#virginia mak

[roosterforme]

At Least Twice a Day (Rooster x Reader)

Part of The What If Collection of blurbs for Roo and Baby Girl. My masterlist. Banner by @mak-32

Warnings: language, mentions of smut, mention of injury

You loved having Goose and Carole stay with you and Bradley. His mom always taught you a new recipe, and you could tell how happy it made Bradley to spend time with them. Especially Goose. 

The guys were out walking Tramp after dinner, and you were helping Carole make a cake in your kitchen as you kept pausing to look at your engagement ring which used to be hers. 

"He'll take good care of you," Carole mused out loud as she cracked some eggs. "Not that you can't take care of yourself, of course. But he'll give you anything you need or want. That's just the way he loves you."

Her words made you feel gooey. "That's the way I love him, too."

Your future mother-in-law's beaming smile left you wishing Bradley would return from his walk so you could touch him. You just always wanted to be touching him. "Chocolate frosting?" Carole asked, interrupting your thoughts. 

"Yes. As long as Goose likes that."

She laughed and tossed her head back. "Goose has never meet a food he won't eat."

"Sounds exactly like Bradley."

Once the pretty cake was cooling and the frosting was ready to go on it, the front door opened, and Tramp bounded in ahead of the guys. "It smells good in here," Bradley murmured as he made a beeline to give you a hug. He kissed the top of your head as you snuggled your cheek against him. "Well this is a warm welcome."

"I missed you a little bit," you whispered. You made sure Carole and Goose looked distracted as you said, "You told me you'd make some more time for me all week. I want it real bad." You sent him a little pout just to reinforce things. It was hard to be as intimate as you liked when his parents were visiting.

His response sounded a little stern. "I know. I've been tired. And a little preoccupied. Don't act like you aren't getting it, Baby Girl." You pressed your lips together, because he'd actually taken the time to go down on you this morning before he got dressed. For almost thirty minutes. And it had been really good. "Now what smells so delicious?"

You patted his belly; he was still trying to get in shape again after his horrific accident during his last deployment a few months ago. "I don't think you should eat too much cake, okay. You told me to make sure you were making healthy food choices."

Bradley sighed and said, "If you make it, I'm going to want to eat it." He sounded a little snippy, and you knew it was because he loved his mom's recipes, but you'd stand firm.

"Just one small piece. I'm going to ice the cake, and we can all eat it tomorrow before your parents fly home to Virginia."

"Fine."

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

Bradley knew you were probably a tiny bit annoyed with him when you excused yourself early to take a shower and get ready for bed. But the cake looked so good, and he wanted to eat it even though he did tell you not to let him have too many sweets. His parents were on the couch watching a movie together when he changed into his gym clothes as he heard you get into the shower. Since he had his weight bench in the garage now, he should be using it every day. 

When he walked into the living room on his way to the kitchen to make a protein shake, he felt two pairs of eyes on him. "What?" he asked, turning toward the couch. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Well..." Carole began, already cluing Bradley in to the fact that this would be an irritating conversation. "We couldn't help but notice that you got a little bit snippy with your fiancée earlier."

"Oh here we go," he muttered in response, running his hand through his hair. "How much did you hear?"

They shared a look before Carole asked, "Are you sure you're pleasing her in the bedroom?"

He froze in place and barked out an annoyed laugh. "We are not having this conversation. Absolutely not."

His dad put a hand on his mom's shoulder, but that didn't stop her. "Oh, yes, we are. We have always been very open about sex, Bradley. It's nothing to be ashamed of!"

Bradley looked at her bright blue eyes before glancing at his dad. It wasn't that he was embarrassed to talk about sex with his parents even though he was well into his thirties, it was more that he wasn't sure how to defend himself right now. "This conversation is not necessary. She was being dramatic."

Carole scoffed in response. "It's not dramatic when you're letting your partner know you need something, Bradley. She's going to be your wife!"

"Yeah," Bradley barked. "And she's already getting it at least twice a day most days!"

Goose choked on his sip of tea. 

"Oh," Carole said softly, but she looked a lot calmer now as Bradley shook his head. "Well, that's good."

"Mmhmm," he hummed sarcastically with his hands planted on his hips. "I am fucking my fiancée regularly. She's plenty satisfied. She just likes being a brat. But thank you for your concern." He turned toward the kitchen, nearly forgetting what he was planning on doing in the first place. "Jesus," he grumbled as he grabbed his protein powder. "The fucking audacity."

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

When you woke up the next morning, Bradley was still sound asleep, so you made your way to the kitchen to start breakfast for the four of you. The coffee was brewing, and you were collecting ingredients for some pancake batter when you froze. Half of the cake was gone. "What the fuck?" you gasped, and that's when you saw Bradley walk in. "You ate the cake."

He frowned at you. "No, I didn't."

"You did!" you accused. "It's half eaten! You ate it out of spite!"

Bradley raised one eyebrow and asked, "Are you serious right now?"

You spun when you heard Goose clear his throat, and you turned to see that Carole couldn't even look you in the eye for some reason. "Good morning," she said as she reached for a mug. "Goose has something he needs to tell you."

"I ate the cake," he said. "It was delicious. I had one piece, and then I couldn't stop eating it. And then the next thing I knew, half of it was gone."

"Oh," you replied softly. "Well, that's okay. Why don't we just finish the cake for breakfast?"

"That sounds lovely," Carole replied, barely meeting your eyes. 

You took a deep breath and turned toward Bradley. "I'm sorry, Roo. You can have a much cake as you want, I shouldn't have told you not to eat it."

He leaned in closer and whispered, "I'll have a little slice, Sweetheart. And I'm sorry I haven't been as attentive this week as I usually am. If you want me to fuck you nearly constantly, you know I will."

"Shhh," you hissed. "Your mom is already barely looking at me right now!"

Bradley laughed as his parents took the cake and coffee into the dining room. "That's because I told her you're a needy little thing who wants me balls deep inside her all the time."

"You did what?!"

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 390. brb x oc

a/n: we're nearing the end ;~; aaaa(comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/

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@lyn-js

-

Beatrice chewed the sandwich as she sits next to Rooster,who was now lying on his back with his hands behind his back, completely relaxed in this little clearing, the water rippling in the distance, “This is so nice.”

Rooster nodded in agreement, his gaze fixed on the canopy of trees above as he enjoyed the peaceful moment with Beatrice. "Yeah, it really is," he replied, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, "Sometimes, it's the simple things in life that bring us the most joy."

Beatrice smiled back at Rooster, she leaned over to place a gentle kiss on his cheek before settling back against the blanket, feeling the warmth of the sun on her skin. Albeit it was still fall, it was warm enough for her to wear a dress.

"I couldn't agree more," she murmured, her voice soft, "...I like Virginia.”

‘Yeah?”

‘I mean, not only is it where you are from,” she smiles “But…I like it here, I’ve never visited before meeting you.”

"I'm glad you like it here, Bea," he replied warmly, his voice filled with sincerity, "Virginia holds a special place in my heart, and knowing that you enjoy it too...well, it just makes it even more special."

Beatrice smiled at Rooster, her eyes shining with affection as she squeezed his hand gently. "I can see why," she murmured softly, "It's such a beautiful state, with so much history and charm. And being here with you just makes it all the more magical."

Rooster's heart swelled with love for the woman beside him, feeling grateful for the opportunity to share his home with her. He leaned in to press a tender kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering against her skin as he whispered softly, "You make everything more magical, Bea."

Beatrice blushed at Rooster's words, her cheeks flushing pink as she met his gaze with a shy smile. "You're too sweet, Roos," she replied softly, her voice filled with warmth, "But it's true. Being with you...it's like being in a fairy tale."

Rooster chuckled, feeling a rush of happiness wash over him at Beatrice's words. He brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face, his touch gentle and tender. "Well, if this is a fairy tale, then you're definitely my princess.’

"And you're my knight in shining armor," she shot back, her voice filled with laughter, "Rescuing me from the monotony of everyday life."

“Monotony?Gorgeous.” he scoffs “Your life wasn’t monotone.”

She gives him a look.

“...it wasn’t that monotone.” he smirks “You were just dealing with your own stuff,baby.”

Beatrice rolled her eyes playfully at Rooster's teasing, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Fine, maybe it wasn't all monotone," she conceded with a chuckle, "But you did bring some excitement into my life, that's for sure."

"Well, I'm glad I could be of service," he replied with a wink, "And I'll make sure to keep the excitement coming."

Beatrice laughed, squeezing Rooster's hand gently as she leaned in to press a soft kiss to his lips. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you," she murmured against his lips.”You are great at it Lt.Commander.”

His pupils enlarged immediately and he smirked, “I do try.” he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear “...coming here wasn’t so bad.”

“It wasn’t.”

“...kinda crazy.” he chuckled, rubbing her bare thigh as he lies back down, “...I didn’t wanted to come here and…I ended up coming anyway.”

"Yeah, it's funny how life works out sometimes," she agreed softly, her voice filled with nostalgia, "But I'm grateful that we ended up here together."

Rooster nodded in agreement, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on Beatrice's arm as he gazed up at the sky. "Me too," he murmured, "Thanks, by the way.”

“For?”

“Giving me the push to come here.” he huffs softly “...I feel better…before we go though…can we visit my parents?”

She smiles softly, she had a feeling he’d ask that. She leans on a hand, tilting her head at him, “...honey, you don’t have to ask me, you know I don’t mind going to the cemetery with you.” she says, rubbing his cheek “If you want, we sure can go…we’ll leave tomorrow anyway, I don’t see why not.”

And he lets out a breath he had no idea why he was holding, “...thanks,gorgeous.I know, I just want to ask anyway.” he purses his lips “Tell them the news and all that,you know.”

“Of course I know.” she smiles, “They’ll be proud to hear about your promotion,Roos. You know that.”

Rooster smiled gratefully at Beatrice, he leaned in to press a tender kiss to her lips, his lips lingering against hers as he whispered softly, "Thank you, Bea. You always know just what to say."

Beatrice returned Rooster's kiss with equal tenderness,he cupped his face in her hands, her fingers tracing the contours of his jaw as she looked into his eyes.

"You don't have to thank me, Roos," she replied softly, her voice filled with warmth, "I'll always be here for you, no matter what. And if visiting your parents will bring you peace, then I'm always all for it."

After a while, Beatrice broke the silence, her voice soft and tentative. "Roos," she began, her voice tinged with curiosity, "Can I ask you something?"

Rooster looked down at Beatrice, his gaze filled with warmth and affection as he nodded. "Of course, gorgeous," he replied, "You can ask me anything."

Beatrice took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest as she gathered her thoughts. "I was just wondering...would…it–I don’t know, be odd-hah.” she clears her throat “To…maybe…get a place here?”

He blinks at her, slowly pushing himself on his elbows, “...what?”

“In the future! N-Not now!I mean–” she smiles “The kids might like that, the dogs too and…” she shrugs softly “I-If that’s okay,I mean.”

Rooster's eyes widened in surprise at Beatrice's question, his mind racing with thoughts of the future. He sat up slowly, his gaze never leaving Beatrice's face as he considered her words.

"A place here?" he repeated, his voice tinged with astonishment, "In Virginia?"

Beatrice nodded, her cheeks flushing pink as she met Rooster's gaze with a shy smile. "Yeah, I mean...if that's something you'd be open to," she replied softly, her voice filled with uncertainty, "I just thought...since you have roots here and all, it might be nice to have a place of our own. Like…we’d still have our house in California–I-I am I making sense?!!"

He reached out to take her hand in his, his fingers intertwining with hers as he met her gaze with a tender smile.

"Bea," he began softly, his voice filled with warmth, "You always know how to surprise me. And I mean that in the best possible way."

Beatrice smiled back at Rooster, her eyes shining with affection as she squeezed his hand gently. "I just…really?”

“Baby,yes. I mean,if it’s possible for us to have,maybe a vacation home here,why not?”

“...Oh.”

He smirks “Oh?”

“OhI,I mean…I just,I don’t want you to be overworked? I mean,I know we might have to move but…I just, you know–”

"Hey, listen," he said softly, his voice filled with reassurance, "I appreciate your concern, I really do. But...if having a place here is something that would make you happy, then it's worth it to me. And besides, it wouldn't be just for me, it would be for us. To have a place where we can come and relax, and make memories together."

“...oh.”

“You surprised?’

“I…” she shrugs “A little?I guess.”

Rooster chuckled softly at Beatrice's admission, a warm smile playing on his lips as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair away from her face. "Well, get used to it, gorgeous," he teased, "Because I have a feeling there will be many more surprises in our future."

"I can't wait," she murmured against his lips, smiling.

Rooster smiled against Beatrice's lips, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him in her presence. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as they shared a moment of pure bliss.

"To us," he whispered softly, his voice filled with warmth, "And to all the beautiful moments we'll share together."

Beatrice nodded in agreement, her heart swelling with love for the man beside her. "To us," 

–

Beatrice stood quietly as Rooster approached his parents' resting place, giving him the space he needed to grieve and pay his respects. She watched him from a distance, gently wringing her hands together.

As Rooster knelt beside the grave, Beatrice felt a wave of sadness wash over her. She wished she could take away his pain, but she knew that grief was something he had to face on his own.

After a while, Rooster looked back at her, then nodded forward, “Join me?”

Beatrice's heart clenched at the vulnerability in Rooster's eyes, but she nodded and stepped forward, closing the distance between them. She knelt beside him, feeling the weight of their shared sorrow pressing down on her chest.

Silently, they sat together, their hands intertwined as they gazed at the gravestones in front of them. The air was heavy with emotion, filled with the memories of the loved ones they had lost.

After a while, Rooster broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. "I think they are happy.” he smiles “About everything.”

“I think so too,Roos…how do you feel?”

Rooster took a deep breath, his gaze fixed on the gravestones as he tried to put his feelings into words. "I feel...sad," he admitted softly, "But also...grateful. And...hopeful, too. Hopeful for the future, for what's to come."

Rooster smiled at Beatrice, and he leaned in to press a tender kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering against her skin as he whispered softly, "Thank you, Bea. For being here with me."

Beatrice returned Rooster's kiss with equal tenderness, her heart swelling with love for the man beside her. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close as they shared a moment of quiet solace. “You are welcome,Roos.”

They sat together in silence for a while longer, lost in their thoughts as they processed their emotions. Eventually, Rooster stood up, offering Beatrice a hand to help her to her feet.

"Ready to go, gorgeous?" he asked softly, his voice filled with warmth.

Beatrice nodded, her eyes shining with affection as she took Rooster's hand in hers. "Yeah, if you are," she replied, “You sure you are okay?”

Rooster smiled reassuringly at Beatrice, his gaze soft and filled with gratitude. "I am," he replied sincerely, "Being here with you makes everything better. Thank you for coming with me."

Beatrice returned Rooster's smile, feeling a sense of relief wash over her at his words. She squeezed his hand gently as they turned to leave the cemetery behind.

When they reached the car, Rooster held the door open for Beatrice, his actions filled with tenderness and care. She climbed into the passenger seat, laughing softly at him

As Rooster got behind the wheel, Beatrice reached out to place a hand on his arm, offering him a reassuring squeeze. "Thank you for letting me be a part of this, Roos," she said softly, her voice filled with sincerity, "It means a lot to me."

Rooster glanced at Beatrice, his eyes shining with emotion as he reached out to cover her hand with his own. "You are part of my life, of course I’ll have you with me,gorgeous."

They shared a smile, a silent understanding passing between them as they drove back to the hotel. The weight of grief still hung heavy in the air, but somehow, they both felt lighter.

"It's been a tough day," Rooster murmured softly, his gaze fixed on thehorizon, "But I'm glad we came here. It feels like...closure, in a way."

Beatrice nodded in agreement, "I'm glad too," she replied softly, "It was important to pay our respects."

They sat together in companionable silence, lost in their thoughts as they watched the sky change colors. After a while, Rooster turned to Beatrice, his eyes soft with affection. "Hey, Bea," he began softly, "I've been thinking...about what you said earlier, about getting a place here."

Beatrice looked at Rooster, her curiosity piqued. "Yeah?" she prompted gently, "What about it?"

Rooster took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before speaking. "I think it's a great idea," he said earnestly, "Having a place here in Virginia...it feels right. Like a second home, you know?"

Beatrice's eyes lit up with excitement at Rooster's words, her heart pounding with anticipation. "You really think so?" she asked eagerly.

Rooster nodded, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Absolutely," he replied without hesitation, "...thank you, really.” it meant too much for him to even put in words, so all he did was cup her thick thigh in his hand, “...Thank you,Bea.”

[cecilysass]

Shine On (9/16)

Read on AO3 | Tagging @today-in-fic | Some slightly M content in this chapter

Chapter 9: The Cake

Farrs Corner, Virginia February 22, 2015 7:00 pm

Given the circumstances, she’s very calm. There are many reasons not to be calm right now. So many she couldn’t possibly begin to catalog them all. But when she and Mulder finish talking to Skinner—planning for an abrupt career decision she couldn’t have seen coming this morning—Scully feels strangely at peace. She simply asks to use the bathroom and walks upstairs to take a shower.

In Mulder’s bathroom—her old bathroom—she pauses when she catches a glimpse of her face in the mirror.

She looks a little tired, but her expression is serene. Her eyes are clear.

The decision to rejoin the F.B.I. felt simple. When Skinner asked her how sure she was, she told him she felt no doubt at all. Which is remarkable, given the years she’s invested at the hospital, and given the way her stint at the Bureau ended. But when she thinks about Jackson—about what needs to be done to protect him—it’s like the path ahead of her lights up.

She searches around for a towel. Mulder’s bathroom is decidedly less tidy than when she lived here. His electric razor and shaving cream are scattered haphazardly all over the counter rather than put up in the drawer. There is a box that once contained toothpaste that he inexplicably hasn’t bothered to throw out. What could be so hard about throwing it in the trash? Doesn’t it bother him?

Of course, it’s his choice. He can keep his bathroom as messy as he likes. It’s only him here.

She undresses and steps into the shower. It’s wide, with plenty of room, and a tiled ledge almost big enough to be a seat.

They were especially fond of this shower when they first moved to the house. That first sweltering summer here, when Mulder was spending hours installing the front gate, he would come in flushed and sticky. She would step into the shower with him, and he would hum his appreciation and run his hands up and down her soap-slick body.

He could manage to sit on the ledge in the corner and brace his hands precariously against the slippery walls, and she would perch astride his lap, her small body raising and lowering over his. The water streamed over her back, down the tips of her hair on to his chest, and his groans echoed off the tile. She would remark afterwards that one of them could easily slip and end up in the ER with an embarrassing concussion, but they never did.

At the time she moved out, they hadn’t shared the shower for a long time. She reaches out to touch the tile right behind the ledge, remembering.

What are you thinking? Her hand snaps back suddenly. Who knows what Jackson can see in her mind, even from another room? She shakes her head in horrified embarrassment. Jesus. She really needs to remember that possibility, to have more self discipline.

She isn’t used to having to police her thoughts and feelings. Her mind has been the one place she has never had to hold back.

As she hurriedly helps herself to some of his shampoo, she allows her thoughts to go to Mulder again, but this time they’re PG rated. He seems so different now than he did when she left the house for good. Truthfully, he seems like a different person than the Mulder she met here a few days ago, too.

It’s strange, she thinks, as she massages the shampoo through her hair, but today he doesn’t even remind her of the man who moved into this house with her, the Mulder of ten years ago.

He reminds her more of the Mulder of the old days. Restless, quick-witted, eager. Joking with Skinner. Obviously percolating a theory. More like the Mulder of fifteen, twenty years ago.

In other words, Agent Mulder. Her partner.

She knows, deep down, that the way he’s acting helped make her decision easier, too. Because even when their personal relationship suffered, there was nothing they couldn’t do as partners.

Even the very idea of having her partner back—even just contemplating the word partner—-makes something inside of her feel warm. A feeling that is definitely more than just calm.

She raises her face towards the shower head and lets the hot water pour down over her skin. Keep control of your thoughts, she reminds herself. The shampoo smells like Mulder. She inhales the steamy air and empties her mind.

*** She comes downstairs after her shower wearing Mulder’s clothes with her hair wrapped up in a towel, and she is surprised to see Jackson draining spaghetti in the sink and Mulder stirring something in a pot with a wooden spoon.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Mulder says, looking up at her. “It’s not going to be fancy.”

“I’m hungry,” Scully says, realizing suddenly as she catches a whiff of garlic.

“Me, too,” Jackson says, his tone a little mournful. Scully looks from him to the clock on Mulder’s kitchen wall; it says 8:30. They probably should have started making dinner plans sooner, what with a child in the house.

Once, she remembers, it was her job to make sure William ate on time, every three hours. With a soundless sigh, she acknowledges that she probably wouldn’t have gone on to be the kind of parent who made sure meals happened on a schedule. She’s definitely not very good about remembering to feed herself now.

Jackson abruptly pushes an empty bowl into her hands, gesturing to the drained pasta wordlessly. She doesn’t have to read minds to get his obvious message: Stop thinking and eat.

“I’ll clear the table,” Mulder says, placing his hand on her shoulder reassuringly. “Then we’ll sit and do this right.”

***

“Favorite color?” Mulder leans back in one of the dining room chairs, his fingers interlaced behind his head and his eyes on Jackson across the table.

Jackson is still eating—thirds by now—but politely tolerates the neverending series of questions.

“Blue.” Another big bite of spaghetti. Some of the jarred sauce from Trader Joe’s is on his chin. Scully slides a paper napkin across the table, but he doesn’t pick it up.

“Favorite holiday?”

Jackson considers this one, tilting his head, chewing. “Halloween?”

“Ahh,” Mulder smiles, pleased. “Good answer. Favorite movie?”

“Nobody has just one favorite movie. That’s too hard.”

“I do,” Mulder insists. “Plan 9 from Outer Space.”

“Never heard of it,” Jackson says with a shrug. “I guess if I had to choose … maybe The Avengers. Or The Incredibles or Finding Nemo.”

“Favorite game?” Mulder asks.

“Call of Duty, GTA,” recites Jackson easily. Off Mulder’s scowl, he adds quickly, “Yeah, yeah, I know. Violent and inappropriate.”

“See, you didn’t know what I was thinking that time,” Mulder says, smiling and pointing a gotcha finger. “I was thinking I meant ‘games’ like sports, I guess. Those are video games, right? What’s violent and inappropriate about them?”

“Nothing,” Jackson says quickly with a sly little smile. “If you’ve never heard anything about them, they’re absolutely fine.”

“Favorite class in school?” Scully interjects, leaning forward on the table.

Jackson turns to take her in. She’s sitting at the end of the table with her bowl pushed aside, her hands folded in front of her. He bites his lip in thought. “Math. But I also like P.E. and music.”

“Jackson’s a musician,” Mulder says, his eyes bright. It’s almost painful how proud he looks.

“That’s amazing, Jackson,” she says softly. “What do you play?”

“Guitar, but I’m not that good,” Jackson says sheepishly. “I’m still learning.”

She nods brusquely, pressing her lips together. “Favorite food?”

“Uhhh. I like tacos,” Jackson says, picking up his fork to scrape the remains of sauce off the bottom of his bowl. “And sour candy, like Sour Patch Kids? Plus sunflower seeds. My mom gets frustrated because those get everywhere, in the couch cushions and everything. I like the ranch-flavored kind.”

Scully’s eyes hold Mulder’s for only a half second, but she knows Jackson needs much less time than that to know their feelings. She feels a thrum of panic, and Jackson looks up at her on alert.

“The ranch flavored ones are disgusting,” Mulder says dismissively, after a beat. He pulls a face, and she’s amazed at his ability to keep things afloat, keep conversation flowing normally. “The only kind worth eating is the original flavor, Jackson.”

“Just plain?” Jackson says in disbelief.

“Some things are classics.”

“Get with the times, Mulder,” Jackson says, flashing him a little smile.

***

After dinner, Mulder improbably produces a birthday cake sitting atop a too-small plate, which he carries gingerly to the table.

He has dimmed the lights, even though the cake has no candles. It has an abundance of pink icing roses and is inscribed with her name: Happy Birthday, Scully.

“Oh Mulder,” she says, biting her lip with pleasure. “What is this?”

“Better help me sing, Jackson,” he says as he sets it down in front of Scully. “I’m not the one with a band.”

And so on the eve of her 51st birthday, she hears William sing her happy birthday for the first time. His early adolescent voice and Mulder’s baritone blend perfectly. She can think of nothing more beautiful.

“How did you manage this?” she says to Mulder, the words an effort. She’s trying not to let on exactly how moved she is. For Jackson’s sake, it seems better to keep all her emotions as small as possible.

“I bought it at the bakery and carried it to the car when you were in the bathroom,” Mulder says triumphantly. “It was Jackson’s idea, actually.”

Her head swivels to look at Jackson in astonishment, but he stares down at the pink icing roses, embarrassed. She can’t think of how he would even know it was her birthday. Had Mulder thought about it? Discussed it? That seems highly unlikely, given everything else going on and Mulder’s general forgetfulness on this topic.

Maybe Jackson heard her childishly fantasizing about Mulder surprising her today, way back before she even got in the car. That idea makes her feel ashamed. It must make her seem so petty and small.

“What size piece do you want, Birthday Girl?” Mulder asks, going to retrieve a knife and plates. “Big or giant?”

“Not too big,” protests Scully. “I’m full.”

“But it’s your birthday cake,” Mulder says. “And I was told it’s really good cake.”

“I’ll take a giant piece,” Jackson offers. “If you’re asking.”

Mulder cuts three generous pieces, despite Scully’s protests, and there is a moment of silence as they all three lift their forks to taste it.

“Hmmmm,” Mulder says. “I think that’s caramel filling. Good, right?”

“Mmmmm,” Jackson agrees, his mouth full.

Scully nods her agreement, too, and for a little while, they eat, and she enjoys this birthday cake with two people she’d long given up on having birthday cake with. Is this possible, she wonders? Could this become normal, after all this time?

She doesn’t remember how to have hope about having this any more. It isn’t possible. Not for her. Not for them.

Her eyes fall on Jackson again, and she’s reminded uneasily of the conversation with Mulder at the bakery.

Someone took him from Wyoming. From his actual parents, his life, his home. Someone delivered him here. Someone purposely inserted him back in their lives, artificially making this dream come true.

There’s a catch. There’s always a catch, and while Jackson doesn’t understand the full picture, they understand more, and they have to protect him.

She takes a breath, trying to think of the best approach.

“Jackson,” Scully says casually, setting her fork down. “Mulder tells me that someone brought you here. To Virginia, all the way from Wyoming.”

“Yeah,” Jackson says, lifting another forkful of cake to his mouth. His eyes flash up towards hers guardedly, and the expression reminds her of Mulder, especially Mulder when she first knew him.

“And that you don’t want to tell us who that was.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s that I can’t,” Jackson says. He’s stopped eating now, and is looking down at his plate.

“All right,” Scully says. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It’s just… we’re worried about that. I can’t think of good reasons why that would need to be kept a secret. We’re worried that the people who brought you here…”

“Are the same people who killed my parents,” finishes Jackson dully. “And the same people coming after us now.”

“Yes,” Scully says as gently as she can. “That’s right.”

“I know you’re worried about that.” Jackson sets his fork down, too. His gaze turns from her to Mulder. “I know you both are, I can feel it.” His hand curls into a tight fist on top of the table. “But you have to trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

“It’s not that we don’t trust you—”

“I mean, it is,” he interrupts. “It’s exactly that you don’t trust me. It’s that you don’t trust me to know who I can depend on and who I can’t. Which is kind of ironic considering I’m the one who reads minds.”

“If there are people who know where you are,” Scully says, keeping her tone reasonable, “and we don’t even know their identity, who else they might have spoken to… it’s harder for us to protect you.”

Jackson scoots his chair back with a sharp squeak. “Well,” he says, not meeting her eyes, “guess it’s a good thing I do all right protecting myself.”

“Jackson,” Mulder says softly, “we’re just worried.”

“I know,” he says darkly. “I know you’re worried. If there is one thing I know, it’s what you’re feeling. Especially her.” He looks mutinously at Scully.

Scully hunts desperately for her next words, trying to think of what to say, of what can make him understand.

“You know what?” Jackson stands up. “I’m pretty tired. Thank you for the cake. I think I’m going to go upstairs and go to bed.”

Scully feels this sting keenly. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Really,” Jackson says. “I just want to go to sleep. Please. That’s all.”

Scully places her palms flat on the table and swallows.

“Okay,” she says hollowly. “I’m sure you’re tired.”

“Let us know if you need anything,” Mulder adds.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Jackson says in a stilted, formal voice.

He turns and walks upstairs, and Scully rises from her chair, watching his every step.

She wills her tears back furiously, feeling so intensely angry at herself she is practically breathless.

“Scully.” Across the table, Mulder’s face is full of concern. She stares shakily back at him, clinging to the back of her chair.

“I … messed that up,” she says tightly. Some tears slip through. “I’m not as good at this as you.”

“No,” Mulder says gently. “No. You were right to ask him again. It’s important.���

“I just wish I had waited. We were having a nice evening. It was … going better.”

“He’s thirteen. He’s been through a lot.” Mulder stands up, walks around the table to stand next to her. “Scully, sometimes it’s going to go well, and sometimes it’s not.”

He puts his arms around her, and she allows this comfort, pressing her cheek to his chest. He smells so good, like the clean citrus scent of his shampoo, the same scent in her own hair. A little sob escapes her. She hopes Jackson can’t feel the ripple of it upstairs.

“Could you see anything in his mind?” she whispers into Mulder’s chest. “When I asked about how he got here?”

“No,” Mulder admits, speaking low into her ear. “I only see into his mind every once in a while, and it’s stupid and inconsistent.” He laughs in self-deprecation, and the light tickle of his breaths reaches the shell of her ear, sending a ripple of tingles through her. “I could hear him thinking about how hungry he was earlier. That’s why I started dinner.”

Scully hums back her understanding in response, but it’s muffled by his shirt.

“Come on, g-woman. Let’s go sit,” Mulder suggests, pulling back to look at her.

He tugs her over to sit on the couch, and they both sink down on the cushions side by side, their legs stretched out in front of them, their shoulders nearly touching.

“We’re going to be able to do this,” Mulder says. “It’s overwhelming right now, but we’re going to figure it out, Scully.”

His voice is low, gentle and rumbly, and fills her with the overpowering urge to touch him. She nods, cautiously.

“Skinner seemed pretty confident that reopening the X-files could be a go,” Mulder remarks.

“He did,” she agrees.

“That would be something, wouldn’t it?” Mulder’s voice is awed. “After so long.”

“We should be able to look into his parents’ murders unofficially right away,” Scully says, eyeing him sideways. “As soon as we get access to the servers.”

Mulder’s head bobs in a nod. “Yeah.”

“Does it worry you at all, Mulder? Going back to the FBI?”

“Of course not,” he says, rotating his head towards her. “Not with you there.” His eyes are soft and full of wonder. “I’m amazed. At so much of what has happened.”

She considers him, suddenly overcome with temptation. Probably she shouldn’t. But he’s so beautiful, so effortlessly strong and indefatigable right now. Without thinking about it, she reaches out and runs a fingertip along his jawline.

His eyes widen, alert, a furrow in his forehead.

She leans toward him and lightly ghosts her lips against his, once, twice, finally pressing in to gently kiss him. It feels so good, so simple. Like not thinking about anything. Through his body, so close to hers, she can sense his surprise, his tensed muscles. He doesn’t kiss her back right away.

Slowly he relaxes, touches her waist, kisses her tenderly, carefully. Her hands slide down to take hold of the collar of his sweater, fisting handfuls of the fabric tightly.

She lets her lips hover over his a moment. “I’ve missed you, Mulder.” The words are barely breath.

She feels him stiffen again. Very slowly he pulls back, his expression inscrutable.

“What?” she says. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, exactly,” he says, his eyes wet. “This is what I want. What I’ve wanted since the moment you left. It’s just…”

Her fingers trail up and down the back of his neck. “What?”

“Even a few days ago, it sure didn’t seem like what you wanted.” He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Scully, there have been so many changes today.”

“I know,” she says, feeling a flush of frustration. “I thought maybe we could … together …”

He nods slowly, as if this is what he expected, and he starts to scoot away from her on the couch. “I understand,” he says. “But I think we should wait to … start anything like this … right now.”

He doesn’t sound angry. He sounds worried, and she doesn’t understand why. Why isn’t it enough that she says she misses him? Why can’t they take this comfort in how they feel about one another?

“Why? What are you looking for, Mulder?” Her voice sounds awful, some unholy combination of tearful and sarcastic. “You’re looking for some grand resolution? For me to say it was a mistake to split up in the first place? That I was entirely wrong and you were entirely right?”

“No,” he says quietly. “No, of course not.” He runs his hands down the side of his face. “I just want to be sure it’s … not just the rush of finding William again. Of getting the X-files back.”

She feels irrationally mortified, and she sits up straight, her face now flushing hot. “All right,” she says, turning away. “All right.”

“It’s not that—”

“I didn’t think it needed to be so complicated,” she observes sharply.

“Scully,” he says plaintively. “It’s been an intense day for everyone. And…” He looks away. “We have to work together again. No matter what. For his sake. Don’t you see? It can’t be… unclear.”

Scully smooths her hair back, trying to absorb that statement. It is both logical and intensely painful—that he finds it easier to resist, apparently.

“It’s a bad idea with Jackson upstairs anyway,” she comments, lowering her voice. “I don’t know what I was thinking. What if he’s picking up on all of this?”

“Yeah,” admits Mulder.

They sit there in a pause that seems to stretch out forever.

“Scully,” Mulder begins, “please don’t think that I am saying—”

“I understand,” she interrupts. “I get it, Mulder.”

“Do you want to talk? Watch TV?”

“What are our sleeping arrangements tonight?” Her voice is so cold, and she knows it’s not really fair. “He’s sleeping in the guest room.”

Mulder’s eyes examine her. “You can take the bed. I’ll sleep down here.”

“It’s your bed,” she says. “You take it, and I’ll sleep here. This couch is too small for you anyway. Just find me a pillow and some blankets.”

He hesitates, obviously wanting to argue, but seems to take her expression seriously. “Okay,” he says.

When he goes off to look for some bedding, she puts her head in her hands. It’s going to be fine, she tells herself. He’s probably right to slow her down. She’s acting too impulsively.

So much today has been an incredible gift. So much seems like she’s been handed another chance at everything she ever wanted. And yet somehow she feels as alone as she ever has.

***

[deathofpeaceofmiiind]

illicit affairs | eighteen

*Noah’s POV* When I woke up the next morning Ellie was still sleeping, she had no blankets on her and it was taking everything I had to not run my hands over her ass that was covered in lace. Fighting my thoughts, I got up and decided to go grab us breakfast. I quickly threw on a hoodie, grabbed my AirPods and headed out the door. I put my headphones in, listening to some samples of new music we had been working on. It was nowhere near ready for the world to hear, and I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with it yet. I was thinking of doing a revised deluxe album because I had written a lot after Ellie left that felt like it belonged in this era. It was hard to me to want to close this albums chapter, it had given me so much and helped me grow.

I didn’t get very far listening to it when my phone started to ring, my feet froze when I saw it was Matt. I drew in a sharp breath before answering him.

“Hey…”

“That didn’t take long.”

“I’m sorry, I should’ve talked to you but -“

“I knew she was going back to you but was I even out of fucking Canada before you called her?” “How did you even know?” “You’ve had your location on this whole time.”

Shit. “I had to tell her how I felt, I’m sorry.” “You should’ve fucking waved at me when our planes passed each other bro.” “What the fuck do you want?”

“To say that and to ask if your meeting is about the idea of moving...”

“What makes you think that?”

“Last time someone said team meeting it was because Ruffilo wanted to move back to Virginia.” 

“I have to do this, she has too much tied up here to move in with me.”

“And you don’t? Our whole band’s headquarters is down there.”

“You’re not there and we do just fine.”

“But you’re -“

“There is nothing that will make me stay there, got it?” I felt myself shaking from how irritated I was getting. “Everyone is going to have to realize that my life with Ellie is just has important as this band now.”

“Make the meeting for 6pm your time. Some of us might not have girlfriends but we’re still busy.”

He hung up, causing me to curse under my breath. I figured he was going to be hardest to sell this to, the other guys probably wouldn’t care but I wanted their input. I’m not losing Ellie again and I want to be around her as much as possible. Also I loved it up here, I never got recognized and if I did, I got left alone. I felt like I could finally live the quiet life I dreamt of, and even better it would be with Ellie. I’ll always love LA and what it gave me, but it still came with baggage and noise you couldn’t drown out. Shaking off that god awful phone call, I headed into a local coffee shop and got us iced oat milk lattes and breakfast bagels before heading back home. 

Home. 

Something I still couldn’t believe was real. *Ellie’s POV* I woke up to the sound of the door closing shut causing my body to shoot out of bed thinking Noah left. I guess my pstd from Matt was still there, lucky me. My heart soared when I saw Noah standing in my kitchen holding bagels and coffee for us. I still couldn’t believe this was real and that he was here with me again. He noticed me standing there as his million dollar smile appeared, if it wasn’t for this wall I’d be on the floor by now.

“I hope I didn’t wake you.” “Kinda.” I smirked as he passed me my coffee, “it’s the perfect way to wake up though.” “I agree.” He beamed, kissing my forehead. “I don’t want to dull the mood but we should talk about the whole moving thing.” I sighed, knowing he was right. We both sat down with our breakfast at the table, neither of us knowing where to start. There was nothing I wanted more than for him to be here with me, but I didn’t want to jeopardize his career or make it inconvenient for the band. At the end of the day, he wasn’t going to be a couple states away, he was going to be in another country. 

“Noah, is this a bad idea?” “What do you mean?” I shifted in my seat, grabbing his hand, “I don’t want to make things hard for you and the band. I know being in LA makes the most sense, especially when it comes to recording new music. I also know how much you hate flying, and I worry if you have to fly more you’ll get exhausted and burn yourself out.” “It’s definitely crossed my mind.” He paused to take a small sip of his coffee, “when we talked about this last year, I had a plan already in mind…do you want to hear it?” I just nod. “I was hoping to sell my home in California and buy something up here we could share. I’d put a recording studio in it, we could have a backyard and a pool for Liam and whatever else we needed. Having a recording studio here would help because then I can tweak things and work on them without going to LA, or the band can come up here. Steven has mentioned he wants us to have a Canadian distribution centre for our merch so here would be the perfect spot because we could run it.” My heart jumped into my throat, “We?” “If you wanted a distraction from Nursing, Steven could use a lot more help.” “Wow” I breathed. This went from just having Noah in my apartment to us having a house and possibly working together. “If that’s too much I understand.” He sighed, looking down at my hands. “It’s just been in my mind for a year, and now that I’m here again I want nothing more than to have that future with you finally.” This man was all in for me and I wanted nothing more than to give him everything he wanted. I got out of my chair to go sit on his lap. His somber eyes followed my hands that pushed his bangs out of his face. My own eyes studied the pattern of his freckles before I gently kissed his nose. “Let’s do it.” His eyes widened. “Really?” My smile told him everything he needed to know. His hands wrapped around me as he stood up and spun me around, causing me to laugh uncontrollably. A million I love you’s fell past his mouth and I returned the favour as the moment was filled with complete bliss. Everything was about to fall into place for us and we could finally start our future together.

[thedroneranger]

Jay, darling heart. Granted is boozy wistfulness: Bradley and whiskey, please? Oh champagne 🥂

Cass, my sweet BB™! This order gave me a whole new headcanon! I'm firm in the camp that Bradley is an island hopper vacationist. The man loves water, sand and sun!

However, I can see him wanting to visit Appalachia every now then. He is from Virginia, after all. Maybe it's the North American weather but feels like an autumn trip. He gets a couple bottles of his favorite whiskey and tucks himself away in a remote mountain cabin.

I did take a little liberty and went with a bourbon whiskey. Wild Turkey just felt right. 🥃

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw | Cold Turkey | requested by @notroosterbradshaw

Also popped some champagne for you 🥂

Thirsty? Order a drink, or see what others are drinking!

Tag list: @cherrycola27 @roosterforme @taytaylala12 @galaxy-of-stories @awildewit @potato-girl99981 @shanimallina87 @malindacath @violyn20 @djs8891 @linkpk88 @furiousladyking @daggerspare-standingby @princess76179 @jstarr86 @blue-aconite @hecate-steps-on-me @chicomonks @darkheartcherry @soulmates8 @roosters-girl @dempy @mayhemmanaged @desert-fern @roosterisdaddy36 @hangmanscoming @mavrellover91 @s-u-t @averyhotchner @penguin876 @kmc1989 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @seitmai @abaker74 @callsignharpe @cassiemitchell @startrekfangirl2233 @dakotakazansky @beyondthesefourwalls @bradshawsprincess

[starwarmth]

Books Read In 2023

Beowulf: A New Translation by Maria Dahvana Headley (1/3/23)

East by Edith Pattou (1/4/23)

Midnight on the Moon by Mary Pope Osbourn (1/16/23)

The Lady or The Tiger?, and The Discourager of Hesitancy by Frank R. Stockton (1/17/23)

The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman (1/21/23)

Goblin Market by Christina Rossetti (1/22/23)

Tiger Queen by Annie Sullivan (1/22/23)

The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe by C. S. Lewis (1/26/23)

Batgirl, vol. 1: The Silent Knight (1/27/23)

Batgirl, vol. 2: To The Death (1/27/23)

Batgirl, vol. 3: Point Blank (1/28/23)

The Female of the Species by Rudyard Kipling (2/17/23)

Batgirl: Stephanie Brown, vol. 1 by Bryan Q. Miller (2/19/23)

Batgirl, Stephanie Brown, vol. 2 by Bryan Q. Miller (3/4/23)

Christmas in Noisy Village by Astrid Lindgren (3/4/23)

The Queen’s Blade by T C Southwell (3/5/23)

Sacrifice, The Queen’s Blade #2 by T C Southwell (3/9/23)

The Invisible Assassin, The Queen’s Blade #3 by T C Southwell (3/13/23)

Mermaids by Patty Dann (3/14/23) X

The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám translated by Edward FitzGerald (3/19/23)

The Mirror Visitor by Christelle Dabos (3/21/23) X

The Missing of Clairedelune by Christelle Dabos (3/22/23) X

I’m Glad My Mom Died by Jeannette McCurdy (3/24/23) X

Ronia, The Robber’s Daughter by Astrid Lindgren (3/27/23)

Kiki’s Delivery Service by Eiko Kadono (3/30/23)

Brine and Bone by Kate Stradling (4/10/23)

Green Arrow: Quiver by Kevin Smith (4/17/23) X

Eugene Onegin by Alexander Pushkin, translated by Stanley Mitchell (4/22/23)

When Patty Went to College by Jean Webster (4/23/23)

The Princess and The Pea by Hans Christian Anderson (4/23/23)

Deathmark by Kate Stradling (4/25/23)

Without Blood by Alessandro Baricco (5/5/23)

River Secrets by Shannon Hale (5/6/23)

The Fairy’s Return and Other Princess Tales by Gail Carson Levine (5/8/22)

Batman Adventures: Cat Got Your Tongue? by Steve Vance (5/14/23)

Batman Adventures: Batgirl — A League of Her Own by Paul Dini (5/17/23)

The Girl From The Other Side: Siúil a Rún, Vol. 1 by Nagabe (5/19/23)

Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair by Pablo Neruda. Translated by W. S. Merwin (5/26/23)

Other-Wordly: Words Both Strange and Lovely from Around the World by Yee-Lum Mak (6/21/23)

A Bride’s Story, vol. 1 by Kaoru Mori (6/25/23) X

La Dame aux Camélias by Alexandre Dumas fils (7/17/2023)

Storefront Church by William Waring Cuney (7/24/23)

Golden Slippers: An Anthology of Negro Poetry for Young Readers (1941), compiled by Arnas Bontemps (7/28/23)

Because of Winn-Dixie by Kate DiCamillo (7/29/23)

Strawberry’s New Friend (Flower Fairy Friends series) by Pippa Le Quesne (7/29/23)

Clementine by Sara Pennypacker (8/11/23)

The Whipping Boy by Sid Fleischman (8/18/23)

Convent Boarding School by Virginia Arville Kenny (9/05/23)

The Screwtape Letters by C. S. Lewis (09/18/23)

The Betsy Tacy Treasury by Maud Hart Lovelace (09/27/23)

Sarah, Plain and Tall by Patricia MacLachlan (09/27/23)

Skylark (Sarah, Plain and Tall #2) by Patricia MacLachlan (09/27/23)

Caleb’s Story (Sarah, Plain and Tall #3) by Patricia MacLachlan (09/27/23)

Maelyn by Anita Halle (10/06/23)

Imani All Mine by Connie Porter (10/15/23)

The Perilous Gard (10/22/23)

Enemy Brothers by Constance Savery (10/29/23)

Sadako and the 1000 Paper Cranes by Eleanor Coerr (11/19/23)

Gone By Nightfall by Dee Garretson (12/02/23)

The Dragon’s Promise by Elizabeth Lim (12/08/23)

A Lion to Guard Us by Clyde Robert Bulla (12/10/23)

The Thirteenth Princess by Diane Zahler (12/23/23)

The Hollow Kingdom by Clare B. Dunkle (12/26/23

The Wasteland by T. S. Eliot (12/31/23)

[g-raynard]

Artwork: Toronto based photographer Virginia Mak

[ulkaralakbarova]

Chris is the top brain who just wants to party, Mitch is the 15-year-old college wiz kid. Supposedly hard at work on a lab project with a mysterious deadline, they still find time to use their genius to discover new ways to have fun. Credits: TheMovieDb. Film Cast: Chris Knight: Val Kilmer Mitch Taylor: Gabriel Jarret Jordan: Michelle Meyrink Professor Hathaway: William Atherton Kent: Robert Prescott Major Carnagle: Louis Giambalvo Lazlo Hollyfeld: Jon Gries CIA Man Decker: Ed Lauter Shuttle Pilot: Stacy Peralta Laser Ray Victim: Daniel Ades Bartender: Andres Aybar Air Force General: Charles Shull George: Beau Billingslea Larry: Charles Parks Boy at Science Fair: Sean Frye Girl at Science Fair: JoAnn Willette Old Lady: Ina Gould Student at Science Fair: Nadine Vix Mr. Taylor: Paul Tulley Mrs. Taylor: Joanne Baron Darlington Recruiter: Harry Johnson Sherry Nugil: Patti D’Arbanville Dr. Dodd: Monte Landis Mrs. Meredith: Sandy Martin Dr. Meredith: Severn Darden Cornell: Randy Lowell Carter: John Shepherd Reid Bodie: Tommy Swerdlow ‘Ick’ Ikagami: Mark Kamiyama Math Professor: Martin Gundersen Carpet Man: Brett Miller Milton: Dean Devlin Fenton: Yuji Okumoto Chris’ Girl at Party: Lynda Wiesmeier Ick’s Girl at Party: Penny Baker Cornell’s Girl at Party: Marcia Karr Girl at Party: Isabelle Walker Girl at Party: Marii Mak Girl at Party: Cheri Wells Girl at Party: Catherine MacNamara Student: Johnny Vasily TV Makeup Man: Ed Garrabrandt TV Stage Manager: Isabel Cooley Waitress: Robin Stober Susan: Deborah Foreman Student in Hall: David Marvit Air Force Gate Guard: Michael Crabtree Air Force Gate Guard: Charles Sweigart Air Force Gate Guard: Peter Parros Computer Technician: Ronald Taylor Air Force Major: James Carrington Air Force Controller: Michael Backes Air Force Sergeant: Corki Grazer Laser Technician: Jeanne Mori Engineer: David Ursin Congressman: Joe Dorsey Laser Specialist: Will Knox Air Force Technician: Kevin Hurley Girl in Popcorn (uncredited): Kimberly Spak Film Crew: Director: Martha Coolidge Set Decoration: Phil Abramson Camera Operator: John J. Connor Producer: Brian Grazer Casting: Jane Jenkins Production Design: Josan F. Russo Hairstylist: Edie Panda Visual Effects Supervisor: Richard L. Bennett Casting: Janet Hirshenson Screenplay: Neal Israel Screenplay: Pat Proft Editor: Richard Chew Makeup Artist: Zoltan Elek Original Music Composer: Thomas Newman Art Direction: Jack G. Taylor Jr. Special Effects Coordinator: Phil Cory Executive Producer: Robert Daley Director of Photography: Vilmos Zsigmond Screenplay: PJ Torokvei Associate Producer: Sam Crespi-Horowitz Music Supervisor: Becky Mancuso-Winding Music Supervisor: Michael Papale Supervising Sound Editor: Julia Evershade Sound Designer: George Budd Music Editor: Ted Whitfield Costume Supervisor: Marla Denise Schlom Costumer: Joseph Roveto Costumer: Michael F. Hamer Visual Effects Supervisor: David Stipes Stunts: Kenny Alexander Stunts: Shane Dixon Stunts: Kenny Ferrugiaro Stunts: Linda Lee Franklin Stunts: Allan Graf Stunts: Marian Green Stunts: Debby Porter Stunts: Bernie Pock Stunts: Spiro Razatos Stunts: Edward J. Ulrich Stunts: David M. Graves Unit Production Manager: Billy Ray Smith First Assistant Director: Stephen McEveety Second Assistant Director: Joseph P. Moore Set Designer: Erin M. Cummings Set Designer: Steven Wolff Other: Alex Tavoularis First Assistant Camera: Ken Nishino Second Assistant Camera: Robert Samuels Second Unit Director of Photography: Frederick Elmes Key Grip: Richard W. Deats Grip: Jerry D. Deats Best Boy Electric: Robert Jason Additional Editing: Arthur Coburn First Assistant Editor: Albert Coleman Other: Alexandra Leviloff Other: Deborah Cichocki Other: Bill Wilner Sound Editor: Anna Boorstin Sound Editor: Virginia Cook-McGowan Sound Editor: Cari Lewis Sound Editor: Marshall Winn Sound Editor: Roxanne Jones McCarthy Supervising ADR Editor: Beth Bergeron ADR Editor: Lauren Palmer Assistant Sound Editor: Paul C. Warschilka Assistant Sound Editor: Christy Richmond Sound Effects: John P. Fasal Sound Effects: Doug Hemp...

[wankerwatch]

Commons Vote

On: High Speed Rail (Crewe - Manchester) Bill: Instruction (No. 3)

Ayes: 323 (69.6% Con, 27.0% Lab, 1.6% Ind, 0.9% DUP, 0.3% WPB, 0.3% RUK, 0.3% LD) Noes: 7 (62.5% Con, 37.5% LD) Absent: ~320

Likely Referenced Bill: High Speed Rail (Crewe - Manchester) Bill

Description: A Bill to make provision for a railway between a junction with Phase 2a of High Speed 2 south of Crewe in Cheshire and Manchester Piccadilly Station; for a railway between Hoo Green in Cheshire and a junction with the West Coast Main Line at Bamfurlong, south of Wigan; and for connected purposes.

Originating house: Commons Current house: Commons Bill Stage: 2nd reading

Individual Votes:

Ayes

Conservative (222 votes)

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Noes

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Helen Morgan Richard Foord Wera Hobhouse

[roosterforme]

Beer Boy and Sugar: The Second Lost Year (Bradley Bradshaw x Reader)

Part of the Lost Years series for Beer Boy and Sugar

Warnings: language, longing, angst (series fits chronologically between Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time)

Banner by @mak-32

Year Two

Bradley dropped down on his bed and started to untie his boots while Nat looked around at everything on his desk. They were both about to start flying solo now, and it was such a relief that she was advancing in the program with him. It brought him a little bit of joy every time they left the others in the dust.

"I always liked this thing," she remarked, poking his Navy desk lamp as he set his boots under his bed. "You said it was your dad's, right?"

"Yeah. Makes it vintage," he replied with a grin as he lounged back on his pillows, already thinking about dinner in the mess hall. It was hot as hell outside, especially by Rhode Island standards, and it made him miss Virginia a little bit. "Are you ready for dinner?"

She groaned. "It's too hot to go outside and walk all the way to get food. Your air conditioner works better than mine, too. Can't we just stay in here?"

His stomach growled as he said, "All I got is some protein bars and instant mac and cheese. And I'm starving."

Nat started to poke at the book he was currently reading as she said, "I'll order us a pizza."

This was something he'd never get used to, even though he considered her his best friend. She always seemed to have money from her parents, and he had basically nothing. But she continually offered to share her food with him. Bradley wasn't exactly sure what he brought to this friendship, but she seemed to enjoy having him around, so he didn't bring it up.

"Fine," he agreed.

This seemed to make her happy as she fished her phone out of her pocket. "You want your usual topping choice?"

Bradley froze with his fingers pushed back in his messy hair. At first, he always ordered his pizza that way, because that's how you liked it. Now Nat thought it was his preference. But maybe it actually was?

"Yeah," he replied softly. "Please." 

Then he listened to her call it in while his thoughts drifted back to Virginia. He hadn't seen or heard from you in fourteen months, but he'd thought about you every single day. It hurt a little less now, but all the feelings were still there. He still looked at all the pictures he had saved on his phone. He thought about you when he touched himself. He still hadn't slept with anyone else since you.

"Why would you keep a differential equations notebook from UVA?" Nat mused, but he was barely listening to her as he thought about your body curled up against his while you wore his Grateful Dead shirt. "Did you even take advanced math?" 

When he finally registered what she said, he sat up in his bed and saw her holding your purple notebook. The one with all the doodles and love notes in the margins, and he felt like he was back in the study room with you on his lap. The breath was knocked from his lugs as a sheet of loose, folded paper fell onto her lap, and she picked it up and started to read it out loud.

"Dear Beer Boy, 

I'm bored in my calculus lecture, and I just started thinking about your bedroom door. It's still the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life. Maybe you and I could wait until the middle of the night when all of your fraternity brothers are asleep and sneak out into the hallway and-"

Bradley lunged out of bed and grabbed the note from her hand before she could see the rest. "What the fuck, Nat? That's personal!"

Her dark brown eyes were as wide as saucers as she said, "That was from her."

He knew she was kind of mystified by you, given that he only shared details of the happiest months of his adult life sparingly. She always asked for more information when he mentioned you, always wanted to know more. But Bradley felt like the magic would wear off the more he talked about you, so he always kept it brief. He also knew he wasn't going to get away with saying nothing right now.

"Yeah," he grunted, taking the purple notebook from her hands and returning the folded note to the back pages. The sight of your handwriting filled him with a deep need for you. "And this was her notebook."

Nat's voice was gentle, as if she was trying not to spook him when she asked, "Why did she like your door so much?"

Bradley closed his eyes and laughed quietly. "I painted over all the other girls' names and phone numbers. For her. Or for myself. I don't really know anymore."

Now her eyes were narrowed when he looked at her again. "'All the other girls'. Holy shit, Bradshaw. Were you some sort of fuckboy in college?"

He leaned back against his pillows again as he groaned, "Basically." He didn't really like thinking about it, because that hadn't been him for a long time now. "Before Sugar."

She took her phone out again, and Bradley desperately wished the pizza would arrive so this conversation could end. But Nat asked, "What was her last name again? I want to know exactly what she looks like."

He whispered the word, loving the feel of it on his tongue as he took his own phone out. He located the picture of him with his arm around your shoulders that Dev took the week before graduation. Your smile was too pretty, and your face was too perfect. There was a reason he had to limit himself, and the onslaught of feelings was proof of why: He wasn't over you yet.

"Here," he muttered, stretching his arm out to hand his phone to Nat, but she gasped as she looked at her own phone.

"She's gorgeous. I found her Instagram account."

"You did?" he asked, launching himself off of the bed and forcefully switching phones with her. She gasped again as she looked at the photo on his phone, but Bradley was too busy staring at the tiny thumbnail of your smiling face. Your account was set to private, but this photo must have been more recent. Your hair was styled differently, and the only thing he could process was that he felt relieved you were posing alone instead of with some other guy. He didn't want to have to put a face to that.

He thought about taking a screenshot and texting it to himself, but he couldn't. He wouldn't. And when Nat asked if he wanted her to send you a friend request, he said absolutely not. "You think I want her to know I still think about her every day? No."

Then she said, "But maybe she still thinks about you." 

Bradley didn't see how that was a possibility.

The pizza finally arrived just then, and Nat stood to go get it. She gave him a cautious hug and said, "I think she would be proud of you." She left him alone with both phones in his hands, and somehow he knew it would be easier to talk about you now if he wanted to.

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

It was mind blowing. Three months ago, Chicago was freezing cold and practically encased in ice. Now it was blazing hot to the point that you couldn't get any relief unless you were inside your dorm room. It was Friday, thank goodness. Everyone in your graduate studies group wanted to go out for deep dish pizza tonight, and you had to figure out a way to stop sweating long enough to actually get dressed in something other than the shorts and tank you were wearing now.

You groaned as you carried your computer and textbooks across campus in your backpack. You had the highest grades out of all of the math graduate students, but you still took everything with you everywhere in case you had some extra time to study. But you should have left everything in your room instead on this sweltering day.

The quad was packed with tables and students participating in a career fair, but for some reason, this was where Jared asked you to meet up. Four dates with him, and you still weren't convinced it was a good idea to take things out of the friend zone. Four dates, and you still didn't really want to do anything besides kiss him. It wasn't that there was anything wrong with him, he just wasn't exactly right.

"Hey!" 

As soon as you heard Jared calling out for you, your initial reaction was to hide. You were absolutely going to have to tell him you didn't want to see him anymore, and it mostly made you mad that it would probably disrupt your friend group. 

"Hi," you replied as he squeezed through the crowd to get to you. And then he slipped his sweaty hand in yours, and you actually cringed. Why wasn't this what you wanted? After nearly a year, he wore you down enough that you gave it a try, but this was decidedly bad. Especially since you could picture exactly what you did want.

When you looked up at Jared's face, your gaze drifted to your left. You gasped and dropped his hand immediately. There were recruiters from the Navy. They were wearing flight suits. You caught a glimpse of wavy brown hair and a flash of dark eyes, and you were off.

Jared was calling after you as you fought through the crowd, catching glimpses here and there of broad shoulders and a handsome smile. Oh my god, he was here. Somehow, he was here. Like he'd just climbed out of your dreams and into the University of Chicago campus. 

"Bradley!"

Your voice rang out, but he didn't fully turn your way. You rushed a little faster, no longer caring if you knocked someone into one of the tables. 

"Bradley!"

But you stumbled as you reached the recruiters, and your smile evaporated from your lips. Tears stung at your eyes as he turned to face you, leaving your heart filled with disappointment. 

"Hey, there. I'm Lieutenant Chapman," he said with a grin, and you honestly didn't know how you could have been mistaken. His eyes were hazel, and his hair was too curly, and now you were standing there feeling like you'd just broken your own heart all over again. The disappointment could smother you if you let it.

You nodded and turned away as sweat dripped down your chest and an awful feeling settled into your stomach. You made your way back through the crowd at a much slower pace with no real desire to talk to Jared, but you reached him all too soon.

"What happened?" he asked, grabbing your hand again.

You looked at the ground and tried to hide your tears as he squeezed your hand tighter. "Sorry. I thought I saw an old friend."

He just made an impatient noise and asked, "You ready to go get changed and grab some pizza with everyone else? I thought we could ditch them early and maybe go back to my room and watch a movie? And like hang out... on my bed?"

His voice was distressingly hopeful. You wanted to say no. You knew you should. But you kept your eyes fixed on the ground as you said, "Sounds good," with almost no conviction. You wanted to get past this, so you needed to actually start trying.

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

Make it stop hurting. Or don't. I don't know. They must both already know they belong together. Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in the rest of this series!

@beyondthesefourwalls @thedroneranger @cherrycola27 @sorchathered @mamachasesmayhem @attapullman @bobgasm @desert-fern @startrekfangirl2233 @shanimallina87 @sylviebell @wkndwlff @horseslovers2016 @sadpetalsstuff @schoollover @jessicab1991 @lex-winchester @bellaireland1981 @sagittarius-flowerchild @marvelouslyme96 @trickphotography2 @goldenseresinretriever @rascallyrascals @auroracaroline @nerdgirljen @redbarn1995 @theweekndhistorybook @averyhotchner @moon42flight @eli2447 @lyn-js @na-ta-sh-aa @mygyn @je-suis-prest-rachel @kcloveswrestling @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog @callsign-magnolia @eternalsams @lynnestra44 @shinzowosasageyoooo @tgmreader @princessofglitterland @backupbrii @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @averyhotchner @hookslove1592 @callsigns-haze

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 365. brb x oc

a/n: sorry for not possting guyssss(comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none uwu

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/

/316/317/318/319/320/321/322/323/324/325/326/327/328/329/330/331/332/333/334/335/336/337/338/339/340/341/342/343/344/345/346/347/348/349/350/351/352/353/354/355/356/357/358/359/360/361/362/363

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @novastories @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix @lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

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-

Beatrice wasn’t waiting for anyone and she was busy pulling the Halloween decorations from the attic when she heard the doorbell. The dogs immediately perked up and Nicole stopped sitting on top of Jack to stare at it, “...mama?”

Bea frowns, then clears her throat, “Roos?” she calls and her husband’s footsteps thud over, he looks from her to the door, “...could you…uh…open it?”

Rooster glanced at Beatrice, "What, are you scared it's a trick-or-treater?"

Beatrice rolled her eyes, a smirk playing on her lips. "No, I just have my hands full with these decorations," she replied, gesturing to the box of Halloween decorations in her arms. "Besides, you're the one with the muscles, remember?"

Rooster chuckled, shaking his head as he made his way to the front door. "Alright, alright, I'll handle it," he said, flexing his arms to her, “Only because you asked nicely.” He reached for the doorknob and pulled the door open, then he paused, furrowing his brows…”Hello?”

“Bradley Bradshaw?”

He frowns, straightening his posture so he could appear bigger to this man…he felt…like he knew him. He also had a mustache, he was as tall as he was and they did look like a similar “...how’s it going man.” he smirks, ‘Been a while,knucklehead.”

Wait.

Rooster widens his eyes, “Holy shit,John?!”

John's eyes lit up with recognition as he grinned at Rooster. "Damn right, it's me! Can't believe it took you that long to figure it out, Bradshaw," he teased, “Took you so long,huh?”

Rooster laughed, stepping forward to pull John into a tight embrace. "Man, it's been too long," he exclaimed, clapping John on the back. "What brings you here?"

John pulled back, “I’ve been trying to find you, you left Virginia and you just disappeared because of the Navy,right?” his eyes drop to Rooster’s hand,”...and you got married too?”

“Well,yeah, I joined the Navy after high school," he confirmed, his eyes dropping to his wedding band. "And yeah, I got married a few years ago."

"I heard about your deployment overseas," he said quietly, his tone sympathetic. "I tried reaching out, but I guess I didn't have the right contacts."

“...right contacts?”

“Yeah, guess they wouldn’t allow me to talk to you unless we’re family.”

A very long pause followed. So long that Beatrice herself leaned back to see what was going on. 

Rooster licked his lips as he propped his hand on his hip “...you…you are the John we were told about?”

John's expression shifted, surprise flickering across his features. "Told about? What do you mean?" 

Rooster hesitated, unsure of how much he should reveal. He exchanged a glance with Beatrice, silently communicating with her before turning back to John. "We were...told that someone named John was saying to be my uncle and wanted to talk to me," he explained carefully, choosing his words with precision.

“Oh. Ohhhh,hah that…yeah I mean I said it as a joke.”

Rooster raised an eyebrow, his expression incredulous. "A joke?" he echoed, in disbelief.

John scratched the back of his head, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "Yeah, you know, just messing around," he replied, his voice slightly strained. "I didn't think you'd take it seriously."

Rooster's jaw tightened as he processed John's words, and he…didn’t know how to feel about that. Clearing his throat, Rooster forced a tight smile. "Well, you got me," he said lightly, though there was a hint of disappointment in his voice. "So, what brings you here, John?"

John's grin faltered slightly as he sensed Rooster's tension, but he quickly regained his composure. "Oh, you know, just passing through town and thought I'd drop by," he replied casually, his tone overly nonchalant. “And you know, wanted to see one of my best friends from school, ‘cause of the reunion.”

“...reunion?”

“From High School!” John smiles, “Didn’t you get anything in the email?”

Rooster blinked…did he? Honestly he often skimmed over his emails so quickly he probably missed it entirely, “...I’m not sure.”

John's smile faltered at Rooster's response, disappointment flashing in his eyes. "Oh, uh, well, maybe it got lost in your inbox or something," he replied, "But yeah, there's a high school reunion happening next month. I thought you'd be interested in catching up with everyone."

Rooster's mind raced as he tried to recall if he had indeed received an email about the reunion. "Yeah, I must have missed it," he admitted,"But thanks for letting me know."

Beatrice stepped forward, offering John a warm yet careful smile. "It's nice to meet you, John," she said politely, extending her hand. "I'm Beatrice, Rooster's wife."

John's eyes lit up with surprise as he shook Beatrice's hand. "Nice to meet you too, Beatrice," he replied, his tone friendly. "Wow,he's a lucky guy." he chuckles,”Never thought you’d go for–” neither Bea or Rooster breathe, both expecting John to say something about Beatrice’s curvy body, “-brunettes.”

Oh.

Whew.

Rooster managed a strained chuckle, though inwardly, he bristled at John's comment. He shot a quick glance at Beatrice, silently communicating his discomfort, before turning back to John with a tight smile.

"Right, well, I'll keep that in mind," Rooster replied, his tone guarded. "Anyway, it was nice seeing you, John. How…did you get our address again?”

John's grin widened, seemingly oblivious to Rooster's discomfort. "Oh, I just asked around," he replied casually, his tone nonchalant. "Figured someone in town would know where to find you."

Rooster's brows furrowed slightly at John's response, a flicker of unease stirring in the pit of his stomach. He exchanged a glance with Beatrice, silently communicating his concern, before turning back to John with a forced smile.

"Well, I'm glad you…found us," Rooster said diplomatically,  "But we're actually in the middle of something right now, so..."

John's smile faltered at Rooster's abruptness, his expression shifting to one of disappointment. "Oh, uh, yeah, no problem," he replied, "I didn't mean to interrupt, I just wanted to say hi. It’s been so long!"

"It's fine," he said curtly, gesturing towards the parked car not far from there. "We'll catch up another time, okay?"

“Yeah, sure. Of course.” John hesitated for a moment, then gave them a small wave before turning to leave. As he walked away, Rooster couldn't keep his eyes off of him, wanting to see him enter the car and leave.

Beatrice watched John go with a furrowed brow, her mind racing with questions and concerns. She turned to Rooster, "Do you think he's telling the truth about just passing through town?" she asked quietly, her voice laced with uncertainty.

Rooster sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I honestly don't know," he admitted, his tone heavy with frustration. "I haven’t seen the guy in years and to find out he is the one saying to be my uncle? Kinda creepy.”

“Were you two close?”

“We had friends in the same groups.” Rooster says, “Back when we were like, fourteen maybe? He was a funny guy but,I don’t know why he thought this whole idea was hilarious.”

Beatrice nodded, her gaze lingering on the spot where John had disappeared. "It's just strange that he would show up out of nowhere like that," she mused, her voice tinged with concern. "And claiming to be your uncle? That's...unsettling."

"Yeah, it doesn't sit right with me either," he admitted, his tone tight with unease. "I mean, why would he suddenly decide to reconnect after all this time? Just because of the reunion– which I’m not going by the way.”

“You are not?”

“No,I’m enjoying my extended leave with you, not with those people.” he mutters, “The kids are growing and I’m not here to see it, the dogs are starting to grow old too, I’m not going to waste my time in a reunion.”

"Family time is more important than any reunion."

Rooster's tense expression softened at Beatrice's words, a wave of gratitude washing over him. He squeezed her hand back, offering her a grateful smile. "Thanks, Bea," he murmured, his voice sincere. "I'm glad you understand."

They stood in silence for a moment, the weight of John's unexpected visit hanging heavy in the air. Beatrice's mind raced with questions and concerns, but she pushed them aside for now, focusing on the warmth of Rooster's hand in hers.

After a moment, Rooster cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Well, let's head back inside," he suggested, his tone gentle. "We can talk more about this later, once the kids are asleep."

Beatrice nodded in agreement,  but looked over her shoulder one last time before stepping in.

-

“So,John.”

“Mhm.”

She leans back on the couch while holding her wine glass, “You two were friends.” Rooster nods, “Did you stop being friends or…time separated you guys?”

Rooster took a sip of his own drink before replying, his gaze distant "We drifted apart," he admitted, "Life took us in different directions, I guess."

Beatrice nodded, her expression thoughtful as she processed Rooster's words. "That happens," she agreed, her voice soft. "People change, circumstances change. It's just a part of life."

"Yeah," Rooster agreed, pursing his lips. "But it's still strange to see him after all this time. I never expected him to just...show up out of nowhere…or how he did. I don’t think what he did is even legal."

"So," Beatrice leans on a hand, "what do you think we should do about John?"

Rooster furrowed his brows in thought, his mind racing with possibilities. "I'm not sure," he admitted, his tone troubled. "I don't want to jump to any conclusions, but...I also don't want to ignore the fact that he showed up unannounced,kind of."

“It does seem weird he just wanted to…uh…revive the friendship.”

“Honestly, he was always…uhhh…”

“Eccentric?”

“Weird.” Rooster says, “He did have this weird,I don’t know, idea he was the leader of our group or something.” he gently scratches Jolene’s head with his free hand, the pittie huffing happily below him, “And,maybe,well…well maybe he does want to meet everyone again?”

Beatrice nodded slowly, "Maybe," she agreed, her tone cautious. "But even if that's the case, his approach was...questionable, to say the least. It's not like he reached out beforehand or anything."

Rooster sighed, his shoulders slumping with frustration. "Yeah, you're right," he admitted, his voice tinged with irritation as he spun the glass in his hand. "I just wish he had handled things differently. If he really wanted to, you know, meet again."

"I know, Roos," she said softly, her gaze filled with empathy. "But we can't change what's already happened. All we can do is figure out how to move forward from here." she smiles, “That won’t cause you any trouble,right? Especially with your promotion ceremony this weekend?”

Rooster's expression softened at Beatrice's concern,"I'll figure it out, gorgeous," he replied, his voice steady. "I won't let anything or anyone ruin this weekend for us."

Beatrice smiled, a sense of relief washing over her at Rooster's words. She leaned in closer to him, her hand finding his as she squeezed it gently. "I know you will, Roos," she murmured, her voice filled with confidence. "You always do."

‘Aw,” he smiles, “Keep that up and I might fall in love with you.”

Beatrice chuckled "Careful, LC," she teased, her tone light and teasing. "You might just find yourself head over heels."

Rooster grinned, his eyes sparkling with affection as he met Beatrice's gaze. "Wouldn't be the first time," he replied, his voice soft with adoration. "But seriously, Bea, I’ll be okay. I can always talk to Mav and Cyclone,say this whole thing was……a huge misunderstanding because of a former friend of mine.”

Beatrice nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "That sounds like a good plan," she agreed, her voice filled with reassurance. "Having Mav and Cyclone's support will definitely help."

“Yeah…” he blinks, “But…I might talk to John again.”

“...really?”

“Yeah…” he frowns, “...I just remembered something…and i think it’s important.”

[ledenews]

Three Catholic Schools in WV Named to AP School Honor Roll

Three of the Diocese of Wheeling-Charleston’s Catholic high schools are among only seven in the state to earn The AP (Advanced Placement) School Honor Roll Award, a recognition for the best of the best in outstanding achievements for college readiness. Interim Superintendent Jennifer Hornyak said the accolade is a significant testament to academic excellence, student work ethic, accountability, and mission of the Catholic Schools in West Virginia. “We are so proud of this distinction not only for our Catholic schools, but also for our students, their families, and our teachers,” Hornyak said. “When you are a member of our Catholic schools you are an important part of our team that works hard to remain focused on living our united mission, ‘accompany families in challenging children to recognize, develop, and share theirGod-given gifts and talents.’" Charleston Catholic High School (Charleston), Notre Dame High School (Clarksburg), and Central Catholic High School (Wheeling), were recognized along with four other WV high schools. Charleston Catholic High School earned top honors designated as a Platinum Award Winner. Notre Dame earned the Silver Award, and Central Catholic High School the Bronze Award. All of these schools are being showcased by AP and the College Board for their commitment to increasing college-bound culture, providing opportunities for students to earncollege credit, and maximizing college readiness. There are four levels of distinction: Bronze, Silver, Gold, and Platinum. For a school to be recognized on the AP School Honor Roll in a given year, it must meet each of the following criteria for their students in the most recent graduating class (2023); and these criteria areanchored in research-based relationships between AP and college outcomes: o College Culture: 40% or more of the graduating cohort took at least 1 AP Examduring high school.o College Credit: 25% or more of the graduating cohort scored a 3 or higher on atleast 1 AP Exam during high school.o College Optimization: 2% or more of the graduating cohort took 5 or more AP Exams during high school. At least 1 of those exams was taken in 9th or 10th grade, so that students are spreading their AP experience across grades rather than feeling disproportionate pressure in any single year.  “I am proud of our students for choosing challenging academic courses and working hard to complete the coursework with high levels of achievement,” Hornyak said. “We expect a lot from our students and encourage them to exceed their own expectations in the classroom,community, and our churches. We want them to think bigger.” The Catholic Schools of West Virginia prioritize not only grade level aptitude, but also college and career readiness in a strong faith-based environment, Hornyak said. In order to provide the best opportunities for our students, our teachers must also be forward-thinking andlifelong learners. “Our principals and teachers are the cornerstone of our Catholic schools, and their dedication to their students is inspiring,” Hornyak said. “Accolades our schools and students receive are a direct reflection of our educators, who demonstrate their own commitment to behigh achieving lifelong learners and promoters of a growth mindset.” Wheeling’s Central Catholic High School was also awarded the AP Access Award, identifying it as a school with a clear and effective commitment to equitable access to advanced coursework. Schools earn the additional award if the percentage of AP Exam takers who areunderrepresented minority and/or low-income students mirrors the school's overall student demographics. (For example, if 50% of a school's student body is low income, then 50% of the AP Exam takers must also be low income for a school to receive the AP Access Award.)In the US, US Territories, and Canada only 30 percent of eligible schools are recognized for creating elite AP programs. This year 4,570 schools make up that 30 percent. Only seven of those are in WV. It is important to note of those top schools: 886 schools (6% of eligible schools) received Platinum level AP School Honor Rollrecognition. 914 schools (6% of eligible schools) received Gold level AP School Honor Rollrecognition. 1,430 schools (9% of eligible schools) received Silver level AP School Honor Rollrecognition. 1,340 schools (9% of eligible schools) received Bronze level AP School Honor Rollrecognition. For more information about AP go to: https://apcentral.collegeboard.org. Read the full article

[kuizoku1986]

Maks & Val Chmerkovskiy Share a Sweet Look Inside Their Family Worlds

Maksim and Val Chmerkovskiy aren't twins—as they're quick to point out—but they can't help mirror each other. Especially when both brothers are smiling so brightly. "Life is awesome," Val, who... May 01, 2023 at 06:00AM Berwick Pennsylvania Brinklow Maryland Arena North Dakota Sedalia Missouri Mc Girk Missouri Robbins California Clark Pennsylvania Turner Arkansas Glenwood New York Sheldon Vermont Sweeden Kentucky Williston Tennessee https://unitedstatesvirtualmail.blogspot.com/2023/05/maks-val-chmerkovskiy-share-sweet-look.html May 01, 2023 at 08:19AM Avalon Mississippi Whitewater Indiana Bernice Louisiana Braidwood Illinois North Clymer New York Blue Hill Maine Mays Landing New Jersey New Canton Virginia Greenvale New York https://bakersfieldcaliforniamailbox.blogspot.com/2023/05/maks-val-chmerkovskiy-share-sweet-look.html May 01, 2023 at 08:38AM https://unitedstatescounselingcreditconsumer.blogspot.com/2023/05/maks-val-chmerkovskiy-share-sweet-look.html

[recovecosyrefrotes]

Es triste ignorar el nombre de lo que se ama. 

Se parece a la melancolía pura. 

Cuando lo sabemos, 

el nombre acude a posarse 

con delicadeza en nuestro espíritu 

como un pájaro en nuestra mano. 

Nombrar lo que amamos 

es amarlo aún mejor.

                                                                                                 Christian Bobin

Ph: Virginia Mak, Of One's Own, 2011

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