#i studied 26 hours this week and it's still not enough

[maenecoon]

just a lil fic i'd worked on in around august/sept... god do i miss writing >~<

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || ch 26]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 3.6k

ao3 link

Depression is a funny little emotion.

It starts as a seed planted in your stomach by some inconsequential action that slowly grows throughout the day until it is strangling you. Tendrils sprout and creep up your sternum, creeping through your airway and constricting your lungs, making it just a little harder to breathe. Your chest feels tight and no amount of closing your eyes and counting slowly will make the feeling go away. The vines go for your heart next - weaving between the arteries and veins and squeezing until you are hyper aware of every beat it makes. 

You know you cannot let anyone know what germinates inside of you, so for hours and hours and hours do you pretend you can function properly. You ignore how heavy your heart feels or how much your throat stings. You turn off the urge to cry and scream and beg because you know there is no point to it. There is no relief. No amount of comfort will free you from the jungle forming inside of you. All you can do is wait.

Wait until you are finally alone, and the growth is finally allowed to bloom in your brain. Thorns pierce you, pumping their poison into your thoughts. Sap leaks from your eyes as stems force their way up your throat until leaves sprout from your mouth. You are consumed from the inside out until you are a hollow husk of a person.

And who would want to be around that?

Who would want you?

No one is the answer.

 It has always been no one. 

Your parents were the first to show you the truth. There was no care or comfort in your childhood - you were set aside and ignored.

You’ve never blamed them for this. As much as it hurt and as much as it messed with your self-worth, you’ve always understood they were not meant to be parents. You are sure they loved you in their own way, but the lack of affection left your soul to wilt.

College was no better. You made a few friends but quickly learned the meaning of superficial. They did not have time for your awkwardness and personal issues - this was their time to grow and blossom. So, you buried yourself in your studies and were always grateful when they were kind enough to invite you somewhere. 

When you started having romantic relationships they warped your mind even more. A few sweet words would lure you in, then you would become a caretaker and a warm body. Their needs were always top priority and yours were never to be acknowledged. You were strung along to a breaking point or told you were no longer needed, even when you were still heart eyed over them.

A few rounds of this showed you your niche in the world. 

You’re a background character. A friend of a friend’s girlfriend. A one-night stand. Minnie’s mom. 

You don’t matter in the grand scheme of things. You are meant to assist others - meant to raise your daughter to her full potential. 

You’ve long accepted this, which makes it all that much harder when Matt smiles at you like he does. 

You believe he cares for you - he is full of love - but you know there isn’t anything deeper in it. 

You are the mother of his child, a child he is head over heels for - it is natural for him to grow affectionate towards you. He finds you physically and sexually attractive and you yearn for that.

But you know you are nothing but a placeholder.

You have his attention now and you want to bask in it, but next week, next year, or maybe in two years, that attention will move onto someone who deserves it. Someone who is exciting as he is - someone who is smart and passionate. Someone who understands his life and what being Daredevil entails. Someone who cares about the injustices on the streets and does something about it.

Someone who isn’t broken. 

Someone who isn’t a shell going through the motions. 

Someone who isn’t you.

You want to cover your ears and pretend you don’t know the truth. You want to bury yourself in the three little words you thought you heard, but you know you can’t. 

You can’t do that to yourself again. You can’t handle another heartbreak. Another disappointment.

Another reminder you are Nothing. 

You can allow yourself to enjoy your time - enjoy the touches and kisses and moans - but your heart must remain locked away. 

Matt can have all of you but that. If you allow yourself to have hope it will hurt all the more when you have to let him go. 

And you’ll let him go easily when that time comes. You’ll step aside without a fight because his relationship with Minnie is more important than you will ever be, and you are not going to be the reason for a rift between them. You are not going to deny Matt time with his daughter because his destiny is with someone else. 

It will hurt, but it has never mattered if you hurt.

You just want them to be happy.

----

The progress bar on your screen is finally full and you now have the option to select ‘continue with install’. You click on the button, then warily eye your laptop as new windows pop up with technical information you do not care about. 

Work is pushing a bunch of new updates through their system, and because you are remote, you have to play IT to get your machine up to spec. They sent you an email with everything you need to do, which is to sit back and click a few prompts, but they failed to mention the process would take hours and that your laptop would be useless during that time. 

It is nearing two in the morning, and you are starting to run out of steam and patience. 

Between installs and reboots, you have cleaned pretty much everything in your apartment that you could without risking waking Minnie up. You did dishes and dusted. You cleaned out the pantry and washed the windows. You even swept the carpet to get out any lingering dog hair.

You’ve tried to sit and watch something, but it left you fidgety and you couldn’t pay attention to what was being said and you had no chance in hell of following a plot. You attempted to play around on your phone, but you became angry at yourself for not having the funds to buy things that were advertised to you. After Minnie’s birthday and your hospital bill, your bank account was getting dangerously low.

You want to turn off your brain and do your job. You don’t have to Think when combing through orders and producing invoices. 

You don’t want to Think anymore. You are so tired of Thinking. 

You slump into your chair and bury your face into your hands. You’ve got no way to calculate how much longer all this technical setup is going to take or how much longer you are going to have to stay up. The only relief you have is knowing you are being paid for this time, since the email specifically told you to be on the clock while running everything. 

You debate going over to the couch and trying to nap. You could set an alarm so you can periodically check on your computer, but you might disturb your sleeping toddler. The alert could be set to vibrate only, but would that wake you up if you really fell asleep?

Your only solution is to stay awake and try to find something to do to distract yourself. 

As you start to consider deep cleaning the linen closet, your phone lights up with a call from an unsaved number. It takes but a moment for you to recognize the sequence and your heart leaps into your throat as you answer.

“Hello?”

“You’re up late,” Matt teases as a greeting, his voice a few octaves lower than normal and sending a delightful sort of chill up your spine. “Working hard?”

“Hardly working,” you groan in response, but the mere fact he is calling has your lips turning up into a small smile. “My computer is doing updates and I’m waiting for it to finish. It’s been going for hours.”

Matt hums in sympathy and you wonder if he is just getting home. The fact he is a superhero is still very hard for your mind to wrap around. Sweet Matt, who lets his daughter put star stickers all over his face, is the same man who so routinely breaks people’s arms that local ER staff have a monthly betting pool about it - a little fact you learned from Karen. The man in videos dangling someone off a high rise or a bridge is the same man who becomes a clingy octopus when asleep. 

You understand his need to protect the city and you admire it, but fear and uncertainty gather in your belly when you think about Matt out on the rooftops. You are terrified of him getting hurt, despite the fact you trust him and his abilities. You know there is always a bigger threat out there as well as the possibility of an accident. Matt may be amazing, but he can’t fight a random act of God.

Three light knocks from behind you rip your thoughts and you turn in your chair to see Daredevil, in all his red suit glory, standing on your fire escape. He cheekily waves at you as he snaps his flip phone shut and stores it in a hidden pocket. You scramble up and over to the window, yanking it open. He waits patiently, though a bit smugly by the smirk on his lips, as you figure out how to remove the screen. He climbs through with ease and once he is inside, he starts removing his gloves and helmet.

“What are you doing here?” you ask as you close the window again. You aren’t opposed to him coming by, but this is the first time he’s done so, and you aren’t exactly sure of the protocol. Is it a social visit? Does he have some Daredevil news to share with you?

Before he replies, he shakes his head much like a wet dog would. His hair is damp with sweat and the skin that was previously covered is glistening. There is a slight tint of red to his usual paleness and you wonder if he is hot to the touch as well. You try not to squirm at the thought.

“I always check on you before ending patrol,” he finally says, like it is the most obvious thing in the world. He sets his helmet, gloves, and batons on the window-blocking table, then steps to you, reaching up to cup your cheeks when close enough. “I need to make sure my girls are okay.” 

The words come out of him so easily and you want to melt into them like you do with his touch, but your mind is quick to remind you that you’ve given him reason to have to check up on you. This isn’t him being sweet - it is him making sure you haven’t somehow managed to kill yourself. 

Before you can mentally chastise yourself and pull away, Matt is closing the distance. He brings you into a sweet and slow kiss and for a few wonderful moments, your mind goes quiet. His lips are so soft against yours and you can just barely taste the salt from the sweat that has dripped down his face. It ends far too soon, and you try to tell yourself you are not disappointed.

Your thoughts kick back into hyper drive, and as you notice how damp Matt’s hair really is you imagine he would appreciate some cold water. You gently pull away from him, turning as you do to head towards the kitchen. 

“Did anything interesting happen tonight?”

“Nothing out of the usual,” he answers as he moves to follow you. “There was a kid breaking into cars that stuck out, though. He should probably be on his school’s track team if he isn’t already - he made me work to be able to catch him. It was actually a little impressive.”

That would explain the sweat then. It is already warm out and racing through the streets in leather sounds exhausting. It makes you want to shower just hearing about it.

You find Matt’s designated cup and fill it using the pitcher in the fridge. As you pass it over to him, you question, “what did you do once you caught him?”

He doesn’t answer, instead taking the water and downing it all in just a few gulps. Since it is clear he is in need of it, you quickly refill the glass.

“I gave him a warning and let him go,” Matt says after taking another sip, “He seemed like a good kid just getting into the wrong things. I think being chased by the Devil will scare him off crime, at least for a while.”

That warms your heart a little - you like Matt’s sense of justice and how he does not have a hard stance on what is black and white. He truly wants to help the community and not rule it. 

You have to turn away as he drinks his second glass of water. You want those brief moments of mental silence back and watching his throat work only makes you want to kiss him again. You think he wouldn’t mind it if you threw yourself at him, but it isn’t the time or place, and honestly you are a bit scared of the idea that has that kind of effect on you. 

It is something to crave and ask for and get addicted to. If he can turn off your brain so easily, all you will want to do is touch him.

Ever on high alert, you see Matt roll his neck and shoulders as he goes to put his glass into the sink. The movements look a little stiff and anxiety takes hold as you hyper analyze every movement he makes, “Are you alright?”

He pauses at the question, clearly confused by it. He tilts his head back and forth in minute ways like he does when he’s searching for something before answering you. 

“Why do you ask?”

You feel yourself start to flush at the counter, feeling a little silly. If there was anything actually wrong with him, he has a competent nurse on call, but you can’t stop your worry. It courses through you like your blood and you know it will fester and nag if you have any doubt. But you are still hesitant as you vaguely motion to your own neck, “I don’t know, you were out all night. I just…I want to make sure you’re, okay?”

You know that Matt is analyzing you, listening for something you’ll never hear. His lips dip into a frown for a microsecond before lifting up into that soft, beautiful smile you are becoming so fond of. “I’m fine, darling. Just a little stiff is all. It’s hard to have good posture when crouching on a rooftop.”

You take in the words, and you can easily picture Matt on the edge of a building, sitting like a gargoyle. It does ease your own tension that he isn’t injured, but your head just keeps spinning. 

Matt came all the way into Chelsea to check on you, the least you could do is make it worth his while. Offering yourself up for sex doesn’t feel appropriate at the moment, but you have more up your sleeve than just that.

The words tumble out of you before the idea is fully formed, “Do you want a massage?”

The shock on Matt’s face is nearly priceless. His brows shoot up his forehead and his mouth parts just slightly and a small voice in the back of your head wonders if anyone has ever offered him one before. You know his upbringing was as barren as yours, but given he is a fighter, you would have guessed someone would have given him one. 

Finally, he nods, his smile starting to come back, “That sounds amazing. If it’s okay with you - I know it’s getting late.”

“I’ll be up anyways,” you tell him quickly, not wanting him to think it is any inconvenience to you. “And it sounds more enjoyable than more cleaning.”

“Okay.” His boyish grin gets even bigger, and your stomach does a funny twist. “Where do you want me?”

You direct him to sit in front of the couch, on the ground, and as he removes the top half of his armor, you go to fetch wet wipes and lotion. You do not want to be rubbing Matt’s sweat all over his back - you are going to be trying to help him relax and that is a little bit disgusting. 

As you come back to the living room, you have to remind yourself you aren’t supposed to throw yourself at him. It is not fair how good he looks shirtless - he’s well defined and muscular, but not so overly buff it is gross. It’s clear his muscles are for athletics and not to show off how cool he is. His scars only emphasize that. You have no idea how he got them all, but you very much want to lay him down and run your tongue over each and every one. 

Your view changes as Matt plops himself down in front of the couch, seemingly unaware of your various mental crises. You tell yourself to Behave before your feet start moving again. When you get to the couch, you maneuver yourself to be behind Matt and have to bat away all your thoughts again at the sight of his shoulders.  

You force yourself to focus on the task in front of you. As you grab the wet wipe to start cleaning off Matt’s back, you advise him, “Let me know if I go too hard or if anything starts to hurt, okay?”

Beneath your hands, he huffs, “Darling, I don’t think you’ll be able to hurt me. If anything, the harder, the better.”

Your face heats up a little at his words. You remember he said something similar when over you on the couch just a few nights ago. He likes things a little rough. 

Once his shoulders are mostly sweat free, you get to work. 

You start with smoothing your hands down his neck, then fanning out to the edge of his shoulders and back. You aren’t exactly an expert at this, but long ago in college, one ex liked to play video games while you rubbed his shoulders and you had done your fair share of research to make sure you were doing it right. You still remember most of the tips. 

You add some of Minnie’s scent free baby lotion to your hands, then dig your thumbs into Matt’s neck. The muscles are tight and as you begin to push and pull at them, a deep, pleased groan comes from the man under you.

“Mmm, that feels so good.”

You can’t help but smile at the praise and it only encourages you to make sure the entire experience is enjoyable. 

It is surprisingly easy for you to get completely lost in the massage. You focus in on one area and mentally picture different little arrows telling you to rub up this way or swirl your thumbs in a certain motion. Matt’s shoulders quickly become a grid for you to complete and not a laborious task of trying to bond. 

Under your unskilled fingers, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen melts. Whenever you find a knot - and there are many - he grunts and sighs and you can tell he is starting to relax. The tension in his shoulders fade and you actually get to see the moment his jaw unclenches. He opens his mouth and scrunches his nose, making the apples of his cheeks plump up. You peek at the television to catch his reflection and your heart warms at the pleased look on his face.

You wonder if it would be possible to get him to fall asleep like this and decide that is a challenge for another day. Right now, you want to pamper him. 

You slowly work your fingers back up towards his neck, then decide to take a chance based on what you know he likes. 

As you reach his hairline, you tilt your fingers forward so your nails are against his skin, then begin to slowly scritch at his scalp like he’s an overgrown cat. 

The results are instantaneous. Matt pushes his head into the touch, a low guttural moan coming up from his throat. 

It is Filthy. It goes right to your core, making you clench around nothing, and you can’t stop yourself from asking in a soft, teasing voice, “Feel good?”

He hums in an affirmative, tilting his head back far enough that he needs to lean against the couch for support. You keep your fingers where they are, as it's clear he is trying to direct you to where it feels the best - the top of his head. You scritch there, smiling as you fluff up his hair even more. 

Matt looks absolutely blissed out - his eyes are closed, his lips are parted, and you are pretty sure if you keep at this, he might just turn into Jello. 

Which is exactly what you want. 

He works so hard for everyone, running himself into the ground to bring justice to Hell’s Kitchen, and you think he needs some time to just relax. 

So, you begin to plan.

As you gently drag your nails through Matt’s hair, you let your mind begin to think up ideas for a nice family spa day while your laptop and dark thoughts sit on the dining room table, forgotten about.

---

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[kriffingstars]

Johnny MacTavish; rule breaker

pairing: Johnny MacTavish x Price!Reader summary: You're practically delivered to Johnny, you can't blame a man warnings: verrrrrry slight age gap (I imagine reader to be around 20, Johnny is 26), allusions to sex ;) a/n: You guys!!! I've loved your asks SO much. Hopefully this little interaction tides you over until part two :)

Price's Niece Masterlist

You're in Edinburgh, for a conference at the university about how modern technology can assist in the renovation process of old pieces of art, the case studies being used are newly found renaissance paintings.

It's the middle of the fringe festival, so you were only able to get accommodation for the day before your conference, planning to get the 5-hour train back to London, and then the train home after it had ended.

It's sod's law when after an interesting but long day, all the trains are cancelled. Torrential rain has caused major flooding, and now you're stranded, soaking and without a way to get home.

Price isn't expecting a call from you so early, but after you explain your predicament he transfers you enough for a decent room and tells you he'll sort you out a train, or flight home in the morning.

Unfortunately, luck really isn't on your side because of course everything besides some really sketchy AirBnb is booked. You really don't want to stay there on your own. If you were with your uni friends it would be different, but it was just you who went to the conference, the rest of them more interested in curating than restoration.

Begrudgingly, you call your Uncle once again and explain what's happening. You know he's busy, he's been in meetings all day and you know he's had to step out to answer your call.

Gritted teeth, he tells you he'll sort it, and calls you back a few minutes later.

"Soap's coming to grab you, find a pub and get yourself something to eat on me. I'll give him a text to let him know where you are."

This really isn't the solution he wanted, but your safety is paramount and there's no way he's letting you sleep anywhere potentially dangerous.

The stars aligned in the most infuriating way, practically delivering you to the man he wanted you to stay away from. Soap had too much leave to use up, and so he was taking an extra week at home.

It's far from ideal, and he once again, reminds Soap that he's expecting no funny business.

"Aye Captain, best behaviour I promise." his scottish drawl mumbles through the phone as he hears am engine start.

"I'll even take the sofa."

That does nothing to ease the stress, that the two of you are inadvertently causing him.

It's gone nine by the time Johnny get's to you, the rain still hasn't let up, and he jogs, bag in hand through the front door.

"Bonnie! It's been a while," he greets as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a giant bear hug.

And it has, your communication had dropped in in the last couple of months. Both of you becoming busy, and texts that were once answered straight away lie unread.

He's warm and firm and practically engulfing you. He also smells really good.

"Jesus, you're freezing," he notes as he pulls back, cupping your hands in his as he blows on them to get the heat back into your digits.

Johnny makes it way too difficult to not like him. It's like telling you not to imagine an elephant. The more you tell yourself not to do it, the more you do.

He's kind, funny, charming and ridiculously handsome.

It's even harder when he swaps your bag for his, telling you there's some warm, dry clothes for you if you want to change before you head back to his.

In the bathroom you dig out the clothes, the t-shirt is one of his work ones, with the SAS insignia embroidered on the chest, the same one your Uncle wears. That's not what stops you in your tracks though, it's not the sweats either. It's the zip up hoodie, this one isn't army issue. It's well worn and smells absolutely divine, there's a few smells mixed in together but it's overwhelmingly him.

You lift the collar to your nose, breathing it in again and your chest flutters slightly.

Your Uncle's warnings bounce around your head as you leave the stall, and make your way back to the bar.

They also leave your head as soon as Johnny looks up at you, eyes lighting up and smile softening as he sees you dressed in his clothes. You've still got your hat on, covering your damp hair.

You Price's and your bloody hats he thinks when you get close enough again for him to tuck you into his side, as he leads you to his car.

All to warm you up though, he's simply making sure you're not going to get ill. There's definitely no other reason at all that he wants you as close as possible.

"Thank you again, I don't know what I'd have done if you weren't here to rescue me," It's not meant to be flirty, you're genuinely just relaying your gratitude.

But Johnny lives to serve, his whole life is built around that and he thinks that he'd come and rescue you wherever because the way you're looking up at him is sending him haywire.

No funny business. Yes Sir.

The hour drive back to his flat flies by. It reminds the both of you when you first met, and you don't let him forget how he properly put his foot in his mouth.

"We even look similar!" you shriek as he tries to justify why he thought that a trophy wife was the correct conclusion to come to about your identity.

"Nah, you're too pretty to look like him," Johnny doesn't think before he speaks, but he's glad he didn't this time, because when glances over at you as he checks his mirror he's greeted with you wearing his clothes, face hot, and eyes already looking at him.

It really should be illegal for him to rest his forearm on the ledge next to the window as he drives, one hand on the wheel, the other on the gearstick.

"Nearly here now," is all he says, and you hum in response.

Despite living in a new build, the flat is relatively cosy. Maybe it's just the giant 'L' shaped sofa in the corner that looks like you could sink onto and sleep for days on.

"You take the bed, I'll be just on the sofa if you need anything. Bathroom's that way, toothpaste's in the cabinet above the sink."

He was really looking after you, when he stopped for petrol he grabbed you a tooth brush and some make-up wipes, as well as a packet of your favourite sweets.

He really is making it hard, when he's so thoughtful.

Settling down for the night happens pretty quickly, he leads you into his room. Shows you where the phone charger is and grabs a pair of sweats for himself to change into.

Sinking into his sheets felt so wrong, when you thought about lying in his bed it was never like this. Usually, it involved you under him, trapped between the mattress and his frame as he pulled ungodly noises from your throat. Instead you've got a pretty thin duvet, the man you want as your blanket is sleeping soundly on his sofa.

You don't bother to check the time before leaving the confines of Johnny's bedroom, your throat dry after spending far too long thinking of what you wish he'd do to you.

Creeping as silently as possible down the hallway, you make it to the kitchen, without stirring too much noise from your gracious host.

Unfortunately, Johnny didn't tell you where he kept his glasses, it felt invasive to go rummaging but needs must.

"What you looking for, Bon" Johnny mutters, scaring the ever-loving daylights out of you.

With a shriek, you leap into the air before whirling around. If you thought your heart was beating fast, it's beating faster now because he's shirtless in front of you, sweats hanging low on his hips and he's speaking in the sexiest sleep-filled voice.

You don't even noticing him walk towards you until he's standing right there. Christ, he really is toned.

"I-eh...a glass," your garbled response makes him let out a small huff of air as a smile breaks out over his face.

And if you didn't think that you could become more of a mess, he leans even closer and reaches a hand behind your head to grab the cursed object.

Your faces are inches apart, his nose grazing yours so gently you question if it was even there. In this light, his eyes are darker than usual, and his eyelashes seem a lot thicker as his blinks begin to slow. Your gaze flutters down to his lips, and you can't help but reach up to trace the scar with your fingertips.

When your gaze reaches his eyes again, you're already ruined. He's looking directly at your lips, tongue darting out as he swipes at his.

It's you who makes the first move, capturing him in a searing kiss. The flutters in your stomach have moved their way up to your eardrums, where they pound to be let out.

The kiss is all-consuming, your arms wrap around his neck finding anchor in the hair at the base of his neck. His arms have you pinned in, one snaking around your waist and finding refuge on the small of your back, pulling you closer and the other tenderly cupping your cheek.

"We shouldn't," he whispers breaking the kiss, but instead of backing away like you thought you would he dives in again. More passionate and with more tongue this time, teeth catching the bottom of your lip.

"I promised your old man I wouldn't," once again he pulls away, cupping your face, as leaves open mouth kisses down your neck, stopping to nip at your pulse point, before soothing it with his tongue.

"Johnny," you breathe, chest heaving. He lets out a growl against your throat which sends vibrations all the way south.

"He doesn't have to know."

[jillsandwhichs]

Our Future Day's

Joel Miller x Reader series , Chap 1 , Move in day

Masterlist

Pairing: Fem!reader x Joel Miller

Summary: You officially move from oregan to texas and get to meet your very new & handsome neighbor, Joel

WC: 3.1k

Type: SFW

Some thing's you need to know before reading: this is a series, not a one shot collection! you (the reader) already have a semi premade backstory. first off, you're originally from oregon. you studied at med school and got a job offer in texas to become a doctor, which you took. you are 23 in this but if you don't like that, imagine any age (18+) and i did make joel younger 26 (until the 20 year time jump, he'll be 46) but he does still have sarah, just pretend it's not wonky LMAO! one more thing, ya have a dog in this fic, he's a boy but imagine any breed you'd like! aside from that, this is tlou game version but i included some sides from the show! a couple more things: 1. all characters from tlou1/2 will be mentioned/featured. 2. this takes place before outbreak, then eventually outbreak day, then eventually in the apocalypse. 3. this is a slow burn romance (drabbles of it in each chapter though, esp when it progresses) and does feature a decent amount of smut. 4. JOEL NEVER DIES!!!

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Thank you

Tapping your fingers on the steering wheel, you matched the beat of the song playing on your cars radio. It was a song by Blake Shelton. You weren't a huge fan of him but he had some classics. It has been such a long day for you. You've been driving for the past two hours, not a single break in between. You just wanted to get to your new home as soon as you could. You could tell your dog, Becker, needed to go potty as well. He'd just have to hold out.

The GPS on your phone stated you were only about ten minutes away. The center of Austin TX was busy as all hell, so that time span could get longer by the second. So many cars & people flooded the streets. "God dammit." You mumbled to yourself, rolling your eyes as you seen all the upcoming traffic ahead. This was going to be a long night. You had no clue when you'd even be able to get into bed. Then again, it was only 4:30 in the afternoon, almost evening.

Behind you, in the backseat, you could hear Becker whimpering & whining. "Don't worry boy, we're almost home, just a little bit longer." You cooed to him, reaching your right hand back and allowing him to lick you. You got Becker as a graduation gift a few weeks ago. You two have bonded ever since. You were never a cat person, dog's were more of your style. "You'll be able to go potty soon." You said to him, pulling your hand back up and holding onto the wheel.

Traffic wasn't going as slow as you intended, was traffic always going to be like this though? This ain't going to be pleasant if so. Especially working for the hospital. Imagine an emergency happens and you're needed but the roads are packed, that's going to be one helluva time. But, you wanna think positively. You missed your family too. It's going to be hard without them, especially your mom. She is your number one supporter and without her in the same home as you, it'll be a large change.

You turned the radio up, hearing the country music blast throughout your car but not loud enough to scare your dog. Dogs ears are sensitive and you didn't wanna bother him further than he already was. No doggo wants to be stuck in a car all day, especially in this heat. Despite it being early September, it was still quite warm out. That's another big change from Oregon, you imagine that back home, it's either really windy or heavily raining. The change could be nice though.

The sound of Becker panting was clear as day, it only made you feel more guilty. "Hold on baby." You muttered to him before you then rolled your window down and the window directly behind you, not a lot though, you didn't want him to jump out or something. Through your rearview mirror, you could see his slobbery tounge blowing in the wind as he stuck his head out the window. "Hah, good boy!" You giggled, turning left onto the exit, finally getting off of this miserable highway.

Finally, the road wasn't full anymore. It was a downtown rural area now, cars slowly made their way through the town. Austin is busy, yes, but this side of it, not so much. The only logical reason it was super busy on the highway and earlier roads was because people are getting/going to work. Your first day at the hospital is on Monday. You were nervous but in a great way. You have been non stop thinking about it. All of the work you've put in and you're officially where you wanted to be. Life was going good... For once...

You passed by all sorts of different places. Gas stations, fast food chains, locally owned stores & stands, it felt so honey. Back in Oregon, you lived in the center of the city, it was always so lively and never calm. Austin is like that too but not as bad, and definitely not as bad as Dallas is. You were grateful you didn't end up moving there or even somewhere that was worse. Austin was a good enough fit for you.

The GPS showed you were only a minute or two away from home, your heart was racing a bit. You've never been on your own before and you least expected it to be in a completely different state. Luckily, a week from now, you'll be going back home for the weekend. It'll be comforting. You'll definitely make sure to call your family everyday, you made sure they knew that too. They'd have to simply put up with it.

You could tell you were getting closer due to the change in scenery. There weren't any establishments around these parts, just either compact or extensive suburban homes. You actually used to make fun of those perfect American families who lived in these types of areas but look at you now. Back home, you lived in a small house, only two bedrooms but you were an only child so it was never a problem. You did wish for siblings growing up but you understand now that if you had some, things would be a whole lot different.

As you turned left, the tracker built into your phone made a dinging noise, indicating you had arrived at your destination. It wasn't wrong. Just to the left, you could see your newly purchased home. It made your heart skip a beat. Not only were you nervous but you were also so happy. You glimmered as you pulled right into the driveway and set your car in park. You could tell Becker knew this was your guy's new home, his whimpers weren't ones of boredness but rather excitement. "One second." You sighed out before getting out of the car.

Stepping out of your car, you sighed softly as you breathed in the fresh air. The smell of outside was always so welcoming. You grabbed your purse out of your car too and swung it across your shoulder. It was a brown leather purse with an embroidered strap. You then opened up the backseat so Becker could jump on out. "Stay over here buddy." You chuckled out, scratching the top of his head a few times before closing both doors. You had quite a bit of stuff in your trunk & backseat but you hired a truck to drive all of your other belongings here. It wouldn't be there for another day or so.

Becker ran off to the side of the house to go potty ; You trusted him enough to not run off. He was a good dog. You went to the back of your car and popped open your trunk. It was a mess but everything you needed for the night was in there. You even bought an air mattress, your back would die trying to sleep on a wooden floor. You grabbed the first two boxes, they weren't very big, and set them on the concrete of your driveway. They just had toiletries in them.

You grabbed out another box, this one was a bit bigger than the other two. It had all of your kitchen appliances in it. You were excited to cook your very first dinner in your very own home. You already decided on making Pesto Pasta, one of your favorites. In your trunk, there was the air mattress box. It wasn't going to be the best way to sleep but it'd have to suffice for the night, your proper bed should be in either tomorrow or on Sunday.

Whilst grabbing out the air mattress, you heard the sound of a truck driving past and pulling into the driveway across from you. They must've been your neighbors. Your neighbors back home weren't the nicest. There were the Johnson's so were beyond uppity and thought they were better than everyone else, they lived beside you. Then there was Cassandra and Cody, they were your age and pretty kind except they were literal kleptos.

You ignored the truck behind you, just trying to get everything you needed for the night. You could hear Becker barking but you didn't know what it was he was doing it at. You figured a wild animal, maybe a bunny or a stray. Becker was actually from a shelter, you'd never buy an animal from PetSmart or whatever. "Becker, quit your barking!" You shouted at him, nudging him to come over to you. Maybe he wasn't good with new environments.

You placed the last cardboard box from your trunk on top of another one, shooting your eyes to look at Becker. He was looking at the truck across the street, barking at it. "Oh boy, quit it." You spoke out to him but he didn't listen. You went to grab onto his collar but right as you did, he bolted off into their driveway. He was a friendly dog, you didn't think he'd do anything bad, he was just inquisitive, but it was still bad of him to run off like that.

"Becker!" You yelled, jogging across the street to grab him. You watched as two men got out of the black truck. The one in the driver's seat had a mullet and lighter hair than the other man, he also seemed shorter. The other one though had short dark hair, although you couldn't tell if it was purely brown or black. He was well built, along with the other man. Were they brothers? That's the only assumption that came to mind.

Once you reached their driveway, you grabbed Becker and pulled him back to you. The man getting out of the passenger seat looked back at you and had a puzzled look before letting out a chuckle beneath his breath. "Listen, I'm so sorry, he's just curious." You sighed out. Becker was now listening as he sat down right by your feet. "Sorry, we'll be out of your hair." You giggled, beginning to turn around before you heard the man's voice speak up.

"You just move in across the street?" He asked you, his voice sounded southern and it was very deep. "Oh uhm, yeah, just got here tonight actually." You said kindly, looking back at him again. "Well, welcome then, and to your dog." He snickered out. "I'm Joel, this is Tommy." Joel spoke deeply, pointing over at the other man. You let the two men know your name before asking them whether or not they were brothers, and they were. You weren't surprised, they did share similar facial features.

"Where are you from?" Joel raised, his arms crossed. His arms were huge, he definitely has a nice body. "I'm from Oregon." You said softly, placing your slender hands onto your waist. "Damn, that's a long ways out. What made you move all the way here?" "Got a job offer at the hospital." You said with a titter, his accent was thick. "Oh, you a nurse or something?" He questioned, leaning up against his truck. "No, a doctor. Recently gradated from medschool." You explained, glancing over at his brother as he walked into the house. Maybe they lived together.

"Well how bout that? I'm just a contractor." "That's nice." You added, tucking strands of your thin hair behind your ear. "Yeah, yeah, well I'll let you continue settling in. If you need any help with uh larger furniture, me and my brother can stop by, we helped the Adler's when they first moved in." Joel said with a deep voice, pointing his index to the home beside his. "That would be great, thanks, luckily I don't have to deal with the bullshit of larger furniture today, it'll be in either tomorrow or Sunday."

"Alrighty, well, you have yourself a good evening. See you." Joel said with a sly smirk, slowly inching backwards. "You too, Joel." You gave him a slight smile before patting Becker to follow behind you. You made your way across the street, allowing Becker to run around in his new yard. You took a gander back and seen Joel looked back at you before entering his home. When you saw his eyes on you, you felt a deep pit in your stomach. Nothing bad, rather just glee or something. You couldn't pin it.

Around your neck was a lanyard, it had the key to your home, you assumed it was locked. At least you hoped, you don't want any squatters inside. You unlocked the white door and opened it, stepping inside of it. The sunset beamed in through the windows throughout the house. It was still dark though, every single light was switched on. The seller said you'd have to go to the basement to switch them all on. That sounded like a fun time!

One by one, you dragged each box into the home, keeping some on the floor and placing some on the island counter. You didn't plan on unpacking any of it tonight, you were restless and just wanted to lay down for the night, despite it only being 5 PM. The more sleep you get, the easier it'll be tomorrow. You definitely had to get a lot of sleep Sunday considering on Monday, you start your first day. Even though it's just training, you wanna be as awake as possible.

You ambled towards the front door again and away from the kitchen to call Becker in. He'd have to deal with the floor for the night. He is a cuddly dog, he loves big comfy areas but without a bed or a couch, there's no way. "Becker!" You said with a rowdy voice, "C'mon baby." He came running over to you and past your legs, going into the house and treading around like a mad man. "Oh good boy." You chuckled, petting him gently.

You walked back over to the kitchen and grabbed the air mattress, you needed to get it open and blown up. It was sealed to a T, your nails were definitely not enough to get it open. Striding towards the appliances box, you opened it up and searched through it, taking out a knife to slice it open. You are quite clumsy so you were praying you wouldn't stab the mattress on accident. It didn't help that Becker felt the need to push himself up against you, seeking attention & love as if he's starved from it.

"Back off boy." You snorted, pulling the mattress out of it's box. It was all wrinkled up and looked compact. Although it was the size of a Full. You straightened it out on the living room floor, you didn't feel like carrying it all the way up the stairs. It came with a machine to blow it up and you connected it to the black cylinder hole, turning it on and hearing the loud blowing noise it was making. You didn't have any pillows, they were all packed up in that truck but luckily, you had a blanket, it was the one you let Becker use in the backseat when you were driving.

"You stay here mister." You stated out to Becker before beginning to make your way out of the front door to take the blanket out from the car. As you went outside, you noticed a bright light was on in Joel's house, just in one room though. You could also see the shadow of a smaller person's body walking through said room. Did he have a girlfriend? Or did Tommy have one? Maybe it was Tommy's. You convinced yourself of that at least.

After grabbing the blanket, you walked back inside and seen Becker already making himself a spot on the bed, despite it barley being inflated. "You little shit." You grinned, tossing the fuzzy blanket on top of him. Guess you were going to have to share.

The bed was officially ready to be slept on, you haven't been this excited to sleep in a very long time. Back home, you dreaded it. You would stay up all night, doing different stuff. Whether it was studying, painting, reading, working out, etc.. You were always doing something new. With Becker, it's been better. You're an affectionate person and he is as a dog. It may be a rough night, it always is sleeping somewhere new, but with him it may be easier.

Pulling the machine away from the bed, you turned it off and climbed underneath the blanket, feeling immediate warmth. The Texas heat also played a part in that. Back in Oregon, you had a heater beside your bed to help, you definitely didn't need one here. "Alright." You whispered to yourself, Becker lying right beside your feet, his fur was cozy. You were originally going to turn the lights on to your home but honestly, you were scared to go down there all alone, a pitch black basement? No thanks.

Trying to sleep in a new area was hard. You felt homesick. You miss your old room, the house noises, the feeling of it. You lived there your entire life, now you're thousands of miles away. Becker probably felt that way too, especially with how he connected with your father, they bonded. A week from now though, you'd be able to see them. It'd be easier. Another thing you couldn't stop thinking about was that man - Joel.

He seemed so different. He was kind & understanding, and that's just simply based on the short conversation the two of you had together. He was so willing to help you out, no one else was like that. It was a sweet welcoming. He was also very handsome. All the men back home weren't like that. That glimmer in his eyes wasn't something to ignore. It was the way he gazed at you that had you wrapped around the thought of him.

That brother of his was good looking too, definitely not as much, but either way. Were they both contractors? It appeared as though they had just left work so maybe they work together. And who was that smaller person walking throughout his house earlier? Had to be a girlfriend. A daughter? No way, the two of them looked to young to even have children. There was still a chance though, teen pregnancies aren't uncommon. You presume you'll deal with a lot of them as a Doctor.

Your eyes felt more & more heavy. Becker's deep breathing made you weary too. The pitch blackness of the room was helpful ; White sound would've been helpful too. Sleeping in complete silence was torture. All you could really hear was your dog and your own breathing. You were completely spent for the day. And you were ready to hit the hay.

Divider Creds: animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[that1fangirrl]

okay i wrote a little sumn sumn with no editing, just thoughts... it's not finished but I figured I'd put something out...if you want me to write some more for this and fix it up, lemme know cause i love writing for college!matty 😩Inbox always opened, so feel free. also it's pretty smutty so umm minors get out.

LAST WARNING... IM DEADASS!!!

“11:26 am”, you had been studying for almost two hours now. Foggy and your friend, Lizzie were off in their own world, abandoning any thoughts of you or Matt. The two of them spent every study session, giggling and flirting. Sure, you weren’t a law student and didn’t have to tag along, but Lizzie always invited you. Something about “being with people your age makes you more social”. But really she just wanted an excuse to be around Foggy even more. It wasn’t completely terrible. You weren’t completely alone. Foggy’s roommate, Matt, was always there. A slight grimace on his face like he could see what was happening from across the room, then somehow shaking it off and turning back to his books. You, being the top of your classes left you with not much to study. 

Today was no different. Matt was reading his notes in disgust and the lovebirds were already packing up their bags to go back to Lizzie’s. The two of them stood up, rushing out a quick “we’re just gonna go pick up some food. See you guys in a bit” and running out the room. Foggy wasn’t even trying to hide the boner in pants at this point. You looked down at your watch then at Matt. His shades met your gaze. “How many days do you think it’ll take for them to realize we know they’re fucking?” You giggled a little, fixing your glasses. “Who knows? I told Liz, I didn’t care. But she insists they haven’t done anything yet.” Your eyes roll. You stand up closing your book, walking over to Matt’s bed. He does the same, sitting up and pushing his notes over. His arms stretch out as you reach him and straddle his lap. Your lips connect with soft moans following behind. 

“Enough about them. What about us? Two months and they’ve hardly noticed we’ve been fucking.” You sigh into Matt’s mouth. A soft questioning look on your face. “We are? Man, I just thought we were studying anatomy.” His hands reach up to your blouse, unopening the three buttons at the top. His hands squeeze down on your breasts, face settling nose first in the valley of them. He takes a deep breath, before looking back up with a dopey smile. “Well then, I must be amazing at anatomy. My favorite body part is this one.” His hands reach down towards your ass. A loud sigh leaves your lips. “I guess that would make this one… mine.” You reach into his sweats and palm his cock. “Mmmhh. It’s definitely yours Angel.”

The two of you hadn’t done nearly as much as the previously mentioned couple. Mostly, just grinding, making out and the occasional giving and receiving of head. The first time it happened shocked you both. Matt had been late for one of the study sessions. You were the only one there, not wanting to ruin your groove after Foggy and Liz left. Matt looked like he ran a marathon. Sweat dripping all over ,chest still heaving, sweats hugging the right places and hair all over the place. Apparently, after failing one of his tests, he went out to the gym to “punch out his feelings”. You tried your best to stay focused on helping him, but he looked so fucking hot. Unbeknownst to you, Matt was catching onto the shift in you. He had never smelled something so sweet. When you went in for a comforting hug, he let slip that he was still a bit pent up. So being the good friend you were, you slid down to your knees and offered to help him “relax”. 

Ever since then, you guys continued to relax together. Matt was a huge tease. Especially during the last few study sessions. Just last week, your covers were almost blown. Foggy had come back and found you and Matt cuddled up next to each other on Matt’s bed. If he weren’t so oblivious, he probably would’ve noticed how your legs were wide open and splayed on Matt’s lap with his hand moving at the slowest pace on the planet. You thought he had finally figured it out, when your head fell forward and you let out a small squeal. Matt, being quick on his toes, said he had accidentally grazed a spot where you were known to be quick ticklish. After Foggy finished whatever it was he was up to, Matt went right back to finger fucking you under the covers. Let’s just say the laundry attendant was pretty confused seeing Matt again for the second time in two days. 

Back to now, you both were breathing in each other. Hands everywhere. Rediscovering places you had been before. You both were so caught up with each other, that you hadn’t even heard the door opening. A loud gasp sounded from the doorframe. Following it was an even louder, “WHAT. THE. FUCK?!” Your head whipped around hard enough to give whiplash. Both Lizzie and Foggy were standing shocked with pizza and drinks in hand. The four of you continued to stare before Lizzie squealed out, “I. Knew it!! I knew they were fucking Foggy. 25 bucks, right now.” You blinked at her, “you bet on us? How’d you know?” “We share a wall. I could hear buzzing and a particular name being mentioned more than a few times.” You blushed, tucking away into Matt’s arms as he chuckled. “Don’t laugh. I’m sure Foggy hears you sometimes…right Fog?” Foggy and Matt laughed loudly. “Puh-lease. I snore so loud, a bomb could go off and I’d still be asleep.”

Sooooo. Should I write some more for this or noooo???

[littlebitsmile]

in flames [C.L.] | Chapter III

Welcome back! This took me a bit longer than usual, but it's still Sunday, so I'm glad you decided to join me (: Hope you all had a nice first week of 2024 - only 55 more days until we see our munchkins driving in circles again - hope this makes the wait a bit shorter.

As always, have fun (:

story: in flames driver: Charles Leclerc [C.L.] trope: #haterstolovers summary: Always working three times as hard as everyone else, Emma does not intend to blow her chance of driving among the best of the best in her very first season in Formula 1. Concentrating on first and foremost getting ahead of her brother, she does not even notice that there are some people even in her own team who think she does not deserve this spot and would rather see her fail. And one driver in particular seems to have a need of always reminding her of that.

────ʚ C H A P T E R III ɞ────

Music booms from the headphones in my ear, my feet float over the treadmill, drops of sweat run down the sides of my face. Next to me, all I can hear is Max's heavy breathing and the occasional quiet "f*ck" as another intensive interval approaches. My calves gave up the ghost ten minutes ago and have been cramping ever since, but my pride won't let me stop.

I actually wanted to squeeze in an extra training session this morning before Max woke up and wanted to hang out and do some off-season stuff, but unfortunately, he was already at the coffee machine when I decided to roll out of bed. He then followed me into the fitness room of his apartment without any comment.

He has been kind enough to let me stay with him, Kelly, and Penelope for a few years now so that I can avoid living with our parents and even worse, letting them decide what happens next with my accommodation situation. As the eldest son, he has probably had his experiences and learned his lessons, always being the one to take the blows, and although he always pretends to give me a hard time, I'm sure that deep down he doesn't want me to go through the same hell he did. The fact that I can never come close to his golden boy in our father's eyes anyway is a different story.

I breathe heavily but try to concentrate on the view. Monaco's harbor landscape is one of the most beautiful I have ever experienced. A little too much lifestyle of the rich and famous for my liking, but Max loved it here right from the start, when we first visited a few years ago. Maybe because he can live right next to the racetrack, waking up every morning and sipping his breakfast coffee with his brain already imagining those cars on the streets right in front of him.

"You're quiet," he presses out between his lips at some point. I don't look at him but concentrate on a small yacht that is about to leave the outer jetties. He gets a kick out of seeing me suffer, I’m sure of it. If I don’t let myself get distracted by the pain in my legs, I can do a few more minutes on this torture device.

"I'm dying," I reply, trying not to fall down at the same time. My diaphragm starts to painfully remind me that I'm not my 26-year-old racing brother, who has been doing this for years and years, never losing sight of his goals, exceeding his limits.

He reduces the speed on his treadmill and starts to jog slowly before continuing: "When are you flying to England? For simulator runs and so on?"

I'm still running at the same pace as before. I try to show February 15 with my hands, holding all of my ten fingers up, then five and the peace sign as a two, but I'm not sure if he immediately understands what I mean.

In the time between the end of the season and the first pre-season tests, the world stands still in my head. I enjoy visiting friends for once and not feeling bad when I see photos in our group chats of everyone getting together and me missing. Max, on the other hand, never leaves his zone - his racing set up in his study glows for hours every day. When he's not training, eating, or sleeping, he lives and breathes motorsport, whether it’s on or off track. Maybe that's why he's such an exceptional talent. Or maybe he is just stupid, for not living his life during his prime time and will fall into a pit of self-despair when he’s 40.

"Excited?" he interrupts my thoughts. I can’t remember what we were talking about, and he notices. “For the UK, I mean? Rain and cloudy weather?”

I nod. My lungs are burning, and I don't know who exactly I'm trying to prove something to. I keep running, my thighs are starting to burn like hell. A few of my fingertips go numb, and my head starts to feel dizzy. There are a few black dots here and there, but it isn’t the first time something like this happens and it won’t be the last.

"What number are you going to start with?" Max asks. I shrug my shoulders, not wanting to give too much away about whether I'll keep my number from Formula 2 or change it. Mostly because I haven’t thought about it and I would love to have a number with a deeper meaning.

"You could take 69."

When he says this, I almost stumble on the treadmill. I hold on left and right and hop onto the side edges as the mechanical noise belt continues to run beneath me. Although everything inside me hurts like hell after the last hour and a half of running, I must laugh out loud. Max grins sheepishly at me. Sometimes I am not sure who of us is the older sibling.

"I think that would be more your thing, don't you?" Out of breath, I put my hands on my hips and lean my upper body against the treadmill display. I try to calm my heartbeat, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth.

"I've already got the 1; that's enough for me..."

“You won’t have it forever, though," I interrupt him before he falls into another monologue of self-congratulation. I wiggle my eyebrows and grin mischievously at him. Then I stick my tongue out at him, and he rolls his eyes before hitting me on the shoulder with his fist.

"The only one I'm afraid of is you,” he admits openly. I look at him in disbelief. Where has this recognition suddenly come from? I almost choke on the sip of water I’m taking. “But you're in the wrong car anyway, so at least I don't have much to fear this season.”

"I don't need your false assumptions, Max. We've never lied to each other." I look into the distance, back to the harbor. I wonder what my life would be like if I wasn't the person I am.

"I'm not lying, I promise. I'm more afraid that this team will take you down with them."

"Aston Martin won't drag me into the abyss. They're giving me a fair chance."

"You would have had a fair chance with me and Red Bull."

"Fair, Max? Really? As number two? How well did that turn out with the last team partners? Lewis and Nico? Lewis and Valtteri? You and pretty much everyone who came after Sebastian? The only off-track friends who were in the same team and still get on well are Carlos and Lando. I don't want that for us." Now I turn to him. A furrow forms between his eyebrows, and he looks down at the ground. He knows I am right, and I think that causes him greater pain than what I just said about us not being able to be proper teammates.

"If you don't perform at Aston Martin, if you even get the chance to show what you are capable of in that sh*tbox of a car, then no other team will take you. There is only one chance to be part of this grid, and I just can’t believe you would rather not drive at all than have me as your team partner?" He is frustrated, I can feel it in his voice. So I try to soften my voice and understand him from his point of view.

"Max, I love you; I really do. You're the coolest brother in the world, and I'm not saying that because I get to live in your cool penthouse in the middle of Monaco.” There is a chuckle, and I know he wants to reassure me that he loves to have me here with him. But before he can speak another word, I continue. “But I've been compared to you my whole life and I will continue to be. This hasn’t been easy, for any of us. But for a change, I can decide for myself whether to confront it or if I just leave my phone off and not read the news, because no one in my own team will compare me to you." The conversation has taken on a serious tone, but I know he understands what I mean.

"I get it. I still would have liked you to be the wing woman. Pretty sure we’d be great. With you keeping all those madmen away from me." He winks. Then he looks straight ahead towards the panoramic window. It's quiet between us for a while.

I think back to his first victory with Red Bull. How he threw himself into the arms of his team afterward, so proud and so full of emotion, as if someone was finally accepting him for who he is, no ifs, ands, or buts. He doesn't talk much about his relationship with Christian Horner, but I'm 90% sure that Christian is in many ways the father figure for Max that our father could never be for him. How he has grown with this team and gone from a really misunderstood driver to a three-time world champion. He wouldn't leave Red Bull until they cut him out from inside with a digger and chainsaw and shipped him to the other side of the world. He lives, breathes, and burns for this sport and for the people in his immediate surroundings, a quality that I greatly admire in him and that not everyone is able to appreciate.

"If you could be someone else or do something else, what would it be?" The question catches him off guard. He is confused for a moment, then looks thoughtful and shakes his head.

"I don't think I want to be – can be - anywhere else. This is where I belong."

I believe him. But suddenly I'm not so sure if my answer would be the same.

As the plane lands in London, I grab my backpack, put on my cap, and hide my face a little better. I'm almost certain that some paparazzi is waiting for me in the arrivals hall because I seem to be the only one from the F1 paddock not traveling by a private jet. I wonder why.

I quickly get through security and baggage claim, so it feels like no more than 30 minutes before I step through the airport doors and out into rainy UK weather. To my right, an elderly gentleman with a sign saying "Emma V." walks towards me and takes my luggage. I thank him, get in the car, and then we make our way to the Aston Martin headquarters. I fall asleep unplanned and only wake up when we arrive.

I am overwhelmed by the polished floors, the glass structures of the building, how everything looks as if this is not the headquarters of a Formula 1 team but of Iron Man and the Avengers.

Mike Krack, the team principal, comes to meet me, shakes my hand, and welcomes me to the hallowed halls. I'm then given a tour, starting with the departments I'm least interested in, such as budget and logistics. I know these people are as important as anyone else, but I am a driver, so the technical departments will be my home base.

"But you're certainly not here to look at the view. You want to go to the simulators, right?" Mike states correctly at some point. I nod vigorously. "Then that's our next destination."

And no matter what I was expecting, it wasn’t that. As I step into a room with a screen as big as the panoramic view back at Max’s apartment, I immediately want to leap into the seat in front of it. I wait for a nod of approval from Mike before I hop into it and feel the leather beneath my hands and notice the smell of something new. I shriek. If this is a dream, I never want to wake up. And before someone can stop me, I’m already turning the machine on and getting ready to drive my first laps in the simulator.

────ʚ [Masterlist] [Chapter II] [Chapter IV] ɞ────

[ramblingsfromthytruly]

getting shit together~

day 1/50 productivity challenge

26/august/2024 - monday

no school today so yay! i don't really have anything urgent to "catch up" on but i've fallen severely behind on my own study plan. considering i don't go to any extra tuition/coaching, i need to be disciplined in my time management and hold myself accountable to the reasonable plans i made for myself. i'm not in too deep though so all i need to do now is get back on track.

🕒 10:00 a.m.

morning skincare

extended duolingo streak

cleaned out email + photo gallery

practiced playing keyboard

enough is enough with my procrastination towards studying. i mean i even watch study motivation videos on youtube instead of studying! so i just made a cup of coffee and dived straight into work.

studied psychology ch-1: what is psychology?

something to say: the ncert psychology textbook is actual nonsense. thank god for my teacher, he actually explains each concept mentioned in the textbook and so much more. if it wasn't for his classes, i don't think i would have understood literally anything in the textbook. the fact that he's most probably leaving next year is kinda making me anxious because what if the next teacher is absolute shit. this is a subject that involves lots of theory and long lectures. my current teacher is very animated in his discussions and he also involves us students too. it's never a boring class. but if the next teacher is boring i will literally start hating the class, and i don't want that to happen considering i love this subject and am actually planning on pursuing it in the future.

also akjsdfhkjashgdjkg sigmund freud, that man, istg, is gonna haunt me for the rest of my life.

it really grates on my skin if my room is dusty. and that easy annoyance combined with being a maximalist who loves trinkets is not a good combination. the universe decided to make me a walking contradiction, in many areas of my life. i make it a thing to clean my room at least once every week.

cleaned my room

did a workout video (when the workout leaves you sore>>>)

i like to do the dusty and sweaty work before taking bath so that i feel clean for the rest of the day. also thank fuck my periods ended yesterday, i hate them so much ugh i never even want to be pregnant.

took bath

prepared for seminar for psychology

basically us students have to learn the 6th chapter and "teach" it to the teacher. since we're only 3 students, our teacher told us to divide the topics amongst ourselves. we're supposed to start tomorrow but my topic is probably not tomorrow since i'm doing the second part of three. i still want to start preparing. presentations always make me nervous but i know that if i'm prepared i don't do bad at all.

night skincare

🕒 12:30 a.m.

will probably get around 6 hours of sleep.

also, random warning/tip but don't trust the ai generated summary of answers that comes up first when you search anything on google. it just uses whatever phrases it can to make a coherent set of statements. but a lot of the time, it doesn't summarize correctly at all. click on the results of a legit website to at least quickly cross-check. do not take info solely from the ai tool.

[nicnacsnonsense]

💖👀✨

For the fic writer meme

💖 What made you start writing?

Short answer: I was desperate for more Princess Tutu content.

Very long answer:

It is early July of 2010. I am at college, taking the Intro to Bio class during a summer session because the stupid class kept getting full up before my sign up window during the normal school year. I am feeling pretty down at the time -- that undiagnosed, unmedicated ADHD low key depressive funk. I was also watching a lot of anime at the time and decided to check out Princess Tutu, which looked like a sweet and fun pick me up.

By the end of the first episode, my mood had lifted. By the end of the series (26 episodes total) my entire brain chemistry had been altered. Princess Tutu was my new favorite show of all time (in some ways it still is). I rewatched it numerous times. I showed it to as many people as I could get to stay sitting after I told them it was called Princess Tutu. I bought the DVD box set for myself and watched all the special features.

Christmas break of 2010 I was home and rewatched the show once again. But it wasn't enough. I needed more. I could feel myself falling back into that funk. I went to the TvTropes page for Princess Tutu and clicked on the one tab I hadn't looked at: Fanfic Recs. I didn't read fanfic at the time, hadn't really ever before, and had the vague notion of it being kind of an embarrassing thing, but I needed more Princess Tutu.

One of the recommendations was The Heart of Everything by gemkazoni. I stayed up until 4am reading that fic (it is 84k long). Once again my brain chemistry was changed. I reread it only a couple days later and then created an FFN account expressly for the purposes of leaving a review on that fic (I didn't know guest reviews were a thing). And so of course after a stellar introduction like that I continued to read more and more fanfic.

Exactly 2 weeks later I was in the shower when the idea for a character study popped into my head. I kept running through the words over and over in my head until I decided I had to write them down and of course once I wrote them down I had to post it. It got 7 hits in the first hour which felt like the most exciting thing that had ever happened. And the rest is history.

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

I've not been in a very writerly headspace lately I confess. I've had a lot of ideas for AUs, but haven't really sat down to write anything in a while. One thing that I would like to do is circle back to the OFMD Galavant AU to write a couple more scenes so it ends on a happy place for them and then I can post it as a sort of time skip/snippet collection even if I don't write a full AU for it.

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

I'm really good at writing in character and giving a strong sense of the POV character due to a special technique (it's not a technique, my brain is just weird this way) that I like to call "method writing."

[threebooksoneplot]

Episode 16: "Dates and Dateline" (Show Notes)

listen along here

Content warnings for discussion of suicide (33:10 — 36:17) and pedophilia/murder (1:21:21 — 1:27:45)

[00:01:39] The Tumblr Q&A for Life and Death in which Stephenie Meyer admits to trying to name Carine "Carlyle"

[00:02:20] It's "levi-OH-sa," not "levio-SAH"

I'm so sorry for 2023 harry potter reference but cmon

[00:04:58] G was not kidding about South Park being "a weird little Wild West town with like, cutouts of Cartman"

[00:05:38] Info on the South Park episode "Tweek x Craig," in which said characters get together

[00:06:13] Chatzy, apparently still going strong

[00:06:35] The Urban Dictionary entry for TwiMDB

[00:08:50] The CW's Nancy Drew (2019)

[00:12:41] Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight saga playlists

[00:14:47] The MTV article about Mitch Hansen + the band's Spotify

[00:15:28] The "Twilight Hour" album

[00:16:44] Jacob Black.mp3

[00:17:32] A World Without You.mp3

[00:17:59] Thorns.mp3

[00:18:12] I Don't Know.mp3

[00:18:42] She is Brighter.mp3

[00:19:09] Shannon's Twilight SAT book

[00:19:21] Nabokov’s Favorite Word is Mauve, the book that contains the “statistical analysis of Stephenie Meyer's word choice in the Twilight books” G is talking about (a recommended read!)

[00:20:28] The Bella Cullen Project

[00:21:44] Snag the download for Shannon’s "Then and Now (Alice’s Lullaby)" song here after you donate to the Quileute tribe's Move to Higher Ground fundraiser! (Don't forget to take a screenshot.)

[00:22:32] The "Edward playing music for Bella" meme

[00:23:46] Filk

[00:26:32] Shannon’s summary:

On a scale from 1-10, how weird is to hear all about your brand new girlfriend’s mom’s suicide attempts? Just asking for a friend. Beau might only be on Date #3 if we’re counting the sexy ravioli date, but he’s unlocking the first of much family trauma during this trip to the Cullen household. There’s ugly carpets, old paintings, and books and music galore! Beau is rolling with the punches in today’s chapter, and by punches I mean “tackles” because when Edythe tries to scare him, he just gets turned on about it. They make fun baseball plans with Archie and Jessamine, and if you’re quiet enough you can just barely hear Supermassive Black Hole playing in the distance. Things only get more exciting from here and I can’t wait to see the mess!

[00:31:13] G’s Animal Crossing: New Horizons recreation of Carlisle’s study, complete with Volturi painting

[00:34:16] The Groundhog Day suicide montage (obvious content warning here)

[00:39:06] Francesco Solimena, and a few examples of his work:

[00:39:38] The painting of Carlisle and the Volturi, as shown in New Moon and in the New Moon graphic novel

[00:40:57] G is incorrect—Edward has not told Bella he’s killed people yet. She’s getting mixed up with the movie, in which he does tell Bella he's a murderer during the meadow scene.

[00:54:20] Shannon’s Hot Topic jalice shirt, G’s Cullen crest and Bella rings (also from Hot Topic)

[01:16:11] The What We Do in the Shadows episode "The Orgy" (+ trailer)

[01:36:38] Follow Liza on instagram here!

Another action-packed show notes! Hope you enjoyed this week's adventures in music and art :))

[letsdothisbruh]

I posted 44 times in 2022

That's 44 more posts than 2021!

24 posts created (55%)

20 posts reblogged (45%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@cybersugarstuffs

@stuck-with-that-sum

@studyandstorms

@sizeleak

I tagged 22 of my posts in 2022

Only 50% of my posts had no tags

#letsdothisbruh - 21 posts

#motivation - 21 posts

#study - 21 posts

#studyspo - 21 posts

#studyinspo - 21 posts

#studyblr - 21 posts

#100 days of productivity - 20 posts

#we can do it - 19 posts

#stem major - 19 posts

#together - 18 posts

Longest Tag: 24 characters

#100 days of productivity

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Day 1/100- Nov 14- Mon

Trying to flesh out my SOP from the edits I got from my folks… it’s been daunting since I’m unable to find a good framework narrative without it sounding cliched…

Planning to put together a ppt and meet my advisor today, let’s see how that pans out. I have been anxious about it and have been procrastinating it for a while now.

Hopefully I make it through today and am productive.

Just reading a paper right now to finesse my question of purpose.

Song of the day:

On repeat 🔂

2 notes - Posted November 14, 2022

#4

Day 10/100- Nov 23- Wed

Half the week is over and I feel lazy and useless… gosh damn it.

I didn’t feel like doing anything today but still made myself come to my lab for the microscopy time I booked since it’s super crowded and I can’t try to change timings or make it up later…

I’m hoping to go back home and just finish some of my tasks for my courses. Today. I have to work it.

My avengers travel mug is keeping me sane with caffeine for now….

Song of the day:

This song accurately describes how I’m not enough how much ever I keep trying to jump hoops for everyone’s expectations of me 😑

2 notes - Posted November 23, 2022

#3

Day 17/100- Dec 2- Fri

Why is time moving this fast?

I didn’t get much done in terms of studying today but got much lab work done, setup for the genetic crosses for the week and made sure I did all I can so I can stay home guilt free tomorrow and go in on Sunday instead.

Even took time to go see my prof today and phew, I can see a tonne of work brewing up for this weekend!

The trick I need to master here is to hit the bed right now and make sure I wake up at a normal morning time tomo, eat healthy and NOT be intimidated by the lots of tasks… just gotta… bunch it all up into smaller tasks and get going and finish it!!

Just trying to get the courage to work smart and hard in the next few days, but I will be fine. I have to!!

Song of the Day:

4 notes - Posted December 2, 2022

#2

Day 12&13/100- Nov 26- Sat

Hmm I seemed to have forgotten to post yesterday..

Eh no one cares anyways.

See the full post

6 notes - Posted November 27, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Hey I found the #studychallengewithcleo by @that-premed-student and decided to go for it!

Today I’m continuing to work on my Thesis committee meeting presentation right now. Been at it since morning and I’m sure I crossed the 6 hour mark a while back haha

I’m definitely taking breaks in between, and eating food and drinking water/beverages (do be kind to yourself and take care of yourself even if you are stressed)

So currently my work for today is:

Finish analysing my final dataset

Include those graphs on my ppt

Finish including all the info from the tagged papers on my ppt

Make a script and read it 3-5 times before retiring for the night

And ofc overthinking and writing down any Qs I could be asked in that meeting tomorrow and looking up and keeping track of those answers separately.

I think my list is doable… I am hoping my presentation tomorrow goes amazingly well and my committee members greenlit me for my final semester without any issues.

8 notes - Posted November 29, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[game-set-canet]

100 questions to invade my personal life; 10, 26, 49, 40, 87

10. are you a morning person? nope. no. not at all. i'm not very talkative in the morning and need about an hour to get going

26. Dogs or cats? i love both so so much! but in case: dogs!

40. Do you see yourself being famous some day? not really, i don't see a reason why i should be famous some day 😂 i'd say i'm mainly average at everything

49. Tell us a story about your childhood. For my 5th birthday there was a big birthday party with all my kindergarten friends and one of them gave me a cactus (I have always loved cacti and still do) and I still have the cactus. It is now 18 years old and very big and there are now 7 sprigs, all of which have grown very big.

87. Would you rather live in the city or the woods? Why? definitely in the woods! i grew up in a rural area and need enough nature around me to be happy. Due to my studies, I live in a city part of the week and I wouldn't want to (and couldn't) live there for more than three days at a time. also, I'm used to having pets (my dog and also my horse) and I couldn't imagine that in the city. also: i hate having so much people around me, i think it's too stressful in the city.

thank you so so much!! 💕 feel hugged! 💕

100 questions to invade my personal life

[nathank77]

7/9/24

9:34 a.m Edited/Added to

So the hearing test I have appearantly excellent hearing yet it appears based on the graphs that it's a little worse than it was last time but not by much. It's frustrating cause I think I'd benefit from them but I don't meet the threshold. He doesn't even want a follow up, I can call if something seems off. I guess my tubes have cleared up which is nice.

My "perception" of hearing was marked as abnormal. That's the fucked part. He kept asking if I had something else in the background that would muffle sound and make it harder to hear. I didn't mention the hallucination bc- if i can hear you clearly, it drowns it out. If you're a room over it takes the person's voice. I didn't want to be labeled as crazy I want my medical files to be free of auditory hallucinations. Also it never steals the voice of someone I can hear clearly. Ever. It only does when the voice is too quiet.

The problem herein lies that until you can't hear anything under 26 decibels you have excellent hearing... and I'm right below the threshold so I'm still considered to have normal hearing despite hearing loss. I'm frustrated but whatever. Maybe in a year I'll call and see. I really wanted hearing aids cause I have to turn everything up louder and it's not due to the hallucination. The hallucination doesn't help.... but it doesn't drown out sound. The voice isn't loud I can just hear it clearly and only when something isn't louder than it. The test speaks for its self compared to last time it got worse. But whatever. Beyond that why do I have to turn up every device I have louder than I used to? Bc I'm right under the threshold. It's really obnoxious.

I got my new heart monitor thing and I put it on, I woke up with my chest feeling itchy af... and a poor skin contact reading. I removed it at 2 in the morning my skin was red and irritated. I'm starting to think I'm not going to be able to participate in the study and therefore I won't ever find out what's wrong with my heart. I mean the er picked up PVCs... so I mean even if it is straight panic attacks something is happening... I got to call cause I took Melatonin and Benadryl after removing the device, it almost took a hour to fall back to sleep and I wasn't going to fully wake myself up calling them. I got to check if there is a rash. Idk what to do. I didn't even sweat.

I planned out a game day today but once again I don't feel like gaming bc of my hallucination. I'm just watching ink master about to call the heart place and see what I can do bc I think I'm at the end of my rope for sensitive skin options.

No luck with dating go figure and I'm overwhelmed trying to find 2 therapists to replace Erin or just one who can see me twice a week... I'm still seeing the pre license but she's 26 and it's off putting working with someone younger than me. It was off putting working with mike and Kristen at first simply bc they are only a few years older than me.

I'm meeting with someone with 25 years of experience soon hopefully it's a good fit.

Anyways I feel really hopeless. I almost want to buy hearing amplifiers but I'm broke af. Really broke. Super broke. I can't afford to buy a 1$ thing of soap at the dollar store, let alone go to the MacBook store for my apple care...if I want to eat this month.

So it's whatever. I got a lot of appointments and shit this week. And I'm thinking about joining a local mentally ill place near me but it's work oriented... that's the problem I just want a place that I can go and paint, color, draw and talk to people without having IOP or something slapped on my record. I need to meet people but I dont need any counts against me on my medical file for being mentally ill, a psych ward hold is enough I would never do anything related to mental health but individual therapy at this point bc it would suggest potentially I can't take care of myself and I lack competency.

I wish hallucinating wasn't ruining my whole gaming experience and my passion..I wish I could meet someone. If I don't game I'm watching ink master all day cause I mean- I deserve a relaxing day I just wish I could enjoy gaming again but you try being immersed when all you hear is happy birthday if there isn't dialogue. It truly ruins everything. Busy work keeps my brain active on whatever task I'm doing and helps me ignore it bc I'm thinking about a lot of stuff.

I'll be busy the rest of the week so I'm hoping I can get motivated to play a game but last time it felt like a chore with the hallucination... a true chore.

Why can't I meet someone? It would be amazing if I had someone to talk to and someone to hang out with once a week. It would make a huge difference. I'd only join prime house to meet someone less crazy than me and find a gf. But it's kinda like going to a bar, you're going to meet Bar flies. At a crazy house, you're going to meet crazies. Not dateable people.

[limalosershq]

WELCOME, KEY! OR IS THAT KURT HUMMEL? EITHER WAY, YOU'RE A LIMA LOSER AROUND HERE NOW! Remember to look at our checklist here and then send in your account within 24 hours, if you need more time just let us know! That way I can send you the link to the discord server and you can get to plotting with everyone there. We all look forward to rping with you and once again, welcome to the mayhem of show choir!

OUT OF CHARACTER INFORMATION

NAME/ALIAS: Key or Kyran, either works. PROUNOUNS: they/them AGE (21+): 26 TIMEZONE: EST ACTIVITY: 7. I work 32 hours a week so keep that in mind, but other than that, I can be very active.

IN CHARACTER INFORMATION

NAME: Kurt Elizabeth Hummel FACECLAIM: Troye Sivan AGE/BIRTHDAY: 22, 1/11 GLEE CLUB: New Directions SONG CHOICE: Express Yourself by Madonna MAJOR/MINOR/GRADE: Fashion design with a minor in music, he’d be a junior. LOCATION: Still lives at home, commutes to school. OCCUPATION: Barista at the Lima Bean. CLUBS/EXTRACURRICULARS/SPORTS: Fashion & Design club, GSA

LIST AT LEAST 3 HEADCANONS ABOUT YOUR CHARACTER!

Kurt has hand-made all of his clothing since he was 15 years of age, and learned how to sew originally from his mother. He turns to fashion to honor her legacy just as much as he does it for himself.

Kurt is allergic to most pets, though not to a deadly extent. Just enough that he wouldn’t elect to get a pet of his own.

Kurt originally came out of the closet at the age of 15 and suffered a great deal of bullying at his high school. He sees college as his first chance to really be as open as he can about himself.

QUESTIONS

IS THIS WHERE YOU PICTURED YOURSELF RIGHT NOW IN THE GRAND SCHEME OF THINGS?

Honestly, yes and no. I always knew one day I’d be studying fashion, and that I’d be top of my class while doing so. That was never a question for me. What I’m not too happy about is the job front… I mean, I swear I saw a rat in the Lima Bean at one point. It’s a travesty. I need the money though, that’s not negotiable.

HOW’RE YOU FEELING ABOUT ALL THE SHOW CHOIR RIVALRY?

May the best team win, as they say. I do think a lot of the pettiness and backstabbery is very immature for people that are all fully grown adults, but competition is fierce. I know if I was up against someone with everything on the line, people might not see a very pretty side of mister Kurt Hummel.

WOULD YOU CONSIDER YOURSELF A LIMA LOSER? WHERE EXACTLY IS YOUR LIFE HEADED, OR REALLY, WHERE SHOULD IT BE HEADING?

For a good portion of my life I’ve definitely felt like a Lima loser. People all around me all but assured me that I didn’t matter, that I was worthless as a person. But I don’t know, I don’t think like that anymore. I plan to apply to Vogue next year and I hope I get in. If I get there, there’s no way anyone could refer to me as a Lima loser.

[mazegays]

could've followed my fears all the way down

hi everyone!! so, a quick question/vote for yall regarding the next couple of updates: would you a) prefer two chapters over two days, one saturday and one sunday b) two chapters in one day c) skip an update this is because i have realized that one of my update days is a day i will be attending a concert, so it is not very likely that i will remember to update. if you pick a or b, that will be the next update in two weeks, and c means that you'll get the chapter 28 on time and chapter 29 will be posted four weeks after that.

Chapter 27

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 28

“How are we going to tell him?” Minho hasn’t been able to figure out how, exactly, they’re going to tell Thomas about the Tree. The one they planted when they thought he was dead.

It should have been done sooner. It’s been long enough now that it’s going to seem like they’ve been keeping it from him on purpose. They should have told him before he was well enough to be able to demand to go see it immediately.

Minho knows they’ve messed up. He just doesn’t know how they’re going to fix it.

“I don’t know,” Gally says, “Just coming right out and saying it seems wrong. Should we take him down there and show him before explaining?”

“Explaining first would take the shock out of the whole thing, it might make it easier when he does see it.”

Minho’s not really sure how they’ve kept Thomas away from the Tree the whole time—he’s been able to walk around on his own for a while now, at least short distances, but they haven’t brought him to the firepits at all.

“We can’t hide it forever. I’m surprised he doesn’t know about it already.”

“I’m not saying we should. He’s only been to the greenhouse, though, he wouldn’t have been able to see it. And who wants to tell their friend about a memorial tree for them?”

He sees Gally shake his head out of the corner of his eye. “Well, there’s certainly not a handbook for that.”

Maybe they’re overthinking this. Maybe it’ll all be fine, and Thomas won’t really react aside from being upset that they planted the wrong type of tree in a very wrong spot.

“I’m sure it’ll be okay, Gally.” He tries, but he doesn’t really believe himself. He loves Thomas, really, but he’s not exactly known for having measured reactions.

“You’re back!” Thomas lights up when he sees him, which is very cute, and Minho feels Gally straighten up at his side.  “Anya’s cleared me to work in the kitchen again, and I only have to wear this shucking sling for six hours a day now!”

“What, you got bored of reading all day?” Gally teases, and it’s like he wasn’t fretting just a few moments ago.

Minho’s pretty sure Thomas is the only person who can make both of them relax that quickly.

“Frypan will be glad for your help,” He tells Thomas, earnestly. It’s nice to see him this excited about something.

They haven’t had much cause to be excited, ever. Especially not recently. For once, their luck was good enough that Thomas’s injuries hadn’t gotten too much worse when Rosa moved him, but it still set back his healing.

“She also told me not to go down to the fire pits alone, that there’s something you needed to show me there.” Thomas narrows his eyes.

They’re not getting out of this one.

Anya meant well, as she usually does, but Minho would have liked to be the first to mention it to Thomas.

“Maybe it’s something better shown than explained,” Gally says slowly, like he’s not sure what else to tell Thomas.

“Well, it’s not that bad, is it?” Thomas studies them for a moment before going back inside.

Minho doesn’t know what he saw, and he’s not sure he wants to.

Neither of them follow for a long moment.

This is not going to go well.

finish on ao3 or under the cut

Thomas has been isolated from the wider community for months, with only their friends, really, as company.  Jorge, when he had the time to spare.

Not that any of them really spend a lot of time with people outside of their fellow Maze survivors outside of their jobs; they’ve had each other, and that’s been okay.

He can’t look at the forest without panicking, which rules out moving to Gally’s cabin—at least for now.

“Minho, what do we do if he freaks out?” He hisses. Thomas really doesn’t need to hear this.

“We’ll handle it, like we always do. We’re good at calming him down now.”

“Okay, but it’s a tree. Thomas hasn’t done well with any trees, lately.”

Which really sucks, because Thomas had planned a nice setup around both this cabin— he’s not sure he can call it theirs  yet, they’ve hardly talked about anything— and his.

“He hasn’t had a panic attack in front of everyone before.”

“One, it won’t be everyone, two, the medical cabin is nearby if we need to go somewhere to help him through it, three, everyone here has had a panic attack before, they’ll understand.”

“He’ll hate everyone seeing.”

“He will, but that’s why we’ll move him if we can.” How is Minho being this calm, this rational, about all of this?

Gally doesn’t know, but he knows he knows better than to think this isn’t affecting Minho.

Just because he doesn’t show it, doesn’t mean it’s not happening.

He used to get so upset when he couldn’t get a rise out of Minho. Now, he knows it’s a well-practiced front on Minho’s part, not that Gally’s words and actions just didn’t affect him.

“I just— I don’t want him to get hurt more, Minho.”

“I know. I don’t, either, but we can’t keep him here forever, and I don’t want to. He likes being with our friends and helping out. He’s going to find out.”

“Are… is something wrong?” Thomas glances between them, brow furrowed.

He knows something’s wrong, of course, he’s too good at reading them by now not to know.

“We’re just not sure how you’ll react to what we have to show you.” Minho answers.

“Then tell me about it first.” This time they do follow him inside. He sits cross-legged on the bed, watching them.

“It’s something we did while you were missing.” Minho starts, then corrects himself. “... When we thought you were dead.”

“Like a memorial?”

“Yeah, exactly like that.” Gally’s not sure how the words make it out of his mouth.

Why is this so terrifying?

“And you couldn’t tell me why?” Thomas is defensive now, tone sharp.

Oh.

He thinks it’s an insult to him that they didn’t tell him, that they think he can’t handle it.

(Isn’t that exactly what they think, though?Isn’t that what they’ve been worried about this  whole time?)

“We weren’t sure what you would think, Thomas.” Minho says. He sits on the bed, and though Gally doesn’t think they’re doing it on purpose, they lean into each other a little bit. “It’s not really decorated—we found you before we could let ourselves think about putting your stuff on it or anything like that. But we weren’t sure how to tell you.”

“We didn’t want you to think we’d wanted you dead, or anything.” Gally takes the other side of the bed, and is gratified when Thomas turns to him. “We didn’t, we don’t, but it’d been long enough that we didn’t know what else to think.”

“Sonya told me about the big one.” Thomas murmurs. “She said it all felt fake. I thought you might have done something, it makes sense.

Gally almost wants to shake him.

This is one of the things he just doesn’t get about both Thomas and Minho; they can, at least outwardly, completely disconnect emotion from everything else. He’s only seen them do it when something bad happens to them, though.

Anyone else, and they’ll be as angry or sad or whatever else it is that they need to be. They both still react in anger, fear, whatever it is, but it’s lessened when it’s something they think they can take apart logically.

‘It makes sense’ that they thought he was dead?

Well. Yes, it does, but Gally would have been hurt by the fact that it hadn’t even been two weeks and they were already metaphorically burying him.

He can name all the times he’s seen Thomas upset because someone did something to him, and most of those he caused.

“Thomas,” He whispers, not willing to speak louder. Minho shoots him a look, probably knowing what he’s going for.

They can’t ignore this.

Some days, Gally wakes up earlier just to watch Thomas sleep, because he’s still there, breathing, alive, and his corpse isn’t rotting somewhere in the forest where they’ll never find it.

Minho does it too, he’s caught him at it before.

All three of them have nightmares, that’s a given, but they never talk about them. Not really.

Not the new ones. The older ones are easier, most of the time.

“I know, Gally.” Thomas scoots a little closer to him, rests his head on Gally’s shoulder. Minho’s holding his good hand, he realizes. “I don’t want to think about it.”

“Do you want to go see it?” Minho asks. “We don’t have to. We can wait.”

“I want to. What did you even do?”

“It’s a tree.” It’s better to get that out of the way, probably.

“Do you need help putting the sling back on?” All three of them know Thomas doesn’t, he’s been doing it for long enough on his own now— and they’ve been leaving him here, alone, with nothing else to think about.

Of course he figured it out.

What else has he been thinking about, with nothing else to do?

“Yeah, please.” Thomas moves so his bad arm is out, so Minho can help him with the sling, but otherwise stays close to Gally.

When he glances down, Thomas has his eyes closed; Gally can’t read his face.

What is he thinking?

How much does he know that he hasn’t told them?

<- 26 28 ->

[jdgo51]

DAILY DEVOTIONAL FOR SEPTEMBER 15, 2023

Putting God First

By Aya Bianca Into (Davao del Norte, Philippines)

READ MATTHEW 6:25-34

"Seek first [God’s] kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well."

MATTHEW 6:33 (NIV)

"Exams, scholarship requirements, extracurricular activities — this summed up my everyday life during my freshman year of college. The first few months went well. But I was part of a music organization that required several hours of practice every week — even on holidays. As time passed, I became exhausted with my routine. I started to worry that I might fail my exams and lose my scholarship.

One evening I felt God speaking to me, telling me to put God first on my to-do list each day and trust that my busy schedule and other concerns would be taken care of. So I committed to spend time praying and reading scripture every morning. As exam day approached, I saw how spending time with God regularly was helping me to put things in order — my studies, my time, and my daily tasks.

When my exam results came in, I was excited to see a near-perfect score. Truly God is faithful to the promise that if we put God first, God will take care of our daily needs. Time spent with God will never be in vain." Oh to have read this back in the day. It makes sense and I possibly had heard similar statements over my life until I got to college and later grad schools. Its funny how we hear things again and again and yet suddenly the message comes through one day. Is that day , too late? Nothing is ever too late.

TODAY'S PRAYER

"Dear God, thank you for taking care of our daily needs. Help us to spend more time with you even on busy days." Amen.

Matthew 6:25-34 25 “Therefore, I say to you, don’t worry about your life, what you’ll eat or what you’ll drink, or about your body, what you’ll wear. Isn’t life more than food and the body more than clothes? 26 Look at the birds in the sky. They don’t sow seed or harvest grain or gather crops into barns. Yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Aren’t you worth much more than they are? 27 Who among you by worrying can add a single moment to your life? 28 And why do you worry about clothes? Notice how the lilies in the field grow. They don’t wear themselves out with work, and they don’t spin cloth. 29 But I say to you that even Solomon in all of his splendor wasn’t dressed like one of these. 30 If God dresses grass in the field so beautifully, even though it’s alive today and tomorrow it’s thrown into the furnace, won’t God do much more for you, you people of weak faith? 31 Therefore, don’t worry and say, ‘What are we going to eat?’ or ‘What are we going to drink?’ or ‘What are we going to wear?’ 32 Gentiles long for all these things. Your heavenly Father knows that you need them. 33 Instead, desire first and foremost God’s kingdom and God’s righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 34 Therefore, stop worrying about tomorrow, because tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. Let's wake up. Seek God and everything else will go marvelously. We still want to worry, but we truly do not need to. (This is a hard lesson to learn, approaching 75 and I still don't believe it all the time.) Blessings, Joe

[beckitty]

I had an IUD put in to manage my endometriosis. I was told, like others, it would be a "little pinch" and to have some paracetamol before going to the appointment to cover "discomfort". I also had a hysteroscopy and biopsy done at the same time.

The hysteroscopy was fine, more uncomfortable than painful. The biopsy hurt, but I figured cutting part of my uterus away probably should, and brushed it of. The IUD insertion was a nightmare though. The doc went in with no anesthetic, and couldn't get my cervix open. Apparently I have scarring on it. So they decide to inject anasthetic into the cervix.

You know when you go to the dentist, and they have to inject anaesthesia into your gum, and it always hurts? Yeah, imagine that on an already hurting cervix.

After a few minute they decide I'm probably numb enough, and start trying again. It takes over half an hour and multiple attempts with an increasing amount of equipment for them to finally get the fucker in. All the time I'm breathing through the pain, reminding myself that it's not that bad, women have these done all the time. Then I get left to clean myself up and get dressed, and get to sit in a waiting room to recover until I'm ready to go.

It hurt, but I coped right? I was warned I might have some pain that could be managed with paracetamol and ibuprofen afterwards. Jokes on me, my pain got worse, and worse, and worse. Keep in mind I was on the 7th month of a period at that point, so if I had any bleeding or discharge from the surgery I couldn't tell.

I was told I could call the ward for help if I had a problem, so I did. They told me repeatedly that pain after this was normal, I was fine. I tried for 3 weeks to cope, until I collapsed, sobbing in pain in the middle of a nursing lecture.

The advantage of collapsing where I did was having access to nurses who specialised in women's health and pain management there, who were on the verge of calling me an ambulance, despite the fact that the medical school is very literally a 5 minute walk away from the women's hospital, and that's if you walk slow and don't take the shortcuts. I called the ward again, while one of my lecturers, a women's health specialist, stayed with me. The ward repeated that "some pain is normal", and my lecturer heard, and saw red. She got the name of the nurse on the ward, and ended the call. She helped me arrange an emergency appointment with my gp, since she doubted I would get the care I needed on that ward, and she later put in a complaint to the hospital and the NMC about the nurse in question.

I get to my gp, who gives me an extremely gentle pelvic exam. It still hurts like a motherfucker, but she tried. She told me she couldn't see my cervix properly as there was too much swelling in the area, and that might explain the fever I was running too. Yep, I had a massive infection, and if I hadn't had the gp take me seriously I would probably have missed it. I was in agony from a raging infection, but my pain was dismissed as normal and not worth worrying about.

The very worst thing about my story is I didn't need to say it. It's not new, it's not unusual, it's a common experience with a few personal details.

Also, this is from a Cochrane review of local anesthesia for uterine interventions from 2013:

We found that no technique provided reliable pain control in the 26 included studies. Some studies reported that women experienced severe pain (mean scores of 7 to 9 out of 10) during uterine intervention, irrespective of the analgesic technique used. ... We suggest that woman are likely to consider the rates and severity of pain during uterine interventions when performed awake to be unacceptable in the absence of neuraxial blockade

I hate how womens pain is dismissed as irrelevant or exaggerated, and how this is tied into sexual and gynacological care. And I'm so fucking glad I've found a doctor who actually listens and believes me, and is willing to give me a hysterectomy so I can opt out of this cycle of pain and bullshittery.

so one of the things that's so horrifying about birth control is that you have to, like, navigate this incredibly personal choice about your body and yet also face the epitome of misogyny. like, someone in the comments will say it wasn't that bad for me, and you'll be utterly silenced. like, everyone treats birth control like something that's super dirty. like, you have no fucking information or control over this thing because certain powerful people find it icky.

first it was the oral contraceptives. you went on those young, mostly for reasons unrelated to birth control - even your dermatologist suggested them to control your acne. the list of side effects was longer than your arm, and you just stared at it, horrified.

it made you so mentally ill, but you just heard that this was adulthood. that, yes, there are of course side effects, what did you expect. one day you looked up yasmin makes me depressed because surely this was far too intense, and you discovered that over 12,000 lawsuits had been successfully filed against the brand. it remains commonly prescribed on the open market. you switched brands a few times before oral contraceptives stopped being in any way effective. your doctor just, like, shrugged and said you could try a different brand again.

and the thing is that you're a feminist. you know from your own experience that birth control can be lifesaving, and that even when used for birth control - it is necessary healthcare. you have seen it save so many people from such bad situations, yourself included. it is critical that any person has access to birth control, and you would never suggest that we just get rid of all of it.

you were a little skeeved out by the implant (heard too many bad stories about it) and figured - okay, iud. it was some of the worst pain you've ever fucking experienced, and you did it with a small number of tylenol in your system (3), like you were getting your bikini line waxed instead of something practically sewn into your body.

and what's wild is that because sometimes it isn't a painful insertion process, it is vanishingly rare to find a doctor that will actually numb the area. while your doctor was talking to you about which brand to choose, you were thinking about the other ways you've been injured in your life. you thought about how you had a suspicious mole frozen off - something so small and easy - and how they'd numbed a huge area. you thought about when you broke your wrist and didn't actually notice, because you'd thought it was a sprain.

your understanding of pain is that how the human body responds to injury doesn't always relate to the actual pain tolerance of the person - it's more about how lucky that person is physically. maybe they broke it in a perfect way. maybe they happened to get hurt in a place without a lot of nerve endings. some people can handle a broken femur but crumble under a sore tooth. there's no true way to predict how "much" something actually hurts.

in no other situation would it be appropriate for doctors to ignore pain. just because someone can break their wrist and not feel it doesn't mean no one should receive pain meds for a broken wrist. it just means that particular person was lucky about it. it should not define treatment.

in the comments of videos about IUDs, literally thousands of people report agony. blinding, nauseating, soul-crushing agony. they say things like i had 2 kids and this was the worst thing i ever experienced or i literally have a tattoo on my ribs and it felt like a tickle. this thing almost killed me or would rather run into traffic than ever feel that again.

so it's either true that every single person who reports severe pain is exaggerating. or it's true that it's far more likely you will experience pain, rather than "just a pinch." and yet - there's nothing fucking been done about it. it kind of feels like a shrug is layered on top of everything - since technically it's elective, isn't it kind of your fault for agreeing to select it? stop being fearmongering. stop being defensive.

you fucking needed yours. you are almost weirdly protective of it. yours was so important for your physical and mental health. it helped you off hormonal birth control and even started helping some of your symptoms. it still fucking hurt for no fucking reason.

once while recovering from surgery, they offered you like 15 days of vicodin. you only took 2 of them. you've been offered oxy for tonsillitis. you turned down opioids while recovering from your wisdom tooth extraction. everything else has the option. you fucking drove yourself home after it, shocked and quietly weeping, feeling like something very bad had just happened. the nurse that held your hand during the experience looked down at you, tears in her eyes, and said - i know. this is cruelty in action.

and it's fucked up because the conversation is never just "hey, so the way we are doing this is fucking barbaric and doctors should be required to offer serious pain meds" - it's usually something around the lines of "well, it didn't kill you, did it?"

you just found out that removing that little bitch will hurt just as bad. a little pinch like how oral contraceptives have "some" serious symptoms. like your life and pain are expendable or not really important. like maybe we are all hysterical about it?

hysteria comes from the latin word for uterus, which is great!

you stand here at a crossroads. like - this thing is so important. did they really have to make it so fucking dangerous. and why is it that if you make a complaint, you're told - i didn't even want you to have this in the first place. we're told be careful what you wish for. we're told that it's our fault for wanting something so illict; we could simply choose not to need medication. that maybe if we don't like the scraps, we should get ready to starve.

we have been saying for so long - "i'm not asking you to remove the option, i'm asking you to reconsider the risk." this entire time we hear: well, this is what you wanted, isn't it?