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buckyalpine · 7 months

Note

I adore all of your stories and turn to them at night when my brain won’t stop running. I have kind of a weird request. How would Bucky react to his girl temporarily losing her memory? (I once lost mine for two weeks due to a bad reaction to a medicine, so this pops in my mind from time to time.) The reader doesn’t remember who he is, but still feels safest when she’s with him. I’m sure he’d be the absolute sweetest. And since he’d know what it was like, he’d probably know what’s helpful and what makes things worse. When she eventually recovers, she remembers all he did for her and falls even more in love 🥰 Maybe some spicy thank yous?

Sorry if it’s too specific or out of your comfort zone! Feel free to change anything (I did base it a bit on what happened to me, but I’m sure it’d be different for everyone). Thanks!!

YESS THIS IS SO SWEET AND SOFT AND ADORABLE

"I need back up on the east wing!" Steve's voice crackled through the coms, his breathing labored as he tossed off another hydra operative against the wall, "A-agent down!"

You were passed out on the floor, dust and rubble surrounding you after exhausting yourself, 3 stab wounds were bleeding profusely from your abdomen along with other cuts and bruises littering your skin. Your head throbbed in pain from where you'd been hit and with each passing second it became harder for you to stay awake. You'd tried your best to keep your eyes open with Steve's pleading but it was too much; the pain started to dull and the world went black.

"It's a strong medication and she might be out for a little longer but she's going to be okay. We just have to keep monitoring her" Dr. Cho's voice spoke softly just outside of the room where you still laid unconscious. After getting patched up and scanned for damages, you were dosed with anything and everything to keep you rested and to help with pain. You had visitors day in and day out to check on you but the one that never left your bedside was your sweet boyfriend.

"Baby please wake up" Bucky softly pleaded as he ran his fingers gently across your face, not wanting to disturb you but also unable to keep his hands to himself. Not when he just wanted to see you open your eyes again, hating the fact that he hadn't heard your voice in two weeks.

Two weeks.

That's how long you'd been out for.

He was patient, not wanting to rush your healing time but he missed you so much. He continued his soft ministrations, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles and peppering kisses across your cheeks. He noticed the slight flutter of your lashes, sitting up immediately when your heart monitor picked up.

"Sweetheart?" He kept his voice low, paging for a nurse to come check on you while holding your hand, his heart racing when you finally opened your eyes. "Oh baby"

You blinked at the fluorescent lights of the room, looking at the sterile environment surrounding you. Bucky stroked your hand, hoping to ease away how disoriented you were probably feeling, giving you a soft smile when you finally met his eyes.

"How are you doll?"

"Um-I'm fine?" You stared at the handsome stranger that was by your bedside, his beautiful blue eyes swirling with emotion as he continued to clutch onto your hand.

"I was so worried y/n"

"Who-I'm really sorry, who are you?"

Bucky's eyes widened with horror, quickly recomposing himself seeing your confused expression. He dropped your hand, immediately adding space between you both, offering you comforting smile before heading out of the door.

"Let me get the doctor" He didn't want to worry you, keeping a steady voice as he spoke before speeding down the corridor as soon as he was out of sight. He wasted no time informing the others about what had just happened, the team all patiently waiting outside of your room while the doctor checked on you.

"Will she be okay?" the words came tumbling out of Bucky as soon as Dr. Cho finished running a few tests, shutting the door behind her, letting you rest. He'd been pacing up and down the hall like a changed animal the entire time, only stopping when he heard Dr. Cho gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze.

"Her memory will come back eventually but until then it's important things are calm for her. Between the hits she took and the medication, she doesn't remember much from the last 2 years. You have to remember, throwing too much information at her will set her back so do your best to keep things the way she'd understand"

It wasn't going to be easy. There was no time line for when your memory would return and you had just joined the team two years ago. You didn't remember anyone, having no recollections of all the memories you'd built with them, nor remembering any of the friendships you had. As soon as you were discharged, you took the first day to rest in your room, not knowing that Nat had cleaned out all memories of Bucky so you wouldn't feel more confused.

After sleeping for most of the day, a man knocked on your door and introduced himself as Tony Stark, the very Iron Man. You couldn't recall too much but the name rang a bell; you knew he was the main person for you to go to if you needed anything. His first task was to take you around the compound, introducing you to various members of the team.

You met Nat and Clint training together in the gym. Sam had been tinkering with something called Red Wing. Steve had welcomed you with a warm hug and Bruce had been working away in the lab. Tony continued his tour, walking you through the kitchen when your eyes landed on a familiar face from before.

"And whose that" You felt your face heat up as you pointed over to the handsome man that has been by your bed earlier in the day, still feeling his soft touch on your skin.

"That's Bucky, or Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes" Tony stated, smiling at the way your eyes lingered on the soldier for longer than necessary. "Here, let's go say hi"

Tony sauntered over to where Bucky was nursing a cup of coffee, the bags under his eyes growing from a lack of sleep but that didn't stop him from throwing you a bashful smile when Tony introduced brought you to him.

"Barnes, this is y/n, she's joining our team soon"

"Nice to meet you doll" Bucky shook your hand with the utmost care, the pet name he had just for you rolling off his tongue with ease. "Let me know if you need anything"

You felt butterflies at the smirk the soldier threw your way before making his way over to the gym, the blue eyes twinkling with something you couldn't quite place. The rest of the day went by smoothly and later that night you accepted the teams invitation to join them for dinner and then later a movie night.

You were aware that you'd sustained an injury which was affecting your memory; what you still didn't know was how much of your memory was missing. You felt nervous as you made you way to the dining table, everyone sitting in their designated spot, chatting away while passing dishes to each other.

Before you could quietly retreat to your room, you locked eyes with those familiar baby blues, a smile growing on his face. Bucky got up from his seat, noting how anxious you looked, understanding seeing everyone together would be overwhelming when you didn't remember any of them. He knew exactly how that felt and there was no way he was going to let you ever feel even an ounce of that.

"I hope you're hungry, doll" Bucky spoke to you softly, not bringing attention to where you'd backed up against the wall in hopes of not being noticed.

"A little" You lied, the rumble of your stomach giving away that you were starving.

"Would-would you like to join me out in the garden? I'll bring some food out for you" Bucky offered, hoping you'd feel less overwhelmed with a bit of space.

"Yes please, thank you Bucky" You shyly smiled as he stepped away to get you some food, taking both of your plates outside to eat under the soft glow of the moon. You appreciated that he didn't bombard you with questions; the both of you eating in comfortable silence until it was time for the movie. All the anxiety you'd anticipated feeling disappeared into thin air when Bucky made some space for you to sit beside him. He picked a section of the room where you'd be able to sneak off undetected if you wanted to leave early.

There was something about the Sergeant that made you feel safe. You felt loved by everyone but with Bucky it was just different. You felt safe around him. You trusted him. You didn't know him all that well and yet whenever he was around, you knew you didn't have to worry.

There were days where your anxiety would be at an all time high, worried about why you were getting vivid flashes of random memories and terrible headaches that made you nauseous. In those moments where you felt so lost, so out of control over your own thoughts, Bucky would ground you, just being around him making you feel better.

You couldn't understand why you felt so safe around a man you barely knew but you found yourself seeking him out more and more, desperate for more of his kind words, gentle touches and soothing voice.

He really was the sweetest.

It killed Bucky. His heart was hurting. He was a stranger to you and it shattered him, wishing he could kiss and cuddle you every night and tell you he was so glad you were okay, that a part of him nearly died when you didn't wake up. Everyday he had to bid you good night with nothing more than a smile, so badly wanting to hold you tight in his arms instead.

None of that mattered right now.

Not when you needed him the most even if you didn't know it.

He was going to do whatever it took to get you better, taking care of you every step of the way in the best way you needed until you remembered. He could tell by the way you giggled, by the way you smiled, that even if you didn't remember everything, there was always something between you both.

He'd never give up on you no matter how long it took.

"Shit" You hissed, dropping the mug of tea you were sipping on, the cup shattering on the floor with a crash. Searing pain felt like it was splitting your head into to, your hands clutching onto your throbbing temples, squeezing your eyes shut, the headaches you'd been getting happening more frequently.

You'd cut back on the medication you were taking, which had actually helped with regaining some of your memory but it also meant you'd go through bouts of pain without anything to help it. Flashes of a mission gone wrong streamed through you memory between fiery throbbing, even the soft day light overwhelming your sense.

"B-Bucky!!" You cried out, your knees buckling as you slumped onto the floor, blinking back tears as another wave of pain passed. You didn't need anything else but you needed your Bucky, the only person you felt felt safe with, the person you'd loved for all these years, the man who was by your bedside for days on end after you didn't wake up-

"Doll? Fuck, y/n, whats wrong sweets" Bucky found you curled up in a ball on the cool kitchen tile, sweeping you up into his arms and holding your head against his chest, his arms covering your face from the light, while his cool metal arm was pressed firmly against your forehead to ease the pain. "M'here y/n, you're okay, you're okay"

He rocked you, not moving from the floor while whispering in your ear, hoping the pain would pass quickly.

"Jamie, it hurts" You whimpered, clutching onto his Henley, the scent of his body wash calming you down. Bucky froze, not saying a word, his heart hammering against his chest at what you'd just called him.

Could that mean-

"Do-do you want to go lie down sweets?" Bucky spoke carefully, feeling you nod, still staying tucked against him. He carried you up to your room, only to have you shake your head as best as you could, wanting to go to his room instead.

"Just want to sleep for a bit baby, please?" you pleaded with him, hardly realizing the tears that were now streaming down his face as he made his way down to his room instead. He was your Jamie, your baby, you were finally coming back to him. Bucky pulled back the covers, setting you down carefully before climbing in with you when you tugged his wrist. Your eyes were still closed, the throbbing in your head slowly dissipating though not gone entirely as you snuggled against his chest, letting out a content sigh.

"Bucky?"

"Yes doll"

"I remember"

Bucky stirred awake to the sound of a whimper, his brows knitting together into a frown when he felt your body tremble in his hold.

"What is it baby?" Bucky's deep sleep laced voice carried through the darkness as he pulled you closer, soothing your sniffles. "Why are you crying darling, c'mere"

"Y-you didn't give up on me" Your emotions got the best of you, remembering everything from the moment everything went dark, to the panicked voices around you to the way Bucky had stayed by your side through it all, nursing you back to health while his own heart was hurting.

"Never doll, I'd never give up on you" Bucky said sincerely, kissing your forehead while stroking your hair, "How could I when I love you to much"

"But I-I didn't remember you-you still love me?" you whispered, feeling guilty that it had taken you so long to regain you memories and feeling more guilty that you couldn't remember Bucky for so long.

"Y/n, angel, I'd love you no matter what, do you have any idea how badly I wanted to tell you that for these past few weeks? That's all I wanted to do baby, just hold you and tell you how much I adore you-

You couldn't put into words how much love you had for him in that moment, cutting him off with your lips pressed onto his. The kiss grew more needy, hands desperately grabbing each other; you needed Bucky to know just how much you loved him too, feel every bit of what you couldn't say with words.

"Baby, let me- Bucky was ready to take care of you but that wasn't what the night was about. Not after all he'd done for you.

"No" You shook your head, gently pushing Bucky to lay on his back, straddling yourself on top of him, "Let me take care of you for taking care of me" you murmured against his lips before pressing them against his heated skin, tracing your tongue along the column of his neck. "Please Jamie, let me show you"

"D-doll-I-I can-

"Just let me Sergeant, please" You shimmed out of your oversized t-shirt before slipping your thumbs into the waistband of his briefs, puling them down, leaving him perfectly bare under you. Bucky wasn't typically a shy person but the way you gazed at him with such love made him blush, his thighs tensing when you settling yourself between them.

"Sweetheart you don't have to-oh-f-fuckkk" His words melted into a deep moan, feeling your lips wrap around the swollen head of his cock, your tongue probing his slit, lapping up every bit of precum that dripped out.

You worshipped his cock with your mouth and tongue, making him feel pleasure like never before, your hand softly rubbing and rolling his balls. You pulled off with a pop just to dip your head lower, nursing on his heavy sack, the slutty, needy moans he was letting out growing louder.

"B-Baby, g'nna cum if you don't stop" His thighs spread apart further for you, back nearly arching off the bed as you licked a thick stripe from his balls to the tip of his cock, crawling back up his body to line your soaking cunt up with his length.

"Please y/n" Bucky blinked at you with glassy, lustful eyes, rutting his hips up to feel more of you, his hands flying to your thighs, needing to touch you.

"Anything for you baby" you cooed, gasping at the feeling of his tip catching against your hole, throwing your head back as you began to sink down on his cock, the both of you moaning together at the feeling of him stretching you open.

You began to grind your hips down on him, your clit rubbing against the curly hair at the base of his cock before slowly picking you pace up, your hands resting on his chest for leverage.

"Feel's so good princess" Bucky's eyes rolled back as you started to bounce up and down, practically squealing each time you slammed yourself back down, obscene squelching noises filling the room.

"You deserve it sergeant" you whimpered, letting Bucky's hands roam your body, grabbing and pinching your nipples, your tight cunt squeezing his cock.

"C'mere baby, c'mere please" Bucky pleaded, pulling you down to his chest and wrapping his arms around you, planting his feet against the bed so he could fuck up into you, "Fuck that's it, mark me up!"

Bucky could feel you nip and suck on his neck hard enough to leave bruises, your words starting to slur as you both got closer and closer to your highs.

"F-fuck I love you!" you cried out, biting down hard on Bucky's shoulder as you started to cum, the head of his cock hitting your g-spot with each thrust, his pace growing sloppy.

"I-I love you princess, I love you so much-God m'gonna cum-fuck-s'so much for you-HNGG" He clung onto you like his life depended on it, shoving his cock in as deep as it would go, ropes of his warm spend shooting into you.

"I love you so much Jamie" your pussy clenched around his softening cock making him jolt, the both of you panting, pressing light kisses on sweat slicked skin. "Fell in love with you twice Sergeant"

Bucky blushed before throwing you a cocky smirk, still feeling happiness beyond what words could explain having you in his arms again.

"I'll always love you" Bucky whispered before pulling the covers up over both of you once again, staying deep inside you as you started to drift off to sleep, "No matter what"

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ebullientheart · 8 months

Text

roomies. spencer reid x reader

content — fem!bau!reader. injured!reader. fluff. anonymous request. brief injury description. reader uses conditioner. making out.

when you no longer need your live-in doctor, you find you desperately want him to stay.

you were absolutely fuming when the unsub shot you. just one, clean through the shoulder, that caused you to fall in a twist down the stairs, spraining your ankle. the chances of both of those events occurring had to be low, and spencer assured you of the statistics to back that theory up. just bad luck. fuming.

unfortunately, it also meant your life was substantially difficult to navigate while healing. you could barely shower, cook food, unlock doors, get changed. in fact it wasn’t ‘barely’, you just couldn’t. so the natural solution was to have your best friend move in with you while you were out of action entirely.

“it’s no big deal.” he shrugged. your best friend that you harboured secret feelings for, shrugged. no big deal.

there were some challenges.

“spencer,” you huffed for the tenth time that morning, “i am not swallowing those gross fish vitamins.”

he tutted at you, “they’re cod, and they’re going to help your sprain recover. valid studies have shown-”

awkwardly, you stood and used your uninjured arm to jab him in the chest, “i don’t care if they would grow me a whole new bone, they’re gross.”

it was weeks like that, when he wasn’t on cases. harmless bickering as he fussed over you like a newborn. but despite your teasing, you were not looking forward to the day he’d be moving back into his own apartment. it was nice, having someone to come home to. it took the sting out of the loneliness you felt, and you weren’t delusional for thinking he felt that way too. as your casts and slings were eased off, the both of you looked rather dejected, confusing the nurse tending to you greatly.

spencer nudged your good shoulder, “now you can help me box up my things.”

you’d gotten used to his things, though. his aftershave in the bathroom, his chess set by the couch. even his supposedly mobile library he’d moved into your apartment. you knew how empty it was going to feel.

in fear of that emptiness, you blurted it out on the car ride home from the hospital, “maybe you should stay a bit longer.”

“yeah?” he briefly took his eyes off the road to raise a brow at you, “you think you still need help?”

“i don’t need it.” you mumbled, picking the skin around your cuticles nervously. spencer noticed, and flicked your hands apart as a silent way of telling you not to do that. still taking care of you.

he didn’t push your declaration, just nodding, “okay. how long were you thinking?”

somewhere between a bated breath and a rush of words, you pushed out, “like, forever?”

this time, both his brows jumped and he had to clear his throat to stop his voice from cracking, “really? like roommates?”

no, like lovers, “yes, like roomies. nevermind, it was a stupid idea.”

“i don’t think so. i’d love to be… roomies.” the word sounded strange, too informal, coming from him, and it made you laugh. which made him smile.

after that very spencer-esque conversation, he moved the rest of his material belongings in, and put his flat up on listings. it sold fast, and you had to wonder why he’d agreed so rapidly, considering his place was notably nicer than yours. you had to wonder why he agreed at all, though it didn’t come as a surprise to anyone else that you hadn’t been able to separate. and the rest unfolded like one of the rom-coms you forced him to watch.

you no longer needed him to wash your hair over the side of the bath, which had at first been annoying because he did not wash the conditioner out properly. but now you missed it; it had become almost a bonding experience. that became true of a lot of things you’d adjusted to in the past months. him helping you into bed, you playing the wounded card to make him watch your shows on tv.

one thing that hadn’t changed was the sheer amount of card games you two played. you knew spencer was always going to win, but you tortured yourself with it anyway. one night, you were splitting the deck as you announced, “i’ve got a new game. it’s called rummy version two.”

before he could explain all the deviations rummy had from its origin over the years, making your game not a second version but at least an eighth, you rushed on to outline the rules. you were completely making it up as you went along, and continued adding to it as you played. it was impossible for you to lose, and spencer quickly figured out that you were bullshitting. for a profiler, you had a terrible poker face.

“you’re making this up.” he stated, putting his cards down.

you leant over the table, now able to rest pressure on your arm, and challenged, “prove it.”

there was a thick tension that had arisen suddenly between the pair of you, though the more you thought, the less sudden it seemed. maybe it had been building for a while. like the blush steadily rising to his cheeks as you got slightly closer to his face.

he smirked, “you’re winning.”

“rude. that doesn’t mean i’m-”

what it didn’t mean, spencer never got to hear, because it was at that moment he surged forward to close the remaining distance between your lips. you almost fell when you two collided, but his grip had attached to your upper arm to steady you. his kiss did not relent, demanding and speaking of all the impatience he’d felt recently. you responded likewise, threading your hands into his curls as soon as you got your balance, barely breaking for breath.

spencer’s skin on yours was something you had thought about more than you cared to admit, and with the fervour he was kissing you with, you thought he might’ve experienced the same. he was almost desperate against you, hands trailing to smooth over any section of exposure he could find, before one rested on the side of your face, and the other on your thigh.

“spencer,” you gasped, pulling away to catch air in your lungs, “need to breathe.”

he nodded as though he’d forgotten that, mimicking your heavy breaths, but not taking his hands off you. you rested your forehead against his and blinked. it was starting to sink in, the line you’d just crossed together.

“do we have to tell hotch about this?” you suddenly asked.

spencer frowned, “why are you thinking about hotch right now?”

you laughed and kissed him again, quickly this time, “you’re right, let’s just…”

“yeah.”

thank god he agreed to be roomies.

#🤍ebullientheart #spencer reid #criminal minds #bau!reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x injured!reader #injured!reader #fem!reader #spencer reid hurt/comfort #humour #fluff #spencer reid x bau!reader #tw injury

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mignonricciardo · 8 months

Text

small acts | dr3

this was written while listening to zach bryan's new album hence the title "small acts" after track smaller acts... this is an entirely self-indulgent fic focused on comfort and cute after the news of today's crash and daniel's injury :( i hope he's recovering well and as quick (and safely) as possible check out the end for a little instagram au <3

summary: helping daniel after an injury (and making sure everyone knows that, yes, he's still alive) (1.8k words)

warnings: none really, dutch gp crash, mentions of broken bones and x-rays, sex jokes but no sex

The week had been going too well — perfect weather in Amsterdam, no issues on flights, a date lined up for after the race, an extra day to explore the city together. I should have known something was bound to interrupt the weekend with luck like Daniel’s and mine. It’s like I watch the incident in slow motion. The orange car I was still having to remind myself wasn’t him skidding into the wall and resting right at the racing line Daniel is taking. I watch, knowing he is too close to clear it, and my stomach falls as he veers into the wall, narrowly avoiding the car only a few meters away from him. The impact is harder than I anticipate, but his voice over the radio makes me hold the headphones tighter against my ear.

He’s hurt. My heart aches as he apologizes to the team, explaining he saw the McLaren too late, but I hear how his breath is sharp through his nose. I look to his trainer, my frantic eyes must give something away, and he heads toward Daniel’s race engineer in the garage. There’s silence on the radio besides Daniel’s labored breathing, and his race engineer looks to me, following his trainer’s pointed finger. He begins again.

“Are you okay?”

The hesitation feels like it lasts forever, but when Daniel answers, my stomach drops.

“Fuck, my hand,” he says, and in the corner of my eye, I see his onboard footage as his ungloved hand shakes. “Fuck.”

I tug the headphones off my ears, pinching between my brows and attempting to calm the nerves in my stomach. It’s not long before I’m whisked away from the garage to the medical center, and race staff escorts me into the center where Daniel sits. A doctor prods at his hand as he discusses exactly what happened, and when I walk into the room, he looks to me with a soft smile, “Hey.”

My heart tugs as he sucks in a sharp breath when the doctor’s hands touch a particular part of his hand, and I head toward the chair next to where he’s seated. I sit, brushing his knee with mine as I smile back, “How are you feeling? Honestly?”

Another sharp inhale as the doctor lifts one of his fingers, “Pretty fucking bad. Better now that you’re here, though.”

Even the doctor chuckles at his shameless flirting, and I roll my eyes with a laugh. He reaches his free hand toward me, lacing our fingers and squeezing my hand, “Thank you for coming, babe.”

I nod my head, squeezing his uninjured hand back in return. It’s comfortable — our fingers interlaced and my thumb tracing the delicate bones in the back of his hand — and we sit in this silence as the doctor continues his evaluation. It’s not long before he fashions a sling around Daniel’s neck, our hands separating so he can work, placing his injured hand carefully in it. When he directs Daniel to visit the local hospital for x-rays, the injured driver lets out a groan as he mutters an are you serious? We thank the doctor who wishes him well as he goes to inform the AlphaTauri staff and Daniel’s immediate team. I reach for his free hand, finding comfort in his warm palm against mine.

“You had me scared, you know,” I say quietly, thumb rubbing along his hand. “It looked like a hard impact, and I could hear you breathing over the radio. I knew something was wrong.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, kissing the top of my head before standing from the exam table. “I didn’t think it was that bad until I tried to get out of the car. What if it’s broken?”

“We’ll figure it out,” I answer, bringing our entwined hands up to kiss the back of his. “We always do.”

It’s a long afternoon. They load Daniel, myself and his immediate team into the car bound for the hospital, and with another round of doctors poking and prodding and Daniel sharing everything, they take him for x-rays to confirm his suspicion. Broken, the doctor says, metacarpal four. I sit with him as they put a cast on him, hiding some of my favorite tattoos of his from my sight. He makes jokes about it as they do, searching for some humor as Blake calls the team to confirm he won’t be able to race the rest of the weekend. With his hand in a cast and a real immobilizer on his arm, we’re left alone in the room. He still has his race overalls around his waist, his team polo on and fireproofs cut up and long forgotten in the corner of the room.

“So much for our perfect weekend,” he mutters, squeezing my hand.

“We’ll make it work,” I whisper, standing up to give him as much of a hug as possible with his immobilizer. He leans into me, my chin resting on his curls, and he sighs contently as his good arm wraps around my waist to pull me as close as he can without aggravating his injury. One of my hands rubs his back gently, a comforting habit the two of us had picked up, “I was excited just to spend time with you, Dan. Sitting in a hotel room watching movies is just as good as whatever surprises you had planned in Amsterdam.”

“You know I love you, yeah?” he asks, head pulling away from me to meet my gaze. His eyes look tired despite the soft smile on his face, “When this is over, I’ll make it up to you.”

“All you need to do is whatever the doctors tell you so you get better as soon as possible,” I answer, leaning down to peck his lips gently. “That’s enough for me.”

“No I love you back?” he grins, pouting his lips.

I laugh, kissing his lips again, “I love you, too. We should get you back to the track to prove you’re alive. There’s been no update, so people have been asking. Even my mom texted me.”

“She loves me,” he grins, letting me help loop his good arm through his team jacket and drape the other side over his shoulder. “Must run in the family.”

“Full of yourself much?” I laugh, walking with him back toward Blake.

We load into the car back toward the track, and while Daniel isn’t quick to admit how much pain he’s really in, it’s all over his face as he grimaces with every bump in the road. I let him squeeze my hand with his good one the entire ride, clasped hands hidden in his lap, and his team talks about potential next steps and timelines. Walking back into the paddock is tough with sympathy and condolences written on everyone’s faces and resting on the tips of their tongues. Daniel does well to navigate it, answering a few questions about eventually being alright. I walk just behind him, focusing on how his uninjured hand clenches occasionally at his side. He heads into the team hospitality with everyone to meet with Franz and Christian, and he thanks me as I offer to head back to the garage to gather his things from his driver’s room. By the time I arrive back in hospitality, I have his backpack slung on my shoulder and a large bag of stroopwafels in my hand with a note attached from the marshals who helped him out of the car. He’s talking to Max when I come in, and the two drivers interrupt their conversation as I approach.

“Mate, I think she could replace you at this point,” Max grins, giving me a quick hug. “How are you holding up?”

“Ready to play nurse and enforcer if I need to,” I answer, and Max and Daniel both laugh as the latter wraps his good arm around my waist gently in an unusual display of public affection. “I’m most concerned he won’t actually take it easy. You know him, Max.”

“Have a little faith,” he laughs quietly, leaning into me.

I pass him the bag of stroopwafel, and he smiles and laughs as he reads the note from the marshals. I let him continue his conversation with Max in private, stepping away to update my family and Daniel’s family who had begun texting me due to his amount of typos with just one hand to type. After he makes his rounds, he comes up to where I sit on the couch, nudging my knee with his, “I’m sorry, babe. You ready to head back?”

I nod my head, standing and grabbing his backpack, “No need to be sorry. Just glad it didn’t end any worse.”

I yawn repeatedly on the way to our hotel, bidding Blake goodnight as he exits the elevator on his floor. We stumble into our room, exhaustion from the day finally catching up to both of us, and we immediately collapse onto the king-sized bed. We lay there for a few moments, basking in the quiet and alone from the whirlwind of the day.

“I can’t believe I’m about to do this, but I’m going to ask you to undress me and have absolutely no sexual motives,” Daniel groans, and I let out a loud roar of laughter. Tears prick at my eyes and I clutch my stomach, and he groans as he huffs that he’s serious.

“Is this a glimpse into my future?” I joke with him, helping to carefully free his arm from his immobilizer just enough to slip his team polo off.

“Talking about our future now,” he teases, and I stick my tongue out at him as I help him shimmy his race overalls off. He sits on the bed in his boxers and cast on his left wrist, and I can’t help but giggle at the sight. He laughs along with me, flopping back onto the bed as I change into one of his t-shirts before following his movements.

“You know, I’m too tired to even shower,” I yawn, curling into his side.

His injured arm lays next to him as his right arm curls around me, and he hums quietly, “Shower together in the morning? I’m going to need your help anyway.”

“You can’t wait, can you?” I can’t help but laugh at the ornery look on his face knowing he’s been caught.

He shrugs, “Well, we have to be at least a bit productive, yeah?”

“You’re unbelievable,” I groan, reaching for my phone.

He watches me scroll on it, commenting on some of my friends’ posts as I scroll past. Daniel laughs each time another text from any of our friends or family appears at the top of my screen. After the eighth text, I turn to him, huffing as he clears hair from my eyes.

“Do you think if I just post that you’re alive they’ll leave me alone for the night?”

He kisses my forehead, “I think it’s cute they know you’re my keeper, but if it gets everyone to leave you alone, go for it, babe. Plus, I need everyone in the paddock to know I have a cast so they’ll sign it tomorrow.”

“Oh my god, you really are unbelievable.”

“You love me for it!”

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liked by danielricciardo, redbullracing and 548,908 others

yourusername getting used to switching what side we usually stand on to hold hands 🤍 dan-o is okay considering everything, and we're just grateful it isn't worse. as you can see, he never stopped smiling, and he has lots of treats that will absolutely not go to waste (sorry to his diet).

thank you to all the medical staff, lovely marshals and everyone checking in!! it's time for me to play nurse now 🫣

—

landonorris is playing nurse code for something you freaks

user1 mother is mothering guys (for real now)

danielricciardo think we can do this whole in sickness and in health thing together?

maxverstappen1 did you really just propose to her in her comments yourusername leave him alone right now he's fragile (but the answer is yes we can) danielricciardo get him sweetheart (I'll start working on the ring)

alphataurif1 glad to see our guy so well taken care of (we'll pretend we didn't see the sweets)! 💙

user2 the update we've all been waiting for 🥹

oscarpiastri looking forward to seeing you back on track mate 👊

yourbestfriend this feels like karma for uni when I had to drive you around with that bum ankle

danielricciardo why have I never heard about this? yourusername no reason yourbestfriend three too many bevvies

natalie_pinkham my favorite duo 💗 can't wait to see you both back at the track

#formula one imagine #formula 1 imagine #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo fluff

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roosterforme · 1 year

Text

The Deployment Diaries Part 22 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You've been putting all of your energy into helping Bradley recover, but sometimes you need his help even more.

Warnings: Smut, angst, fluff and swearing

Length: 4300 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! Check my masterlist for the reading order!

The following week, you came home late from work, and walked into the bedroom to find Bradley laying in bed reading with Tramp's head on his stomach.

"Hey, Sweetheart. How was your day?"

You huffed and started removing your uniform, piece by piece, unpinning everything from your shirt. "Shitty, thanks for asking. And it's late, and I'm starving, and you could have at least started dinner, you know?"

Bradley froze. He knew you were going to be late, because you had texted him. He grabbed his phone as he sat up, the muscles around his ribs still pulling a bit as he did so.

You stormed around the room, changing into some shorts as he opened his message thread with you. "My text never sent to you. I already took care of dinner, Baby Girl. I ordered from that place with the spicy chicken you like. Figured you deserve something better than whatever I would make without supervision. Should be here soon."

You paused and looked at him as you pulled on a shirt. "Oh. Okay. Well thanks."

The doorbell rang, and Bradley brought the food into the dining room. You settled into your seat with your plate of dinner, and Bradley brought you one of the many bottles of hot sauce just in case. When he sat down and you started eating, he patted his thigh.

You looked like you were going to tell him no, but you stood and slid into his lap with your plate of food.

"That's better," he whispered, kissing your cheek.

"I'm sorry I was short with you, Roo. I am exhausted, and I have to give a presentation to a bunch of admirals from Lemoore tomorrow. It's for funding our research, and I barely have any time to prepare."

"I can help you," he promised as he ate. "After dinner, why don't you relax in the bath while I clean up, and then I'll help you the rest of the night until you feel ready."

"Yeah. Okay," you agreed. And an hour later, you were wearing his UVA shirt with a pair of his underwear, your hair in a bun on top of your head, and pacing slowly around the living room.

"Our projections for upgraded safety protocols show a twenty seven percent improvement in the ability of the Super Hornet pilot to communicate with the tower. This is not insignificant, based on the last several updates. That information is provided on page thirty of the handout, and you can see that the-"

Bradley put his hand up to interrupt. "It's actually on page thirty one, Sweetheart."

"Shit," you muttered, standing with your hands on your hips. "I knew that."

"Of course you knew that, but you seem very nervous."

You threw your hands up in the air. "Of course I'm nervous, Bradley! The entire purpose of this is to get more funding to keep you safe!"

He smiled at you. "I love you, but you've got to remove me from this equation while you're doing the presentation. Don't think about me or Nat or Jake. Just think about some random pilot in Lemoore that you're trying to make sure has updated software. Okay?"

You sighed and stretched your arms, getting yourself ready to start over again. And when you did, your presentation went much better. You ran through it two more times flawlessly, and Bradley pulled you down to his lap. "That was perfect, Sweetheart. You'll knock them flat on their asses with your well researched information that I can barely understand."

You laughed as he stood with you in his arms. "You shouldn't be lifting me yet!" you screeched, scrambling out of his grasp. "That's naughty! I'll tell your doctor!"

Bradley laughed and led you to the bedroom. "Let's practice your presentation once more, but this time I'll make it fun for you. And then you'll be relaxed for tomorrow."

He undressed you slowly, running his thumbs along the undersides of your breasts before stripping off his own clothing and laying back against the pillows. "Climb up here, Baby Girl, and get to work," he rasped, rubbing his thigh right next to his hard dick.

You moaned as you crawled up the bed, kissing the spot he had been rubbing before getting into position and sinking down around his length. You moaned a little bit, and Bradley gently smacked your ass as he said, "Go ahead and get started, Lieutenant."

"Our projections for upgraded safety protocols show... oh God, Roo!" you whined as he pumped up into you.

But then he froze when you got off course. "Keep going, Lieutenant. You keep going and then I'll keep going." Bradley watched you bite your lip and try to fight for control.

"Okay, okay," you groaned. "Show a twenty seven percent improvement in the ability of the Super Hornet pilot to communicate with the tower. Oh God, you feel so good."

Bradley chuckled. "Is that part of the presentation?"

"It is now," you whined, because he had stopped thrusting again. You tried to bounce on him a bit, but he grabbed your hips and stilled your movement. You whimpered, but he just shook his head.

"Um, this information is not insignificant," you moaned in pleasure as he started moving again. "It's based on research that is provided for you on page thirty one of the handout."

You tossed your head back as Bradley fucked up into you harder and harder. His ribs were aching now, but he didn't want to stop.

"You're doing so well, Lieutenant. Keep going."

"The models are based on calculations that we have been collecting for the past year, and I am fucking awesome, thanks for listening to my presentation," you said, your voice getting louder as Bradley laughed and flipped you onto your back.

"The admirals are going to love that closing statement," he grunted, putting both of your legs over his shoulders and grabbing your thighs. He kissed your legs as he pushed himself inside you once more.

You giggled until Bradley pushed your knees back to your shoulders and slammed into you. He was practically folding you in half.

"Roo!" you moaned, but he fucked you at a steady pace that soon had you whining and crying out. He loved it when he got you like this; you were unable to even form real words as his skin slapped against yours.

"Baby Girl, you're so sweet," he told you as he fucked you harder until you were gasping for air, his weight pushing down on you. You grabbed his hair and pulled him down to kiss you as you came, moaning against his mouth.

"Your presentation is going to be so good. I wish I could watch you in action," he told you, still chasing his own finish.

"If you're a good boy, maybe I'll practice it one more time wearing one of my calendar outfits."

"Fuck. Yes." Bradley chanted as he came inside you.

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

Your presentation went well enough that your lab was granted a huge amount of money to continue with research. Commander Bickel took you and your colleagues out for the fanciest lunch you had ever eaten in your life, and you were keeping your fingers crossed that you'd see a promotion soon as well.

Bradley had been celebrating with you for the last few days, even opening a bottle of champagne one evening.

He finally got most of the remaining stitches removed, and his face was looking mostly bruise free by this point. "I'm starting to look okay again," he remarked, looking in the bathroom mirror as you both got ready for a night at the Hard Deck.

You rolled your eyes. "Seriously, Roo. You looked handsome to me even with the bruising. If you looked any better right now, I wouldn't be able to take you out in public. Can't wait to see how many times you get hit on tonight," you said sarcastically.

Bradley chuckled as he buttoned his shirt. "You know, you're one to talk, Sweetheart. You get cornered in conversation with some random guy every time we go to the bar."

"It's usually one of my coworkers!"

Bradley gave you a bland look. "That guy who was trying to get you to meet him in the parking lot to check out his Harley? That was one of your coworkers?"

It took you a second to recall what he was talking about, but then you doubled over laughing as you were trying to finish your makeup. "No, that guy was just very, very drunk."

"Yeah, well. I rest my case."

The Hard Deck was packed by the time you and Bradley arrived, and you were once again thankful that the aviators seemed to have their own little area.

"Rooster, you look great!" Phoenix said, pulling him into a hug. She handed him her brand new bottle of beer, saying, "I can go get another. Have this one."

You butted in. "Just one drink! He's still on medication!" But he was already taking a sip and winking at you. "I'm serious, Bradley. Just one."

"Okay, Baby Girl," he told you before he kissed you on the forehead.

You followed Nat up to the bar to get yourself a drink too, and you both ended up chatting with Coyote who had finally returned from deployment. His had been much longer than Bradley's but far less action packed. You must have been up there for a while, because when you returned to the pool table, Bradley was cracking up at something Bob was saying, and he had a glass of what looked like whiskey in his hand.

"Who got him another drink?" you asked accusingly. You instantly knew it was Jake by the way he wouldn't meet your eyes.

"Seriously?" you asked, stopping an inch in front of him. "He's taking a prescription for his injuries! The last thing I need is a sloppy Rooster. Are you going to come take care of him in the middle of the night when he's a fucking wreck and like singing show tunes at the piano or something?!"

Jake burst out laughing. "We tried to tell you the piano was a bad idea, Angel. Plus this is fair retaliation for what you two made me walk in on in the rec room!"

You just cradled your face in your hand. You should have known you'd be hearing about that again. "I told you guys, one drink! No more!"

"That's only his third. He'll be fine. He's just playing pool. Here, throw some darts with me."

You turned your back for a few minutes, just long enough to lose to Jake. Then when you went to check on your boyfriend, you found him with another half empty beer bottle in his hand. His cheeks were rosy and his eyes were a little unfocused as he sipped the drink.

"Hey, Baby Girl! You're so pretty, come here." He finished the beer and reached out with grabby hands.

"Oh, Lord," you muttered as he grabbed your waist and pulled you against him.

"I love you, you're so pretty. I could look at you all day long." Bradley's words were a little slurred, and his smile was so goofy. You had to grab his hands and put them at his sides when he started reaching for the bottom of your shirt.

He started kissing your neck and pulled his hands free to play with your hair as Payback said, "It's not even eleven o'clock yet. How much did he drink?"

"Too much, apparently," you replied, trying to get Bradley to sit on the empty stool next to Fanboy. "This is why I tried to tell you guys he could only have one drink. I just knew he would get like this."

Bradley stumbled into the seat and unbuttoned his Hawaiian shirt. "Hot in here," he mumbled, handing the shirt to you. "Thanks, Sweetheart."

You slipped his shirt on over your tee so you wouldn't lose it, because you were pretty sure it was one that had belonged to his dad, and then you just shrugged helplessly at him sitting there in his tank. "What am I going to do with you now, Bradley?"

"You're gonna love me," he told you with a grin.

"It was a rhetorical question," you muttered. "Stay here. I'm going to get him some water," you told Fanboy who nodded before offering some pool tips to Bob.

You turned to check on Bradley from the bar, and at least he was right where you left him. But the bar was crowded, and it seemed like everyone you knew was trying to chat with you. By the time you had a glass of water and were on your way back to the pool table, he was practically shirtless with another woman chatting him up, and he was giving her puppy eyes.

"Jesus, maybe I should just let her deal with him," you muttered to Phoenix who looked like she was ready to fight someone if needed.

"You've just gotta meet my girlfriend. Her name is Sweetheart and she's so pretty," he rambled to the other girl. "That's her!" Bradley announced when he saw you.

"Um, hi," the other woman muttered. "Sorry," she added before swiftly making her exit.

"That woman asked for my phone number," he said, reaching for you again. "I told her no."

You sighed. "Fanboy! I asked you to watch him for like five minutes!"

"Sorry! Hey, you wanna play pool with me?" Fanboy asked, handing you a pool cue.

"No, I'm trying to get this one to drink some freaking water!"

Bradley downed the entire glass of water when you pressed it to his lips. "I love you," he said loudly. "I'm going to take care of you forever. That's all I wanna do. Love you and take care of you. And fuck you."

"Shhh," you scolded, taking the glass before he could drop it. "That's enough, Roo."

Fanboy, Bob and Jake stopped playing pool to shake their heads and laugh. "I am so sorry I let him have that bourbon, Angel," Jake told you with a rotten grin on his face.

You tried to keep Bradley from pawing at you, but it wasn't working. "Aww, Sweetheart. I'll take such good care of you, like I always do."

"Okay, Bradley. How about you try to stand up," you said trying to coax him to his feet, but he just went rambling on as he stood.

He kissed your lips and cupped your cheeks with both hands. His eyes were so loving and sincere as he told you quite loudly, "I'm gonna put a baby in you, Sweetheart. I'm gonna get you so pregnant. Fuck you every day when you stop taking the pill."

"Someone please kill me," you mumbled, trying to put your hand over his mouth as the guys all started hooting.

"Oh my God," muttered Phoenix, silently gagging and dropping her pool cue.

"I almost did it already, and we weren't even trying," he added, pulling your hands away from his face. "But I'd love to keep trying. Give you a ring first, so you know I'm serious." He was grabbing you by the waist again, and now Payback was catcalling you both.

"Bradley, my love?" you asked him, and his eyes met yours in trustworthy affection. "If you don't shut up, I'm going to leave you here for the night."

"Let's go home and get in bed," he murmured against your neck.

You looked to your left and saw Jake and Bob. "You and you, help me get him to the car. Now."

You watched the guys hoist your boyfriend into the front seat of the Bronco while he told them in some detail about how many kids he hoped to have with you. Once he was buckled in and the door was closed, Jake mussed up your hair and laughed hysterically.

"Oh, Angel. You have the patience of a saint."

Payback was trying not to laugh before he burst into giggles. "Twelve kids, huh?"

You groaned and walked to the driver's side, saying, "Thanks a lot guys," over your shoulder.

You started the engine and Bradley gazed at you longingly.

"If you throw up in here, it's your own fault. I told you one drink!"

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

Bradley woke up with a throbbing headache. He wanted to open his eyes, but his body was telling him he would throw up if he did, so he just opened them a crack.

"What the hell?" He could barely move. It seemed like he had slept all night on the bathroom floor. Although he was wrapped in a blanket and resting on a pillow, he could feel the cold, hard floor tiles digging into his shoulder and hip.

He tried to sit up, but immediately flopped back down onto the pillow. His ribs were aching. How did he have a hangover? What did he do last night?

"Oh, good. You're awake."

He could hear you, but he didn't want to open his eyes again.

"Sweetheart? What happened?"

You laughed sardonically, and Bradley felt you step over his body to get to the sink vanity.

"I told you not to have more than one drink, but you didn't listen to me. And I'm so mad at Jake for buying you bourbon."

Bradley sat up gingerly and opened his eyes. "Why did I sleep in here?"

You shook your head at him. "Because you barely made it to the toilet before you started throwing up. And then you held Tramp up to your face and told him, and I quote, 'Let me sleep in the bathroom so my wife doesn't get mad' end quote."

Bradley opened his mouth to speak, but he just sat on the floor staring up at you.

"So, you are either already married, or you are under the impression that you've married me or Tramp."

Then he started to remember the previous night at the Hard Deck. Talking about making babies and engagement rings. He was panicking, suddenly convinced he had asked you to marry him while cross-faded on bourbon and pain killers.

"I can tell by the look on your face that you're remembering some of what you said at the bar."

Bradley met your eyes and whispered, "Yes. Oh my god, how badly did I embarrass you?"

Your face broke out into a smile as you knelt on the floor next to him and kissed his cheek. "I'm not embarrassed, but maybe you should be. You told the guys you want to pump me full of babies! I thought Phoenix was going to cry!"

Bradley groaned and kissed your neck. "I'm not embarrassed about that, Baby Girl. I'd tell you that shit sober. I'd say it in front of the guys, too."

"I know you would," you whispered, running the tip of your nose along his scarred cheek. "Come on. I need you to get up and make sure your dress whites fit for your promotion banquet later this week."

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

Bradley got undressed to try on his uniform while you were making dinner. After drinking about a gallon of water plus a few cups of coffee, his head was throbbing much less. As he walked in front of the full length mirror, he paused to examine himself. He'd been avoiding his own reflection as frequently as possible since he came home injured, and this was exactly why.

His left arm was absolutely covered in random pink scars. They would probably fade over time, just as the ones on his face and neck had, but these ones looked fresh and angry. He ran his right hand over the uneven skin and grimaced. Because on top of the scars, he had lost a lot of his muscle definition.

Gone were his abs, only to be replaced by a little bit of pudge around his midsection. His biceps were nowhere near the size they had been, and now his shoulders looked lacking as well. Just a few short weeks of being banned from physical activity to help him heal, and now he would be spending months getting back to where he had been.

Sighing, he pulled out his uniform and started to dress. The shirt wasn't as tight across his chest as it used to be. The jacket and pants were a little loose as well. "Shit," he mumbled as he buttoned the jacket and looked in the mirror straight on.

You were literally a goddess, the most charming and lovely woman he had ever met. All you had to do was look at Bradley, and he was ready to take you to bed. Your body was perfection, all smooth skin and gorgeous features. He could look at you all day and never tire of the view. You deserved the best of everything in his mind. But he was so flawed, and now it was even worse.

"Dinner is just about ready, Roo... oh, my god!" You stopped in the doorway and stared at him. You were so pretty, your hair down, framing your face, wearing one of his shirts and his gym shorts.

"What's wrong?" he asked, shifting nervously. "Is the fit noticeably bad?" He looked down at his uniform and then back at you.

You slowly shook your head. "You look so good," you whispered in a dreamy voice that made him shiver.

Somehow you always made him feel sexy. He knew there was something about him that women liked. He got hit on occasionally at the Hard Deck, and he'd never had a hard time finding women who wanted to fuck him. But you always seemed to make him feel like he almost perhaps deserved you.

"Well, I guess I look better in the uniform than out of it now," he remarked, checking himself in the mirror again.

"What's that supposed to mean?" you asked him barely above a whisper as you walked over to him and ran your hands up and down his white uniform sleeves.

Bradley watched you chew on your bottom lip as he said, "Just, you know... my arm looks totally fucked, and I no longer have abs."

"I'm sorry, I'm having a hard time understanding what you're saying right now," you whispered. "Are you trying to tell me my boyfriend isn't gorgeous?"

Bradley opened his mouth to speak, but you were already inside his jacket and working on the buttons of his shirt. Your lips met his neck in an open mouthed kiss that ended in a moan, and your fingers were now rubbing his chest hair.

"Um, I can't remember what I was about to say," he groaned as your hand trailed to the front of his white pants.

"You're hot, Bradley," you told him, licking his neck scar. "And you always will be."

"I'm glad you think so, Baby Girl," he whispered as you got your hand inside his pants.

You finished undressing him, and it felt so fucking natural. You had already seen his arm with the stitches removed, and you'd seen his soft middle. Maybe it wasn't all as bad as he imagined?

"You're hot. And I'm far from the only one who thinks so. You literally got hit on last night in your tank," you told him as you lowered his pants. Bradley had no recollection of that, but he supposed it must have happened if you said it did.

"Besides, you told me last night at the bar that all you want to do is love me and take care of me," you told him as you draped his dress whites over the dresser and guided him to bed. "Sure, you were wasted at the time, but that's all I want to do for you, too."

Bradley let you run your fingers down his left arm, and you left a trail of kisses there as well. "Looks ugly," he mumbled.

"You're perfect, Roo. And I know you wouldn't complain if I had scars."

"Fuck no, I wouldn't care, Sweetheart," Bradley said, and then smirked as you pushed him down on his back on the bed. "You kind of tricked me into agreeing with you."

"Yes, I did, because I'm right," you said with a grin. "I love your body all the time, especially right now, because you came back home to me."

Bradley pulled you down on top of him with a bubble of laughter. "Fine. I look good. We'll be the hottest couple at the promotion ceremony."

"You're damn right we will be!" you agreed. Bradley worked his hands into the back of the waistband of the shorts and guided them down your hips. He watched you wiggle out of your underwear before you settled against him, straddling his midsection. He groaned and tossed his head back against the pillows while you rubbed your pussy along the scant trail of hair below his belly button. "So hot," you moaned, and Bradley looked up to see the wetness you were leaving on his skin.

"Fuck, fuck!" he gasped, his hands were on your hips, guiding you to grind harder against him. He watched you pull his tee shirt off followed by your bra. "So fucking pretty."

You leaned down to kiss his lips, muttering, "So are you," as you rubbed yourself all over him. When you finally guided him inside you, whining as you took his length, Bradley was seeing stars.

You rode him so well, one hand grabbing his left arm, and the other planted gently on his belly where he was still slick with your wetness. Bradley watched your hungry gaze on his body as you got off on his dick, and of course he was right there with you.

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

Thanks for reading! Next up is Bradley's promotion ceremony. Just three chapters left in this series!

PART 23

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541 notes · View notes

krizariel · 7 months

Text

Follow up to this post

It’s been a few weeks since then and Tim is almost fully recovered. Soon he will be able to go back home. While Tim wanted to go back to the nest, Alfred had different plans.

“Preposterous Master Drake. You are going back to the mansion where you can be given proper care whilst you continue your recovery. There’s much you’ve lost and you need all the support you can get to get fully back on your feet. No objections.”

“Knowing you, you will want to get back to work right away. I brought you your laptop as a compromise.”

“Thank you Alfie.”

The nurses knocked on the door as it was time for his regular check up. Alfred left the room to let them do their job saying he’d be outside.

“Is your boyfriend not here today?” She asked as she was taking his blood pressure.

“ My who?!”

“Wow careful sweetie. Your heart rate”

Well I’m not the one who asked about my non-existent boyfriend what the hell lady!?

“Dark, tall and handsome? skunk hair? He has been here almost every day for over a year.” She continued.

“At first we thought he was a ghost haha” another nurse chimed in. “Almost every morning, when we'd come clean you up there was a flower, always had enough water. Sometimes we'd see a new flower.”

“You did get multiple visitors at the beginning but later the visits were more spread out and they didn't stay long so we knew when someone had visited. So it was SO strange that you'd always have fresh flowers and sometimes even books by your bed!”

"There was no one here near the end of the day and some nurses were too scared to enter the room in the middle of the night.”

"One time they peeked and one swore they saw a shadow by the corner so they called security. When we came in with a group of guards, no one was in the room. Everything was in place except for a new flower."

Another nurse peeked in. “Y’all talking about the lover ghost?” “The what now?!” Tim said "Yeah, yeah, come in!" Why are they just inviting themselves?! “Listen. Sometimes some nurses were scared to come in during the night but you were always peaceful, nothing out of place. Usually, with patients like you, rooms become silent and more empty as time goes by. It's…common. For visitors to slowly lose hope and being unable to continue visiting often. Each person deals with grief differently.” "But in your case, as months went by, your room was more…lived?" "Later Mr. Wayne let us know if we saw a certain Mr. Peters come in to visit that he was to be included in the list of people allowed to visit you." “We suspect he was our ghost!” A new nurse excitedly added, from behind Tim. WHERE ARE THEY COMING FROM!? "What makes you think Mr. Peters is the one that had been visiting me during the time I was in a coma?" "Well, if it's not him, then you had two suitors and one of them was a ghost. I'd go with the first option if I was you." “We haven't seen someone so dedicated so have to admit we were really rooting for you both. We haven't seen him lately though.” an older nurse continued. “Did something happen?” Another one asked. “No just… we are not- “ Tim felt a bit at loss as he was still processing all this information. Alfred, god bless him, made his presence be known at that moment. The head nurse was trailing behind him. “Excuse me ladies. Master Drake requires some rest.” Alfie said as he put his hand on Tim's shoulder, reassuringly. "Everyone please, stop bothering Mr. Drake and chop-chop, there's plenty to do." The head nurse said and then turned to Tim. "As for you Mr. Drake, it looks like everything is looks good. The doctor will see you in a minute to give you some final instructions and to tell you when will be your next check up but looks like you are ready to be discharged." And with that, she left. ----

Once he was finally back at the mansion and settled in his room, he finally gave himself time to think about what the nurses said. He just… it wouldn't leave him alone.

He will have to face Jason again, isn't he?

It didn't take long. And Tim suspects Alfred had a hand in it… "Hey." "Hi." By the way Jason's mouth moved, it looked like he had something to say but kept aborting saying anything. Tim could relate. "Sorry, Alfred wanted me to come to have tea with him this afternoon and was really insistent. I couldn't say no. Good to see you are doing well." "Yeah. Thank you." "Anyway, I'm on my way out so-" "WAIT" Tim grabbed Jason's arm before he could bolt out. He had to ask. "The nurses told me a story… about a ghost." "Uh?" "Yeah. Apparently a rumor started… of a ghost who kept leaving flowers and making noise in my hospital room. Who kept visiting me and keeping me company. They were apparently very charmed." "Oh." "Was it really you?" "I…yeah. Listen I never said anything because I didn't want to look lke a creep. I know it sounds nuts but I might have developed a bit of a crush on you…" "While I was unconscious??" "Let it be known I never said this made any sense." Jason continued "I just wanted to keep you company, to not be forgotten… because I know how it felt to come back and feeling that way. As time went by, I started learning every bit I could. I knew you as red robin but not the real you. I never bothered, and I started to want it really badly." Tim was at loss of words because a part of him wanted to stay upset but he couldn't find it it himself to stay mad in light of all this new information. "It was stupid of me to think that you'd wake up and maybe there could be a chance. But believe me I honestly didn't think it would be that simple. I know I can't take the hurt back but if you'll have me I want nothing more than to make it up to you and give this a try" Tim felt the smile grow in his face. He couldn't help it. It felt like getting closure in the best possible way. Maybe right now he really didn't want to focus on romance but he felt warmth at the thought of having his family around and Jason as well. The fact that Jason thought about him that far… is proof that his affections were never misplaced. "How about we take it slow and just see where it goes. I'd like it if you stick around." Suddenly he felt strong arms around him. Jason was hugging him tightly and just like that Tim couldn't help but feeling genuinely happy. Despite the situation, whatever the future hold didn't seem so bad. "Thank you babybird. I swear I'll make it worth your while." Jason said as he pulled slightly away and held Tim's face tenderly with both hands. "Alright… I could use a spar partner, wanna help a guy?"

"You got it." ----

It's been a few months since then and here they are. Jason usually wakes up first. He almost can't believe he gets to watch him sleep and wake up every day. He will hold on to this for as long as possible. For as long as Tim will have him. "Hey, sleeping beauty." "Hey, handsome." Part 1 Part 2

#jaytim #jason todd #tim drake #done thank you thank you hands you a potato #tbh the idea of jay staying keeping Tim company #and spooking the nurses #was the whole reason this came to be #the nurses ship them hard #its their telenovela #not fic

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scarlett-vixen · 2 years

Note

ooooh congrats on 300!! could I request O with Mammon for your event? fluff would be cute! thank you!!

Thank you!! All these mammon requests make my heart happy, he deserves better ⚠️ full disclosure: I’ve never personally had my wisdom teeth removed but have witnessed several friends have it done so I’m basing my knowledge from that don’t sue me

Prompt: O- Operation

Pairing: Mammon x Gn!Reader

Genre: Fluff

“NUH-UH! NO WAY!”

“Mammon, please,” Lucifer groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose “you don’t have a say in the matter, this is not your decision!”

“Don’t care! Ain’t no way I’m lettin’ em do this!! NOT TO MY HUMAN!!” The second born was in full defense mode, guarding you with his body while staring down the oldest who sat at the end of the table. He was so loyal to you, even when he didn’t know what he was protecting you from.

“Mams?” You chuckled “do you even know what they’re going to do to me?” Knowing full and well he did not know the exact operation you would undergo.

“N-no….but I don’t care! Satan said they might have to put you to sleep to do it! And NO ONE is puttin’ you to sleep!” Mammon turned halfway to face you, still keeping an eye on Lucifer. What started as a simple discussion about you needing a surgical procedure had snowballed into the argument currently playing out.

It all started a week ago, you were having some pain in the back of your mouth, it started off mild but soon became unbearable. You kept the pain to yourself as best you could, not wanting to alarm the brothers, but lost control of the situation when you were out eating at Ristorante Six with the brothers plus everyone from Purgatory Hall.

You were careful to take small bites, not wanting to inflict pain on yourself during this group meal, but got caught up in a story Simeon had been telling the table.

“OW! SHIT!!” The pain shot through your jaw, you grabbed your cheek with both hands as if that would help somehow.

“Language!” Asmodeus scolded, covering Luke’s ears

“Oi! What happened?!”

“Were you attacked by someone?”

Mammon and Lucifer were both on their feet immediately, ready to interrogate your attacker. You started to answer but the pain in your mouth was too strong, you folded in on yourself causing even more panic from the table.

Eventually the pain subsided enough for you explain what happened, you scheduled an appointment to be seen the next day, Solomon had accompanied you since the appointment was in the human world and he had the most knowledge on how to help you if something went wrong.

As you suspected you needed your wisdom teeth removed, you returned home to inform the others that you would be undergoing an oral surgical procedure and would probably be on bed rest for a few days after to recover.

Needless to say this invoked some very heartfelt but confused questions.

“THEY JUST STEAL YOUR TEETH LIKE THAT?!”

“Wait, so do humans store their wisdom inside their mouths? Are you going to be dumb after this?”

“You have to wait how long until you can eat normal food again??”

“Darling, I love you but if you drool blood on me I may throw up…and that’s not very glamorous.”

But nothing could have prepared you for the battle Mammon put up. He was already upset that some doctor was going to be removing things from you, then he found out you would be traveling to the human world for the surgery.

He argued and fought with Lucifer for the next hour, after realizing that he wasn’t giving up anytime soon you finally made an offer.

“Why doesn’t Mammon just go with me? I need someone to watch over me while I’m there and to help me get back here. He already watches out for me on a daily so what’s the difference?”

Lucifer gave in quickly, just wanting to be done with the conversation. Mammon still wasn’t happy about the surgery but felt better being the one to look after you.

The day of the operation arrived and the two of you traveled up to the human world. You sat in the waiting room in anticipation of being called back to begin prepping.

“Still don’t see why they gotta take stuff from ya…perfect the way ya are…”

“What?” You questioned.

“What?!” The second born jumped, unaware he had said that out loud.

“Mams I promise, I’ll be fine! Humans have this done all the time, plus if I don’t do this I’ll still be in pain and you don’t want that right? It’s a one day thing, I’ll be in and out.” You placed a hand on his thigh trying to comfort him.

“Yeah, yeah I know! Satan let me read the books he had…” He shifted in his seat and crossed his arms “it’s just… what if ya don’t wake up? What if they mess up and use too much anesthesia or not enough or they take the wrong teeth or they sneeze and cut the wrong thing or—“

“MAMS!” You grabbed his face with both hands. “You’re spiraling. I promise I will be okay! I brought you here to make me feel better, not to panic and start writing my obituary.”

The second born blushed realizing he was probably just adding on to your stress, he put his arm around you pulling you close hoping to soothe both your nerves.

Eventually you were called back, Mammon reluctantly let you go and sat by himself waiting for you to return. After what seemed like an eternity the two of you were reunited, luckily you had warned him about the after affects the pain medication and anesthesia had on humans otherwise he would have sworn they replaced you with someone else.

The journey home had been long and extremely entertaining for both of you, Mammon had to remind you who he was about four times but you were always very polite when asking, you babbled on about things that made no sense at all, you kept asking him if he was old because of his white hair, he truly felt like a babysitter at this point.

Once home he helped you to your room, which you somehow remembered perfectly but asked about ‘the grumpy old guy who yelled at you for being late and looked like he needed to get laid’. Mammon had pushed you into your room before his brothers could start interrogating this new and very honest version of you or before Lucifer could strangle you.

“Geez, ya sure know how to get yerself in trouble huh? Where’d ya learn that from!?” The second born huffed as he helped take off your shoes.

“I learned it from this really cute guy I know,” you let out an unusually high pitched laugh “he gets in trouble a lot!”

“Oh yeah?” Mammon threw your shoe to the side and snapped his head up to look at you, the small amount of anger he felt hearing you say ‘cute guy’ vanished when he looked up at you.

Even in your delirious and drunk state you were still breath taking to him, your cheeks were a bright red, you held your hands together between your thighs, you had the goofiest grin on your face. He’d never seen you this smitten before and wanted to photograph the moment but was frozen in his spot when you kept talking.

“Mhmmmm, he’s super taaaall, has reeeeeally pretty eyes, he’s super funny and smart,” Mammon was convinced you were referring to one of his brothers until you unleashed the most crucial detail. “and he has the prettiest and softest white hair too!”

Mammon’s heart swelled in his chest, how dare you say all these cute things to him while totally unaware of what’s going on! He thought he was going to explode, he wanted to kiss you right then and there, nobody had ever said such sweet things about him. He wanted to see how much more you would say about him but knew it wasn’t fair in your current state.

“Psh, he doesn’t sound so hot to me, just a normal guy.” Mammon stood up finally, he turned to collect your discarded shoe.

“Nope, not even close! He’s a Demon Lord!” The second born glanced over his shoulder to see you gently kicking your feet as your legs hung off the bed, he was baffled by how easily humans were affected by pain killers.

“Yeah, well ya better keep yer mouth shut about that last part, unless ya want Lucifer to tie ya up!” He bent down to pick up your shoe.

“I’d rather tie up his younger brother.”

Mammon froze again, his face flushed and his heart went wild, you really had no filter did you? This operation had been both a blessing and a curse for him, he needed you to recover fast so he could return the favor.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me mammon #obey me mc #obey me fanfic #obey me mammon x gn!reader #obey me mammon fluff #obey me mammon x reader #kats 200+ event #omswd mammon #om! mammon

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bijoumikhawal · 4 months

Text

Bite the Hand that Starves You: Chapter One

(originally posted 12/5/23 on AO3)

Fic as of chapter contains: discussion of abortion, references to drug use, intersex and trans characters

---

Julian shouldn’t have been in the infirmary at this hour. His shift ended quite some time ago, but while he was up eating a middle of the night snack, he realized he’d forgotten a personal padd down here with a book he’d been reading on it. He certainly could have replicated a new one. But the excuse to get in a decent walk and enjoy the quiet of the station at night had convinced him otherwise.

Vusora wasn’t up and about the main room of the infirmary. More likely than not a patient had called for her- over-nighters were moved to private rooms, if possible. Ishiha either was also helping a patient or had been allowed to rest early.

Julian felt a bit uneasy, though this was all normal.

His unease grew when he heard a slight sound from near the back.

Quietly, he walked towards it. Maybe it was a nurse. If it wasn’t, he didn’t want to tip them off.

He heard another scuffling sound, and he was close enough to determine it was the pharmaceutical closet, normally locked. Then silence.

When Julian had the inside in his direct line of sight, it was hard to describe what he felt.

“Oh, Garak.”

Garak didn’t turn to face him, simply holding still like he was contemplating the possibility of melting into the shelf.

---

Julian sat down across from Garak in his office. "Alright. Why were you attempting to steal from the infirmary stores?"

Garak had gone along with him without struggle, but was petulant as expected. "Why do you think? Surely you remember the last few months."

Julian rested his chin on his hand. He certainly did. After Garak claimed to be recovered, there naturally were aftershocks. He reluctantly submitted himself to checkups- for a week. Then he abruptly refused to see just about anyone, working on alterations from his quarters and only having his shop open for two hours each day, primarily to allow customers to pick up their orders and do final fittings.

That bizarre behavior had ended a few weeks ago… not too long before the incident with the Dominion simulation.

"I'm just curious, if you are looking for a high, whatever made you think this would do it." Julian held up the vial, having slipped it into his hand while ushering Garak out.

"I'm curious as to why you haven't called security."

Julian continued, ignoring him. "Perhaps you were reaching for something else?" He rolled the vial in-between his fingers before putting it on his desk. "Because this is a Rigellian abortifacient. And while I'm not certain, the information I do have leads me to believe taking any significant dosage would likely give a Cardassian liver damage." It was a 77.6 percent likelihood based on current data, his brain provided helpfully.

Garak looked at him balefully, saying nothing.

Julian tapped the top of the vial. "I would've hoped you had learned not to hide this sort of thing from me, Garak."

"Yes, yes, you're very clever, doctor. You simply know about every sneeze on this station the second it happens." Garak said with a sneer.

"Are you pregnant, Garak?"

Garak retreated again. "Don't be absurd."

"What's absurd about it? I haven't done that kind of examination, of course, so I don't know your personal anatomy, and that makes it a very fair question."

His mouth was held in a firm, thin line.

"Garak. I'm not judging you, or whatever it is that made you think stealing medication was a wise course of action. I just want to help." Julian paused. "And if you are, even a Bajoran medication-"

"-Is still not suited to my biology and has similar risks to what you have in your hand right now. I decided acute liver failure was preferable to cardiopulmonary damage."

Julian didn't smile. "Alright. I'm fairly certain it's less likely, but that would be a risk." He made a mental note that Garak might have a family history of heart and lung problems.

Garak seemed put out that by saying such, he had admitted to the issue. He also just- seemed tired. Some of his hair had escaped the hold of the styling product he normally used. There was redness in his eyes, too, and though the implant had been deactivated months ago, he still looked somewhat ill.

Julian leaned forwards. “I’m not currently planning on reporting this.”

Garak scoffed. “I guessed as much. You should, you know.”

Julian closed his eyes and inhaled. “Which of us is the doctor, again? You seem to have come under the impression that it’s you.”

“When it comes to me, I should think we’re evenly matched.”

Julian didn’t rise to the bait. “As I said, I just want to help. Unfortunately, my knowledge is limited in this area.”

Garak’s hand settled on the desk. Julian picked up the vial again.

“Give me two months.” Julian said. “And if I don’t have a better option, I’ll administer the dose. I’ll do everything I can to mitigate the side affects- anything you need.”

Garak was death-still, gaze tilted downwards.

Julian cautiously reached out, resting his hand on Garak’s upper arm. He could feel his muscles stiffen, then relax under his touch. “I would think this goes without saying, but I will speak of this to no one on this station. And if you need someone- to talk to, to help you, to-“

“I understand.” Garak said, in the tone of someone who just wished you’d stop talking.

Julian gave his arm a squeeze.

“Is this something you offer for all your patients?”

“You’re my friend as well as a patient.” Julian keyed his office door back open, standing at the door to let Garak know he could leave like a dvarapala. “It's late- you should head home, get some rest. I’ll call you when I’m more prepared to help you with this.”

Garak didn’t need much encouragement to go. Julian went back to his office to mark down some notes. And when he left, of course he almost forgot his padd again.

---

Nothing was quite as humiliating as getting caught while doing something he should have been perfectly capable of. And worse, he wasn’t even in trouble for it, because it was such a pathetic thing to be caught doing.

Garak kicked the wall of the turbolift with uncharacteristically unrestrained violence. Of all the things that could compound the situation here, this was the last thing he’d expected. It was a possibility, yes- but it had slipped his mind entirely in the years he'd spent as the only Cardassian on the station, which was unforgivable.

And of course, of course Dr. Bashir had been understanding about it. Garak wished he had called security. There were rules, and so there were consequences. That all made sense. Mercy! What was mercy- foolishness, a tool of confusion, a lapse in duty!

Everything was so sharp without the wire.

He wondered to himself, if Dr. Bashir was relieved that he hadn’t been trying to get high, or if he was confounded by him having yet another medical issue. Probably not the latter- challenges were met with eagerness and a cocksure attitude that a solution could be found. Dr. Bashir was still early in his career, after all, and even doctors with decades of experience…

He needed an auxiliary plan. Certainly, Dr. Bashir had said he’d administer the treatment himself, but he’d only said it, and even if he’d offered to make a record of it, he was free to change his mind. It was a privilege of expertise.

He wondered what all got reported back to the Order about him these days, if they had surveillance on the infirmary, and if Tain was thinking on him with disgust already.

A moment of anger seized him. If Tain thought so of him, he had no one to blame but himself. It was his “tactical decision” that had gotten Garak unto this mess, a simple “no” on his part, or even stating that he didn't care what Garak did, and this never would have happened. Or even-

Garak breathed. Counted. Centered himself.

Allowing such thoughts to fester would only worsen his chances of no longer being exiled. No use in bitterness over the past. He had enough to deal with- and it was almost more than he could handle.

Ideally, when he exited the turbo lift, no one who may be watching noticed anything was amiss. Aside from him perhaps seeming tired. A particularly kind person might’ve asked, “late night?” he imagined, if the corridor to his quarters was not silent save for his own footsteps.

The difference between the temperature in his quarters and the rest of the station was such that opening the door felt like a wall of fire coming to meet him. He had limited the impulse to tamper with the environmental controls in previous years- but when he felt his out of season mating cycle coming on, well. It became necessary. And when it ended abruptly, he hadn't the sternness to turn it back down.

A shudder went through him at the thought of how necessary it’d become if this wasn’t dealt with.

That wouldn’t happen. He would make a plan of his own if this fell through.

---

Julian summoned him to his office a week later, still in the late hours when Garak had first gotten caught. He phrased it as “a follow up for your implant, to set my mind at ease”.

Garak had (painfully) skipped their lunch that week, so this would be the first time seeing him since that night.

The corridors were just as empty as they’d been last time. It wasn’t quite as late as it had been then, but even Quark’s was closed.

Julian was sitting in his office. When Garak closed the door behind him, he immediately began fiddling with a small device next to him, and sat it down on his desk once he was satisfied.

“A signal jammer? Why, doctor, I’d think having recordings of your patients in general was a major ethical violation.”

“It’s not for me. But you know that.” Garak did- he knew that Odo and the good doctor had come into rather major disagreement over the former’s desire to install recording equipment in the infirmary.

Julian also had a pad of paper and a pen sitting on his desk. Off Garak’s look, he said, “You can’t hack paper. I assume you’d prefer this is kept… relatively off the record.”

A correct, though complicated assumption. All of this was already “on the record”- logs of doors being opened and turbolifts being used, security camera footage (Garak was reasonably sure he’d avoided that until he got caught last time, but hadn’t bothered after that), and so on. Julian had provided some cover by having his communication obscure the nature of his late night visits, but Garak felt somewhat doubtful he would be able to keep it that way- no matter how much he wished it, that the only evidence in the end would be memory.

“First. Are you certain you’re pregnant?”

Garak glared at him. “Do you think I’d try to steal from the infirmary on a suspicion?”

“I need to know where we’re at, Garak, and that includes asking questions you may find stupid. How did you find out? How long ago do you think this happened?”

Garak looked down to his hand, which had located a loose thread in the chair upholstery and was spinning it between his fingers, feeling the slubbed texture. “It happened a little over a month ago. There were some… unexpected behavioral changes, and certain biological processes didn’t quite happen as expected since.”

“I would prefer specifics, if you can.” Garak’s eyes slowly met his. Julian held up a hand.

“I did say if you can. I don’t doubt you’re certain based on the information you have, but I’m not familiar with this area of Cardassian healthcare, and with any patient I’d rule out any chance of false positives before proceeding.”

“How can you rule out a false positive if you don’t know?”

Julian tapped his pen against his desk. “Why do you think I waited a week before asking you to come for a preliminary appointment?”

The knowledge that Julian already likely knew specifics of why Garak might be reticent to be detailed made him no less embarrassed. Let him put the pieces together, if he knew so much. “I've had an increased need to be warm, a dramatically increased appetite followed by a low one, sluggishness, worsened mood, and pheromone changes.”

“You can sense your own pheromone changes?” Julian asked as he scribbled notes.

“You can smell when you sweat, can’t you?” Garak replied. “Among other… things, the latter in particular makes me quite certain of what’s going on.”

Julian opened a desk drawer- how clever of him, Garak thought irritably, keeping things out of sight until he needed them- and brought out two sets of a swab and a container. “If you don’t mind.”

Garak tilted his head to the side, allowing Julian to rub each swab over his jaw glands. “Out of curiosity- how do you plan to test those if this is “off the record”?” he asked, distracting himself from his increased heartbeat at having to adopt the posture.

“I’ll say I’m testing the equipment. It doesn’t get logged in patient records, so anyone you’re worried about wouldn’t immediately think to look there, it’s a separate indexing system, and I schedule tests on a regular basis. I can claim that I think there was an error and retest within a few days if that makes you feel better- bury the data somewhat.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary.”

Julian put the swabs away. “Are there any particular medical concerns you have?”

“Other than the obvious?” Garak had managed to tear the thread out by now, and his spinning was making it twist into a little ball. He dropped it.

Julian looked at him, trying to be compassionate- Garak hated it. And he hated that he was aware the reaction wasn’t founded on anything he had actually done to offend Garak, not really. It was evidence to Garak’s- problem.

“I don’t want to be pregnant. That’s all.”

Julian nodded. “I understand. There’s a few more questions I’d like to ask, if you would.”

Garak leaned back in the chair with a sigh.

#ds9 #Garashir fic #garashir #star trek deep space 9 #cipher talk #My writing #Fic: Bite the hand that starves you #I'm gonna try to get the second chapter up later today

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holdmyhopeinyourhands · 1 year

Note

Makhy! I had brain surgery on December 1 2022 and my surgeon kind of flopped (bless him, he’s a good guy) so I was in a medically induced coma for like a 3 weeks and then in icu for another two weeks. I’m only starting to recover fully. I can type now so that’s good.

Listen I dont know how to start but what the fuck you mean to say Argentina won the fucking world cup? Like that really happened???? Holy shet? I was confined in the hospital since November and just waiting for surgery. I watched these bitches lose to saudi arabia. I really thought they were fucking done! I also watched the mexico match and they were dogshit. That was the last match I watched. I missed the poland match because my doctors wanted me to rest and be calm/positive before opening my skull. Based on those two matches, I really never thought Argentina would go beyond r16. I promise I let jesus take the wheel. I gave up and has already accepted defeat. I so accepted defeat that when I woke up from coma, the results of the world cup was not even on my mind. It’s like Messi’s first season in PSG, I conditioned my brain to pretend it did not happen. So I was not thinking of it at all. Like I forgot about it. Totally. I also decided to stay away from social media and just focus on my recovery and therapy. Until this fucking morning when I thought “let me scroll through tumblr” to practice my thumb dexterity/motion and I saw fcking photos of Messi kissing the fucking world cup??? When I tell you I froze and screamed like I was hit by a lightning! I literally screamed like what the fuck? The nurses had to run sprinting to my room because the machine attached to my chest started going crazy. Like my blood pressure was through the roof because I could not cope! Messi was wearing a see-through robe???? It was fucking 3-3???? Mbappe scored a hattrick???? Messi scored a fucking brace??? Argentina almost choked??? It went to penalties???? The keeper saved 2 pens??? Lloris the spurs man saved nothing??? Messi was carried around???? Holy shettt mahky!

Messi won the golden ball??? Mbappe won golden boot with Messi in 2nd place??? Messi played like he was not an aging father of 3???? Lautaro Martinez was Higuain??? Kun celebrated like he was still an active player??? The muchachos song??? The whole of Argentina gathered in Buenos Aires??? There was a parade with 5 million people??? Messi almost got taken out by a street wire while on the bus???? What the fuck Makhy!?!!!! I dont know where to fucking start!!!!????! There’s so many information and videos and tweets. I dont fucking know what to do.

Ronaldo fucking lost lmao! We fucking won lmao! I want to see and read ronaldo fans crying! I want it all! Ronaldo is now playing in saudi????? It’s like I missed a whole life!!!! I am so happy but also so stunned to fully comprehend this happiness like I dont know how to express it I feel like I need to scream! Messi won the fucking world cup the fucking 5 foot something goofy man!

I am so glad you woke up fron your coma and are recovering well darling. That's such a relief to hear and.... yeah, your boys really went and done that. Can't believe you woke to the craziest time line bestie like wow.

Couldn't help but grin from ear to ear reading this. Felt like I was experiencing joy by proxy😭.

Welcome back babe and congrats to your boys and especially messi❤❤❤

#football #Argentina nt #lionel messi #world cup 2022 #lovely ask #lovely anon #ask #anon #football ask #wishing you happiness #safety #health #and joy darling

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hannah-the-small · 1 year

Text

“Was the haircut necessary?”

“Yes.”

“You know if you have another episode it’ll grow again, its easier to leave i-”

“I want it short.”

“Very well your highness. The doctors have given you the all clear physically, but you’re still weak so have insisted bedrest for at LEAST twelve days. We’ll be informing Alexander and his servants of this so don’t try and weasel out of it.”

“What about three days?”

“Its not a negotiation James. You’ve gone through a massive amount of strain and your body needs to recover if you’re to be in any condition to care for yourself or your child. Twelve days minimum. I’m sure you’ll find some hobbies you can do from the bed.”

“....”

“On top of this, while physically on the mend your mental status is still a concern. The Queen is content with assigning Doctor Cizko as your doctor for this, we’ll be sure to inform Alexander of your condition so no trying to squirm out of appointments.”

“I mean I asked him....”

“Yes, but you were also a lot less stubborn at the time due to being in great pain and as such were more likely to ask for help.”

“You’re talking to me like I’m a child.”

“I’m talking to you as I would my Queen, she’s just as stubborn as you. James your health will not get better unless you accept the help of others. You’ve tried to do this alone for far too long and its a miracle you’re still with us. Do this for Hannah, for Alexander, your family... and yourself. Asking for help is not causing problems for those you love.”

“You are far stronger than your father lead you to believe. But even the strong need help sometimes. There is no shame in this. We will take you home, you need to rest and follow your doctors orders. Your mother will visit you later this week.”

“Where is she?”

“She’s currently dealing with Brutus and will need a stand in Captain of the guard to be selected until she finds a new one. As soon as she has that settled she will check up on you. Now try and accept the help offered, and if you need it, ask for it.”

“... I..... I’ll try.”

#JamestheInventor #TirritustheAdviser #xxlordalexanderxx #deviousmxnds #AlexanderxJames

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peppermintquartz · 1 year

Text

Confession

Post Playroom!verse, G

Regal, Finn, Joe

Finn comes in armed with a huge but tasteful bouquet of pale lilac and pink flowers that he sets on a chair.

"Oh, Sir. It's so good to see you," he exclaims, hurrying to the hospital bed to hug William Regal gingerly around the shoulders. He sits on the edge of the bed and holds his mentor's cheek in his right hand. "When I heard the news, I flew over immediately. What did the doctors say?"

William leans his cheek into Finn's touch and then turns his head to kiss the heart of the younger man's palm. "I'm fine, dear boy. Not the first time I've been attacked by someone I trusted. The doctors tell me I'll recover in a few weeks. with proper rest."

"I'm glad." Finn studies the older man's face, a slight crease in his brow, as if to read William's mind. "Who was it?"

"It's alright, my dear. I've someone to deal with them already." William smiles, immensely comforted by Finn's presence.

It's a shame that his new protege prefers instant gratification over long-term development, but that' how it was with some people. Not everyone can be a Finn Balor.

He caresses Finn's jaw with his good hand, even though he's not fond of the beard, and then lies back against his pillows to ease the strain in his back, which is still badly bruised. Both of his legs are broken and, at his age, it will be difficult to recover fully. Thankfully, the perpetrator did not complete the job running him over a second time, not that the first hit did not already almost kill him.

To distract Finn from thoughts of vengeance, he asks, "Who came along with you? Seth? Tyler?"

"No, I asked Joe." Finn stands and goes to the door of the private ward.

Joe comes in shortly and makes a face at the flowers being left on a chair. "The least you can do is to put them in a jug."

"I wasn't thinking about the flowers," Finn retorts, though he obediently picks up the bouquet and heads for the bathroom to look for a water container.

Joe stands at the foot of the bed to look at William. His expression is inscrutable. "I'm glad you're doing better."

So much like his father. William glances at the empty chair on the right. "Thank you, Joe. Come, sit next to the bed. Easier to chat that way."

Finn returns and sets the bouquet - all stuck in a jug - on the nightstand. "Is there anything you'd like, Sir?" he asks, falling back on old patterns. It's clear he's upset by the sight of William injured and confined to a hospital bed.

"I'd like some lemon and blueberry scones, darling. There's some good ones in a shop down the street. And pop by Boots for some shea butter hand cream."

Finn smiles and kisses William on the forehead. "I'll be back in a jiffy."

The deliberate attempt to sound like an Englishman amuses William. "Go raibh maith agat, dear boy."

Joe watches the exchange and waits for the door to shut before he speaks. "Was it the new boy?"

"Like I said, I have people dealing with them." Regal turns his head stiffly to look at Joe. There's a softness and a warmth about his features that didn't use to be there a decade ago. "I'm glad to see you and Finn still together, Joe."

"For a given value."

"For a given value." The older man pauses, and then says, "Do you know why I sent Finn out on a simple errand?"

"You have something to tell me."

"This little incident reminds me that I still owe too much to too many people. And one of the people I owe is you."

Joe studies Regal. He has never liked the man, though he respects him for what he's achieved and admires - grudgingly - his methods in managing the vast network of informants and killers on the Grapevine. After a while, he asks, "What do you owe me?"

"An apology." Regal exhales deeply and his lined face creases with pain. "I knew your father. He was good at his job. Not on the same level as you, but Tagata Siva was still a force to fear."

"I've not heard you speak of him," Joe says, though his heart clenches briefly at his father's nickname. Dancer. Because he loved Joe's mother, who was a dancer when they met.

Regal closes his eyes and presses his lips together. "I... did not dare. Because it was partly my fault he was killed."

Joe does not comment.

"I knew there was a hit on him. I could have warned him. But... Business was business." Regal sighs and opens his eyes, which are clear. "I thought they would take him out when he was on a job, not when he was with his children."

For a brief moment Joe thinks about smothering Regal, but the latter is merely an old man now. An old man who's just been run over by a car, and someone who means a great deal to Finn.

"Business is business, after all," Joe replies.

With a small curl on his lips, Regal says, "I won't blame you if you do kill me."

"What would be the point now?" Joe chuckles quietly. "If I count the number of parents I've killed... Besides, if he didn't die, I wouldn't have become who I am now. Nor would I have the people I have now."

The older man smiles at Joe. "That's very magnanimous. Thank you."

"Nah, you're still an evil motherfucker." Joe grins. "If not for you, that Irish bastard would be a lot less of an ass."

"I thought you like that ass."

Joe snorts. "Only what I get to do to it."

The door to the ward opens and Finn walks in with a paper bag. He frowns at them quizzically when both Joe and Regal start laughing at the same time. "Do I wanna know?"

#finn's playroom #finnregal #finnjoe #for the uninitiated #finn used to be regal's boy

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drinksumtea-blog · 1 year

Text

A Dreadful Week

By: Aravellah Cervantes

Weak body. Redness of the skin. Vomit. Rashes. One of the many fever-related symptoms I never thought I'd encounter during high school. How would you imagine if you found out you only had a count of 44 platelets left in your body, but you survived? Every time the word 'dengue' appears, it takes me back to the past, still vivid in my mind. Dengue, the fever that made me dread whenever I stopped by the hospital and that I desired would never return.

I recalled that it was July, and the weather was sunny with a mix of chilly air caused by recent rain. A typical day at school except for the afternoon, when a headache suddenly struck me. My mother initially thought it was just an ordinary headache that could be treated with rest and medication. After one day of observation, the headache remained constant, making me significantly weaker and tired, and my temperature remained at 38 °C, and Mom brought me to the hospital. The doctor initially suspected dengue because most patients handled at that time were suffering from the virus. Even the ward where I was confined had all dengue virus patients, with two teenagers in the intensive-care unit (ICU).

According to the World Health Organization (WHO), Dengue is a viral infection transmitted to humans through the bite of infected mosquitoes. The primary vectors that transmit the disease are Aedes aegypti mosquitoes and, to a lesser extent, Ae. albopictus. Dengue commonly appears in tropical and subtropical climates, mostly in urban and semi-urban areas. Sometimes it is hard to believe how a tiny insect like a mosquito leeching off human blood could have a tremendous effect on the body.

According to data from the governor's office, there were 9,392 annual dengue cases in the province of Iloilo in 2016. It was designated as the third year in the three-year cycle of the dengue upsurge. The doctor informed my mother that I only have 44 platelets in my body, which means that I'll be prone to bleeding, which could be fatal. Afterward, he advised me to refrain from brushing my teeth and to avoid foods with hues (such as brown and red) that may be mistaken for blood when I have my discharge. I'm still relieved that I did not have a blood transfusion, as this is something I never wanted to undergo.

Several symptoms appeared during my stay, including headaches, rashes, muscle pain, and lethargy. To monitor me, the nurses had to draw blood every six hours. While fighting dengue, I also had a menstrual period and a potassium deficiency, which was undesirable. I've lost my appetite; the soft meal my mother buys for me, and even the hospital ration, aren't helping because I vomit between every bite. I depended primarily on the dextrose drip. My mother was very concerned about me; all I could do was lie in bed, hoping and praying that I would recover quickly. It was my first time experiencing that phenomenon, and maybe the fear and anxiety of thinking that I may be on the verge of life added to my burden. It was pretty frightening because, to this day, there is no cure, only prevention, and alternatives. The doctor advised that because a patient suffering from dengue fever would lose appetite and vomit frequently, especially when ingesting, it is best to drink plenty of fluids to prevent dehydration.

I was stressed out every day during my stay, a depressing situation. I can see why some people despise staying much longer. In my case, I had to spend time in the hospital for around ten days due to some circumstances, but I surmounted them all. My body also underwent significant changes. When I finally returned home, it took me at least three days to regain my strength, particularly in my legs, which had been unable to walk due to muscle pain and discomfort impacted by dengue. According to WHO, "Recovery from infection is believed to provide lifelong immunity against that serotype. However, cross-immunity to the other serotypes after recovery is only partial and temporary. Subsequent infections (secondary infection) by other serotypes increase the risk of developing severe dengue" (Dengue and Severe Dengue, 2022). Although I had acquired antibodies from dengue, I am still prone to three more dengue viruses. The more times the virus appears in a person's body, the more dangerous its effect is on the body. Indeed, it was a tough battle.

Dengue fever is still a significant health concern and a threat to humanity. It is globally widespread and appears as a disease outbreak in almost all tropical regions at reasonable times and locations. Getting dengue fever wasn't what I had hoped for during my first two months of high school, but it changed my life. It made me more aware of my surroundings and made me take extra care of my body because I never know what lies ahead. Dengue fever may be different for some people than it was for me, but it is a fever that I would avoid for the entirety of my life. It took a toll on my physical, emotional, and mental health. It gave me a new perspective and made me realize that this virus is no small matter, especially since there remains no cure.

______________________________________________________________

REFERENCES:

Balita Halin Sa Kapitolyo. (2022, March 3). Gov. Arthur Defensor Jr. issued Executive Order No. 190 placing the entire province of Iloilo under Alert Level 5 Kontra Dengue. https://www.facebook.com/100064830275341/posts/pfbid023CsR84X9K9QXxLXfQrZKXZd3rTb6AY4YNjnvvms7CRTgvXVJYiqPhENwZcSWMeQMl/?mibextid=cr9u03

Dengue and severe dengue. (2022, February 14). https://www.who.int/news-room/fact-sheets/detail/dengue-and-severe-dengue

#dengue #denguefever #mosquito #health #academic #awareness

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icedwatersupremacy · 1 year

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January 1905 Dear Carrie, I hate to inform you that Arthur fell ill with pneumonia about a week ago, and things have only gotten worse. In all honesty, I expected Arthur to be the one to become ill first, as he doesn’t fare well when it comes to illnesses, and he was the one going out into the village weekly. I’ve been tending to him incessantly and nursing him back to health, with Matilda’s assistance. I was so worried for him, Carrie — if anything happened to him, I’d be beside myself. He’s been bedridden all week, and only now is he starting to improve. He still has a horrid cough and an exceptional amount of lethargy, but he can sit up to drink his soup, thank goodness. Dr Mullins has said that he should recover, even if it takes a while, which is a relief.

You should know I’ve been praying that despite how much time I’ve spent nursing Arthur, I didn’t want the pneumonia to leave his room. I suppose I was too optimistic, because I’ve succumbed to the illness as well. It’s a dreadful beast, I’m afraid. I first noticed something was off when I had a headache yesterday, but I didn’t chalk it up to anything. At most, I assumed it was because John and Dorothy were being particularly loud. Then, when I woke up this morning, I was too weak to leave my bed and I felt lightheaded. David has been an absolute darling, and has fed the children and fetched the doctor. He’s even writing this letter for me, because I don’t have it in me to do so. Sometimes, he’s just the sweetest!

According to the doctor, John has pneumonia as well. Everyone else is fine, but he seems to be taking it worse than both me and Arthur. The worst part is that I want to be there, looking after him, but I’m too unwell. David says I must look after myself first, but I can’t help but be worried about my children. That’s natural, isn’t it? After all, it would be more troubling if I didn’t worry at all.

In all, I’m sorry that I have no good news to report. I expect that you’ll respond with pleasant stories to cheer me up, so I have something to read while I rest up. It’s dreadfully boring, being inside all day, but I’ll have to make do, I suppose. It’s more productive for the entire family if I were to stay in bed than to get in the way while trying to help. All I can do is hope David and Matilda can look after the house on their own, which is going to be a tall order, but I have faith that they can do it. I guess I have to have faith in them, otherwise I’ll be in distress every second that I’m ill. Anyway, that’s enough complaining from me for one day.

Yours sincerely, Laura

#simblr #the sims #the sims 4 #ts4 #ts4 decades challenge #decades challenge #gen 1 #ts4 story #ts4 historical #ts4 legacy #Murdock 1900s #Murdock legacy #winter 1905 #disease tw #death tw

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hanajozo · 2 years

Text

"Finding Purpose" Chapter 4

Gojo Satoru x Reader Fanfic

Gojo wore a grim expression on his face as he saw you on Shoko’s infirmary bed. You were covered in gashes, cuts, bruises, broken bones, and most notably– you were missing your right eye and part of your right leg. It was like he was looking at a shell of a person, the only sign of life being that you were still barely breathing. The upper part of your face where your one eye was missing was also covered in burns as well, in addition to more punctures and cuts. Shoko said she wasn’t sure if you were going to make it, but she was going to try her damned hardest by working constantly around the clock for days to try and save you. You were barely there, clinging on by the thinnest and most fragile of threads.

[One week later]

It took almost a week of constant and unrelenting effort to get you into a stable enough state to get your body to the point where it would be stable enough so that Shoko didn’t have to run herself ragged with using up her cursed technique constantly. Shoko was still watching you whenever she was in the infirmary, but you were stable enough to be left resting without constant attention. But one thing worried Shoko, you hadn’t woken up yet. Granted she knows the shape you ended up in when you initially were teleported to her infirmary in, but it was worrisome nonetheless.

Shoko sighed, dragging the cigarette out of her lips as she reflected on the mystery patient in front of her.

Your cuts had stopped bleeding, though prominent scars from the repeated cuts remain covering both of your forearms and some scarring on the right side of your face remained as well. Your broken bones were fixed and bruises were gone. Your right eye was still gone, after all, Shoko couldn’t materialize it out of thin air. She could only fix what had already been damaged. The same goes for the lower part of your right leg, that was missing from the knee down. She could get a specially made prosthetic, that perhaps you could eventually move again as if it was your own, because she did notice the faintest traces of cursed energy while working on repairing your body. Shoko thought you could be taught to channel that bit of energy you had into the prosthetic to make it behave like a normal one would. Internal damage to any organs was also fixed. You were stable, physically, but Shoko perhaps the accident was too much of a mental toll on your brain.

The ring of a phone call brought Shoko out of the tired thoughts that had been occupying her brain the last week.

“Yes?” Shoko sighed exasperatedly.

“I-ieiri-san, is this a bad time?” A nervous Ijichi responded, as was evident in the unmistakable shake in his voice.

A chuckle escaped the doctor’s lips, “Ah Ijichi-san, it’s you. How can I be of service?”

“Principle Yaga wanted me to let you know that he wanted (y/n) to be transferred to one of the empty rooms on campus, once she was stable enough. To give her a more peaceful place to recover, without any unwanted visitors that might stop by the infirmary since it’s a place many people unfortunately have to frequent.” Ijichi informed the doctor.

Shoko nodded, “Alright. It just so happens she seems stable enough to recover without me hovering over her constantly, I was going to report it soon but it seems you both were ahead of me this time. She’s physically stable, though a bit weak. She hasn’t woken up yet, so I will still need to take time to check up on her and replace some dressings once in a while.”

“O-oh my goodness, that’s a relief. Thank you for your hard work Ieiri-san. I will let the Principal know right away to prepare a designated room.” Ijichi sighed with relief as he hung up.

Shoko leaned her head back against the wall, sharing that same feeling of relief as Ijichi as when he hung up the phone. You were mostly out of the woods.. mostly.

Later that day, you were transferred to your own room located in the faculty dorm wing of the school.

The routine that continued on for the next week was Shoko coming in once a day in the afternoon around her lunch break to check up on your condition. Not much happened during these check ins as you still weren’t awake, and your condition wasn’t worsening. You were stable, just sleeping.

One day that week though, the special prosthetic for your leg that Shoko ordered came in. So one day she fit it to your leg and left it on, so you wouldn’t feel the pain of a phantom limb for too long, as was evidenced by the pained expression that your face occasionally wore when she saw you. Your pained expressions nearly stopped immediately after the prosthetic was attached, which gave the doctor some momentary relief.

Coming up on two weeks since the incident, Shoko’s worry kept increasing steadily. You still weren’t awake. Her head sunk into her hands at her desk, she began to wonder if you would ever wake up.

[The next morning]

Your eye slowly opened and the panic started to settle in. You gasped for air, your throat as horse and dry as it’s ever been. The smallest groan of pain left your lips as you slowly but surely lifted yourself up from bed, seemingly every bone in your body letting out a crack as you sat up with your legs hanging over the edge of the bed. You look in front of you and catch sight of your reflection in the mirror that is propped up against the wall opposite of you.

“Oh…” a whisper of shock is all that you can muster from your sore throat.

You lift up your arms that are wrapped up in bandages to slowly unwrap them. Underneath the bandages were scars from healed gashes and cuts of varying sizes almost resembling tiger stripes covering almost every inch of your forearms. Your arms begin to tremble slightly as you reach for the bandages around your head and cover the right side of your face. Tenderly and slowly, you unwrap the bandages around your head with shaking fingers.

Your face would have scared you even more, if you hadn’t remembered going through the traumatic experience you had just gone through. You were sure you were a goner, if it wasn’t for the group of people that came to your rescue. So when a warped and scarred right upper side of your face greets you in the mirror, missing eye and all, all you could muster was to repeat that same shocked “Oh..” that left your lips when you first saw your bandaged up reflection.

You start to stand up to get a closer look of your face in the mirror when you notice your right leg. There was a prosthetic attached to it from the knee down. Still, you make the effort to stand up. You hobble to the mirror, legs weak from not having walked in who knows how long. But you notice the prosthetic doesn’t feel any different than walking on a normal leg, in fact, you almost didn’t notice it at all. It just felt that natural.

To steady yourself, you grab the sides of the body length mirror that’s propped up against the wall. With only the early morning light as your only light source, you get a closer look at your face as you lean in. It’s not a pretty sight, but you recognize that you’re going to have to come to terms with the fact that this is now your face. You sigh and back away from the mirror a couple of steps. You looked like hell. You were literally torn apart and scarred all over, but you were alive, you had to at least be thankful for that.

#gojo satoru #gojo #satoru #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #fanfic #ao3 #ao3fic #ao3 fanfic #ao3 author #x reader #reader insert

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briamichellewrites · 5 days

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2004. The media was quick to point out Bria’s chest. She was forced to put out a statement saying she had a full double mastectomy with implants because she was at risk of developing breast cancer. It started when she visited her doctor for a routine yearly physical. Since it was routine, she didn’t tell anyone about the appointment. Until she found out about her having a high risk of developing cancer. She talked about her options with Mike, Brad, and Renè who they talked to over a conference call.

It was her body. They would respect any decision she made. She decided to do the surgery after finding out more information about her options. The surgeon went over step by step the procedure to alleviate anxiety. She asked Brad and Mike to let the band know, just in case the worst happened during surgery. Was she sure? Yes.

Cancer. It was one of the most horrible things to be diagnosed with. They all hoped and prayed for her to be okay. She was anxious, so they helped distract her. Linsey helped her shop for new underwear to help her boost her self-confidence. It would take weeks for her to recover from the surgery. She was going up a half size, so she needed underwear that fit her new chest. The morning of the surgery, Linsey brought her to the hospital to check-in.

Before she went back, she hugged her and told her she would be there when she woke up. She then followed the nurses back to get prepped. The surgery took six hours to complete because they wanted to be careful about not making any mistakes. She was unable to feel anything because the anesthesia put her to sleep.

She was uncomfortable when she fully woke up. That was completely normal. It would take her a while to get used to her new chest. The nurses helped care for her the five days she was in the hospital. They helped her shower, get dressed, and exercise. She had drains attached to her, which needed to be changed and cleaned regularly. Both she and Linsey were taught how to do that. She was told to take it easy to prevent the stitches from tearing.

That meant no heavy lifting. She couldn’t even lift her cat. It also meant resting whenever she felt tired. She was given a prescription pain medication to take whenever she needed it. When she slept, she put a pillow under her breasts to give them a place to rest. The guys could not tell she had surgery. She looked as beautiful as always.

During a checkup with the oncologist, she learned the cancer cells were completely removed. She would need regular checkups to make sure they didn’t return. If the cancer returned, her options were chemotherapy or radiation depending on where the cancer was located and the staging. Now, the media was talking about her having a boob job. Renè put out a statement confirming the surgery. She did it because she was at risk of developing breast cancer.

The media who were mocking her were forced to apologize. Whether or not she changed her body was nobody’s business.

“It’s fucking disgusting to have attention on my body. I almost had cancer. But they don’t care about that. Anyway, I’m obsessing.”

“You have a right to be upset. It is disgusting. Thankfully, Renè knew how to handle it. How are you doing otherwise”, Mike asked.

“Well, I don’t feel like a truck ran over me anymore. So, that’s a plus.”

He laughed. For the past year, she was up and down with her moods. She was still learning how to communicate what she needed, instead of shutting everyone out for twenty-four to seventy-two hours. Have you heard from Bria? Should we go over and check on her? They were learning how to help her during an episode.

Listen to her and validate her feelings. Show her you’re not leaving her. instead of making promises. Even if they didn’t understand what she was going through. Sometimes she just needed to be in her studio working on music. Whether it was writing or recording music she came up with randomly in her head. It was a great way for her to get out all of her negative emotions. One of the best songs she wrote was given the working title of Growing Up. It was about her battle with mental health.

After being gone for months, Adrien and Matt were back home. Mike advised her to be honest with them, so she didn’t accidentally lead them on. What did she want from them? She didn’t know because she liked both of them. Then, she should be honest about that. Even if it hurt them, they would appreciate her being honest. It was a lot better than lying.

Both Matt and Adrien were thankful for her being open with them. She was not dating them, so she could go out with other guys. They were not going to compete for her. If she chose one of them, they would love that! But if she chose someone else, they would be happy for her.

She was beautiful and could attract almost any guy. Matt jokingly asked her if anyone else had approached her. No, it was just him and Adrien. He was surprised by that because he thought she would have more guys wanting her phone number. She jokingly called him Mister Boston, and he laughed and corrected her. He was actually from Cambridge. Was there a difference?

Cambridge was fifteen minutes from Boston. That was like saying Santa Monica wasn’t LA. It was basically the same thing. He laughed. Has she ever been to Boston? She did a couple of times while on tour but she wanted to go back for the history. He thought she would have a lot of fun then because it had a lot of history! Maybe she would go during the winter. He advised going when it was warmer. Unless she was comfortable walking around in the snow and cold.

It was beautiful in the spring and summer. She would take his word on that. How was her trip to Dubai? It was so awesome! Did she go by herself? No, she went with her three friends. They stayed for a week and a half. She invited anyone who wanted to come. A few of her friends declined because they would be drinking. She was talking about having a ski and snowboarding vacation.

That way, everyone could come. Why didn’t they want to go to Dubai? Two of her friends were recovering alcoholics. The other two didn’t drink because of their religious beliefs. They didn’t want to be around that much alcohol. They didn’t spend the entire time drinking. She got out the pictures she took and showed them to him while pointing out who was who. He pointed out Jason and Mike because they looked like they were related.

“Jason is Mike’s younger brother. Jason is two or three years younger. He and I went to a club. That was so much fun. We didn’t get back until like four in the morning.”

It looked like a very fun trip! Would she go back? Yes, in the future. Maybe she would visit other countries in the Middle East, but only if it was safe. She wanted to see the animals in Africa. Maybe she would go to Abu Dhabi or Egypt. It just depended on where she felt like going. Could he come too? Fuck yeah! He laughed and then thanked her.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon

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