#I don’t think it would be so bad if they didn’t schedule me Monday mornings after Sunday nights

[leilakisakabiri]

request: Hi can you do where the reader is wearing Gavis hoodie and she accidentally stains it and starts freaking out. Thank uuu and i love ur writing

I Got You (Gavi)

Summary: You need Gavi to come help you after you get yourself into a bad situation.

Warning(s): None

A/N: Thank you so much for the request and for your support! Requests are open. Currently working on The Promises We Keep Pt 2. Also, guys if I haven't done your request yet, don't worry, it probably means it's gonna be a long one.

Word Count: 3.1k+

Masterlist

It was a Saturday night in Barcelona, and you were holed up in your room, feet tucked under you, a knitted blanket over your shoulders as you read over the words in front of you for the hundredth time.

While the city was alight with people getting drinks, dancing, and laughing, you silenced your phone, closed your blinds, and put your headphones on to quiet any outside noises. 

You had decided to stay in this weekend, caught up in writing an essay for your criminal law class that was worth 50% of your grade. Safe to say you did not take it lightly. You had been hunched over your computer for the last nine hours, brain numb and fingers aching as you had tried to come up with a thesis and strong argument for your essay. You had blocked out this weekend to finish the essay, letting everyone know ahead of time not to contact you unless it was an emergency, including Gavi. 

Gavi had been gone for the last couple of days, traveling around Europe for the last leg of La Liga, and he had been adamant about spending as much time with you as he could once he got back - before his summer schedule kicked off. However, that hope was quickly cut short when you informed him you most likely wouldn’t be able to see him at all this weekend due to you being stuck finishing your essay. 

Although he had tried to convince you to change your mind, bribing you with the idea of endless cuddles and then promising to be as silent as possible while you wrote when his first idea didn’t work, you relented, knowing that having him around would be a major distraction, one that you couldn’t afford. 

“I’m sorry Pablo I don’t think I can this weekend. What about Monday?” You asked hopefully. 

He sighed over the phone, his face pulling into a frown, “I can’t. We’re leaving Monday morning for France.”

You bit on your lip, feeling bad, “I’m sorry I just really need to focus this weekend.” 

He nodded, “I get it. It just sucks. I wanted to see you at least once before I’m gone again. But it’s fine – I’ll survive.” He replied dramatically. 

You grinned, “Well I’ll miss you Pablito.” 

“I already miss you.” 

The smile on your face only grew as your heart warmed at his words, “I’ll text you if anything changes. Have a great game, I’ll be watching.” 

He gave you a wink, “Damn gotta show off now that my girls watching.” 

You giggled at him, “Bye Pablo.” 

He mocked your tone playfully, “Bye Y/n.” 

That was last week, and now you were nose deep in your essay, textbooks scattered around you as you looked for possible quotes to strengthen your thesis. You had been so busy scanning the words on the page that you hadn’t noticed your phone buzzing non-stop next to you. 

Once you saw the glow of your phone screen curiosity got the better of you and you flipped it around seeing you had eight missed calls from your best friend. 

Your eyebrows knitted in confusion, it was almost two in the morning, she would for sure be at a club right now, happily dancing the night away with your friends, so why was she consistently calling you? 

The phone buzzed once again and this time you were quick to answer. 

“Hello, Gia, what’s going on?” 

Her voice was slurred on the other end, but you could sense the panic regardless, “Y/n? I don’t know where I am, I was with the others but then I went to the bathroom, and I then couldn’t find anyone anymore. And this guy won’t leave me alone-”

“Gia, where are you? I’ll come get you.” You cut off her rambling, already rushing to put on your shoes, essay long forgotten. 

She hiccupped, “I’m at Macarena. I’m sorry no one else answered.” 

“No, no problem at all. I’m coming right now, Gia. Don’t move. I’m glad you called.” You comforted her. 

The club was only a twenty-minute walk from your house, and seeing as you didn’t have a car or the time to wait for public transport, it was your best option. 

You cursed yourself for not answering sooner as you rushed to get your keys, grabbing a random hoodie on the way out. 

Although summer was beginning to creep into Barcelona, the nights were still chilly with cold winds rushing through the area. 

You sped through the streets, walking with purpose as you finally reached the club. You were severely underdressed for the club wearing a random hoodie and yoga pants. You saw the line for the club was still extremely long, wrapping around the corner and you knew you had no time to waste. 

You took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself, you were never one to break any rules or ask for any special favors, but now seemed like a good time to start. 

You walked up to the club bouncer, ignoring the nasty look the guy at the front of the queue was sending you, “Excuse me. I need to get in right away, my friend is inside alone, and I need to help her.” 

You heard the guy next to you scoff. 

The bouncer looked at you unimpressed. “Sorry sweetheart. You want to get to her, you have to wait in line.” 

You relented, “Sir please, just look at my outfit,” you said gesturing to yourself, “clearly, I’m not here to party, I just need to get my friend and leave. You can even come with me!” 

He gave you an apprehensive look, taking in your appearance, “I can’t leave my post.” 

You groaned, “Fine, then can someone else escort me? I can literally call her right now. She’s not in the right head space.” 

He squinted his eyes at you, “You look familiar.” 

It finally clicked. This is where you had gone with Gavi and his team, celebrating after they had won a final a few weeks ago. They had treated you like royalty, blocking off a whole section just for you, the club owner even making an appearance to congratulate the team.

You didn’t like to use the fact that you were dating a well-known athlete as a way to get special privileges but if it meant helping your friend then you would do it. 

“Yeah, I was in VIP a few weeks ago. I know the owner, so please let me in.”

“What’s his name?” 

You racked your brain trying to think of that night, “Santiago. It was Santiago!” You replied, finally remembering. 

The bouncer gave you a once over before he finally nodded begrudgingly, “Fine – but be quick.” 

You heard the other people in line begin to argue but you quickly thanked the bouncer, rushing inside, not wanting to wait long enough for him to change his mind. 

God bless Gavi.

The place was packed, bodies pressed together so closely that you had to squeeze in between heavily making out couples and groups of friends to make your way to the middle. The strobe lights were going crazy, changing every few seconds to the beat of the music. There was a DJ booth twenty feet above the crowd playing EDM Spanish music and the crowd was going insane, chanting along. 

You hit your head on your forehead as you realized you forgot to ask her where she was. 

You pulled out your phone, letting out a breath of relief when she answered, “I’m here Gia. Where are you?” 

“I’m at- I said no, stop, I’m at the bar.” She huffed. You felt your anxiety rise, who was she talking to? 

“Ok, I’m coming.” 

You pushed through the throngs of people, finally spotting the bar, seeing her leaning against the counter, hands flying as she argued with someone. 

You walked towards them hearing the tail end of their conversation, a bad feeling in your stomach.

“Gia!” You yelled, coming to stand next to her. 

She gave you a relieved look, falling into you, the effort of standing up being too much. 

You caught her, hugging her back. 

“Oh wow – two for one. I got a buddy that would love you.” 

You steadied Gia looking up to see the guy she was talking with giving you a smirk. 

You held his gaze, annoyed, “No thanks. We’re leaving now.” 

You went to turn but he caught your wrist pulling you back, the drink in his hand sloshing,

“Woah, don’t go yet, the fun’s just getting started. Look my buddies are in VIP we can hook you up.” 

You yanked your hand away, giving him a disgusted look, “First don’t touch me. Second, we’re leaving.” 

“You’re not leaving.” He persisted. 

You raised an eyebrow, “Fucking watch me.” 

He reached for you again, but you were prepared, grabbing his hand, and flinging it off you, as you weaved into the crowd, ignoring his shouts. 

You let out a breath as you stepped outside of the club, grateful for the cold air after sweating through your hoodie in the packed club. 

You adjusted your hold on Gia, holding her waist as you started the trek back to your apartment. 

She stumbled over her steps as you walked, giggling, “Oh my god Y/n your bleeding!” 

You gave her a confused look, dragging her, “What?” 

She giggled again, reaching for your hoodie, “It’s coming from your stomach, look it’s red!” She pointed at your shirt. 

You looked down and you stopped in your tracks, breath hitching as you began to panic, “Oh shit Gia I’m wearing Gavi’s hoodie!” 

She stopped as well, letting go of you as she plopped onto the ground, staring up at you,

“So?” 

“So? He’s going to be so mad at me. That dick spilled his drink on me. This is a white hoodie – who knows if it will come out?” You stressed.

“It’s-" she hiccupped, “fine.” 

You shook your head, “No It’s not it’s his favorite hoodie, I didn’t even realize I was wearing it. Fuck, I have to clean as soon as we get home.” 

You started walking before you realized she wasn’t following you. 

“Gia?” 

You turned around to see her slumped against the sidewalk, eyes closed. 

You rushed to her side, shaking her, “Gia? Gia, are you okay?” 

She hummed, “I don’t feel so good.” 

“Can you walk? We’re almost halfway there.” You asked, helping her sit up so she was leaning against you. 

She groaned, “I’m going to throw up.” 

You looked around anxiously, unsure of what to do. You had left the main strip of clubs and restaurants, and were now on a back road, walking in an area that was dimly lit and that you weren’t too familiar with. 

“I can call an Uber.” 

You reached into your pocket, cursing yourself as you realized you had forgotten your wallet in the rush to get to the club. 

“Shit, I don’t have my wallet. Do you have yours?” 

“Antonio.” She groaned, leaning her head against your shoulder. 

You let out a huff, contemplating what to do. You attempted to get her to stand up once again, desperate to get out of the area, but she couldn’t stand, and you weren’t strong enough to carry her the rest of the way. You chewed on your lip debating a solution, but you didn’t want to do it unless it was the absolute, last, last resort. 

You spent the next five minutes calling all your friends, but no one answered. You groaned, frustrated, knowing you had run out of options. 

You heard your friend beginning to doze off and you shook her, “Gia stay awake.” 

She moaned, “Y/n I really don’t feel good. I don’t know what’s wrong.” 

Your finger hovered over the contact, and you finally pressed it, feeling the guilt build inside. 

It rang seven times before going to voicemail. You called back. 

On the third ring, the line finally connected, 

“Y/n? Why are you calling me so late?” Gavi’s voice was thick with sleep, his words murmured. 

Hearing his voice sent a pang of relief through you, and suddenly you didn’t feel so alone,

“Gavi I’m sorry. I really need your help.” 

He was up in an instant, wide awake, “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m stuck in the middle of the road with Gia. She got drunk and I went to get her but now I’m worried there’s something wrong. She can’t get up and we’re all alone. I don’t have any money. I called our friends, but no one answered, I-I didn’t know what to do.” You rushed out. 

You heard his breath accelerate on the other end of the line, “Ok don’t worry baby I’m coming. Send me your address, everything’s going to be okay. Just stay on the phone with me.” He reassured you. 

You nodded before realizing he couldn’t see you, “Thank you so much Gavi.”

You heard his car door open, “Anytime. If anything happens like this again you call me first, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

You stayed on the phone with him, rubbing Gia’s shoulder to comfort her, readjusting her whenever she began to doze off. 

Finally, you saw a familiar car pull onto the street, and you waved your hands, trying to get him to see you. 

The car made a quick turn and then Gavi was rushing out, a worried look on his face, 

“Oh thank god you’re okay. I was so worried.” 

“I’m so sorry for waking you. Thank you for coming.” 

“Y/n stop apologizing.” He said, helping you carry Gia to the car. 

Upon feeling that she was being lifted, her eyes shot open, “Y/n what’s going on?”

She glanced over to her left seeing Gavi before she turned to look at you, it took two seconds for her eyes to widen and then she was whipping her head back, “Gavi? The hell y-you doing here?” 

You giggled at her abruptness, “I had to call for help.” 

She turned to you, snuggling into your shoulder affectionately, “You’re the best Y/n. She was a rockstar today.” She spoke, as you both pushed her into the car. 

Gavi raised his eyebrow at you as you both got in, “A rockstar eh?” 

You rolled your eyes, “She’s just spewing nonsense.” 

Gia groaned in the back, hands clumsily coming to slap your shoulder, “Ehh don’t lie Y/n. You should have seen the way she talked to those guys – even I was scared.” 

You saw Gavi’s grip on the steering wheel tighten, his posture stiffened as he looked over at you,

“Guys? What guys?” 

You opened your mouth to reply but Gia beat you to it. 

“This one guy, he kept trying to get me to come with him, but then Y/n was like no way we’re leaving, and then he started hitting on her, but then he tried to grab her, and she karate chopped his hand! He was so embarrassed!” 

You felt yourself blushing at her recollection of events, “I did not karate chop his hand!” 

“Yes, you did. It was like in midair when he was talking about his friend that liked you, and then I blinked, and it was gone!”

“Did he try anything?” Gavi’s voice was hard, as he looked at you.

You shook your head, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, “No don’t worry. We were fine.” 

You felt his body relax under your touch, and one of his hands came to grip your own, “You should have called me sooner. I’m sorry you had to deal with that asshole.” 

You felt your heart flutter at his words, “Don’t worry I handled it. But thank you, next time I will.” 

Soon you were pulling up to your apartment and hauling Gia up your steps. 

“I really wish we had an elevator right now.” Gia groaned as she was being half pulled, half carried up the steps. 

You made eye contact with Gavi after hearing her statement, and you had to bite your cheek not to laugh out loud, 

“You and me both G.”

Finally, you reached your apartment, and all let out a sigh of relief as she fell onto your bed, passing out almost immediately. 

You cringed as you saw her head land centimeters away from the sharp edge of one of your textbooks. 

You reached over, clearing the space so she was able to sleep without the risk of a concussion. 

You looked up once the area was cleaned to see Gavi looking at you intently, a weird expression on his face almost like he was stuck in his thoughts. 

“What? Is everything okay?” You asked unsure, looking down at yourself. 

That’s when you realized. 

You were still wearing his hoodie, the one that had a massive red stain on it now thanks to the jackass at the club. 

You had completely forgotten about it. 

You quickly apologized, “Gavi I’m so sorry. Gia called and I was so worried so I grabbed the first thing I could find – and then the guy kept grabbing me and had this drink – anyways,” you let out a huff, “I’m really really sorry, I can buy you a new one.” 

Gavi stared at you in surprise, shocked by your outburst, “Y/n relax. It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry I know how much you love this sweatshirt.” 

Gavi shook his head slightly smiling, you were just so adorable, and he physically couldn’t hold back the words he’d been dying to say any longer, “I love you more though, so it’s fine.” 

“Wha-what?” You stumbled over your words, clearly not expecting such a big revelation.

“I said I love you.” He said it with so much confidence, almost like he was reciting a fact, something that couldn’t be changed, and you melted a little at how sure he sounded. 

You didn’t know what to say, your brain still playing those three words on a loop. He loved you. He had said it first. 

The silence stretched on and now it was his turn to get nervous, “Is that okay?”

Your mouth was still open in shock, but you quickly recovered, 

“Yo-you love me?” Your voice cracked. 

“Well, yeah… why would I not?” He asked, eyes locked on yours.

You shook your head, a smile gracing your features as you took a step closer to him, “I love you too, and I’m sorry-”

He cut you off with a sweet kiss, pulling you closer into him, as he slid his hands under the sweatshirt, fingers gently squeezing the soft flesh of your hips. 

Your lips moved in sync and your hands went to play with his hair, gently tugging. 

You heard him let out a groan and you bit his bottom lip instinctively. 

He pulled away out of breath, a dazed look in his eyes, “Joder, you can ruin all my hoodies if this is how you apologize.” He muttered breathlessly. 

You rolled your eyes, smiling as he brought you back into him for another kiss. 

#pablo gavi #gavi imagine #gavi #gavi angst #gavi fluff #gavi imagines #pablo gavi imagine #pedri #footballer imagine #football imagine #football #soccer imagine #soccer #futebol #pedri imagine #fc barça #fc barca #fc barcelona #gavi headcannon #gavi x reader #gavi blurb #pablogavi

[scarlettriot]

Okay, listen, I don’t need annnyone telling me how half baked an idea this is but it’s living rent fucking free in my head right now so I’m throwing it in a post (as opposed to in @twisteddaydreams1135 DMs like I have been).

A/B/O stuff. Alpha Kiri and Beta Reader. I write Beta’s a little differently so if you end up not liking it, it is what it is.

No real warnings here. It’s a lot of fluff and comfort honestly.

A Drabble that ended up being about 2K words… my bad.

No editing or proofing. Again, my bad.

Alpha Pro Hero Red Riot who co-owns and agency with Dynamight. Red Riot who’s in his 30s and not married or even mated. He works himself into the dirt because it keeps his mind occupied. Handles everyone’s paperwork. Picks up all the extra shifts at the office. His friends and coworkers can’t remember the last time he took a vacation, if ever!

But, Kirishima never complains. His pack his happy and he claims that makes him happy. But, the pack is getting worried. The dark circles under his once bright eyes never seem to go away. He only redyes his hair when Bakugou reminds him. He’s barely around for pack dinners and if he is home when they’re happening he usually just takes a plate with thanks and what he thinks is a genuine smile and goes to his apartment. He was still a phenomenal leader. So caring with that big heart of his. In fact, it seemed Kirishima cared about everyone around him far more than he ever cared for himself.

So, the pack came up with a plan, you.

You were new to the city, looking for work with your resume being passed around and Mina got her hands on it. A Personal Assistant could be exactly what big guy needed.

She brought your resume to Bakugou who agreed you seemed like a good fit with strong references and skills to match. And, you were a Beta. There’d be no chance your scent would bother Kirishima and both Mina and Bakugou agreed that was a good thing.

So, you started an hour before he did on a sunny Monday morning. In a small office right next to Red Riots. He came in with his protein drink and did a double take. They hired someone new? Since when? Last he checked him and Bakugou approved all hires together.

“Who the heck is she, do we even have room in the budget for a new hire?” He asked his friend after closing his office door.

“Made room in the budget for her. Her name is Y/N and she’s your new personal assistant.”

He made room because everyone took a small pay cut. Which they all agreed was worth it if it gets Kirishima to take a break and fucking relax for once.

“I don’t need a personal assistant. No one else has one!”

“Because everyone else can manage their time just fuckin’ fine. You can’t. You haven’t for almost a damn decade now. Not since—”

“Don’t.” Kirishima rumbled. “I know what you’re gonna say and just don’t. I’ll try and work with her but I make no promises.”

Bakugou knew that was the best outcome he could ask for right now so he didn’t fight him on it. Just nodded as Kirishima left his office and watched as he walked into yours.

Your new boss was nice. He lived up to everything you heard about him aside from a few things:

Kirishima wasn’t a fan of interviews. He would do them but he always looked incredibly worn down when he returned from one.

Kirishima had to be reminded to dye that red mane of his. You scheduled time for that.

And perhaps the biggest thing you learned about the man;

Kirishima HATED down time. You scheduled breaks in his day per his friends requests and either he flat out ignored them or he was in your office bothering you the entire time. Even on his days off he found reasons to be in the office. His newest was bringing you lunch.

You didn’t mind these little visits. In fact, you kinda liked the big guy showing up in your door way. He was a change of pace from some of the other Alpha’s you’ve worked with. And, not that you’d ever admit to crushing on your boss to anyone else, you could at least admit to yourself that you liked having him around.

Still, you had to remind him that this was his day off and he shouldn’t be at work.

“I’ll take a break when you take a break. After all, you are my personal assistant. If you’re working, I should be too.”

“I don’t think that’s how that works, Red.”

He shrugs those wide shoulders. “It is if I say it is.”

You just rolled your eyes at him and reminded him again that there’s still things you need to work on when he’s out of office. Just like how you keep working when he goes on patrol. But, he waved his hand and changed the subject as usual.

Despite feeling like he definitely didn’t need someone managing his schedule, Kirishima actually really liked having you around.

You were easy to talk to, you didn’t seem to judge him, and he knew you were doing what you could to keep his best interests in mind even if he wasn’t.

He wouldn’t dare admit it out loud or to anyone but he knew deep down he had a hint of a crush on you. It started when he watched you storm up to Denki and push a paper against his chest. “Kirishima is not handling your strawberry milk requests anymore, I’ve told you this. If you want special snacks so much, put the order in yourself.”

He knew his friend only did it to get a rise out of you. And it worked every time. It was cute to see the way you cared about him even if it was just from a professional stand point.

When he had free time in the weeks that followed he found himself fond of hanging around you. You were a Beta but whatever perfume you had on was pleasant and he could feel the worries he carried around with him for years ebb away when you were near.

That’s why even on his days off he sought you out.

He’d sit at the little table in your office and you asked him about his interest and found some common ground between the both of you. Things to talk about and fill the quiet time. It wasn’t in the job description but he was thankful for it nonetheless.

After reminding him yet again he wasn’t supposed to be in the office on his days off you asked him wouldn’t he rather be doing something different instead? Something more fun?

“The things I enjoyed doing aren’t really fun alone. I go for my runs and workouts and that’s about it.”

“You have plenty of friends, Red! And you’re still one of the most eligible Pro Hero bachelors, I get like 10 emails a day asking if you would agree to a date with people if you’re looking for something more romantic. You don’t have to be alone!”

“My friends have families that they spend time with on their days off, just as they should. They don’t need to go spending time with me. And I’m not looking for romantic right now.” or possibly ever again, he thought.

“Alright, so, what are you gonna do on your next day off?”

“Probably this!” He grinned all proud of himself.

But you had a grin of your own. “Might be a little difficult since I listened to what you said: how I should take time off when you do.”

“Oh…” Even though he tried he couldn’t hide the disappointment in his voice. “That’s good though! You should take more time off.”

“Yeah…” You pushed some food around your plate for a moment and then he heard a little sigh before you spoke. “On my days off I like going to this little book shop I found.” You described the area and he knew exactly where it was. “It’s got a little café inside. I’ll probably go around 11 and be there for a few hours, if you wanted to meet me.”

He hadn’t agreed to plans so quickly in he could remember how long!

On his day off Kirishima was up bright and early, went for a run, came back and showered, changed into jeans and a nicer shirt.

“Where the hell are you goin’?” Bakugou asked, just as stunned to see the man looking so chipper and up and moving on his day off rather than secluding himself in his room.

“I’ve got plans! See ya later!” He called and headed to the bookstore without realizing he had two nosy friends following him. One blonde. And the other pink.

They watched him from across the street and saw him walk up to you with a grin like they hadn’t seen on his face in so very long and they knew hiring you was the best decision they could’ve made.

The two went home, not wanting to interrupt the plans, and left you two to the outing.

Kirishima stood beside you in line while you two talked about the different options the cafe had. You told him what items where your favorite and what you thought he might like.

It was while you waited off to the side for your number to be called that he said something that caught you off guard. “The perfume you wear, it’s nice.”

While the compliment was appreciated and made your cheeks a little warmer you looked up at him confused. “Thanks but I don’t wear perfume.”

Now he looked confused. “But, I smell it all the time. Have for weeks now.” Your eyes went wide as he tried his best to describe it. It wasn’t your shampoo or body wash, not even the lotion you wear from time to time.

You knew Alpha’s had good noses but you weren’t expecting this. “Kirishima, that’s not something I wear. That’s my scent.”

#I might expand on this #if the thoughts persist #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics #alpha kirishima #beta reader #kirishima x reader #kirishima drabble #best red rock shark ♥️🦈

[herrlindemann]

Sonic Seducer - 2008, interview with Flake

thanks to ramjohn for the scans.

While his colleagues from Rammstein are working at full speed in the studio on the still untitled successor to their 2005 album 'Rosenrot', we invited the eccentric keyboardist to our psycho couch for an entertaining one-on-one chat. Flake Lorenz on success, idols and the advantages of not owning a wallet!

What is your profession?

I'm forced to call myself a musician, anything else would be a lie! The last thing that would probably apply to me would be the term entertainer. You can't really call me an artist either...

Why shouldn't you be considered an artist?

Because such a view presupposes that I would make art! Music does not necessarily have to be art at the same time. As is well known, there is also dance music that is artistically less valuable.

Do you still have stage fright before performances today?

I still have stage fright, but mostly in situations where I'm not 100% sure about how the performance will go — like during my solo performance at the Berlin Volksbühne some time ago, for example. I prefer to follow a precise schedule with times and other details. I feel very safe knowing the band is standing here, I'm standing there and the crowd is standing over there etc.

Are you a generally insecure person?

Yes. I chronically doubt myself and all other people and things.

Would you describe yourself as a perfectionist?

Not at all! Quite the opposite: I'm a real Schludrian - fortunately!

What was your career aspiration as a child?

I really wanted to be a piano player. In the early days I had lessons, but I didn't have my own piano. So in my free time I practiced at the kitchen table on sheets of paper that I drew the keys on. At some point my parents saw that I was serious about playing the piano and bought me my own piano.

Were you a good student then?

At first, but later I became very bad. From the 7th grade I basically saw myself as a punk and school didn't interest me that much anymore.

Did you have to be bad at school to be a punk?

No, not necessarily. I became a bad student all by myself... I actually would have liked to have done better. In the early days of Feeling B I was still in 10th grade - when I came home from our performances at the weekend, I couldn't be completely rested and fit again at school on Monday morning!

What do you like?

Shipwrecks.

What do you hate?

Very much! I probably hate a lot more than I like. I couldn't come up with a top 10 hate objects without neglecting the rest of the stuff.

Where is the most beautiful place in the world for you?

At my home in the country, just outside of Berlin.

Who would you want to swap roles with for a day?

Actually with nobody. I've got enough trouble with myself that I don't necessarily have to take on another role!

What do you have in your pocket at the moment?

A tissue.

That's all?

And money. I always keep my money in my ass pocket — I've never used a wallet in my life!

Out of pure post punk conviction?

No. It's just that I wouldn't think of keeping my money in a wallet in real life. So far it has always looked like this: I kept my credit cards loose in my pocket on the front left and small change on the right. In the ass pockets, notes and banknotes for free use. That's how I got through life for a long time. A friend was very concerned that this would scratch my credit cards and ultimately render them unusable. So he gave me a small bag with a magnet closure. However, this magnetic clasp erased the magnetic strips on all credit cards, garage door openers and alarm system code cards the first time I opened it, so I had to apply for everything again! A clear sign of non-improvement! I dare not imagine what could happen if I used a wallet!

How important is success to you?

There's small successes and big successes — it doesn't bother me that a lot of people think I'm great. With the fame I get from working with Rammstein, the positives and negatives are roughly balanced. It is important to develop your own position on these things. If the TV program annoys me, I turn it off — the same with Rammstein: If I don't want to have anything to do with the band, I put my hat on, go to the back room and have my peace.

What will your life look like in old age?

I don't want to say anything wrong at this point. Mick Jagger said at the time there was no way he would still be on stage singing 'Satisfaction' when he was 50... I also never thought I would live very old. The way of life in this band is anything but healthy: the touring life, the flights every day, the excitement, the noise pollution...

Also, there is a lot of drinking. It has gotten better, but in the past people often drank to the point of unconsciousness; especially in the east. Always. With a reason or without.

Do you have idols?

I think Helge Schneider is very good.

What's your biggest fear?

Quite factually: before dying.

What are your goals in life?

There are none today — I'm done, I've done everything I set out to do!

Do you have any regrets?

My only regret is that I didn't do various things. Then nothing.

#Rammstein #Flake #Flake Lorenz #interview #translation #2008 #*scans #*

[afreakingdork]

Weak Spot - Chapter 4

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia

Synopsis:  When falling in love is the easy part where does the difficulty lie? In a society where we’re defined by our job, it’s those little details as a relationship goes on that ends up setting a course for whether or not a couple can make it in the long run

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

As a cherry on top of an otherwise roller coaster meeting, Donatello hit you with a one-two punch before departing. The first being that he had a change in schedule that required his attendance that weekend. It meant he would not be able to continue his sandwich escapade until Monday. The second was that in accordance with this change he would lighten the restrictions on texting.

On one hand, it meant that your fourth meeting would again coincide with work; something that you were hoping to avoid. As you made your way back to your building, you were plotting any number of ways you could avoid your boss’s attention. Risking a tongue lashing was worth it for Donatello, but that didn’t mean you’d walk into the scenario willingly.

Alternatively, you now had free reign to bother the object of your affection as much as you wanted; within reason, at least. He’d been quick to add that he preferred substantial conversation be made in person and you got that sense that he was testing you again. The weekend now felt like a trial run on whether or not you could keep your new privileges and somehow, even though it felt acutely childish, it also struck you as a fun gambit. Hopping up the steps to your high-rise, you yanked on a door with twirling force.

-

 You: and they only told me to that I needed to pick-up the coffee when I was already standing in front of the building!

Donatello: A pathetic mismanagement of time and resources.

Kicking your legs hard enough to make your office chair rock back and forth, you put your phone back down on your desk. Against all odds, Donatello had been a relatively attentive texting partner though you had taken great care in crafting your messages. You’d given him a reprieve until Saturday and then opened mid morning with brunch conversation. He found the conventions of which overblown and you’d used that as a jumping off point. It was curious that his responses came at a surprising pace considering he had plans, but you weren’t about to point that out. He’d been pretty clear about what he’d divulge and even if you were curious, it was still early enough in whatever this was that it wasn’t about to be an issue.

You straightened.

Had he just called you a resource?

Bouncing on the idea, your chair squeaked as you went for your phone again. It was just begging to be addressed.

“So, that’s it…”

Stalling and instinctively shoving your phone under a folder, you darted up to see a co-worker hanging off the wall of your cubicle.

You gave the man a soured glance and pulled your phone back out. You weren’t on ‘go to lunch with’ sort of terms with this employee, but you’d built up an ‘office gossip’ sort of rapport. “Happy Monday to you too.”

“Who’s the beau?” He took a sip of his water bottle.

You sunk down until your chest was almost touching your desk. “That obvious?”

“Only if we add in those late lunches…?” He trailed off with a smarmy grin that said you had to respond even though he already knew the answer.

Finally collapsing down, you held your phone outstretched and activated it out of habit. “Fine, yes. I met someone on my lunch break.”

“Is he hot?” Your co-worker pulled his arm free from the metal frame to enter your space.

“Yes, but I don’t have any pictures yet.”

“Too bad.” The man nearly sang the phrase.

You hummed in agreement when his introductory phrase came to mind. “What did you mean earlier?”

“The boss wants to see you.”

You shot up so fast the papers on your desk flittered away from the movement.

Your co-worker smirked into another sip.

“You didn’t think to, I don’t know, open with that?!”

“I had to find out why. Thankfully it was written all over your face.”

You glowered at him as your quickly snatched up any necessary paperwork. “Big help.”

“Anytime.”

“So, that’s just it? He’s mad about the lunches?” Making sure to lock up your bag with the phone inside in case someone got any bright ideas, you rounded your desk to stare the man down.

“He didn’t seem mad actually.”

You squinted.

“Maybe a little mad.”

You folded your arms.

“Look.” The man finally relented by bringing his bottle up. “He just laid into me for filling up my water too often and then asked me to grab you next. It’s going to be one of those days. Everyone’s going to get their ass chewed out.”    

“Was that so hard?” You huffed, exiting your cubicle with him in tow.

“It was less fun!”

With a flick of your wrist you banished your co-worker as you took a sharp corner. Your boss had a windowed office down the hall and you headed towards it. The blinds inside were pulled shut which was never a good sign. He was the kind of man that liked to keep them open for peak vigilance. Already dreading the exchange, you marched up to the door and rapped your knuckles on the glass. From inside there was a muffled affirmation.

Opening the door revealed your boss at his desk with his elbows craned to the tabletop. From there his fingers were thread which obscured his mouth from view.

Either he watched one too many anime in his day or he really was just that cartoonishly evil.

“Y/N.”

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

It was playing out the lines of a surreal office drama.

“18, 27, 36.”

You stared at him blankly.

He stood, his thin gaze focused solely on your face.

“Some type of lotto numbers?” You knew that wasn’t the answer, but you needed something to break the silence.

“That’s over an hour of time.”

You gave a tight nod and tried to keep your mouth in a similarly taunt line.

Your boss sighed and one of his arms fell over. You watched as he groaned into standing until both palms were flat on his desk and he was hovering over it. “How long are you going to play dumb?”

Any answer would be used against you so you pleaded the fifth.

“The lunches!” Your boss roared and slammed one of his hands down for an echoing thud. “All last week you took longer and longer lunches.”

It was only Wednesday on, but interjecting that fact now wouldn’t help your case.

“Did you think no one would notice? Your co-workers certainly did! Imagine them coming to me when they can’t seem to find you?”

He was lying through his teeth. Barely a soul in this company bothered to communicate without an email’s read receipt.

“How am I supposed to get anything done like that? While you’re gallivanting off, who knows where, on company time!”

“I’m sorry, sir-”

“Sorry, huh?” He clipped your apology with a sneer. “Not sorry enough to inform anyone of your absence or offer to make up for the lost time!” He snapped upright in a rigid fashion, but then his spine seemed to loll as if it were made of jelly. “So, you admit that you thought you’d just get away with it? That you deserved special privileges that none of your fellow associates have? That I would surely be too busy to notice? That your time is worth far more than anyone else’s?”

A hundred defenses sat on your lips, but you crushed them by squeezing them together until it stung your jaw.

“At least you know enough when you keep quiet.”

You loathed this bastard.

“That means you’re not a lost cause.” His shoulders heaved forward as he rounded the desk. “You’ll make up the 81 minutes with your lunch break today.”

You had meant to stay neutral. Even the slightest move would act against you, but at the command your shoulders seized up in fear.

Donatello in his black coat flashed in your mind’s eye.

“Oh, sorry.” On that springy spine, your boss bounded forward to catch a bottom up look at your face. “Am I interrupting something or do you actually want to keep your job?”

One of your eye lids twitched and you hoped from his awkward angle that he hadn’t picked it up. The exaggerated candor of his voice grated on your ears in a way that made you sick to your stomach.

“You’ll take your lunch, of course. State laws and all, but you’ll have to move your plans. Oh, wait…”

Since his gaze was still trained on your face, you flexed your fingers before knuckling them white.

“No need to bother heading back to your desk! Did I mention it’s already prepared for you?” He rolled back, leaning a little too far. “That’s just how considerate I am! Even when an employee doesn’t return that same sort of thing!”

You watched him your jaw so tight it was near spasming. 

He walked the few feet over to the cord in the corner of his office and pulled swiftly. It opened up the blinds to a view of the office. Several employees nervously glanced at the move out of their periphery wanting to see who’s head was on the chopping block, but not wanting to bring attention to themselves to be next.

“See that copier.” He pointed and you moved your body stiffly. Said machine had a multiple daunting stacks of paper shoved onto the desk beside it along with multiple repurposed postal crates below.

“Yes.”

“You’ll need to scan all that and file it accordingly.”

They had a kid for this. A grunt hired on part-time for this kind of menial task.

“Oh, and do remember to remove and re-staple each document after scanning! Don’t want to jam the poor thing up!”

Hard copies weren’t even kept. Shredding was something else the part-timer did.

“When you’re done, you can take your lunch. I’ll even adjust it so you can still go home on time. Quite gracious of me, don’t you think?”

You’d quit right on the spot if you had anything else lined up.

Returning to food service never looked so good.

“What was that?” Your boss mimed putting a hand to his ear.

“Yes, sir. Thank you.” You could only manage the barest of nods and he seemed to relish in your silent fury.

“Call Bernie over next on your way out.” There was the sharp noise of the blinds closing again and you turned for the door. You heard your boss retreat and assumed he was falling back into the asinine posing he’d concocted. Crossing the space to the copier, you caught the next victim’s eye and signaled to him that his time had come. The man scurried away and you seethed into the first page. Picking it up found dozen of documents in the first stack with only a couple of pages stapled together in each set. Anger depleted at the futility of it all. You couldn’t even sneak away to tell Donatello you’d be late.

You really hated your boss.

-

Belting down the sidewalk, you narrowly miss several pedestrians as you ran towards the sandwich shop. The scanning hadn’t taken as long as you thought, but you were still almost two hours late. Donatello hadn’t even sent you a questioning text.

Did he think you’d ditched him?

Had he simply left?

There was no way anyone sensible would still be waiting.

Still, you ran.

Closing in on the shop’s door at an alarming pace, you threw on the brakes in a manner that had your heels grinding against the concrete. Stopping shy of the door, you didn’t see his large figure inside, but this shop had some rustic décor that would have been easy to conceal him. In the barest form of your reflection, you attempted to smooth you the jog’s ruffling before grabbing the door handle. You gave a sharp tug that it protested before you realized it was a push door.

Choosing to believe you were burning from the exertion and not embarrassment, you shoved the large wooden thing. It heaved open and you took several hurried steps inside before it gave you enough vantage to view the space.

Your heart sank.

He wasn’t there.

Your shoulders gave out and your arms dangled pathetically. With weak limbs you procured your phone to find your messages in the same state as when you had run out of your building. Bitterly you guessed that your boss would at least be satisfied to find there was no chance you’d be late again. Sighing, you hovered a thumb over a text window to type a message. You got out exactly four letters when a sharp stream of cold air blew against your neck and down your collar.

You yelped at the sensation; goosebumps cropping up on your arm. Several patrons looked towards you and you slapped a hand to the back of your neck. Spinning around, you stared up, scandalized, as Donatello watched you with the corner of his mouth quirked.

Damn him and his love of scaring people.

“What are you still doing here?!” You hissed, still rubbing your neck.

He straightened up and gave the barest shrug. “Taking a late lunch.”

Your hand fell away as you stared at him. He evaluated you flatly in return.

He’d waited.

All that time.

A few clucking chuckles petered out of you before you started laughing. One of his brows raised at the action and you had to put a hand to your stomach to keep from doubling over.

“A-Ah, sorry!” You waved at him, trying to reign yourself in.

He continued to watch.

“I just imagined you, waiting behind the door all that time!”

You could sense the way he soured though his face were clean of any unsavioriness.  

“Thank you.” You came out of your fit with your eyes shining and beamed him a smile.

He took it in and brushed past you.

Rapidly becoming accustomed to the song and dance, you chased after him without hesitation.

He got to the counter before you could properly catch his side so you waited as he placed the order. You watched his interaction and remembered how he’d mentioned this place’s archaic ordering system. From the look of the shop it seemed more probable that they forwent online ordering to preserve the ambiance. He paid again and you cursed yourself for getting caught up in errant thoughts.

“That puts me three behind.” You griped as he lead the charge to the table.

“A scoreboard that only you will be keeping track of.” He tucked himself into a chair and regarded you languidly.

“You have to care some. It’ll get annoying if only you pay!” Taking your own seat, you looked at him with set features.

His flat gaze said it wasn’t worth his time.

You sighed.

“I’m more interested in what kept you.”

Coming off the puff of air, you looked away. It might be another thing only you were keeping tally of, but your boss had already been giving way too much air time. From texts to capping off nearly every meeting, you hated the thought of giving that guy one more second.

“I had… work to catch up on.” It was the kind of sentence you only decided on about halfway through. It meant it would either sound unconvincing or exhausted. Checking back with your companion found him staring with what felt like a higher intensity.

Or it could have been the guilt talking.

“You know, from being late?” You offered, turning towards him in hopes the move would read more open.

For the first time his stoic gaze felt suffocating.

You drowned under the weight of it until he shifted his position.

“What about you?”

“You already thanked me.” He reached into his coat and you watched curiously.

“I mean… Yeah, I did, but that doesn’t mean I’m not still curious. You waited all that time and didn’t send a message? How long would you have waited if I hadn’t shown up when I did.”

He pulled out something you couldn’t quite see and removed his glasses. You stared, taking in his relatively unmarred face greedily as he seemingly adjusted them. You wondered if he ever went out without the bandana before he donned his frames again. Adjusting through the colored lenses, his attention drifted towards the kitchen.

“Donatello.” You gave a scolding note to your voice.

Had he done all that in an attempt to throw you off his scent?

It had almost worked, but that wasn’t the point.

His eyes returned to the table, but avoided yours in a way that brought your brows up. Whatever he wasn’t saying was something he really wanted to avoid. It made you all the more curious.

“I don’t…” He started and his lips curled slightly showing his distaste in the peek of a canine. “Like to speak in uncertainties.”

You straightened as the statement absorbed into your person.

He didn’t know.

Your stomach flipped.

He didn’t know how long he would have waited for you.

He had done many things at this point that did it for you, but something about this one in particular warmed your cheeks. You brought up a hand in an attempt to cool them when you caught a glimpse of a waitress walking over. She had thankfully come with your meals and you bobbed an embarrassed nod at her in appreciation. She took it with a knowing giggle and scurried away so as not to interrupt further.

“I like you.” The phrase jumped off your lips and you moved to close them off with a bite of your sandwich.

“You’ve made that abundantly clear.” There was an amused air to his voice.

“Seriously though…” The rhythm of chewing had an oddly soothing effect. “I’m gonna have to haul ass back to work after this. I can’t be late again.”

From where he was about to take his first bite, Donatello halted and looked straight at you.

It was only then that it dawned on you that you might have negated your earlier boss dodging comment.

“You got in trouble.”

His careful eye was a blessing and a curse.

“I… was hoping not to get into it.” You tucked your gaze into your bread.

“For my sake or yours?”

Within a blink, your eyes widened. “What?”

He gave his usual silence.

“No.” You finally looked at him. “I’m not expecting you to repeat yourself, I actually don’t know what you mean.”

He seemed to take in two things at once.

You realized you had yet to verbally confirm you’d deciphered that bit of his speaking mannerisms.

You’d been hoping to keep that one closer for a little longer, but it was bound to come out sooner or later.

“You’re one to speak your mind, but you also pay far too much attention to me.”

He’d seen right through you.

 “I could be trying harder to get another job…” The muscles in your shoulders bunched up.

His eyes shot downward and then right back to you.

You wilted under it, but he didn’t follow it up with anything else. Unsure yourself, you moved back to your sandwich. He didn’t resume eating and his intense gaze continued to bore into you.

“I’d love to, but unfortunately I can’t read your mind.” You finally forced out when you couldn’t take the atmosphere any longer. 

He continued the stifling leer for several more seconds before he broke it. He turned his head fully away and then spoke only out of the corner of his mouth. “If it’s upsetting you, then feel free to talk about it.”

Your features softened. “It won’t bother you?”

He huffed. “That is the exact sort of response I was hoping to avoid.”

Whatever gooeyness coating your features translated to your innards feeling similarly like mush.

He certainly didn’t want to answer your question because he would out how kind he was being.

Overwhelmed by the feeling, you gently kicked his leg from beneath the table.

While he didn’t exactly look offended, he seemed it. In retaliation and in spite of the table’s protest, he folded his legs away from you.

“Eat. You’re wasting time playing footsie.”

Giggling down at your meal, there was a sobering quality to your sandwich. There was something else to this meal you’d almost forgotten. As you picked it up, the heft of it being the last one weighed heavily in your hands. You took a small bite, but the time constraints meant you couldn’t make it last. “I had to do a bunch of busy work to make up for the cumulative hours I’ve missed.”

Across from you Donnie finally began to eat.

“It’s stupid because we literally have an employee for that. I’m sure it was some stupid pseudo-example of office power dynamic garbage.”

You scarfed down several bites in annoyance.

“There wasn’t even a threat of being late again! I just don’t want to give him any more fodder to complain!”

Your sandwich was slowly disappearing.

“Not… that it matters after this…”

The feeling you’d been trying to chase away with your latent angry reared its head.

You hadn’t made those additional plans.

“Does your company participate in those lax days?”

“Lax like casual Friday?”

He gave a nod.

“Not really, though everyone has a TGIF sense and less work definitely gets done at the end of the week.”

You took another bite and something about the conversation jogged your memory. When you brought your attention back to Donatello, he seemed to be waiting with a knowing look.

“If it’s on Friday when everyone else is loose with lunch hours than he can’t whine!”

“As long as that’s the case.”

“But… this is the last shop.”

“There are others.”

“No, you were very clear about there being four.”

He gave you his patented look.

You gave a coy one of your own and he deferred against it having not realized you were messing with him. You wanted to relish in his embarrassment, but there was simply no time. “Won’t that interrupt your sandwich study?”

“There was no exact time frame.”

You smiled.

“Finish.”

It was a reminder so you dove back into your sandwich. Polishing the last bite off, you looked up at him curiously and he nodded in a way that meant you’d cleared the ticking threshold. You noticed he hadn’t finished his meal and he simply wrapped it back up in response.

“Did this shop…?” You turned, ready to pounce on more staff.

“No, since I missed my usual consumption window, I’m not as hungry. Otherwise, they were a decent showing.”

“I wish my body worked like that.”

He gave a tepid shrug and you both packed up to leave.

“Ugh, I don’t want to go back yet! We’ve barely spoken!” You gave a dramatic flourish and jumped ahead a few steps. He watched on dully as you turned and held out a longing hand to him.

He allowed you to hold the pose for several beats before making a large sidestep to open the door. Your laughter chased after him.

“Dinner typically takes longer.”

You only heard the comment as you passed by him to head outside. You double took so quickly you almost reentered the restaurant.

“Are…” You held your breath. “You have to clarify if you’re asking me out.”

He stepped closer as he let the door close and you hadn’t quite moved away. Before you could give him his space, he crowded yours in a manner that brought his face right up to yours. “Thursday, go on a date with me. I’ll make a reservation.”

From where you were holding your breath, you were surely suffocating as your forgot how to take in anymore.

He was so close.

The way he’d said it.

You wanted to ascend.

“You have to confirm if you want it to happen.”

“Yes!” You watched, up close, as he winced when it came out a little too loudly. “Yes, yes, a million times yes!”

“I’m regretting my decision already.”

“I’ll see you Thursday… wait and then lunch on Friday?!”

He straightened up and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

Remembering this probably fell into the repetition category, you adjusted yourself and gave him your best molten stare in gratitude. “I’ll be waiting for the details.”

He gave a nod that seemed tight for a different reason and departed.

You resisted the urge to click your heels as you headed the opposite way.

NEXT

#rottmnt #rottmnt donnie x reader #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #me #fanfiction #my fanfiction #weakspotfic

[gnwzero]

| 𝘦𝘯𝘩𝘺𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘳𝘺 ~

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝘦𝘯𝘩𝘺𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨!𝘫𝘢𝘺!𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧!𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦!

𝐰𝐜: 1,041

𝐚/𝐧: 𝘩𝘪! 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘩𝘺𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 <3

𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠 :

he had just gotten to his dorm from a long day at the studio, his voice was halfway gone, throat sore, mentally drained and just ready for some alone time. well his members had been at the dorm all day and didn’t know about heeseung’s long day at work, so when you asked jay if you should surprise hee, he of course said yes!

you were in the living room with niki playing video games when hee walked in and niki smiled up at him a little and said “you have a surprise!” motioning at you, causing you to smile and look up at heeseung. you expected him to be happy,, but he wasn’t. he kinda even looked.. annoyed?

“what are you doing here?” he said in an annoyed tone and it shocked you a little. “i came so we could hangout and maybe go get dinner or somethin-“ “i can’t always give you time. i’m busy and sometimes just want time to myself y/n. you have to learn about personal space because i don’t know how much more i can take, just go home.” he said walking to his room and slamming the door shut.

your eyes filled with tears as the words he had said replayed in your mind. niki looked over at you completely lost “i don’t think he’s thinking. you don’t need to go home, he’s just in a bad mood, i’m sure he didn’t mean it.” he said trying to reassure you, but it didn’t work. you just shook your head and left, tears streaming down your face, and went back to your dorm with your members as they tried to comfort you the best that they could.

the next day after you had cried yourself to sleep, you woke up to your phone going off to a THOUSAND texts messages. you looked down and saw “hee 💕” ‘s contant popping up on your screen over and over again.

all the texts looked something like “baby i’m so sorry” “i didn’t mean anything” “please forgive me i wasn’t in my head” “i’m so freaking sorry” “i’m coming over with boba please forgive me”

of course you were still hurt, but when he got there with your drink and smothered you in kisses and hugs and apologies, you forgave him. heeseung has a hard schedule and you knew that, but it didn’t give him a right to be a jerk to you, so you let him know that and he agreed and apologized millions of more times until you were literally like “😐 okay please stop talking 😐” because of how many times he had said the word sorry in the past hour JDJSNS~

all in all, the boy would never purposely hurt you in any way and y’all had a great day together watching movies, snuggling, and drinking boba :)).

𝐣𝐚𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 :

you and jay have both been planning on hanging out this saturday because it’s an off-day for you both, and you were so excited so excited for it all the week long.. and it was FINALLY saturday >:D time to see your amazing boyfriend who you missed so so much !!

you woke up and started getting ready to meet him at his dorm when you phone dinged and you looked down at it. it was from your leader and it said “early morning practices was moved from monday morning to this morning until noon, see y’all there.”

your heart automatically dropped. you would still be able to see him, but not until later, and you were so sad. you texted him “hey, apparently practice got moved to this morning,, i’m sorry i’m gonna have to come over a little later :/“ and his response was kinda.. strange?

“ok” was all he said,, you didn’t know if he was annoyed or that was just his genuine response.. but jay usually isn’t one to just say “ok” and go about his day.. you could tell he was upset, but you didn’t wanna make it worse so you just went to practice.

at noon after practice, you drove to his dorm and walked in and went to his room and sat your keys down on his shelf, making him look up from his phone.

“hi baby-“ you said going over to him to peck his lips and he gave you a very straight face look like “:|”.

“why do you lie? you could’ve just told me you were with eric, you lying and skipping our day we’re supposed to be with each other is upsetting, do you understand that?” he spoke as your brows furrowed.

eric was one of your best friends, (eric sohn from the boys :)) and you loved hanging out with him, but you would never cancel on your time with jay to be with eric, and jay knew that !! you thought..

“i wasn’t with eric..? i was at practice, i wasn’t lying to you i don’t lie to you.” you said confused sitting next to him on his bed.

“y/n i know you were, look.” he said showing you a dispatch taken photo of you and eric that was uploaded today.. but it wasn’t taken today. it was taken weeks ago,, eric’s hair wasn’t even that color anymore !!

“that was from a few weeks ago-“ “STOP LYING” he raised his voice at you cutting off your words which caused your eyes to fill with tears. he wasn’t listening to you and he raised his voice out of anger.. you felt bad, but you weren’t lying.

tears started streaming down your cheeks as you pulled up eric’s newest instagram post on your phone and holding it out for jay to see. “his hair isn’t even that color anymore.” you said sniffling and jay widened his eyes a little looking at the picture.

he automatically started feeling OH so bad for raising his voice and not believing you.. now that he’s thinking straight, he knows you’ve never given him a reason not to believe you.

he apologized over and over again hugging you and kissing your tears away.

“i’m sorry, i should’ve believed you.”

you ofc forgave him, and y’all spent the rest of the day hanging out on your day off >:D !!

#jay park #lee heeseung #heeseung #jay enhypen #enha reactions #enhypen #enhypen reactions #heeseung enhypen

[imyourliquor-youremypoison]

Trainwreck (OC fiction) - Part 5

MASTERLIST

2.6 words

Roman spent the majority of his week-end trying to call Joyce and sending her messages that all went unanswered.

            The rest of it he spent ignoring Alma’s texts. He read them, and couldn’t fathom why he was with this girl in the first place. The poor excuse of an apology she sent him was nothing but condescending and put all the blame on him.

            He knew- godammit he knew he had messed up on both sides, but he hadn’t crossed any lines. Sure, it was unfair to Alma that he had started spending so much time with Joyce, and it had been terrible to hide Alma from Jo. He’d buried his own grave, there was no denying that now. The only thing left to do was clean up the mess.

            He rarely saw Joyce on Mondays; she had late classes while he was on campus in the morning. However, he could not avoid Alma, who knew his schedule and furiously strode in his directions right now. Roman sighed.

            He had known this was coming, although he had hoped to get a few more days of respite. He rubbed his chin, mentally preparing for the heated conversation to come. Alma would not go down easy.

“You fucking bastard!” she yelled at him the second she reached him, and shoved him in the chest, making Roman take a few steps back.

            He kept his hands in his coat pockets.

“You’ve got some nerve, you know that? You just left me up and hanging the other day even though I was there for you!” She was seething, and his lack of reaction only encouraged her in her anger. “And then you ignored my texts all week-end like some sulking child?”

“I needed a moment to think,” he told her calmly. “And if your texts were supposed to be apologetic, you’ll need to work on that.”

“Apologize?!” she nearly screeched. “I have nothing to apologize for, you fucking freak! You’re the one who forced me, your girlfriend, to spend an entire evening with your side piece.”

            Roman saw red but forced himself to swallow back the burning insult on the tip of his tongue. Balling up his fists but keeping his hands in his pockets, he took a beat to take a breath.

“Joyce is my friend, Alma-“

“Friends don’t look at you the way she does, and don’t even pretend you haven’t noticed, it’s written all over her face – and yours.”

            No, he wouldn’t deny it, that much he did owe her. He bit down on his lip.

“It’s actually pretty pathetic how obviously in love she is with you,” Alma kept pushing, spewing her venom, arms crossed over her chest. “I’d feel bad for her if I gave a damn how she felt.”

            Roman swallowed but didn’t let it show on his face that she said affected him in any way.

“You know, I find it awfully convenient that after barely seeing you for weeks, you suddenly take a renewed interest in me and our so-called relationship,” Roman laughed bitterly. “Looks to me like you’re only throwing a fit because you feel threatened.”

“Me? Threatened? By her?” Alma laughed one of her hateful laughs that Roman despised. He knew she had a side like this, a little bully inside her that mocked and ridiculed others to make herself feel better, but he had never been at the receiving end of it. “She wishes she were me. And not just because you’re screwing me.”

“Oh really? Very classy, Alma.” Roman snarled. “I don’t remember the last time I even touched you, she’s got nothing to be jealous of. Especially now that she realized just how ugly you are on the inside.”

            That seemed to get to her, and Alma even looked around for a heartbeat, making sure no one had heard him, as if she was more worried about what people thought of her relationship than by actually saving it.

            Not that there was much to save. He couldn’t believe how long it had taken him to see her for who she was. He shook his head.

“Is that it, then?” she continued. “You started talking to a discount store version of me because you didn’t get enough puss-“

“Håll din jävla käft![1]” Roman shouted suddenly, cutting her off.

“English, please! How many times do I have to tell you that I hate it when you speak a language I can’t understand?” she shouted right back, apparently not caring if they attracted attention now.

            Roman paused then. His mouth slowly turned into a little smile as he thought about the other day, when Jo had clumsily spoken Swedish to him. Of course, it had been to tell him that she left, but still, she had spoken his language. He hadn’t taught her anything – she hadn’t asked and although she had never said anything about his occasional exclamation in his native tongue, he never thought she’d take an interest in it.

“You can’t understand because you never tried, you’re too self-centered for that,” Roman finally told Alma, looking her dead in the eye. “We’ve been together for over a year and you have never cared. You don’t care about anyone but yourself, and I’m done with you.”

“What- What do you mean? You can’t just leave me,” she protested, not believing what she heard. “You’ll regret this,” she added, reverting back to threats.

“I don’t think I will. You know what I just realized?”

“What?” she spat out.

“I don’t even like you. It’s over Alma, go make someone else miserable.”

            The moment Roman turned his back on her and walked away, he felt the weight of the world disappear from his shoulders. He ignored her shouts of protest. At the same moment, his phone buzzed with a new notification.

            It was a text from Jo.

*

            The text had been brief, she only asked him to please give her some space because she needed to think. Not the kind of messages he preferred, especially since he needed to talk to her.

            Roman waits until the next day, because she always took the same train on Tuesdays, so he would hopefully be able to talk to her.

            She apparently decided to avoid him because she was not in their usual spot. Never mind, he would find her even if it took the whole trip – and find her he did, just fifteen minutes before arrival. She was sitting alone in a corner, headphones on, a book in her hands but she didn’t read it, she stared outside the window.

            She didn’t hear or see him coming, so she startled when Roman placed a hand on her shoulder to signal his presence.

“Shit! You scared me,” Jo said, closing her eyes. “W-what are you doing here?”

“Combed through every wagon until I found you,” he admitted sheepishly. “I got your text yesterday, but I can’t leave things the way we left them on Saturday.”

            There was a long silence during which Joyce swallowed thickly, already sensing that this conversation would be hard.

“Do you want to sit down?” she still asked. And the moment he was sitting next to her, it was like always – comfortable, natural.

“I’m so sorry about what happened. I know Alma is difficult, but I never expected her to-“ He closed his lips in a tight line and shook his head, eyes closed. “Never mind. Let’s not talk about her, she’s done enough damage.”

“Actually, I do want to talk about her,” Joyce said, surprising him. “Not talking about her is the reason why we’re in this situation in the first place.”

            Not particularly happy about this, Roman still nodded in agreement, understanding what she meant, where she came from. She was right, of course. He had started this by not telling her about Alma, so if she wanted – needed – to know more now, he would answer all her questions.

“What do you want to know?” he asked her. “I’ll answer anything you want. I feel so bad about all of it, you can’t imagine.”

            She seemed to ponder the matter.

“Why on earth are you dating the Wicked Witch of the West?”

            Roman stared at Joyce for a beat, then laughed.

“What? That’s your question?”

“I’m serious. In all the time we’ve spoken, you’ve always been nice, well-mannered, put together – probably due to your royal upbringing even if you deny it – so how did you end up with this viper?” Even now, Jo couldn’t help teasing him a bit, and it warmed his heart.

            But his smile slowly dropped, while Joyce’s stare on him didn’t waver.

“Honestly?” He sighed deeply, rubbing his droopy eye with his thumb, then looking into the distance. “Our relationship has always been complicated, but you have to understand, I wasn’t with her because I loved her. I was never in love with Alma, it wasn’t like that.”

            If there was one thing she had to take away from this conversation, that was it. He needed to make sure she knew he didn’t love Alma. They had something… shallow. Something so surface-level he didn’t think twice about leaving her when she showed her ugly side to Joyce. Joyce, who deserved to much better, so much more.

            Jo’s frown deepened and she seemed more lost than ever. Roman glanced at his phone and saw there wasn’t much time left until the train reached its destination, and he still had a lot to tell her.

“Then why?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure how it happened.”

“I don’t follow.” Joyce crossed her arms over her chest, but the gesture had nothing to do with the defensive stance Alma had taken during their fight yesterday. Jo held onto her sweater like it was the only thing holding her together.

“We- well, we started seeing each other casually, at first,” Roman began hesitantly. “Nothing serious, just… for fun, you know? I don’t remember the exact moment it happened, I don’t recall ever asking her out or anything, we just- sort of… ended up together.”

            He looked at her and saw she was holding her breath, waiting for him to say more.

“I guess it felt like the logical thing to do after a while, I didn’t really question it when she started hanging out with me more, or introduced me as her boyfriend. I didn’t mind.” He hadn’t had anything to lose by being with her, not until he met Joyce. Not until he got a taste of what it could feel like to be with something he truly got along with, someone who felt like his person. “But it quickly became mechanical. She gets bored easily and I often didn’t hear from her for days. Until her little display last week, I hadn’t even gotten a text from her in two weeks. Two weeks.”

            Joyce looked outside again, watching the landscape go by as she took in what he was telling her. Her eyes seemed a little glassy now, so maybe she needed to look away from him to recompose herself.

“What does it mean now? You’re going back to your fucked-up relationship with your psycho girlfriend and we pretend you’re not already taken and that it doesn’t hurt?” Her voiced cracked on the last word, and Roman had never fought himself so hard not to take her in his arms – and he had wanted to more than once since they met. “Because it does hurt, Roman. I’m not sure I can go back to how things were before finding out.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

“Then what am I supposed to d-“

            Her sentence was interrupted by the announcement that their train was arriving at their stop. His time was up. Joyce seemed to give up on what she was going to say and began to put her belongings back into her bag.

“I broke up with her yesterday,” Roman blurted out before Jo could run off away and he had to wait another week to see her again. “I couldn’t stand the thought that she had gotten between us.”

            Jo nearly dropped the entire contents of her bag on the floor but Roman’s reflexes prevented the catastrophe and caught it. She opened her mouth to say something but nothing came out.

“I should have done it months ago,” he continued as they walked towards the exit, slowly stepping out of the train and onto the platform. “Alma and I had never been happy, we were just used to being together by now. But I knew it was over after the first time you sat next to me.”

            Jo was shaking her head as she stepped out of the way to avoid the sea of people exiting the train and rushing towards their bus or metro connection.

“Don’t say things like that if you don’t mea-“

“I mean it, Jo.” Roman’s hands shot out and landed on her shoulders. “I don’t think I’ve ever had such a physical reaction to meeting someone. I just couldn’t stay away from you, even knowing Alma would be mad, and it was wrong, and we might all get hurt in the process. Seeing you… talking to you... it was all worth it.”

“Are you trying to make it worse?” she shouted, suddenly angry. She shook him off and took a step backwards. He could tell she was holding back tears now, and perhaps he had pushed too far. Perhaps he had already ruined this beautiful thing they had. “Because right now, it feels like you’re doing everything you can to make it hurt more.”

            It hit him in the chest like a head-on collision, knocking him breathless for a second.

“I- I..” he stammered, unable to find the right words. “I thought-“

“Well, that’s just the thing, isn’t it?” Jo cut him off. “You didn’t think. You acted regardless of the consequences. What do you expect me to do now? Invite you into my bed because you’ve broken up with your girlfriend, whom you’ve hid from me for months, making me believe there was something between us?”

“There is something between us!” Roman exclaimed. Whatever he said, he knew she would take it the wrong way, he was only digging his own grave at this point. His shoulders sagged. “I deserve your anger. But I’ll prove you that I’m serious. I won’t give up on us.”

            She tried not to let is show that it touched her, that he said it out loud that there indeed was something going on between them, that it wasn’t just in her head. Her bout of anger deflated as quickly as it burst out. Joyce rubbed her mouth with one hand, sighing.

“There is no us!” Jo countered half-heartedly, brushing away a stray tear running down her cheek. God, wasn’t that fantastic? Now everyone would see she had cried with her smudged makeup.

“But there could be,” Roman insisted. “I can almost touch it.” He tentatively reached out, but thought better of it just before their hands brushed. Jo shuddered as Roman’s fingers curled into a fist. “Don’t you want to find out what we could be together?”

            He had the voice of a mad scientist of the verge of a breakthrough – of someone so close to his goal he grew desperate. And for the first time, Joyce wondered if maybe, he wasn’t hurting more than her. She shook away that parasite thought before it could take root.

“I want to be with you,” she stated, clearly enunciating each syllable. “Do you understand that? Do you understand that if you push, I will give in?” Her voice was getting raspy now, she found it harder and harder not to burst into tears and run back home.

            Roman’s chest swelled with so much hope, he thought he might burst, but his joy was short-lived.

“Make sure you remember that next time you see me. Because whatever happens now, is on you.”

[1] ‘Shut the hell up’.

#writing is hard #alyssa talks #bill skarsgård

[whentherewerebicycles]

SORRY i have to do dear diary: work problems edition under the cut again

so on monday i volunteered to do this small project with the HR team to wrap up a massive project i’d led earlier (although of course it was one that my lead took over in the last 2% of work and now claims as her own achievement). got the go-ahead from my boss & my lead was copied on all the emails. so i set up meetings with the team today and tomorrow, circulated an agenda, and created a structure for us to use in brainstorming content. my lead was CC’d on all of this because i’m not allowed to email people without her knowing. then this morning she messaged to ask me to change the time of my meeting because she wanted to meet with the HR lead about something earlier in the day. so i was like ok whatever! annoying that you couldn’t find some other time and had to take this time but fine! i moved the meeting, sent out a note to the HR team, and don’t really think anything of it.

but THEN we just had our weekly meeting with our boss, and at this meeting ashley announced that she had met with the HR team this morning, gotten all the material needed the project, and would complete everything by the end of the day. i was just sitting there like “...i’m sorry?” and finally interrupted her to be like “so what should i do with them in the meeting?” and she was like “well you don’t really need to have it now. but you could just sit on the call with them and have them upload these three forms i need and email them to me if you want.” i just sat there gaping at her because what the ACTUAL fuck???? like you already block me from taking on projects and take credit for the projects i DO do and now you’ve escalated to stealing projects I’d claimed & completing them before i can finish them & then telling me that in front of my boss so it looks like either you didn’t trust me to do it myself or i was failing in some way and you had to pick up the slack? and also you make me look stupid in front of the HR team by scheduling your own private meetings with them and not telling me so i’m still communicating with them like i’m coordinating the project? like WHAT is this woman’s deal??? jesus christ!!!!

i have a meeting with her later (which she rescheduled earlier one minute before it was supposed to start without telling me) and i’m trying to decide if i bring it up with her to be like “that really fucking bothered me” in more professional language, or if i just let it go and use it as further fuel to get out of here. i feel like i keep letting things go because they’re annoying/insulting but they’re also just “oh i can explain...” enough that i feel dumb bringing them up because there’s that tiny voice in my head that’s like ‘did you miss something? did YOU fuck up? is someone mad at you? did your boss say yes to your face and then go over your head to tell your lead to do the project for you?’ which just makes me feel all uncomfortable and lowkey anxious even though i’m like if i DID fuck up recently somehow (how could i have fucked up?? i’ve been out for three weeks!!!! i literally have not had opportunity to fuck up!!!) and my boss handled it that way instead of addressing it with me, that’s just terrible management and should not be something i internalize. but AGH the fucking MIND GAMES in this team and just all! the! tiny! ways! my lead undermines me or tries to make me doubt myself. and THEN i have no idea if she’s doing it intentionally or if she’s just kinda shitty at supervising people or at communicating clearly (which is funny because she talks all the time about how she’s such a ~relator~ whose biggest skill is building relationships and communicating with people). idk man it just makes me feel bad and then it feels even worse to stew in the negative feelings all day. like i don’t actually ENJOY complaining i would much rather just have a job where i get to work hard alongside people i generally like and respect and all of my dear diary posts are about how rewarding i find my work or whatever!!! blehhhh okay gotta go do a quick lap around the house before i can face her in 5 minutes. 

#maybe i just need to submit that next application today :-/

[nocturnalswarehouse]

Chapter 11 - Sick Day

Fic Series: At Long Last

Pairing: Brynjolf x Female Dovahkiin|Dragonborn (Adranelle Rolaine)

Premise: Eight years after being declared the Dragonborn, and three years after Alduin is defeated, Adranelle (Adi) Rolaine finds herself back in Riften to help Brynjolf with the Thieves Guild’s reputation.

Masterlist

Taglist: @thequeenofthewinter, @oblivions-dawn

Word count: 1,731

A/N: So my updating schedule up to end of August will be every week on Sunday or Monday because it depends on plans and days off. When school starts, we'll figure it out but it may? stick to Monday's depending on how busy. Either way, I will be continuing to update weekly :) hope y'all enjoy this chapter and let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

Adi's late morning start was unusual since she joined the Guild, with Brynjolf waking her up at six sharp every day. She was grateful he actually let her sleep for once but at the same time felt confused. The Nord was a total morning person and would often force Adi - his polar opposite in that regard - out of bed to start their day. With its absence, it didn’t feel right. 

Walking into the Flagon for breakfast, she noticed Brynjolf was still missing from the crew. That was unusual for eleven, but according to Delvin, he was sick and at home with a cold. “Worked himself ragged worrying about you.” 

“Of course he did.” Adi sighed. Brynjolf had a habit of throwing himself into work when he didn’t want to think about something, and it always landed him in the same spot. If she wasn’t mistaken, Brynjolf was being a big baby and demanding attention from one of the Mercenaries in Riftweald. Or Vald… 

She didn’t usually feel for the guy, but when Brynjolf was sick, he was even more of a pain. 

“What was he even doing that caused a cold?” 

“Finding out about your parents,” Leo answered. After his conversation with Brynjolf last night, the Breton needed answers. 

“Ah, right,” Adi recalled Brynjolf mentioning it last night. “He found something.”

“I’ll leave him to tell you,” Leo nodded. “Did you know anything about them growing up?”

“Nothing,” Adi said. “I mean, Grelod made it clear I was different from the other kids. Someone who’s half-Breton and half-Nord isn’t exactly normal for Skyrim. That’s all I was told, though.” 

“So you don’t even know your surname?” he spoke carefully. 

Adi shook her head. Leo was normally this interested in her life, but for some reason, it felt different. As if he knew something about her. “Why are you so interested?”

“You’re only just curious about that now?” Leo laughed. 

“I have been the whole time,” Adi spoke the truth. Brynjolf being nosy was one thing. Leo clearly didn’t have bad intentions, but she still felt weird about it. 

“I’m just getting to know my colleagues,” he answered. Adi dropped it, not wanting to press but not totally believing him, and they continued chatting. When they got to the subject of Whiterun and Lydia, Leo asked her about her title. “How did you become a Thane?”

“I helped them kill a Dragon,” Adi shrugged. Since Leo knew her birthright, she didn’t feel the need to hide it. Especially with Brynjolf home sick. “The Jarl was grateful for my help and gave me the title, and Lydia is the Housecarl I was assigned.” 

“Well, aren’t you an important person,” he teased. 

“Yeah, yeah,” she sighed. “I hate that I was forced into it, though.” 

“We’re all forced into something we don’t want at some point in our lives.”

“Touche.” 

“Adranelle!” Mercer came marching up to Adi, looking as pissed as ever. 

“Yes, Mercer?” she asked sweetly. 

“I’m going to be out of town for a job,” he told her. “ I’ll be back tomorrow, but as you’ve heard by now, Brynjolf is sick.”

“Yes, yes he is.” 

“I need you to look after him while I’m gone.”

“You’re putting me on babysitting duty?” Adi didn’t mind, she’s dealt with a sick Brynjolf before, but it was the way Mercer asked that annoyed her. 

“I’m sorry. Am I not the one in charge here?”

“Sure, yeah. I’ll get to Riftweald right away.”

“Vald has been given the authorization to let you in,” he told her. “And same rule as always. No snooping.”

“Got it.” Adi deadpanned. How many skeletons in the closet does one guy have for this rule to be spoken every time she was invited in? Not even that, Brynjolf wasn’t allowed to snoop, and he’s lived there almost his whole life. 

“He better recover by tomorrow.” 

“I’ll get him to drink a potion,” she promised. “Somehow…” 

As Mercer was leaving, Leo looked between him and Adi. “So he’s not going to personally escort you?”

“Nope,” Adi shook her head. “Must have something else on his mind; he’s usually a stickler about it.” 

“Try to look into it.”

“Oh, you bet I’ll be snooping,” Adi snorted. “His mercenaries are really easy to trick.” 

“Make sure you share what you find.” 

Adi jokingly saluted him and walked to Riftweald’s back gate, where Vald was waiting. Upon spotting her, the Nord opened the gate and greeted her with a nod. Adi greeted him back and lowered the mechanism to enter the Manor. 

Once she got in, the sound of coughing led Adi to Brynjolf's room, where he remained bedridden and half-covered by his blankets. The Nord was so pale he looked almost ghostly. If it weren’t for the redness on his face and the fact that he was covered in sweat, she would’ve thought he had become one of the dead. “You look awful.”

“I’m dying, lass!” he whined. “I’ve never felt this horrible in my life.”

“You know, you’ve had colds before.” She said. “And if you just drank a potion, you’d be cured.”

“Potions are for the weak,” he argued, leading Adi to roll her eyes. He was okay with taking health potions after a battle. For a cold? He was as stubborn as a dragon. “I’m not going down without a fight!”

“Bryn, you’re sick,” Adi managed to stay patient with him. In this case, the best course of action was to leave him alone for a few hours. “Get some rest, and I’ll check up on you later.”

She didn’t give him much of a choice, shutting the door and taking a walk around the Manor. The home was almost exactly as she remembered, not a single trinket, weapon, or book out of place. However, it was odd that there were no mercenaries to be found. Mercer always made sure there were at least two - one roaming each floor - whether or not Brynjolf was still at home. Today, there were none, and she knew it had nothing to do with Brynjolf’s cold. Sure, he was annoying, but he wasn’t so bad the mercenaries couldn’t handle him. This felt out of place, almost like a trap. 

Adi studied her surroundings closer. She became hyperaware of her surroundings, careful not to accidentally get caught in some sort of boobytrap. Mercer wouldn’t be out of character to set them in his own home. He was remarkably paranoid. 

Adi found a drawing on a table as she continued snooping, deliberately ignoring Mercer’s one request. She picked it up and found it to be a younger Mercer smiling with three other people. It was candid; they were sat at a table in the Ragged Flagon. One of them was an Imperial man, and his arm draped around the shoulder of a Dunmer - whose face was scratched out. Next to Mercer was a man who looked unmistakably like Brynjolf. His hair was long and straight, and his eyes held the same mischievous look that Brynjolf always had. The detail in the drawing that surprised Adi the most was that Brynjolf’s dad - Bjord - held the twin daggers that her friend had stolen the night they met. 

Adi flipped the parchment over to find a short but sweet message. 

Here’s to a prosperous future. 

-Delvin

 Adi smiled at the message and looked at the drawing again. Who knew Delvin could draw like that? He was quite talented. 

Satisfied with her findings - albeit a little disappointed there wasn’t any evidence against Mercer - Adi went back upstairs. She slipped into Bryn’s room, noticing the Nord was fast asleep and grabbed a book from the bookshelf. Adi carefully sat on the bed in the empty spot next to Bryn and began to read Chance’s Folly. 

***

Brynjolf slept all morning and kept refusing the potion until the evening. That was until he developed an unbearable headache. He practically snatched the bottle out of Adi’s hands and downed it in one go. Once its effects worked and he felt better, the Nord dragged his friend downstairs for dinner. He insisted on making something for her rather than go to either Tavern for a meal. 

Adi was feeling a little tired from having to deal with the sick thief, a comedic contrast to Brynjolf’s high energy. She was glad he relented and was feeling better, but his energy levels were almost shocking. Opting to watch him cook dinner and listen to him talk her ear off, she curled up into a chair and toyed with an unenchanted trinket nearby.

“I found this old drawing of your dad earlier today,” Adi said. 

“Oh?” Brynjolf looked up at her; interest peaked. 

“It was of him, Mercer, Karliah, and Gallus,” Adi nodded. She didn’t know Mercer’s old friends personally, but she knew the story of how everything went down. “Karliah’s face was scratched out. Bjord held the dual daggers you fight with.” 

“Ah, yes. The daggers were his,” he told her, not making full eye contact. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It never came up,” he shrugged. “Plus, I’m still not fond of talking about him. When he died…” 

“Bryn,” Adi got up from her seat and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You were young, and he was sick. There wasn’t anything you could do.” 

“You know,” he smiled sadly. “If he were still alive by the time we became friends, he would have loved you.” 

“I’m sure he was a great man.” 

“Thieves aren’t the greatest people, lass.” Brynjolf chuckled. “But he was."

“It’s about their character, not their occupation,” she shrugged. Brynjolf began to spoon food on two plates, and they moved to the adjacent table. They sat in silence, the only sound being the crackle of the fire and their utensils clinking against the plates. 

Being able to be around Brynjolf and not have to talk felt comfortable. Bein in Riftweald with him and no one else, it almost felt like a real home. It was something Adi never really felt, even in Breezehome with Lydia. That felt more like a placeholder while she was a Dragonborn. A safe house more than anything.

“Adi?” 

“Hm?” Brynjolf almost never called her anything but lass. 

“Seriously? I tried to get your attention three times.” 

“Sorry, I’m a little tired,” she playfully glared at him, Brynjolf being the reason for it. “What’s up?”

“Stay the night?”

#tes #tes: skyrim #skyrim #brynjolf x oc #brynjolf #fanfiction #the thieves guild #brynjolf fanfiction #riften #the thieves guild main quest #the dark brotherhood #mercer frey

[xwinchesterxlovex]

Exhale

September 24th 2001

Sam lights his last cigarette. It’s his first day of college. He can’t believe he’s even here.

He is supposed to meet up with some buddies from freshman orientation outside the chem lab. Class starts at 8:00 AM and it’s already 7:54 AM. They might be no-shows. He takes a long drag.

Sam doesn’t honestly know how people in college are supposed to behave. Unless you count the times Dean forced him to watch Animal House. If you’re going based on that, you ALWAYS skip an 8 AM, especially if it’s a Monday.

Not Sam, though. He has goals. He isn’t here on daddy’s money (laughable to even think about). He is going to quit smoking, try to make some friends, and become a lawyer. Sam is done hunting for good. He wants to make something of himself. He just wishes it didn’t mean Dean wasn’t in his life anymore.

God. He can’t even think about it. Sam knows that if he dwells, he’ll end up dropping out. All the pain of leaving, for nothing.

He lets the smoke billow from his mouth, then wipes a hand down his face, hard. Checks his watch again, 7:58 AM. He stamps out the rest of his cigarette and heads in.

-

Sam leaves his first class and pulls out his map of campus and his schedule. Next he's got freshman speech. That is definitely going to be hard. It isn't that Sam can't write a good speech. He definitely can. But, standing up there in front of everyone? His hands are sweating just thinking about it.

He rubs the back of his neck. Then he chews his nails. Cracks every knuckle. He lets out a frustrated sigh.

He pulls out his 'last' pack and lights up.

-

The next morning rolls around and Sam has the worst migraine of his existence. That includes the time Dean knocked him out cold sparring, only to later be thrown against the Impala by a ghoul. It doesn’t help that his roommate snores like an old man.

Sam had managed to cut back his smoking by half on the first day. He only had ten. Today he’ll aim for five.

He checks his schedule, then his watch. He was heading to grab some lunch at the dining hall, but he only has 18 minutes until calculus. His stomach growls.

Okay, having six won’t end the world. Sam grabs out a smoke and lights up as he walks. It’s a beautiful day, same as yesterday. It’s still weird to Sam that the only “weather” here is the occasional sprinkle. He stops outside the math building to finish his cigarette, when he notices someone is staring at him.

He ignores it. Sam isn’t a hunter anymore, there’s no reason this person could possibly be a threat. It does make him a little uncomfortable though, and his cigarette is only half gone.

The guy looks preppy. Polo shirt, khakis, the whole nine. Sam notes to himself to never, under any circumstances, dress like that guy. He might not be a hunter anymore, but no need to stray THAT far from what he knows.

Mr. Preppy saunters up to Sam as though he isn’t dressed like a little kid going to Sunday school. How cute, Sam thinks, this guy thinks he’s tough shit. Sam is ready to take this guy if he has to, but he would rather not get arrested on his second day.

“Hey man, can I get a smoke?”

“Uh, sure,” Sam hadn’t been expecting that. He pulls out his pack of Marlboros and hands one over to Mr. Preppy. He pulls out the zippo he stole from Dean and lights it.

“Thanks. I’m Brady. You?” Sam supposes he couldn’t have called him Mr. Preppy to his face, so Brady works.

“Sam. I’m Sam,” He says it around his cigarette and reaches out to shake Brady’s hand. “So, uh, are you in Calc 1 with Professor Touriev?”

“Sure am. I gotta be honest with you, Sam. Most kids who go here don’t smoke out in public. Bad for their image. They’d rather do lines at parties and stick their powdered noses up at a good cigarette,” Brady takes a long drag and closes his eyes like it’s the best thing he’s ever had.

“I’m actually trying to quit,” Sam ignores the comments about lines and powder. He doesn’t need to get mixed up in that right now. He has enough going against him.

“Oh, sure. Me too. You should try American Spirits. They’re healthier,” Sam figures he’ll have to look into that later. Maybe those could help him quit.

“We should probably head in. I think class is gonna start soon.”

They put out their cigarettes and head in, chatting about starting school and their home lives. Sam lies.

-

December 31st 2001

They’re in Brady’s dorm room getting ready and pregaming to go out when she knocks on the door. Brady lets her in and looks at Sam with a twinkle in his eye. Sam wonders what he’s up to.

“Sam, this is Jess. Jess, this is Sam. I just know we are going to be the bestest of friends,” Brady says with a big fat smile. It always amazes Sam just how outgoing Brady can be. The shots of tequila they've been taking probably don’t hurt either.

He supposes it’s a good thing since Brady is his only friend so far, but Sam really isn’t up for it. It’s bad enough that he and Brady are going out tonight.

Sam quietly gets up and offers Jess his hand, “It’s really nice to meet you Jess,” Sam hopes his smile reaches his eyes.

“You too, Sam,” Jess replies with a shy smile. Sam’s heart gives a heavy thud. Her eyes are as green as grass. It’s hard to tell around the smell of Axe body spray, but Sam smells cinnamon and whiskey on her.

Brady cuts in, clearly oblivious to the moment they’re having, “We got tequila and beer if you want something to drink.”

“No, I’m okay. I had a few shots of Fireball before I came. I’m ready to go when you guys are,” Sam is happy to hear that his senses are still sharp as ever. But, the color of Jess’s eyes and the smell of cheap whiskey make his heart hurt.

“Yeah, let’s get going. I gotta have a smoke,” Sam claims, breaking away from the group to go outside.

“Kinda seems like you took care of that already,” Jess says before he gets to the door. She must mean the weed. That was mostly Brady, Sam only had one hit.

Before Sam can respond, Brady does, “Nah, Sammy here is our resident fag enjoyer.”

Brady can be such a prick sometimes. Sam just rolls his eyes at Brady and holds up his pack of American Spirits towards Jess. He walks out without waiting.

He lights his cigarette and walks down the hall, ignoring looks from people as he passes by. Smoking inside is definitely frowned upon.

Sam chain smokes the entire way to the party.

-

11:43 PM

Sam has been sitting on the sofa, watching the people around him engage in things he only ever saw in movies, until he came to Stanford. He watches someone do an actual keg stand. Shortly thereafter, he watches a couple of blonde girls do lines of coke on the crappy coffee table.

Brady stumbles down the stairs and flops onto the couch next to him. Or rather, on half of Sam’s body.

“Dude. I’m totally gonna fuck Jess.”

“That’s nice, Brady,” Sam really isn’t in the mood to hear about his friend’s conquests. Especially not if the girl in question is Jess. Those eyes.

“Aw come on Sam, be happy for me!” Brady kisses Sam’s cheek and unsteadily stands to go back upstairs. Sam is coming to realize that he is not nearly drunk enough.

Sam gets up to get another beer and checks his watch, 11:51 PM. He hurries to the kitchen, grabs a beer from the cooler and chugs it in one go. Downs a second. Sam picks up one more, but this time, he sips it on his way out of the kitchen. His stomach feels like he’s about eight months pregnant, but he’s had worse.

He heads out to the front porch where everyone is smoking. Sam lights his 18th cigarette that day. So much for quitting.

With a beer in his hand and a cigarette between his lips, he’s transported right back to growing up with his brother, and well. John. Sam moved away from them. Yet, here he is. Same damn bad habits as his family.

As if to put the perfect bow on such a depressing line of thought, his phone starts to ring.

Sam pulls out the Nokia he bought off Brady and looks at the screen. He doesn’t have many contacts yet, so it just shows a number without a name. Sam isn’t sure if he should answer. The little screen says it’s 11:58 PM.

He clicks the answer button and puts it up to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Sammy?” Sam’s grip on his beer falters and it splatters all over his shoes.

“Dean?” He wheezes out.

“I just, uh, wanted to tell you, that I, uh… Happy New Year's, Sammy,” Dean stumbles over his words a little. He sounds miserable. Dean should never sound that way. What’s worse is that Sam knows he’s the reason.

The people around him start chanting, “Ten, nine…”

Sam is feeling the alcohol now. He needs Dean to know how much he misses him, “Dean, I’m so so sor-”

“Sam!” Jess bursts through the door behind Sam.

“Five, four…” people are still chanting as Jess grabs his face.

“Sam? I’m sorry too, okay. I miss y-” Sam thinks he hears Dean say on the phone. He can’t really hear over the fireworks now shooting overhead.

“Two, one! Happy New Year!” People all around them are yelling. Jess kisses him hard right on the lips.

Sam pulls back after a second or two, “Happy New Year’s, Jess. Please, I just need a minute.” She looks a little confused as he turns away from her.

He puts the phone back up to his ear to see if Dean is still there.

Nothing.

#pre slash #samdean #jessica moore #sam winchester #dean winchester #brady #college #stanford era sam #smoking #recreational drug use #fic #homophobic language #winchester brothers #willowpost

[lucysweatslove]

8.25.2022: Journal (+ rant)

Probably TW, can’t tell for sure but I have a lot on my mind regarding weight and my current body and calorie counting and all the things I’ve ranted about before.

Oh and also TW for pet death.

Husband was out of town yesterday, which is not a rare occurrence as he travels to our old “city” for work sometimes to see colleagues, attend after work functions, meet with clients in person, etc. I’m not usually bothered by this, although I miss him when he’s gone, but last night his colleagues had dinner up at one of their cabins which has terrible cell service, and the entire evening my anxiety was sky high because I couldn’t communicate with him to make sure he was okay. They were out late and all I wanted was to call and say goodnight but couldn’t. This made for a terrible night’s sleep, even though I had the bed to myself and some good Oreo snuggles.

This morning I had a bit of a panic when I saw I was training My Replacement today by myself on a very busy clinic day that I didn’t know I could even complete on my own. Usually I have help; today I had none scheduled. Oreo was refusing to eat his breakfast while I tried to get my breakfast prepared (overnight chia oats, added protein powder and a banana) when my husband called. **TW for pet stuff; I’ll keep it to this paragraph.** His friend’s girlfriend’s dog nearly drowned. She was resuscitated but was not stable, and they were going to transfer her to a pet hospital in the city I live in, and Husband asked if Friend’s Girlfriend could stay with us while Pup was in the hospital. Of course I said yes, but our house is a MESS- not just messy but currently “dirty underneath” as I’ve had no time lately. I started to have panic from the emotional news and everything in my plate already. Instead of eating I tried to hurriedly pick up a bit, but I had to start work. Husband orchestrated his day to drive home so he would be home when our guests arrived, but shortly after he got home, his friend called with the worst news for the pup- her organs had failed and she passed away. There has been a lot of pet related sadness lately. My sister’s Guinea pig also passed recently (Monday, overnight), Oreo’s not eating well, I see tons of lost pet flyers and ads, my best friend’s cat is getting older and losing weight on his way out. Friend’s Girlfriend’s Pup was also named Lucy and we have snuggled before, so honestly her death hit me harder than I thought it would. And my husband decided to comment about how bad things come in threes, and with Pip and now Lucy, I’m scared about the superstitious #3 being out baby pug.

In less depressing news, work actually went alright. A resident was working today and she took 1/3 of the patients so I could keep up pretty easily in my own. I couldn’t give too much actual training to My Replacement but sometimes just watching the flow can help ease anxiety. She will start notes tomorrow assuming I have help with that clinic.

I’ve been kind of trapped in this place of not knowing the “right” way to proceed with health stuff recently. My husband tries his best to be supportive, but I don’t think he understands how or why “just have a glass of water” is bad advice/inappropriate when I comment on being hungry after dinner/near bedtime. One, I get plenty enough water- both actual water and water from food intake. I’m not thirsty. I get sick if I drink too much water, actually, so just adding water isn’t a good idea. Two, fluid that close to bedtime may wake me up to pre. Three, water doesn’t actually suppress my legit hunger cues. Four, *my hunger is legitimate and when I complain about being hungry at night the appropriate response is to tell me go eat something. A couple nights ago my bedtime snack was blueberries and walnuts because I was hungry. Husband’s response is well-intentioned I think, because he knows I’m unhappy with my body shape and size and wants to support me in whatever goals I have set, but my primary goal isn’t simply to lose weight/fat. Yes, I’d like that, but not at the expense of losing my connection to my hunger cues again. Not at the expense of my psychological health.

Sometimes I think all people, including the people who know my history and lived some of it with me, forget the hell of restrict EDs, or they just see a fat person now, not somebody with a tenuous history. I think about the message we send to others (the message others send to me) because they have been sent to us, and we don’t realize how damaging and unhealthy they are. If a person who looked even a little “chubby” wanted to lose weight and expressed hunger at non-meal times, I think most people trying to be supportive would give the same “drink some water.” However if a person who was already relatively thin had that same goal, we would realize that’s not healthy and encourage them to eat when they’re hungry. What’s the difference? What’s the message we’re sending? I think the difference is that we are conditioned to think, however subconsciously, that either 1) people who we are as having any amount of “excess weight” don’t actually know when they are hungry or full (eg confusing appetite with physical hunger), and/or 2) actual, physical hunger doesn’t have to be, and maybe shouldn’t be, honored when somebody is “fat.” The messages here to me range from “fat people can’t trust their bodies,” to “only thin bodies deserve a positive relationship with food,” to “hunger is desirable for fat people to ignore.” As a fat person with a former restrictive ED, that last one feels particularly egregious. It glorifies what to me was an absolute obsession. At my “peak ED,” I felt truly addicted to feeling that emptiness. I would chase it. No, it didn’t give me a high from substances, but I needed it to cope. I needed it to feel better. I needed it more than I needed to be a good partner or a good student or a good sibling or a good friend or whatever it was.

Now I want to be clear that I don’t think many if any people are outwardly saying fat people need to get to that level. Nobody I know, even the biggest asshats, have expressed wanting fat people to learn to enjoy hunger and the sensations that accompany starvation (like the low glucose and low BP after an intense workout lightheaded shakes and passing out 🙃). However, there does seem to be a fairly widespread belief that fat people need to just “suck up” feeling hungry- that ignoring hunger is a positive thing. I am fully aware that I PERSONALLY take that to the extreme in my mind- but that’s how my need started. I was told that hunger doesn’t actually mean I need to eat, that I shouldn’t eat when hungry sometimes if I wanted to lose weight, and that played a huge role in MY personal spiral. I worry about the role in plays for others.

Further, the idea that fat people just don’t know how to tell it they are REALLY hungry is ridiculous. Why do people think we know anybody else’s “real” hunger cues better than the person *actually experiencing them?* ALL people can absolutely ignore or misinterpret their body’s signals, and I totally “lost” hunger cues in my ED likely because I was so disconnected from my body. But somebody being fat does NOT mean they have lost those cues. Even a fat person with BED doesn’t necessarily have “broken” hunger cues- many know full well they are physically full and there is something else driving their binges. Really, I think this one comes down to people assuming the only way somebody gets fat is by constantly overeating when they aren’t hungry, and the way non-fat people may rationalize this is that a fat person just can’t tell when they are TRULY physically hungry. This is perpetuated by all the messages about what else can make us “feel hungry” such as dehydration, exhaustion, and heavy emotions. Since those are common experiences among people of all weights, it isn’t hard for us to take a leap and assume this is the cause of overeating leading to weight gain. Which is a whole different topic to unpack for a later date. The point of the rant here is that instead of being curious about what a fat person is experiencing when they express hunger, it’s accepted in society to initially assume that the fat person *is wrong* if a thin person thinks it’s not an acceptable time to be hungry. As if thin people are somehow hunger police. “I succeeded in being thin and therefore I am more qualified to tell you about YOUR hunger than you are.”

I guess my point is, when somebody says “I’m really tired today,” we don’t question how tired somebody is. If somebody says “my neck really hurts today; I think I slept on it funny,” we don’t insinuate it’s not *real* pain. If a light is too bright and it’s starting to trigger a migraine, we don’t tell them it’s a perfectly fine level of light and they’re just misinterpreting a normal headache as a migraine. In all these situations, we accept whatever that person needs to do to safely resolve their physical cue: get some more sleep when you safely can, take a Tylenol and stretch, dim the lights and/or wear sunglasses and take rescue meds. So why, when somebody says they are hungry, is it ever socially appropriate to suggest that the hunger isn’t real or that if it is real it doesn’t deserve to be resolve it may even be desirable.

Anyway speaking of body cues, my body is telling me it’s exhausted. In honor of my exhaustion, I’m going to sleep.

#personal #journal #Lucy rants

[phawareglobal]

Chelsea Price - phaware® interview 464

Chelsea Price shares her experience living with pulmonary arterial hypertension (PAH). She emphasizes the importance of having a good support system, including her church community and connecting with other friends with PAH. Chelsea is grateful for the good days she has and strives to be an active mom for her children.

Learn even more about Chelsea and PAH at www.OutnumberPAH.com.  My name is Chelsea Price. I live in St. Louis, Missouri, and I have pulmonary arterial hypertension (PAH). Shortly after I had my second son, I noticed that my endurance had decreased. I grew up playing soccer, competitive cheerleading, and I was always very, very active. But after he was born, I had trouble going up steps, just couldn't catch my breath. We'd be out in the yard and we'd be playing. The next thing you know, my husband turns around and I'm laying on the ground just gasping for air and trying to catch my breath.

I kind of pawned off on being a new mom, not having the time to exercise. My doctors thought I had anxiety. It wasn't until September of 2019 when my husband and I were on a trip to New York that our view of something being wrong kind of came to fruition. We were biking through Manhattan and we came to this hill and I remember being so frustrated, because he just took off right up the hill and I couldn't keep up and I couldn't catch my breath. I just threw the bike down and went and sat and felt like I was so out of shape.

When we returned, I just kind of brushed it all aside. Again, well, my doctor said, I have anxiety. There's nothing else wrong with me. I was 32 years old at the time, and 32 year-olds don't get sick. After going back to the agency that I was at previously, I started having some chest pain and some back pain. Every day when I would go up the steps at work, I would be rushing to my desk to sit down because I would be seeing spots. Again, this all went back to me feeling like I'm a new mom, I'm out of shape and I just can't keep up. I started doing yoga and my back was still starting to hurt more. I thought I was having a panic attack, one day at work, and had asked one of my good friends to just go on a walk with me.

There wasn't anything to be anxious about at work. It was just again, like you have anxiety, so obviously this is a panic attack. I went to the doctor the following week, which was February of 2020. They said, "Oh yeah, you know what? It sounds like it was just a panic attack." To me that didn't feel right in my gut. Something felt more wrong than just being anxious, so I urged my doctor to do an EKG in office just to ease my mind. My family has a history of heart issues, so that's of course kind of where my head went. They had spotted an abnormality on the EKG.

The following week, my doctor had scheduled an appointment for me to do a stress test at our hospital, but that was also right in the midst of COVID shutting down here in St. Louis. Monday, I stayed home from work not thinking anything of it. I mean, it was COVID, but I was working from home. Tuesday, we kept our boys home from school. They were two and four at the time. Wednesday, my mother-in-law came to stay with us for the two weeks that we were going to be hunkered down. But Thursday morning I woke up and I was in so much pain, my chest hurt so bad, my back hurt so bad, and I'd never felt any pain like that before. So my husband drove me to the emergency room where they started running tests. They noticed that my pulmonary artery was three times the size that it should have been. At the time I did not know what that meant. They ran a ton of blood work and saw that I was in heart failure.

They took me up to the critical decision unit, so I was going to stay for 24 hours for them to figure out what was going on. They took me in to do my stress test and had done the echo cardiogram first. They were like, "You're not doing the stress test. You're in heart failure. You have a hole in your heart," which I didn't know I had. It was about the size of a quarter, so 80% of my blood was just circulating in my heart and lungs, and only 20% was going to my body. Then, obviously compounded all of that onto having pulmonary arterial hypertension, which was diagnosed the next day during a right-heart cath.

When I was in the hospital, during COVID, it was a very scary time because, one, COVID being a new thing, but also now having this condition that I didn't know much about, but the looks on the doctor's faces we're definitely saying that it's something serious. I was by myself because my husband wasn't able to come back in because of COVID protocols.

I had an amazing team that sort of walked me through everything. I was put on oxygen, because my oxygen saturation was dropping into the 70s when I was in the hospital walking just over to the bathroom and back to my bed. They started treatments right away. I was discharged a few days after. I sort of stepped back into the world of now having this rare condition alongside navigating a COVID world.

With having a diagnosis, it was something for me to take action forward, which isn't something that happened initially in terms of being an advocate for myself, speaking out about what had happened. I immediately hopped on Instagram, because I was so scared because the doctors tell you don't Google, and of course you do, and then you see all of the stats of things that may or may not happen in terms of life expectancy. I had two little boys at home and a husband that I wanted to see them grow up. I was so scared that I wasn't going to see that. Sometimes those fears still come up, but at the time it was just, "Am I going to see them go to kindergarten? Am I going to see them play soccer? Am I going to see them turn into little boys?" They were babies at the time.

So having a plan for treatment definitely eased my mind a little bit. Once I was able to get up on the treatments and I started feeling better and I could walk around and I was able to get off the oxygen, there was so much more hope in those moments knowing, "Okay, it's going to be a battle and it's going to be hard some days. Some days I'm not going to feel good, but I'm going to be here and I'm going to have a good life and I'm going to be there to see them grow up and to experience everything with them." That's one thing that just keeps me going on the days that I don't feel good, is that I have these two amazing little boys and a husband of 10 years now that we can live a good happy life even in the midst of something that's scary, because I've responded well to the treatments.

Having gone through it during COVID was scary. But honestly, part of me is happy that it happened when it did, because I was working from home at the time at a place that was extremely understanding of what I was going through. So when I was starting up on the medications and having some really tough days with symptoms and side effects, I was able to lay in bed and to rest and to recover and to hop online for meetings if I was feeling up to it. So I'm glad COVID happened when it did. I'm glad I got diagnosed when I did, because I could not imagine trying to go into an office while battling the initial stages of the disease and getting up on treatments.

For the most part, I tend to try to live in the moment, and that's been a blessing with this disease, because I am 100% type A - go, go, go. Things have to be perfect and all of that. I always wanted everything to be controlled and I wanted to be in control of everything. I think the one thing that this disease has shown me is that you can think about what may or may not happen in the future. Most times, our minds tend to wander further than things are actually going to go, or at least in my case. So I tend to focus, and actually have for the past almost I guess four years, focused on day to day, doing what I can and focusing on what I can control, taking my medications, eating good, walking when I'm feeling up to it and things like that.

I don't really try to linger too much on the future, because it scares me. I think there's a lot of hope coming, hopefully with some new medications that are coming out. I really honestly, in the past couple of years, haven't thought to the future too much. There's been one time since diagnosis that I've really thought about that, and that was a few weeks ago I had some symptoms and things like that after traveling, and that's kind of where my mind went is, "Oh gosh, is it progressing? Am I going to be here?" But everything is looking good and I'm doing everything that I can to control what I can and enjoying every single moment that I have with my family and my friends.

Even before I was diagnosed, we were somewhat involved with church, just different things in our past that we've been through, we've lost a child. So getting a diagnosis, I leaned into my church family, I leaned into my faith, because it's not something that we can carry on our own. So I'm thankful that I have my faith, that I have an amazing church family. My friends and my family have been incredible post-diagnosis, dropping off food. My mother-in-law ended up staying with us for months to help me and help with the kids and my husband. We just have such a good network that without them, I think it'd be a lot darker.

I also, post-diagnosis, found a ton of other friends that have PH that I text with on a daily basis that when I'm having a rough day, we can commiserate. One of my friends and I actually titrate up at the same time on a medication that was really challenging to get up onto. So while I don't love that we both were going through that, I'm glad that we had each other, because I think it made it a little bit easier. We were able to cheer each other on. Community is so important, and having those friendships and people that will be around you that may not understand exactly what you're going through, but can see that you're in a moment of need and can step in and help hold you up is so important.

Day-to-day now, I think sometimes I forget how sick I am. I'm able to go play with my kids and cook dinner and play soccer with them, which has always been a huge passion of mine. That was one of the big goals that I had post-diagnosis and talking to my doctor, is I want to be able to be the active mom, I want to be able to go play with my kids, because my parents were always out there playing with me and I don't want to sit on the sidelines. It took some time and I did have to change my mindset a lot when I couldn't do that initially. So again, it just goes back to just trying to focus on the day-to-day and enjoying every single moment. Right now, I'm thankful that I have way more good days than challenging days.

My name is Chelsea Price, and I'm aware that I am rare. Learn more about pulmonary hypertension trials at www.phaware.global/clinicaltrials. Follow us on social @phaware Engage for a cure: www.phaware.global/donate #phaware Share your story: [email protected] 

Listen and View more on the official phaware™ podcast site

#pulmonary hypertension #phaware #rare disease #lung disease #clinical trials #podcast #PH #asthma

[parttimedragonslayer]

Day 19 (Day 25) - Complete November 24 2023

Picked up the cross training session that was meant to be yesterday. I’m actually missing the heavier gym sessions a little so it was nice to go in for a full weights day. I would normally start a weights session with a 10min treadmill run, but I skipped it today because I wanted to grab the squat rack while it was empty. Did squats, bench, lunges, split squats, tricep extensions and curls. Took about 45 mins, I think, I wasn’t paying attention to the time to be honest. Definitely more than the scheduled 20-30 though. 

Day 21 (Day 26) - Complete November 25 2023

Rest day. 

Ouch. Ouch. Ouch. 

I should not have done so many leg exercises yesterday. This is bad.

Day 22 (Day 27) - Incomplete November 26 2023

Nope, it’s not gonna happen, my legs are still wrecked from Friday. 

Day 22 (Day 28) - Complete November 27 2023

Felt confident that I’d make the run ok. It was only a minute longer intervals than my last run, after all. My legs were mostly feeling better. I should have done this run in the morning, but I slept in instead and ended up running in the dark again. I went through the rice fields this time, and it’s actually really nice running out there in the dark. I’m sure it’s pretty safe as well, but all it takes is one psycho to jump you in the dark and it’s all over, so I guess I’ll try and avoid it in future.

The run itself felt pretty easy. I miscounted my intervals as I was running and I thought I’d finished, but then the timer went for one more. I was actually ok with this, I was fine to run another 5 minute interval, which is not a point I ever really thought I’d be able to get to. In general I’m quite surprised at how well my endurance is coming along and a part of me thinks I might actually be able to do this. 

Also noticed that today’s the first time I’ve actually done the “Monday” session on a Monday.

Day 23 (Day 29) - Complete November 28 2023

Actually pulled myself out of bed early for once. Considered running today even though it’s not scheduled, but I didn’t. I did some bodyweight stuff at home - squats, pushups, sit ups etc. I don’t think it was for 35 mins but I’m counting it as my cross training. I’ve done extra on other days so I think it evens out.

iTomorrow is scheduled for a rest day, but I think I’m going to run anyway as I have the day off for a trip to the licence centre (urgh).

#running #runblr #10k training #10k dairy

[jumpstartingjack]

Closing Day

I left San Diego on Memorial Day Monday and made my way north up the I-15. I wasn’t in a hurry because I didn’t have to be in Pinedale until the following day when I had a meeting scheduled with our realtor to close on the property. The drive from San Diego to Pinedale is around 15 hours, depending on how much you stop along the way. I decided to take the scenic route since I had two days to get there and after Las Vegas I pulled off the interstate on some smaller roads in Utah. My goal was to car camp somewhere along the way, preferably in a more remote area of Utah. The sun set shortly after Cedar City so I had a few hours of driving in the dark before I found a good spot to pull off. I still remember driving through the Utah mountains east of Cedar City and listening to the Utah Jazz playoff game on the radio. I pulled off somewhere north of the I-70 crossing and crashed for the night. I would have slept inside of the outback but since it was filled full with tools I had to sleep outside. I had my inflatable mattress with me so I aired it up and climbed on top of the car where I slept under the stars. I was so tired I don’t remember much after I closed my eyes!

The next morning I woke up with the sunrise and was ready to hit the road. I had to make it to SLC on time to get to a bank to get a check cut for our closing. We needed 5k of “money in earnest” and it was imperative that I have the check ready when I got to Pinedale. I had a harder time securing this than I anticipated. The money had to be in the form of a cashiers check, which I assumed would be a matter of just walking up to a teller and getting the funding. Of course it couldn’t be that easy. The first Wells Fargo I went to didn’t have the capabilities of doing this for me... what? So they told me about another branch that could do this but it was across town. Okay, no big deal. I drive to that location and they had some weird Covid protocols in place where you had to have an appointment to meet with a banker. I couldn’t believe it. I stressed how important this was, that I needed the money to close on a property and they eventually let me meet with a banker that could help me. There were definitely some stressful moments but I had the check in hand and was ready to drive the 3.5 hours north to Pinedale.

The drive up from SLC isn’t too bad, its a drive we would eventually make more often. You hit the Wyoming border at Evanston and then go north on a two lane road to Kemmerer and eventually Big Piney. Just outside of Kemmerer you see the Wind River Range come into view. Its a spectacular range and to think that we would be living at its base! I got into town, and pulled into the Wagon Wheel lot. I called Chase to tell him that I had the check and was on site and he rode his bike over to meet me. It was becoming a little surreal. My next task was to get the title transferred at a title company which was across the street from his office. Once that was done he handed me a rather large ring of keys, most of which didn’t do anything, and it was official. We were property owners! He met me back over at the motel and we talked in the lobby. I’m not sure what he was thinking, probably that this guy from California is crazy and he never thought it would actually amount to anything! He did bring over a little motel warming gift: some high mountain shirts and a bottle of very good whiskey. 

That evening, June 1, 2021, I sat outside the lobby under the carport of the Wagon Wheel Motel as the sun set behind the sleepy little town of Pinedale. I had a glass of Chase’s whiskey in my hand as I looked out over my newly acquired kingdom. The carport had old decrepit flower pots with dead flowers in them. There was a three foot tall decrepit cowboy statue chained to the pole as though it was a priced possession. The wagon wheel sign stood tall along US HWY 191 with a rotting old timey wagon parked beneath its shadow. The parking lot was overrun with litter and weeds and the property itself was just in astounding depths of disarray. As I sipped my whiskey it began to set in... what had we done? Are we insane? Here I am, 1000 miles away from my family, on a rundown property with no job, no income, and a mountain of what ifs in front of me. I felt crazy, I felt alone, I felt scared... but I also felt the weight of adventure and I had an inkling that maybe we could just pull this off. 

[rossalotus]

Chapter 3 - Prejudice 101

Good morning darlings, it is a fine Monday morning in Sydney, Australia and I come to relate my experiences during the last week. I’ve wrote this on Friday but only had time to sit and read it now so please bear with me.

I told you about the Garfield reference guy and he is the main character of today’s story. We scheduled a date for Saturday night at a bar we both knew.

In the meantime we talked a lot and he seemed fine and he asked me if I wanted to add him on Discord to play TFT together on the afternoon before the date. In case you don’t remember, I had put on my profile that I’m a Master in that game and so I said yes. We enter Discord and as soon as I hear him talk, I have the feeling this will lead only to friendship. My brain goes: “Oh, I’ve seen this type, the needy type, I can’t take this.”

Of course, I immediately reprehend myself for that thought since the only reason I had it in the first place is because I have a friend who looks just like him and is like that. So I wipe away that first - wrong - impression from my mind and start listening to him again, getting to know him.

Then, we log off and I take a shower and get ready for the date. I wore a cute skirt and an even cuter cape and over the knee boots. Maybe I overdid it? Maybe. But the bar is a nice one, people would dress up too and it’s always nice to cause a good impression on a date, right?

Well, I get there and the boy is late. Shania Twain wouldn’t approve of him but Carol is horny af and so she does. I look around and realize I’m not overdressed at all, everyone looks similar. 

Good.

Then, I see him coming from the other side of the bar. He’s wearing sweatpants and a hoodie and I immediately reproach myself for judging him for his clothes and here I’ll stop the story and talk about Prejudice 101. 

I have spent years and years judging myself for my thoughts and feelings, believing myself to be a bad person because of them. But here I am, twenty years after the first time I felt like that, to tell you how unfair and ridiculous that thought is. What we think and what we feel doesn’t define us and, in a way, it doesn’t really matter. Stopping, evaluating and rethinking is what defines you. In other words, what you can’t control doesn’t matter, it is what you can that does. Your actions, your judgment. So if you, like me, have been reproaching yourself for things you can’t control, even when you know you acted so that those things don’t matter, find yourself hereby freed from that guilt by yours truly. Again, it is what you can control that defines you, not what you cannot.

With that in mind, during the few seconds between me seeing him and him walking towards me, I rationalized that some people just don’t feel comfortable wearing some kinds of clothes and that is not a bad thing. It could mean he wanted to be himself near me and if clothes were an obstacle for that, he decided to let it out of the way. And I appreciate it. By the time he was two steps from me, I had already disregarded the whole clothing thing.

And then he got into my orbit enough for me to sniff him and that’s when I knew this wouldn’t be anything more than friendship.

Let’s start by making it clear that this is not a homeless person or even someone going through a hard time economically speaking. He owns his own home and his own car (or so he said) and I’m sure no one with enough money to buy a home in this economy would ever buy one without a shower.

He didn’t smell bad per se but he smelled like someone who hasn't taken a shower in a while. Or someone who wore those same clothes for days in a row and didn’t wash them. Sure, I can forgive being late, I can forgive not wanting to wear clothes that make you uncomfortable but is meeting me so insignificant to you that you won’t even shower? Really? Not significant enough to wear clean clothes? To wear a little bit of perfume? Come on.

I was there already and super hungry so we ordered food and talked and though I thought the talk was ok, it wasn’t that nice or interesting. He drove me home at the end and I asked how much I owed him for the date. 

He said: “It depends. Will we have dinner again?”

I first thought we could be friends and I shouldn’t judge people from a first date. Maybe the talk wasn’t that nice because he was nervous. So I replied yes.

This was Saturday night. From then onwards, he kept on texting me every day, at every hour. I didn’t have much to talk about since I was just working and it started annoying me. By Wednesday I was so annoyed I couldn’t take it and just texted him saying I knew what I said on Saturday but I changed my mind, he could send me the amount I owed him and I would transfer. He sent me the bank details and asked if we could still be friends. At this point, I didn’t want to be friends either and so I just replied saying I had already transferred and we didn’t talk again.

So much energy wasted on this, I wanted to give up on apps. Then I remembered that if I do give up on them I will probably not ever have sex again or find love or anything so I went back to swiping but in these three days no one with whom I matched started a conversation.

Hopefully this week I’ll have a nicer story to tell.

#my writing #wallaby love stories #WLS_CH3 #australia

[tloaftyob]

5-2-2023

I broke my fucking leg. I happened on April 6th, 2023 while I was on my way to Physics. What a time to do it, weeks before graduation. What a terrible thing to happen. I was boarding, fucked up, and the next think I knew I was on the ground with my right foot flopping around. It didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would to break a bone, but I guess that’s adrenaline. I was shaking like hell though. Well, it did hurt when I moved it. It hurt like hell, burned. But staying still was alright. I laid there on the grass, calling Ellie, my mom, and Colby. Ellie was over an hour away where she lives, but I just wanted to let her know. I called my mom for the same reason, but Colby was on campus, so I asked him to take me to the ER.

We got to the ER, they took X-rays and told me what I already knew, it was broken. Really bad. As a math major, y=x^3 bad. My ankle bone got jammed up in between my tibia and fibula, and I broke them both. They got me in a bed, and moved me to a room to wait for the doctor to be available. They were going to put me under conscious sedation and move my bones back to where they should be and then splint me up. I laid there for a while waiting. Medical people trickled in, the team. They put some stuff in my IV, my arm went cold, and then I felt tipsy. I was awake but I did not care about what was going on. I don’t even remember them touching my leg, certainly no pain. By the time I was coming down I was all splinted and alone. A few tears ran down my cheeks. I was relieved, sad, frustrated this was happening, thankful that the worst of it was over now that my leg was stable. I stayed there for a bit longer, peed in a jug. Colby was eventually allowed to come in and keep me company, so that’s nice. He got some good pictures of me hooked up to the machines. My parents arrived around the time I was allowed to leave. Although my leg was good and splinted, I could still feel the bones shift when changing its orientation. Terrible clicks and grinding.

I was wheeled to the entrance, and got into the back of my dad’s truck. I sat sideways, with my leg on pillows. We went to my dorm to get my essentials, then to my car. My mom was going to drive me to Ellie’s and stay there for the weekend to help. I cried more on the way to her, this time because of how stressful this all was, how inconvenient it would be, how uncertain the future was. I was hopeful to return to classes after a week.

That wouldn’t happen.

I had appointments, the doctor talked to me, we would meet again Monday to check my swelling, and if it was good we would do surgery the next day. That’s what I wanted. I wanted to be back to normal, bones not moving. Easter was that weekend, so we went home for that. We came back up, I had my Monday appointment and was cleared for surgery Tuesday.

I got there early in the morning, like 6:30AM or something. We got me all ready, hospital gown, IV, hairnet, all of it. My blood pressure was through the roof though. I was so nervous, so dehydrated, so hypertensive that my systolic was over 200 in a few readings. They had me in holding, I was about to get my nerve block, and then they said “No, too dangerous. Go home and get that fixed, come back later.“ so I did. My mom scheduled an appointment with my primary doctor all the way at home, and we went to it later that day. 2 hours away. Damn car ride.

She prescribed me medicine. Then it didn’t work as fast as we wanted, so she doubled the dose and prescribed another. That didn’t work either, so she prescribed me a third. Just barely, I was cleared for surgery a week after my surgery was supposed to be.

All this time, I am just waiting around at home. At this point I learned that my independence was gone. I had to crutch everywhere, I couldn’t live alone. No classes for me. In hindsight maybe I could have asked the professors to set up a zoom meeting and set up a laptop on a desk so I could join virtually or whatever, but it is too late.

Anyways, it is the day of my surgery, second try. I have to be at the hospital at 5:30AM, so we wake up at 4:30AM I think. We get there, do everything, blah. The lady putting my IV in gets a valve, it hurts like hell. She tries again, it works. My hand is still bruised 2 weeks later. I get back to holding, I wait a bit, blood pressure is a lot better. Still stage 2 hypertension, but not too bad compared to last time. They give me some good stuff in my IV, I feel tipsy, they numb my leg with novacane and then block my nerve. They have to it in 2 places. It hurts like hell but the feel good stuff they put in my IV makes me not care, it was really nice.

I can no longer move my leg.

They take me to the operating room. It is cold. There are like 8 doctors there. They put a warm blanket on me, tell me to breathe deep breaths in and out of this mask, and then I forget. Fuck, I wanted to tell them to take pictures! I wake up back in holding. I can neither feel nor move my leg. That’s weird, but expected of course. They bring me back to the room I was first in, Ellie is there. I am so happy to see her and to be done with the surgery. I think I might have cried a bit.

We head home after a bit, I crutch in to the apartment with my leg swinging under me. I have literally no control over it, it’s really odd. I could try to move it, try to send the signals to the muscles, but nothing happens. I have my dad help me move it onto the pillows and blankets we have stacked up on the bed for elevation and comfort. My post-op is in 2 weeks and a day. For present me, that’s tomorrow.

The time between now and then has been spent doing homework, sleeping, watching YouTube, and showering with Ellie’s help. I hadn’t left the apartment in 10 days. Then her grandpa died. He was doing really poorly, and we were going to go home to see him that weekend, but on Thursday night she got a call. We went home the next morning. There was a small family-only gathering at the funeral home on Sunday. We went back up Sunday evening.

Colby broke up with Sarah completely, I don’t know if I mentioned that on here yet. She is not taking it well. She goes from sad to furious right back to sad in days. It’s good for Colby to see that so he can see what he dodged. They still have to live together for the rest of the semester because of complications, but there isn’t much time left in the semester. He came over last last weekend to get out of his apartment and it was fun. Ellie and him got drunk, we all played Mario Kart and BotW. I couldn’t drink because of my percs. They definitely helped with the pain. Especially when I double dosed on the day after my surgery. I just ran out last night. For the past week I have just been taking them at night to help me stay comfy while sleeping. I am celebrating tonight by having a peach schnapps drink. One of my favorites.

I can’t wait for TotK to come out. It comes out the same day as I graduate, but I am not even sure I want to walk across the stage, seeing as I would have to crutch. And sit there in the crowd with my leg and all that. I have to go to campus May 10th to take some finals and do some labs, and I am not really looking forward to that but they won’t let me do them virtually. Meh shmeh.

Yeah that’s about it, I have just been sitting around, watching my blood pressure, lowering my sodium, doing homework, watching YouTube, missing Ellie when she is at work or class, feeling pain in my leg (which now has metal in it, so I am now a cyborg).

Time to get back to some homework.

GOOD AFTERNOON TUMBLR!