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lildoodlenoodle · 9 months

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First things first(spoilers for spiderverse/spidergeddon and comic noir storyline) this is a long post but you’ll have fun I promise. As always feel free to engage with the post, I’d love to hear different theories/opinions/conclusions on this in the tags or comments. Sorry it took so long!

Now I’m gonna say something morbid:

Spider Noir’s death in the comics was hilarious

Jarring, but hilarious. Like why’d he grab him like that. I physically had to shut off my iPad and go for a walk after this scene when I first read it.

But to my point, you know how some people say your birth mark is how you died in your last life?

Well post resurrection we might have A, B, and C:

(Now before anyone gets on me for, why would you do that/even think of this? In my defense, I couldn’t remember where he was grabbed, it’s been a while since I’ve read these. I thought it was gonna be on his back or shoulder and I’d give him a burned on handprint going all ‘gripped you tight and raised from perdition’ which is cool, fun, sexy, and conveniently hidden. Then I reread it and it’s basically a permanent face palm. Also pretend his face looks the same in every one. Couldn’t decide on hair either lol.)

Either way post resurrection Peter should have physical after effects of his resurrection. Either lines all over his body from having the life force sucked out of him or birth/burn marks on his face. I think this would be hilarious, angsty, and interesting. I also hate when people are just resurrected willynilly. LET THE TRAUMA OF DYING AND COMING BACK TAKE ITS TOLE. Especially if it’s multiple times.

In MK: Midnight Mission they, pretty recently, came up against this problem with the MK system being resurrected over and over again and facing really no visible consequences. But then we find out, there isn’t really a limit(ignoring the whole Khonshu imprisonment), but eventually mentally, there will be nothing left to resurrect. And the mindless mummy warrior creatures we meet from Khonshu’s ‘world’ were old avatars that wasted away from resurrections. It explains the alterations and perversions of the MK system’s mental conditions, because they are actively being altered and changed, to be brought back, by a multidimensional creature that doesn’t care about their mental health/state(that Khonshu takes advantage of, knowing what he’s doing). Sound familiar?

Now, time to get philosophical. Ship of Theseus.

What is it? Ship of Theseus is an ideological/philosophy problem about a king, Theseus, who saved the children of Athens from king Minos and the Minotaur and then sailed his ship to Delos. Then each year Athenians would sail that same ship from Athens to Delos in celebration of the myth. Over time they kept replacing parts of the ship for maintenance purposes, till every plank had been replaced, so they could still make the voyage. Now the question is, is it still the same ship? At what point did it stop becoming that original ship? And does it matter?

Applying this philosophical exercise to resurrection, with what we know above, we can get an interesting dialogue going. But, with that said, it’s important to keep in mind that the resurrection process in this context with these multidimensional gods isn’t explained with enough detail to really take it apart. Like what happens to the soul? Is the brain damage we know Marc has from repeatedly dying and his brain repeatedly going without oxygen or is it from just interacting with a multidimensional god? Is the spider god comparable to Khonshu? Is the spider god even real, if not what or how was Peter actually resurrected? And if it is real, what is its main goal? At least with Khonshu we know he has an agenda. What does it want, what’s its end game?

But let’s get into it anyways.

Now, you may be wondering, why do I keep saying multiple resurrections in regards to Spider noir? I am so glad you asked! I believe Peter's initial spider bite killed him. He had to go to the afterlife to actually see the spider god. That’s why we really only see them three times, at the initial power conception, Peter’s resurrection, and when Peter goes to the ‘underworld’ in the 2020 run. We see something similar with Khonshu in Midnight mission, while he’s in space jail, Marc can only see him during resurrections or while he’s dead. And while we’re comparing the MK system to spider noir, when Marc got his powers, he basically had to die first. That was implied to be his first resurrection. So this wouldn’t be a one off situation. We have some rules.

What we don’t see with Moonknight and Khonshu is visual physical change. Outside of the ghost bird skull armor the boys aren’t visually changing. Meanwhile, Peter has physically turned into a monster before and turned completely back. In #4/5 of the 2020 noir run the cicada stone/pink meteor turns people into monsters, but not everyone. Huma turns, Shocker turns, Peter turns, and all the resurrected villains(one guy just explodes). But Hu-Ri and Checkpoint Red don’t, until Hu-Ri touches the stone. Huma and Peter are both in close proximity to eldritch beings, them turning into inspired versions of those beings make sense. The Shocker turns because he spent so much time holding onto the stone, whereas Red hasn't. But notice Shocker and Hu-Ri don’t turn into an animal inspired version of themselves like Huma and Peter do, he becomes more of a hulk like creature, because he isn’t attached to an other-worldly being. And when Peter turned back he essentially said “that hurt like a bitch” and kept moving.

If we want to keep with the canon noir timeline and going with the idea that the Spider god is either continuously changing Peter, or just changing him during resurrections this would explain the webbing and mood/personality change from the 2009 comics to the 2020 comics. But that’s boring and too simple and I hate the time jump so fuck that shit.(again another post).

So let’s focus back on ‘Ship of Theseus’ in the context of resurrection. We have too many questions about the process of resurrection for spider noir to properly have this conversation, but I’m going to try anyways. Let’s hit what we know again: resurrection changes your brain chemistry/structure, the spider god is changing Peter throughout the series, Peter has possibly had three resurrections, the spider god resurrected Peter from a different dimension, which confirms this is a multidimensional being(if she exists but shhhh). So now that we’ve established that there are changes happening to Peter(one way or another) we know that the spider god is ‘repairing’ Peter throughout the series or ‘replacing his boards’ so to speak.

At what point is this no longer Peter? Is it when he is no longer recognizable as a human? Or is it when there is nothing left in his mind to resurrect? Or has this never been Peter, or rather not since his first resurrection when he got his powers? Is this change sudden or slow? Is it the resurrection that turns him into something else, is it slow build up like an Iodine Clock titration and one day he just wakes up no longer human, or is it a slow process of subtle changes? But if the latter, what’s the change that does it? What defines Peter’s humanity? Does it matter if he’s human or not? Does it change anything for him if he’s no longer human in body and mind?

Part of the answer may lie in the villains we see through the 2009 and 2020 runs. In the first run the main villains were the Goblin and the Vulture. Both who were implied to not be human or having physical inhuman qualities(but I’m partially ignoring the whole carney thing cause honestly it’s ableist and boring). In Eyes Without A Face, the second run, the main villains are the Crime Master and Dr. Octavious, both humans with no inhuman or supernatural qualities. For simplicity sake, let’s focus on Octavious and Goblin. In comparing the two I think most people would agree Octavious is the more heinous of the two. Goblin takes on the role of a mob boss. He runs a crime empire, exploiting the defenseless in New york. It’s nothing new and he’s even somewhat sympathetic ‘I’m finished with freakshows’, you can understand how he got where he is. This is not to say he isn’t a villain but he very much fits the ‘villain with a tragic backstory’. People look at him like he is a monster, we, the reader, start out the story knowing what he is.

Whereas Octavious is not even remotely sympathetic because there is no empathizing with how he ended up there and why he does what he does. He is not only othered by his actions but also by the narrative for his disability(it’s important to acknowledge the ableism in his story but that is another post). Ultimately his delusions and the acts he commits make him a much more sinister monster than Norman, despite Norman actually having stereotypical qualities of a monster.

Then we have Huma and Shocker from the 2020 run. Huma is the closest person we see who is in a similar situation to Peter in terms of the spider god. While we don’t know all the details, whether she is the same as Peter, bearing a curse of power, or the actual god. Either way she presents as human and is not treated differently than any other human woman. At the end of the series we realize how corrupt she is and that she’s been working with Nazi’s, not necessarily for the ideology but to achieve what she wants. Her transformation is the nail in her coffin of her monsterous perception. The question is did we need her to look like a monster to see her as one?

In general we are left with more questions and theories than answers.

But onto my subjective answers to the questions. My answers might change over time so don’t hold me to them.

Of course it matters if Peter has humanity. Peter Parker across the board is one of the characters who HAS to hold himself to a moral code or he falls apart and becomes the villain(well maybe not the villain but you know what I mean) of the story. He holds back during fights and has a no kill policy for a reason.(Good men don’t need rules, today is not the day to find out why I have so many.-dr.who) But noir Peter isn’t your typical Peter. He kills, he maims, he doesn’t hold back. With that said, he still is held together by his morality. It’s just different than what we are used to seeing from Peter, but don’t mistake that as a lack of morality. However, do I think it’s a very real possibility that this morality could be eroded over time especially considering his home world and the above circumstances? Absolutely. Peter is someone who historically needs someone to ground him and ‘make’ him human. This is normally May Parker, Mary Jane, Gwen Stacy, occasionally Harry Osborn, Daredevil, Johnny Storm, and Flash Thompson, and the ghost of Ben Parker. Dude lives by a passing saying of a dead relative, he clearly doesn’t have a super solid moral compass. I think this is part of the reason the noir comics kept his relationship with May and Mary Jane(I disagree but whatever whatever), because he needs support to stay grounded.

Now, under what circumstances is Peter no longer Peter? I’m going with the Iodine Clock titration theory. Just drop after drop of ‘changes’ and morally questionable decisions that don’t seem to hold much weight, until he does something truly off the reservation. Like seeing himself do something truly horrific that a couple years ago he would have never done and shocking himself out of it. Or looks in the mirror and doesn’t see a person staring back. For either circumstance, because he’s appalled with himself or struck by the fact he doesn’t really care. This is not to say I don’t think he could come back from this but holy shit will it be a process.

But it brings us back to ‘If there is too much power then it is the responsibility of the people to take it away.’ Peter losing his humanity puts him in the Goblin’s place as the one with great power that cannot be trusted from the first comic. Whether it’s the resurrections, the spider god ‘replacing’ parts of him, or him just being pushed to the brink mentally that does it. Whether the change is physical, neurological, spiritual, or mental. This ‘Peter’ is not the Peter we first meet in 1932.

This is a different ship, and you can sail and stay on the same course in memory of, or under the false pretense of being, the original as many times as you want, but you cannot bring back the parts you replaced and undo the ‘improvements’ you made. But that doesn’t need to make Peter a monster.

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internetgremlin-writes · 2 years

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Flat Spin [Chapter Four]

Summary/Prompt: Flat Spin

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

2. A state of agitation or panic [informal]

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

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Female Reader

Word Count: 9,200 (don't ask it didn't split up any other way and all of it felt too important to miss out)

Warnings: Miami Madness part 2: crash injuries & silly drunk boys, say it with me kids: INSPIRATION not ACCURACY

messy hair carlos = my entire body shuts down

Previous Chapters: One || Two || Three

Given the chaos of the introduction to Miami, you thought Thursday might have been a bit quieter.

You were, inevitably, wrong.

You had breakfast with Katie and a small entourage of Aston Martin staff who were trying to make your life as easy as possible, much against your will. You spent most of the meal staring over Katie's shoulder, where you could see the back of a mop of jet black hair and strong shoulders with the number 55 splayed in yellow between them. You hated how even the back of him made your stomach clench these days. You could tell by the animated movements he was deep in conversation with his own team, watching as he spoke with his hands to describe something. You wondered what he was talking about. Probably tyres if you knew Carlos at all, it was always about the tyres with him.

“Y/N!” Katie snapping her fingers in front of you brought your attention back to your own table. “Are you even listening to me?” You looked down at your yoghurt, wondering shortly if you could get away with pretending.

“No,” you admitted with a sheepish smile. She sighed and rolled her eyes.

“I was telling you where you need to be today, if you actually wanted to know,”

“Not really,” you grinned at her and she tutted at you behind her iPad, but you could see the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. You propped your elbows up on the table and battered your eyelashes sweetly at her. “Okay hit me, who do I have to make happy today?”

You wondered if the PR people get a sick kick of satisfaction out of jamming their driver's days full of mindless crap just to watch their faces fall as their own ideas of how their day might go fly out of the window. That was how it felt anyway, as you were briefed that not only would you attend your seat fitting, practice session meeting and the fan signing sessions as expected, but you were to spend any free minute in the Aston Martin hospitality watching and supporting the lower level races and entertainment being hosted on the pit lane. The only saving grace, you figured, was that Sebastian would be there with you.

You were allowed a swim after breakfast, followed by a quick stretch-out session before you were herded out into the paddock to begin duties. Surprisingly, the day slipped by quite pleasantly. The fan meet and greet was so busy it took hours to get through everyone, but the fans were insane which made it worth it for you. You’d never been given so many gifts, had so many kind words and some slightly bizarre requests. After the third man asked you to sign his bare chest you decided to place a blanket rule on body signing.

You also found yourself enjoying the lower races much more than you thought you would. Lounging in a deckchair on your fourth non-alcoholic beer watching the chaos of the pit lane from above was actually quite nice. Not being the one in the middle of it all, stressing about stop times and tyre strategy and arguing on the radio, instead just enjoying the thrill of motorsport as you had when you were a child. It was safe to say you’d missed it. You never regretted becoming a driver, but it made you think of the driver’s wives and girlfriends and part of you was a little envious of the glamour of it all, of the kind of life where your main concern would be picking your outfit for the day. You and Seb were also running a halfhearted betting pool on the F2, and lazily arguing about the most effective lines into a couple of the corners. There were a handful of sponsors around, but not enough to be much of a bother and you were pretty sure at one point when you looked over at Seb he was napping behind his sunglasses.

Much to your honour, you’d been asked to present the awards for the W-Series race, and for once you found yourself not bitterly hating the media duties and public appearances that came with being a professional athlete. The W-Series race had been a spectacular display of driving and there was no doubt that you were excited to hopefully be sharing the F1 grid with more women in the coming years. You told Jamie Chadwick you looked forward to racing her as you handed her the first-place trophy, and the young woman looked like Christmas came early as she caught you with a firm spray of champagne. A photo was taken of the entire female grid, with you in the centre afterwards. You saw it later, all of you with rosy cheeks and arms flung around each other like old friends and immediately bought a framed copy.

You’d heard only briefly from Carlos throughout the day. He was doing a filmed exposé out on one of the fancy golf courses with Lando for the majority of the day. He’d texted you a picture of a very elaborate-looking mocktail, followed by a terrible selfie of him and Lando captioned ‘muppets’. You told him about the W-Series to which he reacted with a thumbs up. By the time you’d had your police escort back to the hotel complex, it was a little past 7 pm.

You: Fancy dinner? Just got back to the hotel

You didn’t think too much about sending the text. You knew it was a long shot given the schedules of the day, but you were itching to catch up properly with Carlos and if it meant you could avoid another dinner going over the fine details of your life with Katie, well, who were you to complain. By the time you’d had a shower and changed into a pair of shorts and a loose-fitting top to try and keep the humidity away, you had three texts.

Carlos Sainz: Still in meetings, they delivered us pizza.

Carlos Sainz: I am sorry, Cariño. You can take me to the date after I win on Sunday.

His emoji use really was horrible, you thought; a chilli, a flexing arm and a winking face with its tongue out. It still made your insides warm.

Track Dad: Come to dinner with me, I’m hiding from Antti.

That was Seb, who’d earnt the nickname last year when he spent most of his time in the paddock chasing yourself and Mick Schumacher around like a parent with toddlers that kept running off. The media loved the relationship the three of you had kindled, with Seb very much mentoring the pair of you. And as for you and Mick, well you just adored him. You’d be surprised if anyone could even dislike the young German, he was nothing but nice, probably one of the sweetest men you’d ever met. He was endlessly kind and surprisingly humble to the point of being shy despite his heritage.

You sent Carlos several snoozing emojis in response and wished him luck with the meetings (but not the race) and responded to Seb that you’d meet him in the lobby in five minutes. To no one’s surprise, when you stepped out of the elevator into the air-conditioned hotel lobby, Seb was waiting for you in deep conversation with Mick. You greeted them readily, pulling Mick into a big hug as you’d not seen him around in a while.

The three of you had a wonderful dinner in the hotel, even if your menu had clearly been sent forward from your nutritionist, containing a thrilling array of steamed fish and steamed veg and plain carbohydrates. It was always easy to be yourself around the three of them, and it made you laugh how when Mick was around Seb changed from the equally troublesome teammate he was with you to a fond parent. You didn’t mind too much, because Mick was equally fun to bounce off and Seb inevitably would end up in the chaos in some way or another. You talked mostly about the upcoming race, trying to find out how best to approach a track you’d never driven before and what the weather meant for tyre strategy and how bad the first turn would be.

You fell asleep easily that night, feeling strangely satisfied and excited to get the car out for practice.

The Friday practise sessions were of little note. You got through FP1 relatively smoothly, only reporting back that your car felt a little slippy on the rear and you had to correct quite a few near-spins. It was hard to set a fast lap with hard tyres and the cluster of yellow flags you had to work your way around, but you still came out with a decent P6 and a bunch of notes you spent your lunch break poring over. FP2 started much better, and already you felt like the small adjustments your engineer had done were giving you a much sturdier and quicker drive. Working onto the medium and soft tyres was also helping, and you were just starting to enjoy the track and work up to putting some good times on the board when you drove past a flashing yellow flag.

“Virtual safety car?” You asked down the radio.

“Yep, confirmed,” you sighed, with a roll of your eyes and took the time at a cruising speed to take a sip of your drink.

“What happened? Is there debris on track?” What you really meant was who happened, but it wasn’t normal for drivers to ask that.

“Negative, no debris on track. Sainz into the wall at Turn 14,”

Fuck.

You knew this was going to happen. It was the nature of the sport that no driver was ever safe or cushioned from accidents. World champions, rookies and everyone in-between crashes out or spins or has technical problems. Hell, just last week you’d proved that. But you really hadn’t expected to hear his name like that so soon. You weren’t ready for the way your stomach dropped and your chest squeezed and the only thing you cared about was if he was okay or not. At least last time you’d been so out of it you’d barely been aware of your own injuries let alone someone else’s. This time all you could think about was what kind of mess he was in.

As you approached the third sector of the track you slowed to a virtual crawl until the stricken Ferrari was visible. It was sat flush against the concrete barrier deep in a gravel trap, but Carlos was out and you saw a flash of his red race suit as he hopped the fence, providing only a small flood of relief to know he walked away. You were distracted for the rest of FP2, even so, you managed to pull a P5 and gain 1.3 seconds on your FP1 time.

Your team seemed pretty pleased with you, and you managed to ignore their comments about Sainz’s sudden trend in finding gravel. It was taking everything you had not to ask everyone you saw if they’d heard anything and if he was okay. Instead, you sat through your debrief meeting, desperately refusing to acknowledge the way Seb was watching you quizzically as you fidgeted and stared at the clock behind Mike and almost bolted out of the door the second it was over. You had your head down in your phone before you’d even turned into the corridor. Carlos had already updated to his Instagram that he was fine and would be competing in the rest of the weekend as normal, and you were halfway through drafting a text to him when you walked right into someone.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, barely looking up from your phone as you hit the send button.

“Hey, what’s the rush?” It was Seb, who’d steadied you and stepped back, his expression unreadable.

“Nothing,”

“You didn’t seem all there at debrief. Is everything okay?” As much as you loved Seb, his attention to detail was sometimes a nightmare.

“Yeah I’m fine, I was just…” You trailed off, unsure of what you were just doing.

“I was on my way to get a coffee, come with me,” one thing you loved about your teammate and mentor was he never asked you anything. His invites were more statements, and you liked that. It made you feel wanted and included and especially in your rookie year it was exactly what you’d needed to help you settle on the grid. It didn’t take long for the pair of you to have fallen into step and locate the nearest coffee machine in the building. You were nursing a steaming americano and quietly observing the emptying paddock when Seb started again.

“Forming close, ah, relationships, with fellow drivers is tricky. You spend so much time together it feels inevitable, but also they are your competitors. It’s hard to find the balance, how much time do these people deserve of you? How much of yourself? How much of your care?” He was staring into the distance, a look on his face that made you wonder if he was thinking about someone in particular as he spoke. “When it takes over your mind, when you can’t concentrate because of them, it can be dangerous. And bad for your career,” he chuckled dryly to himself. “You see it more often than you think. It’s why a lot of us have to change teams,”

“What do you-”

“I think it is very good you are branching out, making other friends. I’m too old to be keeping you company so much, and Carlos is a good man. I wanted to be the one to tell you, so you know it’s not trouble, but to be mindful. Be mindful of how much you think of them when you’re on the track. No matter what’s happening elsewhere,”

“Oh,” Seb offered you a warm smile as he sipped his drink. You could feel the heat rising into your face. “Well I’m not - he’s not my- it’s not like that,”

“Don’t panic so much, Y/N, consider it a general warning about getting close to anyone. I have to be careful myself with you and Mick, and of course back when…” he tailed off and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was thinking of Mick’s father and Seb’s initial mentor. The news of Micheal’s accident had been devastating to all motorsport fans - but for Seb, who was as close to him as family - you didn’t want to think about how much it had hurt him. Your phone pinged in your pocket and on instinct you checked it, leaving Seb lost in his memory a little longer.

It was Carlos, assuring you he was fine, but nonetheless, his room number was supplied.

“Go see him,” Seb’s words brought you back to the present as you finished the dregs of your coffee. He had a wry smile that was a lot more Seb. You nudged his shoulder affectionately and thanked him for the coffee and chat, before turning to leave him on the balcony.

“Hey, Y/N,” he caught you, making you turn to look over your shoulder for a moment. “Not that you need it, but I approve of him very much,” he winked at you, the shit. In the sinking sunlight, his blue eyes were twinkling playfully. You hoped you weren’t blushing too much as you nodded awkwardly at the floor and hurried out.

There was a Seven-Eleven on the way back to the hotel. You stopped and bought a slice of rich-looking chocolate cake from the fridge section.

Carlos was quick to open the door for you, his face lighting up when he realised it was you who was knocking. You noticed he was a little slow as he made his way back over to the bed with a stilted gait.

“I brought cake,” you held up the plastic case in your hand as if it wasn’t obvious. You felt a little small and stupid, but Carlos was watching you as if you were the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.

“Why?” You shrugged, trying to ignore the way your face was heating up as you looked at your shoes.

“My mum used to - if I got in an accident - she used to get us chocolate cake on the way home,” Carlos nodded slowly.

“Thank you,” you leant down to place the cake in his minifridge and gently toe your shoes off, padding over to the chair opposite his bed and dropping into it.

“I suppose it means that bad days can end nicely or something,” his expression changed at your throwaway comment, an eyebrow creeping up into his hairline and a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth that made you feel like a deer in headlights, frozen under his gaze.

“It’s ending very nicely,” before you could open your mouth to question him, he was gesturing for you to come closer, patting the space beside him on the bed. You were all too happy to oblige, your skin bristling pleasantly whenever his arm brushed against yours.

Carlos had been watching a game of football, and you leant quietly against his shoulder as he explained the rules to you. If you were being entirely honest, you couldn’t have given less of a shit about football if you tried, but it was clearly something that Carlos was passionate about and you would have sat there and listened to him recite Pythagoras’ Theorem as if it was the only thing you could ever care about.

It felt strange, but the nice kind of strange, to be back in a plain hotel room together, sitting a little too close on a king-sized bed. Except this time you were trying to ignore the way your skin was thrumming with electricity and the way you couldn’t stop thinking about the last time you saw him when he’d taken you on the most beautiful date you’d ever been on and then kissed you. You wondered if he wanted to kiss you again. It felt like dates when you were 15. When you were so enthralled by the new world that was physical touch that you spent most minutes with a boy wondering if - or when - the next moment would come where your fingers brushed against each other or his arm found its awkward place on your hips or his nose bumped yours as you kissed, badly.

Carlos must have noticed you drift off because he was poking you gently, a playful smile tugging at his features.

“Am I really so boring to you?”

“What?”

“You weren’t listening!”

“I was!”

“No, you didn’t!” He was pouting, somehow managing to look both ridiculous and adorable at the same time. “You came all this way to make me feel better and then you didn’t even listen to me,” you couldn’t help but snort, partly because Carlos was still poking softly at your sides in a way that was starting to tickle.

“All the way from down the corridor, sure,” you rolled your eyes playfully and Carlos gasped with mock offence, matching your energy as his fingers dug into your side, making you squeal as he began to tickle you in earnest. You tried to shimmy away, but he was quick - an arm snaking around your waist and holding you firm against him as he made you squirm. You couldn’t control the high-pitched giggles he was pulling from you. You hadn’t noticed he’d rolled back, dragging you with him so you were balanced in his lap until your stomach was sore and you were begging for him to stop and let you breathe.

The grin on Carlos’ face faded quickly when he realised the position he’d put you in. You didn’t miss the way his tongue slipped out to moisten his lips. One of his hands slipped down from your ribs to your hip, the other reaching up to softly brush a strand of hair that had worked its way loose in the struggle behind your ear. You tried to ignore the way your face was heating up and his touch sent a trail of goosebumps raising along your arm. You placed a tentative hand on his chest, stabilising yourself and searching for boundaries all at once.

Carlos lunged for you. He cradled the back of your head and pulled you down to meet him at the same time as he sat himself up, catching you in a kiss that couldn’t have been more different to the last one. It felt like something was burning between you, something that made you hungry, desperate for him. The smell of cologne and burnt rubber fogged your mind. He was so warm, pulling you close so as much of your body was pressed against his as possible. He made a small noise against your mouth and you felt any resolve you had melt away, your body becoming soft and malleable in his hands.

His arm found its way around your waist again and you allowed yourself a second to revel in the security of him as you broke away from his lips to press experimental kisses along his jaw bone. Carlos shuddered against you and in one smooth motion rolled you sideways onto your back, settling himself between your legs.

Or at least that had been the plan. He leant down to reconnect your lips and winced, pulling back. You reacted immediately, trying to push down the bolt of insecurity that shot through you as you scrabbled up so you could sit opposite him. Carlos groaned and fell back into the position he had been in, leaning back against the headboard of the bed.

“Are you okay?” You hoped you didn’t sound as panicked as you felt. His eyes were closed and his breathing a little too shallow.

“Yes, just-” he winced again “Not steady enough. I was told to be resting,”

“Sorry-” you felt small, and suddenly the room was too hot and too cold at once and all you could think about was finding an excuse to leave rather than face him. But Carlos was shaking his head before you could get any further.

“No, Cariño, not your fault. I wanted to,” his thumb was rubbing smooth circles against your hip bone. “God, I want to,” there was something strained in his voice. Your chest blossomed with warmth at his admission that his desire matched your own, and it gave you the confidence to push it down. It wasn’t the right time, for either of you. Not before qualifying, not with injuries.

“How bad were you hurt?” You murmured, your eyes glued to the spot on his neck he kept touching. He shrugged, but Carlos had never been very good at hiding his facial expressions and you knew he was in pain, and probably a little embarrassed.

“My neck - we don’t know how bad yet. There were too many Gs and the concrete wall was bad, I don’t know why it wasn’t Tecpro. And the hip - it’s a contusion but okay,” you made a face as he spoke. You’d had a hip contusion before and you knew Carlos was downplaying the pain.

“Where?” the word was barely a whisper from you, but Carlos understood and he lifted the left side of his t-shirt up.

Arching in a half-moon was a streak of purple that fanned out at the edges, the bruise already well-formed in the hours since the accident. It followed the shape of his hip perfectly, the final tendrils reaching down into the groove that disappeared below the waistband of his boxers. You couldn’t stop yourself as you ran your fingers carefully along the shape of it. Carlos’ eyes never left yours as you watched his face for any signs of pain. He gave you none.

“Shit, Carlos,” you felt his stomach move beneath the pads of your fingers as he huffed out a dry laugh.

“It’s not that bad,”

“It looks bad, are you icing it?” He groaned, but there was a smile behind his eyes.

“Mrs Nurse,” you gave him a stern look. “In the fridge,” ignoring his protests you made your way back to the mini-fridge, collecting an ice pack from the freezer box at the top which you’d previously not noticed and wrapped it carefully in a t-shirt you plucked from the pile on his desk that was waiting to be put away. Before he could protest, you pressed the pack against his clothed hip. He hissed as you did so, but relaxed into your touch. You tried to push down the image that the noise created in your mind.

Carlos’ hand came to cover yours on the ice pack, so you carefully slid away and let him adjust it against himself. You settled against his good side as he turned his attention back to the football, now showing the highlights of the game. You couldn’t stop yourself from reaching up to press a kiss against his cheek, enjoying the way his lips pulled into a smile and his cheeks flushed a little.

You sat with him until the football highlights ended, and your phone had pinged three times with questions from Katie about why you hadn't collected your dinner yet. At the thought of dinner, your stomach growled, which made Carlos’ gaze fix on you with a startled expression.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t eat again,”

“It wasn’t on purpose!” You defended “I came here straight after debrief,” the arm that was around your waist squeezed you into his side and he pressed a dry kiss to your temple.

“‘M glad you did,” you hummed against him.

“Me too,” you could have stayed there all day, but your stomach was making a lot of noise and Carlos was laughing and pushing you to your feet and walking you to the door.

“Go eat, Y/N, otherwise you’ll be no fun to beat tomorrow,”

“Bold of you to assume I won’t be on the front row, Sainz,” he grinned at you.

“P2 is good to start from, no?” You slapped his chest with no malice.

“See you in my mirrors,”

“See you on the podium,”

“Top step baby,”

“I’d still be taller,”

“It’s not about height though, is it?” And then he was kissing you again and pushing you out of his door and you stumbled down to the restaurant to collect your dinner, the haze of him still carrying you.

*****

Qualifying was relatively unexciting. After a strong start and a couple of purple sections you were pleased to have made it to Q3, but that was where things started to slip. An unfortunate late spin saw you struggling to make up time, and your final fast lap was disappointing. You weren’t really surprised when you were told you’d gotten P7, and you didn’t know what was worse. The disappointment of knowing you had so much more to give, or the fact that your team were celebrating because, unlike Seb, at least you made it into the final qualifying round. Carlos had gotten P2, and you watched as he did his live interviews on the grid alongside Charles and Max. You were a little surprised that Max was only in P3, but you weren’t exactly going to be complaining if it meant keeping the championship battle open a little longer.

You survived interviews in the media pen, working your hardest to hitch a smile onto your face and answer politely and professionally as you were questioned on your mistakes in every which way. You knew it came with the territory, but you still dreaded the headlines that evening. Every driver was criticised by armchair experts the second they weren’t at the top of everything, but for some reason, your gender seemed to only become part of the story when you’d either majorly fucked up or snatched a good win.

You were kind of hoping to see Carlos either in the paddock or on the way back to the hotel, but by the time you’d made it out of the team debrief and you’d had a good long rant with Seb about everything the paddock was nearly empty and so was the restaurant. You took your meal up to your room and sat stoically watching a sitcom you didn’t follow and pointedly ignoring the internet and anyone from Aston Martin. The only texts you’d replied to were from your family and the one from Carlos, which came in just as you were about to go to sleep.

Carlos Sainz: Bad luck today. Drive fast tomorrow, I want to battle my favourite maneater.

You were too tired to properly reply, so you just sent him a little heart emoji and slipped into sleep.

You woke up early the next morning. Over a quiet breakfast in your room, you made a resolute plan to blatantly ignore everything that had happened up to this point in the weekend and train all your focus on nailing the race. You made Katie spend nearly two hours in the gym with you going over the final warm-up and conditioning exercises, followed by an extensive stretch-out.

You thought you’d be able to avoid a lot of the chaos of race morning by heading to the stadium early, but you were strongly informed that it didn’t matter how early you were, you were still being escorted by the police to and from the stadium. The second you stepped out of the hotel into the sunlight you were almost blinded by flashes from cameras, and it took you 20 minutes of ignoring the paparazzi and signing items from fans who were wishing you all the luck in the world today before you could even get to your car. Usually, you didn’t much enjoy the fan interactions. It was always nice to have people in your corner but you found being stopped constantly, having to smile for photos and sign something every few steps could wear you down, not to mention the kind of fans that had no boundaries and assumed you would be their best friend, despite having met them ten seconds ago. However today you found their positivity was fuelling something within you, the desire to outperform everyone else stronger than ever.

As a result, you spent most of the day hiding out in the Aston Martin garage and the offices above. Several hours were dedicated to agonising over minute details with your head engineer and strategist, the three of you more determined than ever to put you back on the podium as a minimum. You also spent much longer on your warm-up than normal and went through two cooling vests before you even made it down for the grid walk and National Anthem.

Sometimes you didn’t mind the grid walk, and Martin Brundle wasn’t exactly difficult to chat to. But today, standing beside Daniel Ricciardo for the anthem and admiring the headphones that he wore to avoid talking to anyone before a race, you understood him entirely. It didn’t help that the grid walk was packed. Simply turning away from the anthem lineup to walk back to your car felt like you were immediately absorbed into a mosh pit. A throng of hot, sweaty bodies pressed against you from all angles was doing nothing to help you keep a narrow tunnel of focus. You had three different phones shoved into your face, asking you to say hi to a TikTok live before you even got to the first row.

It almost, almost, felt good to be absorbed in the sea of Ferrari tops buzzing about the place, because at least here you were shielded from pseudocelebrities all clamouring for a piece of - well what you didn’t even know because most of them clearly were not Formula One fans.

When you made it to your car you immediately climbed in, ignoring the way you already felt unbearably hot and how you knew sitting like this for ten minutes before you even got to the formation lap was a bad idea. You spotted Martin Brundle, looking awkward as he tried to flag down celebrities to interview. It looked like he knew as few people as you did. You decided the best thing you could do for yourself was just zone out. You closed your eyes, finding the right groove in your seat where it felt like your whole body was being cradled by the car, the straps comforting in the way they anchored you in. Your helmet smelt like a new car, the way you liked it before the padding became soaked in your sweat. You checked the water tube, twice, and adjusted the position of your radio. By the time you were sent out on the formation lap you felt like a greyhound out of the trap, the only thing on your mind was the stupid stuffed rabbit you just needed to sink your teeth into.

And then you were in position and you were revving and you watched, heart thudding throughout your entire body as those five red circles went out and your whole body was thrown backwards and you accelerated like your life depended on it.

The race in itself was actually quite dull for the majority of it. You took Lando, who started just a place ahead of you in the first three laps and then sat in a comfortable P6 for nearly half the race. The leaders had put a significant gap between yourself and them that you didn’t even see George Russel, who was holding his own in 5th until you’d been driving for nearly an hour. It was an eight-lap battle to get past the Mercedes, who was clearly fighting you for everything he was worth and it took you six DRS zones to finally draw equal enough with him that you could cut him off through a corner and take the position. It wasn’t until after your strategist complimented you on the particularly smooth manoeuvre that you realised it had been at Turn 14.

Just ahead of Russel was Perez, the Red Bull’s tail already taunting you and you could see the back of a Ferrari dancing just ahead of you as well. If you’d thought the battle with Russel had been drawn out, the opposite was true for Checo. It was like you’d caught the Mexican by surprise as you zipped down the inside straight with your DRS open and there was nothing he could do to stop you.

“Okay Y/N, gap for P3 is 2.8 seconds,” your radio crackled.

“Time to send it?”

“Send it.”

“Copy,” you couldn’t keep the grin out of your tone as you began your drive for real. On a reasonably fresh set of soft tyres, you felt like nothing could stop you as you started driving like it was Q3 all over again and your only goal was pole position.

The Ferrari in front of you was making your life difficult. You felt like you were almost matched in pace, every time you got close it inched further away. Every time you took the corner so tightly you could have been Dutch, so did the car in front. For every attack line you could throw at him, he had a perfect defence line.

“Gap to Sainz 0.8 seconds, you’ll have DRS on the next lap. Three laps left,”

“Copy,” of course it was Carlos. He said he wanted a battle and he was sure as hell giving you one. Determined not to cause a second Imola, you played the game mirroring him and just biding your time, inching ever closer. By the final lap you were virtually side by side, but every time your DRS opened his did too as Charles didn’t have much of a lead. You imagined the commentary must be going insane, a Ferrari and an Aston Martin neck and neck into the final lap.

You decided to take a risk and try a manoeuvre you’d only ever discussed in theory. You dropped back, letting Carlos take the lead on you again but staying within DRS. You were trying to pick up a slipstream, hoping that you’d be close enough when your DRS ended that you could use the continued boost of power to just slip past him on an inside corner. It was like Carlos could read your mind, because you got your perfect opportunity, gaining on him with the DRS open, so close you were almost touching his rear wing. You took a deep breath, swinging left to come into the first turn of the chicane sharper than him. You were almost level as you began to push the drift to keep the speed for the second half, but then the Ferrari shot forward and you found yourself following him into the final straight.

You tried to pull level again, throwing everything at the car on the straight, your eyes entirely trained on that chequered flag as you came over the line and pulled off the throttle.

You couldn’t help but hold your breath as you waited for your result over the radio.

“Fantastic drive, Y/N, simply perfect!” Your radio was alight with delighted messages from the team. “P4 confirmed, that’s P4 with the fastest lap. Well done,” you felt yourself deflate a little at losing the podium. You’d really wanted it, to saunter into the media pen and smile sweetly at everyone who critiqued you yesterday. But P4 was good points, and it was your first-ever fastest lap. You had to admit there was something very pleasant about knowing you had the edge on both the Red Bulls and the Ferraris, yet there was still a bitter taste in your mouth as you pulled off the track and into the pit lane to greet your team.

*****

The following few hours were a blur. Your team was delighted with you, and even more so because Seb had clawed his way to P7, meaning double points for the team. The interviews were insane, lasting twice as long as usual as you answered question after question, most of them about the battle with Carlos on the final laps and if you thought there was anywhere you went wrong.

You watched the podium from below, and something in you eased a little. Carlos was all but glowing in the golden evening sunlight, his beam visible across the entire stadium. The trio also had to wear football helmets instead of the Pirelli caps, and there was some bizarre streamer party which was enough for you to be at least a little satiated with watching from afar.

Seb had congratulated you with a twinkle in his eye.

“Good drive. No mercy,” he’d winked as he clapped you on the back and you had to ignore the blush creeping up your cheeks.

There was talk of an after-party, which you were planning on tactically avoiding. You weren’t always straight-laced, and when you were in the mood you loved getting very, very drunk and partying the night away in clubs around the world. But Miami was Miami and you’d had enough. The race had taken everything out of you, you were still struggling to want to celebrate the P4 and to be blunt you were sick to the back teeth of people asking you stupid questions.

You had been about to slide off towards the back entrance when Katie caught you.

“Not a chance,”

“What?”

“You are not sneaking away tonight,” you groaned dramatically, dropping your head back like a small child.

“I wasn’t-”

“The after-party is at this place,” she handed you a business card which you looked wearily at. You didn’t like the idea of a nightclub that comes with its own business card. “It’s being hosted by a lot of sponsors - don’t look at me like that I’m just relaying the message! Mike says it’s mandatory. I’ll be at your hotel room at 9 pm, sharp.”

You just rolled your eyes and grumbled something about free booze, before joining the small queue of drivers waiting for their police escort back to the hotel complex.

Back at the hotel, you showered in record time and then spent half an hour drying your hair whilst staring blankly at your wardrobe. You’d asked Katie if there was a dress code and she was yet to reply, which usually meant no. The idea of clubbing and a sponsorship event happening simultaneously didn’t sit right with you. You couldn’t exactly wear jeans and your team polo to what seemed like one of the most exclusive clubs in Miami. You also couldn’t wear the usual skin-tight, see-through and/or barely-there garments clubbing usually came with. In the end, you picked out one of the shorter dresses you carried with you.

It was a ridiculous little thing and you hadn’t even been sure where you were ever going to wear it, but you’d seen it in a tiny boutique at home and it plagued you for days until you eventually went back to get it. It was satin, silky smooth and the perfect slip, and of course, it happened to be Aston Martin green. You liked it because you thought it made your figure, which was naturally very muscular due to the nature of the sport, appear softer and feminine in a different way to what you were used to. You decided to pair the dress with black strappy stiletto heels that you’d definitely end up taking off or running the risk of breaking an ankle in and a delicate choker necklace. You left your hair down and even experimented with some smudged eyeliner that softened and accentuated your eyes before there was a knock at the door and you were greeting Katie.

Katie immediately commented on the green, so you decided that meant it had been a good choice. She was wearing a skirt and a pretty cami top, also green. You met up with a handful of other team members in the lobby, including Seb who was wearing dress pants and a white button-down shirt with the top button popped open. He’d also trimmed his beard and attempted to control the mane of hair he was currently sporting into an organised sweep.

The club was within walking distance of the compound, much to your dismay as you tried to settle into the rhythm of wearing heels. You wished you were one of those girls who wore heels everywhere, but you spent most of your time in trainers or racing boots so it was taking a little time to get used to the change. Seb let you hold his arm though, and you were almost the same height in your heels.

The queue for the club was already winding around the block when you arrived and you found yourself secretly thanking your privilege as your little entourage was sent straight through a black velvet rope and into a VIP door.

No matter how fancy they are, all nightclubs smell the same. Of sickly sweet alcohol, sweat and an acrid mingle of perfumes and aftershaves. You found your nose wrinkling instinctively, and then within seconds spotted a camera so quelled your expression into a soft smile that said ‘I want to be here’. The party was clearly sponsored by one of the beer brands that had banners all over the race because the usual bar was closed and instead, it was lined with rows of hundreds of green glass bottles, tall tables dotted around also piled high and you even spotted several men in full suits carrying around trays dipping under the weight of the bottles. The rest of the team had dispersed immediately, and you realised that for a lot of the group it would be more about securing investments and sponsors than it would be about celebrating a good weekend.

You were glad you had Seb by your side, quickly joined by Mick who looked very sweet in a red bow tie with a lost expression. The three of you plucked a bottle each off the nearest table and made your way to the seated area where you could watch over the rapidly growing crowd.

“It must be nearly full already?” Mick was shouting over the thumping bass, casting a wary look at the entrance where a steady stream of people dressed to the nines was still flowing in. Seb shook his head, shouting something back that you didn’t quite hear. The three of you stayed in the booths, having quickly worked out that if you lounged around and looked bored enough a man in a suit would bring you a tray of beer.

You were three in and finally starting to relax when Mick grew tired of trying to make small talk over the noise and started begging you for a dance. You decided to agree, Seb taking pictures as you and Mick began a horrible rendition of the funky chicken to a song you didn’t know. He was pulling a wide variety of concentrating expressions as if he was trying his best for you, and it was sending you into fits of giggles. Eventually, Seb clearly couldn’t stand watching the two of you mimic TikTok dances that were getting worse and worse by the minute and cut in.

He was showing off, scoping you up into a ballroom pose with one hand respectfully high on your waist and the other supporting your hand delicately as he swept you around in a couple of easy steps. Mick looked dumbfounded.

“I didn’t know you can dance!”

“A gentleman that can’t dance, tsk tsk,” was his smug response. Ever since he joined Aston Martin, Seb liked to lean into the fantasy that he was James Bond and should behave accordingly. He was drunkenly trying to show Mick how to dance, you not so subtly videoing off to the side when someone caught your elbow.

You’d half expected it to be Carlos, you weren’t sure why, you hadn’t seen him all night, but it didn’t stop the small blossom of disappointment in your chest when you found yourself face to face with a man you didn’t recognise, who was holding out a beer for you. You politely declined as he introduced himself as one of the managers of a company that had stakes in Aston Martin, so you smiled sweetly and made a little bit of idle chit-chat about the cars and the good result until he spotted someone who was clearly more important than you, patted you on the exposed middle of your back in a way that made you shiver uncomfortably and disappeared into the crowd.

You switched onto the alcohol-free beers after that.

The rest of the night followed suit. It was what felt like a seemingly endless cycle of accepting a 0% beer from a man you didn’t know, making a weak attempt at conversation and having a carefully distanced dance with him before he’d see someone else he needed to talk to and move on, leaving you free to sneak off to the toilets for a moment to breathe and take some selfies with the women in there. You’d lost Mick and Seb shortly after the second businessman dragged you onto the dancefloor, and you liked to think you were holding your own quite well, but you still felt a little lost. You were trying to fight the urge to crane your neck around in search of Carlos, but you’d given up after a few hours and accepted there was an even more exclusive party for the top teams.

You’d excused yourself to make another trip to the bathroom, checking your phone on the way to realise it was nearing 1 am and the night was nowhere near over when a hand landed on your bare shoulder, making you turn sharply.

“Cariño!” It was Carlos. He was grinning at you languidly. “There you are!”

“Hello,” it was the first real smile you’d managed all night. Even in the low light, Carlos looked incredible. He was wearing another white shirt, with the top two buttons popped open and the sleeves rolled up the way he had on your date. His hair was a little dishevelled, as he ran his fingers through it you realised why. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were bright, still with that podium glow as he looked at you. And then he looked at you, his eyes flickering down as he took in your whole figure, right down to your toes that were still miraculously in their shoes, and then raked his way back up to your face. You watched his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.

“You look stunning,” he leant in to speak to you, lips gently grazing the sensitive shell of your ear and his hand almost burning on your waist. Your body automatically melted into him. If you thought you’d been relaxing earlier when you were dancing with Seb and Mick, it paled into comparison with the way you felt so right as your body slotted against his, finding your place on his hip with ease.

“Not so bad yourself,” you grinned, playing with the collar of his shirt. His eyes searched your face once more and you knew that if you hadn’t been in a crowded nightclub crawling with journalists and paparazzi and bosses, you would have been all over each other. “You gonna ask me for a dance?” You reciprocated his earlier movement, your lips deliberately catching his ear as you spoke. You felt his chest vibrate in response.

He took your hand and let you carefully to the dancefloor, spinning you expertly and catching you with ease as he found a spot. You looped your arms over his shoulders as he began to move slowly. And then there was a fat hand landing on his shoulder.

“Carlos, my man! My guy!” And Carlos spun around, apparently recognising the man because he dropped you like a hot coal, sending you an apologetic glance and mouthing the word ‘later’ as he was dragged back towards the bar. You should have known it wouldn’t have been that easy to get a dance with a trophy-holder. Although you spotted Charles alone in a corner of the dance floor, thrusting into thin air with a grin on his face that said he was already drunk out of his mind.

You went back to your routine of non-alcoholic beer, bathroom trips and chatting up sponsors, but you weren’t really interested. You were nodding along absentmindedly as they spoke to you, not really listening as you scanned the crows from your new vantage point on the balcony upstairs. You spotted Carlos every now and then, each time deep in conversation with someone pressing another beer into his hand.

By 2:30 am you were almost sober, bored out of your mind and your feet were hurting. You thought you must have done enough for the team and decided to call it a night, texting Katie quickly to let her know where you’d be. The second you were outside the air was like a drink of iced water. It wasn’t cold, instead just soothing as the breeze carried through your lungs and you felt yourself open up as the fumes of the club washed off you. You kicked off your shoes and padded back to the hotel barefoot. You probably shouldn’t have walked back alone, but the streets were alive with post-race celebrations and you followed the well-lit road the whole way back.

You’d barely had time to throw your hair up and wipe off your makeup when there was a hammering at your door. The figure swayed through the peephole, but you knew who it was.

When you opened the door there was Carlos, leaning against the doorframe.

He looked sexy for all but two seconds until he stumbled forwards. You just about managed to steady him and lead him into your room.

“Hello,”

“Mi sol,” his voice was low as he pawed at your dress, not really trying to take it off you but just watching the way the fabric slipped through his fingers.

“How did you get my room number?”

“Seb,” he pursed his lips, making the ‘b’ sound pop, and giggled to himself. He swayed again and you realised he was very drunk. His interest had left the dress and he was nosing at your exposed skin, placing kisses messily along your shoulder towards the base of your neck. You couldn’t deny the goosebumps rising on your skin.

“And how many beers have you been given, hm?” You questioned lightly, running a hand through his hair with a sigh.

“Enough to know you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,”

His lips tasted like beer.

“Carlos,” you weren’t really protesting as you let him walk you backwards until your knees hit the bed, and he crawled on top of you as you laid back.

“I want you so bad,” you could only manage another high-pitched sigh in response, your mind clouding over with your want for him. It felt like he was leaving trails of crackling electricity along your skin.

“Carlos,”

“I know,” he groaned against your mouth, pressing his hips down against your leg, his fingers teasing up your thigh and slipping below the hem of your dress. He was pressing sloppy kisses on any part of your neck he could reach. “You feel so good,” he was drunk, you told yourself. This wasn’t right. It was hard to break away from his spell because he was right. It did feel so good, and he was barely doing anything. “The things I wanna do to you,” you shuddered.

“Carlos,”

“Do for you,” Jesus Christ, he wasn’t going to make this easy.

“Carlos, you’re drunk,” he hummed against your neck, his hips rolling down against yours in vein. You steeled yourself, fighting every instinct in your body as you gently pushed him back, and moved out from under him.

“This isn’t a good idea,” he pouted and whined, reaching out for you like a child. Those stupid brown eyes would be the death of you one day, you thought. You let him hold your hands. “Not tonight, at least,” he had a glazed look on his face.

“Okay,”

You’d have thought he’d fight more than that, but instead, he simply stood up, walked over to your couch and collapsed, eyes closing.

“Carlos, honey, you can’t sleep here,”

“‘S warm,” he burrowed down. You had no idea how he looked so cute, trying to curl up on your couch.

“Come on, you need to go back to your room or they’ll ask questions,”

Carlos, fortunately, had the good grace to be a cooperative drunk and let you walk him back down to his room, you got him in and let him go about wrestling his clothes off whist you got him a glass of water and left a packet of painkillers on the bedside table for him. He crawled into bed after you helped with the final buttons of his shirt, and diligently ignored the way he was trying to encourage you to lose your dress to match.

“You should come to Barcelona early,”

“Hm?”

“Stay with me. I know all the good places,”

“All of them?” He grinned at you, but it slipped quickly, his eyes sliding out of focus before fluttering shut.

“All of ‘em,”

You pressed a sweet kiss to his forehead.

“Okay,” you said, and made your way back to your empty hotel room.

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

Chapter Five

Check out my Masterlist here!

Hello hello

As you can see, there was a reason the gap between this chapter and the last was quite long. This was a MONSTER to write but I've had so much fun with it and it's been a nice break from rotations when I've had time

And for anyone getting antsy, there will be a full smut scene in the next chapter, I promise!

So yeah, not much else to say for this one other than I hope you guys like it and as always feedback is hugely appreciated!!

I also cannot thank you guys enough for the continuing support and love i've had not only on Flat Spin but on the prompt challenge and my other works! It honestly means the world and hearing stuff from you guys is so inspiring and motivating to keep writing <3 <3 I know I don't always reply to every comment, sometimes I don't see them straight away but I see them ALL & will get round to replying to all soon!!

<3 <3

Le Gremlin

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ros3ybabe · 8 months

Text

Daily Check-in September 11th and 12th, 2023 🎀

Did not have the time to make one yesterday as I didn't get home til almost 11 pm and was so tired that i immediately passed out. I had a really good day today(Tuesday), tho! I ordered a bunch of stationery off of Stationery Pal and Kawaii pen shop, and ahhhh, I love all of it, and they BOTH came in less than a week after I placed my order. The quality of everything is *chefs kiss* and I am so excited to start using all this stuff in my university academics as well as my self study goals! I might even switch back to paper notes because of all the stuff I bought, who knows.

Will not include What I Ate as I honestly don't remember, I am very tired at the moment(Tuesday night), having run most of today with 3 hours of sleep. This check in is going to be a bit more on the self care self compassion side as I had a rough two days honestly.

🩷 Personal Achievements -

Washed my hair

Made it to both classes on time

Organized my new stationery in my desk

Cooked steak *actually* good in my food fundamentals class

🩷 Academic Achievements -

Completed a PSYC writing assignment

Completed NUTR assignment

Completed pre lab quiz for my Anatomy Lab

Completed Osmosis lab report

Earned my Human Subjects Research Training certificate for my PSYC class

(I’m certified to use human subjects in research studies at my university for the next 3 years now, how cool!?)

Should I make a post about the stationery I got? Like a haul/review post? Let me know what you think! It’s all pretty aesthetic so I would love to share my opinions on the quality of the stuff I bought….and I bought a lot of stuff without realizing it!

🩷 As of today, Wednesday September 13th, here’s a little academic todo list for today:

Weekly Writing for my Food Fundamentals class

Take my Exam 1 for my NUTR class

Read Chapter 11 for my Personal Finance class + take notes on IPad

Complete my Nutrition Log for my Fitness for Health and Sport class

Study Japanese for 20+ minutes

🩷 And here’s a little personal to do list for today:

Change current fitted bed sheet to new one I just bought and washed, throw away old one

Take my bedroom trash out, throw out package box

Clean bathroom completely

Sweep bedroom

Organize desk more efficiently

Wash my current dirty laundry

Put away previous clean laundry

Change clear shower liner to my new one

Throw out old carpets and replace with new ones

Follow my skincare routine (my face is begging to be taken care of again)

Possibly hang up my string lights with clips behind my desk and attach BTS photos to clips 💜

Budget for paycheck tomorrow

This check in was definitely a little different than the others, especially cause I started it last night but had to save it as a draft cause I nearly fell asleep while typing it up. I will definitely post an update tonight to see how much of my to do lists I accomplished! Looking forward to having today to myself, as I didn’t go to class due to the extreme rain we’re having (I walk to my campus as I do not drive…at all) and I’m completely home alone today! Let the productivity begin!

Til next time, lovelies 🩷🤍

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e-dubbc11 · 1 year

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The Sweet Spot

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: None really. This is pure fluff, maybe a swear word or two, actually nope, I don’t think there are any. Oh there is a drug reference, sort of.

Word Count: 2.3k-ish

Summary: You and Billy are invited to a picnic and you offer to bring dessert and wine. Billy offers to help you bake

A/N: Using the prompt “Oh I’m sorry. Was that too much?” Part of the writing challenge that my lovelies over on the Thirsty for Cox server decided to do for the month of March. I’m a little worried this might be a little boring so I’m sorry if it is but it is all kinds of fluffy. I hope you like it. Oh there is an I Love Lucy moment in this too.

As always, thank you for reading! I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

The iPad was turned on and in its stand on the kitchen counter, baking ingredients were spread out all over the counter space. Everything meticulously placed in the order they were going to be used in as well as all of the utensils and your stand mixer.

A few weeks ago, the Castle family told you and Billy about a picnic they were going to be having at their house. You offered to bring a dessert and wine, but what to make? Scrolling through countless recipes on Pinterest, you were just overwhelmed with everything.

Of course, Billy tried to help you with your search. He loved chocolate and the Castle children did also so when you were trying to figure out what to make, Billy had a suggestion of his own. “Can you make something with chocolate, sweet girl? You know how much I love chocolate.”

A cunning smile spread across his face, he’d always get you with that smile.

“You know Lisa and Junior love chocolate too so I think you’d be the hit of the party if you made something with chocolate.” Said Billy.

In a sarcastic tone and narrowing your eyes at him, you replied “So what you’re saying is…I should make something with chocolate.”

He shook his head, still smiling and said “Ah, there’s my daily dose of sass. Can you go one day without saying something sarcastic?”

“Have you met me?” You asked with a laugh.

Billy just leaned in and gently pressed his lips to yours. “I’m sure it will be delicious, whatever you decide to make my love. It always is.”

He knew exactly what he was doing, flashing his perfect smile, gazing at you with his beautiful deep brown eyes, he was very convincing so you waved the white flag and decided to find a recipe with plenty of chocolate in it.

Not long into your search, you stopped on a recipe for blackout chocolate cake. It’s always a risk trying a recipe for the first time and bringing it to someone’s house as opposed to something you’ve made before but the recipe sounded too good NOT to try.

Reading off the ingredients, you’ve never made a cake with some of these before but it sounded delicious with components like dark cocoa powder, coffee, buttermilk, regular cocoa powder and the ingredient you were waiting for because you asked Billy to pick it up on his way home from work today…cream cheese.

You turned on your music, put your apron on and started in on making this cake when you heard keys in the door…Billy was home. He called out to you when he walked through the door. “Lucyyyyyy, I’m home!” Oh, Billy Russo never failed to bring a smile to your face. “You home, baby?”

“I’m in the kitchen, handsome.” You replied.

He called out to you again. “I brought home pizza and cream cheese, NOT mixed together.”

Billy walked around the corner, placed the pizza on the dining room table and brought the cream cheese to you in the kitchen.

He loved coming home to your smiling face. “You saved my cake, baby. Thank you for picking this up for me.” You said.

“Anything for you, my love. You look adorable in that apron, by the way.” He said, pointing his long slender finger at you. The apron was black with white ruffles, it looked like a French maid’s outfit.

Feeling the warmth in your cheeks, you knew you were blushing and tried to shy away from him but he pulled you in flush to his chest and tilted your chin up so he could look into your eyes before he captured your lips with his.

Moving his hands up to your face, he cupped your cheeks and continued to kiss you, his tongue slipping into your mouth to tangle with yours and his fingers tracing the soft skin of your throat all the way down to your hips.

“Oh no, ya don’t.” You pulled away even though you didn’t want to. “I have to finish this tonight, the picnic is tomorrow ya know.” You said, pointing a finger into his chest.

He laughed a little as he moved his gaze up to the ceiling and back down to you. “Alright, alright. I know. Can I help, love?” He asked.

His question took you a little by surprise. Billy liked to cook, but he wasn’t really a baker, it was a sweet offer though. He seemed to be in a playful mood tonight, so it could be fun.

“Well roll those fancy sleeves up, Mr. Russo. Put an extra apron on and let’s get to it.” You said.

Billy turned around to find the only apron left that wasn’t dirty was another one of yours that had ruffles and lemons all over it. “Wait…are my aprons dirty? This is the only one left?”

You slipped the apron over his neck and your hands moved to tie it around his waist with a sly smile on your face. “I guess you’re stuck with this one, Billy.” You took a step back and eyed him from head to toe. “You look good in lemons though, baby. Love the ruffles.” You said, trying to control your laughter.

“Ok, boss I’m ready. What would you like me to do?” He asked.

You led him over to the iPad where the recipe was. “Can you mix all the dry ingredients together in a bowl for me, please?” You asked.

“Dry ingredients, I’m on it, baby.” He said.

You left him alone to read the recipe and you pulled up the recipe on your phone so you wouldn’t have to fight for the iPad. While Billy put together the dry ingredients, you whisked together the wet ingredients.

Maybe you should have paid more attention to Billy when it came to the part where he needed to add the dark cocoa powder but it completely slipped your mind and by the time you looked over at his bowl, it was too late.

It looked like he added WAY too much to the bowl because when you glanced down at the bowl, all of the ingredients mixed together were the same color as Billy’s eyes. It just looked like a bowl full of dark cocoa powder and nothing else.

“Ummmm…Billy? How much cocoa powder did you put in there?” You asked.

He gave you a side smirk like he knew he did something wrong but it was definitely on purpose.

“Well…I put in a cup and a half.” He said.

The recipe only called for ¾ of a cup.

“Billy Russo!!” You playfully scolded him like a child who took a piece of candy without asking.

“Oh I’m sorry. Was that too much?” He asked as he tried to stop the laugh that was escaping his mouth.

You glared at him and folded your arms across your chest.

“What?” He said, shrugging his shoulders. “It didn’t seem like enough, and besides no one ever died from having too much chocolate in their cake.”

You tried to stop yourself from letting out a chuckle and the not-so-innocent look he had on his face made it hard to stay mad at him.

“Billy, baking is precise. There’s a reason why everything is perfectly measured out.” You told him.

“Soooooo, you’re saying I put too much in.” He said sarcastically.

“Now who’s being a smartass.” You said.

You rested the bowl and the whisk on the counter then snaked your arms around Billy’s neck as he just continued to grin at you.

“You’re lucky you look so cute in that apron. You’re gonna need to fix it though, my love.” You gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“But that means I’ll have to start over.” He said.

You stared at him with wide eyes and a big smile. “Thank you.”

“Jeez, tough crowd…ok I’ll start over.” He said, sounding defeated.

Billy dumped out everything he had in the bowl and started over.

Keeping a closer eye on him this time, you watched as Billy carefully measured out every ingredient just like he was supposed to. Your eyes darted from your bowl to his, back and forth until he put the last ingredient in the bowl.

“You wanna watch me put the cocoa in, baby?” He asked.

“As a matter of fact, I do.” You said, biting down on your lower lip.

You wanted so badly to snap a picture of him while he was concentrating on measuring everything, wearing the lemon apron and his dress shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

He still looked so handsome, it made you love him even more because of how willing he was to help you. Maybe it was because he was getting a chocolate cake out of the deal but it was still really sweet.

“Ok, dry ingredients…done.” He said.

You poured the contents of your bowl into his and mixed everything until it was all combined. You asked Billy to grease the cake pans for you and line them with parchment paper.

While the two cakes were in the oven, it was time to make the frosting.

“What’s next?” Billy asked.

“We’re making frosting.” You told him.

He looked at you a little confused. “I thought frosting came from a can.”

“Oh baby, no. Homemade frosting is so much better and it’s super easy to make.” You told him.

You started by mixing the butter and the cream cheese in the stand-up mixer. Next, it was time to add the powdered sugar which Billy wanted to do.

“Ok, now just add it carefully because if you don’t, it goes—“

Too late.

Billy dumped in all the powdered sugar that had been measured and sifted and it went all over the place. It landed in his hair, your hair, all over the counter, on your faces. Standing there stunned, the mixer was still going, throwing powdered sugar everywhere, and both of you started cracking up laughing.

“Baby, I am SO sorry!” Billy exclaimed.

There was nothing to do except smile and laugh. “It looks like the movie Scarface in here.”

While you let the sugar settle, you added the rest of the ingredients you needed for the frosting. After mixing everything together, you turned the mixer off and dipped a finger in to taste your handy work. It really was delicious.

Grabbing a spoon out of the drawer, you gathered a little more of the frosting on the spoon so Billy could taste it. “Billy, we’ll clean up after we’re done. It’s ok.” He was frantic, trying to clean the powdered sugar off of the counter, the floor, and the mixer. “Taste this, baby.”

He stopped cleaning for a moment as you stuck the spoon in his mouth. Billy’s eyes went wide, he dropped the towel he had in his hand and pulled the spoon out of his mouth to see if there was any more frosting on it so he could lick it clean.

“Has frosting always been this easy to make?” He asked. “This is really good!” Ready with the spoon, Billy asked “Can I have some more?” He raised his eyebrows and smiled wide.

You smacked his hand away before he could get another spoonful of frosting.

“Ow!” He recoiled his hand. “Please?”

“I need it for the cake, Billy.” You said, chuckling a little.

The oven timer went off and taking a toothpick, you checked the cakes to make sure they were done in the middle. When the toothpick came out clean, you removed them from the oven and set them on the stove to cool.

Billy’s eyes darted from the cakes, to the frosting, and then to you. “Soooooo do we frost the cakes now?” He asked with excitement in his voice.

“Oh they’re too hot right now, baby. They have to cool all the way before we can frost them.” You said, inching closer to him. The gap between your bodies was small as your body was almost flush with his and you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Thank you for helping me tonight, Billy.”

“You’re welcome, sweet girl. I’m sorry I made a mess.” He said with a slight look of guilt on his face.

You joked with him. “You’re supposed to make a mess while you bake, it’s a rule I’m pretty sure.”

That seemed to make him feel better.

You couldn’t help but stare at Billy. The powdered sugar still sprinkled throughout his hair, all over his apron, the streak of flour across his cheek, and the tiniest amount of chocolate in the corner of his mouth—all of it made your heart swell. Billy didn’t know much about baking, yet he offered to help you anyway and you wanted to thank him for it.

Raking your nails against his scalp, you gazed into his intense brown eyes and pulled his face close to yours so you could press your lips to his. Gentle at first, he kissed you back then slipped his tongue between your lips, moving you slightly so your backside was against the kitchen counter.

His body pressed firmly against yours, you moaned softly against his mouth, pouted a little when he pulled away, but he continued to kiss down your neck and across your chest.

“You taste so sweet, baby.” He said with a wink. “But it looks like I missed a spot when I threw powdered sugar everywhere.”

Billy dusted a little powdered sugar on the tip of your nose and started to untie your apron, flashing you a mischievous smile.

“Well…since we don’t have anything to do until the cake cools off, let’s go get all that powdered sugar off.” He said as he finished taking your apron off and letting it fall to the floor, the deep V of your white t-shirt exposing the skin on your chest as he leaned down to kiss in between your breasts and taste the sweetness of the sugar that managed to find its way inside your shirt.

You pulled away slightly, laughing a little. “Ok, stud. I’ll go turn on the shower.”

Billy smiled a clever smile before kissing you again hungrily and whispering against your mouth.

“Who said anything about WASHING it off, baby?”

Tag List: @mindidjarin @saintmurd0ck @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @xdervyxccgh @mattmurdocksscars @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialams @idek-what-to-put @anastasianeedstoread @on-ya @k-marzolf @nutmeg17

Others that might enjoy: @fluffyprettykitty @itwasthereaminuteago @officialjanetsnakehole

If you’d like to be added to (or removed from) my tag list for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕

#billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfiction #billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfic #billy russo #tfc march challenge #thirsty for cox march challenge #tfc writing challenge

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bedtimestoriesforbrokengirls · 5 months

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The Daily Dad

Things you might want to know, for Dec 19, 2023:

23andMe confirms hackers stole ancestry data on 6.9 million users — It’s probably too late and my warnings are pointless, but please kids… don’t give something as valuable as your DNA to a for-profit company that views security as a cost-center. It’s not just the millions of 23andMe suckerscustomers who have lost control of their genetic identity… their family members are compromised, too. Maybe it’s just me, but finding out you’re actually 8% Neanderthal isn’t worth giving the Russian mob the blueprints to your ancestry.

COMIXOLOGY, RIP — I was there at the start, with my little iPhone 3GS, ready to plow through a digital comic collection in Guided View mode. I was certain Comixology was going to save the comics business, and revitalize the audience. Now here we are at the end, nothing has been achieved, and a decade of progress has disappeared into the Kndle app, never to be seen again. Fucking A.

Using the iPad Pro as a Portable Monitor for My Nintendo Switch with Orion, a Capture Card, and a Battery Pack — Okay, I eat this kind of shit up. It’s absurd on a practical level, but it’s the kind of thing I’m likely to try, just for the hell of it.

Here’s what intentionally crashing a plane for YouTube clicks gets you — To paraphrase Robin Williams: the ability to crash a plane for attention is God’s way of telling you that you’re making too much money.

Facebook Messenger Rolls Out End-to-End Encryption by Default — About fucking time, Zuck. I guess he figures the petabytes of pre-E2E conversations that they can use to train their LLM will suffice, so it’s time to let the peasants have their privacy.

Noah Hawley: How 'Twin Peaks' Influenced My Work — If you were between 16 and 30 in 1990 and had any sort of creative impulse, Twin Peaks influenced your work.

What Did It Mean That Howard the Duck Was Trapped 'in a World He Never Made'? — The ‘80s movie and modern MCU cameos don’t do justice to the comic book Howard of the 1970s. He was dark and weird and absurd and (?) sexy and grown-up in a way that other comics on the spinner rack hadn’t been in decades, and I was enthralled.

The use and misuse of evolutionary psychology in online manosphere communities: The case of female mating strategies

The Bizarre Cottage Industry of YouTube Obituary Pirates

Warner Bros. Reverses Course on 'Coyote vs. Acme' After Filmmakers Rebel

‘Now and Then,’ the Beatles’ Last Song, Is Here, Thanks to Peter Jackson’s AI — The song is very good, and the technical skill and care that went into its recovery is just as interesting. The video is just goofy fun, very much in keeping with The Beatles pre-breakup sensibilties. Overall, a delightful and unexpected treat in a year that was full of absolute bullshit.

Apple Now Selling Standalone USB-C AirPods Pro Case for $99

Texas sues Pfizer with COVID anti-vax argument that is pure stupid — I feel like most headlines featuring “Texas” or “anti-vax” should always include “pure stupid” as well.

How TV Executives Ruined Everything

Humane Debuts $700 AI Pin With 'Laser Ink Display' — Do I think this will be a success? No. It’s too niche and weird. But as a signal of life beyond the smartphone, it’s an intriguing development.

DAK and the Golden Age of Gadget Catalogs — As a household, we didn’t receive a ton of mail as a kid… we saw only a fraction of the junk that hits my physical mailbox these days. But every few months, the DAK catalog would arrive, and I knew I was in for at least a night or two of nerdy, consumerist joy. Page after page of discontinued, misconfigured, or too-oddball-for-the-general-market gadgets were waiting to tempt me with deep discounts on things no one really needed. Sheer bliss, I tell you.

How to Stop Your Kids From Ruining Your Apple Music Recommendations

Prince's Purple Rain puffy shirt is up for auction — You’ve gotta figure Prince’s clothes would fit an American Girl doll.

Audible's Moriarty podcast understands what makes Arthur Conan Doyle's arch-villain survive

The Real Reason You (Still) Watch Reality TV

#news

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saintescuderia · 2 months

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An ode to a fallen comrade, my laptop.

I’m weirdly sentimental when it comes to my laptops. I say this but I’ve only ever had two. My first was a chunk old silver MacBook Pro that was a gift from my father. It saw me all the way through those formative highschool years. I even used it at school. It was the laptop I used to give Tommy Bellamy a copy of channel.ORANGE with the fact that this version of Mac actually still had USB ports. And humanity also still used USBs. Not to mention the CD port in which I actually burnt music onto plain discs and made mixtapes for people.

I wrote countless stories on that laptop. It was where I wrote my 120k Avengers fanfiction, something I started when I was 14. Four years later and in my final year of school, I had a run of waking up at 5am to write. Never mind the fact that I was waking up at 5am to write a fic about Frank Ocean.

That laptop went through it all with me. Like old men with their cars, I named it. Stanley. Stanley was covered with homemade stickers that summed up the formative youth of my teenage years. A picture of Kendrick Lamar with his signature, a SAVE FERRIS collage, a photo of Chandler Bing (season 1), the screen card of Hugo Stiglitz from Tarantino’s Inglorious Basterds. And Frank Ocean, of course.

Stanley saw me through it all… until university where it promptly died. Or, ‘Apple died’ in which it just kept overheating, the battery life was horrible and I saw more circle spins of death in the last two weeks of use than I had in the last two years. Suffice, to say, it was time for an upgrade.

So I got another MacBook. His name was Bernie Mac which I thought clever and my first wallpaper was, indeed, a photo of the comedian. It was sleeker, didn’t have USB ports and in some odd and unexplainable way, didn’t seem as good as Stanley. Never mind that it was faster, thinner and had an actually life of a battery. I hated the keyboard, the darker colour and the fact that Bernie Mac just wasn’t Stanley.

Only after writing several novels - and one collection of poetry - creating various mixtapes (with a CD extension!), editing films, binging series and the countless PDFs I read and the essays I wrote of the two (and a half) degrees that this laptop went through did it finally die.

It’s funny. I’m not emotional. I won’t lie and say to you that the 18 year old who had to put Stanley down and admit defeat was emotional. So much so that she refused to trade it in and instead has it sat on her bookshelf beside a coffee table book on writers. In a way, that very first MacBook serves as a reminder of all the things I realised I could do. I could be a writer.

Now, this laptop before me, the one that refuses to turn on, might not hold as much sentimental weight but it’s still a nice marker of times gone by. It travelled with me across countries and it did get me through those incredibly painful and awkward years of your early 20s.

I went through lockdown with it.

What’s more, I watched my first ever F1 race on it.

So I won’t let the frustrations of the end get to me. The fact that I had to walk around with a charger because 100% battery didn’t mean anything. Or the fact that it would overheat and kick the fan into overdrive and it sounded like an airplane. Or the fact that it’s died when I decided to start becoming a little more serious with this ‘I want to be a writer’ business and now I have to type on my iPad like I’m Toto Wolff in Drive to Survive. Maybe that will make this whole March 30 Day challenge all the more memorable - I did it despite the fact that my laptop literally fucking died after three days! What’s more than that though the three days into this, it died literally the day before university starts.

It’s okay, though. I’ve already ordered another laptop from Apple that should be coming next week. And maybe that’s just what I need; a fresh start with a fresh laptop to bring in the next chapter of adventures. Even though you can still trust that the first song that’ll play from that yet-to-be-named MacBook is finna be Pyramids.

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sumire-no-nikki · 8 months

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September Finally

August is over. What a relief. August is a restless month. The sunshine has lost its novelty, the weather is no longer appreciated and we’re all caught in the in between. The summer bounty has started to spoil. The desire for something new has become more urgent, and it’s all starting to feel like there’s nothing that can be done but let time pass. I think that might be the worst part of it—the passivity. August demands endurance. September provides release.

As I’m typing this, the sky murky, gray with rain filled clouds. A sign of a promising weekend and a refreshing month to come.

What have I been up to this month? I’m flipping through my planner and wow, I have been busy! Most notable thing accomplished is finalising my schedule for the rest of the year, which is very exciting, because now that everything is decided all that’s left to do is wait for them to happen. I can’t wait!!

I am also happy to announce I am out of my reading funk!! I read a couple of books this past month—all outside my comfort zone (plus points for that!) I tend to favor literary fiction, historical fiction and mystery novels, but this month I exclusively read YA fantasy. I have a handful of YA/fantasy books because once upon a time I thought I was falling in love with this girl who liked the genre. Pulling my signature “I-Will-Read-What-You-Like-To-Read-Because-I-Love-You” move™️ I bought these books, eager to get to know this girl’s world. But without going too deep into it for now, I very fortunately realized that relationship wasn’t going to work at all and all I have left of that time are these books that are totally outside of my usual taste. Ah, silly me.

Books read this month:

We Were Liars - E. Lockhart

The Impossible Girl - Lydia Kang (okay this is historical fantasy… so it’s only partially out of my comfort zone lol)

Sky in the Deep - Adrienne Young

Vicious - V.E. Schwab

All these reads got a 3+ out of 5 rating by the way. They’re all solid but I also don’t feel a sense of attachment to any of them so I ended up giving them away. I’m glad I read them but it is also a relief to have tidied up my collection a little bit.

Now, what shall I name my Snow Queen pothos babies? They were sitting in a propagation jar for ages and I finally potted them. The mama plant had some root rot issues so I had to save it by chopping it up. When it gets fuller, I’m going to chop it some more and maybe finally make my pothos medley dream come true. I have five different kinds of pothos in my plant family and I really want to experiment and combine them in one pot.

Speaking of plants, I have to trim the dining room plants for the fourth time this year. They’re growing out of control. I’m going to do that later today while listening to some podcasts.

Oh! Yes, podcasts! I come to you with a recommendation. My usual podcasts are True Crime (yes, I am one of those people I’m afraid), scary stories, history and politics. This one is a Sci-Fi fiction podcast (so I’ve continued the theme of staying outside my comfort zone in August it seems). Anyway, I got an ad for a Spotify Podcast called Case 63 a couple of days ago while listening to Disappeances by Sarah Turney (another good podcast). The ad was compelling enough to get me to check it out and I’m so happy I did. It’s a really short 10-episode story about a time traveler trying to prevent the end of the world. How original! (I am being sarcastic lol). But seriously, it actually got me pacing my kitchen while nervously chewing on a banana. It’s pretty good. I’m not into Sci-Fi at all. I’ve probably interacted with like, four different Sci-Fi media in my entire life but this one was an excellent listen. I’m interested in listening to more similar podcasts. I’ll remember to find more this month.

I also bought a new iPad Pro and the matching Magic Keyboard in August. I upgraded from an 11-inch to a 12.9-inch model and the difference is great, especially when I have the split screen setup going on. And the Magic Keyboard is definitely better than the Apple Keyboard Folio I had. It comes with a trackpad so it’s basically a MacBook with a touch screen. I was going to upgrade my MacBook too but they didn’t have the one I wanted and it isn’t urgent, so I just stuck with these two purchases. I’m very content. I put an autumn themed wallpaper on the new iPad (can you feel my intense yearning for autumn???) and I’ve just been setting it up little by little.

This entry’s music highlight is from a band called Half Moon Run from Canada (insert Louise Belcher “enough with Canada!!” GIF here lol) and I may or may not see them live soon. It depends on my schedule. This song is the first track from their newest album which is fucking incredible. Somehow when I listen to the album I feel like I’m back in 2013? Yet at the same time this album feels a lot more up to date than their older works. I don’t know how to explain it. I think it’s the vocalist’s voice. It’s very… 2010s emo/punk/indie sounding. When the chorus of this song rolls in I can’t help but bop my head and sing along especially when he goes “… that weight you carry with yaaaa!!” I love it.

Alright. That’s it for now. I leave you with my orange boy tickling the ivories and knocking all my sheet music off the music rack because, you know, orange cat behaviour. And of course my eldest boy is being the mellow gentleman that he is, just lounging in his “penthouse apartment” (because it’s at the top of their cat tree lol).

Smell you later!

#diary #sumire-no-nikki

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20thcentwriter · 24 days

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Blog update!! (But mostly a rant bc I'm having a panic attack)

(I want to preface this rant by saying I'm a post highschool 19 year old graduate that still lives at home with my parents. I'm working two jobs and pay my parents to help with bills. Also I'm tagging this with Ewan because I need advice I'm sorry)

Hi so major problem here I completely shattered my iPad which is basically my life and Im honestly kinda fucked right bc I don't know what to do. I have no clue when I'll be able to get a new iPad and my ipad atm is usable but i can barely see because of how shattered it got.

Thankfully I have tumblr downloaded on my TracFone so I'm not completely fucked and I still use the app. but it's going to be a little harder to make wallpapers because I can't get the subscription to PicsArt plus now bc I need to save for the new ipad. I was literally going to get a new subscription that was about to go out on Thursday. It also sucks bc making wallpapers relax me and I can't even do that

My current iPad is a 6th Gen and I want to get a refurbished one from Amazon bc it's the cheapest in my price range but my mom told me in the past not to bc its better to buy a new one

I also don't know if I'll be able to save all my data on my iPad. It has so many pictures and edits that I don't want to lose. I think it'll be okay because it's an I cloud account but I don't know.

The truly fucked thing too rn is that it's 2 am and I can't even talk to my mom about it. She essentially gave me that iPad in 2021 and now I feel like she'll hate me and that I'm irresponsible. I really didn't mean to shatter it and I'm really careful bc of my horrible luck

My dad said my mom won't be mad at me but I have an anxiety disorder and my brain goes to the worst possible situation

I'm pissed that I took the iPad case off and it fell back down and shattered.I EVEN SAW IT SHATTER.

I'm going to try and be hopeful. I might take a melatonin tonight to calm myself so I can actually sleep. I already have anxiety about melatonin but I can suck it up for tonight.

Thank you to anyone who read this rant. I'm honestly just as shattered as my fucking ipad rn and I'm probably going to go and read some fanfic on my crap phone and try to calm myself down

#rant #personal rant #ewan #ewan mitchell #ewan nation #ewanverse #aemond targaryen

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wild-wombytch · 6 months

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Their credit card code ???? That's a recipe for disaster ToT

Hi, anon, thank you for dropping by, I hope you had a nice weekend and are having a nice day 🌻✨

Unfortunately, yes, you read that right 💀

My mother really screams inside when she sees that, and it's multiple times a week, if not multiple times per days sometimes...

The disasters are already happening, but I kinda hope it gives these parents a reality check :

(for the Independent article below, the dad says he doesn't know whether he should be mad or laugh...moids will be moids, no matter the age, I guess)

(of course the parents blame FB rather than their own parenting. Like FB obviously needs to die but these specific events wouldn't have happened if the parents actually watched their kids and didn't give them access to credit cards' functioning)

...So yeah, some people really don't think about the logical consequences of things, as long as it keeps their kids busy and not crying or screaming or running rather than... you know...actually parenting them, playing with them, giving them plushies, going outdoor with them...etc I can't say I'm surprised, when the French gov literally had to make an ad for this specific kind of parents to stop posting pictures of theirs kids online and then making Pikatchu faces when they learn it's spread and sold in ped0 communities for some males to jerk off on the beach day where little Emily is in swimwear...

...tbh I don't get why so many people have kids if they hate spending time with them so much. Or more exactly, I guess they do so because The Straight Must Have Babies™ like they "must" have a big dumb house that leave them indebted and a big dumb car that gives them even more debts and a dog and must have a depressive breakdown after 8y of vety unhappy life together like it's no big deal because it's heterosexual culture and idea of success and fulfilled life and nobody questions it. And that's just one of the many criticisms I'd have about parents these days, because sometimes (often) I see things that make me want to nuke them and then myself.

For real, these neglected kids will grow up even more messed up than the average Tumblr population did. Then they'll vote. And will be our nurses when we'll be old. And they'll struggle a lot with empathy and resources saving with the climate crisis.

Anyway, that's bright mood Sunday for me apparently lmaooo Hope I didn't make you lose faith in humanity. It just sucks that I notice parents who raise their kids well and interact with them more than shitty to downright abusive parents when I go outside. But then again, Brittany might be an advanced case, because we're dealing with cultural traumas that created issues with alcoholism, violence, mental health issues, weird distance between kids and their parents, and so on.

#ask #When I'll be old and these kids will grow to be Ratched nurses I'll hit these parents with my cane and yell “I told you so”#parenting #child neglect #technology #heteropatriarchy #Tañ ha Gerioù #also the Brittany thing is another can of worms. Maybe I'll talk about it more one day but there are so many things that are socially #fucked up here

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a-dell · 10 months

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Tablet and Studying

Hi! I'm Adel, a Food Technology student. Today, I'm gonna talk about how getting a tablet affected my grades and changed the way I study (completely).

So, I know that Ipads are kind of overhyped. Like, I've seen youtubers such as studyquill and fayefilms talks about overhyped study trend and Ipad is included in both videos together with things such as fancy stationary.

Coming from a childhood where I watch youtubers using fancy things such as sharpies, mildliners, and tombow brush pen (yes in my country sharpies are sooo expensive, they're very uncommon and for the price of 1 sharpie I can get like 10 regular markers) I used to think that I need those fancy things to recreate what they're making. Until I actually saved money and bought the exact same things, I still can't recreate it lmao. So I know that I don't need fancy things and I can just utilize what I already have.

A little background information, my GPA in 1st semester was hella good, it was 3.97. But then I had to take academic leave during my 2nd and 3rd semester to work full time. Coming back from 1 year of academic leave, I can say I forgot how to study :D My GPA falls to 3.56 real quick. It was drastic and I had a pretty bad mental breakdown, considering I used to have such high GPA.

The next semester, the grades were dropping again as the classes transitioned from hybrid into fully offline class + I am still working full time. I had a rough time trying to balance work and studying. My GPA was 3.33! However at this point I started to get chill about it, but I know I have to go back on track (my target is to maintain my overall GPA to be above 3.5).

During the 1st semester, I was studying at least 3 hours/day and it can go up to 12 hours/day during exam season. I utilized traditional note taking, but I do type down my notes sometimes. But mostly I use pen and paper. However, I can't continue this method of studying on my 4th semester because I am working full time. I have no time to write down my notes with hand, that's why I upgraded my laptop. I started typing all of my notes down. I also bought a pen tablet to handwrite organic chemistry answers (because handwriting on paper and digitalizing it during exam is sooo stressful, might as well get a pen tablet). But then this method isn't that useful since my grades were dropping.

So in the 5th semester I started to type out everything I hear during lecture and stopped using the pen tablet. At this time I stopped bringing pen and paper, I only bring my laptop. I only used the pen tablet once during the final exam and I don't feel the need to use it anymore, so I sold it. However this method also doesn't work for me because during class I would just open a bunch of games and started playing instead of listening to the lecture. So using laptop to study also not really helpful for me. My laptop is big and heavy so my back was hurting as well. At this point I know I won't be able to bring my laptop everyday to campus and I might need to buy a tablet. Not only for health reason, but this time I really need to find new method of studying since other digital methods are not working for me. I feel like tablet would also motivates me (but at this point I'm still not sure with this).

So, for my 20th birthday, I bought myself a Xiaomi Pad 5 with 8GB RAM and 256GB of internal storage. I wanted to get an Ipad so that I can use the goodnotes app, but I can't afford it. Learning from my past experience, I know I can still use alternatives to achieve the same thing (study, ofc). So I went for the cheaper version and hands down, this was the best big girl purchase I've ever made to this day. I started exploring different apps for note taking and eventually bought the stylus as well. I used to use Samsung notes on my laptop but I can't seem to install it in my tablet, so I use an app called Flexcil, which I recommend! I started writing down important notes directly on the lecture presentation. I record every lecture and started engaging in class whenever I can. At first, it was really hard because I'm not the type of person that likes "attention" in class and I don't like to raise my hand because people will look at me. I was scared of being judged. But after I started answering and asking questions to the lecturer, it became much easier for me to understand the material.

I mean I do play games sometimes during class and I don't feel like writing. In those days, I only record the lecture and highlight important points. I usually ask my friend for their notes on the day I don't feel like studying in class. I mean, there would always be good and bad days, right?

Fast forward to midterm exam, it became easier to study because all I have to do when reviewing is to read my handwritten notes. If there's anything I don't understand, I just simply replay the lecturer recording. I started asking my friend for tutoring and help. If none of my friend is able to help me, I will seek help from the lecturer. This helped me so much and my grades were going up like crazy. My GPA this semester was 3.92 (!!!).

It's really crazy considering I was going from 3.33 to 3.92, a 0.59 increase! Took me a while to find this method but I am grateful that I am able to make it work. My big girl purchase feels so worth it. Although I believe that this can be achieved by printing out the handouts and jot down notes using a pen, but a tablet definitely helped me so much since adding pictures and definitions is just one google search away.

I definitely did not expect that getting a tablet would change me so much. But yeah, it definitely gives me confidence boost and motivates me to study more. Making this type of digital note helped me focus (because I have to take down notes with stylus instead of typing) and understand the materials, making me able to engage with the lecturer during class. Being active in class helps me retain information better, resulting in better grades.

If you want to step up your studying game, you definitely have to try to engage during class because I really do think this was the biggest turning point in my studying life.

Prepare handouts before class (read if possible).

Take down notes directly during class (important points, don't forget to record the lecture to help during review)

Engage in class activities

Try to answer questions and ask if you don't understand (even if it means your lecturer has to re-explain the whole part, you can ask them outside class hours)

Get what you need to get in order to motivates you to study

Take care of yourself!! (eat good food, good sleep, drink water)

I hope my story can give you my point of view of using a tablet for studying.

#study #tablet #ipad #studyblr #grades #studying #studygram #study notes #food technology #university #student

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pidgecv · 6 months

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pre-bed thought dump so i can actually sleep without too many thought swirling around and clogging up my brain (my friends r all asleep so i can’t spam them instead 😔)

i miss turtle posting btw i’ve decided to do more turtle posting again (probs starting tomorrow w some sketches i’ve been hoarding or smth)

man my tumblr activity graph is gonna be wack anyways i finished reading orv, cried a few times, i’m emotionally devastated but at least FINALLY the boy is implied to be back. I have dnd at 9:30am and i have NOT told my parents (worse case i’ll walk there) yet i am. so tired. but my brain is zooming. i can not read very well. but my brain is ZOOMING.

here is a collection of some of my fav late orv chapters (a lot of them aren’t included bc i got tired of taking screenshots every damn chapter istg) ((also i read most of the novel ages ago now so this is from my recent “so the nightmare begins again” bout of hyperfixation))

i think i saved a fuck ton of lines i liked from some of the earlier chapters on my ipad but i don’t think i set my ipad to nightlight earlier and i’m not up for getting blue light biden blasted rn

i’ll go back to turtle posting pretty soon i think since last time i hyperfixated on orv i speedran the stages of hyperfixation and this time i’m even out of novel to read. i have reached my very own conclusion. my phone is lagging to hell when i type it’s taking my letters around a second to appear on the screen but i’m not exactly typing any slower so it backlogs and i can just sit there and watch the words be typed if i go fast enough lollll.

i’ve gotta draw raph in my au man. i gotta make him interesting bc i love him he is literally wonderful i just really suck at drawing him and leo bc rise is an artstyle that’s a total 180 from the stuff i’ve drawn previously. i continue to amass more art styles, soon no one will be safe. I just want to do them justice. they’re not the main character but they’re important and i feel bad for not fleshing them out well yet. i want to write them well and i want to write them with importance. i want every character i write to be with a purpose. to have potential for their own stories. i don’t want them to be hollow side characters, and the first step to achieving that is giving them designs i love. i love to look at and draw. i’ve achieved that with donnie and mikey and i’m starting to with leo but i’m so intimidated by raph because as important as he is as a character to the story i want to write he is by far the hardest for me to draw in the way that i think fits. in the way that i want. because i know what i want in his design and character, but i can’t quite get it right in the context of the artstyle i want to draw my au in. might have to bend some of the stylistic rules i set for myself to get him to work unfortunately.

#cvsays

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dreamingsushi · 11 months

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Till the End of the Moon - Episode 12

Last episode we started going through the first trial to destroy the evil bone. I mean, they didn’t explicitly say so, however as we know, they entered a dram and the first key is supposed to be obtained through a dream, I would say it’s only a question of adding one and one together, right? Susu is now a princess, sister to Xiao Lin, while Tantai Jin is the god of war and Ye Bingchang is entrusted into his care (not really sure about their actual relationship). To put it briefly.

And obviously, as soon as I start the episode, my Ipad dies on me and I can’t connect to Youtube on the hotel’s TV. I guess it’s a sign I must go to the gym and stop being lazy... But I really wanted to watch it now TT__TT Back, all cleaned up and aching everywhere, but so ready for this.

Between to fights, Mingye (Tantai Jin) pays one last homage to his fallen comrades. When his wife (or betrothed? Or something else, I’m not really sure, but Ye Bingchang)comes to take care of him since he’s still injured from the previous battle, he says he would rather be alone. Seems to me that he isn’t too much into her. When the fighting resumes, the lord of demons appears on the same carriage that Tantai Jin was riding at the beginning of the drama, before time travel happened, and he can also wield the same powers. At first, I thought it might be himself, like some sort of alter ego, after all the hardest fights are always the ones against oneself. However, the masked man’s voice isn’t the same as Tantai Jin (and I would know because I’m not a big fan of it, sorry actor, but you’re still great). I’m not discarding the idea for now, it could be on purpose for a plot twist, after all the writers of this series seems to be rather keen on them. Anyways. Mingye wasn’t fully strong enough to defeat the demon lord and ends up falling down in the Mo River after being pierced through his chest. Sang Jiu (Susu) finds him first, but Tian Huan (Ye Bingchang) pushes her away. Even in this “life” she’s very useless and can only cry about Mingye not waking up. Upon noticing that the enemy is going after Mingye, Sang Jiu tells Tian Huan to come with her and they take along the unconscious Mingye. She takes them to a place where he could heal and cast a protective shield. Useless lady doesn’t want to be left alone, in case they find them, but Sang Jiu is going to lead them away. So far, only Tantai Jin is a little more different than is usual self. The other characters don’t seem to have majorly changed.

Tian Huan is worried about what is going to happen to her were Mingye to die. Still as selfish. When she uses her spiritual powers, it seems it does more harm than good. Behind the two of them is an ancient criystal, a very rare and precious thing. She decides that she should take it to save Mingye’s life, anyways it should be an honour for the clam tribe that it was used to save the god of war. So she steals the crystal and gives it to Mingye. Magic Magic. It’s causing everything to crumble under the river’s waters, endangering everyone. She faints. The elder is very mad about it and wants to take back the crystal. When he’s about to kill Mingye doing so, Sang Jiu interpose herself to protect him and says that she’s the one who brought him there. She begs that they don’t kill him. She says that she’ll take responsibility for it, but there’s no way she can make it up to save all those who are going to die. But she decides to sacrifice herself so the people could be protected and she gives away her divine essence to replace the crystal.

Her dad feels guilty because he thinks she did it because he hit her. Her brother (Xiao Lin) says that she grew up and did it to protect her people. Her father won’t let things as is, since she lost her divine essence, she won’t be able to ascend to immortality anymore.

Mingye is surprised to be still alive, but he doesn’t have much time to think about what happened. Sang Jiu’s dad comes in. He’s very angry and accuses Mingye of stealing the cristal. He says that saying thank you to his daughter won’t be enough, she lost all of her future perspectives because of him, so he wants him to marry her and take her to the immortal realm where he would protect her.

Her brother isn’t too keen on the wedding and tells SAng Jiu that he’ll convince their dad to cancel it is she doesn’t want to. But she signs the contract. Even though she knows they never met and he won’t love her, she likes him and wants to get closer to him. When Mingye comes to take Sang Jiu, Sang You threatens to come for him if he doesn’t treat Sang Jiu properly. Mingye promises he will. But I think her life up there won’t be easy, with Tian Huan crushing on the god of war and all the rumours that he had to marry her because he was blackmailed. However, I enjoyed how pretty are their cothing for the wedding. It’s really gorgeous, so far they are doing very well in this drama costume wise. I guess Mingye isn’t so happy about his wedding, as he delays the moment he’s going home to his bride. I mean, he was kind of coerced to it, so it’s kind of understandable. Just a little sad for Sang Jiu who’s waiting for nothing because he never goes to see her that night.

The maids make fun of Sang Jiu for being curious about everything and being amazed at everything she sees. Mingye scolds them for not telling her that she shouldn’t eat some fruit because it tastes bad (bitter I guess based on her face expression). When she sees him, she goes after him and apologizes for falling asleep while waiting for him. Then he tells her that since this wedding wasn’t out of their own will, they are only spouses in name, so they should establish three rules between them: first not interfere with each other’s life, second not to use her title to bully other people and third that he’ll divorce her when she meets some she likes and wants to marry. Then he leaves her to attend to military duties.

Sang Jiu asks the maids what are the hobbies of Mingye, but all he ever does is training and fighting wars. Suitable for the god of war if I must say. One of the maids slips up, talking about Tian Huan and how she tries to get closer to Mingye, but the other one prevents her from saying too much. Sang Jiu figures out she can’t be lazy anymore and hopes she can be admitted as an exception to Mingye’s troops if she trains hard enough at wielding weapons. That she could be with him more and maybe help him during battles. Now I understand the relationship between Tian Huan and Mingye. Tian Huan’s father was the previous god of war, Mingye’s brother in arms, and when he died he entrusted Tian Huan into his care. And there I thought they might be married or engaged. It shows how much my Chinese regressed... Sang Jiu wants to visit Tian Huan, but she’s still unconscious so it would be better to wait for a better time.

And that’s it for episode twelve. I was afraid that the dream would stop just as Sang Jiu sacrificed her divine essence. I thought she would die, but I’m glad we have little bit of time in this alternate life. It’s nice that for once Tantai Jin isn’t as miserable. I can’t wait to discover what’s next! Hopefully not too much of the jealousy trope between Sang Jiu and Tian Huan. I don’t want to see another Susu and Sujin situation here.

#till the end of the moon #luo yunxi #bai lu #deng wei #chen duling #xianxia #xianxia drama #costume drama #cdrama #c-drama #chinese drama #drama review #drama recap #drama reaction

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feuqueerfire · 1 month

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A Killer Paradox Live Blogging

Might be ill-advised to start this right now because there are 2 days and a few hours left of March and I'm someone who wants to finish series that month I started them/not have carry-over. I also have a bunch of stuff to do this weekend, so might not be able to watch 8 hours of show rip.

I've been anticipating this since early last year back when it was Murder Dieary and I heard about it on Certified Noonas 2023 show releases where they mentioned it's by the same director of Strangers From Hell, which I really liked. I've heard meh things about it though, so I'm trying to keep my expectations low and hoping to be surprised lol

Ep 1 (Mar 29)

I too feel directionless and aimless is life <3

ah, parallels before he hammers that man's head

the blind woman walking by and not realizing why her dog is behaving strangely since she can't see the dude or the dead body was really good

fun to make him be a cheater and a thief who's used to getting away with his misdeeds or crimes

oh, another person died that night? is it the old man?

are we gonna have a killer and a detective sort of dynamic? Love that

so the dude that our guy Lee Tang killed first hit that old man in the head with a brick or whatever? Makes sense since I think the synopsis was that Lee Tang can tell who is evil or something

ohhh Lee Tang killed a serial killer mans. I knew that from the synopsis but didn't expect it to be some guy with a hidden identity lol

I was not expecting to see sex and topless woman in here

that was so disgusting with the hands

dog and hammer

So the insect over the hammer meant that the detective didn't see Tang take it out right?

Ep 2 (Mar 29)

hearing people be glad that the man he killed is dead, even hearing his mother say that the murder was "God's retribution" oh

omg ?! so the girl with the dog wasn't actually blind and indeed was Lee Tang and the murdered guy?

Is he gonna kill her?

Detective Jang is trying to find the police officer who killed his father (I'm guessing his dad was a cop too?)

So that hammer is with the woman, I was wondering what's up with that but I guess she came back and picked it up?

oh, she's so fucked up and fun, I love her

ah, as expected, he aims to kill her

but extremely little planning my guy, doing this in broad daylight and leaving evidence like fingerprints in blood. that's not surprising though, he's clearly in a tight spot

she was doing research on Lee Tang, ig it'll help the Detective make the connection

and she also had a body in her backyard wowie (as the synopsis said he had a knack for killing evil people)

I like all the little scenarios of him imagining different situations or him seeing his victims' faces/bodies

ah, dog licking over all the blood really saving Lee Tang's ass rn ig?

ahh the other friend did know Tang stole his iPad

he killed the two teenagers by himself and dragged them to that pit or what?

oh somebody else helped him? Telegram OnlyForHeroes?

I read some people's opinions and people were saying it's slow and also gets sadder + some other old guy is introduced? idk but so far, I'm quite liking it and it's not that slow for me for now (esp cuz I'm watching 1.1-1.2x speed lol)

Ep 3 (Mar 30)

Yeo-ok backstory woah

oh, those fuckers who Tang killed raped that girl who then committed suicide? and his mother godddd what a fucking useless pos, was making a scene at the girl's funeral? kys

plss not the female part-timer being like yep Tang broke the "welcome!" sound thing at the door when she even told Tang that if it breaks one day, know that she herself did it loll

how does the detective who quit and his family relate to this? Also, Nan-gam? Is the name of this show smth Nangam?

oh this Telegram Heroes was also helping the girl's father to kill these high school fuckers?

The times where the reality blends with imagination or memories is so good

The bag with hammer and evidence got thrown into the river by the thief?

I stopped watching this last night with like 8 mins left of the ep lol

nooo man don't kill yourself, you're supposed to give Tang answers

oh the pit was just on the other side

whoo is this batman/hero telegram guy

Lots and lots of shows have a story of a young girl being raped, not seeing justice as the law is useless, and committing suicide and then having a (usually male) relative take justice into their own hands (most recently, the Sign with the brother aiming to avenge her). I get why they do it, it's a scenario that's very easy to empathize with and the first part of the scenario (girl is raped but the perpetrators get off scot-free) is very common but it's so sad every time.

Also... I wish the girl wouldn't kill herself every time... like the pattern being that she's sympathetic because she was innocent/pure/naive and also died too soon is like yes true, but girls and women who are sexually active/not "pure" or "good" still deserve empathy and the only action after being raped isn't that they must take their own life

Ep 4 (Mar 30)

I read 1 line about ep 4 from the on-air and it's that the detective gets fired or smth

Heroes killed some office dude, I guess he'd done something bad

wait what? the batman shirt guy, is it the same as guy who was wearing glasses + batman shirt during convo with the father? but he was doing a broadcast discussing the cases or whatever, I don't think the real Heroes dude would do that... who is this guy and how does Detective Jang know him?

what does Detective Jang know about this batman kid?

So much mystery around Batman and Detective

and is the helmet guy with Batman in any way related to the helmet guy who stole Lee Tang's bag? don't remember his face

next up on this Batman's hitlist: Detective Jang wtf this beating

but also Detective seems to know about Batman getting other people to do murders? (like urging the father to kill those boys)

lol hidden cameras

He says he's Roh Bin (Robin) but he's posing more like Batman

Lee Tang has already met the second person who worked with Roh Bin (the father? he's dead now tho) and he says they should hope to never meet the first person...

he's just talking around with the OnlyForHeroes sweater?

oh this is kinda fun, I didn't realize it was actually Lee Tang who killed the prosecutor in the beginning of the ep but I guess he's listening to his powers now

bruh, wait, was it Lee Tang who came to Roh Bin's house with the helmet? I'm so bad at recognizing faces since he didn't have his hair down the same way...

oh I just rechecked and indeed it is him...

so Jang is kicked out (what's his first name even) and also he has the dog who might lead him somewhere

and Lee Tang is going around killing people

Song Chon cop - I guess this is the new guy people mention when being like they didn't care about the old guy's story in the second half

So I'm guessing the first person who worked with Roh Bin is also the person (cop?) that Detective (well not anymore) Jang is searching for

I feel like the story in the next 4 eps is just supposed to be about Lee Tang murdering people, Jang doing some shady stuff to chase him because he's no longer a detective + also trying to uncover the cop who maybe did something bad to his father (he's bedridden in hospital now), and ig Song Chon is also pursuing Lee Tang from the cop side (unless idk, Song Chon is the missing cop who was Roh Bin's first partner and is the dude Jang is looking for). So idk how it goes sideways enough for people to say it's bad writing or whatever. we'll see ig

Ep 5 (Mar 30)

oh same florist girl as before?

is she paranoid that all the men have seen her video online?

what's gonna be her place in this story? Is she the one who got pregnant with the prof or was that a diff person? Is the person/people who are putting up her video gonna be murdered? Is she gonna be a love interest?

my facial recognition is so bad bruh, so the guy who was writing in the diary is the same guy she saw today (+ is he suspicious... idk). is the fiance of the dude who he was on a date with the same as Lee Tang's sister or anything? i guess not since he's having dinner with her in Busan while Lee Tang's sister was giving some info to the cops in Daejeon or wherever

so is this friend really also having his videos spread? is he being genuine? i'm suspicious of him...

ah, indeed, seems like he's got some other motivations aghhhhh

I hope Lee Tang's gonna kill him soon, please, I can't deal

Lee Tang being more and more haunted by his murders

noooo "fall in love" ?!?! D: Gyeong-a no

auughhhhhh fuck

that motherfucker killed her fr?!?!

parallels of opening the doors and such but also can't believe the other 2 cops just let Song Chon just walk past them when he must have exited out of the apartment they just came out of, like what???

Ep 6 (Mar 30)

there are just so many open threads, like Lee Tang (+ Roh Bin) vs suspended Detective vs ex-cop and the guy in the elevator as well

this Song Chon isn't like as fun to follow because he's just a dickhead, like why is he terrorizing the rude teenagers like that, they don't deserve this

I guess the point of him is that like we're gonna want to take him down more than we hate either of the other 2 main characters?

Who are the people Roh Bin is working with? people granted by the grandfather of the girl who was killed?

oof, Lee Tang crying, saying he's scared

what even happened this ep? I'm okay with a slow ep where we explore the characters more or find out more but it feels like we barely learned anything except for Song Chon's tendency to just murder ppl and like i don't care about him enough, you know

Oh, now I get that the book is apparently significant because the mosquito drank blood from the prosecutor and Lee Tang killed it in that book (+ probably has his own fingerprints in that book?), so the prosecutor and Lee Tang would be connected that way. I wouldn't have realized w/o the r/kdrama on-air comment tbh.

Ep 7 (Mar 31)

Song Chon is arrested but will he remain that way? like idk what the actual point of this show is, is it too early for him to be dealt with? bc the focus is so much on him, I can't tell if they want to bring him back later for most Song Chon vs Detective or if we're supposed to finally turn out attention back to Lee Tang

nvm, he's already evaded the cops as expected useless fucks

agh, I get why the story now has the two of them as Wanted in relation to Song Chon but it's still frustrating

the way i like don't care about what's happening like this storyline just isn't the reason I came into the series for and although that can be fine (story doesn't have to focus on only 1 aspect or character), this isn't hooking me

Ep 8 (Mar 31)

It just seems like Roh Bin is gonna die and I saw a comment in the on-air that Detective hides Lee Tang's location or something

so did Detective end up shooting Roh Bin? Or was that Song Chon's gunshot?

lol good thing Song Chon killed the Detective's dad what an evil pos

0.1 second of Roh Bin mourning

woahh Roh Bin you're my fave character and what a mastermind after all, fr had plans A - Z

Lee Tang's luck to have a blank shot him

Ah, poor's Roh Bin corpse getting caught up in the fire

Lee Tang's luck that the book with his fingerprints also burns away

Ah, Lee Tang got cleared

oh, Lee Tang's back to killing?

Pretty good last episode actually since all the storylines merged and a satisfying enough ending.

Overall:

Really enjoyed the first few episodes (up to ep 4), then eps 5 - 7 were kinda meandering and it felt like not much was happening (that I cared about anyway), then ep 8 was engaging again. In the second half, we focused a lot on Song Chon and his story to me wasn't as engaging as Lee Tang's and we also strayed away from Lee Tang and his thoughts.

I liked the fun shots and the imagination scenes, it was interesting.

I feel like the show didn't have many twists and turns, like it was all a bit anti-climactic, which dampened it.

From a comment on the On-Air thread, I learned that apparently he's also part of the Wooga squad and I searched up the rest of the people and I've actually watched 1 thing from each actor: Choi Woosik (A Killer Paradox), Park Seo Joon (Midnight Runners), and Park Hyun Sik (Happiness). I didn't watch Hwarang so technically haven't seen V act but I did stan BTS in 2017 so I'll count it. Don't know who Peakboy is though lol

Had high hopes because of the concept + Strangers From Hell director but that show was a lot more atmospheric and insular and the character focuses were more engaging.

Rating: 6/10

#ep by ep commentary

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