#thankfully next week I'm off work on Thursday

[iggy-hands]

Me too fam. I should've waited to watch 7 bc I was stressed earlier in the day. Not that I don't trust Jenks to give us a good ending it just makes me worry. I'm too emotionally attached 🫠

No this is literally it, it makes me anxious!!!

Which is so stupid because it's a romcom series full of weird little guys, but!! Idk!!!

I don't want to watch it if I'm already stressed/tired I feel like I'm not going to watch it "correctly" if I do that, even though that's not a real thing

[savingcrxws]

EYES ON FIRE | maybe someday

[ prev chap ] [ next chap ]

synopsis. you and carmen just keep bumping into each other.

word count. 4.3k (gah damn)

warnings. language, hardly proofread again i'm sorry its an addiction

authors note. thank u guys so much for the support in these previous chapters! it’s really amazing to me that u guys enjoyed it so much! i would recommend listening to maybe someday by the cure for this chapter!

“Yeah, Sugar. The appointment is booked for Thursday, the reps will probably be coming in at like…three o’clock,” you mutter, flipping through the manila folder absolutely stuffed with documents and sticky notes. 

You pursue your lips at all you had to get done within this week alone–sign installation permit, permit to replace the hot water heater, permit to fix the ventilation systems, reapply for occupancy capacity signs because of the restaurants lack of other permits, and holy shit…

You completely forgot to schedule the follow-up appointment with the BACP consultant. 

You groan, slamming the thick folder into your forehead, the papers thwacking against your skull. Natalie sounds startled on the other end of the phone, no doubt hearing the sound on her end of the call. She questions if you’re okay, and you only respond with a gentle hum before tossing the folder back down on the office table. 

“Hey, Suge, do you think I can call you back later? I need to schedule a follow-up consultation with Raquel before another rep hops on my ass about the boiler replacement.” 

“Of course, hun, call me back whenever you can,” Sugar starts and you can hear some papers flicking in her side of the call as well.

You had managed to convince her to work from home more often, worried that all the stress from the demolition inside would affect her pregnancy and her overall wellbeing. After some back and forth, she had begrudgingly agreed to spend two days working on the project from the comfort of her own couch. 

And even though she complains still, you know she appreciates she has a little bit more time off of her feet. 

“Don’t work yourself too hard, okay, Bug?” 

You nod, even though you know she can’t see you. “Same for you, Bear.” Sugar hums once again before you both give your goodbyes and end the call. 

You expel all of the air out of your chest in a large puff as you slide down the office chair.

After signing onto Team Bear, your new home-away-from-home had been this tiny office in the back of the restaurant. For the most part, no one came in and disrupted your work, which allowed you to have your head shoved into piles of paperwork, be stuck on phone calls, and be forced to reread legal jargon for hours on end with little interruption. 

Well, as little interruption as there could be with the restaurant quite literally falling apart around you. 

Thankfully, everyone was very respectful of your work in helping the developing business. You were practically putting every ounce of knowledge that you learned from both college and the real-world experience (including connections within the industry) to help push the restaurant closer to the deadline. All the while still dealing with your other commitments to other businesses that you had prior to signing on to this project.

Staying at The Bear for eight hours a day had its benefits, though.

For example, there was always something entertaining going on in the background. Like last Tuesday, when Fak had decided to send a sledgehammer directly into the only remaining wall of the office–sending bits and pieces of drywall onto your clothes.

Another benefit of being stuck in that office chair is that you had an excuse to ignore everyone around you. And by everyone, you really mean Carmen.

After the awkward office run-in last week, the two of you hardly spoke to each other. Sure, there was the ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes’ that you threw to each other and the words you exchanged when you caught him up on the status of licensing, but you two had yet to have an actual conversation.

It was clear that the both of you were still walking on eggshells around each other—and everyone could see it. But you had an inkling feeling that Carmen had been wanting to say something, judging by the short glances you sometimes catch him throwing in your direction.

Kinda similar to the one that he’s giving you right now.

You feel the heat of his stare on your face before you see it. He’d been staring at you for a couple moments now, long enough for you to no longer consider it an inquisitive glance.

You peek up from the folder and make solid eye contact with Carmen through the hole in the wall. The man flushes almost immediately, the red color sinking past his collar. You purse your lips and give a small nod of acknowledgment and he stutters in his spot.

And then he’s turning away.

Like he wasn’t the one just staring at you a moment ago.

You roll your eyes and turn back to your original position in the seat. Picking the folder up again, you flick to the papers listing the requirements for the next fire suppression test.

“Men,” you mutter, before picking up your phone and making a phone call.

Three days later, the office is completely demolished and your work revolving around The Bear has been moved to a family-owned coffee shop two blocks over.

In the short span of time, all of the walls in the store had been busted down and the restaurant had practically turned into a hazardous wasteland. And since construction was too far out of your pay grade, you decided to leave the heavy lifting up to everyone else.

“Alright, permit done!” You throw your hands up in the air, your theatrics catching the attention of a couple next to you. You could hardly care for the stares, though, you had been working on getting that permit for the past four days straight. Slamming your laptop shut, you pack up your bags and head off to the cash register to buy another coffee before you go.

While you wait for your drink, you decide to scroll aimlessly through your phone to kill some time.

“Oh shit,” you hear a voice utter behind you, and you barely have time to process the word before something ice cold is running down your back. “Fuck, I’m fucking sorry, I didn’t even see you—“

You gasp on reflex, taking a step forward and shivering. The person who spilled their drink on you is stuttering out apologies. The liquid seeps into the jacket you were wearing and you pull it off immediately.

“Yo, what the fuck, dude,” you curse, watching the large stain of coffee spread even farther across your jacket. “Watch where the hell you’re walking—”

In the middle of trying to give the perpetrator a piece of your mind, you failed to recognize the familiar sound of the voice that was spewing apology out of apology. But in a second, your eyes met a recognizable set of blue and you halted your words.

In front of you stands Carmen Berzatto. In his signature colored sweater and a half-spilled cup of coffee in his hand.

And he looks petrified.

It seems he didn’t realize just who was the unlucky victim to his americano attack either until you turned around. His mouth agape, he utters out a jumbled apology, glancing back at you, your stained jacket, and the cup in his hand like his brain was still trying to understand what just happened.

“Uh-uh, fuck, sorry, I swear this wasn’t on purpose,” he rambles, placing his cup on the counter behind you and grabbing some napkins right after. He steps back towards you and shoves his hand of napkins to you. “Here, shit, I’m so sorry.”

You sigh, taking the napkins from him, noting the slight tremor that persisted in his hands as you did so. Taking in a slow breath, you close your eyes and count to ten before responding. “It’s okay, Carmen. Don’t worry about it.”

And even though you tried to maintain your peace, you can hear the annoyance seeping out of your words. Carmen glances around the counter before looking back at you and your soaked jacket. You know he probably wants to apologize some more, but honestly, one more apology might land him with a punch to the gut. 

Just as he opens his mouth, you raise your free hand, silencing him immediately. You shake your head in dismissal before taking the napkins offered to you and blotting the coffee out of the fabric of your jacket. Carmen simply stood in his place, watching you, seeing if he could do anything to redeem himself in this situation. 

However, after they called your name for your drink order, you dumped the used napkins in the trash, took your drink and hightailed it out of the café without one more word to the man. 

After the coffee shop incident, you swear that you started to see Carmen everywhere. 

You needed a quiet place to plan outside of your house so you went to one of the local libraries. Guess who’s walking outside the building?

You need a late night snack and decide to hit up the corner store. Guess who’s in the refrigerated section?

Hell, you decide to stay late at The Bear for some last minute checkups? Guess who forgot to grab a few things before leaving that night?

You swear that before you hopped on The Bear train, you never even saw a glimpse of the man. Sure, you lived relatively near the restaurant, but Chicago is fucking huge, there’s no way you would run into one of the few people that you’re trying to avoid. 

Absolutely not, apparently. 

Finally finishing up the weekly budget report and estimate for the following weeks till open, you decide to take a step away from work for a second and give your brain some time to breath. 

“Hey, Syd, if anyone needs me, I’m outside taking a smoke break, ‘kay,” you yell across the restaurant, receiving a thumbs up from her from the other side of the room. “Be back in 15!”

Reaching into your bag, you pull out a pack of cigs and a lighter before heading to the back entrance of the restaurant. You place the cigarette between your lips and head to the backdoor. Stepping out and around the alley to the designated smoke corner, you fiddle with the lighter switch, hearing the light sizzle but seeing no flames emerge. 

You groan, flicking the lighter again and again and still no lig–

“Umm, uh, you need a light?”

You scream, your heart almost skipping a beat and falling out on the concrete below you. In your alarm, both your cigarette and the lighter drop on to the ground. "Shit," you mutter and throw a glance over at whoever had scared the living shit out of you and, surprise suprise . . .

There was Carmen, standing in the alley a few feet away from the door. One leg was kicked up to rest his foot against the wall behind him and a cigarette hung loosely between his fingers. His eyes trailed across you for a second, then he glanced at the cigarette on the ground before taking another draw from his own and staring out the wall in front of him.

If you had half of the energy, you would tell him off for scaring the shit out of you and book it out of the enclosed space.

Lucky for Carmen, however, you really needed that cigarette.

Reaching back into your bag once more, you pull out another cig and walk slowly over to the man. Your steps gain his attention once again and when your eyes met you gestured to the lighter hanging out of his cooking apron.

He grabs the lighter and hands it to you. As you reach out to grab it, your fingers brush against his knuckles. Some quick thought in the back of your head wishes that that physical interaction lasted a little longer, but you're quick to shoo that away into the deep recesses of your mind.

Lighting your cigarette, you hand the lighter back to him before taking a drag. Blowing the smoke out, you slid down the wall until you could lean back into a squat against it.

The two of you just stand there, in complete silence aside from the occasional cough from an improper pull. This quiet isn't nearly as awkward as the first run-in the two of you had. Maybe it's because of the nicotine or maybe it's because continuously running into Carmen over these past days had subconsciously made you a little more comfortable with his presence.

. . .

Nah, it definitely had to be the nicotine.

You glance up at Carmen, who continues to smoke even though his stick had turned into a bud a while ago. You make note of the new tattoos that run down his arms and hands, eyes stopping at the rose flower tattoo on his left hand.

You remember when he got that one done with you at the parlor for his eighteenth birthday.

Subconsciously, you rub at the matching rose on your thigh before sighing and focusing back on your cigarette. Young, dumb decisions, you think.

Above you, Carmen watches your focus retreat back and purses his lips. In all honesty, Carmen usually never finishes a whole cigarette, but he really needed an excuse to stay out here longer with you.

These past couple of days had been tormenting him just as much as it had been you, albeit for different reasons. Everytime Carmen ran into you, whether it be in that cafe or that random grocery store that one early morning, he was plagued with memories of everything that he had fucked up.

Not just the relationship that he had fucked, but the happiness that he had stolen from the both of you.

And he had so desperately been trying to apologize, but every time you saw his face, you would get that look on your own. That dread, the anxiousness, that annoyance. That anger.

Whenever he saw that expression on your face, he would get too choked up to say anything of significance. A simple 'hey" would be all that would leave his mouth. Either that or he would stutter like he was a fucking kid again and embarrass himself in front of you like he seems to be doing constantly lately.

Carmen sighs, taking a final hit from his cigarette before stomping it out on the ground. By all previous experience, Carmen would book it out of the area by now, but something in his gut was telling him to stay this time.

Glancing down at you once more, he sees that you have taken to scrolling through your phone to kill the time. He bites the corner of his lip and decides to sit against the wall like you.

Instinctively, you toss him a questioning glance but when he didn't make any move to speak or gesture towards you, you shook your head and went back to whatever video had popped up on your feed.

Fuck it, he thought.

"I'm sorry."

You halt in the middle of your smoke, nearly coughing on the fumes but managing to swallow it. You look over at Carmen inquisitively, wondering where the hell that apology came from. The dirty blonde was wringing his hands, mouth opening and shutting as if he was trying to get the words out.

"Sorry for the, uh," he mutters, casting a quick glance in your direction to assure himself that you were listening. "Sorry for the, for uh-You know I didn't-I don't know how-"

"Yo, Carmen," you interrupt the world vomit that he was spewing, tossing your cigarette down before snuffing out the light with your shoe. You center your focus back on the man next to you, who seemed to only have you in his attention. "Just say what you want to say. No bullshit."

Your blunt words seem to ground Carmen long enough for him to gather his thoughts. He nods his head rapidly in that way he does when he's clearly overwhelmed before he clears his throat. He takes in a large inhale and clears his throat, ready to speak again.

"I want to apologize. For everything. For how much of an jackoff I was back then, and for how much I am right now," Carmen stars, eyes staring solidly into yours to show just how serious he is. "I didn't deserve you, and you did nothing to deserve the way that we ended."

You feel something burn the back of your throat at the mention of the end of your relationship. The total radio silence from him for the days prior, and just when you had managed to gather the courage to ask the question of just what the hell are we doing, Carmy, you were cast aside like nothing.

He was right, you didn’t deserve that.

Pushing back the feelings bubbling up in your chest, you nod your head to signal that you were listening.

"I-I, it's no excuse, but I was really going through some serious shit. And I really felt that if I cut everyone out of my life, I could actually get a second to breathe you know," Carmen pauses and you open your mouth to speak, but he continues. "I-I just know you deserved-you deserve better. But seeing you in this restaurant day-in and day-out, working away to help my sister, my crew--help me? I just felt even more like a piece of shit."

He turns fully towards you now and you can see his eyes turning red from the emotion he was clearly holding behind his words. "You didn't deserve what I did, and you definitely don't deserve to be cleaning up my messes now."

"You deserved the world, and I'm sorry I couldn't give it to you."

His last words send a sharp pang into your chest. Here you two sat, sitting next to each other, the distance between you two seemed to be filled with words unsaid. You stare into his eyes a little longer, at a loss for what to say completely.

On one hand, you wanted to reject his apology, tell him to fuck off and leave him alone in this alleyway. He would deserve it after everything.

But he has that familiar kicked puppy-dog look in his eyes and he's chewed his lip red, and he's actually sorry.

You sigh, leaning your head back to rest against the wall behind you. Staring up at the sky, you trace the shapes of the clouds above as you collect your thoughts.

"Yeah," you start, nodding your head to yourself. Carmen tenses up at the ambiguity behind both your words and your tone. He would have to have his own head shoved up his ass if he didn't realize that you had every right to refuse his plea for forgiveness. Frankly, that's exactly what he was expecting you to do.

"Yeah, okay. I can forgive you, Berzatto."

Carmen's heart sinks into his guts, mouth slightly agape in pure shock. "You-you can?"

You give a small smile, turning your head to face the man. "Yeah, Carmen, I accept your apology."

The dirty blonde opens his mouth again but you put a hand up in the space between you, effectively shutting him up for a second.

"But," you trail, "I'm gonna forward you that dry cleaning bill from that cafe, asshat. I've been trying to get that shit out for days now."

Carmen flushes a bright red at the mention of the coffee shop run-in you two had, a broken chuckle leaving his mouth at the obvious teasing tone in your voice. You were joking with him, for the first time in years, you two had managed to glimpse at the level of comfortability that you once shared.

Carmen chuckles again, running a hand through his curls. "Yeah, well, can I raincheck that until after the restaurant starts making money? I'm kinda flat fucking broke right now."

You giggle at the honesty behind his words. "Yeah, I ran those calculations by the way. Have fun being flat broke for at least three months after The Bear opens."

"Shit," Carmen mutters, a grin still on his face.

"Yeah, shit." You nod in his direction before pushing yourself off your crouched position on the ground. "Anyway, I'm gonna head inside to get back on that shit. Fak's fucking electric guy keeps flaking on us."

Carmen's eyes follow your form as you stand, holding eye contact with you when you glance back down at him. "Yeah, yeah, I should probably meet up with Syd for the chaos menu anyway."

He hurriedly stands up, wiping his hands on his work pants. After he finishes, he looks at you once again, noting the small smile on your face. For a second, he swears his heart skips a beat.

"For the record, Carmy," you play with the nickname on your tongue, having not said it in quite some time. Carmen flushes before nodding for you to continue. The small on your face falls for a second as you look at him. "You pull that shit with me again, I'm sicking the dogs on your ass. Seriously."

Carmen clears his throat, straightening up at the more serious tone of your voice. Although you were not nearly as angry looking at him as before, he knew that you were serious. There were no more apologies after this, no more fuckups.

You look at him expectantly, waiting for some form of acknowledgment.

He nods. "Yes, chef."

After the conversation outside The Bear, you and Carmen seemed to flow together much easier than before. Granted there was the occasional stray glance casted in your direction from the man, but overall, the two of you were on much more agreeable terms.

The rest of the crew seemed to notice the absence of uncertain tension between the two of you. You explained to Tina, Richie, and Sugar that you two had simply talked it out and were no longer on "spiteful ex" terms.

Richie, being the annoying man that he is, insisted that something else must've happened--to which you responded with a firm shoulder check and yet another middle finger.

Overall, the two of you seemed to only talk about business stuff, which made it easier for conversations to flow. Less personal, more concrete talks.

"Alright, Carmy, we got that certificate of occupancy, right?" You question, running down the legal checklist once again. When you heard no response, you asked again, only to be ignored again. Finally looking up from your screen, you glance up at the man, trying to figure out what could have possibly distracted him this time.

He's glancing, moreso glaring, down at his phone, watching it ring but making no moves to pick it up. He's spaced out almost, like he's lost in his thoughts.

You clear your throat and decide to try his name again. "Carmen!"

He shoots up a little and looks at you, muttering an apology out as he clicks his phone off and slides it into his back pocket. "What were you asking?"

"Umm, I was trying to see if you got that certificate of occupancy from Cicero mailed in," you raise an eyebrow at him. "You know, the one we need to get that other big, shiny certificate that shows that we can legal conduct business in the state of Illinois? That certificate?"

"Uhh, yeah, yeah. Mailed it in the other day, yeah."

You squint at his weird responses before shaking your head and diving back into your work. "Well, on another note, I've been speaking with a liason down at the office and he said we can have our second fire suppression test in two weeks instead of the project four."

Carmen walks up to the foldable chair you were sitting in, peering over your shoulder to look at your screen. He rests his hand against the back of your chair unconsciously and you can feel the heat of his body radiating off of him. You clear your throat and lean forward a little to get some distance between the two of you.

"Who's that going to?" The man points to an email that you are in the middle of drafting. Your eyes follow and land on the email you were writing to one of your school buddies. "Oh that? I'm just messaging one of my old classmates from college about an idea I had about our issues with that retail food license thing."

Carmen humms, peeking down at you as you explained the process you were thinking of going through. Though your eyes were stuck on the screen, clicking through different documents as you continued your explanation, Carmen's eyes were glued to your face.

To him, this all felt like some weird dream that he was having. His former high school sweetheart, sitting in his restaurant, talking all kinds of smart talk that he could barely understand, practically pressed against him. Although he didn't move over to your chair with the intent to press against you, he definitely noticed the proximity that you two shared.

Life had been a whirlwind these past weeks, but he felt that when he was near you that a lot of those anxieties he often has screaming in his head quieted down a little. He tried to chalk it up to the confidence that he had in your skills, but even though you are incredibly talented in your work, he knew that it was something more than that.

Something that he had to swallow down.

"Carmy, you motherfucker, are you even listening to me?" You call out, turning more in your chair and fixing him with an annoyed glare. Carmen swallows before nodding his head. "Ye-yeah, you have a plan to get that retail food license and alcohol seller's license at once right?"

You hum, giving him a once over again before turning in your seat. "Exactly. I think that my buddy Stephen can help us with that fire suppression test, he knows a thing or two--"

Carmen's eyes trace down your eyes, nose, and lips, noting the signature bite marks you left on your bottom one. He runs a tongue across his own before carding a hand through his hair to collect himself.

He was so fucked.

taglist: @grippleback-galaxy @chatitajens @rooster-bradshaws @hrrysweetcherry @whoreforbucky @notsochillnerd @jackierose902109 @how2besalty @rosewine-5 @honeybug-victoria @beansap @sincerelyrab @xxconfettiitsaparade @softsy @imafatassmess @bibliophilewednesday @chanluuvr

if you would like to be added to/removed from the taglist, just tell me below! thank you so much for reading!

*if ur @ is striked thru, tumblrs being a pain and not letting tag, imma keep trying tho!!

[bad268]

4+1 (Arthur Leclerc X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Formula 2/3

Requested: Yeah on Wattpad (look at me actually checking my wattpad messages woah)

Warnings: none.

Pronouns: You/Your/They/Them

W.C. 2113

Summary: The 4 times the reader surprised Arthur and the 1 time Arthur surprised the reader (plus a bonus scene).

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~(^Pinterest but I'm pretty sure Carla posted it too)

1) Austria 2021

The weekend was not off to a good start, and that’s what caused you to drop everything to go to Austria. Qualifying did not go the best for Arthur, but where he qualified left him with a great opportunity for points, starting in fourth place. 

You should have listened to your gut when it said something was going to happen this weekend. Instead, you were at work when Lorenzo called you, saying that Arthur had been gone off the track and had to retire early, and he was beating himself up over it.

You told your supervisor that you needed to head out and that you would do work remotely for the remainder of the weekend and probably the next week. They let you go without a hitch, so you were on the next flight out.

When you landed, Race 2 was just about to start. Lorenzo came and picked you up, taking you to the track and into the Prema garage. Arthur was starting down in 27th place. He was already in the car doing the formation lap, so after greeting most of the team, you asked if you could wish him luck over the radio. Thankfully enough, Rene was there and let you use his headset, but told you to make it quick.

“Bonjour mon amour (Hello my love),” You said as soon as you had the headset on. “Bonne chance, je t’aime (Good luck, I love you).”

“Wait, what are you doing here, mon beau (my beauty)? I thought you had work,” he responded immediately as he pulled around one of the last corners.

“Came to surprise you, but I need you to focus on the race now,” You replied with a small, shy smile as the team was listening in on the conversation. “I want you to do what you do best. You’ve got this.”

~

2) Silverstone 2022

At the beginning of the week, you were not sure if you would be able to make it to Silverstone in time for the feature race. Nothing seemed to line up, so you had told Arthur you would not be able to make it.

However, it seemed like the world was working for you when everything you had to do worked itself out by Thursday night. The weekend shifts that you could not find coverage for were canceled due to overstaffing, your assignments’ due dates were pushed back another weekend, and flights just went on sale. It just seemed like everything was working for you.

Immediately, you got on the first flight out Friday morning to London. Just before taking off, you texted Lorenzo, knowing that Arthur was most likely in his practice or qualifying session. You sent Lorenzo your flight info quickly before shutting off your phone for takeoff. 

Landing in London, it did not take you long to meet up with Lorenzo since you only packed a carry-on. You were able to get right off the plane and meet up with Lorenzo in arrivals. He took you back to the rental car and you stopped off to get food before arriving in the F1 paddock where Arthur was hanging out with Charles in between races

You saw him standing against the doorway of Charles’s room with his race suit tied around his waist. You walked up behind him, immediately wrapping your arms around his waist as you hid your face in his shoulders. Arthur stopped talking abruptly, confused at who was hugging him until he turned around and saw your familiar hair color against his chest.

“You said you had work, liar,” Arthur gasped as he lifted you and held you against his body.

“What happened to ‘hello’ or ‘how are you’ or ‘I missed you’?” You laughed once he finally set you down. You leaned in to place a small kiss on his lips before whispering, “I couldn’t miss this. I always try my best to support you.”

~

3) Australia 2023

You recently got a new job that would allow you to travel with Arthur, but he didn’t know about it yet. It was only finalized it on the Tuesday before the race. You were hired by Ferrari to be their social media coordinator for their academy drivers specifically, and it was a ticket to follow him around for the season.

You had flown with him to Australia for the race, but you told him in advance that you would need to be doing work during the weekend. You told Arthur that morning that you had an early morning meeting which was not a lie, but he did not know it was at the track. By the time Arthur arrived at the track for prerace, you had already gotten acquainted with everyone and were in a grove. 

You two didn’t actually run into each other for a while because you were following Fred around, listening to everything he wanted from you before actually getting on with your job. About halfway through the day, Arthur wanted to call you, but he was pulled into a meeting before he could actually dial your number. 

Upon arriving in the Ferrari garage, Arthur sat next to Ollie off to the side. They were told it was a basic meeting to go over a new social media plan. The last thing Arthur expected was to see you walk in beside Fred. 

His eyes grew wide as his jaw dropped, causing Ollie to chuckle beside him. “Don’t you have a significant other?” Ollie whispered to Arthur. The man in question just ignored his friend.

You looked around the room, almost immediately making eye contact with Arthur. A wide smile spread across your lips as you waved shyly at him.

“Everybody this is Y/n,” Fred introduced you, “They will be working with the academy drivers for their social media.”

Needless to say, when Arthur got his maiden F2 podium, the fans could definitely tell who was your favorite driver.

~

4) Monaco 2023

It was his home race in his own backyard. How could you not attend? Not only did you love the atmosphere of the Monaco Grand Prix, but it was his first time racing in his home country. Let alone, down the street from his house!

The F2 race had started a few minutes ago, and you were on your way back to the F2 paddock. You had run a little long with Dino’s post-race pictures, so you weren’t there for the start of Arthur’s race. You felt horrible.

You felt your heart sink when you heard the clashing of metal and the gasping of spectators. You glanced up at the big screen, and the one car you did not want to see was shown losing control and crashing into the barriers. It was the Dams number 12, Arthur.

You and Arthur would jokingly poke fun at the Monaco Curse, as Charles referred to it, but you never thought it would affect Arthur. It’s times like this when you really wish you never made those jokes in the first place. You unintentionally manifested this. 

By the time Arthur got back to the garage, you had an icepack at the ready. Despite him already having stopped by the medic tent, you knew that an icepack wouldn’t hurt. Especially with how hard the impact was, his head was bound to hurt.

You stood in the back of the garage, updating the FDA social media as you waited for him. When he did, he immediately put his helmet to the side, giving you a sad smile as he approached you. You looked back at him, offering an encouraging smile in return as you opened your arms for him. Arthur did not need to be told twice as he collapsed in your arms as soon as the space was available. You ran one hand up and down his back as you kissed his temple held that was already forming a bruise before holding the icepack to it gently.

“You don’t have to say anything right now,” you whispered as you twirled some of the hairs at the nape of his neck, knowing it calmed him down, “Just know, I am so incredibly proud of you. You did amazing while you were out there, and trust me, next year, you’ll come back stronger.”

~

+1) Las Vegas 2023

Being from Las Vegas meant that you wanted to attend the grand prix that was taking place in your backyard. Despite not actually racing in it, Arthur was planning on going anyway to support Charles, so you convinced them to bring you along as a tour guide of sorts. 

That being said, they all knew you were coming. There was nothing to surprise anyone with. At least, that’s what you thought. Arthur decided it was his turn to surprise you. He did not have all of the specifics settled, but he knew for certain that he wanted to propose to you.

It was Friday afternoon, and despite being on the track until 5 that morning, you still dragged Arthur out of the hotel by 2 to explore. You knew for certain you wanted to take him for slushies and to your favorite place to people-watch: Fashion Show Mall.

“It is way too early to get drunk,” Arthur laughed as he took a drink of the large slushie you two were sharing as you walked hand-in-hand through the streets of Sin City. “And this is comically big.”

“1, that's what she said. 2, it's not that high in alcohol percent. 3, we’re sharing it. And 4, it’s never too early to get drunk when you’re not the one driving,” you chuckled as you pulled him up the rainbow stairs to the top level. There was a grass patch that you loved to sit on while growing up, and it was the perfect spot to overlook the entire city. “This is basically where I grew up. I didn’t have many friends, but I would watch everyone from up here after school. It’s a nice view as long as you don’t look straight down.”

He followed you to the grass and jokingly fell beside you with his head in your lap when you sat down. He smiled up at you, causing you to chuckle, as he held your hand in his. 

“Your hand is cold,” He whispered.

“I’ve been holding the slushie since Elvis Presley Boulevard,” you joked, “I wonder why?”

“I can warm it up,” He joked back as he took your hand in both of his as he placed small kisses along your knuckles. You closed your eyes and threw your head back as you laughed at his antics until you felt a foreign object being slid onto your finger. You looked down at Arthur to see him smiling smugly up at you as you noticed the object was a ring, and Arthur had placed it on your left ring finger. “I’ve been trying to find the words, but I couldn’t wait any longer. Mon amour, you are my best friend and you have been by my side for as long as I can remember. You always surprise me, so I thought it was my turn. Will you marry me?”

“You’re crazy, Arthur,” you cried as you hid your face behind your right hand, your left hand still being held tightly by Arthur. His face dropped, thinking you were turning him down, but before he could try to remove the ring, you continued, “You’re crazy for thinking I would say anything but yes!”

~

Bonus scene: Average screen time

“Your screen time is more than five hours,” Olli Calwell read off as part of the challenge they were doing for the Prema Racing YouTube channel. It was a little game to see who uses social media more.

“I know, I check mine every day. I have a problem,” Paul laughed as he pulled out his phone immediately. Arthur looked off to the side where you were sitting as he chuckled, knowing his screen time was through the roof because of the Facetime calls you do every weekend. 

“Mine is 13 hours,” Arthur spoke up. Both Olli and Paul’s eyes grew wide in shock as they snapped over to him, questioning if that was really his average. “Yes, look!” Arthur spins his body around to show the other two his screen time as you also lean forward a bit to see, and he’s right. It was 13 hours on average, causing you to laugh to yourself.

“Are you okay?” Olli asked and that’s what broke your cover. The fans heard you laughing in the background of the video and immediately spammed the comments asking about you. That’s when you decided to go public with Arthur.

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[allastoredeer]

I read the new chapter of Holy Suffering as soon as it came out and I love the way u write Lucifer. For the past few days I have been reading Radio apple fanfic and I hate how lucifer is portrayed in most of them, shy , innocent with Alastor after the fight, and kinda out of character for the both of them, cause they suddenly like each other, and I don’t see it in them. They like to piss each other off, that’s the whole ship point.

Ur Lucifer is so sassy, Hits all the Good Characterization checks in my brain, he’s such a delight to read, same for Alastor. U had me going speechless most of the time Alastor spoke, cause I honestly didn’t know what he was gonna say next. Writing Alastor it’s probably hard, cause he is misterious and always hides his emotions but You totally nailed it. Right now he is probably angry at Lucifer cause he ratted him out lol

Al be like the audacity of this man after he forced him to do this.🙄

Anywhizzle I just wanted to ask, for the overload meeting, is Charlie gonna send Lucifer with Alastor? Maybe as a snake or something, to make sure is he okay. Cause she really sounded mortified that she didn’t notice that Alastor was suffering and man Al definitely didn’t like that, but it’s not like he can say no to Charlie so

A nd is there like a schedule for next updates? I am really invested in this story and I honestly can’t wait to read more of it.

Thank you ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ Hahah Lucifer's got bite to him, for sure. He doesn't come off as the shy type to me. Awkward as hell, certainly. In the throes of depression, absolutely. And he cares about Charlie's opinion of him to a fault. But when it comes to someone throwing their weight around--or, more accurately, getting involved with Charlie (cough Alastor helping Charlie with the hotel, couch Adam fighting/hurting Charlie cough) he isn't afraid of getting his hands dirty.

Alastor is hard to write ಥ_ಥ I love him so much, but sometimes, I want to cut open his head and properly study his brain because f;knslnjsbj out of all the characters, he's the hardest for me to pin down, in terms of both dialogue and actions. He has such a way of talking, and such a distinct voice (his radio filter) that it's simultaneously easy to imagine his voice, but hard to put it to dialogue. So, I really appreciate hearing that I nailed it (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`) Seriously, it's so appreciated to hear.

Nah, Alastor is going to be going to that one alone :3 It's going to be set in his POV, so we'll get some insight in his thoughts on the whole thing, and how he's handling his current affliction. I'm both excited to and nervous to get into it, because writing him in someone else's POV is hard, so writing him in his OWN POV is a little intimidating, but I'm mostly excited. I have a lot of thoughts for this series, and it's gonna be fun to explore them.

As for a schedule, I used to try to keep myself to one, and I've found that I have both a love/hate relationship with it. One the one hand, keeping a writing schedule is nice because it gives me a clear view of what I want to work on and an goal date to get it done, which is very nice for my ADHD brain.

BUT, on the other hand, when I start putting that pressure on myself to get it down, and I fail to actually reach that goal, it hits me pretty hard and it can take away my motivation and joy in writing the fic. It starts to feel more like a chore than a fun hobby I can do in my downtime.

Thankfully, I am DEEP in Hazbin Hotel hyperfixation, and the amazing feedback I've gotten from my fic's is certainly fueling my motivation. So thanks to everyone leaving kudos and comments! It's seriously so helpful and I cherish ever single one of them.

If I had to give an estimate for when the next installment of the series will drop, I'd say either at the end of this week, or the beginning/middle of next week. I have an unrelated AppleRadio one-shot I want to bust out before I work on the next installment, and that one I'm going to try and post by Thursday or Friday.

To quote out favorite Radio Demon,

~Stay Tuned

[7-wonders]

Apocalypse Now

Michael Langdon x Reader (Mad Love Act II, Chapter XII)

Summary: The end is here, despite your best efforts.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: I'm sorry, this is straight angst. Oops?

Mad Love Masterlist

Tuesdays are objectively the worst day of the week. Though Monday is rough, being the first day after the weekend, it can still be spun as a positive—a brand new week, just full of possibilities. Wednesdays, at least, have the “hump day” moniker to give one some hope that the week is half over. Thursdays are alright because that means it’s almost Friday, and Fridays are what it must be like to take every party drug at once.

Tuesdays, though? Tuesdays suck. It’s far enough into the week to feel none of the residual weekend happiness, but the upcoming weekend is still very much out of grasp. Tuesday is hopelessness personified, if one is feeling particularly dramatic.

That’s why it’s fitting that the world ends on a Tuesday.

You’re in class, because where else would you be? Luckily, this is your capstone class, which is just a class for seniors who are, predictably, working on their capstones to be able to bounce ideas off of and support each other. Since you and Kate are both seniors (and because you literally signed up for this class at the same time) you have the class together, thankfully—you keep each other sane by being insane together, and nowhere is that more apparent than when the two of you work on your respective theses.

“You think I can get away with calling Kant a cunt if I do it, like, academically?” Kate whispers into your ear from where she’s sitting next to you. She keeps her eyes on her laptop screen the entire time, making you choke back a laugh at her easy nonchalance.

“Not by using those exact words, but yeah, as long as you cite your sources.” You run the same drill as Kate, refusing to look away and draw suspicion as you both snicker quietly to yourselves. “Do you wanna grab coffee and pretend to keep working after class?”

“God, yes. Then I can tell you about what went down at last night’s Greek Life exec meeting.” She glances at you from the corner of her eye. “It came out that three of the Chi O sisters are dating each other.”

(With hindsight on your side, you’ll look back on this day and think with bitter regret about how utterly, perfectly normal the day the world ended was. The gossiping conversations, the plans being made, the going about your day with all the confidence that you’ll see tomorrow.

You miss that innocence.)

You gasp under your breath at this exciting tidbit. “No way! How did they–”

You’re cut off by the alarm on someone’s phone blaring. No, multiple phones are blaring out an emergency alarm, and those that aren’t are vibrating, yours included. People dig their phones out of pockets and backpacks, and you pick yours up from where it sits on the table next to your computer and flip it around so that you can see the screen.

You wish you didn’t.

“BALLISTIC MISSILE THREAT INBOUND. SEEK SHELTER. THIS IS NOT A DRILL,” the alert on your phone reads.

You look up at Kate as your classmates begin to mutter around you in a mix of nervous laughter and disbelief, only to see the same shock and confusion on her face that must surely be reflected in yours.

“Do you think this is real?” you ask, your heart beginning to hammer in your throat at the implications of such a message.

“It can’t be. It’s–it’s like that time in Hawaii, remember? We’ll get an alert in a few minutes saying that it was all a mistake,” she assures you, always so calm and rational about everything.

You nod and take a couple of deep breaths to calm down. Kate is right, you tell yourself. Somebody accidentally hit a button at a command center when they were trying to conduct a test, and now everybody’s freaking out as a result. They’ve probably already caught the mistake and are preparing to do damage control. The employee will lose their job, unfortunately, but that’s to be expected when accidentally causing mass panic. All in all, this will make a fun story in a couple of years: the time you thought you were about to be caught up in nuclear warfare.

Screaming draws your attention to the large windows to the right of you, and you and others cross the room to see what the commotion is. Outside, people of all ages are running in various directions across campus for—well, for their lives. The way everyone hurries reminds you of watching an ant farm. Someone trips and goes sprawling to their hands and knees, only to have to roll to the grass to prevent almost being trampled. Their belongings, having fallen from their grasp, are kicked and scattered without any care.

The panic from outside leaches through the wall and begins to spread through the classroom like a fast-moving disease. Warning sirens, which you didn’t know were still in operation after the Cold War, begin to wail. Some classmates start trying to reach friends or loved ones on their phones, while others just make a break for the door. At the front of the room, your professor sits, paralyzed, with tears running down his face while he scrolls his social media and tries to find anything to confirm that this is all just a terrible misstep. 

Your stomach drops like you’re lurching down from the top of a very tall roller coaster, and you look back at Kate. “We gotta go.”

“Where?” she asks. You just shake your head, throwing everything into your backpack and zipping it up before grabbing Kate’s hand. You don’t know where it is you need to go, only that you can’t stay here. Taking one last look back at the classroom to make sure you have everything, you and Kate join the flow of people heading down the stairs to try and escape.

Hand in hand so as not to get separated in the crowd, you both run through the campus green. It’s a perfect late-autumn day, really. The sun is high in the blue, cloudless sky and the temperature is warm, but with a bit of a chill from the wind. It’s the type of weather that makes you want to spend all day outside so as not to waste it. The juxtaposition, between the pleasant weather and the chaotic, frightened atmosphere, is not lost on you.

“Wait,” Kate raises her voice to be heard over the panicked din, “we need a plan.”

You wrack your brain, trying to think of anything beyond how scared you are. “Uh…we’ll get in my car, okay? I filled up on gas this morning. And–and we’ll drive as fast as we can, to get as far away as we can before the blast happens. I think we can get out of the major blast zone.”

“Okay, yeah. That sounds good.” 

She nods at you, and you nod back, both trying to reassure the other. The parking lot appears as you round a corner, and you tear your backpack around to your front so that you can find your keys.

“Wait!” Kate says again. “What about Brennan? And Michael?”

Hearing Michael’s name sends alarm bells flaring in the back of your mind. There’s something about him and this nightmare that are connected, but the primal parts of your brain, the one telling you that flight is the best option for survival right now, is too active for you to have any sort of introspection in this moment.

“Call them,” you answer without hesitation, “we can pick them up on the way out of town.”

Kate grabs her phone, finding Brennan’s number and hitting ‘call’ before holding the device up to her ear. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” she mutters, listening closely. “Fuck! I can’t get through.”

“Keep trying. One has to go through eventually. And if they don’t, we at least know where they both are.”

“Do you really think this is going to work? That we’re going to survive?” Kate asks, dialing Brennan once more.

The truth is that you don’t know. You hope it does, that you can at least give yourself a fighting chance to not immediately die when the missiles hit. But there’s just as big a chance that you can’t make it out, that you will die. That’s terrifying, and it makes your throat tighten from terror. The only thing that keeps you from outright freaking out is that, if you do die, at least you’ll have Kate right there next to you.

“I don’t know. But I can promise you that we’re going to try our hardest to survive,” you say.

You can see your car now, only a couple of rows away. Maybe you will actually make it. Maybe this plan will work, and the four of you will end up riding out the end of the world together. Maybe survival can happen; you’re all pretty resourceful, and if you can at least get past the blasts, you can—

An armored vehicle screeches to a halt in front of you, sending you and Kate rearing back as your path is cut off. Two figures dressed in black suits hop out and begin to walk towards you with a purpose. Behind them, military personnel also exit the vehicle. Immediately, your worst fears are confirmed, and you know what this must be. Trying to avoid the inevitable, you begin taking hurried steps back.

One of the men in black says your name. “You need to come with us,” he commands.

“Fuck you, I’m not going anywhere with you!” You try to run to your left, hoping to catch them off-guard and make a break for it, but the other man in black stands in front of you.

“I’m afraid we can’t accept that,” he says, motioning for the military personnel. 

Two of them approach you, their rifles belted to their fronts and serving as a menacing reminder that you have no power here. They each grab one arm and begin to drag you towards the vehicle, paying no mind to you as you start screaming and trying to fight your way out of their grasps. You hold desperately onto Kate’s hand for as long as you can, but it’s only a matter of time before you lose your hold.

“Wait! Where are you taking her?” you hear Kate yell behind you.

“Kate! Kate!” you shriek, high and piercing and terrified. 

You look over your shoulder to see two other soldiers blocking her from reaching you. You’re both sobbing, but there’s nothing either of you can do about it. You’re unceremoniously thrown into the backseat of the armored vehicle, the door slamming shut before you can even think to move. Up front, the driver throws it into gear and peals away from the parking lot. When you scramble to your knees, you’re forced to watch as Kate’s figure rapidly grows smaller and smaller.

“Please go back! You have to take Kate, too! Please!” you beg.

“Shut up!” One of the men shoves you down into your seat, and when you try to get up, he backhands you across the face.

“Hey, be careful with her!” another warns. “You remember what they said. No harm is to come to the boss’s wife.”

The pain of the slap has you reeling, but it also serves to clear your mind enough that the reality of what was just said begins to sink in. You’re apparently the boss’s wife, which means one thing and one thing only.

He’s done it, then? This is all the doing of one Michael Langdon, who for so long swore to you that the world would not end for years, that you would be well aware of when and if his plans were going to be realized? You don’t want to believe it, but, unfortunately, it’s the reality that you seem to be faced with. In response, your tears dry up, and you sit silently and stoically for the rest of the ride.

It’s not a very long journey to wherever you’re being taken to, maybe fifteen minutes or so before the truck is driven into a garage. You look out the back window again to see the garage door closing behind you, the rectangle of light growing smaller and smaller until it finally disappears. Deep down, you know that this was probably your last time seeing the sunlight. You don’t know whether watching it will make you feel better or worse.

The soldiers drag you out of the car just as they dragged you in, marching you through what looks like an underground parking garage towards an elevator and forcing you to stand between them as the men in black join your little group. One of them reaches out a hand, gloved in black leather, so they can stab at the control panel. Even though they press the topmost button, the elevator begins to move down.

The silence begins to stretch on, and you shift uncomfortably. “Is my—” your voice breaks, and you clear your throat. “Is Michael here?”

Predictably, they ignore you, staring straight ahead at their distorted reflections in the chrome doors.

When the doors do finally ding open, they reveal what looks like the living room of an apartment. The walls are bare, but there are all the normal furnishings that one would expect to find: a couch, a TV, a coffee table. There are no windows, you note, the only light available emitting harshly from the fixtures up above. You’re sat down on the couch, and you glare petulantly at your kidnappers.

“Where are we?” you demand. “I deserve answers.”

“You’ll be safe here,” one of them says instead of answering your question. 

Single-file, they move back into the elevator, presumably to return to the surface. As the doors shut once more, you hold eye contact with the soldier that hit you.

He looks at you in fear, his lower lip trembling almost imperceptibly.

The elevator whirs back to life as it begins its travels up, and the sound serves to jolt you out of your stunned state and remind you that you have free will. You jump up from the couch and run to the elevator, hoping for a way out. There’s no call panel on the wall next to it, meaning that the only way it can be accessed is from the inside. Effectively, you’re trapped.

Panic returns in full-force at this revelation, and you frantically start trying to get your fingers into the seam of the door. Maybe if you pull hard enough, you’ll be able to pry them open? You’re not sure what you’ll do after that, but at least then you’ll have options.

Just as you’re starting to delude yourself that you think you can feel a gap widening under your grip, an explosion rocks the world above you. It’s loud, louder than you thought possible for how far below ground you must be, and you scream as you fall to the floor. The shock of the blast reverberates all the way down to what must be the Earth’s core, causing the room to shake around you. The lights flicker and go out before being replaced by an eerie red glow, and an alarm starts to methodically sound.

A sob rips from you, your heart knowing what’s just happened before your brain can come to the same conclusion. A nuclear weapon, dropped right over your head. Death and destruction wreaking havoc on the world in a matter of seconds. Mere circumstance saving you, while those you love are left to perish.

Against your will, you’re forced to imagine the scenarios. Kate was probably still outside, nowhere near any sort of safety. Brennan must have been so worried, trying just as desperately until his last moments to try and reach Kate. Mallory, you know, would have been more worried for her students, for her girls, than herself. Your parents…fuck. You didn’t even get to tell your parents you love them. The grief is overwhelming, and threatens to swallow you whole.

A hand comes to rest under your chin, lifting your face up from where it’s been hanging in despair. Through tears, you see a figure with blue eyes and golden hair crouched in front of you. Their thumb gently presses on your lip, and you inhale sharply at the pain, the source of which must have been the slap.

“Who did this to you? Was it one of the personnel who brought you here?” he asks, fury in his tone.

“Michael,” you cry out, letting him collect you in his embrace. He’s so comforting, so familiar, that you can forget for a moment that he’s the source of your current agony.

“Oh my love, it’s alright. We’re both safe,” he soothes, rubbing a hand on your back as you sob into his shoulder. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t warn you beforehand, but these plans were extremely confidential.”

That reminds you who it is you’re crying on, and you pull yourself up off of his shoulder. Michael’s looking down at you with all the love in the world in his eyes and frowning just slightly in sympathy for your plight.

Rage, hot and incandescent, floods through your veins.

“You did this, then?” you ask.

He smiles proudly. “As I was born to do.”

“And…everybody’s dead?” Your voice comes out strangled, though you try your hardest to school your emotions.

“Not everybody. Those that managed to earn a spot in an Outpost are all alive and well. There will be a good number of people who were far enough away from blast zones to have survived the initial blast. The fallout will take care of them within a couple years, though.” He shakes his head in pity. “Nasty thing, nuclear fallout. If exposed for even a few minutes, cancer and sores can easily develop. Mutations as well.”

That sounds horrifying. However morbid it may be, for the sake of those you love, you hope that the blasts killed them.

The look on your face must match how you’re feeling, because Michael quickly takes your hands in his. “I know, it sounds terrible. But their deaths were necessary! They fulfill a purpose.”

“And what purpose is that?”

“To cleanse the world and remake it in my father’s image, for you and I to rule as we see fit.”

A wave of nausea takes over you, and you have to close your eyes and breathe deeply to keep from becoming sick. You stand, backing away from Michael as quickly as you can. He tries to follow, but you hold your hands out in front of you to stop him from coming any closer.

“You bastard,” you whisper.

His eyebrows furrow in confusion. “What?”

You look up at him, fire in your eyes. “You. Bastard.”

“You don’t really mean that.” You can’t tell if he’s in disbelief or if he’s challenging you to repeat that.

“Yes, I do. You killed them! You killed all of them, for no good reason—”

“You know the reason!” he yells, grabbing onto your upper arms and pulling you to him. Though you try to fight your way out of his grasp, your resistance is futile. “I am doing this for us,” he hisses. “So that we can have the future we’ve dreamed about, the future that we’ve earned with our hard work.”

“This is not the future I dreamed about.” You shove him away, making him glare at you as though you’re his enemy.

Your Michael, the one that you know and love, is nowhere to be seen. Gone is the Michael that would tell you everything. The Michael that researched grad schools as though he was the one that would be attending, the Michael that took a body shot off of you, the Michael that lit up the first time that he saw fireflies, the Michael that loved Valentine’s Day because it meant that he got to shower you in love and there was nothing you could do about it.

Now, there’s a man wearing your husband’s face, who stands before you unrepentant and assured in his actions. This stranger has been completely and utterly corrupted by his father, and in such a short amount of time. As it turns out, all of your hard work only served to send him quicker into the throes of darkness.

  “I don’t know who you are anymore,” you say, tears welling in your eyes for the umpteenth time today.

“This is who I have always been,” he proclaims proudly. “You just haven’t wanted to see it.”

“You’re a fucking monster.” Amidst all of the uncertainty that you’re currently faced with, through all of the horror you’ve been forced to endure in one day, this is what you can be certain of.

Michael smiles patronizingly, as though you’re a mere child who insists that the bogeyman is real and he’s the adult that knows better. “You’ll come to your senses. Just give it some time.”

He grabs your hand against your will, bringing it to his lips and kissing the back of it. 

“Soon, our reign begins.”

//

Tag List: @thatonehumanbeing05 @xavierplympton @hecohansen31 @blakescoven @wroteclassicaly @we-did-it-joe @codycrazy @love-on-the-murder-scene @michaellangdonswhore @nsainmoonchild @langdonsjoyy @aftertheglitterfades @ferndolan @iamlivingforturner @moonlike333 @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @angiestopit @littleangel4996 @xo-angel-ox @ajokeformur-ray

(I really don't know why I still do a tag list. Habit, I suppose.)

[black-aurora-nora]

Irreplaceable | Yandere!Avengers x Reader

You tediously dusted off the empty bookshelf spaces, balancing on a sliding ladder.

Once you were happy with your work, you slid to the next bookshelf, dusting the vacant area as you hummed along with a song that was playing through a speaker at the front of your library.

Just as you were about to slide to the next bookshelf, something jerked it to a stop and you glanced down.

"Don't fall now." Blue eyes stared back into yours and you smiled.

"Hey, Steve, I didn't hear you come in." You greeted happily, climbing down to hug him.

He gladly returned the hug, "So, did you get my text? You never responded."

You paused, gasping when you suddenly remembered, "Oh, yeah, you did message me.". A sad smile appeared on your lips, "I'm sorry, Steve, I can't. You know I'm busy with this place."

His eyes squinted ever so slightly, a tight smile on his face, "But you're always busy with this place. You deserve one night out to have fun."

You shrugged, "Taking care of these books is fun, Steve. And besides, I can't just take a break. My parents passed this place down to me as a trusted protector of the knowledge that resides in each of these books," You explained for the umpteenth time. This library was a huge honor and responsibility for you, it only made sense that you took it so seriously.

Steve sighed, "I know, I know. You're right. I'm sorry for pressuring you."

"It's fine, Steve. Look, if everyone wants to hang out, we could always hang out here in the library and..." You trailed off, looking through your schedule on your phone for next week, "I should be free next Thursday if I can get a family member down here to watch the books."

Steve visibly brightened at that, "That'll work! I'll make sure to text everyone."

That Thursday, you were invited for a night of hanging out at the Avengers Tower. Thankfully, you were able to get a cousin to watch the books for you while you took a break.

When the elevator doors opened, you were met with only smiles.

Everyone was here. Tony, Steve, Clint, Natasha, Bruce, even Thor; which you were actually surprised about.

"Ah, the bibliophile graces us with their presence." Tony announced, a drink already in his hand.

"It's nice to see you too, Tony." You chuckled.

Once all the formalities were out of the way, you all got to eating dinner. As you chatted, the subject of your library quickly came to light, much to your annoyance.

"So, (Y/N)," Bruce started, "How's the library?"

"Great." You answered, short and simple.

He nodded at that, glancing towards everyone else and then back at you, "Does it ever get boring? Are you happy, I mean?"

You frowned slightly at how he worded his question and shrugged nonchalantly, "Yeah, I love keeping the library. It's quiet, sure, but I've always loved the quiet."

Your answer was honest, as always, but none of them seemed to be happy with it. It was almost like they wanted you to not be happy with where you were in your life.

"Really? You don't want a bigger room at least?"

You lived in a one-room space that was converted into a bedroom above the very library that was handed down to you. It was ridiculously small, but you loved how cozy it was.

"No, I'm fine with the space." Wanting to change the subject you quickly asked, "Anyone down for a nightly stroll through the park?"

No one said anything. You were only met with strange silence and disappointed stares. It appeared that they didn’t want you to change the subject.

"Why is everyone being so awkward towards me?" You decided to ask directly.

No one said anything at first and you glanced at each of them. What had you done to make them feel this way towards you?

Tony threw his hands in the air, "I can't do this anymore." He stared right at you, "(Y/N), why won't you live here at the tower with us?"

You closed your eyes with a long, tired sigh, "Tony, please don't bring this back up-"

"Why not? What's stopping your from living here?" Natasha butted in.

"You've discussed this with everyone else too?" You asked Tony, clearly unimpressed with his actions.

"Well, yeah. They live here too, had to make sure they were cool with it." You didn't like how he was speaking as if you'd accepted his offer. As if you hadn't told him no in the past when he'd asked you about living in the tower.

At the questioning gazes piercing your soul, you decided you'd had enough and stood up.

"Let me explain this to you all; I have no interest in living here at the tower. I want to stay at the library and keep the books as my family has done for many, many generations. Do not ask me about living at the tower anymore."

Tony crossed his arms, "So you'll choose a bunch of dusty books over us?"

"Tony!" Steve scolded, but it didn't look like he cared.

"People would kill to live here, (Y/N), and you want to sit in some tiny library filled with books that hold little value? I mean, you look stupid!" He argued harshly and you gaped at him.

How could he say such things?

"I’m not choosing over anything or anyone. Those books may not mean anything to you, but they mean everything to me, asshole. And if this is what you think of something that's special to me, then we can't be friends." You snapped at the rest of them, "And you guys are assholes for not respecting my choices!"

"Young (Y/N), we are only looking out for you-"

You let out a long groan, "If you aren't going to listen to me and respect my wishes, I'm leaving." You declared, promptly walking away from the table and to the elevators.

"(Y/N)-" Clint started to follow you but Tony stopped him.

"No, no, just let her go." You heard Tony say.

Just as the elevator doors closed, you froze at what Tony said next.

"She'll be back."

When you got home and went to bed, you didn't sleep too well.

What Tony had said and how everyone else had reacted didn't sit right with you.

None of them made any effort to correct Tony except Steve and even his attempt seemed half-assed.

Why did they want you to live at the tower so badly? Why couldn't they just respect that you were happy where you were? That these books were more than just books? As if you couldn't possibly know what you really wanted?

For the whole year that you'd known each other, you never told them that you yearned for the lavish life. Hell, you never once complained about having to be the new bookkeeper for your family's library. Sure, you had bad days, but who didn't have bad days?

Deciding to try and put the past behind you, you rolled over and fell asleep.

_______________________________________________

A pounding knock from your library's front door jolted you from your deep slumber.

You clambered out of bed and went to your small window, peaking through the blinds to see multiple SHIELD vehicles parked outside in no particular order.

There were dozens of men and women, all dressed in agent uniforms, standing outside the vehicles or sitting inside them, waiting.

You quickly made your way downstairs to your library and unlocked the front doors.

"Phil Coulson, I work with SHIELD and we've received numerous tips that your library is holding confidential and dangerous information for HYDRA." The man, Phil, introduced professionally. "SHIELD has now taken custody of your books for further investigation into the matter."

"Wait, what?!" You exclaimed, "You can't just-just take my books! These books have been passed down through several generations!" You tried to explain.

Two agents stepped up, "Please step aside, (Y/N), you don't have ownership of this library anymore and are thereby trespassing."

"I..." You trailed off, watching as numerous agents shuffled into your library and began to shove your precious books into duffle bags. "Stop! I don't have any HYDRA info! Please put the books back!" You cried.

Just as the two agents from before were about to grab you, a familiar voice stopped them in their action.

"Hold on, we've got them!"

Steve and Clint quickly came up, worried eyes and all. But despite the worry, there was a small glint of guilt that you quickly picked up on.

And then everything clicked as soon as you picked up on it.

"You motherfuckers!" You screamed harshly, stepping right up to them with an ugly glare. "Where the fuck is Tony? Tell him to give me my fucking library back! Right now!" You knew that he had something to do with this.

Steve held his hands up carefully, "(Y/N), Tony doesn't have command over SHIELD. Why don't you come with us to cool down?" He offered gently, Clint nodded along.

You didn't move, eyes flicking between the two, "I'm not going anywhere with you guys. I want my library back!"

Clint stepped up, "We can't do that. It would just be best if you came back to the tower with us. We can take care of you now since you don't have really have a place to stay anymore." There was a strange, inappropriately placed happiness in his voice when he said that.

You paused.

Your lips trembled and your eyes began to water.

You could feel your throat getting tight.

Steve was quick to try and give you comfort, but you slapped his hand away as if it burned.

"Get away from me! You guys ruined everything!" You sobbed.

The sorrow you felt was far too painful. It didn't couple well with the anger that was bubbling inside you.

And that definitely didn't mix well with the sight of your precious books being taken out by the duffel bag and stuffed into black cars.

You'd had to prove yourself for years before your parents finally deemed you worthy of being the next protector of the library. You'd never be able to face them now.

In a matter of 12 hours, you lost something incredibly important to you.

All because of your ex-friends who failed to understand that you had your own life and responsibilities.

Something in you broke and you lunged at whoever was standing closest to you, which happened to be Steve.

You fought and screamed with all your might, not caring or noticing that your hits and scratches did little to nothing to Steve’s seemingly impenetrable skin.

And though you weren’t doing anything to him physically, it did seem that he was bothered by you attacking him in such an angry manner.

“(Y/N), (Y/N)-please calm dow-it’s okay!” He gripped you arms to your body to hold you still, barely caring as you kicked and thrashed and cursed in teary frustration, “We’ve got you now, you’re okay.”

You weren’t listening anymore. You couldn’t hear anything other than your own sobbing.

Your life was ruined.

“Steve, I don’t think she’s gonna calm down. I’ll just signal Natasha.” Clint said, muttering something to his earpiece.

You were held as still as possible and felt a small sting in your neck.

It wasn’t long before your thrashing slowed to a stop and your vision went black.

[maximotts]

𝙻𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝙵𝚒𝚟𝚎: 𝙰𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚎 𝙴𝚗𝚟𝚒𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎

a/n: I'm reuploading this out of SPITE because tumblr FLAGGED it and I'm super upset because I spent all weekend!!!! working on this silly little thing!! if you see the first version, no you don't... okay bye

✎— priest’s daughter!Wanda x college student!reader ✎— confessions AU; Wanda finally gives enough hints that you catch on, but she’s still supposed to be helping you study aka you try a more hands-on approach to learning for the both of you ✎— warnings: this is an 18+ series, minors DNI; fluff, smut; virginity loss, (if I put what I put in the first version, I'll get flagged) they're playing Doctor, alright? Go with it... Wanda’s just getting softish smut times

✎— words: 7k

series masterlist. || main masterlist.

It was Thursday and Wanda was stewing. 

All week you’d barely touched her, keeping distance that Wanda hadn’t asked for nor did she want. Even when alone, you’d kiss her when she asked, but only quickly no matter how she pouted. She wanted to ask you, but each time she tried she chickened out, worried she’d be too much of a bother or come off as annoyingly needy. 

Today though, she’d had enough. Wanda settled on a shorter than normal pleated skirt minutes before you knocked on her door, grinned to herself whenever she caught you staring at her legs as you walked to class. You’d given good faith effort in giving her space, testing if she truly did want you as you hoped or if she was following your lead. 

The past six days of not only Wanda’s growing desperation, but yours as well, taught you that no, you really were into one another. Now, you had to find a way to do something about it. 

It was funny really, how some opportunities presented themselves, sometimes perfectly laid out and others thickly cloaked in an semi-innocent request to hang out. You had to be quiet about it, your professor droning on about something you’d long since given up learning, but if you texted her, Wanda wouldn’t have answered so whispering it was. “Will you help me study if I come over after class?”

Next week’s test was bound to be a killer with how little attention you paid in class; if only the subject was Wanda instead of witch trials. Thankfully you had the next best thing to lectures at your disposal: Wanda’s meticulous note-taking skills. You’d never think of asking her to help you cheat, she was too uptight of a student for that, but she was always willing to be your study partner, an offer you had yet to pass up whenever test time rolled around. 

Wanda turned to you, quickly dropping her pen and smiling way too bright for such a simple question, but it’d been a few days since you’d spent time together outside of class and she was beginning to worry she really had ruined whatever the two of you had. Maybe Agatha’s online skirt choice was magical; she’d have to fill her in on whatever happened later, if anything. “You know you’re always welcome, silly. I’ve missed you.”

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

The familiar sight of you unzipping your backpack, unloading your various notebooks to sprawl across your living room just didn’t feel right today. For all your hatred of studying, right now you seemed much more keen on it than she was.. and she hated it. Wanda hadn’t worn this stupid skirt, exposing her legs to too cold weather for nothing. Deeply uncharacteristic confidence washed over her then, a determination to set the mood as much as she dared. The living room wasn’t the right setting, not where you’d both be sat upright and away from one another. Wanda needed close proximity and intimacy and the place where she’d accomplished the most of that so far was only in the next room.

She swooped in to take your books, gathering them up and clutching them too frantically to her chest. In her head, Wanda was smooth about it, seductive and alluring; the clumsiness of her real self left her cringing internally, but she committed to playing it off, “Maybe we should study in my room?”

Wanda was walking away before you’d had a chance to respond, both of your bookbags over her shoulder and your textbooks in her hand, heading to her bedroom in a rush. Your brow furrowed at her sudden change of behavior, but she was too far away not to question her skittishness. You didn’t mind, it was just…odd. Whatever she was up to, you wouldn’t pass up getting cozy to Wanda and so, confused as you were, you followed her like an obedient puppy.

Turns out, even pretending to study was a struggle. More so when Wanda was perched so prettily in her own bed, swinging her stocking clad feet off the edge of the mattress. It couldn’t have been anything other than sheer stupidity that you chose to sit in the swiveling desk chair instead of next to her. Not that that would make studying classwork any easier. 

“This is so boring, Wands, I can’t focus,” Just then your eyes scanned the same textbook pages you’d had open for twenty minutes, caught the topic of this week’s quiz, and a wicked thought blossomed fast.

“I’ve read enough books and seen more than enough movies to know all I need to know about witch’s marks I think,” Wanda made a noncommittal noise, highlighting line after line of important text studiously just as she did in class— but this wasn’t a lecture hall. Outside of school, without distractions, you had a plan and the time to boot; this test could wait. 

Setting aside your books, you stood up and made your way over to Wanda, sitting beside her like you’d done so many times before. This time though, your position was for anything but platonic. Mischievous fingers brushed Wanda’s long hair over her shoulder, tucking it behind her ear to get the view you were after. “Did you know some people used to think freckles were witch’s marks? And that you belonged to the devil if you had them?”

“Yes, I did and it’s ridiculous. A freckle is just a random mark, anyone can have them. Most people do,” The brunette was overly aware of you slowly sneaking closer, rambled on about the biology of freckles to compensate for her rise in nerves. The last time she’d taken a millisecond long glance at you, your gaze was locked onto her neck so intensely she was sure there was something there. Her free hand came to cover whatever it was, but you were quicker, grabbing her wrist and lowering her arm back into her lap. “What are you-”

“Oh look, a witch.” Two fingers danced along Wanda’s neck, pattern set by the myriad of freckles you’d stared at nearly every day of your life for months. Stiff as she was, Wanda didn’t move, not even as you inched closer for a closer look. When you kissed the tiny mark behind her ear she sighed, shuddering out a breath; Wanda being so quick to rile was still one of your favorite things. After so long of thinking about you without actually getting you, she was arguably easier to set off.

You weren’t doing much, just featherlight kisses over the few freckles visible outside of the collar of her sweater, but to Wanda, the room was already starting to feel warmer. She wanted you to continue though, hoped your careless push of her neglected study materials off her lap meant you were going to, “I have a lot of freckles.”

That made you pull away, devilish smirk plain as day on your lips. Having seen a few of them in Wanda’s various outfits, you knew she did have quite a few and although you’d dreamt of it once or twice, you’d obviously never gotten to take your sweet time mapping them out. “Can I see them?”

Wanda took inventory of all her known freckles and immediately realized her own error, “Not all of them…” The majority of her freckles were scattered across her chest and midsection with some on her arms, but at least a handful on her thighs where she’d been daydreaming of your mouth for days. She remembered it all so vividly, couldn’t yet look at a picture of ice cream without squeezing her legs together; Wanda didn’t know how she had a hope of handling you all over.

“Why not? You can be a cute little witch,” Your arms caged her in on either side of her legs, kissing along her jawline for as long as she let you. Gentle lips covered the two freckles on the apple of Wanda’s cheek at once, purposefully leaving a wet mark to chill in your absence, “and I’ll be the doctor assigned to come take a look at you.” 

Shaky breaths breezed over your chin in your closeness and you looked up to find Wanda’s eyes already fluttering closed and were you not so stubbornly set on your original plan, you’d abandon it just to envelope her in a hug. It wasn’t good medical practice to fall for your patients, but you never said you’d be a good practitioner. “I won’t tell anyone…”

“Uhm…” She fidgeted with her hands, unsure of what she was supposed to do when she only wanted to lay back and enjoy the attention. Playing doctor was the last thing she’d expected to be doing with you, nor did she know how to play— if there even was a proper way to let someone poke and prod at you. It excited her though, wiggling in the narrow space you’d left her with and she begged her voice to speak up and agree. Most importantly, Wanda wanted to keep herself focused enough not to say or do anything to turn you away, but at her core, even in the safety of her apartment, she was shy. “Promise?”

Wanda felt you nod your head seconds before your teeth grazed her throat, some faint agreement mumbled into her warm skin. Further down, your hand found hers, prying her fingers apart to loop your pinky with hers, “Pinky promise. It’ll be our little secret.”

The soft little touch warmed Wanda’s heart, knowing you only promised in such a way for her benefit; she always spoke of the importance of a pinky promise. Finally given something to do, she pulled at the edges of her sweater and shimmied her arms out before stretching the thick knit over her head. “Okay, doctor, tell me what you think…” 

Wanda tried to keep her apartment at a reasonable temperature, but now she felt chilled, exposed to your hungry, wandering gaze and she was left feeling just as scared as she was excited. But you looked at her as if she was something to marvel at, some rare artwork; Wanda chose to believe the stare was genuine instead of for the sake of the game. That alone kept her comfortable.

“You certainly do have a lot,” Careful hands roamed over your new discovery, taking note of the small marks you spotted either from remembering them on her shoulders or new ones that caught your eye. Luckily for you, the very nature of inspections required time and detail because you’d always been a tactile learner. 

No matter where you placed them, every kiss to Wanda’s skin brought out a new noise, each squeak, whine, and whimper spurring you on further. She kept still as you dragged fingertips over the pattern of freckles on her back and hips and held her arms, but then you ducked down, taking count of each mark over her chest and abdomen— she shouldn’t have shuddered as hard as she did. “I don’t think you’re doing it right…”

“How would you know, hm?” You were slow, deliberate, making the most of your doctor role by testing her reactions, scraping your nails down her back to judge her shivers, sucking and biting anything you found on a part of her you wanted to linger longer like the dip of her hips or right over the swell of her breast peeking from her bra. You could’ve lost yourself in her so easily, sweet perfume luring you into staying and worshiping her until your mouth grew tired. “Anyone ever accused you of being a witch before?”

Wanda shook her head slowly, focusing instead on your tongue leaving thick wet lines over her stomach. It was cruel really, the same thing you’d done last week at the fair, but this time there was no one else around, nothing to take your focus off her. She’d never craved attention more in her entire life. “‘M not a witch..”

Your pleased hum tickled right under her ribs, a pleasant little flutter before your teeth met yet another freckle you’d found. “No… you’re such a good girl.” The words shouldn’t have bothered her, really they didn’t; in any other situation Wanda wouldn’t be scared that they meant you’d stop once more. She couldn’t disagree though, only shifted her legs just the tiniest bit further apart as your hands smoothed over her thighs. Wanda didn’t mind being good, not if it all brought her to this, to you.

Carefully ironed pleats folded easily as you pushed up with your palms, but then a shocking thing— her stockings stopped at her upper thigh, giving way to metal clasps and satin straps on either side of her outer legs. An immodest change of dress, one that had you shifting against the mattress yourself. “Sweet little Wanda… does your daddy know you wear garters and thigh highs instead of proper tights now?”

The thought of anyone else knowing mortified her. This was only Wanda’s second day wearing them and yes, maybe she’d donned them specifically in the hopes you’d uncover them, but she couldn’t admit to such an atypical act. “I- no, it’s not what you think!”

“No? You know what I think, Wanda? I think you want to misbehave.” Wanda was staring up at the ceiling faster than she realized you’d pushed her back, skirt hopelessly rucked about her waist as you hitched her legs about your hips. The taut elastics of her tights snapped back on her with a sting that made her yelp, such a cute noise you found yourself repeating the action just to hear it again.

“You want to go out and get wasted, ask me to fuck you, and have nasty sex in the back of someone’s car like you always make fun of movie characters doing,” You weren’t wrong. She’d stopped denying it now, too busy fighting the urge to close her eyes as blunt fingernails grazed over her brand new lace underwear. 

They did absolutely nothing to shield her from even the barest stimulation and between wearing them in class and now this afternoon, Wanda already felt nearly unbearably hypersensitive. Natasha was right; the only reason to wear these were if you planned on getting laid and god, Wanda hoped that was exactly what you were about to do. “Are you tired of being an angel, sweet thing?”

Correct as you were, the brunette still couldn’t say it, refused to own up to her suggestive behaviors and lose her lifelong good girl status. As annoying as it was sometimes, that’s all Wanda knew herself as, all you knew her as. What if she gave it up and you lost interest in her? The rational parts of Wanda’s brain interjected, reminded her of just who’d suggested this imaginative play, who was currently hovering above her waiting for an affirmative response to keep whatever this inspection was going. If you liked her then and still showed interest now, would she actually be losing anything?

She stared up at you with pleading green irises, the faintest hint of her nod rustling the pillow supporting her head. Her legs stayed rested around yours as you pulled back, massaging her hips as a gentle comfort while you finished the last of your inspection. You swept in to give due attention to any freckles you might’ve missed last week, arms circling around each thigh as you dragged your mouth over them, pleased to find your hickeys hadn’t yet fully faded. 

Meanwhile, Wanda was barely holding on. Her upper half squirmed above you, helplessly trapped in your strong grip. Each time you got close enough for her to feel your breath on her neglected sex, she was sure she would break; everything felt too warm, too alive, body bathed in a steadily rising heat, Wanda could swear she was sweating bullets into the bed. She’d miscalculated how affected someone could be without being touched in those particular few areas. Wanda always thought the girls in videos she watched were playing it up for the camera and sure, a good number of them probably were, but the right person with the right actions could be world-changing no matter where they touched. “Please-”

“Please what? Stop?” If she could’ve managed it, Wanda would’ve screamed no. What came out instead was a desperate, barely audible plea— one that died out as soon as you brushed one final kiss to her cunt. You couldn’t help yourself, tongue darting out to taste the wet spot you very happily took credit for. Through the thin material, you could just make out the shape of her and you licked slowly, long, deliberate things that were way too easy to have looked up and seen Wanda’s mouth agape.

But everything always felt like more when it was new, and when your hand joined in, cupping her sex possessively, Wanda groaned out loud. “You got wet from this?” Instinctively, she nodded, ready to agree to whatever she needed to if you’d just let her cum. Inexperienced as she was, Wanda was so terribly precious and so responsive, you wished you’d done this sooner. “Between this and all your pretty little hidden freckles… I don’t think you’re nearly as innocent as you say.”

“I swear no one’s ever touched me before, oh god-” Wanda gasped, licking her lips as your thumb pressed into her, finding her clit as if you’d been given a map straight to it. She always knew she was sensitive, had obviously rubbed herself to orgasm a good handful of times before, but you were better, knew just how to edge her to let her see the edge of oblivion on the horizon for as long as you pleased.

You chuckled then, low and dark, a laugh you hadn’t meant to be seen as sinister; you were just enjoying the sweet and squirmy Wanda beneath you— but for her, something clicked, traitorous brain remembering the last thing she’d want to right now or ever again. The thought made her cringe and tense, the only thing she knew would ruin this moment if she didn’t confirm it for herself, “Where’s your phone?”

“My phone?” You had to stop and think, both the question and its answer stumping you, “I haven’t seen it since I came in. I think it’s on the kitchen table..” Wanda gathered just enough willpower to pat your pants pockets, giving all four of them her own thorough inspection as if your phone was suddenly more important than the sex she’d been hinting at wanting for weeks now. “Why do you care?”

You let her check until she was satisfied, watching Wanda exhale a heavy breath before flopping back onto the mattress, “Don’t worry about it.” 

But you had that concerned look in your eye again, the same as nights ago right before you took her to the car and barely looked at her for days. Tonight though, she’d be damned if you left her like this again. She draped her arms around your neck, peppering your face with kisses before you could decide it was time to stop or give her space or some other dreadful end to your study session. “I’m sorry, it’s fine. I’m fine, you can uh.. continue now?”

Not the smoothest transition from such a sudden interruption, but you didn’t want to discourage anything that made her comfortable so you opted to let it slide. If she insisted she was alright, whatever it was, you could always ask later. “Oh yeah, you want me to continue?”

Wanda agreed immediately, wiggling her hips to coax your perfectly positioned hand to move once more. Now she’d had a taste of it and nothing would sate that incessant itch still running through your veins unless you were the one to do it for her. She’d had more than enough getting off by herself; she wanted to know what sex was like, what you were like. “Yes, keep going…”

“Can I hear you say please?” Your palm rubbed over her roughly, enough to leave Wanda whining, but not to push her over any edge. Yes, you teased her for being good, but only because you loved those qualities in the other woman. It was so sweet how intently she obeyed rules; you couldn’t not use that to your advantage. 

She didn’t want to come off as needy, but that’s exactly what she was. Maybe in the future Wanda would push back more, insist that she didn’t want to beg, but for her present self, she’d do just about anything you asked. “Please…”

“What about..” It’d been too long without a kiss; a quick one for the sake of the last bits of your game, but nonetheless one Wanda chased when you pulled away, “Pretty please?” You could tell the only thing keeping the girl under you from having a fit was sliding your hand over her clit once more, something small for her to cling onto as you teased her into oblivion. Really you’d never met a girl so responsive, so sensitive, you hadn’t even gotten to take her underwear away before rendering her so needy.

“Please…pretty please, just touch me…” You were busy sucking a proper hickey into her neck when you finally slid two fingers into her panties, meeting her wet sex with a moan of your own. It was only a few rolls of your fingertips over her clit before Wanda was shaking, her thighs clamping unexpectedly around your hand, halting its movements before you had the chance to truly explore. There was some sadistic pleasure you got out of it, bringing Wanda to her end with so little effort— your darling little virgin to play with.

Her arms tightened impossibly around your neck, clutching you close while Wanda’s hips stuttered into the mattress. She wanted to love this orgasm, and to some extent she did, couldn’t deny that on a base level, it felt wonderful to release the tension the two of you’d built over the past several hours. But the higher, more aware pieces of Wanda were mortified for cumming so quickly just seconds after you’d first touched her. Stunned into silence, she waited for you to rip away and laugh at her or be mad that she’d lost so much control your fun was cut short. 

Reality though, was much different, better, as Wanda quickly found out the embarrassment of it all turned her on a little bit more, mostly because you never actually stopped your examination. Persistent hands only drew further into her panties, gathering whatever wetness your fingers found and smoothing it over the smooth skin of her folds, “Poor little church girl, just got so worked up she couldn’t help herself…”

There was an argument to be made that maybe you were having too much fun, but when you caught sight of Wanda’s flushed cheeks, lips swollen and lipstick smudged from her own biting as well as yours, you had to rethink if there was such a thing as too much when it came to Wanda. “You’re blushing so hard I’d think you didn’t like this if I couldn’t feel how soaked you are.” 

Your words did nothing to ease the deep red blossoming bright over her face and chest, but she couldn’t ignore you; you wouldn’t let her. Your free hand came to her jaw, a gentle nudge back in place to make her look at you— Wanda didn’t need force to be the good girl she inherently was. 

“Gonna let me make you cum again?” Small circles over her sensitive bud brought Wanda back to attention, head nodding as she let her arms fall heavily to her sides. She’d have been content just like that in all honesty, without making her cum again and simply letting her swim in ecstasy until she fell off to sleep, but you wanted to show her what a real, on purpose orgasm felt like. 

You moved on far too soon in her opinion, letting your wet fingers slide back and forth through her sex until Wanda was whimpering. Stroking over her weeping entrance earned you a surprised squeak, hand quick to grab your wrist and still it. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

Saying it aloud sounded silly; you knew she was a virgin and thanks to that silly never have I ever, you were well aware she’d masturbated before, but somehow it sounded worse to admit she’d never really put anything inside until now. “It’s just, well.. No one’s ever, I’ve never, done that.” 

You thought back to that night of Carol’s party as best as you could, remembered their teasing about the vibrator and Wanda’s lack of response which now made perfect sense. And oh did that strengthen your resolve to fuck her all that much more. Sure, all of this was new to the girl, but there was something about being the first person ever to see Wanda in such a state, spread open and vulnerable underneath you, awakened some primal need. “I’ll make you feel so good, Wanda, promise… Can I be your first?”

It was sweet of you to ask, a little late after she’d just cum a few minutes prior, but Wanda let her hand drop anyway, accepted the reassuring set of kisses you planted from her ear to the corner of her mouth as you began circling over her tight ring of muscle yet again. She couldn’t deny how much she’d thought about it, especially in the past couple weeks as you’d infiltrated her late night fantasies, having thought about any multitude of ways you could finally fuck her. They ranged from soft and sweet to rough and dirty; sometimes you’d lay her back and hold her as you pushed however many fingers you wanted into her, others you bent her over the nearest surface, already wearing the strap on toy she knew for a fact was tucked away in your closet, taking her so possessively she wept. 

Today had her leaning towards the first option, at least in actions. Words though, Wanda was much more flexible with those— even if she couldn’t make herself say fuck me right now. “Be gentle? Maybe only one at first…” 

You mumbled your agreement, letting your middle finger sink into her entrance for the first time. She’d prepared herself for some sort of pain or discomfort and admittedly, the small intrusion was weird for the first minute or so. You pulled out, so far she thought you’d leave completely, but then you drove back in and as you set a steady pace, slow as it was, Wanda started to feel better about it. “That’s it, baby, there you go… relax for me.”

It was easier to move after she’d taken a deep breath, one Wanda wasn’t aware she was holding in, inhaling and exhaling as you pushed into her again and again. Eventually your hand shifted, angling differently as if you were searching for something; she intended to ask what you were doing, but then your fingertip ran against something deep and Wanda choked on her words. 

You brushed against it lazily, giving the spot enough attention to catch your lover’s back arching, fighting the urge to start wiggling again too early, confirming it was just the place you were looking for. “Do you like it when I touch you there?”

This time when you stopped your hand, Wanda started moving her hips of her own accord, selfishly seeking out what you’d been able to find so easily. Vaguely she wondered if she’d muster up the courage to put her fingers inside herself next time she was on her own, was curious if she asked nicely enough would you show her how to do it. But no words left her mouth. And so your hand stayed motionless.

“Words, baby. Tell me what you like.” Partly just to hear her say it, but also to check in, needing to make sure you weren’t giving her too much too fast. Experienced as you were, you’d never taken anyone’s virginity before; you didn’t know how you’d forgive yourself if Wanda had a bad time because of you. She was all too special for that, whether you wanted to admit your feelings for her or not.

 “I do like your fingers…” Somehow Wanda had drawn you close enough to give you kisses now, her previously unoccupied hands finding their way under your shirt while her lips stayed busy at the hollow of your throat. She didn’t know what she was doing really, had no idea if you even liked to be touched in such a way, but she took your faint moan next to her ear as a yes. “You can add another, if you want.”

“Yeah?” You moved your head just enough to make eye contact, her shy nod making your heart swell. When you pushed back in this time, two digits stretched her open, patient as the first one had been, but Wanda whined at the new full feeling just the same. She was so hot and silky smooth, it felt like heaven around your fingers, Wanda’s walls constricting around you as you finally began inching deeper, “You’re so tight, Wanda, fuck..”

Her legs fell further apart as you inched closer, driving your fingers deeper on every stroke. Now you angled yourself purposefully, pressing into your new discovery until Wanda was gasping and panting. “Can you hear how wet you are? All I needed to do was fill you up a bit and you’ve gone all gushy and submissive, huh?”

A finger pressed to her lips silenced her long enough to force Wanda to listen to the obscene noises of you fucking into her, slick enough to coat your fingers and drip down the curve of her ass; she was sobbing with need by the time your thumb met her abandoned clit again. Wanda didn’t think the naughtiness of this should be affecting her nearly as much as it was, but she was far too gone to care. She felt bad and she loved it, already craved the next time you could make her feel this way. “Oh god, yes… please please-”

“Shh, I’ve got you, princess, go on and let me see you cum again.” It was too close to the words she’d imagined you saying for so long; paired with the coordinated curls of your fingers and rubs over her stuff bud, Wanda was falling all over again. Harder the second time, uninhibited moans and mewls echoing off the walls of her bedroom as her hips jerked and she clung to you. Diligently, you moved with her as she rode each new wave, letting her savor her first real orgasm at the hands of another person. It was amazing really, how beautiful she could look with her face all scrunched, forehead covered in the thinnest sheen of sweat, but the more you looked, the more you realized it was just Wanda you cared about.

No matter what she looked like, how she was, what she’d done or not done, you liked her so much you swore you could feel her tug at your heartstrings. “Such a pretty princess, what a good girl you are…”

Wanda never wanted you to stop talking to her, each new praise sending another aftershock through her oversensitive form. You took your fingers away before any pleasure could turn into pain, but she refused to let you free, even when you tried to get up. “Don’t leave yet.”

“I’m not leaving, I was just going to get you cleaned up.” She mumbled an okay, but still held on for a few minutes and you let her, ignoring the strain being bent over your knees brought to your lower back. You spent your time kissing over whatever bits of her neck and shoulder you could reach until Wanda released you, finally letting you sit up and stretch.

There was only silence as you peeled her wrinkled skirt and soaked underwear from her hips and down her legs, taking them with you to discard in her desk chair before grabbing her current pair of pajama shorts from the top of her dresser where she folded them each morning. The closest sweatshirt was the one she seemed to have permanently borrowed from you and so that returned back to the bed with you. You supposed you could’ve asked to borrow a pair of her sweatpants instead of just shedding your own on the ground and climbing back over to her, but your only thoughts were on how uncomfy yours had become and getting Wanda a new set of her own. 

“Can you sit up for me, sweetheart?” She did, slow as molasses, leaning heavily on your shoulders as soon as you switched her sweater for your hoodie. You were gentle in setting her back down in case she didn’t control her own fall, guiding her head into her pillow to make sure she didn’t hit it on anything else. “It’s not late yet and you’re so tired.”

It was a gentle tease, both of you knowing full well why she felt so spent, but for Wanda who’d never experienced such a sleepy post-sex haze, she didn’t have the willpower to fight something so blissful. “Does that mean cuddling with me is a no for now?”

You laughed at that, lifting her bottom half to let her shorts settle fully in place. “When have I ever said no to that?” Settling next to her was easy, Wanda rolling over until she was cozily plastered to your side, arms and legs wrapping around you like a koala. Smoothing her hair out as she rested her head on your chest, tranquility settled over you both, leaving Wanda to her many thoughts.

For as hyped as it was, Wanda didn’t really feel any different. Relaxed and sated, a pleasurable lingering throb between her legs, yes, but not dissimilar to the person she woke up as this morning. The biggest shift she felt was with you, your gentle coos and endearing massages to her back, hand having snuck under her sweatshirt just to prolong skin to skin contact; you were different to her. Not that you’d ever been rough with her, but there was some new level of intimacy that remained unlabeled, neither of you willing to speak up and address it.

“So..” She didn’t know where to start, what to talk about after having someone buried knuckle deep inside her, “That was something…”

“Certainly was,” Of all things, you weren’t surprised such casualness would come from her lips first; this was Wanda you were dealing with. Sweet, lovely Wanda Maximoff. “Something good? Unless you hated it-”

“No! Not at all, I really really liked it,” Unchanged as she felt, none of it meant Wanda was uninterested in sex, quite the opposite really. Now that the first hurdle was over, she felt freer to test out more; she’d started to believe she’d never get to try it out. Maybe now, with you who was so willing to take her how she is, you’d explore right along with her. “I’d put it in the great category, at least.”

“Oof, just great? What an ego blow,” You faux pouted, sighing dramatically as Wanda clamored atop you. As much as you’d loved seeing your doctor game play out, it meant nothing if Wanda went away unsatisfied, but if her wide grin and rosy cheeks were any indicator, she enjoyed herself just fine and that was a true job well done.

It was her turn to fix you now, tickling your sides until you cracked a smile and kissing your jaw. Wanda hadn’t expected you to be any kind of insecure about your abilities, not when you’d been so patient with her, kind enough to not only indulge her in the sex she desired, but also check in and make sure she was alright. She didn’t think she could fall for you more than she had, but today you’d proven her so very wrong. “Fine, it was more than great. It was the best orgasm I’ve ever had and I can’t wait to do it again. Happy?” 

“Oh? Can’t wait, huh?” The brunette shook her head, hips pressing down against yours suggestively. She was more than aware you hadn’t gotten to cum, didn’t know how to offer that to you, but hopefully if she hinted enough you’d catch on. You squeezed her sides, let her rock slowly back and forth, greedily taking the small amount of friction to soothe your pent up need. There was no way you’d have predicted she’d give any thought to you on her first time, but again, it shouldn’t have shocked you when your new lover was an always caring Wanda. “I thought you were about to take a nap.”

“You said it yourself, it’s early…” Wanda bent until she could rest her elbows on either side of you, rutting her pelvis down to yours more insistently now. After a few moments, you did start guiding her motions, selfishly moving her at the pace that felt best to you. Neglecting to put new underwear on Wanda meant there weren’t many layers between the two of you, both losing yourselves quickly to the heat growing from being pressed together. 

If you’d stayed like that for the rest of the evening, you’d be the happiest student on campus, perhaps just long enough to find your own orgasm. But as it was, you were barely on the precipice of hitting that high when Wanda’s phone chimed from across the room. She jumped away from you as if whoever was calling could see what was happening and you groaned, more needy than irritated, but Wanda was already leaping out of bed.

Only three people tended to call her: you, who was clearly preoccupied at the moment; Pietro, but he always texted first to make sure she wasn’t busy; and her father, who called out of the blue and worried himself sick when Wanda didn’t pick up the phone. As she approached her desk, the picture of her and him together on the day he’d first dropped her off to college lit up the screen and she knew it was him. “Hi, papa! Yes yes, I’m doing perfectly fine…”

You didn’t understand most of the conversation, Wanda flowing in and out of Sokovian as she told him she was okay and easily lied about being engrossed in homework as to why she hadn’t answered the phone immediately. She paced back and forth over the carpet as they discussed something you’d made out to be related to home, the call only ending because Wanda insisted that although she wanted to talk more, she had to get back to her studying. Her face lit up then and you assumed he must’ve given her some praising comment, Wanda’s smile always hopelessly wide when she felt proud of herself. 

Signing off with an I love you too, Wanda hung up and pursed her lips before turning your way with a forlorn look. “What’s up?”

As soon as you sat up, opening her arms to beckon her back over, Wanda made her way to you, settling on her mattress with her legs thrown over your lap. “My dad misses me,” She supposed she really shouldn’t complain, not when she truly did love him so much, but he stressed so much it in turn made her worry about him and if her absence was more of a burden than something for him to be proud of. “I said I’d visit this weekend, but I don’t have a car which means he always has to come pick me up and drive back and I hate making him do that.”

“I’ll drive you.” The words were out of your mouth before you processed them, having offered up your services without Wanda even asking for your help. You didn’t regret saying it; you wanted to see Wanda’s town where she and most everyone you knew grew up, curious about her childhood home Wanda always spoke of so fondly. 

“And make you do the same thing, only twice? No, that’s not fair.” Wanda couldn’t ask you to do that; she really should learn to drive one of these days. Technically she did know how, but she’d never bothered to get her full license; she never had anywhere to go that she couldn’t walk to or get Pietro to drive her. She’d never expected her dad would insist on coming to pick her up to spend time with her so often and she was too polite to tell him it was too much, not that he’d ever listen.

“Well..” You nuzzled into her cheek, wanting to rouse Wanda from her worries and keep her mood light. Besides wanting to explore Westview, a part of you resented having to spend a whole weekend without Wanda so soon and you were loath to admit you’d be bored on your own. “If your dad wouldn’t mind a guest, maybe I could spend the weekend with you?” 

She twisted to face you then, eyes wide with disbelief. No one ever came to her house for her; to ask about Pietro or wonder if the local priest was available for impromptu advice, but never just.. for Wanda. “You want to go home with me… and stay?”

“Unless you think your dad would mind, but otherwise sure, why not. We could leave tomorrow after class and drive back on Sunday, that’s what you’ve done before, right?” So far this school year, Wanda’s only been home once, an uncharacteristic drop from the nearly every weekend she’d gone in the past few years of college. The excuse she’d used was you, her father having heard so much about you from how Wanda cited her plans with you as to why she was busy so often. 

Even so, he was always excited for her, happy his daughter had someone to spend so much time with, and Wanda knew he wouldn’t have any problems getting to finally meet you. Her concern was if you’d run for the hills as soon as you met him and his overbearing ways. “Just… bring nice clothes, okay? If you wear too many t-shirts and ripped jeans, he’ll accuse me of making friends with some girl version of my brother.”

[neuromedical]

I thought I had such a shitty day at work on Thursday, my senior coworkers had to do a lot of things for me because I had work in other wards and I felt quite useless for my own ward... To be fair there wasn't a lot of us, people were on vacations, but still. It didn't feel good. It was also my shift so I wouldn't leave until next morning. Thankfully the night was peaceful.

And today I get a text from a coworker that they actually liked the way I do morning handover??? I'm not crying... Ok maybe I am a little... It's easier to do during the weekend because there are only two other people listening to you, but during the week there's the entire ward, a lot of people are listening and I'm so stressed. I usually go around the ICU before everyone arrives and go through the rounds in my head just so I know what to say with each patient...

I have the best coworkers 😭😭

Now I also have a week off work so... This was a very nice start :')

[k00299539]

Animation Brief 01 - Week 1 - Mini Me

Above: Femto of the God Hand

The next step in our "Word Building" project was to design and create a "mini-me", essentially a kind of avatar of ourselves which will then be used as a basis for learning about lip-syncing in animation. I knew two things immediately: 1. I shouldn't make the it out of clay because it's a time-conscious medium and thus problematic for such a short project. And 2. I was definitely gonna make it out of clay anyway.

But first I had to decide how I wanted to represent myself in miniature and as you can undoubtedly see from the above image, it got weird. The important thing to understand here is that I hate self-portraits, and over the course of the last two projects I'd somehow already made 12! One clay sculpture, two 3D prints, nine ceramic casts, (and a partridge in a pear tree, etc.)

So needless to say I wanted to do something different. I guess I'd say I wanted to represent my reluctance to make a self-portrait, something that would represent me in a more abstract, less literal way. Plus I wanted something that would seem at home with the Tove Jansson inspired background art I was making for the project. The next step was gathering reference.

Above: The inspiration

I actually hadn't put too much thought into the mini-me 'til I showed up on Thursday morning. I'm showing this whole moodboard of visual reference now but while sketching out this idea all that information remained locked in my head.

The second pic of Gorillaz drummer Russel Hobbs, wearing a rain-poncho with a witch-like hood is forever burned into my head for some reason, I just love designs like that. Thus that pic was my mental jumping off point. I also just like Russel's character in general and his particular trait of hiding his face.

It was after sketching it out and trying to figure out how a hood like that might work in 3D that I turned my attention toward Raven from the 2003 Teen Titans series, another character I'm fond of for similar reasons. Glen Murakami's character sheets include a full turnaround and the show itself has plenty of reference for the hood at odd angles. I also love the way her face is cast in constant shadow.

The last bit of reference is the Tove Jansson inspiration. I love how she drew Snufkin as such a disheveled little weirdo. I guess at this stage it's obvious I relate to introverted characters. What I took in particular from Snufkin was Jansson's ability to capture so much character and personality using simple shape design. You really get the sense there is a soul behind those eyes.

Above: The design

Yeah... I really didn't experiment much with the design at all. If I'm being generous I could say I knew what I wanted, but really I just knew I was on a timer. You can see a couple of alternate ideas I had in the third sketch, but the whole witches hood plus obscured face combo was important to me.

Actually I started to get a little worried around this point. First that an all black face might look like, well, blackface. And second, that if left white, the pointed hood might have a KKK connotation. Sometimes with art, intention matters less than reception. A lot of online racists hide behind the idea of "plausible deniability", with work that acts as a dog whistle for those with similar ugly beliefs. I really don't want anyone to think there's a bigoted undertone to anything I make.

Thankfully that problems lies mostly in how I choose to colour the piece, so I can cross that bridge when I come to it. Honestly had it crossed my mind earlier I might have gone back to the drawing board entirely, but we're here now and I can only make the best of what I have.

I don't know, even having written all that, I'm still conflicted over it.

Above: I should've taken more progress pics...

I was basically just stalling on the design part, I knew the gist of what wanted but I didn't have particularly good plans on turning that design in a clay sculpture. I actually started to contemplate just going home that Thursday to put a model sheet together and then come in again Friday.

Obviously this was a bad idea for a lot of reasons and eventually Gemma convinced me to leave aside the planning and just start working with clay. Probably the best advice I could've gotten.

I rolled out a couple of slabs and after leaving them to firm up a bit, I used a template to roll one into a cylinder. This would serve as my base. Gemma helped me out a bit here too, suggesting how I create the shoulders by attaching a slab as support and draping another over it. After that it was mostly just scoring and slipping, creating the silhouette bit by bit with slabs. I wanted to have it mostly done as I knew it'd need to be fired on Friday. And on Friday the kiln is loaded at 12:30.

Above: 12:30 on a Friday

Anyway, I got it done as much as I could before leaving it down to be fired. I would probably have spent more time on it had I not been under pressure, but being honest I'm the kind of artist who spends 90% of their time trying to make things 1% better. I doubt it'd have made much of a difference.

What probably would've made a difference was having more of a plan before I started. It was really one of those things you have to do poorly once to learn how to do right, if that makes sense. There's certain changes that occurred en-route I'm happy with, like the kid of abstract, geometric look to the whole thing. But other changes I feel could be improved upon include the overall size and shape of the hood and especially the length of the head in general. The hood is tall and top heavy when it really should be the opposite.

Overall though I'm happy with how it turned out ... as long as it doesn't explode in the kiln.

[bugcatcherwill]

can we have some writing tips, like how are you able to update the RATC fanfic every saturday? with job and etc. in the mix?

Oh boy, do I! So this is general writing tips, but also a window into my process so this might not work for others as well.

Basically I have a loose weekly schedule. I try not to stick to something more rigid because I know who sets the guidelines (me) and that person is full of shit.

The weekly schedule goes a bit like this: Early in the week, come up with what events I want to write for this current chapter and start drafting the general layout. Middle of the week is where the bulk of the writing happens. And then the Fridays are usually reserved for editing and touchups. Basically I try to have it all written or mostly written by Thursday so I don't force myself to scramble together that week's chapter. Saturday morning, I give it another few read-throughs for last minute editing and post it to AO3 in the afternoon.

What's important is that you make the most of your time while not-writing. They say 10% of a writer's job is actually writing and 90% of it is thinking about writing - and that couldn't be more correct. The amount of plot hooks that just...came to me while driving or in the shower is too many to count. And being away from that monolithic, sterile Google Doc REALLY helps clear your mind. Basically before I sit down and start my chapter, I make sure I have a gameplan of what I want to write first, so I'm not just floundering when I actually have some free time to write.

A big tip I have is find out what's the best way to write for your current schedule/comfort zone. Most of my writing I do on my phone. Seriously. I'm one of those freaks lmao. But I found out it's so much easier to avoid distractions of Youtube, Discord, Social Media, when all I have is my phone screen in front of me and I have to actually switch apps to distract myself. It also lets me do a bit of writing when there's a lull at my job, or when I'm on the exercise bike at my house.

So, yeah, a big part of what allows me to make these weekly updates is that time management, but also I've pretty much blocked so much of my story either in my head or in a Google Doc that writing it out thankfully doesn't feel like a chore :)

Also another tip: as much as you might hate outlines, you're probably gonna have to make an outline at some point. I, for one, HATE outlines. But I found a way to make my outlines a lot less unbearable.

What you do, is you don't write out your entire story's plan from the get-go. Because doing so makes it a LOT harder to squeeze in some plot point that you just came up with in the shower and you REALLY wanna put in there, but the outline says you can't. Outlines are like post-its. They're a good reminder, but you shouldn't be afraid of ripping them off the wall when you no longer need them - because that's what they're meant for.

I actually have two outlines that I use: the macro-outline and the micro-outline. The Macro-outline is basically just a bullet-point list of the major story beats I plan to have. Nothing too structured, nothing too complex, just a list of the big events and plot hooks. Then the micro-outline only goes over the next 2-3 chapters. It allows me to block out the actual chapters before I write them, and lets me look at the general story of those snippets and go "is that what I want to do?"

This, I feel, gives me a lot more flexibility in the story. Since if I come up with a plot hook I'd like to add, I can add that into the Macro-outline list, and then think about where I want to place that in the general timeline of events.

This is a bit of a wall of text, but I hope this helps! :D

[therubberotter]

It's been a very windy and stormy week, and the storm has been inside me, too.

The week started off well. It's exam week at work. All the kids are doing mock exams to get them used to the official thing.

I had been trying to be organised and not to let the workload pile up in front of me! And I was somehow managing to do it...until another flare up got the best of me!

I think that's part of the reason why I had been feeling so uneasy. By Thursday I was bent with pain. On top of that, I couldn't stop throwing up.

Thankfully, in my hospital Crohn's patients have an on-call nurse. So I phoned them and the lady that answered was a star! She listened to me, made me list my symptoms and asked me lots of questions. After that, she told me that I could see my doctor the very next day if I was still feeling poorly by then. And so I did!

They prescribed new corticoids (hello budesonide!) and gave me papers for a blood and stool test. They were so nice, patient and non-judgemental of how I was feeling! I always struggle with feeling insecure or like I'm exaggerating, so it's very reassuring to feel heard. We'll see how it goes now!

[jogetschatty]

I Am An Ironman (IM Chattanooga Race Recap)

Well, y'all - Ironman Chattanooga surpassed my wildest hopes and dreams.

I'm honestly still in disbelief. Not just that I accomplished this dream, but about the day I had on Sunday. When I crossed the finish line, I couldn't stop saying "I had the perfect day." I never went to that dark place everyone talks about. There was never a moment I questioned my ability to finish.

Monday brought perhaps an even bigger surprise, but I'll save that as an incentive to make it through this very long post (Hint: it involves a big island).

Anyway, let's start from the beginning.

We arrived in Chattanooga late Thursday night with two bikes, a car full of gear and a whole lot of race nerves. Thankfully, we had a lot to do over the next couple days to distract us. After chatting with other athletes over breakfast in the hotel lobby (we stayed at the Hampton Inn downtown, just blocks from transition), we set out for a shakeout ride. We decided to drive the full bike course and ride a short stretch of it. It worked out perfectly that by parking at the Cedar Grove Community Center, riding down to see the sharp turn onto Hog Jowl first hand and heading back we got a 30 minute shakeout ride. I was nervous that the roads were pretty rough until you crossed into Georgia, but otherwise it was a beautiful course!

Next we headed to Ironman Village to check in. It really gets real when they put that bracelet on your list and assign you your race number (as an odd number loving gal, I had a good feeling when I was assigned 1155!). I also started to feel the pressure - I knew if I didn't finish the race, I'd never want to look at all the great swag! Next we headed to Cashew for a quick vegan lunch, drove the run course (oh man, those hills looked even harder than I'd imagined!) and rested up before the undie run.

The Undie Run is a longtime Ironman tradition, meant to shake out the muscles and ease the nerves - and I have to say, it worked! About 50 of us gathered in undies of all sorts - from lingerie to tighty whities, costumes and beyond - to be a bit silly and run through town with our tushies hanging out. We ran about four miles, and after a week of tapering - it felt great! By the time we were done, our support crew was in town! We enjoyed dinner at Proof Bar & Incubator and settled in for an early night. I slept remarkably well!

By morning, the race day forecast had shifted quite a bit. Instead of showers in the afternoon, it was calling for rain throughout the entire bike ride. I was already nervous about the 116 mile ride, and this really spiked my anxiety - I'm scared to bike in hard rain, and was worried about being cold. But we set about our day, starting with a practice swim at the Chickamauga Dam (one lap in a wetsuit, one in a swim skin since we weren't sure whether it would be wetsuit legal). From there, we packed up our gear bags and checked our bikes into transition (in the wrong spot! thankfully an amazing volunteer moved them and reached out to let us know). I found someone to put my hair into battle braids a la the great Lucy Charles, and made sure my nails matched my bike (#priorities)!

We took a bit of downtime before heading to the parents' Airbnb for a very early dinner (we landed on these BBQ tofu bowls!) and were in bed by 8pm. Again, I slept remarkably well until about 3am! At 4am I checked my phone - wetsuit legal! Our alarm went off at 4:30am, and I was remarkably calm (despite a forecast that now called for "gusty winds and small hail") as we set about our race morning routine. We ate breakfast (an English muffin with sunflower butter, jelly, half a banana and a mini blueberry muffin, plus a bottle with electrolytes). We got dressed, had a good poop (this is important!), packed our morning clothes bag, and were making our way to transition by 5:15. From there, things were a bit hectic as we had to circle a few times from bike to bike gear bag to run gear bag, but we'd left ourselves plenty of time and with nothing else to do, we were on the bus to swim start shortly after 6am. When I saw Kipchoge had broken the marathon world record in Berlin, I took it as a good omen - it was going to be a great day to race!

/\ Swim start!

We had almost TOO much time at swim start, and the nerves started to creep back in! We chatted with other athletes in the porta potty line, ate some gel blocks, drank water, brushed our teeth and finally it was time to line up. We checked in our morning clothes bags, said goodbye to our phones and self seeded in the 1:10-1:20 swim time (faster than I usually swim, but what I anticipated with the current). When Courtney said he was going to stay with me and get in the water, I let out a sigh of relief.

Finally it was 7:30. The anthem was sang, the cannon went off and we made our way toward the water. I told Courtney I loved him, to "be safe, race smart and have fun," gave him a kiss and said I'd see him at the finish line - and we jumped in the water.

From there, my nerves vanished. You couldn't wipe the smile off my face the rest of the day (seriously, people kept commenting on it!)

The 2.4 mile Swim: The water felt perfect. My stroke felt natural. I was calm and doing what I came here to do. I kept thinking to myself, "this swim is beautiful!" I felt like I was all over the river, but I had plenty of room and when I need to, took a few seconds to get out of the way of other swimmers and find my own path. I couldn't really tell how fast the current was moving, but soon I could see the bridges - and after swimming under the third, I could see the final buoy marking the swim out. I couldn't believe it when I looked down at my watch and say 56:10 minutes!

T1: Volunteers helped us up the stairs, and at swim exit I saw my brother in law Nate followed shortly by my father in law Mike! I put my hands up and waved, and ran on to where the strippers helped remove my wetsuit, got handed my bike bag and ran into the changing tent. It all felt like a blur! Since it felt pretty warm, I'd decided not to put on the throwaway long sleeve shirt I brought along, so I just dried my feet, put on my cycling shoes and helmet, applied chamois butter and sunscreen, shoved my wetsuit and goggles in the bag, took a puff of my inhaler, ate half my Maurten bar and grabbed my bike. 8:11 minutes.

The 116 mile Bike: This was hands down the part I was most nervous about. It was far and away the longest part of the day, the only section of the race I'd never done the full distance of before, and the part of the day that felt like SO much could go wrong (bike crashes, mechanicals, getting hit by a car). But I didn't take time to think about that - I just hopped on my bike and went. I was a little bit concerned when I looked down and saw my heart rate was at 141, but we were going up a slight incline and I knew I had a ton of adrenaline pumping from running out of the water and then running with my bike. I took deep breaths and calmed myself down.

I took the road out of town easy, to warm up and also because it's by far the roughest part of the course with potholes and train tracks and everything in between. There was an audible cheer around mile 5 when we crossed over from Tennessee to Georgia and the road quality immediately improved! It had started to rain, but it wasn't coming down very hard and I could see sunshine ahead. At that point I looked down and realized I was moving upwards of 20 mph, way faster than planned, but it felt effortless with the wind at our backs so I figured it would balance out once we hit the hills.

Before I knew it, I was at the start of the loop! I hit mile 16 and thought to myself "just a century left, you've done that before! The course was pretty crowded at this point, and it was hard to maintain 6 feet and also keep up speed. Since I had a full bottle of Maurten's 320 I was sipping on, and water in my aero bottle, I skipped the first aid station.

At some point around mile 20 it started to rain pretty hard. I said silently to myself, "you're okay, you've done this before, just keep biking, you're okay." And that's when I realized I actually really was okay. I biked cautiously and defensively and taking it easy on my descents. I saw quite a few cyclists crash into each other when one person slowed going up hill, so I kept my distance. I was soaking wet, but just above the line of uncomfortably cold. The rain subsided, and I actually found myself passing a lot of riders.

By aid station two, I'd finished my bottle. It was situated on the way up a hill, which made stopping annoying, but I decided it was still my safest bet. I pulled to the side and yelled for water, filled up my bottle with Untapped Mapleaid lemon tea, and had a little snack. While I was doing that, I saw two unsuccessful bottle hand offs and actually had to yell to warn a rider of a bottle, and stopped a teenage volunteer from running out RIGHT in front of a cyclist to get it, which definitely validated my decision to stop for a minute or two rather than get caught up in that chaos.

Soon I was taking the sharp turn onto Hog Jowl Rd. no problem, and heading to Chickamauga. Just as I'd started to get dry, it started raining on us again - but the road on the back side of the loop is a smooth, gorgeous descent. I realized, somewhat surprised, that I was actually enjoying the ride! I stopped again around mile 50, at special needs, and gobbled down an Uncrustable, took a gulp of the electrolyte drink I'd put on ice in case it was hot and poured the rest into my aero bottle. I realized I'd taken *no* salt pills, so I also popped one of those. On the way out I had a quick snafu where the lid to my aero bottle flew off and I had to turn around and get it, but I knew it would be worth it with 60+ miles left to go.

/\ Probably laughing because it was only after thinking a cyclist was peeing on my that I realized *everyone* had a stream of water shooting out from behind their bike.

On the steep, wet descent out of Chickamauga I saw the scariest thing I saw all day. Out of the corner of my eye, something bright in the ditch caught my eye, which I soon realized was a bike. It took my brain a second to register that there was someone lying next to it, unconscious. I briefly considered trying to turn back, but realized I'd very likely cause a bike pile-up with many cyclists coming around a corner and down a hill behind me, so I yelled to the first spectators I saw to please call medical right away - and realized they were already doing so. I realized I was shaking both at what I'd seen and whether I'd done the right thing, but I felt better when very soon after I saw the ambulance on the way.

I expected I'd be seeing my family soon, at the turnaround, and sure enough - there was my mom yelling and pumping her arms in the air! I gave them a big smile and thumbs up because I had a feeling they might be worried how I was holding up in the pouring rain and I wanted them to know I was actually doing okay. Then I was onto my second loop!

I will say, on the second loop there were hills I didn't remember - probably because they hadn't felt like hills the first time around! But despite being pruney from being wet for 5+ hours, I was still feeling good (though laughing at the thought I still had to do a marathon) and keeping in mind what a fellow triathlete told me a few weeks ago - if you feel any emotions on the bike - tired, hungry, angry, sad - eat or drink something. I also have to say - from spectators to volunteers to other riders, I got SO many call outs for my unicorn helmet, and it really kept my morale high! On my second loop, folks recognized me and were even yelling, "the unicorn is back!"

It wasn't until around mile 100 that I really started wanting off the bike - and honestly, it wasn't because I was tired or uncomfortable (miraculously, my shoulder and neck gave me no trouble - despite a lot of pain in training), but because I'd come so far feeling so GOOD and really wanted to get off the bike without any issues - I'd seen SO many mechanicals along the way, and didn't want to be one of them! As I turned back onto the highway toward home, the sun had come out and I realized I had a dull headache so I made a point to get some electrolytes in my body right away (I actually gnawed on a package of watermelon Nuun, because I couldn't get it in my water bottle), and immediately the headache started to subside.

As I made the final trip into town, I realized I was approaching my family's Airbnb and soon saw them in the front yard - including my brother who had flown in to surprise me! What a boost to get me through that final stretch home (when you hit 112 that would be the end of a regular Ironman, it hits you!) Soon I was rolling back into transition. I couldn't believe it - I made it through the bike and it was only 3:30pm, and when I signed up this race, I was genuinely nervous about making the 6:10pm bike cut off. Total time, 6:37:56.

Nutrition: 2 Maurten bars, 1 Uncrustable, 1 bottle Maurten 320, 2 Maurten gels (1 caffeinated, 1 uncaffeinated), 1 chocolate cherry caffeinated Clif gel, 1 Untapped waffle, 1 pack Untapped Mapleaid lemon tea, part of a bottle of Body Armor electrolyte drink and a few gel blocks, 3 salt pills, 4 mostly preventative painkillers.

T2: It was with huge joy and relief when I handed my bike to the catcher, but I was surprised that I actually didn't have the "and I never want to see you again, bike!" feeling that I'd had on some long rides. From there, I a volunteer handed me my run bag and I headed into the changing tent. Another AMAZING volunteer proceeded to unpack my bag, get me sunscreen, and help me when I was dropping things all over the place. This is also where I saw the most BADASS thing of the day - a fellow athlete BREAST PUMPING between the bike and run. Women are fucking magical beasts. I said goodbye to my unicorn helmet, popped on my cap and bib belt, took another puff on the inhaler and took a quick stop in the porta john - despite the rain, I'd had a really hard time peeing on the bike! 7:20 minutes

The 26.2 Run: I set out on the run feeling strong. It was hot, but I felt good and still had my legs. I was feeling pretty confident at this point about my prospects of finishing, with more than 8 hours to complete the marathon. I headed up the hill to the highway, where the first 4 miles of the course is in pretty much direct sunlight. Everyone was telling me I looked strong, and I felt it too.

I stuck with my plan to walk the aid stations. My primary concern at this point was keeping my body temperature low and maintain a heartrate under 140. When I hit the first aid station, I put ice down the front and back of my kit and on my head, splashed cold water on my face and drank some Gatorade Endurance and water. This would be my routine at pretty much every aid station until the sun went down! I was surprised that the miles were kind of just ticking away, and even with my stops I was maintaining a 10 minute mile or below.

The turn onto the Riverwalk - the only portion of the course I'd not seen - brought some relief from the sun. I was a little bit farty from everything that had gone into my body, but I still felt good. I walked the steep hill up Battery Place and was excited to see my family soon. Sure enough, there they were as I turned onto Veterans Bridge! I gave them all huge hugs, and let them I was sticking with my plan to walk the hills and aid stations, so they wouldn't worry if my next splits were slower.

And with that, I was off to Big Bad Barton and the dreaded hills on the backside of the course! To be honest, at this point I was kind of excited that they'd give me an excuse to walk.

Now let me tell you - people DREAD Barton. It's .4 four miles long, and you have to run it four times (two each direction) - but it's actually sort of fun, because it's a giant party. There's an aid station about halfway up it on the way out, and since my heart rate was low and I felt good, I decided to run to that and walk the rest of the way. I did the same on the hill by the golf course, took a quick and not very productive porta potty break around mile 11, and headed back toward the pedestrian bridge. As you cross it, you can hear people being called into the finish line. Throughout the bike and run, every time I saw the mile marker for the second loop while on the first, I'd been thinking to myself "you'll be SO happy to see that next time!" - but never more than here. And I knew my moment was coming.

At the halfway point, I stopped at special needs for a quick bite of pickle and grabbed my socks and a waffle in hopes I could hand it off to a family member (guys, Feetures are expensive!) But when I dropped them less than a mile later, I sacrificed another $18 to the triathlon gods. I was headed back out to the lonely, exposed highway stretch - and I remembered what my mom told me that morning: even if you're lonely out there, remember I'm with you. And I thought about her proud face and arms in the air when I'd seen her last.

People were still telling me I looked strong, but around mile 15 I started to feel a little light headed. My heart rate was still nice and low, so I had a feeling it was the start of a salt bonk. I decided to play it cautious. I'd had a great day so far, and by that point, I had all the time in the world - something like 6 hours to finish a half marathon. I sure as hell wasn't going to risk passing out and being taken off the course. So I walked a little bit, doubled up on my salt pills (I'd only taken 5 all day, at that point), and because I knew my stomach couldn't handle pretzels or chips - I put them in my mouth, sucked on them and spit them out (gross, I know, but it works!) By the time I was turning back onto the Riverwalk the day was cooling off and the shade offered even more respite. I didn't feel 100% back to normal, but it was getting better not worse, so I continued mostly running with a few extra walk breaks, using mile markers and minute markers to motivate myself.

/\ Still all smiles on the second loop, around mile 19.

I was excited to see my brother again at the bottom of the Battery Place. hill! We walked up it together as I grabbed some nutrition, and he told me I looked happier than anyone else he saw on the course. I told him I felt good, and it was true. By that point, I had absolutely no doubt I had another 10k in me. I gave him a big hug, told him I'd see him at the finish line, and headed back toward Barton.

At the aid station on Barton I had my first taste of liquid gold! I squealed when someone handed me the infamous chicken broth - offered at Ironman after dusk. I took a couple sips to test it out on the stomach and dang, that hit the spot. I definitely walked more of the second loop, though I was making a concerted effort to break a 5 hour marathon. Honestly, could I have pushed harder on the run? Absolutely! But it was much more fun to save some energy to dance to the music on Barton (it's a straight up party after dark! Though alas, no one heeded my request to play Hungry Eyes!), get my booty whipped by the sexy costumed ladies in the Girl Zone, thank and joke around with the volunteers at the aid stations and give out high fives left and right. And I wouldn't trade that experience for a few minutes off my time.

Before I knew it, I was back on the bridge and I could hear Tony on the microphone. Rounding that corner was incredibly emotional, as everyone had changed their tune from "you can do it" to "you did it!" and I knew that I had. The tunnel is long in Chattanooga, and try as I might to take it in, it went by way too fast! I did get to see and wave to my family, and had the wherewithal to back pedal so I wouldn't cross the finish line with the jerk from a relay team who sprinted past me at the last second (seriously dude, I hope I'm in all your photos).

/\ Serious glare right there.

As I crossed the finish line, I heard the words I've been waiting to hear since I signed up in May (and really, for much, much longer than that): "Johanna Elsemore, you are an Ironman. 4:48:33

Finish Line: I came through the finish line, and there was Courtney, face glowing with pride as he put my medal around my neck (he signed up on the spot to volunteer to give out medals (smart man right there!) I told him I'd had an absolutely perfect day, and he told me I'd crushed it. It was only then that I thought to ask what my time was - and I was flabbergasted when he told me I'd handily beat 13 hours, coming in with a final time of 12:38:08.

Going into the race, I had said that if everything went perfectly, I'd come in between 13-13.5 hours. I expected at time closer to 14 hours. I completed an Ironman in far less than double the time for my 70.3 in May, which really shows how much training I put in over the summer.

/\ THE BEST support crew!

After getting our bikes and gear bags back to the hotel, changing clothes, seeing off the family and getting Courtney stable (he was in pretty rough shape) we headed back to the finish line. It was the finish line of Ironman Maryland last year that inspired me to sign up for this. There truly is no party like an Ironman finish line party. And in true Courtney and Jo fashion, we closed down the bar - staying to welcome every last finisher home.

Quick selfie with Tony, who I thanked for being the only one ever to pronounce my name right at a major life moment (wrong at my graduation, wrong at my wedding), and for calling me home for my first Ironman.

I have so much gratitude. For the support of friends and family throughout training and in the lead up and aftermath of this race. For my family who came all the way to Chattanooga to watch me achieve this dream - they literally always show up. For my health, and the fact that I could even get to the start line. And most of all for my amazing partner, who trained with me even when it wasn't his preferred pace or distance, and hands down believed in me at least three times as much as I did.

I also have so much pride. I'm proud of how well I know my body, to be able to pace myself and finish with a strong time for a first timer, but also finish with a smile and the energy to keep on dancing. I'm proud of the discipline and hard work it took to get here, but perhaps more so of how I managed to maintain balance in my life - to continue to show up for birthdays and weddings and dinners, travel, and never stop playing as hard as I worked.

Now, the even bigger surprise I mentioned.

I'M GOING TO FUCKING KONA! I'm still in disbelief.

I swore before the race, after the race, the morning after the race morning that I was one and done. But then we went to the awards breakfast and roll down… and my 25th place finish was enough to qualify me for one of the Women in Tri slots (Chattanooga was allotted 100 extra this year, with 16 going to my age group - and 6 people didn't show up to take it - so I got the last slot for my age group).

Moral of the story, in life and in Ironman, you gotta show up to get the prize. This wasn’t even close to being on my radar when I signed up. I just wanted to finish happy and healthy. So, while usually I’m a woman of my word… you don’t turn down Kona. For an athlete of my caliber, this is the opportunity of a lifetime.

[steamishot]

late april

last thursday and friday marked the last job interviews that matt will have before we move back. the interviews were thankfully one hour long each, and they gave a specific timeline on when he can expect to hear back. one is by the end of this week, the other is by end of next week, and last is within 20 days. this is such a good contrast to some other interviews that were 4-6 hours long and basically ghosted him afterwards.

i think the timing of everything works out pretty well, where we can make a final decision once any additional offers are received. if no other offers come up, we plan on going with west la by default. this marks 9 interviews total in 2024, 11 interviews total in 2023, to make 20 total interviews before an offer is accepted. i felt like matt was michael jordan, and i was michael jordan's mom/advisor in this job search. this process was very exhausting for the both of us. since the last year or so was dedicated to job searching, it's going to feel (good) weird that his subsequent off weeks are really off now?!

as mentioned before, we have become pretty emotionally disconnected and burnt out. it's been feeling like a lot like all work, no (little) play makes us dull boys. it's been trying to get through the work week, and then prepping for interviews, then debriefing the interview. rinse and repeat. hopefully the sacrifices are worth it and everything will be on the up and up.

matt will be giving his 120 days notice this friday, so that his last work date will be in late aug. shit is feeling real now. although there is still uncertainty, i feel a little relieved that the ball is at least rolling forward and i feel some stress trickling away. in hindsight, i suppose waiting an additional half year to get a job in LA versus accepting the redlands one was a good call.

it also worked out quite perfectly that the job search thing lined up with R&T's time here. if we had accepted an offer earlier on, we wouldn't have had the opportunity to make east coast memories together. they were there for me exactly when things started to get tough emotionally and will stick around until our move back. now that people's schedules are all over the place (matt's week on/off, T's super commuting), it's a little difficult to plan a trip, but we're aiming to go to acadia national park together in the coming months.

other events:

i've been going to a new yoga studio as well as tangerine. this new one is not heated, but the classes are longer and the cost is cheaper! instead of doing the unlimited yoga membership, i upgraded my classpass to pay about $136/mo bc YOLO. it's essential in helping me feel stabilized by doing the practice and also by having a community

we supported I in his new coffee shop opening in the UES!

R&T took us on a friend date: picnic with bagels and bike riding around central park, basketball, thai food and board games

work has been quite busy and all over the place as usual - i'm trying to manage it as best as i can. they have not hired anyone yet for my old position and i'm still doing the work for it.

matt got invited to a former co-resident's wedding in aug. it'll be hosted in boston. i'm a little intimidated because this will be my first (rich) white people wedding lol

watched ramit sethi live with R. although some parts were a little boring as he interviewed the couples (as i usually listen to his podcast while doing some other task), the best part of the show was the end where he interacted with the audience. so many people were grateful for him that he created this open space community and i too was fangirling.

edit: i was out in cobble hill today and a young white guy passing by (if i heard correctly) said "you're beautiful". i was 80% sure because i had my airpods on and was in the middle of a text. compliment by NYC strangers instance #5

[purplesurveys]

1853

Do you like coffee? Yes. Need it everyday. No coffee no braincells no work done hahah.

Do your eyes ever twitch? They don't.

Do you get excited when you get something in the mail that isn’t a bill? Of course it's exciting when stuff I order arrives. But it also depends, because I'm not always buying things and sometimes I'm just receiving stuff for my parents or sister haha.

What was the last thing you wrote by hand? Just my signature for when I picked up the book I pre-ordered from the local bookstore.

Why did you last feel exhausted? Tuesday last week. The Sunday before that I had 10 AM-6 PM event, immediately the following day I had a 5 PM-1 AM event...by Tuesday I was beat and felt a fever coming in. Thankfully it didn't last long and I powered through the rest of the week like a motherfucker.

Have you ever used emotional blackmail to get your own way? Sure.

Has anybody ever used emotional blackmail on you? Sure.

Assuming you have any, is your hair soft today? No.

Who did you last worry about and why? The dogs, because of the weather. I'm constantly worrying they might get heat stroke so now I always give them ice cubes and have the living room aircon turned on, even if it's only them downstairs.

When are you next at work? If you mean at the office, Thursday.

Do you enjoy your work? It's a lot more tolerable ever since I was able to negotiate to be set free from the one account that was serving as mental torment for me. I dare say I'm a lot happier now that it's gone from my professional life.

Are you currently looking for a new place to live? Not really. I'm weighing options and hearing out opinions here and there, but given that I have no urgent need to have my own place yet, I haven't reached a point where I've done ocular visits.

When was the last time you ate/drank something gross just to be polite? Can't remember. I'd eat everything except for fruits lol.

Can you see any toys from where you’re sat? I have a massive Koya stuffed toy right in front of me - it was a gift from my sister for my birthday.

Last time you heard a growl, who or what did it come from? A couple of hours ago, from Cooper. He always lets out these playful growls whenever we play catch since he's always so impatient to get the damn toy in his mouth haha.

Does it bother you when you forget something that you should know? Sure.

What was the last thing you put off doing? Proofreading a script a teammate wrote. She did say she doesn't need feedback til tomorrow afternoon, but given that I like to do things as quickly as possible I'd still count it as being put off.

When did you last make up a baby’s bottle? Never.

What was the last thing you cooked? Idk the last thing I cooked but the last thing I ordered was a box of donuts and toasted siopao.

Do you eat your dinner at a dining table, coffee table or just off your lap? It varies. I'd eat anywhere at home.

When did you last see the sea? Last month when we visited Leah's beachside house for a team outing.

Which would you prefer as a view; mountains or the sea? Sea.

Do you have a mouse for your laptop? (Assuming you have a laptop) Nope.

Do you apologise a lot? Sure, especially at work.

Do you have any framed black & white photos in your home? Who are they of? No, they're all colored.

[lifewithoutmeds]

February 26, 2024

feeling better, in general, about things, thankfully.

quick ... month's recap: Monday, February 5th: went to visit caroline in the hospital. also met up with grace, her husband, and patrick. grace brought delicious burritos from sonoratown and we chatted with caroline as if things were normal despite the fact that she had had a seizure, was hospitalized, and more recently, we learned that she had a large brain tumor that would likely need removing. i teared up seeing her in the hospital bed, in the hospital gown, but i eventually was able to stop. Tuesday, February 6th: Lorena swung by on the way to work and we chatted and caught up a bit. Later that day i went to a 6:30 showing of Poor Things at the local theater which i didn't love, but am still glad i saw, just to see. Wednesday, February 7th: In the office. It says ... lunch with Lana. what did we eat? Hmm, strangely no idea.

Friday, February 9th: Doctor's appointment, dinner with Lana, as she swung by with fish king poke and salads and we ate a nice healthy protein-filled dinner. then we ubered to Hot Goss in ... Cypress? and we watched Sophie Santos again and some other queer or allied stand up comedians, and it was great. i a bit avoided sophie as i had recently learned that she was in a serious relationship with a very reputable and older director, and so i wanted to stay out of the way, out of respect.

Saturday, February 10th: Matt K came over with some e-waste and we dropped it off in sunland, then went to Barcade to meet up with his friends, and then i rushed home to sprint out again for a speed dating event downtown. traffic and parking was horrible, but i met up with steph, met some nice people, and then we kinda went to town, eating at sushi gen, and then winding up at Eighty-Two, drinking too much, and making a new friend, who in retrospect I don't think i care to keep in touch with. Sunday, February 11th: No church as I was just too tired to do anything. Probably did nothing the whole day and regretted how a few hours of fun at night did not equate the entire waste of the subsequent day. Monday, February 12th: worked from home, then went to CVS to pick up photos of Rafa for grace's surprise visit. Wednesday, February 14th: In office.

Thursday, February 15th to Tuesday, February 20th: a whirlwind of airbnb's, hotels, meeting up with grace, her family, and her friends, antoinette, her family, and her friends. lugging a heavy duffel bag everywhere, taking endless subways and buses, taking my heavy jacket on and off, sweating, then shivering. there was some fun, but more crying, which i'm a bit too tired to get into at the moment and which i've rehashed enough to kind of be over talking about for now. i also watched three episodes of The Curse, and decided to watch it once i got home, even though it meant subscribing to the Paramount Plus channel. Wednesday, February 21st: In office Thursday, February 22nd: Dr. Sobhani appointment at lunch and Kelda afterwork. Dr. Sobhani was rather pleased at my progress so we pushed our next appointment out further than usual. i also felt some progress with kelda and i was calmer than usual, which was nice.

Saturday, February 24th: Just slept, for hours and hours. i think my mom briefly came over with some bread/pastries, and i ate it, chatted a bit, then went back to sleep. i felt a bit bad that i wasn't productive and didn't check off anything on my list, but i also felt that i really needed rest, and that my past week had been super draining and i kind of enjoyed just lounging about, knowing i had no real responsibilities, and zoning out to meaningless things on youtube.

sunday (yesterday), i didn't end up going to church, but a bit at the last minute, hung out with tracy, who is still reeling from the unexpected passing of her mom. she picked me up as i've been having car trouble, we went to Gap outlet in burbank so she could return something, meandered about the mall, did a brief hike nearby, and then got some sugarcane drinks and wandered a bit before she dropped me back off. it was weirdly ... like comfortable, and not stressful. it was ... easy. i think there are so few people i can be like that with. lana. maybe nida. and i guess her, which is weird because we've known each other for just under a year but somehow we're pretty similar and/or she's just so empathetic that she gets me regardless of how different we are. i also watched In the Mood for Love at the local theater at 7 and was struck by how much i still enjoyed it, and how it dragged less than i remembered, how effective the music was, and how gorgeous maggie leung was. new crush. although now she must be in her 50's or 60's.

today is monday, February 26th, and it's been a productive day of dishes, work, dropping my car off at the mechanic's, getting picked up by my mom, and treating her to pho. i just agreed to get dinner with Patti even though i subsequently remembered that i don't have a car, but I do have uber, so i'll just get driven over.

i'm feeling weirdly ... calm. is it the drugs? am i getting exhausted with the sadness? within a week the Sophie storm that had raged through me just as suddenly calmed down. this morning i took a brief walk in the morning as the sun rose, and i think even made my bed almost as soon as i woke up. i've been weighing myself daily and committing to losing a healthy and hopefully attainable 1 pound a week. i bought some apples and i ate one yesterday and one today. i'm trying to get in 1-2 servings of fruit/vegetables a day, and average 10,000 steps/day/week. i walked close to 20,000 steps yesterday, but today was significantly less, partly due to taking my car in during my lunch, and partly due to some random rain that prevented me from going after work.

but in general i feel more calm, less frenzied. i'm journaling, as can be seen, and i watched 1-2 episodes of The Curse each night until i finished it. i read a bit yesterday too and think that i might be able to finish this book by the end of the month, which would be fantastic as I started this in August or September and i've been having so much trouble reading, and just focusing on anything but my own misery in general.

although i'm almost always focused "on myself," i'm trying to just be mindful and intentional with how i spend my time, with my diet, my exercise. i'm trying to decrease screen time, see more shows, and experience things outside of my head, and outside of my condo. i've eaten at a bunch more restaurants and bars so far, so think i'm okay with that aspect, but am thinking now that instead of a bar/week, maybe i could switch it out occasionally with a coffee shop/weekend, and i'll sip some coffee and read a book for 30 minutes or so. and just be. that might be nice.

i'm also cleaning more, and noticing that there are things that could use a deeper cleaning. my flatware. the little dirt trapped around my windows that make it harder to open and close. my laptop. just finding little projects around the condo that make me feel mildly productive but also maddeningly dull.

and i'm remembering .... that i'm feeling more like a former version of myself, but one that i don't find so despicable. yes, i kind of just endlessly scroll for things i might like to buy at REI and random camping goods that once i purchase, i immediately forget, but i'm also enjoying movies again, i'm tracking things, which i weirdly like doing. i'm watching minimalism and frugal living videos instead of police body cameras. i also feel like i'm a bit funnier, a bit lighter, a bit more appreciative.

i'm hoping i'm on a bit of an upswing and this isn't just the minor blip before the inevitable fall. i want to be more disciplined, and feel like the central character in a story, in my story. i don't want to feel ashamed of the way i look, and want to be in a body that i'm proud of, and in clothes that i think flatter me. i want to make sure i get regular haircuts and massages and exercise and just ... all of the things. i want to feel and be healthier.

i think i'm doing a bit of a better job in trying to clean things up in my condo. i got rid of a few bags of e-waste, like jadai's old vacuum and my robot vacuum, some wires, batteries, etc., just things i've wanted to get rid of for a long time. i took some stuff over to goodwill, and to the animal shelter. there's a lot that i've left undone, that i just .... lost the motivation and lacked the wherewithal to address, but i can feel myself gradually starting to care again, noticing things that need repair and/or attention. like getting rid of the old line in my fishing rods, and giving them a rinse as they haven't been used since last june. steven t has been reaching out and updating me on his kids, and wanting me to spend more time with them. grace k's family apparently has lice right now, so can't be socialized with, but once they are, i'd like to see them too. i'm just .... feeling things other than negativity, which is such a relief.

[namuneulbo]

week one hundred and twenty

time for a longer entry for once... i think.

i only met l once this week because he was busy studying for his theory- and practical driving tests. bro, i got like makeout abstinence. one makeout sesh a day keeps the sadness away or something. god, i'm insufferable.

monday was a mess. i went thrifting to look for a cd shelf thingy but ended up with five cds instead. i got automatic by the jesus and mary chain for l and zenyatta mondatta and ghost in the machine by the police, faith by the cure and era vulgaris by queens of the stone age for me. i originally got a morrissey dvd too because it had a lot of the smiths songs on it but ended up not buying it BECAUSE... when i went to check out my stuff my card declined? i had money and my limit was high enough but it just wouldn't work. i tried taking away the morrissey dvd in case my limit actually was being pushed but that didn't work either. thankfully they were able to hold the stuff while i went to take out some cash. i did however call both my mom and my sister in distress.

i actually don't remember shit from tuesday.

i dyed my hair on wednesday! black! i also trimmed my bangs and i might've made them VERY short. i like microbangs though, like, that was what i was going for anyways but it's always just as big of shock each time i trim it. i usually trim it once it starts reaching my eyebrows. anyways, microbangs together with the black makes me feel so alt and cool. i mean, i AM alt, but still. i'm just now getting used to the new look but i've been told by three people now that i fit black very well which is a compliment i haven't gotten for any other color ever so...

i lost crazy much hair while dyeing it and washing it out though, it was almost scary. thought i was gonna end up bald.

in my second class on thursday i had my camera on and s dmed me in the zoom chat and told me my hair was pretty :( it made me so happy :( she asked me if i dyed it recently and then complimented it again TT she's always so sweet, love her!

on thursday i received two packages! one was my digital camera. i'm so excited to start bringing it everywhere and take cute y2k:ey pictures. the quality is just as shitty as i wanted it to be. the other package was a copy of turtles all the way down. i've only read two chapters so far but i'm so excited to read more, i love john's books so much. i'm so excited about having the english hard cover too. it's so pretty.

thursday evening i went to l's place. his parents were gone for the weekend so i expected to stay more than one night but ended up just sleeping there one night because he had plans with his friends friday evening. my way there was a mess, i took the wrong train and ended up two stations wrong. the train line splits in three after a few stations and i just realized the names of the stops started sounding unfamiliar. i got off and switched tracks and went one stop and after walking off at that stop i realized i was supposed to go another stop in the same direction before i was able to switch trains so i had to wait like 10 minutes for the next one and got on that one and then wait another 10 minutes to go on the right train.

at his place we listened to some music and exchanged cds. i gave him the the jesus and mary chain cd and he gave me röd by kent. i also brought some popcorn i had bought before being reminded of the fact that we don't have a microwave at home TT i also brought a vegan chocolate bar. it was white chocolate with rasperries and it sounded so good but i didn't really like it so i brought it for him to try but mainly for his younger sister who i thought would like it since she's allergic to milk and eats a lot of vegan stuff anyways. she ended up really liking it which i'm happy about. later we made dinner with her. i didn't really help but i'm like never allowed TT i try to offer help but they always say there's nothing i can do TT i feel so mean TT

after dinner me and l watched scott pilgrim vs. the world. it's way better the second time and it was so nice to just cuddle and stuff and i almost fell asleep by the end :') after the movie things got a little ;) though. very nice!

(still a virgin).

lowkey would wanna go into detail just for the memories for future old me who might have a sucky memory but i am also in fact posting on the worldwide web! maybe time for a physical and private journal?

i had to wait agessssss for him to wake up the day after. he sleeps for so long. it's funny because it's not very different from how long i sleep for but when i sleep at other places than home i always wake up so early with a full energy bar.

on my way home the train was fucking with me again. i literally got onto the right train but it went the wrong direction? like it literally arrived from the right direction but went back the same way? HOW?

saturday was nice. me and my sister went to the plant store and i got two plants for my room and a pot for the bigger one. i was gonna pick up a sellpy package on the way home anyways and i'd get a pot for the smaller one then anyways. on the way back home we accidentally went on such a detour. i actually have no idea how to use that word? just gooogled it. omväg. vi gick en omväg.

the sellpy package was exciting. the shorts fit really well and they were even low waisted!!! so exciting!!! i got four rings: a mustache ring, a black heart ring, a pink heart ring and a small ring with emerald colored dots. i got a dan and phil poster. such a relic. i'm currently trying to press it straight so it'll actually stay on the wall. i got the pots. it was two in one, a big one that i used as a holder for my brush pens and a small one for the tiny plant i bought and it ended up fitting perfectly. i also got a little cow decor thingy that's supposed to hang on the side of a pot and it looked so cute on the pot i got at the plant store. i also got a vase of a swan. i thought it would be way smaller than it was, like... i literally thought it was an egg cup which is why i got it so i could use it as a little cup for trinkets but it was MASSIVE. my sister wanted it though thankfully!

my cousin came over in the evening and we had dinner. my sisters boyfriend had made mashed potatoes and meatballs. that might be my favorite food of all time. with brown sauce and lingonberry jam and peas and fried onion, UGH, so good. afterwards we played cluedo and had some drinks and then we played our little question game we do where we write down silly or deep questions on a piece of paper and then just draw them and everyone answers. it's so simple yet so fun.

today has been really nice so far. i've been in a really good mood. i put up some leftover kpop prints on my wall. even though i don't care too much for it anymore, it's still fun with less empty walls and honestly, putting those prints up and listening to kpop reawakened something within me. it was so nostalgic and i mean... minhyuk is still a gorgeous man.

i'm on my second coffee right now and i've been writing this entry for so long now. my sister and her boyfriend went to town and they had dinner so now i'm contemplating what to eat. they had max and them mentioning that is making me really crave max so i think i'll probably order myself some max.

i've actually been thinking about doing diary stuff more in real life as well because i've been feeling so inspired by life is strange. like, i think the little profiles max makes of people is such a cute idea but getting pictures of people would be difficult. i'd wanna write about everyone! like, just making a really detailed page about anyone, like a classmate or siblings partner or whatever. it seems like so much fun. i'd need a polaroid camera though or a printer of some sort. i wanna get a polaroid camera anyways so might as well start doing that once i have it. i just need to get my bullet journal here, it's still back home and those are way too expensive to just be buying new ones all the time. it's also so empty. polaroid cameras are so expensive too, like buying film all the time too. so much pressure getting good pictures but that's also kind of the charm, you only get one, maybe two, tries.

sotw: kent - saker man ser