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#fourth third monday
fiftypiercings · 2 months
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married joongdok but not in a conventional way because dokja returns home at 3 in the morning, fucking wasted, probably smelling like incompetence and regrets. an intoxicated migraine brewing up while he's trying his best to reach the kitchen for a glass of water in the dark but then there's joonghyuk standing ominously in the path with a knife and lighter in his hands, the trashcan's on fire and cell block tango is playing somewhere in the background.
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solar-halos · 2 months
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for this mood board monday, i present yet another ficboard. the board in question is of franka by @ongreenergrasses
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#PLEASE let me explain myself#so the first pic (top left corner) is meant to parallel the third pic (top right corner)#because they’re both slow dancing pics BUT i feel like the first pic is more desperate and looks more like an attempt at comfort#which i felt like fit into chapter two. whereas third pic is a nod to all the dancing they did at the wedding in ch1#then the second pic is a reference to how snow called on the phone. wanted it to be dark and shady#dark academia if u will#but i also thought the pearls were nice d4 touch#then the fourth pic is a reference to the shower scene in ch2#then the fifth pic was me trying to encapsulate the intimacy of ch1’s sex scene#then the sixth pic is just how i imagine they were at ch1’s wedding#like imagine ur a wedding guest and u look over at odesta and they’re just like O.O at each other#seventh pic: canned peaches >> fresh peaches. ik this prob wasn’t a very accurate pic#but the other options were like. grocery store stock images#eighth pic: annie after ch1 tbh. next pic: a reference of their meeting w snow. rose isn’t on fire *yet*#then the next two pics were me being fake as fuck that’s why they’re the smallest LMAO#like in ch1 finnick carries annie when they’re already inside and the slit in annie’s dress has already been sewn up#but the mental image of finnick carrying her was scute. if only the dress didn’t have the slit!!!#but also it’s a reference to finnick being a Leg Person?? fucking based tbh#i rlly wanted to do the sun persists in rising but imma have to hold off until it’s finished so the vibes are optimal#anywayyy sorry for yet another long tagged post i just felt like this one needed a lot of explaining#odesta#annie cresta#mood board monday
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gar-a-ash · 5 months
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Hello yes I need a support group for dogs that are too smart. Signed Tassie up for a scentwork class but even though we've been practicing, we've only used the one odor (birch), so I figured I'd at least introduce her to the new odor (anise) tonight and see how she does searching for it. My swabs are extremely stale (have never refreshed them since I got them and forgot to buy the oil oops), to the point where I could barely smell the oil from the jar and not at all on the swabs. No big deal, I'll put two swabs in to compensate and see how it goes.
First search is container with birch to let her see that we're doing a container search, and warm her up. Takes her a bit to realize what we're doing, finds the box no problem. I then swap the birch box for the anise box, keeping it in the same spot to help her, and send her out (after letting her sniff the swabs and getting treated for it of course).
And she finds it in less than 30 seconds.
Okay, she's cheating with the location but still, HUGE party oh my god you're so smart what a good girl! Let's try the box in a new spot.
10 seconds.
What the hell is this a fluke? Let's record this next run.
Less than 30 seconds again with getting distracted by my sausages.
Okay, let's see about stumping her. We'll throw the birch box back in, and make her look for BOTH. Is it just ODOR or will the familiar scent get her distracted?
Not a problem. Finds the anise first even with stale swabs and I just refreshed her birch swabs a week ago. Quick search. The hell.
Anyways this dog hated scent work six months ago and was the biggest brat about learning it, but I guess we'll try her in some public searches Monday to see how she does because there's no WAY this isn't a fluke. And if it isn't holy shit.
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sometimes when I think about how my roommates treated me when I had COVID I get so angry I lose speech
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lynnorien · 1 year
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grumbles
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HRAGHS why am i so cold right now STOP THSI
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hiiiiii <3
we did!! nothing at school today <3 testing but i don't have any classes that test whooooooo
i had a chicken sandwich for breakfast mmmm cold chicken <33
i had a couple cookies in my lunch and then a brownie later and all three were v good!!
i had a roast beef sandwich as a snack and mmmmmmmmm,,, cold meats my beloved ig aklfjdas;lkfj
we had pizza for dinner and there's enough left over for me to have some for breakfast tomorrow 👀
caleb city
hung out with my friends during lunch /so pos it was just !!!!
one of my teachers had like an extra credit thing last week ?? and i did it but i didn't need the extra credit he was offering so i asked and now i don't have to do like any of the online assignments <3
i have had! a speeding ticket! hanging over my head! for a month!!! and i finally got that dealt with!!!!!!!!
okay this is the highlight this is the big one: rac and mob
we hung out in vc for a few hours and in the latter half then we played the room and it was SO so fun but honestly the whole time was a delight i love them both so much <333333
also during this time then i had a nice convo with a few peeps in another server :]] it's been a while since i've talked there so that was nice!!!
found this song and it's so silly and fun i love it <33
omg last minute addition: tomotasauce's new vid
it's been so long since i've been able to watch any of his stuff since i'm not caught up on amphibia or toh so being able to watch this was HILARIOUS i loved it lajf;lsdkjf;
also idk if i've mentioned it yet but i've been bingeing theamandafiles' acnh playlist and it'd been a week or so since i watched any but i watched more today and she's so great <33
putting playing puzzle games with rac and george again 🥺
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So I binge watched konosuba in two days, yes including the movie. XD The dubbed was funny as fuck and I will share some of my favorite screenshots.
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windwardstar · 3 months
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no trust us this time our strict binary about gender is right because it's trans inclusive /sarcasm
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f1version · 1 year
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11. “am I your favorite?” “I like your dog a bit more than you I won’t lie” with max but instead of dog it’s cats🫶🫶
P1 IN YOUR HEART ★ MV1
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pairing: max verstappen x fem! gf! reader
summary: 5 times you told Max his cats were P1 in your heart, and 1 time he did a Grand Slam.
warnings: 5 + 1 format ( it’s my first time doing it ), fluff, teasing & joking, established relationship, sassy and jimmy are the favorites ( duh! )
word count: 1.7k
note: this just reminded me how much i LOVE writing fluff, thank you kay <3
general masterlist ★ 1k special
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1. SEPTEMBER 30, 2023
The first time it happened, it was Max’s birthday. It wasn’t race week and the obnoxious party Red Bull was going to throw him, was the following day. That left you, Max, Jimmy, and Sassy against the world.
“You are so pretty,” Max said while petting Sassy. You smiled, he loved those little beings so much.
“They may be my favorite thing on this house” You answered jokingly, Jimmy crawling into your lap “Taking P1 indeed”
Max looked at you funny because was he really behind his cats? You bet. Max Verstappen loved being first, even if it meant fighting his cats to be P1 in your heart.
“Oh really?” the Dutchman teased “I’ll be the judge of that” He finished as he picked up Jimmy from your lap and ran away.
2. NOVEMBER 28, 2023
The second time it happened, it was Tuesday, two days after Abu Dhabi. Max had already secured his third world championship back in September, but RedBull had kept both of you there until Monday for partying.
You had just arrived at your shared apartment in Monaco, Jimmy and Sassy surprisingly purring at your arrival, tangling in your feet.
“Hi lovelies!” you said softly, petting both of their tiny heads “How are my favorite beings in the universe?”
“Oh, now they’re your universe?” Max complained, leaving his bags on the floor to pet his cats too “I figured a three-time world champion would be”
You just laughed at his childish behavior “Oh shut up, Maxie. Let them have their moment”
3. DECEMBER 31, 2023
The third time, was on New Year’s Day. You were at a party in Monaco, the sky adorned with stars, and the place was full of friends, family, and colleagues; One minute away from giving a warm welcome to 2024.
Max was holding you close, one arm around your waist, the other one caressing your arm. Your arms were wrapped around his torso, eyes focused on the stars before they drifted to him.
“Maxie” You called, he hummed, his arm around your waist losing a bit. “What’s your year's resolution?”
You and Max usually took that question as a joke, even after you achieved the majority of last year's. Max thought about it for at least 8 seconds before a grin popped on his lips.
“That one’s obvious. I will overtake the cats and become P1 in your heart,” He said, unserious. You laughed.
“Hard one. They will always be my favorite”
Max rolled his eyes, bringing you close one more time that year, his eyes shined with happiness and little mischief.
His temple met yours.
“Well, they don’t get to kiss you right…three, two…now”
Cheers and celebrations were shared while Max cupped your cheeks, kissing you sweetly.
“Happy new year, schatje”
4. JANUARY 29, 2024
The fourth time was on purpose. Max was away in Milton Keynes for testing and practice, you were home with two little creatures.
It had been a long day at the office and you missed Max, so around dusk, you decided to tease him a bit with a picture of the cats.
you: [ 1 image attached ]
you: actually my favorites ever EVER
Max laughed at loud when he saw it, getting a whistle from Christian and a pat on the back from Danny (they had just wrapped up a meeting). Max rolled his eyes, focusing back on your messages. He could win this one.
max: you know what’s my favorite EVER?
you: what?
max: [ 1 image attached ]
max: the new car😍😍😍
you: i could fight you and your vroom vroom AND win
max: good luck with that schatje
5. FEBRUARY 14, 2024
The fifth time was on Valentine’s Day. That morning, when buying groceries, you found yourself in the middle of the pet section, buying a couple some cat accessories and costumes for Valentine’s Day.
You were so eager to try it on the cats that when you got home, you discarded the other bags in the kitchen knowing Max would organize everything while you styled the two furry demons.
“Max! Look at their little costumes!” You said picking up Sassy, she had a heart-shaped antenna headband and a tutu.
“I’m one hundred percent sure she will hate you for the rest of her life” Max answered picking up his phone to take a photo.
“Oh yeah?” You challenged, picking up Jimmy so Max could take a photo of him too. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, since I’m hers and Jim’s favorite… and they’re my favorite”
“Really, schat? On Valentine’s Day?” Max said in faked disbelief “I knew you hated me, but this is heartless”
You just laughed, turning around so you could take off the costumes before they were destroyed.
“I love you, babe!”
“Blah, blah, blah,” Max said “I love you too”
+1 . . . CLOSURE
Finally, it was a “normal” Sunday. Max had a two-week break before the next race, so he took one week off the factory to be with you.
But the thing is, Max, had been acting suspicious. All week long he had been so secretive but also so loving and touchy. What made you realize something was a bit off was his attitude around Friday, Saturday, and today.
On Friday, he decided to go hiking with you, gifting you a beautiful bracelet with three charms: A cat that looked just like Jimmy, a second cat that looked like Sassy, and a couple for both of you. You were used to Max gifting you things, usually, they were simple, handmade items, but he also bought you expensive stuff. You loved everything he gave you.
Then Saturday came. He prepared a dinner date in your favorite Monegasque restaurant, where he gave you flowers and a necklace, it had a heart with an M engraved on it. You loved it.
Even after two days of wonderful gifts and sunshine, Sunday morning was still a surprise. Max decided to wake you up with breakfast in bed and tons of kisses, a lovely morning of you asked anyone.
After that, he said you had to be ready for a picnic at 4 PM, you could have begged him to tell you why but you knew he was stubborn enough to resist everything.
Either way, that’s why you found yourself at the top of Monte Carlo, having a picnic while the sun was burned by the ocean.
“So, are you going to tell me what’s been this weekend?” You asked after taking a sip of wine, it was enchanté.
“Why? Is it out of character?” He asked back jokingly, you rolled your eyes, smiling. “I’m joking”
“I know”
“Follow me”
You grabbed Max’s hand, getting up from the floor. He started walking towards the sunset, golden light shining on his face, blue eyes turning green.
“This past month, we have been talking—daydreaming about a life together” Max started, you nodded “And, yes, we already live together but remember how we wanted more?”
You nodded again, your chest growing warm, this had to be going the place you wanted it to. This had to be the moment you had been waiting for. Max got close, taking your other hand in his as the sky turned pink.
“Well, I figured a couple of months ago before the season started,” He continued “That I want to spend the rest of my days, nights, years, life, and eternity with you”
He started to move away, making up space for a final movement.
“So, I wanted to know,” He knelt “Would you marry me?”
The world stopped. It stopped and even if the sun was setting, daylight had just sprung out from the bottom of Earth.
You started shaking your head yes.
“Yes! Yes, and a million times yes!” You exclaimed, wrapping your arms around him.
Max let out a loud sigh, laughing a bit before sliding the ring into your finger and launching himself at you “Thank you, baby. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you so so much”
“I love you so much more, Max”
There were hugs, kisses, laughter, and the dizzying feeling of adrenaline drove the car to the top of the podium. Max, drunk in happiness, cupped your face in his hands.
“Now that's out of the way. Am I your favorite?” He asked, almost laughing, but so hopeful. He was so cute.
“Max Emilian Verstappen!”
“I’m just joking…” He laughed, hugging you for a second and then holding your waist “But am I?”
“I like your cats a bit more than you, I won’t lie”
“Oh for fu-”
That’s when this whole situation clicked for you. Max had started all of this on Friday so it could be like a race weekend, finishing P1 on Sunday’s race.
“Schatje, I’m kidding, you’ve always been my favorite,” You said, now you were cupping his face in your hands “And you just did a Grand Slam,” You said, kissing your future husband.
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izzysarchivedblogs · 1 year
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@mr-tony-stark liked for a starter (post here)! you get clint barton!
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Visitors aren't unwelcome at the Barton-Pizza Dog residence. In fact, he gets more than he has fingers to count. Typically, there are two reasons that people come to his apartment unannounced.
They were angry with him, or they needed a place to lie low.
A secret third option which was really just option one was they were angry and they were his exes. That last part was important information because he's got a list of exes that were his fault things ended and they were relatively on good terms. For the most part, save for Jessica.
Clint's not even aware the door is being pounded on until Lucky is jumping on his chest and pestering to get to the door. It was suppose to be a lazy day albeit being a Monday.
Ugh, Mondays.
No one should be popping by, not even Kate. The super secret fourth option for reasons why people came to the apartment, Kate Bishop, mini-him with less mistakes.
"That's quite enough, Luck." He utters, knowing that the dog is barking as he saunters to the doorway and much to his surprise. It's Tony Stark.
What could he be doing here? He's not Kate Bishop, he is not an ex. There doesn't seem to be an angry expression on his brow, and Tony has money enough to buy a private island to lay low on.
Before he is standing there dumbstruck for too long, he points a finger up to his face. "Sign, text me, or let me gets the aids in." No way is he trying to lip read after waking from a nap, it'd be like fifteen percent less accurate than he normally could lip read and that was only about thirty percent accuracy most of the time anyways.
Wait. Tony would totally blow up his phone before showing up unannounced-
"Oh! Right, so my phone got dropped off a building."
Clint's leaving the door wide open, turning away to go retrieve his hearing aids from the kitchen while he lets Tony deal with Lucky whose sniffing at his knee and checking out the hallway.
"What's up? No Avenger business, right? I told you I'm off duty."
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luvkyu · 7 months
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and i ( zhang hao )
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zhang hao x male reader
hao is slightly obsessed with another violinist
content : 1.7k words, fluff, violinist!hao x violinist!reader, music terms, v shy hao, mention of vom!t ( just used as exaggeration )
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"make sure you go into a heavier crescendo here, okay? this is the biggest climax of the song."
zhang hao nodded sheepishly. it was hard to stay focused on his violin when his mentor was so attractive. especially while sitting right beside him.
"i think a little more vibrato here would be good too, but you can worry more about the actual notes for now if you like," y/n said with a soft smile as he pointed to the sheet music. he could tell hao was nervous, so he was trying his best to keep a light hearted atmosphere.
"it's okay, i can do the vibrato," hao assured.
y/n smiled and nodded. he liked how determined hao was.
"alright, let's run through it one more time and then we'll be done for the day," y/n said.
hao raised his violin back up, straight posture and impeccable bow hold. y/n smiled in approval before doing the same, the sounds of their strings soon filling the practice room.
hao was a second year in their performing arts college. y/n was a fourth year and a first chair violinist in the school's competitive chamber orchestra. the pair had met during hao's first year, but never exchanged more than a few words.
y/n spent a lot of his time helping struggling first and second years with adjusting to their harder music pieces, so when hao spoke up, y/n was happy to help. now they met about three times a week to practice, and hao just received new sheet music that was a complete eyesore.
"good, that was really good," y/n praised happily. "how're you feeling with this piece so far?"
"it's fun, it's just a lot.." hao replied while loosening his bow. y/n nodded.
"yeah, i know. at least we got through the whole first page today! we'll work on the second one next time."
hao nodded as he began putting his things away. y/n gazed at him for a second, admiring how soft his personality seemed.
"y'know, you're a really good violinist, hao."
hao looked up at him with wide eyes. y/n was standing up now, violin hanging from his fingers and a gentle smile resting on his lips. hao could feel his cheeks turning red.
"..thank you. i really like playing, so that means a lot."
y/n nodded in return. "are you gonna try out for the chamber orchestra next year? they let some third years in."
hao thought about it for a moment. he carefully closed his violin case and latched the locks.
"mm.. i'm not sure."
"well," y/n began, "i think you should. if you want to, of course."
hao blushed and nodded in response. he wasn't really sure how to talk to y/n. not when he had the biggest crush on him known to mankind. he could feel y/n's eyes still on him, and for just a second, he wondered if y/n possibly liked him back.
"anyway, i'll see you back here monday?" y/n asked brightly. hao nodded, trying to give his best smile.
y/n hung his violin case over his shoulder and gathered his sheet music before waving goodbye. hao followed his exit, beginning to walk the opposite way to his dorm.
after finally getting back home, zhang hao threw his bags aside with a sigh. he gave more care to his violin case, setting it down gently. taerae stood in the small corner kitchen with a bowl of food in his hands.
"hey, hao. you good?"
"mm," hao mumbled. he went into the kitchen with the other and took a water from their fridge.
"y/n again?" taerae asked with a small chuckle.
hao nodded, "i'm so into him. i hate it."
"i don't know why you won't just ask him out."
hao shrugged. taerae set his bowl down as he gazed at his roommate. hao was so down bad, and taerae hated that he refused to do anything about it. he rolled his eyes and lightly slapped his hand on the counter.
"alright," taerae declared, "you're coming with me tonight. i'm going to his concert to write a review piece for the school paper, so i can get you a ticket too."
"there's a concert tonight??" hao asked with wide eyes.
"yeah, with the chamber orchestra. how did you not know that?"
"i have no idea. i guess i've been too preoccupied."
"sure, preoccupied with y/n."
"..shut up."
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zhang hao was shivering. not because it was cold, but because he was nervous. more nervous than he'd ever been, even on his first day of college. he had a small bouquet of flowers in one hand, and his phone in the other with a deathly tight grip. he stood frozen for a moment as he stared at the large theater in front of him.
"hey, relax," taerae's voice cut through his anxiety, "it'll be okay."
hao nodded, trying to let a smile curve on his lips. he could barely see y/n on the stage, as he and taerae were still by the entrance. the orchestra was tuning and warming up, but he could make out y/n's styled hair and pretty smile from far away. he seemed to be talking to the violinist beside him about the sheet music. hao felt his heart swell. seeing y/n in his formal concert attire was almost too much for him.
"c'mon, let's get to our seats," taerae said eagerly. hao nodded again and followed his friend to a pair of seats that were much closer to the stage than he thought.
"oh, he's right in front!" taerae exclaimed quietly, pointing to y/n.
"mhm, he's first chair."
taerae looked over at hao as he looked at y/n.
"taerae?"
"hm?"
"he looks so good i'm gonna throw up," hao muttered. taerae rolled his eyes with a small snicker.
zhang hao took a deep breath and looked down at his hands. he laid the flowers in his lap before rubbing his palms together.
"wait, i think he sees us!" taerae enthused.
hao's head shot back up to find his crush's eyes resting on him. a smile quickly sprouted on y/n's face, keeping his gaze set on hao.
"oh, i hate him.. why is he staring at me like that.."
"cause he likes you, dumb fuck."
hao looked over at taerae with wide eyes before going back to y/n.
"maybe he's just surprised to see me. he didn't know i was coming so.."
taerae rolled his eyes. he watched hao muster up the courage to wave at y/n, the male sending a tiny wave back with his violin bow.
the lights soon died down as the audience began clapping and the conductor made his way out to join the orchestra. hao loved watching y/n become all serious as he lifted his violin to his chin in sync with the others.
throughout the pieces of music, taerae took notes for the school paper, while hao simply sat in awe. he'd seen them perform before, but it was like a new experience every time. the group was so professional and well put together. hao hoped he could be at such a level soon.
by the time it was over, zhang hao was even more of a nervous wreck. he waited with taerae by their seats, pretending to talk until y/n made his way over to them. he was currently traveling through the theater to talk with different people. hao assumed he was thanking people for coming and receiving congratulatory words in return - the usual etiquette that hao found quite tiresome if he was honest.
"hey guys," hao felt his heart quicken as he recognized y/n's voice, "thanks for coming. i didn't expect to see you, but i'm happy you're here."
taerae could tell that was directed more at zhang hao, but he didn't mind a bit. he and y/n were more like acquaintances than friends anyways.
"of course! you guys did really great. the review in the paper will be nothing but good things, i promise," taerae assured.
"thank you, i'm really glad you liked it!"
taerae smiled before turning to hao, "i'm gonna go wait in the car, okay?"
hao nodded in response. he could feel a chill run down his spine as he now faced y/n alone. he felt like melting on the spot. seeing y/n up close in his suit and tie made him feel weak.
"i've never seen you so dressed up. you look really amazing," y/n complimented, as if reading hao's mind.
"thank you," hao blushed, "you do too. i like your suit a lot."
y/n smiled and looked down at the clean black fabric.
"yeah? i always feel kinda weird when i dress up this nicely, but i'm glad someone else enjoys it."
hao nodded. oh, how he really did enjoy it.
"ah- these are for you," hao spoke up as he reached to the seat behind him where he'd left the flowers. y/n's jaw fell open just a bit, blushing a little himself now.
"really? you got me flowers?"
hao smiled and nodded. "you deserve them. i knew you'd be great tonight."
y/n couldn't help but chuckle at how cute the other was. he took the bouquet happily, looking at the flowers before turning his attention back to zhang hao.
"hey, are you doing anything else tonight?" y/n asked. hao's heart picked up once again. he shook his head while trying to hide his growing smile.
"then can i take you to dinner?"
hao almost couldn't believe it.
"really? you mean now?"
y/n nodded confidently, "we're already dressed up, i'm hungry, and i have the prettiest boy in the room to come with me. it's perfect."
hao looked down at his shoes, his smile too much for himself now.
"sure, i'd love to. let me just tell taerae?"
y/n nodded again, "of course. let's go." he offered his hand out, which hao took a bit shyly before he was led out of the theater.
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carmenized-onions · 4 months
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The Other Shoe | Consultation
logline; old wounds tend not to heal, if you don't let them. but, there is hot chocolate, and love. so perhaps that's enough.
[!!!] series history, this is the seventh; First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth, Sixth
Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin’ added to. Finally got Hozier on here. Don't know how that took me so long.
portion; 3.1k
possible allergies; two absolutely garbage mental states of people who are NOT over Mikey or the way they've been treated. Bunch of self-loathin, the whole lot.
pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader (no pronouns!)
Took me a minute, new jobs goin' well though!! This one took a lot of stewing, lmao. Lot of staring and thinking. We'll talk after, but SO many alterations were made lmao.
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It has been three weeks since you met Carmen in a freezer.
Six days since you were at his apartment. Ish.
Roughly forty-three weeks since the worst day of your life. Doesn’t feel like it.
In five days, you’ll have the second— Well, maybe third or fourth, worst day of your life.
But today is Monday, and you don’t know what’s coming yet.
It’s just after one in the morning, and you wake up to a phone call. Carmy. Yes, do not disturb was on. Yes, you’d set him on priority access— Which most people would find very cute and intimate, and it is— But he’s not the only one. It’s not a limited feature for people you want to kiss. There’s Syd, Richie, …Mikey…
Cause when is the right time to delete a dead friend’s contact info? It’s not right now. You know it’s not right now. And it probably won’t be tomorrow, either.
Phone call. You’re getting a phone call.
“Carm?”
“…”
You stir a little, bit, when there’s no reply, brain dehazing. “Carmy? Everything okay?”
You hear the beep of the phone call being ended. No way he butt-dialed you, right? You’re awake. You’re so awake. This feels all too familiar, and that's not a good thing. You immediately open your phone to text him, by the time you get to his contact, he’s already texted you. Actively texting you, in a rapid, manic succession.
‘fuck’
‘sorry’
‘you were supposed to be asleep’
Hm.
‘talking to a person hard right now?’
‘yes’
‘you’re so smart.’
‘easier to talk to robot you.’
‘wowwww’
It’s hard to write funny, right now. It’s hard to act like yourself, right now. You’re not sure how you’re doing it.
‘not what I meant’
‘I know. You’re you.’
‘you wanna send a voice message maybe?’
‘it’s fine. I’ll text.’
You give him time, you expect a paragraph since he’s taking so long, but instead you get,
‘can’t.’
‘carmen.’
‘I like you so much.’ Oh be still your stupid heart.
‘feeling is mutual.’
‘I can’t make my problems the only reason I talk to you’
Is that true? Fuck, that's kind of true, isn't it? But there's the puzzles! And there's been phone calls!
‘You talk to me for other reasons’
‘yeah. But it’s mostly problems’
‘with me.’
‘eh. Not really. Walk-in was you, toilet was Mikey, Nat had a baby, I’d consider the oven a shared problem of you and Syd’
‘oven was my fault’
He types for even longer this time. It’s hard not to interrupt him. When you start to type, he sends.
‘can I come over?’
‘I know it’s late’
‘I’ll come pick you up.’
‘no’
‘I’ll walk. I’ll be there in 20.’
‘it’s not a problem to pick you up.’ It's a problem if he doesn't let you pick him up.
‘I know.’
‘promise I just wanna walk. Get air.’
God, why are your fucking hands shaking he just wants to walk. He just wants to walk. Why can’t you bring yourself to believe people when they say that anymore?
Everything’s normal. It’s been a good six days for Carm, you know that it’s been a good six days. Everything's normal. You’ve kept a puzzle streak every morning, you’ve called him some nights, he’s called you some nights. He’s had a good week. He told you so. Everything's normal. You’ve vaguely flirted in that extremely sexual yet completely nonsensical way new situationships do, via text. People don’t do that when they’re on the brink of death, right? Everything's normal. Stop playing with your pendant. Relax. Put a shirt on. Stop being so fucking paranoid. Stop typing—!
‘can you do me a favour’
‘anything’
‘can you turn your location on for me’
‘not to be invasive. You can turn it off when you get here, I—’
Before you can even finish typing your explanation, let alone send it, he sends his location, trackable. He’s already walking.
‘be there in 18.’
You watch, with bated breath, his little contact photo bubble marching across Chicago to you. You make yourself mildly presentable and make hot chocolate on the stove—Gotta use milk, for Carmen— For when he comes to you, out of the cold. Because he’s going to come to you. He’s gonna be here. He’s gonna be here. You know that because you’ve been keeping your phone screen open and only look away to ensure you don’t pour milk on your stovetop and to blink.
He's here in eighteen minutes. You think if you had a stop watch going on, it’d be down to the millisecond. You open the door for him, before he can even knock. You watched his bubble walk up to your door. No point in waiting. You need to see him.
He’s breathing heavy. Held tight in his fist is a bundle of flowers— Importantly, not a bouquet, a bundle of flowers—Like, roots still on a few, visibly yanked out of the ground. Though seemingly from different gardens, since there's quite a variety. He looks at you, then down at the flowers, then back to you.
“I— I stole these.”
“Had a feeling.” You wave your hand for him to come inside, he does. “Are you okay?”
His steps falter, he seems downtrodden. You take the flowers, and then take his hand. He hesitates to speak, but he’s really trying to say fucking something. You squeeze his hand, it seems to help.
“I—” He swallows the spit caught in his throat. “I didn’t know— I— No. No, I did know— I knew the one place I had to come was, here. Had to go somewhere.”
You nod, you look over him. Silently doing a wellness check. You’re panicked. You’re so panicked. But he can’t know that. This is about him. You’re the one that takes care of people. He’s clean. He smells like Old Spice and you. He’s a little cold from the walk, he didn’t wear a jacket, but he’s warming up fast. He looks tired but not exhausted, which, for Carmy, is kind of as good as you’re going to get. He didn’t have the energy for a phone call, but he had the energy to come over and talk to your face; his social battery is wonky, but that’ll fix with time here. Is he hungry? That’s hard to tell on looks alone.
“You wanna talk about it, Bear?”
He nods, head down. Can’t look at you. You gently pull at his hand for him to follow you into the kitchen. “Made hot chocolate. You a marshmallow or whipped cream guy?”
His eyes are glassy, and his mood itself doesn’t change, but he does swiftly lift his head up to look at you with an incredulous, curious half smile. “You don’t do both?”
“I find it gets a lil’ busy. But I like the tiny marshmallows that come with the mix with whipped cream—”
“You gotta do actual cocoa.”
You roll your eyes. “I don’t like my hot chocolate to actually be rich. I want sweet.”
“You’re breaking my heart.”
“Good thing I’m a repairman, then.” You deadpan. He does actually seem to glow a little bit, at that. You repeat, hand full of flowers resting on your hip. “So both?”
“Both.”
He calms you down so easily, even when really, he was the oncoming stress— Or rather, your perceptions. He clears static for you, without effort. You nod, letting go of his hand— Slowly, withdrawing, like a silent promise that you will be back. You grab a paper towel and wrap the flowers in them, setting them down on the counter. You’ll plant them later. Honestly, kind of a better gift for you and your green thumb than a bouquet would be.
You turn to your oven to stir the pot of hot chocolate— Can’t have any fuckin’ clumps for Mr Michelin over here. Speaking of Michelin, he sidles up behind you and puts his head on your shoulder, hands hovering as if he’s going to hug your waist but simply cannot bring himself to.
He mumbles into your shoulder. “I lit my oven on fire.”
Ah. The oven was his fault. That's what he meant. When you pause and try to turn, that’s when he hugs you, holding you in place. “Please don’t look ‘t me.”
You take a deep breath, and continue to stir the pot. “Okay. I’m listening, not looking.”
“I did— I did it in my sleep. Not the first time. I think, I think they’re night terrors? But I don’t, don’t scream or nothin’— I don’t say shit actually. I don’t think.”
God, he’s insecure, even now, about how crazy you’ll think he is. Like telling your therapist everything that’s wrong with you except for the stuff that they might hospitalize you for. God, does he treat you like a fucking therapist? He’s awful. He’s awful for you. He’s awful for anyone. It doesn’t matter that you’re different— The common denominator is him. He’s a fucking piece of shit—
“I wake up screaming sometimes.” You reply, so softly. You feel his short nails dig into your sides just slightly for a second as he remembers where he is. He’s over your shoulder. No one’s over his. “Happens to the worst of us.”
You grab two mugs from the cupboard— Reaching with the arm he’s not leaning on. “Did you put it out or should I be calling my former C-F-D crew?”
“I put it out.” He notes your mugs. They’re mismatching. One is definitely handmade with messy floral patterns, the other a tourist trap Chicago mug.  They’re perfect. “I—I was cooking something, in my sleep— And then— Then the fire starts.”
You ladle the hot chocolate into the mugs— Usually you’d just pour it straight but you don’t want Carmen to watch you inevitably spill half of it on your counters. You nod, “Do you dream that you’re cooking?”
“K-Kinda? I’m not cooking, I’m the Head, the expediter— And, and my Exec is over my fucking shoulder and he’s— Just in my head.” He swallows, thinking of how to explain without explaining. “And then I wake up, and there’s a fire, and I watch it grow, and I think about what it would mean if I just let it, and how I’d want it to.”
“And then you put it out?”
“And then I put it out.”
“Do you wish you didn’t?”
“I don’t know. And it’s fucking with me. ‘Cause— ‘Cause things are really good right now.” You tense under him, and he knows it’s because you don’t believe him. “They are, they really really are. Sug bein’ away is… not easy, but, it’s, it’s okay—”
“Carm.” Your tone is so accusatory.
“It’s the same nightmare it used to be.” He doesn’t hesitate to correct as soon as you question it. He cannot lie to you. For one, you see right through him. For two, it’s you. You’d rather know he’s insane. For some reason. “It’s been hard. I— I know fuck all, about business, and, and we can’t afford to hire a fuckin’ replacement right now because we owe so much fucking money or the whole thing caves— But it’s— It’s been good.”
You grab a handful of mini marshmallows, splitting them between the two mugs. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He nods into your shoulder. “Everyone is… happy, right now. It’s not always fuckin’ breezy but— Everyone’s, everyone’s okay. And I have somethin’ I can actually be proud of, right now. And I have— I — You’re around. N’ that, that has been good. For everyone.”
You hum. Heart full, at that. You awkwardly shift to your fridge, waddling like a penguin instead of turning, as not to disturb Carmen, he chuckles against your shoulder. “You can tell me to fuck off, y’know.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want you to.” You hug his arm to you. This makes him squeeze just a little tighter. You pull out a half-empty can of Reddi-Wip, shaking it violently, as instructed. “Say when.”
You hover the can over the tourist mug, he shakes his head. “Other one.”
He wants the handmade one. Your fingerprints are grooved into the handle. You ignore how insane this makes you feel, and spray whipped cream into the handmade mug. You’re waiting for him to say when.
It’s getting to a concerningly tall pile, at this point. You feel him swallow. He finally says the quiet thought out loud.
“I think I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Even in my sleep, I know it’s coming.”
You nod, you stop spraying. You think on it for a beat. You opt to be honest. “I am, too.” You nod. “I am, too.”
“What’d’you think it’s gonna be?”
You feel your neck flare red and hot, guilty. Horrifically guilty. Lifesaver. You spray whipped cream into your own mug. You don’t really want both whipped cream and marshmallows, but it’s a good way to disguise how shaky your hands are. You take a deep breath.
“Think you’re gonna realize I’m not as good as you think I am.”
He kind of, tugs at you, pulling you closer to him, as if to rebuke thee. “You’re very good, Tony.”
You just hum in reply, once again, the pile of whip cream grows— It sputters, and basically nothing is coming out, but you can’t bring yourself to move, so it continues to struggle. He lets you do this, for a moment, before softly, questioningly speaking your name.
You just hum, again. Everything’s fine. Everything’s normal. This isn’t even about you, this is about him. “I’m good.”
“You are.” He declares, like it’s law. He grabs the empty can from you hand and puts it on the counter, then turns you around to face him. You keep your head down, there’s every chance you throw up and die if you— “Look at me.”
“I know—” He does not give you the chance to excuse yourself, he grabs your chin, softly, but still, forces you to look at him.
“You’re very good.” Too much eye contact. Too close. Too sincere. Too much— “Too good, too good for anyone.”
Too good for him. You, of course, don’t think that. But that’s exactly why you’re too good. “I’m not gonna change my mind ‘bout that.”
“…Hope so.”
Carmen can see it, now. The way your jaw clenches, how you’re looking past him, not at him. The way you mirror how he imagines he looked in the walk-in, to you. He decides to take a page out of your book, and hugs you close. “Know so.”
Your chin hooks over his shoulder. You stare down the hall of your apartment, brain somewhere else. He stares over your shoulder at the hot chocolates, whipped cream slowly melting and overflowing onto the counters.
“You wanna talk about it?” He asks, and you can’t help but smile at the ridiculousness of it.
“I—It’s not—This about you, not me—”
“It’s both. It can be both.” The shared burden.
You sigh, putting your arms around his shoulders. “…I’ll talk about it eventually, I promise. Just not… Ready—Right now.” You’re not ready to risk him no longer liking you. You need a little more time to be selfishly avoidant. “Eventually, though.”
He nods. He gets it. He does it.
“How do you think the other shoe’s gonna drop? If it does?”
This was the exact question he didn’t want, but you answered it, kind of, and that means he has to answer it, kind of. He relaxes his hold on you. “Think you’re gonna see me when I’m— When I’m not me— When I’m— I’m like, like my fuckin’ family.”
When he’s angry. When he yells. When he’s mean. When his crises don’t take the form of hibernation. When he’s frightening.
“Think once you realize, you’ll leave, and it’ll all leave with you.”
When he said that everyone’s happy at The Bear, he knows it’s because you’re back in the atmosphere. You bring a lightness that he never could, that he always envied in his brother. He honestly needs to break something at The Bear to get you to come in soon, because it’s been two weeks since you made everyone coffee, and your presence is only finally starting to wain in power. He really needs to start paying himself so you can get on bar.
“I don’t love being yelled at, certainly.”
You know what acting like his family means. Mikey used to do it. When things got bad. And while you got better and better at being understanding, still never managed to keep yourself from tearing up. “But it’s nothing that would make me leave. Nothing that’s not worth it.”
Jesus Christ. Jesus fucking Christ. His bad side, his anger, his violence, his teeth, the parts of his functionality that he hates, you consider worth dealing with, for the sake of the rest of him.
It reminds him, of a question that’s been on his mind for a while now. His chin digs into your shoulder, a little bit. He swallows.
“Do you really not think taking care of people is a lot of work?”
You frown, thinking about it. It is a lot of work. It’s exhausting work, rotten work, to take care of people.
“It is a lot of work.” You tilt your head, kiss his clothed shoulder. “But it’s just pure instinct, to do. “I care therefore I care, or somethin’.”
“What a poet.”
“Fuck off.”
You both laugh; then comfortable silence. He’s the first to break it. “You’re good.”
“We’re both good.” You pull back to look at him. Nothing has truly been resolved, and yet he looks more at peace. Thank, God. You’re doing a good job. You’re not failing again. “You wanna go drink these barely warm hot chocolates in my bed and pass out?”
“Please.”
Carmen never turns off his location, and he never will. He doesn't ask why you want it. He takes advantage of the whipped cream on your nose and the severe lack of napkins in your bedroom when he can. He replaces the Cubs jersey wearing bear in your arms, that night. He hopes he will forever, he's pretty sure he won't.
In five days, this Friday will be the worst Friday of your lives.
But neither of you know that yet. The painting is still not finished, he hasn’t yelled at anyone around you yet, Carmen still doesn’t know about the necklace you’ve tucked under your shirt every day for the past year.
The other shoe still hangs in the air; but not in your bed.
You pray it’s fall will not wake the bear.
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FUCK bro.
It was tough writing in a way that was coherently incoherent. Like, neither of these two want to talk about their problems, so they are vague, but I know what the fuck is going on-- And hopefully you kindddaaa get what's going on?? There's still a little mystery I'm holding on for myself, hehehe. I'm very curious if anyone has theories by now tbh. What's this hidden part of Tony's life!!! They're usually so open!!! So what's this shit!!!
I cut out like a WHOLE 300 words of them doin' a smooch because it just made no fuckin' sense. They're both in emotional hell, couldn't force it, even if I wanted it. But there was the cuddlin' and nose kissin' in bed. So I think that's a good caveat.
But the most insane part of this chapter for me, and you'll see later, THIS chapter and the next,,,,, 3 chapters? Were all gonna be ONE. I know. Nuts. I was essentially gonna format it like all snippets of this one week, because as we know, Fridays gonna be the worst friday! But I realized like a quarter way through writing this one, that it simply couldn't just be a snippet. It needed to breath as it's own full thing. As did the next 3 chaps. I think they'll be a lot more digestable this way and also it won't force me to hole away for a fuckin month writing it without giving you a single morsel of content.
Anyways, tell me what the fuck you THOUGHT!! I'm excited to hear thoughts, hopefully all good ones~~~
Next Part
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bioethicists · 3 months
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Come chat about Psych Abolition!
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For a while now, I've wanted to create more spaces to talk about psych abolition + specifically talk with people to understand what sort of information and resources would be meaningful for them. The forum has been a lovely place, though I think a lot of us (including me) are very busy and not always able to check up on it. I have a bit of extra time this summer now that I'm not doing coursework, so I'd like to take that time to work on writing + talking about psychiatric abolition!
So, if you want to just chat about psych abilition/psychiatric survivorship, yell at me, or collaborate on works which convey these themes to a wider audience, please drop in! A reminder to anyone who wants to attend that under no circumstances may anyone contact the authorities as a result of anything spoken about during the Zoom. Free discussion of self-injury + suicidality + substance use are expected without fear of being "crisis" intervened upon. That being said, the goal of these chats is not necessarily to be a support group but more to talk about psychiatric abolition, build community, + increase knowledge.
I will be doing 3 weekday evening sessions + two midday Sunday sessions, hoping to accommodate people with different work schedules + different time zones. They will be via Zoom, with a passcode (I'm not super hip on how to prevent ppl from fucking up Zoom meetings so uhhh if you are + there's something about the structure of this post that is compromising, please let me know!)
Each link goes to the respective meeting- the password for each one is "frogs". Anyone is welcome, so long as they are able to honor the space as one where anything can be spoken about.
First Meeting Recap Post
Second Meeting Recap Post
Third Meeting Recap Post
Fourth Meeting Recap Post
Monday July 29 @ 9pm EST | 1am UTC
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lilghostiequinni · 27 days
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Early Dismissals and Rides Home
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Main Masterlist Lando Masterlist
Pairing: School Teacher! female oc (Ms. Kaye) x Single Dad!Lando Norris
Warnings: Fluffy,
Summary: Four times that Lando's kids' teacher had to drive them home and the one time that it becomes more.
Requested: NO / yes
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Lando Norris was a former Formula One racing driver, now a team CEO, and still running his businesses, having made a couple more with help from his family.
He was formerly married, but she divorced him and died a few years later.
Lando put his kids in a non-private school in England, taking them out of school sometimes to go to a Grand Prix.
He was truly a wonderful father to his three kids, Lysander, Noralie, and Ciaran.
The teacher to his two oldest children was Ms. Kaiyah Collyn. She had children of her own, Cairo, Landon, Valentina, and Sienna.
Two sets of twins were born within a year; the two boys were friends with Lysander, and the two girls with Noralie.
So, whenever Lando or someone else they knew wasn't able to pick them up, they rode a bus, but there were a few times there was no notice.
The first time it happened was around mid-October; Lando was held up at McLaren headquarters and could not give an adequate time for when he would pick them up.
So, Ms. Kaye, his children's favorite teacher, offered to take them home to the grandmother, per Lando's request.
Kaiyah did just that; she brought them to Lando's parents.
Cisca was familiar with Kaiyah, having seen her when she went to get the Norris children or when she went to pick up Kaiyah's children for a playdate or sleepover with her grandchildren.
The next time was when Lando was again running a bit late but would be home for them to go home and be alone for about an hour.
Having her children already playing with the Norris children, Kaiyah again offered to drive them home, and Lando was ever thankful for her understanding.
The third time was just after winter break; Lando was so busy getting something ready for Ciaran's 5th birthday that he wasn't able to get to school on time.
When he called, Kaiyah asked if he wanted them brought home or if he would be able to come get them soon; he was able to get there in about 25 minutes.
So, when Lando arrived, he met Kaiyah for the first time.
"Hello, thank you again," Lando said as he got out of the car and walked around beside her as she was watching the children play.
"It's no problem; it isn't the first time I've watched your children; they are friends with mine."
"The twins are yours?"
"Yes, they are," Kaiyah looked to Lando after she said so.
Let's just say after that, Lando had a little crush on the teacher of his children because they stayed there talking while the children played, and he loved her kindness.
The fourth time was in the next school year, when Lando had to go on trip for Formula One, but wasn't able to get a nanny or anything. His parents were out of town, so he asked Kaiyah if she could take them for the weekend and bring them to school on Monday.
Kaiyah agreed and refused any money Lando tried to offer her.
The final time was at the end of that school year; Lando had asked her to bring his children home because he was stuck in a meeting in his home office.
When they got there, she went inside as she was told to do when she talked to Lando.
When Lando came down, he told her that he was developing feelings for her.
At first, Kaiyah was stunned and didn't know how to respond because she herself was unsure of her own feelings, not dwelling on the butterflies he gave her when she was near him.
It was a few minutes before Kaiyah responded with a nod, and quite "I feel the same."
Lando put his hands on either side of her neck, looking to her lips as a silent ask, which she nodded, and they both leaned in at the same time.
Pulling away when cheering could be heard from the opening between the foyer and the living room.
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Tags: @poppyflower-22 @samantha-chicago @barcelonaloverf1life @tallrock35 @ellen3101 @llando4norris @mcmuppet @issi-loves-dannyric @1800-love-me @barcelonaloverf1life @hellothere9597
If you want to be removed from a tag list, let me know so I don't keep tagging you. If you are striked through, I don't know if you want to be tagged, but just let me know if you want me to continue or stop
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trickphotography2 · 6 months
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The Perfect Match
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Every third week in March, fourth year medical students find out where they'll be going for their residency. A quick 2.2K word one-shot of Jake's girlfriend going through that process.
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The nervous energy in the auditorium was almost overwhelming as the clock ticked closer to 11:50AM. All across the US, fourth-year medical students gathered in ceremonies like this, ready to find out where they would be headed in just a few months to begin their residency. It had been a long week - on Monday, everyone received an email letting them know if a residency program had selected them. For those who got one, it was a waiting game to see where they would be moving. Those who hadn't been selected went through the nerve-wracking SOAP process, hoping to secure a job after graduation. With the number of medical graduates increasing faster than residency positions, it wasn't always a guarantee. 
You, however, already knew where you were going and what specialty you would be practicing. For months last year, you'd flown across the country, interviewing with residency programs at different installations and civilian hospitals—backups in case you didn’t match with a base hospital and had to compete for a civilian spot. And a perk of matching through the military was getting notified of your posting in mid-December, while civilians had to wait until the third week of March. 
On December 15th, you received that wonderful email alerting you that you had matched into Emergency Medicine at Naval Medical Center San Diego. Not only was Emergency Medicine a competitive specialty, but the location meant that you would finally be able to be close to your long-distance boyfriend, Jake, after seven long years.
A chance encounter over Spring Break freshman year led to late-night calls when he returned to Annapolis and you to College Park. For four years, you lived 35 minutes apart in Maryland, stealing as much time as possible together over the weekends. And after graduation, you had a long conversation about your future.
Jake had been clear from the beginning that he wanted to be a pilot, just as you had been firm about attending medical school. He supported you as you struggled through Organic and Biochemistry and tutored you in Physics. He would try not to laugh as you traced his skin, naming the muscles, bones, and systems as you reviewed for anatomy. Care packages showed up at your apartment when you spent as much time as you could getting clinical hours, volunteering in a research lab, and studying for the MCAT. Jake knew how important getting your CV ready was and tried not to complain too much when your weekends spent together were mainly catching up on chores or sleep.
Senior year, you were offered a spot at Florida State University College of Medicine. Jake had been notified in his junior year that he had been accepted into the flight program.
After graduation, you and Jake packed up your things and drove to Florida together. He had a few weeks until he had to report to Pensacola, just a 3-hour drive down I-10 from where you would be in Tallahassee. The apartment you got was right across the street from the med school, a small one-bedroom, but you knew you wouldn’t spend much time there anyway. It would be a place to eat and sleep, but most of your time would be spent on campus or driving to Jake’s in Pensacola. He would only be there for a few months until transitioning to the next base, and you wanted to spend as much time together as possible. 
Unlike other medical schools, FSU required students to start in the summer to complete the Anatomy course. Over the short term, students would complete a full-body dissection. The smell of formaldehyde became commonplace, and the TAs warned you to wear shoes and scrubs you wouldn’t hate to throw away in August. 
They were right. 
It was a rough transition to med school, but it was manageable. And you loved it. Your professors ensured you treated the cadavers with the utmost respect while gently encouraging competition by announcing a dissection team winning each week. The faculty brought you to a rural community to learn about rural medicine, sharing food and stories with those less fortunate. The physician assistant students joined on the trip, and you learned about an inter-professional day that you’d be expected to participate in later - role-playing a case with MD, PA, pharmacy, and social work students. 
And while you were working toward your dream, Jake was getting closer to his. Nights were spent catching up, and he was so excited to tell you about his flight training. He promised to get his civilian pilot license as soon as possible and rent a plane to take you up in the air. On the rare weekend you didn’t need to spend in the anatomy lab cramming for an exam, you drove to his place late Friday night and headed back to Tally on Sunday morning. 
In August, Jake requested time off to come and see you celebrate finishing your first semester. Seated in the audience, he watched as your faculty member helped you don your first white coat, and you recited the Hippocratic oath. The one-week vacation before Fall term started wasn’t long enough, but you enjoyed waking up in Jake’s bed and going to the beach.  
Joining the military had never been in your future, but the longer you spent around Jake and his friends, the more commissioning in the Navy seemed attractive. A medical officer recruiter spoke at the college, and you signed your paperwork. After spending a few weeks working in a clinic during the summer after the first year, you headed to Rhode Island to complete Officer Training. Jake called you as soon as you graduated, welcoming you into the service with only some light teasing about outranking you. As an Ensign, you would be forced to salute your Lieutenant boyfriend when you saw him. 
It was harder to see each other when he graduated from flight school and was stationed in California, but you managed to get by with phone calls and vacations. Toward the end of your second year, Jake was sent on deployment as you studied for the Step 1 exam - testing your foundational knowledge and one of the most intimidating exams you faced. The school gave you dedicated study time, and you took advantage of his offer to study at his apartment in Lemoore. His buddy, Coyote, met you at the airport and drove you to Jake’s apartment. A bouquet of flowers was sitting on the counter, and you stared at them as you mentally ran through Anki decks to quiz yourself.  
Jake came home the last week you were there. Fully recovered from the 8-hour exam, you greeted him with all the other family members on the flight line. It was the first time you saw him in his jet, and you made sure he knew how much you appreciated the sight. But too soon, you had to return to Florida and pack up your apartment in Tally to move to Pensacola for your last two years of medical school. On your last night in Lemoore, Jake took you out dancing and promised he would request leave to visit soon. 
Between your rotations and his shitty schedule as a junior officer, it was hard to see one another. At the end of your third year, you hit a rocky spot and talked about breaking up. But cooler heads prevailed, and you promised to do your best to match into a residency near him. He agreed to try and get orders to be closer to you once you graduated. 
Jake had been your first call on December 15th. Sobbing, you told him you’d join him in San Diego, where he’d been stationed for the last four months. 
The last-minute plane tickets had been expensive, but it had been so worth it to spend Christmas with him, making plans to move your stuff across the country, and finally be together. He’d held your hand as you pulled your name from the NBME Match Database, officially alerting the civilian hospitals you’d interviewed at that you were no longer hoping to match with them. 
So, while your friends waited anxiously to open their envelopes, you felt a sense of calm. In nine short weeks, you would be back in this auditorium wearing your dress whites under your cap and gown. After getting your diploma, your new orders would be published, and you would be promoted to Lieutenant. And after? Jake was scheduled to return from a deployment in a month and requested leave to help you pack up your apartment and start the cross-country road trip. 
Eight years of hard work would culminate in moving in with the man you loved. Who could support you in person as you went through the hell of residency and got used to being a full-time Naval officer. 
The Dean crossed the stage and welcomed everyone. As the clock struck noon, she encouraged everyone to open their envelopes.
Tearing it open, you stared at the words confirming your future - Emergency Medicine, Naval Medical Center San Diego. 
Jake.
Cheers broke out, and you turned to hug your friends as they screamed with happiness or smiled to hide disappointment on not getting their top choice. 
The ceremony began with each regional campus called up to allow the students to announce their match.
You hadn’t planned on going on stage. The trip back to Tally had only been to see your favorite staff members and to support your friends as they found out where they would be moving. They had brought their family members, partners, and kids to share in the moment. You had come alone, preferring your family to go to graduation instead. But your friends dragged you into the line and handed your name card to the smiling staff. 
“Hi,” you said, leaning into the microphone after the Regional Campus Dean introduced you. “I just wanted to say thank you to all of my friends and family. Without you, I wouldn’t have made it through all of this. I matched in Emergency Medicine and will be moving across country to be with my boyfriend, who kept me sane throughout all of this. And I’ll be at Naval Medical Center San Diego
The crowd cheered louder than they had for any of your classmates. Blushing, you lifted your hand and waved, stepping back and quickly walking toward the Campus Dean to shake his hand. But as you neared, he smiled and took a step back.
You froze.
Jake grinned. 
Wearing his dress whites, he quickly strode toward you, pulling you into his arms. “What are you doing here?” you demanded, blinking away tears. 
“Wasn’t gonna miss your Match Day, darlin’,” he replied.
“You’re supposed to be on the carrier!” 
“Might have lied about that.” There wasn’t a trace of regret on his face. “You worked so hard for this, and I wanted to surprise you. My beautiful, smart, adrenaline junky doctor girlfriend.”
“Not yet - won’t be a doctor for another few weeks.” 
“You’ve got it in the bag. But I figured since you’re already trading in a couple of ranks - med student and Ensign…” Taking your left hand, he reached into his pocket and lowered himself to one knee. 
Vaguely, you heard the crowd get louder, but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from Jake as he held out a diamond ring. 
“I thought maybe we could change girlfriend to wife. Will you marry me?” 
Unable to speak, you nodded quickly. Jake leapt to his feet and kissed you, smiling against your mouth. 
The next few minutes were a blur. You hugged the Deans while Jake shook their hands, and your parents met you off stage - Jake had called to let them in on his plan. His parents texted him after watching the proposal on the school’s livestream. After promising to meet up after the ceremony, Jake joined you in the student section while your parents returned to their seats. Your friends hugged you, whispering excitedly as you showed them your engagement ring. 
And later, after a celebratory dinner with your family and drinks at the beer garden with your classmates, you tumbled into bed with Jake. You could taste the beer on his tongue as he licked into your mouth, and you grinned when your ring caught the light and shimmered.
“Lieutenant and Lieutenant Seresin,” Jake chuckled, catching your hand and kissing your ring. “Sounds kinda nice.” 
“Mmmm,” you hummed. “My diploma will be issued in two months, Seresin. Then I’m applying for my medical license and getting all my onboarding paperwork done for NMCSD. I might have to go by my last name for a bit… but I kinda like how it sounds with Lieutenant…”
 “It does sound nice,” he agreed. “You sayin’ I’ve got 2 months to get it official, or are you telling me you wanna keep your last name?” 
“Dunno,” you shrugged. “I’ve spent the last four years thinking I’d practice under my own name.”
“How do you feel about hyphenating?” 
Your eyebrows shot up, “You’d be okay with that?” 
“Darlin', you did the hard work, and it’s your name. As long as I can call you Doctor Seresin at home, I don’t care.”
In the middle of May, you stood at attention on stage in your whites, having quickly changed out of your cap and gown. The medical recruiter, a local chief petty officer, had been called onto the stage to publish your orders. Forcing yourself not to smile, you pressed your lips together as he read out your name — your new, hyphenated last name and all. 
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Notes: I used to work in a medical school, and went through three years of working on Match Day. It was one of my favorite events because of the level of excitement. (And yes, we did have a proposal one year.) But it can also be a really hard day - as state above, the number of residency spots is lower than the number of people who graduate. Every year, people go through the SOAP process and don't match. Which means they have to find something to do for a year, and then start the process over again.
Definitely didn't plan on writing this - I think in about an hour? - but I watched a class I worked with Match today and it kicked up a lot of feelings. I had the pleasure of watching young students grow into doctors, and play some small part in that.
As always, thank you to @mamachasesmayhem for encouraging me to write this, and for giving feedback.
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