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holidaywishes · 4 years ago

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Dusk Till Dawn

Requested: 👍

Summary/Request: 22 of the music prompts with Matthew Tkachuk please? “but you’ll never be alone / i’ll be with you from dusk till dawn” (dusk till dawn, zayn & sia) for @chuckythepest

Warning: fluff, maybe some angst, soft smut (I’ll be honest, I changed my mind about having a bit of smut in here or not and it’s not much but it’s there, so...)

Author’s Note: I’m sorry it’s taken me a little bit longer to write but hopefully it gives you what you’re looking for. I’ve never listened to this song so much in my life; I had it playing on repeat as I wrote this so I could really get a feel of what to write. My friend is a huge Matthew Tkachuk fan, really a huge Flames fan in general, but I have to admit I had to watch a lot of interviews to get a feel for the guy. I also wasn’t sure if I wanted it to be an angsty fic or a fluffy one because the song kinda has both vibes so honestly, it’ll be an adventure for the both of us. If you enjoyed this one, here’s the entire list of prompts. Feel free to send your requests through! Stay Golden, loves <3!

masterlist

the other masterlist

You had been on a vacation with a few of your friends in Cancun for about a week when you got the news that everything was going into lockdown

“What does this mean?” your friend, Beth, asked as she paced around the hotel room

“It means that everyone has to stay inside for a bit” you said

“No, what does that mean for us?” she asked again

“I guess it means that we have to isolate when we get home” another of your friends, Jenna, replied as she dropped onto the bed

“I wouldn’t have left if I knew we were gonna come back to a total nationwide, international lockdown!” Melanie, your childhood friend shouted frantically

“Okay, everyone calm down...” you sighed, “we knew this was a possibility, as much as we might want to say that we didn’t, we knew that we could get home and everything would be shut down”

“So what do we do?” Beth asked

“We...” you stammered, not having the answers but trying your best to stay calm, “we listen. We do what we’re told -- isolate, quarantine, get tested, all of it -- and then hopefully it’ll be over soon.” Your words were like a curse because as soon as you got back to St. Louis, the world seemed crazier than it ever was. Months went by and nothing changed. People were still getting sick, still dying, and there were still people who thought it was all a hoax. Birthdays were spent apart, friends stopped making an effort to keep in touch and it made everything feel... cold and sad. The only thing that seemed to make any sense was your friendship with Matthew.

“What’s up kid?” he texted one day after a particularly hard week and you just about broke down in front of your phone screen

“I lost my job...” you sent back

“Ah shit, I’m sorry”

“It’s fine but thank you”

“It’s not fine”

“I mean, no, but it’s not like it’s just me. Half of the world has lost their jobs”

“That doesn’t mean you have to be all fine about it”

“Matt, seriously, it’s fine”

“You say that now and then two days from now you’ll get pissed about someone else getting promoted”

“I wouldn’t do that”

“Not on purpose but stress can do things to a person...”

“I’ll be fine but thank you for caring so much”

“Anytime!” you smiled at his concern before changing the subject, checking in with his family, asking him about what was going to happen with the season, “I have no idea... everything is still shut down until further notice”

“I hope things get better by Christmas”

“At the rate things are going, I don’t think they will”

“Way to stay positive, Tkachuk” you scoffed to yourself

“It’s what I do 😜” the conversation didn’t last long after that and you went on a spiral of looking and applying for jobs; everything came crashing down when you’re grandpa got sick and you couldn’t visit him. You called the hospital every day, not wanting your grandpa to be alone, but they wouldn’t let you in, ‘protocols’ they said

“I don’t know what to do, Matt” you sobbed over the phone

“Relax,” he tried, “we’ll get you in there”

“They won’t let me in!” you argued, raising your voice in anger, “he’s dying and they won’t let me see him...”

“I can make sure you see him.”

Matthew’s P.O.V

You were trying your best to get (Y/N) into the hospital to see her grandpa but it was taking a lot more effort than you thought

“Please,” you begged the doctor, “he doesn’t have anyone else. She’s not getting any answers and she just wants to see him, even if it’s to say goodbye”

“I’m sorry. I can’t break the rules for your girlfriend” the doctor replied

“No--” you stammered, trying to backtrack, “she’s not my girlfriend. She’s my best friend and she wants to see her grandfather”

“I can’t break protocols for one person. We’re doing everything we can to keep him healthy and if we invite guests inside, it puts our patients at risk,” the doctor explained, “maybe we can set up a Zoom call”

“If he dies and she isn’t there, she will blame herself for the rest of her life”

“I’m sorry. I don’t have a choice...” you angrily hung up the phone, throwing it to the side while you thought up a plan before calling (Y/N).

“The doctor said no...” you said solemnly

“What?” she whimpered, “Matt, he can’t be alone there. In a hospital, he needs to be with people who love him”

“They said they have protocols,” you added, “but we can sneak in there...”

“Sneak into a hospital?” she scoffed, “Matthew, we’re not spies. We can’t sneak into a hospital during a pandemic”

“Just trust me”

“What happens if we get caught? If we get in trouble?”

“We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it”

“I can’t le--”

“Just trust me” you interrupted, convincing her that everything would be okay and ending the call. You made your way to the hospital where (Y/N)’s grandpa had been checked into and asked around about how someone could have visitors

“They’d have to be tested before they came and then retested, temperature checked, when they got here,” a nurse explained, “and then they’d have to sit behind a barrier with a mask on. It wouldn’t be any different than most other places -- we’re following the same guidelines and restrictions, we just have to be 10 times as careful because we have lives at stake”

“But if a family member did all that, the tests and followed the guidelines, they could come visit?” you asked, feeling like you might be getting close to a solution

“Hypothetically?” she started, “it’s possible but there would be a time limit. Maybe 10 minutes maximum and even that’s pushing it”

“I can work with that!” you smiled under your mask and rushed out of the hospital, texting (Y/N) about what needed to be done, the two of you rushing to a testing facility as fast as possible and waited impatiently for the results. When both of your results came back negative, you told her you’d make a call and get her in to see her grandpa; she hugged you tightly before a tear fell from her eye onto your exposed collarbone. “He’s gonna be okay” you whispered

“Thank you,” she replied, keeping her arms wrapped around your neck, “for doing all this for me”

“I know how much he means to you” you smiled at her when she finally let go of you, her eyes softening at your words. You and (Y/N) met when your dad was drafted to St. Louis and had been friends ever since, celebrating each others successes as the years went by. Her grandparents raised her after her mom died and her dad took off, she was only six years old; her grandma died two years later so it was (Y/N) and her grandpa against the world. They were inseparable and she would’ve done anything for him -- including letting you sweet talk a group of nurses to get her into a hospital during a global pandemic. You watched as she made her way down the hallway, the lack of visitors and laughter making everything suddenly feel real, she stopped in front of a large glass door clutching onto the coat that she held in her hands as she waited for someone to let her in. A doctor finally let her in but stayed close by, pulling her out after 10 minutes had passed, not a second more, “come on, man,” you begged, “let her have a little bit more time”

“I can’t” he replied before looking at (Y/N), “I really am sorry.” She nodded at the doctor before looking back toward her grandpa’s room and tucking herself into your side as you made your way out of the hospital. You started to drive her home but after miles of silence, she asked if you could take her to the park where the two of you used to sneak out to

“Yeah, sure” you agreed, keeping your voice soft and letting her rest her head against the window for the remainder of the ride. When you pulled up in front of the park and parked the car, you looked at (Y/N) noticing a stream of dried tears on her cheeks before she swung open the car door and ran to the swings. She did this every once in a while, tried to ignore her pain and focus on putting a smile on someone else’s face by pretending she was fine. You could always tell that she wasn’t fine but you couldn’t always bring her out of it, “(Y/N)...” you sighed

“Come on, Matty!” she called, pushing herself on the swing to see how high she could get, “let’s see if you can get higher than me!”

“(Y/N).. we don’t have to do this. We could just sit and talk if you wanted to...”

“Why? I wanted to come to the park to play, not to talk,” she challenged, “if I wanted to talk, I would’ve gone home or to your place...” you exhaled as you walked toward the free swing beside her, your eyes following her as they tried to catch a glimpse of her face; trying to gauge whether or not she was crying. She didn’t stay on the swing too much longer, instead choosing to jump onto the Merry Go-Round

“You’re gonna spin on this now?” you scoffed

“No,” she answered with a laugh, laying down on the cold metal, “you’re going to spin me and I’m gonna see how long it takes me to get dizzy.. Just like we used to do.” You obliged, letting the sound of her laughter fill the air while the old playground equipment squeaked below her. As you kept spinning her, you noticed that her once happy laughter had been replaced by whimpers and you fought to slow down the Merry Go-Round

“(Y/N)?” you asked as you rushed to her, “what’s wrong? what happened?”

“He’s all alone, Matt...” she cried, “you should’ve seen him, he was so weak and I just wanted to hug him and tell him everything was going to be okay but I don’t think he’s going to be okay...”

“Shhh,” you tried to calm her sobs, letting her head fall onto your shoulder, “I’m here”

“I don’t want him to be alone... I don’t want to be alone” she sobbed

“You’re not alone...” you whispered and she looked up at you, her eyes flooded with tears, “you’ll never be alone...” you could tell by the way she looked at you that she wanted you to kiss her but you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything, fearing that she was too vulnerable and you’d be taking advantage of her. So, you continued to hold her instead, for as long as she needed but when she lifted her head up from your shoulder to look at you once more, she made the first move, pressing her lips onto yours as dusk set in and the two of you were the only sound either of you could hear. Your lips moved in sync with hers as your hands laid firmly on her sides; rolling her onto her back slowly so she didn’t hit her head. Her hands roamed to the top of your zipper, pushing the slider down before you tore it off your body quickly, leaving her lips for just a second to throw the fabric behind you. As much as you wanted this to happen, you were still being careful and she could feel your hesitation

“What’s wrong?” she asked

“Nothing,” you lied, “I just want to make sure you’re okay with this. That you’re not just doing this because you’re upset...”

“I know what I’m doing, Matt” she smiled.

When Matt started to drive you home, you asked him to redirect you to the park the two of you used to go as kids; so you could feel a little less like the world was falling apart

“Yeah, sure” he said softly before your head fell against the window as you waited for him to pull up to the park. You had managed to keep your crying quiet enough that, when he saw you, Matt was surprised to see the stream of tears on your cheeks. You pressed your lips together before you rushed out of the car toward the old swing set, jumping on and trying to get as high off the ground as possible

“(Y/N)...” Matt sighed and the tone of his voice was all too familiar so you ignored it

“Come on, Matty!” you laughed when you called to him, “let’s see if you can get higher than me!”

“(Y/N).. we don’t have to do this. We could just sit and talk if you wanted to...” he tried but you shook your head. You just wanted to forget what you’d just seen, forget about what was happening, forget that you might have to be alone again and you really didn’t want to be alone again

“Why?” you urged, “I wanted to come to the park to play not to talk. If I wanted to talk I would’ve gone home or to your place...” he finally walked to the swing next to you and began pumping his legs to meet your height before you could feel him watching you, leading you to hop off the swing and head to the next piece of equipment from your childhood; the Merry Go-Round.

“You’re gonna spin on this now?” Matt scoffed as he followed you to the metal death trap that you climbed on

“No,” you replied, chuckling at his question before lying down, your exposed skin meeting the cold metal below you, “you’re going to spin me and I’m gonna see how long it takes me to get dizzy.. Just like we used to do.” He compressed his lips and did as you asked, spinning you quickly and you laughed as you got increasingly dizzy with every turn before your grandpa’s face popped into your head; tears overcoming you as whimpers left your lips. Matt quickly dug his feet into the ground to stop the Merry Go-Round

“(Y/N)? What’s wrong?” he rushed to you, pulling you close to him, “what happened?”

“He’s all alone, Matt,” you cried as you remembered your grandpa in the hospital. He was all you had and the idea of him not being with you terrified you, “you should’ve seen him, he was so weak and I just wanted to hug him and tell him everything was going to be okay but I don’t think he’s going to be okay...” you shook your head frantically at the thought

“Shhh..” he hushed you, letting your head fall on his shoulder, “I’m here”

“I don’t want him to be alone... I don’t want to be alone” you sobbed

“You’re not alone,” he whispered and you felt his body move closer to yours, just to close the space between you, your eyes continuing to brim with tears, “you’ll never be alone.” Whether it was your fear of being alone, of losing the only person who had ever loved you, or if you just wanted to be close to someone, anybody, you looked up at Matt with soft eyes, hoping he’d make a move. But he didn’t. He just held you and, as nice as it was, it wasn’t what you wanted. You lifted your head once more, this time moving your lips closer to his as the sky filled with the dark hues of dusk, his breath brushing across your skin before your lips connected with his. He pressed his hand against your waist as he kissed you slowly, your lips parting just enough for his tongue to inch into your mouth before he shifted his body to lay your back onto the Merry Go-Round, holding your head with his free hand so you didn’t hurt yourself. Your hands found their way to the zipper of his hoodie, sliding it down and pushing the fabric from his arms and he left the kiss just for a second to easily throw away his hoodie, leaning back over you while you waited for him to continue kissing you but he pulled away

“What’s wrong?” you asked, sitting up as he did and you leaned against his back

“Nothing...” he said but you could tell he was lying, “I just want to make sure you’re okay with this. That you’re not just doing this because you’re upset...”

“I know what I’m doing, Matt” you scoffed and he turned his head back to you

“I know you do,” he smiled, kissing your nose playfully, “I just want you to know that you don’t have to”

“I want to” you replied, placing your hand on the side of his face to bring him closer to you, pressing your lips against his and twisting his body back on top of yours. You melted into each other, your breathing in sync as you undid the button of his jeans, setting him free before his hands drifted to push your leggings down. His lips trailed to your neck as he pushed himself into you, eliciting a quiet moan from you and a growl from him when you dug your nails into his skin. You tried not to make too much noise, worrying that the park was still too close to the neighbouring houses, but every once in a while you whined out a curse word

“Fuck,” Matthew moaned out before you could, “oh god” he grunted against your neck as he continued to pump in and out of you, your back arching to gain more friction

“Shit,” you whimpered, “fuck.” His speed increased and you giggled when you heard the Merry Go-Round start to squeak

“Shh” he chuckled

“I’m sorry” you laughed back, trying to focus more on the pleasure than the noise and after a few minutes, Matt released inside you and rolled to the side. You curled up beside him, placing your hand on his chest before you fell asleep next to him. You woke up with the dawn, letting Matt sleep while you watched the Sky lighten

“Good morning” he cooed, kissing your shoulder as he sat up

“Good morning,” you smiled, turning to lay a kiss to his lips, “we should probably get out of here before someone rats us out” he laughed but nodded in response, grabbing his hoodie from the ground and wrapping it around you. You watched him drive smoothly through the streets and you smiled to yourself

“What?” he smirked

“Nothing,” you replied, “I just... like you a whole lot”

“That so?” He chuckled to himself

“Yeah”

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing I like you a whole lot, too.” He reached out his hand to interlock his fingers with yours and a flush of heat ran through your body. He had managed to make you forget about everything for a while and you were grateful to him for that but you were still scared that you’d end up alone in the long run. “Hey,” he said, seemingly catching your eyes fall to your lap, “I meant what I said last night”

“What?” You replied, furrowing your brow

“You’ll never be alone. I’ll always be here for you”

“Thank you,” you smiled, dropping your head on the headrest, “for everything.”

“Any time” he smirked, bringing your hand up so he could kiss it while the two of you drove silently back to his house.

#Matthew Tkachuk #Matthew Tkachuk fic #Matthew Tkachuk imagine #Matthew Tkachuk request #Matthew Tkachuk prompt #Song Prompt #Music Prompt #dusk till dawn #dusk till dawn prompt #ZAYN and sia #request #fic request #imagine request #prompt request #song prompt request #masterlist #the other masterlist #hockey #nhl

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aljdkskjx · 3 years ago

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just flossed my teeth for the first time in 3 or 4 weeks.. the situation is not great but i’m gonna try to take really good care of them until i can go to a dentist. could def use a full dentil scaling 😬

though i’m kinda ashamed because it’s only been 2 months since i got my bottom teeth cleaned and they’re already pretty bad again but like i’ve been doing pretty shit mentally and i’m struggling to find reasons to stay alive so personal care and hygiene has not been a top priority. like i’ve been brushing my teeth once in a 24-30 hour period, i haven’t showered in 2 weeks, i haven’t washed my face and it’s drier than a desert, and my hair has been in a giant knot on my head for over a week.

but it needs to stop. because 1 - i’m getting my glasses prescription retested and i want my eyes to be fully rested bc they r so tired; and 2 - because i only have a limited time before uni starts and i want to look for a job after my semester starts so i want to look put together.

i wish i had not fallen so hard but i’m living with untreated mental illnesses and no support system and when i have one bad day it just snowballs. honestly the timing of my second vaccine dose is also to blame, it hit right at the peak of me feeling like shit and then it knocked all of the energy out of me for 3 or 4 days and then i just never got back on my feet :/

#tdlr; i am the sole cause of all my problems basically #lana.txt

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gordonwilliamsweb · 3 years ago

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Little-Known Illnesses Turning Up in Covid Long-Haulers

The day Dr. Elizabeth Dawson was diagnosed with covid-19 in October, she awoke feeling as if she had a bad hangover. Four months later she tested negative for the virus, but her symptoms have only worsened.

This story also ran on Time. It can be republished for free.

Dawson is among what one doctor called “waves and waves” of “long-haul” covid patients who remain sick long after retesting negative for the virus. A significant percentage are suffering from syndromes that few doctors understand or treat. In fact, a yearlong wait to see a specialist for these syndromes was common even before the ranks of patients were swelled by post-covid newcomers. For some, the consequences are life altering.

Before fall, Dawson, 44, a dermatologist from Portland, Oregon, routinely saw 25 to 30 patients a day, cared for her 3-year-old daughter and ran long distances.

Today, her heart races when she tries to stand. She has severe headaches, constant nausea and brain fog so extreme that, she said, it “feels like I have dementia.” Her fatigue is severe: “It’s as if all the energy has been sucked from my soul and my bones.” She can’t stand for more than 10 minutes without feeling dizzy.

Through her own research, Dawson recognized she had typical symptoms of postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome, or POTS. It is a disorder of the autonomic nervous system, which controls involuntary functions such as heart rate, blood pressure and vein contractions that assist blood flow. It is a serious condition — not merely feeling lightheaded on rising suddenly, which affects many patients who have been confined to bed a long time with illnesses like covid as their nervous system readjusts to greater activity. POTS sometimes overlaps with autoimmune problems, which involve the immune system attacking healthy cells. Before covid, an estimated 3 million Americans had POTS.

Many POTS patients report it took them years to even find a diagnosis. With her own suspected diagnosis in hand, Dawson soon discovered there were no specialists in autonomic disorders in Portland — in fact, there are only 75 board-certified autonomic disorder doctors in the U.S.

Other doctors, however, have studied and treat POTS and similar syndromes. The nonprofit organization Dysautonomia International provides a list of a handful of clinics and about 150 U.S. doctors who have been recommended by patients and agreed to be on the list.

In January, Dawson called a neurologist at a Portland medical center where her father had worked and was given an appointment for September. She then called Stanford University Medical Center’s autonomic clinic in California, and again was offered an appointment nine months later.

Using contacts in the medical community, Dawson wrangled an appointment with the Portland neurologist within a week and was diagnosed with POTS and chronic fatigue syndrome (CFS). The two syndromes have overlapping symptoms, often including severe fatigue.

Dr. Peter Rowe of Johns Hopkins in Baltimore, a prominent researcher who has treated POTS and CFS patients for 25 years, said every doctor with expertise in POTS is seeing long-haul covid patients with POTS, and every long-covid patient he has seen with CFS also had POTS. He expects the lack of medical treatment to worsen.

“Decades of neglect of POTS and CFS have set us up to fail miserably,” said Rowe, one of the authors of a recent paper on CFS triggered by covid.

The prevalence of POTS was documented in an international survey of 3,762 long-covid patients, leading researchers to conclude that all covid patients who have rapid heartbeat, dizziness, brain fog or fatigue “should be screened for POTS.”

A “significant infusion of health care resources and a significant additional research investment” will be needed to address the growing caseload, the American Autonomic Society said in a recent statement.

Lauren Stiles, who founded Dysautonomia International in 2012 after being diagnosed with POTS, said patients who have suffered for decades worry about “the growth of people who need testing and treating but the lack of growth in doctors skilled in autonomic nervous system disorders.”

On the other hand, she hopes increasing awareness among physicians will at least get patients with dysautonomia diagnosed quickly, rather than years later.

Congress has allocated $1.5 billion to the National Institutes of Health over the next four years to study post-covid conditions. Requests for proposals have already been issued.

“There is hope that this miserable experience with covid will be valuable,” said Dr. David Goldstein, head of NIH’s Autonomic Medicine Section.

A unique opportunity for advances in treatment, he said, exists because researchers can study a large sample of people who got the same virus at roughly the same time, yet some recovered and some did not.

Long-term symptoms are common. A University of Washington study published in February in the Journal of the American Medical Association’s Network Open found that 27% of covid survivors ages 18-39 had persistent symptoms three to nine months after testing negative for covid. The percentage was slightly higher for middle-aged patients, and 43% for patients 65 and over.

The most common complaint: persistent fatigue. A Mayo Clinic study published last month found that 80% of long-haulers complained of fatigue and nearly half of “brain fog.” Less common symptoms are inflamed heart muscles, lung function abnormalities and acute kidney problems.

Larger studies remain to be conducted. However, “even if only a tiny percentage of the millions who contracted covid suffer long-term consequences,” said Rowe, “we’re talking a huge influx of patients, and we don’t have the clinical capacity to take care of them.”

Symptoms of autonomic dysfunction are showing up in patients who had mild, moderate or severe covid symptoms.

Yet even today, some physicians discount conditions like POTS and CFS, both much more common in women than men. With no biomarkers, these syndromes are sometimes considered psychological.

The experience of POTS patient Jaclyn Cinnamon, 31, is typical. She became ill in college 13 years ago. The Illinois resident, now on the patient advisory board of Dysautonomia International, saw dozens of doctors seeking an explanation for her racing heart, severe fatigue, frequent vomiting, fever and other symptoms. For years, without results, she saw specialists in infectious disease, cardiology, allergies, rheumatoid arthritis, endocrinology and alternative medicine — and a psychiatrist, “because some doctors clearly thought I was simply a hysterical woman.”

It took three years for her to be diagnosed with POTS. The test is simple: Patients lie down for five minutes and have their blood pressure and heart rate taken. They then either stand or are tilted to 70-80 degrees and their vital signs are retaken. The heart rate of those with POTS will increase by at least 30 beats per minute, and often as much as 120 beats per minute within 10 minutes. POTS and CFS symptoms range from mild to debilitating.

The doctor who diagnosed Cinnamon told her he didn’t have the expertise to treat POTS. Nine years after the onset of the illness, she finally received treatment that alleviated her symptoms. Although there are no federally approved drugs for POTS or CFS, experienced physicians use a variety of medicines including fludrocortisone, commonly prescribed for Addison’s disease, that can improve symptoms. Some patients are also helped by specialized physical therapy that first involves a therapist assisting with exercises while the patient is lying down, then later the use of machines that don’t require standing, such as rowing machines and recumbent exercise bicycles. Some recover over time; some do not.

Dawson said she can’t imagine the “darkness” experienced by patients who lack her access to a network of health care professionals. A retired endocrinologist urged her to have her adrenal function checked. Dawson discovered that her glands were barely producing cortisol, a hormone critical to vital body functions.

Medical progress, she added, is everyone’s best hope.

Stiles, whose organization funds research and provides physician and patient resources, is optimistic.

“Never in history has every major medical center in the world been studying the same disease at the same time with such urgency and collaboration,” she said. “I’m hoping we’ll understand covid and post-covid syndrome in record time.”

KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation.

USE OUR CONTENT

This story can be republished for free (details).

Little-Known Illnesses Turning Up in Covid Long-Haulers published first on https://nootropicspowdersupplier.tumblr.com/

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doberbutts · 4 years ago

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quick-step replied to your post “I’m getting a puppy from a breeder with the hopes of it being my next...”

I would love to know more on how your breeder assed the creed and his brother. Puppy assessments are my week point and I’ve always been curious about the magic your breeder performed in that decision

Honestly I don’t know how Traci did Creed’s litter, outside of that she had 3 different sources to tell her what was going on with them. Herself, the sire’s owner, and then she called in a SAR group to do two more big assessments and then compiled them all together to give her a good idea of what each puppy would do well in, and from there made incredibly accurate decisions on what homes to place them in.

Creed was very highly favored as a solid working dog that could work a public type job (such as SAR, service work, etc) but perhaps was just shy of the nerve and courage required for true protection work outside of sport (which I would honestly agree with- his brothers Grits and Otto are far more suited to that life) and not quite as angry and sharp and defensive as a doberman is supposed to be in protection (which he does have some... but not enough compared to dogs like his two protection brothers). He completely failed his human remains exposure test (according to the SAR people, most domestic dogs have a natural aversion to human remains and show a fear response when presented with the scent- they were looking for dogs that did not have that fear response, and Creed definitely had it) but was still confident in all other aspects and so his breeder found it very important to place him with a home where he’d shine as a dog that was worked 24/7. I did have him retested on human remains for funsies when meeting up with the person who ran both of the SAR tests (and has his brother Trace) and he once again showed aversion and fear when presented with the jar of fat and blood slurry, but was highly interested in other scents such as narcotics, the various nosework scents, and the concept of live find SAR work. Dobermans aren’t common in live find (”scary” breeds generally are not- and some places have laws on evidence found by certain breeds) and I have no interest in nosework as a general rule as I find it fascinating but exceedingly boring re:teaching, so I definitely see why he was declared a SAR wash very early in life and why he eventually ended up with me.

However, I didn’t meet Creed until well after he was assessed, so I’m super interested to meet the proto-Sushi puppies and see how my personal feelings on them might change as they age. While I do run temperament tests for breeders now that I’ve been showed how (by the person who tested Creed’s litter), usually I don’t actually access the litter until they are 8 weeks - 6 months old, so the concept of testing and assessing very tiny young puppies is very new to me because I don’t breed and thus don’t generally have access to puppies under that age. The few times I’ve taken in a rescue litter, it was in conjunction with my parents when I was still a child, so they handled most of that themselves.

#quick-step

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krreader · 4 years ago

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I've had mild symptoms. A tempeture, and cough really. I was in quarantine for 2 weeks and then I had to do another test. I was so glad though since I couldn't go anywhere, I got a lot of my online classes done!!!

I just wanted to post all of these, because you all helped me more than I can say. I was so scared and confused at first, but hearing all your stories made me feel so much better. If any of you is testing positive in the future, save this post and read through it, all these lovely people are a massive help!!!!!!

anonymous asked: my best friend tested positive but they didn’t call her same as you and she payed a little more for a better test and it came out negative. Could be a false positive!

@nendere asked: tips from my friend who's a front line nurse now. You need a lot of hot liquid and nutritious food. But not coffee, that's dehydrating. Keep yourself warm. After 7-15 days your symptoms can disappear if you're taking it lightly. If you have a cough, don't lie down, lay on your side or sit. relax your muscles. stay in a good ventilated room. if you throat starts to hurt, eat a teaspoon of honey. You should not leave the house for a month,for a month you still have the virus and can infect others.

anonymous asked: I’m sorry to hear you got Covid! When it happened to my dad, he actually got really sick. The doctor had him and my whole family quarantine for 14 days and then retest. We all tested too, but luckily were negative, but still had to quarantine. When he finally got a negative test, we were all good to unquarantine. Depending how sick you are tho, take longer if you need it/are able to! Bc my dad really needed longer to recoup than the 14 days and he had side effects for a while.

anonymous asked: Girl dont worry and dont stress yourself my aunt and cousin had it but now they dont anymore drink a lote of water vitamin C and zinc trust everyday do that try to stay a little active like if u live alone do some cleaning to keep u moving if u live in an area thats a little empty just wear ur mask and go for a walk far away from people dont just stay in bed when my aunt had it she said she didnt feel anything she just couldnt smell or taste anything at all like she’ll eat a spoonfull of mustard and not feel a thing. But trust vitaminC zinc water are the key and dont stress aver it its gonna pass i promise we love you Hey im the anon who talked about the vitamin c and zinc also if you have some lemons try to make a lemon juice its also really good

anonymous asked: Omg I hope you’re doing ok and will continue to do so. My mom got COVID a few months back, she had to do 14 days of quarantine or until she had two negative tests in a row. But that’s in Denmark, I’m not sure how Germany handles things😥

anonymous asked: Omg, I hope you get better :( As long as I know you have to stay at home at least for 2 weeks, but idk how true this info is, I live in 3rd world lmao Take care bby 💕

@softyoongistuff asked: Hi! First of all I hope you get well really soon. I have had people in my family who got thise virus. While the virus is deadly, it nothing that young blood can't fight. I am sure you'll get well soon. As for the stay at home thing, quarantine yourself for at least 14 days. Drink lots of immunity booster tea, which includes a pinch of tea, ginger, lemon, and black pepper. Drink this at least 3 times a day, you can add a bit of sugar to it. While its not medically approved? its really affecting in boosting the immunity, as proven according to ayurveda. Take steams. Eat healthy. Do a bit of exercise and deep breathing. Practice some yoga, like pranayam. Record your temperature too. Hope this helps.✊🏼

anonymous asked: Hey Michelle! I’m sorry that you got covid but I’ve been there too (actually, this is my first week after recovering) I’d recommend for you to take paracetamol if you got fever for more than 1 day! Stay at home, rest and be careful with back pains, that can mean something is not right on your lungs! Also, try to take showers only at daytime and to not drink anything cold. What I learnef from this is that those little things can affect and get it worst! Be careful and please, keep us updated! It’s gonna be fine :)💖💖

#awesome tag #information stuff #covid

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talkingtea · 5 years ago

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I don’t think Tom, Danielle or Dani will be back as a season regular. If they do, all of their episodes will have to be planned out in advance. I don’t see Danielle leaving her 5-6 month old (if filming starts in August/September) back in California to be quarantine for a few week, only to be locked in a compound where no one can leave or come in. I don’t see her husband (if he’s worth a gain of salt) agreeing to not seeing his child for 1-3 months. I definitely don’t believe she’ll risk flying with him or her (don’t know what she had, don’t care) unless she’s going to drive to Canada (don’t see it). Truthfully, if what the anon says about them being sequestered she’s out. If they can’t sequestered a nanny or agree to allowing her husband visitation right. I don’t see her coming back next season.🙌🏾 I don’t see Tom agreeing to not see his kids/wife for that long either. Based on what he and the others have said in the past his family are regulars on set.

If Dani have teens and her husband is a regular on set as well. I don’t see her agreeing to be quarantine for a few weeks just to shoot a couple of scenes here and there. From what the anon is saying about filming, anyone that leaves the compound will be quarantine once more for two weeks and retested. Then again, if Dani is that desperate for a job, than she wouldn’t care.

We all know Grant don’t care, and as much as I would love to see Candice married like she wants. Her not being married with kids is going to work in her favor. It means she she can shoot as much as they write her in without worrying about a thing. When she gets her scheduled break she can visit her family no problem. I do believe only the actors/actresses that have open availability will get the most screen time.

I’m positive they’re going to confirm beforehand everyone’s availability and notify the writers that they have these actors/actresses availabile to work with. This also means little to no guest stars. Hopefully, with Grant having open availability this means smart, CSI Barry can make a comeback. I would love to see Flash become more CSI base where they do adult theme stories like the comics. Iris had a killer story in Flash 52 where she uncovered hundreds of dead bodies that were covered up by a big company. When Barry arrived on scene, he joked that she was the one leaving him with all the extra work. Her comeback was that someone had to put him to work. 🥰 When Barry lost his powers and had to go undercover in the mob, faking a gunshot to the head. Iris getting kidnap and kicking all of there asses inside of a moving van, just as she’s jumping out Barry catches her and drops her off at the CCPD and tells her to stay out of trouble. 🤷🏽‍♀️ I don’t understand why it’s so hard to follow actual Flash comic book stories. They’re so much better. I’m praying that anon is right about the possible filming schedule because I foresee lots of Team Citizen (excluding Dani) and CSI Barry. 🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾🤞🏾🤞🏾🤞🏾 Do you guys think writing will be based on availability? I know Eric said he has the next two season storyline for Westallen planned but I hope he not married to those storylines if they involved certain people. 🥴

******************************************

Interesting theory.

We think a lot of things will have to be tweaked but we don’t necessarily think that’s a bad thing.

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maxxfabray · 4 years ago

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A Reunion of Sorts | Kolax

Who: Max Fabray & Kolbe Adams ( @ofrestlessheartsx - Kolbe )

When: Tuesday 2.9.21

Where: Max’s Suite

What: Reunited after two months; smut & knife play (unfinished)

Max

The weekend was a whirlwind of emotions. Emotions Max didn't know how to sift through and she had a lot of making up to do. By the time Tuesday morning came, she exhausted. She'd burned through the small amount of positive energy she had left and was now in an endless pit of guilt. Guilt for snapping at her sisters, guilt for standing Mike up, guilt for ignoring Kolbe, and most of all guilt from what took her away from the academy in the first place. Everything was a reminder of her failures and her addiction. The most scaring reminder having happened the previous day when she ran into Ash. It seemed like everything was crashing down and she needed to do something right. She needed to do right by Kolbe. So she went straight back to her room after class to prepare for their scene. She cleaned herself, cleaned her knives and put new sheets onto her bed. All she had to do was wait.

Kolbe

Finishing off a shower and packing some clothes into his backpack after clubs, the submissive checked the time and noted that it was time to leave. Kolbe had been quite annoyed with Max when she had messaged him that morning as though she hadn't disappeared on him, as though she hadn't left him on read. It would have been as simple as just telling him she was going to bed, or whatever, but instead she had just ignored him. He shook his head, trying to push away the frustrations as he walked to Max's room, his bag slung over his shoulder. He didn't even know if he was still spending the night, but he figured it was better to be prepared just in case. Reaching her room, he knelt down and then knocked a few times on the door. This was something he had been looking forward to, and hopefully the night could be reclaimed.

Max

Max didn't know how long she was staring at the wall when she finally heard the knock at the door. She shook it off and refocused on the door, trying to apply some of the confidence she used to wear so easily before. She checked the mirror, making sure her smile was in place then opened the door to greet her guest. At least with Kolbe, he brought some actual comfort and she had high hopes that this scene would help mend whatever Max possibly broke. "Hey, handsome." She ran her fingers through his hair then pulled him up by the shoulder so she could properly greet him with a kiss. Like nothing was wrong... because nothing was wrong. "We're going to have a great time tonight."

Kolbe

When the door opened and Max was standing there, he did let out a slow breath. At the very least she hadn't left him hanging tonight. Kolbe moved to his feet when he was moved to do so and despite feeling the lingering pangs of annoyance and frustration, he returned the kiss. Hopefully this evening together would help him get over being left on read the night before. Normally, that wasn't something that would necessarily bother him so much. But being in a submissive head space, it had left him feeling a bit more vulnerable than he was used to. "I'm looking forward to it, Beaut." He responded, because that wasn't a lie. He had been really looking forward to the night with Max and he still was.

Max

Just seeing Kolbe, then holding him and kissing him made her feel instantly better. This was a good thing. She could get out of her own head and just focus solely on the man in front of her. Closing the door behind him, she linked hands and pulled him in through the living room and into her bedroom. "I got new knives from Fauna for Christmas that I'm going to use for you." She pointed to the table where the knives were laid out on a blanket. She turned to him with a familiar glint in her eyes and pulled at the top of his pants. "But first and foremost, let's get these clothes off of you. You still hard for me?"

Kolbe

He glanced at the knives, humming softly. "They look really pretty." He said honestly, before his attention turned back to the Switch as she grabbed at his pants."Yeah, Queen. I'm definitely still hard for you." He uttered softly. The day in class had been more than a little uncomfortable and part of him had wished that he had made himself cum the night before if only so that class had been more comfortable. But hopefully, at least, he would get something out of not making himself cum when she had disappeared.

Max

At his confirmation, she grabbed him through the front of his jeans as she pulled him into another searing kiss. Her hands made quick work of removing his pants, pushing them down as she nipped at his jaw and neck. She took his length in her hand and stroked it at an agonizingly slow pace. "Is this what you thought of while you stroked your cock for me?" When that wasn't satisfying enough, she dropped to her knees and took the tip of his cock into her mouth. "Or was it this?" She moaned around his length, while one hand stroked the base and the other cupped his balls.

Kolbe

The way his pants and boxers were quickly removed wasn't something he would complain about as his cock sprung free. He gasped as she grabbed his cock, her touch exacerbating what he was already feeling. "Fuck, both, Queen..but I've really missed your mouth. Your mouth feels so good on my cock." Kolbe assured her, doing his best not to to press his hips forward. One thing that he consistently reminded himself of during scenes was that he wasn't in control. And that lack of control actually felt good. Max could do whatever she wanted with him right now and he would let her.

Max

That was a tone Max was more used to and already things started to feel like they were back on track. Max loved the reactions she was getting from Kolbe, the selfish part of her enjoying that it was all for her. Pulling back with a pop, she wiped the side of her mouth and grinned at him as she got back on her feet. "Fuck you look so sexy like that." Take off the rest of your clothes, sweetness and go lay down on the bed for me. And while you're doing that, choose a number between one and seven."

Kolbe

"Yes, Queen." He removed his clothing without a second thought. This was far from the first time he had been naked in front of someone and also wasn't his first time naked in front of Max, so he didn't really hold any worries in removing his clothes. "Between one and seven..." He uttered softly, moving towards the bed and getting comfortable on it. "Five, Queen." He finally responded, curious as to what exactly he had just picked.

Max

Max watched with careful eyes as more and more skin was exposed and Kolbe laid back on the bed. He was gorgeous and sometimes it distracted her, but she maintained focus because she couldn't wait to break into his skin. She smirked and counted down the row of knives. "1. 2. 3. 4. 5." Stopping on the fifth one down, she picked up the longest blade in her newest collection and made her way over to the submissive. "Isn't she pretty?" Max flipped it around so he could get a clear view of it. Then she straddled his stomach and held it to his throat. "Remember our first time?"

Kolbe

"She's very pretty. But not as pretty as the person holding her." He quipped, eyes moving between the blade and the Switch. "Of course I remember our first time, Queen. How could I forget?" Kolbe questioned, fighting against the urge within him to grasp onto her waist. She looked so pretty above him, but he knew that touching without permission was only going to make things more difficult on him.

Max

"Oh, aren't you a charming boy." Max dragged the blade down the front of his chest, carefully so she wouldn't break skin... yet. "You know I think about our first time a lot." She scraped his arms and the tops of his knuckles as she rubbed her ass up and down the top of his length. "It was so evident that you were a good boy. Such a good boy." Max smirked as she leaned down to kiss his chin, then his lips. "It makes me wildly possessive that I was the one that got to see that part of you before you retested. Hm..." She went on, "Where should I cut you first?"

Kolbe

He groaned softly when Max dragged the knife against his chest, fighting against the urge to lean into the touch. "A lot, Queen? How much is a lot?" Kolbe questioned, smirking up at the blonde resting on top of him. Her calling him a good boy caused the content feeling that he always got to settle into his stomach. "Thanks, Beaut. I had a hell of a lot of fun with you that night." He assured her, returning the kiss. His eyebrow quirked at the mention of feeling possessive, looking up at her. "Where do you think it would look the best?"

Max

Pulling up her skirt and pulling her panties to the side, she rubbed her pussy on the top of his cock, moaning at the sensation. "I think about it when I touch myself." she dropped her voice to a whisper. "You know how many times I made myself cum in rehab thinking about that first time?" She smirked. "A lot." Max moved down his body, moving to kneel in between his legs, wanting to wrap her mouth around him again. She moaned around his length, pressing the blade to the top of his thigh. Her intention was to mix the pain with an edge and she planned on doing just that. So she focused on his cock, bobbing her head up and down bringing him closer and closer to the edge. "Remember, you're not a loud to cum. So you better tell me when you're close."

TW: cutting, knifeplay

HC; Every time Kolbe was on the verge of cumming, Max could press the blade into his skin and cut him on his hips and thighs just as his orgasm was ruined. She wanted to tie the two sensations together for the ultimate torture. They did that a total of 5 times before she let him cum, cutting him once more right above his pelvis bone as he fell over the edge, wanting to tie the sensation to something pleasurable as well.

#kolbe #para: kolbe #para: a reunion of sorts #( hooked on a feeling ; and that feeling is you )#tw: knifeplay

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wipeoutms · 4 years ago

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Finally Got My Vitamin D Up

I finally got my vitamin D level up into a normal range; it took quite a while to get it there. Part of the problem is when you take a vitamin D supplement you have to continue taking them for 3 months before you test again and see what level you are at..

I started by taking a 1,000 units per day to see how that would work. After taking that amount I went and retested and was told I was at 28 mg/ml. This was below the 30 mg/ml mark, which meant I needed to increase the dosage..

My next increase was to 2,000 units per day and found when tested that I had actually lost ground as I was at 24 mg/ml.

At that point the doctor asked me if I wanted to go back on prescription strength vitamin D, 50,000 units per week. I decided to try going to a higher over-the-counter dose of 5,000 units per day.

I tested the other day finally and I'm sitting at 34 mg/ml. During this time I found the recommendation had changed from 30 mg/ml to 50 mg/ml to 20 mg/ml, to 50 mg/ml. That being said 34 mg/ml puts me right in the middle of the safe range. I should be able to maintain my vitamin D level now and will see if there are any improvements with my Multiple Sclerosis

Image by PublicDomainPictures from Pixabay

#MS #Multiple Sclerosis #Vitamin D #VitaminD #MyMS

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rinskiroo · 5 years ago

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So this year was a little rough writing wise. I set a goal of 100k, which was only half of what I did last year, and that didn’t pan out. There were some medical issues that popped up, though I passed my cholesterol retest which was the big hurdle so yay. School is still really hard and what takes the majority of my mental and social energies. (I’m not even the one in school!) Those things all ate up the time I usually spend on writing, sadly.

I’m still going to track my words this year, and because the spreadsheet I use requires a goal, I might make it just 50k since I was close to that this year. My main goal is to finish at least one of the long fics I’m working on and to put out 6 one-shots. It’s doable? Maybe? If I finish most of the long fic in the next 3 months? (It’s already 22k words and still feels like it’s just getting started...)

We’re moving again this year. Our time in Japan is ending this summer though we don't know yet where we’re headed next. We’re also going to Thailand! It will be my kids first time there and we’re going to meet some extended family. Great-grandma and my MIL will be traveling with us (translating for us) and enjoying temples, shopping, and ELEPHANTS. :D

I was hoping I’d hit 500 tumblr followers before the new year, but I didn’t want to be weird about it. xD I got close! 495! (Also if I could stop losing AO3 subs cuz wow that’s painful, but eh. Can’t do anything about it except write more, I guess.)

2019 wasn’t too bad, all things considering. In 2009, I was living in England, struggling to get pregnant, and not writing at all. In 2019, I had seen FOUR YEARS of huge creative endeavours and growth, made so many amazing new friends, have two loud and loving boys, LIVING IN JAPAN. MY FUCKING DREAM. I’ve been back to Tokyo twice, Hiroshima (AMAZING CITY), Osaka, Hong Kong, snorkeling in some of the most pristine waters on the planet. I went to Pokemon GO Fest, flew on a C-5, watched my baby brother get married, became an aunt (3x).

Ok so this was about writing and ended up being about my life BUT I hope that you all have a great 2020. May fandom gods smile down upon you, your favorite fics get updates, your tv show gets renewed, your OTP hooks up, you catch the shiny pokemon you want. Also, REGISTER TO VOTE AND THEN DO IT.

#about me #me irl #writing #2020 #new year

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hailqiqi · 5 years ago

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Message Received and Misunderstood

Once a promising fighter pilot candidate with the best skin in the Garrison, Lance Serrano is now relegated to languishing in cargo training during the day and locking himself in the library at night, sacrificing his self-care for a pile of textbooks like the nerds he used to make fun of.

He doesn't even bother talking to the other late-night regulars -- the boy with the Rubik's Cube, the girl who chews her pens too loudly, or the Sadako-wannabe who's always the only other person in there at midnight.

Friends will only distract him, and he needs to study.

Rating: G

Chapter One: First Contact

4,622 words | Read on AO3

So here’s my contribution to the @planceminibang! Beta’d by the wonderful @sp4c3-0ddity and with art (Chapter 3!) from the fantastically-talented @artemisarya, here’s a little teenage sweetness that’s a bit different from my normal offerings.

Enjoy!

5TH JANUARY

The rough calculations on the page had long since blurred together by the time his phone blinks for break time, and Lance slumps forward onto the table with a groan.

Twenty minutes. Another twenty minutes that he’s been at this stupid problem, and despite filling both sides of the page up with calculations, he’s still no closer to figuring out if a hafnium carbide vessel would survive the stress of a gravity assist off Saturn or not.

He lifts his head and glares at the paper. Two points were all that had stood between him and making fighter pilot; instead, he’s stuck in cargo training and desperately trying to pull up his grades at night because he needs an extra fifty to make it in off a retest. And despite the lack of sleep and him studying harder than he ever had in his life — even harder than he had for the entrance exams — it’s now half-way through the school year and he’s still staring down a failing grade.

All because of freaking materials science.

Maybe he should just give up. There’s no shame in being a cargo pilot, mijo, his mom had said. Cargo pilots make a steady wage — a good wage, enough to raise a family and have a lot left over. The job wasn’t as boring as it sounded, and there were still opportunities to leave the atmosphere (and while he’d been bottom of fighter, he was top of the cargo class so he’d definitely be given the space runs).

But cargo isn’t what he wants. Maybe he’s being immature, but he wants to swoop and soar and feel the world fall out from underneath him at mach speeds when he jiggles the stick. You can’t do a barrel roll in a cargo ship, even in space.

His phone flashes again and he leans back in his seat, hands over his eyes as he begins to recite the problem again.

“If the hafnium carbide heat shields are two inches thick and have a tensile strength of 14,000 psi at 2,000 degrees…”

It’s way too freaking late for this.

“And Saturn’s gravity is 10.44, and we’re travelling in a prograde direction during the assist and approach from…” This bit he can do. The miss distance, the outgoing velocity, the amount of fuel needed — he’d calculated it so many times now he can rattle the whole thing off by memory, but once he gets past the flight calculations he needs to check his notes to know what happens next. “And then…”

He glances at the paper, checks both sides, and groans again, one hand in his hair. “...And then some random amount of heat is generated and I guess the stupid shuttle explodes and everybody dies, ‘cause I’ll be a flying space cow if I know if it survives or not.”

A snort of laughter from behind makes him jump.

He whips around in his seat, heart in his throat because it’s eleven p.m., who the heck is in the library at this hour?, only to be met by a pair of laughing brown eyes half-hidden behind a curtain of equally brown hair.

Oh, yeah. Her. The only other person crazy enough to be in the library every night, even though he’s fairly sure she’s not studying for the resit since he doesn’t recognise her from any of his classes last year. In all the months they’ve shared a space they’ve barely exchanged a nod, but it looks like that’s about to change because she’s actually speaking to him.

“I’m sorry,” the girl is saying, mirth still flowing in her tone and not looking sorry in the slightest. “That was just really funny.”

Lance rolls his eyes. “I’m glad someone finds it funny.” He begins to turn away but then stops, desperation prodding him to use this opportunity. “You...wouldn’t happen to know the answer, would you?”

The girl looks surprised. “What’s the question? Whether or not the heat shields would survive the gravity assist?” Lance nods, and she blinks. “Well, yeah, of course they would.”

“Uh...Say what?”

“Yes, they’d survive. Zero material stress, actually,” she repeats steadily, her head tilted in confusion.

“Oh… Thanks,” he manages, and she shrugs and turns back to her textbook.

Lance grabs his sheet of paper, fumbling it in his haste to turn it over and go over all the calculations again because she sounds so sure, like it’s an easy question when he’s been at it for almost a freaking hour now with no results.

What did he miss? He must have missed something. Something obvious? Where are his notes on Kepler’s laws?

With five minutes left on the study clock he gives in and turns back to the girl. The Library Sadako, he’d nicknamed her, since her hair is always covering her face and her pyjamas are as shapeless as a ghost’s robes. Plus she had a habit of appearing and disappearing from the library all but soundlessly.

But right now she’s his last hope.

“So, uh… How do you prove it?”

She glances up at him, an irritated frown on her face at the interruption, and Lance realises there are bags under her eyes too. But her tone is neutral when she clarifies, “The material stress question?”

Lance nods, and she puts her pencil down and eyes him curiously. “You don’t need to prove it. Those are the specs for The Obol’s heat shields, and that flight path was the one for the return Saturn assist from the Kerberos mission last year. Remember?”

The ticking of the clock in the corner is suddenly much too loud, and all he can do is stare.

“You don’t need to prove it,” she repeats, exasperation creeping into her tone. “It’s already been proven. That’s one of the general knowledge questions.”

He spins back around, practically snarling in frustration as he digs through his papers to find the mock with the question on it.

When he finally finds it, it’s all he can do not to burn the damn thing. Stupid, stupid, stupid… She’s right, and there’s only two lines for an answer. Nowhere near enough space for the pages of vector diagrams and formulas covering his scrap paper.

And he’d wasted an hour on this. Stupid, stupid, stupid…

Maybe he should just go back to the farm. Veronica wouldn’t have been this dumb. Heck, Keith wouldn’t have been this dumb and the guy wasn’t exactly the brightest in the bunch. Still, Keith’s in fighter class while Lance is languishing in cargo, so if Keith’s stupid what does that make Lance?

Really stupid. Space-level stupid. The stupidest stupid to—

The thud of books hitting the table next to him rips him from his thoughts, and he looks up in surprise to see the girl pulling out the chair next to him, a hesitant smile on her face.

“When I studied for the entrance tests, I always found it easier to focus at night when I had my brother with me, even if we didn’t talk,” she says, one hand on the back of her neck as she sits down. “So, uh, maybe some company will help?”

Without waiting for an answer, she arranges her books, flipping open a notebook and textbook with practiced ease and beginning work on what looks like a flight mechanics question. Lance watches her for a moment, unsure, then sighs and flips to the next question on the paper.

Maybe she’s right. He might as well give it a go, since his solo progress has been nothing to brag about.

It’s almost midnight, anyway.

*****

10TH FEBRUARY

As it turns out, Sadako’s name is Katie, and she’s studying for the same exam he is.

But not because she failed round one, like Lance. She’s two grades below him and looking to skip a year.

Lance can’t help but find it a little bit galling, especially when it’s 11 p.m. and she’s just finished walking him through a Critical Reasoning question for the third time like it’s nothing. The formulas — formulae — are all neatly laid out on the paper, but Lance still doesn’t get it.

“Why are you even here?!” he blurts out, his jaw aching from the frustration. Katie recoils, her mouth hanging open and hurt flashing across her face and — oh — he hadn’t meant for that to sound so harsh.

Especially not when she’d put so much effort into helping him over the last month.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, taking the pencil from her hand gently and putting it down before running his hand through his hair. “It’s just...none of this seems even a little bit hard for you. Why are you bothering to stay up like this?”

It’s something he’s wondered for a while. Katie’s been the only other person in the library until closing almost every night since fall so he’d always assumed they were in similar places, but now they were actually studying together…

“Oh,” she says, the tension leaving her posture again. Apology accepted, Lance guesses, but her eyes linger on his material science textbook instead of him, and her fingers fiddle with the ends of her long hair as she speaks. “Um, well, mat-sci really isn’t that hard for me. My dad’s...uh, my dad works for the Garrison as an engineer, and he does a lot of R&D and he always talks about his work at home, so…”

Katie taps the book, looking distinctly uncomfortable for some reason. Lance raises an eyebrow. “So if you haven’t been studying this, what have you been studying all this time?”

“Flight manuals,” Katie replies, finally meeting his gaze again, and Lance is relieved to see a spark in her eyes again. “I’ve only flown the droids a few times, and some of the older planes in basic, but the practical is a big part of the class exams and since there’s no way I’m going to get any actual practice, if I at least memorise all the flight manuals and mechanics and everything then I should have a shot.”

“Memorise the flight manuals?!”

“Yeah!” Lance stares at her as she chatters on enthusiastically, seemingly oblivious to how absurd that suggestion is in the first place. “A strong foundation in the theory can never be a replacement for practical experience, but it can be the difference between a weak pass and a fail. Of course I’ve been brushing up on stuff like this as well”—she pats the textbook twice—“because the closer I get to a hundred percent on the other subjects, the less a poor practical score will matter. I’ve tried to code my own simulations too” —you’ve tried to what?!—“but obviously I can’t replicate the physical aspects of the hardware with my laptop. I mean, I’d try a set-up of books and stuff just to get the motions down but then my roommate would probably complain even m—”

Lance bursts out laughing, cutting her ramble off abruptly, and Katie narrows her eyes at him.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing.” Laughter still threatens to bubble over, but he pushes it down as he explains, “Just...that’s a lot!” His gaze falls to the notes from their study session and the pile of books spread across the desk, and he suddenly realises how he can pay her back a little. “Hey, my prac scores were pretty high, so I can help you out with that stuff if you want?”

A warm, genuine smile spreads across Katie’s face as she looks at him, and Lance realises with a start it’s the first time he’s seen it. It transforms her, turning her from a tired teenager in pyjamas into something his exhausted brain vaguely recognises as the sun.

“Really?!” Her tone is way too vibrant for this hour of night, and her hair swings back and forth as she bobs in her seat. “That would be the best! Thank you!”

Lance beams.

*****

20TH FEBRUARY

Hunk is rambling nervously about his last sim class as students bustle through the hallways when Lance’s phone finally buzzes with a reply.

Mid-terms are in two weeks. Of course I’m coming tonight. Usual time?

He shoots off a thumbs-up and turns back to tune into Hunk’s chatter.

“—and then he broke the whole comms deck and Lance, what if he does that during our mid-terms? Keith already made Iverson angry — and I mean really angry — and oh, if we get marked down on the pracs because of it then I’m really going to need to pull up my avionics and aero science scores if I want to stay in the top ten,” Hunk continues, breathless. “Oh man, I have no idea how I’m going to do that on top of all this other stuff we have to study! I don’t even want to leave the ground, why do I have to learn how to fly the stupid things?!”

Lance glances up from his phone, a smirk already on his lips. “Because you went to flight school, maybe?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me!” Hunk slumps back against the wall and groans. “Hands down the Biggest. Mistake. Of my life.”

Lance’s phone buzzes with a reply. He checks it quickly, excitement filling him when he sees the small thumbs up icon.

“Hey, if you’re worried about your exam scores, why don’t you study with us in the library sometimes?”

Hunk pauses, expression turning devious as he straightens up and turns to face him. “Us? You mean you and your study girlfriend?”

He waggles his eyebrows meaningfully, and Lance rolls his eyes, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

“Katie. And you know she’s not my girlfriend. She’s good to study with, though, and she said you should come.”

“Hm.” Hunk’s expression doesn’t change. If anything, his smirk grows more irritating. “Okay, I’m in. It’s about time I met the elusive Katie, anyway.”

*****

10TH MARCH

The first time Lance sees Katie in daylight is at a diner near campus the week after mid-terms.

“Why don’t you just ask your brother, Pidge?” Hunk asks accusatorially, wielding a fry at the girl across the table rolling her eyes at them. “Can’t he like, just log in and tell me my scores? Given that he’s a famous astronaut and all.”

Katie — Pidge, he has to remember to call her Pidge now because she freaking deserves it after all the lies she told him in the library — grabs the fry from Hunk’s grasp and pops it into her mouth, chewing it deliberately slowly before swallowing and replying with a frown, “You know it doesn’t work like that. And stop calling me Pidge.”

“Aw, but Pidge is such a good nickname. Cute Pidgey-Widgey Pigeon.” Hunk pops another fry into his mouth as Pidge’s expression darkens.

(For someone who spends most of his time worrying, he’s a heck of a lot braver facing certain death than Lance would be.)

“Oh my God, can’t you just drop it?”

“Nope,” he replies, smirk still firmly in place. “It’s your punishment for keeping secrets. Isn’t that right, Lance?”

Lance glances from Hunk to Pidge, then decides that self-preservation is for losers after all.

“Totally.” He quirks an eyebrow, inwardly delighting at how her eyes narrow as they focus on him. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. You’re the one who was all ‘oh, I’m just good at this because my dad’s an engineer’ and totally forgot to mention that he wrote the freaking textbook.”

“Ugh!” Katie slumps forward, all but slamming her forehead on the table. “Look, I’m sorry if I didn’t tell you guys, but people hear the name ‘Holt’ and get weird, okay?”

The last bit comes out as a mumble, and Lance feels a stab of sympathy. The weight of having successful siblings is something he understands well; he can only imagine the pressure of coming from an entire line of Garrison royalty.

Then again… “We’ve been friends for months, Katie,” he points out. “It just sucks that we had to find out because your famous astronaut brother appeared in the library and started calling you ‘Pidge’.”

Katie raises her head, lips pursed in annoyance. “So what, you guys are going to stop using my real name as my penance or something?”

“Exactly,” Hunk says decisively. “Like, I wouldn’t have cared if you’d told us — hey, Matt was pretty cool, and it’s so freaking amazing that your dad is like one of my engineering heroes — but finding it out like that sucked. You should’ve trusted us enough to tell us.” He pauses, then goes for the kill. “I thought we were friends.”

Her face falls, and Lance is vaguely aware that they might have overdone it.

*****

25TH MARCH

The post-Matt interrogation at the diner starts something. Soon, Pidge is joining them for lunch in the canteen every day, and then breakfast, and then before Lance has really processed it their duo has become a trio and it feels weird to think of a time when Pidge wasn’t in their group.

Moments like now, though, remind him.

“Why would he make a fool of himself?”

“Because that,” Hunk answers with a flourish, gesturing at Jenny’s retreating back, “was—”

And Lance suddenly realises that he doesn’t want Pidge to know about this.

He quickly slaps a hand over Hunk’s mouth, ignoring his muffled indignation to smile awkwardly at Pidge. “Y’know what? It doesn’t matter. You don’t need t— armmf!”

Less than two seconds later he’s struggling to breathe, strong muscles wrapped firmly around his head and torso and the pungent smell of Hunk’s armpit filling his nostrils.

“That,” Hunk continues, barely affected by Lance’s struggles for freedom, “was Jenny Shayburn.”

“Who’s Jenny Shayburn?” Pidge asks, and Lance can just imagine her expression: one eyebrow raised with that look that says why must you be like this? as she watches their tussle.

Or, well, Lance would like to call it a tussle. Hunk probably just sees it as an inconvenience.

“Oh, just the love of Lance’s life and his obsession for the last two years. No big deal.”

Lance slumps against Hunk’s chest and groans. Both Pidge and Hunk latch onto gossip with the ferocity of his brother’s old terrier.

“Oh,” she says, her tone flat. “Weird.”

Lance pushes away from Hunk, who releases him without a fight, but he can’t find any relief in his reprieve. Pidge’s fingers grip her cup tightly as she sips, her gaze fixed on the students entering and leaving the canteen, and Lance feels an odd weight settle in his stomach.

What’s he supposed to say to that? A part of him wants to protest that he hasn’t thought about Jenny in ages, but it feels like... What’s that Shakespeare quote? The one about the lady protesting?

That.

Hunk glances between them, a calculating expression on his face as he takes in the tension at the table, then waves at Pidge to get her attention. “So,” he begins, tone sly, “is there anyone you like? Any special boy in our little Pigeon’s life?”

Lance rolls his eyes and tries to look as disinterested as possible, even though a part of him is on tenterhooks waiting for the answer. It’s not a topic they’ve ever broached in their hangouts.

“Sorry, no,” Pidge answers quickly, but she’s avoiding their gaze and the lie is obvious, and Lance suddenly wonders who it is and if he could take him in a fight.

Though it’s not like he cares.

“Aw, c’mon, you can tell us,” Hunk cajoles, nudging Lance far too hard in the chest with his elbow. “Bet you loverboy Lance here can give you some tips for catching his eye.”

“Uh, yeah! Sure!” He runs a hand through his bangs, feigning a confidence he’s not feeling. “Advice. I can totally help ya out.”

He grins and shoots her some fingerguns, adding a wink for good measure. There. That was natural.

The deadpan expression on her face doesn’t change (maybe he’s lost his touch?).

“Thanks, but no thanks,” she replies at length, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. “Look, it’s just a crush and he doesn’t like me back anyway. Can we change the topic now?”

For whatever reason, Hunk obliges, and the weird tension that had hung over the table dissipates fairly quickly as they move on to safer topics. The strange taste in Lance’s mouth lingers, though, and he’s not sure why.

*****

3RD APRIL

Everybody else in the diner is watching and chuckling and Pidge looks like she’s about to die, but really — she should know by now that they take that as encouragement.

“Haaapppy birthday dear Pigeon…” they bellow, Hunk adding an impressive vibrato on the low note. “Haaapppy birthday tooo—” Lance manages to take it up way-too-high there, grinning proudly when Pidge winces from behind her hands— “you!”

They finish with a poor attempt at harmonisation, bodies half-out of the booth with a flourish of jazz hands as the rest of the restaurant bursts into laughter, whoops and applause.

“Oh my God…” Pidge mutters, finally removing her hands from her face as the noise dies down. “Can I blow these stupid things out now?!”

Her tone is deadpan but her cheeks are a bright pink, but the sparkle in her eyes is what really gives her away. She’s pleased, she just thinks she’s too cool to show it.

(Or something. Sometimes Pidge really confuses him.)

After several unsuccessful attempts to blow them out, Pidge plucks the sparklers from her pile of pancakes and rapidly-melting ice cream and dunks them both in Lance’s water before he can stop her. Then she waves the dead sparklers in his direction with narrowed eyes and hisses, “I know the sparklers were your idea.”

“You wound me!!” Lance protests, his hand on his heart as he pretends to swoon. “You should know by now I only have your wellbeing at heart!”

“Nah, she’s not that dumb, buddy,” Hunk adds. Pidge snorts, turning into a full-blown laugh when Lance flops onto the table dramatically at Hunk’s betrayal, getting ice-cream in his hair in the process.

They dig into their pancakes with gusto, discussing their plans for when spring break starts the next day (Lance and Pidge are both heading home — Lance to Cuba to help with the calving and ploughing, Pidge to her family’s house just outside post — while Hunk is staying on at school for the fortnight) and debating the perfect topping combination and whether or not they’d be able to eat them when they finally made their way into space. It’s the most carefree meal Lance has had in a while — the perfect end to a busy term — and it’s enough to make him forget about the gift bag on the seat next to him.

But eventually the plates are cleared and the butterflies come back full-force when Hunk drops his gift on the table with a thud.

“Seriously?!” Pidge exclaims, beaming as she looks between them. “Guys, you didn’t need to!”

“Hey, this one’s just from me! Open it.” He pushes the box towards Pidge, winking surreptitiously at Lance as he adds, “Lance has his own present for you.”

Pidge tears into Hunk’s gift with gusto, her eyes lighting up as she removes what looks like a very small version of the throttle used in the fighter sims. Hunk starts rattling off its specs — he’d picked up an old one and basically reengineered the part with help from his whiz-kid pilot — and Pidge launches into a series of questions, almost all of which fly way over Lance’s head.

He tunes out of the conversation somewhere around the point where they start making plans for Hunk to visit her over the break to help install it, instead choosing to sit back and watch his friends interact. The hair in Katie’s ponytail is swinging all over the place as she does that excited bobbing thing she does, and he can’t help but think that it’s ridiculously cute.

A well-placed elbow rips Lance from his thoughts and he hurriedly grabs the bag and shoves it across the table, almost tipping it over in the process and wincing at how uncool he must look.

He quickly flashes a pose and follows it up with a wink and fingerguns (fingerguns can save any situation. Fact). “Mine’s the best, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Pidge drawls with a smile, but her brow furrows as she accepts the bag and looks inside. “Uh, did you forget your umbrella in here…?”

“Oh! No, no, that’s for you.” Hunk’s shoulders are shaking with laughter beside him, and Lance can feel his cheeks heating up. “Just like, you seem like a practical girl, and an umbrella’s a practical gift!”

The fingerguns come out again, and Pidge rolls her eyes with a laugh as she places the green-and-blue umbrella to the side (really he’d just picked it up so he wasn’t just giving her the other thing, but she didn’t need to know that). “Okay…”

The butterflies return in full force as she opens the bag again and pulls out the slim box, her expression shifting to one of surprise as she recognises it.

“Go on. Open it,” he says, answering the question in her eyes, and he can’t help his lips from pulling up into a smile when she does so and gasps.

“Lance…” She looks from him to the necklace in the box, eyes wide and lips parted, then shakes her head. “Lance, I can’t accept this! It must have cost you a fortune.”

But the way she’s looking at it — at him — lets him know that she really wants to, and that’s enough for the butterflies to finally settle into something warm and soft instead.

“Nah, it wasn’t that much.” Only his whole allowance for the month, but she didn’t need to know that, either. “I just saw it and thought it would suit you. And you only turn sixteen once, right?”

She flashes him a smile and looks back at the necklace, eyes soft as her fingertip traces over the intricate gold and green pendant. He’s telling the truth about thinking it would suit her — he saw it on a trip to the mall and immediately wanted to get it for Pidge, and that was before he’d known her birthday was coming up.

Hunk is nudging him with his elbow, making weird noises that Lance knows translate to ‘See? See? I told you she’d like it’ and Lance feels an urge to laugh because he’d been so stupidly nervous about giving her his gift — even though it’s just a necklace! It’s not like it’s a ring or anything else with some weird hidden meaning.

“Could you help me put it on?”

He stares at Pidge, startled by the shy question. Her cheeks are a bright pink but she’s not looking away and he nods dumbly, rooted to the spot until Hunk all but shoves him out of the booth and towards Pidge’s side.

“I, uh… Sure.”

His fingers barely tremble as he removes the necklace from the proffered box, and then Pidge is leaning forward and flipping her ponytail out of the way and before he really knows what’s going on he’s fastened the clasp and is drawing away from the pale, freckled skin of her neck and back to his side of the booth (which suddenly feels so, so far away), fingertips burning as he takes his seat again.

“Thanks.” Pidge beams at him as she fiddles with the pendant displayed on her chest.

Lance nods dumbly, heart pounding. Her skin was so soft. Are all girls that soft?

He glances from Pidge’s smile to the pendant, finally breaking into a genuine smile himself as one thought crosses his mind.

He was right. It does suit her.

#plance #pidgance #flirtyrobot #lidge #pance #my writing #plance mini bang #high school au #sort of? idk we'll just say that kerberos was a success and the galra don't exist #What If We Were Alone In The Universe #oops now we're getting all Jayden Smith existential #except the galra must exist because keith exists BUT ANYWAY they didn't catch Shiro or the Holts #probably because they looked into the future and realised Pidge is fucking terrifying and they'd better leave her fam alone if they want #the empire to remain intact #ANYWAY #have some teenage angst

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