#I got my masters degree in a subject I really love!

[rationaliity]

gonna just drop a bulletpoint story out there because this aint a lot to go off of but you're soooo right, speak your truth i love you. you're putting two of my favorite things together, ratio and kitsune / foxes

♡ kitsune! ratio who got eight tails, some joke its one tail for each subject that he's graduated college with a master's degree for

♡ he's really is far more playful than people give him credit for, although in his own deadpan kind of way

♡ like, no, he doesn't outright make jokes, but he'll say stuff that goes over people's heads and then loudly exclaim " why do i even bother ?! " with a feigned annoyance, but it's okay because its ratio and it's cute

♡ he really takes the ' sly fox ' thing to heart. i mean, he already works in the shadows, sly is just a part of who he is

♡ but he is still a good person !! people may often assume that he's not because of how he acts and they attribute that to being a kitsune, but he really does care about humans

♡ especially one stupid little human who likes to visit the shrine he lives at a lot

♡ yeah, you caught his attention, but he would much rather die than admit that to you

♡ he doesn't say anything when you offer him the good tuna while he's in his fox form, even though it irks him a little bit because he's a fox, you moron, not a wild cat

♡ shouldn't you be trying to run away from him anyways ? why are you so brazen about walking up to a fox ? don't you know that they're wild animals and they can hurt you if they wanted to ?

♡ you're so lucky that he doesn't want to, otherwise it would be a problem on your side

♡ he eats the tuna every time you bring it for an offering, enjoying it even though he bites back a snarky comment every single time

♡ he's smart enough not to bite the hand that feeds him. his shrine is so far out into the woods that you're really the only one who comes to visit him from time to time, something that he was silently grateful for

♡ he's not tied to the shrine, he can leave if he wanted to, and he's often out and about doing whatever he wanted to, usually finding a hapless human like you and quietly guiding them towards a better solution

♡ but you liked to visit the shrine every wednesday, so he made sure he was there every wednesday

♡ why ? because he wanted to

♡ when he finally revealed his true form to you, it was purely to educate you on something stupid that you had done, at least that's what he told himself

♡ you'd gotten cut by the bramble out in the forest while making the trip to him, and so of course he had to show his true form to bandage your wounds, that was only proper of him

♡ while biting your ear off about not even worrying about the wound until you were at the shrine. what if it got infected, or worse ? you truly were a foolish human

♡ all eight of his tails are angrily flicking the ground below him as he patches you up the best he can, meanwhile berating you for your idiocy, something that he cant stand

♡ and you're just smiling like a moron, too, despite being injured ! he can't wrap his head around you !

♡ finally, once youre all taken care of, he has to ask why you offer him food, when he just looked like a regular fox to you at the shrine

♡ possibly the most annoying thing ever, you don't have a good answer. no profound understanding, just because you want to

♡ he's so frustrated with you he's sure he may pop a blood vessel, and you offer to leave, but he tells you to stay. it would've made the trip and your injury meaningless if you left so suddenly without staying for anything

♡ and when the sun begins to set, you find him... following you away from the shrine ?

♡ ask him what he's doing and he's just going to give you a simple answer, and if this should've been common knowledge to you all along, and you were an idiot for asking

♡ " of course, someone has to watch over you to make sure you don't accidentally get yourself killed. "

— ♡ rationaliity 2024

[milaswriting]

Update. — 3rd October 2024

Well, helloo. If you're following me and reading this then...you must really hate me for my lack of activity on this blog. I apologise for that. Doing a masters degree really kicks my ass, and leaves me with no time to write. But Golden has never been dead or abandoned, it's very much always at the forefront of my mind.

And, for that pure reason, I know it's a story I haven't been 1,000% happy with so the story is going through some major changes. Probably, the first is that it's being rewritten. A (somewhat) new plot written with whole new software—we're making the move to Twine.

My reasoning; I've spent over a year learning the coding which makes me want to rip my hair out. I get to have a lot more ownership over my work, the customisation options are stellar, and you guys will get to read it for free.

The reasons for rewriting has been because I want to fix the cringey writing from when the story's first demo was released. It's mostly from the earlier chapters, but then the thought of plot changes came to me and I wanted to implement those. Realistically, the majority of what's being rewritten is what I had planned for book two—so I'm just bringing that forward. I'll update the synopsis closer to the release of this rewrite.

The changes (which can be subject to change): I'm getting rid of the university idea (though you can still choose careers that are related to those degrees from the options that'll be given) (e.g., if you liked the nursing student option, then your MC can work as a nurse). I'm thinking that the MC will already know about the supernatural world to some extent—there'll still be a lot of suspense and mystery and things to unravel, that was always going to remain. And, in this rewrite, my thought is that the MC and the gang will be working at a multi-agency organisation — called The Everbrook — where the aim is to bridge the gap between humans and supernaturals. To make the world run smoothly, so to speak.

The ROs are the exact same! No changes to that—the only change is that them and the mc will somewhat know of each other already. The genre is the same. MC is still as they are, a Lehsian socialite with a pretty (yet peculiar) birthmark. The parents will have much, much less of a role, but they'll still be mentioned here and there.

This seems like a load of word vomit, but I feel like these changes will improve the story. I'm hoping that it'll make MC less of a spare part in the story, allowing them to have more autonomy in the supernatural universe, especially with their enhanced skillset.

I've done the customisation in terms of the UI layout for Twine already, and it should be mobile friendly too. With that done, I've started writing and I'm a few thousand words in. A lot of what I've written in the ChoiceScript version can still be used, but also getting back into writing a story from scratch is something I'm looking forward to.

I feel like this is a bittersweet thing because yay to a new and better story, but also the time it's going to take to get it out. I'll debate whether to release the whole ten chapters, or do a few chapters at a time, like splitting it up into chunks (releasing three chapters now, and three chapters later on).

Another reason as to why I've taken so long to mention this, other than learning code and the rewrite, is just the whole process of this being a little nerve-wracking. The whole thought of a rewrite of something I've put so much effort into is scary, but it'll be worth it.

I'll accept any questions you've got, and I'll create an FAQ regarding all of this too. But, most importantly, you're in the loop of how this is progressing. I really appreciate everyone's kind words about this story: loving the ros, re-reading it, still sticking by my writing—it means a lot. So, thank you and I hope the future of this story is what you want and more.

PLANS.

Finish introductory scenes.

Finish chapter one.

WORD COUNT.

2.2k (rewrite)

[happy74827]

Burning Bridges

[Dexter Morgan x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Upon an incident that was out of your control, Dexter comes to the realization that it wasn't just a coincidence.

WC: 1951

Category: Slight Angst, Hurt/Comfort

I forgot how much I missed this show (him), so I decided to write another. It's been so long since I last wrote for him that I actually see the difference in my writing. It's wack.

『••✎••』

Dexter was many things… a brother, a son, a pro bowler, a serial killer… but what he lacked was being a good friend.

He didn't understand friendship or its value. It was something that he simply couldn't grasp. Sure, he was able to fake it well enough in order to make sure that people liked him and didn't find him too creepy or strange, but there was never any real emotional connection. In his mind, everyone was either someone he needed or someone he didn't need, and he would treat them accordingly. The only exceptions to this rule were his sister, Debra, and you.

The two of you had met back in college, having been assigned to be each other's partners for a group project. It was a poetry class and a course that Dexter hadn't really wanted to take, but a general education requirement and the promise of an easy A convinced him to at least show-up and suffer through it. Well, for a guy who had to fake every single aspect of his personality in order to fit in with society, it turned out that poetry didn’t come quite as easily as he thought it would.

He had always found the art form to be rather silly, with all the emphasis on metaphors and flowery language. There was no purpose or goal other than to be creative and artsy, and it bored him to no end. The first time you had sat down with him to discuss the project, you could tell how much he didn't want to be there, and the look of complete disinterest on his face as he tried to figure out what your poem meant was the most hilarious thing that you had seen in a while. You couldn't help but laugh, the sound of which made him sit up and give you a quizzical look.

"What?" He asked, tilting his head slightly, confused.

"Nothing," you replied, still giggling. "It's just that I can tell that you don't like poetry."

"Why would you think that?"

"Because you haven't said a word; you're just sitting there, staring off into space and twirling your pencil between your fingers," you told him, and he glanced down at the utensil as if he didn't realize that he was doing that.

"Oh. Sorry, I guess," he apologized, his tone making it clear that he was actually a little annoyed at having been called out on his inattentiveness.

"That's okay. I like poetry, so I'll be happy to do most of the work," you offered, smiling sweetly, and his eyebrows raised.

And that you did. In fact, you loved it so much that you majored in English and planned on getting your Masters, while Dexter got his degree in criminology. It was a nice trade-off because while he struggled in poetry, getting down into the debts of his feelings that were nonexistent, you struggled with chemistry, unable to wrap your head around the subject no matter how hard you tried.

So, the two of you had a mutually beneficial agreement. You did all the work for the poetry class, and in exchange, he tutored you in chemistry and made sure that you got a decent grade. Once the class was over and done with, the two of you stayed friends, though you had very little in common. Dexter had no interest in books, and you had no interest in criminology. He was a loner, and you had plenty of friends. You were a romantic, and he was completely unromantic. He didn't even have a girlfriend, and you had been in three different relationships over the course of the two years that you had known him.

Still, the two of you got along well enough. You were one of the only people that Dexter could actually stand for more than five minutes, and he was the same to you. So you went out to the bar sometimes, hung out with his sister, and did your best to keep him company while also doing your best to try to set him up on dates, hoping that one of these days, he'd actually find someone. It eventually did work out when you found him Rita, but as of right now, she had broken up with him, and he was back to being a lonely bachelor which it didn't bother him much until now.

You were in the hospital, your head wrapped and bandaged like a mummy. You were apparently attacked outside the grocery store, and if it wasn’t for the small instructions he had given you for self-defense, you most likely wouldn’t have survived.

At first, Dexter didn’t think of it as anything important in terms of his line of work. He believed it to be a coincidence, a random crime in the night. But it turned into something more the night he decided to visit with some cake.

“How’s the head?” He asked as he came inside, seeing you propped up reading. Of course, you were reading.

You shrugged. “Like I’m wearing a sweater hat, but it doesn't hurt, so there's that." You paused, setting down your book and glancing at him. "I’m still salty about my groceries. Almost two hundred dollars I spent on that stuff. Gone. Wasted. Poof."

Dexter had to chuckle a bit. "Hey, I can't do much about the food, but I brought you something," he said, revealing the white box.

"Is it chocolate? If it is, I love you," you joked.

"No, it's just vanilla. But, here."

He opened the lid and showed you, and you immediately lit up.

"Awww, Dexter! You are the best friend ever," you gushed, giving him a warm smile.

He smiled back. "It's the least I could do."

He was cutting it up for you when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. You didn’t seem to notice, but out in the hall, a shadow passed by the window. His body went on alert, eyes flickering towards the door. He couldn’t see much, but he could make out an elderly man with gray hair and a beard.

Dexter's face remained unchanged, though his body language betrayed him as he sat the cake knife down. He knew that look. That look in a man's eyes when he was looking at prey. This was a predator.

"Hey, uh, what was that description again? Of the man who attacked you," Dexter asked, his tone a bit distracted.

"You mean Santa Claus on drugs? That pretty much sums it up. Why?" You looked up, confused.

"I don't know. It's probably nothing."

But it was something. The man had apparently come back to finish the job, and Dexter's jaw clenched at the thought. He was already planning his death in his mind. It wouldn’t be pretty. He gave you a piece of cake, swearing that he’d be back soon before going after the man. He stopped at the lobby momentarily, informing Angel to keep an eye on you, which, of course, the cop complied with.

Angel was a good cop. He was loyal, smart, and a damn good shot. But there was one thing that made him a great cop. He cared about his city and the people in it. He would protect the innocent no matter the cost, especially when it came down to those he was closest to. He was the kind of guy who would risk his life without a second thought if it meant saving others.

This is why Dexter liked Angel and why he was the only one that he trusted with this job.

Finding the man was extremely easy on his part. Dexter already knew what the guy’s plan was, so he stuck around outside the parking lot, watching the shadows. After a few minutes, the man appeared, heading towards the entrance once again.

He never got that far.

A hand was clamped over his mouth while the other dragged him away from the double doors and towards the side of the building. Dexter didn’t pull out his knife, though, only resorting to his arms as he applied pressure against his throat. The man fought, trying to break free, but he didn't get the chance. Dexter didn’t kill him, no, not yet, but his arm was still strong, and he had no plans to let go.

“Listen closely. If you so much as look the wrong way, I will rip your heart out and shove it down your throat. Understand? Nod if you do," he threatened, his voice calm and even. The man nodded, terrified, his eyes wide.

"Good," Dexter replied, “Why are you here?"

The man was quiet, but he was breathing heavily, and his eyes were watering.

"Talk. That girl, why are you after her?"

"I’m not—”

"You attacked her, and now you came back to finish the job, did you not? Who sent you?"

The man was sweating; his face was flushed and red. Dexter was pressing too hard, and his victim was starting to lose air. He didn’t care.

"Who?" He repeated.

The man choked, unable to speak.

"Last chance. Who sent you? And don't lie to me."

The man didn’t answer, and Dexter tightened his hold. That finally did it. The man began to squirm violently, trying to break free, but it was too late. His face started to turn purple, and Dexter had to adjust his grip and pull him closer.

“It wasn’t personal! I had to! I didn't have a choice! It was just a job!" He gasped out, struggling for air. “I got paid to do it. I was just doing what I was told! Please, please, don't kill me."

"Who was it?"

"I—I don’t know. It was some lady. I met her at a bar. She didn’t give her name, but he wasn’t American. She gave me ten thousand dollars and told me that the job was to attack this chick in the parking lot and make it look like an attempted robbery. Said it had to be done in a couple of days. Listen, man, I didn't want to do it. But the money—"

"What did she look like?" Dexter cut in.

"Dark hair. Young. I don't know! I don't know, I swear. She wore sunglasses the whole time. Please, don’t kill me. Please."

Suddenly, it hit him like a ton of bricks. The Dark Passenger was roaring, the realization washing over him like cold water.

Lila.

Everything made sense now. The way she had suddenly showed up out of nowhere, the incident outside the bowling alley, her sudden interest in you. It all made sense. She was behind it. She had done it.

Dexter wanted to snap the man's neck. He wanted to rip his throat out. He wanted to take his knife and stab him over and over again, to punish him for what he had done to you, but he refrained. He had the answers he needed, and the cameras around were still running.

He dropped him and watched him collapse, gasping for air. He didn't move, too scared and in shock to do so. Dexter didn’t say a word; his anger was silent, but it was boiling beneath his skin.

He was going to kill her. He was going to hunt her down and end her, and there was no place on Earth where she could hide.

“You ever, and I mean ever, come near her again; I will tear out your spine and make you choke on it. Understand?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I understand."

Dexter didn’t say anything else; he simply walked off, his hands stuffed into his pockets. He had a lot to think about.

[4ln-stay8]

A stream full of surprises

✑ summary: you join Max for a stream that doesn’t go the way you expected to

✑ pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

✑ autor’s note: so this is my first attempt on doing this so Im really sorry if it sucks

✑ warnings: some stuff might not be accurate but its a fanfic so just pretend

You sat nervously in front of the computer, joining Max Fewtrell's Twitch stream for the first time. You and Max had become close friends fast, thanks to your secret relationship with Lando Norris. Due to you being often alone for a few weeks in a row sometimes, you and Max often hung out when Lando was busy with Formula 1 commitments.

You were often busy studying to get your masters degree. You sometimes needed to stay behind on all the fun you could have by joining Lando and travelling with him but you needed to study so you could keep your scholarship.

“Hi guys! Welcome back to the stream! Today we have a guest who will be joining us, my good friend Y/N. Say hi to her chat!” said Max starting his stream.

The stream started surprisingly well. The chat didn’t payed much attention to you at first, even tho Max made sure that your presence is known. They were very busy trying to get Max to respond to their questions. It took them about 10 minutes to actually acknowledge your presence and then the hell got loose. The chat was flying with questions about who you were and why were you there. Speculations about the relationship between you and Max, people asking where Pietra was and why were you there instead of her were all you could read.

*Chatuser: who is that?

*Chatuser: where is P?

*Chatuser: is she your new gf?

*Chatuser: why is she here?

Max, being the lovely person he is tried very politely to respond to as many questions as he could.

“Guys, as I said, this is my friend Y/n and she will be joining us for today’s stream so be nice chat”

To your surprise, the stream went pretty smoothly from then on. As you chatted and laughed on the stream, the chat kept buzzing with speculations about you and Max being more than just friends. With each new viewer the subject of who you were and what was your business with Max kept repeating over and over again. You then started to blush at the comments, unsure of how to respond.

You weren’t used to being in the spotlight, one of the reasons why you and Lando were keeping things a secret. Unlike them, you weren’t trained to respond in front of cameras, how to respond to personal questions as politely as possible without actually answering them. You were totally unprepared and in that exact moment you hated yourself for letting Max convince you to join him.

You strongly disagreed to his proposal about the stream, not even Lando could convince you to join him but after Max repeatedly asking for you to join you changed your mind and agreed to do it.

Don’t get me wrong, there was nothing you wanted more than to stream with your boyfriend. Seeing him become a chaotic storm, watching his eyes light up whenever he would get a sub or have fun. There was nothing more you wanted that to hear his loud laughs and frustrated screams whenever he was gaming. You wanted to be a part of it but you couldn’t.

You were a very shy and awkward person around strangers and knowing there were thousands of people watching you didn’t sound pleasing to you, but you wanted to change that. You wanted to become more comfortable in front of the camera so you could be all the way in, in your relationship. You wanted to be more comfortable with the fans before you would announce your relationship with Lando and join him around the world. You wanted to make sure they liked you.

Meanwhile, Lando was on his way home from the airport, having just returned from the last race weekend of the season. He got bored on the uber drive and he decided to tune into Max's stream to see what was he getting up to. He was surprised to see his girlfriend on the screen. He often tried to convince you to join him on the streams but you just didn’t agree with him. He didn’t want to push you to do it knowing how shy you can get but what he didn’t understand was why did you accepted Max’s offer instead of his. He just stood there, surprised and confused, watching in silence as the chat filled with ship names and teasing messages about you and Max.

His jealousy flared, and he couldn't help himself. When he finally arrived home, he payed the driver, quickly took his bags and he burst into the house. He left all his things by the door and ran to the room you were in. He opened the door loudly, surprising both you and Max, causing you to jump in your seat.

Lando didn't waste a moment. He quickly approached you without saying a word. When he got in front of you, he cupped your face and he leaned in and planted a passionate kiss on your lips right in front of the camera. The chat went wild, emojis and exclamation marks flooding the screen. Everyone was stunned not knowing what the hell was going on.

*Chatuser: what just happened?

*Chatuser: did lando just kissed y/n?

*Chatuser: 😱

You were petrified at first, your eyes wide as you tried to process what was happening, but then you slowly melted into the kiss, your hand finding its way to the back of Lando's neck. You missed the way his lips felt on yours, the way his hands cupped your face, his thumb slowly brushing your cheek. You were addicted to his kiss. You were addicted to him. It was a brief moment, but it felt like an eternity in front of thousands of viewers. Time just stopped whenever he was near you.

When you finally pulled apart, Lando realized what he had just done. He looked at you with wide eyes and pink cheeks as he was trying to think his next move. He chuckled nervously and helped you to your feet, settling you on his lap as he took your place in front of the camera.

"Hey, everyone," Lando began, trying to hide his embarrassment. "I guess I should explain what just happened." He glanced at you, who was still blushing furiously. You got all shy and he knew it.

“So as you most likely saw, I kissed Y/n. Well that would be scandalous in different circumstances but the truth is that Y/N and I have been dating for the past year. Well, I hope we still are after that stunt I pulled” he said chuckling and he looked at you for reassurance.

“We decided not to make it public due to the fact that Y/N gets a bit shy around strangers and I wanted to make sure that she is as comfortable as possible in this relationship.” He said giving you a small smile

The chat went crazy about all that was happening. Not only did they witness a very private and intimate moment between the two of you, but they also got to see the way Lando looked at you while he was trying to explain the situation.

*Chatuser: the way he looks at her trying to make sure she’s comfortable 😫

*Chatuser: can they be any cuter?

*Chatuser: God it’s me again…

Max was sitting quietly next to you, only making his presence known with small chuckles as he read the chat. He patiently waited for you to finish your conversation before he could actually start teasing his dear friend.

You stayed quiet as well, giving small smiles to the camera trying not to seem rude. You read the comments as well, smiling even wider as you saw how nice and accepting the fans were to you so you decided to make your presence known by teasing your boyfriend.

You leaned in and whispered to Lando, "You couldn't handle the chat teasing us, could you?"

Lando laughed, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "I guess not," he admitted. “ You know I don’t like sharing whats mine” he said playfully.

You looked at him amused and decided to keep teasing him. “I mean, Max is quite charming today I’m not gonna lie” you made a small pause looking at the way his brows frowned “…but you know I only got my eyes on you, right?

You smiled looking at him, your heart swelling with love. You just adore him in ways you didn’t even know that was possible until you met him.

He looked at you with love in his eyes, trying to memorise the way you look, and answered with a simple “I know my love! I only got my eyes on you as well” he said lovingly.

The chat continued to explode with comments, but now it was filled with hearts and messages of support for the couple. Max, who had been silently watching the whole exchange, grinned and gave them a thumbs-up.

“You know guys, if I knew I had to watch you being grossly cute again I wouldn’t have let Y/n join me” said Max earning a light slap on the shoulder from you.

“Oh shut it Max… It’s not like you don’t do the same” you said rolling your eyes giggling at how chill your friend was.

“So what are we gonna do know?” Asked Max trying to change the subject while it was still in a respectful state.

“How about you guys go play something while I’ll go find P?” You said slowly standing up from Lando’s lap ignoring his protests.

“Fine we will play something. You can go and gossip with P now but first give me a kiss” said Lando trying to look as cool as possible.

You leaned in and pecked his lips one more time before slowly walking towards the door. Lando groaned as he didn’t got the kiss he was hoping for, making you giggle.

The boys went back to the stream playing games and causing chaos as they usually do while ypu and P enjoyed some quality talks while drinking some tea.

You never would’ve thought that this would be the way the world would find out about your relationship and you definitely didn’t expect the fans to be so nice about it. At the end of the day you were really grateful that Lando did what he did knowing that you now could stop hiding your love.

[alltoomaples]

love.jpg - LN

pairing: fem!uni student x lando norris

synopsis: lando gets invested in working with cameras after you talk about your day in photography class and you two discover a new language of love <;33

type: writing + instagram au

a/n: finally writing up the very first writing for my new series until i found you. and ik i have been super super lacked in writing. you guys have no idea how much and many ideas ive got but procastination takes the most of it! im trying my best to work upon it and now that my finals are nearing, i may try to write as a stress breaker soo fingers crossed.

until next one, happy reading <;33

part 2 is out now!! check it out :))

. . . .

You came home from your last class of the semester from uni. As much as you love photography and graphic design, its definitely tiresome when being pursued as a Masters degree. But you won't complain much about it cause at the end of the day, you love what you do. And so does your boyfriend.

"Congrats on completing another semester, bubba!" Lando greets as he speed walks to you and engulfs you in a hug.

You drop your bags carefully and hug him back tight as you mourn in exhaustion. Your whole body gives up that Lando was quick to pick you up and let the both of you fall on the couch. Chuckles leave from your mouth as he leans in and kissed your forehead.

"I'm so so proud of you, Y/N/N" He says, looking into your eye, pinning your hair behind the ear as he rests his hand on your cheek.

"I haven't completed my course, Lan"

"Yet. And soon you will be my personal photographer and designer for Quadrant" Lando says very proudly.

"Well in that case, be ready to say goodbye to your bank accounts" you say, smirking at him as you squish his cheeks.

"I'll be happy to make our joint accounts"

"It's a deal then!"

. . . .

"So tell me about your project?" Lando asks as we clean dishes after dinner.

"Well, basically, we have to make a portfolio for photography class. We need to select a theme and shoot pictures showcasing that theme" you say, as you dried the final plate.

"That sounds so much fun and creative!"

"It is actually! till you finalize the theme cause that's the main brainers" you say as you place the dishes back to the shelves and lando keeps the leftovers in fridge.

"And that's what i'm here for! Let me help you with the picture and theme and stuff" Lando says, being very supportive and super excited like a kid on Christmas morning.

"Bubba, i appreciate you and your help but you'll be busy with race weekends, PR promos and Quadrant stuff. Do you really wanna squish mine on top of this busy business??" you ask, being concerned about him.

He walks over to you, grabbing your face in his and leans in.

"Let me be a part of your project. Think of me as your project buddy who also happens to be your boyfriend" Lando says, making puppy eyes which makes harder to say no to him.

"Alrighty love. You're in!"

"Wooohoooo!!! Let's goooo babyyyy!!" He does his small victory dance as he sung to HSM: we're all in this together

You laughed silently as you walked into your work room and picked up a camera. Lando eventually followed you and found you holding the camera.

"Wait- we are already starting with the work??"

"We haven't even chosen a theme, you dum dums" you say, ruffling his head which messes the small curls a bit.

"Ohh yeah. I'd suggest you to do some trial run shots, like you know, play around capturing day to day events. Maybe something will spark and voila, you'll have a theme ready!" Lando says, as he fixed his hair while looking in the mirror.

"That's actually a great idea bubs!!! I'm gonna do that now. You really do love this subject of mine, don't you??" You ask, as you really loved his input he just gave and you're quite impressed with it.

His level of creativity is something you've always loved and appreciated his talents. And isn't it just lovely to see people talk about their passions!

And this just made you think it's time to finally give him one of your passions.

"This camera is yours from today. I've been wanting to give you this as I've seen you've been very much interested in photography and something you can take along with you and remind you of me" you say, whispering at the end as you felt your cheeks heat up due to the cliché that you just happen to say which isn't a very you thing to do.

Lando stood there with the camera in his hands, in complete awe at the gesture of yours.

"Y/N! you have no idea how much this means to me!! This isn't just any camera, this is one you truly used for your good works" He says, pulling you closer to his. He makes you look up to him, leaning in close as he kisses you softly yet lovingly. Your hands make their way behind his neck, pulling him close to you.

"I love you, so much y/n/n" Lando says, almost as a whisper as he rests his nose with yours.

"and i love you, much more lan" you whisper back with a smile as you do the eskimos kiss.

. . . .

Instagram

lando.jpg

liked by carlossainz55, charlesleclerc, y/n.clicks and 3,566,962 others

landonorris: your fellow neighborhood cameraman📸

the best gift from the best <;33 y/n.clicks

view 41,06,765 comments

username1: wait Y/N gave her VERY OWN CAMERA TO LANDO!?!?

y/n.clicks: not bad for a beginner! have fun bubby🫶🏼

lando.jpg: learnt from the best ;)) will do!❤️

username2: he learnt with her?! talk about couple goals💗💖💞

charlesleclerc_: well i guess we'll say goodbye to this camera eventually. have you thought this through y/n.clicks 🤔🤔

y/n.clicks: i had a really good run with it soo if it breaks its alright, I'll get a new one 😙

lando.jpg: you two know that i can read your comments right?? hah RUDE😡

username3: i cant- 🤣🤣🤣🤣

username4: we're gonna be seeing what lando wants people to see. I LOVE IT!!!

y/n.clicks

liked by charlesleclerc_, maxfewtrell, landonorris and 1,609,992 others

y/n_l/n: handing over ceremony📷

lando 🤝 lando.jpg

tagged: landonorris

view 105,020 comments

lanndonorris: key moment of my life and career❤️

y/n.clicks: landonorris bubbaaa🥺💗

username1: i want what they have😭😭💛

carlossainz55: wow, he is growing up🥹🥹

y/n.clicks: ikr!!!🤧🤧

landonorris: you two ughhhhh🙄🙄

username2: this is sooo adorable ahhh!!

username3: thanks to y/n now we're gonna embark the cameraman lando era!

y/n.clicks: this is just the beginning of the era!!

lando.jpg

liked by ciscanorris, y/n.clicks and 2,954,755 others

landonorris: day at the bay with my bae

tagged: y/n.clicks

view 957,542 comments

username1: oh my. oH mY! OhOh MymY!!😍🤩

y/n.clicks: caption might be chessy af but the pictures, mamma mia🥵😍

liked by lando.jpg

maxfewtrell: now i get it why you ditched for golfing, you simp!

y/n.clicks: wait what!?! lando did that??

lando.jpg: 😳😳😳😳 busted?

ciscanorris: lando ditching golf?? he's soo into his cameraman era!!!🫡💗

username3: everyone say thank you y/n for getting lando a camera

username4: seriously! THANK YOU QUEEN Y/N

lando.jpg: FACTS!! thank you y/n.clicks 🫂🫶🏼

liked by y/n.clicks

y/n.clicks

liked by ciscanorris, pierregasly, olivernorris and 10,954,755 others

y/n_l/n: my favourite kind of cheese🧀 landonorris

tagged: lando.jpg

view 45,998,972 comments

username1: the caption🥹😭💖���💗✨️

username2: them>>>>>>

riabish: LOVE IS IN THE AIR🫶🏼✨️

danielricciardo: you guys are so disgustingly adorable🫡💖

landonorris: now who's the chessier one??😏😏

y/n.clicks: landonorris still YOU🫣

landonorris: 😂😂😂

. . . .

also I'm thinking for a part 2 for this, lemme know if you're interested too :))

check out my works: until i found you masterlist | other works

part 2 is out now!! check it out :))

[lab-gr0wn-lambs]

Hello! Do you have any tips on stylizing/drawing real people?? recently ive been trying to draw from my favorite shows but they either look too realistic or just not like the person at all. I love all your twd art and its really inspiring!

Omg thank you so much, it’s actually so funny you should ask this because this is exactly what I’ve been struggling with/researching for like 6 months. In fact I had an independent research project at uni that I told my prof was gonna be all about learning how to make background art for my final film project. But I got SO into learning how to stylize real people that I forgot to do the project at all and just submitted all of my walking dead fanart and stylization research and somehow got a B+ 

So strap in, you are about to get blasted with a hyperfixation that was so strong it almost lost me my bachelors degree but instead (somehow!!) got me one of the highest grades this prof gave out this semester

I’m still learning and trying to get better, this hyperfixation isn’t over it just has to be on pause because I WILL fail my final year of university if I let it take me lmao

First of all, here are my project slides (PLEASE ignore my cringe-ass writing, most of that shit was done in a panic at 5am)

this was a good leaping off point and now I know their features like the back of my hand, but they're missing a lot of character imo

"I thought highlighting his eyelashes and freckles would bring out-" blahblabla, truth is I just think he is very Eyes and his freckles are cute but I can't just be saying ''it's about the VIBES sir''

I highly recommend looking at an artist called @geitonas. They were actually my biggest inspiration in this project because personally I think they’ve mastered stylizing real people and their art is how I want my walking dead fanart to be. They know exactly which features to push and which to downplay, so if you’re familiar with the subjects you can recognize them immediately. 

But the biggest thing to note is that their features aren’t replicated exactly, they just have the right energy.

I guess my biggest advice is pick a focus feature. For Carol I think her most defining feature is her nose. It's an odd thing to say but she has very distinctive nostrils. So no matter how stylized I draw her I try to keep this feature in mind, even if everything else goes out the window

Keeping an eye on someone's unique mannerisms and facial expressions can go a long way too. Rick's squint, Michonne's stare, Daryl's scrunch...

This turned into a ramble. My thoughts were more coherent but too many of them wanted to come out all at once. Hope this was helpful anyway!

[cheeeeseburger]

Sweet like tiramisu, bitter like coffee Part 1

Part 2 Part 3

Lance Stroll x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: I don't know how I feel about this one, but I wrote it in honour of the Canadian GP! English is not my first language, apologies for the mistakes!

“Lance, I think you should call security. Look who’s here!” Your older brother pointed at you, acting like you were some kind of crazy fan who sneaked in.

You glanced at your brother “They really let you in? Even with your ugly face? It’s going to be bad for their PR, I tell you.” He only sticked his tongue out to you in response.

“Hey, kid,” Lance simply said.

You grinned at Lance, and when he smiled back, it was like you were fourteen again, trying to impress him when skiing at the Mont Tremblant, sneaking glances at him. Gosh, he still had that boyish look that used to make you stutter in front of him.

“Salut, Lance. It’s been a while” you said. He pulled you closed to give you a kiss on each cheek. He smelled like that one hoodie of his that he gave you years ago when you were cold at La Ronde. Embarrassingly, you still wear it sometimes, probably more than you should.

“I know, you’ve changed, kid. You used to be so small. I guess you grew up, huh?”

To prove his point, you gave him a little spin, with your sundress flowing around your thighs. Lance looked at you up and down, noticing that you had grew in all the right places. He flushed a little.

“I guess I did,” you answered, looking right into his eyes. For once, it was him who seemed more affected by your interaction. Your cheeks were only coloured a light pink, a clear amelioration from the tomato look you used to rock whenever you talked to Lance.

Your brother put a stop to the moment you two shared. “Alright, quit showing off. She is still the same as before, only without the braces. Don’t be fooled, Lance, she is still an airhead.” You smacked him on the arm.  “An airhead with a uni degree, dumbass. You’re a college dropout.”

That was a low blow, but still, your brother deserved it. You got a middle finger in response. Lance chuckled, seeing that you hadn’t changed completely.

“You’re still as quick as you were before, kid,” he said, laughing. “What’s your degree in? Engineering, right?”

“Yeah, I just graduated in mechanical engineering. But I’m starting my master in the fall, at McGill.”

He looked impressed at your degree and at the famous Montreal school you attended. “Damn kid, you’re not the type to take it easy, huh? Unlike your lazy ass brother over there.” He lightly punched him on his arm. Your brother pretended to be offended. “Come on guys, do I really deserve all this verbal abuse?”

He saw you laugh, and decided he could not let that slide. “You, shut up, or I’ll tell Lance you had his picture in your locker in high school.”

You gasped. Oh no he didn’t.

Lance laughed, blushing a little. “That’s cute. What about college? Do you have a picture of me at McGill?” He looked way too smug.

This was bad. Very bad. Still, was he just flirting with you?

At the same time, his father entered the paddock. You jumped at the opportunity to change the subject.

“Lawrence, mon Stroll préféré!” You smiled at him. The older man opened his arm to give you a hug.

“Mon sucre d’orge, how are you?” He always had the best hug, making you feel safe and loved.

Lawrence Stroll was like an uncle to you, a father even. Your family and the Stroll family were very close, and you grew up side by side with the Stroll children, even though you were a few years younger than them. You went skiing together during the winter break. You went on vacations together. Your summers were filled with meals at each other house, and you ended up begging to sleepover every single time. To this day, the smell of chlorine always takes you back to endless afternoons spent playing in the pool at the Stroll house.

“I’m doing great, I’m happy to be here!” you replied. You had seen the man only a few weeks earlier, at your graduation dinner, so there wasn’t much catching up to do.

Lawrence exclaimed: “Mon sucre d’orge, you should be at every races! After you finish your master, you should work for us!”

You beamed at the man: “I would like that very much.” It’s true, you would love it. And you had the degree for it.

“So would I. And I wouldn’t be the only one,” he added in a whisper, gesturing towards Lance.

You turned a deep shade of red. Typical you. Lawrence always knew you had a thing for his son. Luckily, Lance did not look like he had heard what his father just said. If he did, you’d have to leave Montreal to live in a country where there are no races.

You brother shook hands with Lawrence, talking for a while. You listened with one ear, too busy sneaking glances at Lance. He was doing the same thing, admiring the silhouette that your dress gave you, the way your hair was framing your face, your slightly parted lips. He surprised himself and started daydreaming about how it would feel to push you against the wall, lifting one of your legs while he stunned you with kisses all over your face.

Lance was pulled out of his fantasy when your brother said it was time to go.

“Bonne chance, Lance,” you wished him good luck shyly, then followed your brother out of the paddock. Oh, your massive crush was so back.

He watched you leave, mesmerized by you, your presence, the way you carry yourself. You were no longer an awkward teen, but a beautiful young woman.

“Poor girl. You know she had a crush on you for years, right? Good on her for moving on.” Lawrence said to his son, sighing. “She really has a heart of gold, and she’s way too bright for her own good. The man who will have her heart will be a lucky man. A very lucky man indeed.”

Later during the day, you received a message from Lance. This was unusual. The last time he had texted you was to wish you a happy birthday three months ago.

Hey kid, it’s me.

You replied quickly, not wanting to bother with pretending to be too busy to answer. When it came to Lance, you were too weak to play hard to get. Also, this afternoon was the first time he had shown signs that he did not see you as your brother's sister, but as a pretty girl. You would be a fool not to jump at the opportunity, if the opportunity came.

Hi, what’s up?

Have you eaten yet?

Yeah, why?

Let me bring you some desert.

What???

Text me your address. Nvm I got it.

Lance, what’s going on?

He didn’t answer after that. Realizing that he was probably on his way, you started tidying up your appartement. It was pretty neat already though, so you mostly did it to distract you. From the corner of your eye, you saw his hoodie and quickly threw it in your wardrobe. If he did come to your place, this was the kind of things that he should not see, like your F1 calendar from last year that was still hung up to the month of January, because he was the picture of the month. But why the hell would Lance show up at your door?

A knock on the door made you jump. You opened it to find Lance on your doorstep, carrying a bag.

“Hey, I brought you a sweet treat”, he announced, letting himself in. You were too shocked to speak. Chat, is this real? He noticed your appearance. You were wearing a silk nightgown. “Are you ready for bed already?” he asked, confused.

Finally, he seemed real enough for you to gain back the ability to speak.

“Uhhh, yeah?”

“What are you, 90? It’s not even 9 yet!”

“So what? I like to be comfortable,” you responded, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

He stared at you and your short nightgown, letting his gaze linger on the sight that was the strap sliding of your left shoulder. He wanted to leave a kiss on that exact spot.

“No, no, you’re good, I just expected you to be ready to go out or something,” he said laughing, while walking in your apartment. “You got a nice place.”

“Thanks,” you replied. “Why did you expect me to go out?” You followed him around in your apartment. It was weird to see him there, but he looked so good in his Boss hoodie that you let it slide for now.

“Gee, uh, I don’t know, maybe because it’s a Thursday night and you’re young and in Montreal?” he answered like you had asked the dumbest question. He finally settled in your kitchen, leaving the box he was carrying on the counter. “Where are your plates?”

“Over here,” you opened the cabinet door at the same time he made a move to grab the doorknob, leaving him towering over you. The last time the two of you had been so close was before puberty. Internally, you were screaming. He grabbed two plates.

“What did you bring? And what are you doing here?” you asked, trying to hide the affect that his proximity had on you. “And I do go out, sometimes.”

“Having dinner with my dad and your parents doesn’t count. I bought you your favourite tiramisu, from that Italian restaurant you always dragged us to when we were kids.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Don’t worry, I do go out to shake my ass.” He raised an eyebrow at that, his eyes widening a little. You hoped he was imagining you in a tight dress, dancing in the club. You got out two spoons and a knife out of your cutlery drawer. “Thanks for the sweet treat, but why though?”

Lance opened the box to reveal a gorgeous tiramisu. He was right, this dessert really was your favourite, specifically the recipe they used at this restaurant. You both sat on the stools hidden underneath your countertop. “Can’t a guy do something nice?” he said sarcastically.

You looked at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Lance, come on, be for real. We haven’t seen each other in years, then you show up unannounced at my place.” You cut the dessert and placed it on your respective plates.

He put his hand in the air: “What! I have no bad intentions, I swear. I just thought you could use some sugar.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. Against your wish, you let out a small moan as you took your first bite out of the tiramisu. It really was that good. You turned beet red and surprisingly, so did he. Cute.

“Lance, you know I used to have a crush on you, right? But that was years ago, so if you expect me to fall at your feet and sleep with you, you’re in the wrong place, buddy.” This was a lie. He could have you anywhere he wanted, and you would say thank you.

His eyes shuttered a little when he took his first bite. “I’m flattered that you used to have a crush on me, but also a little insulted. How come you don’t have one right now? And is your opinion of me so low that you believe I could really use you like that?” He really did look insulted.

You took another bite of the tiramisu, this time fulling embracing the moan coming out of your mouth. He looked positively flushed now.

“Lance, I saw the way you looked at me earlier. It was like you finally realized I was a grown woman now.”

He took a bite, and he let his head fall back a little. So two can play this game. You were feeling hot all over. It was like a tennis match between the two of you, a duel. All of this over a sweet treat.

“It’s true that you made quite the impression on me earlier. It must be the lack of braces,” he said sarcastically.

You made a show of licking your spoon when you finished your portion. He looked jealous of the spoon.The ball is in your court, sir.

“Oh really? It wasn’t my curves that my dress showed off nicely, or how long my legs looked with those heels? It’s weird, every other guy there seemed to notice my body. I even got the number of an engineer. I think I’m going to go out with him, I might even sleep with him, all that good stuff.” The look on his face was priceless.

It seems you had won this round. He didn’t touch his tiramisu, only bit his bottom lip. He was blushing hard but wanted to maintain his poker face.

“None of these things crossed my mind,” he answered, though it was a very obviously fake answer. He seemed to be having trouble breathing. It was very good for your ego. If your seventeen years old self could see you right now, she’d be proud.

You hit him with quite the shot when you picked up some tiramisu with your spoon off his plate. The simple gesture had quite the effect on him. His gaze followed your spoon from his plate to your mouth. In your face, sir.

“That’s too bad. I wanted you to notice them,” you said innocently.

He did not take this shot well, and immediately went into attack mode. He pulled your stool closer to his and started massaging your calf. He was not playing anymore.

“Don’t worry, kid, I can see them very clearly now.” He stared at you and the generous cleavage your nightdress gave you. The innuendo in his eyes was very clear. You could cut the tension in the room with the same knife you had cut the dessert with.

You moaned softly. This time, it had nothing to do with the tiramisu, and everything to do with the way his hand was slowly getting higher and higher on your leg. Yeah, it was over. He definitely won the match.

You looked at his eyes, which were now a nice shade of bedroom eyes. You felt all the hesitation you had leave your body, and so did your judgement.

“Lance. I really want to have sex with you right now.” How embarrassing to say this out loud. But it wasn't your fault, really. His face and the tiramisu were a deadly combo.

He smirked at your admission. “I thought you said I shouldn’t expect to sleep with you earlier.”

You responded quickly. “Screw what I said. Wait, no, screw me instead,” you leaned from your stool to pull his hoodie off.

He let you take it off, but he was wearing a shirt underneath. He smirked. “In a hurry?”

“Yeah, and for a guy that drives fast for a living, you’re slow as hell.” He laughed at that, and you took off his shirt too. It was sight to be seen. Niagara Falls is nothing compared to Lance Stroll shirtless. He should be on Canadian postcards instead of Lake Louise.

“Don’t worry kid, I can go fast if need be.” You were getting very turned on, and he had not even made a move yet. “So that means you’ll sleep with me?” You leaned to give him kisses all over his neck. 10 years of wanting him made you desperate like that. He shivered at your touch, and he felt your smile against his neck. How flattering to get a reaction out of him. He gently lifted you off your stool and picked up you like a doll so you could sit on his lap. You immediately resumed your activity and went back to kiss his neck, occasionally leaving a mark.

“You seem to want it so bad, and I wouldn’t want to disappoint you. Our friendship means the world to me,” he said, teasing you.

“Uh uh. Can we add “with benefits” to the title of our friendship? Because I really want to get to the benefits right now.” You said in between hickeys. He was holding your waist to keep you close. How you both fitted on that tiny little stool, you had no idea, but this stool was now considered blessed in your mind.

“Since you asked so nicely. Your brother told me you had a boyfriend though.” His grip on you tightened.

“He’s not my boyfriend, and I don’t care about him. He’s probably in a bar somewhere, talking to other women, which is fine, since we are not together.” It was his turn to give you attention. He made a trail of kisses all over your neck and jaw, stopping near the corner of your mouth.

“That’s good. Do you have sex with him sometimes?” he asked possessively, which was very unlike him. Lance had never shown an interest in you, and he now wanted to know who you were sleeping with.

“Yeah.” It’s hard to form complete sentences when your crush of the last 10 years is busy leaving marks all over your neck.

“Is he any good to you?” He stopped to look you in the eyes, but kept you distracted by playing with the strap of your nightdress.

“I guess. But I hope you will change my opinion of what is good sex and what is bad sex.” You put your hands behind his neck and started kissing him. It quickly turned into a make out session. He tasted like tiramisu. This was an Oscar worthy kiss. A painting should be made to commemorate the moment. A page in history books should be dedicated to it. Still kissing you, Lance stood up and lifted you with him.

“Where’s your bedroom?” You must have done something good recently. You felt like one of God’s favourites.

You did not sound like yourself when you answered, “The next door to your right.” It was a very surreal moment. He opened the door and gently put you down on your bed. He was standing up, shirtless, and it looked a lot like the teenage fantasy of him you had for years.

Your hair was spread all over the pillow, and your nightdress had ridden up. Playboy magazine would have loved you back in the days. “You’re gorgeous. You look like an angel,” Lance said. “How come I’ve never noticed it before?”

You blushed. “You were too busy thinking of me as a sister.” Your propped yourself on your elbows to get a better look at him. The sight took your breath away. “Don’t move, I’m taking a mental picture of you. You look so fucking hot right now.”

It was his turn to blush. “Thanks.” He pulled you by your ankles so you could sit on the edge of the bed. He then got on his knees, and ladies and gents, that nearly did it for you. You felt very, very hot. His hand slid under your nightdress so he could take of your underwear. It was hard to remember to breathe.

“Gosh, are we in porn movie or something? No guy has ever gotten on his knees for me before, but they sure as hell expect me to.” You said, laughing in embarrassment at your lack of experience.

“Boys are stupid.” All of Montreal probably heard you when he first touched you with his tongue. It was too much: his touch, the sight of him between your thighs, the grunts he made, you had to grip the sheets to stay still. By the noises he made, he seemed to enjoy himself too.

It took an embarrassing short amount of time for you to shake and scream in pleasure. No guy had ever made you come so quickly, and it had never felt as good. Sadly, it would probably never feel so good ever again. He got out from your nightdress and smirked when he saw you panting.

“You’re the one out of breath, huh?” He licked his lips, and you nearly came again.

“Shut up” was all you had to say. Lance laughed: “Real mature.” He once again took you by the ankles, this time to push you back to the center of the bed. He got on top of you.

“Is this the part where you get inside of me?” He smiled. “You’re so eager. It’s cute. The Aston Martin cap you have is cute too,” he said, referencing the baseball cap on your dresser.

“It’s for Alonso,” you replied, blushing. Lance smirked and whispered in your ear “Yeah, right.” He started kissing your jawline. The whole block probably heard you moaning. Having him on top of you felt so good. Your nails were probably hurting him from how hard you were gripping his back, but he didn’t complain. “Too bad it’s not him in your bed right now.” You shut him up with a kiss.

“Please, Lance, you have to get in me,” you whined. You unzipped his pants and palmed him. “Please, please, please.” He was making pained noises too, and he got out a condom from his pocket. So he had come to your place expecting to get laid. You decided to put the thought aside for now.

You stopped thinking anyway the second he got inside of you. The feeling was nearly overwhelming, and every time he moved, you couldn’t help but moan.

“Lance, goddam, why didn’t we do this earlier?” you asked between screams. He seemed pleased. You arched your back and it was his turn to let out grunts. “Well, we’re doing it now,” he sounded in pain.

“You’re going to ruin me for every other guy”, you complained. Not long after, Montreal heard you scream his name as you came undone for the second time that evening. He copied you a short while later. Both of you were panting, too stunned by what just happened. It was definitely the best sex of your life, but you were too shy to ask him if it was any good. You hoped it was.

You were just about to ask him if he wanted to spend the night when he suddenly got up.

“What are you doing?” you asked, confused. He pulled his pants back up and zipped them. “I gotta go. Don’t tell anyone we did this.” You pulled yourself to sit against your headboard. You wanted to cry. “Are you serious?”

All he said was: “Yeah, I am. I’ll see you around.” And he left, leaving you speechless in the bed where he just had you. When you heard the door close on his way out, you broke down in tears. How could he be so cruel? He had just used you, ruining years of friendship for this. You felt hurt and humiliated.

After a few minutes of crying hysterically, you suddenly could not stand having his smell on your sheets. It was nearly midnight, but you started ripping them off your bed, and you threw them in the washing machine. There were signs of his passage everywhere in your apartment, and it hurt too bad. You started cleaning manically, from scrubbing the floor to washing your entire silverware. After, it was you who needed to be rid of him. His touch lingered on your skin. You scrubbed your skin until it turned red and shampooed your hair about 5 times. As expected, you broke down crying in the shower. Lance was your friend; he had been since you were kids. Did none of that matter? Were you just a quick fuck to him? A one-night stand that did not even last a night?

You didn’t recognize him. He was such a kind soul. How could you ever face him again? And the fact that he asked you to not tell anyone? The worst thing is, you knew you would never tell anyone, because the humiliation would be too bad.

Eventually, you passed out in exhaustion on the couch. You had to attend the whole weekend, otherwise it would be suspicious, since people expected you to be there. You put on your best dresses, your brave face and you showed up Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. You talked with Lawrence, hanged out with your brother and some friends, you even made small talk with some of the drivers. Your heart hurt like a bitch the whole time, but at least you managed to avoid Lance. That engineer who gave you his number came to see you again, and you made plans for later in the week. Any distraction was welcome.

By the late afternoon on Sunday, you had had enough. You felt tired, heartsick and exhausted after a weekend of fake smiling. Leaving was the only thing you wanted to do. Perhaps you should book a vacation, give your heart a break. Or at least get extremely drunk with your friends. Maybe do both.

You were hiding in a corner, waiting for your brother when a shadow appeared. It was Lance, of course, towering over you. Immediately, your heart started beating fast. Stupid heart. His hair was all ruffled and he was sweating lightly. He had the same look when he was on his knees for you.

“Hey, kid,” he sounded so casual, like nothing had happened between the two of you, like he didn’t have half of your heart.

“Allô. Good job on the race today.” You hoped your voice was not trembling. You did not even attempt to look at him in the eyes, afraid of revealing your pain. The guy you had liked for years made you feel wanted then crushed you in a matter of hours. Of course, that didn’t seem to matter to him.

He put his hand under your chin to force you to look at him, then caressed your cheek with his thumb. “Thanks. Listen, I hope you did not expect anything more than what we did last night. I’m leaving Montreal soon anyway.” Tears started to sting your eyes, but you tried your best to hide them, but Lance was not a fool.

“Not at all. This was just a one-time thing.” You smiled, but tears were running down your cheeks. He wiped them away with his thumb.

“You’re cute when you lie. I’ll see you around.” Lance kissed your cheek, then left you in shock, hiding in the corner. His gaze did not betray any sign of regrets. Your heart was shattered in million tiny pieces that he could crush between two fingers. It was cut into bite-size pieces that he could eat, like that damn tiramisu.

That night, you went home and tried to drown any thoughts of him with ice cream and sad music. It did not work.

A few glasses of wine in, your phone buzzed. It was the man of the hour.

I’ll be at your place in 10.

Against your better judgement, you opened the door to him in your cutest nightdress with mascara tears running down your face. He didn’t bother with tiramisu this time. Nor did he the next time. And the next time.

To be used by him was better than not having him at all.

[viesantewrites]

𝐈𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬

Robert Fischer (Inception) x Reader

summary: This story explores Robert's personality and describes how he met his wife (the reader) who helps him through his emotional struggles.

English isn't my first language so I apologise in advance for any mistakes

word count: 3500+

masterlist

Only the quiet ticking of the clock on the side table and the soft scratching of a pen on paper filled the room. Robert exhaled slowly and looked at his hands in silence.

"You went through a lot in your childhood, Mr. Fischer." The lady sitting opposite him in a dark blue armchair looked at him compassionately over the rim of her glasses.

"Yes, that’s true, madam."

He had told her everything. Everything that had happened in his childhood. It was a strange feeling to open up like that to a stranger, but that was why he was here.

"And you really feel that you were never enough for your father?" his therapist asked.

"I've never done right in his eyes. My grades were never good enough, he called me lazy, and he always accused me of living off his money." Robert sniffled softly. It was very hard for him to talk about all this.

The lady looked carefully at the clipboard in front of her. "But if I read this correctly, you're anything but lazy, Mr. Fischer. You have a master's degree in business administration and engineering and have completed further training in energy management. You're a department head at the energy company Fischer Morrow, and even the deputy CEO."

Robert bit his lower lip. "I know," he said quietly. "But it’s still not enough for my father."

"If I understand correctly, your father is the CEO of the company, is that right?" she asked.

He nodded. "Well, he still is. He's almost 67 years old, and his health is very poor."

The lady looked at him thoughtfully. "Oh, are you going to take over the company completely?"

"I don't know if I'm up to such a big job."

"Of course you are, Mr. Fischer. You underestimate yourself far too much." The therapist leafed through her files. "Let's move on to another subject. What about other people who are close to you? You're married, aren't you?"

A small smile appeared on his face as she mentioned his wife. "That's right. About a year now. We got married last August."

"Do you have any children together?"

"No," he replied immediately. "But I have a daughter with my ex-wife."

She looked at Robert with interest and put the clipboard on her lap. "So this is your second marriage."

He nodded slightly. "My ex-wife and I were married for nearly eight years. Suddenly it was over so quickly. She... she left me for another man."

The woman wrote something on the clipboard. "I'm very sorry, Mr. Fischer. Something like that can also affect you mentally."

"But my current wife is different... She's just wonderful." The therapist noticed how his eyes immediately lit up when he talked about her. "She is an incredibly warm and loving person. I've never felt so accepted and loved in my whole life as I do with her. And she's absolutely beautiful."

She smiled a little. "That’s wonderful, I'm really happy for you."

Robert looked thoughtfully out of the window. "But sometimes I can't believe why she's with me. There are so many other men around who are better than me."

"Maybe because you're a really nice, intelligent and attractive man and she loves you."

Robert's cheeks turned slightly pink after she said that. "I don't know why anyone would love me."

The therapist exhaled slightly and adjusted her glasses. "I can see you've got a lot to work through. You have quite low self-esteem. I'm afraid we're going to need a few more sessions. Mr. Fischer, do you think your wife would mind if we had a talk? I'd like to hear her point of view."

Robert shrugged a little. "No. I think that can be arranged. I'll ask her when I get home."

"This would be wonderful. Just let me know when she's free, you have my phone number." She smiled kindly at him.

And Robert got up from his chair. "I'll do that. See you then."

"Goodbye, Mr. Fischer."

***

She looked curiously at the young woman sitting in front of her. She was a couple of years younger than Mr. Fischer, had long hair and was wearing a beige blazer.

"How nice of you to come, Mrs Fischer." She smiled politely at her. "Your husband told me a lot about you."

YN laughed a little and crossed her legs. "Well, hopefully only good things."

"Don’t worry, he's raving about you."

YN ran her fingers through her hair. "You know... I've never talked to anyone like you before, I have to admit I'm a bit nervous."

"Oh, you don’t have to be. You can tell me anything. And if there's something you don't want your husband to know, then that stays between us."

"I have nothing to hide from him." She laughed a little and played with her necklace. A gift from Robert for their anniversary. A little 24-karat gold heart pendant.

The therapist also laughed and pinned a new blank page to her clipboard. "That's a very good sign." She cleared her throat and leaned back a little in her chair. "Right, let's get started. Your name is YN Fischer. You were born in Bristol, UK, and moved to Australia when you were six years old."

YN nodded.

"You married Mr Robert Michael Fischer in August last year and live together with him in Sydney. You know that he has some problems with himself as a result of his childhood and his, shall we say, troubled relationship with his father. Unfortunately, I can't talk to his father because he's in the hospital and very ill. That's why I wanted to talk to someone else in his life. The person who is probably closest to him—you, Mrs Fischer. My question to you now is: how do you perceive your husband? What do you think of him? Please be honest, you are not being judged for anything."

YN let out a short breath and sat up a little in her chair. She looked thoughtfully at her red-painted fingernails.

"Well, I think I can say that Robert is the best thing that's ever happened to me."

The therapist immediately began making notes on her clipboard.

"He's wonderful, intelligent, funny... And he’s always there for me. I can't believe a man like him married me."

With an interested look, the therapist lowered her pen and rubbed her chin. "That's exactly what your husband said about you, Mrs Fischer. Very interesting..."

She looked at her with a smile. "Really? He said that?"

"Yes, he did. But go on."

"Well... Robert has always been someone I looked up to. He always seemed so unattainable to me. He's incredibly intelligent and educated. I met him when I worked in his and his father's company. Almost every woman was secretly in love with him, but at the time he was still married to his ex-wife. I know it all sounds strange because he was sort of my boss. But I only had a romantic relationship with him after he got divorced and after I stopped working at Fischer Morrow."

"That sounds very interesting. Please tell me more about how you met him," the therapist told her.

YN closed her eyes and was silent for a moment. In her mind's eye, she saw the long corridors of Fischer Morrow. It all seemed so real again.

***

"Here's a list of all the tasks you have to do today," YN's new colleague handed her a piece of paper. She glanced at it, her eyebrows rising in surprise as she noticed every inch of the paper covered with tasks. "Wow, Ariane, that’s a lot. It‘s only my fourth day."

"Oh no, I’m pretty sure that you can do this," Ariane said. "The first person to arrive is MrRichard Lambert at 9:30 am. He has a job interview with Mr Fineman from Human Resources. You meet him at reception and take him to room 015, where Mr Fineman is waiting. Be friendly, smile a lot, it's very important. At 10:30 am, room 461 in the headquarters is free. An important meeting is taking place there between Maurice Fischer, his son Robert Fischer, and some representatives of the Ministry of the Environment. If I've understood correctly, it's about adjusting the emission limits for pollutants."

YN looked tiredly at the page in front of her and shrugged. "That doesn’t sound very interesting."

"You don't have to join the conversation, YN. You just have to prepare the conference room. I've already ordered the catering; it'll be delivered around 10:40 am. You put the drinks and sandwiches on the small side table. Put the coffee pot in the middle of the table. Then wait for the Fischers to arrive. It's best to offer the coffee to them personally. And remember to always be friendly; this is the CEO and his deputy, okay?"

YN looked at her colleague, a little overwhelmed. "My head is spinning, to be honest. I've already forgotten half of what you just told me."

"That's why I wrote it all down for you. You can do this, YN. And if something goes wrong, it's not the end of the world. You just have to be careful with Fischer Senior. He's a bit... strict." She gave her a meaningful look.

"This could be fun," YN sighed ironically and folded her arms across her chest.

"If there's anything, you can always call me. You know my extension." Ariane finally changed the subject. "What kind of training do you have, if I may ask?"

"Me?" YN laughed. "I'm a hairdresser. I don't really have anything to do with all that office stuff. I just wanted to try something new. Maybe I'll like it."

"So, a career changer, how interesting. But you'll manage, I'm quite confident."

At that moment, one of the glass doors opened, and a man in a formal black suit entered the corridor. He was slim, with perfectly styled dark brown hair, high cheekbones, sharp features, and bright blue eyes. His long coat hung loosely over his shoulders, and he typed absently on his phone. He was very attractive. If they hadn't been in the corridors of Fischer Morrow, YN would have mistaken him for a high-fashion model from Yves Saint Laurent or another well-known luxury brand.

"Who's that?" she whispered to Ariane, who was a little startled and looked at YN with wide eyes when she saw the man. "That's Robert Fischer! Don’t forget to greet him!"

"Good morning, Mr Fischer." Ariane gave him her best smile as he passed them, and YN did the same.

"Good morning, ladies," he greeted them politely, turning his attention back to the phone in his hands.

When he was out of earshot, YN started to giggle. "He looks gorgeous. I pictured a nerd when you told me about him."

"Yes, he’s really handsome." Ariane sighed a little. "He's really nice too, unlike his father."

YN was silent for a moment and then cleared her throat a little. "Is he... you know... single?"

Ariane looked at her colleague as if she had just said something completely stupid. "Are you crazy? A man like him? Of course not. Every woman here secretly fancies him. But he's been married for years."

YN bit her lower lip. "Just asking."

"I think you should go now. You have a busy schedule and the first visitors will arrive soon."

YN finally nodded, folded the piece of paper with the notes, and put it in her handbag before saying goodbye to Ariane and walking on her high heels to the lifts.

YN nervously brushed the sleeve of her blouse across her forehead. Everything had gone well so far. The man who was invited to the interview had arrived on time, and she had taken him to Fineman, the human resources manager, who had been very friendly to her and had thanked her almost five times.

She had then rushed to the car park outside the building, where the catering for the meeting had just arrived, and had taken it to the conference room, which she had fortunately found straight away. Then she had prepared everything as Ariane had explained.

She stood there a little breathlessly, her arms crossed behind her back, with a friendly smile on her face, waiting for the participants to arrive. Finally, the Fischers approached the meeting room.

"Good morning, ma'am, thank you for preparing everything for our meeting," Robert Fischer greeted her with a friendly smile and held out his hand. Trembling, YN took it and looked at him shyly. His fingers felt unbelievably soft, and she lost herself in his bright blue eyes for a second. "What's your name?" His deep voice cut through YN's thoughts, bringing her back to reality.

"YN... Y/LN..." she mumbled, struggling to articulate her own name.

"My name is Robert Fischer. Very nice to meet you."

"There's no need to thank her, Robert. This woman does her job and gets paid for it." Suddenly, a loud voice echoed from behind them, causing Robert to release her hand.

"Dad, please don't say such things." Robert gave her an apologetic look and then walked away to talk to his father. As far as YN had heard, it was about some energy guidelines or something like that.

She stood next to them, a little lost, while she greeted the arriving participants of the meeting. Eventually, her eyes fell on the coffee pot on the table. Wait, hadn't Ariane told her to serve the coffee to the Fischers?

She hurried towards them. "Coffee, gentlemen?" she asked, forcing a smile.

"Yes, ma'am, I would love some," Robert Fischer looked at her gratefully.

"With sugar," his father grumbled next to him, flicking through his papers.

YN quickly grabbed the two cups.

"You have nice legs," Maurice Fischer said suddenly, and YN flinched a little, wishing she had worn a longer skirt this morning.

"Dad!" his son interrupted him immediately, looking at him in shock.

"But Robert, I'm right, aren't I?" The older man grinned.

YN pretended she hadn't heard what he said and forced herself to smile again, even though her hands were slightly shaking and sweaty. She nervously poured the hot coffee into the cup and was about to hand it to Robert Fischer when the cup slipped out of her hand.

At that moment, everything happened in slow motion. YN's hand reaching into the void as she tried to catch the cup, the shocked faces of the two men in front of her, and Maurice Fischer, who quickly tried to get his documents to safety. But it was too late. A huge dark brown stain spread across the table, sparing all the important documents.

"Are you crazy?" The angry voice echoed through the room, and she stared into Maurice Fischer's angry face, which was slowly turning red. She felt the eyes of the others in the room on her.

"I'm so sorry, sir... Are you okay? Did the coffee scald you?" She felt tears well up in her eyes, and her vision blurred a little.

Suddenly, a hand rested protectively on her arm, and she looked up in surprise as she realized it was Robert Fischer's. "We're fine; luckily, the coffee only landed on the table."

"Luckily, Robert? All the documents are ruined!"

"Dad, it's not that bad. The most important thing is that no one is hurt and has to go to the hospital."

"She can't even serve coffee! Why did Fineman even hire her? Just because she's pretty?"

Without another word, YN grabbed a cloth lying next to her, wiped the table, dabbed the documents as best she could, looked back at the two men, and muttered, "I'm so sorry," before turning and leaving the room.

She blinked the tears away quickly. She wouldn't cry now. She wouldn't shed a single tear for this company and especially not for this dumb idiot. Sighing, she leaned against the wall and rubbed her forehead.

Of course, it was her fault, but if that old man hadn't said those stupid things, she wouldn't have been so upset, and none of this would have happened.

Suddenly, she remembered Robert Fischer's hand on her arm, and her heart immediately warmed. He had been so incredibly kind to her. How could such a disgusting man have such a kind and lovely son? "Miss YLN!" a familiar voice suddenly sounded behind her.

Confused, she turned and looked straight into two bright blue eyes. "I'm so sorry for the way my father reacted. I keep telling him to stop, but he won't listen."

"It's okay," YN said, smiling a little.

"It's really not that bad what happened. There weren't any original documents on the table, just copies. I think the shock was more than the damage itself." As Robert ran his hand through his hair, a loose strand fell onto his forehead. It looked kind of cute, YN thought. "You don't have to worry about him kicking you out. I'll talk to him later."

YN held her breath for a moment and shook her head. "That's really very kind of you, sir... But I think I'll be leaving. This job isn't for me. I wanted to try something else, and I did, only to find that my old job is what makes me happy after all. But thank you for everything. You've been so kind to me."

He lowered his hand and nodded slowly at her. "I'm sorry, of course, but I won't stand in your way. I wish you all the best in your future."

She closed her eyes for a short moment. "I wish you the same, Mr Fischer. I wish you the same."

***

YN blinked slowly and let out a deep breath. The words had left her mouth as if on their own and her listener seemed totally captivated by the story.

"So you've left Fischer Morrow and returned to your old job as a hairdresser?" the therapist asked.

"Yes," YN said. "I did."

"And how did he become your husband?" she wanted to know.

"Since that day, I've never been able to get him out of my mind. I've always tried to block him out... But it's like he's always been in my heart."

The therapist nodded slowly and tore a sheet of paper full of notes from her clipboard.

"Fate has brought us together. Robert doesn't believe in fate, but I do. Especially since that day." Thoughtfully, she leaned back in her chair.

"About eight months later, I was shopping alone in the mall when I saw Robert standing in front of a fashion store. At first, I thought about just walking on and pretending I hadn't seen him, afraid he'd still be mad at me for quitting Fischer Morrow. But then I decided to talk to him."

The therapist nodded and folded her hands in her lap.

"He was happy to see me and asked me how I was doing in my new job. I noticed immediately that he wasn't wearing a wedding ring anymore, but I tried to ignore it. We chatted for quite a while, and everything seemed so relaxed. Maybe it was because he was no longer my boss. Eventually, I asked him what he was looking for in the mall, and he replied that he wanted to buy some new shirts and suits, but he didn't know what would suit him, since he divorced his wife who helped him choosing his outfits. YN suddenly stopped and started to laugh.

The therapist looked at her questioningly. "And then what happened?"

"Then I told him that I had an eye for stuff like that and that I could help him. And he said yes," YN closed her eyes again. Her heart beat faster at the thought. "We started seeing each other more and became closer, and our relationship developed naturally from there. He needed someone to believe in him, to remind of his worth. And I wanted to be that person for him. When Robert's father found out that we were a couple, he wasn't happy at all. I think he was still angry with me after all this time. He also called me stupid and uneducated because I never went to university."

"And... What did your husband say?"

YN smiled a little. "Of course, it affected me. But Robert told me that a degree says nothing about you as a person. He believed that true intelligence lies in passion and determination".

She paused, listening to the gentle ticking of the clock. "We got married last summer. Robert's father didn't come to the wedding. To be honest, I was glad. We spent our honeymoon in Hawaii, and it was the best time of my life. Robert is an incredibly wonderful person, and I'm lucky to have him in my life. Only this man who still has the nerve to call himself his father has completely destroyed his self-image."

YN slowly rose from her chair and straightened her jacket. "I'm done now."

The therapist smiled at her as she said goodbye and placed the clipboard next to her. "Thank you for your trust, Mrs Fischer."

"You're welcome, madam."

***

thank you for reading🤍

[ladyinbooks]

also I'm really sorry if it's too personal a question but what did you study in college? you're amazing at writing diplomacy and the world building seems like a gift of reading many history books. any particular research you think would be extremely interesting for your readers?

No, not too personal a question, and I'm very happy to ramble about this! 😊

The short answer is: I studied Classics at university. The longer answer (related to how it impacts on my writing) I have popped behind the cut, because honestly your question really got me thinking, and this ended up being very long!

So as I said, I studied Classics. I was lucky enough to be accepted to an absolutely brilliant university, with a phenomenal Classics department and amazing professors. They encouraged you to pursue the subject areas that interested you, and the degree was a fantastic way to narrow down a specialism from a broad area, to your dedicated topics, with a view to you becoming a potential expert in that area.

In short: I started off with Greeks, Romans and Persians, and by my third year I was specialising in ancient Greece, with a specific focus on the Classical and Hellenistic periods (with a particular interest in Alexander the Great). (I was also having a love affair with the Bronze Age on the side, because you can pry Homer from my ravenous, sticky fingers.)

When I read your question, I must admit I had a lightbulb moment, where I went 'Oh yeah! That's where all the politicking comes from!', because I honestly hadn't stopped to actually think about the influences my studies may - or may not - have had on my fiction. And then I realised that, well, they most definitely have. 😂

I think the easiest example of this is in IB, with Lenian culture. I am very conscious that I took an idea (I thought it would be funny to have Sirens - traditionally depicted as scantily-clad temptresses - and make them the most buttoned-up, repressed, hell-bent-on-social-etiquette species), and then I ran with it. It's where a lot of Lenian culture comes from: it doesn't depict Ancient Greece, but it does borrow from its language (mostly made up to sound like Greek, with some notable exceptions), and also, I think some of the mindset. Lenians are culturally Not That Bothered About Killing, especially when it comes to politics, and this is, well, a pretty obvious theme that happens in politics (in Athens, Sparta, Macedonia and beyond) in the 5th, 4th and 3rd centuries BCE, along with all the backstabbing, swapping sides and power grabs.

More widely, I think the galactic politics in my writing may come a little bit from the fact that this period of history deals with a lot of states politicking and warring with one another (things like the Delian League definitely sit at the back of my mind most of the time), so I do definitely enjoy thinking about how smaller, personal things can start to become major political problems (and of course the impact that has on the delicate balance of peace and power).

Upon reflection, I also think Samiel is... unconsciously a little bit of a play on Homeric standards for heroes. He's clever, he's brutal, but he feels very, very deeply. This was entirely unintentional, but the more I think about it, the more I'm going to have to go back at some point and try and pick him apart a bit more.

Jumping back to my studies, my specialism got narrowed down further when I hit my undergrad dissertation, focused on the library of Alexandria, then got kind of overtaken by representations of Alexander the Great in literature. My Master's dissertation ended up exploring a discussion on sources that spoke of Alexander as a representation of Zeus-Ammon. (I'll pause here to point out that this is another one of those moments where the beginnings of P2P entered my head - because we have some tenuous links to Alexander as a potential representation of forces of chaos/the Antichrist, and my brain clearly went 'Hmm...' and filed this away for safekeeping. 😅)

And then finally the start of my PhD was on Alexander the Great versus his mythical representations in the 'original' (I say 'original' but I mean 'the only ones we have left - i.e. Roman') sources. This was a deep-dive look at Alexander as an Homeric hero (he's constantly linked/compared to Achilles, but how much of that came from Alexander himself, and how much of it came from later comparisons?), and as Heracles and Dionysus. All of which is a long-winded way of saying: I also get very excited about public mythical representations of political figures, versus what they're actually like.

In terms of things that might interest you, I think it depends on what you're after. However, some fun places to start may be translated sources, or some accessible works about the time period.

So a quick (and not at all comprehensive) couple of suggestions:

Plutarch's The Age of Alexander

Alexander the Great (Robin Lane Fox) - by no means a perfect biography, but it is very readable

Who's Who in the Age of Alexander the Great (Waldemar Heckel) - a reference book, but such a good one - thoroughly comprehensive work covering pretty much anyone mentioned in relation to Alexander and his successors, and where they appear in the sources

The Iliad (Homer) - find an enjoyable translation because this is just... I adore it, it is such a perfect, wonderful microcosm of war and the Homeric world and it's delicious

The Oxford History of Greece and the Hellenistic World (John Boardman) - a great overview of the time period, a little old now but such an interesting read

Professor Jeanne Reames has written and compiled brilliant work on Macedonia over the years (and specifically to my interests, on Hephaistion) - she's got some great articles online for free and some amazing resources

Professor Mary Beard writes wonderful, very accessible books on the Romans, so if your interests swerve more in that direction, she is a wonderful starting point

This was such an interesting question, thank you!

[studentbyday]

oops! i did it again. lessons from this school year...

Hey, you remember that post I made about my winter term priorities? HAHAHAHAHahaha ha ha. That plan totally went to shit, but it's all part of the journey, right? 😅 (Tbh, it's quite difficult to make a conscious effort to change yourself when the default response to being and feeling busy is to go on autopilot -> all the unconscious habits, even if unhealthy, take control, and bc it's unconscious, you don't realize it until it gets quite bad! anyway! no more! my future plans make it so this will be impossible to do while still retaining some sense of sanity. so to prep, we're gonna slowly implement little changes so hopefully it's not so overwhelming that i give up)

🧘🏻‍♀️ comparing mindsets in fall and winter term

Fall term was not that bad bc I had 2 STEM subjects I really really loved and was interested in (biochem and mol bio 💕), and despite their difficulty, that love and interest and the feeling that "I am in the right field for me" kept me positive. There were times I thought I would feel burnout symptoms if I wasn't careful, but I really think that positivity protected me from the worst of it.

Winter term, however...I had one favorite subject: moral philosophy, which led to me wistfully dreaming about an AU in which I double majored in philosophy and piano performance, lol. After the highs of biochem and mol bio and the natural ease with which the bits of info flowed together in those subjects, I did not enjoy pharmacology or the 2nd half of psyc as much -> loss of interest -> negativity and feeling like I'm in the wrong field bc how dare I not like pharmacology (or psychology) as much as the other life science-y subjects when it's really so important for us to survive and thrive! 😅 I mean, there were times I could get that spark from pharmacology or psyc, but it wasn't often enough or intense enough to keep me consistently inspired throughout the semester. The feeling of "maybe I don't have what it takes and I'm in the wrong field" was compounded by the re-realization that there's sm to know of bioinformatics and I struggle to know any of it! Persevering is important, but it's harder to persevere with a negative mindset.

😤 what went wrong this school year and what i learned from it

I still struggle with perfectionism (and bc of it, procrastination). While it might not be as bad as it was in high school, I still spent too long on assignments that weren't worth much and during finals season, was so scared of getting less than 90% just to keep up my A+ streak. Like, I'm pretty sure no one who cares to know your GPA cares about whether you have an A+ streak or not. I have too high a threshold for what is a "disappointing" grade. I also struggle with deep regret about how I haven't mastered everything they throw at us in each course... definitely an unrealistic expectation, especially as the proportion of new info to absorb increases with each course. I did what I could using what I knew to do, so it is what it is. I may find ways to make improvements and learn more, but I won't beat myself up for not having known to do those things in the past.

Did not use effective study methods. Since first year, my problem has been keeping up with the readings and my solution has been to just use typed outline notes. It worked for the first few years when it was mostly review from previous courses with a few new concepts in between. But as I progress through my degree, the proportion of completely new info is increasing. This notetaking method won't work anymore bc it just causes cognitive overload, especially during exam season (when I've mostly forgotten the details of everything that isn't smth I've already known for years). E.g. for pharmacology, I got so bogged down by the details of all the drug classes that I didn't see the big picture and so didn't organize the info according to it. This made it hard to see patterns and better chunk the info. I was so stressed during finals season bc of this (and the sheer amount of notes that I had to read for psyc 😭). What makes it feel like even more of a problem is that the cognitive overload problem from my notetaking method has been a thing for all other uni courses thus far, it's just that pharmacology was the first time I needed to create a stronger connecting thread between the otherwise disparate pieces of info (drug classes). In all other courses, that thread was part of the nature of the topic being studied so I eventually understood it as I kept going and mentally re-organized it in my brain...but even then it was hodge-podge and so my depth of mastery was and is so flimsy, and every semester I leave feeling drained and like I wasted the opportunity to maximize my learning. (How dramatic I get about this is also probably tied to my perfectionism, but I still think it would greatly benefit future me to change my notetaking style.)

🎓 advice for future me

Look at the academic calendar, specifically the faculty course descriptions. Look at how many hours they say you should expect to spend on each activity in the course. Try to use those learning hours as a guide for your schedule so that you don't spend too long on an item that isn't worth much. If there isn't such a breakdown, assume one based on whatever they give you or other courses and adjust from there.

Be a more efficient reader by skimming the text first so you can map the flow of info in a way that best creates ease of understanding/synthesis/memory (e.g. via an outline, tree diagram, flowchart, mind map, or simple drawings - and noticing when a list/outline will NOT be helpful bc it'll just be too overwhelming and not easy to compare/contrast info and see patterns). I knowww you've survived thus far without doing it this way and done well, BUT with this many courses, the increasing complexity of each subject, and the overload of info in each, you WILL need to do this to make quicker work of the readings, save you sooo much stress during exam seasons, and improve how much you learn while in school which is the real goal you've wanted to achieve all this time. Don't repeat the mistake you made in pharmacology. And it really doesn't have to be aesthetic and you definitely should NOT get caught up with it if you really wanna learn. You could just use one color for everything and a highlighter and just basic shapes/lines - that alone can be way more effective than boring paragraphs/lists or a colorful, overly complex diagram that'll just distract you from the main point.

Create a realistic daily routine (wake-up and sleep times, start and end times for schoolwork) and be strict about following it. Set your non-negotiables for personal goals to keep up with alongside your schoolwork bc academics aren't everything. Remember how you regretted not devoting more time to extra-curriculars and other skills in high school which would've rounded you out as a person. You can try theming the parts of the day so that you don't have to think about what task you should do first after study breaks and keep up the momentum (e.g. mornings for readings and notes, afternoons for active recall/homework). Then you can live the rest of the day after school as structured or unstructured as you wish. If this strategy doesn't work for you, you don't have to use it.

Take advantage of interleaving so you don't get bored. Whether by following the theming strategy or just switching subjects every hour, idc if you aren't done yet, you better switch bc the second consecutive hour of the same thing is never as effective as the first.

[cameronspecial]

Secrets In Tangled (Part 1)

Pairing: Anthony Lockwood x Reader

Warnings: Running Away.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.8K

Summary: Being the daughter of Penelope Fittes isn't all that it is cracked up to be. She really wishes her mother would let her leave the manor.

A/N: Taglist is open for this story.

Masterlist

Most children with talent in England would love to be the child of a Fittes. The prestige that comes with just mentioning one works for Fittes is bountiful, so being related to one would multiply that by a hundred. But Y/N Fittes knew better than most. The role of Peneolpe’s daughter is not one that played out for her how most people expected. Y/N is a secret meant to be hidden away from the world. It is done out of the guise of protecting her from the harm people would want to inflict on her because of her last name, but who would want a talentless child? No matter how much she begged her mother, Y/N wasn’t allowed to go to the outside world, which meant she turned to her academics and sports to impress her mother to let her go. 

The only handful of people who knew of her existence are tutors, coaches and doctors. All adults. She learnt a wide range of subjects from a young age ranging from the history of the problem to French. She pushed herself to excel in fencing and a variety of martial arts. But no matter how well she mastered fencing against her instructor, it would not change the fact that she is powerless against a visitor. Her days have become pretty mundane and routine. She knows she is privileged. She has a safe place to live, food, and every physical object she could want. If she asked for an elephant, it would appear the next day in a newly built habitat. She would have the space on the spacious property of the manor she lives in just outside of London. But she still couldn’t help but wonder when her life would begin. 

——

Y/N is currently practicing her fencing techniques on one of the state of the arts dummy her mother had created for her. Y/N’s back is turned to the door, so the only way she knew her mother had arrived is by the opening of the gym door. She lowers her rapier, turning toward the woman. “Hello, my dear. How are your lessons coming along?” her mother inquires, approaching her daughter to give her a kiss on the forehead. Y/N moves gently away from Penelope, “They are going well. I got a hundred on all of my exams, Sir Rupert has said that my glazad is improving. And all my martial coaches have confirmed that I am on track to moving up a degree. So can I please go into London now?”

“No, dear. You know why I don’t want people to know you exist. They will hurt you to get to me. I can’t allow that to happen. How about you take up photography instead? Yes, I think that is a brilliant idea. I’ll get you a photography instructor.”

“I don’t want to do photography. I want to be around people my own age. I want to go to school. I want to know how it feels to be in a crowded restaurant that is too noise. I just feel so lonely here by myself.” 

“Then we’ll get you a cat. You can give it whatever name you want. What kind do you want?”

“Mother, please. The only thing I want is to be able to go into society like any normal teenage girl.”

“Well, that is not happening. So get over it. I am ending this conversation, now. I will come back when you finally see some sense in what I am offering.” 

With that, Penelope Fittes storms away from her daughter, leaving her to wonder if she will ever truly get to live. 

——

She knows her decision is reckless, but she needed to do it for her own sanity. She is eighteen and has never talked to anyone her own age. Packing her things is difficult, she isn’t sure exactly what she will need because of the fact that she’s only really seen London in the tabloids or on tv. She doesn’t have much money, just what she is able to pickpocket from the various people allowed into the house. So she packs that into the bag along with her favourite clothes, toiletries, a few knick-knacks and her journal that has all of her childhood photos. Once the bag is ready, she uses her knowledge to disarm the alarm system on her bedroom window and then exits using it. She stands on the roof of the wrap-around porch and dangles herself from it to safely get down. She really hopes she had correctly turned off the security cameras or else she would not have much time. 

She takes her bike out of the garage and heads to the hedge at the edge of the property. This had been a part of her plan for a while now, so she had slowly worked on making an opening in the bushes. It is big enough for her and her bike without any struggle. She makes it through and is now off of the property. Using the map, Y/N makes her way to the train station. The money she stole is just enough to pay for the train ticket and a sandwich, which she eats on the journey to her destination. A few hours later, she has reached her destination and is now in the bustling streets of London. She didn’t exactly think her whole plan through seeing as she has no place to stay tonight. She really did think her money would be enough for more, but since she was wrong, she decides to explore the city. 

The long line outside of the coffee shops attracts her attention immediately. She waits in line to enter and immediately realizes she can’t get anything when she is at the till, so she embarrassingly makes her way toward the door. The big lettering of a poster on the corkboard causes her to pause to examine it. It is a want ad for an assistant at a place called Lockwood & Co. It felt as though fate is helping her out. She pulls out her map to try to figure out how to find the address. 

——

To her surprise, 35 Portland Row is a residential house and not an agency building. It does not stop her from knocking on the door. The door opens with a breeze and behind it is just about the most beautiful boy she has ever seen. Although, he is the only boy she has ever seen in real life. He stands taller than her and his beautiful cheeky smirk could not hide the tiredness in his eyes that is amplified by his eye bag. It doesn’t deter her from thinking he is handsome. His hair is perfectly gelled and he is wearing a suit that is just shy of being the right size with beat-up trainers. “Can I help you?” his melodic voice snaps her out of her observations. She has never talked to anyone her age before and she feels a little shy, “Umm, hi. I’m Y/N Y/L/N. I’d… uh… like to apply for the assistant position.” She decides to use her father’s last name just to be safe. “Ahh, brilliant. Well, I’m Lockwood and I’ll be your interviewer,” the handsome boy leaves the doorway, leading her toward the front room. 

He motions her towards the couch, sitting in the armchair across from it. “So do you have any experience as an assistant to an agency?” he questions. 

“Uh, no. But I am very organized and have good time-management skills. I’m also very good at doing research so I can help with that too.”

“Okay, that’s good. It’s not a requirement, but do you have a talent.”

“No, I don’t.” 

“And since you haven’t handed me a resume, I’m going to assume you don’t have any.”

“I do not. But I promise that if you hire me, I will be the best assistant you have ever had. I will work my hardest to satisfy you.” 

“Okay, I believe you. You’re hired.”

Honestly, Y/N is shocked. She knew the job interview was a long shot without any experience or resume, but that went faster than she thought it would. Lockwood isn’t entirely sure he should be hiring this beautiful girl, who came in out of nowhere without any of the formal work documents. But when has he ever done anything conventionally? Plus, he recognizes the look of need in her eyes. It reminds him of someone else he once let in even though she didn’t really have her level four certificate. Lockwood stands up from his chair and motions for her to follow, “Come on. Let’s go meet the others.” 

Y/N follows him into a cozy kitchen with a short-haired girl drawing on the inked-filled tablecloth and a curly hair boy reading a newspaper. “Y/N, this is our resident listener, Lucy Carlyle and our resident researcher, George Karim. You guys, meet our newest member, Y/N Y/L/N,” Lockwood introduces. Y/N gives a shy smile and waves to the others. Before this morning, she had never been in the same room as another teen and now she is in one with three. George looks up at her in disinterest, “You can only take one biscuit at a time and you have to wait your turn to get your biscuit.” Y/N nods her head at the random rule thrust upon her but understands the logic behind it. “Wouldn’t it just be easy to count the cookies and then divide that amongst you guys?” she poses. 

“No… Okay, maybe. But we didn’t think about that. So that’s our rule.”  

The group awkwardly stares at each other. Y/N doesn’t really know how to continue a conversation when it isn’t about her academics, martial arts, or arguing with her mother. Lucy can sense the uncomfortableness Y/N is drowning in, so she decides to rescue her. Just like Lockwood, Lucy can sense the need Y/N has to find a home and decides to take her under her wing, “How about I take you on a tour?” Y/N nods and goes after Lucy, who is starting her tour. 

——

Lucy shows her all around the house, including a very cool training system, which Y/N will probably be found at late at night. The final stop of the tour is Lucy’s attic room. The room is decorated in polaroids and peppered with cassettes. It feels like a home. “And this is going to be our room,” Lucy announces, turning around towards the shocked girl. 

“How did you know?” 

“I can recognize a fellow runaway. It’s okay, we won’t pry into your past. But we can share this room. You can borrow any of my clothes and we’ll get you your own bed this weekend. Is that okay?” 

“It is more than okay. Thank you so much!”

Y/N wraps Lucy in a big hug as thanks. She can’t explain it, but she feels safe with this small trio of friends she just met. This day has gone by so fast and she just hopes she got away with her great escape. 

[wttcsms]

i love your writing every time i read a post i know it’s going to permanently engrave itself into my brain 😌 i’m studying accounting rn (rip) and i’m nosy but did you go the route of cpa/big 4 or did something different? i’m kinda nervous if i don’t go into public accounting but it sounds horrific and wanted to know other people’s experience 😭 sorry if that’s too personal

i did something different haha. i recently graduated with my master’s in accounting and im now going to begin studying for the cpa exam and take my first section (FAR) at the beginning of 2025. im in a very specialized/niche field of auditing, not necessarily by choice LOL. i actually received a fellowship with the entity i am working with now and so they paid for my entire grad school tuition (including books and other fees) and in return, i work for them for the next two years. truthfully, i don’t think big 4 is worth it. back when i was in undergrad, i didn’t go the usual public accounting route bc that simply did not seem like the vibe. i actually went and got a junior year internship w jp morgan (private banking division) & what i learned is that accounting is so versatile. you are eligible for so many jobs within the finance field, accounting is a very technical subject and it comes in handy bc lots of finance jobs (corporate, at least) have to spend time understanding financial statements.

before i graduated with my bachelor’s, i also received two job offers that weren’t public accounting. both were financial analyst roles, one was with a&f (so working corporate for a fashion brand) and the other was with lockheed martin (weapons manufacturing) so two completely industries yet they both wanted me, which goes to show how far you can go with an accounting degree and i will say that they paid very well in comparison to what the starting salary of big 4 is.

this isn’t me shitting on big 4 but i think there’s so much emphasis in universities that this is the optimal route and it really isn’t. you can think abt any major company or brand and i promise you, they need people to work as an internal auditor or as a financial analyst or someone who works within accounting/finance. several of those positions, esp for entry-level/new graduates, won’t even require a cpa or cpa eligibility.

all that to say, i actually want to go an even more insane route and pursue academia, so im really focused on phd applications starting next year :)

[mrhaitch]

Hello Mr. Haitch, how are you ? I reckon that since you're an author married to an another wonderful author, you may be familiar with the self-doubt and overall bleh feeling that comes with writing and not really finding pleasure or purpose in it anymore. My question is : how do you deal with that ? I don't see myself as a writer but I still try to nurture this hobby, it's just been hard when everything I write ends up feeling flat at best, unreadable at worst. I don't really have writer pals or readers who give me feedback and I was a bit sad to realise that even when sharing my writing on online spaces where there are no stakes, it still feels like a race to notes and interactions. How can I keep pushing past this ? How do I improve when no one gives me feedback ?

I'm doing well, thank you anon.

Yes this is all familiar to me, and it's something I'm presently overcoming myself (I think it's been over two years since I managed to complete something).

I think there's a few different things here to address so I'll take them each in turn.

Motivation - Loss of motivation is inevitable. All love affairs have peaks and troughs, creative ones doubly so. Accepting that what you're feeling now will pass in time can help, but it's not a cure. When I feel like a failure I try to remember something Neil Gaiman talked about a few years back: writing is a lot like trying to get to the top of a mountain, with every word being a single step closer or another foot surmounted. If you find there's a time you can't write, you're not going backwards, you're just standing in place. Sometimes you have to in order to catch your breath. Forgive yourself for taking a breather - and try to figure out why you need it.

Writing in isolation - This has been my own experience, to tell the truth. I hold a Masters degree in Creative Writing and sat through many hours of workshops, but even then it still felt like I was writing alone - that somehow the conversations that took place in those groups were competitive and unconstructive; everyone eyeing each other, asking 'do you like me? do you like my work? is this okay?'. Writing can be lonely, especially with that first draft where you're writing with the door closed, just figuring out the story one line at a time. You can experience several lifetimes in the space of an hour and occasionally emerge from your writing place, puffy faced and wild-eyed, feeling like you have to tell someone what you just witnessed, but find people give you a quizzical look and fail to understand. Working with others, sharing with others, especially people who do understand can be a wonderful balm for such extended (and sometimes necessary) solitude - but it can have it's own problems. Sometimes you internalise the expectations and tastes of others in such a way that proves more of a hindrance then a help. Which brings me to-

Writing for a social media profile - I've done this myself some times and fell into the same trap you describe: second guessing my work for the sake of a theoretical audience, interpreting a lack of engagement as a sign of my own failures or short-comings as a writer. Even when I published for the first time, and then again for a second, I have only met one person who read my work and it was only because they were published in the same anthology. The relationship between artist and audience is difficult, fraught might be a better word, and one that deserves its own post. Sometimes the audience feels they're owed something by the artist, sometimes the artist senses that expectation and subjects their work to censure to adapt it to what they think the audience wants from them. In the end you've got a work that satisfies no one. Social media can help you find an audience - but it's also a medium built around habit, dependency, and engagement. It's not a true reflection of your worth, but rather how closely what you produce as an artist best fits that platforms algorithms and business models. And, here I'm flirting with arrogance a bit, you should never really concern yourself with what everyone might think.

As for advice, here's the best I've got: find whatever it is that brings you to the page and keeps you there. If trying to satisfy the expectations of others isn't helping, then focus on what you want. How would you tell this story, if you were the only person to ever read it? How would you excite yourself, challenge yourself, enlighten yourself?

Beyond that I'd suggest reading a lot and reading widely. Feed the creative compost heap that dwells in the darker, mustier corners of your mind, and see what weird and wonderful things take root.

And if you want something to prime the engine, watch this short interview with Ray Bradbury towards the end of his life. It always cheers me up:

[imagine-silk]

Hi! I’ve got a request if you’re still doing fallout 4 ones. Can we have our companions reaction to a SoSu who affectionately treats synths, especially their synth companions, as their grandchildren given most of them were made with Shaun’s DNA?

Like checking in on them a lot, making sure they’re taking care of themselves, being a bit overprotective given the lose of their spouse and Shaun, etc.

》Very cute. I've actually seen a comic that covered this topic kind of by nimblerscout here.

》I'm gonna retcon the plot a bit so the player knows they need to get to the Institute but needs to find a way in. So they know what a synth is and where they technically land on their family tree.

【Cait】 "Should I care? All I'm hearing is there a lot more people on the planet."

At first she doesn't really care, the act is genuine at that point. But when she sees how well you treat them and almost baby them she gets a bit jealous. No one ever did that to her, even when she was young. She will never admit to it, not even if you tried to torture it out of her. If you fawn over one of your grandkids in front of her she'll roll her eyes and look away pouting. Sometimes she'll think about if she's a synth so she can get the same treatment.

【Codsworth】 "Just so you know, I don't expect to make five-hundred lunches everyday."

He supports the idea to a reasonable degree. He loves the idea of you having grandchildren. Maybe you have a little more than the average nuclear family but that's they charm of it, wouldn't you say. That being said he will not allow you to house them all, there's hundreds of them. They can visit but only a few at a time and no more than four can live with you, not including Shaun, he will always make room for the young master.

【Curie】 "Oh my! A gift? Thank you. What a lovely thought."

When she gets her new body you immediately treat her as family. Not that you didn't treat her good before it's just different. And she loves the way you make her feel, absolutely loved and pampered. She doesn't really see anything you do as weird or questions it because you are technically right, she does come from your DNA one generation removed. With her new emotions you help her express what exactly she's feeling and try to give her positive emotions to understand first by giving her gifts or asking what she's working one and allowing her to talk your ear off. She's also the one that is most comfortable calling you grandpa/grandma.

【Danse】 "Good boy."

He was very confused when Dogmeat kept smelling him and basically fell in love with him immediately. Not that he ever really complained about it, he actually got very attached to him. If you were traveling with him Dogmeat would stick to him like glue. After he found out why and that you never told him it fundamentally broke something inside him. You knew and that's why you always tried to steer him to a different path. Your love was not only conditional but irreplaceable and would never stop. Unable to turn to anyone else he leaned into your love, knowing what it meant now. He can't remember the last time someone treated him like a child, not even in his earliest memories.

【Deacon】 "That's better than anything I could come up with."

He thinks it's funny... up until you give him the details about your son and spouse. He'll try to joke on the subject and shows you around the Railroad HQ, introducing who's your grandkids and who are just regular people. Because you have such a personal stake in synths well-being he has no doubt about where your loyalties lie. If you want to keep it a secret he won't tell a soul. You wanna tell the whole Railroad he'll get the equivalent of popcorn ready to watch the whole thing go down. He will also help you deal with Desdemona by stalling her so you can spend as much time with your son as you can.

【Dogmeat】 Sniffs before letting out a happy bark.

He's noticed how you are more protective of some people verses other, and he can tell the difference with how they smell. He can smell if someone is a synth or not which outs a lot of people as a side effect. To make up for it he is extremely protective of them and will go to bat for them as much as he does for you.

【Hancock】 "These are our new brothers and sisters. Give them a warm welcome.

As much as he didn't like the Institute after they were gone and the synths were displaced he had no issue with them, quite the opposite. He is more than willing to integrate them into Goodneighbor safely when news spread that the Institute was gone. Everyone is welcome in all shapes and sizes. When he sees you doting on them every time you visit he laughs. When you tell him they are your grandkids he laughs even more and encourages your behavior. The idea of you having nothing but love for freaks and weirdos makes him happy. You love the residents both old and new so he's all for it.

【MacCready】 "Grandkids? I mean, I guess you could call them that. I'd go for 'clones one generation removed' but whatever you say."

At first he doesn't understand why you even care for them in the first place. Sure they have your DNA but can you even call them your family. Once you explain exactly what happened he imagined if his son grew up and had kids he'd probably kill for them. Still, his son would never have hundreds of kids but he can kind of understand it. If he spots one of them he'll also help them knowing you'll probably pay him for it, or if you already have a close relationship with him because he knows it will make you happy.

【Nick】 "I'm not even sure we come from the same branch. Got a bit too many holes in me, if you know what I mean."

As far as proving you have the same DNA he doesn't really care about that in the slightest. If it makes you happy to believe that he's fine with it. But do not treat him like a child. He'll humor you most days and will allow you to go out of your way to help and protect him but he draws the line at patronizing him. He's mentally older than you and has to deal with weirdos and bigots all the time, don't add to that list of people that annoy him. But if you wanna crack a joke or two about it that's fine by him. Sometimes he even finds it funny.

【Piper】 "You knew?!"

You don't tell her about what Dogmeat does and what it means, you tell her it's just something he does that you can't explain. After you find the Institute expecting your son to welcome you with open arms you find out he's dying. So you spend what time you can spare with him as he slips away inch by inch. Piper doesn't know anything about what you're going through with him though and thinks the only reason you haven't destroyed the Institute is because your little boy is still in there, that you still need to find him or gain a way to access him. When she does find out she's pissed. When you've finally dealt with the Institute, after your son died, you decided to tell her. She doesn't stay mad for very long because you did follow through and ended their reign of terror.

【Preston】 "Can you... maybe help me figure out where to place them?"

He does and doesn't understand. He cares about the hundreds of synths that were displaced and you had a direct cause in that happening. Of course you felt a responsibility to them. But to treat them all as your children was strange to him, even more so when you had a hard time choosing where they should go. They couldn't stay in one settlement, there were too many. He regrets ever going to you to help decide this, you were taking a long time because 'you didn't want to choose favorites between your grandkids'. He ended up taking care of it and watched you say bye to every single one.

【X6】 "Could you refrain from touching me? No, I am not embarrassed, you are dirty."

He tries to avoid your fawning and doting as much as he can, especially while the Institute is running. If you don't listen to him he will eventually get annoyed enough to smack your hand away and tell you to stop again. But after a long period of time he just doesn't comment on it hoping you'll stop one day. You don't. When the Institute is gone and he gets stranded on the surface he better understands where you're coming from and will allow you to dote on him. But he will never allow you to protect him. He will always put himself between you and danger, forcefully if he needs to. You could talk him into most anything, a family picture, give him gifts, in private you can even get him to call you grandpa/grandma. Only in private.

[judysxnd]

Hello! Can you write one where Pedro surprises his girlfriend at her masters graduation? (She studied psychology if that has any importance :)) It doesn’t have to be a long one! 🖤

I actually have no idea how the ceremony for the graduation in America is like, I’m French and we don’t get anything when we graduate in college.. I just know how it goes at the end of high school, so my bad if it sounds similar even if in reality it probably isn’t. I actually remembered one that I saw in the show “my wife and kids” (that I love sooooo much), but it’s pretty old so idk if it’s still the same!

Also I’m trying not to use the same pics on my fics, but it’s hard to remember the one I used, and I’m running low 😂

——————————————————————————

Today is a big day. It is your graduation. You’ve been pretty nervous but also extremely excited. There were a few ambiguous feelings forming in your stomach, but all for a good reason. After years of hard work, studying on a passion subject that you always loved and will always be loving: psychology. It’s always been a big part of you, you’ve always been interested in psychology and a lot of people told you that too.

At first you had been very hesitant to go back to college. You had tried a few years back, but it didn’t really work. Also it wasn’t the same degree. You feared it would do the same thing this time. Luckily, you close friends, family and your boyfriend were supporting you. You had a lot of phone calls with your mom, lots of texts with your dad, and it was Pedro who helped you go on campus, to meetings and stuff before actually making the move to go there.

Pedro has been a huge part of your decision. If he hadn’t been here supporting you, you didn’t think you would go through this alone. It’s a big decision, change in situation to go back to college after working and earning money. A lot is aspects change. But Pedro didn’t care, of course he didn’t. He can support you financially, even if you don’t like it. He insisted, said that he was here for you, either emotionally, or financially. That’s why you were so thankful for him.

He also helped you a lot during your studies and researches. Hell he even could graduate with you, that’s how much he helped you. He loves to learn new things, so he remembered and learned a lot of your stuff. For your exams he helped you study until 2am, he helped you correct and edit your essays, he really supported you in every way possible.

That’s why you’re also pretty nervous for you graduation. Because he can’t be here. Unfortunately your graduation happens the same day he films the first part of his latest Gladiator movie, in an entire different country, so he really couldn’t be here. So you had to go through without him, and you didn’t like it. Your parents are going to be here, but it’s not the same without him.

So here you are, waiting in line, surrounded by the other graduates, looking for you parents in the crowd. You knew they were in the front rows, they wanted “the best sits for the best moment”, that’s what your dad said. When you finally found them, you recognized another person next to them. One less person in front of you, still two and it’s your turn. You look again, as you got a step closer, and as unbelievable as it was, Pedro was next to them, smiling and waving at you. Wide eyes, tears forming, there was a feeling of relief when you realized it was him. You blew a few kisses at him. Still one person.

“Y/n Y/l/n” your heart started to beat very fast, your legs were moving by themselves. Next thing you knew, you were on stage, holding your diploma, looking rapidly at the crowd and then at your parents and Pedro with a big smile, before walking on the other side. Your foot barely touch the ground that you ran in Pedro’s arms.

“What are you doing here!!!” You said excitedly, still holding him tight.

“I wanted to surprise you cariño” he said kissing the top of your head. Feeling his touch, smelling him, just little simple things were what you needed. You needed him.

You parted, looking at him with nothing but love.

“I finally did it” you said, showing him the paper you had in your hand. He couldn’t stop smiling either.

“I’m so proud of you princesa, we all knew you could do it” he said, glancing at your parents. You let go of Pedro to hug your parents.

“You worked so hard honey, we are so so proud of you” your mom said, playing with your hair, some tears forming in her eyes.

“Thank you. I couldn’t do it without you guys” you looked at the three persons in front of you.

“All credits to you, we were just supporting you” Pedro added.

“Now we have a free psychologist” your dad joked

“Be careful, it’s not always a good thing” you added, you all laughed.

“How about we go to a nice dinner, so we can celebrate properly?” Pedro asked

“That’s a great idea!” Your mom said.

So you all left, very happily, and had a nice dinner, with a few bottles of champagne. You were surrounded by the people you wanted and you accomplished what you wanted the most. A new chapter is coming for you.

[lingwistyka-balto-slawistyka]

~◇~ Welcome to my langblr ~◇~

◇ Hi, my name is Alexandra, and linguistics is my passion! Below you will find the detailed information about my language study plan as well as the contents that will be posted on this blog.

• Short version: my native language is Romanian. My current focus is getting fluent in Polish (currently at around B1-B2), improving my French (also around B2) and finding a Romanian Sign Language course. In terms of linguistics, my main interests are historical and comparative linguistics, etymology, language typology, language acquisition, language evolution, innovation and word formation.

◇ Why "Lingwistyka Bałto-Sławistyka"?

• This sideblog started when I was writing a paper about the common origins of Slavic and Baltic Languages. The name is in Polish because it's the main language I'm learning. As for the Baltic part, I still really want to learn Lithuanian one day.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

◇ Romanian (native language)

~~~ ◇ ~~~ About me ~~~ ◇ ~~~

~ ◇ ~ Language learning ~ ◇ ~

Languages I can speak:

◇ English (C2)

◇ Polish (B1-B2) <- priority

◇ French (B1-B2) <- priority

◇ Russian (B1)

Languages I want to study in the near future:

◇ Romanian Sign Language <- priority

◇ Lithuanian

◇ Old English

Languages I want to study eventually:

◇ Aromanian

◇ A Nordic language

◇ A South Slavic language

◇ American Sign Language

◇ Japanese

◇ Estonian

◇ A constructed language

Languages that I would potentially need to learn in the future:

◇ German

◇ Hungarian

◇ Ukrainian

~ ◇ ~ Linguistics ~ ◇ ~

Branches of linguistics I'm most interested in:

◇ Historical and comparative linguistics. Indo-European studies

◇ Etymology. Lexicology

◇ Typology

◇ Language acquisition

◇ Linguistic evolution. Creolization. Grammaticalization

~ ◇ ~ How I got into linguistics ~ ◇ ~

My first contact with foreign languages was my dad teaching me to say "I love you" in as many languages as he knew how to, since I was a toddler. During early childhood, the main foreign language I was exposed to was English, mostly via Disney movies, other cartoons, and, later on, the Internet. During middle school, I took up French, being a mandatory subject, and studied it in school for 8 years. At some point in 6th grade I tried teaching myself Japanese using one textbook and anime, and it didn't even get me to an A1 level. However, if I had the chance, I would take it up again in the future.

More importantly, in 6th grade, my teacher enrolled me in the linguistics olympiad, which I fell in love with at first sight. I had never seen such a thing before, and I was completely awestruck. I remember that it was a problem in which we had to decipher Luwian hieroglyphs. I loved it so much that I continued to attend this olympiad yearly for the rest of my pre-university schooling. Another relevant detail is that I learned the etymology of my name at around the age of 15, and binge read dozens if not hundreds of behindthename entries. This solidified a lifelong interest in etymology and historical linguistics.

Specifically because of my interest in linguistics, I pursued a philology (literature + linguistics) degree in college, being an English major and a Russian minor. I had taken up Russian from scratch, and reached approximately a B1 level. However, I also took an elective Polish course, only once a week for 3 years, and got a higher language level than Russian, which was my minor. It helps that I went to Poland twice in the meantime.

I am currently enrolling in a linguistics masters program, hoping to deepen my knowledge of the subject and learn how to do real research of my own. My short term language learning goals, aside from perfecting my Polish and French, would be to start studying Romanian Sign Language.