#which means hopefully another on thursday

[hiphopcherrrypop]

DANIEL AQUINO

daniel is a standout player on the school's soccer team. off the field, he's among the popular crowd. seen by his peers as cool, confident, and collected, he actually struggles to keep up that carefully-crafted façade.

despite his popularity, he lacks any real friends. he doesn't let his guard down enough to form deep connections, instead just relying on superficial friendships to maintain his image. he feels trapped by the mask he wears, secretly holding some resentment for his sister's carefree authenticity.

[the-kipsabian]

i got so excited about getting an email that my stamps have shipped

is this what being an adult is like?

[digitalconcept-fl]

Thursday, October 26th, 2023

A woman has been found guilty of handing over a three-year-old British girl for female genital mutilation (FGM) during a trip to Kenya, in the first conviction of its kind.

After a trial at the Old Bailey, Amina Noor, 39, was convicted of assisting a Kenyan woman to carry out the procedure in 2006. The conviction, which carries a maximum sentence of 14 years, is the first for assisting in such harm under the Female Genital Mutilation Act 2003.

The only other successful prosecution under the act was in 2019 when a Ugandan woman from Walthamstow, east London, was jailed for 11 years for cutting a three-year-old girl.

Campaigners said the verdict showed that the introduction in 2015 of mandatory reporting of suspected FGM was working.

The senior crown prosecutor Patricia Strobino hailed Noor’s conviction, saying: “This kind of case will hopefully encourage potential victims and survivors of FGM to come forward, safe in the knowledge that they are supported, believed and also are able to speak their truth about what’s actually happened to them.

“It will also send a clear message to those prospective defendants or people that want to maintain this practice that it doesn’t matter whether they assist or practise or maintain this practice within the UK or overseas, they are likely to be prosecuted.”

Strobino added: “Part of the challenge of this type of offence is the fact that these types of offences occur in secrecy. Within specific communities within the UK, although these offences and practices are prevalent, it is often very difficult to get individuals to come forward to explain the circumstances of what’s happened to them because there was a fear that they may be excluded or pushed away or shunned, isolated from their community.”

Previously, the prosecutor Deanna Heer KC said Noor travelled to Kenya with the girl in 2006 and while there took her to a private house where the child was subjected to FGM.

The crime only came to light years later when the girl was 16 and confided in her English teacher at school.

When spoken to, the defendant said she thought the procedure was just an injection and that afterwards the girl was “happy and able to run around and play”. But when examined in 2019, it emerged that the girl’s clitoris had been removed.

Noor appeared “shocked and upset” and said that was not what she had thought was going to happen, Heer said. According to an initial account, Noor described going with another woman to a “clinic” where the girl was called into a room for a procedure.

The defendant said she was invited in but refused because she was “scared and worried”. Afterwards, the girl appeared quiet and cried the whole night and complained of pain, according to the account.

In a later police interview under caution, Noor denied that anyone had made threats against her before FGM was done to the girl.

Heer said: “She was asked whether, when she arrived at the clinic or even before then, she felt she did not want it to happen. She said: ‘Yeah I thought about it but then, you know, got it done.’”

Jurors were told the defendant was born in Somalia and moved to Kenya at the age of eight during the civil war in Somalia. She was 16 when she came to the UK and was later granted British citizenship.

The defendant described what had been done to the girl as “Sunnah”, meaning “tradition” or “way” in Arabic, and said it was a practice that had gone on for cultural reasons for many years.

Giving evidence in her trial, Noor, from Harrow, in north-west London, said she was threatened with being “cursed” and “disowned” within her community if she did not take part. She told jurors that the threat gave her “pain”, adding: “That was a pressure I had no power to do anything about.”

The alleged victim, who is now 21, cannot be identified for legal reasons.

Nimco Ali, an FGM survivor who founded the Five Foundation, a global partnership to end the cutting of girls, welcomed the verdict.

She said: “It is incredible that the mandatory reporting by teachers and healthcare professionals – that we have fought hard for – is starting to pay off. A girl was obviously failed. She was let down by the system but she got some form of justice today thanks to the policies that we now have in place.”

She added: “We have to address FGM in the UK and everywhere by working together to address the root causes of the issue.”

Research in 2014 estimated that 137,000 women and girls are affected by FGM in England and Wales. Ali said this estimate needed updating urgently.

[nolita-fairytale]

make my heart surrender | carmy berzatto x fem!reader | chapter three: thursday

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

warnings: lots of swearing, angst, use of she/her pronouns, allusions to sex, eventual smut, no use of y/n, second person pov, mentions of death/mikey's suicide

word count: 3.4k

summary: you and carmy finally find some time to catch up and carmy begins to realize that you're more similar than he thinks.

a/n: thank you to all who are reading, reblogging, and commenting omg. i'm so grateful that someone wanted to read this story. i wrote it in a week because i couldn't get these two out of my head. they were begging to be put on the page. i also have a companion playlist that i'll release when the story is done because i don't want to spoil anything! comment below if you'd like to be added to this story's taglist. i did presumptuously add a few of you i've interacted with, so please let me know if you'd also like to be taken off of it.

read: part two | masterlist

Thursday

You’re grateful that by day three, you’d been able to smooth over some of the tension between you and Carmy. You even looked forward to catching up with him, if the two of you can swing it. Instead of going home early, you had jumped on the line this evening. Ebra was out for the night and Marcus had asked to fly solo on prep so that you could give him some feedback before lunch service tomorrow morning. 

It was an easy decision, to fill in and jump on the line. After all, you had checked your bag on the plane so that you could bring your knife roll with you, just in case. There was something about this kitchen – the energy and the people – that you wanted to stick around for. And it didn’t hurt that you got to spend a little extra time with Carmy. When he was in his element, expediting and leading this kitchen… he was… breathtaking. 

“Damn, nice knife, Jeff” Tina comments, checking out the santoku you’re running through some parsley. She can hear the crisp, clean cuts you're making, which is what caught her attention in the first place.

“Jeff?” you question, shooting her a look. 

“Long story, but trust me. It’s a term of endearment,” Sydney interjects, from her side of the prep station. 

You chuckle, “She’s a beauty alright. My first fully Japanese knife. Though the steel is a bitch to take care of. That’s for sure.”

“What do you mean?” Tina questions further. 

“Well, it’s just a kind of metal alloy that’s super prone to-,” you start, completing your sentence at the same time as Sydney chimes in.

“Rusting,” you both say in unison, sharing a look. 

“Huh,” Tina sounds, suddenly losing interest. “I don’t get it. It’s more work to take care of? Our shit’s part-plastic and does the job just fine.”

“Oh but she’s so smooth,” you playfully swoon, referring to how beautifully the knife performs for you. 

“It’s all about the performance, T,” Sydney adds. 

Tina hums in response, still unconvinced by you and Sydney’s admiration for the fancy tools. 

“So you and Carmy. How’d you meet Jeff?” Tina inquires further geturing her knife towards Carmy’s expediting station, and eliciting another laugh from you and Sydney.

“Uhhhh… we both worked at the same restaurant in New York. I came in to stage and the competitive jerk tried to smoke me. Thought he could show me it was his territory.”

“Like a little bitch,” Tina teases, the shade evident in her voice.

“And you kicked his ass obviously,” Sydney suggests, hopefully. 

“Mhm,” Tina adds in agreement.

“Oh absolutely,” you answer, deviously. “I walked out with a job that night. Carmy and I are the classic kitchen staff case of… enemies turned good friends.” 

You look up from your station, noticing an exchanged look between Sydney and Tina. 

It’s the kind of look that says, Just friends, huh?

“Alright, alright. Enough with the girl talk, gossip girls. News flash: no one gives a shit about fuckin’ Tom Colicchio and Padma Whatserface over here,” Richie interrupts, referring to the you and Carmy, as he passes by with a few empty storage containers on the way to the dishwashing station. 

“Asshole / Fuck off, Richie,” Sydney and Tina shout back at the same time. 

“Hey! Listen up, everyone! Fire two spaghettis, two short ribs, one chicken,” Carmy calls out to the kitchen. You listen attentively, hearing the chorus of the entire kitchen repeat the order back to him, punctuating the order with a ‘heard.’ 

You smile to yourself, as you enjoy the feeling of falling into such a familiar rhythm. 

You’ve missed working in the kitchen, and you’ve missed working in the kitchen with Carmy. This was so different than any of the bullshit you’ve been through together – even when he is arguing or yelling at someone. It’s not some sterile environment that looks more like a science lab or an operation room than it does a kitchen.

No, this place has soul. 

Between the crass kitchen banter, the less than flattering nicknames, and its wild cast of characters, it’s only day three and you feel right at home. Dinner service flies by and you’re eager to check in with Marcus by the end of the shift. Before taking your apron off, you head over to his corner of the kitchen. 

“Hey, how’s everything going, chef?” you ask, curiously. 

“Good, chef,” he answers proudly. “I got the brioche covered and ready to rise overnight and I prepped the cake donuts so we’re ready to roll tomorrow morning. I went with a blueberry cake donut this time around.” 

“Sounds great. I can’t wait to try it, chef,” you reply. “Need anything from me before I head out for the night?”

“Oh no, uh, I’m almost done here,” Marcus answers, inspiring confidence in his ability. “Just workin’ on a curd for the filling, chef. Just like you taught me.”

“Alright,” you chuckle, tickled by how excited he is. “Have a good night, chef.” You pause, wondering if your words will be totally lost on him. “And make sure you get some rest tonight, okay?” 

He responds with a nod, as you leave his station.

You make your way to the locker area, hanging your apron up, and slipping off your kitchen sneakers, before taking a seat on the bench. It looks like most of the kitchen staff got a head start on you and have already left, or are out of their kitchen clothes and ready to head home. There’s a strange feeling in your heart. You haven’t felt this kind of… community… in a professional kitchen in a long time and you try your best to name what it is you’ve felt was missing. 

“Hey,” you hear a voice say, pulling you from your thoughts. 

“Hey,” you say to Carmy. 

He removes his apron, folding it over his forearm. It sits further down his arm, right near his tattooed hand, you notice, as he leans his side against the lockers. 

“Thanks for jumpin’ in… you know… on the line tonight,” he starts his gaze practically piercing through your soul. 

“Yeah, it’s uh, no problem,” you reply, placing your knife roll and kitchen shoes back into your locker. “I had fun.”

“You uh, you still want to go for that drink?” he asks, shyly. 

You smile. 

“Yeah.”

*

“It’s fucked up,” Carmy shakes his head in disbelief. 

“Oh please. What?” you groan, shooting him a look.

“You’ve been in my city for… what three days now and you already have a hookup at one of the hardest to get into bars here,” Carmy replies, eliciting a laugh from you. 

“Oh my god,” you sigh with a playful eye roll. “I’m a New Yorker, asshole. You know that’s how we do it.” 

He shakes his head again, before locking eyes with you, “You were always better at it than me.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Are you, Carmen Berzatto, finally admitting that I’m better at something than you? Can you say it again, and I’m just going to-.” you tease, playfully, pulling out your phone as if you’re going to film him saying it. 

“Oh shut up…” he shoots back, gently pushing your phone away from his face. 

“I mean, you could always make friends with anyone. The bodega guy downstairs. The fuckin’ bodega cat. Our favorite butcher? ‘S why we always got the good cuts of meat when we cooked together on our days off.” 

“Which is exactly why I do it,” you point out. 

You had always been so magnetic to him. It’s something that he’s always admired about you – something that always reminded him of Mikey. 

“No, I-, I used to be a regular at this bar when I was working at Gramercy Tavern – actually, I think it closed right before you came to New York. Anyways, found out my favorite bartender moved to Chicago and I sent him a message letting him know I’d be in town. Said he’d get us in even if they were booked up, and,” you gesture towards where the two of you are sitting together, “Et voila!” 

Carmy takes a look around. He hasn’t been in a fine dining establishment since he left New York. It’s as if all the fancy awards and all the dues he’s paid cooking in the best restaurants in the entire world don’t matter anymore. He feels so out of place: the people, the over-the-top cocktails, the overpriced bowls of food called something fancy to justify the high price point. 

“From the kitchen” your bartender had said curtly, a mere few minutes ago. He had placed a few plates in front of the two of you to share that you most certainly didn’t order.

You both had thanked the bartender, before digging into the large bowl of soup, stracciatella, and focaccia bread on the plate. You rip off pieces of bread, dipping them into the salty broth, popping them into your mouth. Carmy’s much more of a gentleman about it, using his spoon to try the soup first. You had only planned on drinking here, but your friend at The Aviary had really come through. You’re sure it doesn’t hurt that you’re here with Carmy, and that these guys definitely know who Carmy is. 

“So…” you start, taking a sip of whatever fizzy strawberry gin thing you’d ordered earlier. “I feel like there are a lot of long stories I’d like to hear.” 

Carmy makes a sound in agreement before taking a sip of his drink. It’s just bourbon on the rocks, and you wonder when he started drinking bourbon like this.

“I mean… we could start here. How the hell are ya?” you ask. 

“I…” he starts, before trailing off. He buries his face in his hands, dragging his fingertips across his forehead. “It’s uh, it’s been a long couple of months. Christ. The restaurant was a goddamn mess, everyone hated my fuckin’ guts. And then Syd showed up and, well, she’s been a big help.” 

You wait a beat before saying, “As much as I want to hear about the restaurant, Carm, I mean how are you doing?”

Your words stop him, and he looks up at you with those baby blue eyes. He takes his time thinking about it, shrugging before muttering something along the lines of, “I’m okay, I guess.”

He’s searching for the right words to explain how the hell he’s even supposed to answer that question.

“I don’t know. Guess I thought if I fixed the restaurant, if I could fix it-. Maybe I could fix him,” he drags out. 

He waits a few beats before finally admitting:

“I miss him. Mikey. And I found out all kinds of shit about him that I-, well, shit I didn’t know. I think-, I think it’s why he kept me away. Why he shut me out.”

You listen as he begins to fill you in: about Mikey, the drugs, the debt he inherited that he now owes to Cicero, how hard it was to win over the kitchen staff that, come hell or high water, weren’t interested in changing their ways. And then he tells you about the meetings he's been going to -- the al-anon meetings. And you begin to understand. While he’s the same old Carmy, this isn’t the exact same Carmy that you knew in New York. The Carmy you knew in New York never would’ve gone to those meetings. He would’ve brushed it off and pretended there wasn’t a problem and taken as much punishment as he could in the kitchen instead of dealing with what he was feeling.

Mikey’s death, and coming home, and this restaurant, it’s all changed him. 

And maybe, just maybe, it’s part of the reason why, after months of no contact, he reached out to you now, but he’s not sure if he should tell you that yet.

You’ve got to give it to him. If anything, he’s exceptionally talented at cutting people out of his life. It’s his M.O – the only thing that’s been consistent in his life – even when those people didn’t deserve it. It’s what he knows to do. It’s something he’s learned… from Mikey, from his dad… 

But this… what he’s telling you, these are stories of connection and community. 

“And Syd’s really helped me pull this shit together. She's kinda like... the glue, y'know? I- I don’t know where we’d be without her,” Carmy concludes.

You agree. Syd is brilliant. You can see just from having been in that kitchen that she’s been the biggest catalyst for the changes — even his.

“I know you only asked me to come for pastry but I’m glad you let me jump in on the line tonight,” you say. “It’s cool to see what you’re doing now and… I don’t know. I know it was a rocky start, but you’ve got something here. Something that could be really, really good, Carm. You’re making real fucking food. Like your mom’s chicken. I haven’t forgotten about that.” 

“How can you remember that?” Carmy asks, a little surprised, his eyes lighting up. He’d almost forgotten that he’d once made it for you while you were both still in New York.

You nod, “Best chicken piccata I’ve had in my life.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Hands down.”

“You know,” you start, a mischievous tone in your voice. “If I recall correctly, you made me some pretty bomb meals back in New York. And didn’t I say something along the lines of you really shining when-?”

“Oh no,” he groans. “Not this again.”

“I’m just saying!” you justify, innocently. “When you cook the food you grew up with, Carm, you’re at your very best. And don’t get me wrong. You’re an exceptional chef, regardless of what you do but-.”

“So what? You’re gonna say ‘I told you so?’” he questions, shooting you a look. 

You shrug, playfully, “I can’t help it if I’m right all the time,” earning an eye roll from him. 

“Especially when it comes to you.”

He’s quiet for a moment, because you do know him. You’ve seen sides of him he’s barely let anyone else see. It feels good and terrifying all at once to be seen this clearly.

“Yeah, well, you always were a little more Mozza than French Laundry, huh?” he shoots back, referencing your difference in preference. While Mozza was more family style, The French Laundry, a restaurant Carmy had worked at once upon a time, was anything but. 

“Yeah. Who knew one day we’d switch places?” you reply, a sadness in your voice. Were you… envious of what Carmy had? Was this what you were looking for?

“So uh, you gonna tell me what the hell happened with the restaurant?” Carmy asked, changing the subject – changing the subject to you. 

You sigh, you raise your drink to your lips, finishing the rest of what’s in the glass in one go. 

“That bad, huh?”

“No!” you’re quick to reply. “Well, yes. But no. But yeah….” 

Carmy flags the bartender down, ordering another round for the two of you. 

You’re not even sure where to begin in regards to the existential crisis of sorts that you’ve been having, so you just tell him what happened. 

“I was juicing blood oranges one day. And-, you know we were going to take the juice and do all that fancy gastronomy shit with it… turn it into like, the same consistency of ‘dew in the early morning’…” you began to explain, quoting what your head pastry chef had said that day.  

“And I’m sitting there thinking… what the hell am I doing? I mean, who eats food like this?! Who wants to eat a drop of blood orange juice that’s been turned into the consistency of dew in the early mornings? Like, why the fuck can’t I just make the best blood orange olive oil cake anyone’s ever had, and that be enough, you know?”

“And. I don’t know. It got me thinking a lot about the kind of food I want to make, and what that would mean, and what does any of this shit even mean? Fast forward to a week later, and I don’t feel like I have a fuckin’ clue about what I want to do with my life and I’m quitting the restaurant.”

You pause, noticing that he’s just been listening attentively this whole time.

“I’m tired, Carm,” you admit. “I mean. I’m burnt the hell out. I just. I don’t want to work this hard for something that- something that I’m not even sure I believe in anymore.”

Another beat. 

“I know it sounds totally insane but-.”

“No! No, it doesn’t,” Carmy interrupts, quick to reassure you, as he reaches for your hand. Your eyes flicker from his hand on yours, the small tattoo above his wrist, then back to him, feeling the loss of body heat as he pulls his hand back only a moment later. 

“I feel like I’ve been thinkin’ about a lot of the same shit,” he admits, empathizing with you. 

“I just feel… kind of lost,” you say, and it’s the first time you’ve said it out loud. “I do. I-, I’ve been feeling really lost lately.”

In all the time he’s known you, never could he have expected you to feel lost. He wondered if he’d just put you on a pedestal. You had always been this stunningly charismatic, charming person that could walk into any room and in minutes, have everyone wrapped around your finger. For so long he denied any feelings for you because he knew you were unattainable – that someone like you could ever want someone like him felt impossible. Wouldn’t you be better off with one of those Wall Street assholes that came into the restaurant all the time – wining and dining their clients with their expensive wristwatches and fancy town cars?

But hearing you say it – that you feel lost – it reminds him that you’re only human too. 

He waits another beat, guilt filling up his throat, before he speaks again. 

“I should’ve been there for you. I’m sorry.”

There’s an earnestness in his voice that makes you want to trust him. Sure, it seems like he’s been apologizing to you for three days straight, but you want to listen. 

You take another sip of your drink. 

“I started volunteering at a Brooklyn community garden so I could like, pull my head out of my ass,” you share with him. 

“Did it help?”

You shrug, “Yeah, a little bit.”

It helped, but it hadn’t fixed anything. You feel like you can confide in him, especially since he told you that he was going to meetings.

“My therapist actually encouraged me to come here,” you confess, gauging his reaction as the words flow from your mouth. “Get out of dodge. Get a change of scenery… give myself some time to think.”

“We both know you do a little too much of that,” he teases gently, and you chuckle. 

Between Carmy’s avoidance, and your neuroses, you’re quite the pairing. 

“Yeah.”

Carmy pauses, not sure if he has the words to give you the explanation you deserve, but he’s going to try. 

“I had… a lot goin’ on. When I got back. And I didn’t know….” He pauses before continuing. “I didn’t know how to do it all at once. How to handle, you know… everything at the same time.”

And it’s just easier to avoid everything – to avoid you, to avoid the way I feel about you, he thinks to himself.

And it’s exactly what he did, he pushed you away, and pushed any and all feelings or thoughts about you into a dark hole, never to be acknowledged ever again. 

Until you quit your job. Until his phone call with Tim. Until his phone call with you. 

“I know, Carm. I know you’re sorry and I appreciate the apology,” you start, taking a breath. “It’s just that-.  I need you to know...” 

You pause, suddenly feeling like you’re in the middle of an anxiety dream where you realize you’re not wearing any pants.

“I need you to know that it hurt. It… it really hurt. Not hearing from you. Being cut out like that.”

“I know,” he admits, remorsefully. “I’m gonna be better. At least I’m trying to be.” 

“I really want to believe that,” you say, softly. 

But I don’t want to get hurt again, you think to yourself.

He looks at you, a soft, shy smile on his face, and it makes you want to take a chance on him. 

Who are you kidding? You’d jump off of a bridge with him if he asked, even if it meant getting hurt all over again.

“Okay?” he asks, hopefully. 

You’re not sure if he’s asking if it’s okay, if you’re okay, if everything is okay between the two of you, and you wonder if he means all three.

“Okay,” you answer, quietly. 

“Okay.”

read: part four

taglist: @lazypeachsoul @bookwormvoyageuse @allthefandomstogether

[srbachchan]

DAY 5773

Jalsa, Mumbai Dec 7/8, 2023 Thu/Fri 2:08 AM

Birthday - EF Binay Kumar Pandey Thursday, 7 December ... birthday greetings to our Ef on this day and the wishes for many more .. love from the Ef family 🌹

work is the essence of life .. and the running of it continuous .. each work day .. the routine must not change hopefully ..

but standing in the wings and waiting for the music cue to begin the begin, is the motivational moment of the day .. will it won't it can it shall it be .. aaahhh .. so many thoughts run through the system .. but as you take the corner in your stride and hear the cheer from the audience, its the greatest feeling of extensive vigour and strength .. it forgets the behind the mind and the be .. all coming together to perform .. the preform, to never hold back .. to give all that can be given and more .. each time ..

that is the meaning and purpose of a professional life ..

the head drops off for the reminder to 😴 .. but the cerebrum pops up its bearings and pushes it out of the slumberous slumber to rise , get a drink of the H2O and back the grind to its fulfillment ..

so shall be with you in a while ..

what a misadventure in the discrepancy of the informed brigade .. they the pillars of the pillar .. when the myopia fails upon the tracts of the tenets prescribed .. the 'out' to cover the spaces , and then in its revelation of the fact to deliberate on it for more paper in use upon felled tree work .. give any to attract the misappropriation , which in turn gives another day .. a DAY .. of greater space and attention ..

what a distinguished life they lead that rest their heads of the soft pillows and covered duvets of malignant space - cover ..

a space that has ben the give all and take all of the required filling .. like the cerebrum of vacant forestry ..

the brilliance of form over matter ...

which I believe does not matter at all .. 🤣

😂

😳

Amitabh Bachchan

[storiesofsvu]

Girl Dinner

Casey Novak x Rita Calhoun Warnings: language, sass, bantering, smut. Welp, at least this is finally done. I can't tell ya if it's any good or if I even like it, but I finally actually managed to write after a solid two weeks of nothing. Hoping that the creativity will continue to bless me and I can get some more of it done as the month goes on. At least I managed to finagle my way into getting Thursday off so hopefully that will help! Manifest more writing to come from me soon! lol, apologies for things taking so long. Especially to those of you who have bought me ko-fi's for specific requests! Also this is my first time writing a full blown smut piece for a ship and not a reader insert, so it's not gonna be perfect lol

Working through dinner in the Calhoun/Novak household was a very usual thing, especially during the week. Weeknights were for ordering take out to the office while slaving over files or opening arguments and witness lists. They were for going out with the firm, bartering, rubbing elbows and climbing the social chains, making connections that would no doubt come to help you out later down the road. Nights spent sharing bottles of wine with prospective clients at the finest steakhouses in Manhattan for hours while you started to piece together people’s character and integrity. They were for hours spent at Forlini’s, shooting the shit and attempting to make plea deals with the prosecutor on the case, sometimes multiple at once. It was very rare that both of them actually made it home in time for dinner at all.

Not that Casey minded, she was used to eating alone in her office at Hogan place, putting blood sweat and tears into cases that she might not even end up winning. Besides, it certainly wasn’t like Rita was going to cook for her, the best she was getting was pricey take out (which Rita sometimes would send to the apartment when she knew the other woman was home). Most nights Casey got home first she’d toss together something delicious and semi healthy, setting aside a plate for Rita whenever she did get home, if she’d already eaten, it would be tomorrow’s lunch.

Tonight was the rare occasion where they were both home by dinner time, but that didn’t mean either of them were done working. Rita was in the home office; door open just a crack and Casey could hear her on the phone. By the sound of things, she was talking deals, and the sassy and somewhat playful tone in her voice told her it was Barba on the other side of the line. So she chose to stay at the kitchen island and finish up her own closing argument, leave her girlfriend squabbling with her best friend for a little longer.

It was almost an hour later when Casey’s stomach began to rumble, but the office conversation had since changed to speaker phone, meaning it was nowhere near over so she treated it like any other night they were apart. She closed her file folders, stashing them in her work bag and padded through the kitchen to the fridge, staring into it, the pantry and the freezer until she found something suitable to throw in the oven for herself. When it was finished, she took it into the living room with a glass of wine, throwing a mindless show on the television to keep her occupied while she waited for Rita to wrap up whatever she was working on.

She was done a second glass of wine by the time she realized how late it was, letting out a soft sigh as she pushed off the couch. Stopping in the kitchen she poured out another glass of wine for Rita before wandering down the hallway and knocked gently on the door. Rita’s soft ‘come in’ echoed through the space and Casey smiled, stepping into the office.

“Are you that deep into it tonight?”

“I was.” She laughed lightly, “then Raf got me all distracted.”

“Well,” Casey perched on the edge of her desk, placing down one of the wine glasses, “if you’ve still got work to do, start with this, I’ll get you some dinner going.”

“I have dinner.” The older woman replied, gesturing to the snack box she had made to take to work, a handful of trail mix, half a bag of salt and vinegar Boom Chicka Pop, some now very brown apple slices, and cubes of cheese.

“That is not dinner.” Casey practically snorted, “that barely constitutes a snack.”

“It counts.” She protested with a laugh, popping a piece of cheese into her mouth with a shrug, “I had a big lunch, went out with Liz. It’s fine darling.”

“Is this how you eat when I’m not around?”

“It’s food, isn’t it?” She shrugged, munching on some more of it while continuing to scribble on a legal pad.

“Did you survive on Lunchables at Harvard?” She asked with a laugh, the look Rita gave her making her realize she probably didn’t even know what a Lunchable was.

“Rafael cooked. Or we went down to the dining hall. You’ve seen it, that constitutes real food.”

Casey let out a small huff, “I was about to make a comment about how expensive that must’ve gotten but then I remembered who I’m talking to.”

Rita chuckled, her pen stilling in her hand as she looked up at the redhead, “I know you enjoy cooking for me, but I am being perfectly nutritious.”

“Okay, but lunch with Liz, that,” she gestured to the snack box, “plus the half an egg you ate on your way out the door doesn’t count as three balanced meals.”

“Oh,” She grinned, “and I’m so sure your dinner of… what was it? Let me guess, dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets and tater tots, does?”

“Hey!” Casey pouted, “at least I actually cooked them! It counts as dinner. Rita, c’mon.” she tugged at her hand, “I’ll even order expensive take out, you need something hot and delicious to eat.”

Rita let out a low laugh, her lips curving up into a devilish smirk as she looked up at the other woman, “you know… if you wanted me to eat you out all you had to do was ask.”

“Rita!” Casey felt her cheeks heat, her eyes widening at the other woman’s words.

“What?” She shrugged, her eyes dragging up and down her body, lingering on the swell of her chest peeking out from under her shirt, “you said something hot and delicious. And something hot and delicious happens to be standing right in front of me…”

“Rita…” She warned, letting out a huff.

“Are you telling me you don’t want me to eat you out?” She asked, picking up her pen again, flipping it through her fingers, “fine, I’ll keep working. But I thought I had you trained better, you should know every good dinner needs an even tastier appetizer.” She glanced up at Casey, her brow raised and a hungry fire in her eyes, “and I am particularly fond of how you taste.” Casey gulped, shifting awkwardly on the edge of Rita’s desk, pulling a dark chuckle from the other woman, “that’s what I thought.” She swatted at her hip, “bedroom. I’m not risking you ruining any of this paperwork.”

The heat from Casey’s cheeks started to tingle through her body, her mind already beginning to cloud at the thought of Rita’s mouth on her. The woman knew exactly just how to drive her wild, she could have her turned on in the flash of a second with just a lingering look or her extensive vocabulary, made even spicier the moment she started dirty talking.

And that was before she even laid a hand on her.

By the time Casey was in the bedroom her shirt was tugged over her head and she was ducking to kiss Rita, accepting the other woman’s tongue into her mouth as she let out a soft moan. Rita’s hands were on the waistband of her pants, pulling them and her underwear down over her hips so Casey could kick them off. The brunette nudged her to sit on the edge of the bed, softly pulling away from the kiss and Casey’s hands flew to her waist, untucking her blouse, fingers sneaking underneath the fabric to tickle across her heated skin. Rita caught her wrists, pressing a kiss to the palm of one of her hands,

“Uh-uh.”

“But.” She began to protest before Rita cocked a brow at her.

“This is about getting you off, and then getting me dinner. I can have my fun later.”

“Promise?” She practically pouted and Rita laughed softly, cupping her face, thumb stroking over her cheek before she leant down, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose.

“Promise.” She nodded, “now lie back darling.”

Casey shifted on the bed until her head hit the pillows, her skin prickling as Rita climbed over her, catching her lips in a kiss while her hands began to trace patterns on porcelain skin. She couldn’t help but moan when Rita’s tongue slipped back into her mouth, dancing with her own as their lips moved with a familiar grace. The tingle between her legs grew at the feeling of hands softly groping at her chest, rolling her nipple between finger and thumb and she broke the kiss to moan gently, her head falling back into the pillows.

Rita took advantage, her lips trailing down her neck, teeth nipping gently at her skin in an attempt to not leave any marks in the morning. She licked across her collarbone, pausing to press a gentle kiss in the middle before her lips continue to trace across Casey’s skin. The other woman wound her fingers gently into her hair, holding her to her as she worked her way across her body, little whimpers escaping her lips as her pussy began to flutter. Rita’s lips wrapped around a nipple, sucking it into her mouth as Casey moaned softly, her nails scratching at the brunette’s scalp, her hips rocking up off the bed begging for more contact. Her lips curved up into a grin on Casey’s skin before her teeth nipped at her nipple and she let out a gasp, back arching off the bed. Satisfied with the reaction she repeated the motions on the other side, leaving Casey whining beneath her, body shivering against the bed, her pussy practically dripping. Wrapping a sturdy arm around her waist, Rita rolled onto her back, a small shriek leaving the other woman’s lips as she did so.

“What’re y—”

“Come sit on my face.” She muttered; her breath hot on Casey’s lips as she surged up to steal another kiss.

“But…”

“My appetizer,” Rita squeezed at her hips as she stole another heated kiss, “my choice of how it’s presented, right?”

“You’re ridiculous.” Casey shook her head, kissing her once more before she crawled up the bed, settling her legs on either side of her head and Rita’s hands slid up her legs, softly grasping her waist.

Casey let out a gasp when Rita yanked her down onto her face, her tongue lapping at the other woman’s pussy. Her lips moved with expertise, tongue slipping in just enough to tantalize her, pulling waves of pleasure from deeper within her body with each pass of her tongue. Juices began to smear across her lips as Casey whined above her, her hands shooting out to clutch at the headboard. Rita groaned against her skin, her fingers tightening into her hips, rocking her body ever so gently, encouraging Casey to grind down onto her, to chase her release as needily as she wanted to.

“Oh fu-uck.” Her body trembled when Rita’s nose nudged against her throbbing clit, a whimper escaping her lips.

She could feel Rita’s lips curving up into a smirk against her skin before her mouth shifted upwards so she could suck her clit into her mouth. Casey moaned louder at the sensation, her head falling back as she continued to grind down onto Rita. Her heart was thundering in her chest, heat prickling under her skin as the pleasure soared through her, pussy fluttering around nothing, dripping down her thighs. Rita’s tongue danced patterns against her clit, flicking with the tip exactly how Casey desired, her noises getting louder with each movement from the other woman. She was so close and Rita could sense it, sucking harder on her clit, moaning into her pussy, the vibrations driving Casey wild, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

“Please…” she whined, pulling a chuckle from Rita whose hand snuck between the redhead’s thighs, playing with her folds before two fingers sunk into her heat, “fuck.”

Rita groaned again, feeling Casey’s pussy pulse around her fingers as she fucked her, her lips sucking harder around her clit. Juices dribbled down her wrist, her fingers curling, quickly finding the sensitive spot inside her cunt, Casey let out a gasp, her head dropping forward as pleasure shot through her body.

“Oh god…” she moaned, “d-don’t stop.” Her body jolted, thighs threatening to suffocate Rita as she continued her motions, “s’close.”

Rita moaned in response, her tongue flicking faster, working in tandem with her fingers, the tips pressing into Casey’s g-spot with each thrust. She rubbed harder, lingering against the sensitive spot and Casey cried out, her entire body shaking as the coil burst and her orgasm hit her, coursing through her body, the fire bursting from under her skin. Rita’s tongue lazily licked at her clit, smirking at the way it made the other woman shudder before she pulled her fingers from her pussy, her mouth sinking back down to gently clean up the mess she’d made between her legs.

Casey could feel her body aching to go limp and in an attempt to actually not suffocate her girlfriend she mustered up the strength to swing her leg off her, dropping down onto the bed as she panted. Rita chuckled beside her, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand before she reached out, pulling Casey into her embrace. With a soft sigh the redhead relaxed into her, curling into her side as her head found home on her chest. Rita’s nails softly scratched at her scalp, gliding through her hair as she pressed a soft kiss to her temple.

“Feeling better?” She asked, her free hand gliding up and down Casey’s back.

“Much.” She mumbled in reply, finally able to catch her breath. It was only after a minute that her brow furrowed and she pulled her head up, looking up at Rita, “wait… this wasn’t about me, this was about you eating.”

“Did I not just eat?” Rita cocked a brow, a grin on her lips and Casey rolled her eyes.

“An actual meal, consisting of physical food that was better than some Lunchable.”

“I’m perfectly fine.” She smiled, leaning down to place a kiss onto Casey’s lips. As much as she would claim she was fine, her body was about to betray her, a loud growl echoing through the room from her stomach. Casey barked out a laugh as Rita huffed, dropping back onto the pillows.

“No denying it now.” Grinning, the redhead stole a kiss, “what do you feel like? Something fancy or something comforting.”

“If that’s your way of asking if pizza is acceptable, my answer is yes.” She pinched at Casey’s waist, “just keep the pineapple on your side please.”

“Of course.” Casey kissed her cheek before rolling over to grab her phone from the nightstand, quickly punching in the order before tossing the device to the side.

“How long.” Rita asked, shifting the blankets around the two of them.

“Twenty minutes.”

“Perfect.” Her arms wound around the other woman, “that’s plenty of time for another round.”

“You are insufferable.” Casey laughed as she accepted the kiss.

“And you love it.”

“Mmhmm.”

________________

@svulife-rl @mickey-gomez @naturalxselection @clarawatson @yesterdaysgone @momlifebehard @alexusonfire @summergeezb @rainbowelshrhian @daddy-heather-dunbar @alcabots @ladysc @daffodil-heart @thisisraes @happenstnces @kmc1989 @valentinesfrog @noahrex @prentiss-theorem

[bringbacktim]

hello! I was wondering if you could write an enemies to lovers for logan! like reader is an american driver or something and everyone compares the two americans, which annoys logan and reader. and hopefully it ends with fluff and smut! 🫶🏻 thank you in advance 🥹

I loved this request. Part 2 up now

America²

Not edited or proofread, mostly written while I was nearly asleep so definitely some mistakes . Endings a bit meh cause I kinda gave up towards the end

Warnings: arguments, logan being mean , y/n being kinda mean, oscar cameos , loads of dialogue , mentions of jacking/wanking off , mentions of America

Wc:1.7k

Being an American and a female f1 driver was basically the same as being stuck in the inner rings of hell. With there being two American drivers in the same grid year made what felt like everyone on earth compare the two to no end

The sport is British so most of the fans either hate Americans or think women shouldn't be f1 drivers so Y/n couldn't win in the eyes of the public , or Logan Sargeant for that matter . She had beaten him in the f2 championships in a very Hamilton/Verstappen Abu Dhabi way and he was not happy about it at all

Also the fact that oscar was becoming more of her friend and less of his didn't make Logan jump with joy

When they not only had to be on the same sofa in the same room for Thursdays press conference they were already in a bad mood , but when they found out they had to be sat next to each other was the last straw

"Oscar please swap seats with me , I'll let you past me in the race" Y/n begged the brunette

"Can't you suck it up and just sit next to him this once? And we both know your going to be behind me in the race" Oscar asked already knowing the answer would be a no

"You're no use piastri, have you seen Daniel or George anywhere?" She said looking around the room for them

"K mag would you mind swapping seats with me for the press conference?" Logan asked in a less begging tone than y/n

"Are we even allowed to swap places?" He questioned as he'd never known anyone to need to

"I'm sure you can if you need , which I do desperately" logan said the begging  starting to bubble to the surface

"What do I get out of it?"

"A great secret santa gift" he laughed

"Okay fine , I'll swap with you" he sighed as the younger boy celebrated and thanked him

Now that there was a wall between them that goes by the name of Kevin Magnussen the tension between them was less harsh as they didn't want another pr disaster to handle

There wasn't any outright mean or passive aggressive remarks to one another, but if logan would answer a question Y/n would start yawning or whisper something to kevin or Oscar beside her and if Y/n was answering a question logan would also talk to Kevin or try and discreetly check his phone that he definitely shouldn't have in his pocket . This didn't go unnoticed by literally anyone in the room and everyone on the sofa would make a mental note to ask about it later

Abu Dhabi weekend went from bad to worse . Logan dnfing in qualifying wasn't what anyone wanted well anyone that liked him, him coming 16th in the race due to him and Y/n fighting each other like some brocedes wannabe didn't help either

The radio messages that weekend were basically all bleeped out from the excessive use of profanity . It made yuki sound like a Saint and f1 twitter had a field day with it

Thankfully no one heard the conversations that went on in their driver rooms after the races because they were not nice in the slightest

"You're such a fucking bitch you do know that right?" Logan asked slamming the door behind him

"What because I'm better than you and you can't handle that?" She said with a smug smile on her face

"You ran me wide on that corner and made me go off track when you should've given me space" he fumed ( if that's even a word)

"Well maybe if you followed the racing line like any other normal fucking person I wouldn't have "ran you wide" " she spat back using air quotation marks

"God you think you're better than everyone else don't you"

"Oh yeah cause you don't think highly of yourself mr.god complex" Y/n said crossing her arms over her chest

"You're only personality trait is that you're a female f1 driver and you're only one because of all the men you dated to get here" now that was definitely the straw that broke the camels back . He could say whatever he wanted to her but  accusing her of nepotism was where this became more than some silly rivalry

"All the men I've dated to get here? Please enlighten me on these relationships because I sure as hell wasn't in them" she barked getting in his face

"Oh please we all know you and oscar had a thing , that's why you beat me in f2"

"Oh my god is that why you hate me so much ? Because your fragile masculinity can't stand the fact that a woman beat you" Y/n accused

"Here you go again playing the woman card, I don't like you for many other reasons" logan said despite not listing any aloud

"You're unbelievable logan" she said storming out of his drivers room slamming the door behind her . He knew he had gone too far but he doesn't know how to be anything other than mean to her

Once Oscar caught wind of the argument the two had he scolded them both and made them promise they'd apologise to each other but obviously that never happened because he was dumb enough to not make them do it while he was with them

Logan did get some repercussions for the comments he made to Y/n from Oscar because thats not how you speak to anyone and he said he wouldn't do it again , but truth be told he loved to see her riled up ( not that he'd ever admit that though)

"I can't believe you said she beat you because she was sleeping with me , Ive had a girlfriend since way before that point and I wouldn't go near her incase I ruin whatever two clearly have going on" Oscar half joked to his friend

"What are you on about dude?" Logan questioned a little grossed out at the thought

"The tension between you two that will definitely lead to at least a hate fuck by the end of the season" Oscar said while logan stared back at him blankly

"Abu Dhabi is the last race of the season though?"

"I'll make sure to leave you guys alone more often then"

"That is so not funny" he said trying to shake the image of them sleeping together out of his head

"Theres always the after party I know you two can get pretty wild after some drinks" Oscar said throwing them under the bus

"Do not speak that into the universe you dickhead" Y/n said walking into the room

"Oh yeah because I'm so into the idea myself.  Pretty sure it takes two to tango" logan remarked

"Shocked you know that seeing as you've been using your right hand the entirety of your life" she quipped

"Don't act like I haven't heard you and your devices through a hotel wall" logan teased

"Don't act like I couldn't hear you beating one out from the other side of that wall"

"Sorry to interrupt your dirty talk ; but you do realise you just admitted to basically wanking off to each other right?" Oscar intervened

"That is so not what I meant oscar" Y/n made clear

"Not that the same time mate, god I'd never be caught dead jacking it to her" logan defended

"I'm the only other American you know and you're the most patriotic person ever to exist so it wouldn't shock me if you did" she held back a laugh

"Has anyone ever told you you're not funny?" Logan asked as she gave him the finger and walked out

"You've seriously got to start being a bit nicer to each other , especially since we've got some post race press conference to go to" Oscar said walking out as logan trailed behind sighing

As everyone made their way to their seats for the second time that day , both Americans had calmed down after their lovers tiff and weren't as heated towards each other

When the questions got to Y/n she quietly sighed knowing what the questions would involve

"Okay question for Y/n how is it not only being one of the only Americans on the grid but also the only female driver on the grid?" She gave her usual answer that she couldn't answer for logan about what it's like to be one of the two Americans and that she has worked hard to get where she is now etc

"Another question for Y/n , how does it feel that you beat your fellow American by 5 points?" She wished they would stop comparing them just because they're from the same place , but answered the question in the nicest manner she could nonetheless which logan appreciated

The questions went down the line and soon it was logans turn , same as Y/n he was expecting to be asked about her and America

"So logan how does it feel to be beaten by your fellow American by 5 points?" The reporter asked

"Well it's not ideal obviously, but I felt like I was getting better towards the end of the season so who knows maybe next year I'll be beating her" he said looking at her to see if she was offended as he wasn't meaning to be

The questions were basically the same as Y/n had so he just copied her answers for most of them

Oscar and logan caught up after and spoke about how the season went for each of them and what they were doing during the winter break

"Thank god that's over" Y/n said waltzing over to the pair to see if they wanted to walk back to the hotel with her

"They need to get some new material ,do they think they have to ask about each other and America in every question" logan complained

"Tell me about it I've lost count" Y/n replied too tired to come up with some smart ass remark

"Do you guys want to go get dinner or something before we head back to the hotel?" Oscar jumped at the opportunity to get his best friends together for atleast a meal

"Sounds good to me"

"Yeah me too"

Thankfully, the walk to the nearest fast food restaurant wasn't that long . When they got the Americans were hounded by Oscar why they were nicer than usual not only in the press conference but also on the walk there , they blamed it on being tired and having enough of their pr officers being mad at them but Oscar knew the hate was starting to go away even if it was just a little bit

[klaprisun]

One Sunny Day

(Stardew Valley) (Haley x Female Farmer)

Chapter 5

TODAY is the day I am going to get groceries and seeds. Unless for some reason he is closed Thursdays now as well.

I lay in bed for a few more minutes before getting up and notice how sore I am already feeling. I groan and rise slowly out from the comfy blanket. I get up for another day of farm life and throw on the same. Exact. Overalls. I really need another pair or two if this is going to be my standard fit. However, I put on an old, red t-shirt which is more of a tank top now since I ripped the sleeves off in high school. I didn't like the way the sleeves constricted my biceps. I throw on a red ball cap to cover my unwashed hair that I threw back into a loose ponytail.

I begin my walk to town square once again. My legs are going to be ripped from all this walking. Scratch that, all of me is going to be ripped from the work I'm doing.

I slept in today, which means Pierre's should be open. I triple check the sign next to the door before even trying the door.

"It says it's open today. Hopefully my timing isn't wrong or something." I yank the handle of the building once again. This time, it opens.

I waltz inside and take a glance around. Shelves are jam packed in every spot you could put one without completely overlapping the other. The aisles are just big enough that nearly two people could fit back to back.

"I take it you tried to come here yesterday, Danny?" Gus chuckles as he heads over to me. "I noticed you triple checked the hours of operation."

"I sure did. Out of all the days I decided to come here it was on a Wednesday," I roll my eyes and smile.

"Happens to me all the time. I lose track of the days and bam, I show up on a Wednesday. But what can ya do? Allows me to get a good walk and keep these legs in shape," Gus looks down at his legs and back up at me. "You have a good day, now," he nods his head and exits through the glass door.

Carefully, navigating through the aisles, I begin to grab items I'll need for the farm. I had made sure to grab a basket from the stand near the entrance before so everything had been piling up in it.

My basket consists of parsnip, cauliflower, and potato seeds. As well as some bean starters.

"This should be enough to get me started," I mumble.

I saunter over to explore the groceries, filling my basket with everything I think I'll need in the next few days.

"Ugh, you again?"

The sudden voice causes me to spin around so fast I almost gave myself whiplash. It was Haley.

"Yes, me again. Can I not shop at Pierre's?" I snap back.

"I didn't say you couldn't. I'm just disappointed I have to see you again." She rolls her eyes and struts down the aisle closer to me.

Suddenly, I'm feeling flustered and forget what I am looking for. There is a long, awkward silence between us as we both scan the opposite shelves of the aisle. Oddly enough, she doesn't walk away.

"You look like a plumber by the way."

I snap my head back to look at her, "What does that mean?!"

We both start looking over my outfit. I don't know what part of a red shirt, red hat, and blue overalls is giving "plumber".

"Are those the same overalls from the last several times I have seen you?!" she gasps in disgust, turns her head, and pretends to gag.

"Yeah and what about it!?" I poke back childishly. I adjust the basket I'm holding to my other hand. Haley's eyes seem to light up as she seemingly watches my arms as I transfer the basket between hands. Her eyes flicker back up to meet my gaze and she blushes and turns away. I look at my arms to see if I have dirt or mud on them. There is not even a speck.

She sheepishly turns back to the shelf once again. I continue to forget what I am looking for and scan the shelves up and down until I find whatever it is. I hear a few noises from Haley fumbling with the items on the shelf behind me. That is, until I hear a can hit the ground and notice it roll to my feet in front of me.

When I turn around this time, her feet are stepping on the lowest shelf while her one hand is stretched upward to the top shelf. She senses me looking at her in confusion and turns to get down too quickly. Her ankle rolls as she tries to step off the bottom shelf which causes her to stumble and nearly fall. Actually, she would've fully fallen if it wasn't for me standing nearby. She involuntarily latched onto my arm to stop herself from falling all the way to the ground.

Haley realizes what she is doing after a moment and shoots right back up. To save face, she shoots me a scowl and just says, "ew," while brushing her hands on her pink skirt as if I'm just that dirty. To her dismay, her cheeks are flushed pink so anything she is trying to do to insult me is not working.

"Do you need some help there, pretty lady?" I tease. Her cheeks go bright red now instead of just the light pink. It's fun rubbing it in more when she is already flustered.

Since I am significantly taller than the little rat, I reach up to grab the item she was aiming for. She watches in silence with her arms crossed and while tapping her foot rapidly against the ground.

As I toss the item into her basket, I meet her gaze. I am so much taller than her, that she has to crane her neck to look me in the eyes. She is shorter than the average person. I am just sightly above average height.

She squints her eyes in annoyance and looks away. We both go to leave the aisle finally, but walk in the opposite direction of the other. Causing us to crash shoulders.

"Watch it you big lug," She hisses while unapologetically looking me up and down the same way she did in the saloon. My face suddenly goes warm as if I am blushing. I notice her smirk which signals that must be the case.

We try leaving once again, but manage to get past one another this time. She shoots me an unreadable look over her shoulder as she turns the corner to the next aisle.

What is this woman's deal? I say in my head. Shaking my head, I carry on with shopping. I hear the bell above the door ding meaning Haley must've just left. I walk over to the guy behind the counter with my stuff in the basket and let him start scanning.

"Well if it isn't Miss Danny, the new farmer! I'm Pierre, owner of this wonderful, local general store. I see you've found the seeds! A little agriculture could really inject new life into the local economy. My wife, Caroline, and I have been dying to meet you. We hear you have already met our daughter Abigail?"

"Yeah at the saloon the other day. Her and her friends were hanging out in the arcade when I went for dinner," I reply.

"That's great! I hope you enjoy living here. It may get boring at times, but trust me when I say the next day will be an interesting one!"

Pierre finishes up scanning and bagging my items. After saying my goodbyes, I am on my way back home to figure out what to do with, and where to put all my groceries. I don't exactly have an oven, or fridge...or a kitchen in general.

[byoldervine]

What's your routine when it comes to writing?

I’m literally just writing everything I can think of because I don’t know if I have a routine exactly but hopefully something here answers your question

My writing goal is 1K words per week, and I’ve been able to keep up with this since the start of this year. It’s not much, but it gives me a minimum amount of consistent progress without burning me out, which is incredibly helpful

I work Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Fridays, so I get most of my writing done outside of that, and then Mondays are usually busy for me so it’s up in the air how much writing I’ll get done that day. For the last few weeks I’ll write a little on Monday, then get the bulk of it done on Thursday and/or Saturday, which leaves Sunday free

I can’t have too many background distractions or I’ll zero in on that even if I’m not interested in it, but I find I work best with quiet background noise of some variety to ensure I’m not understimulated. My favourites tend to be a writing sprint video I love and custom soundpads I’ve made on TableTop Audio, which allows you to easily create soundscapes for whatever setting it is you’re writing about

I like writing on my laptop more than anything, with one tab being my writing and another being my notes. Any tabs that aren’t related to my writing need to be closed or they get too tempting. I cannot use my phone to research in this time or I will definitely get distracted

I work from two locations; in my bed or in the living room set up on the recliner. Both locations involve open curtains and blinds for natural light and a blanket over my lap while I write. I even have a dedicated writing blanket which has largely been taken over by my dogs, who will snuggle up whenever I get it out. I have to frequently stop them from laying their heads on my keyboard and creating shortcuts

If it’s a good motivation day or I’m at a point where I need to write a lot today or I won’t meet my deadlines, I’ll put on the writing sprint video and work within those parameters; 25 minutes writing, 5 minutes taking a break, repeat three more times. This is what got me through NaNoWriMo

Otherwise, I’ll turn on my soundscapes and tell myself I’ll just write for ten minutes and then I can stop if I want to. After ten minutes my brain wants to at least finish the part it’s on, and then I question if I want to keep going. Usually the answer is yes, so I’ll keep going. If I get to a point where my interest is starting to wane, I’ll tell myself to give it another ten minutes, and if I’m still disinterested I quit for the time being

After I’ve finished my weekly goal, I always try to reward myself with a snack or something fun. Lately the desired treat has been chocolate chip muffins

Once I’ve hit the goal and am no longer writing, I tend not to pick it up again until the next week because my brain thinks ‘well anything I write now won’t count to my immediate goals, so why bother?’ even though logically it’ll mean less of these sessions in the future. I do usually get at least 1100 words each week though, and I’d say my average is around 1200-1500, so I’m not too worried about that. I don’t mind so much if this all takes me a long time, it’s all for fun anyway

[capitalisticveins]

Guy meeting Honey Headcanons (Ft. Geordi)

i REALLY wanted to write this as a oneshot but I can’t write oneshots, so hopefully this isn’t bad? It’s also my first time writing dialogue so go easy on me? Maybe? Constructive criticism is encouraged, and GENERAL headcanons will either. be released tonight or tomorrow since I still have to write DAMN headcanons

Also this features the headcanon that “Geordi and Guy are friends”

- Okay well to start these off

- Guy and Honey attended the same college within the same year, but neither ever noticed each other

- Until Honey and their “friends” (Honey would call them acquaintances) ordered a pizza while having a sleepover

- Guy, wanting a little more pay, took the order and drove over to the designated address

- Honey was busy complaining to their friends about how expensive the pizza was compared to another pizzeria’s pizza, but they already ordered it, so it’s not like they could cancel it

- Even though they very much could

- Guy eventually made it to the address after 15 minutes, and rang the bell

- One of Honey’s friends piped up and said “Since you’re not willing to play Smash with us, why don’t you get the pizza?

- It was supposed to be a joke, but Honey was willing to do it if it meant they didn’t have to hear anyone else yell about falling off the stage

- Honey gathered the money, still muttering about “expensive and shitty pizza”. Although they were going to tip the delivery guy because it was a quick delivery.

- When the door opened, Guy couldn’t help but stare at the absolutely gorgeous sight displayed in front of him. Honey hadn’t looked at him yet, making sure they had the right amount of money

- “It’s $31.89, right? Seems pretty expensive, especially for 2 boxes of pizza.” Honey couldn’t help but unconsciously pout, which only made Guy blush a tad bit harder.

- “Uh, no! No it’s actually just uh, $15! We’re currently, uh, having a discount on Thursdays so it’s just $15.” His lie wasn’t obvious, but it was ridiculous.

- “Really?” Honey looked at him for the first time, and took the tie to stop counting the money to look for any hint of a joke on his face. “But the lady on the phone said-”

- “Oh she’s new, she doesn’t know about the discounts, we’ll look into it, but yeah it’s a small $15 for tonight!” Guy hated how awkward he was being, but as long as this was the only time he’d have to interact with them, it’s fine.

- But he didn’t want this to be the last time he spoke to them! He delivered to attractive people before, but this was a whole new level of wow. 

- Honey was a bit more content that the pizza was cheaper than they thought, and paid for it without any more complaint, even giving him a $7 tip for telling them about the discount.

- Guy stood at the door for a solid 2 minutes after it shut, still in awe at the person he just saw. 

- ‘What was their name? Are they single? Oh GOD, are they my age or are they some super old person obsessed with looking young?’

- Thoughts raced around his head like a train, until he realized he had to cover the other $16 they didn’t pay because of him.

- The next day, Guy was ranting to his friend about the person he delivered to, describing their appearance as if it were from a poem

- Geordi, his friend, raised an eyebrow and questioned him, “You mean Honey?”

- Guy was surprised Geordi knew someone who fit his description, or in the least knew their name. “Who’s Honey?”

- Geordi looked around the hallway swiftly before pointing to his left. “Them.”

- He glanced to the direction Geordi pointed at, yet only saw a crowd around a locker, before noticing the person from last night being inside of the crowd, opening their locker and chatting with one of their friends, a tiny smile evident on their face

- Guy was in shock with his face read ‘They’re HERE? Then they must be my age. Why is that what I’m worried about, what if I make a fool of myself? What if they don’t remember me? Well no SHIT they don’t remember me I’m just a pizza guy from last night!’

- Geordi, being a chronic overthinker, noticed Guy’s mind was running a mile a minute, and snapped his fingers in front of Guy’s face

- “Y’know you could just…talk to them, right? Honey’s a little off-putting from what I’ve heard, but they’re still just another person here.” Geordi wasn’t lying, Honey usually has a RBF towards anyone they didn’t know- scratch that, Honey usually has a RBF towards everyone, but they were just another student that attended the university, even they knew that.

- “Talk to them? TALK TO THEM?” Guy said that last part a little louder than he wished, so he began to whisper the rest.

- “I can’t just talk to them! I’m not someone you just casually talk to, not even you talk to me casually. How do I even talk to them? Just go up like a 5 year old and ask to be friends?” He whisper-yelled in Geordi’s direction. Geordi would’ve flinched at the tone if Guy wasn’t his panicking best friend of 4 years

- Geordi took a moment to think before responding. “Well, Honey’s a smart person, maybe they’re a tutor? That way you could find a reason to talk to them and get some help with your classes. Lord knows you need the help.”

- Guy chuckled at the joke, or at least he hoped it was.

Taglist: @niyahbear

This took hours to write so part 2 to the meeting will be released within a week

[elisela]

read until end omg check please / nurseydex / au for @missanniewhimsy who has been waiting for this fic since the wild beat the caps in march, whoops .

Apparently, being a writer doesn’t pay the bills.

Yet.

Derek always likes to tack that on there. Being a writer doesn’t pay the bills yet, because it will. One day. Hopefully not in the far-off future because he’s got high hopes of moving out of the closet his landlord calls a studio in Flatbush, but that would require several things to happen first, like finishing a manuscript.

He’s working on it.

Turns out that while writing in college had been fairly easy for him, making time to write in between the dead-end jobs that pay the bills when he had no energy left for anything that wasn’t staring blankly at moving pictures on a screen wasn’t so simple. And thanks to the endless parade of dead-end jobs—barista, ticket seller at an off-off-off Broadway theater, cashier—he rarely had an entire day off to devote to finishing the last three chapters of his book.

And when he does get a day off, miracle of miracles, he goes and does stupid things like says yes when his friend asks if he can please, pretty please (with a cherry on top) cover for him this weekend. So instead of burying his face in his computer and a gallon of coffee, he’s out here at the Flatbush farmer’s market, sitting underneath a stark white tent surrounded by books that no one’s so much as glanced at in the last forty-five minutes.

The pies have been flying off the table. Bitty’s in no danger of not making a profit today and Derek’s pretty sure he’ll have to erase the last two flavors—peach and strawberry rhubarb—from the board any second, but the books.

No one’s even looked at the books, despite the large sign declaring them free.

He doesn’t even know why Bitty has them. Well, he knows why—because Eric Bittle has never been able to say no when faced with his sweet old neighbor dropping off anything at his door, let alone seven full boxes of books that she claimed she couldn’t take with her to the retirement home. What he doesn’t know is why Bitty couldn’t just turn around and take them to the nearest donation center. They look out of place in the tent that had been filled with baked goods, and Derek doesn’t blame anyone for looking right past them.

He’s not looking forward to packing them all back up at the market’s end, but at least he won’t ever have to bother with it again.

—

Of course, where Bitty can’t say no to sweet old ladies, Derek apparently can’t say no to Bitty and his big pleading eyes. So when he calls again on Wednesday night—talking so quickly that the words blend together—Derek ends up right back at the market with the books.

The Thursday crowd is calmer than they had been on Saturday, which is both a blessing and a curse. It means Derek’s not on his feet the entire time, but there’s only so much people-watching he can do before he goes crazy. It’s basically inevitable that he picks up the nearest book, despite its god-awful cover, and starts reading.

And reading.

He has to set it down every few pages to smile charmingly at people wandering by and make small talk—no, he’s not the baker, that’s a friend of his … oh yes, everything from scratch, you wanted gluten-free? Right over there in the blue boxes—and it's during one of those conversations that he hits on an idea. 

“Wouldn’t it be nice to spend a quiet afternoon reading and eating pie?” a woman asks her friend as Derek loads up a paper bag with her purchases. 

“Feel free to take as many as you want,” he says, and watches as she reaches towards the pile and hesitates.

“They don’t really look like my thing, but thanks,” she says. They leave without another word and he hardly sees them go. They didn’t look like his thing either, but the one he’d picked up was good, and—

It doesn’t take much to rip a paper bag in half and rustle up a tape dispenser and marker from Bitty’s supply bag. He spends a few free minutes sorting through the books on the table, setting aside a few that look promising, and then googles reviews on his phone as he wraps them up. All it takes is writing a few generic, key phrases on the paper before he scatters them carefully throughout the boxes of pies and sits back in his seat.

The books fly off the table after that, so quickly that Derek’s previously chill afternoon is now spent feverishly wrapping in between schmoozing and doing the job Bitty is paying him in baked goods to do. Closing comes as a relief this time for a different reason, and he’s just starting to pack the remaining books back into boxes when a shadow falls over the table.

“No more blackberry?” someone asks, and Derek almost snorts. He’s been out of pies for nearly an hour, he’d only stayed to get rid of some more of the books. 

“Sorry man,” he says, glancing up—a mistake. Derek’s always been a sucker for redheads, and the setting sun has cast a glow that makes his hair shine nearly golden. “No more anything.”

The man’s face falls, and Derek’s heart along with it. 

“Come back next week, I’ll make sure you get one,” he says before he can stop to think about all the things wrong with that sentence, starting with the fact he won’t be there. 

The guy’s fingers trail over one of the wrapped books Derek hadn’t yet put away. “Magical realism,” he says, sounding amused and more than a little dismissive. “Never really got the point.”

Derek straightens up at that and looks across the almost-empty table. “Sounds like you haven’t read any,” he says, and reaches over to push the book closer with two fingers. “Should try it before you make up your mind.”

The man grins at him, crooked but sure. “Too late for that.”

—

The next Thursday morning finds Derek wishing he’d never been born as he listens to Bitty repeat every word of their conversation to Jack, only to come back on the line to say, “You can come along, Sugar, but this I’ve got to see.”

A few more minutes of cajoling Bitty gets him nowhere, and, already resigned to his fate, he fires off a text to Jack. 

I’ll give you $20 if you convince him to stay home.

It doesn’t take long for Jack to respond. This is excessive, especially for you.

The day is nice, at least, and Bitty running his own booth does mean that Derek is kept well fed and can hide behind his laptop screen. He’s writing in the sense that he deletes two out of every three sentences he comes up with but it’s more than he’s produced in the last month, so he’ll take it. He’d definitely be more productive elsewhere, but being elsewhere would mean that he couldn’t glance up and down the street every forty-five seconds hoping to catch a glimpse of bright red hair, so he stays. The constant tapping at the keys earns him proud looks from Bitty, who seems to think he’s getting much more done than he really is. 

Derek doesn’t dissuade him of that notion.

It figures that the man he’s been idly thinking about all week comes up at the exact time that Derek’s zoned in, fingers punching out sentences he’ll no doubt hate the next day. It takes Bitty poking his shoulder to realize it, blinking at the slight disorientation of the sun being in a completely different spot than he remembered—shining right into his eyes—and being addressed with a question.

“—says you saved him a blackberry pie?”

Bitty’s blinking in a manner that is likely supposed to look innocent and misses it by a mile. He knows perfectly well the pie in question is resting in a bag at Derek’s feet, because he’d put it there himself. 

Derek stares back at him. If Bitty’s going to insist on intervening, Derek’s not going to make it easy for him.

“For heaven’s—” Bitty mutters, and turns a sparkling smile on the man as he reaches down. “Sorry, Will. Derek just gets so focused sometimes, it’s like he’s on another planet. You know how writers are.”

“I really don’t,” the man—Will—says, but he’s grinning as he looks at Derek. “Thanks for saving that for me. My shift ends too late for me to get over here any earlier.”

“All good,” Derek says. His back, which has not appreciated the last several hours molded to a metal folding chair, chooses that second to twinge. He shifts and stretches, and catches Will’s eyes dropping to his torso as he does. “I saved you something else, too.”

Bitty had given up on giving away the books—Derek was mostly certain that was Jack’s doing—but he’d had brought what he’d needed along. He takes the immaculately wrapped book out of his backpack and passes it over, forcing himself to keep a straight face as Will’s eyes scan the bullet points. Sword fights, he’d written at the top, followed by patricide and descriptions of food so good that you’ll need at least five snacks while you read.

Magical realism had been conveniently left out.

Will grins, his shoulders shaking with a short laugh. “I’m not much of a reader.”

That’s—almost a deal-breaker, and Bitty seems to know it by the way he jolts into action. “Five snacks—well, you’ve already got the pie but I’ve got some of these cookies I’ve been testing, they’re missing a little something but I haven’t figured out what. Take some and come back next week and tell me what you think. And if you go to Justin over there—he’s got the best salsa, just tell him Eric sent you and he’ll toss in some chips. Derek, sugar, would you go get the peaches that Chris is holding for me and start loading them in my car?”

He looks over at Will—already biting into one of the cookies Bitty had almost thrown at him—and winks. “Enjoy.”

The reader comment can be forgiven by the way two identical patches of red immediately bloom on Will’s cheeks.

—

It takes just a few days for Derek to get a text from an unknown number on his phone.

Still isn’t my thing.

You read until the end, Derek writes back. He’d written his number on the fifth to last page—just far enough from the end that it probably wouldn’t be seen if someone was just flipping through.

Only because I kept expecting it to get better.

He taps the back of his phone, ignoring how Jack jostles him when he squeezes his way onto the couch, tossing a bag of chips down on the coffee table as the theme to Hockey Night in Canada plays. We can hit up the bookstore, he finally types in. I’ll find something you like. Cornerstone, Thursday at 7.

Three dots appear and disappear so often that Derek is sure Will is trying to find a polite way to turn him down. What he gets instead, however, is—It’s a date.

--

(And they lived happily ever after the end)

[loveroftoomanyfandoms]

A Little Angel (Or Devil?) Chapter 2

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Story Summary: Matt and Reader, happily married at the end of Angel of God, my Guardian Dear, start the next chapter in their life together -- parenthood.

Warnings/Tags: Smut, Unprotected Sex (I mean obviously, Matt and Reader are trying for a baby), Pregnancy and all the fun stuff that comes with it (sarcastic), no graphic depiction of childbirth

Word Count: ~1600

A/N: Warning for folks with emetophobia for this chapter!

Tag List: @nommingonfood

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged!

Matt whistled cheerfully as he walked home from the office a few weeks later. He had just wrapped up a case for an affluent client which meant that the firm was going to be able to keep the lights on for another few months, Foggy had told him that he had finally asked Karen out on a date, and it was Thursday, which meant that he and Y/N would be spending the weekend breaking in the new living room furniture that would be arriving Saturday morning.

He walked up the steps to his and Y/N’s house and unlocked the door, frowning when he was greeted with silence. 

Normally on the days Y/N arrived home before Matt he would hear her getting started on dinner in the kitchen or at the very least moving around upstairs, but today there was no sound. 

Matt stepped further into the foyer, trying to remember if Y/N had told him that she had made plans with Jessica for after work. “Y/N? You home, angel?”

He tilted his head as he heard the slow, steady rhythm of Y/N’s heartbeat coming from the back of the house.

He headed down the hall towards the dining room. “Sweetheart?”

He paused as he reached the garden room and realized that Y/N was fast asleep on the couch.

He crept closer to her and knelt on the floor, gently brushing his hand across her forehead and frowning when she felt a bit warmer than usual. “Y/N? Angel?”

Y/N stirred and let out a soft sigh. “Matty?”

Matt nodded. “Yeah, sweetheart, it's me.”

“What time is it?”

“About 7:15.”

Y/N groaned and sat up. “Shit, I'm sorry, honey. I wasn't feeling well after I got home from work so I laid down in here for just a second. I must've fallen asleep. ”

Matt's brow furrowed at the weak sound of her voice. “You okay, angel?”

“Mm mmm.” Y/N sighed. “I feel drained. Hope I'm not coming down with something.”

Matt felt Y/N's forehead again. “You do feel a bit warm. Maybe you should take tomorrow off to rest.”

Y/N shook her head. "I can't, I have that --"

She suddenly cut herself off and jumped up, running through the dining room towards the first floor bathroom.

Matt winced at the sound of Y/N throwing up and followed, pausing at the doorway. “You okay, angel?”

Y/N groaned from where she was hunched over the toilet. “Maybe you're right. Maybe I should take tomorrow off to rest.”

Matt entered the bathroom and knelt down next to Y/N, reaching his hand out to rub her back soothingly. “I'm sorry you're not feeling well, sweetheart.”

“Ugh, this is the worst time for me to have to be sick. I'm supposed to be recording the audio version of our newsletter tomorrow morning, plus we're gearing up for the start of summer reading next week.”

Matt shook his head. “Your health is more important. Hopefully you'll be feeling better and can do the newsletter in a few days, otherwise I'm sure someone else can fill in. In the meantime you need rest.”

“Mmm.”

Matt went to the kitchen and filled a glass with some water before bringing it to Y/N. “Here, you need to stay hydrated if you're throwing up.”

Y/N hummed. “Thanks, Matty.” 

She took the glass from Matt and swished some water around in her mouth before spitting it into the toilet, then took a cautious sip. “Ugh.”

“Better?”

“Little bit. Thanks, honey.” Y/N took another sip of water. “Maybe I should sleep downstairs for a few days. I don't want to give you whatever this is I've got.”

Matt shook his head. “We've already been in extremely close contact so if whatever you have is contagious chances are I've already caught it. Luckily though, I've got a pretty strong immune system so if I haven't already gotten sick I'll probably be fine.”

He went to help Y/N up. “Besides, what kind of husband would I be if I didn't take care of my wife in her time of need? After all, our wedding vows did say ‘in sickness and in health’.”

Y/N leaned against him. “I love you, you know that?”

Matt planted a kiss on her forehead. “I love you too. Now, we're gonna get you in bed, then I'm gonna go get you some chicken soup.”

Y/N hummed. “Could I have some egg drop soup from the Chinese restaurant on the corner instead?”

Matt chuckled. “Of course, angel. I'll call in a delivery order for dinner, how about that?”

Y/N nodded against him. “Okay.”

Matt helped Y/N up the stairs to their bedroom and paused in their doorway. “Want to shower first?”

Y/N hummed. “Yeah, that might help.”

Matt nodded. “Okay, you go do that, I'll order our food.”

“Okay.”

Matt called in their delivery order while Y/N gathered her pajamas, then waited until she had headed into the bathroom before making a second call. 

“Mr. Murdock?” said the voice on the other end.

“Yeah, kid, it's me,” Matt replied. “Are you going to be patrolling tonight?”

“Yeah, I was planning on it. Why?”

“I was wondering if you could make a couple of passes around the Kitchen for me. Something came up so I'm staying in.”

“Everything okay?”

Matt winced as he heard Y/N throwing up again. “Yeah, it's just that my wife's not feeling well and I don't want to leave her home alone.”

“Oh, okay, it's no problem, Mr. Murdock, I can do that for you. And I hope Mrs. Murdock feels better soon.”

Matt nodded. “Thanks, Peter, I owe you one.”

“Okay, talk to you later!”

“Bye.”

Matt hung up then texted Foggy as the shower turned on. Working from home tomorrow. Y/N’s sick.

Oh no, was Foggy's reply. Hope she feels better soon. Let me know if you two need anything. 

Thanks. Will do.

He put his phone away and headed downstairs, the scent of Chinese food wafting towards him as their delivery order neared.

He grabbed two bottles of water out of the refrigerator, waited until the delivery person rang the doorbell, then accepted the order and took it upstairs, setting it on the dresser as Y/N walked out of the bathroom.

Matt turned towards her. “Feeling better?”

Y/N hummed. “I think so.”

Matt gave her a kiss, tasting the slightly minty flavor of toothpaste on Y/N’s lips. “You get settled in bed and I'll bring your soup to you, okay?”

“Okay.”

Matt set his takeout container on his nightstand along with one of the bottles of water before handing Y/N her soup. “Here you go, angel.”

Y/N gave an appreciative hum. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

Matt set the other bottle of water on Y/N’s nightstand along with an extra bottle of ginger ale he had added to their food order. “Here, I'm hoping the soup and ginger ale settle your stomach.”

He moved to his side of the bed to eat, keeping his attention on Y/N in case she got sick again.

Once Y/N was finished, he took her empty container. “Feeling ok so far?”

Y/N was quiet for a moment. “Yeah, it's staying down.”

Matt nodded. “Okay, good. Let me go take care of this stuff, I'll be right back.”

He ran downstairs, rinsing out their containers before placing them in the recycling bin.

He headed back upstairs, grabbing a clean pair of boxers from the dresser. “I'm gonna go grab a quick shower. Need anything?”

“Mm mmm.” Y/N shifted against the bedsheets as she settled in. “Tired.”

“Okay. Be right back.”

Matt hurried through showering and brushing his teeth then headed back into the bedroom, climbing into bed next to Y/N. 

He wrapped his arms around her and leaned back, pulling her to him. “Come here, sweetheart.”

Y/N snuggled up to him. “You aren't going out Daredeviling tonight?”

Matt shook his head. “No, not tonight. I asked Spiderman to keep an eye out for me in case anything pops up, and I also told Foggy I was working from home tomorrow. You're my number one priority, angel, I'm not going to leave you here alone when you're not feeling well.”

“Thank you, Matty.” Y/N nuzzled her nose into Matt's chest. “Mmm, you smell good.”

Matt chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Get some rest, okay? I'm not going anywhere.”

Y/N nodded. “Mmhmm.”

Matt gently stroked her hair until her breathing turned deep and even.

After she was asleep he slowly reached over and pulled his ear buds out of his nightstand drawer, then connected them to his phone so the noise wouldn't disturb Y/N.

Matt had sworn back when he and Y/N were kids that he would always do anything and everything he possibly could to take care of her when she wasn't feeling well. I'll always take care of you, Y/N, he had said the time Y/N had been ill with the flu when she was 14 and Matt had been 15. That's what best friends are for.

He opened the online ordering app for the grocers a couple of blocks over and ordered the ingredients for homemade chicken soup along with some peppermint herbal tea for delivery the following morning in case Y/N still wasn't feeling well.

He put his phone and earbuds away then settled in to sleep. He just hoped that Y/N felt better soon.

[aprilias]

Just for my own documentation (and anyone else’s if they want it) here’s a summary of Thursday at Silverstone. This is going under the cut because while this is a summary, I myself cannot summarise the words lmao.

The basics/area/idk how to describe it:

- Arriving at the track it really feels like more people are here for Thursday than last year (hopefully this continues for the weekend since this is regularly not a well attended race in comparison).

- There was also so many people wearing different merch whereas the last 2 years have been pretty much Marc and Vale. Fabio I think actually looked the most popular this year, but there was a surprising amount of Martin fans.

- The one thing I’m disappointed about is that last year they changed the bit around the fanzone from grass to gravel and it’s the same this year. It makes it a lot more inaccessible and its so difficult to get to the activities and stuff.

- In fact I think they changed the layout way more this year but it was still fine, just weird that they don’t want us touching grass lol.

- The fans as a whole behaved well but there were a few people that were rude, not necessarily towards the riders but towards other fans.

The paddock:

- The paddock opened at 11 but the queue started at like half past 10, but it really didn’t take long to get in so it was fine. It was ridiculously hot though.

- The paddock itself is massive, but for the GP teams its too small unlike the old layout. They’ve had to add a secondary part at the back for some of the smaller teams in Moto2/3 for their hospitality and motor homes.

- They didn’t have anywhere to get drinks in the paddock unlike last year. We wouldve had to leave to get drinks but luckily we bought water and they had refilling stations.

- We wanted to get to the pitlane for the bike reveals and the queue was… well just absolutely ridiculous to put it mildly. We decided to skip it which was sad but we got to watch the reveals on the screen (Yamaha and Pramac won for me and I love Trackhouse’s too).

The auction:

- The auction is so fun. Basically all the riders put something of theirs, for example a knee slider or boots or something, and then people bid (slightly ridiculous) amounts of money for them for the two wheels for life.

- Joe Roberts was brought on stage and he was giving away part of his race winning bike from mugello??? They got 4k for it.

- Jake Dixon was there on stage but he was ill. He brought Summer (his daughter) out on stage and she waved at all of us which was so cute.

- The auctioned a Prosecco bottle that was signed by Johann Zarco, Jack Miller and wait for it…. Pecco Bagnaia. No one else seemed to care how ironic that was but I burst out laughing.

- Johann Zarco talks a lot. By a lot I mean he may as well have presented the auction himself. That’s all I can say about the MotoGP riders that I didn’t know already.

- Actually I just want to say that Fabio seems really shy and reserved but he knows how to work a crowd. The British crowd absolutely love both him and Rins but I genuinely think he’s the best supported rider here, maybe even more than Marc.

- He also did the auction for his boots which was absolutely hilarious. He wanted to buy them himself too but got outbidded 😭

- Also Remy kind of said on stage that it appears he will be doing another year of WSBK with Yamaha!!!!!

- We left early because of the rain but it was so fun, if I had money then I would’ve been bidding on stuff but it was fun regardless.

The riders (and team people i suppose):

- Met the Moto3 baby goats extremely early and David and Collin are both lovely and so polite too.

- Ran into Massimo Rivola. I have a picture with him and he smiled at me when he saw I was wearing Aprilia merch. Also found Pablo Nieto and Frankie Carchedi and said hello to Nadia Padovani.

- My friend saw Somkiat in the motorhome and shouted at him, and he kind of jumped and pointed but he came down for a chat and a photo. Again, he is probably one of the, if not the, nicest person in the whole paddock.

- Found Celestino and again he is so nice but also comes across as really shy. I actually told him he was my favourite out of everyone and he seemed really grateful for it (unless he thought I was crazy which is also possible).

- Saw somebody who I thought was J.A. Rueda but I’m not 100% sure. Also ran into both Senna Agius and Jeremy Alcoba and when I tell you those boys look the same its crazy.

- Saw Albert and had to stop myself from apologising that I jinx him every weekend. Also a great guy it seems and we saw him a few more times after that.

- Not saying it’s necessarily him all the time but it’s two years in a row I’ve had a very negative experience of a certain #1. Never said hello or anything when people said it to him, unlike literally every other rider (yes including Fabio and Marc and any other person you want to try a pull a gotcha card on).

- I need to issue a public apology to Jorge Martin because I saw him on his scooter and shouted “Hola Jorge” from a distance and following that he got swamped. He’s not off the shit list but he was actually a nice guy. I also asked if he could sign anything Aprilia yet (thought I’d ask because i had my pen and cap) and he smiled and said not this time.

- I have had skin-on-skin contact with Fabio (not even out of context: he touched my arm while I was helping him escape on the scooter from a crowd).

- I didn’t see him but my friend did and the good news is for the first time in two years Pedro has arrived at Silverstone not on crutches!!!

- Saw Maverick, Aleix and Enea (who was walking back and forth around Aprilia for some reason). They were down the opposite end to all of us but all smiled and waved. Maverick disappeared somewhere so I’m pretty sure he’s a wizard.

- Found Luca who was lovely again. Also Miguel who said he has given up dentistry now!! Again lovely and stopped for as many as he could, as did Bezz.

- We stopped to get some shade, which conveniently ended up being outside the Yamaha hospitality. Got a picture with Remy and I got thrown off because he was speaking perfect Italian to someone.

- Saw Sarah (Jake’s wife) and we said good luck to him for the weekend, and we asked where he was but she told us he was ill (which you could tell from the auction lol)

- David Muñoz was laughing at everyone queueing for and just sat there on his bike.

- Saw Ai and he was really patient because I could not get the camera to work. Again such a lovely guy and in case anyone was curious: he and Somkiat are still really good friends and Somkiat was riding Ai around on the same scooter so they’re still cool.

- I said it earlier but favourite rider of the day: Tony Arbolino aka loml. I cannot even tell you how nice he is because that deserves a post in itself. He was so happy I had his cap that he thanked me before I could thank him for signing it (his signature is interesting to say the least lmao I put the picture so you be the judge). Also some man offered to take our picture but I didn’t realise and I’m fairly confident it was his manager.

So yeah this was basically my day. If you wanna ask about any other riders cause I saw so many (the ones I’ve mentioned are the ones I have pictures with or of) then feel free to ask but yes 11/10 day, would recommend it to everyone. Hopefully we have a good weekend to follow!

[umlewis]

lewis hamilton, p1, is interviewed during the post-race press conference [part 3/3], britain - july 7, 2024 (transcript under the cut)

NOT SHOWN: Journalist: "Justin Allen, The Sun. Just a light-hearted question for all three of you, if I may. Obviously this is the start of a massive week of Dutch-English rivalry, with a certain football match on Thursday night. Can I just ask the three of you, are you looking forward to the match, and where are you going to be watching it, and what words of advice or encouragement would you give to your respective teams?" Lewis: "To the Brits, I think yesterday was a really good showing. It was a really great time today, or this weekend, for British sports. And the penalties, obviously, were amazing last night. I actually have never sat… I've been in a pub, growing up, watching a match, but sitting last night, watching with twenty-plus thousand people was really, really incredible, and I'm grateful I had that experience with George. And then, yeah, I think really just we all wished them the best. I'm sure they will want to play better and they will know what they need to do. They will know that they will probably want to elevate their game. And lots of learnings from every single game, just as like we have from every single race, so I will be with them and I'm sure everyone will be out in full force." [time jump] Journalist: "Ben Hunt, Autosport. Question for Lewis: You mentioned the emotion and never crying before. Do you think this is part of the healing process? So after what happened in '21, this is the final piece in the jigsaw to help you get over what happened there, to compartmentalize it and be able to move on?" Lewis: "I mean, I think there's a long-winded question. [long pause] I think only time will tell. What I can say is that I'm not giving up. I feel like I'm making the right decisions with my life, with how I prepare and how I manage my time; the decision I've taken, for example, for next year, the commitment I still have to this team, and the love that I still have for this team, and the love that I still have for my job. I really, really love this job, and there's never going to be anything that comes close to it, and it's something I'm incredibly grateful for, to be in amongst these twenty drivers, within this great sport that's having such a momentous time. We just had the launch of the trailer of the movie today. I do hope… Honestly, when I came back in 2022, I thought that I was over it, and I know I wasn't, and it's taken a long time, for sure, to heal that kind of feeling. And that's only natural for anyone that has that experience, and I've just been continuing to try and work on myself and find that inner peace, day by day."

Interviewer: "Thank you. More?" Journalist: "Tom Carey, Telegraph. Another one for Lewis: Obviously we know how much you're looking forward to going to Ferrari next year. It's going to be an amazing move for you. But is there an element of bittersweet, winning that with a team based locally in Brackley in front of your home fans and realizing how much you're giving up, leaving them just as they're coming back to the front, as well?" Lewis: "No. I think when we started the season and we had a car where we weren't going anywhere near Red Bull, for example, anywhere near looking like we would ever get a win through the year, that, for me, felt like it would be kind of bittersweet at the end of the season, where you've not had something like today. And the fact that we've really all come together… Everyone's done such a great job to get the car into a place where we're feeling much more comfortable, and really changes from the foundation from last year. So not leaving on a low, but leaving on a high, which has been our goal. There's still a long, long way to go, but the car… And by no means is the car the quickest car on the grid right now. I think we are super close and I think hopefully with the next upgrade perhaps we will be in an even stronger position to really, really be fighting for the front row more consistently." Interviewer: "Thank you. Yes?" Journalist: "Tim Hauraney, TSN. Question for Lewis: Lewis, congratulations. We've seen you win a lot over your career. Given where the car started at the beginning of the season, and then also this being your last time around with Mercedes, where does this victory stand for you?" Lewis: "Well, you know I have a really bad memory, but, honestly, I'm really very much about living in the present, and this does feel… I don't feel like I'm able to compare this one to any other, to be honest. I had so many great moments, and moments where I didn't think that I was going to be able to win, like the first grand prix win here in 2008. I qualified terribly… Well, P4, but it felt like I wasn't in with a shot to winning the grand prix, and then it rained, and obviously I had that great feeling.

So many moments, through the… I think being at your home grand prix… That's the longest stint that I've not had a win, 945 days, and the emotion that's accumulated over that time… So this one could be one of the most special ones for me, I think, if not the most special one." Interviewer: "Thank you. Yes! Another one." Journalist: "Hi! Weian Mao, Formula Vision. A question for Lewis: On this weekend, 1954, Mercedes scored its first Formula 1 victory. Just want to share your thoughts on this aspect. Also, as we know, you are moving onto Ferrari next year, but in the future, maybe do you still have some unfinished stories with Mercedes off-track, maybe?" Lewis: "Well… 1954? I mean, what car… That would have been in the W197, maybe? I can't remember which car that would have been. But yeah, the heritage at Mercedes is legendary, and I'm very fortunate to have been a part of Mercedes for this last eighteen years. Actually, more than that. Twenty-plus years, because they started supporting me when I was thirteen, so… But obviously every grand prix win that I've had, the 104 has been with Mercedes, powered by Mercedes, and something that I will always be grateful to have been a part of."

[hinaypod]

Hi Nay June Update (Happy Pride Weekend) 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

Hi everyone! Just wanted to give you updates on the current schedule and progress of episodes.

As you probably noticed, the recaps ran much longer than expected so we ended up posting a whopping 6 recap episodes for June!

Currently I'm aiming to get the Pride episode up before the end of June, but that might not be feasible given that I'm feeling very fatigued today and wasn't able to get as much work done as I hoped.

While I'm still aiming to get it up by tomorrow, if it doesn't go up tomorrow it'll go up early access next Thursday (July 4) and regular premiere Sunday (July 6)!

Another episode I hoped to get finished before June was the bonus episode, Coppelia, but similarly, it's likely I won't be able to get it up on Patreon until the first week of July. Both episodes, however, are 80% done :) And I'm aiming to get both up by the first week. I just need a day where I'm not fatigued so I can get all the recordings done!

Apologies to all of you who were expecting to get it this month, but this means you'll be getting 2 bonus episodes in July (one at the start and one near the end) so hopefully you'll enjoy them!

I'm still setting up the second bonus episode, so once I confirm the actor I'll let you all know what it's about (but it's a good one, I promise!).

Here's me yesterday, briefly checking out Toronto Pride before going home exhausted from the day, which has apparently carried over to today :')

TL;DR

Pride Episode hopefully tomorrow, but if not, next Thursday/Sunday!

June Bonus Episode first week of July!

I'm tired! But proud of the work we did this month! Hope you had a chance to enjoy the recaps, they reveal a LOT, including things you may not have noticed before.

Thank you so much for continuing to support our work.

Cheers,

Motzie

[thevioletcaptain]

activating focus beams via this tumblr post in an attempt to motivate myself to get through a decent portion of this week's to-do list before my vaccine booster makes me a zombie for 24 hours

just gonna throw my to-do list on here to get it out of my brain

incorporate the most recent round of feedback/notes from my classmates/instructor into the final draft of my star trek: strange new worlds spec script, which is due midnight on thursday ‎

finish the short horror script i've been tinkering with to hopefully submit to a screenwriting contest by tomorrow (technically the contest is still accepting submissions for another two weeks, but the early deadline is tomorrow night so i'd like to get it in by then!) ‎

brainstorm a couple of potential rough pilot ideas for a really fun series concept my friend-slash-old-writing-partner has asked me to work on with him and send them over by the weekend ‎

read and give notes on another friend's half hour pilot and another classmate's one hour spec

also once all of this is done i'll have about two weeks of nothing due, which means time to work on some fic and fan art! several things are like 🤏 this close to publishable so i've been dying to get to them.