#first i was told to name all my diagnosis so i did and then when they were on poke number 3 for IV access

[balrogballs]

For the I wish you would write a fic game, I wish you write the Faramir and Elrond burning convo you teased……. 😩

LMAOOO YOU’RE ALL USING THIS ASK MEME TO SEND ME THE WORLD’S MOST SOUL DESTROYING PROMPTS AREN’T YOU 😭😭😭 I assume you mean the funeral pyre is not death one, if so, here you go

tw: immolation

“When Elessar told you of my father’s demise you nodded like the rest,” says Faramir, quietly. “But there was no horror in your eyes, Lord Elrond. You pronounced no diagnosis of his madness. You did not call him a fool, did not cast your judgement upon him.”

“No, I did not,” the lord’s tone is cool, nearly apathetic. Faramir closes his eyes and pictures it again. What open, terrible, twisted grief must have opened itself up on Denethor’s face?

A funeral pyre is not death in itself, any more than a wedding ceremony is love or an infant’s naming ceremony a birth. All three are rituals, rigid and final and prescribed, by which the living seek to tether themselves to invisible things: to death, to love, to life. A funeral pyre is not death, it is unbearable grief pressed into a tight, dark shape in hopes that it will detonate and dissipate. Simply an attempt to capture, for a moment, something — or someone — that can no longer be held. In that way, if in no other, Elrond had understood Denethor.

“There are many things I blame your father for,” says Elrond quietly. “And the list includes his treatment of his second son. But his choice to step into the flame I cannot judge.”

“But why, my lord? You, who have chosen immortality, who —“

Elrond shrugs, gives him a half-smile. He holds out his hands to Faramir, palms upward. From a distance, the skin is smooth, flawless.

Faramir grasps the offered hands and runs his own fingers across the ridges in the palm, the heavy cut of his nails, the peeling skin of the cuticles, a thumb-tip bitten to the quick — man hands, he thinks. No true elf has hands like these. Perfect from a distance, weary and ragged at the edges, like the lord himself. And then he looks even closer, and sees the shine on uneven patches of skin, invisible to the naked eye unless held so close as to be uncomfortably intimate, like they stand now. At the edges of the shining patches, the skin bunched slightly, gathered its skirts and pulled away, as if to escape from the old wound.

“These hands,” says Faramir quietly. “These hands have burned to the bone once, have they not?"

"Tell me what you know of Ereinion Gil-Galad,” Elrond asks calmly, though his expression is anything but. What open, terrible, twisted grief must have opened itself up on Denethor’s face? Faramir thinks he knows.

“The last high king of the Noldor,” he whispers reverently, reciting an old lesson. “He who first struck down Sauron, he who lanced his armour. He, who upon an ungloved touch from the sorcerer, burst into flame upon the slopes of Orodruin. He, who from light came, he, whom to light returned.”

“He, who was my greatest friend in the world,” Elrond’s voice is hoarse beneath his pleasant smile. "And had Círdan not dragged me away from him and shoved me towards Isildur — he, whom I would have burned to dust beside.”

[xviruserrorx]

I will say one of the funniest parts of this last hospital stay was accidentally frazzling my nurses and doctors on accident

[gguk-n]

Chapter 1- The Arrangement

Arranged For Love (Carlos Sainz Jr x Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Everything seemed to be going well for Y/N until it doesn't. Will this life altering event bring her closer to her family. Will this life altering event introduce her to Carlos?

The reader is Y/N, other than that everyone has a name

Y/N was majoring in Business; just like her grandma, Anika Baker had wanted. "You're smart, you're rational and the best of all you're kind" she would tell her grand daughter growing up. That's why she was currently studying to maybe take over her family business when she grew up.

She grew up in a matriarchy, where after the untimely death of her grandfather; her grandmother took the lead and brought the company to where it is now. Eventually, she did step back and let her son, Ivan and daughter-in-law, Rose Aguirre handle it. That was when Y/N was born. The first born of their family, she was so pampered; she got whatever she wanted. She had her dad wrapped around her little pudgy finger.

So, when her parents were away, their grandmother raised her and her siblings. She fed them, helped them with their homework and best of all, told them stories of kings and dragons. Y/N would sit intently while her grandmother would massage her feet after a tiring day at school or give her a head massage when it ached. Y/N would always love spending time with her, one way or another.

Y/N was off too college as soon as she turned 18. She finally got to be back home after 2 years for longer than a few weeks; the reason wasn't something to be happy about since a virus had spread across the world and was killing people at an alarming rate. Which meant school, colleges, offices had all shut down and were working from home. When she hugged her grandma for the first time in 6 months; "You've gotten thinner since the last time I saw you" she squinted her eyes at her grandma. "You know how it is with age, I don't have the appetite anymore" her grandmother reasoned. "Well, you should still eat. I'm gonna make sure you gain weight before I leave" Y/N said determined. "Sure, sweetheart" she laughed. "Let's have food. It's nice to have everyone back home, together for once" she emphasised. Y/N held her grandmother's hand as they walked to the dining table for lunch.

A month or so after she was back, her grandmother had started feeling ill. She wouldn't be able to hold down any food and she had been complaining of a stomach ache. With COVID restrictions, getting an appointment was extremely difficult. After a week or so, thankfully, her dad was now at the doctor's office with his mother. The kids were at home, dotting it down to the regular stomach flu which was taking longer than usual to clear.

What came as a surprise to the family, after a couple tests was that, the matriarch of the house was suffering from stomach cancer. Couple more tests later, and it said that it had advanced quite a bit having spread all over the body. The doctors weren't sure what they could do other than ease her pain. Everyone was crying in their rooms while trying to hold a tough facade in front of Anika, so as to not worry her.

At breakfast, a few days after the diagnosis. "You lot are all cry babies. It's just cancer. I'll get the treatment and be well" Anika smiled. Everyone hoped what she was saying was true. But as the treatments started; things started to get worse for her. The medicines were taking a toll on her. Their once active grandmother was reduced to bathroom runs and staying put in her bed. She barely had the energy to eat on her own.

The matriarch's children were sad and couldn't help but cry since they couldn't do much for their mother other than watch. The grandkids would think of ways to make food exciting for their grandmother. The whole family had come together. They were all living together to care for their ailing mother. "I like this very much" Anika told Y/N. "What do you like, grandma?" she asked. "Having all my children here, fretting over me" she said looking at her 2 children fondly. Y/N smiled, "They always fret over you, for as long as I can remember" she replied. "Hmm...but this feel different...it feels nice" she hummed.

They had a scare a few months later; Anika's health had deteriorated suddenly and needed hospitalisation. When she was admitted in the hospital; everyone went to visit her in turns. "I wish I got to see at least one of my grandkids get married" she said barely above a whisper. She beckoned Y/N forward, "Darling, you're the oldest. You're the smartest. You always listen to your grandma don't you" she cooed. "Grandma, I don't like where this is going." she mumbled. "I know it is too much to ask for but why don't you get married. I'll find you a nice man" she reasoned. "Grandma, no. I'm only 20. I'm not getting married, not yet anyways." she whined. "ugh! I love you grandma, I really do but I don't have any plans of getting married, yet" she said pulling away from her grandma. "I'm going home. I hope you get well soon" she stormed off.

Y/N was fuming, she got that her grandma was sick and wanted to see major milestones in her grandkids lives and she wanted to share her happiness with her too but that doesn't mean she will throw her own granddaughter under the bus. She hated the fact that it was always her who would have to do as the elders told her to. Why couldn't it be her siblings or her cousins for once? Why did she have to get a married now? She has so much she wants to achieve, she can't be tied down just yet. People her age barely even remembered the name of the person they last slept with and she should get married; her grandma had gone crazy, she thought.

While Y/N was losing her mind because her grandma wanted her married; Carlos Sainz Junior was losing his mind since he got a contract with Ferrari next year.

In the world of Formula One, there was a change in tide. Sebastian Vettel would no longer be driving for Ferrari in the upcoming season; instead he was being replaced with an up and coming driving Carlos Sainz who was currently driving for McLaren. COVID had put a damper on things; but nothing could contain Carlos's excitement. He would be driving in red next year, something almost every driver had dreamt of when they dreamt of Formula One.

Carlos was your typical Formula One driver, he asked his father for guidance since he was a Rally Champion and looked up to some great drivers as inspiration. He had big plans; plan of winning his first race, plans of winning a championship title, plans of racing until he was 60 but none of those plans involved getting married any time soon. He couldn't imagine himself settling down, just yet even though his sister was planning on getting married herself. He had a long way to go; the biggest obstacle, he wasn't dating anyone as of yet so obviously marriage was off the table for the foreseeable future.

Now, there's a saying, sickness brings the lost together. That's exactly what had happened. Carlos senior had grown up with a family, albeit only for a few years of his childhood but those were formative years and he had spent a lot of his time with the Kastner family. They were his neighbours and even after they had moved away, they had still stayed in touch. He wouldn't forget their kindness and hospitality. For the few years that they were around he was incharge of making sure the oldest of the Kastner family, Ivan got to and back from school safely.

When Carlos senior found out about the ailing health of Mrs Kastner who would make him delicious food and baby sat them when necessary, he flew in as soon as he could with his family in tow. COVID didn't make it easy to visit the sick but Carlos senior would be damned if he didn't meet or introduce his kids to the woman he talked about. Carlos senior greeted Ivan, "You've aged" he laughed patting his back. "As if you haven't" he clapped back. The two happy to see each other after a very long time apart. "I heard Aunt Anika is sick" Carlos senior spoke. "News travels fast" Ivan chuckled. "Not fast enough since she's been sick for a while and I only found out after she was admitted" Carlos senior pointed out. "Yes, yes, she'll be discharged soon. She's been doing so much better for the past few days" Ivan explained. "That's good to know" Carlos senior sighed. "Can we meet her?" he asked hopeful. "I think she'll be over the moon when she find out you've come. She kept up with all your races" Ivan added. "I'm glad she did. I think it was the combined prayers of my mother and yours that I'm still alive after being this reckless" Carlos senior laughed. "That I will not disagree with" Ivan smiled opening the door to the hospital room where Anika was reading the day's paper. She placed the paper down to see who it was and a smile broke out on her face; "Carlos, darling, how've been? I've missed you" she spoke trying to get up but Carlos senior was already by her side, "Don't get up. I'm right here" he leaned down and hugged her. "I've missed you too." he whispered. She patted his back, "I see you've done well for yourself" she said scanning the faces of the 4 people behind him. He pulled away and introduced his wife and 3 kids to her. "Did he get into rallying just like his father?" she asked shaking Carlos junior's hand. "Worse, he's in Formula One" Carlos senior smiled. "Darling, stay safe. I might have to start praying for one more now" she shook her head. "This is the woman who was best friend's with your grandmother and they love each other too much" Carlos senior announced to his kids. "What team does he race for?" Anika asked Carlos senior drawing his attention. "I'm racing for McLaren now, but I'll be racing for Ferrari next year" Carlos junior replied. "congratulations dear. And Carlos, a bit narcissistic I think to name your kid after you" she laughed.

The atmosphere was lively and bright, everyone was busy catching up with each other and trying to let each other know what was going on with the other.

In all of this, the gears in Anika's head were spinning. If Carlos's son, Carlos was single he would be the right fit for her grand daughter. She had always adored and dotted on Carlos senior growing up, so it would only make sense that she would want a good family to take care of her grand daughter. If there's anything to go by how Carlos senior turned out, Carlos junior would fit right in with their family. She felt giddy thinking about the possibility of merging their two families. She knew if everything went well, they could easily be getting married at the end of the year or the beginning of the next. She just wanted what was good for her grand daughter, having something nice come out of it like a handsome and rich husband was a bonus.

The Sainz would be staying in town for a few days before they would be leaving. Anika had invited them over for dinner once she would be discharged since she couldn't send them away without feeding them herself. It was a day before her discharge and she was sat with both Ivan and Carlos. "Since the two of you are here, there's a proposition I would like to make" she said. The two men sat up straight waiting for Anika to continue. "I might not live long" she began but was cut off by mutual 'nos and you'll live a long life' before she shushed them. "Let's listen to the doctors and I know they are trying their best but we have to be realistic too. If I do live long, I'll get to watch the happiness unfold if don't then I'll at least be a part of some of it." she explained. The two men were very confused with where she was trying to go. "I want to make a proposition like I said, I think it would be great if Carlos's son, Carlos married Ivan's daughter, Y/N. I've always wanted to watch my grand kids get married, this way I can die happy" she finished. Their mouths opened and closed a few times before Carlos spoke, "Aren't they still too young?" he asked. "It's just a suggestion, it's up to you two and them to decided if they'll go through with it. Would I be happy if they got married? Obviously but at the end of the day it'll all up to the kids. I just want what's best for them" Anika said. The two men were thinking. They were stuck. "You two can think about it, maybe we can introduce them to each other at the dinner tomorrow" Anika said hopeful. This was going to be difficult conversation to have for both Carlos and Ivan, they thought.

Taglist- @herexpertcollector @redrevvedup @chaostudee @larastark3107 @jovialpainterunknown @vip-access @sugarvibez @champomiel @inarabee @virazeeee @seonghwaexile @champ15ns @ajthefujoshi @musicheaux @npcmia @marvel-ous-miss-maisie @mochipatch @gleeblegnarp @formula1-motogpfan @taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs

[strangespector]

Breathless

Summary: A bad habit that has consequences

Words: 1046

The flashing lights of paparazzi cameras illuminated the night, capturing Jenna Ortega in a moment that would soon be plastered all over social media. The young actress, beloved by millions, was caught with a cigarette in hand, the smoke curling up into the night sky. The pictures went viral almost instantly, eliciting reactions from fans, critics, and, most notably, her family. Jenna's mother was especially vocal about her disapproval, a sentiment echoed by the rest of her family. They knew Jenna had started smoking on set, a habit picked up in the chaotic world of Hollywood, but seeing it publicly displayed ignited a firestorm of concern and frustration.

Despite their pleas, Jenna continued smoking, a habit that became a part of her daily routine. She would often light up at home, the scent of tobacco lingering in the air. I, on the other hand, had never touched a cigarette in my life. The smoke bothered me at first, the acrid scent clinging to the furniture, my clothes, and even my hair. But I loved Jenna. She was my world, and though I disliked her smoking, I endured it because I knew how much stress she was under. I figured it was her way of coping, a temporary crutch in the high-pressure world she navigated every day.

Years passed, and Jenna's star only continued to rise. She became a household name, and with every new role, her fanbase grew. But alongside her success, her smoking habit persisted. By now, it had become second nature to her, a part of her routine as much as brushing her teeth or making coffee in the morning. I often found myself coughing, my chest tightening uncomfortably whenever the smoke hung too thick in the air. There were days when I felt short of breath, but I chalked it up to a cold or allergies. The thought that something could be seriously wrong never crossed my mind.

It wasn’t until I started losing weight rapidly, my energy levels plummeting, that I decided to see a doctor. The cough that had lingered for months turned into something more sinister, a persistent ache that gnawed at my insides. After a series of tests and a tense waiting period, the diagnosis came: lung cancer, stage three. The words hung in the air like a death sentence. The doctor explained that the cause was likely secondhand smoke, a byproduct of living with a smoker for so many years.

When I told Jenna, she was devastated. The color drained from her face as she realized the implications of what the doctor had said. This wasn't just any illness—this was a direct consequence of her habit. A habit she had nurtured and indulged, not realizing the price I would eventually pay. She cried for days, apologizing over and over, but I reassured her that I didn’t blame her. After all, it had been my choice to stay, my choice to love her despite her flaws. But deep down, I knew she carried the weight of this guilt, a burden she would never fully shake off.

The chemotherapy was brutal. Each session left me weaker than the last, my body battered and bruised by the relentless assault of drugs meant to kill the cancer. Jenna was by my side through it all, her eyes red-rimmed from lack of sleep and constant worry. She quit smoking immediately, the sight of a cigarette now repulsive to her. She did everything she could to make me comfortable, but the cancer had spread too far, too fast. The doctors were honest with us—it was only a matter of time.

As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, I grew weaker. My once-strong body was now frail, a shadow of the person I used to be. Breathing became difficult, each inhale a struggle, each exhale a sigh of resignation. I knew my time was running out, and I accepted it with a calmness I hadn’t expected. I had lived a good life, a happy life, despite the challenges. And Jenna, for all her faults, had made me happier than I ever thought possible.

When the end was near, I made one final request: I wanted to go home. The hospital was cold, sterile, a place where people went to fight for their lives. But I wasn’t fighting anymore. I just wanted to be in a place that felt familiar, surrounded by the memories of a life well-lived. Jenna arranged everything, bringing me home and setting up a bed in the living room where the sunlight streamed in through the windows.

The last few days were a blur of pain and medication. I could feel myself slipping away, my consciousness fading in and out like a weak radio signal. But Jenna was always there, holding my hand, her presence a steady anchor in the storm of my fading life. I remember the last time I opened my eyes, her face blurry but unmistakable, framed by the soft afternoon light. She was crying, her tears falling silently onto our clasped hands.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I'm so sorry for everything."

I mustered what little strength I had left and smiled at her, a weak but genuine smile. "I forgive you," I said, my voice barely a breath. "You gave me a happy life, Jenna. That's all that matters."

And in that moment, as I looked into her tear-filled eyes, I felt a deep sense of peace. I had no regrets, no anger, only love for the woman who had been my everything. I closed my eyes, holding onto that final image of her, my heart full even as my body failed. And then, with one last breath, I let go, slipping away into the quiet darkness, leaving Jenna with the memories of our life together and the lesson learned from a habit that had cost us both so dearly.

Jenna would go on to live her life, forever changed by the experience. She would tell our story to others, a cautionary tale of love, loss, and the heavy price of a moment’s indulgence. And though I was gone, I knew she would carry me with her, in her heart, every step of the way.

[kiefbowl]

I was reading an opinion piece on Kate Middleton's cancer diagnosis on CNN by Jamal Baig about the increasing rates of cancer in patients under 50. As far as 5 minutes of googling and JSTORing can lend me to believe, there's nothing illegitimate about Dr. Baig. However, I found this bit in his opinion interesting:

Now, I'm always dubious when reading anything that attributes a very broad generalized idea that changes in diets have caused an increased in cancer, because more often than not it's not pointing to an exploration of, say, increased pesticide use, but the author's personal bias against the quote unquote "unhealthy", especially those who are deemed "fat" by the medical industry.

That being said, I was curious what source he linked, half expecting it to lead to just another op-ed from some other doctor from who knows when, but I was pleasantly surprised! Written by a man named Michael Donaldson, it was an evidentiary review published in a scientific journal called "Nutrition and cancer: A review of the evidence for an anti-cancer diet."

Now I wasn't going to give the whole thing a read, but I stopped in each section, gave a quick skim to get a general vibe, moved on to the next section, etc. I was immediately suspicious that the very first line in the abstract was "It has been estimated that 30–40 percent of all cancers can be prevented by lifestyle and dietary measures alone" as that seems to be a bananas statistic to just posit, but it still had the air of scientific integrity, so I did my skim.

The first handful of sections had things that gave me some moments of pause, that this article was in fact another doctor simply cherry picking data to confirm his own biases, but nothing so egregious as to do a spit take. That comes in a few minutes. The first section that made really go hold the phone was when we got to his Flax Seed section.

Compare how he writes about Red Meat...:

(that's all he wrote, btw)

...with how he starts writing about Flax Seed:

Did I just enter a Flax Seed commercial? Does this guy work for BIG FLAX SEED? on and on he writes about Flax Seed, and I start getting a sense that perhaps this man has a Flax Seed Agenda. In any case, he eventually moves on and I quickly skim to get to the end (because it's boring among other things).

So, who exactly is Michael Donaldson?

Girl are you kidding me

The Hallelujah Acres Foundation is a FOR PROFIT company that sells a """biblical""" based diet program called the hallelujah diet and also sells supplements on said site.

Now, in case you forgot where I started with this, this was the link provided as a "source" to a legitimate doctor's claim in an op-ed about cancer that "at least part of the answer" of why cancer is increasing in under 50 patients are the "changes to nutrition and lifestyle that took hold in middle of the last century." Dr. Baig did not read this article, or if he did was not concerned that it was written by the employee of a company that profits from unscientific research it uses to sell supplements and diets. Which is worse, I don't know.

The point I'm making is that you absolutely need to be vigilant all the time. You need to understand that doctors can not only have biases, but agendas. Researchers can have biases and agendas. Scientists can have biases and agendas. And that magical thinking about real health issues that can affect your future can permeate the scientific community because weirdos write convincing enough evidence that support their already determined world view.

This kind of shit is the reason why women go into doctor offices complaining about pain in their abdomen and get told to go lose weight and come back in 6 months. This is why ideas like moralizing eating have huge effects on women's health and influence medical misogyny, and why it's a feminist issue.

[inawickedlittletown]

One Year - BuckTommy - 8x06 fix it

Summary: This is my fix-it because I for one can't take that break up being the end. So, it takes a while, but they belong together. Words: 6k Read on Ao3

-

The first time he saw Evan again, it was from afar. It had been a couple of weeks. They were at the same call, Tommy somehow winding up on the ground. He spotted Evan walking next to Eddie with Howie and Hen just ahead of them, heard their voices despite how loud everything was. He kept his distance, and only once ran into someone from the 118. Ravi, who gave him a smile and nod. 

The next time, it was at one of the badge and ladder bars. Lucy had forced him to go. Had she not been holding his arm, he would have turned and fled. Instead he saw Evan throw back a shot and then walk over to some guy whose physique told Tommy he had to be a firefighter. He saw as Evan said something that made the other guy laugh and then they were getting drinks together and…and Lucy took him out the door while he tried to catch a breath. 

Tommy wasn’t new to a break up…it was just that this one was hitting harder than any before. 

Before Evan, there had been three boyfriends. Before and in between were hookups and one-night stands and even some friends with benefits that popped in and out of his life. He’d come out when he was in his early thirties, around the same age as Evan. Of course, for Tommy it had been different. He’d been hiding it from everyone and even from himself. 

In the army, he and some other guys had had a bit of fun. Masturbating together and pretending it was all fine and heterosexual because they weren’t touching each other. He’d exchanged one or two blowjobs here or there like an exchange of favors with guys that had girlfriends waiting for them back home. He lied and told them he had a girl too. Pretended he didn’t like giving as much as he liked receiving. 

Things were much the same when he was at the 118, except that pretending he had a girlfriend was harder. He even tried to date women. Abby…he’d met Abby when the 118 went to a call about her mother. She’d almost burnt down her whole house by forgetting to turn off a stove and looking back that had definitely been an early sign of her dementia. Abby was nice and Tommy couldn’t deny that he got along with her and it helped that she understood how busy his job kept him and what his hours were like. 

Dating Abby was the first time he felt like maybe he could do it. Marry the girl. Have some kids. Lie to himself and the world forever. As unfair as it was to Abby, it just…Tommy could tell that it might work. It was why they got engaged. It was why he was so sure about getting married but then there were guys he met on calls or that he checked out from time to time and he didn’t think he would ever be able to put that away. Instead, he would wind up cheating on Abby and making the hurt worse. So, he broke it off and felt horrible when he realized that Abby had gotten the blow of her mom’s dementia diagnosis.

After Abby, Tommy went a little wild. He slept around. Found out more about himself. Knew that he could never do what he did to Abby to any other woman. He heard at some point about Abby taking up with a younger guy. In what universe could Tommy have expected that years later he would date the same guy. 

One night, he ran into Karen at a Target of all places. Tommy was there to pick up detergent and he was just deciding between brand name or the store brand and also trying his hardest to not buy the brand he knew that Evan used, when a cart bumped into his. 

“I’m so sorry,” Karen said. 

He looked up slowly. 

“Tommy,” Karen said warmly. “Hi.” 

Behind her came Denny and Mara. Mara he’d only met a handful of times and he knew her to be a little shy. Denny smiled at him. 

“Hi, Tommy.”

“Oh. Hi,” Tommy said. “You got your cast off.” 

Denny nodded. “A little while ago.” 

He remembered sitting in that hospital waiting room and how he’d tagged along to Denny’s room and hadn’t expected that Denny would want him to sign his cast seeing as he was all but a stranger, but Denny did offer him the marker and Tommy did sign.

Despite wanting to, he didn’t ask about Evan. He hardly managed to ask about Hen. 

“She’s good,” Karen said and then, “hey, listen, you don’t have to be a stranger.” 

He offered her a tight smile. 

“I’m serious. Hey, how about dinner soon?”

He shrugged and Karen insisted, pulling out her phone and throwing dates at him until he agreed. 

Before she left, Karen grabbed his arm. “I don’t know what happened, no one really does, Hen says he doesn’t want to talk about it. You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to, but that doesn’t mean you’re not our friend still, Alright? That doesn’t just go for Hen and I, either.” 

Eddie had reached out the day after. The day after that too. And the one after that one. Then it was weekly. Then it was bi-weekly. Then came a final message. A voicemail. Tommy almost didn’t listen to it. 

“Hey, man,” Eddie said. “I guess you decided to cut all ties. I get it. Kind of. And look, Buck is my friend, but you are too and I don’t drop my friends. I know you’re hurting too, so don’t be afraid to reach out. I’m here for whenever you’re ready.” 

Tommy never called him. He thought about it. Almost texted him several times. He missed Eddie. 

He missed their easy friendship and the way that Eddie had welcomed him so wholly. He just couldn’t face him because Eddie would give it all away about how Evan was doing and Tommy wouldn’t be able to keep his own feelings in. It would burst out and then Eddie would know just how horrible Tommy really felt and how regretful too. 

He did regret it. 

He hated himself. 

Tommy went to dinner with Hen and Karen. It was good. Fun, even. Neither of them asked and Tommy didn’t offer any information. Instead, he got to hear about Mara’s adoption going through finally and about how Maddie was pregnant and doing really well. He tried not to think about Evan becoming an uncle for the second time and how excited he had to be over it. They exchanged Lucy stories and then stories from way back when Tommy was in the 118. Tommy promised they would do dinner again. 

The next time he ran into Evan, it had been more time than they had even been together. Tommy shouldn’t still be mourning the end of the relationship and yet…of course he was. Of course he still missed Evan desperately. So much for waylaying a heartbreak, there hadn’t been stopping that apparently and seeing Evan was like having someone reach right into his chest and squeeze. 

The first guy that he ever called boyfriend was a guy named Ivan. Ivan was a little older…okay, much older, and Tommy thought he was in love. Figured that was it and that he and Ivan could be forever. When Ivan broke it off because he met someone else, Tommy was devastated. 

“Tommy, I’m your first boyfriend, of course this wasn’t going to last. I always thought we were on the same page and that this was a bit of fun.” 

A month or so later, Tommy realized that Ivan was right. He wasn’t torn up and he hadn’t been in love as much as wanting the security of the relationship because it meant he didn’t need to keep looking for love. He’d gotten comfortable with Ivan, but what they hadn’t wasn’t something that would last no matter how much Tommy had thought it was what he wanted. 

The second guy came a year or so later. Paul was younger and Tommy met him while they were on a call. When Paul came by with muffins a few days later they got talking and Paul admitted that he was nervous but he’d wanted to see Tommy again. They had a few dates and then Tommy was rushing in with Paul. They spent every moment together and then moved in together too. 

When they broke up right before their one year anniversary, it was because Paul admitted that he never thought his first real relationship with a guy could be his last and that he had more options to explore. 

“Tommy, you were amazing. You will always be so important to me, but I’m not in love with you.” 

Somehow, that still hurt less than Evan and Tommy only had himself to blame for that. 

He saw Evan at a farmer’s market. He was with Jee-Yun who skipped ahead of him laughing. Evan was smiling after her. Tommy didn’t mean to follow, but he did keep his distance. Saw Evan buy a few things and smile at the girl that sold them to him, saw him stop at a stand selling apple cider, the man behind the counter blond and tall and bulky. Hot. His eyes were hazel and he was smiling at Evan and ignoring anyone else that approached. Evan was smiling back and doing that thing where he ducked his head bashfully before looking up through his eyelashes. Tommy’s heart ached. 

Tommy walked away from that. He turned and he walked until he was back at his car and then he sat there in his truck and let his mind wander because what if Evan asked that guy out? Or the girl? What if one of them wasn’t dumb like Tommy and stuck around and refused to let Evan go. What if Tommy never got a chance to…but he’d already blown his chance with Evan and he doubted there would ever be another. 

When he got to his shift later, Lucy took one look at him.

“Hey, you okay?” 

“I don’t think I’ve been okay for months.” 

Lucy hugged him. “Are you ever going to tell me what happened?” she asked. 

He shook his head. 

It was hard to even admit to himself how much he’d screwed up and how much he’d allowed his fear to color how he faced Evan wanting more than what they already had. He’d been unprepared when Evan brought it up and then it had been the Abby of it all and the way that Tommy knew he couldn’t expect for Evan to settle for him. That just wasn’t how it worked. He was the first, but not the last. Tommy just wasn’t good enough to be Evan’s last and it was something that Evan would figure out sooner or later. So why wait for their whole lives to get even more entwined and for everything to be so much harder when it all fell apart. 

One night, when Lucy showed up at his house to hang out, she had tried to bad-talk Evan as if that would help. It was the night she dropped information that Tommy hadn’t known and wasn’t it wild how much he and Evan had inadvertently not shared. Six months and they hadn’t talked about anything at all, apparently. 

Lucy and Evan had kissed once while drunk at a bar. 

The jealousy that hit him was…Tommy wasn’t usually a jealous guy and yet the very idea made him cringe and maybe he downed two shots back to back. 

“I kissed him,” Lucy said. “He didn’t push me away and I had no idea that he had a girlfriend at the time.”

It didn’t make him think badly of Evan, not the way that Lucy maybe intended. It just…it made Tommy wonder about how it would have gone if he was right. Would Evan have cheated on him once he realized he wanted more than what Tommy was willing to offer. But no…no, that wasn’t Evan was it? No, Evan would have stuck it out even when he got miserable and didn’t want to anymore and then Tommy would have had to say something and end it. 

“What happened after that?” Tommy had asked. 

“Between me and Buck? Nothing. I’m just saying, he isn’t this perfect guy either.”

As if Tommy didn’t know that, as if Tommy hadn’t seen exactly who Evan was from the get go. He was a mess, he was jealous, impulsive, he believed in curses, got pouty when he didn’t get his way. Evan was far from perfect, but Tommy had loved him because of it. He saw how much of the bad was still good or maybe not even bad at all. 

Lucy did leave him thinking about how they had never discussed exes until Abby and how maybe they should have. He wondered if Evan would have even brought up the Lucy of it all. He wondered how he would have taken Tommy’s own exes…Ivan and Paul and…and Henry. 

Henry was the last boyfriend before Evan. Gorgeous Henry who began as a friend and then started to get a bit flirty and who kissed Tommy for the first time at a New Years Eve party and then freaked out because Tommy was a guy. 

Weeks of not talking and Tommy not being able to stop thinking about him to an obsessive degree. How on Valentine’s day, he was surprised when red roses and chocolate was delivered to Harbor from Henry to Tommy and a simple note asking him out. He’d gotten so much shit for that, but Tommy had secretly loved it. The romance of it all, the sweetness. Henry had been so sweet. 

Henry who told Tommy that he was sorry but he had no idea guys were an option for him and how he couldn’t deny how much he wanted Tommy. They had long conversations about it and Tommy took it so slow that they didn’t even have sex for the first two months. 

Tommy didn’t realize that their feelings were different. Tommy had been crushing on Henry even before the kiss and then he had him. Henry had been mystified by Tommy and his attraction to him, but it wasn’t long before his eyes started to wander. Tommy had bought his house right before they started dating and when Henry’s roommate situation got a bit difficult he welcomed him right in. It had felt like the start of the rest of their lives. That had been a mistake. 

Tommy had been so blind. Looking back, the red flags had been evident. He’d been blinded by love and friendship and daydreams about a future he thought was within his grasp. Then, one night, when he managed to sprain an ankle, Tommy was first taken to the hospital and then sent home a whole thirteen hours earlier than expected. Henry hadn’t answered his calls, so Tommy got back home on his own. He found Henry in bed with a woman. 

The last time he saw Henry, it was when Henry picked up the last of his things and when Henry made his apologies and excuses it felt like Ivan and Paul before him. 

Tommy was never enough. Not enough. Always the placeholder for something or someone better. 

“Why not just break up with me?” Tommy remembered asking. 

“I didn’t know how. You were so…I’m sorry, Tommy. I guess I’m not done trying to figure out what I want.” 

The one thing Henry had figured out was that Tommy was not what he wanted. 

He did cry after Henry and then he threw himself into work and downloaded an app or two and didn’t try to date seriously. He had friends to call on lonely nights and then he could hit up a bar and find someone that way. Tommy had all but convinced him that it was all he’d ever have, until he met a firefighter with a cute birthmark who Tommy kissed without having planned to and who he almost wrote off after the first date and was so glad he didn’t. Breaking up with Evan was hitting harder than anyone that came before. 

Evan was different. He had burrowed deep in his heart and there was no getting him out. Tommy didn’t think he wanted him out. 

A few weeks later, he saw Eddie at the mall and with him was Christopher. He looked taller than the last time Tommy had seen him, and he was in LA. Eddie looked happy. Of course, he was happy. Tommy hated that he didn’t know when Chris had returned or how Eddie had won him over again. 

“Tommy,” Eddie said. 

“Tommy,” Christopher said. 

Had it been just Eddie, Tommy might have ignored them. Instead, he turned around. 

“Hi,” he said. 

“Hey,” Eddie said with a smile. 

“Hi, Tommy,” Christopher said. 

“Hey, kid, nice to see you back in LA.” 

Chris gave him a rundown of his time in Texas. He talked about the friends he made and his cousins and grandparents, but how Eddie had gone to see him and then Chris decided to come back with him. 

It was nice to talk to Chris and then to follow Eddie and Chris into one of the stores. Chris got distracted then, and Eddie turned to Tommy. 

“How are you really?” 

“It’s been months,” Tommy said. 

“I know. You never called me back. You should have,” Eddie said. 

“I couldn’t,” Tommy said. “You’re…how is he, Eddie?” 

Eddie took in a breath. “Look, I don’t think I should answer that. Buck is coping. He’s doing…what did he call it, he’s exploring. Apparently, it’s what you told him he needed to do.” Eddie’s look was pointed. Full of judgment. 

Tommy had to look away, he had to hope that his eyes wouldn’t fill up with tears. That night, right after he left Evan’s place, Tommy didn’t even remember how he got home. He did remember that he’d gone for his usual comforts. A shot of whiskey, a case of beer, and he’d tried to watch a movie and failed miserably. Hadn’t been able to watch romantic comedies since. Documentaries were out too. 

“Dad,” Christopher called. 

“I — I’ll leave you to it,” Tommy said. 

Eddie grabbed his shoulder. “Wait. No. Just…let’s hang out. You can come over or I can come over. We could sparr or get a drink. We’re still friends, Tommy. I’m serious.” 

“Okay.” 

Eddie called him that night and Tommy couldn’t say no to having Eddie come over to his place. They didn’t talk about Evan the whole time, not until Eddie was getting ready to leave. 

“I want to say something because I’m your friend and Buck’s friend. What you did was really stupid and I never thought you were stupid. If this was the way you always saw it going, why did you waste his time? Why did you let him fall for you? And I know you hurt yourself too, Tommy, I can see it all over you. So why? Just…answer that.” 

Eddie didn’t even let him reply before he left. 

Why did Tommy do that? Because even a minute of knowing Evan was worth it. Ending it early was just…he’d expected it to help because he had control and he was making the call and then he wouldn’t be devastated. It was a little late for it, apparently, at least on his end. 

“He’s exploring,” he said out loud. Eddie’s words. 

What had Tommy expected. God, he really was an idiot. 

A week later he was at a call that the 118 was present for as well. He tried to stay well clear of them, but he couldn’t help but look for Evan. It was like being a moth drawn to light and of course Evan was his light. 

He’d overheard Lucy and Melton talking on his first shift after his talk with Eddie and Melton had said everyone had a regret in love, that everyone had someone they let go of or who let them go that always left what ifs. Evan wasn’t a regret, Tommy would never regret him. What he regretted was that Tommy had allowed fear and his own baggage to cloud things and destroy what he and Evan had. 

Of course, a part of him did still wonder if he had been right. Every relationship came with risk, and Evan having just realized he was into men as much as women, it wasn’t farfetched to think that one day he might think that he’d settled into something with Tommy far too quickly without really knowing for sure it was what he wanted. Evan hadn’t denied that either, he hadn’t tried to stop Tommy leaving. He hadn’t reached out. He hadn’t even asked for any of his things back — granted neither had Tommy. 

Tommy had everything that Evan had ever left as his house in the drawer that had been Evan’s. Or hanging on his coat rack. In his bathroom. In his kitchen. He hadn’t had the heart to remove any of it and sometimes when he was really tired or when he’d hit the booze a little hard with Lucy, he could even convince himself that it was there waiting for Evan. 

The call rang long, the fire blazing for a while and worse people stuck inside on the higher floors. Tommy was helping on the ground on a hose, he knew the 118 was helping with evacuation along with the 133 and somehow they did manage to get everyone out and they did manage to get the flames put out. Tommy wouldn’t admit it, but he spent most of the call with his heart in his throat hoping that Evan stayed safe and that nothing went wrong. 

They were just getting back to the truck when he saw Evan a little soot covered, but smiling. He was talking to a reporter. Red hair, pale skin, skinny and pretty. He kept talking to her even after the camera man brought the camera down. 

“That’s Taylor Kelly,” Lucy said and she pushed him to keep moving. 

Taylor Kelly the reporter. Taylor Kelly who was Evan’s ex. Taylor who Evan had cheated on with Lucy. When he turned back to look once more they were no longer talking. 

“I don’t get why you haven’t reached out to him,” Lucy said. 

“He’s a coward,” Melton said. 

“It’s been how many months now and you’re not over him. Do you want me to find out if he’s seeing anyone? Maybe you still have a shot. We’ve never seen you like this before and at first it was I guess normal. Now it’s a bit depressing. What happened, Tommy?” 

“What happened is Melton is right and I am a coward,” Tommy said and then he climbed into the truck and looked away from them, glad when they didn’t talk to him the whole way back to Harbor. 

He heard about Maddie giving birth from Hen. It was a passing comment one night when he went over for dinner and Tommy found himself mourning that he hadn’t been there for Evan through all of it, especially because as Karen told it, Maddie had had a hard labor. 

He was shown pictures from Hen’s phone. The baby was tiny and already had a tuft of dark hair. He scrolled through pictures and then there he was. Evan holding the baby in his arms, the baby looking even smaller tucked right into the crook of Evan’s elbow and Evan smiling down with so much awe and love. It hurt to look at him, but Tommy couldn’t stop. 

So maybe there had been times when Tommy allowed himself to think about a future where he and Evan stayed together, one where they were married and decided they should be parents too. He’d seen Evan around kids too often, knew Evan would want to be a dad. Tommy had never longed for that or anything, but with Evan he would have wanted it. That was all gone now. 

“Oh,” Karen said. “Sorry. I forgot…”

Tommy forced himself to flip to the next picture. Another shot of Evan, this time he was looking up with the bluest glassiest eyes. He missed him. He missed him so damn much and it wasn’t fair how much. 

“Tommy,” Karen said. “Hey, are you alright?” 

“I miss him,” Tommy said. 

“I’m pretty sure he misses you too,” Hen said. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Do you have anything stronger?” 

Hen didn’t mince words. She told him point blank about how after the break up, Evan had tried to act like he was alright. Then, he’d just started to do anything he could in order to keep busy. 

“He started baking,” Hen said. “Then he started doing yoga. He started rock climbing. I think he even took an art class. Anyway, it was hard to watch but I guess it was better than if he sat at home wallowing.” 

“Like I did,” Tommy said. 

Karen grasped his wrist. “You were both hurting. What happened, Tommy?” 

“He asked me to move in and I said no.” 

“And you broke up over that?” Hen asked, surprised. 

Tommy shook his head. “No. Yes. In what world was this going to last? He only just discovered he likes men and yeah it was going well but it wasn’t forever. If we moved in together, it was going to be so much harder when we broke up.” 

“That’s…that’s bullshit, Tommy,” Hen said. “So, you broke his heart and yours so it wouldn’t happen later on.” 

“I didn’t break his—”

“You did,” Karen said. 

“Well shouldn’t he get a chance to explore what his sexuality means? Shouldn’t he get to figure that out instead of settling for the first guy he dates?” 

“And what if he wasn’t settling?” 

That kept him up all of that night. He still remembered how the conversation had gone. Evan had brought up the Abby thing and Tommy had felt put on the spot because it was the last thing he expected and then Evan had started to explain about Abby being an important relationship to him and how Tommy was just as important, the most important since, and all at once Tommy’s fears and insecurities had rushed forward because Evan and Abby hadn’t made it and now that Tommy was this gay mentor or whatever of course it wouldn’t last either. He tried to explain that to Hen and Karen and they both looked at him like he was the one that didn’t get it. 

“You need to talk to him,” Hen said. “For both your sakes.” 

“I don’t know if I can,” Tommy admitted. 

Exactly a year after it happened, he saw Evan again. 

Tommy had gone out to a gay bar because he couldn’t stay home and wallow. Lucy had also told him that he needed to put himself out there again. That if he wasn’t going to talk to Evan, then he needed to talk to someone that might give him a reason to move on. He really didn’t want to, but at the same time his right hand was getting tired and maybe some release of a carnal nature was what Tommy needed. No one had said it, but they had all kind of implied that Evan had at least gotten out there. 

He and Evan had gone to that bar once, gotten a drink and then danced a little before calling it a night and heading back to Evan’s, both of them eager to get up to Evan’s bedroom. He remembered seeing more than a few eyes looking at Evan with interest and how it had made something inside him churn because Tommy had known that if Evan was on the market again he wouldn’t have a hard time finding someone that was interested in him. 

Finding himself a free spot at the bar, Tommy ordered a beer and he tried not to think about the first few times that Tommy had gone into a gay bar and how nervous he’d been to actually put himself out there like that. 

“Hi, handsome,” a male voice said before Tommy had even gotten his beer. 

Tommy turned. “Hello.” 

The guy had floppy hair. He was lanky and thin, could probably be called a twink. He was also way too young for Tommy, probably not even in his mid-twenties. 

“So,” the twink said, hand reaching to touch Tommy’s chest right where the V of his shirt ended. “Want to have some fun?” He wiggled his eyebrows and licked his lips and his hand climbed to Tommy’s neck. 

“Sorry,” Tommy said. “That’s not why I’m here.” 

“Boo,” the guy said, hand dropping away, “So why are you here?” 

“A drink,” Tommy said decisively because he knew that even if someone age appropriate were to approach him, he wouldn’t have been interested. They weren’t Evan. 

“Oh, well. It was worth trying. Though, I don’t usually get turned down twice in one night.” 

“What’s your name?” Tommy asked. 

“Owen.” 

“Well, Owen, it looks to me like there are plenty of fishes in the sea. Third time might be the charm. To be honest, you’re way too young for me and I’m still…I’m hung up on my ex.” 

Owen took a look around, but he turned back to Tommy. “Bad break up? Did he break your heart?” 

“More like I broke his and mine. Such an idiot.” 

“But, hey, you’re still hot. I could help you forget for a few hours.” 

Tommy laughed. 

Owen grinned. “Not ready for that. Must have been quite the guy.” 

“Yeah.” 

Owen wandered off and Tommy watched him strike up a conversation with another guy, someone a little closer to his age. They seemed to hit it off and next time he saw them they were out getting lost in the crowd of bodies on the dance floor. 

Tommy finished his beer and was about to order another when he heard a familiar voice. Down the bar he found Evan. He was turned away from Tommy looking to one of the tables where a man was waving. Tommy couldn’t watch this. He couldn’t see Evan flirt with someone else. He couldn’t see Evan go home with that guy. He couldn’t look away. 

Evan said something to the girl behind the bar and…wait, did he not accept the drink? Then, he saw Evan put some money down right before finishing his beer and moving to leave. 

Tommy did the same and he followed. 

Evan made it out the door just ahead of him and Tommy had to get around several people, but eventually he made it to the door and then out. Evan was just outside, arms crossed over his chest, waiting. 

“Tommy,” he said. 

His voice, the sound of his name, Tommy felt it all down to his bones. 

“Hi, Evan,” he said and he knew his voice broke on Evan’s name. 

“It’s been a year,” Evan said. 

The door opened behind Tommy and Tommy had to step out of the way, his eyes never leaving Evan because maybe Evan would disappear. 

“I know,” Tommy said. 

“It’s felt like longer,” Evan said. 

“I know.” 

“I miss you,” Evan said. 

“I miss you too.” 

Evan was quiet for a beat and then, “then, why?” 

It was high time he stopped being a coward, high time that he stopped getting in his own way or letting the past intrude on his present. 

“Because I’m the biggest idiot,” Tommy said.

Evan snorted. “You’re not wrong.” 

The door opened again bringing with it a wave of music. It was Owen, arms linked with the guy he’d been dancing with. He looked between them and laughed, shaking his head as he walked past them. 

“Maybe we should take this conversation elsewhere,” Tommy suggested. 

Tommy’s house was closer. It felt better than going to Evan’s loft, not that it stopped Tommy from remembering how it had all gone. How he’d let the door close behind him and he’d just thought that it was the right call. 

Evan followed him inside. 

“You know, it was so dumb of me to ask you to move in when you’re the one that owns his own place,” Evan said. “I was just…overcorrecting. Rushing. Trying to show you how much I wanted us to have a future.”

“And I got scared,” Tommy said and led Evan to the living room. “I was dumb too. I should never have broken up with you but, Evan, the way you were talking about Abby and me, it was like of course I was just here to be your next transformative relationship. The next thing that prepared you for…for whoever came next.”

Transformative. That word had stuck around for him, he realized. The comparison Evan had made about his relationship with Abby to their relationship. He and Evan sat down.

“Tommy, I’m—”

Tommy stood. “I’ll go get us some water.” 

He didn’t wait for Evan to respond. As soon as he was out of the room he took a few breaths. What were they doing here? What were either of them hoping to accomplish? Did Evan want to get back together? Was that…was that the right move? 

Twelve months. It had been double the amount of time that their relationship had lasted and Tommy ached for Evan. He longed for him. He still hadn’t gotten rid of any of the things that reminded him of Evan or the things that belonged to Evan either. Hell, he hadn’t even let anyone take over or make their own mark. 

“Tommy?” Evan called you. “Do you want me to come to the kitchen?” 

“I’ll be right back.” 

He grabbed and filled glasses. 

Evan had started pacing the floor. He looked distraught. Tommy wanted to grab his hands and hug him, instead he set down the water. 

“We never talked about our exes,” Tommy said. 

Evan’s gaze snapped towards him. “No, I guess we didn’t.”

“Come, sit,” Tommy said and motioned to the couch. “Evan, I think I let my past decide my future and clearly I was wrong and this last year has been miserable. I’ve missed you every day and I thought walking away was the right thing for you, but it was definitely the wrong thing for me and I just—”

He didn’t expect Evan to kiss him, but that’s what Evan did. It didn’t last long and Tommy wanted to pull him right into another kiss because it had been a year since the last time he kissed him — the last time he’d kissed anybody. 

“Evan,” he said. 

“I learned a year and a half ago that was one way of getting someone’s attention,” Evan said. “I’ve been miserable too. I hated this last year and I missed you and as much as I wanted to hate you I just love you too much.” 

Then, they were kissing again and Tommy was pressed back against his couch, Evan practically crawling into his lap. His arms were around Evan again and he really hadn’t thought that he would ever have this again, but Evan was there and he smelled amazing and he felt amazing and their lips slotted together perfectly. 

Tommy didn’t even realize he was crying until Evan pulled back and his hands were brushing away his tears and then kissing his cheeks. His nose. 

“I love you,” Evan said. “I’m in love with you.” 

His heart was soaring and he reached to cup Evan’s cheeks. “Good, because I love you too.” 

Evan smiled wide at him, pecked his lips and then just hugged him. Held him. Tommy held him back. 

“We’ll have to talk about it,” Tommy said. “I want to explain. I want—”

“Later,” Evan said. “Right now, I just want…I want to bask in this. In us.” 

[momentomori24]

[This has been sitting in my draft for a while lol]

When it comes to Curly's failings, I always see people bring up his obvious failure to protect Anya and him prioritising Jimmy, who was the rapist in that situation. Which is completely valid btw and we should rake him through the coals for that alone even more. But I also see too many people saying that Curly "didn't enable Jimmy" or playing softball for his actions. And I could maybe see where that comes from if that incident was the only thing we had to point to-- but that wasn't all he did, is it? Curly being indifferent or not taking Jimmy's mistreatment and belittlement of Anya seriously was hinted at so much earlier than that.

Namely, the very first time we play from Curly's point of view. Let's just skip the fact that Curly was putting everyone in danger by not taking his psych evals seriously and simply giving the same answers to pass them even tho he was shown literal minutes after this scene being clearly not-sane, and go straight to the point I actually wanna get into. Which is this:

These scenes in isolation wouldn't be that bad. From his pov, it's played off as comical and it is. Jimmy being a brony (not really lmao) and getting playfully dragged over it is funny. But unfortunately this is the first example out of many for Curly's complacency. Anya is complaining about Jimmy not taking his psych evals or her seriously, which is easy to believe considering how much he rags on her for "not being a good nurse" (she kept Curly alive on hopes and dreams how dare you). So he keeps making her do silly and inappropriate reports she clearly doesn't wanna do, which is kinda shitty (also borders on harassment). But rather than actually saying something about Jimmy's behaviour or even acknowledging how it sucks he says this:

Mate, that's not a good thing 💀 He's clearly aware that the problem is Jimmy's lack of respect for Anya specifically. He knows that if he, his friend and a man in power, were the one doing the evals Jimmy wouldn't try that disrespect. But it's Anya, a meek woman who ranks lower than him so he thinks he can get away with it (which he DOES), and Curly's shown as comfortable in knowing that. He doesn't chew Jimmy out for making Anya uncomfortable nor does he reassure her that he will do something about it. All he does is take it off her hands this once and helps Jimmy power through it to get a good diagnosis (even tho we know he's DEFINITELY not sane either). He doesn't even mention Anya's discomfort or confront him on his inappropriate behaviour, just teases Jimmy in good fun instead because he doesn't think of it as anything serious. It's subtle and pretty minor in comparison to everything else, but I think it's worth pointing out. Especially because this convo takes place after Jimmy had assaulted her, which makes this so much worse.

If you need any more evidence of Curly being an enabler you need not look further than Anya herself. And I'm not just talking about the way he failed her here-- I'm talking about Anya's own view of Curly and the way said view influences her actions.

Just look at her choice of wording. "What would you have done". This is in response to him saying that she could've come to him if she were feeling stressed, which she-- in his eyes-- didn't. The question itself implies that she had no faith in Curly to actually help despite his insistence that he would've, which I think is significant because it shows that she's very much aware of Curly's shortcomings when it comes to her situation AND it's one of the first (or the first time) she actually verbalised her lack of trust towards him or anyone directly. Prior to this scene she had told him about her rape and the rapist, presumably because she trusted him to handle it. And he dismissed her because the rapist was his best friend, and that evidently deeply scarred her. Enough so that she secretly took the gun and hid it someplace else and didn't even tell Curly were that was, because she knows that if Curly has access to it there's a so much greater chance Jimmy will have too, insinuated by the line "the least I can do is make sure he never gets it either". Speaking about the gun:

It sucks so bad that this perception of him isn't even inaccurate nor unjustified. That despite everything Jimmy had done to her and everything he could still do to her, he'd very likely still not allow her access to the gun for protection. Because that's exactly what he didn't do anyway. He didn't attempt to keep her safe from Jimmy, instead he just pretended that nothing was wrong and still let Jimmy's belittlement of her pass. He didn't give her the gun after the incident, because she wouldn't have hid the case if he had. Despite his desperate reassurance that he'd do anything, he did nothing but make it worse for her and she KNOWS that. It's so frustrating knowing he entrusted the axe to Swansea when he needed it but not the gun to Anya when she needed it too. Also this:

The fact that his knee-jerk reaction to her admitting that she's pregnant was "Who would you--" is so fucked, especially considering she's already told him what happened. "Who would you" what? Who would you fuck? Who would you have sex with? That choice of wording drives me up a wall-- SHE wouldn't and didn't do anything or anyone. That was JIMMY. The potential sentence implies that she had any choice or agency in her pregnancy. She didn't. And the fact that Curly had to ask "who" insinuates that he's been putting Jimmy's action out of sight and out of mind the whole time, choosing to not think about them or what happened to Anya at all. And considering he still made her do Jimmy's evaluations despite being able to do them himself and literally didn't even think of making sure she gets psych evals done too--especially AFTER getting sexually assaulted--that might actually be the case (I haven't seen anyone make a stink about that piece of info so I'm going to because what kinda colossal fuck up IS that??).

I vaguely had a post like this in mind but seeing so many people be like "well Anya did some wrong stuff too like leaving Curly alone with Jimmy but you don't get mad at HER for that so why is Curly not doing anything about Jimmy being alone with Anya so different??" actually makes me want to blow some people up. Jimmy's an abuser, sure, but Anya has no real reason to believe that he'd actually harm Curly. From her perspective, they were close, close enough that Curly would not only let Jimmy continuously disrespect her but also get away with assaulting her too. That, and she knows that Jimmy was closer to Curly than anyone and more likely to be civil around him than he ever was to her. She has barely any reasons to suspect Jimmy would harm Curly when they're alone. Curly, on the other hand, has every fucking reason on the planet to think Jimmy would harm her when they're alone. He knows he raped her (likely in her room at night too). He knows that he sexually harasses her. He knows that he doesn't respect her at all. And that was BEFORE the crash. Anya tried insisting on giving Curly his medicine, only for Jimmy to keep aggressively insisting that he'll take care of it despite her protests. Curly didn't try to keep them separate at all even though he was the Captain and had the power to do so. And this should go without saying, but leaving your rapist alone with his best friend that he was close to and enabled/protected him and leaving your friend alone with the woman he raped (and might have repeatedly assaulted given his free access to her) is NOT THE SAME and I'm going to start chucking some people down a waterfall because what the fuck is that argument 💀 Actually leave it to the fandom of the game where the rape of a woman is the catalyst for the events that unfold to use her trauma to defend the guy that enabled it in the first place. Bloody hell.

The reason why this whole Curly discourse pisses me off is because it-- from what I can see-- ONLY brings up his failures 1-0 days before the crash and the Dead Pixel scene (or all the discussion around other points are drowned out by those two). Those scenes, while important to talk about, are not the only things he's done, and focussing on those as the only things is a mistake that comes short of understanding the issue. When it comes to Curly the main defences I see for him are "he was trying not to escalate the situation" and "he was trying to keep things under control the best he can" and "he was waiting for the right time to help Anya", but those don't work when you look at the bigger picture of everything he's done.

He half-assed through his psych eval despite clearly not being sane (and KNOWING he's barely sane, he literally admits it to Jimmy's face). He still continued to task her with Jimmy's psych evals. He brushed over Jimmy's sexual harassment of her as a joke. He didn't think about making sure she got psych evals done herself after being raped. He gave Swansea the axe but didn't give Anya the gun despite it being for "unrest amongst the crew" (whatever the hell THAT means). He let her assault slip his mind that she had to remind him. He's literally a blond man. He took no action to hold Jimmy responsible for anything, and prioritised how his violation of Anya would affect him rather than her. He ignored her demands for him to get rid of Jimmy. He still allowed Jimmy free reign of the ship as co-pilot even after he was openly fantasising about killing everyone and had a major motive and the means to do just that. He was potentially thinking of making her miscarry to cover up what happened. He was so accustomed to her sucking up being disrespected and disturbed that he didn't even notice a difference in her behaviour until she hid the fucking gun. There's so much other shit he's done and hasn't done, and not talking about them or glossing over them makes it so easy for people to argue that he isn't actually an enabler or just minimise the severity of his neglect.

And while I'm already dragging Curly through the mud, I might as well just drag Swansea too. I've seen too many people being like "Anya should've told Swansea instead" and "Swansea was the one that actually took responsibility". Like, y'all realise he's not that much better than Curly, right? He already knew about what happened to Anya-- he admits it to Jimmy's face-- but he didn't do shit. He knew, but he still got completely shitfaced for months despite her earlier protestation to that (for very understandable reasons). He knew, but he still let Jimmy have the axe AND be alone with Anya while having it. He knew, but when Anya locked herself in the Medical and Daisuke and Jimmy asked for his help he didn't budge nor really showed any care. He knew, but the reason he finally decided to do something about Jimmy wasn't Anya, it was Daisuke. Her suffering and her eventual death weren't enough for him to take action either.

This game, on top of everything else, is a great depiction of rape culture. It doesn't just include the rapists, but the people (mostly men) that stay silent, do nothing, make excuses for and protect the perpetrator for whatever reason, and Swansea and Curly (Curly way more so than Swansea) are both active contributors to the environment that allowed for evil to flourish and continue unhindered until it destroyed them all. And while that arguably doesn't make them evil themselves or as bad as Jimmy, they are so much more a part of the bigger problem than the fandom likes to admit.

[Ok since this is kinda gaining a bit of traction please consider helping these guys out here, here and here. Thanks!]

[onryosblade]

autistic hazel callahan hcs (ig?)

so . hm. hear me out. i have some random not only hcs but like "evidence" (just me rambling lets be real) of why hazel is autistic to me (or its just me projecting the recent diagnosis in my new comfort character whatever)

this is my first time doing a post so? yeah enjoy i guess :<

its a whole essay be aware!!

★THE ESSAY PART (?)★

• the way she doesn't get phrases and takes things literally like in that one scene when pj and josie are talking about the juvie thing and she is like "wait . you guys ate literal shit?" (that one scene people talk A Lot but there's more, like that one when she get "oh... so things about juvie werent real lmao ok why did u lie tho" and she seems genuinely hurt :[ oh god)

• that being said, she is easily gullible, really having the idea of "i wouldn't lie/mislead about something like this, so why would they?", the first instinct is to believe because it doesn't make sense to lie or mislead at all (exemple: the scene where the guy from the team i forgot the name tried to help her and she believe not only for this bcs because she was vulnerable, of course)

• speaking of lies, she really disliked the fact that the girls were lying to the club about what was iy really about (but that's just what every other person would think ig lol)

• she likes to organize things!!! like, the lists and every email and how she took the whole club activities so serious? omg i love her sm

• that scene where she is almost having a breakdown and doing noises and curling up in herself...

• she's stimming. all the damn time. I DONT MAKE THE RULES ITS THE TRUTH. like, literally.

anyways this is the ones i remember rn, let's go to some hcs shall we?

★AUTISTIC!HAZEL HCS★

★ ㅡ her favorite way of stimming, mainly in public, is to play with her rings or/and chain, crack her knuckles, fidget with the hem of her shirt, feel the soft fabric of her cardigan sleeves or just curl her fists around the ends of whatever long sleeve she has on that day.

★ ㅡ part of me thinks she really likes the texture of crochet or the kind of texture her clothes during the movie has, like, just sliding her nails at it almost scratching, but some days, she would absolute hate the feeling.

★ ㅡ she does have a special interest in how to make bombs but not only that, the crochet thing would be something she would really like to do, too.

★ ㅡ she likes to do lists for EVERYTHING, even silly stuff, probably does ranks of random foods once in a while out of boredom (that one is very self indulgent i must admit)

★ ㅡ when overstimulated, she usually curls into a ball and makes noises to try to self regulate (just like in the scene of the gif!).

★ ㅡ she is the type of autistic that is hyperverbal for sure, even more so with her special stuff like bombmaking ! if u want her to love you ask her about it.

★ ㅡ she have difficulty with maintaining relationships, not much starting them, so that's why she so glad she got the girls of the club to be alongside her.

★ ㅡ i like to thing the girls help her when she is in need of supporting, just like after she got beat up at the gymnasium and everyone showed up to help.

★ ㅡ moving her whole body and being overly expressive to release the pent up stress and kind of a way of stimming. her skipping everywhere would be a good one too :>

★ ㅡ she actually doesn't do that much of masking, only when very self aware like when she doesn't get a obvious joke or something, but ever since the girls became her friends, they try to help her and say "hazel... that wasn't serious, we were joking" or something along those lines and even try to explain it to her!

i think thats it for now?

i told you that was going to be long 😭 sorry i just needed to yap about my babie haze anyways thats it bye

[rei-ismyname]

Let's talk R-LDS

R-LDS or Resurrection-Linked Degenerative Sickness was alluded to in X-Men #4 and the Infinity Comics before being named in X-Men #7. We're told that Magneto has it and it's directly caused by Krakoan resurrection/The Five, kinda.

Here's Beast doing some alluding.

In the panels above, we learn that Hank McCoy is the only one working on the problem - the problem being Magneto's loss of his powers and his body breaking down rapidly - his very chromosomes unraveling. He seems quite sure that it could happen to 'any of us' though the lack of quarantine suggests it's not contagious.

The next bit of information we receive is from Magneto and Scott in conversation, reflecting on The Iron Night. They took down a wild sentinel that was attacking the town and Mags lost control over his powers immediately after, requiring Scott to knock him out for safety's sake. Scott is no scientist, and while Magneto is a genius polymath autodidact (with plenty of experience in genetics) it's not a character trait that's seen focus lately. Thus, I'm assuming they're discussing it as amateurs and as patient zero in Magneto's case.

Magneto confidently names the condition for the first time as well as using an acronym for it, suggesting it's confirmed to exist, he's had a positive diagnosis, and they're using the term enough to require shorthand. He even spells out the subtext for us - it was a hidden flaw in Krakoan resurrection. I'll come back to that notion. Scott says 'we don't know that for sure,' implying that R-LDS is just a theory or speculation, which Mags doesn't directly refute. Instead he lays out the worst case scenario. They can't both be right here, so what's the deal? Magneto's symptoms are obviously confirmed, but how did they get from there to here?

If Magneto is the first and only person affected by his condition, why are he and Beast so sure about its providence and everyone being in danger? How could they possibly link it to Krakoan resurrection? I'm no scientist but I do know that there's only so much you can conclude from a single data point. Magneto was indeed only resurrected by the Five once, but he died again after that on Arakko (X-Men Red #7). The body he's in came out of a portal from Overspace in Adam Brashear's underwater base (Resurrection of Magneto #3.) His body suffering a condition borne of something that happened to a different body doesn't make sense. Considering he's the only person to return to life that way AND the only one allegedly with R-LDS, that would be the place to start for Beast's sciencing.

There he is, good as new.

Word of God

In a recent AIPT interview, Tom Brevoort removed any ambiguity and just straight up confirmed it. With the caveat that his recent X-history knowledge seems pretty poor, he is the de jure ultimate authority on the matter. I don't agree with that, and not just because I don't respect him as a creator. This habit of on-panel ambiguity and editorialising in interviews is vexing.

It's especially vexing when he contradicts himself. He counterpoints his own information with some of what I just pointed out, but the fact that they've made a list of who was and wasn't resurrected suggests R-LDS is a plot point they're committed to. I have to wonder why he bothered giving a detailed answer to this question if it's 'yes,' then 'maybe', then 'it will definitely be a thing you'll see as we progress.' Saying all of that and then ending with 'we know very little so far' really makes me wonder what he's thinking. Tom Brevoort could have given his usual cagey answer about not wanting to spoil anything, but he didn't here. I'm saving most of my Brevoort-specific criticism for a separate piece, but this glib and irreverent tone is typical of his commentary - even managing a light jab at Jordan D White.

Frankly, I think it's a graceless and cynical development. There are so many character beats, mistakes, and conflicts to use from the First Krakoan Age that choosing to create R-LDS feels like a shot at the core of hopefulness and creativity that blew our socks off in 2019.

HoxPoX

House of X/Powers of X was hopeful and magical. After a decade plus of endless misery and genocides, dull stories and bizarre characterisation, for once mutants got a W. The ability to use mutants working together to right the horrendous wrongs they'd suffered was central to that - the power of community and cooperation. What they built wasn't perfect but The Five was something they got right.

What would possess someone to take the cornerstone of the greatest X-Men story of all time (don't @ me) and try to tear it down? Remember, when the dust settled we ended up in Moira X life 10E. In 10A, the original Krakoan experiment, the mutants won! They thrived and protected what was theirs against Dominions. It took a literal apex AI God existing outside of space and time directly opposing them to fail. Enigma, on the back foot, sent Omega Sentinel through time to start ORCHIS years early and ensure Krakoa's collapse. Am I to believe 'no, sorry. That was a dead end?'

Haven't we been here before?

We've had mutants suffer from the Legacy Virus and M-Pox already, and I might even be missing other examples of nebulous diseases that threatened to wipe out all mutants. Obviously it's the prerogative of the X-Office to use whatever plot points they want, but do we really have to do this again? There are plenty of ways to sideline Magneto as a combatant that don't require repackaging old storylines. We've even had Hank McCoy decades behind the curve desperately trying to catch up before - in All-New All-Different X-Men.

Small World

Defenders-era Hank McCoy might be the worst possible 616 scientist to tackle this problem. He's literally decades behind the science curve and doesn't have the experience in dealing with anything like this. He's not the same guy that worked on M-Pox or the Legacy Virus. He never set foot on Krakoa and has never met any of the Five. We don't know how much data was recorded or kept from The Five but Beast may not have access to it.

Why isn't he talking to Cecilia Reyes, Forge, Jean Grey, Reed Richards, Doctor Strange, Adam Brashear, Healer, Doctor Nemesis? Even doctor dickhead that extorted Storm has the ability to instantly diagnose anyone. It makes the world feel tiny, and when you're following an era of interconnectedness that's just so disappointing. Portraying him as supremely concerned about 'all of us being ticking time bombs' rings hollow if he's working on it solo. Hank McCoy has always had a sense of arrogance where his scientific ability is concerned but not to this degree. Look at the guy! He's hating the stress he's under.

Sins of Sinister and the White Hot Room

I have to wonder if the implications of linking Magneto's illness to The Five's resurrection have been fully considered. The Sins of Sinister timeline ran for a millennium with the Five resurrecting on an industrial scale. Rasputin IV would have noticed, or the Quiet Council. The mutants left behind in the White Hot Room in RotPox spent 15 years bringing back ALL the dead mutants. That's 16 million, minimum. 15 years is less than a thousand but it's still longer than the First Krakoan Age, several times over. Nobody noticed anything? Elixir, member of the Five and Omega biokinetic, with his unlimited mastery of DNA didn't notice anything? Destiny didn't see mutants falling apart? Sounds dubious as hell to me.

Towards the end of the era many humans were resurrected too. 5% of the Five's work was set aside for bringing back poor children etc through the Phoenix Foundation. Steve Rogers was resurrected into his current body on Judgement Day. I am extremely skeptical that this has been considered, and in Steve's case whether the X-Office can even use him.

Conclusion

Magneto's physical degradation has been swift. Here he is in Uncanny X-Men #700, implied to be at most 6 months before X-Men #1. I think I've demonstrated that the concept is nonsensical and to reiterate, I think it's a terrible narrative choice. If I'm being generous, it'll be interesting to see if they can explain R-LDS in a way that makes sense - if they can do something new and interesting with a tired concept. There's only been one issue since it was introduced, so perhaps I'm jumping the gun on breaking it down. Let's check back in 6 months.

What do you think of R-LDS? Do you think my reasoning is sound? As always, I'd love to hear what other fans think.

[drchucktingle]

mr. dr. chuck, i'm a few months ago i told a doc of mine that i believe i'm on the spectrum (after yeeeears of considering all the reasons why i thought so) and she agreed with me. then i came to some conclusions about members of my family. then i started melting down and haven't really recovered.

i'm in my 30's, but my life feels like it's been the mistake-addled 24th year for over a decade. people, choices, wants, they feel like things that were silly blips and not of much substance. i'm tired and my body hurts, so it feels harder to get to things i need. doctors don't seem like they can be trusted because of all the other ways i show up in the world.

i'm worried about my life and my future, and it feels like my magic is gone (or that i can't touch it right now). do you have any words of wisdom for someone who found out this really big thing about themselves kind of late?

thank you.

hello buckaroo thank you for writing. first of all i will say MOST IMPORTANT thing to remember is that it is okay and valid to FEEL the way that you feel. your reaction to this news or any news really is not wrong. that does not mean you cant wish for another reaction or WORK TOWARDS another reaction, but in grand cosmic sense this is just your way. YOUR TROT IS VALID and we all have our own unique way. sometimes that path is an easy path with sunny days and smiles and a glorious view, and sometimes it is through the darkness of shadows or crawling through the old bog. we can PREFER one path over the other, but neither is WRONG.

when giving advice old chuck tries to not PROJECT what i think YOU should do because that is not really the point. this is your trot to trot and i do not think it is my place to act like some authority of your way. what chuck can do is tell you MY story of diagnosis and how it made ME feel and maybe you can take little pieces of that for yourself.

chuck learned of way on autism spectrum when i was in early twenties by doctor who said 'yes this is your way'. when i learned of my spectrum way my reaction was: wow this is very very cool i am so lucky because all of my heroes are autistic and now i am in this RADICAL CLUB. we are special and unique and DANG what a treat wish i could have a membership card in my wallet to show all my buds.

now obviously this is not everyones reaction, but as starting off point i wonder what it would have meant to my future if the news would have HIT ME IN A BAD WAY. if i would have felt let a dang robot alien who didnt belong. maybe id be swimmin through the bog ever since.

thing is I LIKE ROBOT ALIENS they are very cool. doctor did not MAKE me different, i was different already, our talks just popped a nice little name on it for me to take or leave. i took the name proudly because DATA from stars trek (certified robot alien) is exactly how i already felt and dang what a cool character and dang what a great life. so was DAVID BYRNE. so was every cool buckaroo artist that i liked. cowboys are OUTSIDER HEROES and that is how my autism makes me feel.

so like i said, i do not know about YOUR way, but MY WAY of hearing this news was heaps of joy and excitement. i will also say that it is very DIFFICULT to find this reaction later if your first leap is feeling in a sad way about it. so maybe if you want to trot back in your mind to those first few steps it would be helpful. maybe mentally trot to where you were pushed off a dang cliff and think "well was i pushed off a cliff or was i just told 'hey bud youve been floating this whole time?"'

because if youve been floating then DANG thats a lot of power. thats not falling. you can float up, you can float down, you can float side to side.

the next thing i will say AS AND ARTIST is that years of toiling and feeling aimless are NEVER actually aimless when it comes to creation. and to LIVE in a human body is to be an artist, because you are CONSTANTLY CREATING the future. when i am writing and i dont have an idea for my next book that can be frustrating, but it is also PART of the process. if i walk to the store to rustle up my mind, or wander around the park, or spend a whole WEEK feeling weird because of writers block THAT IS ALL PART OF MAKING GREAT ART. that is not wasted time. in other words, your years of toiling are not wasted time, that is just the process we all have when we are creating a future masterpiece.

[swissboyhisch]

New York Luck

Pairing: Mat Barzal x Reader

Summary: After a lovely holiday, your partner breaks up with you and so you turn to your only friend in the city.

Word Count: 1055

A/N: I'm not super happy with this. I feel like it's rushed but I want to put it out anyway.

<< PREVIOUS

THE MASTERLIST JOIN THE TAGLIST HOCKEY DISCORD

Why is it that every time you come to New York, something bad happens. The last time you had gotten your shitty diagnosis. This time your current boyfriend and yourself had decided to go on a holiday to Hawaii for a week and of course, an hour after landing back in New York he decided to break your heart.

Something about not being ready for a relationship. Apparently. And here you were ready to tell him I love you on your holiday but held back because he was a little distant at night. That’s why you’re now standing in a Walmart; wearing a pair of sunglasses trying to find food.

Sadly you can’t even go home. In three days you have to have another surgery. A different one to the last time you were in New York. Now you’re stuck in the city, alone and crying your eyes out. Dealing with health issues and a break up. What a great combo. And to make things worse, you can’t even drink away your emotions!

Aisle by aisle, you grab chocolate, some cupcakes, cheese and crackers, a bit of everything. Oh and a bottle of coke, can’t forget it. That’s when you heard a familiar voice calling your name. You turned to where the voice came from. 

“Mat?”

One of the few people you knew in the city. Mat wasn’t a stranger to you. Quite the opposite actually. The pair of you grew up together then reconnected later on once he had been drafted. After a couple hook ups since the reunion, you two were close when you did meet up.

“Are you okay?” Mat questions, spying your reddened cheeks just under your glasses. 

“I uh… Yeah,” You tried to brush it off. Discreetly wiping the stray tears that dripped down your cheeks. “Just some personal stuff.”

The hockey player wasn’t buying it. He had known you long enough to see through your lies. Even if they were really bad like the one you just told. “Okay, what’s up? I know that’s a lie. You were literally just in Hawaii.”

“Stalking my insta?” You joke weakly.

“Gotta see what my favourite girl is up to.”

That made your heart hurt more. Here Mat was calling you that where as your ex could barely call you his girlfriend in front of his friends. God, you thought your relationship was great. Fuck. How could you be so blind. 

“Yeah we got back this morning and then he broke up with me an hour after we landed.”

Mat immediately brought you in for a hug. “Shit. He’s an asshole for that.”

“Doesn’t help I have surgery friday,” You add, sniffling.

“Another one?” Mat sighs. “He’s a coward for breaking up with you before that. It’s a dick move.”

You shrug off the comment. “I’d rather him do it now then drag it out. Now I can just focus on myself. Gonna get snacks and have a night in my hotel. Maybe get ice cream from the place next door.”

“Can I join?” Mat asked. 

“Are you sure?”

Matt agreed and the two of you finished grabbing snacks for the night and finished Mat’s shopping. He brought groceries for his apartment so the two created a plan. First, drop off Mat’s groceries to his apartment. Then head to your hotel to have a chill night. 

You two arrived back at your hotel, which was quite a fancy one since you and your partner had planned to stay there together. First, before retreating to your bedroom, you stopped by the ice cream place and got way too much. Enough that Mat’s nutritionist would cry at the thought of the hockey player consuming all that sugar. 

“This is nice.” The two of you walked into the nice hotel room. A modern style hotel room on the 9th floor. A king sized bed in the middle with the bathroom off to the left as you walked in. There was even a window with a blind in the shower. “Have you stayed here before?”

“Yeah, my ex worked nearby so I’d stay when I’d come to visit him,” You respond.

Mat grabbed the bag of snacks and put that on the counter, wrapped you in a hug and dragged you onto the bed. The smell of his cologne filled your senses. Despite your old hook up ways with Mat, the familiar scent still gave you butterflies.

“I wanna have a shower and get into my pyjamas,” You sighed, pulling away from Mat. You grabbed some clothes and went to go to the bathroom when a sulking sound came from the boy laying on your bed. When you looked at him, he was pulling the puppy's eyes. “What? Do you wanna join?”

“Please?” You giggled and agreed, leaving him to join you when he wished. “Thank youuuu!”

The bathroom was really modern. A large mirror in front of the sink and a huge shower with a rainfall head. Your favourite type of shower. After turning on the water to your preferred temperature, you stripped and got into the shower. The water felt calming as you stood under the stream. 

“Heya,” Mat mutters as he slips into the shower. 

You leaned into the hockey player as he wrapped his arms around you. This wasn’t the first time you had showered with him. But let’s just say usually, a simple shower wasn’t just that. 

“Are you okay?” Mat asks as you’re unusually quiet around him. That question just makes you break. A flood of emotions coming through. Mat was quick to pull you closer, tight against his naked body as you started to sob. “He’s an idiot.”

“What’s wrong with me?” You cried.

“Nothing. I promise you it’s him. He’s the worst person for doing this to you. He’s the problem.”

Once you had calmed down and the two of you had finished washing, you changed into your pyjamas and cuddled up on bed with a ton of snacks surrounding the pair of you. Mat had signed into his Disney. You allowed him to pick what the two of you would watch for the night. When you saw the intro it solidified the hidden feeling for him. It was your favourite show.

“Thanks for this,” You mutter to Mat.

The brunette kissed the top of your head. “Always.”

TAG LIST

@findapenny @mp0625 @hischierhaze @11zegras @lvrzegras @francesfarhadi @cixrosie @daisysthings

[upslapmeal]

Notes from the Taskmaster 16x10 recording

The last two episode recordings I went to, I meant to make comprehensive notes when I got home afterwards that I would be able to look back at and post when the episode aired. I did not, in fact, end up doing that. So this time I was determined to have lots of notes, and made them on the go in the breaks in recording. However. They were made in a rush and I never went back through them to pad them out (you'd really think I would have learned by now). So instead of just having to rely on my memory, I ended up with an almost coded list of words and phrases that it's taken me pretty much 2 weeks to sit down and decipher lol. So with that said:

the pre-episode Greg-Alex entertainment was Greg getting Alex to sing a song about a recent news story to the tune of a song suggested by the audience - in this case it was Trump's lawsuit (the one in May 2023 since there are...a few) to the tune of Wuthering Heights

Alex really went for the whole live thing, and was constantly referring to it throughout the episode

when the contestants came onstage, I obviously first saw Sam in his bright colours and blond hair

we were right on the back balcony and my first impression from that distance was that he kinda looked like Jamie Laing lol

Greg made a passing comment about how he's been dressing in grey but I was completely taken by surprise when the vt rolled and he looked completely different!

I had assumed he'd actually buzzed his hair and didn't realise it was a wig until the ep aired

Sue made comments throughout the episode about how Sam looked like Dahmer

Lucy's prize task story, unsurprisingly, went on for ages and included a whole story about the holiday they went on that I tragically cannot remember

I was so glad they didn't cut 'untaffled' because I looked through my notes before again before watching the episode and couldn't for the life of me remember what she'd said

Greg's said that his immediate response to naked Alex in the prize task was that he was 'smooth like an eel'

After Julian's prize task there was a discussion about how people wanted to be buried, and at one point (I wish I could remember the conversation leading up to this) either Greg or Alex said they would be buried 'together forever in the Victoria monument'

There was a whole long debate about whether Sam intended to use nature as part of his doughnut task, and whether the bird toppling Ms Doughnut to her death should be counted

Greg told Sam to 'convince me to give you 3 points'

Sam went on talking about how amazing nature is and how we're all connected and at one point said 'consider the statistics.....3000' (I'm 99% sure this is what he said and I didn't just forget the rest of the quote)

Julian's exercise name was absolutely not a one-off, to the point they started running a 'cunt count' for the episode

Sue talked about how she had recently had an ADHD diagnosis, and that she kept viewing tasks holistically rather than paying attention to the details. This was specifically in relation to the exercise where she just did the same thing 4 times

I'm not sure if we saw the full extended version of Hotel Taskmaster, but we definitely saw a cut that included more than the aired version (though tbh I think they do that for most tasks and I just noticed this one bc we got the extended version)

We got an 'I put it to you' from Greg that Alex-as-Qrs looked genuinely cool

Lucy described Alex as having 'tight metallic buns' which Greg later referred to as his 'robot arse'

I cannot stress how much of a breakdown Susan had in the studio about the forks and marbles - you get a glimpse in the episode but that was nothing!

Susan also took AGES to do her throw in the live task - she kept on being about to throw before being interrupted, or saying her arms were too short, or that she needed a wee, or having a fit of giggles, and the longer it went the worse it got lol

Greg and Alex also had a go at it, and Sue wanted another go without the pressure. Greg and Sue got the ball in but Alex didn't

Don't ask me to remember the context, but at one point during the record, Greg told a story about someone he knew (whose name he said he would tell the others backstage) who would have sex in a cow mask and would demand 'LOOK AT ME!!!'. Anyway that was referred back to a few times in the ep

When Sam was given the trophy he just stood near-motionless with it for what felt like ages before we got to the hugs and everything

And now we enter the magical world of ~what on earth was this note referring to~ where I just hope someone else who was there (@politicalprocrastinator how's your memory?) sees this and can fill me in on what I've forgotten:

At some point around the prize / first task I wrote 'correct dog guess'. Whose dog? What was being guessed? Absolutely no idea

At some point there was a joke about the 'former Prime Minister', I think the idea being that by the time the episode aired we'd inevitably have a new PM? but I honestly can't remember

Someone called someone else submissive in a way notable enough for me to have written 'submissive' as a one-word bullet point, but not notable enough for me to actually remember

And now three bullet points which I will present in their original form:

Birthday

Bum hole in back

Get in bath

[amberjazmyn]

you stayed (alt ending of "whenever you're ready, bug") 💔🫶

pairing : max verstappen x fem!younger sister verstappen reader & f1 grid x platonic!fem younger sister verstappen reader

summary : whilst max verstappen's younger sister always seemed to draw the short straw in her life, what if she actually survived and beat her cancer? what if she actually never died at the 2024 mexican grand prix and she was actually a young adult during the time of the mexican grand prix? what if she made it past all of her birthdays? what if her short straws were actually never short to begin with and they just needed some tender loving care to grow properly? 

warnings : happy ending, older brother x max, terminal illness, crying, flashbacks

a/n : the og was done for kian egan from westlife and then jared padalecki but now i've done max verstappen. i have also messed with the timeline so the first part is kind of the "alternate ending" if you will where the first one is she's younger when she dies during the mexican grand prix whereas in this one, the "og one" she's actually a lot older by the time it gets to the 2024 mexican grand prix. which i know sounds fucking confusing but please hear me out alright! so, in the first part, i had the mexican grand prix happen in 2024 and have willow be nine years old, however, in this version, she's eighteen and it was a dream she had in her "alerted" cancer state when she was nine that she had died during the mexican grand prix 2024 but as a nine year old if that makes sense. 

willow verstappen was eight-years-old when she was diagnosed with cancer. she already wasn't considered a "normal kid" because of who her family was, the verstappens. however, the moment the young girl and her mum and older brother heard the news of the heartbreaking diagnosis, they knew exactly how the press and other kids willow's age would react. to the other kids and everyone else, not only did willow's brother and his fame make the girl weird but her new cancer diagnosis made her even weirder and as though she was an exhibit in a museum.

when willow was nine-years-old when her brother and his f1 grid were starting their last race before a three week break before their next triple header, there was a moment. during the mexican grand prix, the last race before a three week break that was before the triple header that everyone, including willow herself, thought she wasn't going to make it through the entire day and wake up the next morning. but, she did wake up the next morning. she opened her eyes the next morning and cried out for her brother who was in mexico. in a rage of emotions, their sister victoria verstappen, rang their brother max in a frenzy of her own emotions. 

thinking the worst, max was mere seconds away from dropping everything at the mexico grand prix. that was until he heard the very voice he had thought, imagined, he would never hear again. he then stopped for a moment and took that as his chance to just breathe. his little sister was alive and she was okay 

willow's pov | flashback to cancer diagnosis

i could tell my mum and brother felt like the walls in the doctor's office was closing in on them. they, like me, never imagined to be getting this news. after all, it was just supposed to be just another regular hospital trip for me, eight-year-old willow verstappen.

whilst i wasn't in the office with my mum and max, whilst my doctor, dr phelps, told them, i could still hear them. especially when it's realised that the hospital is never as soundproof as one thinks, "...mr verstappen? max, did you hear what i just told you?" dr phelps questioned my brother, who until now had never really called him by his first name as max responded after blinking a couple of times

"no, sorry, what did you say? could you please repeat that?" it was obvious that max was still so far away from dr phelps' office mentally, doing his best to not tune out a second time since it was important news that dr phelps was telling my mum and brother

"i was saying that, with willow's recent diagnosis of terminal cancer, she can still try chemotherapy and maybe a little bit of radiotherapy but we are not certain that it'll work in the way it usually would if we had seen it earlier..."

ahh, yes, i could see the wheels in my brother's head start to turn as he realised what the conversation was about. his younger sister, me, had just been diagnosed with terminal cancer and were having a conversation about the roads of treatment for me. and just how successful they could be for a small eight-year-old who had many ailments before this new one. as i watched from the waiting room, i could tell that max could feel a cry building in his throat, mum also feeling it as well, holding his hand tightly as i knew they both wished they were anywhere but in dr phelps' office at this moment.

i watched as max continued the conversation, "...ah, umm, so, theoretically speaking, if my sister...willow, was to undergo a round or couple of chemotherapy and maybe radiotherapy, how long would you say we'd have her with us, realistically?" max gulped as i watched the way he fiddled with the scrunched up tissue in his palm as he squeezed mum's hand with his other hand

dr phelps paused before he continued, "now, max, i really couldn't tell you because this is so new and so late in finding the cancer in willow's system that we truly have no idea how long it could potentially prolong her life but, once the chemo and radiotherapy do start, then we can start estimating things like that..." dr phelps responded as i could tell that max felt his heart shatter

our mum feeling like she was holding all of his heart and hers together. max's face almost crumbling as he then turned away from the dr when he caught a glimpse of me. which i quickly turned my head to make it seem as though i was in conversation with his f1 teammates, daniel and charles, who had lovingly put their hands up to take care of me whilst the other drivers put their hand up to take care of kelly and penelope, once again, jos and the step-siblings nowhere to be found

hesitating to turn his head back around, he quickly did so before continuing on, making me turn to look back at my mum and brother and dr phelps, "...she doesn't deserve this..." hearing my brother so heartbroken and his voice so croaky from his tears was not something i'd ever heard before as he brought his tissue up to cover his face, mum comforting him whilst dr phelps sighed solemnly

"...no, she doesn't max, no one her age does. she's so young but, unfortunately, these things happen and it's absolutely cruel but i promise, we'll do everything we can to make sure your little girl has the best chance of surviving and beating her cancer since she was so strong during all of her other surgeries and ailments," dr phelps was confident in the idea that once again, i was going to survive another diagnosis

but heartbreakingly, i could tell mum and max thought otherwise and it seemed as though, in my eyes, i too thought the same thing as my mum and brother.

as mum, max and dr phelps continued to chat, i silently slipped my hands into both of daniel and charles' hands since i was sat in the middle of them. i was absolutely terrified and it didn't take a genius for daniel and charles to figure it out either and the looks we shared with each other weren't as helpful as we hoped they'd be.

present time

as i remebered the day i was diagnosed, i remembered that i didn't cry like i had imagined myself i would have. because if you know my family well, most especially my parentals but specifically my dad (hauk tuh - and not in that way, jos verstappen), my family is not known to be an emotional family. that is, discounting me, i am the one in the family that basically carries all the emotions for the entire family. like, to the point that max has made fun of me in many f1 press conferences about it that the reason he isn't as emotional about things is not only by our dad's fault but also by the fault that i took all of the tears in the family. so the fact i didn't cry after my cancer diagnosis is something i'm just realising years later at nearly nineteen years old and that's insane to me. completely insane because at eighteen, nearly nineteen, i'm still the crybaby that i was until my cancer diagnosis.

right now, i was hanging out with penelope, the little girl of max's girlfriend kelly piquet. she was very young, an actual toddler, when i was going through my cancer and it's something that she genuinely does not rememeber well whereas my little step-sister blue jaye, who was maybe slightly older than penelope, has some lingers of memories here and there. i have been told though that there are times that she, penelope, does have vague memories and it makes her really upset and panicky. but what makes her upset and panicky is because she can't remember everything about it, only small little pieces of it. since then, the verstappen family has grown thanks to father verstappen having yet another wife, which is lucky number three apparently but that's okay. 

but, going back to hanging out with penelope, we were literally just getting ready to head out to the beach since i could drive and had my own car now. and, because of that, i could drive us down since mum was busy with victoria's littles and max and kelly were on a date night hence why i had penelope with me. everything was completely fine and happy as penelope and i got ready together, penelope on one side of my room and me on the other. but, i was taking a bit longer, penelope had popped her head over the divider to check in on me. i was no longer fine and happy. as i slipped on my bikini and reached up to grab my surfboard and wetsuit, i had caught a glimpse of all my scars and my porthole where i could get my chemo put in. it was really the first time i had seen it since i had been named in remission and by every technicality, cancer-free. and i hadn't realised how traumatising and ugly the scars and porthole actually was until this moment. the moment which i actually took a moment to stop and look at it after actively avoiding my glance from it for so many years.

and i cried.

i cried my eyes out nearly nine whole years after my initial diagnosis.

i hadn't cried this much or this hard i don't think since i had told victoria that i thought i was going to die during the mexican grand prix. and obviously, hearing and seeing penelope peak over meant that she had heard my break down into tears. and usually, similar to mum and max, but especialy max, i'd usually try to hide it in front of the littles, especially penelope. but, this time, i just couldn't. not because i couldn't control my tears but because i needed to stop hiding my emotions from my family, including kelly and penelope.

after her knock, i heard her voice and it made me smile, "...you okay willow?" she asked as i tearfully giggled, wiping my hand underneath my nose

"you can come back to my side of the room if that's what you're asking p, i'm fully dressed now," i tearfully chuckled as i turned away slightly from the divider and looked back at myself in my full-length mirror

i then heard the divider slightly creek as penelope walked back to my side of the room. she then noticed me in the mirror and her face fell as she saw my tear-stained face. immediately, she rushed over and pulled me in for a hug as she quickly noticed what it was that i was staring at in my reflection. my porthole and other scars being the first thing that started penelope's memories of me having cancer whilst she was a toddler.

and then, the next thing she said was the utmost sweetest thing in the world and made me cry even more, "don't let those scars upset you anymore, willow. because they're the reason why i can hug my aunty every day! you may think it's ugly but, i don't. i see them as the reason why you're still alive and got to watch me and the rest of the littles grow up ! if it's making you so upset to look at it in your bikini, which i think you great in by the way willow, we don't have to go surfing today if it's making you feel a bit icky to do so. we could just instead go for a walk along the beach and go surfing over the weekend with mum, maxie, victoria and the family?" penelope sincerely asked as she didn't let me go out of her hug as i smiled, shocked at how this little kid, my little niece was so emotionally intelligent

pulling back out of the hug, tears still streaming down my cheeks but for happier reasons this time, i nodded my head, "that sounds perfect p, thank you, baby girl! you are such a sweetheart and i love you so much, sweetheart. of course, we can go for a walk on the beach and then go surfing with the family over the weekend. i'll just throw some clothes over the top of my bikini and then we can hit the road, that sound okay p?" i asked after thanking my niece as she nodded her head, swiftly leaving my room without another question as i then threw on a pair of linen pants and a halter crochet top before grabbing my phone

meeting penelope downstairs as she handed me a pair of flip flops, my car keys and handbag, we said farewell to max's cats, jimmy and sassy. we then got into my car and we drove down to secret beach.

flashback | willow's pov

it was the mexican grand prix and my brother and the other drivers were in mexico when i thought i'd not wake up the next day. it was during the day that victoria was looking after me when i genuinely thought my life support machine and my body was going to go awol and that i wasn't going to wake up the next morning. i was aboslutely terrified to close my eyes, worried that if i did, i wouldn't wake up tomorrow. suddenly remembering all the other times i was tired and knowing that i'd wake up the next morning. however, more recently, falling asleep and just closing my eyes has been scary for me.

shaking with worry, i reached over to grab victoria's hand which she immediately grabbed, "what's wrong, love?" she asked without hesitation as i tried to calm down as best as i could

"i...i'm so scared to fall asleep, vic. what...what if i don't wake up tomorrow morning?" i whispered fearfully as victoria softened as she held my hand, squeezing it tightly

"oh, willow. don't be scared, i'll stay here, awake with you all night and make sure nothing bad happens to you throughout the night. you are safe sweetpea, big sissy victoria's got you!" she whispered as i nodded my head but still didn't want to close my eyes

however, with some more encouragement from victoria and her singing my favourite album, we managed to get me to close my eyes and fall asleep. just hoping, praying, that i was going to be able to open my eyes the next morning.

and i did. i opened my eyes the next morning.

and i cried out for my maxie, enough though i knew he wasn't here in monaco.

and in a flurry of her own emotions, victoria rushed to grab her phone and ring him.

and i just knew he was ready to drop everything, thinking the worst. ready to leave the mexico grand prix when he heard the one voice i think he also thought, imagined, he wouldn't hear again.

i was still alive.

present time | 2024

finally, after what felt like forever, and the hell that was the three week break between the mexican grand prix and the triple header, f1 was back in full swing. so, here the entire f1 family were at the dutch grand prix and it was an emotional moment, that's for sure. and it wasn't just because we were finally back as a family. but because i was eighteen, an age that no one thought i'd be able to reach because of the cancer that i was now in complete remission from. also because, the dream i had when i was younger that i would die during the 2024 mexican grand prix as a nine year old hadn't come true. obviously, because i'm eighteen in 2024, not nine. and it was also actually the anniversary of my first diagnosis back when i was eight years old and i was now eighteen. so, i just knew that at some point during the press conference, most likely when max was there, that he would talk about it. and then get emotional over it which would then get me emotional over it all over again. 

and, who would've thought, i was correct? however, i did not think it would have my brother inviting me up to the press conference couch but, in all honesty, i didn't care. i grew up with this f1 grid and the cameras so i wasn't uncomfortable on the couch and around the drivers so, i went along with it. 

smiling, i walked to the couch and over to my brother, sitting in the middle of him and daniel. getting smooshed into a maxiel sandwich has honestly always been my favourite thing about having my brother as an f1 driver. even at the age of eighteen, when max was debuting all those years ago when i was much younger, i still enjoyed all the hugs the same way i did when i was a little girl. 

max then grabbed my hand, grabbing the attention of the media personel and the moderator of the entire press conference. still giving me a shock at how easily he and the other racers could control them. he then introduced his little speech as everyone happily filmed it and took photos. 

"...i'm so sorry guys but, can i just say something?" max queries, making me giggle as the couch and media cheer at his question 

giving me a smile, he then continues, "so, as everyone possibly already knows, this is one of my younger sisters, willow, who is eighteen years old..." he trails off as everyone, including the drivers on the couch, are in shock, the shock rippling through the crowd which induces laughter

which, i can't lie, also included me too. because, i truly forget too that i am eighteen myself. 

"...i know, it's crazy to say i have an eighteen-year-old sister too so, don't worry, it's just as shocking for me as it is for you guys! but umm, that's not the reason why i invited her to join this press conference. the reason why i invited willow on the couch for this press conference is that, on this very day when she was eight years old, we were told that willow had cancer..." he trailed off as i smiled softly and squeezed his hand tighter as he smiled back, daniel, charles and lando moving closer by as well

taking a deep breath, max continued, "...and for a while, we didn't think willow would make it through the very beginning or through the races she was able to go to during her diagnosis. or in mexico during the mexican grand prix we were especially worried something bad would happen after she had turned nine. because, during this time, it seemed as though willow's chemo was not effective anymore. it was during the mexican grand prix 2014/15 that she thought she wasn't going to wake up the next morning. i remember because like i already mentioned, we were just about to start the race and i got a phone call from our sister victoria. and immediately, i thought she'd be on the other line in absolute hysterics telling me that willow had died but, she hadn't. she had rung me up because willow had woken up and had cried out for me. hearing my little sister's voice that day, just as i was ready to drop everything and leave mexico for my little sister. to then hear that she was okay and that she was still alive was all i needed to know that she was getting better. and that maybe, just maybe, she'd recover and be okay again..." max once again trailed off as it started to get way too emotional as i smiled, feeling slightly embarrassed as the crowd stayed in utter silence

which is probably why i felt a little bit uncomfortable at the same time. since, the f1 media are never this quiet and are always the ones asking for the invasive answers that max had just suddenly become comfortable to talk about. the moderator then asked if i wanted to stay on the couch for the actual recorded and shown conference and i couldn't say no so, i didn't. 

so, i stayed on the couch with the drivers and i was also asked some questions that i got to answer which was super cool. and it felt so surreal to be on the press conference couch on the other side since i was almost always either watching the press conferences on tv or in the red bull hospitality. having the privilege to even be alive and be in complete remission from my cancer. 

then, after i answered a journalists question, max raised his microphone to his mouth and spoke up again. revealing some news that we had only just found out this very morning to the point that, i don't even think he had told daniel, charles, lando or the rest of the attending drivers.

max smiled brightly as he got everyone's attention as he announced the news, "...this morning, we found out the best news in regards to willow and her cancer. we got told this morning that she is finally in complete remission and has been said to be cancer-free!" he smiled tearfully as i turned around on the couch to see how daniel, charles and lando reacted and it made me teary-eyed

giving me the answer that this was the first time they had been told as well. daniel, charles and lando then hopped off their spots on the couch and pulled us in for a group hug in which i started to cry. in pure joy that i was healthy again, my cancer is finally gone and i didn't have to be constantly in the hospital anymore.

the press conference then finished and the other drivers who were waiting for their own press conference gave me hugs and congratulations. then we went back to the red bull garage and i just hung out with max, kelly and penelope for a little bit. 

°∘❉∘°

the free practice and media day had finally finished and as we relaxed and enjoyed each other's company, i got a notification saying that max had posted to his instagram. and i just knew instantly what it was he had posted about. he had been saying all day that he had wanted to also make an instagram post, announcing that i was officially in complete remission and cancer-free. so, he did. 

liked by willowverstappen, victoriaverstappen, landonorris, heidiberger, danielricciardo, francisca.cgomes and 12,001k others

maxverstappen1 when willow was eight-years-old, she was diagnosed with terminal cancer, the uncertainty of her survival. however, all these years later and i have an eighteen-year-old, nearly nineteen year old sister, who i got to see reach all of her special milestones. like her tenth birthday, her high school graduation, her eighteenth and soon her nineteenth. she also got to see her step-siblings be born, all of their births and will be healthy enough to watch them grow up even more and watch them reach their special milestones. my younger sister stayed and it is the biggest joy to say that willow is now in complete remission and cancer-free! i love you so much, willow violet verstappen. and if i had to watch you go through cancer all over again, i would do it. because it reminded me of truly how special and irreplaceable you are. you were the final of mum and dad's angels and our favourite sister. you know we would do everything and anything to make sure you were your happiest, your healthiest and your best. and i truly do believe that this next season in your life, with you cancer-free and no longer in hospitals constantly, you'll be truly successful in every single thing you wish to do with your life! you are such a strong girl and even though you always say it was me, mum, victoria, kelly, penelope and the f1 family as the reasons why you stayed, i truly believe that it was you that made yourself stay. and that it was you that gave you the strength to push through. your older brother loves you willow, thank you for staying 🤍

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willowverstappen i love you so much, maxie! i am truly so grateful to be cancer-free! and don't thank me for staying, of course i'd stay 🤍

maxverstappen1 willowverstappen i love you more willow and i know you're grateful and so am i 🤍

victoriaverstappen these photos of our little sister! i cannot believe she's nearly nineteen 🤍

maxverstappen1 victoriaverstappen i know right? it makes me feel so old, like, we nearly have a nineteen-year-old sister!

landonorris i swear to god, we need to stop telling each other things for the first time during press conferences! but, in all seriousness, it brings me so much happiness that willow is cancer-free!

maxverstappen1 landonorris lol, we really do! and it brings me so much happiness as well, getting that phone call from dr phelps was like a dream come true!

heidiberger still in shock that willow's cancer free!

maxverstappen1 heidiberger i'm still in shock too

danielricciardo best news ever, max! hearing that willow's cancer-free was truly the highlight of the entire media day!

maxverstappen1 danielricciardo i agree! i had moments where i just wanted to scream it out way earlier in the press conference but i knew i couldn't!

francisca.cgomes this is great news max! i'm so glad that willow is finally cancer-free! it seems as though that time from eight years old to eighteen/nineteen has been a whirlwind for you all but also somewhat of a fever dream!

maxverstappen1 francisca.cgomes i know! so am i, it's been a long, windy road but, i'm glad we've finally reached the end of it! 

liked by maxverstappen1, kellypiquet, pierregasly, victoriaverstappen, carlossainz55, christianhorner and 11,000k others

willowverstappen life since being cancer-free 🤍

~

being a survivor of childhood cancer, amongst other things throughout my life, i knew i wanted to stay and stay alive the moment i was told i had the "big c". since entering complete remission and getting labelled cancer-free, i've graduated high school, i've travelled back and forth from each corner of the globe, from monaco, to the states, to australia and back. i've turned eighteen, i've gone on nights out with my parents and f1 grid family (only in europe and australia). i've gone to grand prixs with my family and i've surfed. i've been able to live my life in ways that i hadn't been able to do in years and i didn't have to worry about the scars, i didn't have to worry about being tired, i didn't have to worry about the fear of simply closing my eyes and if they'd open the next morning. i've been able to take care of and hang out with my step-siblings and my nieces and nephews, especially little p, i've seen them grow up, from when they were toddlers when i was first diagnosed to when cousins of mine came along later on when i was recovering, to their handsome and gorgeous selves now. when i was battling cancer, i couldn't do the things i can do now. i couldn't surf, i couldn't drink (i mean, that was because i was underage the majority of the time and still am in some countries), i couldn't go into physical school and had to do it all online when i wasn't violently ill, i couldn't travel back and forth around the world and had to stay in monaco or the netherlands. i couldn't have an extravagant ninth or tenth birthdays for that matter, and i couldn't go to races with my f1 family. when i had cancer, i was constantly riddled with the fear and anxiety of not being able to live another day because of how tired, sore and exhausted i was. having to see but also hear your family, most especially your brother, who isn't an emotional person, cry and not being able to help them other than offer a hand or a soft smile for comfort was agonising. the number of times i watched my brother cry as he sat in the same hospital chair over and over again just to make sure i was still breathing through the night is no longer countable since he had done it so many times. the number of times i had to watch my f1 family cry as they also sat and watched to make sure i was still alive throughout the day is immeasurable. thankfully, i didn't have to see my littles cry a lot, especially because they were so young at the time and were rarely visiting the hospital. but, at the same token, it makes me feel sick to think about the times when the other cousins were around that they did cry during my cancer battle and i wasn't there to tell them that everything was going to be okay. but now, whenever they do cry or they are upset, i can be there for them straight away. and it was all because i stayed alive and i didn't let myself have my family go through the agony of having to live without me. because i couldn't do that to them, no way.

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maxverstappen1 i love you, more than words can describe willow! you strong, brave girl!

willowverstappen maxverstappen1 i love you most maxie! and i'm only strong because of you, victoria and mum

kellypiquet crying my eyes out reading this!

willowverstappen kellypiquet i cried writing this, believe it or not!

pierregasly hearing your brother announce during the panel that you're finally cancer-free after completing complete remission is the best news to hear!

willowverstappen pierregasly i genuinely had no idea that he hadn't told you guys yet! so seeing how everyone all reacted made me cry!

victoriaverstappen i'm still screaming over the news that you're finally cancer-free!

willowverstappen victoriaverstappen so am i vic! it's the best feeling ever!

carlossainz55 i am so beyond relieved that you are cancer-free, sweet willow! i remember when i first met you when you were just a little baby and now you're a glowing eighteen-year-old

willowverstappen carlossainz55 aw, thank you carlitos! i am relieved too and thank you again!

christianhorner i'm so glad you're cancer-free willow!

willowverstappen christianhorner so am i! i cannot believe it sometimes!

fin

yay, another one-shot done and i am so glad it's over! and yes, i know i fucked up the timeline, i mentioned that in the above author's note that it would be happening. this part two is not my favourite out of all the ones i've written but that's okay! i've found it slightly hard to write for f1 because i always forget to add in the fact that they are f1 drivers lol! but no matter, it'll get better i'm sure!

©⠀amberjazmyn's original work. do not translate or steal any of my fics. 2024

[eccentricgrace]

juice jam || IronDad

summary: peter and tony go out for smoothies, they get interrupted by some annoying paps.

tags: fluff, protective tony stark, banter, paparazzi, tony stark acting as peter parker's father figure

wc: 2,563

cross-posted to wattpad under the same name!

"Your pick is fine, I'm not saying it's not!" Peter argued back quickly, his eyes wide. On his own tongue, the cold icy fractals of his far more delicious Pink Starburst smoothie. "I'm just saying it's not the best one on the entire menu, that's all."

Tony held the foam cup of his Chocolate Moo'd in a protective vice grip— which is basically blended chocolate frozen yogurt —and screwed up his face. He lowered his shades with an inelegant poise and a good serving of disgruntlement. "Pete, you're drinking a smoothie that is literally called 'candy in a cup'. I think I'll take my own advice and hold off from the type two diabetes diagnosis for a few more years."

"Okay," Peter said. "Okay. Okay. But you haven't even tried it. I bet you'll admit mine is better if you try it. Ned did. He didn't believe me at first either, he refused to say anything was as good as the strawberry banana one."

"I'm inclined to agree with him just to tick you off."

Peter huffed and put the half-guzzled cup on the table. He pushed it towards Tony. "Just try it. You're so grumpy, Mr. Stark. For no reason."

"'No reason,' he says," Tony mumbled, reaching for the bright pink smoothie. "As if you didn't come into my smoothie haven, my church of juice, and begin spewing— spewing blasphemy."

Peter hid back his smile.

Tony had picked him up from school today. Plans were to have sitcom-takeout night with May, but as they were getting into the car, Peter had gotten a message about her having to work late. With their plans changed, and both of them damp with the autumnal rain that was nasty and cold the way New York rain usually was: of course the best way to waste time and beat the cold was even colder smoothies.

They were at the Jamba Juice at Rockefeller Plaza, which in itself was a feat considering the company he was in. Tony was wearing his "disguise", which really only consisted of his shades, a hat, jeans, and a hoodie pulled over his head. Nobody had noticed them yet.

Peter couldn't help but wonder what people saw when they looked at them in the corner of the store. The way they bantered sometimes, the ease of which they moved in each other's company— they'd been referred to as "father and son" more than once by cashiers and waiters alike. It was a nice compliment, to be seen that close to someone he looked up to. He could keep it tucked very secretly under his sleeve, for no other purpose than to keep him warm.

(And maybe sometimes he wondered how Tony felt whenever someone said something like that. The casual "I'll get a table for you and your son" or "you and your son look so alike!")

Tony took a sip of the pink smoothie, staring blankly ahead of him. Peter watched expectantly for something dramatic— his eyes to light up, his brows to raise, his hands to be thrown in the air with the angry astonishment of being proven dead wrong.

Instead, Tony sighed, put the cup down. Indignantly went to his own drink, furiously sipping at the straw. Peter's smile grew.

Then, finally:

"Fine."

"Yes!" Peter burst with victorious laughter, reaching over the table and taking his smoothie back. "I told you! I told you so. I would never lie about this. It's too important."

"Oh, so this is too important for you to lie, but when you had that little injury the other day, it wasn't?" Tony asked, a dry smile plastered on his face. "Is that what you're saying to me right now? Your poor old man?"

Peter's grin turned guilty, and he quickly went back to finishing the second half of his smoothie.

"Geez," Tony commented with amusement. "Ease up on that straw, you're gonna go into one of your spider-hibernation things. The middle of a Jamba Juice is not the time or place, kid."

"I think it's the perfect time and place, actually. Really truly. I can feel myself getting sleepy just thinking about it."

"Har har. What a comedian you are," Tony said, sliding out of the booth. He stuffed his phone back into his pocket. "You ready to go?"

"Yep!"

Peter wiped his hands of the sticky, watered-down juice that had dribbled down the side of the cup, and stood.

As he did so, the back of his spine began to buzz. He heard a series of shuddering clicks, and he narrowed his eyes to look around the small space.

"What's going on?" Tony asked casually, but there was an undertone of something distinctive in its quality for fixing things. He had clearly taken notice of whatever changed in Peter's face, because this was the voice he only used when they were dealing with Spidey extracurriculars.

Peter forced his shoulders to relax. He scratched at his face, half-covering his mouth, and lowered his voice to say: "Dunno. Someone's watching us."

Tony hummed impassively, but Peter saw his eyes sharpen, he saw the way the heads-up display of his glasses lit up faintly from behind the dark lense. He subtly scanned over the joint, like Peter did, and finally landed on something outside the window.

"Paparazzi," Tony said simply. He sighed deeply and began to shuck off his hoodie and hat. "Alright, kid. Pop quiz, listening? Trade."

"Uh," Peter helplessly let the trash in his hands be taken, and instead grabbed hold of the hoodie that was tossed into his hands. "I guess?"

"Put those on." Tony walked over and threw both of their cups and napkins in the trash. He walked back and smoothed over the wrinkles on his dress shirt. "Do you smile at the camera people?"

"Yes?" Peter guessed, his voice muffling through the fabric of the thick hoodie he was wrestling over his head. (Funnily enough, Tony's old clothes were all slowly becoming his size. It's crazy what a growth spurt and benching the equivalent of like, forty trains on a daily basis can do to a physique.)

"Wrong. Never smile at the paps," Tony shoved the hat over Peter's head, a baseball cap of the Yankees, which he as a proud Queens born-and-raised local would pretend not to be personally offended by. "They're gonna ask you a bunch of questions, are you gonna answer them?"

"No," Peter said, more sure of his answer this time.

"Good job." Tony reached over and fit the hood snuggly down on his head, drawing the strings in a little. "Are you gonna look at them?"

"No—" Peter squirmed as Tony started to mess with the hat to further cover his head. "Mr. Stark, is all this really necessary? I mean, they already got a picture of my face earlier!"

"Believe me, they're not gonna have that picture by the end of the day, and I don't intend to give them anymore." Tony patted him on the shoulder. "Alright, you're all set. Listen, this part is important: stay close to me, don't get lost in the crowd, and absolutely don't listen to anything they say. They're gonna try to provoke a reaction from you. Don't buy into it."

"Okay," Peter gave a smile, while a weak, uncomfortable laugh bubbled out from his chest. "I think I got it. I still don't get why you think they'd care about who I am, though. I'm not the celebrity, you are. They're not gonna care about some—"

"Spider-baby-asking-questions time is over," Tony said, raising his eyebrows. "The more we stand here, the more cameras there's gonna be when we finally get out on the street. Time to go."

"I—" Peter blubbered for a second, and then followed Tony quickly as he turned to the door. Stay close.

Peter learned quickly that Tony walked very fast when paparazzi were involved. He also learned quickly that paparazzi were the closest human equivalent to mosquitos in the summer heat. They swarmed, an entire bloodthirsty group that materialized out of seemingly nowhere, and they were so loud, all buzzy and everything.

He clumsily dodged through bright flashes of the most cameras he'd ever seen, never less than two feet from Tony at all times. If he wanted to, he could count maybe seven different people shouting questions at him, even more shouting at Tony.

"Kid! Look here! Hey! Hey, over here— Hey! Give me a smile! Can you smile for us? Hey, Tony!"

"Mr. Stark! Few questions for the record? What are you doing with a kid?"

"Hey, look over here! I've got a few questions for— Can you spare a minute of your time?"

Tony was valiant as he weaved through the mob, only glancing back every few seconds to make sure Peter was behind him and in sight. The occasional sarcastic comment that brought Peter back to watching YouTube interview compilations way before all of this.

Anyways, he made it look so easy, all of it practiced and seamless, which made sense after Peter remembered that his mentor practically grew up in all of... this. He wondered if Tony would tell him any horror stories of dodging this when he was a kid— he wondered if he even wanted to know.

"Tony, just a second! What happened with the Accords? Have you heard from Captain America?"

"Look over here! Here! Mr. Stark, who is that?"

"Kid, what's your name? Look here for us! Hey!"

He and Tony had almost made it to the car, and Peter was following all the rules. It was harder to not smile than he thought, solely because this whole thing had rapidly become increasingly intolerable, and Peter had a habit of smiling when he was nervous, but he was doing well so far.

In fact, it helped a lot to focus on how miserable it all was, really. When he felt a nervous smile coming on, he just redirected his attention to the cacophony of camera shudders that were assaulting his very sensitive eardrums, or the people yelling over each other, or even the general sound of several shoe pairs scraping over asphalt and concrete. Sensory hell. Don't even get him started on the flashing lights.

"Hey kid, get his attention for us!"

Peter's whole body buzzed loudly, and then he was yanked back by the wrist.

He was fine. Obviously he was fine. Maybe shaken, maybe even the tiniest bit impressed by the audacity, but he was Spider-Man, and he was capable of simply jerking his arm back— which he did.

The facts above apparently didn't matter in the slightest to Tony, because when Peter met his gaze again in the crowd, there was something in it so angry that his lungs went tight with alarm.

"Did you just grab him?" Tony said dangerously, staring at the offender with a blazing fury in his eyes. "Did you fucking grab him? You do that again you're getting amputated by the fucking limb, you hear me?"

He pushed back through the crowd and took hold of Peter's sleeve. Cameras flashed. Peter's face was a bright, embarrassed, cherry red. Tony was breaking his own rule, mortifyingly, just because of him. Oops.

"I'm sorry," came the voice of a man who absolutely didn't sound sorry. "I apologize sir, I just wanted a few lines for an article—"

"Oh, yeah, you wanted a few lines? I'll give you a few lines, buddy. What's your name? What company do you work for? Huh?"

Tony was yelling. Yelling like Peter had never seen him yell before, and the cameras continued to rattle and blind his peripheral vision. He tried tugging at his arm down to get Tony's attention, because the grip Tony had on his sleeve was firm enough to make his knuckles white and he'd surely notice the slightest movement.

"Mr. Stark, we gotta go," Peter tried. "C'mon."

Tony, his face still snarled up like the protective thorn of a blackberry bush, hesitated then. He schooled his expression into something tight-lipped and lock-jawed, and then steamrolled forward to the car.

As soon as they got in, Tony quickly locked their doors, and Peter let out the breath he'd been holding. He reached up and pulled the hood off, then tossed the hat to the backseat.

"Wow. That was—"

"Are you okay?" Tony asked, the stiffness never leaving his posture.

His eyes were darting all over Peter for any other signs of injury or distress. They lingering especially on his wrist for a moment, then Tony reached for his arm gently and scanned over the area with stressed meticulousness. His eyebrows furrowed, his trembling thumb trailing lightly over the skin.

"I'm all good," Peter promised, his eyes wide. "Really, I'm totally okay, no bruises, no breaks."

Tony looked... bad.

His eyes shot back up to Peter's, and there was a lot of guilt in the way they narrowed. If he didn't know any better, he'd say Tony even looked misty. Admittedly, that was horrifying; like it always was watching a trusted adult break down a little.

He always hated it when May cried, but she did cry— after a bad shift, or a sad movie, or one of those pet commercials on television, Peter always heard the tell-tale sniffle at his side, and the way she always would look up as if it would stop the tears. (It never did.)

But that was May, and Tony was not May. This just was different. Tony Stark didn't cry. Tony Stark was Iron Man, he was invincible, surely he wouldn't shed a tear just because some stranger grabbed his wrist a bit too tight.

Peter frowned. "Mr—"

Tony let go of his arm, then turned the key into the engine. He sniffed once, and didn't look back at Peter. "FRIDAY, I want all those articles and photos deleted as soon as they hit the web. Kid, seatbelt on."

"Yes, sir."

The car went silent, except for the anxious drumming of Tony's hands against the steering wheel. After a few long moments, even that had subsided. Tony seemed calm enough now that Peter's curiosity sparked up again.

"You looked at them," Peter spoke up. He looked at Tony through the corner of his eye. "You, uh... talked back to them too. Kinda broke your own rules."

"Yeah." Tony shrugged. "Well, rules kind of mean jack to me if I think you're in danger. Part of the job."

"The job?"

"Taking care of you. Making sure you're safe, protected, happy, healthy, learned, and whatever," Tony said, one hand coming off the wheel to make aimless gestures as he spoke. "You know, the job."

Peter's definitely heard of all of those responsibilities. The thing is, he heard them in some health class lesson, listed as the job description for a parent.

"The job," Peter repeated quietly.

Tony shrugged again. He turned at an intersection. "Yeah. Whatever, I read mentoring books. I'm a good student."

"Right."

"You sure you're okay?" Tony asked again, glancing over, giving him a quick scan. "Adrenaline should be worn off by now, huh? Still nothing hurts?"

"No," Peter said, feeling like he was in some kind of accidental-pseudo-father-acquisition daze. He blinked a few times at the sudden alarm in Tony's expression. "I mean—No, nothing hurts. I'm all good."

The relief again, palpable in the air as Tony relaxed in his seat. He nodded quickly and finally turned onto the Queensborough bridge. "Good. That's good. Alright. Great. This was fun, kid, huh? You had fun?"

"Yeah, definitely," Peter agreed easily. He let himself smile. He felt light. "It was a lot of fun."

"Good," Tony returned his smile. "Let's get you home to Aunt May, then."

"Yeah," Peter sat back in his seat. He turned the radio on and smiled comfortably. "Okay."

[kickthecan-revolution]

The first person I talked to today in the waiting room was Mark. I met he and his partner yesterday I think? He’s getting radiation for basal cell carcinoma on his face, just six rounds. I mostly talked to his partner yesterday but she wasn’t there today. He asked me a lot of questions about my experience and then I asked a few of my own about his – he used the phrase “mental thought traffic” that I really like. They called him away abruptly, but he came back to say goodbye and to catch my name again. He radiated kindness, that sounds cheesy, but it’s true

The second person was Michael. I got up to use the bathroom and when I came back, he had sat down. The only chair was right next to him, kind of close, but of course we’re all wearing masks so I only worried about it a little. He immediately started talking to me and told me his life story – gay, his partner died years ago, and he adopted his partner’s niece as his daughter. He moved into his parents’ home here in San Francisco after they died, they bought it 50 years ago. He has chestnut brown hair and the most beautiful skin – it was very hard for him to talk, clearly something was going on with his mouth. I was shocked when he told me he was 75- he leaned in and whispered, “it must be the hair dye”. I said no, it’s your beautiful skin! At the dentist, they found tongue, cancer, two months later he broke his hip and had to have another operation, and then two months after that, his oncologist found more cancer in the lymph nodes. I don’t know what his diagnosis is or life expectancy, that’s not a question that you really ask. He talked about how the hip replacement was more vulnerable and frightening than the cancer and he really doesn’t ever want to leave his house but he may have to if he gets older and doesn’t have anyone to take care of him.

He is a historian by profession, and I learned some things about Germany before World War II I had no idea about. I could’ve listened to him for hours, he was fascinating and so lovely and said his first crush was on Hawkeye from MASH / he probably shared that crush with both men and women.

He got called away abruptly and we gave each other a hug goodbye. Then it was my turn, they used a machine where I could watch my breath move from a big circle to a small one and I had to hold it in the small circle as long as they told me to. At first it freaked me out, I know that holding your breath is critical in radiation but then I got competitive with it and wanted to hit the small circle each time.

A few hours after I was done, I had an acupuncture appointment. I did not bet on sitting with my acupuncturist, both of us crying in the darkened office. I feel like my life is so fractured across so many of these kind of strangers that I occasionally feel very close to. It’s surreal.

Nine down, 11 more to go. I am over it, but I think I’m just exhausted and not feeling well from the infusion. It’s all doable.

[kikimurphys]

Behind Closed Doors (Part 15)

Pairing: Cillian x Y/N

Warnings: Pregnancy complications, anxiety.

Your phone buzzed, and Ash’s name popped up on the screen. “Just saw your message. Calling you now,” the text read.

A moment later, her name appeared again, this time with an incoming call. You quickly answered, trying to steady your voice. “Hey, Ash.”

“Hey, what’s going on?” Concern was clear in her voice, though she tried to keep it calm.

Taking a deep breath, you started to explain everything—the frightening moment when you first noticed the bleeding, the rushed trip to the hospital, and the eventual diagnosis of placenta previa. Ash listened closely, offering quiet reassurances, her understanding like a balm. Even though her own pregnancy had been different, she instinctively knew what to say.

“I’m here for you, always,” she assured you. “Do you want me to come visit? I can figure something out with my husband and Liam. You’re gonna need help, whatever the doctors say. Plus, you haven’t even met your nephew yet.”

The thought of her coming to Dublin was comforting, but you hesitated. “I don’t want to mess up your plans, especially with Liam,” you replied, though the idea of her being there was tempting.

“Don’t be daft. You’re my sister. If you need me, I’ll be there,” she insisted, her tone leaving no room for argument.

“I’ll think about it,” you said, still wavering between needing her support and not wanting to cause trouble.

“What about the father? I know you said you weren’t together, but…” Ash’s voice trailed off, the curiosity and concern evident.

You hesitated before telling her. When you finally did, there was a brief pause on the other end, followed by her surprised reaction. “Oh! So that’s why you were being so secretive. Cillian Murphy, huh?”

You sighed, feeling a wave of mixed emotions. “Yeah. We met while I was working on Peaky Blinders last summer.”

“Oh right, I remember you mentioning that gig. Didn’t realize you’d gotten so close with the cast,” she nudged you.

“Well, I wasn’t supposed to,” you admitted with a chuckle. “But things happened, and, well, here we are.”

“And are the two of you… together?” Ash asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Not exactly… yes… I mean, I don’t know,” you said with a laugh, feeling the weight of the complicated relationship pressing down on you.

“Well, are you or aren’t you?” she pressed, wanting clarity.

“It’s complicated,” you replied, frustration creeping in as you tried to explain the emotional rollercoaster you’d been on.

You took a deep breath and started to spill everything—how your relationship with Cillian had developed, the moments of deep connection that made you feel loved and cherished, and the doubts that had crept in, leaving you feeling insecure and unsure. You told her how you sometimes wondered if he was ashamed of you or the baby, how that fear gnawed at you, making it hard to fully trust what you had.

There was a thoughtful pause on the other end before Ash spoke again, her voice full of empathy. “From everything you’ve told me, it doesn’t sound like he’s ashamed of you or the baby. It sounds like he really cares about you. Maybe he’s just trying to protect you. I mean, he’s really famous, and the press can be brutal. Maybe he’s just shielding you from all that.”

Her words struck a chord, making you reconsider. “You really think so?”

“I do,” Ash affirmed. “And honestly, the way you talk about him… it’s obvious you love him. Maybe you should give him a chance, see where it goes.”

You nodded, even though she couldn’t see you. “Yeah… maybe you’re right.”

Ash’s reassurance lingered in your mind long after the call ended. You couldn’t help but replay your moments with Cillian—the tenderness he showed, the way he’d rushed to your side without hesitation. It was hard to believe that someone who didn’t care would go to such lengths.

Just then, a nurse entered your room, gently pulling you from your thoughts. “Good morning, mummy,” she greeted with a warm smile.

“Morning,” you replied, smiling back as you finished the last bites of your hospital breakfast.

The night had been filled with regular check-ups, the medical team carefully monitoring your baby’s heartbeat and your blood pressure. The nurse’s gentle demeanor and reassuring words helped ease some of the tension that had settled over you.

“The bleeding’s reduced significantly,” she said, checking your chart. “You and the baby are doing well.”

Relief washed over you at her words. After she left, you closed your eyes for a quick nap, but your thoughts kept swirling around the conversation with Ash and your uncertain feelings for Cillian.

A soft sound woke you, and you opened your eyes to see Cillian’s silhouette against the light filtering through the curtains. He moved quietly, not wanting to disturb you, but when he noticed you were awake, he came closer, leaning down to place a tender kiss on your lips.

“Did you sleep well?” you asked, reaching up to touch his face, your fingers tracing the worry lines that had settled there.

“Yeah,” he replied softly, his hand resting gently on yours. “I brought you a change of clothes.” He placed a suitcase on the bed, opening it to reveal your neatly packed belongings. “And lunch,” he added with a smile, handing you a bag of takeout.

The sight of the spicy chicken burrito made your heart skip a beat. Hospital food had been bland, and your cravings had been anything but satisfied. “You remembered!” you exclaimed, a genuine smile spreading across your face.

“Course I did,” he said, clearly pleased to see you happy.

As you settled into the chair by the window, the comforting aroma of the burrito filled the room. It almost felt normal—like a quiet lunch between two people, not one shared in a hospital room.

“Thanks for this,” you said, your voice full of gratitude as you took your first bite. The flavors were a welcome change.

“Just glad you’re eating,” Cillian replied, watching you closely. His eyes softened as he saw how much you were enjoying the food. “You need to keep your strength up.”

You nodded, appreciating his concern. As you ate, the conversation flowed easily, a nice distraction from the stress and fear that had dominated the past few days. You updated Cillian on what the nurse had said—they wanted to keep you in for a few more days, but everything was looking up.

But even with the light conversation, your sister’s words lingered in your mind. You found yourself wanting to address the uncertainties between you and Cillian.

After a brief pause, you decided to share. “I talked to my sister this morning,” you said, covering your mouth as you finished chewing.

Cillian raised his eyebrows, giving you his full attention. “Yeah? How’s she doing?”

“She’s good. She’s coming over to help me once I’m discharged. The doctors said I need to be on strict bed rest until the next ultrasound.”

“That’s great,” Cillian replied, nodding. “It’ll be good to have her here. I’m sure she’ll cheer you up.” He paused, then added, “But I want to help too. I can take care of you.”

You looked at him, surprised. “What do you mean?”

“The doctor said you need to be on bed rest—no moving around too much. I was thinking… maybe you could stay at mine. I can make sure you’ve got everything you need, and that you won't be alone if anything happens” he suggested, his voice sincere.

The idea touched you, but it also made you hesitate. It felt like a big step, one you weren’t sure you were ready for. plus you didn't want to burden him throughout the day if you could have your sister help you. “I don’t know… I mean, my sister’s coming, and I haven’t even met my nephew yet. He’s nearly a year old.”

Cillian nodded, understanding your hesitation. “I get that. And I’m glad your sister’s coming. But I just want you to know that I’m here too. I want to help, to be there for you and the baby.”

Your sister’s words echoed in your mind—maybe you should give him a chance. You did love him, and he had been nothing but supportive. Maybe this was the right move, not just for you, but for the baby as well.

Taking a deep breath, you looked into his eyes and smiled softly. “Okay… maybe staying with you would be a good idea.”

Cillian’s face lit up with relief and happiness. “I promise, I’ll take care of everything. You just focus on resting and getting better.”

As the days in the hospital dragged on, each one felt like a blur of repetitive tasks—watching TV, trying to catch sleep despite the discomfort of your growing belly, and spending endless hours on your phone. Your backaches had eased a bit, thanks to all the lying down, but finding a comfortable position was still a challenge. The only real highlight of the day was when Cillian arrived, bringing lunch and a much-needed distraction.

He made it a point to visit every afternoon, juggling his work and your care while arranging your prenatal appointments. Despite everything on his plate, he never let on that it was too much. His presence brought comfort, even though it made you more aware of the complicated feelings swirling inside you.

One afternoon, while you were picking at your hospital lunch, your phone buzzed. It was your mom, calling for her weekly check-in. You hesitated for a moment, knowing you couldn’t keep hiding your truth from her. When you finally answered, you decided to be more open.

“I’m in the hospital, Mom. Placenta previa,” you said, cutting straight to the point.

Her concern was immediate, and the conversation that followed was filled with both worry and relief as you reassured her that you and the baby were being closely monitored. You avoided mentioning the complications and kept the details light, just enough to keep her from panicking. When the call ended, you were emotionally drained but relieved to have been honest with her.

When Cillian arrived that evening, carrying a bag of takeout, he noticed the tension in your shoulders. “What’s wrong, love?” he asked, concern etched on his face.

“I told my mom about the hospital,” you admitted, playing with the hem of the blanket.

He nodded, understanding. “I’m glad you did. I’m sure that wasn’t easy.”

“It wasn’t,” you agreed, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “But it’s done now. They’ll be here when she’s born, at least.”

The next few days were a mix of hope and trepidation. The doctors monitored your bleeding closely, and to your relief, it finally stopped. Dr. Nelly decided it was safe for you to leave the hospital, though strict bed rest was still necessary until your next ultrasound. You were grateful to finally be heading home, but the prospect of strict bed rest weighed heavily on your mind.

As you packed your bag, anticipation and a hint of dread bubbled up. Living with Cillian was a big step, one that you weren’t sure you were fully ready for. Your relationship with him had always been intense, and the thought of being alone with him, day in and day out, felt overwhelming. You sent a quick text to your sister, letting her know that you were ready for her visit. Having her around would help ease the tension and provide a distraction from your emotions.

When the nurse came in with a wheelchair, Cillian helped you into it, his touch gentle yet firm. You couldn’t help but feel a mixture of gratitude and anxiety. The next few weeks were going to be a test—a test of your relationship, your patience, and your ability to manage the challenges ahead.

As you settled into the wheelchair, Cillian’s hand rested on your shoulder. “Ready to go home?” he asked, his voice soft.

“Yeah, I am,” you replied, forcing a smile. But inside, you couldn’t help but wonder how the relationship was going to develop once you were living together.

As you left the hospital with Cillian by your side, a mix of relief and anxiety settled over you. The realization that you’d be spending the next few weeks alone with him made your heart race—not just because of your condition, but because you didn’t trust yourself around him. The connection between you was undeniable, and every glance, every touch, seemed to ignite something within you that you knew you couldn’t act on. Dr. Nelly’s strict orders of no sex until further notice echoed in your mind, making you all the more aware of the need for restraint.

Once you were settled in the car, you quickly texted Ash. “Just got discharged. Ready for you to come to Dublin whenever you can. Could really use the company.”

You hit send before you could second-guess yourself. You needed her there, not just for the help, but to keep your mind occupied and distract you from the intense feelings Cillian stirred in you. The last thing you wanted was to complicate things further by giving into temptation, especially when your health was on the line.

tags:

@mamawiggers1980 @xsweetcatastrophe @galactict3a @thistheivyseason @cillianmurphyvevo @sweetcheesecakesblog