#maybe i would feel better on a sunday if i wasn't having to pick up half her workload from the previous week!!!!

[jakeperalta]

crying at my boss sharing a linkedin post about how company culture is how your people feel on a sunday night and meanwhile this is me every single sunday

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 26 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: No matter what Bradley did, you seemed frustrated with him. You needed a new car, but you needed to start communicating with him even more. He was scrambling to try to fix everything, but it was hard when you could barely stay awake for a conversation.

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, pregnancy topics, angst

Length: 5900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

When nearly a week had gone by, and you still wouldn't focus on picking out a new car for yourself, Bradley was starting to get frustrated. Sharing the Bronco with you wasn't a big deal. You respected it and treated it well, but he had to play nice when you wanted to use it to go to brunch on Sunday with Cam and Maria at the same time he wanted to play golf.

"Can't Jake pick you up?" you asked him with an annoyed sigh. "I'll text him and ask if he can come get you."

"Why can't Cam or Maria pick you up?" he asked, feeling kind of fucking fed up with you at the moment. 

"Fine," you replied, an eerily calm expression taking over your face. "I'll have one of them pick me up for brunch in the morning. Don't worry about it."

You turned on your heel and walked back to the bedroom leaving Bradley raking his fingers through his hair. He had finally started to feel normal again after having your parents at the house for a few days. It's not like they were even loud or inconsiderate, but he just struggled a bit with it anyway. He wasn't used to closing the bedroom door knowing Tramp liked to wander around the house at all hours of the day and night. He liked to take a piss with the bathroom door open, and he liked to randomly reach up under your shirt when you were in the kitchen if you welcomed it. And he just couldn't do any of that with other people in the house, even though it was family. 

"Fuck," he mumbled. It wasn't even a big deal for you to take the Bronco to brunch. Jake or Javy could easily get him on their way to the golf course, and now he needed to go apologize to you. But the bedroom door was closed when he got there, and he immediately felt like he needed to be touching you, because you were literally the only person who could be in his personal space all day long and not usually annoy him in the slightest. 

When he turned the knob, he was relieved to find it wasn't locked. "Baby Girl?" he called out cautiously, and then he found you in the bathroom. "Shit," he whispered, watching you wipe your eyes before turning toward the mirror, but there was no way to hide from him in here. "I'm sorry."

"Could you just leave me alone?" you asked without looking at him.

The words caused him physical pain, because that was the last thing he wanted right now. He'd gotten used to how much better everything was recently, and he was absolutely unwilling to stop communicating with you. "Can we talk about it? About a car? We could buy one tomorrow if you pick one out."

You turned and snapped at him. "Maybe next time just don't fuck up the one I already have!"

He had apologized to you countless times. He'd given your shit car a eulogy. He had offered to buy you any car you found that you wanted, but now he was just as mad as you were. "I just wanted to tell you that you can use the Bronco tomorrow."

"How generous," you replied sarcastically. "But I already told you I'll get a ride from Cam or Maria. Now would you please leave me alone?"

Bradley nodded and retreated back to the living room couch with Tramp, because he didn't know what else to do. He stretched out and decided to look at cars until you resurfaced to make dinner. There were two huge dealerships in San Diego that had the current model year of your old car, and they both had them stocked in several colors with different options available. You could get a new red one with a sunroof and gray interior just like you had before. He'd upgrade the stereo package to make riding in it less painful for him, but he'd buy it right now if you said it's what you wanted. 

As he thought back to the way you dragged your feet about wedding planning, he muttered a string of obscenities. At this rate, he'd be sharing the Bronco with you for a long time. He bookmarked a bunch of new cars, and then he searched all over the country to see if anyone was selling an exact replica of the one he totaled. A few hours later, it occurred to him that you never came back out of the bedroom. He scooped up Tramp where he'd fallen asleep on his chest and carried him back down the hallway. 

You were sound asleep in bed, curled up on your side, breathing softly. Bradley checked the time again. It was only 7:15, but maybe you just needed to rest. He tucked the covers up around your shoulders and kissed your forehead before venturing back out to the kitchen to make himself a sandwich before working out.

------------------------

By the middle of the week, you were aggressively annoyed by everything, but mostly Bradley's voice. On Sunday, Cam picked you up for brunch even though Bradley told you a million times you could use the Bronco. You didn't even want to use the Bronco. He could use it all day long. And then you went back to Cam's place and lounged on his couch until you were starting to get hungry for dinner. If Bradley wondered why you were out for a six hour brunch, he didn't ask. 

But when he eventually called your phone, you asked Cam to drive you home. "Your husband is like a twelve out of ten," he murmured as he drove you. "Don't be mean to him." Then you climbed out of his car onto your driveway and rolled your eyes, because after that he was getting on your nerves, too.

So on Monday and Tuesday, you just avoided Bradley as much as you could at work after driving in with him, but on Wednesday, as he pulled into the parking garage, he cleared his throat. "Hard Deck tonight?"

"You can go," you replied as you unbuckled your seatbelt. "You can take the Bronco, and I'll just stay home." You bit your lip immediately as you said the words, because you felt like crying. You couldn't understand what was wrong with you as tears burned your eyes. The last thing you wanted to do was skip a fun night out. You also didn't know why you couldn't commit to a car. Everything felt like too much the last few days, and you wanted to scream.

"Can we talk about this?" Bradley asked, his voice pleading with you, but you didn't even know what to say. 

"Later," you told him before heading for the building, but he was right behind you, undeterred.

"Don't give me that later bullshit. We've been talking and communicating a lot better, and I absolutely refuse to stop doing either of those things!"

You spun around so fast, he almost collided with you. "I have a meeting with Bickel, okay? About Annapolis. And it starts in twenty minutes. And I'm tired. And I miss my car. And I need to go."

After that, you weren't sure if he followed you or not, because you didn't turn around to check. When you got to your office and opened your computer, you saw the calendar reminder that made more tears cloud your vision. You cradled your forehead in your hand. Saturday was Carole Bradshaw's birthday. 

The fact that you forgot it was coming up was worrying, because you couldn't let work take over your life again like it had in the past. You'd been mentally planning to make another fancy dinner to celebrate her day, the way you had for both of Bradley's parents' birthdays last year. Filet mignon and crab cakes and brownies. 

Fuck. You wanted to sit alone in your office and cry all morning, but now you had four minutes until you had to sit down with your boss. You pulled yourself together the best you could and made your way to talk to Bickel. Cat was there too, and you could feel her intense gaze on you as if she was physically touching you. You knew she could tell something was on your mind, but you sat as calmly as you could and looked through the folder of information that was given to you. 

Bickel folded his hands on his desk and said, "I'm letting the two of you decide how you'd like to present our work in Annapolis. I'm trying to finalize some dates for us, but it's looking like the first week of August. This would add two million dollars to our pending budget for next year, which would give us the opportunity to explore an even more advanced comms system. And it would be a great way for me to push for your promotion, Lieutenant Coleman."

"Yes, Sir," Cat replied immediately. When you were both dismissed, she took you by the arm out in the hallway and whispered, "Please, I need you to focus on this for me. Okay? Why do you look like you're on the verge of tears?"

"I'm having a bad week," you whispered, still unsure why you felt like this. Your fingers were tingling, and you were so anxious, you were about to walk yourself to see Dr. Genevieve. But you hadn't eaten breakfast, and it was almost lunchtime now after Bickel kept you so long. "I need lunch," you told Cat, and she sighed and walked down to the cafeteria with you.

Part of you wanted to see Bradley, but part of you did not. And something about the idea of a burrito bowl was turning your stomach just looking at it. You picked out a sandwich and some soup and found a spot at a table that was completely empty except for Bob. 

"Hi," you said softly, and he looked up from his notebook with a smile as you slid into the seat across from him. 

"Hi," he replied in his sweet voice that immediately made you feel calmer. "I actually was hoping to see you to thank you again. Maria has been really accommodating about me moving in, and this way I don't have to commute into the city every day."

You waved him off as you tried a spoonful of the flavorless soup. "I'm just happy it worked out. For both of you. I didn't want Maria to have some creep move in since she couldn't find anyone else. And obviously you're just lovely, Bob."

He visibly bristled a bit. "No, she shouldn't have to deal with a creepy roommate."

Then Jake dropped down in the seat next to yours and turned to smile as Cat sat on his other side. "Angel. What the hell are you doing to Rooster now?"

"What do you mean?" you asked, looking around, but your husband and Nat were still in line for food. 

"He's fucking miserable today. Cranky as hell. And I know for a fact nothing can set that man off the way you can. It's honestly pretty funny, but he did snap at me three times. It's like dealing with Hondo all over again."

"Sorry," you heard Cat mutter as she ate her lunch.

You gripped your spoon in your hand and took a deep breath, but all you could say was, "I don't know." You truly didn't know what was going on. Your brain was in a constant fog, and you felt so antsy. 

Bradley sat across the table from you, eyeing you carefully from his spot next to Bob. You tried to give him a reassuring smile, but you didn't know if it came across that way when he just looked sadder. 

"Who's coming to the bar tonight?" Nat asked loudly.

After Jake and Cat agreed to go, you quietly said, "Not me. I have to catch up on some things I was supposed to read, but I'll drop Bradley off for the night."

Your husband shook his head and opened his mouth to reply, but Nat was already squeezing his shoulder. "Sounds good," she said, and after that, he sat quietly. 

----------------------------

Bradley flew all afternoon, and it was bad. Just really, very bad. He was distracted, and the fact that Javy had to keep repeating himself was about to earn Bradley a lecture from Maverick if he didn't pull it together. But you were just making him so sad, and he had no idea why you were currently barely able to look at him without crying or yelling. 

He hadn't even done anything. Had he? Yeah, he'd completely destroyed your beloved car, but the visit with your parents had gone pretty well. He hadn't missed any important dates of anniversaries. He'd been keeping up with his chores at home. 

You'd been running a bit hot and cold in the bedroom. He'd never push you for more than you wanted to do, but then perhaps he hadn't been good for you recently? The mere thought had him squirming and sweating in his cockpit as he followed Javy into a dive. Shit. Could that be it? He always got you off. Except that he knew he hadn't in the family bathroom at the Padres game, but you and he had been in a rush. And that night last week when you started yawning while you rode him, he distinctly remembered you saying it didn't matter if you came since you were so tired.

Shit. Things had been going great, he didn't realize what he'd been doing, and now he had to figure out how to fix it when you seemed so disinterested in talking to him. As he brought his jet back down to the tarmac he tried to come up with a plan, but he felt helpless. These were the times he felt like having a mother of his own would come in handy, because he couldn't exactly take this to your mom. 

"Fuck." He wrenched his helmet off and ran his fingers through his hair. You were sending him off to the bar alone tonight to get him out of your space, he could tell. So maybe the best thing he could do right now was just follow your lead. 

After he showered and headed for the parking garage, he found you leaning against the side of the Bronco waiting for him. "Hi, Sweetheart," he said, leaning down to kiss you softly.

Your quiet response of, "Hi, Roo," made him feel a lot better, and you let him buckle you in, which was great. But then you said, "I'll just drop you off at the bar later and come back for you. I have some things I want to get done."

He nodded. "Sure. Whatever you want." 

Back at home, he was able to coax you onto his lap for dinner at the dining room table, and even though it was a quiet affair, he didn't mind. He just rubbed his hand up and down your back, and eventually you sank back against him even though you'd only had a few bites of food. You were practically asleep on him as he finished eating, but you jolted up when his phone vibrated against your hip.

"It's probably just Nat," he whispered, and you nodded as you checked the time. 

"I'll drop you off whenever you're ready, and I'll come back for you around ten?"

He cupped your perfect cheek in one hand and asked, "Are you sure you don't want to come? I can help you get caught up with work tomorrow or this weekend. I'm a pretty good helper."

You cracked the tiniest smile as you said, "I'm just not in the mood. You go and drink and have fun, and I'll come back for you."

He kissed your cheek. "I'll be waiting, ready to come home with you whenever you get there."

--------------------------

When Bradley climbed out of the Bronco, you watched him head inside the bar. He was wearing his white and yellow floral print shirt, part of the matching set that he'd bought for the two of you, and he looked so sexy, you were thrumming with need. You were all over the place. A few days ago, the mere sight of him had you ready to climb out the window, and now you were on the verge of chasing him down to fuck you.

"Get a grip. My god," you moaned as you pulled back onto the road. At least now you could go to the store and purchase everything you'd need to make Carole's birthday dinner in peace. 

The store was quiet, which was great, because you didn't currently know if something was about to set you off. You grabbed a cart, and the cool metal against your hands felt nice. A smile found its way to your face as you listened to Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac playing throughout the store and picked out some beautiful looking steaks. Then you found everything for the crab cakes and the brownies, and you got a bottle of expensive champagne. 

You were already feeling better now, almost excited to celebrate the mother-in-law that you'd never had the privilege of meeting. She deserved a special day and a fancy dinner, because even though you didn't know her personally, you were absolutely certain Carole Bradshaw was incredible. The sparkle of your engagement ring caught your eye, and you stood in front of the wine and champagne and sobbed quietly until you felt like you could continue shopping. 

It had to be the combination of work and her birthday and your car that was setting you off. No matter how bad it made you feel, you'd pick out a new car this weekend. You knew there was enough in your savings account for a down payment, so you just had to force yourself to bite the bullet. You'd do it for Bradley and for yourself. 

While you unpacked the groceries, you made a sandwich, finally hungry again after you'd barely been able to eat dinner. But that started to make you too full after just half of it. "Don't tell Daddy," you whispered before feeding it to Tramp. 

Then you sat at the island and read through the folder from Bickel. You had weeks of research and planning ahead of you, but it would be worth it for the grant money. Cat was a solid gold choice as a partner for this, especially since she was motivated by that promotion she wanted. You were excited, but realistically so. You needed to make sure you didn't overdo things this time around. You could rely on Cat as much as yourself, and you knew that now.

When you checked the time on your phone, it was already 10:30. You texted Bradley and let him know you'd be there soon. When you started the Bronco, you got a text back.

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: Can't wait for you to take me home.

You smiled and sang on your way there, already feeling better about having everything for Carole's birthday dinner ready to go. You parked the Bronco and headed inside, twirling Bradley's keyring on your fingers. As soon as you pushed the door open, the wave of noise hit you, and you made a beeline for the pool table. Penny's summer drink specials must have been on point, because the place was packed.

Just when you were trying to squeeze between two massive guys, you caught sight of Bradley just in time to see a woman walk up behind him and tap him on the shoulder. Maybe he thought it was you at first, because he spun to face her with a smile on his face. You got jostled around a little bit as your steps faltered and came to a stop. Bradley was conversing a bit with her now, although his smile was gone, and you watched as she reached up with her perfectly manicured nails and dragged them along his paper airplane tattoo on his bicep.

"Oh, hell no," you gasped, registering that Bradley looked surprised, and not in a good way. But you were frozen to the spot now as disgust, embarrassment and jealousy washed over you. It wasn't like he wasn't wearing his wedding band. He was. How was that not enough? You couldn't decide if you wanted to run away or rip her head off.

Bradley immediately started to back away from her, shaking his head as he went, and then his gaze connected with yours. He mouthed your name, and you could see the concern on his face as you swallowed hard. Instead of running away, you stood there like an idiot when he came rushing in your direction.

"Sweetheart," he said, reaching for your hand, his eyes on yours. 

"Who's your friend?" you asked. Your voice sounded like it belonged to someone else while your throat burned. 

You let him wrap one big hand around your back and pull you closer, holding you there. "No idea. Never saw her before thirty seconds ago."

"I didn't like her touching you."

His eyebrow quirked up as his hand dipped a little lower. "Neither did I. Especially since I got the tattoo for you, Baby Girl."

You had your arms around his neck instantly, the other woman forgotten as you kissed your husband. He tasted like your favorite beer, and you whimpered. But your body felt somehow both too tender and too needy pressed up against him as you said, "It's for me. Mine. Let's go home."

-------------------------

Bradley let you drive since he'd had a fair amount to drink. That fucking woman just about ruined his night by asking him what he was drinking and then touching his arm, feigning interest in his unique tattoo. The past week had already felt like touch and go with you, and he was unwilling to make it worse. He still wasn't quite sure how to get things back to where they had been just a short time ago. 

When you parked in the driveway in the spot where you used to park your car, he almost winced. But you crawled over to his lap and started to unbutton his shirt. "Take me to bed," you told him, rubbing yourself on him through his jeans. 

He grunted in response, carrying you up to the porch and wrestling with his key in the lock as you kissed his neck. Clothing was discarded along the way, and when he got you in the bedroom with the soft lamplight illuminating your skin, he moaned. 

"Jesus Christ, you're a dream."

Truly, your tits had never looked better, and somehow the aroused looking little scowl you were shooting his way was really working him up as you shimmied your jeans down your legs. He was hard when you finally pushed him onto the bed and climbed on top. 

"I love you," he promised as your lips met his, and you sank down around his length. Warm and wet and perfect. Holy shit, you felt incredible as you rolled your hips slowly, his hands settling at your waist. You were velvety smooth everywhere. The only thing he wanted. 

He held your hips in his hands and thrust up into you as his lips met your nipple. You moaned as he licked you, but as soon as he sucked hard, pulling you between his lips, you gasped. So he did it again and again, but your hips stilled and your hands left his shoulders and reached for his cheeks.

"It hurts," you gasped, pushing his face away from your chest. "Stop."

He let his head settle back on the pillow. "Sorry." Tentatively, he brought his hand up to your left breast and gave you a nice squeeze, but you pulled away further. Then you were kneeling next to him with your arms crossed over your chest. "Sorry," he repeated. "But I always touch you that way?"

You burst into tears and said, "It just hurts."

And that was the last thing you said to him for the night as you crawled under the covers. As soon as Bradley got his erection under control by pacing around the bathroom, he walked back to the bed to find you sound asleep.

On Thursday and Friday, you didn't even acknowledge it. When he asked if it was okay if he touched you on Thursday morning, you went willingly into his arms as the toaster popped out your breakfast. And on Friday morning, you let him snuggle with you a little bit before you got out of bed, so at least he was fairly convinced you weren't too mad at him. But he just knew he hadn't been doing enough for you in bed which really pissed him off. 

He was older than everyone else around him seemingly all the time, and now he was feeling insecure about it again. If he could just manage to get you to have a real conversation with him, then he'd try to fix this. But you were busy with work, something else that had a red flag shooting up in the back of his mind. No, he was not going to fuck this all up yet again. You and he had something special, and he was going to demand a conversation. 

--------------------------

You poked at your lunch on Friday as Jake and Bradley argued next to you in the cafeteria. You were barely able to pay attention to them, because you were so tired, and you had another meeting with Bickel in an hour. As far as you could tell, you were getting the flu, which seemed weird for July, but nothing else made sense. 

No matter how much you slept, you were exhausted. Your body was aching, and you were so damn moody. You'd practically accosted Bradley on Wednesday after you picked him up from the bar, but then you fell asleep as soon as you told him your breasts hurt. You felt embarrassed now as you looked at him next to you, because after all of that, you didn't even let him finish that night. 

As you adjusted your shirt, you could have screamed at how tender your nipples were. At least it was Friday. You could catch up on reading for your presentation research, and then you could sleep. 

"Come on, Rooster," Jake complained. "You have to come tomorrow. I'll leave the hard seltzers at home, and Javy and I will behave."

Bradley turned to look at you with big, brown eyes before he told Jake, "No. No golf tomorrow. I have some things I need to take care of." Then he turned back toward you and softly said, "We're talking tomorrow. About a bunch of stuff. Until we are sorted out."

Now you felt guilty as Jake shot you a look. "We can talk tomorrow afternoon, Roo. Go play golf."

"Yeah, Bradshaw," Jake piped up. "Angel said you can do shit with her in the afternoon. So you'll come with Bob, Javy and I? You know Reuben sucks at golf. He's even worse than you."

"Go," you told Bradley, kissing the edge of his mustache before you stood. "Yes, Jake, he will be golfing tomorrow. I plan on sleeping in, and the quiet house will be nice."

Bradley reached for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as he looked up at you. "I love you."

You nodded. "I love you, too. I need to go get ready for a meeting." His eyes were on your body as you walked away, but you needed to focus on work right now. 

It was all you could do to go back to Bickel's office with Cat and not fall asleep in his soft leather chair. Your boss's calm voice and the warm room were almost too much for your senses. You were fighting with yourself to keep your eyes open. Fighting with everything you had to stay engaged. An hour went by and then two, and he was still talking, and so was Cat, and they kept asking you for input. You were clinging to your extensive knowledge on the subject matter and hoping for the best when Bickel's desk phone rang, and he finally dismissed you. 

"This is so exciting," Cat gushed out in the cooler hallway. "I was telling Jake last night that you and I are going to have the best presentation at the Naval Academy next month, and do you know what he said?"

"Hmm?" you hummed as you walked to the lab.

"He offered to watch Jeremiah!"

"Oh." You hadn't even really considered how hard it would be for Cat to go to Maryland with you, but this was probably a big deal. Jeremiah wasn't even two yet. "Wow. Look at Jake being an exceptional boyfriend. Good thing I pushed the two of you to actually communicate with each other."

Cat laughed and hugged you before entering the lab, but you cringed. Communication. You'd talk to Bradley tomorrow afternoon. You'd pick a car tomorrow afternoon. But when you got home today, you were going to take your temperature and then get in bed. 

You had to wait by the Bronco for such a long time, you contemplated texting Bradley to see what the holdup was. It was late, you were actually starving, and you wanted to go home. You shifted your bag from one shoulder to the other, beyond annoyed that there was only one key to this thing; you couldn't even sit inside. You glared at the pretty blue paint, really missing your ugly red car with your whole heart when you heard boots pounding the pavement behind you.

"I'm so sorry, Baby Girl," Bradley gasped. He must have run the whole way here from the tarmac since he was still in his flight suit. "We ran over. I should have left the keys with you this morning. I"m sorry."

You nodded as he helped you in the passenger side door and buckled you in. "Okay."

He pulled out of the parking garage, glancing at you every few seconds. "All you're going to say is okay?"

You yawned wishing you could get undressed. "What do you want me to say, Bradley?"

He was quiet for a few blocks, but when he turned down your street, he let loose. "I want you to say something more than okay. I want you to fucking talk to me, alright? I feel like everything I'm doing right now is making you mad at me, and I hate that. I fucking hate it." He hit the brakes a little hard in the driveway, and now you were alert as you started crying. 

"Fuck!" Bradley growled, hands gripping the steering wheel. "I'm sorry." He looked so upset right now, you didn't even know what to do as tears streamed down your cheeks. Then he was running across the driveway and helping you out of the Bronco and into the house, but the tears kept coming. And now your head was throbbing and you felt so sick. 

"I just want to go to bed," you gasped. "Please," you begged as he kissed your forehead over and over again while Tramp jumped around. 

"Of course," Bradley whispered, his lips meeting your face again before he knelt in front of you. He kissed your thighs through your khaki pants and helped you out of your boots, looking up at your face which you were sure looked like a wreck. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry I yelled." 

"It's okay," you managed as the room spun a little bit. "I just need to get in bed."

He carried you there, and it felt amazing to not have to walk. Then he set you on the bed and undressed you as he asked, "Do you want some water? A snack?"

You nodded and got under the covers, and said, "Yes, please," as you started to doze off. All you managed to do was eat a handful of trail mix and chug a glass of water before you passed out. 

When you eventually woke up, you felt a little better, but when you rolled over, the other half of the bed was empty and cold. It was eight in the morning according to your phone. You'd just slept for over twelve hours, and Bradley was out playing golf now. The cool fabric of his pillow on your face felt so nice, you rolled over all the way. You must have a fever and the flu. You felt too hot, and your breasts were aching. So was your abdomen. Your period was probably about to start. 

You frowned and looked at your phone again, opening the calendar app. It was Carole's birthday, but it was apparently also five weeks since you'd had your period. "Oh my god." You practically fell out of the bed, your legs tangling up in the sheets as you tried to get to your feet. 

"Oh shit," you gasped, running for the bathroom. You didn't know what to do first, but your stomach won as you lunged for the toilet and threw up everything in your stomach. "Gross," you groaned as you flushed the toilet, but as soon as you tried to stand, more came up. Your heart was thudding in your chest as you forced yourself to be patient and let your stomach empty itself.

When you finally could, you got to your feet again, removing your glasses to rinse your mouth out and splash water on your face. Then you dried yourself and slid them back on. You eyed the linen closet next to the door in the mirror before turning around slowly. As you strode across the tile floor, Tramp came in to investigate, but you ignored him as you closed the distance to where you thought you might have one last pregnancy test hidden away.

You opened the narrow door and knelt down, and then you started throwing everything from the bottom shelves over your shoulders, frantically searching. You saw the box, and you tore it open. You already knew what to do, because you'd done it so many times before, but your hands were shaking as you removed the test and looked at it on your palm in the foil wrapper. 

Tramp whimpered at you as you got to your feet again and made it to the toilet, this time pulling your underwear down as you went. When the wrapper fell away, you took the test, hands shaking as you set it on the edge of the sink vanity when you were done. Then you wiped as you started to panic. Three minutes. You needed to wait for three minutes. 

Your phone was simply too far away as you started counting out loud, your voice echoing around your bathroom. It wasn't ready yet. You climbed into the empty bathtub, sitting and wrapping your arms around your knees. And you counted. 

You closed your eyes, and you counted. You looked at Tramp, and you counted. You pressed your forehead to your knees, and you counted all the way until you reached one hundred and eighty. 

"Three minutes," you whispered, your heart beating so hard, it was making you feel like you might need to throw up again. You climbed out of the tub onto unsteady legs and held your breath as you walked to the vanity. Very carefully, like it was the most precious thing you'd ever touched, you picked up the test. You checked the result before promptly dropping it to the floor.

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Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 27

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@ughthisisntright

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

[issdisgrace]

Hi hello, would you mind writing sa male resder x Oscar piastri fluff? Like just something really tame, like cuddling in bed, or comforting him after a bad race, or taking care of him when sick, or maybe some angst? He gets jealous cause some guy is flirting with reader, but fluff would be really nice, hope this isn't too long 😭😭 thx

MY SICK BABY

WARNINGS: None

A/N: Sorry this took so long, have been neglecting my writing and basically all other aspects in my life. But I hope you like this none the less.

Oscar didn't get sick often. In fact, the last time he was sick was almost a year. But when he did get sick he wasn't just sick, he was sick.

So when Oscar started feeling ill Friday night, dread sunk its way into his stomach. He knew that this weekend would be hell for him and god was he right.

He woke up Saturday morning with a pounding headache and a stuffy nose. He took some meds to help with it before he went out to the track, which helped some. However, he still felt quite miserable and others could see it, but despite this he had managed to qualify pretty good. Anyway, it was later that night everything just got worse, and the coughing started. He felt like he was suffocating, his chest hurt, he couldn't sleep, so he ended up calling you.

You were really concerned when you got a call from Oscar at 1 in the morning. But as soon as he started talking it was clear why he was calling you. He was sick. You felt bad as you listened to him explain everything. You suggested a couple of things that would hopefully help, which he appreciated, and you ended up staying on the phone till he fell asleep.

Then Sunday came, and despite your suggestions and some meds he still felt and now looked like hell. But he pushed himself, ignoring everything his body and others were telling him. He was going to race today even if it killed him. When he got out on the track, he felt surprisingly good and raced his ass off getting p3. Then he came in and his adrenaline came down and he felt worse than he did before. He had just made it through podium before he yacked up the contents of his stomach. He was grateful that the team didn't force him to do media after and just sent back to his hotel.

He managed to get some rest, which did him some good but before he knew it he 8pm and he needed to head to the airport for his flight home. Oscar was happy to be going home, and that flight was only 2 hours, but god those 2 hours were the absolute worse in his life. The turbulence was god awful, everyone and everything was just to loud, he had a hard time keeping whatever was left in his stomach down, and his nose just kept running.

By the time the plane landed around 11pm, he was ready to just cuddle up in bed with you and sleep for the next 24 hours. Picking Oscar up from the airport, you asked questions about how he was feeling wanting to gauge what you needed to do to help him feel better. Oscar told you and you made a mental note of everything as you headed home.

Once you guys were home, you got Oscar into pajamas and then got him some cold medicine and some soup that you had made earlier. He happily had to the soup as it was his favorite chicken noodle. But he reluctantly took the cold medicine because it tasted god awful. But he took it like the good boy he is.

You then got him all tucked into bed with the tv playing some old detective show that Oscar liked to watch. Kissed him goodnight and told him if he needed you, you would be asleep in the guest bedroom. Oscar wished you stayed with him, but he knew you didn't want to get sick as well.

Anyway, it was around 6 am when Oscar woke up. He felt hot and ill and quickly got out of bed to throw up the contents of his stomach into the toilet. Having woken up early and hearing the shuffling, then the throwing up, you quickly rushed to Oscar. Siting on the floor beside him, rubbing his back trying to soothe him.

You sit with him rubbing his back until he done throwing up. After he’s done you carefully get him back into bed. Then go and get the thermometer to take his temperature. You take his temperature and it reads 101 degrees Fahrenheit. It’s not good but it’s not as bad as it could be.

You get him some more cold medicine and water. You make sure he drinks all the water and then get a cool damp wash cloth on his forehead. You turn then turn the tv which shut off probably sometime in night. You put on some cartoons. They’re easy and you don’t got to think or follow much. Perfect for someone that is sick.

You then get everything set up for Oscar so he can take care of himself while your gone at work for the day. You’re a little reluctant to leave Oscar but you knew you had to work. You told Oscar to keep you updated in how he was doing.

When you got home from work, you immediately went and checked Oscar and found him asleep, cartoons still playing on the tv. You smile to yourself as you leave and go make dinner. When you’re almost done with dinner you hear the soft footsteps of Oscar coming down the hallway, you look up and greet him. He definitely looks better than he did this morning. You ask him how he’s feeling and he was better like you expected.

This routine of getting him set up in the morning and going to work and coming home and checking on him and then making dinner goes on for a 9 days, until Oscar feels completely better.

Oscar is really appreciative of you taking care of him while he was sick and took you out to dinner at a nice place as a thank you. Despite your insistence that he didn’t need to, that you were his partner and that taking care of him when he was sick came with that. While you were out for dinner you started sneezing a lot.

And by the next morning you were sick and it was Oscar’s turn to take care of you while you were sick.

[myers-meadow]

Wheat fields: Tommy x reader

Title: Wheat fields, or: Picnic date ✨🌻🌱 Part one here.

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x f! reader

Summary: After running into Tommy and sharing a kiss or two, he finally asks you out. He takes you outside the city for a wonderful picnic, where you share more than those chaste kisses from before.

Word count: 2201

Warnings: none. fluff. They have a few glasses of wine. Soft Tommy.

This is a continuation of Chance Meetings, but I'm sure it's good as a standalone one-shot too. Thank you so much to @moxleyhorror for beta reading and giving me the encouragment I needed to get this done! <3 Dividers by @saradika-graphics. I'd love to hear what you think! Enjoy! <3

After those first few meetings, you couldn't stop thinking about him. 'It was just a kiss', you had to remind yourself, 'nothing more. And it certainly doesn't mean anything.' Yet, when you ran into him again when purchasing a newspaper, your heart surged, and you knew he'd break your heart if you let him.

"Fancy seeing you here," Tommy said, voice so soft only you could hear, leaning in as you went up to the counter to pay. "I'd almost suspect you were following me, with how often this keeps happening."

"You'd think so," you hummed, trying not to go weak in the knees as you remember the kiss and hushed words that were your last meeting. "It's coincidental for sure."

Before you could find a the right amount of pennies in your purse, Tommy already pressed two coins on the counter, and led you out of the small store with a firm hand on the small of your back. You looked back hesistantly but his voice drew your attention back to him.

"You don't believe in fate?"

"No. Do you?"

He shook his head. Even outside, he didn't let go of your waist. He glanced around from under his cap, letting the shadow fall over his eyes, as he surveyed the street. "Listen. This weekend, are you free on Sunday? Be it after church, if you need." His piercing blue eyes looked at you from under the rim of his cap. Seeing your confusion, he cleared his throat and said; "I'd like to take you out."

For a moment, your heart skipped a beat, as the full weight of what he was asking slowly processed. He'd break your heart, for sure, it felt like. There's no other way for this to end. Another private moment with Tommy... He'd have it beat so fast, that just a look from him, a soft smile, soft spoken priase, would send your heart in a frenzy and there's nothing you could even think of to stop him from doing so. Yet, as your mind flared with worry, insecurity, better judgement - it was your heart that answered.

"Yes, after church, I'm free. What for?"

He smiled. The sight alone made you melt. "Good. I'll pick you up, then. Dress practical. For now, I have some business to take care of. See you Sunday, love."

With a final, lingering look at you, he left, crossing the street and disappearing into the crowd. Leaving you, standing there, to stare after him, feeling the heat in your cheeks slowly fade, replaying the way his deliciously gruff voice called you 'love'.

When Sunday came around, you didn't know what to expect, what he had planned. Was he really taking you out? Where to? 'Dress practical', alright, so what did that mean?

Regardless, you kept on what you wore to church, it was maybe a little formal, so you changed your shoes to your most comfortable pair. Your checked yourself once again, just to be sure. As for most of your kin, there wasn't a lot of money going around, but you still liked to dress nice.

The doorbell rang, and you ran down the stairs before steadying yourself for a second, before swining open the door. It was Tommy, perfectly on time. He smiled as he saw you. His car was parked behind him.

"You ready?" he asked, before gesturing to the car. You follow him, and he opens the door for you, before sliding in himself. What a shiny black thing, you thought, as you looked at the interior. It looked well taken care of. On the backseat was a basket, the contents covered by cloth.

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise," Tommy mused, and started the car. Once out of the street, you reached for the cigarette case in your purse and gave him one too. He leant in so you could light his cigarette for him, and you smoke in silence. The road he took, lead you out of the city, past the industrial side of Birmingham, past the open country, following a bumpy dirt road.

Aside from some small talk, the ride was quiet, and after leaving the city, it barely took half an hour before Tommy stopped the car at the side of the road. A green landscape stretched before you. The air smelt clean, once the car engine was shut off. Some farms were visible in the distance, surrounded with yellow wheat fields swaying in the wind. You open the car door and step out, glad you wore something practical. Tommy followed you, grabbing the basked from the back seat.

"Where is this place?" you asked, as you step through the high grass next to the dirt road. There were some oak trees up ahead, and Tommy lead you there.

"It's peaceful, isn't it," he responded, "but it's no place in particular. Here, help me with the blanket."

He handed you one side of it and together, you spread it on the ground, landing softly in the grass. Nearby a bee buzzed from a dandelion to a small daisy that hides in the grass. Tommy set down the basket on the blanket and kneels down on it. You followed, kicking off your shoes to be more comfortable. 

"Are you hungry?" Reaching into the basket, he took out half a loaf of bread and a big knife to cut it with. "Or thirsty, rather?" A bottle of rosé wine followed, with two glasses.

"I didn't take you as someone fond of wine," you took the bottle from him and undid the cap. He continued unpacking the basket, some fruit followed; cherries, an apple for you each, and a few plums. 

"The exception is due to the occasion," was all he said, and took the glass you poured for him as you hold it out to him.

You smiled softly, leaning back on your hands, enjoying the sun on your face. "I didn't think you'd ask me out," you mused, without any accusation in your voice.

Tommy took off his cap, messing with his hair, before setting it aside. He takes in your content expression and tries a sip of wine. "Well, you're hard to forget."

You glanced at him, his confession was more than you'd expected in the first place. "It's lovely out here. So nice to be out of the city. I remember growing up, how all we did was travel, and we didn't deal with city folk as much as we do now."

He shifted his position to a more comfortable one, crossing his legs and leaning his elbows on his knees. "Are you alright staying in Birmingham? You stay with the Lees, right?"

You nodded. "It's all good. Just glad to be away for now. Did you prepare all of this yourself?"

He chuckled, studying you some more. "Polly helped," he admitted. He pushed the bread and cheese towards you and you helped yourself. It was good, a nice, flavourful soft goat cheese. Luxury for you. You wondered if he got it just for the occasion, to show off, or whether it was a household staple for the Shelbys. You sipped the wine to wash it down. Instead of eating, Tommy went for a cigarette. As he took it out of the case, your hand instinctively found your matchbox and before he could reach for his own, you struck a match. With the mildest surprise in his expression, he leaned in and let you light it for him.

"I hope you don't expect me to eat by myself, Tommy."

He chuckled softly, taking the cigarette between two fingers. "I'll have some in a moment, I'm just... taking in the atmosphere."

So you sat together, and you shifted too, knees brushing together, and you looked around. Nothing. For miles. Just quiet. No machinery, nothing but birds chirping and wind rustling through leaves. With a deep sigh, you slowly relaxed. Soon, both your glasses were empty, and you poured them full again. The wine was warming up, and even though it didn't help the taste, it was vaguely romantic to share a bottle with him. Did he think you'd be the type for rosé, and is that why he brought it? No use in asking, you supposed, and instead you took the knife and cut a plum in half. It was so ripe that the juice dripped down your palm. The pit came away with ease. You offered half to Tommy, before taking your first bite.

"Ah, it's so ripe," you said, "I love plums."

With another look at you, he ate his half in two bites, chewing slowly. As you finished eating, you looked around for a handkerchief to wipe your sticky fingers with, but instead, Tommy took your hand in his. 

"Here, let me," he said, and brought your fingers to his lips. Astonished, you let him suck the juices off, his mouth warm and soft, a heated blush creeping up your neck. His sky blue eyes watched your every reaction as you shifted to accomodate the distance. His free hand cupped the back of your head, and you were more than eager to taste the plum on his lips. This kiss was nothing like the caste ones you shared before; openmouthed and hungry. Only a moment of connection passed, before you were in his lap, straddling his hips. You tried to steady yourself by gripping onto his lapels, pressing your body to his. His lips were warm and firm, tasting of tangy sweet plum and cigarettes. With the way his fingers treaded into the hair at the nape of your neck, there was no breaking the kiss. He took his time exploring your mouth, your lips, his tongue dancing with yours, before his lips moved to your ear, teeth tugging at the lobe.

"I rather like plums too," he chuckled sotfly, breath tickling your ear. His hands needed their way up your sides, feeling your body in ways that heated you all over. You kissed his neck, or; the small bit of it that his collar left exposed, and pushed his head back to follow the line of the jugular. He shivered and let you push him down into the grass. 

"You're a very good kisser," you mused, between nips, making your way back up to his ear. "Would you like something sweeter?" Seperating yourself from him with another kiss to his lips, you leant back up, enjoying the sight of him underneath you. As much as you tried to ignore the way your core pressed over his bulge, or what could be a revolver in his trousers - with Tommy there was no way to really tell - leaning back to grab another plum and the knife had you grind against it deliciously. He noticed your small whimper, and propped up his knees to have you move forward again, making you laugh sweetly at his teasing.

"Be careful, I'm holding a knife." Yet you both were still laughing. The second plum was just as ripe as the first. You threw the pit away in the grass, getting a small vision of a fully grown plum tree, branches heavy with fruit, all thanks to you and Tommy's little tryst outside the city many years prior. You took the first bite, not chewing yet, instead, leaning down to feed it to him, letting him take it from between your teeth.

"It's certainly sweeter this way," Tommy said, swallowing. "But perhaps there's something I'd rather have, instead..."

As he pulled you down to him again, you gladly joined him and let him roll you over, so you were on your back in the prickly grass. The knife left discarded on the blanket; the sounds of birds, crickets and a cow mooing in the distance soon overshadowed by the wet sounds of your kisses, soft moans and sweet nothings whispered in your ear. 

When he dropped you off at your home, he let you keep the basket with some leftover bread and fruits, and he kissed you by the door, his hand pressing you into his chest in a way that had you craving more. You mulled the question over, whether to invite him in or not. After all, you two hadn't slept together out there in the fields - you were too much a romantic at heart, but now that the moment was over, you still wanted him desperately. It would be devastating if this day was over, and you'd lie in bed to regret everything you didn't get to do, feel, experience... 

"Are you free on Tuesday evening?" he asked, voice still a bit hoarse from all the kissing. The way he looked at you from under his cap could only be described as hopeful, and it made your heart surge.

"For you, I'm free any time," you said with a playful smile. "Will you take me out again?"

He gave a curt nod, glancing over you briefly. Hopefully there weren't any noticable grass stains, this was your nicest dress. "But it's a surprise, all right?"

You looped your arm around his neck and kissed him again. "I can't wait." And from the way he returned your kiss, you knew he couldn't either.

[lackofspace]

Hey! this has been on my head for a while, so I'm just gonna leave it here and hope that it leaves my mind :)

ps: I wrote this really fast, I did not check for misspellings at all, english is not my first language and it's my first time writing anything!!! so please thread lightly lol

birdflash where they've been friends so long that Wally has known Dick's and Bruce's id's before most of the rest of the family were even adopted, close enough that when Wally 'retires' and goes to college he still recieves texts from Dick's siblings asking for help with cases or homework when Dick himself isn't available and so, we come to our plot

Bruce is getting married (to whom is up to you) and while Wally sees himself as a close family friend he doesn't get an invite, which, in his mind it's fine since well it's Bruce Wayne/Batman it'll probably be a really small lowkey thing only family and some friends and he's honestly not upset at all until he's hanging out in the Manor a couple of weeks before the wedding with Jason and Damian that it comes up

'Did you get fitted today?' Jason asks Damian, he's typing in his phone slanted over a armchair in the corner of the library

'Yes, although I do not see the need for another suit' He's in front of Wally with his physics homework open in the room's coffe table, 'Father seems to think we are all heathens who cannot keep a suit intact for more than a night' the comment clearly a jab

'Ah yes, I'm sorry mister prim and proper, it was not my intention to inconvenience you' Jason rolls his eyes still glued to his phone

'What about you, Wallace? Do you have a suit? Do make sure you get an approval from Alfred, the ceremony will be an informal one but he would hate the family photos not looking proper because of your two sizes bigger attire' Damian says not even looking up from his notebook

'Well then Alfred will be happy to hear he does not have to worry because I'm not coming' He responds laughing a bit

And that makes them both look up in sync with matching glares that make Wally jump a bit

'Why ever not? Do you have prior arrangements? I understand if that's the case but surely they can be postponed?' Damian frowns

'Is it college stuff? The wedding is going to be on a sunday, no way it's college, you're a nerd so there's also no way you can't skip having to study for a test for one day' Jason remarks, he's sitting up now phone forgotten

Wally is surprised with how much his absence at the wedding seems to annoy them

'It's nothing like that guys, I just didn't get an invitation, I figured your dad is doing a lowkey thing and there's not going to be many guests so I get it, I'm not mad or anything' He says in a tone that seems to be to placate them and he does not understand why

'But I swear I'm not upset! Don't tell your dad, I don't want to cause any trouble for the preparations and I'm sure everything will be beautiful' he spills the words quickly before they can interrupt him

'You were not invited?' Damian says face contorting into a frown even more

'Uh yeah, Uncle Barry and Aunt Iris got one, it wasn't metioned I could come and I swear I wasn't- am not! upset but, I asked Donna if she was invited and she said that she was, through Diana, so I guessed that if Barry and Iris' invitation didn't mention anything then... yeah' he says shrugging

'What the hell?' Jason exclaims picking up his phone and texting someone 'Did you only ask Donna?'

'Yeah?' Wally says, unsure

'Roy is coming too' Jason tells him

'Oh?' Wally doesn't know if that's supposed to make him feel better

'I invited him, dipshit, we were all granted plus ones, even the demon brat is bringing someone'

'They are coming as a friend' Damian remarks glaring 'Richard should have communicated you sooner'

'Uh well maybe Dick is bringing someone else?' and if until now nothing about the situation had particularly made him sad, this thought springing in to his head and out his mouth made his hands ache because of course, of course he was just another among many in love with the absolute sun that was Dick Grayson

While they remained friends Wally had made his feelings known sometime ago, the rejection had hit hard but it was true that their friendship was more important so they tried to keep as they were, unfortunately communication became strained and they didn't hang out as much that with college and Wally's feelings between them and so it escaped Wally why his siblings thought that he would be Dick's plus one for a wedding, his father's wedding no less

'This is important, maybe he thought bringing me might be weird?' This is not where Wally thought his impromptu tutoring session/hang out was going to go, he feels somehow like he's in the wrong for not getting an invitation with the way they are looking at him

'Bruce didn't send invites to those he knew were coming anyway' Jason states 'Dickhead was supposed to invite you'

'I'm sorry...? but he didn't, guys let's forget about this ok? I'm sure Dick has his reasons, the ceremony is going to look amazing and you guys can show me pictures later, how about that?' trying to end the subject less they discover why he does not appear at the manor unannounced anymore and why he chose a university so far away

that's kind all I have in me ya'll, this was mostly trying to show how much Dick and Wally are so involved in each other's lives that they become a package deal to everyone else, the story is supposed to go: batgossip and confusion since they know Dick is in fact in L O V E with Wally and bat siblings scheming while birdflash pine, ANGST!!! (the whole reason I wrote this honestly, I love angst and requited unrequited feelings), feelings realization and their happy ever after weeks later when Wally shows up as Dick's plus one

[suddencolds]

of painkillers and lenience

...hello! 😭 I wrote this way back in April; it's been sitting in my drafts ever since. Chronologically, it takes place shortly following Atypical Occurrence.

I wasn't sure if I was ever going to post this. I suppose it's more a character study than a proper romantic installment :') but it's an exchange I'd been wanting to write for a long time.

you can find everything I've written in this universe here!

—

Summary: Yves comes down with something. His best friend wonders where Vincent is, in all of this.

—

Perhaps it’s merciful that it’s on a Sunday that Yves wakes up with the slightest tickle in his throat.

Yves has an idea what it means. He’s had the flu enough times in his life to know that it comes on quickly. Maybe if he attempts to sleep it off, he’ll have a better time over the next few days.

Or maybe not. He cancels his Sunday plans, goes through his itinerary. There’s a slew of emails he’ll have to send off, a handful of meetings he’ll probably have to reschedule for this coming work week. He’ll need groceries, too, to last him the week—ideally something that won’t take too much effort to make. Resting now seems like it’d be a waste of time. Best to get everything over with before the illness has a chance to properly settle, he thinks. 

He really does mean to stop by the grocery store. It’s perhaps just the timing that doesn’t work out as planned. Between figuring out how to reschedule everything that’s coming up with work—figuring out who he can ask if he needs to reallocate any of his assignments to anyone else, rearranging things for clients, and getting all the paperwork in order—all of it takes him nearly two hours. He wanders into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea, finds himself having to turn aside to cough, notes the unpleasant sting in his throat when he turns back around. 

It’s not terrible yet, but he feels distinctly off. His head feels a little heavy, and everything he does feels strangely—sluggish, maybe. Like he can’t quite manage to be as efficient as usual. Judging by past experience, he’s probably going to crash in a few hours.

He can already feel a headache brewing. Staring at his computer screen probably hasn’t helped with that. If he takes something for it, it’ll probably be at least tolerable when it gets worse.

He opens the medicine cabinet, rifles through the couple bottles and the first aid kit he has stashed in there.

Right. He’s out of Advil.

It’s no matter. Just a quick grocery trip, then—he can grab the rest of his groceries while he’s at it. Yves shuts the bathroom cabinet, grabs his wallet and keys, and makes it all the way to the doorstep outside when the wave of dizziness hits him.

All of a sudden, he feels a little lightheaded. Heat crawls up under his skin, prickling and unpleasant, as if something in him has cranked up the heat generation to the max—but that can’t be right, because he’s shivering inexplicably in the wake of it. He leans his weight back against the wall, squeezes his eyes shut.

Fuck. He probably should have gotten groceries first, before sorting out everything for work. Perhaps going out on his own now would not be the wisest.

He heads back in, locks the door, and—after some thought—calls Mikhail.

Mikhail picks up on the second ring. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Are you busy?” Yves starts, but the words catch on his throat, and he has to stop immediately to muffle a cough into his elbow. 

There’s a moment of silence on the other end. “It depends what you’re about to ask me for,” Mikhail says.

Yves swallows. Shuts his eyes. He doesn’t like asking for help, but he doesn’t think he’ll be in any state to be doing this on his own over the next few days. “It’s not that urgent. Just if you have time,” he says. 

He can almost feel Mikhail rolling his eyes on the other end. “You’d say that even if you were bleeding out.”

Yves laughs, startled. “I promise I’m not bleeding out. Just—do you think you could run to the store and get me some Advil?”

There’s another, longer pause on the other end. “Any time is fine,” Yves says. A part of him already regrets this. “If you’re busy right now—”

“I’ll be over in a few,” Mikhail says. Then the line goes dead.

—

He doesn’t remember drifting off, but when he wakes, it’s to a knock on the front door.

The knock is just for courtesy, of course. Mikhail is one of a few people whom he’s permitted the privilege—or the burden, perhaps—of having a spare copy of his apartment key.

Yves opens the door anyways.

There, in the windy April weather, Mikhail shuts an umbrella and leaves it dripping at his feet. “You look even worse than you sounded over call,” is the first thing he says.

Yves blinks at him, surprised. “Did I really sound that bad?”

In lieu of answering, Mikhail just looks at him, scrutinizing, the corner of his lip ticking downward. “What is it? An injury? A migraine?” When Yves shakes his head, Mikhail presses forward to pick a stray lint ball off of Yves’s shirt. His hand makes contact with Yves’s shoulder, and he frowns.

Before Yves has a chance to explain, he feels a tickle—not the first, today, and certainly not the last—surface. It’s irritatingly difficult to ignore, more irritating still when he finds himself forced to turn away, to duck into one arm—

“hHehh-!’ hEHh’yyiISCHh-HHEEW!”

The sneeze is rough enough to scrape against his throat. He coughs tightly into his raised arm.

“A cold,” Mikhail says, with a frown. “But usually you don’t take Advil for colds. Wait—don’t tell me this is something worse?”

Yves winces. What is he supposed to say to that? “The Advil was all I needed,” he says. “Thanks for making the trip. I owe you one.”

“No, I’m sure of it now,” Mikhail says. “If it were only a cold, you would’ve driven out to get this yourself.”

“It probably isn’t,” Yves says, neglecting to mention that he knows exactly where he caught this. “Thanks for bringing these. I’ll take the next couple days off. I—”

The next sneeze sneaks up on him. He ducks into his sleeve again, taking another step back.

“hHhEH’iiDzzsCHH-yYew!” The sneeze sends a burst of pain through his temples, and for a moment, he’s glad his face is too deeply buried into his sleeve for Mikhail to see.

“Does Vincent know?” Mikhail asks.

The question catches him off guard. “What?”

“That you’re apparently unwell enough to ask me to pick up Advil for you.”

Yves doesn’t like where this conversation is going. “I told you not to come if you were busy.”

“It’s not a problem,” Mikhail says. “But if you’re sick, shouldn’t he be over here, taking care of you?”

 “He’s had a really busy few weeks,” Yves says, which is true, but simultaneously might be true at any point during the year. He clears his throat. “I - coughcough - wouldn’t want him to catch this.”

“So he doesn’t even know,” Mikhail says.

…Perhaps Yves should’ve thought of a more convincing excuse. Mikhail isn’t the type of person to drop an issue after he’s raised it, and Yves had, perhaps, neglected to think about how—for all Mikhail does to appear casually disaffected—he’s one of the most perceptive people Yves has ever met. “He doesn’t have to know.”

“What are you talking about? He’s your partner. I’ll text him,” Mikhail says. It’s then when Yves recalls that Mikhail probably does have Vincent’s contact—exchanged before their trip to France, so that he could text them all to coordinate the rides to and from the airport.

“Wait,” Yves says, unable to keep the panic out of his voice. “Don’t. If you text him, he’ll - snf-! - feel obligated to come.”

Mikhail doesn’t lower his phone. “I’ll just ask him to drop by,” he says. “You can talk to him about it when he gets there.”

But that won’t happen—can’t happen—because Yves knows that if Vincent were to see him like this… 

I’d feel terrible if you caught this, he’d said. He’d sounded so upset over it. How can Yves, after all his reassurances last week, admit to him now that he’s faring badly enough to need someone to look after him? 

Besides, Vincent probably has enough on his plate already. Yves knows enough to know that in their line of work, taking time off almost always means being swamped with assignments upon return. 

“Please don’t ask him anything,” Yves says.

Mikhail looks long and hard at him. He looks as though he’s trying to puzzle something out. “Did you guys get into a fight, or something?”

“No,” Yves says. “It’s nothing like that.”

“Then, if you’re on good terms, why are you so resistant to the idea of him coming over?”

Yves squeezes his eyes shut, and then opens them. He can think of a dozen more excuses to field away the questions—that isn’t the hard part. Mikhail has always been good at seeing through his bullshit, but if Yves has to steer this conversation to a close through sheer willpower, he thinks he can do it. But then again—

Maybe it’s fine, he thinks, if Mikhail knows. For better or for worse, Mikhail is his best friend. Yves knows that if he asks him to keep his mouth shut about this, he will. 

“Vincent is my coworker,” he says, slowly.

Mikhail’s eyebrows creep up. “Yes, I’m aware.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Yves says, with a cough. “He is just my coworker. Nothing else.”

The alarm that flashes across Mikhail’s face is unmissable. “You two broke up?”

And there it is—another crossroads, where Yves thinks the easiest course of action would be to reshape the current lie into a simpler one, to keep the trappings of their fake relationship intact. With anyone else, it would be easier, that is.

Yves says, honestly, “We were never together in the first place.”

“But you went with him to France,” Mikhail says, confused. “Not to mention, to Margot’s new year party, and then to Joel and Cherie’s housewarming. Are you telling me—”

“That was all an act,” Yves tells him, and waits for this information to register. “There is nothing between us that’s real. That’s the reason I haven’t called him.”

The recognition settles on Mikhail’s face. Then he laughs, a little disbelieving. “You’re really not dating him? Why would you lie about that?”

“Do you remember Margot’s party?” Yves asks. It seems like the right place to start, after everything. “Erika was there with Brendon. And I was bitter, and—to be honest, jealous—and I wanted to show her I was fine. So I asked Vincent to go with me.”

“That was months ago,” Mikhail says.

“It was easier to just keep up the act, after that.” Yves says. “Easier to have him accompany me once a month than it would have been to stage a proper breakup. But obviously, this is all temporary. I just haven’t figured out when it’s going to end.”

Mikhail is quiet for a moment. Yves looks past him, at the staircase that leads down to the first floor.

“You’ll be fine, then,” he asks. “If you two break it off.”

“Of course,” Yves says. “I know it’s going to happen someday.”

“You won’t be upset at all?”

“What is there to be upset over?”

“From the way you spoke to him, I really thought there was something there,” Mikhail says.

“He is a good liar,” Yves says.

“Maybe so,” Mikhail agrees. “But you are not.”

He says it so calmly, it barely registers as an accusation. But Yves hears it, loud and clear.

“Vincent is attractive,” Yves says. “Anyone with eyes can see that. That’s all there is to it.” it feels wrong, even as he says it. Yves has always known Vincent to be attractive—that much hasn’t changed. But he knows that the feeling in his chest when he sees him at work, in the break room, or at lunch—the unusual ache—is a little more than that. 

“Margot’s party was at the end of December,” Mikhail says. “It’s April, now. Margot wouldn’t tell you this, but since I don’t like withholding my feelings from you, I will.”

Yves waits—waits for Mikhail to tell him how all of this has been unduly dishonest, how Mikhail doesn’t appreciate having been lied to.

But Mikhail doesn’t say any of that. Instead, he says: “If you’re still intent on keeping this fake relationship up…” Here, he meets Yves’s eyes, a little sternly. “You should think about who you’re really doing it for.”

It’s only for convenience, Yves wants to say. Now that we’ve set things up already, it’s merely the path of least resistance. But that isn’t quite right, is it?

“Don’t worry about me,” Yves says, trying a smile. “Vincent and I have talked this through already. Whatever happens with our arrangement, I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Mikhail says. He pockets his phone, and then hands Yves the bottle of Advil. “Sorry for the interrogation, then. If you believe it to be fine, I trust you.” Perhaps that’s the worst part of it. Mikhail has never been the type of person to stay quiet about any foreseeable problems, but Yves knows that his agreement now is not a tactical retreat, nor is it an acknowledgment that it’s not worth arguing over something they won’t agree on. Mikhail is dropping the subject because he really trusts him.

Yves just doesn’t know if that trust is justified.

Mikhail turns on his heels, steps delicately past the hinge at the bottom of the doorframe. 

Yves clears his throat. “Thanks for stopping by.”

Mikhail nods. “Feel better soon. If you need anything other than Advil, just give me a call.”

Then he’s gone. Yves shuts the front door behind him and wonders just what exactly he’s gotten himself into.

[bridgetoesoteria]

💓Sunday Special: What lessons are your ancestors tired of you repeating?

In the spirit of Sunday, I wanted to post something that digs deep. What lesson(s) do they see you constantly repeating? Why does it matter? How can you move past it?

This reading is open to anyone who believes in some kind of guiding higher power, you needn't resonate with the term "ancestors." I'll be using terms interchangeably throughout.

As always, piles are left to right and I hope it resonates 😙

~ K

No TL;DRs with this post. Sorry not sorry 💋

Pile 1

Spread: 6 of Swords, The Lovers, King of Wands, Justice. Bottom of deck is The Star.

So this will be your main spread. It is about the lesson they see you repeating the most. When I started shuffling I heard "naive/naivete." I also heard, "you can't heal in the place that you are broken." I don't know if that's exactly how the phrase goes, but the gist is that you can't expect to get better in the same place that is harming you.

Coming back to your spread, for many of you this is pretty cut and clear. You are back and forth with someone. You could be in a constant "healing cycle" because of this person or situation. For some of you this person could be your dad. Maybe you would like to build a healthy relationship with them but it never works out. For others, I think this is some kind of romantic situation.

I've never seen the lovers card in this way but I'm noticing how much smaller the girl looks than the guy. Some of you could deal with toxic men who are older than you or controlling. **TW: Abuse** I clarified and it seems like some of you could be in an abusive situation which could explain the cyclical nature I was picking up on.

Whatever it is clearly breaks you down. You may want to end whatever this is but you don't know if you can trust your intuition and that you will be okay.

To be very clear, I do not believe in any kind of victim blaming. I wasn't expecting this message. So I don't mean "lesson," as way to imply you are doing it to yourself. In this pile its more like what concerning cycle are you repeating.

Why does it matter

I'm using this relationship question deck I bought online. Its not made with the purposes of tarot. The two cards on the left came out together which I think is meaningful.

It matters that you break this cycle because it is important that you build trust in yourself and your spirituality. Whatever higher power(s) you believe in, do you believe they can take you through anything? Do you believe that you will be supported if you take step in the direction you feel guided? This repeating scenario is similar to picking at a scab or poking at a wound. It is hurting you in the same place again and again, so you can never fully heal. For some of you, you may have kids that are watching you repeat this cycle.

Besides that I am finding it hard to pick up on anything else. So I think you are supposed to look over the cards and do some soul searching. It will probably have a different message for everyone.

How can you move past it

Power and Intention (Oracle) + Ease and Grace (Oracle)

I do think its worth noting that Guardian Angel is a the bottom of the deck. More than anything, I am getting to trust your angels (or guides, ancestors... you know what I mean). They don't want you to rush the process or to look to far ahead. Take everything step by step and remain grounded. Reach out to on your spirit team and trust the guidance you receive. Rely on any strong friends you have around you.

For some I am getting a male family member. This person could be older you and pretty serious, but their eyes hold a lot of emotion. Deep down they want to see you do better and will step up if you call on them. This could also be friend or someone that has passed.

Incorporating yoga, meditation, or other forms of mindfulness can help you navigate this situation. It can also help you get clear about your intentions.

Pile 2

Spread: 5 of Cups, Page of Swords, 2 of Pentacles, Ace of Swords. Bottom of deck is The Sun.

In some way, you could be ignoring the truth. Maybe you found out someone lied and you are very disappointed about that. Also, this might not be the first time you have been let down. I usually see the page of swords as a defensive card but usually this energy builds up over time. Like a bunch of small stuff just add up to the point where you are "always ready," with a certain person. So yeah...if you think/know someone is full of shit...they are.

The repeating lesson could very well be you continuing to forgive someone who insists on being a duplicitous ass. For many of you, it could be to the point where you are turning on yourself internally. Not sure what to think or do. I think you do what things to get better but you don't want to get burned.

Why does it matter

I'm using a non tarot, relationship deck for this question.

I see a message I was receiving earlier in these cards. I got a feeling that a few of you could want to study or pursue a career outside of what your family has deemed suitable or worthwhile. There could be certain expectations you are expected to live up to but I don't think you really want to. You are becoming more of a free spirit.

I'm not saying too much for this section in any of the piles. I feel like the messages will all be deeply personal and unique. So just reflect on the cards and see what revelations they hold for you.

How can you move past it

Compassion (Oracle) + Courage and Bravery (Oracle)

Just from looking at the cards I get an energy of bravery. I feel like you are being encouraged to step out on your own. You could resonate with Joan of Arc or the movie Brave. You could know that you have creative energy. So take that empress energy to plan and manifest your dreams.

Some of you need to turn that decadent, abundant energy inward and nurture yourself. For most of you, I think this card is asking you to extend compassion to yourself. It is asking you to find your joy and reasons to be happy in spite of the actions of others.

Your spirit team is asking you to call in reinforcements. They want you to know you don't have to go it alone. Not this time. Allow yourself to have human emotions about the reality of your situation. Don't judge yourself for whatever comes up. Some of you may feel guided to a "cut and clear" or some other kind of releasing/cleansing ritual. Your angels are with you right now. Some of you may want to be more honest and this card supports you speaking the truth.

Pile 3

Spread: 7 of Swords, The Star, The World, 10 of Pentacles. Bottom of deck is 2 of Wands.

So I was hearing "yikes on bikes," before I even drew the first card. Then I got the 7 of swords so yeahh... I am getting that most of you are the villain in this story. No judgement from me. We are just here to discuss the lesson your ancestors have watched you repeat too many times (for their liking anyway).

Some of you could be a little toxic. Maybe you are wishy-washy, up and down with your emotions, and a bit sneaky. I do think some people may have more than one person they are dealing with. You could be prone to emotional outbursts and possessiveness. This may or may not have been recommended to you yet, but you may want to consider speaking to a medical professional about this.

If it isn't you that is back and forth between two people, then you could be on the flipside. You could be on of two people that a particular person is dealing with.

However this resonates, I do think you have opportunities to get out of this but you don't act on them. You could even be making yourself "blind" to them because you are holding out hope.

Why does it matter

These cards are not tarot cards. They are from a relationship question deck I bought online. Please take some time to reflect on them. I believe they hold a unique message for everyone.

So the key to breaking this cycle may lie in your childhood. Maybe you were raised in a controlling or stifling atmosphere. This may make it hard for you to transition to being a full-blown "adult." Deep down you may not acknowledge how much you crave to feel totally uninhibited and it can lead to you being impulsive and somewhat emotionally immature.

Fret not, we do not need to be held back by our childhoods. Just because you are an adult does not mean you have to "get over it" or "grow up." There are plenty of ways to be lighthearted or expressive without upending your life.

There could be a specific support group that you would benefit from.

How can you move past it

Do The Work (Oracle) + Intuition and Downloads (Oracle)

I am using The Angel Guide Oracle for this question.

I think many of you know what needs to be done. You may also have people making recommendations to you. Do The Work makes it clear that there is some serious work that needs to be done to complete this lesson. You may feel tempted to escape this work because it feels challenging but you are being encourages to stick it out.

(Some of you could be struggling with substance abuse or another form of addiction. So this is kind of a mini intervention with your spirit team).

Intuition and Downloads speaks of receiving intuitive messages from your guides. For some of you it could come through in your dreams. You are really being urged to trust the "psychic insights" you are receiving. Trust that you are being led to healing and the best possible outcome.

[ddoxhan]

another life

I know I would love to just do laundry, take a walk in the park with you. in another life, I promise, we will.

word count : 0.5k words

genre : angst, fluff(?); two people who were each others' world and fate was against them; squint real real hard for that miniscule fluff; minji x gn! reader

t/w : none :)

a/n : newjeans world domination, and they've dominated me. SUMMERJEANS COMING SOON I'M EXCITED TO HYPERVENTILATE AND GAY PANIC OVER WHATEVER THEY'RE GONNA DROP.

to my dearest, I finally have the courage to tell you whatever I'm feeling for you. yet, I never had the chance to tell you in person. maybe I should have just sent you that text at midnight, maybe I should have told you about my feelings when we walked side by side at the park. maybe, but I didn't. was I a fool? I don't know, but I wasn't too sure about what I felt was right, was appropriate.

I didn't deserve you, who brightened up my life with her shine. the one who picked me up from my bottomless pit, showing me that there was no such thing as endless agony. the one who stuck by me even when I was closed off and hurt you multiple times, too many times, which I still regret till this day.

I was selfish, for wanting both your attention only on me, yet wanting you away from me because I was poison. you would do just fine without me, but I'd struggle to the ends of earth without you. I want you to be happy, but it didn't seem like you would be when I'm around.

if you were to be with me, I would be nothing but a burden, someone who couldn't make you smile. I live to see that bright smile of yours, for sure I don't have the right to take it away. but at that time, I didn't know you reciprocated my feelings, and I admit that I was dense to notice it. it's not every day that I receive affection and love, I wasn't raised in an environment like that.

receiving affection, made life so much better. receiving affection from you, made my life the best it could ever be. and I feel really grateful that I had someone like you in my life, someone who didn't mind my scars, my pain, just embracing me for who I am, what I am, and what I would be no matter what. I'd give anything to have you back. it didn't matter what it would take, because I have nothing further more to lose. wishing that I could turn back time every midnight, I know we are past that point of our lives, our time.

I know I would love to just do laundry, take a walk in the park with you. hold hands as we stroll in the night, share kisses under the lamp post, cuddle in bed on a sunday morning. it may have not been this life, but in another life, I promise, we will. there will always be a day where we'd be in each other's arms, whispering I love you's. a day where I open my eyes from my slumber and I have all the time to admire those features of yours, falling in love again and again with you.

tell me you're waiting, tell me you still like me, still love me. when I find you again, look at me with that same gummy smile you gave me when we first met. and say,

'I've waited for you, my love.'

because when I see you again, there will be nothing between us, just you and I. under that cherry blossom tree, where I first fell for you.

I love you, minji, more than you think.

[ramcharantitties]

Other woman- part 4

It was the mid of December now. The fog settling left everyone cold, hoping for a slight ray of sunshine. It was a Sunday, which meant Ram would come home sooner than usual. Your burn has healed now, a thick outer skin left. You picked on it, as you bathed in the weak sunlight. At least the wind wasn't blowing soon. The aunties asked about Ram, and you replied to the bare minimum- he was home now, after being gone for months. It was just a fraction of the time for others but it changed the outlook of your life now.

You could see Ram coming home, as he walked the street down your house. He spotted you from some houses away, his pace increasing. You looked away. "Y/n" Ram called out, and you looked at him as if you weren't noticing him coming up. "You're back" you mumbled, earning a smile from him. "The sky is clear and sunny, do you want to go out?" He asked, keeping his belongings nearby. You didn't want to, it was a surprise you were even here sitting by the door. "I am not in the mood" you got up, when Ram caught your wrist. "You loved going out, what happened?" Ram knew what happened. Maybe he shouldn't have asked that. There was an awkward silence. He let go of your wrist, pulling his hands close to him. "Ram" he wasn't expecting you to call out his name. You didn't know what to say either. He stared at you, on the steps above him. The sun fell beautifully on your face, your brown eyes with glistening stars and highlighted bones. "Let me change quickly" Ram smiled, following you in.

You stepped in the market about 15 minutes later. Ram was close to you, but still away. "You know" you muttered, pulling Ram closer as a bullock cart passed by. Ram stared at you fondly, but soon broke away from the grip. "Hm?" He hummed in question, snapping you back. You both walked again in the bustling market. "There are seven stages in love" you said, your fingers tracing the shiny bangles. "Like?" Ram asked. Shopkeepers were attentive at the sight of a police officer in uniform, but knew that he was off duty. "Dilkashi, oons, mohabbat, akeedat, ibaadat, junoon, fir maut" you said, reminiscing the feelings when you read about this. "Oons?" Ram asked his eyes catching yours. "Infatuation" you muttered, only to realise what you said. Ram nodded unknowingly, or ignorantly- you didn't know. "Well I am obsessed with you. What would you call that?" He said, and sat down by a shop. They were selling hot milk with kesar and badam. You followed him, "Junoon" you said, lowly. You didn't understand why Ram would say that. If he was so obsessed, why was he taken away by someone else? His cheeks were pink. You shook your head.

There was a peaceful silence as you both waited for the shop keeper to get you your earthen cups. "Ram?" He adored how chatty you were today, maybe bringing you out was a good idea. "what was her name?" Ram's head snapped at you at lightning speed. "Who's?" He tried to play off. "You know who's" you said, looking away. You felt uneasy, but you were curious too. "I don't remember" he said, noticing the two steaming cups in a young boy's hands. He quickly took them, handing you yours. You nodded, not pushing it further. "Was she better than me?" Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes unexpectedly. It was just a small question. Ram knew something was wrong, but it wasn't his place to ask that right now. He knew you deserved your part of answers.

"No. She was immature and didn't realise things. Irresponsible, and not at all loyal" he chuckled "who am I to talk about loyalty. But I mistook my curiosity for attraction. She could have been a friend but my ideals weren't as solid this time. I wrongly estimated my feelings, hurting everyone" Ram's eyes were downcast. You could see the hurt on his face, regretting decisions he shouldn't have made at all. He sighed, taking a sip from his cup. You didn't ask anything else.

There was a guilt bubbling in Ram's chest and it had no escape. He hurt his wife because he got a little attention from another woman. To think about this made him uneasy. What must you have endured in these months? Ram and you walked back to your home when the wind picked up. Against his various prominent requests, you didn't let him buy you anything, and that upset Ram.

You stepped in, Ram following you behind. "Ram" you called out smiling. He was near the lantern by the door, taking off his shoes. He looked like a deer caught in the headlight, his eyes wide, shoulders hunched. "Thank you for today" Ram's mouth agape, then formed a smile. "Anytime" he choked on his words, trying to stand back still. You giggled at his clumsiness, going in the kitchen.

Ram's heart fluttered. It has almost been five months since he has heard you laugh. He felt a warm pool of gold form in his stomach, giddiness taking over. You giggled.

__________________

Tagging: @chaanv @ramayantika @nerdreader @vijayasena @yehsahihai

[venusflytrpp]

Dear Anonymous - Carla Roson (Pt 2)

Warnings : loss of a parent, spicy but not spicy towards the end

(Reader is a female has and has two dads: Father(Demitru) and Dad(Michael))

Later that week your dad returned home from tour gathering you and all the staff downstairs to declare that your father’s funeral was next week Wednesday. So with today being Sunday, your dad hadn’t even given you a week's notice let alone pull you aside and tell you separately. 

You had all the respect in the world for the staff that had practically raised you but you are his daughter. Doesn't that mean something? Weren’t you meant to be a part of the planning, helping to commemorate the life of your father.

You’d already escaped to Carla’s house three times that week after hearing of your dad’s impending arrival and once on the day of his arrival not quite ready to see him. So you didn't want to turn up at her house again, afraid you were becoming a burden. But this was unbelievable almost as if the minute your father wasn't around your dad forgot you existed. 

Just as you're getting ready to leave the room your dad calls out your name beckoning you to follow him into the home office.

“Y/n, I just wanted to let you know that during the procession you’ll be walking behind me with your aunts and uncles.”

“Why aren't I walking next to you ?” you ask incredulously  

“Well, I already have to hold your fathers portrait and that should be front and centre. Don’t you think so ?” You couldn’t argue with him there but it was what he said next that confirmed your prior assumptions.

“Wouldn't want everyone to be distracted comparing the two of you” If your dad had stopped at his previous statement then you would have been fine but adding the second part just confirmed that your Dad hated the resemblance you had to your father. 

“Are you serious right now ?” 

“What, I’m not wrong it got brought up every time you two went anywhere together”

“Yeah, maybe because i’m his fucking daughter” You practically shouted, frustrated at his blatant insensitivity. 

“Y/n M/n Caregula, You will not raise your voice at me as you’re my daughter as well” He shouts back, clearly offended by your choice of words.

“Well, you don’t act like it. You haven't acted like it at all since he died'' You retaliate, finally getting the chance to confront your dad on his recent behaviour. 

He goes quiet for a moment, face dropping as soon as the words leave your lips. 

“Y/n I don’t owe you any explanations, you know this is a hard time for me.” 

Hot tears start streaming down your face as you whisper “It’s just as hard for me, I just want you to talk to me like when I was little. When I fell in the playground at lunch and after school you sat me down and talked about how pain works, how it may hurt currently but it gets better. When our dog, Diesel, died and you both talked to me about grief, how he’d gone to a better place where he’ll never feel pain or suffering ever again.”

“I’m just asking for you to be my dad again, why can’t you see that ?” Your voice breaks on the last few words, turning around to leave study you sob “I just want my Parents back” 

—-

The day of the funeral arrives and you haven't spoken to anyone since that Sunday in the office with your dad. Carla and Rebeka had tried reaching out to you after they heard about the funeral date but no answer came from you. 

A staff member comes into your room to lay your suit on the table, as you stand up to take a look at it you notice that it’s one of your fathers tailored to your dimensions. Goosebumps rise along your skin as you pick up the suit holding it up  to your body in the mirror. 

You barely last a few seconds before you crumble to the floor clutching the suit in your hands. 

A knock at the door comes unnoticed to you as the door opens and Carla walks in shutting the door behind her. Greeted by the sight of you huddled up in a ball, a suit clutched to your chest. Heavy sobs leaving your mouth, a sign of an oncoming panic attack. 

She moves in front of you blocking the mirror. Clutching your shoulders to lift you into a seated position.

“Y/n” she speaks, your eyes snapping to hers “Y/n I need you too breath” 

You almost feel like rolling your eyes at her as if it was that easy. But sensing the eye roll, she glares at you bringing you back to reality. Holding her stare, you begin to follow her breaths slowing down the pace of your chest. 

After a while all that escapes your mouth is “It's his suit” 

Carla’s mouth slightly opens to acknowledge this but it shuts just as fast as she rises to her feet pulling you up with her. 

“Let’s get it on you then, we’re getting through this bit by bit.”

—

“You can turn around now” you rasp out, your throat raw from the minimal amount of talking you’d been doing. 

Carla feels bad for admiring the way the suit fits on you, having to draw her eyes away from the way the sleeves hug your arms. A slight smirk arises from you about to comment on her wandering eyes but just as you were about to, your eyes catch the mirror. 

You take a breath about to speak but once again no words are found. 

Once again sensing your panic, Carla moves to stand fully in front of the mirror. Blocking it with her body, she tips your head down to make eye contact with you. 

“You look great, you don't need the mirror to tell you that. Now we are going to walk out of here, I'll walk you to the funeral car and I'll meet you at the church”  She slowly tells you, making sure that you pay attention to her words.

You give her a weak nod still unable to speak.

She takes your hand like she did in the school bathroom and leads you out of your room, down the stairs and out the front door to the awaiting car. You can see your dad already waiting inside of the car jogging his foot, clearly impatient that you made him wait. 

The chauffeur opens the door and Carla goes to let go of your hand allowing you to get in but you desperately grab at her arm.

“Can you come with me?“ Your face, her eyes begging her. 

She goes to answer you but a voice comes from the car

“Y/n get in now, we’re going to be late” Your dad interrupts 

“Carla please…” You ask again, ignoring him

“Y/n, NOW! Leave the girl we have to go” He raises his voice causing Carla to move her arm from your grip and step back allowing you more room to get in the car. 

That seems to have answered your question as your eyes slightly begin to water and you get in the car. 

Just before the door shuts Carla shouts.

“I’ll see you at the church Y/n/n”

—

Carla stays true to her word as during the procession you are able to spot her on the sidelines making eye contact several times. Your Dad in front and father’s siblings on your sides slightly shield you from sight but you can still make her out.

The funeral is extravagant and dragged out as per your dad's request. With a few words from him, your fathers family members and friends. You’ve become so numb that you don’t even react to the fact that your dad never asked you to speak, just add it to the list of things he’s done. The church part of the service ends with your Dad redirecting everyone back to the house for a continuation of the service. He ushers you back to the car alongside him before you have any time to look around for Carla or even Rebeka at this point. 

Enduring the evening of sorrowful looks and condolences it gets to a point when your Dad announces a song that he wrote dedicated to his husband.

Only the second he starts the first chord you recognise the song. 

He was playing your song. 

During music class with your tone deaf teacher, Mr Riba, he urged you to convey your feelings in a song. Though it was honestly the last thing you wanted to do, opting to curl up in a ball and cry. A few days later you’d done it anyway and you gave it to him as an audio file, causing him to rave and praise your talent comparing you to your dad. 

You don’t have any idea as to how Michael got his hands on it but you can't imagine it took much effort as he glances at you with a soft smile on his face as if he’s comforting you. Of course to anyone else it would look this way but the knife in your back just twists.

He nears the end of the song and as if this day could get any worse for you, you overhear one of your aunts whisper to someone you’ve never met before.

“You know, Dimetru was on that plane to make it back for Y/n’s school concert. Imagine if he'd never gotten on that plane.” 

“It's a shame she didn’t do anything to commemorate him” They whisper back.

The pin finally drops for you. 

Michael is done with ‘his’ commemorative song and he reaches out for your hand as you can tell he's bringing the service to an end but you don't move. Your eyes fixed on the door and the heavy rain, you can only think one thing. 

Run. 

So you do.

Ignoring Michael's calls from behind you reach the door slamming it open startling everyone in the room. You're pretty sure the glass on the door broke with the force but you can't bring yourself to care.  

The heavy rain pours drenching the suit and plastering your hair to your forehead as you keep moving, each rapid footstep causing discomfort to ripple through your body. Your destination in mind just causes you to push harder, chest screaming out in anguish causing you to reach a hand out to clutch at it.

By the time you've made it to the school and up the many stairs that you struggled your way up, you collapse on the roof. Your body giving up under the amount of strain that you put it under, willing yourself to move just a bit further you move towards the edge, legs hanging over, upper body laid down. As if your final act, your hand moves up to grasp at the tie, loosening it, finally attempting to get some substantial air in your lungs.

—

You’ve been laid there for what seems like hours but it's only been a few minutes when the roof door opens. Your head doesn’t turn knowing it wouldn't be long before someone came to find you. Your eyebrows only raise in suspicion at Carla’s face hanging over yours, although upside down. The umbrella perched over her head momentarily shields you from the rain. 

“You made quite a scene back there” She discloses, moving to sit by you. Further away from the edge. “Made it easier for me to slip away though” Carla adds with a grin.

You don’t move in the slightest, the numbing feeling from earlier reintroducing itself. Despite her efforts to cheer you up. 

“That was your song back there wasn’t it?” Still nothing from you “It was, I don’t know why i bothered asking, surprised he took it though surely as the world renowned musician he is he could have written something himself?”

Nothing yet again 

“This silence thing you're doing is kinda getting old, you know I wouldn't do this for anyone right? I’m pretty sure my dads figured out I'm not there by now since I took the car.”

“Why are you here ?” The question leaves your lips almost offending her. Almost.

“In all honesty…no lo se” She replies “I’ve been here the last few days doesn’t seem right to stop now.” 

This causes you to sit up turning your face to look at her, makeup untouched and dress undrenched. You on the other hand look a mess, finally getting a proper look at you she sees your cheeks covered in a light sheen, raindrops lingering on your eyelashes, eyes sunken in clearly showing how tired you were.

“You look like shit” She blurts out. You let out a quiet snort at this slowly morphing into a full blown laugh as your head nods in agreement. 

“I’m sure I do!” You exclaim trying to calm down, but it just gets harder as she joins in laughing just as hard. 

“I’m sorry” she says as your laughter calms down.

“Me too” Is all you say back. Confusing Carla as it doesn't seem like you have anything to apologise for.

“I'm sorry that my face is so similar to my dead fathers that Michael can't even bare to look at it” Your laughter slightly resumes but Carla ceases completely.

“I’m sorry that my father felt the need to get on a plane to see his fucking daughter. I’m sorry that I didn’t take a bigger role in a funeral that i didn’t know was going to happen until four fucking days ago” Your laughter becomes hysterical as you start swaying on the edge. Starting to scare Carla by how much closer you're getting to fall off.

“Y/n…” she speaks softly 

“You, know I always thought I had the best parents growing up turns out ones dead and the other one was just bearing with my presence for the dead one” 

“Y/n.” She speaks firmer than before trying to call you toward her. 

“Never thought this is how I'd find out, the guy who dedicated his songs to his family, taught me to play my instruments, helped me back to sleep after a bad dream. It was all for show wasn’t it? I’m supposed to be focused on the fact that DIMETRU IS FUCKING DEAD” you scream the last part trying to block Michael from your mind.

That last shout makes you lose balance causing you to fall forward when the sound of something hitting the floor and a sharp tug at the back of your blazer jolts you into action. Getting a handle on the edge you propel yourself backwards further onto the roof. By doing this you accidentally take Carla down with you causing her to slip but you catch her before her head hits the ground. 

“You idiot!” She gasps out moving to sit fully in your lap, ear pressed against your hard breathing chest. Hands gripping at your back seemingly wanting you as close as possible. 

“I…I’m sorry” You really mean this one. Taken aback by the sudden influx of affection she’s showing you, speaking into her hair “I’m sorry I scared you.”

“Whatever maldito idiota” Her voice comes out muffled against your chest “Never again” 

“Never again” You repeat. You press a light kiss to her forehead, causing her head to raise out of your chest, eyes staring directly into yours. “Sorry… it just felt like the right time.” 

“Stop apologising” she replies, eyes still holding eye contact.

Her nose brushes over yours, leaning in further she slowly closes the distance, testing the waters.

“This may not be the best moment but…Carla can I kiss you ?” You ask feeling the need to ask 

She rolls her eyes breaking eye contact but moving in again whispering against your lips 

“Si”

Your lips meet hers with a deep desperation. Lips crashing together hungry and insistent to keep going. Her hands move your hands from her upper back to her lower back, moving her hands back to grip at your neck pulling you closer, if that was even possible. 

Your hands start to grip harder, moving to her hips massaging slightly. Desperate for the world to fade and leave just the both of you in this new found passion. Breathes deep and ragged, your lips and tongues meet over and over again, hearts hammering against your chests seemingly in sync. 

She slowly pulls away causing you to whimper slightly and a smirk graces her lips. She knew you wanted more and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want more too. But she has to remind herself that although this confirmed you returned the feelings she did, you weren't currently in the right state of mind. 

Not wanting to dampen your mood all she says is. 

“This stays between us Y/n” You nod quickly wanting to feel her lips again but she moves back at your advance causing you to groan. “I need to hear you say it Y/n” 

“This stays between us” You reply, voice raspy and spent from the effect of a long day.

Too bad the paparazzi that had caught wind of your breakdown had other plans.

AN: part two! I think it’s alright but open to ideas for this series I think maybe two more parts then I can write for others

Also elite season 7! I kinda think it should have ended earlier at most when Samuel died but 🤷‍♂️.

[whiskeysmulti]

Market Day (KHR Flufftober)

Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn Ship: Kyoko x Haru (9586) Word Count: 1,020 Prompt: Market Day Event Host: @flufftober

Dating in the underground was hard to begin with, especially for a civilian woman who had dreamed of being a Mafia bride but found herself not cut out for it. Kyoko was much safer as a civilian and in spite of Tsuna's feelings for her, she had always had her eyes on her very best friend, Haru. The two girls had been through a lot as the support system for the boys in the future and they still weren't getting the full story from them. Tsuna had promised them that he would one day explain everything when the time was right. Kyoko had a beautiful day planned for herself and she refused to let anything spoil it. She and her girlfriend vowed to take the children out for a bit and have the best day together as possible.

A market date would be perfect for finding produce for dinner and Kyoko was already making a list of the vegetables she hoped to buy and maybe treat Haru to some wagashi and cake. Raindrop cake, castella, mochi, yatsuhashi a type of sweet cinnamon cracker, and amezaiku, animal shaped candies were all delights on Kyoko's list to get Haru to try. But she knew one she had to make sure to find for her beloved girlfriend. It was the Autumn season now which meant chestnuts were in abundance, which also meant there just had to be a cake shop somewhere for her to find a fresh made Mont Blanc for Haru. It wasn't the third Sunday of the month yet, so it wouldn't be a gift of multiple cakes for her appreciation day, but Kyoko wanted to spoil her girlfriend with at least one treat today.

"Haru-chan, are you ready to go?" She called to the other female, waiting for her to come along and adjusted her own skirt, making sure to look her best for her. Kyoko was someone who always treasured her appearance and had a lot of respect for herself and had even earned a reputation as the school idol, even if she was oblivious to her own charms and not interested in any of the boys in their school when her heart was set on her best friend all along.

"Hahi? One second, Haru has to get her purse!" She almost forgot it and would be devastated if Kyoko had been left to cover the date. "Are we bringing Lambo-chan and I-pin-chan too?"

Bright eyed and brimming with delight, Kyoko smiled. "We'll pick them up on the way. They deserve a fun day out too and maybe some treats if they're not too much." She remembered to check her wallet again, wagashi were expensive depending on the type and where they got them from as they were hand crafted and not mass produced like many candies and treats. Maybe she'd be better off taking Haru to a cake shop, while Kyoko got a decent allowance, she wasn't positive she'd be able to cover everyone knowing her own sweet tooth was pretty big to begin with. She wanted to spoil her girlfriend, but needed to get supplies for dinner first, cake could wait.

"Kyoko-chan! We have to get ingredients for dinner tonight. What do you think we should do for the boys?" Haru asked, planning a step-ahead. "Do you think they'll want curry again? We have plenty of rice to cook at the base, but Haru thinks we should get something else. I don't want to see them resorting to cup noodles for a week in a row again."

Kyoko smiled. "If we get sushi grade rice, Yamamoto-kun might be able to give us some pointers. But the fresh fish could be the most expensive ingredient." Trying to cook on a budget for a whole family of over ten would be expensive for sure and they each had different tastes. Tsuna and Hibari often liked savory foods like hamburger steak, while Yamamoto liked sushi with a cold glass of milk, Gokudera was hardly at the table long enough to find out what his favorite was as he often pushed himself through training longer hours resulting in him missing dinner completely and Haru having to chase him down later with a plate full. The girls were always relieved though when the plate still came back empty later, he at least took a break long enough to eat. Onii-san was never really picky, just had a healthy appetite so he would be easy to please. Lambo was hard to feed sometimes as all he wanted was candy and they had to remind him to eat first then he could have sweets. Mukuro wasn't usually around for dinner, but Chrome-chan, though shy was always polite and appreciative of what was given to her which made her one of the easiest to feed. Though they knew her favorite was mizu-ame, water candy and chocolate, they couldn't just let her have it all the time and ignore the proper nutrition she needed.

And that's when they got an idea. The girls had wandered far enough that they found the vegetable vendors and looked for what was in season. Pumpkin, sweet potatoes, mushrooms various vegetables were fresh and ripe now. The girls were so in sync they didn't have to say much. Just a glance at each other and a smile and nod, they were both thinking the same thing as they began picking out the fresh vegetables. "Hot pot!" They both cheered. It would be hot, flavorful and filling, and a little more nutritious for the boys than just another sodium filled instant cup noodles.

Some dates didn't have to be fancy dinners and expensive movie tickets, sometimes it was as simple as taking the love of your life to a market to pick out dinner. A nice home cooked meal and quality time spent with her girlfriend was really all Kyoko wanted to begin with. She might not have had the money to spoil Haru as she wanted, but sometimes all it takes is having the love of your life by your side doing every day tasks together, like going to the market.

[ranchracoon]

Ch. 6 Flowers and Books

The next morning was strangely quiet, Angie didn't yell for you per usual and your mind instantly went to the worst thing. You shot out fast enough that the bed shook, ran down the stairs panting then came to an abrupt halt when you found a note on the elevator. It stated that Angie had to run into town to get some supplies for the week since it wasn't done yesterday. She was older than time itself and you thought for sure you would have found her dead on the floor. Then again, she'll probably outlive you. You breathed out heavily as your heart rate came down then went to officially get dressed and do your morning routine.

You were excited and thankful it was Sunday, not only to recover from coming home so late last night, but also to work on the front of the manor. From the tiny glimpse in the village of the Dimitrecu manor, you saw that they had gorgeous gardens and vineyards, and you wanted the manor to be a sliver of that. As if someone or something read your mind, when you got to the top of the stairs, there was a book laying off to the side of your door. When you ran out you must have kicked it away or ran over it without noticing. You knelt down to pick it up and looked over the cover.

"Mountain flowers and how to care for them." You read aloud.

Maybe Angie left it before she left, even though she's never given you any kind of present before. You shrugged, took it inside your room and placed it on the desk near the door. The closet doors groaned when you opened them to expose your limited inventory of clothes that had fit into your bags. Now you regret thinking you were going somewhere nice because you could have fit more stuff into the briefcase rather than an unused journal, and a few sentimental items.

Maybe you could convince Angie to get you some supplies for clothing or some lei to buy some but that was an argument for another day. You pulled out some overalls and a shirt you didn't care much for. They were starting to look loose on you from the amount of work you were doing.

"I need some new clothes." You grumbled to yourself.

The outside was shrouded in fog from the waterfall and cool fall air rolling in, a shiver ran up your spine and you rubbed your arms for warmth. You groaned and grunted loudly as you ripped the old, dead vines from the wooden structures and put them all in a pile, unsure what to do with it afterwards. The wood looked old and worn from the years of exposure to water and sunlight, however the structure seemed intact and held its own.

"What are you doing?"

You stood up quickly from being startled as you stared at Angie holding a wicker basket with a blanket over it, in her arm. The sun was nearing its peak and now beat down on you, you hadn't realized how thirsty and tired you were until now. Luckily and unluckily it had warmed up enough for you to feel the sweat on every crevice when a breeze hit you. You had been going for hours non-stop and Angie broke your stride, but the yard looked far better and less....dead. Angie walked past you and eyed the torn up roots then tisked her tongue.

"Does the lord know you're doing this?" She asked as she shoved the basket into your chest.

"Um.." You thought back to the book, "I think so?" You answered with a shrug.

"Hmph."

Your legs shook as you took slow steps behind Angie toward the front door, however, the sound of crunching leaves caught your attention. Both you and Angie turned to look toward the path to see Mother Miranda walking straight for the manor, behind her was Lady Dimitrescu and Bela. You smiled brightly at the sight of Bela, she smiled half-heartedly with a small wave when they approached. On cue you leaned over to open the door for them, Mother Miranda bowed her head to you then strolled past. When Bela passed, you held the door with your foot and tapped her arm.

"Bela, what's going on?" You whispered.

Bela glanced at her mother then back at you, "to be honest, I don't know. Mother got a call then ordered for me to come with her here. I'll try to tell you when we're done."

"Bela." Called Lady Dimitrescu.

"Coming."

Bela hurried to the elevator with the other women, you closed the front doors and waited for the elevator to come back up so you could go to the kitchen. Angie waited next to you patiently without a word, she walked you to the kitchen then disappeared up the stairs toward the workshop. This was the first meal you prepared all week where you didn't feel someone lurking over your shoulder; somehow it felt naked and you hummed a song to yourself as a distraction. When dinner was ready you heard the bell for the main dining area. You took a tray and Angie appeared suddenly to take it from you. Before you could question her she motioned for you to grab the other tray and follow. You sighed and did as you were told: followed her to the dining area.

Mother Miranda, Lady Dimitrescu, and Bela were sitting in silence; none of them looked at you when you served them, including Bela who looked away when you tried to catch her eye. Angie and you stood off to the side and watched them eat. When they finished, Mother Miranda stood with her hands folded in front of her.

"Thank you for the meal and being generous hosts. I have preparations to do. Good evening."

Mother Miranda turned around and left, shortly after the door shut Lady Dimitrescu released a heavy sigh. The muscles in her jaw clenched, her lips pursed in anger, she brought her gloved hand to her forehead and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"Is there anything I can get for you Lady Dimitrescu?" You offered.

"Yes. Do you have anything for a headache?" She replied.

"Of course my Lady, I will be back with something. Y/N, clean this up." Angie said.

"I'll help you." Offered Bela quickly.

Lady Dimitrescu waved her hand and leaned over, still clutching her nose. You and Bela carried the trays back down to the kitchen, everything was put in the sink for you to wash. Bela took off her cloak and hung it on a hook on the wall then hopped on the counter to dry dishes that you handed to her.

"Can you tell me what's going on now?" You asked cautiously.

Bela groaned, "Lord Moreau died."

You stopped your washing, the plate slipped from your grasp into the sink, your eyes widened when you locked eyes with her. She kept your stare and stopped drying the dish in her hands, setting it down beside her with a soft clank.

"How?" You asked worriedly.

"According to his son and Mother Miranda, he drank too much at the festival so he thought it was a brilliant idea to go on a night fishing trip without telling anyone. When they didn't find his boat this morning, Salvatore and his crew went searching for him. They found his boat anchored in the bay with his body...floating face down next to it in the water." Bela answered.

"Oh shit...so that means.." You started.

"Salvatore will be appointed the new lord after the funeral." Bela finished.

Everything around you spun, Bela slid off the counter and grabbed your arm to keep you upright. You supported yourself on the counter, after you composed yourself you nodded to Bela to let you go. She hesitantly released you then leaned against the counter with her arms crossed.

"Bela. If Salvatore comes within a 50 mile radius of me with a marriage proposal, I'm telling him we're engaged."

"Wow. I think you're supposed to ask me on a date before marriage." Bela teased.

"I'm serious Bela."

"Look...if La...Lord Beneviento doesn't stand up for you then we will. My mother despises Salvatore more than his father. You can come work for us."

You nodded your head with a half smile, then went on to continue washing the dishes. Bela helped by drying and eased your worry with funny stories about her sisters. When all was done, you and Bela went back up to the sitting area to find Angie handing Lady Dimitrescu some water and a pill. Lady Dimitrescu's eyes caught yours for a brief moment when she sipped the water then thanked Angie before she stood.

"We should take our leave as well. Thank you Angie and Y/N for the meal."

Bela and Lady Dimitrescu left, you waved goodbye to them as they vanished from view but a dark pit in your stomach formed. The familiar feeling of eyes on you was a welcomed relief, as if the comfort of a companion suddenly returned. Angie crept up beside you as you continued to stand in the doorway looking out.

"Lord Moreau died." Angie stated matter-of-factly.

You took a moment to act as if you didn't already know, then took a deep breath.

"When's the funeral?"

"A few days. Salvatore will be appointed that evening." Angie replied quietly.

"So soon?" You questioned surprised.

"Salvatore requested it that way. Why have the villagers gathered twice?" Angie shrugged her shoulders then walked away from view.

You shut the front doors then looked around the empty manor for wherever the lord was lurking. How they could hide so well in such a minimal space continued to astound you. You sighed softly but the anxiety grew with each step you took up the stairs. In the safety of your room you kicked off your dirty clothes and piled them into a corner. The bed creaked under your weight when you crashed onto it, but sleep would not come.

All night you tossed and turned, sleep only came in increments and when the morning sun peeked through your window to wake you, you were already awake. The thoughts and anxiety plagued every wrinkle of your brain and you weren't sure if you were going to throw up or not. The clothes from yesterday were still on the floor and you still had dried dirt stuck to your skin. With a soft sigh you got up from the bed, picked up the clothes, and put them in a basket to wash later, but first you had to wash yourself. You opened the door and your foot kicked something, when you looked down there were three rolls of fabric.

You leaned out to look down the empty hallway then over the railing down into the main sitting area. The clothes you had planned on changing into were set aside as you picked up the rolls, each had a different feeling to them; one was black, thick and warm, the other was white and soft like silk, and the last was dark red cotton. Of course underneath the fabric was another book. After you put the rolls of fabric in your closet you picked up the book that had a small bag attached. It was a book about sewing, clothes specifically, with patterns and designs and the bag attached had thread with needles in a small case.

Now you were certain: only one person could have heard you talk about needing clothes and Angie was in town. A blush crept over your cheeks at the thought of what else the lord might have heard you say, definitely every time you cursed under your breath when you got frustrated at Angie or chores.

"Y/N!"

Speaking of the devil. You stored the materials in your closet, and grabbed your change of clothes then went out into the hallway to glance down at Angie. She looked up at you with her hands on her hips.

"Get washed up, we're going into town to get you an outfit for Lord Moreau's funeral."

You nodded in response then walked down the hall to the bathroom where you washed yourself in a large wooden tub with lukewarm water. Once you were washed, dressed, and brushed your teeth, you greeted Angie downstairs. Before you finished walking, a speck of yellow caught your eye in the mass of vines from yesterday. It was a small yellow flower that was blooming amongst decay and rot. It felt only fitting that you pick it and set it down on Claudia's grave when you passed it. Angie guided you to a shop of hanging clothes, the material looked familiar to the ones you received, you furrowed your brows attempting to inspect them closer.

Angie waited patiently as you looked at the black outfits, you settled on a (your choice of suit or dress), and the man behind the counter helped you size it properly when you tried it on. After Angie paid, you waited behind for only a moment to ask the man if he had any stencils you could take.

"Sorry miss, all the clothes here are made by Lord Beneviento. I simply size and occasionally fix them." He told you.

"Oh." You said disappointed, "well, thanks anyway."

When you reached Angie she started walking immediately back to the manor, narrowly avoiding people who crossed her path. She subtly reminded you of your aunt: everyone avoided her like she was covered in boils, yet she held herself up with such high esteem. Angie and your aunt would have gotten along famously, or Angie would have torn her apart like a chew toy.

"Do you think Lord Beneviento will attend the funeral?" You interrogated.

"He better. Or else it's considered a great insult not to attend the funeral of a lord or mother who passed."

The funeral just might be your ticket to finally seeing the lord face to face. You had your doubts, they clearly were a master of hiding but there was still a spark of hope they would show. However, the anxiety deep in your stomach overshadowed that hope the closer the funeral got and the hope for the lord to show turned more into a prayer. If Lord Beneviento didn't show up to the funeral, would you be safe from Salvatore once he inherits the power of being a lord?

Continue Reading

[roosterforme]

Batting Practice Part 24 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley senses you're giving him the cold shoulder. He hates waking up alone, especially on his birthday. But the rec league tryouts and a shopping trip with Everett hopefully puts him one step closer to what he really wants. 

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst and swearing

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

Bradley woke up alone in his bed on his birthday. Sure, it was a work day for the two of you, but he couldn't help but feel like you'd become a little distant with him since Sunday evening. 

He wanted to move in with you and Everett, but it wasn't that simple. It was actually complicated as hell. And now he was thinking he shouldn't have been getting Everett's hopes up about it.

Things were moving fast. Probably too fast. Bradley was all in, but he didn't know if you'd even want to take things to the next level with him. Yeah, you wanted him to move in, but he wanted you to be his family. But you'd been married before, and there was no doubt that Danny had probably ruined that entire experience for you.

And not only had Bradley never moved this fast before, he'd also never thought about buying a ring before. He'd barely had girlfriends who lasted longer than a damn month, always bailing as soon as it was clear his feelings were nowhere near as strong as his partner's.

He wasn't sure exactly why you were different, but you were. He wanted to stick around. And he didn't like waking up alone anymore. And now he convinced himself to stop for a little birthday treat, but the Starbucks took so long, he was going to be late for work.

"Damn it," he growled. You had better coffee at your house, but you hadn't invited him to stay over the past few nights. 

Tryouts for the Navy baseball league were being held this evening. Bradley packed the red and white striped Phillies socks you and Everett gave him for his birthday for good luck. When he had asked yesterday if the two of you would be able to come watch, you'd given a vague answer about work and picking Ev up from summer camp.

Bradley drank his hot coffee too fast and had to practically run to the simulation room to get there on time. "Happy birthday," Nat crooned when he walked in out of breath. "Wow, you look like shit today."

"Thanks?" He was already grouchy, and now he had to sit by his best friend who was notoriously annoying when he was in a bad mood. But luckily Admiral Simpson was calling everyone to attention. 

After hours of testing out new simulation software, only stopping for a soggy sandwich for lunch, Bradley's mood hadn't improved. He missed it when you packed his lunch for him. You had sent him a text that said Happy Birthday! which he supposed was a good thing, but he wanted you telling him you couldn't wait to see him later. If you and Ev weren't at the tryout, then what was the point? He really only sent an application because he knew Ev wanted him to play in the first place.

"You ready to pitch?" Bob asked him with a grin in the locker room after they had been dismissed for the day. 

"Yeah," Bradley grunted.

He watched Bob's smile turn to a frown. "If you want to play shortstop instead, I'm sure nobody will care. I thought you were looking forward to this."

"I am," Bradley said, trying to sound reassuring. 

Bob hummed. "I can't wait to see Molly. I've barely seen her since Sunday with her work schedule, but she promised me she would be there."

And now Bradley was scared you wouldn't show.

------------------------------

You rushed out of work, your high heels clicking across the tile floor in the lobby. Thirty minutes. You had thirty minutes to pick Everett up and drive across town to get to Bradley's baseball tryout on time. 

As you drove to get Ev, you thought maybe this was why he didn't want to move in with you; everything you did was on the other side of the city from everything he did. Or, you thought, perhaps Bradley just didn't feel comfortable in your house yet. Or maybe he just really didn't want to be around you and your son all day, every day. But it didn't really matter, because your feelings were hurt. And you were finding it hard to be happy for Molly and Bob now. 

When Everett got in the car, the first words out of his mouth were, "Are we going to the tryout? Did you bring my sign?"

You nodded and told him, "Yeah, we can go. Your sign is in the trunk." He had spent an hour last night coloring on some poster board, making a sign so he could cheer for Bradley. 

"It's starting soon!" he whined as you drove as quickly as you could. The tryouts were being held at a beautiful facility near the naval base, and you actually got there with a few minutes to spare. Everett was out of the car and opening your trunk before you even grabbed your sneakers off the passenger side floor. 

"Calm down, Ev. It didn't start yet." You and he walked past Bradley's Bronco, and once you got onto the soft grass, you changed into your other shoes while you walked.

"I'm going to get a spot on the bleachers!" Everett called, running ahead of you. But your eyes caught on Bradley and Bob, standing next to each other and leaning on the chest high chainlink fence. They were facing away from you, looking out over the infield. You had missed Bradley all week, and you knew that you needed to get over the way you felt. He was right; you could revisit that conversation later. Right now, you just wanted him to come home with you and stay all night. You had cupcakes waiting for him just in case.

You were approaching them, ready to surprise him with a huge birthday hug, when you heard Bob ask Bradley, "Think you'll move in with them?"

Bradley took his backwards cap off, and you froze as he ran his hand through his hair. "I think we're holding off for now," he said, turning his cap the other way before leaning on the fence again.

"Why?" Bob asked. "Everett seems to think you'd make a great roommate. He said he wants you to move into their extra bedroom." He chuckled, but Bradley shook his head. Your heart was pounding, and you wanted to walk away, but you just couldn't. So you stood there with your high heels in one hand, feeling like you were going to cry.

"It's not that easy," Bradley said softly. "There's a lot to consider. I know Ev's excited about the idea of it, but the reality would be that his mom's boyfriend would be living there. I just don't know if it's what I should do."

Then Bob asked the question that popped into your mind. "Do you still have reservations? About Everett?"

"Hell no, man!" Bradley said loudly. He sounded angry. "No! I love that kid more than anything. I'd love to be his dad someday. I'd adopt him tomorrow. I just want to do right by both of them. And I'm not exactly sure what that means."

You were dizzy. His words hit you right in the chest. Your mouth was hanging open and you felt out of breath. He was talking about adopting Everett like he'd already made his mind up. 

"That makes sense," Bob said. "Does she know how you feel?"

Bradley was quiet for a few seconds. "She knows I love her. I told her I'm not going anywhere. I'm ready for more commitment."

You ran up behind him, closing the short distance and squeezing him around the waist from behind. 

"Kitten!" He turned, and then you were hugging him with your face smashed to his chest, smiling so hard.

"Happy birthday," you mumbled, kissing him just above the collar of his tee shirt. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he immediately replied, rubbing his big hands along the back of your suit coat and kissing the top of your head. 

You turned your head and said, "Hi, Bob." But then a loud whistle filled the air and you looked up at Bradley. 

He kissed you hard on the lips before he said, "Time for tryouts, Kitten."

"Will you sleep over later?" you blurted out as he pulled free of your grasp. 

He smiled and kissed the top of your head again. Then he bent and picked up his gear bag. "That would make me so happy." 

As he stepped onto the field with Bob, you called out, "You can do it, Coach!"

-------------------------

Bradley was sweating. It was hot, and he was nervous. "It's just for fun," he muttered to himself as he stood on the pitcher's mound. "Just a rec league." Then he threw a slider to the catcher and let out the breath he had been holding. When he glanced to his right, he saw Everett sitting between you and Molly, and he was holding up a sign that made Bradley smile.

GO COACH BRADLEY!

He did not want to let that kid down, so he threw a decent fastball for his second pitch. He could hear you and Everett cheering for him as he threw a changeup. The catcher gave him a thumbs up before throwing the ball back, and Bradley was starting to feel good now. So threw two more sliders, and he just kept getting better. 

When the coach asked him to throw one more pitch, he went with a curveball. And then it was time for batting, and on his very first swing, he hit a home run.

He was a bit stunned, but he could hear Everett freaking out, so he ran the bases for fun while Bob and some of the other guys gave him high fives down the third baseline. 

"Damn, you played in college didn't you?" the coach asked as Bradley picked up his bat once again. 

"Yeah," he said with a laugh.

"That was an impressive hit. You've got a great arm, too."

"I actually used to play shortstop," Bradley told him, adjusting his hat and getting ready to bat again.

"Well if you want to pitch, then you made the team."

Bradley looked over to Everett and then back to the coach. "Seriously? I already made the team?"

"Definitely."

Bradley tried to reel in his smile as he hit a few more balls and then went to sit on the bench while someone else tried their hand at batting. But he just couldn't wait to get up on the bleachers and tell Everett that he made the summer league team.

Bradley waited for the tryouts to officially end, hoping Bob would make the team too. His fellow aviator was fast and always seemed to make the catches in the outfield look like a walk in the park. When Bob joined him in the dugout, they stood next to each other, awaiting the final roster from the coach. 

"First base: Hamilton. Second Base: McPhee. Shortstop: Yang. Third base: Ruiz. Catcher: Hernandez. Pitcher: Bradshaw. Relief pitcher: Matthews."

Bob elbowed Bradley in the side and smiled at him. 

"Right field: Merrick. Left field: Wiley. Centerfield: Floyd. I'll post some bench positions as well. Thanks for trying out." 

Then the coach handed each of the starting players a navy blue and white cap. Once they were dismissed, Bradley had Bob in a tight hug. 

"I didn't know you'd be this excited, Rooster," Bob said with a laugh. "You made pitcher!"

"Oh, man," Bradley said, slapping him on the back before letting go. "I missed playing. You were right. This is going to be so much fun."

"You just want to show off for your girlfriend," Bob told him, slipping the cap on his head.

"You just want to show off for your girlfriend," Bradley replied, rolling his eyes and gathering his glove and bat together. Then he slipped his cap on as well, and they climbed out of the dugout, side by side. 

"I'm so in love with her," Bob mumbled, and Bradley saw Molly standing next to you and Everett, waving to Bob like she couldn't wait to see him. Then he looked at you, and Bradley's heart started pounding. But it was Everett running toward him with the poster board that really made Bradley smile. 

"Did you make the team?" he asked, and Bradley scooped him up in a hug. 

"Well they gave us these hats," Bradley said, putting his on Everett's head. "What do you think?"

"They made the team!" Everett shouted to you and Molly. Bradley carried your son over to you and kissed your lips. 

"We knew you would," you told him as you wrapped your arms around him and Everett. "You were so good, Coach."

"It's your birthday and you made the team!" Everett said, wrapping his arms around Bradley's neck. 

This was exactly how Bradley always wanted to be. He felt comfortable, welcome, safe and loved. He kissed Everett's cheek and nodded. "It's a pretty great day."

------------------------

Everyone followed you back to your house, and you were thankful you had taken the time to get those birthday cupcakes for Bradley. He ended up tossing some hot dogs and burgers on the grill in your backyard, even though you told him you didn't mind cooking his birthday dinner.

"Go relax," Bradley told you, nodding toward your deck where Molly and Bob were blowing bubbles with Everett. "I'll take care of it." He kissed you and sipped his beer before flipping the burgers. 

You patted his butt in his snug baseball pants and whispered, "And later, I'll take care of you." His smirk as you walked away had you giggling. 

When you ate dinner on the deck as the evening sky darkened, you watched Everett where he sat on Bradley's lap eating a burger. "Are you going to get to throw all kinds of pitches? Are you going to start every game?"

Bradley held a napkin so Everett's ketchup wouldn't drip and answered every single question. He never seemed annoyed. He never gave you the impression that your son was irritating him. They seemed like they were cut from the same cloth, and honestly it made your heart skip wildly every single time.

"Yep, I get to work with the catcher about which pitches I should throw," Bradley told him. "And I get to start the games."

Then Bradley turned and smiled at you when Everett started interrogating Bob across the table. 

"I love you." The words came so easily now, you said them without thinking about it much. You'd missed him over the past few days, thinking he just didn't want to move in with you. But he probably just needed more time. You weren't in any hurry anyway. You and Everett could wait for Bradley to want to move in. 

"Love you, too, Kitten," Bradley replied, reaching for your hand. Molly grimaced and pretended to gag on her cupcake which made both of you laugh. 

"Like you're any better?" you asked her, kicking her foot under the table. 

"Never said I was," Molly replied, running her fingers through Bob's hair as he told Everett about the rec league. Bob reached up and took her hand in his, kissing her fingers while Everett asked him another question. 

"This was nice," you said with a nod, smiling at everyone before you stood to clean up the dishes. But Molly and Bob ended up cleaning everything while Bradley took Everett to get ready for bed. 

And a little while later, Bradley was the one one grunting in your ear. "This is nice," he groaned, unclasping your bra. "I love unwrapping my birthday presents." He palmed your breasts with a smile on his face.

"I can't wait to see what you wrap up for my birthday," you moaned as he scooped you up and set you down on your bed. You were completely naked for him except for your paw print necklace. He pressed a kiss to the charm before kissing your lips. 

"You can have anything you want, Kitten," he promised. And you thought about having a million more nights like this one, with family dinners and then Bradley's body pressed to yours. 

His shirt was off, biceps warm beneath your palms. "Well you can have anything you want."

Bradley froze with his lips on your nipple. He ran his nose down the valley between your breasts before kissing your sternum and looking up at you. "I want you to know that I am not going anywhere, Kitten."

You nodded and whispered, "I know that."

"I want to be here for you and Ev," he said, kissing the undersides of your breasts. "I want... I want you to know I'm not hesitating to move in because of me. So if you and Everett really, honestly want me here all the time, I have one condition."

You took a deep breath, getting nervous as your legs rubbed the rough fabric of his baseball pants. "What's your condition?" you asked softly.

"A stronger commitment," he said, nodding once like it was nonnegotiable. 

But you weren't sure what to think. "What does that mean?" 

Bradley's lips returned to your body after he said, "It means you'll be my family someday soon. I hope." 

He reached for your hands as you processed his words. Family. You already felt like he was. "Okay."

Bradley held your hands above your head and kissed you until you were whimpering for him. Then he unzipped his baseball pants and pulled himself free as you spread your legs wider. He ran his fingers along your pussy, head tipped back as he moaned your name. Then he coated himself up with his fingers before pressing inside you. 

"I love you," he whispered, fucking you nice and slow. It was his birthday, but you were the one getting it exactly how you needed it. "Love you so much, Kitten."

You combed your fingers through his hair, thinking about how he wanted even more of a commitment. What more could he give you right now? He made you feel like you had everything. 

-------------------------

On Monday, you let Bradley pick your son up from summer camp. Everett came bounding toward him, surprised and excited that Bradley was there.

"Are we going to practice baseball stuff today?" Everett asked after he hugged Bradley.

"Nope," Bradley told him, turning his cap backwards and leading him toward the Bronco. "I've got something important that I need your help with."

Everett gasped. "Like a secret mission?"

"Exactly like that," Bradley replied, opening the back door for Everett to climb in.

He'd given this a lot of thought after spending the weekend at your house, falling even more in love with the two of you. After Saturday morning pancakes and an outing to hunt for baseball cards, Bradley treated everyone to a movie and popcorn. The fact that you and Everett wanted him to sit in the middle because you both wanted to be by him had him grinning. 

"Are we going to be spies?" Everett's eyes were huge as he buckled himself in. "They go on secret missions all the time for stuff."

"Not quite," Bradley replied with a laugh. "I need your help shopping."

Everett groaned as Bradley closed the door and climbed in the front seat. "But I don't like shopping!" he complained, and Bradley was still laughing. 

"I don't really either, kiddo. But this is shopping for something really important to me," he said, starting the engine and pulling out onto the road. "Think you can help me out? Just this once? I'll get you a chicken nugget Happy Meal when we're done."

"Yeah," Everett sighed. And a few minutes later, Bradley was scooping him out of the booster seat and taking him inside the jewelry store. 

Once they were in front of the case of diamond rings, Bradley asked, "Do you think your mom would like any of these?" Maybe it was silly to ask a seven year old for help picking out an engagement ring, but Bradley knew you'd like the ring even more if they picked it out together. If you said yes.

Bradley's palms were starting to sweat as Everett scanned everything inside the case. Things were moving fast. There was a solid chance you were going to say no. Or tell him you weren't ready. But Bradley wanted this. He needed to know what was coming next if he moved into your house. He wanted to know he could be with the two of you forever. 

Just as he felt a wave of panic wash over him, Everett pointed at one ring in particular. "That one looks like a baseball," he said, looking up at Bradley and grinning. "I think she would like a baseball ring from you."

"Yeah?" Bradley asked, bending to look at it. When the shop owner came over, he only asked to see that one ring. It was really pretty, and it seemed like something you would wear. Just a solitaire diamond with a platinum band. It was elegant and simple. Not overly frilly, but still something that made you want to stop and look at it. And once Bradley was holding it in his hand, he really thought it was perfect. 

He braced himself to hear the price while he dropped the ring into Everett's hand. Everett tried it on his index finger and laughed at how big it was. The price was manageable, and Bradley briefly considered sending a picture of it to Molly for final approval before deciding against it. 

"You know what?" he asked Everett. "I think we did a good job with this."

"We did," Everett replied with a nod. "She's gonna like it."

Bradley handed the ring across the counter along with his credit card. "I'll take it." He had no idea if it would fit you, but they could deal with that later. Because now he was in a state of shocked anticipation. He wanted to drive right to your place and beg you to marry him. He wanted to show you the ring and hope you'd say yes. 

"She'll like anything you give her. Especially if you say you want to get married!" Everett said with wide eyes. 

"I hope you're right, kiddo," Bradley said, running his hand through his hair. But now Everett's forehead was scrunched with concern. "What's wrong?"

Everett got quieter as he asked, "Does this mean you'll be my dad?"

Bradley swallowed hard and knelt down in front of him. Everett's eyes were so open and sincere, curious to know what this meant for him. "Ev," he started, unsure about how to answer. "If your mom and I are going to get married, then I'll be there all the time. I'll move into your house. We can do your homework together, and eat dinner. And I'll take you outside to play every day. Does that make sense?"

"But will you be my dad?" he asked again, and Bradley pulled him into a tight hug. Because he wanted to be. But he couldn't make a promise without talking to you. Without proposing to you first.

"I hope so, okay?" Bradley's voice was deep and raspy. "I love you."

-----------------------

Our favorite coaches made the team! Do we think Ev and Bradley have good taste in rings? Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32

PART 25

Don't forget to check out Bob and Molly in The Curveball!

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[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

Taking Breaks

----

Roman is thoroughly overworking himself, Virgil steps in and gets him to take a break.

----

| Ao3 |

Warnings: None

Pairings: Anaroceit

Word Count: 1231

Notes:

Not my usual Sunday AU Update, but I'm exhausted and don't feel like writing anything new, so have this which has been sitting in my google doc for a week or so.

They're such cute boys and I love them so very very much they deserve cuddles.

I love writing fluff :)

----

Roman blinked as his laptop lid was closed right he was in the middle of thinking. Roman's eyes followed the hand on his laptop up an arm to find Virgil perched on his desk, a tray of mugs in his other hand.

"Finally," Virgil rolled his eyes, though a smile was on his face, "I've been trying to get your attention for five minutes, I brought you cocoa."

"Oh," Roman said, slumping down in his chair a little, "Apologies I got, caught up." 

"In what? Staring at a blank screen?" Virgil asked, obviously trying to joke, but the reminder of his recent failures as Thomas' creativity kind of stung just a little. 

Virgil must have noticed him slump a little further, because his smirk softened and he sighed, placing down the mugs and reaching forward to ruffle Roman's hair. 

"Sorry Princey," Virgil said, "That was mean." 

"It's… fine," Roman mumbled, "I was just - attempting to come up with some ideas, is all I was doing." 

"Wanna take a break?" Virgil asked, tilting his head as he picked up one of the mugs. Roman carefully took the other, taking a long sip before setting it back down,taking a moment just to sigh at the thick chocolate-y goodness.  

"I shouldn't - Thomas-" 

"Sitting here staring at a screen and wallowing in self pity won't get you any more ideas than taking a break will, dumbass," Virgil sighed, "I heard Jan's not busy right now, we could go bother him?" 

"A tempting offer, dearest Scaramore but alas I must remain in the zone so that I can create something of worth, I appreciate the cocoa though," Roman said, sighing dramatically, he hoped that Virgil would pick up on the joking tone without noticing how forced it was. By the look on his face, Roman wasn't getting his wish. 

"How long have you been 'in the zone' now?" 

"Um, since breakfast I think so… like an hour maybe?" 

"More like five, you never showed up to lunch." Virgil said, shaking his head and kicking his feet, "And that document was still empty?" 

Roman looked back at his laptop, already knowing he'd lost the argument before it had barely started. He took another long sip of the hot chocolate before placing it down on the desk.

"Fine," Roman sighed quietly, "You win, I'll take a break." 

"Good," Virgil said, slipping off of the desk, "Would you like to stay in here, or should we disturb whatever plans Jan has?" 

Roman shot a disgusted look at his own room, sheets of paper screwed up and thrown all over the place, mess everywhere, the scene was horrendous. He’d need to tidy it at some point, he knew he worked better in a clean environment, but at the moment he couldn’t find the will. 

"Can we go find Janus," Roman asked, his voice a little smaller than he intended.

 Virgil grinned and nodded, jumping down from the desk and holding out a hand to help Roman up, "'Course we can, come on."

Roman took his hand and Virgil pulled him up, wrapping an arm around his waist before sinking them both out so they appeared right next to Janus' door. 

Still keeping hold of Roman - Who was fully leaning on Virgil now, finding himself exhausted now that he finally stepped back from his work - Virgil knocked on the door, which earned them a shout of "It's locked!" From inside. 

"I got a gift for you," Virgil called, pushing open the door and scooping Roman into his arms before he could react. Roman yelped in surprise as he was carried into the room and then dumped unceremoniously on top of a startled Janus, who must have been lounging comfortably on his bed before they had arrived. 

"Virgil!" Janus cried, entirely shaken, "Have you ever heard of warning someone before you drop someone on him?" 

"Roman was sad," Virgil said by way of explanation, flopping face first onto Janus' bed with them.

"Sorry,* Roman mumbled, pushing himself up so that he was no longer squashing Janus, only to find arms around his waist pulling him back down. 

"Absolutely not," Janus said, "I need compensation for being squashed in the form of apology cuddles, thank you." 

Roman huffed, letting his cheek rest on Janus' chest for a moment before he started to feel how uncomfortable this position was and at the same time realised how much he just wanted to hold and be held by both Janus and Virgil rather than awkwardly lying on top of Janus whilst Virgil lay next to them. 

"Could we um," Roman started, "Could we possibly move into a more comfortable position?" 

"Of course not, sweetheart, I'm totally comfortable here," Janus said, already moving to sit them up and shuffling back on the bed towards the fluffy mountain of pillows near the headboard. Virgil pushed himself up from where he had been lying face down in the covers and crawled after then. 

The three of them curled up together like that, with Roman in the middle, leaning into Janus' embrace whilst Virgil curled up against his back. Janus ran a hand steadily through his hair, letting Roman lean into the rhythm of the motion whilst Virgil wrapped his arms around Roman’s waist and occasionally nuzzled Roman’s shoulder. Roman let out a sigh as he finally felt the built up tension drain from his shoulders. Virgil shifted, sitting up so he could flop more bodily on top of Roman, burying his face in his hair. He giggled involuntarily and Virgil’s arms squeezed him around the chest. 

“Virgil,” Roman giggled, “Yer gonna squash me!”

“You’re just too squashable,” Virgil mumbled into his hair.

“You’re both incredibly light, but you totally see me complaining,” Janus cut in.

“Yeah but that’s ‘cuz you love us,” Virgil mumbled and Roman almost immediately concluded that their stormy companion was already half asleep. Roman smiled, resting his face on Janus’ shoulder. He knew Janus didn’t really mind having them dogpiling on top of him, in fact they always tended to take up the same positions when they cuddled. 

Roman enjoyed being in between them both. He felt safe there, like they’d both look after him and keep him protected whilst they were together. Virgil liked lying on top of the pile, it made him feel like he was protecting them both, the idea that he had both of his partners in his grasp kept the anxiety at bay. Janus enjoyed being squashed at the bottom, perhaps it was something to do with Roman’s warmth, or the very physical reminder that they were both there. Janus had never actually told them the reason he enjoyed his position in the cuddle piles, but Roman knew he did nonetheless.

“Go to sleep, my sweet prince,” Janus murmured, brushing a gentle hand across his face, Virgil’s soft puffs of breath mussing up his hair, Roman sighed, relaxing even further, “You deserve a rest, darling.”

“Thanks, Jan,” Roman mumbled into his shoulder, letting his eyes slip closed. Janus pressed a kiss to the side of his head, cool scales brushing against his ear. Roman sighed, finally letting himself drift off to sleep. 

And maybe it was the middle of the day, but when Roman woke up much later, limbs tangled up with his boyfriends and the blankets, he found he hadn’t felt better rested in a long, long while. 

[pbandjesse]

Today was all over the place. I felt better (then I have) at times and others just as bad as I've been. It's incredibly frustrating.

But I was able to eat more today which I think helped. I didn't feel as much horrible pain, mainly I was just very tired and had a bad taste in my mouth. Like it's not amazing but it's not as scary.

I would throw up last night and it was all watermelon so when James came in the room when they heard me I was like don't freak out!!! Cause it scared me really bad at first but then I realized what was going on and I felt bad but once I cleaned up and took a shower and drank some water I felt the best I have for days.

So I was able to eat a half a pack of crackers and a bowl of cereal. Which tasted a little stale but I was just so happy to eat. And I was able to sleep a little easier.

I had some bizarre dreams. But I slept pretty well. I woke up this morning with sweetp being cute and cuddly. We both got scared by a DHL truck beeping and backing up down our entire street. And it was so loud it was like a fire alarm. And they did it twice!! So stupid. It is 830 on a Sunday morning! Crazy behavior.

James was biking and kayaking this morning but would be back around 9. And when they got back they made me a one egg omelet. Which was so little looking but was honestly perfect and didn't make me feel bad at all so I was really happy.

The egg gave me a little more energy. And we would lay around for a bit but eventually James convinced me to go out into the world.

We would go to Dunkin donuts and then Home Depot. But this would be a struggle for me.

Thankfully I wasn't as nauseous but I was just so tired. My body just ached and I was anxious about being out walking around. I sat on the couch for a minute and just felt. Outside of my body. But I pull it together and we headed out.

We would stop at Dunkin first and got donuts. Which was very good and thankfully continued to not hurt to eat. Which made me feel a lot more positive.

Walking around Home Depot was hard but wasn't terrible. We looked at paint chips. Picked a few to hang up in the house to see if we like them. And then went to the garden center.

We got dirt and rocks for the new tortoise enclosure. I still need to build a lid but I was excited to get started.

We headed home and it was very good timing because I started to fall apart. I desperately wanted to help build the garden bed but I just couldn't do it. James would work on it in the backyard and I would lay on the couch.

I would come outside to help spread the dirt and help decorate the space for Crabcake. We spread chia seeds all over and James would take cuttings from their plants to put in the dirt. I hope they take and we can have a beautiful little space.

James would put the backyard back together and I would lay back down. I requested Mac and cheese for lunch. We didn't have any but James would bike to the grocery store to get some. Because they are the best husband and I love them so much.

But eating would be incredibly tough. So I went very slow. And was able to eat some of my Mac and cheese and I am proud of myself for trying.

I thought maybe a shower would make me feel better. I washed my hair and tried to feel more normal. And it wasn't perfect but it did make me feel a little better.

I sat on the floor in our bedroom and ate crackers. James brought me a sprite and it was a risk but it was actually nice. I picked at my face which I should not do but I have little rashes on my upper lip again. Which sucks and is painful but I am trying hard to treat. I don't need another thing going wrong!!

I eventually would move to the bed to watch a show and fell asleep. I would sleep until around 5. I texted James to ask if we had veggie nuggets. Which we did.

So James would heat some up and the rest of my Mac and cheese. And I was excited about it but then I ate one nugget and had to lay down for a half hour. It just hit me wrong.

But once I had breathed through it I was able to eat the rest of my food and that was really exciting for me. I'm doing better??? I still feel exhausted but I have faith I'm going to be alright.

Me and James spent the rest of the evening hanging out in bed. They would bake cookies. And run to CVS for juice. But mainly we just hung out. I thankfully haven't felt to bad. Like it's still there, just an underlying nausea, but it's not painful. I'm just tired.

I'm going to go to camp tomorrow. James has offered to come and I might take them up on it. They haven't visited all summer so it would be nice. But I hate to take their day off away if they want to do something else. But I also love having them with me. So we will see.

I hope you all have a nice night. I hope you are taking care of yourself. Goodnight everyone.

[final-girl96]

STOLEN HEARTS CHAPTER EIGHT

May 13, 1984

"So, do I need to give you money to go dress shopping?" I looked at dad confused, "what?" I asked. "Prom. Isn't prom coming up this weekend?" He asked. I shrugged my shoulders, "I don't know. If it is I'm not going so no, you don't need to give me money for a dress." I set my bowl in the sink, washed it and set it in the dish rack. "Nobody's asked you?" He asked, concerned.

"Um…no. Dad, I don't have friends and I don't like any boys. It's not that big of a deal." He nodded his head and looked down. "Okay. It's just…it's a big night. You might look back and regret not going. Maybe Eddie will ask you." I raised my eyebrow and squinted at him. "You hate Eddie. And I don't want to go to prom. Especially with fucking Eddie."

"I don't hate him. I just strongly dislike him. I mean you guys are friends still, right? You still tutor him and what not." I shrugged and walked around the counter. "Okay, that's it! You haven't been yourself since I got home on Sunday night. What happened?" He stopped me from walking any further. "Nothing happened, dad. I need to finish getti g ready for school." He moved in front of me and looked down at me.

"What did Eddie do?" He asked in a dangerously low voice. "Did he…did he try to…" I cut him off by holding my hand up. "No! God no! It's stupid and I shouldn't even be upset about it," I said. He didn't say anything, just waited for me to continue. "He stood me up. He never showed up to pick me up for his gig at the hideout or dinner. Turns out it was because while he was out doing errands before he had to come back to pick me up he met a girl. He met a girl and forgot about me."

"Oh, sweetheart." He pulled me into a hug and kissed the top of my head. "Why don't I take you to school today. I know kids haven't been nice to you. I've gotten calls from the principal about some things teachers have heard and noticed." My eyes widened. "What! So, you have teachers spying on me?"

He shook his head, "no! When we first got here I wasn't sure if you would tell anyone or if anyone would find out who I am. I have been trying to keep a low profile for you! But just in case I asked for the principal to keep an eye out. The last thing I need is for my daughter to be bullied or taken advantage of! To be honest I regret putting you in public school. You're fucking miserable."

"Dad, it's fine, okay? It's not that bad," I said. "There's a girl there who calls you poor. Misty Everton. I know her father Phil. Real fucking douchebag. He used to try and get under my skin all the time. Her mother isn't any better. Stuck up cunt." My mouth dropped open and then I laughed. "Dad!" He shrugged and laughed along. "It's true! So, come on, let me take you to school. Who cares if everyone knows your dad is a famous rock star? This is your last year and you'll never have to see them again!"

"We'll take the new car. How about that?" Dad asked. While he was in California he decided to buy a new car. A red 1984 Ferrari 288 GTO to be exact. The man was flashy and proud to show that he made it when everyone told him he wouldn't. "Sure, dad. Let's wow everyone at Hawkins High." I rolled my eyes and got into the car. I could feel the nervousness and anxiety swirling in my gut.

And as I expected everyone stopped when he pulled up in front of the school. I took a deep breath and watched as everyone started to get closer. People were pointing and talking. I didn't even realize dad had gotten out of the car until my door opened. I got out and he smiled at me.

"You win." I snorted and rolled my eyes. "Have a good day, little viper. I'll pick you up after school." He kissed my forehead and waved to the kids looking at him in shock as he walked back around the car and left. I watched until I couldn't see him anymore before turning around and walking into the school.

I was standing at my locker when someone came up and leaned on the lockers beside mine. "Jax Hexley is your dad?" I looked over to see Billy Hargrove. "Yes," I answered simply. "I thought you looked familiar. Not very many pictures of you in magazines with him but there are a few. I knew you were the only other kid from California in this shitty ass school but damn, princess. You really want to go out with a bam, huh?" He smirked and looked me up and down. "It's not going to happen, Hargrove. You can take me off your list of girls to fuck before graduation."

The day went on with people coming up to me and trying to talk to me. It was all: "oh, my god, your dad's a rockstar?! That's so cool!" And "we should totally go shopping for prom together." Or "Hey baby, how about you let me take you out tonight." I was glad when the end of the day came. I stood at my locker, grabbing anything I needed to take home.

I gasped when a hand holding a black rose appeared in front of me. Then a body was pressed against my back and a chin laid on my shoulder. "Go to prom with me?" I spun around to see Eddie with a shy smile on his face. "What?" I asked. "Prom. You know it's an overrated high school tradition. People dress up and dance then leave and get drunk and have sex in a shitty motel or the back seat of a car at makeout point."

"You want to go to prom?" I asked, turning back around. Again he pressed his chest against my back, chin on my shoulder, and arm around my waist, and held the rose in front of me. "If it's with you, yes. I'm sorry I was a fucking dick and stood you because of some chick I'll never see again," he said. "That rose is black." He chuckled and hummed. "I thought it fit our style a little better than a red one."

"So, what do you say? Give me a second chance. Hell, we don't need to stay the whole night. We can go for an hour and slowly destroy people's nights. Expose some cheaters. Then we can get the fuck out of there before shit really hits the fan. Go grab some burgers and shakes, go to that spot I wanted to take you." I slowly took the rose from his ring clad fingers.

"You're all I can think about lately," he whispered. I felt my heart flutter and cleared my throat. "I'll think about it." I shut my locker and walked down the hall. "Well, don't take too long! It's this Saturday!" A smile slowly made its way onto my face as I walked out of the school and got on the back of the bike my dad decided to pick me up on.