#and today my schedule just didn't work out for lunch AND i forgot breakfast again so it was great | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

somejazzinthemorning · 1 year

Text

tightrope. 03

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Original Female Character Warnings: Language Word Count: 7.241 Previous chapter: 02.

Drowning myself in work is my go-to coping mechanism for more than half of my problems.

I'll either resort to racing or tracing brand strategies in an attempt to avoid having to face whatever problem throws my way and, that night, being 11 pm on a Wednesday, my laptop and the small whiteboard on my desk became my saving grace.

Despite the burning eyes and my aching back, after hours sat at my desk, my mind was still racing, high on whatever feelings the brush of his lips had evoked in my body. I fell asleep to the memory of his eyes and the velvet lips.

There was no way to escape it. We were already falling.

I woke up late, the next day.

My phone had a full wall of notifications ready to present me. A single text in the middle of the dozens of work-related emails, most of them answers to the ones I’d written during the night and scheduled to be sent in the early hours of the work day. I only realised I was smiling, probably high on my own expectations, when I felt my smile drop, after seeing who sent the text. Amanda. Not him.

“those updates on the project at 3 am??? r u okay?”

“sorry! i remembered to schedule the emails, but forgot about the notes on the project.” "got some good work done, tho”

"need to take a moment to reread all of your incoherent notes” "all that rambling is… wow” "BUUUUUT come to the office” "the things from the berlin store just arrived, you will love them”

"can’t make it today” "send pics!”

"come tomorrow, then! ill get churros for breakfast”

My phone went back to the nightstand and I pulled up the comforter, wrapping it around myself in an attempt to find some security and calm of mind. I peered out from under the comforter, staring at the dark room, only lightened by some streaks of light created from a gap in the blinds. I was still tired from the night, and my mind scrambled from everything we had shared.

Eventually, I left the bed. My mom was downstairs, and a copy of Shadow of the Wind rested on the kitchen counter while she cooked lunch. Frank Sinatra played on the old record player in the living room and the music continued to stretch around the house as we ate together. Luckily, her birthday party was keeping her busy; busy enough that she didn't remember to ask me about the dinner from last night.

Truth be told: I'm a terrible liar. I would never be able to escape her questions.

At the end of the day, I met Rocco for a workout, in a nearby gym. He was waiting for me, leaning against the reception counter, teal Puma t-shirt paired with an amused smirk; I knew he was more than ready to put me through my paces. And I was right. It only took me a couple of exercises to lay on the floor, panting and sweating."Have you thought about what you're doing next season?" I looked up, in the direction of the voice. Rocco was standing in front of me, holding my water bottle.

I sat up straight and extended my hand to grab it. "Not yet," the water was cold and refreshing. Just what I needed. "Maybe a third year in the Challenge and," I paused to breathe. "You know, the reserve seat. Not ideal, but yeah."

He frowned, sitting down on one of the plyo boxes near me. "But yeah?"

"Yeah. Works." I answered, laying back down on the green turf. The small fake grass ticklish on my legs and arms. "Not much, but it's racing."

"I think I'll pretend you didn't say that."

"Why? It's just how it is."

He cleared his throat, the deep sound making me open my eyes and stare at him again. "Up," he commanded, refusing to help me get up. I brought the hand I'd just held up to the floor, to help me get up.

"I thought we were done," I said. He didn't even need to say anything to make me understand that we were, in fact, not done. "Are you mad?"

“Annoyed,” he turned back to me. “What the heck was that answer? Of course, a third year in the Challenge and a reserve seat in WEC are not ideal. I was hoping for a real answer, not some… whatever that was.”

“It’s the reality,” I shrugged. Instead of turning back and going back to do whatever he was about to do, he just kept looking at me. Not the conversation I was hoping for today.

“You had a plan. What happened?” He asked.

“Nothing happened. I had a plan. And it’s going as it’s possible.”

"Excuses, Eva," Rocco exclaimed. He stepped forward and looked me in the eye. "You have a plan. You know what you want. And you have the talent."

“Congrats, you just solved gender inequality.” I gave him an ironic thumbs up, my mind still scrambled from the efforts of the workout and the encounter from last night. This kind of conversation was not what I wanted.

“You’re more than capable of getting a decent seat next year.”

“As we know,” I wiggled my finger between both of us, “It’s a tough path. Being capable won’t get me a seat. ”

“Locking yourself in an office keeping track of TikTok trends will?” I sent him a look. He held up his hands in defence. “You’re making excuses. There are other drivers fighting for the same things as you are and they are not taking no for an answer.”

“Neither am I.”

"Come on," he chortled, eying me carefully. I could tell that he wanted the best for me, but I was not really in the mood to discuss this at the moment. "When was the last time you actually planned something for yourself, and not just some new fashion designer or boujie vegan chef?"

I felt a little bit of annoyance creeping its way up my spine. I had been pushing myself so hard for the last few months, and I was starting to feel a bit overwhelmed with all the pressure.

“Can we focus on the races I have left to win?” I asked, my voice taking on an exasperated tone. “We can talk about this after I win this championship?”

“Sure.” He bent down to grab a 15 kg power bag from the floor and dropped it off at my feet. "This wasn't planned, but that self-pity is annoying me."

“A punishment?" I took my hands to my hips, a light chortle abandoning my lips. "Burpees and never-ending lounges? That's what you think I need right now?"

"No, no burpees," he said, his grin widening. "But maybe a few extra lounges wouldn't hurt." He was clearly enjoying this. I rolled my eyes and glanced down at the power bag in front of me.

“It was not—”

He cleared his throat, cutting me off, and I went silent. Then, looking at him, I saw that he was grinning at me once again, content. Yeah, it was self-pity. Yeah, the future is scary, especially when you’re a 25-year-old woman in motorsports and your career seems to be stuck.

I took a deep breath and bent over to pick up the bag, the cold weight of it dragging my body down to the ground. Rocco took a few steps back and then motioned me with his head to start.

"Andiamo," he said. “20 steps back and forth. Three series.”

So I did. I started lounging with the bag, back and forth across the green patch of turf on that side of the gym, trying to keep a steady pace. With each step, the pressure of the bag weighed me down. I kept going, pushing forward and gritting my teeth against the pain. When I finally reached the twentieth step, I dropped the bag and breathed out, my body aching from the effort.

By the end of the third series, I had pushed my body to its very limits and back. I sunk down onto the cool grass beneath me, feeling the relief of the softness beneath me—my muscles aching and my body dripping with sweat, my hair matted to my neck and temples.

Rocco sat near me, guiding me through a couple of moves, helping me to loosen my tight muscles and stretch out my body. Despite the big (and somewhat threatening) muscles he had a gentle touch.

“What’s on your mind?”

"Hm?" I frowned, my eyebrows furrowing together as I closed my eyes, feeling his hand pressing down on my thigh, pushing it firmly against the hard floor. I could feel the pain radiating through my body, but I tried to focus on the sensation of his grip.

“You always complain this hurts,” he said. I opened one eye. Now, I could feel the pressure from his grip. Probably something shifted on my face because he instantly asked, “Now it hurts?”

"It hurt before, I was just distracted." I shook my head, closing my eyes again and focusing on the sensation of his grip. “I’m free to feel like shit when things go badly." I let out.

“Things are not going badly,” he sighed, leaving my leg and switching to the other. “You’re simply letting yourself fall behind.”

I took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, my head falling back against the floor. I stayed there for a few moments, my heart pounding against my chest and my thoughts racing a million miles per hour. When I finally opened my eyes again, I looked up at Rocco, this time because I felt my thigh burning with discomfort, he was still looking at me, waiting for an answer.

"Too much." I glanced below while patting his arm. He raised an eyebrow, implying more pressure. "Ei!" I scrunched my nose. He just arched a brow. Sadistic fucker. “What? Are you going to hurt me until I hold someone at gunpoint and ask for a seat?”

“You talk like you don’t have good offers, Eva.”

“What is a good offer? Driving against 19-year-old boys in Formula 3? It’s humiliating.”

“W Series?” He suggested.

“I want to race with men and show people I can win against them.” I sat down. Rocco took his hands from my legs. My muscles tingled with the same intensity my thoughts did. “I like the Challenge because I’m showing them I can do it. But the team does not have a budget to race in other series. And I can’t be a reserve forever. So I can do another year and hope things change.”

“See? You’re choosing to fall behind.” He took a deep breath, understanding my frustration. "You can always look for sponsorship," he said, his eyes focused on the floor. "You have the talent, the connections—"

“I spent my teenage years sending letters and desperately trying to talk to people. You saw how that went.”

“You have results to show them, now. In two weeks you’ll have a championship.” I dragged my hands over my face. Instant regret. Both my hands and face were tingling with the same intensity my thoughts did. “W Series will give you exposure. Will give you points. You need points..”

“Why are you so interested now?” I arched an eyebrow, feeling a bit suspicious. “The year is long. Anything can happen. A lot can change.”

“I just don’t see you planning ahead.” He deadpanned, his expression unreadable. “What if you can’t do another season of the Challenge? Will you be content with just being a reserve in WEC?”

“Why so many ifs?” I asked, still feeling a bit apprehensive.

“Motorsports are unpredictable,” he replied, his voice steady and sure. “I’ve been around long enough to know that. And I’m your coach, not just a trainer. It’s kinda my responsibility to do this.”

“Nah, I’m not having it.” I paused, still not entirely convinced. “Do you know something I don’t?”

Rocco just shook his head. The dark strands of his hair moved in unison. “Eva—” He shrugged. I could see the wheels turning in his mind. Whatever he was about to say, it seemed like it wasn't completely true. "One," he continued; his tone shifting. "I don't want to be left without a job when you get bored of racing." I threw my towel at him, though I knew he was only joking. Unfortunately, he dodged it. "Two," he continued, "you're racing like a pro. You should race with the pros."

At least, in one thing he was right. I was racing like a pro.

On the other hand, I was not acting like one.

My team and my dad, the main sponsor, were the only support I had. Despite having other offers, none met our expectations. I had been a third, fourth, or fifth driver for too long. I had spent too much time in the garage, running simulations, and taking part in test sessions. Years of it. Each of these experiences had demoralized me.

Racing in the Challenge, learning with my team, taking time to understand the car and driving it to a podium made sense to me. Standing in the garage and hoping for someone to get food poisoning or COVID was not only morally wrong but also quite dull.

“Did you make this whole drama when Rio told you he wanted to stop racing and just go to college and become an engineer?” I asked, getting up from the floor and picking up my towel, still lying on the ground.

“It was worse actually,” my trainer said, following me. “I think I almost killed him when he told me.”

“We make quite the pair, don’t we?”

He smiled and nodded. “Yes, you do. Your poor father has his hands full with you two.” We stopped walking when we reached the locker room. “Go have a shower and get some rest.”

The second I reached my locker and opened the wooden door, I reached for my phone, looking for a message that hadn't arrived. Pathetic. A part of me considered taking the initiative and being the one to call or text him but, to be honest, what was left for me to say?

I had already told him everything by asking him not to kiss me and I might have told him even more by refusing to let go of him.

The office smelled of churros, so I knew Amanda was around. Either that or someone else had the same idea as her.

Familiar faces smiled back at me as I crossed the corridors and the work areas until I finally reached the common area and took one of the available seats. Since I had chosen to work remotely, and only visited the office casually for occasional meetings or when I needed a place where I could focus, I wasn't given an office.

The room was filled with the buzz of people chatting and the occasional laughter, making me feel a bit out of place. I knew most of them (read: I knew their names and which projects were under their purview), but rarely talked to any of them. Amanda, one of my friends from college, and the one who had introduced me to this agency was the only one I regularly talked with.

I sat down in my chair and pulled my laptop out of my bag. After talking with Rocco yesterday, I decided to take action on my career and spent last night looking at emails and reading my dad's notes on the sides of those he considered important enough to print. So, when I opened my laptop, my screen showed me my Notion board, which honestly felt like a showcase of my own failures. Not the first thing I wanted to see that morning.

A knock on the glass divider of the office made me lift my head up and find Amanda on the other side of it. A beautiful purple jumper highlighted her beautiful curves; her hair was pulled up in a ponytail. In her hands, a white box.

I waved at her.

“Vamos,” she motioned with her head. “Before anyone tries to steal these from me.”

I smiled and grabbed my laptop, zipping it up before getting up and walking towards her. “You know I have an important weekend ahead, right?”

She laughed, opening the box. “A churro won't weigh you down, don't worry.”

I took one of them and walked near her to the cafeteria. The morning light was soft, and the day was not too warm. Ideal to sit on the balcony and talk for a while. So, that's what we did. I grabbed coffee for both, while she walked outside.

The sunshine on my skin was just a slight warmth as I leaned on my chair, and the smooth breeze of the morning cooled off my skin. Traffic sounds in the background, the ruffle of chairs and the occasional bark of one of the dogs playing on the balcony of the start-up that shares the building with us.

While having a sip of her coffee, I noticed Amanda's eyes widening, and I could practically see the bell ringing in her mind. Instantly, my brows were drawn together. Brace yourself, Eva.

"So, I heard on Twitter dot com…" I rolled my eyes at the last part, and despite provoking a small chuckle from her, she didn't stop talking and her gaze still remained twinkling mischievously. "Carlos was in Mugello last weekend."

Oh, for fucks sake.

"If that's what Twitter says, it must be true."

"Yes. So," she paused. Her head tilted slightly, honestly looking like a pup who saw a threat in the distance. "Did you two talk?"

I shook my head; my fingers busy on the handle of my mug, desperately trying to seem unbothered by the question. "Nah, we didn't talk."

"You sure?" She asked, her eyebrows raised in suspicion.

"Yes, I'm sure," I said, my voice steady. "It's not like we're friends or anything."

"That's too bad," she murmured, a hint of disbelief in her voice. "It's not like Carlos and your brother are still like, the best of friends and maybe— maybe he went there to visit him and you end up talking?"

I sighed. "Stop it."“You're a terrible liar, Eva.” Amanda said bluntly, her gaze intense.

“Amanda,” I said, my voice stern and my eyes piercing. "Stop it."

“So, you talked.” Amanda gave me a knowing look. "I knew it. I saw those tweets and I realised we had barely talked this week, and that only happens when you're too busy overthinking. And then boom, I woke up to dozens of notes made at 2 am? You always go to bed early." She crossed her arms, her gaze still intense. "Come on, just tell me what happened. If it’s not him, it’s anything else. That worries me too. I'm here for you, no judgement."

I sighed. "Fine," I said, setting my mug down and leaning back on the chair. "We talked. A lot. We actually had dinner."

Amanda's gaze softened, but then she frowned again. “Dinner? The three of you?”

“The two of us.”

"Just the two of you?" Amanda's eyes widened in surprise, lips smiling brightly. I nodded to her question. "What did you talk about?"

A part of me wanted to end it there. The other part of me needed some guidance. And Amanda was a friend, she always had good advice. On the downside, she loved to gossip. But we were friends. Guidance. But gossip.

I shrugged. “Just normal things. Racing.”

“Okaaaay, that’s good.” At this point, her lips were curving up like she was the one having dinner with him. I couldn’t decide if her reaction annoyed me or made me happy. "So, what now? Are you going to keep in contact with him?"

I shook my head. "I don't think the dinner changed anything.” Liar.

“Eva,” she propped her elbows on the table. “You’re a terrible liar. Spit it out. What happened? If you don’t want to talk about it, tell me that. Just don’t lie.”

Talking about it would make a big deal. A bigger deal, actually. I dragged my hands over my face, tired and confused. Thinking about it was challenging enough and I truly didn't want to transform all my confusion and emotions into words. Amanda, on the other hand, couldn't hide the fact that she wanted the truth, her gaze so strong it almost made me melt over the iron (and obnoxiously red) chair I was sitting on.

So I told her. Every single detail. From the glorious vision of him under the bright lights of my garage, which for a second made me feel like I was living in an alternate world, through the call at dawn, to his gauze under the beautiful sunset glow. His warm, velvety lips brushing against mine. I told her about the “I think I might have loved you, too”, and the way that even in my dreams I couldn’t seem to forget his scent when he hugged me goodbye.

I felt so exposed, so vulnerable, as I spilled my heart out onto that small table, and when I finished all I could hear was the sound of her sigh. A ridiculous rom-com kind of sigh.

“I just feel like we messed it up because of pure desperation,” I said, crossing one leg over the other and looking around. “He messed it up. I think we just missed each other so much we… I don’t know. Got confused on the feelings?”

“He messed up?”

“I didn’t kiss him back. I just asked him to please, don’t.” It was more ridiculous saying it out loud now than when I recalled the moment in my mind.

“You’re even stupider than I thought,” was her answer. I arched my brow. “The guy cooked for you, at his place, told you he “thinks he loved you too” and tries to kiss you and now you’re mad because he didn’t text you?” She paused. “What the hell will he say? Of course, he won’t text you. What would you say to someone after being denied a kiss? Text him yourself.”

“No.”

“Why not?” Why not? I asked myself the same question. Because I can’t trust him to stay. Better, because I can’t trust him to not leave. “Don’t be stubborn, come on. Just by looking at you, I know you’re dying to get that kiss.”

“Can’t we go back inside and talk about work?”

“Oh, no, missy.” She shook her head. “Those AB tests can wait. I want to talk about you and how you’re so dumb you might lose the chance of your life.”

“You’re exaggerating. As always.”

“Eva.” She was stern, her eyes burning on me. “He was your best friend. At least try to mend that friendship. Even if you don’t want anything else. Whatever the reason.”

I sighed, bowing my head in defeat. Amanda had a way of making me see sense, even when I didn't want to. "And if I can’t see him as a friend but still can’t give a step in the other direction?”

“Then, you give it time. Just don’t give it too much space.” She got up from her chair. Mug on one hand. The empty white box on the other. “Remember how that worked up last time.”

Fact one about Amanda: she was probably the most curious person I knew. Any arguments in the office, celebrity rumours or gossip of literally any kind she knew by heart, down to the last detail. And while that was remotely irritating, especially at exhausting times, like during Amber and Johnny’s trial, or when (especially when) the news broke about Pique and Shakira's divorce, it could also be a blessing. At least from my point of view. Perhaps all the stories contributed to her having a broader view of relationships and, as a result, being so good at giving advice. Fact two: there was no one more insistent than her, so, evidently, she couldn’t leave the office without reminding me to text him.

It was 5 pm, and I was utterly absorbed in the presentation for the new restaurant. I was head down, consumed by the details of culinary and marketing analytics, and, to tell the truth, my mind was so focused on this project that I couldn't really think of anything else.

Amanda was getting ready to leave. Jacquemus purse over her shoulder and a strong pink lipstick on the place where a less saturated one had been during the day.

“You stay?” She asked me.

“Aham,” I briefly made my eyes leave the screen to look at her. “I need to finish this. Next week I’ll be too busy.”

“You leaving for Italy on Monday?”

“Tuesday,” I corrected her, my eyes going back down to the laptop. “Don’t want to leave this to the last minute.”

“Okay. I’ll try to have a look at it before you leave. Also,” my eyes went up again. “Send the man a good luck text.”

I sighed, rolling my eyes at her. "He doesn't need my luck text.”

Amanda nodded, her eyes still twinkling mischievously. "Okay, send him a whatever text, then. An emoji. Like his Instagram story.”

“I’m afraid liking his story won’t work.” I leaned back on her office chair, which I had taken in the middle of the day when she needed to leave for a meeting and left me to use her small office.

“Text him, then. Anything. I wouldn’t let Carlos Sainz escape, but you do you, babes,” she shrugged, turning her back to me to walk to the door.“Enjoy the weekend. Besos!”

“Bye!”

I didn’t text him. Of course. In the same way, she was insistent, I was stubborn.

Actually, let me rephrase it.

I didn’t text him then.

Mid-afternoon, Rio had called inviting me to dinner, and when I asked about the kids, he told me he had booked a nanny, so they would stay home. It was either business or pleasure. I didn't need to ask; as soon as he mentioned my dad was invited, I knew we'd be discussing business. And after Rocco's worries last night, I knew it was partly my business, too.

My nerves were on edge as I prepared to leave the office. They only worsened as I neared the restaurant - a way too fancy place for a Friday dinner with the family.

Crossing the sidewalk, my heels clacking on the cement, my head spinning from the long hours in front of my laptop, and the anxiety building in my chest, I looked inside. My dad was seated at the end of the table, with an empty seat to his right - the seat I was supposed to take. Marjorie was already waving at me. Smiling politely to the man standing at the door, I said, "They're waiting for me." He nodded and let me enter.

My eyes drifted to their table, and I allowed myself a few seconds to study the mood. They were laughing, but my palms were still sweating as I settled in for what would surely be an uncomfortable conversation.

"Sorry, traffic," I said, punctuating my apology with a kiss on each of my parents' cheeks. "Am I too late?"

"No, no," my dad said, his voice warm and comforting. "Your brother was about to tell me something, but you just distracted him. Go ahead, Fabrizio."

I turned to him, curious.

"I'm sure we can wait a bit more. Just... after the food," he said.

"Why are you so nervous?" Marjorie asked, her violet fingernails softly laying over his arm in a gentle caress. "It's something good," she said to me. "Don't worry."

"Are you pregnant again?" my mom asked.

"No! No, no!" my sister-in-law responded quickly, her voice almost echoing in the room. Even Rio seemed surprised by her rapid response. "It's Rio's news. Not mine."

“After the food, then,” my father said.

“I hate it when I do that,” I muttered to my brother, grabbing the menu from the table and letting my eyes drift through the print. “You haven’t ordered yet, right?”

My dad shook his head. "We were waiting for you.”

I glanced at the menu one last time before setting it back down. My dad's hand called for a waiter and, after the young man left, the conversation resumed. As usual before any Grand Prix, the race weekend was the matter on the table and, that night specifically, Carlos' penalty was the urgent matter. Ferrari had the pace and Carlos had the skill, but as I sat there, hearing my brother and dad's input on how wise the choice had or hadn't been, my attention diverged to the DNF he had suffered in Austria, less than two weeks ago. Vivid images of the flames engulfing the car, the heartbreaking words on the radio, and the cheers that echoed through the crowd as his teammate stepped onto the top step filled my mind.

One feeling the glory, the other one consumed in ruin.

“Good luck out there this weekend.” "Don’t pull another Austria. That one was scary.”

Done. I’d texted him. For better or for worse, it was done. And I didn’t have time to put the phone back in the purse before it vibrated again in my hand.

“Thank you. I really need it.”

I checked the time.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“I’m resting." "Listening to my teammate rant about food, but resting.”

“Why? Did you tell him about the cheese-less pasta you tried to feed me?” “If I expect Leclerc to teach you something is how to cook pasta."

"He’s a terrible cooker.” “I’m better learning it from you.”

"I’ll be sure to give you a lesson someday."

"I'll hold you to that."

"What are you smiling about?" Marjorie asked, my attention immediately being grabbed from my screen to the table.

"Nothing, sorry," I said quickly, tucking my phone back into my purse. "Amanda just texted me about the work I was finishing.”

"Ah, Eva, if you put that effort into racing…" he said, as the waiter came back with our food. I tried to ignore him, especially because there was no use fighting back his comment.

Even with the food on the table and the anticipation to find out about Rio’s news tugging on my chest, the conversation didn’t go further from Formula 1. My dad, a lifelong Italian Ferrari fan and a very biased Carlos supporter was ranting over the lack of professionalism he was sensing from the team and how the choices they repeatedly made ruined not only the drivers but the prestige of the team. Nothing new. Rio and I have been listening to the same tirade for a long couple of years and nothing seemed to change, even after the amazing start to the season the team had.

“I had my reservations at first, but you could be a nice fit for the team, actually”, my dad said, pointing at Rio, with the knife he was using to cut his steak. Rio looked confused at him, and then, at me. “Have they given you an answer?”

What?

For a moment, I felt like I’d fallen on a different table, a completely different conversation. My gaze shifted from one to the other, confused by my father’s question.

“Who’s they?” I asked. Marjorie was biting her lip; her violet fingertips on my brother’s arm, once again.

“Ferrari,” my father responded, clearly stepping over my brother’s feet. Rio seemed bothered; clenched jaw, restless fingers that Marjorie tried to calm by positioning hers over. “Are those the news?” He asked him.

Rio nodded, his jaw unclenching and his lips transforming to a slight grin. "Yep. They offered me a job." He looked around the table, his gaze caught mine for a second but quickly left again. “I need to let them know my decision until Monza.”

“You applied for a job at Ferrari?” I asked. Honestly, I was so confused I couldn’t piece all the things together. “We’re doing so good at the Challenge, you could have waited for just one m—”

“Eva.” My dad interrupted me. The strong stern voice pulled my attention. The authority value of his words over the sweet comforting voice of the beginning of the dinner. The mood had definitely shifted “Wait? You’re the one that’s always urging the team to aim for higher heights.”

"Exactly. The team won't do that without Rio."

"But your brother will. And so will you." I tried to interject but with no success. He continued before I even had the chance to talk. "You can't possibly think your brother would stay with the team knowing he could have this huge opportunity."

"I didn't know about any opportunity." I was replying to my father, but my eyes were directed to Rio. "What about the team? And the Challenge?" I inquired.

"In less than two weeks, the championship will be over. I have no doubts you will win it. You're just losing time there," my father's tone was bothering me, but the fact that he was still cutting his steak as he talked was really aggravating my temper.

Rio, on the other hand, didn't react. His expression didn't even shift. He remained silent, eyes shifting between mine and dad's face. In his silence, though, he was telling me much more than he thought.

"This is not a formality," I said to my father. "Can you please look at me while you talk about our future?"

Finally, he put down his cutlery and remained silent for a few seconds. Deep blue eyes looked up at me, cold and serious.

"There's no future for you if you're afraid to take a serious step," he said finally. "I won't let your brother get stuck in the Challenge when I know he can do so much more. I won't let you make him fall behind because of you."

"Because of me?"

"Why else would he stay at the Challenge?" I stayed silent, feeling my fake sense of confidence being stripped away with the weight of my dad's question. The answer that my conscience gave me was selfish and I refused to say it out loud. I was afraid of staying alone, rather, I was afraid to see Rio flying solo in the higher aims I ambitioned for me and not being able to carry along. Only if he waited, we could jump up together. "Why would he choose anything less than Formula One?"

"So, you have it decided, then?" I asked Rio. "How did that even happen?"

His tongue crept in between his lips, eyes wandering on my face, afraid to reach my eyes. It was making me nervous. Not just because he was about to leave me, but because he didn't tell me about it, prior. My dad knew about it. He even thought that I knew about it. And like a lightning bulb lighting up on my head: Rocco knew it, too.

"It was proposed to me. The job. At Silverstone, a few weeks ago." Even though Rio was stuttering, and his words barely constructed a sentence, piece by piece it all fell together. "Apparently, Carlos talked to someone about you. About the Challenge. And he mentioned me, my results..." he explained. "Carlos invited me there for the Grand Prix and surprised me with an interview."

Why didn't it surprise me? Carlos. The “right time”, of course.

"Your results? Why hide this from me?” I asked, looking around the table. “Clearly, everyone else knows.”

“I wanted to tell you, but didn’t get the chance to do it.”

“But what?” I asked, half defeated, half annoyed. Angry, even. There was so much going on inside me, I couldn’t think straight. “You just said you had the interview in Silverstone. Weeks ago. You had plenty of opportunities.”

“I knew you would snap and react like this,” Rio tried to justify himself.

“Snap? I’m not—” I paused and took a deep breath. At this point, I was seething with anger. “I’m asking questions. I’m not… snapping.”

“You should be happy for me,” I would if I didn’t feel betrayed. “I know you well enough to know that you would react… badly to the news. Especially if you knew Carlos was involved**.**”

Even though his name was blinking on my head, in bold red letters, I tried to set apart his involvement in this story. So, I carried on,

“And you’re just going to do it? Leave the team, the whole project and ditch us? Without even consulting me?”

He shrugged. “I’m consulting you now.”

“This is not a consultation, Rio. Please.” A pause. “This is you telling me what you’re going to do, without even considering my opinion or the team that’s behind your great results.”

“Go ahead.” He made a gesture with his hand. “What’s your opinion, then? You are the one that’s always telling me to aim higher. This is my dream. Always has been.”

“What? Formula One? I thought your dream was to drive in Formula One. Or was that before you noticed you’re a shitty driver? Enlighten me.”

“Eva, enough,” the deep voice cut me off.

I felt like I was going to burst. I wanted to scream, to cry, to express my anger somehow. But my dad's stern gaze kept me in my place. I felt completely helpless and unheard.

“You’re being ridiculous,” said Rio, cutting through the silence. “Childish, even. Ungrateful.”

“Ungrateful? I’m not the one leaving.”

“Why does leaving need to be bad?” The question settled in for a second. “Grow a bit, and maybe you’ll get some good opportunities too.”

“Sure, maybe then my friends will get me jobs, too. Is that what you mean?”

“Enough.” My dad's fist hit the table, loud enough to silence us, but not to the point of attracting too much attention.

My gaze lingered on his clenched fist on the table. I nodded, forcing myself not to say anything else. I placed my napkin on the table and got up, making sure my chair wouldn’t make any noise when pushed back. Before turning around, I paused briefly, my gaze now resting on my brother. “Good luck with your new job.”

It didn't surprise me when I saw Carlos fly through the track the next day, setting amazing times in the qualifying session, despite the penalty waiting for him for the race. He was dancing with the car, tracing beautiful lines within the colourful ones Paul Ricard was known for. Carlos would start P19 the next day, only ahead of Magnussen, who also had a back-of-the-grid penalty.

I traded the interviews for a dip in the pool and lingered there for the remainder of the afternoon. Perhaps because I was not the best person to have around that day, my parents had left just before lunch and didn't get back until after dinner. Alone, with music echoing throughout the house and the crippling anxiety the events that week had provoked, I felt myself get lost in the doubts and uncertainties.

My phone rang when I was already getting ready for bed. On my nightstand, the name Carlos appeared over an old photo of both of us. Like I couldn't control it, I walked to the phone and sat on the bed. I let it ring a few times before picking it up.

“Hi,” he said. I just looked through the window, to the dark backyard. “No good luck text today?”

“Guess not.”

“And why's that?”

“Did you know Rio had an interview to work at Ferrari?”

“Yes...?” He paused. “Is that a problem?”

“Did you know he got a job offer?”

We both fell into a moment of silence. A long sigh stretched through the line. I closed my eyes, not sure what to expect from the conversation. The next time his voice was heard, it was more serious.

"Can we stop asking questions instead of answering them?"

"The timing is funny," I said. "Just that."

"What do you mean?"

"You coming to Mugello? Was that a coincidence?"

"Eva, what?" Carlos was silent for a few seconds. "Don't make this into a drama," he said. "Rio is talented and if he got a job offer it's because he earned it. The things are not remotely related."

"I'm not complaining about him getting the job."

"Then what are you complaining about?" Carlos asked.

"That it took you years to finally come back and talk to me and it happened just when he got a job in your team. Did you really want to talk to me or did he make you do that?"

"I didn't do it for him," Carlos said. "I did it because I wanted to see you."

"I wish I could believe you."

"And why don't you?"

"It's been three years. Coincidences don't just happen."

I could hear him breathe. Silence weighed down my chest. He wasn't denying it. He wasn't telling me why he was there, that night. "Can I see you this week?" He asked me, before a long sigh.

"No."

"I'll be in Maranello for a few days." I bit my lip, shaking my head to the void. "You'll be in Imola, right? I can go there—"

"I don't want to see you." I talked over him and then paused for a brief second. "Don't show up there, please. It's an important week and I don't really need more distractions."

“Eva, por favor.”

“Good luck tomorrow.”

I put my phone away and let myself sink into the bed, feeling nothing but the warmth of the comforters on my skin and the instant sense of security that came over me. I allowed my eyes to close and my mind to drift away, and before I knew it, a prayer for Carlos came into my thoughts.

I prayed for strength for both him and me, for us. I knew that, whether we were on or off the track, we would need to find a way to get through whatever was to come.

Next Chapter: 04.

Thank you for your support in the previous chapter! Carlos will become a more present character in the future. Pinky promise. Don't abandon me until that happens, please! <3

#tightrope #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 x reader #fanf1ction #carlos sainz angst #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz jr

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ros3ybabe · 10 months

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Daily Check-in - July 28, 2023 (Late) 🎀

I forgot to post my check-in last night!! I fell asleep so early, I was so tired. I got home from work around 5pm last night, and I think I fell asleep around 7pm? Yesterday also was not a good day day for. My supervisor yelled at me in front of everyone for asking a question about work on Saturday, and it's now Saturday morning, and I have no answer. I decided not to go to work today because I feel like my.body can't really handle if right now, so it works out either way.

🩷 What I Ate Today:

Breakfast - One slice of toast with mashed avocado, paprik, a fried egg, and a side of one chopped up gala apple.

Lunch - A small serving of spaghetti with meat marinara sauce, grated parmesean cheese, some broccoli, a babybel, and half a brownie that my co worker gave me.

Dinner - Fried potato slices with ketchup I regret this, but today's a new day and a chance to make new choices

Other - I had 2 cups of coffee with French vanilla creamer

Water ~ 41oz

🩷 Workout - Full Body Pilates

This one was nice and easy and I really enjoyed it ! I actually wish it was longer! 9.4/10

This one was really good, but it was way more advanced than I was hoping it would be, so I struggled a bit with some of the movements. Not a bad workout at all! 8.6/10

🩷 Habits I Accomplished Today

Made my bed

Morning workout

Morning Skincare

Morning guided journal

I fell asleep so fast after work that I didn't even have time to do anything. I'm not very happy about that but I guess my body just needed the rest!

🩷 Song of the Day: Calm Down - Rema ft Selena Gomez

This song keeps me level-headed when it comes to situations at work or with my boyfriend, and just in general, I feel like this is a soothing song.

That's all for the 28th, lovelies! I am so sorry that I've been so inconsistent with my goals. Work has been killing me, and I still have to do this for another two weeks before the university begins again, and I can go back to my regular job and regular schedule. I'm just hanging in there until then!

Until next time, lovelies!!

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vxnillite · 4 months

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is this hurt/comfort

maybe, but instead of a ship, it's my oc and their mother figure at work :D

i forgot how i format this stuff

Characters: Noah ©️ me, Nina Cortez ©️ @smoldoddles (the bestie ever)

Word count: 2436

set just a few days after the RDA left Pandora in the first movie when, I assume, those who stayed continued operation of Hell's Gate

Breakfast. Check.

Coffee. Check.

Daily avatar exercise. Check.

Morning routine check on the staff. Not quite.

Nina, back in her human self for now, breezed through the SciOps lab doors and made a beeline to one particular desk station. All of the owner's documents were cleanly and perfectly stacked, their pens neat in the pencil holder, but the thinnest layer of dust had made the desk its new home. Nina held the overlooking lamp and frowned when she felt it. Cold.

"Where's Noah," she asked, looking forlorn at the abandoned desk.

The scientist stationed opposite Noah looked up from her work. Usually quite cheerful, Angela answered without her signature smile to light her face up. "They haven't come in today, Dr. Cortez." She sighed heavily. "They didn't come back yesterday after lunch."

Nina recalled breakfast that morning. She'd reported to the mess hall a lot earlier than usual, but only because she woke up rather early that day. She, then, finished breakfast before the first wave of staff came in for their own, and since Noah was usually a late riser, Nina didn't expect to catch them at the mess hall. The decision to go on about her morning like usual suddenly felt like a crime, guilt and disappointment in herself crashing down on the doctor. The only relief she could afford herself at the moment was a quiet sigh.

Angela must've heard it though. "Well, it's not like we're keeping up attendance anymore, right, Doc?" She tilted her head as she cracked a half-smile. "I heard Noah fought alongside the Na'vi in the fight 3 days ago. They're probably just tired from that."

Nina thought it was a good point. She straightened herself up and said, "I'll go check on them."

"I hope they're just resting. Surely, they'd need as much of it as they can get." Angela replied. Her eyes fell on the empty desk across her before meeting Nina's gaze again. "Tell them I miss my desk neighbor, yeah?"

Nina smiled and nodded at her before turning on her heel and heading back out the door. Her route now would be short, just a few turns then down the elevator to the level below the labs where the SciOps living hubs stood, now far less occupied with just about half of the residents left. While that meant there was a shorter waiting time at the showers, the remaining staff of Hell's Gate were now at the phase of figuring out how to run the facility with less than half of its people left. As someone who was higher than most on the political hierarchy, Nina had become a supervising figure for the continuing operation of Hell's Gate, not just of the SciOps division. Part of the reason was her seniority, but another was her military experience, which made Nina the ideal person to also direct the SecOps division in the Colonel's absence. In turn, though, her schedule was almost still as packed as it was before the rebellion.

But Nina had finished her rounds on both SecOps and SciOps, and everything was more or less running perfectly. So now, Nina was going to attend to a more personal task, one that she was taking on as both Noah's senior and, more importantly, as their friend.

Nina knocked twice on the door of Noah's quarters. "Noah, it's Nina," she called out. "May I come in?"

No answer.

Fearing that history was repeating itself—this was only the 2nd time ever that Noah had disappeared from the labs—Nina pulled out a security card and tapped it on the scanner next to the door. The light changed from red to green.

That security card was such a handy tool that the security staff gave to her after her informal promotion to SecOps supervisor. Nina had used it to sneak into the pantry for a midnight snack once already. But while her use of it now was rather invasive at surface-level, Nina knew better than to let Noah lock themselves in their room to wallow and rot in self-pity, even in spite of recent events.

The last time Noah had shut the world out, it was because theirs had shattered. Now, it would seem that it was happening all over again.

But much to her surprise, then worry, Noah was not in their quarters. The bed was made but cold. It didn't seem like Noah had just gotten up and left for the showers or something. Nina surveyed the room more closely. A black oversized jacket, Kevin's, was hung over the desk chair. Noah's data pad was missing from its charging pod. Their boots were missing, too.

'Where could they be,' Nina thought worriedly. As she surveyed the room one last time, she briefly wondered if Noah had ever even been in this room since the rebellion. It seemed as such.

If that was the case, then waiting around for Noah to come back wasn't the best thing to do right now, Nina decided. So she left the room. The door somberly closed behind her. For a moment, she stood in the middle of the empty hallway in quiet thought.

While doing her rounds that morning, Nina had asked every person she could if they had seen Noah. Alas, her little investigation had been fruitless. More "I think I saw"s than "Yeah, they were here"s than she would have liked. Their own living quarters had been the last on her mental checklist, but now she was thinking they could be hiding out somewhere else. But Kevin's old room had long been occupied by a different person, so Noah couldn't have gone there.

So maybe... it was a different soldier's room they were in.

Nina made a pitstop to the records office, where she found just one guy working on his computer. He was the only one from his department to defect.

"I'm a little busy right now," Alex hollered without looking up from the monitor. He seemed more stressed than mean, but there was a sprinkle of the latter.

Nina kept walking toward him. "Alex, I need a favor."

Alex stopped immediately. "Dr. Cortez," he stammered as he swiveled his chair in his direction, a crooked smile forced on his face, "I didn't know it was you. Um, what can I do for you?"

"Room assignments, you've got them, right?"

"Sure do."

"Great. I need Harper Zdinarsk's. SecOps."

Not a second was wasted as Alex pulled up a new window and rapidly typed the name into the search bar. When the results popped up, he read out the needed information, "Harper Zdinarsk. 129 in the SecOps wing."

"Was it ever accessed," Nina asked.

Alex scrolled down to the room access history section. He paled at what he saw. "Opened via DMT 2 days ago." His voice shook the tiniest bit as he added, "But this soldier is dead, one of the casualties from the fight."

Nina hummed. "Was her body found?"

"No, but we assumed she was dead because she wasn't with the people who went back to Earth." Alex swallowed nervously, his trembling hands glued to his desk made Nina pity the poor man. "Doc, are we being haunted?"

"Psh, of course not."

Satisfied with the information she got, Nina began walking back out of the room. Just as she had a foot out of the door, she looked back at Alex, smiling cheekily at the spooked man. "But if you hear something creepy, maybe just log that into the records~"

Nina spared herself a giggle at her own teasing before refocusing herself as she was a few paces down the hall. The SecOps living hubs were just around the corner, and as if Eywa herself had blessed Nina that day, Room 129 was just the 3rd door.

She knocked. "Noah, it's Nina. I'm coming in, okay?"

The steel door hissed open as Nina pocketed her security card. Then, once the door closed behind her, locking out the noise of Hell's Gate, she heard a voice she was sure did not belong to anyone currently in that dark, unlit room.

"Why are you filming me," Z asked, a laughter carrying her words from a distance. "Am I on the observation list today?"

Noah laughed as well, their voice louder. "Yeah, I'm filming a worrywart in her natural habitat, and she's once again worrying about if a blade of grass would strike and poison me. Oh, no," they dragged, "I got stung, ah!"

"Oh, whatever shall I do," Z replied with a playful, exaggerated eye roll. It was weird to see her not locked and loaded with her gun just dismissed to her side.

The camera wobbled as Noah groaned dramatically. "It hurts so bad, oh my god."

In a split-second, Z's carefree expression hardened and she approached Noah. The closer she got to the camera, the clearer the worry was on her features, furrowed brows, a stiff frown, but a contrasting softness in her eyes. "Hey, wait, are you serious right now?"

The camera stopped shaking and Noah responded in a monotone voice, "Nah."

Z clicked her tongue, and Noah laughed again. Nina found herself infected by the cheerfulness of the avatar behind the camera, so did Z, it seemed.

Then, the video ended.

The light was now open. Noah, the one who was sitting on the edge of Z's bed, hovered their finger over the play button. Their data pad laid on their lap, no doubt forcing them into a very uncomfortable position for their neck. Still, they were unmoving apart from the hand tautly fiddling with the hem of their oversized shirt. Stencil-printed letters on the left chest read "SecOps".

Beside them, Nina sat silently. The ache in her chest was growing close to unbearable. The sting in her eyes was demanding relief. But she kept herself together, observing Noah. Instead of the play button, their finger dragged the video track, stopping when the screen showed a clear shot of Z grinning at Noah in the video.

Silence. Unbreaking, unmoving silence as if the world itself had stopped. It would only continue if Noah pushed the play button.

They didn't.

Nina couldn't see Noah's face with all their hair covering them like a blanket, but their head never moved from its position looking directly down at the data pad. They stewed in the quiet for a few more seconds before Nina reached out with a gentle hand. When her hand had barely even grazed their back, Noah grabbed onto Nina, whose mind surged with worry as she held Noah's body, frail and trembling. Yet their hands clenched fistfuls of Nina's coat like they were holding on for dear life. The data pad slid onto the floor, but neither one cared.

Noah crumbled into a state Nina had never seen them in before, crying their beaten, desperate heart out into her shoulder. No words were spoken, then again maybe they couldn't make it past the tears. But Nina felt all that grief, pain, brokenness. Soon enough, Noah's cries were pushing onto Nina's mind images of the people she herself had lost. Her own arms began to tremble, but her hold of Noah did not falter. Rather, she fastened her arms tighter around them and pulled them even deeper into her embrace.

"It's going to be okay, Noah," she said, her voice cracking under her own tears as she rubbed the young doctor's back while fighting back tears of her own. A sniffle escaped, though. "It's going to be okay."

More sobs. Some Noah choked on. Their tears, their mourning, their yearning. It all felt endless.

"Just let it all out."

Noah heaved. Whatever strength they had during the battle was gone. Now, they felt as fragile as a glass ball. The slightest hit would shatter them completely. But they managed a few words, "She's gone, Nina… It's all my fault…"

Nina pressed her cheek on Noah's head, caressing it gently. At that moment, with her eyes closed, she saw a familiar head of ginger hair. The grief almost knocked Nina over like a tidal wave. But she stayed strong for Noah.

"Don't blame yourself. Please." Somehow, it felt as if she was talking to herself.

Noah shook their head, but anything they might've tried to say got caught up in their grief. Nina was all too familiar with how that felt like.

Metal clattered to the floor, interrupting the two as Noah flinched straight. They looked down at the fallen dog tags with a panic in their eyes as they reached down. But Nina saw clearly that they were not Z's tags that had fallen, and she swiped them away with her foot. Noah snapped their neck up at Nina, who shook her head.

"It's not hers."

Noah abruptly looked down on their lap, where Z's tags were, both clean as a whistle.

Then, Nina gently put her hand on Noah's. She smiled gently.

"When did you get them," she asked.

Noah answered slowly, "Before the celebration with the Omaticaya." They hung their head low. "I…snuck back out to the forest. I'm sorry."

Nina hushed their worries down. "Alex said they couldn't find Zdinarsk's…" She cleared her throat and spoke again with a firmer voice, "They couldn't find Zdinarsk."

Noah sniffled, then breathed out shakily. "I buried her." The tears started flooding their cheeks again. "I'm sorry. I didn't—I had to. I couldn't leave her there… I'm—"

"It's fine, Noah." Nina held both of their hands and squeezed them tightly. "I understand, and I promise I won't breathe a word to any soul about it."

"If Mo'at finds out—"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there."

Nina let go of Noah, but only to put Z's tags into their hands. She, then, balled their hands into fists over the metal before raising her hands to part Noah's hair, tucking as much of it behind their ears. In the bleak overhead light, the young scientist looked like a corpse. Nina tried not to frown, but she was only really concerned.

"I'll get you something to eat, okay?"

Noah nodded weakly. Nina got up, quickly peeling from the floor the dog tags that had fallen earlier.

Once again, Nina stepped into the noisy hallway. The tags felt like blocks of lead on her conscience. She hoped Noah didn't see who it actually was on them. Briefly, she looked down at her hand. What stared back at her were a cold, lethal demeanor and the eyes of the man who let all hell break loose mere days ago. The eyes of the man she, fretfully, loved.

#avatar oc #avatar james cameron #avatar fanfiction #oc #too lazy to tag #hurt/comfort #angst #have u ever lost the love of ur life #yeah it was kind of noah's fault a bit #nina cortez #she's mother but like in a literal sense

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pbandjesse · 1 year

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I successfully made it to work again today! It was rough. And I was a little short with my coworkers. But I survived. And honestly I had a good time with the kids even when I was frustrated. I got lucky with a really well behaved group.

I slept alright last night. I was supposed to wake up early and go to work with James but I couldn't do it. I needed the other hour. So James left to go to work and I slept.

I woke up and got ready to go to the museum. I didn't feel great but I was determined. And James needed some stuff they forgot at home so I had to go.

I drove out there. Stopped for breakfast. Was glad the woman at the window seemed to be in a good mood today. I ate my hash browns in the car before I went in. I actually saw James walking across the street when I was turning so we got to wave at each other. And then I would see them inside very soon.

I was not in a great mood. I didn't feel good. I was trying to hold it together but I was very short with my coworker who was not pulling their weight. But I went and set up my program and was like. I'm done. This is the only one I'm leading. I'm not setting up someone else's program.

But with me reminding them to the would eventually set it up. But then they forgot a few things and I was like. Hey. And honestly I am going to glaze over a lot of the first two hours because I was so unbelievably frustrated.

The group came a half hour early. So we started 15 minutes early. People weren't where they were supposed to be and then there was confusion about when the program would end. I was not confused but man. Was I annoyed. The coworker thought when Jessica said we could take them to the car to waste time that we should end early to go to the car. No. Then their intro to the program was all messed up and confusing. Like I know what the program is and I didn't understand what she was asking. It was really hard to watch and I kind of laid into her just a little after. Like what are you doing?? And she literally told me she was rushing to finish and I'm like. Why??? It was not fun for me. At least the kids still had a really good time and built their roller coasters and I'm just glad they had fun.

I took over at the end to split the group onto two. Because half would go to lunch first and the other half with me for a neighborhood tour. And I was really glad to have control again.

And it was a fun neighborhood! They liked their costumes. They bought things. They were so cute. We did finish up a little early and have time for the car. Which was nice. It was a super small group of 8 so I could really get into it with them. And we had lots of laughs and it was good. Especially because I didn't feel well, I was super grateful I didn't have to speak to loudly.

I was so tired at the end. I really appreciated the schedule Jessica made cause my group had lunch the last half hour and I could just be done. I went and ate my sandwich and talked to Jordan and then went to sit with James at the front while I worked on my embroidery.

I would end up taking a volunteer to be the machine shop to point out some weirdness with the belts. He's part of the crew that comes and repairs them so that was cool to talk about.

And back at the desk I enjoyed sewing. James went to have lunch. They got me a donut earlier so I got to have that. Becca came and chatted with me. I got to show off my coat and that was cool. And then soon enough James was back and let me leave an hour early. I did stop to talk to Jessica for a little bit. But I really wanted to get out of there.

I am glad I don't have to work for 4 days. Cause I am not doing great still. I am exhausted and it's hard to catch my breath. But I am trying to be positive.

So I stuck to my plan and still went to Target and old navy. I got myself a birthday dress that made me feel so cute. Yes it is just another black tank dress but it's a little special with tie straps. And it was $7. And I also got myself a new earring, just the one, and I deserve a nice little gift after working so hard not to buy things.

I stopped at Michaels next to get black embroidery floss. And then to target for some body products and stuff to make s'mores this weekend. I got some insane sales? Like things on the shelf being 75-90% off? No idea why but it was cool. Love a sale.

I went to five below to look. And then drove to chipotle for chips and cheese and they gave me a large for the price of a small. Which confused me because it was half what I was expecting and the girl was like. Just take it. Leave. Appreciate you girl.

I took sort of a long way home. But once I was back here I was happy to eat my chips and put things away.

I did some camping packing. And pulled stuff out we might need. James wouldn't be home until 8 because of the new gallery opening event tonight. So I tried to get a bunch of what we need together and then get into art.

I finished my embroidery and drew out the next one. I am bringing everything I need for this weekend to keep the project going and worked on my Valentine's day card for James. I would spend some time laying with Sweetp on the couch. And eventually took a shower and washed my hair so it will be clean all weekend and not something I need to think about.

It has been a nice afternoon. Even when I almost fell when I was standing on the counter because I didn't know the cooler I was trying to get down was full of stuff and I almost died. But I survived. And soon James was home!

They would get some more camp stuff together for us. And we watched tiktoks together. And now they are dozing and I'm getting ready too.

I hope you all have a good night tonight. We are heading to the cabin tomorrow. Which has a late check in but that's okay! We will go have lunch and slowly make our way out there. I'm looking forward to this weekend. No idea what service will be like. But I'll keep you updated! Good night everyone! Sleep well!

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keefwho · 7 months

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October 30 - 2023 Monday

3:06pm

Still thinking about what I want to do with myself to start changing something. I think constantly trying to express myself is a good first direction. Its just barely started helping me get a grip on who I am and made me feel a little free like I used to. First and foremost anything I feel is valid and my wants are appropriate, until I determine they aren't. I guess I'm trying to take a sort of "innocent until proven guilty" kind of approach with myself because I'm too used to shooting myself down right away. This is a sort of extreme opposite response.

Its hard to know when to act on something. I can't constantly keep trying to figure things out because it gets tiring and inefficient. Maybe it's every time I feel stressed/sorrowful which is unfortunately very often because I feel like my problems go deep. Maybe every time I feel like writing or talking about it means I can do something to address my current state. I know I want to do acting more than talking, I've fallen into the talking trap. I know I used Daisy to feel better under the guise that a "talk" will help but it usually doesn't. The occasional emotional support is healthy but I've caught myself wanting to talk basically all the time like she's my therapist. It's not fair to her and not effective for me so I will be cognizant of that moving forward. That being said, there are some things I think I do want to talk with her about as long as I can confirm to myself that it is actually needed and I'm not just overcommunicating. I intend to do this right because I care about whatever is going on between us. Dare I say it's one of my top 3 priorities.

I feel afraid to admit that sometimes because I'm reminded of a previous dynamic where the other party was so interested in me but I wasn't reciprocating in the way they wanted. In my case it made me distance from them even more because I got more and more uncomfortable. But I sorta led them on because I didn't want to let them down and at the same time I was convincing myself that I wanted to be there. But I didn't. So I have unfounded fears that I am that same position but I'm the one caring too much and pushing her away. It's the only experience I have which kinda sucks.

8:17pm

Another evening spent feeling a little forgotten. I don't have any reason to on the surface and I know that. But I feel like this a lot and that's okay. As long as I come to terms with it I can figure out how I want to proceed. I'm just so tired of every day being a fight. Its like nothing can be good. Even if things are, I assume they aren't going to last and catastrophe is just around the corner. I so rarely feel okay anymore.

10:46pm

I don't really wanna talk about my day right now but I'll at least summarize. I have lots of weird feelings right now and way too much on my mind.

Breakfast was a jimmy dean sandwich and rice. I had to go to the store to pick up some water and soda and my weekend drinks but they were out of water. Mom was supposed to pick some up for me when they got more in today but she must have forgot. I'll live as long as I get it tomorrow. Stream went well. I remember doing Inktober well and the commission. I ran out of things to work on though because I needed responses from people but I worked the rayman meme thing I had with Daisy's horse.

Afterwards I did my workout well, I was a monster on the treadmill. Also cleaned up just a bit before showering again. I took care of myself while I was at it which made me late to lunch. Lunch was some more homemade soup I've been making lately. Its a really good meal, especially after a workout. Since there was no way to stick to my usual schedule, I made sure to revise it and stick to the new times all day. I got the request done quickly and finished that rayman pic before moving onto a drawing of Zipp I had on my desktop. Afterwards I played some Cities, some dungeons, and watched Twitch kinda on and off. I took care of myself again because I was stressed out I guess and wanted a distraction. Daisy called at bedtime and we chatted just a little bit before she fell asleep.

I think I want to make this blog only about recounting what happened on a given day and I might make a new one for my deepest darkest feelings. If I do that it might be on a different website and totally anonymous. I should probably just have a physical journal to write in or a notepad file or something but I do want them to be maybe potentially witnessed by strangers. I just want to be seen in a way. But since I'll be dumping some pretty heavy and specific stuff it's gotta stay extra secret.

#journal #diary

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iankarlo · 2 years

Text

It's Me, Hi, I'm The Problem, It's Me | 64th

Since I slept early last night, I woke up around 4am. My eyes still feel tired and I still wanted to stay in my bed. I cannot get another moment to sleep, so I browsed to my phone while waiting for my eyes to get tired again so I can sleep. I was watching Anti-Hero MV and I am still feeling it. I read some tweets and articles and I happy to read good reviews. Although there are a lot of bashers as usual, but I still choose to read the good ones. I know to myself that this is such a good album and I cannot really contain my happiness and I extremely amazed how she managed to produce this kind of music. The collaboration with Jack Antonoff is really brilliant and all songs are insanely good. I am currently obssessed with it.

I fell back to sleep around 6am and I woke up arounf 9am. I was thinking if I will go to work or just stay in my room and clean my terrace. I was planning to prep a meal too but too lazy to make my own breakfast so I just drink water to lessen my hunger since I'm trying to do fasting. I am influenced by Ae. He really influenced me a lot to do fasting and I think it's for my own good too.

I arrived in the office maybe 11am. I bought my own lunch and buy a little snack too so in case I feel hungry in the afternoon. I still feel productive at work and I finish my desired task that day. I was talking to Ae when I arrived and he is such a cutie. I like talking to him and the way his eyes close when he smile makes my day, oh my God!!!

It's cute that before he leaves, he tapped my back saying he is about to leave and I really appreciate it. It's just a small gesture but I find it really sweet.

I left at work around 3pm and I went to SM to buy some cleaning materials and a drying rope. I also bought some trash bins, basin and toilet bowl cleaner etc. I went to grocery too to buy some stuff. I bought some bread, milk, eggs, meat and canned goods so when the time I no longer have money I still have some food to eat.

I cleaned my room and washed my underwear. I cannot remember the last time I washed my clothes. Cause its not really my thing like I'd rather clean s messy room or toilet than wash clothes. There is something in there that makes me feel sick and it is sucking all my energy. That's why my Mom prefers to do it for me. I miss my Mom!!!!

Around 8pm my friends and I went to a local coffee shop called 727. I ordered Coconut Espresso, Jehan ordered, Orange Espresso and JE, ordered Dark Horchata coffee. We ordered a pasta too but I forgot how it is called. It is good but it is quite expensive.

Our goal actually is take pictures only because the place is very aesthetic and Instagram worthy.

There a cutie dog there. It is like a giant toy poodle and her name is Seven. She is really a cute dog that you wanted to hug at night. She id very adorable and very calm. We took some photos of her but there are a lot of customers that took photos with her and we didn't manage to take a photo with her.

I enjoyed our coffee date and I really like my circle of friends lately. Although there are times that we have misunderstanding and short comings I still enjoyed our vibe. We are very open and I really like talking about life with them. Even in our silence we understood each other.

But, of course, nothing beats my coffee buddy Mel. She is my all time bestie really who knows everything about me. She is my other half and my source of hope when I'm in need. I miss her a lot and I wish pur schedule will align soon so we can hang out too.

Anyway, it was a long day for me but it is good.

Good night. That's it for today.

Love always,

iankarlo

#christmasjournal #saturdayoff #workstress #friends #jihuuun #je #æ #taylorswift #midnights

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saikostories · 3 years

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MHA - Enough

"ACID BLANKET!"

"RECIPRO BLAST!"

"TENEBROUS ABYSS BODY!"

The training room was bursting with everything from flames to acid as Class 1-A pushed themselves to train for the Provisional License Exams. The students were putting everything they had into working for the exams, ignoring their exhaustion and weaknesses to achieve their goal.

"DETROIT… SMMAAAAAAAASHHHHH…!"

Izuku splintered for what seemed to be the hundredth rock that day with the sole of his foot, sweat dripping heavily from his forehead. He'd been training all day, even before it had officially started. To become the hero he'd wanted to be for his entire life, he had to put his entire soul and body into this. He had to get his license to fulfill his dream of becoming a hero. There was no other option.

"You're getting better, Midoriya." All Might's voice wafted up from beneath the rock Izuku was standing on. The student looked down to see his former teacher staring up at him. "Good work."

"Thanks…" He was panting and out of breath, but he was so excited about what he'd been practicing that he continued on. "I've been studying the force and trajectory of my foot… as it travels through the air… considering my quirk's extra power… and body mass… to find the most efficient way to destroy the targets… without harming myself or my costume… and also-"

"Midoriya, you really need to work on that muttering."

"Huh? Oh… s-sorry, All Might, I don't… even realize I'm doing it out loud… till someone tells me, heheh…"

"I see." He paused. "You seem out of breath. You've been working hard?"

"Yeah…" Izuku swiped his sweaty brow. He would really kill for a water break about now, but he didn't want to rest just yet. There was still so much he needed to work on. "Training late last night… and I woke up early, too."

All Might smiled. "That's very 'plus ultra' of you," he chuckled. "But… in all seriousness, make sure you're not working yourself too hard. Good health comes before training any day."

"In order to get my license, I have to work harder, All Might. I have to do better than I am now or I won't be good enough. I'm going to push myself in these last weeks. I have to."

All Might hesitated, clearly wanting to object but acknowledging the truth in his words. "True, you're going to face some tough challenges in these exams. I'm proud of your hard work thus far. Keep it up and you'll be sure to get through this."

"Thanks; I will!"

Izuku soon returned to his training as All Might moved onto another student. His focused his newfound energy into kicks that were twice as powerful than before. It stung, but that was the price for getting his license. A price he was will to pay.

He had to work harder, even if All Might might not like it. Because, his mentor had spoken the truth, even if he hadn't realized it.

Keep it up and you'll be sure to get through this.

"I can do this," he whispered to himself, clenching his fist, "to be a hero!"

He sucked in a breath, trying to compose himself before another foot smash (I really need to name that move, already). His body ached with hours upon hours of exertion and no break, but he drilled his mind to focus on the task at hand.

Heroes didn't give up because they were tired. If he was going to be able to help people, he had to spend every moment his time proving he could do it. Proving he could be the symbol of peace. Proving he was enough.

"MISSOURI… SMMMAAAAAAASSSHHH!"

No matter what it took.

"My whole body hurts," Uraraka whined as she wandered up to Izuku. Training had just been let out for the afternoon, room taken over by Class B. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving. I'm ready to eat something and then relax for the rest of the day."

It sounded tempting. But, Izuku looked back at the training course the new students were beginning to train on. They were filled with an energy and potential Izuku was scared he wasn't able to compete with,

If I'm gonna win these exams, I have to step up my game. No time for breaks.

"You go ahead," he suggested. "I might do a little more training. I can catch up with you guys later."

"Even more? We've worked hard all morning," Iida approached his talking friends, expression troubled.

"Yeah. I just want to be ready for the exams." Because, in all honesty, he was really doubting himself and his abilities right now.

Uraraka frowned. She looked a little worried for him. "Are you sure? I think maybe you should just take a break. Everyone needs to sometime, and you can always come back later!"

Izuku smiled at her concern. "I'll be fine, Uraraka. Really. You guys go eat lunch, I'll meet up later." He was hungry, too, but the thought of getting in even more training hours was more appetizing. I have to get that license.

"If you say so. Just… don't overdo yourself, okay?"

"Okay." Why did everyone keep on saying that to him?

Iida and Uraraka left, and after a quick swig of water, Izuku moved from the training room to the yard. He'd practice outside for now.

The rest of the day, he more or less spent training. By evening, he was worn out from all the exercising he'd done, but he felt good overall. Stronger. Smarter. If he kept at this, he'd be so much better by the time the exams rolled around.

I'll just work hard in these last few weeks, he promised himself. Harder than I ever have in my life. If I want to be a hero… I have to be good enough!

Energy levels boosting his determination at that moment, he didn't really take into account what "enough" even was. Or if, when he got there, he'd be satisfied…

Izuku struck to a strict schedule throughout the fifteen days he had left before the exams.

Mornings, he'd always wake up at five and start to stretch in his room. He'd begin exercising at six, not even using All For One; he wanted his whole body stronger, not just his powers. He didn't know what he'd be faced with in the coming trials. At seven thirty, he'd be so pumped up to actually train by then that he'd sneak downstairs and practice his moves outside (forgoing his thundering, verbal "smashes").

Official training started at nine thirty, and he was always eager to start. He appreciated his teachers' comments, as they helped him get better as they criticized his moves from an outsider's view.

And getting better was good. It was the best thing he could hope for.

Around eleven, sometimes he'd start to realize he'd skipped breakfast. He didn't mean to, per se, but sometimes he was just so excited to train that he forgot to sit down and eat something. As the days rolled on, it turned into more of him being too tired to go downstairs than anything else, however.

Well… he could be faster on an empty stomach, right?

When training ended, his friends would all head to lunch. Izuku would usually make some lame excuse about having a big breakfast, or that All Might wanted to speak with him about his training and he had to stay behind - either way, he never followed them. He would always slink off to the courtyard, any faults he believed he might have needing to be improved right away. He practiced everything from super moves to long distance running, traveling across campus and sometimes even to town. He trained all day around his classes, blood pumping with non stop adrenaline.

He felt like he was flying at times. He just hoped he wouldn't crash anytime soon.

When he finally got back to his room, he immediately crashed on his bed, exhausted. He often fell asleep around twelve or one AM. But, the need to get even more exercising in woke him up earlier and earlier each day, like an itch he could only scratch by moving around. He was almost addicted to it, literally not able to sleep at this point, even though he was tired. His brain was just too wired up to rest. So, he woke up every morning and did it all over again.

And he would train.

And train.

And that was his sole priority. Who cared about whether he was getting barely one meal in a day? Who cared that he was sleeping for only a couple hours each night? Who cared that somedays his energy broke through the roof and some days he felt on the verge of collapse?

He didn't. He couldn't.

He ignored his body's suffering because he could, and didn't care about the possible damage he was doing to himself. There were more important things to be concerned about.

Izuku's friends were getting worried about him, though. He was good at hiding his troubles, but even he couldn't hide his exhausted face. By day four (yes, he was keeping track), they started to mention his weary looks until it became almost a daily routine.

"You're as pale as a ghost, Midoriya," Todoroki would say to him soberly as the class marched off to training in the mornings.

"Are you shaking now?" Uraraka would tell him worriedly, brow creased as she took in his figure, which was slumping a little more every day with fatigue.

"It would be wise to take a break," Iida would suggest after Izuku told him he was going to town for a jog for the fifth time in three days.

Even Bakugo seemed to take notice his withering state, on day seven sneering, "Maybe today will be the day you finally pass out."

He always made some excuse that would eventually satisfy them, but he was growing frustrated with this. Come on, how bad could he really look? He felt fine (well, most of the time) - in fact, he felt like he was soaring above all his troubles as he was able to accomplish so much in so little time.

But, he once looked in the mirror and was surprised at what he saw. A pale face sagging with exhaustion. Hair that was dirty and without its usual shine. Dark purple bags lying underneath bloodshot eyes.

A part of him knew he should stop. But, his sleep-deprivation made it hard to think as clearly as he would've and he didn't think he had done enough, yet… after all, the exams were just around the corner. He only had to continue like this till then. Six more days.

He could do that. He nodded as he sucked in a breath. I can do it.

Because he had now time to do everything he wanted to.

The only thing he didn't was to relax.

Before he knew it, the end of another week was approaching. The exams were only in a few days (it was day twelve), and Aizawa had suggested they all show off their news skills to their classmates to "attempt to boost their stamina in preparation for what was yet to come." Class 1-A was extremely excited about the idea, everyone eager to boast their moves they had been working hard on.

Everyone except Izuku, that was. He thought he'd jump up from bed this morning, ready to continue on in the tireless way he had pushed on with for eleven days…

...Except, when he woke up, he had felt awful. Incredibly, horribly, cripplingly awful. That was the best word for the way he felt he could think of. It was as if the effects of not sleeping or eating well for days on end had finally caught up to him. As the class excitedly made their way to the training course, he had to almost drag himself there, exhausted and trembling with soreness. His head felt awfully dizzy, to top it off. Sometimes, he saw black spots nibble at the edges of his vision.

"We'll go in the alphabetical order of your names," Aizawa said as they approached one of the training platforms. "Do your moves swiftly as possible; I still want some time for real training after this. Ashido, you're up first."

"YES, WAHOO!"

Izuku cringed at her loud voice, abnormally sensitive. Would it kill her to be a little quieter…?

Everyone watched in awe as their pink-skinned classmate showed them her new move - the incredible 'Acid Veil'. She got a round of enthusiastic applause, and then another student hurried to take her place.

As the remaining class all waited in line for their turns, a nearby Uraraka turned her head to say something to Izuku, but her brows suddenly lifted in surprise. He was too tired to think of what she could be looking at, and squinted in confusion.

"Wow, Deku… you're sweating a lot!"

Izuku was just as startled as she was to find strings of sweat soaking his face and neck. "O-oh… I guess I am." I'm not even hot, though, I'm pretty cold, actually… He shivered, and involuntarily rubbed his arms. It was then he realized he was already trembling.

"Are you okay? You've been training… a lot this week. You must be pretty tired."

"No, actually, I'm fine." Liar. He'd barely slept twelve hours this week combined. His body was visibly slack with exhaustion. Though his muscles felt stronger, they were also sore from overuse, causing his body to quiver at the strain of having to use them.

Uraraka gave him a suspicious look that soon faded into worry. "Deku… I wasn't going to say anything earlier, but you're looking worse today… I didn't see you at breakfast this morning, though - did you get to eat something in your dorm?"

"Um… probably. I can't really remember." No, he hadn't eaten anything. He'd been exercising in his room hours before the others had woken up, and had forgotten to grab something on the way out. That must've been the cause of his hollow stomach. His head was also pounding at him with a killer headache…

"You haven't made yourself sick, have you?"

"Of - of course not! I'm just a little tired…"

Unamused at his continued claims, Uraraka leaned forward, and before Izuku had time to stop her, she had placed a hand on his forehead as she checked for a fever. He tried to twist away, but she persisted.

"Uraraka…!"

"No! I… Deku…!" She pulled away, speechless and visibly horrified. "You're burning up! Why wouldn't you tell anyone you were sick?! We could've helped you earlier!"

"But, I… I'm not!" However, he felt awful enough right now to believe it. "You're probably just imagining it…"

"Deku, I know you don't believe me, but you feel like you're on fire! Here-" She jerked her head to the side and touched her nearest classmate's shoulder. "Todoroki, feel his forehead; he has a temperature probably as hot as your flames!"

"Wha… no, I don - Todoroki, come on, why can't you be on my side?"

"Uraraka's right," Todoroki said seriously, pulling his hand away from Izuku's feverish brow. "I know heat. You have a bad fever, Midoriya. You should really get some rest or at least take some medicine."

"I'm fine," Izuku said through gritted teeth. He didn't want to snap at them, but he was so tired and their worry made him feel guilty. "I have to do this… I mean… one small fever isn't going to…" He had to stop talking for a second as a wave of dizziness swept over him, causing him to hunch over slightly.

"Deku? Deku, are you alright?!"

"Your turn, Midoriya," Aizawa said dryly before he could answer. Already? I had hoped for a little more time to gather myself… "Show us what you've been working on."

Uraraka shook her head. "Mr. Aizawa, he can't, he's-"

"More than ready." Izuku was able to force his slouched body to stand up straight. He met his friend's eyes, letting her know he wasn't backing down. "I'm fine," he said quietly to her. "I'm going up there."

"Deku, no you're not! Please, just look at yourself… You've got a raging fever probably making it hard to think right now, but you're shaking all over, and you look like you're going to pass out!"

"Do I need to mark you as incomplete, Midoriya?" Aizawa snapped. He couldn't hear their conversation, but clearly saw his students talking together, and that meant wasting time.

Izuku head turned towards his teacher. His pale face seemed even more translucent than earlier. "N-no! I'm ready… hold on…" He approached the rocky platform before his friends could intervene. He was doing this - and no one could stop him.

But I'm shaking, he thought, watching his arm tremor under the strain of overworking his body. And I do feel kind of lightheaded…

The tougher part of him was quick to object. Heroes wouldn't stop because they didn't feel well. When All Might or other heroes are sick, they don't back off.

That was true.

He had to keep going. He'd already gone this far.

He climbed onto the platform, by now, sweating like crazy and head spinning. He ignored it. He couldn't stop now after all he'd done… haven't I thought this five times by now…?

"Midoriya? Are you ready?"

"Yes… I'm… I'm ready, Mr. Aizawa." He was clenching his teeth. He mentally told himself to stop it. "So… I've been working on my k-kick… and it's been going pretty well so far…"

He turned towards the rock pile on his left. The sudden motion left his brain reeling, and he had to pause for a moment as his body tried to function, frozen in place.

"Midoriya, this is getting quite ridiculous. Are you going to show us what you've been doing or not?"

Fueled with panic at his teacher's words, Izuku sparked All For One in preparation for his kick, even though he knew something was wrong with him. He couldn't think about the consequences right now. "Y-yes, I'm ready! I promise!" He composed himself in determination.

You've been working all week for this. Stop getting distracted. You can do this.

Letting All For One pulse throughout his body, he leapt up in the air, sailing towards the rocks. His head pounded in warning, telling him to stop, screaming that he'd done way too much already…

He didn't listen. He felt his heart begin to explode against his chest.

No. I have to be… enough…!

"DETROIT… SMMAAAaaAAaa…aa…"

His vision flickered as a roaring in his ears clouded his head. Distantly, he felt All For One begin to die out, and then finally cease to work, having been strained far too much over the past week - but he was still in the air.

Without support, he felt his suspended body begin to drop.

And Izuku couldn't do a thing. Gosh, he was so tired. He didn't have an ounce of energy left to move a muscle to save himself. He didn't feel like it, either. He'd failed. Why o on?

"...MIDORIYA…!"

"Somebo - atch him, he - go - na fa-...!"

Defeated, his eyes fell closed as he plummeted. He gave up.

I'm sorry. I guess I'm just not enough…

The roaring in his ears overtook him and he slipped into final unconsciousness.

It didn't feel like it lasted for long, however. The silence he'd at last been blessed with was broken as a soft, yet stern voice began to nag at him.

"Midoriya… it's time to wake up."

He groaned. No. I'm so tired… He just wanted to sleep forever.

"You've already slept in long enough. Come on, now, I'd like to speak with you…"

Wait… is that… All Might?

He squinted open his eyes, but winced as the simple action was surprisingly painful. His vision was blurry for a few seconds, but slid into focus as he slowly regained his senses. The first face he was able to see was All Might's, who was sitting in a chair next to his…

...hospital bed?

I'm in the nurse's office.

"You're awake," All Might said roughly, seeing his eyes at last peering around the room.

"I…" It was hard to talk; his mouth felt as dry as cotton. "...wa…'er?"

His mentor seemed to be very troubled about something, but he stood from the visitor's chair and picked up a glass of water from a small table beside the bed. Izuku gulped the drink down upon All Might helping him sit up and bring the cup to his lips. He realized he hadn't drank anything besides this today.

Today.

Wait. Today… today, we were training… showing off our quirks… Uraraka thought I was sick… I had… a fever…? Memories flooded back to him, and he had to take a moment to himself in order to absorb them.

"How are you feeling?" All Might asked. Izuku was lifted from his thoughts. "Do you need Recovery Girl? She wasn't able to do much for you earlier, as your being here was more exhaustion-related, but-"

"No. No… I just…" Confusion lined his brow. "I… I passed out."

"You did."

"But… now I'm here."

"You are."

"And… so are you…?"

"I am."

Izuku chewed on his lip. "Er… it's really good to see you…" He took in a short breath. "...but, um… what are you doing here? And… how'd I get even here?"

"I came to see you, of course. Aizawa told me you collapsed during training, and though a student was able to catch you before you hit the ground, you remained unconscious. You were brought here shortly after." He glanced at the door. "Your friends are all waiting out there, but Aizawa and I both thought you would want some time alone before visitors came inside to see you."

Izuku's head reeled with this new information. Fatigued, he was still processing things slowly. "Oh. Thanks."

There was a long pause in which All Might simply stared at him. His student grew uncomfortable under his gaze, feeling guilty as if he'd done something wrong, but couldn't quite place his finger on exactly what he was in trouble for.

"Do you know what karoshi is?" All Might at last demanded, breaking the silence.

"Um... it sounds kind of familiar." He was so tired, he couldn't remember the exact meaning of it. He recognized the roots of it, though... "work" and "death"...?

"Karoshi was a term created in Japan many years ago. It literally means 'overwork death.' If this happens so much in our country, we have a name for it, then can't you see that this is serious? That you… doing this to yourself… is serious?"

Oh. So, this is where he was going with this. "A-All Might… I've just been working hard… it's not like-"

"You managed to hide it well, but today you showed everyone how poorly you were coping. Midoriya, I don't… By pushing - no, destroying your limits, you could've not only diminished your powers, but you could've also died."

Izuku didn't like the seriousness throbbing in his words. All Might was never this… hard with him.

"Die?"

"You could probably last a little longer on this path; maybe a few months. Maybe even a whole year if you're driven enough. And then, one day, you'd collapse again. Just like this. Except, next time, you wouldn't wake up in the hospital."

Izuku swallowed.

"You wouldn't wake up at all."

"I… I wasn't trying to…"

"Please, young Midoriya… I'm trying to make you understand the significance of the situation. I maxed myself out so much I eventually lost my abilities because of it, and it was all due to the fact I worked too hard. I pushed myself beyond my limits - and though I thought I was doing the right thing, I'm now unable to save another person in my lifetime." He sighed, leaning forward and rubbing his temples. "Your hard work is admirable, Midoriya; but there is a time when going 'plus ultra' and simply overdoing it begin to blur. This has gotten far out of hand."

"...but, it's just, the exams-"

"-will be fine. You were already doing so well before this extra training. This just exhausted yourself. I don't care what Aizawa says. I don't want the new symbol of peace overworking himself like this again, do you understand me?"

Izuku pushed himself up on the bed, but quickly regretted it as his head gave a painful throb. "If I'm going to be the symbol of peace, I have to go beyond! I don't - I can't care about what it does to me. I want to be a hero."

"This… is not the way!" All Might's expression was exasperated. "Do you really believe you can continue like this? Surviving on three, four hours of sleep a night, one meal a day, and a fever blurring your sense of reality?"

Izuku was about to protest, but he stopped short as All Might's words begin to sink in. Can I really do this forever? I collapsed after only a week... how am I supposed to do it for months without break? And did that mean… he didn't have the strength to be a hero?His tensed shoulders slackened. "I just… I-I want to be like you… so bad..."

The familiar Midoriya waterworks were turned on as all the feelings he'd bottled up this week surfaced at last. He had to hide his face from All Might, embarrassed.

Suddenly, he felt a hand rest on his shoulder. He forced himself to stop crying, bracing himself for a typical berating speech from All Might telling him to cease his tears and push through his exhaustion if he wanted to be a hero.

But, it never came.

"Midoriya," All Might said softly, "whether or not you become the symbol of peace is not my greatest concern."

"I… what?"

"I've been hard on you today… but not because I'm angry at you. I was just so worried. I don't want you to end up like me. I want to see you live and be happy and avoid the mistakes I made." He shook his head. "My greatest concern right now is you. Not the successor of One For All. Not an aspiring hero at U.A. High. You. Izuku Midoriya, the boy who would do anything to help people."

A little color returned to Izuku's cheeks.

"Just a little while ago, I promised your mother I'd look after you, and yet I stood by and I let you do this to yourself. But, no more, alright? I can't bear to watch this happen to you. Not only is it unhealthy, it's a horrible thing to watch your protégé killing themself before your very own eyes. When I heard that you had collapsed, I feared…"

Izuku looked up at his teacher. He always looked serious in this form, but now, he just looked sad.

All Might truly cared about him. He was worried about him.

Izuku was exhausted and trembling with dozens of different emotions right then, but he was able to think clear enough to realize that All Might… was right.

All this pushing himself wasn't necessary. He was, more or less… enough. His abilities were enough. He didn't need to kill himself to become a hero; he just had to do his best. Had to know exactly what he was working towards. He wasn't training to become the License Exam champion. He was trying to become a hero.

And heroes didn't destroy themselves. Because people still needed them. And if I keep going like this, I won't be around for the people that need me.

"I'm... I'm so sorry for worrying you, All Might," he sniffed. "You're right. I can't do this forever, and I can't be a hero if I die. I was wrong. I've made a lot of mistakes these past weeks. But…"

His pale lips turned upwards into a small smile.

"I think now… I'm ready for the exams. I've realized what and what not to do. I'm not going to overdue myself in training… or in combat. Even in the exams... I'll be smart. And this time, I'll control myself."

A spark of relief lit in All Might's eyes. "That's the idea, young Midoriya. You're learning from my mistakes. I'm so proud that you've come this far. You're going to ace these exams, I know it. You have the talent in you, and now you've got the drive."

"I guess… I do."

Izuku didn't know if he'd ever believe he was truly enough. But, he just had to accept that and keep going. That's what heroes did, after all. When they couldn't save all the people or defeat all the villains, they didn't sit around cry; because look at what they had accomplished.

Look at what Izuku had done. Even before all his training. He'd saved lives, protected his friends, defended All Might, and so much more. He had done all that. He, Izuku Midoriya, the quirkless, useless, wannabe hero.

All and all, he wasn't perfect. Far from it, to be frank.

But, he was enough for the people he loved. And that, he supposed, was quite enough for him.

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squidkid-s · 7 years

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[80's theme playing] [man] Neo Yokio is the greatest city in the world. It is the most populous urban agglomeration in North America, but its prestige does not merely stem from its size. From Bronx prefecture to the aquatic elegance of Battery Park, Neo Yokio is a diverse labyrinth of cultural and architectural innovation. No wonder we play host to many of the planet's most prestigious events. Of course, whenever a city becomes the envy of the world, problems are bound to arise. In the 18th century, the first wave of demonic attacks wreaked havoc on Neo Yokio. From origins unknown, hateful creatures sought to destroy the city on a mass scale. In a stroke of genius, Neo Yokio's then mayor, Theodore Corelli, invited the exorcists of the old world, peasant practitioners of the dark arts, colloquially known as Rat Catchers to become citizens. [rats squeaking] In exchange for their citizenship, these exorcists used their talents to save the city. Many of the descendants are now part of Neo Yokio high society, adding to our rich cultural tapestry. Although demonic threats have been greatly minimized, you will still be subject to search and questioning at our discretion. Please have your documents ready and welcome to Neo Yokio. [Charles] Sir, I almost forgot. Your watch is fixed. I picked it up this afternoon. [Kaz] It's been three weeks, and I still can't believe she's really gone. My one true love is now living the glamorous life of an investment banker in San Francisco, while I remain in Neo Yokio haunted by her memory. In happier times, I watched her play on this very court. [sighs] No doubt she's found a new tennis club by now. Sir, I understand that matters of the heart are mysterious and profound, but destroying a 1919 Cartier Tank is a bit, well imprudent. Hell, yeah, it is. That's a dope-ass watch. [sighs] Hey, Lexy. Hey, Gottlieb. - You gotta sack up. - Tonight's the big field hockey match against the East Side Gentlemen. You're out here like a pound puppy. Sorry, guys, but I can barely navigate the hellish vortex between breakfast and dinner, let alone the labyrinth of the field hockey field. - What are you saying, dawg? - I'm saying I'm not playing in tonight's field hockey championship. The whole season's been building up to this match! We gotta teach those old money fuckboys a lesson! You can't give Arcangelo the satisfaction, B. Win, lose we'll all be equal in the grave. [woman grunts] Sir, we really should get going. I told you to clear my schedule. I'm grieving the death of a relationship. I understand, but the reservation is in 15 minutes. I'm simply too blue for lunch. I would strongly advise against incurring the wrath of Aunt Agatha, sir. [groans] Fine. Let's go. See you, Lexy. See you, Gottlieb. So, we'll see you at the game? We're counting on you, Kaz! [Kaz sighs] God, I miss Cathy. - She loved ice cream. - [Charles] Come, sir. There's always a silver lining. Now that you're single, your name's officially on the Bachelor Ranking Board in Times Square. It's an honor to top the Bachelor Board, but it's an honor I dream not of. Well, sir, you're not quite at the top. I'm number two? Two is a rather prestigious number. Two is the loneliest number, Charles. Especially when you're second to a jackass. Why are you late? Don't you have a watch? Who cares what time it is when the future's an interminable abyss of wackness? Kaz, you're not a gentleman of leisure like those other uptown buffoons. You can't just drink Americanos and watch tennis all day. - You have work to do. - Aunt Agatha, I'm well aware that I'm We are members of the magistocracy. You are a magistocrat. You have a sacred duty to protect the city as well as our family name. Never forget the tremendous odds your ancestors overcame to establish the family in Neo Yokio. Aunt Agatha, Cathy left me. And I'm sorry if I'm disgracing the family, but I'm depressed. [laughs] Ha. Cathy? [sighs] Did you really think it would work out with an East Side girl? Well, why wouldn't it? Because however many times we save the city, however elegant we become, in their eyes, we will always be neo riche, just a bunch of Rat Catchers. Don't say that, Aunt Agatha. Oh, grow up. You're old enough to see the world as it really is. Now, listen, I've heard some wonderful news from Lady Three Jane this morning. Helena Saint Tesoro is possessed! Helena Saint Tesoro? The fashion blogger? - Perhaps the greatest of the modern era. - Damn, I haven't see her since Freddie Miles threw that crazy party out in the Hamptons. She's possessed? That sucks. Focus, Kaz. Her family's in dire need of our help. I have arranged for you to go exorcise her this afternoon. Aunt Agatha, I don't have the emotional energy to do anything tonight. Even if I did, the guys are expecting me at the field hockey match. [bangs table] Wicked boy, don't you understand? If you refuse to perform your duties, there is no field hockey, no more gentleman's club dues, no more extravagant rent. You need to work to support your wretched lifestyle. Now, eat your tiramisu. I've lost my appetite. You know, Charles, buying a new suit is the only good thing about having to work. You are a true master, sir. Watching you shop purely by touch is inspiring. Welcome back, Mr. Kaan. So good to have you in the store. And congratulations on your recent appearance - on the Bachelor Board. - Oh, thanks. How are the new suits feeling? Anything else I can help you with? New pair of Margiela field hockey trainers for the big match? Actually, I don't think I'll be playing tonight. What? I've been waiting for this game all season. Sorry to disappoint you, salesclerk, but the universe is dictated by forces far greater than field hockey. I'm sorry, I'm I'm just such a sports nut. Well, you're in luck, my friend, because a real sportsman has just entered Bergdorf's. Oh, Arcangelo. I'd recognize your shitty voice anywhere. Oh, look. It's Neo Yokio's second most eligible bachelor. [laughing] Look at you, trying to class yourself up with a new suit? You'll need more than that to take the top spot from me. You can keep the top spot. I honestly couldn't care less about that stupid list. Gentlemen, please don't fight. It is an honor to have the number one and number two bachelors in our store today. You are both elegant gentlemen and excellent field hockey players. Please, allow me to show you to your dressing rooms. So, I hear you're gonna chicken out on the game tonight. Fuck the game. I have a lot more on my mind these days. In fact, I have a very high profile and lucrative job tonight. Job? You mean, like, work? I am a magistocratic exorcist, and it's my sacred duty, you jackass. Sacred duty, what a joke. No wonder Cathy left you. You're just a neo riche loser. [laughing] I am not neo riche! [groans] [crashing] [grunts] You know what, Arcangelo? I will see you at that game tonight. And, salesclerk, I'll take the suit. [Charles] Sir, I don't see how you can make it to the job and the game. A teen exorcism can take all night. [Kaz] Didn't you see me back there? This exorcism will be a walk in the park. The Sea Beneath 14th Street brings back a lot of memories. Some happy but others, quite sad. [butler] Mr. Kaan, we've been expecting you. Right this way. [sobbing] Charles, who are these girls? These are Helena's biggest fans. - We're called Helenists, you herb. - She's our queen. Her blog is our bible. Neo Yokio's second most eligible bachelor in our home. [sighs] Thank you for coming. I'm so sorry to hear about Helena. How is she? Well, it's a tad awkward to talk about it because she seems a bit possessed. It's so out of character for her. She never cavorts with wraiths or demons. When did it start? Two days ago, she took a trip uptown with her friends to get a preview of the fall collections. The prime minister of Chanel presented her with a custom suit. What an honor. I know. But when she got home, she started feeling unwell. And the next day, she had become an entirely different person. We've always kept her so well-guarded. I can't imagine how this could've happened. Rest assured, your family's nightmare will be over in no time. Now, where is she? She's floating up in her bedroom. [Kaz] Hey, Helena, what's up? It's me, Kaz Kaan. So, this is kind of awkward. I haven't seen you since that party in the Hamptons at Freddie Miles' place. You know, when we hooked up. Uh, anyway, that's a dope Chanel suit. What's it made of, tweed? I'm a huge fan of fabrics. You mind if I touch it? Ow! Okay. Enough small talk. Let's do this. What happened? Is she cured? I'm sorry. No. She was totally immune to my charms. Well, get back in there and try again. There's nothing I can do. She's too powerful. This is outrageous. - I'm calling your aunt. - Could we leave Aunt Agatha out of this? Leave this townhouse at once. I don't get it. Why didn't my powers work on Helena? I hate to be the bearer of bad news, sir, but it has taken a toll on your ranking. I'm behind Luke Silver-Greenberg? That's horrendous. It's always darkest before the dawn, sir. Shall we get you a giant Toblerone? Chocolate always cheers you up. No, Charles, I wanna visit the grave. [Charles] You've designed yourself a beautiful grave, sir. I'm gonna rest for a bit. [sniffs] I recognize that scent. Excuse me, old man, but what are you doing over there? Oh. I'm just tending to my wife's grave. Tending it with perfume? How odd. [chuckles] Might seem strange, but Babylon NÂ°5 was her favorite perfume in the universe. Hmm. It's really not a very elegant perfume. It achieved global success, but in a marketplace far less crowded than today's. I believe a classic is a classic when talking about clothes, cars or watches, but scents need to change with the times, don't you agree? I never thought about it like that. Don't get me wrong. I'm very touched by your dedication to your dead wife, but perhaps her spirit would be cheered by a newer, more youthful perfume. Santal 33 perhaps? I could have my mecha whip you up a sample. [Charles] I have full fabrication abilities. [chuckles] Thank you, but she just loves her Babylon. You old folks are funny like that. You don't have the same understanding of style. The girls of my generation would never wear Babylon NÂ°5. They prefer a less mainstream fragrance. Helena Saint Tesoro once wrote an essay about this. [sighs] I'm not familiar with her work. She's the greatest teen fashion blogger of the modern era. With her, everything has to be unique. Even her Chanel suit is a custom job. [man] Mm-hmm. In fact, she only received it a week ago. It wasn't subject to the same security procedures as other luxury items. It was open, it was vulnerable The perfect place for a demon to hide! Could it really be? Yes, Charles. The reason I couldn't exorcise Helena was because it wasn't her, but rather her suit that was possessed. Brilliant, sir. I know what to do now. Let's head downtown. There's still time! Sir, at this hour, the bubble traffic is horrendous. It could take us hours. To hell with it. Let's go express. [jets blasting] [in demonic voice] Look who's back. Very clever, possessing a Chanel suit. You knew a bespoke item was your only shot at getting to Helena. It was too easy. [laughing] You fools will never be safe. Your vanity ensures it. Karl Lagerfeld said vanity is the healthiest thing in life. God, you really are a herb. Behold the pale horse and prepare to meet the dark forces that lie beneath your precious city. [Kaz yells] Demon, be gone from the Chanel suit! Coco Chanel, may her memory be blessed. Helena, are you okay? Wake up! Wake up! [demon] Ha! You may have destroyed the suit, but you haven't destroyed me. Oh, no! [gasps] No! Helena! [panting] [breathes deeply] [grunts] [coughing] - [in normal voice] Kaz Kaan? - Hey, Helena. [chuckling] Oh, my God. I haven't seen you since Freddie Miles' party out in the Hamptons. That was a crazy night. Yeah, we had fun. I know. How come you never called me when we got back to the city? Well, you started dating Cathy. She actually just broke up with me. That's a shame. Yeah, it is. Well, maybe now I'll call you. That would be sick. [grunting] [cheering] [crowd gasps] The West Side Gentlemen are getting killed. If I was you, I'd pack it up and go home, West Side wimps. Time out! [grunts] [whistle blows] This is impossible, man. - Where's Kaz? - He didn't show up. He doesn't even care about field hockey anymore. Wait. [jets blasting] Is that him? I can't believe it! It's Kaz Kaan! Kaz, homey, you made it! Gentlemen, I'm sorry I'm late. As you know, I've been really depressed, and it's affected my attitude toward field hockey, but I'm here now, and I know we can beat these bastards. [all] Yeah! [whistle blows] [crowd cheering] [Arcangelo grunts] [Kaz groans] Yo, flagrant foul, man! Flagrant! It's a penalty shot for Kaz! This is a field for gentlemen. You should be selling popcorn in the stands, you peasant. A true gentleman excels in both work and leisure. [salesclerk] Heavens to Betsy, they're bringing in a ringer. [crowd murmuring] You see how diesel this goalie is? This shit is impossible. - No way the ball's getting past him. - No way. Good luck, Rat Catcher. [crowd cheering] [buzzer buzzes] I love sports! - Charles, play Vivaldi's concerto. - In D minor, sir? No. In E-flat major. Ah! Very good, sir. [Vivaldi's "Concerto in E-Flat Major" playing] [Kaz] I am Neo Yokio's most eligible bachelor. I am the proud scion of a storied and powerful family. This is my city, and I'm sworn to protect it. Yes, my girlfriend broke up with me to take a finance job in San Francisco, but I am still here in the greatest city in the world. Tomorrow, the cherry blossoms will bloom, the sun will shine. It is springtime in Neo Yokio, and life is worth living.

RIIN I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU DID THIS

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