family, no real friends.” He added, shaking his head as he stared down at you in the most disapproving manner. “This is your new home now.”

You wanted to smack yourself as you recalled all those times he had asked you about your family background back at the hospital, how he seemed so kind and concerned for your well-being. How you thought you could come in here and guilt trip this overly generous doctor you thought had no possible ill intentions for you.

You had been a complete dumbass.

“P-please, no don’t do this.” You cried as you pulled against his grip again, putting all your strength into it. “ You need to let me go.”

“Why can’t you see I’m just trying to help you? Sweetheart, you need my help.” He insisted and you felt rage come over you.

You pushed against him again, coming to bite the side of his wrist in an attempt for him to release his grip on you. The action caused him to let out a curse and hiss.

“Shit!” You went to bite him again but he took his other hand and gripped the back of your neck, pulling you off the wall. You had only seemed to anger him because his movements were much rougher this time and he wrapped his arms around you, your back coming to hit his chest.

“Fine, I didn’t want to do this but you’re not cooperating with me.” You hear him say and you feel him shuffle behind you as you continue to struggle against him. You turn your neck in an attempt to see what he’s doing and you let out a cry when you notice a syringe in his right hand.

“No! Please!” Your body writhed against him as his thumb took the protective plastic off the needle and he pulled you more up against him to position the needle towards your neck.

“Calm down, it’s only a sedative.” He informs you as if that is meant to make you feel any better and you sob harder, shaking your head rapidly. “ You’ll only feel a pinch.”

You shut your eyes as he injects the needle into you, feeling pain shoot towards your neck before you instantly feel the entire room start to spin. You feel his grip on you relax as your body starts to give out against him and he holds you up, shushing your whines as he runs his hands against your hair.

“Shh sweetheart, it’s okay it’s okay” You hear him say softly in that same sweet tone of his. “Don’t worry it will all be over soon.”

Your entire vision goes black.

__