#i just need to reschedule because you canceled my fucking appointment why do I have to go through automated hell

[iii-of-ender]

they really made scheduling doctors appointments the hardest thing you’ll never do

[robinruns]

What a day. Oof.

(editing Robin here, this got long, sticking it under a cut)

I couldn't get up to get a workout in... or make lunch for myself... or breakfast. I did pack my gym bag with the intention of going to the gym after work because it is both hot (summer) and the air quality is garbage (Canada blowing smoke on us). First hour of work was literally one of the most excruciatingly boring meetings I've had to sit through. We got a massive software update and it will taking used to since so many things are just like second nature to me. There are lots of bugs still that kinda make me question why they weren't sorted out in the literal years this has been in development. It's gonna be even more of a cluster fuck tomorrow I think because we have to do the end of the month work. Oh and the fuckin window washers were there so I think I lost a solid hour and a half right off the top this morning. Ugh.

Not having a lunch meant I had to go to the grocery store for lunch. Going to the grocery store meant going out in the gross haze, and then of course, bad choices were made. Bad choices that involve getting a big bag of chocolates and then eating like 90% of it, so my therapist will be hearing about that on... whatever fuckin day I have therapy again. Next Thursday? I dunno. I had to cancel my appointment this week because I had to take my car to the mechanic. Then karma came around and I got my massage appointment (that was supposed to be this afternoon) canceled on me. Whatever. It's not like it wasn't already rescheduled once.

So with a gut full of chocolate, almonds, and bad choices, I went home instead of the gym. Well not directly home, I stopped off at the library and got the book I placed on hold last week. I dunno how long I have it for though. Whoops. My mom says the shortest time that you can have a book checked out is typically 2 weeks, so I'm gonna try to have it done in two weeks.

With all the commotion this morning I completely forgot about Frank's reverb sale until about 10:30 and of course like everything was gone. Oh well. I did get the We Didn't Start the Fire (1989-2023) (Fall Out Boy's Version) (from the Vault) 7" vinyl though. And the Benadryl Subreddit 7" from LS Dunes as well the other day. And new Taking Back Sunday is coming on Friday. Small glimmers of hope on the horizon.

I just feel mentally and emotionally spent this week and we're only halfway through. Tumblr hasn't been the refuge it sometimes is, so I deleted the app from my phone with the intention of just clearing my head from it for a while. I get notifs of asks and I'm like "Oh great, what method of suicide will the anons be suggesting now? Will they be creative this time, or go with an old standby?" Fun times.

I lowkey (highkey) hate that I'm hungry right now. Like I know mentally that I have had a disgusting and inappropriate amount of food this afternoon, but sadly chocolates are not filling. The self loathing is high. The desire to do something desperate is high. The knowledge that my clothes won't fit well is weighing (ha) down on me like crazy and it just makes me panic and again, makes me want to overcorrect in the other direction. How did I end up on the mailing list for 75 Hard? Probably another time like this. But maybe it's what I need? But do they account for dangerously hazardous weather with their outdoor workout requirement? Like? I get the idea of getting out in the rain or cold, but like wildfire smoke? Eh.

So the last few days have not been fun. Could be worse (NOT A SUGGETSION UNIVERSE), but sure as hell could be better.

[mathsbian]

I weighed myself again this morning. I’m 7 pounds under what I was when I started seeing a GP again.

I was already feeling down on myself last night because I felt it was necessary to reschedule a meeting with my case manager for today to try to get in contact with my credit card company. And then feeling sick this morning and having another instance of urinary urgency and finding out I’m losing weight again and am even worse than before? Fuck!!

So I’m very weird today. Haven’t gotten out of bed yet other than trips to the toilet. Really, really didn’t want to go to therapy but like. I know logically that is when I need therapy most so I was going to force myself to do that at least. But then my therapist canceled the appointment instead. I could email him about how I’m feeling, but reaching out when I feel like this is so difficult. If I even manage to post this instead of deleting it, it’s a miracle.

I should get out of bed. But I don’t want to. I don’t want to possibly have to interact even just briefly with the roommate who is home right now. My partner is out on an errand for a little longer. But even if they were here to be a buffer I still don’t want to be seen today. I feel awful. I haven’t been crying much but I feel like I must look like I have been. I just very much do not want to exist today thank you, why do I have to have a body that requires things like food and a toilet and water? And god, my fucking medication. I take 5-6 pills every day currently and it’s only going to go up from here.

Why can’t I just. Know what’s wrong? Why am I losing so much weight? What do I need to do to make it stop? I’m so bony that I can’t even comfortably lay on my side anymore because my knees hurt to be stacked on top of each other and if I don’t stack my knees my hips and spine hurt from my back not being straight. And I feel awful even complaining about being skinny on here but like. It’s negatively affecting my QoL, so I’m gonna complain about it. And it’s scary! I’ve lost almost another 10% of my body weight in like 6 weeks! I don’t understand how, because I’ve definitely been eating better with the holidays happening!

And I still have to call the Patient Care Coordinator back about how the surgery referral hasn’t resulted in any kind of appointment yet. The ganglion cyst on my wrist is starting to cause me pain more frequently.

(Very open to suggestions about things I should be asking my doctor to look for at my physical in a couple of weeks, so if you see this and think “hey that sounds like what I/this person I know was dealing with maybe this blogger should ask their doctor to do this test” please leave a reply)

[nokingsonlyfooles]

Eyes, Internets, etc.

Okay! I successfully ate in the Denny's without sunglasses today! Our nearest Denny's has, like, spotlights on every table. It has been really painful to eat in restaurants like that, and shop, but I am getting better.

It's still not super comfortable for me to read. I'm not a fan of my surgery results thus far, but a big part of that is I'm not getting much aftercare. "Will my eyes improve to the point that I can once again look over and read my spouse's computer screen, a social interaction I value a great deal?" I wonder. "Your appointment has been cancelled due to unforeseen circumstances, please reschedule it," says the eye doctor. This is the one local person I've found who specializes in binocular vision dysfunction, whom I contacted after self-diagnosing. Nobody else had any idea why I was sick and in pain.

I'm an individual. I went into this with an obvious unique issue (my left eye impairs my binocular vision) and a bunch more less obvious (autistic, problems healing, multiple chronic health issues, etc) only some of which these people bothered to ask me about and then, like usual, they forget all this information and treat me like the default. "Hey, these eye drops don't work!" *crickets* "Yep, okay, back to doing my own research and buying shit off Amazon in case it helps."

But, I am improving. Me and my arsenal of OTC products which may or may not be helping but I'm getting real sick of my eyes not working so I'm throwing everything at the wall to see if it sticks. I'm going to try to get back to the feed and the social interaction. I've tried before and it hasn't been any fun, but now I can eat in the Denny's so we'll see.

The world moves on and stuff's been happening during my extended hiatus. Just to tick off two major things I would've written way more about: There is no justification for genocide, and wow, I gave money to con-artist and plagiarist James Somerton. One of these things is VASTLY more important than the other, but I have less of a personal stake in freeing Palestine. I think I've done all I can to back away from my country of origin and its propensity for letting a little ethnic cleaning slide when it's politically feasible. But I could've done better research on my donations.

I haven't been fucking READING much for the past couple years. Not, you know, books. It's been taking more effort for me to read books, even though I'm still probably reading just as much across various websites (and my own writing and editing). Well, it's still an effort, and I don't know if that's going to change much. Because, once again, I believed people when they said something would be easy to fix and improve my quality of life. I'm sure it's been easy for them, but it's never easy for me. Jury's still out on my "quality of life," which everyone is always very concerned with until it requires some extra effort on their part.

It might still be fine. It just won't be because doctors pay attention and care about me. It'll be because people generally heal and are fine. You can get away with a lot when human bodies are fairly resilient.

Last week, when I needed a refill on some goddamn heartburn medication that a gastroenterologist said I ought to take for the rest of my life to reduce my risk of developing cancer, my family doctor threatened to withhold it because... I haven't been in for a while. I've been back to the specialists I had to beg him to send me to, multiple times, and he has access to my records (and somehow missed my most recent blood work) but apparently he needs to talk to me about...?? I don't even know what, but I bet he'll tell me to take more herbs. ...If he doesn't altogether say he didn't want me to make a phone appointment, he wanted me to come sit in his office and deal with the lights and noise for some reason. We'll see.

I can't... There's not even a word for it, but I can't divest myself of this person and stop him from viewing my records and violating my privacy. Leaving your family doctor in order to not have one is not a thing Canada allows. Obviously, you want a family doctor! Especially if the only alternative is not having one at all! You need one! That may be the case, but this one is kinda low-key trying to kill me and there aren't any others. I would rather have a clinic OKing my prescriptions and sending me to specialists. At least they wouldn't pull bullshit like cutting off my heartburn meds because they might want an update on my thyroid which they should not require me to give them. Or, you know, if they did, I could at least go to another clinic.

This guy can't even remember how to pronounce my name. He's clearly reading it off a piece of paper every time. If and when I change my name and gender officially, I hope it either bothers him so much he fires me as a patient, or it kills him. Those are kinda my only options for getting rid of him. Wow. I'm praying for a guy's death and it's not even one of the ones doing the genocide - man, I'm selfish.

Oh well. This'll be another stressful week with more medical stuff, some of it unnecessary, but maybe I can get back to the feed tomorrow. And maybe I'll be able to draw without making myself sick soon. This too shall pass. I dunno if I'm gonna like where I end up after it passes, but it will pass.

Then I'll have a whole new thing to deal with.

[bishiglomper]

Our friend who we were supposed to visit and exchange holiday gifts and shit with cancelled. Like. Over a month ago.

Today she called and was like "can i drop your stuff off??" Like bitch what happened to visiting? When she cancelled i asked if she wanted to reschedule but she said no. They she still wouldn't feel good by then. So I've just been waiting for any news. Like instead of throwing shit at us lets try to do the friend thing. Because so far we only get together once or twice a year at a restaurant.

Like i know we invited you because it was right after inspection and the house was good. Its not anywhere near as good but its good enough we can invite non judgy friends in.

So i invited her for tomorrow which is probably not enough time to acclimate my sister to the idea but she hasnt been home to ask, so..

She has her project all over the dining room table so that's a no-go. And she barely knows what we're doing for dinner tonight let alone tomorrow but hopefully she wont kill me. I thought we could do something snacky we could nosh on the couch. Food should be the only "omg wtf are we gonna do" problem

I thought if we picked up the living room that'd be good enough. So I tried picking up. The biggest problem right now is there's a bunch of bedding all over the place. But there's a lot of trash and dishes and little shit. The worst part is it's all bending down crap..

I am such a weak noodle. I'm huffing and puffing in the first 3 minutes. Mom is all "you need to stop, you're making me anxious"

I told her that sounded like a personal problem. 😐 I told her i was going to clean. She had 15 minutes to get used to the idea.

This is literally why the house is never cleaned because both mom and sister have that problem. People cleaning makes them anxious. Its good shes not home, if i told her we were having guests and just started cleaning in front of her she'd take that as a personal attack.

I asked the other day, after shopping and appointments and trying to do dinner... If we could have my doctor friend over sometime.

And she was like "TONIGHT!?"

...like are you fucking kidding me? Do you really think so little of me, I would ask that of you? NO!! LIKE IN 2 WEEKS! Sigh.

We all ahve so many issues.

[londonspirit]

So... I have this client (Im a hairdresser) who’s basically my favorite because he speaks NERD (one of the VERY few I have around in RL) and-

(Well, let’s back up a tad: his friend came in last week and as he was about to leave, I told him to tell the nerd (affectionately) he needs to come in as it’s a) been too long (hairwise) and b) I needed him to geek out with! He then asked for what, and I said ‘The Last Of Us’ - even HIS face lit up (he played the game) but he hadn’t seen it yet, wanted to wait until it was ALL out and then binge it ARE YOU MAD? WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO YOURSELF? Anyhow, A DAY LATER, my nerd called to make an appointment for that week! Which means, his friend actually CALLED him to tell him what *I* said! Due to unforseen circumstances I had to cancel him and reschedule for this week.)

So he came in yesterday! He was my last client for the day, boss had left early so I had him all to myself. And god, did I make use of that! Haircut: 30 minutes Total geekout: 90 minutes! 

He hasn't watched yet but LOVES the game, loved hearing me squeal and squee and swoon and wail about it, and can't wait to watch himself - IN ONE SESSION!  Again: how much emotional trauma can one person endure??? (Im so fucking glad it goes out weekly so I can at least TRY to get my shit together for the next week!!!) Anyhow, we already made a new appointment, and I really hope he has watched it by then so we can compare notes.

Also: it's REALLY hard to talk about details when we both know things but don't know WHAT those things are - pretty sure ‘normal’ people would’ve been very confused about our chat ; and after the last epi, I have a terrible feeling so that was a bit of a minefield. But since he's played the game I can at least wail at him without censoring myself the next time he comes in, whether or not he's actually watched by then.

Although, the poor thing has NO idea that episode 3 will punch him in the gut so hard he won't even remember the original story of Bill and Frank (didn't tell him even tho he asked for it!)

And as he left, he said, that what I was feeling: the squee, the LOVE and overall amazement about them getting this just perfect like this? That’s how HE feels playing it - Im pretty sure he’s going to LOVE it and I can’t wait for him to come back in April!!! GAH!!!

So yeah, just wanted to get that off my chest! Happy whenever-this-reaches-you-day (It’s Wednesday here)

[kinetic-elaboration]

September 5: Fire Alarm, Interview, Editing

The heat is already destroying me. I can't take this anymore. I can't take another heat wave. Not in September, not triple digits. If there's another one this calendar year I am simply calling off work until it passes because this is cruel.

I ended up with many physical objects around me at work today. I really thought I was making progress in clearing off my desk and shelves and carts but I guess not.

We had a fire alarm around 1:30 or so that forced us all outside for a solid 40-45 minutes. I think this is also cruel because again, it was triple digits outside. This is longer than a drill and since we did have a real fire in the building once, I was quite concerned about a real fire. Then we a rumor that a sprinkler is going off on the library second floor. That's pretty bad, because books don't like water! So first I understood that to mean there had been a fire and then the sprinklers went off. Then that it was just the sprinklers going off. Then I found out that nothing had gone off, other than the alarm, that the sprinklers had "malfunctioned" but that meant that they weren't turning on. No one explained to me, which I'd still like to know, what set off the alarm in the first place, how we figured out the sprinklers weren't turning on if there was no reason for them to turn on, why the fire department was there for 40 minutes fucking around with the sprinklers that were not an emergency in any way, and why we had to be out of the building that whole time.

After that, the day was basically shot. I had time for lunch, then we had another interview for the part time position. I thought the candidate was fine. I liked her more than the first person but wasn't overwhelmed with opinions. Yet again, the interview was rather disorganized, with people just asking random questions and certain people dominating the whole discussion. Everyone is annoyed with the committee chair for the exact same reason I was annoyed with him as a committee member on a different search in January: he puts off doing things that he doesn't want to do and then the process takes forever and then it has to be rushed very fast and everyone else has to cancel all plans to fit the rushed process. In this case, another committee member who had to reschedule a doctor's appointment for an interview so last minute the schedule was sent out like 1 work day in advance, not even. I'm just... I sound annoyed but actually I don't care!! It doesn't really matter to me. The last time we filled the part time position, the committee didn't even ask for input from non-committee members so like honestly hire who you want. I'm just chewing on popcorn at the train wreck really so fucking glad this isn't me.

I started my edits of the first part of my Troped fic. I think... real, proper editing would require some distance I literally don't have right now and can't afford. It's tough to be full of so many second thoughts and still need to push on and keep writing a really significant part of the text. I'm trying to focus on (1) really awkward phrases and other objective errors; (2) obvious continuity issues; and (3) discrete passages I don't like and can reasonably re-write. The rest is like... it's hard to tell if my unease is with the text or with me, and even if it is with the text, I literally don't have time to fix it so it's best not to worry. Still. I have a lot still to edit and a lot still to write.

[racinggirl]

The Leclercs - CL16

type: one shot word count: 1.8K summary: You enjoy racing, just as your two brothers, however, will you be able to make it up to where they are? requested: yes! (by @nicangelinee ) warnings: a little bit of swearing, getting turned down, possible bad mood? Overall just bad writing! notes: I hope you'll enjoy reading this. This is my first non-love-relationship story I've ever written, so let me know if you like it! Also credits to GIF owner!

Y/N Leclerc, twin sister of Arthur Leclerc, little sister of Charles Leclerc, loving daughter of Pascale and Hervé Leclerc. Born and raised in Monaco, one of the most beautiful countries one has ever seen, at least, according to you and your brothers. Your family had grown quite a name in the small country on the south east coast of France, but not only in Monaco, also in the rest of the world. You family had become the face of racing, your older brother Charles being one of the best in the world, driving his Ferrari in Formula One all over the world. Your twin, Arthur, being accepted into the Ferrari Academy. And then there was you, Y/N Leclerc, winning championships in karting, but nowhere near the level of your brothers.

It had been a struggle, because you wanted to support your brothers more than anything, going with Charles to some of his races, helping Arthur by supporting him during his races as well. Your parents were busy most of the time, which meant they could almost never attend one of their sons races, and that’s where you came in, along with Charlotte.

Don’t be mistaken, you loved them, and you supported them, however it often meant you couldn’t chase your dreams of racing alongside them. There has never been a female Formula One driver, and as much as you wanted to change that, you couldn’t, not yet.

‘’Hey little one, guess what.’’ Charles nudged your arm gently, a smile painted on his face as he watched you take a bite of your apple. ‘’Hmm?’’ You hummed, not taking your eyes off of your phone.

‘’I talked to Mattia.’’ You looked up from your phone, an eyebrow raised as you took another bite of your apple. ‘’You can join me for a hot laps next week!’’ He was excited, because he knew you loved the feeling of the fast cars on a track, especially Imola, the Ferrari home race. However, instead of being excited, you had this bitter taste in your mouth. Of course, you wanted to be there with him, he put all the effort in making this happen and the last thing you wanted to do was break his heart and decline his offer. But the bitter feeling was created by your other appointment, a meeting with one of the scouts for the Ferrari Academy, one step closer to your dream.

‘’Arthur will be there too.’’

‘’I’ll be there, I wouldn’t want to miss it.’’ You smiled, but your mind was racing, in a negative way.

-

You cancelled it, sent an e-mail to the Ferrari Academy to cancel or reschedule your appointment, and right now you were waiting for an answer, hoping they would accept your offer to reschedule. You had your laptop on the kitchen table of your parents house, your knee bouncing nervously up and down as your eyes scanned the mail.

‘’Fucking hell!’’ You exclaimed, your hand hitting the round kitchen table probably a little too hard as you read the words. No possibility to reschedule, meaning your chance at the Academy was probably ruined, all because you didn’t want to disappoint your brothers, who you were so proud of. What you forgot, though, was the fact you and Arthur shared a laptop, not because you didn’t have the money to buy two, but call it a twin thing, you shared almost everything.

‘’Sis, I need that.’’ Arthur called from the other side of the kitchen, pointing towards the silver laptop in front of you. ‘’Why?’’ You were a little moody, which made sense because you just lost hope to achieving your dream. ‘’Because I need it, duh.’’ He walked closer, and you quickly closed your mail, not wanting either of your brothers to know you ruined your shot at getting into the same Academy as your twin brother.

‘’Just buy your fucking own laptop then.’’ You muttered, shoving your chair back from the table before getting up and walking to your bedroom, leaving Arthur with a confused look on his face.

But then, he understood, he saw the e-mail since you hadn’t logged out of your mail account, meaning he could read your mail you sent, as well as the mail you received from the Academy. ‘’Oh shit…’’ He mumbled, a frown on his face as he looked at the mail, and then to the door of your bedroom.

He and Charles talked about it without you knowing, they felt guilty, because they knew about your dreams, wanting to be the first female Formula One driver, an example for many females out there wanting to grow and become bigger in motorsports. So they arranged a new meeting, Charles and Arthur having more influence and prestige at Ferrari, going behind your back, for your own good, to make sure you could have another meeting and hopefully get accepted.

‘’You what?!’’ You were mad, pissed almost, because they did something behind your back, whilst you purposely tried to hide it from them, because you wanted to do it on your own, without having the Leclerc surname help you along the way. ‘’You cancelled it because of me, Y/N, we got you another chance, aren’t you happy?’’ Charles and Arthur looked at you, confused as to why you all of a sudden were acting this way.

‘’Right, YOU got me another chance, YOU did that, not ME, but YOU!’’ You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you crossed your arms in front of your chest. ‘’Why don’t you just understand that I want to achieve things, because of me, and not because my last name is Leclerc, or because you are my brothers!’’ You exclaimed, hands in your hair as you let out a groan. ‘’Just, let me be, okay? I’m independent! I can handle stuff on my own, without your help!’’ You sighed before walking out, slamming the door closed behind you.

You felt guilty, sure, you knew they just wanted to help, but you already knew how things would go whenever people found out the only reason you got into the Ferrari Academy was because of your brothers. ‘Privileged, spoiled, corrupted.’ And you wanted to prevent those comments, even if it meant not getting into the Academy to chase your dreams.

-

‘’Thank you for having me.’’ You shook hands with the scout, a smile painted on your face as you took a seat across the guy in the Ferrari shirt. You cancelled the appointment Charles and Arthur made, sending them an e-mail, explaining your vision and reason for cancelling the rendezvous. You received a response with a new invitation, and you never said anything to either of your brothers, wanting to surprise them, but also prove them you were able to fix things on your own, without their help. You knew you were their little sister, and they wanted to help you like the lovely brothers they were, but they had to understand you were capable of fixing your own things as a 21 year old.

-

From that moment on, things went quite fast. You got accepted almost instantly, because they really admired your willpower and dedication, as well as independence and strength. On top of that, you were one of the best drivers out there, being the best female driver, and being at the top of drivers in the Academy, along side your twin brother.

You and Arthur quickly got the nicknames of double trouble, because whenever you and Arthur were practicing, racing or training together, other people knew they’d be in trouble because the two of you together was one of the most dangerous parings anyone had to face, you were so strong together, being the fastest at almost any track, being able to just look each other in the eye and knowing the strategy the two of you had planned, call it twin telepathy, but it worked, and you both loved it.

‘’Are you serious?’’ Your heart was almost beating out of your chest the moment you received the call, eyes widening and your head nodding so quickly it was about to fly off. ‘’Yes, yes! Of course! Oh my god.’’

-

All of that, and especially that particular phone call brought you here. Charles nor Arthur knew, you managed to keep it a secret from everybody, including your twin brother. A pass around your neck, Carlos’ PR manager on your side as you made your way into the paddock, flashes around you, reporters calling your name, everybody was excited the moment they heard the news.

‘’Y/N.’’ Charles was one of the people calling your name the moment he saw you in the bright red Ferrari shirt, your drinking bottle in your one hand, your phone in the other. That one phone call you received only four days ago brought you here in the Formula One paddock, as a driver, a reserve driver.

‘’Hi Charles.’’ You laughed the moment his arms wrapped around you tightly, you returning the favour as you ruffled his hair as you always did. ‘’When I heard the news I couldn’t believe my eyes, I thought they were all pranking me.’’ He laughed, not once letting go of his little sister, his teammate during the Belgian GP.

‘’Surprise.’’

Carlos unfortunately tested positive for COVID-19, meaning he had to be in isolation and couldn’t attend the race. Arthur had his own race in formula 2, which meant he couldn’t fill in for the Ferrari driver. Antonio wasn’t able to make it either, so the people at the Ferrari Academy didn’t hesitate once to hand over your name, ‘Y/N Leclerc, one of the best drivers here at our Academy.’

-

And it’s lights out and away we go, as both brother and sister go together into turn one, Charles Leclerc taking the lead, Y/N Leclerc following her brother to possibly achieve a double Podium for the Ferrari team.

And that’s exactly what happened that day in Spa. You finished on the podium, along with your brother on the top step, Max Verstappen second and you, Y/N Leclerc, third place.

Many things were going through your mind, good things, memories of your achievements the past couple of years, your dedication, independence and willpower got you here, on the podium next to your brother Charles.

‘’Come on little sis, drink with me.’’ Clinging your champagne bottle against your brothers, using both your hands to raise the bottle up in the air to take a sip of the cold drink, that had also been poured over your Ferrari race suit. He wrapped his arm around you, the biggest, proudest smile on his face as you both looked over at the crowd. And there they were, your family, your twin, your parents and your sister in law, recording, clapping, cheering and crying. And your brother, arm still wrapped around your shoulders, his number one trophy in his right hand as the number three trophy balanced in your left. You felt a kiss being pressed against your right temple, which made you smile even wider, a tear falling out of the corner of your eye as you both rose your trophy’s up high into the sky, together.

[timemachineyeah]

This is going to be a vent post. I’m fine. It’s okay! Sometimes I just need to rage uselessly against things no one can control before once again trying to be my usual pragmatic make-the-best-of-things self.

If you do not wish to read a vent, that’s understandable. Please scroll. Okay. 😘

Jesus Charcuterie Christ I am so fucking sick of chronic illness.

I am tired of the dirty bathroom, which I cannot clean because the energy just doesn’t exist even though I want to clean it. Even though I like cleaning a bathroom! When I was a kid I used to volunteer to be the one assigned to the bathroom!

This morning I woke up and changed the litter and I think a box was heavier than I had anticipated or something but I ended up so exhausted I couldn’t really stand or move my arms. It took me twenty minutes to eat a yogurt cup. My brother came home with groceries and I couldn’t jump up to help him put them away. I wanted to get out of his hair by going back to my room but I needed to sit for another hour before I had rested enough to walk back up the stairs.

It’s not always this bad. But god, when it’s this bad I want to scream. I want to tear out the tongues of every well meaning person or doctor who’s ever told me to just slowly try to build my stamina. Have you tried yoga? You should be doing aerobic exercise to the point of not being able to speak between breaths at least three time a week! My body gives out before I can get winded. My hands shake. I can’t open the cracker box. I can barely swallow. Sometimes I can’t hold a conversation. I hate it. I hate it.

I went to the doctor in March and made a follow up appointment that was supposed to happen today, but I got a call that it was canceled and rescheduled for next month. I should be relieved because I was really going to have to push myself to get there. I was able to go back to bed. Instead I just want the doctor to see me. To hear me. To do something.

“We’re not going to be able to support you forever”, my mom tells me, at least once or twice a month. Not to be shaming. She’s just telling the truth. My parents are aging. Their income is decreasing, their health is declining, they don’t know how Dad’ll ever be able to retire but his job is actively killing him. I never know what to say. I always say, “I know”, because I know. But I also know I literally cannot do any more than I’m doing. I had to take breaks between lifting the yogurt spoon to my mouth. I had to take the stairs one at a time.

I want to do so many things. I have so many ideas, so many dreams, so many causes. I want to scream, “Mom, you more than anyone know how stubborn I am! How determined I can be!!!” I am too tired to even have big feelings. Anger and despair are both exhausting. A good mood gives me more energy, so I have become So. Fucking. Tempered. Kind. Balanced. Rosy. I can and WILL find the bright side if it fucking kills me because if I don’t it will. But even that is tiring. It’s so tiring to not be able to have the bad feelings because you know the bad feelings will cost you even more of your life.

I know this is real. I just want any other person to know it too, as surely as I do. I just wish a doctor could see it, acknowledge its truth, tell me why. Bonus points if they can make it even a little better.

I looked up the date of my first MRI, the one I got when this all started. A few weeks ago while lying on the floor between my bedroom and the bathroom I started to wonder about MS, the disease that killed my mother’s little sister. It was the first thing I suspected when this all started so it was the first thing they looked for. I looked up that MRI, and it was in 2014.

Eight years. This has been going on for eight years.

I might have them do another, on the off chance this IS multiple sclerosis and the first MRI was just too early. I was gonna ask about it today, but the appointment was canceled.

I want to clean the bathroom. Maybe I can just clean the sink. Maybe that won’t be too much.

I miss going on long walks. I used to walk ten miles in a day. Now a block wipes me out.

I am adjusting. I am accommodating myself as much as I can. I am doing my best. If it never gets better I will find a way to make the best of what I’ve got.

But eight years. God fucking dammit. I could’ve done so much. Who would possibly fake this and why. For what??? Attention? Sympathy? Where. I don’t get those things. To get out of work? Even the work I love? Even play? Even free time and friends??? I lose those things as much, if not more. I am not married, I don’t have kids - these are things I wanted! I want to date! Fuck! I’m so mad. It’s 2:30 in the afternoon on a Monday and I am sitting in my room with the lights off and all the curtains drawn around my bed typing on my phone made as dark as possible so it doesn’t strain my eyes and I would rather be doing so many other things. Instead I’m probably going to go back and forth between a video game and my bed all day. Maybe I’ll wash the sink.

It’ll be okay. I’ll be okay. But this is real. This is so real. I have lost so much. This isn’t fun for me. It’s not a game. And it should be a cry for help, because I need help, but I actually fucking hate asking for help. I just want to be able to do it myself. That’s all I ever wanted.

[jungkookiebus]

The Client pt. 3 | kth

Genre: sexworker!au x smut x angst x fluff (for real this time) Pairing: sexworker!reader x taehyung Word Count: 6k Rating: 18+ Warnings: multiple orgasms (m&f) x taehyung and reader are basically switches x oral sex (m&f) x cum eating x fingering x nipple play x cum swapping? x unprotected sex x creampie Summary: The painful weeks after Taehyung’s accidental confession have the both of you living in agony. Just when the both of you thought you were over the other, you quite literally run into each other in the rain. Taehyung walks away from you into the dark night. Do you have the guts to go after him?

Taehyung’s days drug by endlessly. Each day stretched further than the next when all he wanted to do was get home as quickly as possible and pass out just as fast. When he was asleep at least he didn’t have to think about you, that is, if his brain decided to give him a break. Sometimes he’d dream that he got to replay that night again with you being none the wiser and he never said it. He’d get to see you again. But then he’d wake up to the harsh reality that simply wasn’t true. Then his miserable day would start all over again. He knew better than to request an appointment and he had written and rewritten the same email that now sat in his drafts, collecting hypothetical internet dust. He also made sure not to go to that same café again even if it was close to his office. Any thought of you sent a pain into his chest so sharp he could hardly stand it. You had probably forgotten how foolish he had been and moved on from him, just another client lost to the crowd. And in a way, Taehyung wished for that, but he was very wrong.

Your POV

Two weeks earlier

You felt the tears welling up in your eyes before you could stop them. You blinked fast, hoping they would just go away but the emotion was too strong. Taehyung had just told you he loved you and you could barely breathe as you looked at him, watching as his face turned red in shock.

“Taehyung, please clean up and leave.”

He didn’t even bother using the bathroom this time. He fumbled as quickly as he could with his clothes and exited the room but not before shooting a pained expression in your direction. You tried to direct anger at him because you needed him out of the room as quickly as possible and it seemed to work as he shut the door behind him. You burst into tears as soon as the door clicked shut and you curled up on your side as you shuffled under the blankets.

You had been in this line of work for years. This was your life, your passion and you didn’t see it as some skeezy side job that helped pay the bills, no, this was the job. Your interest in sex and various sexual partners was why you decided to go into this line of work, you had never been made out for relationships and you were beginning to think you were incapable of romantic feelings until you met him. But since this was your job, you quelled those feelings because, just as the job entailed, you had to put on an act. You hadn’t hoped that he noticed the little extra you poured into each session, and maybe he didn’t, but you suddenly felt responsible for this. There was no way you could have a relationship with him, not in this line of work. Jealousy was a bitter bitch and you weren’t about to deal with that.

But what if he didn’t care?

No, shut up. You can never expect someone to be okay with your sex work…

You cried a little harder into the sheets. No feelings. It was in all your contracts because you thought you didn’t have feelings, not in a sociopathic kind of way, but…you gripped harder at the sheets as you screamed into a pillow. Why did this have to happen to you? You needed to get home, but you were too miserable to move. Reaching out of the covers you reached to the bedside for your phone, thankful there were no missed calls or texts, you had to give him that. Going into your calendar you canceled all your next week’s appointments and followed it with a lengthy email feigning sickness and some half-hearted explanation on how to reschedule. You weren’t in the mood to see anyone right now and you planned to use the next week to get a little retrospective.

The week didn’t make anything better. You weren’t sure what you were expecting but he hadn’t tried to contact you at all. He was staying true to your contract’s rule of no feelings, staying out of your way and not requesting an appointment. Maybe he thought you had moved past it and was just hoping you’d forget. That would be the best for both of you. So why did it hurt so badly?

You opened your schedule just for the following Monday and a frequent client took one of your two spots immediately. You almost wished that he had at least tried to schedule but there were none. The regular exhilaration you felt about work was gone as you read the client’s requests. Such bland and boring things. Taehyung’s thighs in the white, silk stockings popped into your head as you dropped it into your hands. You squeezed your eyes and willed your brain to shut up as you groaned inwardly. His sharp breaths were in your ear as he held you close to him, his thigh between your legs. Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes again. Why did he have to go and fucking say something? The both of you could have continued living this lie for a little longer. Your fingers dug into the roots of your hair as you willed yourself to stay the fuck away from your phone. Do not go texting or emailing anyone. You felt the softness of his curls dust across your fingertips. Your entire body ached, and you felt feverish. What was this feeling? You hated whatever it was.

Your appointment didn’t go well, which caused you to cancel your second slot and left the rest of your week off the schedule. You weren’t in it. He could tell and so could you. A job you once had passion in now felt cold and it scared you. Maybe when you saw your therapist again, you’d tell her about it, but for now you were going to stay home and away from technology.

Taehyung POV

Three weeks later

The pain had started to hurt a little less as time went by. Enough so that he had agreed to go to a party this coming Friday, finally feeling enough like himself to get out there again. His friend wanted to introduce him to some girl that worked at his firm and figured this was the fresh start he needed.

He looked at himself in the mirror as he held the paper bag wrapped bottle of wine he had procured on his way home from work. He wore a large, soft sweater and dark pants. Soft, he thought to himself. You had always liked when he dressed this way. He shook his head to clear the memory from his mind, wiping it clean with one swipe. Setting his shoulders straight he headed out of the door of his apartment and into the night. The air seemed to be charged with electricity. He squinted up through the city lights to see if he could get any glimpse of the night sky, but he didn’t see anything. One block into his six block walk, lightning flashed and thunder rumbled across the sky. He groaned as he realized his clear lack of umbrella. He quickened his pace, hoping he could make it before it started to pour.

Your POV

The night sky lit up above you as lightning streaked across it.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You pulled your sweatshirt closer, not that it was waterproof, but you guessed it was something. You had two bags slung on one arm as you walked back home from the grocery store but had no idea the weather was supposed to get bad tonight.

“What did I do to deserve this?” you asked, face towards the sky as you felt the first drop hit your cheek.

You still had at least four blocks and by the way the wind picked up, this was going to hit sooner rather than later.

“Just don’t let me get pneumonia.”

You walked a little faster as the raindrops picked up. You heard with dread as behind you, they began to hit the buildings and pavement with more ferocity. Cold wind picked up, whipping around you, and bringing with it, cold ass rain. You shivered as it almost instantly soaked into the back of your pants and you cursed the minute you decided to step out of your apartment. You were stopped by a traffic light on a corner, continued to get soaked as you waited for the light to change. You dodged puddles as you skipped across the street quickly and didn’t realize there was someone else approaching just as quickly on the otherwise empty sidewalk. You didn’t have time to react as you ran square into someone’s chest before stumbling backwards. The stranger reached out for you, and to their credit, grabbed your hand but went down with you anyway. The both of you landed directly into probably the deepest puddle you had ever seen in your life, but at this point you were used to your shitty luck.

“Look, oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

Your entire body seized in fear because you knew that voice too well and it haunted your dreams, causing the new bags under your eyes. You wanted to sleep to forget, but you were afraid to fall asleep in fear that you might see his face.

“S’okay,” you mumbled quietly, gathering your bag and trying to stand quickly.

The rain poured harder and at this point you were soaked to your underwear and fucking miserable. Your back was to him as you attempted to flee the scene.

“Hey! Wait! Are you okay?” he called after you.

“Fine!” you called over your shoulder. The rain was pouring so hard he probably couldn’t hear you.

You felt his hand on your shoulder before he spoke. You were right under the streetlamp when you stopped dead in your tracks.

“This fell out of your bag.”

You had to turn around to get it back. Walking away would just be creepy and weird. Your hood was still up, but he’d know. You swiveled on your heel and looked up before you even fully faced him. His dark curls stuck cutely to his forehead; he was just as wet as you. His eyes widened in surprise and you looked down at the obvious bottle of wine in his hand. Looked like he was going on a date. So he had moved on. That’s exactly what you wanted so you weren’t sure why the pain in your stomach was so sharp. The apple sat in his hand so delicately and you suddenly missed those fingers more than you expected yourself to. You reached for it slowly and grasped it tightly before taking it.

“Thank you,” you mustered up. If any tears were to fall it wouldn’t be like he’d see them.

He looked pained and in shock. You were the last person he expected to see.

“Y-you’re welcome,” he stuttered out. He turned quickly and made his way down the sidewalk and back into the wet night.

You watched as he crossed under the next streetlight, tall frame falling into shadow again as he moved farther and farther away from you. You still stood, raindrops hitting the plastic bags and making your clothes feel ten times heavier. Your chest burned and you barely felt the cold as you cried, telling yourself to turn around and go home, but everything in your body screamed run.

You barely heard the cans, fruit, and glass bottles hit the ground as you dropped the bags and sprinted in the direction Taehyung had gone. The rain hit your face harder and it felt like you were running into the heart of the storm. He hadn’t left that long ago, so you should catch up to him soon, right?

“Taehyung!” you yelled as you tripped around an outdoor restaurant sign.

Tears fell freely now as you ran, feeling your shoes rubbing blisters on your heels as you slipped in them. Maybe he had turned down another block.

“Taehyung!” you yelled again as you stood on a street corner, but the sidewalks were barren.

You turned in circles, sobs coming out freely now as you gave in to the heartache. You had fucked up everything and now you were paying for it.

“_______?” you heard behind you.

You turned quickly and Taehyung stood, equally as soaked, and still clutching the wine bottle.

“Taehyung.” You were so surprised you weren’t sure what to say.

“I heard you calling me.” You saw the puffs of smoke drift from his mouth as the temperature dropped. You needed to get this out fast.

“I love you, too. I know it’s stupid. I know I said no feelings. I know I made you sign a contract. I never thought I was capable of loving someone else, but you did that for me. Over the months,” you gestured as you laughed nervously, “I started feeling things I had never experienced and that scared me. It was something I talked to my therapist about and,” you realized you were rambling and took a deep sigh. “I don’t want to let go of the one person who brought me those feelings.”

Taehyung stared at you, face unreadable as he searched yours. You felt that strange dread you always felt as a kid when you did something wrong, it ran from head to toe and made you feel sick. He was angry because you had rejected him and now, here you were, telling him you loved him. You knew it wasn’t fair, and you wouldn’t be mad at him if he didn’t reciprocate those feelings now.

The wine bottle hit the pavement with a dull crack as he moved forward. He had you gathered in his arms and lips on yours just as the sky opened a little wider, lightning lit up the buildings in an eerie blue glow. Thunder cracked overhead and tumbled across the sky like falling rocks down a mountainside. But Taehyung’s lips were warm on yours and you felt relief wash through you. Though, you felt as if you didn’t deserve it, he had accepted you.

“I don’t want to keep you from your date.” Your words came out shaky as you shivered, cold hands against his wet sweater.

He looked a little stunned at your comment.

“It wasn’t really…a date.”

Your heart plummeted again, despite getting what you wanted.

“Besides, fuck that date.”

He grabbed your hand and headed in the direction of his home, which was coincidentally not too far from yours, but he was in an upscale high rise closer to downtown. The both of you dripped across the marble of the lobby as he directed you to the elevator. You both stood, shoulder to shoulder, shivering, and exchanging awkward glances as you made it to his floor. Once he had you in his apartment, he turned the heater on low, as he guided you through his tastefully decorated apartment. Expensive looking art donned the walls of the hallway he led you down and each had their special lighting. The bathroom he led you too was fit for hotel suite as he stepped into the walk in shower and started the water. He stepped back out and up to you, hands tentative on the bottom of your soaked through sweatshirt. He pulled the dripping fabric over your head and you shivered as the cold air hit your skin. You crossed your arms over your chest to stay warm as he peeled your sweats off your legs.

“Get in the shower,” he said softly.

You slowly walked inside, easing under the stream of warm water, and reveled in the feeling of your limbs finally defrosting. He followed behind you, stepping under the rainfall shower with you, and you immediately wrapped your arms around his waist, holding him close.

“I’m sorry for kicking you out.”

“I breached my contract.”

His hand was reassuring on the back of your head as your cheek pressed against his chest. He was right and you had every right to do what you did, but you wouldn’t have felt bad about anyone else.

“Yea, that wasn’t very fair to throw that at me.”

He held his breath a little, expecting you to tell him the truth, but still not ready when you said it.

“I know. My mouth moved before my brain could catch up and I’m sorry for putting you in that position.”

He sounded so sincere in his apology and he hadn’t tried to contact you at all this entire time.

“What now?”

Taehyung’s POV

What were you supposed to do now? He hadn’t really expected to be here in this position. Across the bathroom, his phone vibrated on the counter. Probably his friend wondering where he was as he stood up his somewhat blind date. But he was exactly where he wanted to be three weeks ago, standing here with you in his arms. He wanted to ask if you were real. You shivered slightly as you continued to warm up and he held you closer to him. He missed the feeling of your skin against his. You were here with him and it wasn’t an appointment and he wasn’t under any contract.

Instead of answering your question, he released his hand to tilt your chin upwards so that he could kiss you properly. You sighed softly against his lips and he felt the familiar flutter in his chest that he only associated to being in your presence. His lips were against yours in a gentle kiss, touching just for a moment when he whispered.

“Use me.”

You looked startled by his statement and somewhat confused.

“W-what do you mean?”

His thumb was against your chin, rubbing lightly along your skin as he continued to stare into your eyes. He wanted you to know that everything he said from this point forward was from his heart.

“Use me like everyone uses you. I know it’s your job, but when was the last time you did something you wanted? Use me in any way you want, anywhere you want. You name it, and I’ll do it.”

You were biting your lip as he spoke. He knew you were doing it in thought, but the action had him wanting to bite down on the pink flesh himself, but he waited. You searched his face as he watched the gears in your head turn. It seemed as if this were the first time you were being asked this question. He slid his hand along the small of your back, drawing you closer.

“I’ll give you anything you want,” he said as he dipped lower to your face again. You blushed deeply as he brought his face closer. “Are you shy now?”

“No,” you whispered.

“You know,” he started, “the last session; the one I—anyway, you were behind me one day in a coffee shop by my office, but you were on the phone so you didn’t notice me.” Your eyes widened in surprise. “You looked so casual, so relaxed, so you. I wanted that version of you, so that’s who I created for that session; that was the only way I could really be close to you.”

A knowing sigh passed your lips and cooled the water on his face. “I had begun to wonder…I suspected you had feelings some time ago.”

He felt ashamed for letting too much through and putting you in a difficult position. In a sick way, it worked out for him, but he was hoping that with time you’d let him make it up to you.

“What would you like me to do?” He let his voice drop, sounding gentle, but tried to entice something from you.

Your POV

Your body shook at the timbre of his voice and you wanted to basically climb him right here in the shower. What fantasy of yours did you want? There were so many. A few didn’t fit into this situation, some were questionable, maybe a few were embarrassing, but you knew he would do literally anything you asked of him.

“Do you still have the stockings?”

You felt him grow a little bit harder against you, cock twitching on your stomach as the hand on your back tightened.

“Yes,” he breathed.

“The shirt?”

“It’s at the dry cleaner, but I definitely have a substitute.”

Reaching behind you, you turned off the shower.

“Put them on.”

Taehyung complied immediately, stepping from the shower to grab you a towel before grabbing one for himself. He dried himself quickly as he slipped into the connecting closet. You towel dried your hair so that the cold water wouldn’t drip down your back as you waited. A few minutes passed before he stepped back out of the closet. Instinctively, you started at his feet, admiring the silk wrapped around his calves and then his thighs. His cock was fully erect now, a subtle pink glow to his skin. The shirt he had on looked expensive and tailor made. He left it unbuttoned, but it fit perfectly across his broad shoulders, sleeves ending at his wrists. You walked forward and rubbed the fabric between your fingers. It was the softest cloth you had ever felt, and it flowed like air across his skin. The white of the shirt only accentuated the honey color of his skin as you ran your fingers over his stomach.

“Will this be okay?” He sounded like a child waiting for appraisal from its elder.

“This is perfect, Taehyung,” you said while still running your hands over his body. They now rested on the outside of his thighs. You really did like the way he looked in these.

Slowly, you eased yourself to your knees in front of him. He looked surprised as his eyebrows disappeared beneath his hair. Something primal inside of you stirred as he stood towering over you, wrapped in soft fabric, with his hard cock right in front of your face. To say you missed him would be an understatement. You wrapped your hand around him gingerly, knowing just how sensitive he was. His hips barely moved as your soft hand closed around the base. You ran your other hand up his stockinged thigh, feeling his muscles flex beneath your palm. He groaned as you reached around to grasp a handful of his ass in your hand. Pushing him forward, you guided his cock between your lips and sunk as far as you could, your nose kissing your finger. His hands flexed at his sides as he further became submissive in your hands. He was falling and was more than willing to receive whatever was at the bottom. You held him there in your mouth for a few seconds, letting him feel the warmth of you wrapped around him, tongue moving along the sensitive skin on the bottom of his cock. You watched him as his head tilted down to look at you. His hair hung in half dried curls, framing his perfect face and suddenly you thought you had never seen anyone more beautiful than him. You slipped back slowly, leaving your hand at the base, until just the tip was nestled between your lips like a lollipop. Sucking lightly, you came off with a pop, never breaking eye contact. His body flushed with goosebumps as your eyes continued to dare him to look away. Precum still leaked from his cherry red tip. It glistened in the bright lights of the bathroom, beckoning like a sweet dessert. You wanted more of him, to devour him whole and make him yours forever. Taking him in your mouth, you sank down quicker this time, pulling back and setting a rhythm. His muscles twitched beneath your hand as you kept it on his ass, almost pushing him in time with your mouth. His moans pitched, echoing off the marble walls, a symphony with the most beautiful note. He was biting harshly into his bottom lip as he kept his eyes locked on yours. He wanted so badly to screw his eyes shut but didn’t dare look away. You saw his eyes well with tears, a few escaping down his nose until it dripped perfectly underneath your own eye. Your name tumbled from his lips in quick gasps now.

“_ ____, I’m g-gonna come, oh my god.” He didn’t seem to be getting enough air as he forced his orgasm to wait. His skin was hot beneath your hand and his cock was so hard in your mouth you were sure he was using a great amount of self-control.

Not wanting him to lose it, you pulled off quickly saying, “Come.” Before you sank back down on him, removing your hand and pushing him far back into your throat. His groan was guttural as he almost doubled over, fingers soft on your shoulders in case he lost his balance, as he came in hot spurts down your throat. He was against your gag reflex, but you focused on breathing through your nose and concentrated on your breath. Both hands were tight on his thighs now just so you could feel the way they moved beneath your hands. His hips stuttered forward into your mouth in a few shallow thrusts until you felt the last drops. No longer able to breathe this way, you pulled off his cock and quickly swallowed so that you could exhale.

“Fuck,” you whispered through a raw gasp.

Taehyung’s hands were on his knees as he stumbled backwards, ass meeting the cold counter, and he slumped back. He looked like a perfect statue carved from the most precious stone. His dark hair stuck to his cheeks in sweat or water, you weren’t sure which. The white silk shirt was soaked through and plastered to his skin and it accentuated the soft muscle of his chest. It opened perfectly to expose his stomach and frame his bottom half. His cock was still hard, and the stockings had stayed in place. You licked your lips and rubbed your thighs together as you drank him in. He cocked an eyebrow when he looked at you, finger coming up in a ‘come here’ motion. You stood, sauntering over and his eyes raked over your body hungrily. Slotting yourself between his legs, you ran your finger under his chin, and then your thumb over his bottom lip. He was looking into your eyes, waiting for your next command.

“You have to make me come no less than three times.” You let your eyes flutter innocently to his lips and then back up to his eyes. “By any means possible.”

Taehyung inhaled deeply as he closed his eyes. He placed his hands on your hips and pulled you closer again. With a sigh he kissed you and you fell into it, body, and soul. One of his hands went between your legs as he continued to devour you. You moaned, fingers digging into the stockings as he rubbed his fingers along your slit, gathering every bit of you that spilled on his fingers before circling your clit. You gasped in his mouth as he pinched your nipple between his fingers and twisted lightly. You moved your hips over his fingers, and he stilled, letting you do the work. He pinched a little harder on your nipple as he bit down on your bottom lip. You moved faster now, circling, and grinding your hips on his fingers. God, how you missed these fingers. You were all but crying into his mouth when your muscles began to tense. Your calves ached as your toes curled painfully, but the pain wasn’t going to make you stop the rhythm that was soon going to send you over the edge. As your whines pitched and your entire body began to shiver, Taehyung twisted your nipple harshly and pressed harder against your clit. You ground against him, breathing heavily through your nose as Taehyung seemed to be intent in gathering every moan you had. You couldn’t help the clench in your jaw when you came, making your lips immobile against his. You keened and your breath seized in your chest. His lips were at the corner of your mouth as you wet his fingers even more, hips slowing to a halt as you finally let out an exhale.

“One,” he whispered as he placed a kiss to your cheek.

Your body was already beginning to feel the sleepy side effects of your orgasm, but you knew you could take it. He pushed you back lightly as he stood in front of you, placed his hands on your shoulders and switched positions, picked you up and sat you on the edge of the counter.

“Now it’s my turn,” he smiled as he dropped to his knees. He spread your legs as wide as he could, warm hands on the insides of your thighs, so that he could get a better look. Your skin shone with your cum and Taehyung didn’t want to waste another second without tasting you. He leaned forward and licked a long, slow stripe up your center. His tongue dipped inside of you quickly and curled. He drew it back out and swallowed.

“How does it taste?” you asked as you buried your fingers into his hair and pushed him a little harder against you when his lips were back on you.

“Mmpf,” he moaned into you as he fucked you with his tongue. His nose pressed against your clit as you wound your fingers into the hair at his nape. He shook his head quickly against you and with your other hand planted on the counter behind you, you began to move your hips against his face. Taehyung wrapped his arms around your thighs so that he could pull you as close as possible. His eyes opened to meet yours and his pupils were so blown that you could no longer see the chocolate color there. He looked beautiful between your legs on his knees, almost as if he were born for this. His mouth told you this truth. He knew your body more intimately that any other client you had ever had. He knew the perfect ways to edge you, and at the end, have you coming so hard that your vision darkened. He moaned now, sending vibrations straight into your clit. Your entire body was so hot, and it was soon hard to keep your sweaty palm from slipping against the counter. Holding his head, you ground as hard as you could and with the combination of his tongue and the deep rumbles escaping his throat, you came again. He kept his mouth on you, tongue hot inside as you clenched. He drank you in as if you were his last meal. Gently, he nuzzled his nose against your swollen clit, licking up all that he could of you. When he sat back, you saw your creamy cum on his lips and chin. You grasped his chin, forcing him to rise on his knees as you came down, licking the cum from his lips slowly. It was bittersweet against your tongue and Taehyung moaned. Your tongue was past his lips and the taste of you was even stronger on his.

“Are you tired yet?” he asked smugly when you pulled away.

“You wish.”

His smile was devastating as he stood. What you wouldn’t give to see that smile every day of your life. Were you willing to sacrifice for him? Mid-lust ____ probably shouldn’t think about this right now. He placed his hands on the counter on either side of you as he leaned, looking at your face.

“Can I make love to you?” he asked.

Your body flushed and shivered involuntarily, and you felt new arousal bloom in your stomach. Something about the way he said it had you wanting to simultaneously coo over him and fuck his brains out.

“Yes.”

What more was there to say? He rubbed his cock along your slit and your gaze cast downwards to watch. The stockings still looked perfect and the shirt was still giving him every favor. He pushed in slow, feeling your swollen walls take him in fully. When he bottomed out, you gasped and clung to his shoulders as his hips began to move. His breath shuddered against your skin as he buried his face into your neck. His fingers dug into your hips as he quickened his pace. You weren’t sure what you did to get blessed with someone whose cock curved perfectly into your g-spot, but in this moment, you weren’t complaining. Your clit was already so sensitive that any move against it had your stomach clenching and your eyes rolling. It really wouldn’t take much for him to make you come a third time and you were really hoping he wasn’t taking this as a challenge. You wove your hands under his arms and dug your fingers into his shoulder blades as you pushed yourself more into him. Taehyung breathed heavily against you.

“Are you going to come, princess?” He picked his head up and was now placing hot kisses to the underside of your jaw. Your body felt as if it were about to melt through the counter and you clung desperately to him. You couldn’t even talk, your chest burned, and he was hitting your g-spot so rapidly that you could barely form a simple word. But for him, you would do this.

“T-tae,” you stuttered.

He didn’t stop as his lips that were against your cheek, parted. “Yes?”

“I love you,” you whispered as you gave into the feeling of him. Your third orgasm hit and this one melted into your body, soothing and erasing all the bad things that had happened in the past few weeks.

You weren’t sure if what you heard from him was a choked sob or just the sheer force of his orgasm, but seconds later he spilled inside of you, hips still moving. He shivered in your arms again. You let him thrust through his orgasm even though you felt as if you were on fire. You’d do anything for him. When he looked at you again, you realized that he had begun to cry. Tears welled in his soft eyes as he cupped your cheeks. He sniffed and his eyes moved rapidly as he looked at every part of your face. Your hands were on his wrists, gently applying pressure.

“Tae, what’s wrong?”

He shook his head as he sniffed louder and laughed. The tears spilled freely now and the juxtaposition to his smile was almost haunting.

“Nothing’s wrong.” His tears slowed and his dewy cheeks began to dry. His hands were still pressing softly into your skin as he seemed lost for words. “I just still can’t believe you’re here.”

The full weight of his feelings for you and all the emotions you flowed through the last few weeks, came rushing down on you like a tidal wave.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry, too!” he cried as he quickly wiped at the tears escaping the corners of your eyes. “I’m sorry. We’re meant to be happy right now, I’m sorry.”

“No,” you said as you gently shushed him. “I am happy. That’s why I’m crying.”

“So,” he whispered softly, face open and innocent, “do you think we can make this work?”

Could you? Who knew? There was much to talk about, and you weren’t even sure where you would start. You definitely needed to talk to your therapist about this but, right now, you knew you didn’t want to let this feeling go. You had gone years thinking you weren’t capable of love or being loved. Who knew it would take a client of yours to pull out those feelings you were sure your brain had dumped at birth? How far were you willing to go?

All you knew was that you were ready to traverse even the most difficult path if it meant Taehyung would be waiting for you at the end.

“Yea,” you whispered back as you squeezed his wrists a little more, “I think we can make it work.”

[something-tofightfor]

Seasons to Cycles / 6

Pairing: Logan Delos x Reader

Word Count: 12,549 (uh... oops?)

Rating: M (Some language, mentions of sex and drug use, talk of death)

Summary:  The morning after you and Logan open up to each other, he comes up with an idea ... and you have to decide whether or not to go along with it. As you continue to navigate with the new knowledge of his circumstances, what does that mean for the two of you?

Author’s Note: This one is a lot, but it clears up even more about Logan and Ariella, and helps to solidify your relationship with him. I hate that I made you wait so long for ... essentially a filler chapter, but sometimes these things happen. Please enjoy! 

You’d fallen asleep just before the sun came up, tossing and turning in Juliet’s comfortable spare bed as you thought about Logan. Wonder if he’s awake, too. Or if he… Unlike the other nights you spent thinking about him, it hadn’t been as easy to turn your mind elsewhere. How could I? He … we … But eventually, sheer exhaustion won, and your eyes closed, breaths evening out. You woke up a few hours later to the sound of Emily’s laughter, opening your eyes and staring at the ceiling for long seconds. Was it a dream? Did I imagine all of …  Bringing a hand to your lips, you shook your head. No, it wasn’t. Checking your phone and answering texts from Jess and Max, you dragged yourself out of bed and got dressed, pulling your bathing suit back on under an oversized t shirt and pair of shorts. If Juliet’s hungover, she might want me to stay with Emily today, too. After a quick trip into the bathroom to wash your face and pull your hair away from your face, you headed down the stairs, barefoot and half dreading what you’d find. But why? It was fine when… “Good morning!” You laughed out loud as you saw Juliet in front of the stove, looking awake and well rested, a spatula in hand. “I’m making breakfast, are you hungry?” 

 “Yeah, I …” You tilted your head to the side. “How are you so awake, Juliet? From what Logan said -” She laughed, flipping a pancake over in the pan before she looked back at you. 

 “Another Delos product. We’ve got a supplement line, and one of them is for hangovers. Logan made me take one last night before I fell asleep, and I felt fine this morning.” Jess could have used one of those after Spire. 

 “I can have the whole line delivered to your place, if you want.” You turned toward the back door, seeing that Logan was peeking his head inside, a grin on his lips. “Your friend probably could have used it a couple weeks ago.” 

 “Emily Grace, breakfast!” Juliet yelled the words, still facing away from you. “You didn’t offer them, Logan?” Juliet turned away from the stove, a plate in her hands. “I’m sure you had -” Emily ran through the living room and past Logan, giggling as the man fully reentered the room, bending over to scoop her up and into his arms. Oh, he… You watched, unable to keep from smiling as he hugged the little girl to his chest, her feet playfully kicking the air as they walked toward the table. 

 “Uncle Logan, I can walk.” She yelled the words, but he didn’t put her down until they were next to the table, and she scrambled into her chair quickly, still laughing. “Sit by me.” He pushed her chair in and then took the seat next to hers, leaning over to whisper something into Emily’s ear. As he sat up, she turned in her seat, kneeling and peering over the back at you as she said your name. “You come eat too, please.” Sneaking a glance at Logan, who was watching you from over his shoulder, you smiled and then nodded. I guess I have to now. 

 “Juliet, before I sit, do you need help?” The woman assured you she didn’t, and so you took a seat across from Logan, looking again at Emily before eyeing the man, unsure of how to approach a conversation with him. The little girl was already tearing into a small stack of pancakes with her fork, you and Logan forgotten. But he told her to… “Morning, Logan.” Juliet leaned over, putting a container of orange juice on the table in front of you, along with a lidded cup for Emily. “I figured you’d already be gone.” 

 “Nope.” He lifted a forkful of pancakes to his lips, chewing, his eyes locked on your face. “Still here.” I can see that, but… “How’d you sleep?” 

 “Fine, I …” You busied yourself making a plate, thinking. What is he… “Took me a little while to fall asleep, but once I did? That bed’s comfortable, and I don’t think I moved.” He laughed, and you even heard Juliet chuckle too. 

 “That’s why I sleep there.” He took a long swallow of coffee. “Took me a while, too.” It did? “And I’m still here because Ari called this morning, and told me she canceled our appointments for this afternoon.” He said it in an even tone, but you saw the hint of disappointment in his eyes. “Said she’s gonna stay in Malibu with her friends for the day, and that she’ll see me again before she leaves.” 

 “I’m sorry, Logan.” It didn’t surprise you, but you still felt for him. “Can you reschedule? You said you were going to meet with -”

 “Maybe.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I should probably just stop trying, and do what she wants, let the planners decide everything.” He doesn’t want to get married, but he still wants the wedding to be… “But on the bright side,” he continued, reaching over to ruffle Emily’s hair. “I get to spend the day with you guys now, and I hear that Em’s got a new float, so…” The little girl groaned and pulled away from the man’s hand, swatting at it halfheartedly without letting go of her fork, and Logan fought back a laugh. 

 “Oh, if you’re going to stay, Logan, I’ll leave after I eat, I don’t want to intrude on family time.” 

 “No, you don’t have to do that.” Juliet cut in, sitting down with a plate of her own and reaching for the syrup. “You should stay.” The table was silent for a few seconds, the only sound Emily’s fork as it hit her plate, and you didn’t know how to respond. It’s going to be weird, I … “Both of you.” You looked at Logan again, and then at Juliet, making your decision with a nod. “Good.” The four of you returned to your food, but Logan’s next words surprised you, your fork and knife frozen above the plate. “She knows, Jules.” Oh, Logan, what are you doing. Juliet swore quietly under her breath, and you dug your teeth into your lower lip, unsure of what to do. I … “After what Ari said yesterday, I couldn’t … I had to …” 

 “Logan, you haven’t told…” Eyes darting between the Delos siblings, you stayed quiet. “Oh, wow.” Juliet looked away from her brother and at you, concern on her features. “Are you … I’m sorry I didn’t say anything when you were here by yourself that day, but I … I couldn’t, I …” 

 “You don’t need to apologize.” You looked back at Logan. “Either of you. I’m not family, I’m not involved in this, I … I don’t need to know, and …” It doesn’t change anything, not really. “It was a shock, but mostly I just …” Hate it for him? Think it’s unfair? “I can’t imagine being in that position.” Logan scrubbed a hand over his beard and then began eating again. “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything to anyone, I already promised Logan that I wouldn’t but -”

 “He wouldn’t have told you if he thought you’d say something.” She took a drink from her coffee mug. “I’m not worried.” 

 “See?” Logan leaned in. “It’s not just me that trusts you.” He raised an eyebrow, still watching you. “Now Jules has someone else on the team.” The team? What …  But Emily turned in her chair, saying Logan’s name, and the man’s attention immediately went to the little girl, the seriousness erased from his features in favor of a bright - though slightly artificial - smile. You risked a glance at Juliet, feeling your heart thumping in your chest, and found the woman watching you with a thoughtful look on her face, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of her lips. What is this… 

 --- 

 Later, the four of you were in the pool, Emily happily splashing around and showing off. She’s a much better swimmer than I thought, I should have let her do more last night. You were leaning against the corner of the pool near the hot tub, eyes closed and elbows resting on the cement and enjoying the feeling of the sun on your shoulders when you felt a hand close around your ankle, tugging gently. What the… Eyes popping open, you glanced down in time to see Logan surface directly in front of you, pushing to his feet and swiping the hair away from his face. “Logan, what are -”

 “You’ve been quiet, I wanted to make sure everything was alright.” He was grinning, but you saw concern in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to throw that on you earlier, telling Juliet?” He wrinkled his nose, pausing. “But I figured she needed to know, because I …” He moved so that he was next to you, leaning back against the wall, too. “I think I figured out how to …” How to what? “You asked what happens next, between us, right?” Us? “I want to be friends, and to see you, but if we start seein’ each other a lot, or do what we did at the Spire and have drinks or dinner or any of that bullshit? It could look…”

 “Like you were doing something wrong.” You whispered the words, watching as Emily posed on her float for Juliet, the woman pulling her around in the pool slowly. “Like I was doing something wrong.” 

 “Yeah.” You looked down at the water, seeing that the liquid’s movement and the sun’s reflection made Logan’s legs look even longer than usual, waiting for him to continue. Because he’s going to. I don’t know where this is going, but it’s not going to be… “And I’m not gonna let that happen.” 

 “Logan, you -” You turned your head toward him, finding that he was staring at you, the concern gone and replaced with urgency and determination. He looks … “What happened last night was -”

 “The best part of the last six months of my life.” No way. You lifted a hand from the water and covered your mouth, sucking back a gasp. He doesn’t mean it, he … “I’ve wasted enough fucking time creating a personality for myself, building a life that makes sense. I like spending time with you, and I liked …” His eyes drifted down to your lips, which were visible again, as you’d crossed your arms over your chest in defense. “Knowing that someone was -” 

 “Logan, you can’t do this.” A note of desperation crept into your voice, and you didn’t try to hide it. It wouldn’t work, he’d still know… “We said too much last night, I shouldn’t have -” 

 “No, I needed to hear it. And I needed to … I needed to kiss you, because it was killing me not to.” You’re Logan fucking Delos, this isn’t happening. “Ariella’s gonna think that you and I are sleeping together no matter what. And there’s nothing I can do about that, I’m going to be totally honest about it.” Of course she is. “But I looked into …” He sighed, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “This is going to sound fucking nuts.” 

 “What is?” You heard Emily yell her mother’s name, and looked up, surprised to see that the two of them had left the pool and were playing in the grass. I didn’t even notice, I… “Logan?” 

 “Look, we have access to some serious tech at Delos, alright?” Where is this going? “I used Jules’ laptop this morning, and you’re not gonna believe this, but …” He reached out with his left hand, running one knuckle up and down your bicep. “You an’ Jules have been in the same place at the same time … a lot.” 

 “Excuse me, what?” Eyes narrowed in confusion, you straightened up. “How do you -” 

 “I ran your name and picture through our system and cross referenced it with Juliet’s, and … she’s been to functions at Woodbury throughout the last couple years, and you’ve … you’ve been at events on behalf of Woodbury that Juliet’s also been at, and then there’s a picture of you here the day I brought you, talking to her and some of her friends.” As he spoke, you calmed down, taking deep breaths. Of course they’d have that type of … they need to use it when they make the Hosts to … and when they … “I’m not even in the picture, so…”

 “So I’m Juliet’s friend, right?” You squeezed your eyes shut. “And because I’m her friend, and you see her often, that’s how I know you.” You looked back at Logan, reaching up to grip the back of your neck. “And why it would make sense for you to stop at Spire and have drinks with me, or talk to me at parties, or to -”

 “It’s a backup plan.” You felt him squeeze your arm. “Just in case anyone ever asks, which they shouldn’t, but I …” He glanced up. “I didn’t wanna blindside you if a story ever runs that mentions you, and they call you Juliet’s friend and not mine.” That makes sense. “Because if I…” He leaned in, getting much closer than he needed to. “If I kill a story about a rumor between us, or tell people that I don’t know you well because we just met? It’s like admitting to something that’s not happening.” And it isn’t happening. It won’t. “I don’t know. Fuck.” He swore, letting go of you and pulling his fingers through his hair. “It was just an idea, we don’t have to … I can just say no comment if …” Wait a minute. 

 “Logan …” You turned to face him head on, reaching up to adjust the strap of your top. “Does this mean that you want to keep … I know you said that you wanted to be friends and keep talking to me, but what does …” 

 “We’re gonna have to set some boundaries, but yeah. I wanna keep you around.” He nudged you, the smile back. “This isn’t gonna get easier for me, especially the closer I get to …” The wedding. “And you bein’ real? Honest? Caring about me? I need someone like you around, even if it …” Logan wet his lips. “Even if it’s hard.” 

 “Hard?” I mean I know why it’s hard for me. “What do you -”

 “I’m bein’ selfish.” He shrugged. “And I know it, but maybe everyone’s right. I’m just a selfish asshole, trying to keep someone in my life because they make me feel better, even though it -” 

 “You’re not selfish, Logan. You’re literally marrying someone that you don’t love for the good of your company, and you’re going to call yourself selfish?” Slightly angry at him, you reached out, putting a hand on his arm. “Yeah, it’s going to be hard to be around you and know that what happened last night can’t happen again, but fuck, Logan, I like you. And I’d rather be -” He groaned and stepped back suddenly, dropping beneath the water, both of his hands closing into fists. What is he… When Logan surfaced a few seconds later, the look in his eyes was one of pure frustration, and you could only imagine that it was mirrored in your own. “Is everything alright?” 

 “No.” He swiped a hand over his face, wiping the water away. “No, it’s not, because I’m standing here, coming up with this stupid plan, and you’re just agreeing to it, even though -”

 “Do you want me to … not agree, Logan? To tell you that I don’t think we can or should be -”

 “Fuck no.” He was holding your hand beneath the water’s surface, grip tightening as he slid his fingers up to your wrist. “I want to grab you again and kiss you in this goddamn pool, but I don’t think Jules would appreciate that in front of Em.” You laughed quietly at that, but knew that Logan could feel your racing heartbeat beneath his fingertips. I want that too. 

 “She probably wouldn’t.” You raised an eyebrow, taking a breath to steady yourself. “And as much as I’d like that, Logan, you’re right. Boundaries are the only way this is …” It’s still not going to work. I’m going to get attached, and then you’re still going to marry her, and I’m going to lose you entirely. “... going to work.” Slowly lowering yourself into the water, you looked up at him once it covered your shoulders. “And who knows, Logan? Maybe after a couple months, you’ll come to your senses and realize that you shoulda kept ignoring me at that Whole Foods instead of inviting me to -”

 “Nah.” He lowered himself back down so that you were face to face with each other again, a couple feet between you. “Trust me, it’s you that’s gonna be wishing that -” Instead of letting him finish, you lifted one hand to splash him, catching him off guard. He laughed in surprise, and you knew that he was going to lunge for you before he’d even moved, but as he wrapped his arms around you and dragged you beneath the water’s surface, you were laughing too. Not a chance in hell of that, Logan. 

 ---

 “Will it just be you attending, Mr. Delos, or should we add a plus one?” The young man stood on the other side of his desk, watching Logan over the top edge of the tablet he held. “We just need to know so that we can reserve enough places at your table for the final headcount.” Ari’s not coming, she already said she can’t, so… He shook his head. 

 “Just me, Oliver. You can reach out to Ariella to confirm if you want, but when I asked,  she said no.” He shrugged, leaning forward in his chair. “This is when? Next …”

 “Next Saturday night. Since Ms. Delos had a scheduling conflict and your father’s unable to attend, it’s just you as a representative of the Delos family.” No pressure, right? “We’ve scheduled you for a fitting next week, Mr. Delos, for the fundraiser and for your …” He glanced down, frowning slightly. “For your wedding, it looks like.” For the wedding? Why would I get fitted this early for the … 

 “Where?” He tilted his head, watching his assistant tap on the screen. “And who -” 

 “Brioni.” Oliver glanced up. “And Cass added the note about the wedding fitting.” Of course she did. After the engagement, his publicist and Ariella’s had been instructed to work together whenever possible, communicating back and forth and keeping each other updated. So I don’t even get to choose my … 

 “Thank you, Oliver. Just add the appointment to my calendar so that I don’t forget.” It’s not his fault. “And hold off on getting ahold of Ariella. I’m going to give her a call now.” He glanced at the clock. “Send her an email or… whatever later this afternoon and confirm.” With a single nod, the man thanked Logan and then turned to leave the room, the door sliding shut behind him. I didn’t think I’d have to talk to her today, but … Logan took a deep breath and picked up his phone, swiping through until he found the woman’s contact information and pressed send, lifting the device to his ear. She’s in London, so I know she’s awake. To his surprise, the woman answered on the second ring. 

 “Logan?” He heard the pause before she spoke, and again before she continued. “What -” Am I going to start an argument over this? He eyed his computer monitor, thinking. Yes. 

 “Why did you and Cass schedule a tux fitting for the wedding? I haven’t even thought about -” He heard her sigh. 

 “I picked a designer for my dress, Logan. And one of the planners and I figured that a Brioni tux would be -” She picked out a dress? We still have almost a year before… But as Ariella continued to talk, Logan realized that it wasn’t almost a year until the wedding; not anymore. I didn’t realize how fast … “So I needed as much time as possible to be sure the dress was done in time, so they can photograph the process, and if you’re getting a custom -” 

 “I appreciate you trying to help.” He gritted his teeth. It’s the first time you’ve actually shown any interest in … “But I’m not going to be fitted for my wedding tux with a stranger, Ari. Mattie’s been my personal -” 

 “Logan.” He heard the woman’s tone change, and could almost picture the look in her eyes changing with it. “I know you love that woman and what she’s done for you, but … this is your wedding. It’s a once in a lifetime thing, and you’re a Delos, you need to -” No. I don’t. 

 “Once in a lifetime?” He laughed at that. “Alright.” So I’m just supposed to, what, stay single after we’re done? “Look, I have nothing against wearing a designer tux to the wedding, and I probably will end up doing that, but I want to at least talk with Mattie, see what my options are.” He gritted his teeth. “You can even have your dress designer send over a sketch or something. I won’t see it, but then Mattie’ll have an idea of what you’re going for so that …” A tux is a tux, it’s … a classic. “Ari, I want to work with you on this, that’s all I’ve ever wanted, but that doesn’t mean …” 

 “Doesn’t mean what, Logan?” There was an edge to the woman’s voice. “You’ve been trying to get me to help you plan this for months now, and I’ve finally made a decision, and you -”

 “Yeah. To help me plan, it Ariella.” He sighed. “Not do it for me. Not decide what I’m going to wear, or when I’m going to … it’s a fucking tux. It isn’t going to take months to -” 

 “There’s going to be press there.” He could hear the smug look on her face. “Stirring up more interest -” Of course there is. Of fucking … 

 “Thanks for the heads up.” He realized that he was gripping his phone tightly and exhaled, reminding himself to relax. This isn’t going to help. “How’d we get here, Ari? We used to like each other, and now I feel like this is …” She laughed, the sound cruel. 

 “It made sense at first. We used to have fun together. If I’d known you were going to expect me to …” You’re almost 30 years old, Ariella. And going to inherit … fuck. “We’re just moving further and further apart, aren’t we, Logan.” It wasn’t a question, and Logan didn’t have a response. This is the most … honest she’s been with me in… “It’ll work itself out.” She paused, and as Logan gathered his thoughts to reply to her, she spoke once more, a haughty laugh at the end. “Maybe you just need a good fuck. That always seemed to cheer you up.” 

 His fingers tightened on the phone again and Logan stood from his desk, the chair rolling backwards. “You have -” 

 “That girl I met, the one at Juliet’s the night of Jim’s party?” Don’t you dare. “She said you weren’t sleeping together, and if that’s true, it’s a shame, especially for her.” He felt his lip curling. This is because I won’t go along with your fucking … “But Jesus, Logan, you have Hosts right there with you, too, if you’re not fucking the babysitter, at least -” 

 “Yeah, Ari. I’ve got options. Just like you.” He fought the urge to slam the phone down onto his desktop, instead taking a deep breath and then letting it out. “Only difference is that I’m not gonna drag actual people into this and lie to ‘em.” He heard Ariella hum, followed by a sigh of her own.

“I practically told her what was going on, Logan. It’s not like -” So you did it on purpose. 

 “And how many other people have you practically told? How many -” He was growing angrier by the second, venturing into uncharted territory as questions about his fiancee’s exploits loomed ahead of him. “How many times have you …” Violated the contract and broken the NDA? When Ariella spoke again, her voice was low, almost seductive, and for a few seconds, Logan was reminded of the first few times they’d met, the way she’d spoken to him - and why he’d been interested in the first place. 

 “What are you asking me, Logan?” She laughed quietly, a groan reaching his ear. “How many people I’ve had sex with since you and I got engaged, or how many times I’ve gone against the terms of the deal?” Oh, she’s… she’s good. “Because one of those has a number, Logan, and the other?” She breathed his name out again, elongating the o, and Logan closed his eyes. “The other one, you wouldn’t like hearing.” The sultriness gone, Ariella spoke once more, the hard edge back, and her tone full of resentment. “I’m not fucking stupid, Logan. I know my way around a contract, and know what happens if this gets out.” 

 “Fantastic, Ari. Wonderful. Thanks for -” 

 “We’re getting married, Logan. You could at least try to be a little excited about it. Oh, and by the way? I’m emailing Oliver today. I’ll be at that goddamn fundraiser next weekend with you. We need to be seen together at a public event again.” The line went dead, and Logan was left standing in front of his office window, the device hard against his palm. I can’t believe she … But he wasn’t focused on the revelation that she would be his plus one the following week, or that she’d confirmed what he knew to be true about her nighttime habits. She never said she told anyone, but she… if she’s sleeping with… they have to know something. 

 He took the few steps back to his desk and set his phone down, reaching for the office phone. Picking it up, he dialed Juliet’s extension, drumming his fingertips on the wooden surface. Maybe we … “Jules?” He swallowed as his sister answered, trying to calm himself down. “Do you have a couple minutes this afternoon?” 

 “Of course, Logan, I can come down now, if you want, I was just about to go to lunch.” I don’t think you need to … 

 “No, sometime this afternoon is fine, before you leave? Don’t waste your lunch.” The contract itself is solid, but if she … “I’ll be in my office the rest of the day, so just let me know.” She told him that she would, and Logan hung the phone up, staring at his computer monitor. I don’t have a copy here, but it’s at home, I can… Eyes landing on his cell phone again, Logan picked that back up, quickly unlocking it and navigating to your text thread, fingers hovering over the keys.  No, not a text. Call her. So he did, eyes flicking to the clock as he waited through five rings and your voicemail silently. She’s busy, she … But his phone rang almost immediately after he ended the call, the screen lighting up with the picture he’d taken of you in the hotel. “Hey, I hope I’m not -” 

 “You’re not.” You cleared your throat. “Took a quick break so that I could call you back, but … is everything alright, Logan? It’s -” No, it’s not, but it … it could be. “You haven’t called in the middle of the day in a while, I…” 

 “No, it’s good. I’m going to order something to eat in a minute but I wanted to …” He pressed his lips together. “Do you want to come over for dinner tonight? We can cook at my place, watch a movie or something.” She’s going to say no. 

 “I have to work late tonight. I won’t be out of here until almost five, and then it’ll be rush hour, so I don’t know how long it -” You stopped, and Logan heard you take a breath. “Do you mind if I get there later than I did last time?” 

 “You can’t control the traffic.” He felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “And I can start the food before you get there, it usually doesn’t take me long to get back from the office.” He said your name, waiting until you’d acknowledged it to continue. “And before you say anything else, don’t worry about going home after work to change.” 

 “How’d you know I was going to …” You trailed off. “You know what? Nevermind. Fine.” He heard a phone ring in the background on your end of the line, but Logan was reluctant to hang up. It’s good to hear a friendly voice. “Are you sure that everything’s good, Logan? You seem off.” She hears that through the … “You can tell me later if you want, we don’t really have time right now, and I know that you don’t half ass anything.” I don’t. 

 “You’re damn right about about that.” Logan ran a hand through his hair, scratching the back of his neck briefly. “So I should plan on seein’ you about … six?” 

 “Yeah, probably.” You cleared your throat. “I have to go, I’m really busy, Logan. I’m sorry, I -” 

 “No, don’t apologize. I’ll see you later.” You said goodbye and then hung up, and Logan leaned back in his chair, both hands behind his head, the fingers laced together at the nape of his neck. The difference in those two … He sighed, letting out a long breath, and then closed his eyes, thinking. Don’t get ahead of yourself, Logan. Ariella’s not stupid. She would have covered her tracks if she’d told anyone. As Logan’s eyes opened, he thought of you telling him that he deserved better, that he wasn’t being selfish. That’s not what everyone told me. That they all think that all I think about is myself. It’s why William was able to … why Jim …why all those …  “Fuck.” 

 He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk and then dropping his face into his waiting hands, fingers disappearing into his hairline. I was too fucking selfish back then and it backfired on me, and now when I need to be selfish? I … I feel guilty about it. Logan rubbed at his eyes before opening them and looking around at his office. I deserve this. Even if I don’t marry her, even if I … Jim can’t… he won’t … But as Logan’s gaze moved across the room, he realized that it wouldn’t be as simple as finding a way out of the Ariella portion of the contract if it was possible - it would be convincing Jim that it was the right thing to do, too. 

 --- 

 By the time you parked next to Logan’s car in the parking garage, you were more than ready to get out of the car. It’s fifteen fucking miles but it just took me 50 minutes to … You pressed the button on the elevator and waited, contemplating texting Logan to tell him you were there, but then opted not to, figuring he could deal with it if you just showed up at the door. He knows I’m coming, he …  You rubbed at your eyes, blinking quickly and thinking about how if it had been anyone but Logan that had invited you over, you would have canceled.  But he sounded like he was having a bad day, I can’t … can’t do that to him. 

 You’d seen Logan a handful of times in the five weeks since the night at Juliet’s, the man coming over to your place twice, you going to his place on a few occasions, seeing each other at Juliet’s once, but things had never gotten to the point that they had that night again. You talked a lot - on the phone and through texts, reaching out to each other at least a few times a week. It’s for the best, you admitted as you raised a hand to knock on his door. The more we … the harder it is to … You heard him call out that it was unlocked, and without waiting, you twisted the knob and pushed it open, stepping into the apartment. Oh, it smells… “Logan?” 

 “Kitchen!” He called out to you, and even though you took a few seconds to remove your shoes, you rounded the corner less than 30 seconds after you’d entered, feeling yourself growing warm as you saw him standing in front of his stove, a pair of rubber-ended tongs in one hand. “Hey.” He glanced at you, a smile on his face and then looked back at what he was doing. He looks … so normal. 

 “It smells like …” You moved closer, resisting the urge to slide your hand against his lower back and your arm around his waist. “Stir fry?” Peering over his arm, you glanced into the pan, eyeing the meat and vegetables inside. “It is!” 

 “Yeah, it was fast, and I already had everything, so …” Logan again glanced at you, voice catching. “Is it alright? We don’t have to -” But instead of answering, you reached over his arm and into the pan, carefully lifting a piece of green pepper and putting it into your mouth. “That’s hot, you -” 

 “It’s great, Logan.” You closed your eyes, chewing. “What can’t you do?” He laughed at that, the sound putting you at ease. “No, I’m serious, it’s really good. Is that…” Putting your thumb in your mouth and sucking the sauce from it, you paused. “Orange? I can taste the ginger, but it…”

 “It is.” You looked up, seeing that Logan was eyeing your hand, the tip of your thumb resting just against your lip. Oh, oops. “I’m surprised you taste it, I didn’t use much, because I -” You returned his smile, reaching up with your clean hand to squeeze his arm just below the edge of his t-shirt sleeve. 

 “It’s good, Logan. Stop worrying.” One side of his lips twitched as he nodded, and then you let go, turning back to the sink to wash your hands. “I’m sorry it took me so long,” you spoke as the water ran, watching him out of the corner of your eye. “Traffic was a mess. I was stopped on 110 by the Intercontinental for like twenty minutes.” 

 “Damn, you can pretty much see my place from there.” You snorted in laugher, turning and looking for the towel to dry your hands with. I know it’s… “Shoulder. I was usin’ it to keep from splashing my hand with oil, and I never put it back.” Reaching up for it, you pulled the cloth from where it rested, thoroughly drying your hands off. “I don’t need it anymore, you can hang it on the hook.” Doing as he asked, you stepped back and watched Logan, his eyes focused on the food in front of him. “If you’re thirsty, you can get a beer or something out of the fridge, I’m sure you need it after that traffic.” That sounds … yeah. 

 It was still strange for you to be in such close proximity to Logan, and to have it be so effortless, though you could tell he was slightly distracted by something. “Do you want one, Logan?” Ducking down, you peered into the refrigerator, pulling out a bottle. “And if -” 

 “Get me one of the Lost Abbey Poppies.” Pushing a few bottles around, you found one, fingers closing around it. “Glasses are all the way to the right, and if you need a bottle opener for yours, it’s in the top drawer behind me.” Thanking him quietly, you set both bottles down on the counter, turning to open the cupboard for two tall glasses. “You wanna grab plates, too? They’re -”

 “I remember.” Opening the third cupboard from the right, you glanced over at the pan and then pulled out two large plates, setting them down on the counter and then turning back to the beer. “Do you want the whole thing poured, Logan, or just -” 

 “It should fit. If you wanna taste it, you can.” I do. Twisting the metal cage off the top of the bottle, you carefully uncorked it, lifting the neck to your nose and inhaling. “It’s one of my favorites. It’s a sour, but that’s what you were drinking at Juliet’s, so…” I was, but I didn’t think he’d...  You heard him flip the stove off, lifting one of the glasses and tilting it, pouring his beer slowly. “How hungry are you?” 

 “Very.” Perfect fit. You grinned as Logan’s beer filled the glass, the dark amber colored liquid nearly reaching the top. Maybe I will taste it, it smells amazing. You brought the edge of the glass to your lips and took a drink, unsure of what to expect. Oh, it is sour but it … Swallowing, you saw that Logan had already dished out the stir fry onto the two plates, turning toward you and holding them in his hands, a grin on his face. “That’s tart, goddamn.” He laughed and set the plates down, pulling another drawer open to get out forks, setting one on each dish. 

 “Told you.” He gave you a wink and you took another small sip before you handed him the glass, watching as he followed your lead and took a gulp. “You gotta open yours.” Right. Looking away from him and down, you pulled the drawer open, reaching in to move its contents around as you looked for the bottle opener. Even his junk drawer is clean. With a small smile on your lips, you shifted a tin box to the side and then used one finger to lift it, moving around a few pens and a pair of scissors. But no bottle opener. As you rummaged through the drawer, you again moved the tin, flipping it over as you pushed it to the center of the space. “Ah, shit.” You swore as a small sprinkling of white powder spilled from it, landing on the back of your fingers and a hand towel that was folded beneath it. “Logan, I -” 

 “You should wash your hand off.” Turning your head to look at him, you saw that he was watching you with an unreadable look in his eyes, though the closest thing you could describe it as was anger. “I’ll -” What? Why? It’s just … But you glanced down again, looking at the powder, eyebrows shooting up and your entire body freezing. It’s drugs. He’s got … Oh, Logan. 

 “Yeah, I …” You pulled your hand back, glancing up at him and then down at the sprinkling of powder. “Thanks.” In the few seconds it took you to turn the water on and begin cleaning your hands, you heard Logan rummaging through the drawer again, and then the sound of it closing. Let him explain. You have no right to judge him. 

 “If you still want to eat, you can sit at the table outside, I’ll go into my -” What? Reaching for the towel again, you dried your hands, spinning back to look at Logan, whose arms were crossed over his chest. “You shouldn’t have seen that.” No, I shouldn’t have, but I did. “I’m -”

 “Is it yours, Logan?” You wanted - and needed - to be direct with him. “I mean, obviously, you don’t have to answer that, but …” 

 “It’s not.” He looked down at the drawer and then back at you, letting his arms drop to his sides. “The first weekend you came here? To watch that show?” You nodded. “She left it here then. I told her no, but she put it in the drawer because she didn’t want to try to get it through airport security, and … I forgot about it, I guess.” That’s a reasonable … “I should have thrown it away, but …” He flattened his hand on the countertop, shrugging his shoulders. “I didn’t.” I believe him. 

 “Alright.” You reached forward, taking the bottle opener from his hand and wiping it off on the towel - just in case - before you popped the cap off of your beer. “I believe you, Logan.” Before the small piece of metal had landed on the counter, Logan’s arms were around you, the man crushing you to his chest. What is he … But you hugged him back, closing your eyes at the feeling of his chest rising and falling against your cheek, the way his hands were pressed to your back. 

 You’d hugged hello and goodbye each time you’d seen him since the night he kissed you, and Logan had pressed a few short - and friendly - kisses to the side of your head, too, but for the most part, you’d been hands off with each other. This feels different than… “Thank you.” He spoke the words against your hair, giving you one more squeeze before he pushed back slightly, looking down at you. “For believing me.” 

 “If you were going to lie to me, Logan, it would have been before this.” You looked down at the closed drawer and then back at the man, allowing yourself to meet his eyes. “You said it’s not yours, and I believe you. I saw her at Juliet’s, so I know she …” Tightening his grip on you, Logan leaned in, and for a few seconds, you thought he was going to kiss you again, but instead, he turned his head, lips landing against your cheek and lingering. “Jesus, Logan, the way you’re acting, you’d think that no one ever …”

 “They don’t.” He straightened up, swallowing hard. “Or they didn’t, anyway. And … it’s not important.” He took a deep breath and then let it out, still watching you. “Do you still want -” 

 “Yes.” You reached over, picking up your beer bottle and then tipping it over and into your glass, Logan’s arms falling away from you. “I came here to eat dinner with you, so let’s eat dinner, Logan Delos.” You lifted the glass with one hand and your plate with the other, tilting your head toward the living room. “Inside or out?” 

 “Balcony.” He grinned at you, picking his own plate and glass up. “I like the view.” Yeah, I do, too. 

 --- 

 The sun was beginning to drop behind the buildings by the time you finished eating, Logan clearing the dishes and taking your empty glass inside with him, returning to the patio with two new drinks and a clean glass for you. “What did you bring me?” Smiling at the man, you reached up, letting him put a bottle into your hand. “The Poppy? You didn’t have to -” 

 “I’ll get more.” He lowered himself back into his seat, pushing away from the table and leaning back. “So you were busy today? At work?” I was. You rolled your eyes, uncorking the bottle and hesitating before you poured it into the glass, instead raising the bottle neck to your lips and tilting your head back. Really fucking busy. 

 “They changed the filing system, so we’re in the process of migrating everything over. And I’m in charge of figuring out what we’re going to do with the old records, and have to make sure that …” You trailed off. “It’s boring, Logan. You don’t care. Nowhere near as interesting as…” 

 “I do care.” He sounded sincere, lifting his bottle to his lips and foregoing the glass, too. “I know that kind of change is really stressful.” It is. 

 “Well, it sucks now, but it’s not all bad, because as an incentive for taking on the lead position, I get to represent Woodbury next week at this education fundraiser.” The look on his face changed as you spoke, flashing from interest to surprise and then back to impassive, the man staying quiet. Weird. “So I get to change out of this,” you gestured at your work outfit - a simple short-sleeved white button down and dark, ankle length jeans - “and into a nice dress.” You wrinkled your nose. “I just need to pick one out this weekend, but.” You took another drink. “Juliet’s going to be there, she was excited when I told her that I was going, too.” 

 “Are you talking about next Saturday?” You nodded, confirming. “Juliet’s not going, she had a scheduling conflict.” You watched Logan wet his lips, leaning back in. She told me the other day that she was … that’s weird. “So I’m going instead.” Oh. But Juliet said she was going to try to … “What? What’s that look for?” 

 “Juliet said she was going to make sure that she and I were at the same table, so that means …” He swore loudly, closing his eyes and reaching up to grip the back of his neck. Ok, well, clearly he doesn’t want to sit with … “Maybe she didn’t -”

 “No, I’m sure she did.” He gritted his teeth, then took a long drink of his beer. “And that’d be great, except for one thing.” What one thing? “Ariella’s coming in for it, she surprised me with that information today after telling me yesterday that she couldn’t .” 

 “Oh, that’s going to be fun.” You gulped back beer too, feeling the excitement that you’d had for the event waning. “A whole night of her making more comments about my sex life, and about you and I -” 

 “I’ll make sure we’re not sitting with you.” He sounded angry, shifting in his chair. “I’m not gonna put you through that at something you’re looking forward to, especially not something that you’re doing for work.” He reached across the table, touching the back of your hand. “It’s a lot of fun, and I don’t want to ruin it for you.” Yeah, well… it won’t be you ruining it. “I told you, though, you were at a lot of events with Juliet, this would have been another to add to the list.” Yeah, it’s funny how things work out. You pulled your hand back before you did something stupid and flipped it to take his. Can’t do that. 

 “Yeah, it would have.” He looked surprised that you’d pulled away from him, but didn’t comment on it. Wait a minute. “You said she told you today she was coming? Was this before or after you called me, Logan?” I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t think that this invitation was because he … 

 “Right before.” It hurt a little, knowing that he’d been upset by the other woman and  then called you, but at the same time, it surprised you. That means he thought that I’d be able to make him … “But it wasn’t just about next week, it was also because she …” He rubbed his forehead with one long finger. “C’mon, let’s go inside.” Surprised at the abrupt suggestion, you agreed, standing and picking up the bottle and unused glass, carrying both into the apartment and placing the glass onto the countertop before walking back to the couch, settling onto it. 

 Logan lowered himself down next to you, but he stayed sitting up, legs spread and the bottle held in one hand between them, head down. “Logan, is everything…” 

 “I’m getting fitted for a suit next week, for the event.” Ok, and? “My assistant came in to confirm the appointment, and told me that I also had a tux fitting for the wedding on the same day at the same place.” What? I didn’t know you … “Ari set it up. She… I guess she picked out her dress, and also picked out the tux she wants me to wear. But she didn’t even … I got mad, and so I called her to tell her I was pickin’ my own out, and it turned into an argument.” 

 “What does she want you to wear?” Though you were upset that the woman was attempting to take something else away from Logan, you were also curious. “And who’s her -” He glanced over at you, hair falling into his eyes. 

 “Donno about her dress. But … Brioni for me. So I mean…” He shrugged, a tiny smile appearing briefly on his lips. “Could be worse, I guess, but still, she didn’t let me … if I’m gonna do this, I at least want some control over …” I get it. He trailed off, and you allowed yourself a few seconds to imagine Logan in a tux, but as soon as your mind moved to Ariella in a wedding dress, you cleared your throat. No. 

 “Why is it such a big deal to her? What you wear, I mean? And you don’t need to get it tailored this soon, do you? It’s months away, and -”

 “That’s what I said. But she … she thinks that because she picked a dress, me going into a place like that is good press.” He huffed, breath escaping his lips in a loud whoosh. “And she said that there’d be cameras there, people waiting to see me and take pictures of…” 

 “Is this whole thing a PR stunt for her, Logan? Does it ever end?” You spoke before you could stop yourself, and at the swing of his head toward you, you widened your eyes, taking a long gulp of your beer. Oops. “I mean, I -”

 “Yeah, it is. She’s gonna use this relationship as long as she can. That’s why I was so damn careful to include the amicable divorce clause in there. She would have made me - and Delos - look terrible otherwise, like it was my fault entirely that the marriage failed, even though we knew it was gonna be that way from the beginning. I couldn’t let that happen.” You can’t let a lot of things happen, Logan. “I’ll admit that when I was younger? Seeing myself online or in the magazines was exciting. I liked knowing that people were talking about me, that they cared what I did, or what Juliet did. And then they took it too far, publishing shit about my mom and dad, about my mom’s death, about Juliet an’ me… and it wasn’t the fun stuff, it was … it hurt. My lifestyle was one thing. I was with a lot of people in a short period of time, and it was what it was.” 

 “Logan, I don’t even know what it …” You didn’t know what to say, or how you’d react to your anonymity being stolen. “It’s toned down in the last couple years, right? You’re… well, I mean there’s the Ariella stuff, but besides that, it’s all about Delos, about the things you’ve been doing with -” 

 “It is. Now. I worked hard to make sure of that.” He settled back against the cushions of the couch, stretching one arm over the back of it and behind where you sat. “I told you before that Jim’s a shitty dad, but the one good thing he’s done for me recently, aside from giving me the chance to prove to him that I can lead Delos?” Logan looked over at you, expression serious. “He was honest with me. Said that my mom would have been really fucking disappointed in me, and even if I didn’t give a shit about myself, I should think about that.” 

 “Oh, Logan.” You winced. “He -”

 “No, it was a good thing. I needed to hear it. It didn’t help right away because I had a lot of shit to get over, but … it stuck. And then when I started appearing on news shows, and talking at conferences and actually staying sober for investor meetings and trips into the parks?” Logan wet his lips. “I liked those headlines. It wasn’t about who I was fucking, or where I was on a bender, or what I looked like while I was healin’ from …” He closed his eyes, wrinkling his nose. “It was for the shit I wanted to be doing. Building the brand. Making a name for myself that had nothing to do with me blowing a hundred grand in Miami in a weekend, or who was pissed at me, or what rehab I checked out of.” You winced at his words, realizing that if Logan had been candid with you in the past, he was being downright open with you that night. “And then we got engaged, and it’s been back to the gossipy bullshit, but it’s all positive, so…” 

 You moved closer to him on the couch, twisting and leaning one shoulder against the back cushion so that you could face him. “Have you talked with her about the fact that you … don’t want your entire relationship to play out on camera?” Deciding to speak quickly, you continued. “I mean she’s clearly not going to stop entirely, but there has to be a compromise, right? There can’t be a part of your contract that requires you to … make yourself available 24/7. I mean, you’re a Delos, and you’re in charge, so you can’t avoid some of it, but … people seem alright with not knowing everything, so maybe she …” 

 “No, she wants it. She’s afraid that if she’s not in the spotlight, people will… forget about her? I don’t know. For her, the attention is worth the loss of privacy, even though it makes it much fucking harder for my team to keep…” He paused, eyeing you. “Fuck it. She craves this attention, but then gets pissed when photographers catch her doing shit she shouldn’t be. It’s happened multiple times, even after we got engaged. We’ve had to buy the rights to pictures of her hanging all over someone, or walking into and out of a hotel with them, or…” That’s such bullshit, Logan. So fucking … how could she? 

 “You know, Logan, the more you tell me about her?” You let out a quiet chuckle, but it was sarcastic. “The more I just wonder how … what even made you interested in her in the first place. I know you said that you weren’t always thinking clearly in the beginning, and she’s really pretty, but I guess … I don’t know, it seems like you don’t really make it a habit of going back to … but you did with her.” 

 “Wow.” He narrowed his eyes at you. “You really just …” I did. And I don’t regret it. You’re the one that wanted to be friends with me, and this is … “Before I answer, can I ask you something?” 

 “Yes.” You lifted one leg, tucking it beneath your other thigh and bending the arm that was against the back of the couch, propping your head up. “Of course.” What could he possibly… 

 “Are you this direct with everyone, or just with me?” At the shocked expression on your face, he laughed. “What? You’re not the only one that’s gonna ask the tough questions.” No, I shouldn’t be. “I guess I just wanna know if you’re being harder on me than you would on someone else.” Answer. You owe him an explanation, especially since you asked something like… 

 “Logan, I …” 

 --- 

 Is she going to answer, or give me some bullshit … “I’m treating you like I would anyone else, Logan. You don’t get a pass because you’re… you.” You lifted your shoulders in a small shrug. “Just because I like you doesn’t mean you get to get away with …” He grinned, closing his eyes. Good. That’s all I … “Isn’t that what we agreed on?” He watched your eyes move over his face, a slight hint of worry in them. Yes. Logan nodded at you, and without thinking about it, moved his hand from the back of the couch, letting his fingers rest on your shoulder. Though you glanced down, you didn’t say anything, instead looking back at him. “Well?” 

 Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, Logan’s mind drifted from Ariella to the conversation you’d had after Juliet’s, setting the ground rules for your friendship. No conversational topics were off limits, unless it was something that he couldn’t talk about because of work or because of the NDA, even though you knew most of it. You’d agreed to sign an agreement if he wanted you to, to ensure that the arrangement stayed a secret, but Logan hadn’t felt it was necessary. She wouldn’t say anything, I … the fact that she offered is enough. General touching was fine - hugs, hands, a kiss on the cheek or the top of the head - but both of you agreed that there couldn’t be any additional actual kissing, despite the fact that he knew it had pained you to suggest that - and then stick to it. That part’s a goddamn … He swallowed, thinking of the way he’d gone straight from Juliet’s to Delos HQ on the way home, pulling one of the female Hosts into a private room and getting his frustration out. I had to, I was so wound up, it was … He watched you, thinking. It helped, but it didn’t … it wasn’t… these past few weeks have … Shaking his head to clear it, Logan returned  to your question. “I liked her because she was like me. Because she knew what it was like to grow up like I had.” He squeezed your shoulder. “Too much goddamn money, too few people telling us no.” 

 “I understand that, Logan.” The hand that wasn’t propping your head up was resting on your thigh, and he saw you rub the material of your jeans, a frown on your face. “So did you think you were just going to be friends, or that she was going to become a regular partner, or what? I guess I …” 

 “I was a piece of shit back then.” He sucked air through his teeth. “You would have hated me, and it wouldn’t have mattered, because all I woulda been doing was trying to get you in bed.” See? I can be real honest, too. “With her? I didn’t have to worry about that, because she was the same way. I was still learning my limits - going from casually using during college and right after to full blown … well, let’s just …” He gritted his teeth. “If I wasn’t high, I was fucking someone, because I didn’t have to think  about what happened to me, or what was going to happen to me while we were in bed. Delos wasn’t my biggest priority. My next high was.” You think you wanna hear this shit, but I’m sure you won’t soon enough.

 “Juliet … Juliet said that she was worried about losing you, Logan. That things got so bad for you that … something happened with her ex, and you didn’t … care what happened to you.” She doesn’t want to say any of this, but she’s not … she’s not trying to avoid it, either.

 “She did worry. And they did get bad. Something did happen with William, and for a while I …” Logan pressed his lips together to the point of pain and then sighed. “I wanted to die. I thought it would be easier, that it would be better. Ariella was a distraction from that, a way to … she wasn’t a Host. She wasn’t someone random, it was familiar, and I…” Without lifting his hand from your arm, he used the other one to scrub it over his beard. “I got used to it. It wasn’t anything serious, but it was kind of nice to be able to … have someone, you know?” He’d never explained his relationship with Ariella to anyone in depth before - not even Juliet. This is so goddamn strange. So… “But then I decided that I didn’t want to live like that anymore, and I went to rehab. It didn’t stick the first time, and I left early. Juliet supported me at first, but when I left? She said that she couldn’t have me around Em if I wasn’t going to …” 

 “How bad was it, Logan?” You spoke softly, eyes on him. “You, I mean? How bad were …” 

 “You really haven’t seen the pictures? There were so many of ‘em, of me in Hollywood, me with a buncha different people, looking like -” 

 “No.” You cut him off. “I mean I’m sure I’ve seen some of them, but I don’t remember ever specifically reading anything about you … like that.” 

 ‘I was a mess. Probably twenty five pounds lighter, my hair was …” He thought back to the pictures of him from that time period; beard overgrown and unkempt, hair greasy and at times, the ends grazing the base of his neck, eyes constantly glassy and dull. “To be honest, I don’t know why she was still interested in sleepin’ with me, because there’s no goddamn way I -” 

 “Logan.” You took a deep breath. “I can think of a lot of reasons why she would have …” You forced a smile. “And none of them have anything to do with the way you look or the way you are in bed.” He’d thought the same thing, too, once he’d gotten clean and seen the way Ariella treated him, the way that she would flaunt her family’s wealth and status to everyone else, yet expect Logan to handle financials whenever they were together, the way she never quite asked how Logan was, instead trying to get a feel - through Juliet, too - about Delos. And that’s why I started to pull away, why I… 

 “Yeah, I know, it’s my personality, right? I’m kinda charming.” He winked at you, but couldn’t keep the sadness from his voice, watching as your expression changed too, hurt in your eyes. She sees it and she’s met Ari once. 

 “Logan, that … you are, but …” I know. 

 “No, you mean money, and you’re probably right. It would have worked out for her either way, I guess. If she was the one I was seen with most often, and she was publicly there for me when I was getting clean, she looked like a supportive … girlfriend. And then if she stayed around after, too, it was like she’d been a part of my …” His lip curled. “Even though she had nothing to fucking do with it.” 

 “Of course she didn’t.” You reached over, squeezing his knee, then leaving your hand there. “It was all you, Logan.” You drew the corner of your lip into your mouth. “If she was clean too, do you think … do you think things would be different?” That’s a good question. 

 “At the beginning, I did. I thought maybe if she saw that I was much happier and healthier, and more capable sober? She’d want to do the same, and we could see what happened. But I got better, and she just kept … she didn’t change. And I saw the real Ari, so I started… well, I went back to the other people, tried to focus on work. I was still with her occasionally, you know? Because we did some business together, and it just kind of … from there, her parents and Jim got involved, and here we are.” He looked up at his ceiling. “I thought that if we got engaged, maybe things would change. That she’d want to clean up and get straight with my help, but she has no reason to. She’s never had the threat of losing her job, losing her … losing everything hanging over her head like I have. And so she sees no -”

 “Do you think she’s going to stop once you get married?” Your hand was still on his leg, Logan very aware of the weight of it, the warmth. No. I know she won’t, but the difference is that she’ll be doing this shit under my roof. “The … the sex she has to, because the two of you will be … but the drugs? The -” 

 “I hope she will. But what’s that saying? Hope in one hand and shit in the other, see which fills up faster?” He lowered his head. “I told you before, this is all my own doing. I’m here - right now, in this situation - because I fucked everything up. I embarrassed myself and Delos, and my family, and now I … what’s three fucking years? I spent that much time high as a goddamn -” 

 “It’s three more years where you can’t be happy, Logan. Three more years of pretending to … to have everything you want.” You leaned in, Logan’s hand slipping over the back of your shoulder. “Three less years of -” He leaned in closer, angling his head and aiming for your mouth, but at your whispered “no” he stopped. The fuck are you doing, Logan? Before he could straighten up, Logan felt both of your hands on his face, thumbs stroking over his cheeks. “I think I get it, Logan. You were drawn to her because she wasn’t just a random person. You being with her made sense, even in a non-committed way, and that’s why you went back, because it … there’s some connection there. I know there is. And maybe she’ll see it when you live together.” How is she saying this right now? How is she …  “I hope she does, Logan. I hope you …” 

 “Do you?” I need to know. I need to hear what you … He was pushing it; testing the limits of your honesty, testing you again, but he couldn’t help it. “Do you really want to think about me with -”

 “No.” You squeezed your eyes shut, pulling your hands away from his face and clasping them together in your lap. “No, because I don’t think she’s a nice person, and I think that she’s going to do whatever she can to get whatever she can out of this and out of you. And I think that because of a conversion that Juliet and I had about her the day of the pool party, and another one when you were gone on that first trip with your new clients.” What? “I think your sister … there’s something she’s still trying to make up for, with you, and that means she’s paying attention, even more closely now.” 

 “Jules is … she’s pretty much all I’ve got. Her and Em. My father’s better now, but it won’t … I won’t ever …” 

 “I know. She told me that too. But Logan, Juliet wants to see you happy and healthy and successful, and she’s never said that you being with Ariella is going to help you with any of that. She basically said the opposite, and that worries me.” He knew that Juliet hated the situation, but hearing that Juliet had also spilled that to you surprised him. 

 “Two out of three isn’t bad, though, right?” 

 “You trying to convince me or yourself?” Again, she has a point. It’s the right … 

 He straightened up, reaching out to take your hands in his. “Like I said to you the other day, I never thought I’d get marred at all. I’m not the type of guy that needs that kind of relationship, so I guess that doing this … it doesn’t mean as much, so I don’t feel like I’m losing as much. Look at my mom and dad. Look at Juliet. They prove that getting married isn’t exactly something permanent. So what’s a couple years? 

 “Who are you trying to convince, Logan?” You squeezed his hands. “You might not have thought you’d get married, but it’s gotta hurt that you’re going to go through with a wedding and the planning and spending all that money and time, and you already know it’s going to end.” Pausing, you arched an eyebrow. “I don’t care who you are, that sucks.” It does. “I didn’t mean for this to turn into…” He watched as you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. “Logan, the truth is that what I think doesn’t matter. This has nothing to do with me. You’re going to marry her, and you’re going to follow through on the contract you agreed to, because that’s who you are. You know what you’re doing, and -” 

 He tightened his hold on your hands, listening not only to your words, but how you said them. She’s definitely convincing herself. “I do. I know what I’m doing, and what I agreed to. I understand the terms of the deal, and what it means if they get broken.” 

 “What does happen, Logan?” He heard you sniff quietly, averting your eyes. “If one of you were to break the terms, or try to back out?” Another good question. He said your name, waiting until you’d looked up. 

 “If, for example one of us were to let out to the wrong person that this was a business deal and not a real relationship? That it’s a stunt? And then that person were to tell someone else? There’s a financial penalty. A huge one.” One that I could easily pay right now, but … “And then the fallout from that; both companies looking bad, looking like we were trying to trick everyone. It ruins credibility, ruins what we’ve worked so hard to create with Delos over the years.” He swallowed. “And it doesn’t just hurt me, it would hurt Juliet, too. And Em. And the future of Delos.” He sighed. “And Ari, too. Her family, her company, their future.” But she doesn’t seem to … she’s still… “And there’s another penalty if one of us tries to just … back out, too, before or after we get married.” Unless what Jules and I talked about today has any merit. “But in that case?” He leaned in again, head shaking back and forth. “The one that didn’t back out also gets to come out on top, and it’d be …”

 “They’d blame you. If you wanted to back out, they’d get to … trash Delos. Trash your reputation, make it -” Bingo. 

 “My father’s … this is a lesson. This is the most exhausting fucking lesson he’s ever tried to…” Logan stopped, staring at your hands and the way they looked held in his. “And you’re right, this doesn’t have anything to do with you, except now it does, because you know what’s going on.” And it feels good to talk about it, feels… “But I think I … I started this thinking that maybe Ariella and I could be alright with each other, that even if I was sober, things could go back to how they’d been in the beginning where we liked each other and got along.” He took a deep breath. “When I didn’t resent the shit out of her.” That’s the first time I’ve ever said that to anyone. 

 “Oh, Logan.” You pulled your hands out of his and leaned all the way in, arms going around his neck to hug him tightly. “I just feel…” He held you, arms winding around your body, Logan’s eyes closing. “Damn.” The two of you stayed like that for long seconds, the faint sounds of the air conditioning unit the only noise in the room. There was nothing overly affectionate or sexual about the way you were touching him, but Logan felt closer to you than he had even when he’d had his hands and mouth on you. Why? Why is … “How are you going to get through this, Logan? Three years of … it’s going to get worse.” I know it is. But I hope … 

 “I won’t be alone.” He felt your breath hit his neck, just above the collar of his shirt. “I’ve got Juliet and Em, and I’ll have to travel for work, I’ll have …” He trailed off, thoughts going to the future, to the events he’d have to attend for work, Ariella at his side as his expected date. I didn’t even consider … He began running through the yearly Delos events, the places he’d need to be, the ones she’d be at with him, the way that his accomplishments would become theirs. “Oh, fuck.” He froze, eyes springing open, and he felt you do the same, pulling your head back so that you could look at him. “I won’t ever be alone.” 

 He watched the realization flicker in your eyes, too, and then saw your shoulders slump - but you never looked away from him. She’s taking this … “No, you won’t.” He watched you press your lips together briefly, then force a small smile, the fingers of one hand moving through the hair at the nape of his neck. She’s breaking the… But he didn’t want you to stop, instead just waiting for you to continue. “You’ll have Em and Juliet. You’ll have work. You’ll have your clients.” Your lips twitched, one eye briefly narrowing into an almost wink. “And you’ll have me. To -”

 “Yeah, but not …” He stopped himself, knowing that he had to choose his words carefully. Not the way I want to have you. He’d almost let it slip out, the words on the tip of his tongue before he’d realized it. Oh, Goddamn. Shit. Fuck. “Not as often.” He could tell that you knew he’d kept something from you, but didn’t ask what, instead just agreeing. 

 “Yeah, but Logan, friends don’t abandon each other.” Letting out a breath, you shrugged, hands still on him. “And unless your wife says something about the woman she thinks was sleeping with her husband still being his friend, I -” She’s never going to tell me who I can or can’t talk to. “I’ll be here for you to vent to, whenever you need.” He reached up, fingers circling your forearms and pulling your hands away from his neck, lowering them back into your lap. 

 “I’m gonna hold you to that.” He managed a grin, still watching you. “But I don’t know if that makes me … makes this better or worse.” You looked surprised but didn’t question it, just agreeing, and for the first time, Logan was absolutely certain that you cared about him in a way that was decidedly more than friendly, more than just a physical attraction. She get it. Gets me, gets … this even if … The two of you were setting yourself up for a disaster; he knew it, because he felt it, felt the emotion building up in his chest each time he spoke to you, the sensation almost overwhelming when he was with you. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I wasn’t ever going to … feel something for someone, especially now. Especially with Ari and the next three and a half years planned out. Unless … 

 “You alright, Logan?” He felt your thumbs stroking over the insides of his wrists, the motion slow and rhythmic. “You look like you’re -”

 “I will be.” Does she mean it? Would she really stay around and watch me with … “Eventually.” Instead of pulling your hands away from his arms, you tightened your hold on him, the frown reappearing on your lips. I think she might. 

 ---

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[jtsfavslut]

The Less I Know the Better

Description: In which Grayson sees the love of his life move on, at least that’s what he thought. Based on the overplayed song by wanna be indie TikTok girls ‘The Less I Know The Better’ by Tame Impala.

Warnings: None really

Word Count: 2k+

Suggested Song: The Less I Know the Better - Tame Impala

It hurt.

All Grayson was feeling was pain and guilt.

Pain because he loved her and had to see her walking around and be happy with another man that wasn’t him. And guilt. Well, he felt guilty because it’s his fault she’s no longer his. If only he could’ve kept his dick in his pants, he would be the one with her now, even if it wasn’t completely his fault.

Too deep in his thoughts he didn’t realize that she was walking over to him and that he was staring like a lost puppy.

“Hi Grayson,” her dreamy and angelic voice spoke, making Grayson regret coming to the mall.

“Hey Y/N,” he replied. His deep voice making her remember all the good times they spent together. All the time he made her feel good, and not just about herself. All the time he would vent to her and she would sit and listen.

“How are you doing? How’s Ethan doing?” She asked him, trying not to be as awkward as she could. She doesn’t know why she walked over to him, she doesn’t know why she needed to talk to him but here she was; Talking to her ex trying to pretend as if nothing happened.

“I’m good, and he’s alight, how bout’ you tho? You seem happy,” he asked and regretted it instantly as he watched her face drop the smile that was being displayed.

“Happy? No. Calm? You could say that,” she said with a chuckle at the end. He wanted to ask her what she meant. Ask her if she needed someone to talk to, but he didn’t want to push it.

“I don’t know what you mean but sure,” he replied causing her to let out a little giggle.

“You know what I mean Grayson,” she said, shaking her head. “I just don’t know how to tell him.” She said, the sad tone in her voice causing Grayson to frown.

“Oh god, I can’t talk to you about this, that's weird,” she slightly shouted, realizing what she was talking about and to whom she was talking to.

“It’s fine Y/N, you know I’ll always be there for you,” he replied in which she responded with a smile.

“Me too Gray, actually I got a new phone and number and my ICloud got locked out so you know I don’t have any contacts so slide me your number if you want.” She said with a smile making his heart perform a gymnastics freestyle performance.

“Yeah here,” he said, handing her his phone. She was about to grab it when a loud and angry voice spoke from beside them.

“Y/N what the fuck are you doing?” Her un-official boyfriend's loud voice spoke, making her face display pure fear.

“Nothing Geo, I’m just talking to an old friend,” she nervously spoke, knowing that if he knew she was talking to her ex-boyfriend it would not end pretty.

“I told you to stay over there, not to go hoeing around,” he shouted at her, not realizing that Graysons fists were clenched in anger. He was not only upset that he was talking to her in such ways, but upset because the fear in her eyes was pretty evident.

“Don’t speak to her like that,” Grayson said in a deep voice, grabbing her and placing her being her.

“And who are you?” Geo asked in a sarcastic tone.

“A guy who knows how to speak to a girl, which clearly is not a thing in your life,” he responded with a careless shrugged. He wasn't intimated one bit, he already knew the type of guy he was, an all talk, no action douche.

“Yeah right, Y/N let’s go,” he replied rolling his eyes.

“No. I’m not going anywhere with your ass, were not even officially dating,” she replied, walking in front of Grayson to show she wasn’t scared of him.

“Y/N, lets go. Don't make me move you the hard way,” he said and grabbed his arm, digging his finger into it, before a hard punch from Grayson made contact with his fist making him let go of her arm and stumble back.

“Again, don’t talk to her that way,” he said grabbing her arm and pulling her out of the store ignoring the looks the people were giving them.

“Are you ok?” She asked looking up at him with glossy eyes, the same look she gave him when he told her what he had done.

“Are you ok? He said putting emphasis on you. He knew she was the type to worry about others before herself, one of the things he loved about her the most.

“I’m ok, it’s probably just gonna bruise up,” she shrugged and wiped the few tears that streamed down her face with a deep breath. “Do you want to go eat something and talk? I know we have a lot to talk about,” she asked him and he nodded his head.

They ended up choosing a small little restaurant that was across the mall.

“I need to ask you something.” She said as the waiter left after leaving their drinks at the table.

“What is it?” He said putting his phone in his pocket since he wanted to give her his full and undivided attention.

“About what happened with that situation, I know that there’s something I’m not aware of. It doesn’t add up to me, because I know you’re not that type of guy,” she quietly said, Grayson knew she was going ask that at some point but it still made him feel worse.

“You might not believe me but someone slipped something in my water, you know I don’t drink, and I purposely wouldn’t get drunk, all I remember is taking multiple sips from my cup and waking up on the floor.” He replied while playing with his fingers, a thing that he did when he was nervous, the only one that knew he did that was her.

“I know you don’t drink which was why I was confused. I was too caught up in my emotions to even let you explain and now I feel horrible.” She pouted making him shake his head.

“Don’t feel horrible. I betrayed your trust even if it wasn’t purposely. And I would probably have reacted the same way,” he reassured her and grabbed her hand in attempts to make her feel better.

“I still feel bad. You were literally sexually assaulted and I was too petty to even realize it,” she said and intertwined her fingers with his, both of their hearts jumping up and down with excitement and the feeling of each other.

“Hey don’t worry about it, I’m ok. And again how were you supposed to know, you were feeling hurt and angry,” he said, she was so glad he was so understanding.

“Ok now that we’ve cleared the air, I heard E has a little boo thang,” she said causing him to chuckle.

“Yeah she’s pretty nice, you know her too,” he said causing her eyes to widen.

[Okay listen, I’m not gonna name any names because I don’t want to speculate things even tho it’s pretty obvious as to who took Mr.Grants heart from y’all and I’ve been shipping it ever since that video cuz fuck Ethma literally eww 🤮 but yeah]

“Ooooo, we’ll talk about that later,” she replied, taking a sip of her drink. “I dropped out of college,” she added as Grayson and her confused look.

“Why?” He asked.

“I don’t know, it just wasn’t for me. At least not that major. Well I didn’t drop out completely I’m just taking a long break. And between you and me, with this Instagram and TikTok money, I don’t even need to finish,” she replied causing him to laugh.

“That’s true tho, you don’t even need to get a ‘regular’ job” he replied putting air quotes on the regular.

POV CHANGE

“Yeah, I might drop out completely. I don’t even want to be a surgeon anymore” you shrugged.

“Honestly do what makes you happy, because I remember you got really stressed out while studying and that’s not good for you,” he replied.

“And you get stressed out while coming up with video ideas, but yeah” you said, causing him to shake his head.

“Gray, I’m so sorry but I need to go. I have a doctors appointment in an hour and I would cancel it if I could but that would make it my third time rescheduling it.” You said with a pout once you checked the time on your phone.

You didn’t want to stop talking to him at all. You missed him, his voice, his face, you missed everything about him. You hadn't seen him in 3 months and the last time you saw him wasn’t rainbows and sunshine. But if you cancelled your appointment you would have to get a new doctor and you weren’t in the mood for that, plus you’ve been feeling a bit sick for the last few weeks.

“Hey it’s ok, we can talk again later,” he shrugged with a smile making you feel less guilty.

“Ok, just text me later and we can link yeah?” You replied, getting up and leaving a five dollar bill on the table.

“I will,” he said, getting up too.

“Good, don’t leave me waiting,” you said and placed a quick kiss on his cheek and left the restaurant with a smile on your face and made your way to your car.

You went home first taking a quick shower because you didn’t want to go to the doctor’s office feeling dirty, got dressed and left, stopping at Starbucks to get a drink and drove all the way to the office.

You were feeling anxious but you didn’t know why. You weren’t the type to get nervous when going to doctors or dentists so you were confused as to why.

When they called your name you got up from your seat in the waiting room and made your way to the door where the lady who called your name was at.

“Ok Y/N, I’m going to ask you a few personal questions are you ok with that?” Your doctor asked once you got settled inside the room.

“No, I’m fine,” you nodded your head and she sent you a smile.

“Good. So you said you were feeling a bit weird these past few weeks?” She asked and you nodded your head.

“Yeah, I haven’t had my period in the last few months, but it’s always been irregular, but I’ve been feeling weird and lightheaded in the mornings.” You explained as she nodded her head and wrote things down on a piece of paper.

“Any Nausea?” She asked and you shook your head.

“When was the last time you were sexually active to had unprotected sex?” She asked.

“About three months ago,” you replied. You didn’t lie, Grayson was your last. You met Geo about a month ago and never did anything with him, and didn’t plan too either.

You don’t even know why you decided to give him a try. He was controlling, sexist, and a douche. The complete opposite of Grayson. Grayson was more caring and compassionate. Always wondering whether you were ok and if you needed something.

He was your first everything. First boyfriend, as in first male friend, your first kiss, your first boyfriend, the person that took your virginity and the only person you fell in love with. He was your first for over 14 years so when he told you that he fucked another girl, you couldn’t help but be driven by your emotions and not let him explain, which you regretted. You were crushed, for two months you only left your apartment to get food or to go on drives so when you met Geo at a grocery store and he seemed charming you decided that maybe you had to move on, but look at how that turned out.

“I’m going to have you pee in this container, just to make sure, ok?” She said, causing your anxiety levels to rise.

You nodded you and head and grabbed the cup, walking over to the bathroom while she waited outside for you. After you were done, you washed your hands and exited the bathroom, handing her the cup with shaky hands.

“It’s ok, relax,” she said, noticing your nervous star and walking outside the room leaving you alone with your thoughts.

The seven minutes she took to come back seemed like seven hours, and when she came in with a smile on her face you didn’t know what to think. Your mind was completely empty.

“Congratulations Y/N, you’re pregnant!”

This sucks ass I’m sorry

Tags: @angelgrayson @rhyrhy462 @blindedbythelightt @dolansficsandpics @godlydolans @persistence-ofmemories @episkygrant @aquadolan @wavydolans @evergreendolan @vinylhazza @b-r-i-l @mercurygrant @plantbasedgray @dolansontheblock

[samwrights]

Inked [Kuroo]

@tamcitrus thank you so much for this request bb! And thank you so much for your support with Elixir, it means so so much to me! If you haven’t checked out Elixir yet, folks, the link is right [ here ] for ya.

This ended up being way longer than I anticipated and is slightly NSFW. Warning for language!

Also, I kinda had a good laugh writing this one. My most recent tattoo is a hand one and MAN that sucked. I have to get the knuckles touched up too 🙃 which this whole story reminds me...I gotta book an appointment with my artist.

It started out with a genuine to desire—Kuroo wanted a few simple tattoos. A few on his arm, maybe two on his chest or so. But two became an entire piece from his collar bones to his hips, and a few became a traditional, Van Gogh-esque type artwork until both arms came to match.

Kuroo is unsure of what he loves more, your work or the way your hands feel on him, even if they are dragging hot needles into his skin.

He never anticipated migrating the artwork up to his neck or onto his hands and knuckles, but as it’s happening, he’s unsure which one gives him greater satisfaction. With his hands, your fingers were intermittently grabbing at his own, trying to make the skin more accessible as you pounded the ink in. When trying to do the tips of leaves that were a part of the rose on his hand, you were concerned that he was going to flinch away from the needle. No matter how high a person’s pain tolerance was, the knuckles sucked.

Kuroo hadn’t even noticed, too enthralled by conversation with you. Over the years and sessions with you as his sole tattoo artist, he learned many things about you. Of course, there was the typical shop small talk, “how long have you been tattooing” or “what do you do for work”. But even so, Kuroo knew many things.

Like how you started your apprenticeship at twenty and now, for the last three years, you co-owned a shop with a buddy. He knew that being able to get an appointment with you was almost next to impossible—Kuroo typically had to book months in advance. At one point, you no longer accepted walk-ins. For professional reasons, it was due to not having adequate time to service your clients that had scheduled for you and had paid a deposit already. Kuroo knew it was because you were tired of tattooing infinity symbols on freshly turned ladies.

Learning the more secretive parts of your character was like an adventure he never knew he wanted to take. The first in-depth part of yourself that you revealed, entirely without meaning to, was how much of a perfectionist you are. Unfortunately, Kuroo learned it the hard way with a machine in your hand, digging highlights repeatedly in the realistic rose you had just finished on his neck.

“Okay, okay. That fucking hurts, I’m sure it looks great.” Despite trying to come off as commanding, Kuroo’s words came like weak pleas. Partially from being in pain, partially because he didn’t wanna move too much that it would disturb your work.

“Oh please, you like it.”

Well, you’re not wrong.

Another trait he witnessed first-hand is that you were adamant and ruthless—supposedly due to being an owner of the shop. Kuroo’s not convinced though and he believes it to be a part of your personality. The first time he had seen you so cold was awkward and, ironically enough, was also the same day you tattooed his neck.

Your previously scheduled appointment hadn’t shown up for an hour. Kuroo liked to come pretty early, mostly to make sure he’s got food in his system and he’s gotten his nicotine cravings curbed. He also brought you lunch, knowing you pretty much never left your studio. Even after having lunch together that day, your appointment hadn’t shown nearly two hours later. Kuroo wasn’t due for another hour, but after eating and getting cleaned up, you had moved on and started prepping for his piece instead. After mentally preparing himself for the needles that were going to be dancing along his neck, your client that had blown you off walks up the stairs, “all ready to go” or so he said.

“I’m sorry, you’ll need to reschedule your appointment downstairs.” At first, your tone is polite and friendly as always, but you’re focused on your work.

“I already booked an appointment with you? Why else would I be here?”

“And you were late, whereas my next client was early.”

“Do I at least get my deposit back?”

“Non-refundable.” At this, you point to the sign you had plastered on the wall just above your sinks. Your only two rules. No refunds and no dates.

“I want my fucking money back.”

“Yeah?” You snort. “And I want the two hours back of my time that you wasted. Which, need I remind you, your deposit only equates to an hour of my time. You’re lucky I don’t charge you double, now get the fuck outta my shop.”

Kuroo would have laughed if your hands were pressed around his neck.

So far, the most intimate details he’d learned hadn’t really been all that deep. Or rather, they didn’t seem like it to those that were looking from the outside. Considering Kuroo was in a band, it was obvious to both of you that music played a big part in his life. Knowing about a person’s favorite songs and bands tells a lot about them. It was easy for Kuroo to decipher, beyond conversation, since you always had music playing in the background as you worked. It’s not deep if you don’t know what to look for, Kuroo muses.

But he notices the way your eyes change with every song. Lately, the mood has been The Story So Far. You knew every song, every album, and every line. Though there were some that were only followed with delicate mouthing and whispers of singing along, there were others that were much more distinct when passing you lips. To Kuroo, that meant that those lines hit harder.

I wanna see why you love her

Why you’re good for each other.

“So why the no dating rule?” He asks, pulling himself from his reminiscing, as you’re starting the coloring on the tattoo at hand, pun intended. Kuroo is more than comfortable with you, sharing secrets he had only shared with his band.

“Boyfriends always try to get free shit,” you grumble out, accidentally pressing a little too hard into his wrist.

“So, does that mean if I ask you to dinner, you’ll say no?”

“...no.” Of course you wouldn’t. For the last three years since he started coming to the shop, you’d wanted nothing more than to cancel all your appointments and fuck him on your client chair. But the better part of you said no, not thinking he was going to entrust you with decorating his body for years. Naturally, lust grew into something more.

“No, as in yes? Or no, as in no.”

“No, as in no dating, Kuroo.”

“Soooo, are we skipping straight to the part where I fuck you into the ground or the part where I just marry you?”

Wanna see a specific character? Or a different head cannon? Want to see a whole story?

Send in requests!

[lovesaadiqa]

BBL Costs, Prep + Recovery

Im booked!!  I talked to a few friends who I know either got this surgery or is getting this done.  I wanted one since forever but I wanted my teeth done first.  The deciding factor came down to my birthday plans.  

Originally I was going to do a birthday tour.  First weekend of October in Miami for carnival, 2nd weekend in Atl for Freak Nik, 3rd weekend in Bahamas and finally Nola for the finale.  Well Nola was just hit with a storm so yeah that’s out. Once I totaled up the flights, hotels, food and spending money.. I was like hmm, I can get a fat ass and started this process.  Immediately looked into surgeon and Dr. Pena was my favorite, his bodies come out so mf snatched, he’s located in Columbia.  Columbian surgeons can take out way more fat than American doctors however, the fatality rate is stupid and ultimately the factor that made me choose an American doctor.  

The next step was choosing the surgeon for the body I have and the one I want.  I weigh 151 and im 5′6″ I’m considered a “skinny bbl”.  I started researching doctors in Atlanta (so I could recover at home) and Miami (like duh).  I chose to go with Dr. Desouza in Miami with CG Cosmetics for a few reasons.  First, I love the look of his skinny bbl’s on other women with the same body type, weight and height as me.  Secondly, he was having a special for the end of the year (lipo 360, bbl, jplasma for $6500 for the surgeon I wanted) this almost sold me but it was the surgery date!!  Jplasma is skin tightening procedure to help with loose skin, you can only get this with lipo.  When they perform lipo they created canals under your skin to remove the fat.. well those same canals are essential when getting Jplasma.

Ok so I decided on the surgeon, contacted the cosmetic group and had a consultation which is pretty much just front, side and back view pictures.. I think they use this to make sure you don’t need a tummy tuck prior to surgery.  They also asked me questions about previous surgeries and if i’ve ever had anesthesia.  The next step went pretty quickly, we talked about what would be lipo’d (abs, waist, back.. I wanted inner thighs, an additional 2k, but was advised to wait on my pre-op to decide), when I wanted to book and how I'd pay.  My consult was on August 30th.. I bitched up when she attempted to take my payment.  I am a money hoarder and spending that much money made me feel like I was being financially irresponsible.  I called one of my Aunt’s who I felt wouldn’t judge me and also give me sound advise.  We talked about my fears, why I was getting the procedure and of course money.  My Aunt gave me excellent advice, reassured me and is a professional CNA who offered to accompany me so yeah I dare not turn that down, lol.  August 31, 2021, I called my coordinator (the contact between me and my surgeon) and told her I wanted to book, she asked me when I’d be ready and I requested first available which was 9/20/21!! Excited is an understatement.. I'd be 24 days post op on my birthday.  After I calmed down I paid in full for multiple reasons:  had to in order to secure the date, all surgeries book in this year had to be paid in full, it was the only way to get the discount.. My coordinator gave me so much information I couldn’t see straight (I was also high as shit off life thinking about a fat ass and me in the same sentence).. she emailed + texted everything, congratulated me and we hung up.

I get the emails:  “raise you hemoglobin with these vitamins” I purchased vitamin C $2, folic acid $2, iron $3 and floradix $35 - amazon, I take them as directed on the bottle and start eating my ass off (just to give my surgeon more to work with, lol).  Talking to one of my gf’s I realize I have to be cleared for surgery?!?!  What?  I open my email and sure enough I have to have blood work done 15-20 prior to surgery, it was 9/3 and a Friday.. SHIT!! I fly over to an Piedmont Wellstreet urgent care facility as recommended by my friend (she started this process as well so I was crazy grateful for her experience and that she shared it with me).  Urgent care was full but opened the next day, my ass was in that line at 7:32 am, I was the 13th person in line and they opened at 8.  I get to the desk and my appointment is at 10:30 and I'd have to pay the office visit fee to be seen, it was $155.  I came back at my allotted time and was told how much all of my labs would be.. $302.  My labs were to be processed and faxed to my surgeon by 9/9 because Labor Day weekend so.. yeah.  

I discuss accommodations with my Aunt and realize it’s cheaper, safer and more beneficial for me to go to a recovery house.  I search high and low baby and most of them were booked.. found one regardless with lymphatic massages included called Flawless Recovery House.  This wasn’t my 1st-6th option but the one with availability on my surgery date so I paid a deposit to hold onto my spot.  Total was $1312 for 5 days with 5 massages, I paid a $200 deposit.  Next, I booked my flight, round trip $116 with Delta.  My surgery date is on a Monday, I have to have my pre-op done on the Saturday prior so I booked a hostel from the 18th-20th on booking.com for $66.  I know I could have gotten an airbnb or hotel room but I wanted this experience.  I want to go to Amsterdam and stay in a hostel so I need to know what to expect.  Also I cannot party, smoke, drink or eat before surgery so fuck it.. a hostel will do, lol. 

I smoke big fucking weed and watched someone else’s bbl journey today and realize if I fail the drug test, my surgery will be cancelled and it’ll cost me $1500 to reschedule.  Boy the shit sent me into panic mode like I've never experienced before, only to find out the weed isn’t the issue nicotine is, it slows down your heart rate.  I can smoke weed just not out of a wood or a rillo and nicotine takes 3-4 days to get out of your system so a bitch barely made it.  I just won't be smoking until I get back home lol.  Just to be super informative no alcohol, diabetic meds, cocaine, pcp or anything that will fool with your heart or makes your bleed.  Today is 9/11 and im one week out from my pre-op... my body is a joke cause I haven’t gained a single pound and normally it’s nothing for me to put on weight.  I took my acrylics off, when you’re put to sleep they monitor your oxygen levels with those clamps they put on your fingers and they aren't the most accurate when you have on dark polish or acrylics.  I also cannot wear lashes cause when they go to fill this ass in I'll be laying flat on my face.  I mean my hair didn’t have requirements but I figure since im naked I might as well be bald.. y'all should see me rn, I look very much like a young man but im hype.  I’ll be back later to tell y'all what I pack and purchase prior to my flight.  Imma put the dates at the end of each update.. today is 9/11/21

My surgery group send me list of supplies  that I would need and the cost came to roughly $1100.  Naive me was definitely going to purchase everything on the list from them until I saw Leslie’s (@prettyhaute - on ig) bbl vlog.  I went on amazon and got away with murder.  Below I’ll list what I purchased and the price I paid versus what the surgery center was quoting me.

Faja - I paid $74.69 - Quoted $160.50 || BBL Pillow - $26.99 - Qouted $42.80 || Arnica pills - $8.95 - Quoted $37.45 || Compression socks - $13.99 for 3 - Quoted $10.70 for 1 || Foams - $17.99 for 3 - Quoted $64.20 for 3 || Scar Cream  $$29.82 - Quoted $80.25 || Arnica Gel - $7.92 - Quoted $21.40 || 

There a shit ton of items on the suggested list that I didn't purchase but way more items that wasn’t on the list I still need for instance:

Crocs, benadryll, robe, adult diapers, straws, earplugs, liquid iv, stool softener, antiseptic body wash, avocado float, back board, urinal, pineapple juice, throat calm, 3 moo-moo’s and a massage roller (the crocs are the only thing on this list that cost more than $20).  My flight is at 7:15a tomorrow and im so damn nervous but excited.  I will spend Saturday and Sunday gallivanting around Miami and then body , ody, ody, ody, ody, ody.  I still have to send my entire itinerary to my aunt but I think im all set.  9/17/21

Pre-op was packed but I went on Saturday and was in and out in an hour.  I was charged for a covid $80, 3 post-op massages $150 and a drug test $20.  I went over my clearance paper work with a medical assistant who also took 9 before pics of me.  Keep in mind, your surgery can be cancelled or reschedule if all of you labs aren’t at the surgery center on pre-op day.  I cannot stress how important it is to take your labs with you!!!  Mine were faxed over from urgent care but I was also provided copies which I took with me.  The photos were sent directly to my surgeon to analyze before surgery.  From my knowledge, I was also to be fitted for my faja but that never happened, do NOT leave pre-op without a faja!!! I paid for 3 massages from CG totaling $150 which I regret badly.  I do NOT recommend getting massages from the surgery center.  There are 4-5 different surgeons performing surgeries on any given day and they do at minimum 4 surgeries per day, that’s at least 15-20 different girls with the same surgery and post-op date.  CG had 2 massage therapists to drain 15-20 girls.  I was drained for 9 mins, your drain massages should last at least 45 mins for maximum drainage.  I only used 1 of the 3 massages I paid for and was denied a refund.  That is a huge downside to CG once they have your money good fucking luck getting it back! Ps. Ellie was a royal fucking cunt!!!!!  She told my medical assistant that I didn’t need a faja so I was never fitted for one and woke up out of surgery with a binder on versus a faja like I should have.  I wanted to slap the shit out of her and took the charge on the chin but I wanted my surgery so I refrained.. I was put on a 12 hour fast and contacted an hour after pre-op with my surgery address and time.  My fast started at 7pm the day before surgery and my surgery time wa at 6:30a, there was a $300 for showing up to surgery late.  All I could bring to surgery was compression socks and a faja (that I didn’t have), I was instructed to bathe with dial (the orange one) before surgery to make sure my incisions weren’t infected, no lotion, perfume, deodorant, makeup, nails, lashes, no jewelry/piercing or hair products and no personals ie, purse money, wallet also you will need a companion or surgery will be cancelled.  I’ll upload all my paperwork at the end.   Surgery day arrive at the surgery center at 6:15 am how about the entire fucking staff was late!  Bitch I was outside in Miami alone with compression socks on and a moo moo, LIVID.  No one arrived until 7:10 am, baby I wanted to kill everyone but fuck it, it was go time.  I’m escorted to a room, changed into a paper gown, piss tested, my labs were reviewed again and finally my surgeon comes in!  We were in the exam room alone which was weird cause I was asshole naked but he kept it 1000% professional, he asked me what I wanted and I say “the fattest ass” he looked me dead in my eyes without a single hesitation and said “it’ll heal like a diaper”  LMAO.  I showed him areas that I wanted lipo’d to death and he marked me up, I didn’t aka e picture of my mark ups but shit was rolling by then, he walked out I put my paper gown back on and the anesthesiologist walked in.  I expressed my biggest concerns to him, I didn’t want to die and I didn’t want to wake up during surgery.  He explain why the drug test was so important because certain street drugs will have adverse effect with the anesthesia.  My anesthesiologist walked me up to the surgery room and I hopped on the table, they put massage boots on both of my feet and inserted an iv, the mask was put on my face and my heart rate went to heaven, I wanted to shit myself bro.  The anesthesiologist told me to make a tight fist, I asked what time it was, 8:08am.. I woke up to a nurse helping me into a wheelchair with a binder around my waist and I was scream crying because my entire body ached, I didn't know where I was and the anesthesia is no hoe.  I was escorted to my recovery house’s transportation van and taken to my damn bed.  

I chose Flawlesss Recovery House with Ms. Opal.  I paid a $200 deposit before 2 weeks before surgery and the balance the day I left.  I opted for a 5 day stay.  I loved it there bro and couldn’t imagine trying to recover at a hotel or air bnb!  There were nurses there 24-7, I was roomed with one other girl but the house had a total of 4 bedrooms, one of which no one occupied and the door was always shut but my room was the only room with 2 beds, the others had 3 beds.  I had a call button, it was love, the nurses came expeditiously when I rang it.  They made 3 home cooked meals per day and I don’t eat meat, they accommodated me with no hesitation.  I loved it man.  So couple hours after surgery I attempted to use the bathroom on my own and blacked out, the anesthesia is really fucking strong and took an entire day to wear off (for me), the nurses helped me pee in a cup until then.  Post op day 9/21/21, I went in to make sure I looked good, got a faja finally and received that lousy as drain.  Back to the recovery house I was able to walk finally w/o passing out and in went my foams, I also could pee by myself with the use of a urinal.  I was constipated for 2 days, first bowel movement was on post op day 2. I paid for an independent massage therapist named Tatiana, she used a ultrasound machine to massage me so I cancelled her.  When I took my faja off for my massage it was washed and dried by the time I was done, I took a shower and put my faja on with my foams.  I cancelled Tatiana because don’t let nobody use no machine on you until you are at least 2 weeks post op, hand massages only.  All the girls were getting massaged by the literal best massage therapist (in my opinion) her name is Brittany, I could cry she was EVERYTHING, I was tender but she put the painful massage theory to bed!  She taught me how to drain myself and how to open my incisions without the q-tip looking thing.  In 45 mins she drained 5 of those doggy pad things worth of fluid off of me.  I received 4 massages in 5 days.  I left on Saturday 9/25/2021 on Sunday, back in Atlanta, I received my 5th massage and that when I was told I have not one but 2 seromas.  I swear on everything I love it was because everyone wakes up from surgery with a faja on but not me (Fuck you Ellie, lil bitch) I had on a binder (its what they use for tummy tucks).  The lady who did my 1st massage in Atlanta was Bri, not gone post her ig cause she did a damn good massage but when I asked her to syringe drain me the good sis stuck this long ass needle in my seroma but could get the fluid out, cancelled her too (the massage was good asf tho but nah).  Tired and tried I bit the bullet and booked a packed with Dream Body ($455 for 5 massage, I think, don’t quote me look it up on there site and follow them on ig)  because they are the biggest name in Atlanta, Jayda Wayda goes to them.  The  most painful massage yet, yes Michelle lil ass is so strong but she will get the fluid up off you.  She made me tear up bad and no matter how much I screamed or even tried to push her off of me she understood the assignment, Michelle helped me get back into my faja after my massage and told me my faja was too big and to have it altered.  She recommended a lady on ig @siri2sir but to know me is to know I altered my shit myself.  Allow me to tell y'all, I look good asf!!!!!!! 10/4/2021 

[adenei]

Always A Bridesmaid, Never A Bride - Chapter 6

AO3 || FFN

Hermione

It was official. I’d agree to anything if it meant I had a chance to spend time with Harry outside of work. I knew it was a problem, and it was blatantly clear when Jenny called me in a rush this morning. She thought she’d scheduled an appointment to set up her registry at John Lewis  for Monday, but her days had gotten mixed up and she took the only open slot for Sunday. 

Of course, I knew she’d already booked herself at the bridal salon and florist, and couldn’t fit it in as she was explaining her mix-up. I was going to suggest she reschedule, but then I heard her mutter about sending someone else, and thinking she was going to send Harry, I offered to go, too. So, despite telling myself numerous times to just call her and cancel, I still forged ahead, even though I knew my ulterior motive was despicable.

Jenny had slipped her list of items under my door while I was in the shower. I thought it was odd if she was sending Harry, but then maybe she didn’t have time to stop by his place before her first appointment.

I took the list and caught a taxi to take me to the department store in the city. My phone buzzed and I checked it to see I had a text from Jenny. Your reinforcement should be there soon. Thanks so much for doing this again! I decided to go in and get started at the registry desk since I knew the set-up process would take a while. Finally, after I finished the paperwork, I was ready to begin. 

“So, here’s the scanner!” the clerk said. “This is all you’ll need to choose the items that you’d like. Once you hear the beep, you’ll know it’s been added. If you scan something by mistake, just scan it again to take it off. I’ll be here if you need anything, and if not, just drop the scanner off before you leave.”

“Thank you,” I said as I pulled the list out from my bag and determined where I should start first. 

I was paying so much attention to the list, I didn’t notice someone joining me. 

“Fancy meeting you here.” I looked up to see Ron standing next to me.

“Jenny sent you?” I asked. Surely, this was a joke.

“Are you surprised?” Ron asked me innocently.

“Yes, actually, I am. What writer helps with menial wedding tasks like this?”

“When I cover a wedding, I cover the whole wedding,” he explained as I shook my head. “So, where should we get started?”

“Probably housewares,” I said with a sigh.

I handed Ron the list to check things off as we scanned them. If he was here, I was going to make sure he was helpful. Maybe it’d make the job go by faster.

“Who needs all this useless junk, anyways?” he asked as I scanned a beautiful set of ivory candlestick holders. “Don’t they both have separate flats already? Surely, they have enough stuff between the two of them to outfit one apartment.”

I rolled my eyes in his direction. “When you’re starting a life with someone, you want to pick out items for the home you’re going to share together. You know, to make it both of yours instead of a mix of two people’s things,” I explained.

“So you’re telling me if you were to get engaged, you’d chuck all of your current stuff just to ask for new versions of the same stuff because you’re marrying someone else?”

“Well...not everything, but I’ve been inside Jenny’s apartment and it’s rather bare in there.”

“What about Harry’s stuff?”

“It’s okay, but he is a bachelor. He only has half the stuff he does because of Teddy,” I said.

“Harry has a kid?” Ron asked, his eyes wide.

I chuckled. “Not exactly. Teddy’s an orphan that’s part of the Boys & Girls Club. Harry’s his big brother. Though, I wouldn’t be surprised if he really does try to adopt Teddy after he and Jenny are married.”

“And how does Jenny feel about that?”

“Why do you care so much?” I gave him an odd look. 

“N-no reason. It’s just an interesting dynamic, that’s all.”

“Well, when we went to Teddy’s football game, Jenny seemed really taken with him. She’s surprisingly good with kids,” I mentioned offhand.

“Surprisingly? What’s that supposed to mean?” Ron asked curiously.

“Oh, um, I suppose she probably has several nieces and nephews if four of her brothers are married.”

“Ah. Well, that’s good, then. I’m sure they’ll make a beautiful family,” Ron said. 

“Yeah,” I said distantly. It was hard not to think about it, even though I really didn’t want to. 

Ron was looking at me curiously. “You know what I think you want?”

“What? Please bestow your infinite wisdom about me, a person you barely know, to me,” I scoffed.

“I think you do all this because you just want a wedding for yourself. Not an actual marriage, but a wedding.”

I stared incredulously at him. “How can you even say that? You don’t know me! Of course I want a marriage! Who wouldn’t want someone to spend the rest of their life with?”

“Well then why aren’t you looking harder for your ‘one true love’?” he said in air quotes. “You spend all your extra time helping brides and attending weddings, and it seems like you barely date.”

“I do too date!” I retorted.

“Yeah? When’s the last time you dated someone? I don’t count,” he said pompously.

“What do you mean you don’t count? Of course you don’t!” I argued.

“Oh, you wound me,” Ron said, his words dripping with sarcasm. “Are you going to answer the question?”

I stopped to think about it. Was it bad that I really couldn’t remember. Ron took advantage of my distraction to steal the scanner from me and started scanning random trinkets.

“What are you doing?” I asked as I tried to take the scanner back. 

He used his height to an advantage to block me. “Oh, come on, it’s all in good fun. Every couple deserves some random trinkets that they open and have to fake a smile for, don’t you think?”

There was a mischievous glint in his eye that made me laugh even though I should be scolding him. I was still mad at him for his accusations, but I was willing to play along so I didn’t have to answer the dating question.

“Is that what you think?” I said with a smile. “You’d want to open random gifts you didn’t ask for because someone thought it would be funny to play a joke on your registry?”

“It’s never going to happen for me, so it doesn’t matter what I’d do, now would it?”

Ron was smiling, but it wasn’t reaching his eyes. I stopped to contemplate his words for a moment. “Something must have happened to make you resent love so much. So, what is it?” 

I snagged the list from his hand to see how we were doing as I began walking again. We needed to get to the linen section next. Ron still hadn’t answered me, so I decided to push his buttons a bit.

“Did your parents get divorced? An ex-girlfriend cheat on you with your best friend like in those cheesy romantic comedies? Or, were you left at the altar or something tragic like that?” 

“Yeah, actually.”

I froze. I wasn’t really serious. I turned around to look at him. “What?”

“I was engaged a few years ago, but about two weeks before the wedding she called it off. Apparently she was more interested in my brother instead, and only realized it when she came home to meet the whole family.”

“Oh, my God, Ron, I’m sorry. It was—I didn’t mean it,” I apologized. That was awful and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

“It’s fine. I was too blinded by love to see that we weren’t a good fit anyways. My brother saw right through her shallowness and told her to fuck off. So, I guess there was a silver lining.”

I handed him the scanner. “Scan all the ugly things you want. I’ll feign ignorance as long as all the stuff on this list gets added.”

He let out a weak laugh. “Thanks.”

“Are you close with your brother, then?” We hadn’t discussed anything personal yet, aside from my involvement in weddings, but I found myself wanting to learn more about him.

“As close as we can be. He lives in Africa on a wild nature preserve.”

“And your ex was more interested in a—”

“Zoologist? Apparently. Guess my career as a writer wasn’t adventurous enough for her. Or it didn’t make enough money for her lifestyle.”

“If she’s more interested in money than love, you’re better off. You’ll find the one someday, I’m sure.”

“So will you...maybe,” he smirked.

“Good to see you being so supportive,” I said sarcastically. 

Just like that, the moment had passed. Maybe I’d been a little too quick to judge Ron without knowing his backstory. First impressions were typically a good indication of a person for me, but now I was starting to think that maybe I’d misjudged him. Even though he reverted right back to his sarcastic ways, I was fairly certain that it was all a cover. I couldn’t help the feeling churning inside of me that yearned to know more.

Ron

I was sitting at my cubicle on Wednesday when Rita stopped by my desk. “How’s the article coming?”

I knew she was talking about the perpetual bridesmaid one. “It still needs work; still a rough draft,” I told her.

“I want to see what you’ve got. Email it to me,” Rita said bluntly before walking away.

“But—” It didn’t matter what I was going to try to say, she was expecting it and I needed to send it along.

I didn’t understand why I was hesitating, though. This was going to be my big break, and yet I had this nagging feeling in my stomach. 

Sure, Hermione was strong minded and opinionated, but she was always so interesting to talk to. I found myself craving her company and wanting to learn more about her. Hell, I’d even admitted my darkest secret about Romilda that no one knew outside of immediate family.

The last time I put love ahead of my career I lost the section for my contributing investigative pieces and landed my arse firmly in commitments. I needed to stay focused so I shook the thoughts of Hermione from my head as I carried on with cleaning up the article. It’d been so long since I let anyone into my life, and I just didn’t know her well enough yet to trust her. 

I did make one small concession, deciding not to use her real name because of the business. So I called her Hermione Wilkins in the article. No one needed to know, and it was my feeble attempt at protecting her identity. Satisfied with the draft, I pressed send on the email and moved onto my next task.

On Friday, Rita called me into her office. “This is really good, Weasley. You should be proud.”

I looked at her in slight confusion, not exactly sure which article she was talking about.

“The perpetual bridesmaid article! We’re running it on Sunday. You’re on the front page of the Styles section. And you’re out of commitments for good after you cover that Warrington/Potter wedding, of course.”

“Er, right. Yeah, thanks!” I tried to fake excitement over it, but the knot was pitted even deeper in my stomach.

“Why aren’t you more excited?”

“I just think it could use some more time, that’s all. She’s in that wedding, too. The one next weekend. Let me wait and see if I can learn more. You know, to add—”

“Ron, this is perfect as is. Isn’t this what you wanted? Or has someone taken a fancy to Ms. Wilkins?” Rita gave me a knowing smile, but it wasn’t a genuine one. It made me uncomfortable.

“Can we please just push publication one more week?” I asked once more.

Rita sighed dramatically. “I’ll see what I can do, but if you have started to care for her, you might want to tell her. You can go now. I’m sure you have things to accomplish before the weekend.”

I nodded slightly as I turned to leave. I had to find a way to tell Hermione. I wasn’t ready to lose whatever dysfunctional new friendship we’d created, but after she’d already accused me of lying to her, I had no idea how I was going to spin this. No matter how I looked at it, it was totally deceitful.

 Not to mention my sister and all of her lies, too. No matter how annoying I thought Hermione could be, I knew she didn’t deserve that. She needed to know this was coming. I had to tell her.

~o~

My phone rang on Saturday afternoon. It was the first Saturday where I didn’t have to do anything related to weddings and it was brilliant, until I saw Ginny’s name on the caller ID.

“What?” I answered.

“I need your help.”

“Aren’t I already helping you enough?”

“Never,” Ginny said through a grin that I knew was undoubtedly plastered on her face.

“Well?” I asked, pretending to be annoyed.

“I just got a call that the favors are done and ready to be picked up in Brentwood. Harry was going to do it after the dinner tasting, but I’m worried that won’t give him enough time to get to Andover for dinner with Mum and Dad since it’s in the complete opposite direction!”

“So, you’re asking me to pick up the favors, then?”

“Unless you wanted to come to dinner—”

“Nope, I’m good. I’ve got to try and get a hold of Hermione tonight for something anyways,” I told her.

“Hermione?” Ginny’s voice sounded intrigued.

“Yeah, but it’s not what you think. It’s not like I’m into her or anything,” I said a little too quickly.

“Sureee,” Ginny teased. “Well, you’re in luck. She’s with Harry right now for the tasting at the Winchester in Putney. She offered to go to the tasting since I was wrapped up with things back home. Maybe she could go with you?”

“Yeah, maybe…” I had to admit that Ginny came up with a good idea.

“Listen, I have to go, we’re getting ready to leave now. Hopefully Harry will be hungry enough. I did reserve a later dinner, but Mum and Dad wanted to get settled at the inn beforehand since they didn’t want to drive home tonight…” Ginny trailed off.

“Okay, tell them I said hi, and I’ll take care of the favors for you.”

“Thanks, Ron, I owe you!”

“Yeah you owe me for a lot of—” I stopped talking once I realized she’d already hung up the phone.

“Doesn’t she believe in saying goodbye?” I said out loud as I shook my head. 

I could be at the Winchester House in fifteen minutes. Grabbing my wallet and keys, I headed out the door and hailed a taxi.

When I arrived at the hotel, the maitre’d pointed me in the direction of where Harry and Hermione were seated. It was a relatively nice day. Warm and partly cloudy, but I could tell by the way the sky was changing that a rainstorm was coming in.

I walked through the main area to the outdoor seating section where I stopped near the doorway to look for them. I spotted them on the other side of the terrace overlooking the Thames at a small table. My first thought was of how gorgeous Hermione looked when she was smiling. She normally only reserved scowls for me, and I hadn’t realized how attractive she truly was until that moment.

The thought terrified me. I wasn’t sure if I was even ready to let someone else into my life like that. I’d sworn off love, convinced it wasn’t in the cards for me. If things were meant to look up, there was no way it could be her. Especially not after that article dropped. At least Rita was giving me more time to explain it to her.

I refocused on the two of them and began to take a few steps toward their table. That’s when I saw it. The look I’d seen on every bride who was hopelessly in love with their soon to be groom. How had I never realized it before? The way she smiled and leaned across the table. 

All the unabashed flirting. Everything was making sense now. Why she was so upset at the club that first night, why she was so dejected when she called me, and why she wasn’t sure if she even wanted to be part of my sister’s wedding. Hermione was in love with her boss, who was also my sister’s fiancée. I wasn’t sure what was worse. Her pining over a man who had no interest in her at all, or Harry’s complete obliviousness to the entire situation. I’d seen him around my sister long enough to know he only had eyes for her.

I was feeling a mix of hurt and anger that I hadn’t felt since Romilda left me, and I didn’t understand why because it wasn’t like I was in love with Hermione or anything. I just enjoyed her company and was keen on the prospect that she might be a good friend if we could get past her constant accusations. 

At that moment I lost all my ambition to tell Hermione about the article, and even to ask her along on the wedding errand. I was about to turn and leave when Harry happened to look in my direction and called me over. Shit.

“What are you doing here?” Hermione looked at me in surprised annoyance.

Of course she was annoyed, I just ruined the probable fantasy she was currently living with this whole situation.

 “Jenny called and asked if I could go pick up the favors with you before the shop closes.”

“Oh, I thought I was going to take care of that,” Harry said.

“Yeah, Harry and I were just getting ready to head to Brentwood now,” Hermione said pointedly.

“Well, the bride is worried that it’ll make him late for some dinner that’s past the other side of London, so…”

“Hmm, she does make a good point. And it looks like the rain is heading in, which would make travel conditions worse,” Harry said. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Not at all. Hermione’ll ensure everything is sorted as the maid of honor, right?” I asked, raising my eyebrow in question and knowing she couldn’t say no.

“I—I guess,” Hermione sounded deflated as she shot me a death glare as Harry was finalizing the menu.

Good. Someone needed to pop the bubble because she was holding onto a dream that would never come true.

“Great, thanks again, you guys. I better get going if I have to stop home before heading to Andover.” 

Harry got up and clapped me on the back as he took off toward the exit. I smiled widely at Hermione, who looked like she was going to murder me. I couldn’t wait to reveal what I’d found out about her little secret.

[justkindaoverhereobsessing]

car crash, hot flash

You can all thank @indestinatus for this painfully parallel little ficlet. It’s not my fault. It’s hers.

_________________

“We all risk the chances of mistakes / cause we all need a little pain / Who knew that the absence of love is all it takes to change your mind / consider what you left behind / you’ve only walked into a / car crash, hot flash.” 

- Crow’s Feet by The Accidentals

_________________

Two months.

Two months, that desk has been empty.

Two months since Tony returned from Israel, two months since he last spoke to his best friend.

He misses her, and it hurts.

Two months have passed when her desk phone rings. Tony looks up at it, bemused. The calls happened some in the beginning, before people got the message that Ziva David had permanently vacated the line. Then, slowly, the ringing stopped, which hurt on its own merits. It’s almost like the world learned to forget her, just like Tony did, but… who could possibly be calling now?

It rings three times as Tony stairs at it, imagining an olive-skinned hand picking it up and a slightly accented voice answering, but that doesn’t happen. 

Nothing happens.

“You should get that.”

Tony tears his eyes away from the phone to look at McGee, who jerks his head toward Ziva’s desk—as if he could possibly be talking about anything else.

“No. No, it’s probably a wrong number.”

“You’ll never know if you don’t pick it up.”

“McGee, I’m not going to—”

“You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Tony stops, because he more than understands regret right now. Robotically, he stands and does as the probie suggested, wishing for a curly-haired Israeli to yell at him for touching her things.

“Hello?”

“Hi, I’m looking for Ziva David, is she available?”

“No,” Tony answers dully. 

“Who am I speaking to?”

“Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo,” he says automatically, but it’s without his usual perkiness. He’s ready to punch McGee, because there’s only one voice that would have made answering this call worth it—and really, why would Ziva be calling her old desk?

“Oh, Mr. DiNozzo! You’re her emergency contact, so I’m allowed to give you information. Can you take a message for her, please?”

“Yes,” he stupidly agrees before thinking better of it. There’s no telling when he’ll talk to her again—or even if he’ll ever talk to her again—so he has no business agreeing to pass on information. Too late now, though.

“Please remind her that her yearly dental check-up appointment is next Wednesday at 8:00.”

It’s so stupid—why the hell should someone else’s dentist appointment make it harder to breathe? “She won’t make it,” he tells the caller, sounding about as cheery as he feels. He clears his throat, trying to shake the tightness out of his voice.

“Then she should call to reschedule—”

“She moved,” he says shortly. “Out of the country. She’s not coming back. You might as well cancel this appointment and any others, because she’s gone.”

His voice is unnecessarily harsh by the end, snapping at the poor receptionist who hasn’t done anything wrong, and he slams the receiver down into its cradle angrily. “Don’t ever tell me to answer her phone again, McGee,” he snarls at Tim, whose face is infuriatingly apologetic and sympathetic. 

How fucking dare he pretend to understand how this feels?

Tony sinks down into his desk chair and rubs his hands roughly over his face, trying to scrub the ever-present image of Ziva from his retinas. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been since her final exit from the bullpen, because he still pictures her there behind her desk. She’s always laughing in his mind’s eye, an all-too-familiar expression on her features—it’s the expression of someone who feels reluctantly charmed by Tony’s antics. Ziva seems so real when he imagines her that if he closes his eyes, he can almost convince himself that the past two months were just a painful dream, and that’s not healthy.

He misses her, and he’d been doing a good job of getting her out of his head.

It’s awful what one fucking phone call can do.

_________________

Six thousand miles and seven time zones away, Ziva sits on her front porch swing at the old farmhouse, her knees tucked up against her chest as she sips chamomile tea. Her hair is chaotic, unbound, framing a face that has lost weight over the last two months.

Two months.

Those months haven’t been easy. In fact, they’ve been entirely hellish. It’s been two months of solitude, two months of no contact, two months without everyone she loves. It’s been two months of fighting the current and fighting the urge to just swim down. Worst, though, is that it’s been two months without Tony.

She misses him, and it hurts.

She’s startled out of her musings by the shrill sound of her telephone ringing inside, and after a short debate with herself, she rises to answer it. It hasn’t rung in two months, probably because she has kept it switched off most of the time. Today, however, she’s expecting a call. It’s time to bite the bullet.

“Ziva David,” she answers automatically. Her voice sounds strange, emotionless and rusty from disuse. She can’t remember the last time she said a word out loud—it certainly wasn’t today. Maybe last week?

“Ms. David, this is Dr. Levitz. I’m calling to discuss your recent appointment. Do you have time to speak with me?”

Ziva David has nothing but time these days. “Yes,” she replies, quiet and tired.

Quickly, the doctor goes through the motions of confirming that Ziva is who she says she is, and then she finally gets to the bottom of why she’s calling. “Most of the tests from your physical came back normal, as expected—you are in very good shape. There was hCG in your blood, though.” Before Ziva can interrupt to ask what that indicates, the doctor continues. “That means that you are pregnant. Judging by the levels in your blood, you are about eight weeks into the pregnancy, but we will confirm that later when you have your first prenatal appointment. Congratulations!”

Ziva, numb, doesn’t answer.

“Ms. David, are you still there?”

“Yes,” she manages.

“I will give you some time to think, but please call my office at your earliest convenience to schedule a follow-up appointment.”

“Thank you.”

Without saying anything else or waiting for the doctor to reply, Ziva ends the call robotically. She’s pregnant.

There’s only one possibility for the baby’s father, only one person she’s slept with in a long time. That man is on another continent, so very far away… Because of the emotional distance between them and the strain of months of silence, however, he might as well be all the way on another planet. 

Ziva has never felt so alone.

She rests a hand on her abdomen, reminding herself that apparently, she isn’t alone. In fact, she won’t be alone for the next eighteen years. In all the ways that matter, though, she’s more solitary than she’s ever been in her life. This is something meant to be shared between two people—meant to be celebrated by two people.

How can she celebrate, though, when she can’t even tell Tony? And how can she tell him after two fucking months of radio silence? When she knows damn well that she broke both of their hearts by sending him home on that plane without her?

Her eyes sting with the onset of bitter tears. A pregnancy… it’s not what she asked for; it’s not what she wanted. Life already felt difficult, but now it feels impossible.

She can’t stop picturing Tony’s face, though. He’s always smiling in her mind’s eye, even today. She likes to remember him that way, not the way he was in Israel. If she thinks too hard about his grieving beard when he couldn’t be bothered to shave, his breaking voice as he tried his damnedest to convince her to leave with him, the expression on his face as they broke their kiss before he got on the plane… she’ll break.

She misses him, and she’d been doing a good job of getting him out of her head. 

It’s awful what one fucking phone call can do.