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internetgremlin-writes · 2 years

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Flat Spin [Chapter Three]

Summary/Prompt: Flat Spin

1. A spin in which an aircraft descends in tight circles whilst remaining almost horizontal

2. A state of agitation or panic [informal]

As the only female driver on the grid, you’re fighting a constant need to prove yourself, however sometimes the line between accepting help and hand-outs is more blurred than you think

Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr x Female Reader

Warnings: Miami tbh

Word Count: 6,100

Me: I'm going to finish the prompt challenge before I post anything else

Me, less than a day later: I lied

This is the first of two chapters covering the Miami madness. Bit more world-building and some more cameos but stick with it, there's still plenty of Carlos

Previous Chapters: One || Two

The first thing you noticed about Miami was the heat. If you’d thought Imola was hot with its dry European spring, then Miami was a boiling swamp. It was the kind of hot that took your breath away from the second you stepped off the aeroplane, especially after spending the last week of April in England, where the weather had yet to catch up with the extended daylight hours.

The week at home had been just what you needed. Since joining F1 and the big paycheck lifestyle it would have made sense to buy your own place, but considering you grew up less than an hour’s drive away from the Aston Martin team’s base it seemed silly to move out of your parents’ home just for the sake of it. You were looking to buy your own apartment out of the country, however, for all the travelling you did you were yet to find anywhere that felt like it could be a good second home. Plus, you adored your family.

You spent your week avoiding team meetings as much as possible, but they didn’t seem too interested in getting a hold of you anyway. The day after you landed, your personal trainer, Jake, cornered you and set out an intensive exercise routine for the week. The two days you’d had off to recover from the crash were bothering him to no end, and he wanted you in the sports research unit at the local university doing temperature and oxygen tests. You filled the rest of the time with sports at his request. Swimming, squash and gym sessions made up the majority of your training. You’d also grown up around horses, and with your sister being an up and coming showjumper there was always plenty that needed exercising.

Between all the exercise you’d had packed into your schedule there wasn’t time for much else, but as always you managed to squeeze in a couple of visits with your best friend, lots of cuddles with the labradors and got permission to get your car onto the test track for a joyride. You had an Aston Martin, obviously, but nothing on the planet could compare to your baby. She was nothing special, but she was your first car; a 17th birthday present from your parents and you’d always been too sentimental to let her go even when you started driving supercars. She was a little hatchback, bright red with two white stripes and she screamed at 70 miles per hour but there was no greater joy than ragging her around the test track at Silverstone to set a new record time.

Usually, aside from work and the odd dinner with Seb, you didn’t think much about the other drivers when you were away from the track. But now there was Carlos. He’d kept up a near-constant stream of conversation, started by him insisting that you were to text him the second you were off the plane and safely home. And that was just the start of things. He wanted to know how you were, what you were doing and if you were having fun. He was still worried about your neck after the crash no matter how many times you told him you were fine. He told you all about his own days. He sent you pictures. Of his home cooking, of his vintage Ferrari, of the view from the balcony in his bedroom, and so many of his dog - a gorgeous wire haired pointer called Piñon. You had to admit that you loved it. Talking to Carlos was easy, it felt natural. It felt right. You could even cope with the comments from your parents, who had both noticed how much you were staring at your phone with a stupid grin, and how you would virtually dive for it when the notifications pinged.

By the time Friday rolled around you were itching to be in Miami. You already knew that Carlos was once again staying in the same hotel as you, as he’d called you as soon as he’d been given his accommodation information to compare with yours. He’d video called you, too, on Sunday night, so excited that he couldn’t wait another day to show you around the hotel complex and insisted on taking you on a walking tour via his phone.

The plane journey itself was almost torture, there was no way you could sleep when you were so excited and also terrified of the weekend ahead. You’d been studying the track information pack Aston Martin had sent you on the way over, and it was starting to look more and more interesting the further you looked into it, but the off-track theatrics seemed beyond ridiculous. You were hoping that the simpler corners and long straights were designed for a more dramatic race, with lots of overtaking action as that was where you excelled. Although the itinerary you’d been sent seemed a lot less exciting and you left that file unopened in favour of watching the virtual lap again.

As requested, you sent Carlos a text from the back of the taxi letting him know that you’d landed safely. He didn’t reply instantly and his Instagram story revealed he was out golfing with Lando and some of the other drivers, which was a relief to you because you were already feeling the effects of the jetlag and the fact that you hadn’t slept on the plane kick in. By the time you had checked into the hotel and gotten your bags up to the room your eyes were so heavy that you decided to go straight to bed despite it being only 7 pm.

You woke up the next morning after a solid sleep, feeling quite pleased with yourself. It was 8 am, so early but not extreme, and with the sun shining through your curtains you felt refreshed and ready to go. You decided put on your swimming costume under a pair of running shorts and a tank top so that you could head to the pool to get in some good laps after a light breakfast. You were examining the buffet spread, the first instance of the extravaganza that was Miami, when there was a tap on your shoulder and before you could turn around a familiar low voice was in your ear.

“Hola,”

“Carlos!” He was behind you, grinning at you like you were the sun. He immediately stepped forward and pulled you into a hug. You tensed for a second because you were in a very public place full of drivers and team staff, but then you felt him and you could smell his cologne and his hair was just brushing the side of your face and you could feel yourself caving into him the way you had the last time you’d seen him. You withdrew a little quickly, much to your body’s protest, but no one was really watching you and you had been informed that media and paparazzi were formally banned from your hotel complex. Your racing heart betrayed how secretly pleased you were with his affection.

“I wasn't expecting to be seeing you so early,” you made a false show of offence at his comment, but your smile gave you away.

“Just because the rest of you think sprinting down a beach is the best way to manage jetlag,” you thought there was something akin to pride in his eyes when you referenced the picture he'd posted yesterday. The one in which he had been very shirtless.

“So you saw it then,” it wasn't a question. He had that look on his face when he was probing someone, you’d seen it in some of the challenge videos. Eyebrows just pulled together, looking through those dark lashes, a lazy smile on his face that just flashed his teeth, but full attention on you. You could feel the heat rising in your face, you'd never felt so easily flustered in someone's presence before. You wracked your brain for a witty retort trying to break through the fog that seemed to descend over you when he was around, turning back to the breakfast buffet as you did to keep up with the moving queue.

“So you wanted me to see it?” He had nothing to say to that, but you didn't miss the knowing look he shot you as he followed you along the line of excessive food. You opted for a simple bowl of fruit and yoghurt, and a small pastry on the side as a treat, light enough that you would be fine in the pool shortly after. You started to turn towards the small table you'd spotted by a window which looked out over the seafront, but Carlos caught your attention.

“Come sit with us,” you wanted to question who ‘us’ was, but you already knew you weren't going to say no based on the way he was looking at you alone. You just knew he’d grown up using and abusing the puppy-dog eyes effect. So with a resigned grin and butterflies in your stomach, you followed him towards a table on the other side of the hall were a small group of your fellow drivers were sat.

Already sat at the table in the middle of the room were Lando, Charles, Pierre, Yuki and Alex. After a round of the usual ‘hellos’, ‘how are yous’ and ‘what did you do for the week offs’ the talk quickly turned to racing. You hadn't spent much time with the other drivers recently, various happenings keeping you occupied even in the paddock, and you found yourself realising how much you’d missed their antics.

“Did you see the itinerary for the week, Y/N?” Charles was asking you through a mouthful of syrupy pancakes. You shook your head.

“Not yet,” Lando rolled his eyes. He was usually pretty quiet around you despite you being only a year older than him, but today he seemed more comfortable in your presence.

“It’s shit,” Carlos flicked him on the arm with a quick scold. “What!?” Lando protested “It is shit. Most of us start today,”

“Today?”

“Yeah. There’s like TV shows filming and stuff. I have James Corden,” he didn't seem too excited about it. There was a nervous pressure in your chest, kicking yourself for not checking if you had any plans with the team today. You were used to not having any responsibilities until the media days, but in hindsight, it should have been obvious that with Maimi being described as the Superbowl of F1 the usual routine would be non-existent.

“And more conferences tomorrow,” Pierre added. Carlos nodded then, catching your gaze and holding eye contact with you as he spoke, enough to make you work hard not to squirm in your seat.

“We do one altogether. All the drivers and the principles,” that caught your attention

“That's like 30 people in one interview,” Carlos nodded at you, confirming you hadn’t heard him wrong.

“Yup,” Lando again, half-heartedly stirring his cereal as he spoke. “They're calling it the opening ceremony. D'you reckon I can drink this?” He held up his bowl to show Carlos the leftover milk. Carlos shook his head like an exasperated parent, but Lando grinned and lifted the bowl to his mouth anyway. You had to swallow the panic rising within you, really really wishing you had read the itinerary now. Pierre said something to Charles in French and you found yourself zoning out a little.

Media was something you were used to. Press appearances, interviews, screaming fans; it was all part of the job. So was ignoring the hateful comments and booing thrown your way. You could do it, you'd been trained from a young age to do so, but it didn't mean you enjoyed it, especially when your gender was thrown into the questioning. You were only just becoming comfortable enough with the other 19 drivers that the random-mix conferences and interviews you did were tolerable, but the idea of everyone and all the team principles on stage in front of a roaring crowd with people throwing questions left, right and centre sounded downright terrifying.

Carlos must have noticed you'd gone quiet because he gently elbowed you from where you were sitting beside him. He watched you with silent question, searching your face for an answer. You sent him a tight smile and shook your head, before quickly turning your attention to Charles who was dramatically describing his latest fail on the video game streams he did. Charles was one of the nicest people you knew and he was so funny, even if most of the time it was unintentional.

Yuki had already excused himself by the time you'd finished picking at the cinnamon roll you no longer wanted, so you didn't feel too guilty when you stood up to leave either. You wished everyone a good day, hoping to god that the way you mentioned you’d be going to check out the pool was casual. You didn’t dare look at Carlos as you said it.

You didn't settle until you were back at the hotel room in front of your iPad, scrolling through the itinerary Katie had sent you last week. Luckily you didn't have anything on in the morning, but you had two media sessions in the afternoon and a sponsorship dinner with Seb and Mike, your team principal. Your heart sank a little at realising you were already busy, but you tried not to let it bring you down too much and headed down to the pool.

The pool was huge, the same size as the competitive one you trained in at home, plus there were three separate jacuzzis dotted around the outside and a whole side dedicated to a spa unit with multiples of everything, including the biggest steam room you’d ever seen. You started with a swan dive into a freestyle stroke at a much faster pace than usual and continued without pause for at least half an hour or until your lungs were burning and you could feel yourself physically unable to push anymore.

You came up for air, trying to ignore the fact you were panting a little harder than you wanted to be and hoisted yourself out of the water and into one of the jacuzzis where you leaned with your head back as the warm, high-pressure water did its job. You were just closing your eyes, finally managing to dissipate enough of the stress of the morning to relax your muscles when you felt someone slide into the small pool with you.

There, sat opposite you, in full shirtless glory was Carlos. Your heart leapt. You’d seen all of the drivers shirtless before, courtesy of their PR teams and Instagram stories, not to mention some questionable paddock behaviour, and similarly, they had all seen you before in bikini tops and sports bras. Growing up in sport meant you were used to being surrounded by male athletes; well-toned bodies on display were something you were alarmingly comfortable with, bordering on normal at this point in your life. But there was something different about Carlos that made you feel like a teenager again. You had to work really hard not to stare at the way his tan skin pulled smooth over the muscle, his shoulders broad and chest neatly defined. His hair was wet, pushed off his forehead by a pair of goggles.

“Hey,” you murmured and he took that as his invitation to come closer, manoeuvring himself so he was sitting beside you. You were acutely aware of the arm he was resting on the poolside, right behind your back.

“Is everything alright?” You laughed humourlessly.

“Straight to the point, huh?” Carlos sent you a look that said he was being serious.

“You were quiet at breakfast,” you managed a sad smile, realising there was no point in trying to conceal anything from him.

“I didn’t look at my itinerary before breakfast,” You admitted, but he only raised an eyebrow at you, clearly waiting for you to get to the real problem. “I guess I’m not gonna get to take you out today,” Carlos leant forward as if he was about to touch your face, but he hesitated at the last moment and cast a look across the pool. Instead, the hand behind your back found your shoulder for a second. You instantly melted into the contact.

“That's why you're sad?” You couldn't identify the emotion in his voice. You nodded because it felt silly to admit it out loud, though Carlos’ expression was nothing but sincere.

“And this whole thing, it’s so much…everything,” he nodded, not quite present as his gaze shifted, blanky staring across the pool.

“It is a lot of attention… a lot of fans. That’s good,” you couldn’t help but adore his simplicity sometimes. Because when he said it like that, it sounded nothing less than pure positivity. Just a lot of fans itching to see their favourite people. You thanked Carlos and he looked at you like he was aching for a second, but before you could ask him if he was okay he stepped in once more. “It will be good. And we will do the second date, even if it’s not today,”

“So it was a date?” You only realised you’d said it out loud when Carlos’ eyebrows shot up into his hairline and he was looking at you like you’d just said something completely ridiculous and borderline offensive.

“Did you think I take everyone out like that? I don’t share dessert with Lando!” the image of Carlos and Lando sharing tiramisu was enough to break you from the mood you’d been in all morning and you found yourself dissolved into giggles and unable to recover for a moment. It didn’t help that Carlos knew what you were thinking and was reenacting the ‘What’s in the Box?’ video he’d done with Lando a few years ago that had involved a throwing a tiramisu around the studio by flicking water at you as if it was the cake. When you’d started to recover a little Carlos dipped his head a little closer, his voice lowering as he delivered his kill shot.

“Do you think I kiss anyone like that?” If he’d said anything else you wouldn’t have known because all you could hear was the blood rushing in your ears and the thudding of your heart. Carlos moved away quickly, and stretched casually, the intimate moment so quick that anyone else would have missed it.

“Well, no,” you admitted, not quite able to meet his eye because you knew your whole face was bright red and if you were being honest you didn’t know if you could stop yourself from throwing yourself at him right there and then. “Shit,” you’d caught sight of the clock in the background and realised that you only had an hour before you were supposed to be meeting Katie before your first media session.

“You have to go?”

“I have to go,” you started to stand up and hoist yourself out of the pool, but Carlos caught your elbow just before you did so.

“Hey, don’t worry okay? The media will be fine. And I promise you can take me on a date,” he winked, then hesitated for a moment ��I’ve wanted the chance to take you out for a while. I’m not gonna miss it now,”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your good mood from the moment with Carlos in the swimming pool lasted for all of five minutes of your meeting with Katie, by which point you realised that the appearances you’d been scheduled were so far beyond your usual scope of work. Like Lando had said at breakfast, your day wasn’t the usual press conferences and interviews, but instead, you were being shuttled between sets like some kind of movie star. You had appearances with two-late night show hosts who wanted bits and interviews, a pre-recorded breakfast show and your own team PR and Grill the Grid.

The bits that involved you being at the track were better. One of the late-night show hosts had planned for you to take him out on a fast lap in an Aston Martin, the man beside you was supposed to be asking you interview questions but you were throwing the car so aggressively around the track that he couldn’t do anything other than grip onto his seat and grit his teeth. Perhaps you’d been trying to prove a point because he had flippantly said he was going to be fine because you were driving the lap, but even so, you could see the mischievous glint in Seb’s eyes when you pulled back into the pit lane with a very pale and sweaty celebrity who needed to lie down for a few minutes.

The next one wanted you and Seb to do a doughnut challenge, they’d originally wanted it to be in the F1 cars but the engineers refused point-blank so you were back in the very sporty road car. It was all good fun until the show host had you teach him how to do a doughnut and you had to grab the wheel before he sent the pair of you into a wall and wrecked the car.

Finally, you found yourself doing something more normal with a ‘Mr and Mrs’ challenge which you and Seb aced for the breakfast show and filmed a silly PR video for Aston Martin that involved the pair of you in a complex game of Miami themed charades. Whilst you were still in your race suit you were also sent off to go and film quiz sections for the F1 channel about American sports teams, in which you did horrifically before you were released for a short lunch break.

Then you were collected by Katie and it was time for the studios. You were handed a pressed polo shirt and a pair of white jeans to change into and then you were forced into hair and makeup chairs. The breakfast show was first and they were interviewing you and Seb as a pair. You were glad it was first because Seb’s offhanded comment about just how much longer you were being kept in hair and makeup than him had you in and out much quicker in your following solo sessions.

The interview with Seb was fairly easy, very much in familiar territory and the pair of you were asked fairly standard questions that you’d answered a hundred times before. The solo interviews you did for the late-night shows were also fine, but they weren’t fun and they weren’t really about the race. You answered the repetitive set of questions about what it’s like being a woman in a male-dominated sport, and how is it different for you, and who’s the most attractive driver, and have you ever done x, y or z and so on. You stayed polite, said your scripted jokes and gave political non-answers to most questions. For a final ‘game’ you found yourself identifying the driver based on their shirtless torsos, in which you deliberately answered even the obvious ones wrong to make a point that you didn’t look for one and that it didn’t matter for another. You did recognise Carlos instantly, but that didn’t need to be mentioned.

You barely had time to recover before you were being changed into a green dress, your hair curled and even more makeup applied before you were sent out to meet Seb, who looked equally uncomfortable in his white suit for the sponsor dinner.

The sponsors were several big American investors who wanted to know exactly what their money was getting. Seb and Mike did a great job of talking technical, and as much as you tried your best to interject with your own analysis of the car’s performance and where you could use the money to improve, by the fourth time you were called sweetheart you resigned yourself to flirting with rich old men, flashing them your best doe eyes and discussing things like marketing and colour schemes and how you really thought you might win the championship this year with the support of all the team. If you weren’t getting progressively drunk on free wine, and if your career didn’t depend on your behaviour, you would have told them exactly where they could shove their ‘sweethearts’.

It was a stuffy Michelin star restaurant, the kind that you thought only really existed in movies, with tiny plates of food that was far too fancy to actually be enjoyable and a terrible piano ambience. You found your mind wandering off mid-meal, prodding what you had been told was ‘escargot’ with your fork and thinking that the food Carlos had ordered in that tiny Italian place was so much better. Seb didn’t seem to enjoy the food much either, and by the end of the night the pair of you were trying to contain yourselves from giving away the fact you were playing a silent game of ‘Boomer Bingo’. So far Seb was winning, but only because he kept repeating global warming and they kept calling it a myth.

By the time you’d managed two dessert courses, a cheese course and two rounds of coffee you were uncomfortably full and exhausted. You virtually collapsed into the back of the car taking you back to the hotel with Katie, not listening to a word of the glowing praise she was giving you for how well you performed and how much the sponsors loved you. She said goodbye to you in the hotel lobby and the second she was out of sight you ripped off the heels you’d been in and padded barefoot to the elevators. Carlos had texted you an hour ago to see if you were done and wanted a nightcap, but you were so full of obscenely fancy food and heavy wine that you couldn’t face anything else. It was nearing midnight, and he hadn’t replied to your complaint written from the ladies' bathroom, so you figured he’d gone to sleep waiting for you to get back to him.

The next morning’s breakfast was equally chaotic. The hotel restaurant was full to bursting point with seemingly everyone staying there trying to cram in a meal at the same time. You tried to spot Carlos in the crowd to see if you could catch his eye and non-verbally apologise for missing him last night, but in the sea of team colours you couldn’t single him out. You ended up grabbing whatever you could reach first from the buffet and quickly retreating to your room, the wine-induced headache and early morning combination not setting you up for socialising with a select few people, let alone half of Miami.

The saving grace of the day was that it was much more relaxed. You were on driver press conferences which was much more familiar territory, although you hated how suddenly you were checking any panel for a Ferrari name. You had Charles in one of them, which was nice but he wasn’t Carlos, who you didn’t see for the entire day. You spent your down hours hiding out in the back of Aston Martin, downing water and going over statistics with your team.

The closer you got to the opening ceremony the more your stomach was starting to knot about it. You were once again put into a team polo and had your hair perfectly positioned under your driver cap. You stood with Sebastian and Mike to complete the green trio in the lineup backstage. Just in front of you were Lando and the McLaren team, he looked as nervous as you were, staring off into space and not reacting to anything around him.

You could hear the crowd roaring ahead of you, the presenters warming them up which seemed to be an easy job judging by the raucous noise. The teams were called up one by one and you could feel your heart thudding in your ears as you reached the bottom of the stairs to the stage. You couldn't hear your name being announced over the roar of the crowd, instead, relying on the stage hand who was signalling you to make your way up with Seb and Mike behind you. You took a shaky breath and stepped forward into the bright artificial lights. You couldn't see the crowd initially, but the wall of noise that hit you was staggering. It took everything in you to remember to pull your best smile onto your face and lift your arm high in the air with a confident wave as you strode across the stage to take your place beside Lando, who looked positively sick. Sebastian joined you and you could see in the look he gave you that he too was taken aback by the noise.

It was so loud you could barely hear the presenters or the other drivers but you got the gist of what was going on. They were working down the line of teams, introducing you again and then opening up to questions. From what you could gather the questions were not only coming from Press as you were used to, but it seemed to be open to the VIP ticket holders circle. This is going to be fun, you thought to yourself - because there was a reason you always avoided fan questions.

"And now, from Astin Martin, it's the green machines, in the fight for her first championship Y/N Y/L/N and four-time world champion legend Sebastian Vettel!" You waved again, a huge smile on your face that was almost genuine because, despite the near consistent sea of red, black and orange caps, the roar was equally loud for your team as it had been for the top names. You were struggling to see what was going on, but the loud echo of a poor quality mic and your name was enough to let you know that your question time had started.

“How do you manage your hair in the helmet?” You couldn't help the slightly shocked laugh, but if you were being honest it was a pretty tame question and you didn’t mind answering it.

“It's not really a problem. I just tie it back low and then my baklava covers it the same as anyone else,” you didn't have time to breathe before someone else was shouting at you.

“As the only woman on the grid this year, how do you manage your workout routine to keep up with the other drivers?” That was a sore spot, you’d had plenty of comments, especially in the early days, blaming your ‘smaller’ muscle mass on the reason you weren’t scoring points as regularly as the world sodding champion.

“I don't think it's any different to anyone else. I have a dietician and my personal trainer too, and we work hard to make sure I'm as fit and healthy as I can be. As you can see in my performance, I’m having no problems handling the car and that’s all that matters,” you decided to jokingly flex your bicep as if to prove your point, and partly to try and dissipate some of the nervous energy building within you.

“Hey, Y/N, has your relationship with Carlos Sainz changed following the crash in Imola? Did you apologise?” You swallowed hard, feeling a blush threatening to creep its way up your neck. You hoped it could be blamed on the heat as you took a steadying breath to prepare your answer.

“Carlos has been a good friend since my rookie year. I think it was pretty clear the incident last weekend was my fault, and I apologised instantly. You know, these things happen in racing and I like to think he's not holding it against me,” you leaned forward to glance down the rows to where the Ferrari team were stood, separated from you by the Red Bulls. You were looking for Carlos, in truth to see if your answer had been good enough for him. You weren't exactly about to announce he'd sat in your room for hours that night and taken you on a date the next day.

“I forgave her,” he added with his signature grin and a wink, which made the entire audience erupt into screams that took a minute to settle for the next question. You were asked a little about your friendship with Seb and some slightly more relevant questions, which you didn't mind quite so much, and you were just starting to settle into a rapport with the crowd.

“Y/N, how do you balance your love life and racing?” Apparently admitting you were starting to enjoy yourself was a mistake.

“Is that a question you'd ask any of the other drivers here or just me because I'm a woman?” You shot back, unable to keep the bite out of your tone. You weren't going to speak further on the topic but you felt Mike dig subtly into your back and you knew you had no choice. Pleasing the crowd in Miami had to come first. “Right now I'm focused on my racing. I'm in a strong position for this season and I'm pushing for those wins. I-” you were cut off by someone without a mic, who shouted very loudly.

“Ay, Mamí, you single!?”

You didn't even have time to process what happened because Carlos had picked up his microphone again. He said something pretty short, in what must have been Spanish because you had no idea what he said but his tone was deadly serious. About half the crowd started to respond with an uncomfortable laugh, but then the presenter was stepping in and the interviews were being moved on to the McLarens beside you.

You were lost for the rest of the ceremony, unable to understand the quick encounter that had so abruptly ended your time. And after another hour of smiling and waving through confetti and fireworks and throwing your merch into the crowd you were relieved to be finally shepherded off the stage as a DJ began a set and it was flooded with celebrities. After getting the all-clear from Mike that there were no further expectations from you, you managed to slip back away from the stage. You were headed to the Aston Martin hospitality zone, hoping that you could sit quietly in catering and have a minute to gather yourself. What you hadn't noticed was someone had followed you in.

Carlos made you jump when he grabbed your arm and span you around to face him, perhaps a little harder than necessary. His eyes were positively blazing and his jaw was set firm.

“Are you okay?” You managed to extract yourself from his grip, more than a little bewildered.

“What? Yeah, I’m fine,” you tossed him a bottle of water from the fridge and grabbed yourself one. Carlos caught it with ease but didn't move to open it.

“That guy. Those questions,” you shrugged, yes it had been bad, but you’d faced worse. He should hear some of the things the Netflix team asked you for Drive to Survive.

“It's fine. I get asked shit like that all the time, I should have known it'd be worse in Miami. I normally avoid tabloid looking people is all. And that guy was just heckling-”

“He called you Mamí,”

“And? I'm called Maneater most of the time,” Carlos sighed and dragged a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. For the first time in your career, you thought that maybe Maneater wasn’t as funny of a nickname as you’d always believed.

“It means sexy. It's- you don't say it like that. You can call it to someone in sex or when you know her very well,” the penny finally dropped for you. It wasn't just a gross comment, you'd been properly catcalled on live television in front of how many millions of people. Your mind was racing, the tremble returning to your hands as you struggled to process the new information.

“What did you say to him?” Your voice was small. Any humour you'd managed to find in the opening ceremony was completely gone.

“Show some respect,” you nodded, a silent thanks on your lips. You felt oddly empty over the whole thing. You were shocked, but you weren’t angry, you didn’t want to cry. You were just done. The thought of going back to the ceremony or even sticking around in the paddock for a minute longer made you nauseous.

“I’m getting a headache,” it wasn't entirely a lie, “ I think I'm just gonna head back to the hotel and have an early night," Carlos nodded in response, he didn’t offer or even push to go back with you. You weren’t sure if you were grateful or not. You put a hand on his shoulder for a second to let him know you weren't angry with him. Then left him in his bright red shirt surrounded by the dark green livery of Aston Martin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Four

Check out my Masterlist here!

The moral of this story is don't ask me for when something is being published because I will give you a very honest answer and then do the exact opposite. Always

Anyway since I started part one I realised I wanted to make this into a proper story so I do apologise that this chapter is a lot more dedicated to building Y/N up and setting the scene. But we're starting to build up to the good stuff now!

As per usual full disclaimers are in the masterlist but its FICTION. I don't know Carlos, I'm only expanding on and taking inspiration from what I see in his content. And for all F1 content it is INSPIRATION not ACCURACY. This would be boring af if it was just a blow by blow account of every race weekend

Other than that not much else to say. Hope you guys enjoyed reading this one because it's been my fave chapter to write so far with all the stuff going on!!

Rage and Love

Le Gremlin <3

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#carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz imagine #formula one #f1 #sebastian vettel #lando norris #charles lecrelc

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rjzimmerman · 17 days

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Excerpt from this Op-Ed from the New York Times:

To keep the lights on, many utility companies are proposing to build dozens of new power plants that burn natural gas. North Carolina-based Duke Energy alone wants to add 8.9 gigawatts of new gas-fired capacity — more than the entire country added in 2023. Using their own projections of soaring energy demands as justification, these companies are also pushing back on the climate targets set by their states and the Biden administration.

If state regulators sign off on these plans, they will be gambling with our country’s future. We need to electrify everything from cars to appliances to slow climate change, but we won’t be able to reach our climate goals if we power all of those machines with dirty energy.

There is a better way. But to get there, legislators will need to overhaul the incentives driving utilities to double down on natural gas, so that they can turn a profit without cooking the planet.

Companies like Duke, Dominion Energy and Georgia Power argue that they need more gas-fired plants to reliably provide power during times of peak demand — for instance, on a hot summer weekday afternoon when home cooling systems and data servers are all humming at maximum output, and the grid strains to keep up. But those peaks tend to materialize only for a few dozen hours per year, and there are ways to deal with them that don’t require a massive amount of new methane-burning infrastructure.

The real reason the utilities want to build these plants is quite simple: The more stuff they build, the more money they make. Regulators let utilities charge their customers enough money to cover what they spend on assets like combustion turbines and wires, plus a generous rate of return (up to 10 percent) for their investors. This longstanding arrangement incentivizes power providers to build expensive things whether society needs them or not, in lieu of lower-cost, cleaner options, and to invoke their duty to keep the lights on as a post hoc rationalization.

Fortunately, utilities have plenty of ways to meet this new need.

They include “virtual power plants” — when technologies such as home batteries, rooftop solar systems, smart water heaters and thermostats are linked together and managed via software to provide the same services as a conventional power plant. Utilities in Vermont, Colorado and Massachusetts are already using them, to quickly respond to rising demand at a much lower cost than operating natural gas combustion turbines. According to one estimate, virtual power plants could lower U.S. utilities’ costs by as much as $35 billion over the next decade.

Utilities could also accelerate efforts to replace outdated transmission lines with newer ones that can carry double the electric current and to bring more battery storage online. They can compensate customers for using less energy during times when demand is high and invest far more in energy efficiency, helping customers to adopt devices that use less electricity.

All of these solutions would save customers money and reduce carbon emissions. They could, according to a Department of Energy analysis, meet the entire projected growth in U.S. peak electricity demand over the next decade.

#electric utilities #energy efficiency

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the12thnightproject · 11 months

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Chapter 50: Radiance -While waiting for the next wormhole, Shingen and Katsuko enjoy domestic fluff, birthday cake, and snowboarding… but an old video leads to an unsettling discovery.

Shingen x OC; Kenshin x MC (Mai)

Previous Chapter: Here

Logline - Disguised as a boy, Katsuko finds herself working for Shingen, but her dangerous masquerade becomes difficult to sustain when she falls for the man with a fatal secret.

With ten weeks until the next wormhole opened, modern Japan ended up being kind of a vacation for Shingen and I. Rather than join Sasuke in Kyoto, we elected to stay in Nagano since it was more or less home turf for both of us. Thanks to Aki’s generosity (I considered it an employee bonus and figured I had earned every penny – especially since he hadn’t ever paid me an actual salary), I had more than enough money to rent a decent furnished apartment for a few months.

Before the winter kicked in, we rented a motorcycle several times and toured through the countryside, riding down to the Yamanashi Prefecture, formerly Kai. After some discussion, we elected not to visit the Tsutsujigasaki historic site – it would be too strange and jarring. “When we go to Tsutusjigasaki Castle,” he told me, “it will be as it was, so I can introduce you to its people.”

In return, I showed him all of my old kid haunts – not that there were that many – and my favorite places to hike and climb. And of course, Shingen being Shingen, we created our own tour of Teahouses and bakeries around the city.

Sasuke came up from Kyoto every other week, mostly to hang out, but also to report what was going on with the wormhole and his investigation into the mystery of Aki. The latter was unfortunately stalled due to his parents having taken a sabbatical trip through China – they’d rented their house out to a businessman from India.

On my own, I was doing similar research on my old mentor, but to no one’s surprise, he kept an extremely low internet footprint. Nothing like putting your primary residence 450 years in the past to help you stay off the grid. Similarly, though I haunted the library and archive sites, I was unable to find a lead on “Hikosane.” If he had done something important during his lifetime, it wasn’t in the historical record.

The first weekend in December, Sasuke came up and took Shingen out for a man-bonding afternoon. That was how Sasuke described it. I described it as “get him out of the house so I can bake him a birthday cake.” The birthday meal itself, I would trust to delivery, but I wanted to at least make him something sweet.

Cooking and baking were not activities I had done a much of after my mother died, but prior to that, I’d been the primary cook, not just for meals but also desserts. I had gone through a phase where I baked the most decadent things I could find, hoping to tempt her to – Ah… maybe that was why I wasn’t a huge fan of sweets now? I jotted that down in a notebook my therapist was having me keep. I had decided to see a therapist for my claustrophobia and nightmares. They were never as bad when I was with Shingen, but I felt it wasn’t his job to deal with my mental health – I needed to take responsibility for that. Obviously, there wasn’t a lot I could accomplish before we headed back through the wormhole in the Spring (I told my therapist I was moving to Vancouver) but I hoped to at least have the tools I needed to keep moving forward.

I checked the temperature of the cake layers that were cooling on wire racks. Online, I’d found what looked like (per the number of stars the recipe had) an extremely decadent recipe for chocolate and strawberry cake. While I might never win any cake decorating contests, I was confident the cake would at least taste good. Just as I finished mixing up the buttercream frosting, Shingen and Sasuke came through the door, stomping snow off their boots.

“Sorry to bring him back early – the snow’s getting fairly deep.” Sasuke hates driving in snow. For that matter, Shingen’s not terribly fond of being a passenger when Sasuke is driving, so I ought to have expected an early return.

“No worries.” I’d been listening to the weather reports. Deep snow tonight meant this weekend I could finally take them snowboarding – an excursion that we’d planned for as soon as the weather cooperated.

“What’s all this?” Shingen eyed the cake and the bowl of frosting with the intent interest of a sugar fiend who’d been held hostage in a health spa for a decade. “If it tastes as good as it smells, then I’d say we’ve gotten back right on time.”

“I hope that wasn’t supposed to be a surprise.” Sasuke headed to the coffee machine that we kept out just for him, as neither Shingen nor I had ever developed a taste for it (though Shingen did have a fondness for those fancy caramel mocha lattes they sold at the chain coffee shop – go figure).

“No, it was to prevent… that.” Shingen had grabbed the bowl of frosting and a spoon. I took the bowl away. “That goes on the cake,” I said. He gave me an adorable little boy frown. I leaned closer and said to him quietly. “If there’s any leftover after that, we can have it later… I’ll take the role of the cake.”

Shingen had been stealthily reaching the spoon for a raid on the frosting, but upon hearing that hastily aborted the mission. I ran my finger along the edge of the bowl, scooping up a small amount of frosting on it, and held it out to him. “Will this hold you for a while?”

He sucked my finger into his mouth and licked away the frosting. “For dessert, yes. For you, my sweet Devil, not even close.” He backed me into the counter and dipped me into a kiss. He tasted of chocolate and snow and promises.

“Not a full wall, so I suppose that’s a half-kabedon,” Sasuke toasted us with his mug of coffee.

“Only the Russian judge will care.” I scooted out from under Shingen’s arms, then handed him my phone. “This cake will not frost itself. Why don’t you guys pick a place and order dinner. In this weather it could take a while to get here.”

Shingen opened up the restaurant delivery app. “Any preferences?”

“Your birthday, you pick. Just order something vegetarian for me.” I began putting the crumb coat of frosting onto the cake and pretended not to notice when Shingen stole another taste.

Sasuke rescued the cake from becoming a “naked cake” by taking Shingen into the other room to watch TV – they were working their way through the original Star Trek. I’m not sure Shingen was all that into the show, but it was fun to watch Sasuke watch it. Apparently, he and Gene Rodenberry had incompatible views on the science of space travel. Already I could hear him grumbling that spaceships didn’t need to ‘bank’ in zero gravity.

While I lost myself in the soothing rhythm of cake frosting (given the number of tiktok and youtube videos of people frosting cakes, I wasn’t the only person to appreciate the ASMR quality of cake decorating), I let my gaze wander from where I could see Shingen and Sasuke joking around in front of the tv set, to the window, where the late afternoon snow was lightly brushing against the window.

Respite.

There was that word again. Away from the stress and danger of the Sengoku, Shingen and I were cocooning in this little apartment, learning how to be together without distraction. Once we got back, we’d both have our battles to fight. I was determined to find Aki and demand an explanation, while Shingen was making plans to try to wrest Kai from Nobunaga. But until then, it was nice to have this comfort of daily living together, in order to strengthen what we’d need to face these challenges, both as individuals, and as ‘us.’

Later, after we’d finished dinner and a good portion of the birthday cake, the sugar crash hit, and we all sprawled lazily on the couch, good naturedly debating what to watch, without making any real effort to actually make a decision.

“Are you going to finish that?” Shingen indicated the remainder of the slice of cake that I hadn’t managed to eat.

Oof. Even if I thought I could move (too full), or wanted to move (too comfortable under Shingen’s arm) I didn’t want it. I’d made the cake to his tastes, not mine. “It’s about eighty percent frosting – go ahead. I’ve never liked that much sugar.”

He reached for it, then paused. “Except for the sweets from the Teahouse in Kasugayama – you liked those.”

I made a show of looking innocently at the ceiling and folding my hands penitently while Sasuke snickered quietly from his end of the couch.

Here came the forehead flick. “Really, Devil?”

“I never actually said I liked them. I simply didn’t correct your assumption that I did.” I resisted the urge to rub spot he’d just flicked. No need to encourage him.

“What am I going to do with her?” Shingen addressed Sasuke, who looked like he wanted to yeet out of the conversation completely. “She happily lies to me, steals my clothes” (oh yeah, I was wearing his shirt again), “-falls out of trees-”

“Alright, enough about that.” I gestured to Sasuke’s tablet, which was currently wirelessly connected to our TV. “Sasuke, go to youtube.” I gave him the address of the old youtube page that Toshiie and I had put up when we were still teenagers. Hopefully after so many years, it was still there. “We’re going to settle this tree thing once and for all.”

Sasuke did that ninja typing thing again. “Password?”

“Tony_Stark1610.”

“Ironman? Really Katsuko, you need better privacy settings than that.” He brought up the page. The freerunning videos were at the top, but we were going to go further back than that.

“Shut it, Spidey I was fourteen when I created this page.” No one would have been looking for it in any case.

He sighed. “At least you didn’t use your pets’ name or your birthday.”

“Sixteen ten is her birthday,” Shingen offered.

Also, Tony Stark had been the name of my cat, but I was not going to bring that up to Sasuke. “I’ll change the password later.” I directed him to the oldest video on the page.

It had been the last time I’d ever competed in artistic gymnastics – a small local competition. My mother, who normally was my biggest supporter had been having a bad week and that morning hadn’t left her bed. Toshiie had filmed the event so she could see it later. As far as I knew, she’d never watched. I’d quit soon after that – I’d only been doing it for her to begin with, and I didn’t have the funds -or the talent - to move up to an elite level. Not that that mattered now. What was on the video would likely look more impressive than it actually was.

Shingen and Sasuke watched my fourteen-year-old self tumble and flip across the balance beam. “There will be no more talk of me falling out of trees.”

“Can you teach me some of that? It would come in handy for a moderately awesome ninja.” Sasuke had a faraway look in his eyes. Likely imagining surprising Yuki or Kenshin with new tricks.

“Ah, now I understand what you meant about training as a performer from a young age.” Shingen watched teen Katsuko slide into a full split then dismount the beam with a flourish. “Are you still that flexible, Devil?”

Nobody with breasts and hips is that flexible. I was about to reply to that one with a forehead flick of my own, when the next video began. “I had no idea he posted this – Sasuke click stop.”

It was the freerunning video from the day of the wormhole – just seeing the view of the building that I was about to ascend brought back the feelings of restlessness and anxiety from that year.

“What’s wrong?” As usual, Shingen was tuned into my emotions and he picked up my hand and held it comfortingly.

“The day we got swept into the Sengoku, Toshiie filmed this. I was just surprised that he’d had time to put it on the page.” Discovering this was like time-traveling to my younger self in an archival wormhole.

“May I watch? I’d like to get a sense of the weather conditions that day – it’s a rare opportunity to have this type of data for analysis.” Sasuke had instantly become alert, ready to flip into Weird Science Mode.

“Um, if we play this, I need to warn you in advance – I was a lot more of a daredevil back then, and my brother and I fought about what I did here.” Which was why I was surprised he’d uploaded it. Maybe to try to talk me out of taking risks.

“So noted.” Shingen didn’t actually promise not to get upset, but Sasuke had already pressed start. I resisted the urge to watch Shingen, especially when I almost fell off a three-story building, but I could feel his tension at that point, and… what was that? “Wait, Sasuke, can you play that back?”

“I really don’t want to see you almost die again.” Yeah, Shingen sounded upset and his hand was almost squeezing mine too hard.

“Don’t watch me – look beyond that… left side of the roof.” Something had distracted me that day – that was why I had nearly fallen to begin with. “There.”

“I see it!” Sasuke paused the video and pinch zoomed. “What the hell is that?”

There had been someone else on the roof – a blurry, foggy figure who then vanished into the horizon almost as if they’d unzipped the sky and climbed in. “Now I am creeped out.” There wasn’t any way to tell who – or what – that had been. “Sasuke..?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like it.” He zoomed in some more, but that just added to the blur. “Permission to send a copy of this to myself?”

It might have been Aki.

It might have been Iekane.

It might have been someone completely unknown to us.

Who the hell were these people?

In any case, tracking down and confronting Aki suddenly became a lot more important.

The snowboarding expedition was a mixed success. Sasuke’s Ninja training had come in handy, and after a few basic pointers, he had left to try out his skills on an intermediate course… or more accurately, he’d wanted to further bond with a cute tourist he’d met on the ski lift.

Shingen was athletic, but this was one of the places his height was a disadvantage. With his higher center of gravity, he’d had some trouble getting into his knees. Eventually though, he’d picked it up, and soon was swooping down the training hill. He did fall a couple more times after that, but since both times he’d managed to take me down with him, I figured those had been on purpose.

After a couple hours, he noticed I was eyeing one of the half-pipes. “If you want to do that, I’m ready for a break.”

Hm. It had been seven (or, was it eight – I was never sure how to count the unknown amount of time I’d been stuck in the wormhole) years. Could I still manage it? But with Shingen voluntarily encouraging my daredevil tendencies – why not? I gave him a quick kiss. “See you at the bottom of the hill.

In no time at all, I’d dropped in and traversed the pipe. I’d kept it simple, without trying any of the tricks I used to do, aside from simple 180 turns at the top of each wall. But the rush was still there, and I zipped to the bottom with a whoop. Flying. Me and the sky. But the bigger rush? Seeing Shingen waiting for me at the base of the hill, smiling as he watched me skid to a stop.

“I once called you a moon goddess,” he said as I disengaged from the board. “I was wrong. You’re pure sunshine – made for daylight – the most radiant being I’ve ever seen.”

I smiled up at him and took his hand. “You keep that up and you’re going to melt all the snow.”

“What time are we meeting Sasuke?” he asked, while we were waiting to return our rented equipment.

“We’re not.” I pulled a hotel key card out of my pocket. I’d already packed some luggage for both of us in order to keep this a surprise. “Sasuke took an uber back to the apartment.” Or possibly he was furthering his acquaintance with the tourist he’d met earlier. “You and I are going to that hotel over there,” I pointed to the resort attached to the snow park. “Where we can celebrate your birthday by soaking in a private hot spring.”

Later, under the clear star filled sky, Shingen lowered himself with a sigh into steaming hot water. He leaned back against the natural rock formation and gazed out on the view of Mount Kosha. “This was a good idea you had.”

“I do have them, occasionally.” The combination of the snow kissed air and the hot water felt wonderful on my skin and ok- slightly – aching muscles. “I am a little sore after that… are you?”

“Given that I am close to five hundred years old, yes. These bones aren’t what they used to be.” In opposition to his statement, he swiftly pulled me onto his lap.

“I think you’re in great shape… for your age.” I ran my hands over his chest muscles.

“I fell a little bit in love with you the moment you said that. You had this challenging glint in your eyes.” He put his finger under my chin and drew my face up to his. “Yes, just like now. You hung onto that basket of pastry and acted like an insubordinate recruit.”

“In my defense, you had just set me up to be killed – hey!” Shingen removed my wet tankini top and tossed it aside. My nipples immediately tightened in the cold air. “That is not a place I want to have icicles dripping from.”

“Can’t have that.” He fastened his lips to my breast and warmed it with his mouth and tongue. “Hold still, Devil. I want to see if I can put the same look on your face that you had when you were zipping across the half-pipe.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him closer to me. “You do, Shingen. You might not always be looking my way when it’s there, but… you do.”

@bestbryn

#TBT12lies #throwback thursday #twelve lies i told shingen takeda #ikemen sengoku #fanfic #ikesen shingen #ikesen fanfic #ikesen sasuke #sasuke sarutobi

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moonspower · 11 months

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✨ vi’s high school education... the rundown™.

he attended midland in california for high school. its a crazy academic boarding school for some of the best of the best but the twist is everyone lives in cabins and they gotta pick their own food and heat their own showers. here’s a blurb:

the school is located on 2,860 acres ( 12 km² ) of largely undeveloped ranchland characteristic of central california’s coastal hill country. students live in cabins, which are heated by small woodstoves. ( for students’ safety, their cabins have sprinklers. ) students chop wood to make fires to heat their shower water. some 25 percent of midland’s electricity needs are met with grid-tied, student-installed solar arrays. while the library is wired with high-speed internet connections, several campus buildings were constructed decades ago by students and faculty. cell phones are not allowed on campus.“ midland school is first and foremost a rigorous college preparatory boarding school. while we value experiential education as an integral part of our approach, we are not a shop school, trade school, or an adventure school. the fundamental rigor of midland’s curriculum isn’t watered down with trips or projects that don’t put learning at their core.”

midland’s emphasis on experiential learning extends into our weekend programming. every saturday, midland students have a 3-hour block dedicated to exploring the passions of our community. these workshops broaden the academic horizon by introducing students to activities such as knot-tying mathematics, trail restoration, marine ecosystem exploration, cattle-herding, screen printing, and more. an integral part of midland’s philosophy is self-reliance, and students and faculty perform much of the work that goes into maintaining the school. all students have daily jobs that help maintain the school – carpenters, cooks, classroom cleaners, plumbers, librarians, etc. in addition to daily jobs, faculty and students gather on sunday mornings to hear a senior give a talk on a subject of personal interest. the community breaks into small work crews for 2–3 hours. these crews might clean the assembly / dining hall, venture into the hills to gather firewood, harvest vegetables in the garden, brush down the horses or muck the corral.

#🌙 ABOUT! CANCERIAN SUN SHINING IN THE EVENING.#/ he had a rly unique experience. and he went to high school early in life too so!

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moonglittering · 1 year

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📂📂

✨ @cosmicnexus. meme. still accepting!

📂 vi just a really luvs good fuckin’ charcuterie board. sometimes he don’t wanna slave over the stove in the morning. sometimes he just wanna chill on the roof with some wine first thing in the morning and a buncha nibbles…. fruits galore like strawberries, blackberries, raspberries, orange slices, pineapple, grapes. cheeses like brie, triple cream, goat cheese, havarti, burrata….. prosciutto, salami, ham, cured chorizo, capricola, soppressata, summer sausage, etc for meats. dried fruits like apricots, cherries, figs, pineapple, mango. crackers. chocolate. just throw it all on a big ass tray, head up to the roof, and enjoy.

he does it every couple of days out of the week. mostly because he’s so tired when he gets home. like he’ll cook for himself and he’ll order whatever, but a charcuterie board really hits the spot for him. all the variety too! he loves mixing fruits with cheeses and experimenting with different crackers and bread.

📂 he attended midland in california for high school. its a crazy academic boarding school for some of the best of the best but the twist is everyone lives in cabins and they gotta pick their own food and heat their own showers. here’s a blurb:

The School is located on 2,860 acres ( 12 km² ) of largely undeveloped ranchland characteristic of central California’s coastal hill country. Students live in cabins, which are heated by small woodstoves. ( For students’ safety, their cabins have sprinklers. ) Students chop wood to make fires to heat their shower water. Some 25 percent of Midland’s electricity needs are met with grid-tied, student-installed solar arrays. While the library is wired with high-speed internet connections, several campus buildings were constructed decades ago by students and faculty. Cell phones are not allowed on campus.“ Midland School is first and foremost a rigorous college preparatory boarding school. While we value experiential education as an integral part of our approach, we are not a shop school, trade school, or an adventure school. The fundamental rigor of Midland’s curriculum isn’t watered down with trips or projects that don’t put learning at their core.”

Midland’s emphasis on experiential learning extends into our weekend programming. Every Saturday, Midland students have a 3-hour block dedicated to exploring the passions of our community. These workshops broaden the academic horizon by introducing students to activities such as knot-tying mathematics, trail restoration, marine ecosystem exploration, cattle-herding, screen printing, and more. An integral part of Midland’s philosophy is self-reliance, and students and faculty perform much of the work that goes into maintaining the school. All students have daily jobs that help maintain the school – carpenters, cooks, classroom cleaners, plumbers, librarians, etc. In addition to daily jobs, faculty and students gather on Sunday mornings to hear a senior give a talk on a subject of personal interest. The community breaks into small work crews for 2–3 hours. These crews might clean the assembly / dining hall, venture into the hills to gather firewood, harvest vegetables in the garden, brush down the horses or muck the corral.

so overall, he didn’t have a typical high school experience. even for a private school, his experience was incredibly unique. his favorite courses were: cultural anthropology, writing and a sense of place, ecological field research, trail restoration, representational drawing, foundations of visual art, beginning ceramics, english, anime club which he was president of lolll.

ya boy graduated valedictorian in high school.

#🌙 ABOUT! LET'S MEET ON A MOONLIT PATH.#cosmicnexus #/ imagine this weird goth givin speech on graduation day... with his bright red mohawk.

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outpost-31 · 2 years

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araneri i have a question??? favorite fast food joint, who would u most like to fight right now given the chance, and or ur fave fashion designer(s)

" I don't eat fast food. "

To nobody's suprise, Araneri does, indeed, eat fast food. It's cheap and he's hungry and when he was 15 he couldn't be expected to cook himself something when he was constantly wired. He doesn't much, anymore, he usually picks up the cash from those he's killed to use for what he needs to go out and get (reward for his righteousness). But back then? Certainly. That or he dropped into a diner and spent 15 minutes staring at a menu while a poor waitress tried to take his order. He still doesn't have a favourite, though.

" Most like to fight? That's a charming question.. I've never lost a fight. I think you meant to ask who I'd most like to slaughter.

I don't carry grudges. If I want somebody punished for something they did to me, I take care of it. In terms of ability.. There was a man I spoke to, a few years ago. If he wanted to, he could blow the power grid of an entire town, just like that. His strength was impressive. I've always wondered how it would've gone, if we hadn't.... No, no. I would've won. It doesn't matter. We never fought. Next question "

Love men who are fucking insufferable. Yes, Araneri has a superiority complex out of his ass. We all know this. But, to his credit, he hasn't lost a one-on-one fight (with his stand) so far.

It's HoF's entire power to make his victims clueless to their fate, make them rot away without caring. Without anybody to interrupt, it's a death sentence. There, he has his right to be confident, really

But, that means there's nobody he's dying to fight. When it's so easy for him to act on his judgement, there's nobody he craves a dramatic battle with. There are those who's abilities have impressed him in the past, though. Stand users are drawn to eachother, and all.

" Fashion has never been my.. go-to. Thierry Mugler andVivienne Westwood come to mind. Influential, really. The designs of Sue Blane are.. A mark on my personal wardrobe. "

Kill him right now.

Despite not being particularly punk in presentation, though his music taste is, alot of what Araneri finds himself attached to are those with influence in punk (rock) fashion.

His personal looks are. Like that for a reason. Look through any Thierry Mugler collection for me. thankyou

#asks #ask game #anon #araneri tag #hes soooo insufferable i love writing his dialogue #bash his head in with a brick NOW

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smukher2 · 11 days

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Article: Guest Spotlight: Celebrating Women and Finding Connections Through Farming | Preparing for Broadway on a Week’s Notice | #JonStewart #TheDailyShow: Ears Edition #Podcast https://podcasts.apple.com/ca/podcast/guest-spotlight-celebrating-women-and-finding/id1334878780?i=1000656039808

ArticleSummary:

1) Helen Rebanks and Nick Offerman: Nick Offerman has taken on various memorable roles in different TV shows and movies. Some of his notable characters include Ron Swanson in "Parks and Recreation," Karl Weathers in "Fargo," Frank Fisher in "Hearts Beat Loud," Deputy Chief Hardy in "21 Jump Street" and "22 Jump Street," and Forest in "Devs." In this Daily Show segment, Helen Rebanks and Nick Offerman discuss their friendship and connection through farming, sparked by their mutual admiration for writer Wendell Berry. They talk about the importance of knowing where our food comes from and the value of the hard work involved in farming. Helen shares her experiences living on a farm with her family, emphasizing the importance of celebrating the daily work done by women. The conversation delves into their personal stories, creative projects, and the impact of their farming experiences on their perspectives on food production and sustainability. Nick reflects on his upbringing in a farming community and his deep appreciation for the simplicity and fulfillment of farm life. The segment highlights their shared passion for traditional cooking, family meals, and the connection between food and the environment. 2) Amy Ryan: Amy Ryan portrayed various notable characters in different movies and TV shows, earning recognition for her performances. Some of her roles include Helene McCready in "Gone Baby Gone," Beadie Russell in "The Wire," Holly Flax in "The Office," Adele Brouchard in "Bridge of Spies," Connie in "Birdman," Sister James in "Doubt: A Parable," and Lila Neugebauer in "Sugar.This is a conversation between Amy Ryan and the host Desi Lydic, where they discuss her career, including her roles in "Doubt: A Parable" for which she was nominated for a Tony, and the show "Sugar." They talk about her preparation for roles, her experiences on stage, and her upcoming projects. The discussion also touches on the show's unique twist, her co-stars George Clooney and Brad Pitt in an upcoming movie, and ends with a mention of the season finale of "Sugar" airing on Apple TV+."

Article: New standard for limiting so-called “forever chemicals” in drinking water | #JonStewart #TheDailyShow: Ears Edition #Podcast https://www.podbean.com/site/EpisodeDownload/DIR1E2979A1KD23T

ArticleSummary: "A new US rule will impose limits on forever chemicals in drinking water, requiring utilities to reduce toxic chemicals to the lowest measurable level. The EPA aims to reduce exposure for millions of people and prevent illnesses, including cancer. Some individuals support the regulation, willing to pay more for cleaner water and safer products like Lunchables, which were found to contain dangerous levels of lead. The conversation touches on the importance of health and safety in everyday products, highlighting the need for stricter regulations and consumer awareness."

By #www.smukher2.com #www.smukher2.eu #www.smukher2.co.uk #www.smukher2.org #www.smukher2.net #smukher2 to #Everyone: Thank you Sir Jon Stewart and The Daily Show Team, for Info in recent episodes about 'forever chemicals' such as PFSA, heavy metals, microplastics and 'healthy food' in Podcast/TV Show TheDailyShow! The visit by Nick Offerman and Amy Ryan was delightful. I recognized them from their roles in 'Parks and Recreation' and 'The Office'. It brought back memories of Nick's classic episode, where he aimed to ‘get off the grid’ disconnect from society to safeguard his privacy, as well as the unforgettable episode with Amy, where she was lied to by Dwight that Kevin at the office was mentally retarted (see references). I would like to express my gratitude to Jon and his team for sharing valuable insights on healthy eating, simple living, and deep thinking. His previous discussion on forever chemicals and their detrimental effects left a lasting impact on me. I referred to that particular episode while preparing a submission to one of the Nature journals, focusing on the toxicity of forever chemicals and heavy metals, and the identification of molecular biomarkers associated with them. Despite my efforts, the paper has been in limbo at Nature for months. The feedback from the editors was conflicting, with one emphasizing the computational aspects and another highlighting the biological components. In response, I requested that my paper be transferred to Nature Communications, but there has been no definitive response yet. This situation is not new to me; previously, a similar scenario led me to publish in a different journal from the Cell family Heliyon https://doi.org/10.1016/j.heliyon.2021.e08518. The process of publishing scientific papers often appears influenced by personal connections within academic circles. In my case, it seems that my exposure of unethical practices among principal investigators has created obstacles in securing an academic position or having my papers accepted. Consequently, I have chosen to share my work on HAL Archive France https://hal.science/hal-04084188, where it has been graciously accepted for archiving. Also, another positive thing is in addition to #fairwissenschaft I found that I could also do writing, teaching and knowledge work remotely part-time, full-time or freelancer as digital nomad. This I found on the digital nomad job websites I shared earlier -- ofcourse jobs are there, they have always been there, I have applied for thousands of jobs, the question is will any of them actually defy lobby quota and give me a job. Well maybe digital nomad job applications will be successful, well I hope so. Despite these challenges, today, inspired by the information shared on healthy eating, I am motivated to shift the focus of this post towards "Enhancing Awareness and Mitigating Risks: Understanding PFAS and Promoting Health."

Introduction: The food we consume not only nourishes us but can also serve as a pathway for harmful chemicals to enter our bodies. Substances like pesticides, heavy metals, and PFAS (per- and polyfluoroalkyl substances) pose health risks by contaminating our food and water supply. PFAS (per- and polyfluoroalkyl substances) and plastic are not the same. PFAS are a group of man-made chemicals used in a variety of products such as non-stick cookware, food packaging, and firefighting foam. Plastic, on the other hand, is a synthetic material made from polymers that can be molded into various shapes and forms. While both PFAS and plastic can have environmental and health impacts, they are distinct substances with different properties and uses. Of particular concern are PFAS compounds like PFOA and PFOS, known for their persistence and potential health impacts. Understanding the properties and risks associated with PFAS compounds is crucial for addressing their environmental impact and potential health effects.

Persistence of PFOA and PFOS: PFAS are highly fluorinated chemicals that persist in the environment, bioaccumulate, and pose risks to human health. Compounds like PFOA and PFOS, recognized under the Stockholm Convention, have been linked to various health issues, including cancer and reproductive problems. The continuous concern over these compounds has spurred research into safer alternatives like PFHxA and PFHxS to mitigate their harmful effects.

Health Effects of PFOA and PFOS: PFOA and PFOS exposure has been associated with a range of adverse health effects, from cancer to reproductive issues and metabolic disorders. These "forever chemicals" pose significant risks due to their persistence and bioaccumulation potential. Studies highlight the need for monitoring, regulation, and public awareness to address the toxic effects of PFAS compounds.

Toxicity Variations Among PFAS Isomers: Research suggests that different isomers of PFAS may exhibit varying levels of toxicity, emphasizing the importance of considering isomeric structure in risk assessment. Understanding the toxicological profiles of different PFAS isomers is crucial for evaluating their impact accurately on human health and the environment.

Challenges in Assessing PFAS Toxicity: Evaluating PFAS toxicity poses challenges due to the complexity of contaminant mixtures, difficulty in interpreting effects, and lack of unexposed populations for comparison. Incorporating advanced molecular approaches with sensitive endpoints is essential for comprehensive toxicity assessment and environmental impact evaluation.

Animal Models and Molecular Mechanisms: Studying PFAS-induced toxicity using animal models, genomics, transcriptomics, and advanced molecular techniques provides insights into the effects of these chemicals on health. The PPARγ/RXRα heterodimer plays a primordial role in insulin sensitization by regulating gene expression related to glucose and lipid metabolism. PFAS has been shown to effect formation of this heterodimer to disrupt normal physiological processes, leading to various health conditions associated with impaired insulin sensitivity. Understanding signal pathways like PPARα and assessing toxic effects in humans and animals strengthen epidemiological evidence and inform preventive actions.

Environmental Concerns and Contamination: The discharge of PFAS into the environment due to industrialization raises significant environmental concerns. Contaminated drinking water poses challenges as PFAS persist in the environment and resist conventional treatment methods. Effective monitoring, management, and regulation are crucial to mitigate PFAS contamination and safeguard public health.

Discussion and Future Directions: Implementing industrial restrictions, promoting safer alternatives, providing targeted therapies, and adopting sustainable practices are key strategies to limit exposure to PFAS and address their adverse effects comprehensively.

Empowering Health Through Holistic Practices: Embracing a holistic approach to environmental health and food safety involves promoting healthy eating habits, sustainable practices, targeted therapies, preventive actions, and supporting policies that regulate harmful chemicals like PFAS. By adopting a lifestyle focused on wellness and sustainability, individuals can reduce exposure to harmful substances and contribute to a healthier future.

Reducing PFAS Exposure from Junk Food: Choosing alternative cooking methods, avoiding fast food with potential PFAS contamination, checking labels on baked goods for PFAS content, using non-stick cookware alternatives, making popcorn at home, supporting companies eliminating PFAS use, and advocating for transparent labeling can help reduce exposure to these harmful chemicals. In summary, by being mindful of potential risks associated with chemicals in food and water, taking proactive steps to reduce exposure, promoting health-conscious practices, and advocating for environmental sustainability, individuals can contribute to a safer and healthier living environment for themselves and future generations.

References: Ron Swanson (Nick Offerman) attempts to go off the grid when a mysterious pennysaver magazine shows up at his new address | Parks And Recreation | https://youtu.be/GDDof2NHInA Dwight convinces the new HR rep Holly (Amy Ryan) that Kevin is mentally challenged | The Office | https://youtu.be/eEaNInquO0Y Shradha Mukherjee. Machine Learning classifier built with heavy metal signature biomarker genes as features to distinguish between heavy metal exposure from non-heavy metal exposure gene expression samples. 2023. ⟨hal-04084188⟩ https://hal.science/hal-04084188 Mukherjee S. Immune gene network of neurological diseases: Multiple sclerosis (MS), Alzheimer's disease (AD), Parkinson's disease (PD) and Huntington's disease (HD). Heliyon. 2021 Dec 1;7(12):e08518. doi: 10.1016/j.heliyon.2021.e08518. PMID: 34926857; PMCID: PMC8649734. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.heliyon.2021.e08518 WHO expert consultation on updating the 2005 toxic equivalency factors for dioxin like compounds, including some polychlorinated biphenyls https://www.who.int/news/item/15-03-2024-who-expert-consultation-on-updating-the-2005-toxic-equivalency-factors-for-dioxin-like-compounds-including-some-polychlorinated-biphenyls Ultraprocessed foods linked to heart disease, diabetes, mental disorders and early death, study finds https://edition.cnn.com/2024/02/28/health/ultraprocessed-food-health-risks-study-wellness/index.html Food Trends and Popular Nutrition Advice Online – Implications for Public Health https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC6194095/ PFAS Explained | EPA https://www.epa.gov/pfas/pfas-explained Food and Climate Change: Healthy diets for a healthier planet | UN https://www.un.org/en/climatechange/science/climate-issues/food Omics Advances in Ecotoxicology ACS https://pubs.acs.org/doi/10.1021/acs.est.7b06494 Current Review of Increasing Animal Health Threat of Per- and Polyfluoroalkyl Substances (PFAS): Harms, Limitations, and Alternatives to Manage Their Toxicity 2023 https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC10380748/ Binding of Per- and Polyfluoroalkyl Substances (PFAS) to the PPARγ/RXRα–DNA Complex 2023 https://pubs.acs.org/doi/abs/10.1021/acs.jcim.3c01384 Plastic Food Packaging from Five Countries Contains Endocrine- and Metabolism-Disrupting Chemicals 2024 https://pubs.acs.org/doi/10.1021/acs.est.3c08250 Plastic containers can contain PFAS — and it’s getting into food https://news.nd.edu/news/plastic-containers-can-contain-pfas-and-its-getting-into-food/ The Hidden Dangers of Fast and Processed Food 2018 https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC6146358/

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dailylu-blog · 2 months

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ps wire cooking grid, 14.4375 x 24.8125; Backyard Grill

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alex-god · 7 months

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Magazine project

Cooking magazine:

The idea is to make a lifestyle/cooking magazine where you might find some nice recipes, as well as some neat tips and tricks to store different vegetables longer, or make something much cheaper at home. This magazine would include multiple different “kitchen hacks” to help improve efficiency and cost in a household by encouraging healthier eating habits. There would also be different articles informing customers about the benefits of certain foods, as well as advertisements. Most recipe pages will be made using column grid, as well as potentially some compound column grid deconstructed by collage. The cover will be utilizing spontaneous geometric composition or column grid deconstructed by collage. This will be inspired of different cooking magazines such as Ricardo, Coup de Pouce, and Canadian Living. The pages will be 11” x 8.5”, printed on glossy paper, to replicate the feeling of those kitchen magazines. I will take existing recipes from different magazines and cookbooks as well as find different articles to incorporate in the design. If I can, I will have it binded with two staples along the spine and the top cover glued onto the spine. Usually, those magazines are made with multiple booklets, but since I will only be doing 20 pages, I will stick with doing a single booklet with the cover glued onto it. The format will help everything be clear and readable, to allow people easy use while cooking with it. This also allows for people to have a nice size when reading wellness articles. As mentioned earlier, since the goal of the magazine is to be informational and useful, the design placements will remain simple, mainly focusing on the basics of column grid, modular grid and hierarchical grid. The title page and some advertisements might present spontaneous geometric composition, column grid deconstructed by collage, or hierarchic grid with filmic collage deconstruction.

Rock band magazine:

The idea is to have a rock and/or punk magazine that explores different bands, new and old, and gives a description, analysis and ratings of different bands. This would also include different discussions about issues in the community and feature advertisements for different clothing companies, band tours or events. This would be composed of pictures and designs that incorporate the different logos and slogans, some made up, of different bands. There would also be some articles with a few pictures and drawings that I will either find online or draw myself. The pages will most probably present different textures and small designs behind the text such as barb wire, some textures, some bones, the anarchist logo and many more elements that resonate with the culture. I’m planning on making this mostly in color, but I might have some pages only in black and white as many punk magazines are printed only in black and white to save on the production cost. The magazine would be inspired by The Rolling Stones magazine, a culturally important magazine in Rock, as well as Punktuation, an online punk magazine. This will also be inspired by different skater/punk DIY/independent magazines that I've came across. The format would be a 5.5” by 8.5” as it would look more like a small underground magazine that wouldn't be hard to produce at home to fit the DIY aesthetic of punk culture. This would be done on a regular 11” x 8.5” sheet of paper, folded in half and binded with two staples across the spine of the book. This will be an effective format to convey the message as it really goes with the “vibe”, aesthetic and values of punk culture. The idea behind the culture is to be very independent and to do things yourself and go against censure, therefore a small independent “DIY” magazine really fits the theme. The different layouts that I will be using will be column grid deconstructed by collage, compound column and hierarchical grid, as well as the modular grid deconstructed via chance operation. Some more conventional styles will include the column grid and the modular grid.

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curvycarbivore · 7 months

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Ricotta Mushroom Flatbread Pizza (Vegan)

Yield: 2 servings | Prep time: 10 minutes | Cook time: 15 minute | Total time: 25 minutes

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I'm always down for a quick and easy meal, especially if that meal involves pizza with inexpensive ingredients. Atoria's Family Bakery flatbreads are super soft out of the package, but get nice and crispy in the oven. I was surprised at how inexpensive they were, at only $3.99 for a pack of 5 at Sprout's! I decided to cover mine with some homemade vegan ricotta, mushrooms, spinach, and tomato (which was a fantastic combination) and the flatbread held all of my heavy toppings. Packed with protein but low in calories, this flatbread is worth every bite.

Ingredients:

1 Atoria's Family Bakery Traditional Lavash Flatbread

1/2 block (8oz) of extra firm tofu

1 tbsp extra virgin olive oil

1 tbsp nutritional yeast

1 tsp garlic powder

1 tsp dried oregano

1 tsp dried basil

Salt & pepper to taste

1 package of baby bella mushrooms, sliced

2 cloves of garlic, minced

1 handful of fresh spinach

5-6 grape tomatoes, sliced

Balsamic glaze for topping

Directions:

Preheat your oven to 400° F.

Prep your veggies: slice the mushrooms, mince the garlic, and slice the tomatoes in half.

First, cook the mushrooms by heating a frying pan over medium heat on the stove.

Add the sliced mushrooms and cook for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally, until they are browned (add a splash of water if they are sticking to the pan).

Add the minced garlic and spinach, and cook for 1 more minute until the spinach is just wilted.

Remove from heat and set aside.

While the mushrooms are cooking, make the vegan ricotta.

Press your tofu to remove as much liquid as possible. Wrap in a kitchen or paper towel, then gently squeeze as much the liquid out over the sink.

Place the pressed tofu in a large bowl and, using the back-side of a fork, smash it until it's crumbly and fluffy.

Add the olive oil, nutritional yeast, garlic powder, oregano, basil, salt, and pepper to the tofu.

Mix with a spoon, continuing to break up the tofu with the back of the spoon in the process. The more you mix it, the fluffier and more ricotta-cheese-like it will become.

Now that your mushrooms and ricotta are done, it's time to assemble the flatbread.

Take one sheet of Atoria's Family Bakery flatbread and place it on a baking sheet.

Spread the entire bowl of ricotta evenly on the flatbread.

Top with the cooked mushroom spinach mixture and grape tomatoes.

Bake for 6-7 minutes or until the edges of the flatbread are browned.

Remove from the oven and divide it into 6 pieces.

Drizzle with the balsamic glaze and enjoy!

Tips and Tricks:

To make the flatbread even crispier, try baking it on a pizza screen or a grid wire rack. This can help the entire underside of the flatbread get nice and crispy.

Store any extra slices in an air-tight container for up to 3 days. Bake again at 400° F for a few minutes to reheat.

Paid partnership with Atoria's Family Bakery

#entrees #pizza #vegan #vegan food #vegan dinner #pizza recipe #flatbread #tofu recipe

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meinemung · 10 months

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Tech PM Girl Layoff Experience I wake up in stages. It's a smooth process as the multisensory alarm clocked used a combination of visual, olfactory, and auditory cues to gently wake me up whilst minimally disrupting circadian rhythm. Alternatively, it was flashing, playing muzak, and releasing a scent that was oddly reminiscent of Poo-Pourri into my 600-foot-square flat. I let it keep doing its thing while I grab my phone off the nightstand and catch myself up on the food pictures of college friends and what happened in the world while I was sleeping. I read some story about the plight of some molybdenum miners - I give a 'support' emoji in reaction and feel flushed . I also check my LinkedIn - nothing too interesting has happened. Some desperate wannabes who just so happened to graduate from the same university blew up my inbox for requests for referral. Do I know these people…? Next.

I press a button on the wall that slides up the shades - I am greeted with the excellent view of faceless office buildings of downtown Bellevue, slightly distorted by the pitter-pattering of a cold fall rain. I step onto the heated floor of my spacious bathroom and apply my mascara - I tell myself I always should have been a surgeon.

I check my calendar for the day. Daily standup at 11, some design meeting for two hours after lunch. The meeting load's relatively light for today. And oh, I see that my boss has scheduled a Zoom meeting for 3:30 in the afternoon. And her boss's attending too, along with some random HRBP Melissa. Oh, it must be because I created a new slack bot that looks up gender identities that perhaps are lesser known, and they're giving me an award! That must be it.

I sipped on my arugula - blueberry superfood smoothie while looking out at the tiny cars moving like clockwork along the slick, gridded streets. I feel an immense sense of satisfaction looking out at the tall buildings - monuments to the victory of the personal computer. I catch my reflection in the empty glass and back for a while in my awesomeness.

I fiddle around half heartedly with some wire-frames and add a few items to my to-do list. I then put on my anorak and boots and head out the door. The luscious "ooh whees" of my favorite song "Makeba" by Jain start playing as I put the white Model 3 in gear and peel out of the garage, wanting to make standup in the office.

The office is a gigantic glass-encrusted edifice near the mall. Multiple companies have offices here - including a coworking space (lame), the big M, some indie game studio, a generic Japanese e-commerce outfit, and of course our lovely company that connects the connected generation to the products they love.

Standup was mostly in Zoom, save for me and a girl that I'm roughly friendly with. I gave my update and pretended to be interested while the seniors blathered on about strategic priorities.

Lunch today consisted of Peruvian flank steak cooked sous vide in lemon ouzo marinade along with mixed spring vegetables topped off with fennel flavored mochi balls for dessert. I chewed mechanically, catching myself up with what happened in the world while I was in stand-up.

I took the design meeting at the desk. Everyone says that the weather here is garbage, but I honestly find it truly energizing to be sipping a blonde roast on the dry side of a pane of glass coated with droplets.

Then 3:30 came around and I suddenly felt a strange sensation in my stomach. Was the food not agreeing with me? Some of the options they got weren't fully organic, that I know. They were trying to cut costs, something about providing a return for their investors. Psh - I think that happy workers come first and only then do innovation and happy investors come. But I'm still excited for receiving commendation from my higher ups. Maybe I'll even be promoted! But there's also a queasy feeling that I can't entirely place, a feeling that I don't particularly feel like I should be experiencing.

I click on the Zoom link and … the queasy feeling spreads up to my throat. In three neat boxes are my boss, my skip, and some random HRBP drone, all with expressions that seem a bit too calculated. After some generic politenesses, then comes the money shot. "Given the current direction of our business, we were forced to make a few tough choices," my boss says. Her eyes were too shiny and appeared soulless with Zoom's post-processing. "It was an extremely difficult decision to make but regrettably your position has been impacted." My eyes widened and I could only could nod and say "thank you" dumbly as the HRBP detailed the severance plan and how the company was going to "support in my transition." I felt a burning sensation in the back of my throat and a sour taste in my mouth. I smush a finger against the webcam and throw up the ouzo beef and my superfood breakfast in the meeting room's wastebasket.

The meeting ends cordially. My last day is today. Anything I don't collect will be kindly shipped to me. I'll have to turn in my laptop and my badge as a condition of receiving my severance.

The view outside is now oppressive. The buildings, instead of being inspiring, are drab boxes beneath a drab sky. The weather suddenly seems oppressive, and I suddenly long for the straightforwardly bluish-yellow skies of California where I grew up. The cars out in the rain move unceasingly, reminding me how the world will never stop for me. It reminds me how everyone will move on without me. Tears well, pregnant and teetering at the edge of my eyes, but never fall.

I'm hungry and grab a quinoa chicken salad from the well-stocked Subzero fridges in the common area. My coworker is nowhere to be found. Was she "affected" too? I wish I could have someone to talk to but the common area is deserted.

Taking the first bite and realizing that all this was gone from me forever, the tears finally break, flowing down my cheeks, warm and itching, into the salad. My chest heaves slightly while I keep shoveling spoonfuls of the salad into my mouth and swallowing without fully chewing. I use a warm lavender towel to wipe off the mascara streaming down my face.

I grab a garbage bag from the supply cabinet and began ransacking the supply cabinet. I grab handfuls of all kinds of chips, staplers, notebooks, and yes, portions of the chicken salad and throw them willy-nilly into the bag.

The drive home is numb. For once there's no music except for the sound of the tires on rain-soaked pavement. The garbage bag of stuff rattle around in the frunk, and the Bankers Box of my personal effects slides around in the trunk.

I get home and check my fridge. Nothing but this organic crap. I had planned out a portion of buckwheat oatmeal along with some plant-based for tonight, but my stomach twisted immediately hearing. Fuck it, I'm going to Burger King.

Three whoppers, twenty nuggets, and one frosty later, I was in the elevator of my building. It was filled with people yet they were unseen, hidden behind the neat, thick walls. They were all enjoying their lives, preparing for their productive lives tomorrow, while I was going to, what? Cry and eat Phish Phood all day before dragging my sweatpants-clad ass to wait in the unemployment line?

I soaked for a long while in the tub thinking about nothing. I pulled up my phone and bring up the LinkedIn app. Some cheery business updates - about some new product the company was launching made my stomach churn. I decide to scroll through my connections to see if any were at companies that I might be interested to work at. A few clicks later,. After writing a few sentences that went something like "I was regrettably recently affected by the layoffs at …." but actually said "I'm utterly desperate", I realized that I barely know this person… even though they may have attended the same school as me, who would help someone they barely knew? I put the phone down, cursor still blinking, and fall asleep.

#tech #layoffs

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