#the impostor syndrome is kicking in very nicely

[math-is-math]

Aleheather Week day 1 — kiss/confessions 🫶

RAHHH IM SO EXCITED ITS FINALLY HERE PEOPLE !!! I’ve been planning this for like 2 weeks but even so I’m still managing to do everything last minute lol

Based on a fic I wrote :)

[the-authoress-writes]

Wherever You Go Chapter One

Tom “Iceman” Kazansky x Aviator!reader (Callsign: Thorn)

Moodboard by @bradshawsbaby

Written for @roosterforme’s Top Gun Rocktober Playlist Fic Challenge

Synopsis: Tom Kazansky made a mistake.

Or rather, a series of mistakes.

He chose to take the assignment as an instructor at TOPGUN.

He fell in love with one of his students.

He broke her heart.

He chose to leave TOPGUN, and redeploy.

Now, he was stuck onboard the USS Nimitz with the woman whose heart he broke, with no way out.

Unbelievably, that’s not the problem.

Problem is, he still loves her.

Series Warnings: Teacher/Student relationship (but you already knew that) with no real age gap, warnings will be updated as the series progresses.

Warnings: Here be cursing, because these are people in the Navy.

I don’t think there’s anything else, though.

Author’s Note: “It’s only going to be a oneshot.”

Yeah, freaking right.

This took forever (become a church musician, they said, it’ll be fun, they said, you’re in charge of the choir for the Advent season and Christmas while the choir director is on medical leave), but I’m fairly happy with how this turned out.

I think.

The impostor syndrome do be impostoring.

Thank you so, so very much to @roosterforme for hosting the Top Gun Rocktober Fic Challenge, and for allowing me to use one of my favorite 80s rock ballads, “The Flame” by Cheap Trick.

Lyrics from the song will be peppered in throughout this series, because it’s too good not to, and the song is the reason this story exists, as it is what birthed the plotline.

A huge thank you and shout out to @thatsrightice, who helped me so much with the hop maneuvers, by researching the F-14 and A-4 high and low for me.

Special thanks also to @valmare, the fact that I am writing Tom Kazansky x reader! fic is all your fault; but thank you so much for dragging me down with you, it’s been an absolute joy!

Previously on “Wherever You Go”…

And as he ate Carole’s heavenly consolation in a cookie, Tom reflected on just how he’d ended up in this position.

Two months ago…

“So, you looking forward to teaching the next generation of stick jocks like us, Ice?” Mav spoke, barely intelligible around the food he had in his mouth.

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak whatever language that was, because it definitely wasn’t English.” Tom deadpanned, looking up from his forkful of the fairly-decent facsimile of scrambled eggs from the famed Officer’s Mess Hall of NAS Miramar.

Mav rolled his eyes and hastily swallowed his own forkful of eggs. “I said, are you looking forward to teaching the next generation of pilots like us, Ice?”

“Like me?

Yes.

Like you?

No.”

With Slider’s approval, he had taken the instructor assignment after it was offered to him shortly after the Layton, he and Slider wanting a little stability for two or three years—maybe even four—the Layton mission having shaved off what felt like a whole decade from their lifespan.

The fact that he was going to be able to fly and show off—sorry—instruct, was a nice bonus.

And the fact that his wingman, the only other pilot who could hold a candle to him, was also an instructor, was another plus.

They’d kick the asses of the hotshots they were going to teach, no problem.

“Oh, come on, you know I’m the best,” Mav grinned, nearly maniacally.

Tom put his scrambled eggs in his mouth, and made a show of chewing and swallowing, before replying, “Second best,” gesturing with his fork.

“I’m the best and you know it,” Mav practically vibrated.

Tom squinted at his wingman. “How much sugar did you put in your coffee?”

The other pilot froze guiltily. “I’m sorry.”

He sighed—hyper Mav was even more of a chaotic gremlin than normal Mav.

The younger man had an incredibly high, almost unnatural, tolerance for sugar, but put enough of it in his system, and you got one Pete Mitchell who could fly without a jet.

Tom had personally seen the other man put what seemed like half a sugar bottle in one cup of coffee. “Why?”

Mav pouted, looking like a child, and not the twenty-four year-old naval aviator he was. “I just wanted to indulge myself a little, Ice, ‘cause, you know, we’re instructors—together—we’re gonna kick ass—it’s gonna be great!”

“I know we’re gonna kick ass, but you’re not going to be able to instruct if you’re vibrating so much they can’t even see you,” Tom chuckled, shaking his head, trying to figure out how he could burn off Mav’s extra energy before they, along with Viper and Jester, had to head to the classroom to greet their new students later that morning.

“I know—but I just wanted something a little sweet as a treat,” Mav murmured, green eyes cast down and glazed with shame, and he got a glimpse of the child his wingman must have been over fifteen years ago.

He softened on the younger pilot, and reached out to ruffle the raven hair with a soft smile. “‘m not mad at you, Mav, it’s okay.”

Mav pulled away with a grimace and a slap at Tom’s hand, before fussing with his dark hair, but the familiar light returned to the other man’s eyes, though with considerably less mania than two minutes ago.

They continued eating, but Tom’s devious side reared its head. “You do know what this means, though, right?”

“Wha’?”

Tom nearly laughed right there.

Mav had half a forkful of eggs balanced on his lower lip.

“You and I are going to go for a little run around the south hangars, to burn off that energy.”

An intense green stare fixed on him, clearly considering. “Okay, fine—I might… might have overdone it a little bit with the sugar packets.”

“A ‘little’, huh?

Good for you, bud, getting more self-aware.”

“Fuck you, Kazansky,” Mav smirked.

“No thanks, not in the mood,” Tom grinned. “Come on, finish up, so we can get a decent shower after our run.”

“You okay there, old man?” came the smug voice not far above his head.

“Two—two years, that’s all you have on me, Mav,” Tom muttered, massaging the ankle and knee of his right leg, stretched out on the bench of the instructor’s locker room, mentally cursing the old injuries he’d sustained there from a bad ejection he and Sli endured during one of their first deployments, on the Constellation, when the arresting gear failed because a new crewman didn’t check the weight on the valve of the wire.

It was why he had to wear a wrap on his knee and ankle whenever he and Slider played volleyball.

Mav continued, “You know I was gonna kick your ass running even if I wasn’t amped up on sugar, right?

Tall people wear out faster—that’s what you get for being freakishly tall.”

Tom frowned. “If I’m freakishly tall, what’s Merlin?”

Long pause.

Smirk.

“No,” Mav accusingly pointed, “I refuse to fall for that—I will not speak ill of my RIO, even though I’m his teacher.”

Tom chuckled.

Merlin had been lucky to be selected for TOPGUN again, though it was with the caveat that he wouldn’t be able to win the trophy in his session, as his pilot was going to be an instructor.

Merls had taken it well in stride, glad to be at TOPGUN, even if it meant he’d only graduate, as a reserve RIO for his session.

“Hey, did you hear?

History’s being made this session—we’re teaching the first female naval aviator selected for TOPGUN,” Tom remarked, once he’d eased the ache in his knee and ankle.

“Yeah, I know—and I know her; hell of a pilot,” Mav nodded. “Hell of a woman too.”

“Oh?” a blond brow rose wryly.

“Yeah, I met her two or so years ago, when the Black Aces chopped in on the Big E.

Callsign’s Thorn.

And don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

Mav’s voice was slightly muffled as he dug through his locker for a stick of deodorant. “Like you think I know her… carnally.

Contrary to popular belief, I don’t flirt with any woman with a pulse.”

“Only most,” Tom nodded sagely, a smirk tugging his lips, even though his wingman couldn’t see it.

A finger was flipped in his direction over a shoulder. “Get in your khakis already, Icy-Hot-Man.”

He rolled his eyes, “Fuck you, Mav.”

“No thanks, not in the mood,” Mav threw back, and the shit-eating grin was audible in his voice, which made Tom secretly smile, to know his wingman and brother was happy.

After the two of them managed to get into their khakis in record time, they came up to the building with their classroom right with Jester and Viper, who spotted them and waved off their salutes. “Kazansky, Mitchell.

It’s good to see you both.

You ready.”

It was more statement than question, but despite the stoicism on the Vietnam veteran’s face, Tom could see the pride in his CO’s eyes, and the added glint of paternal pride, when he looked at Mav.

Though it made him sad to see that, reminding him of what he used to have, Tom was glad that the other aviator had a paternal influence in his adult life.

He’d had one before—Mav, on the other hand, hadn’t.

He really missed his Dedushka.

He pushed the thought away in time to see Viper gesture to follow him and Jester inside.

They all slipped their garrison caps off once they were under the fluorescent lights of the building, and the classroom door was in sight after a short walk.

“Alright,” Viper sighed, gaze running across all of them, a smile reminiscent of his callsign on his face, “time to school another batch of hotshots.

Let’s begin.”

The two wingmen exchanged a little grin, before squaring their shoulders and following Jester inside as Viper trailed behind.

“ATTENTION!!” Jester barked, striding to the front, Tom and Mav moving to the right side of the classroom, opposite the TV, following the order like everyone else in the room.

“At ease.”

At this, they all moved to parade rest, Tom and Mav having the luxury of clasping their hands before them, while Jester picked up a clipboard. “I will be calling out the driver and RIO teams.

After I call both your names, make yourselves known.

Lieutenant Solomon Bates, callsign “Warlock”, and Lieutenant Junior Grade Kenneth Han, callsign “Shogun”.”

“Present, sir!” an Asian man about Tom’s height, and a tall African-American man enthusiastically chorused.

“Lieutenant Stephen Ruth, callsign “Babe”, and Lieutenant Junior Grade Timothy Martin, callsign “Priest”.”

“Here, sir!”

“Lieutenant Edward Arellano, callsign “Belter”, and Lieutenant Junior Grade Gabriel Presleigh, callsign “Elvis”.”

“Yes, sir!”

Lieutenant Henry Baker, callsign “Snackbar”, and Lieutenant Junior Grade Matthias Novak, callsign “Links”.”

“Sir!”

“Lieutenant Julian Howell, callsign “Ash”, and Lieutenant Junior Grade Randall Simmons, callsign “Igor”.”

“Up and ready, sir!”

The pilot, Howell, it was plain to see, had an arrogant, smug look on his face, almost like he felt it was inevitable he’d be at TOPGUN, and Tom sent Mav a sideways glance, which the other man returned.

Any hop with that particular pair was going to be interesting, and it was clear from the look on his wingman’s face, that his immediate dislike of the pilot was shared by Mav.

Tom looked forward to him and Mav educating Howell as to who were the best pilots, in the final hops.

“And finally, Lieutenant __ __, callsign “Thorn”, and Lieutenant Junior Grade Emmett Kinford, callsign “Romeo.””

“Yes, sir!” came a resonant alto and an even, low baritone, the call jarring insofar as it was to hear a woman’s voice mixed with that of a man’s in this room, heretofore the demesne of men.

Both had even expressions on their faces, pilot and RIO gazing straight ahead, while the OCD part of Tom’s mind registered that their khakis were in better form than even his own, ribbons not the slightest bit out of place, with creases you could cut yourself on, and that was saying something.

Her hair was carefully pulled into the regulation tight bun, not a single strand out of place, and her RIO’s dark waves were also the picture of military perfection.

“You may be seated.” Jester said after a beat, casting his gaze shrewdly around the room. “I am Commander Rick Heatherly—callsign Jester.

I am the Executive Officer of Fighter Weapons School, known to all naval aviators as TOPGUN, and your Lead Opposing.

Each one of you have been selected for a very specific reason; to become the best of the best’s best.

Blinds.”

The room went dark as the blinds were shut, and the familiar video began playing, the familiar speech being recited.

Soon, Jester finished his speech, calling for the blinds to be opened.

Light flooded into the room, and Tom fought to look dignified, not squinty, even as the sun assaulted his eyes.

“I’d like to take this opportunity to introduce you to your Junior Instructors, and this school’s Secondary Opposing; Lieutenant Tom Kazansky, callsign “Iceman”, and Lieutenant Pete Mitchell, callsign “Maverick”, last year’s Top Gun, and second place finisher respectively—”

Both he and Mav somehow straightened further, nodding professionally at their class.

“—and finally, our Commanding Officer here at TOPGUN, the very first man to win the Top Gun Trophy; and there is not a finer naval aviator in the world.

Captain Mike Metcalf—callsign “Viper”.”

Viper strode in and told the first class of ‘87 much the same things he did the flyboys of ‘86, and they all turned to get a good look at the Top Gun Trophy, whose newest brass plaque bore the engraving “LT T. Kazansky & LTJG R. Kerner — 1986”.

“You think your names are going to be up there?” Viper gazed speculatively at the class.

However, this time, no one filled the silence with an affirmative response—unlike Mav the year before—though Ash and Igor had hungry and yet self-assured looks in their eyes.

“Well, regardless of whose name ends up in brass at the end of these five weeks, at the end of the day, you—we—are all on the same team.

Gentlemen—and lady,” Viper nodded towards Thorn, “this school is about combat—there are no points for second place.

Dismissed.”

“Report to the quartermaster for your housing assignments, you’ll have today to get settled.” Jester called out to the room at large, “and remember, tomorrow’s first class starts at 0800.”

Most of the class quickly shuffled out of the room, but not before a few of them shot Thorn and Romeo, both of whom were still seated, skeptical—and in Ash and Igor’s case, outright dirty—looks, looks which she ignored, though one would have to be blind not to notice the protective menace emanating from her RIO despite the similar expression of indifference on his features.

But once her classmates had filed out, Thorn looked towards him and Mav, her indifference giving way to a radiant smile.

“Mav,” she exclaimed, striding over.

“Acey!” his wingman laughed, pulling her into a hug, briefly lifting her a slight distance off the floor.

“Fuck, it’s good to see you!”

“You too—it’s been too long.”

“Yeah—” here her expression sobered, “and I’m so sorry—I heard about Nick—Ro and I couldn’t believe it.”

“Nick was a great guy, it was such a shock—damn canopy of all things,” Romeo said, having walked over to give Mav a warm pat on the shoulder.

“Thanks,” Mav breathed evenly, a bit too evenly for Tom’s liking. “Oh, uh, Thorn, Romeo, this is my f-friend and wingman, Tom Kazansky.”

All too glad to take the spotlight to give Mav time to breathe, he stepped forward, extending his hand. “You can call me Ice, it’s good to meet you.

Mav’s told me about you, Thorn.”

“Oh?

Only good things, I hope,” she said, shaking his hand.

Her hand had the same callouses he and most fighter pilots had—which gave him a bit of cognitive dissonance, because he was used to only feeling those callouses on other men—with a strong grip, and a confident posture as she looked up at him.

“Practically praised you to the stars and back,” he smiled, letting go of her hand.

“Hello, I’m chopped liver,” Romeo wryly stated as he shook Tom’s hand. “Call me Ro.”

“You’re hardly chopped liver, Ro, you’re the sixth best RIO I know,” Mav interjected, his voice and breathing seeming more like baseline.

“Thank you, I guess?” Romeo frowned.

Thorn broke in, “I gotta admit, for a second, I was kind of worried that you’d suddenly become too good for the likes of me and Ro, Mr. TOPGUN-Instructor and Three-Confirmed-Kills, I swear, Mav, that was the stillest I’ve ever seen you.”

The aforementioned man shrugged. “That’s Ice’s influence.

Got to stand still so you hotshots have a chance to admire us.”

Thorn huffed a light-hearted laugh, but Mav continued, “And I only got those kills thanks to this guy.

I had to lead some of the MiGs away so that he could have one all to himself,” Mav beamed, waggling his eyebrows.

Thorn blinked, “Oh yeah, you’ve got one too.”

Before he could reply, Mav proudly cut in, “Yes, he does—and this guy held out against five MiGs.”

“Sli and I’d have burned in if you didn’t get there in time, Mav,” Tom said, determined that his wingman would get the praise he deserved.

Said wingman turned, eyes narrowed hopefully. “Is this you admitting I’m the better pilot?”

He scoffed lightly, “Any pilot would have trouble against five adversaries, the best or not.”

“I’ll get you to admit it one day,” the diminutive pilot muttered.

Tom clapped Mav on the shoulder. “Today is not that day, buddy.”

Another huffed laugh had the two wingmen remembering that their students were still in the room.

Romeo was shaking his head in the way of those who have fondly dealt with the inimitable Pete Mitchell, and Thorn had a small smile on her face, but it was no less bright than the one she had when she greeted Mav. “You look good, Mav.”

“Uhh… thanks?

But I always do.”

Thorn scoffed, and Romeo rolled his eyes so hard, Tom was surprised the RIO didn’t pull something.

She turned to him, a look in her eyes that spoke as if he had passed some test he didn’t know about, turning the tables on him, her instructor, and they weren’t even in the air yet. “You keep taking care of this Firebird for me, huh?”

Something about receiving her unsought approval shot a bolt of feeling through him, searing through his being, like standing in the middle of a lightning storm. “Of course.”

“Good,” she breathed, her small smile turning to a grin. “I guess—I guess Ro and I better go, because I’m sure our classmates got the good housing already.”

“We’ll accompany you to your housing, once you get your assignment—the uh—” he cleared his throat and sniffed, “the housing here is laid out pretty weird.”

Tom could feel Mav’s gaze snap to him at a practically supersonic speed, but he ignored it, in favor of shooting Thorn a charming, if not slightly awkward, smile.

Her head tilted at a slight angle, keen gaze analyzing him like he was some sort of problem she couldn’t quite solve. “If that’s what you want to do with your time, sure thing, sir.”

His brain shut down on him for a split second, for some odd reason, but he managed to evenly reply, “We’re the same rank.”

“That shiny Junior Instructor title of yours begs to differ, but whatever you say… sir.”

A nudge at his side snapped him out of whatever strange fugue his brain was trying to drag him into.

He’d have to get more sleep, he figured.

“What’d I tell you, Ice?

Sometimes I wonder if Acey here should have been the Firebird instead of me—because I’m well on my way to becoming an ace, as you all know,” Mav declared.

“Imagine being deployed with this for months,” Thorn sighed, but with a teasing glimmer in her eyes.

“Imagine agreeing to get stationed with him, and being his wingman,” Tom reparteed.

“Oh, I can,” she nodded knowingly. “I have stories, by the way.”

“Oh?

Do tell,” he grinned, playfully ignoring the groan from his wingman.

She blinked, her expression frozen for a split second, before she gestured to the aisle, “Mind if we walk and talk?”

“At your leave, Lieutenant.”

She shook her head slightly, but strode onwards, their strides matching in less than half a beat. “So there was this one incident with some shaving cream…”

When the four of them arrived at the quartermaster, as Thorn predicted, her and Romeo’s classmates were long gone.

“Hello, shitty housing,” she muttered, as she and Romeo approached the quartermaster, while he and Mav stood a ways behind.

“You’re being weird.”

“What?” Tom turned to see Mav staring at him like he was an F-14 requiring diagnostics and a shit-ton of maintenance.

“I said you’re being weird—”

“Yeah,” he slowly began, “I heard you the first time, Mav, what do you mean?”

“You—you’re being… nice,” was the other aviator’s perplexed reply, accompanied by an equally consterned gesture.

It was his turn to stare. “I am nice.”

“Uh-huh, but you’re not usually this—this, to people you don’t know.

Who are you, and what have you done to my wingman?”

If Tom were to be honest, he himself knew that he wasn’t exactly acting in character, but there was just something that tugged him to… be warmer towards Thorn and Romeo.

He put it down to wanting to repay the TOPGUN students for being kind to his brother, when not many others were.

“Any friend of yours is a friend of mine, Mav,” he said, sounding somewhat lame to even his own ears, truthful as it was.

“Okay, sure,” the other man nodded, in an extremely distrustful tone.

“Got it!” Thorn declared, she and Romeo marching up. “Let’s see what Government Issued shanty we’ll be put up in, shall we?

Looks like we’re at… 315 Vraciu.”

Tom spoke up. “That’s not bad, I think; a couple of our classmates last year were put up in that same housing—Charles Piper and Marcus Williams—and I don’t think they had any problems.”

Romeo clicked his tongue, “Well, that’s a first—less-than half-decent housing’s usually par for the course for me and Thorn.

This’ll be a refreshing change.”

Tom would never understand why good pilots were blamed for things they couldn’t change, Mav for his father’s “betrayal” and his own unconventional flying style, and Thorn for her gender, through relentless hazing and/or poor treatment.

If he ever rose high enough to change things, he swore he would.

The housing was a basic, cookie cutter home a little over a five minute drive from the main TOPGUN building, and on the way there, Thorn and Mav were seated in the back of Tom’s truck, catching up, while Romeo sat shotgun.

Glancing in the rearview mirror, Tom saw that both pilots were animatedly discussing things that had happened since the last time they saw each other, including the infamous inverted-over-a-MiG situation.

“Are they always like this?” he said in sotto voce to the RIO beside him.

Romeo flicked his dark gaze to the backseat, a soft smile on his face. “Yeah.

It’s nice to see her happy.

Not a lot of people think much of her, since she’s a woman, you know.

But Mav, he and Goose, they never saw that, they just saw a good pilot, and I’m grateful.

They were the only ones who wanted to fly with us.”

Tom frowned in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

If Mav was singing her praises, she must be a phenomenon in the sky—who wouldn’t want to be part of that?

“Nope.

They were the only ones who volunteered, so they kind of got stuck with us that whole deployment.”

At this point, they arrived at 315 Vraciu, and they all hopped out, the two students carrying their seabags to the door.

Thorn unlocked the door, she and Romeo tossing their bags in the entrance. “Well, thanks for the ride,” she nodded, Romeo doing likewise behind her.

“No problem, my pleasure,” Tom replied, clasping his hands behind his back.

“I’ll see you both around, I guess.”

He imagined that her eyes lingered longer on him than they did on Mav, and… he didn’t exactly know how he felt about that.

Mav threw off a nonchalant salute while he sent a respectful nod, before they moved to go back to his truck.

They were halfway there when they heard, “Hey Mav!”

The two of them halted, turning to see the fire of challenge in Thorn’s brilliant eyes. “You gonna take it easy on me?”

Mav scoffed, “You think I’m an idiot?”

She carefully maintained a blank look, and Mav flipped her off with a grin.

Her expression sharpened, gaze landing on him, callsign all too accurate, as the edge of defiance in her voice rang through the air. “And how about you—are you going to take it easy on me?”

He had to admire her for that already.

“If you’re as good as Mav says, that’d be a damn injustice.”

Her answering smile was dagger-keen. “Looking forward to seeing you up there, then.”

Something in him thrilled to the thought of having another worthy opponent in the sky. “It’ll be a highlight of my day, I’m sure.”

“We’ll see.”

Though not unkindly, the door shut in their faces soon after.

Tom stared at the door a moment longer, before again turning to see Mav frowning.

“You’re really being weird.”

“…Shut up, Mav.”

“Alright boys—just to remind you, we have the classes in the morning, and we’re going up in the afternoon.

For the first hop, it’s going to be Jester against Thorn and Romeo, Mitchell against Warlock and Shogun, then Ash and Igor.”

An unexpected wave of disappointment washed over Tom as he realized Viper’s hop arrangement meant he wouldn’t get to fly against Thorn the first day, but he managed to keep most of the expression off his face, especially with Mav treating him like a problem to solve the whole rest of last night.

Indeed, the shorter man was and had been surreptitiously studying him.

“Which leaves me with Belter and Elvis, and you, Kazansky, with Snackbar and Links, then Babe and Priest, for the second hop.”

Just a banner day for Thomas Kazansky, wasn’t it?

Couldn’t fly against Thorn, and didn’t even get to school Ash and Igor.

“Everyone understand?”

A chorus of “Yes, sir!”s rang through the room, and Viper nodded, pleased.

“Dismissed, then.

To your classes, gentlemen.”

Viper knocked a fist against the table twice before he and Jester departed the briefing room.

Tom gathered his folders and looked at his wingman, who was neatening a very short stack of papers. “I was hoping to have first crack at Ash and Igor,” he muttered.

“I know,” Mav smirked.

Resigned, he sighed, “Well, kick their ass extra hard for me, will ya?”

The smaller man’s smirk took on a devilish quality. “I’ll draw first blood, then you wipe the floor with them, and us together, it’ll be game over,” he stated, as he extended a fist.

“Sounds like a plan,” Tom nodded, sealing the agreement with a fist bump.

As he bent to pick up his attaché case, Tom’s eyes were again drawn to the minuscule stack of papers the other man had. “You got the material for your class today, right?”

“Uhhh, yeah, sort of,” Mav shrugged.

“‘Sort of’.

What exactly do ‘sort of’ class materials look like?”

Mav spread his hands, and he knew. “In all honesty, I was gonna just kind of wing it.”

Tom honestly should have seen it coming—but Maverick mavericking was what made Maverick, Maverick.

“Okay,” he replied, trying to hide his grin. “Sounds good.

Good—good, good.”

He managed to hold his laughter in until he reached the hall, but even then, an “Up yours, Ice!” followed him around the corner.

Tom’s class went smoothly, and after a lunch that he eagerly finished, he eventually found himself in his flight gear, fidgeting in the instructor’s ready room.

Having completed his preflight, he decided to chalk his restlessness down to the novelty of flying an A-4, a single-seater, with no Slider in his ear or backseat, as he listened intently to the comms for the first hop, Viper doing the same across the room.

Mav and Jester engaged Warlock and Shogun, and Thorn and Romeo, respectively, once the Commander called “Fight’s on!”, and Mav made short work of Warlock and Shogun, getting tone on the other pilot and RIO in a little over two minutes.

Commendable, in his opinion, for their students.

Mav called for them to knock it off and return to base, before moving on to Ash and Igor.

It was then that he realized that Jester was still engaged with Thorn and Romeo.

Romeo was evenly calling out altitudes, positions, and break directions, while Thorn composedly called maneuvers out, interrupted only by the sound of the two aviators g-straining, the F-14’s engines in the background.

He briefly turned his attention to Mav, who had engaged Ash and Igor; the two were, as he predicted, scrambling wildly for their “lives” (and based on what he was hearing, would get tone locked in a matter of seconds), in radical contrast to Thorn, who was calmly holding her own.

In his head, he could see a vague picture of what was going on up there with Jester, Thorn, and Romeo, and Tom realized that he wasn’t sure how it was going to end, the sound of Mav getting tone on Ash and Igor fading into the background.

Tom could hear the strain in Thorn and Romeo’s voices as they fought more g-forces while calling movement and other things out—they had to be at or near corner speed to make them sound like that.

Tom could hear the faint, steady beeping which warned of imminent tone lock, and he hoped she would win this, if only to prove his wingman’s faith in her skill correct.

Just as the beeping grew faster, Thorn muttered, “Just a little… come on, come on…”

He leaned forward in his seat, and realized he was holding his breath, but he couldn’t bring himself to inhale.

Then suddenly, the blare of confirmed tone.

Disappointment for her sake sank in his stomach, but only for the briefest moment, because the voice which triumphantly called out “Good lock!” was distinctly female. “That’s a kill, Commander!”

And Tom could breathe again.

Holy shit, Mav was right—she was a hell of a pilot.

Thorn managed to keep too much of the gloating out of her tone, but it was a fairly narrow thing, and in his opinion, it was justified.

A faint sound caught his attention—if he didn’t know any better, Tom could have sworn that that was a… fond chuckle that came from Jester.

“Copy kill.

Well, knock it off, Lieutenant, and RTB.”

“Yes, sir!”

Without really thinking about it, he went to the flight line, in time to see the three F-14s and two A-4s land.

His eyes were drawn to her jet as she pulled in to the flight line, and he was faintly aware of Mav’s A-4 pulling up beside his.

She’d done the impossible; Thorn, a female naval aviator, got chosen for TOPGUN, and got tone on her instructor the first day.

Technically, that wasn’t anything new—Mav had done similar—but in a sense, it was.

Women were just starting to be seen as capable of being in the military, in combat roles, to be exact, and to see a woman do something that had been the domain of men for decades, centuries, and do it just as well as a man—better even; as evidenced by the fact that in her hop, she was the only one to get tone on her instructor…

He really had to admire that—admire her.

“That good enough of an ass kicking for ya, Ice?”

Tom was snapped out of his introspection from the sudden appearance of his wingman at his side, running a hand through his hair, helmet under his arm.

“What?”

Mav grinned, “I got tone on Ash and Igor in roughly a minute or so.

How the fuck those two got picked for TOPGUN eludes me.”

Tom scoffed and shook his head in agreement. “Bet I can get tone on them faster, though.”

Mav slapped him on the shoulder, “We’ll see, Ice.”

A sudden whoop of jubilant laughter drew his gaze, and he could see Thorn about thirty paces away, coming ever closer, and his breath caught in his throat—her mouth was split in a beaming smile, wild and passionate, illuminating her from within with effervescent joy, her shining eyes endlessly reflecting her exhilaration.

Her bun was coming slightly loose, tendrils of hair framing her face and swaying in the breeze, while her flight suit clung to her figure, helmet dangling insouciantly from her fingers; it was decorated with a briar all over, red roses among thorns made of black aces, and it had her callsign across its brow.

Her eyes landed on him, and her smile took on a mischievous quality. “We got Jester, nailed him on the first day.

You gonna be ready for us?” Then, as if she only noticed Mav next to him at that moment, she amended, “Both of you?”

He grinned, just shy of showing too many teeth, nonchalantly stepping closer, shifting his weight to lean towards her, hip slightly cocked to keep his balance, barely paying any mind to the tension in Romeo’s stance behind his pilot. “We’ll see who gets tone on whom first.”

Thorn smirked as she looked him up and down, teeth tugging her bottom lip for the briefest moment before she clicked her tongue, “Good thing I’ve got front row seats for that show, then.” She pivoted on her heel, walking backwards as she sent him a casual salute, before turning to stride back to the locker room, Romeo following her with a minutely narrowed glance over his shoulder at him.

“Huh.”

He turned from watching the pilot and RIO, to see Mav again at his side, glancing back and forth between him and Thorn and Romeo.

Tom frowned, “What ‘huh’?”

“Nothing, nothing,” came the too-quick answer. “Just huh.”

“…Now who’s being weird?”

Tom’s hop with Viper was not quite as interesting as Mav with Jester’s, though he did have to commend all three pilots for holding out for a few minutes, which was more than Ash and Igor could say.

The debrief was a thing of beauty—going in reverse order from lowest to highest hop score, meant that he got to witness Mav positively eviscerate Ash and Igor as the first order of business, and the sheer stupidity that Ash displayed in the air, made Tom wonder what guardian angel or deity sent this idiot to TOPGUN.

He mentally saw a dozen different maneuvers that Ash could have done, that, while they might not have gotten him tone on Mav, they would have helped him last longer against the other pilot.

The debrief drew on, Tom stepping forward when it was his turn, not sparing the other pilots their vivisections, though theirs were not quite as harsh, by sheer dint of them not being as idiotic as Ash and Igor, and finally, it was the debrief he was waiting for; Thorn and Romeo’s.

He had an idea of what happened in the air, but he wanted to know what exactly she had done.

It was textbook and yet genius.

He was right; once they hit the merge, flying at corner speed through a series of turns, Thorn had maneuvered to force Jester to increase his turn rate, bleeding his airspeed, playing the Skyhawk’s weakness against it, before before placing him in her sights.

“…all in all, great work, Lieutenant,” Jester complimented, writing her hop score of 5 on the board, the highest number of all the teams that day, sending her a nod.

Her face was impassive as she replied, “Thank you, sir,” but Tom could see the vindication in her eyes.

“Well, I’m sure you’ve all learned something from your classes and most especially, your hops today,” Viper declared, pacing the front of the classroom. “This is only the first day, and to borrow a saying from our SEAL cousins, ‘The only easy day was yesterday’.”

The Captain stared the students down, pair by pair, searching for something in each of them.

Finally, he stated, “You’re all dismissed.”

After Jester and Viper left, leaving him and Mav, as the junior instructors, to neaten things, Ash and Igor were predictably the first out the door—just shy of storming out, while most of the others looked at Thorn with less suspicion than the day before, a few actually lingering.

While he was fixing the markers, out of the corner of his eye, Tom saw Warlock step forward first, a light smile on his face. “Hey, uh, that was great, what you pulled today—I’m Solomon, but you can call me Sol or Warlock, whichever you prefer.

This is my RIO, Ken, but he prefers Shogun.”

The Asian man genially lifted a hand in greeting, “Really wish I could have seen that.”

Babe chuckled, “Yeah, that was good, wish I’d have thought of what you did, maybe I’d have had a chance against Kazansky—I’m Stephen.”

Priest, his RIO, cooed, “Aw, you embarrassed by your callsign, Babe?”

“Shut up, Tim,” Babe glared.

Priest raised both hands in surrender. “Not my fault your last name’s Ruth—I’m this stick in the mud’s RIO, Tim—call me Priest, that there’s Belter and Elvis.”

Tom almost laughed at the expression Thorn made; the momentary shock on her face was palpable, but it was swiftly concealed—the only reason it registered for him was because he was so used to reading Mav’s microexpressions.

“Thanks—nice to meet you all.

I’m Thorn, this’ Romeo, my RIO.”

Romeo shook hands with them all, a pleasant, but guarded expression on his face.

“You weren’t too bad up there yourselves, from what I heard,” she continued.

“Yeahhh, but who got tone on their instructor first day?

Not this guy,” Priest waggled his eyebrows, jerking both thumbs at his pilot, “and not any of these guys,” making the others groan or laugh.

Tom ducked his head, hiding his smile; he was glad that the others seemed to be warming up to her, he wanted her to have the same experience as he did at TOPGUN—establishing a brotherhood with his classmates.

“—Tom!”

He pivoted to see Mav snapping his fingers close to his face, and he reflexively flinched back from his wingman’s hand in his face. “What?”

He belatedly realized that he’d been saying that a little too much recently.

As if he were speaking to a particularly dull child, Mav spoke slowly. “Do you think I can erase the board now?”

“Yeah, uh, but not the scores.”

“Of course not.

You okay, Ice?”

“Yeah—fine, it’s just a… long day.”

The suspicion in Mav’s eyes didn’t fade as he sighed and nodded. “Feel up to The O Club tonight?

Maybe decompress a bit, have a drink?”

“That sounds great, actually.” Maybe a drink was what he needed, his mind seemed to be all over the place.

“‘Kay—meet you there?”

“Yeah.”

Once he finished with the room, he followed Mav out, sending a look to where Thorn was still talking with her classmates, to see that her gaze was already on him.

Her eyes immediately went back to her classmates, but nevertheless, he felt branded by her stare, like it was a tangible thing, searing through his veins, sending a paradoxical shiver down his spine.

Deep in the recesses of his mind, he could admit it; he didn’t know what it was, but he felt drawn to her.

To what end… he didn’t know.

And that…

That scared him.

Tom eased his precious Chevelle into a parking spot near the door of The O Club; a rarity, but one very welcomed, given how busy the bar seemed.

(The fact that it was within sight of Mav’s highly recognizable Ninja was a perk—he and Slider had stopped one too many parking lot beatdowns.)

He reached for his Shooters, narrowly stopping himself from putting them on (Mav hated it when he did that at night; “It makes you look like a dick”, according to his wingman), instead tucking them into the pocket of his whites, carefully opening the driver’s door, squeezing himself out of the narrow gap he afforded himself.

The black metal flake paint was pristine, and he intended to keep it that way, it didn’t matter how ridiculous he may look.

The O Club was, as the parking lot showed, busy, full of people in service whites, throwing him back to last year, that first night for the flyboys of ‘86.

He cast his gaze around the bar, peering through the haze of cigarette smoke and the people, searching for his wingman’s squirrelly figure, before a call of “Ice; over here!” pierced through the sound of numerous conversations and the jukebox, before a hand flailed wildly, becoming visible over the heads of the crowd.

Mav had claimed seats at the bar; prime real estate with the place this hectic—he didn’t want to know how the other man had kept the seat next to him free when every Tom (hah), Dick, and Harry were clamoring for a seat at the bar.

He made his way through the crowd, gratefully settling onto the barstool next to Mav, also dressed in his service whites. “Hey Mav,” he greeted.

“Hey; I ordered already, I assumed you’d want your usual vodka on the rocks.”

“Thanks; you know me too well.”

“Kind of hard to miss when it’s literally what you order every single time,” Mav smirked.

Tom rolled his eyes—he was a creature of habit, sue him.

(And if vodka on the rocks reminded him of his Dedushka, what was wrong with that?)

“Seems like all of Fightertown is here tonight,” he muttered to Mav.

“You’re not too far off on that, I saw basically all of our students here,” the other man replied, taking a sip of his beer. “Only ones I haven’t seen are Thorn and Romeo, actually,” he finished casually.

Rather against Tom’s will, something in him lurched forward, his thought process halting, making him feel like he’d just snagged the third wire on the carrier deck.

Despite that, he managed a calm—at least in his opinion—“Oh.”

“Mmm.” Another calm sip of beer from his wingman—too calm.

He narrowed his eyes and sighed at Mav. “What the fuck is that ‘Mmm’ for?”

The dark-haired aviator pulled an expression like he just sucked on a lemon. “What, can’t a guy just ‘Mmm’ anymore?”

“Not when you’ve been fucking weird for the past two days,” he replied, sending the harried bartender a grateful nod as they slid his vodka on the rocks over to him.

“I’m not weird, you’re weird,” was Mav’s reply, and he narrowed his eyes at the muted shimmer of something in the other pilot’s eyes.

He was about to retort when his eyes were drawn to the door, and the bulk of Romeo walked in, his head and whites-clad shoulders peeking above quite a few people’s.

It was mere curiosity, he told himself, that led him to lean to see if his pilot was also with him.

It took a beat, but then, several people in the crowd moved, and he saw her—her hair cascaded down her shoulders, as sharp eyes surveyed The O like it was the skies, dressed, unlike everyone else in the Navy who occupied this space, in civvies; a loose, white blouse tucked into jeans, cinched with a thick brown leather belt at her waist.

And everything seemed to fade into the background, the sight of her drowning out the sound of the bar, and Mav’s howling laughter.

To be continued…

Previous Part Next Part

Faceclaims

Russian glossary

Disclaimer: translations are from the interwebs.

Please don’t kill me.

Dedushka: Grandfather

Two years is the real-life age gap between Tom Cruise and Val Kilmer.

The story behind Ice and Slider’s bad ejection actually did happen to a pilot-RIO pair, then-Commander William Switzer and then-Lieutenant (junior grade) David “Bio” Baranek on December 19, 1981, aboard the very same aircraft carrier that I mentioned.

You can read the detailed description of the incident here, retold by Commander Baranek, for the Ejection Tie Club of the Martin-Baker company, who specialize in making ejection seats—including those of the F-14 Tomcat—for pilots and backseaters who have ejected using a Martin-Baker ejection seat.

VFA-41, the “Black Aces”, based out of NAS Lemoore, were featured in Top Gun: Maverick as the squadron of Natasha “Phoenix” Trace, and I thought that would be nice to include that, in this universe at least, Phoenix is a member of the squadron with the first female naval aviator selected for TOPGUN.

Icy-Hot is a liniment that has been on the market since before 1931.

The name of LTJG Kenneth “Shogun” Han is a reference to this scene in the now-ABC hit series, 9-1-1, where paramedic/firefighter Howard “Chimney” Han, played by actor Kenneth Choi, replies that if he weren’t a paramedic/firefigher, he’d have liked to be a Navy TOPGUN graduate, with the callsign “Shogun”.

The names of Henry “Snackbar” Baker, Stephen “Babe” Ruth, and Timothy “Priest” Martin are a reference to both the original name of Leonard “Wolfman” Wolfe—Henry Ruth—and the Martin-Baker company.

The speeches that Jester and Viper give are nearly word for word the same as the speeches that they gave in TG86, with some authorly variation because I didn’t want to rehash the same speeches that we heard in the movie word for word.

Again, VF-1, a now inactive squadron based out of NAS Miramar, is the squadron that Mav and Goose belonged to before they went to TOPGUN, although it must be noted that, like most of the squadron patch designs in Top Gun, the patch design as seen on Mav and Goose’s flight suits, is incorrect and not matching the squadron designation, instead bearing the insignia of VAW-110, the “Firebirds”, who flew the E-2 Hawkeye, which was shown as Comanche in TG:M.

Alexander Vraciu was a WWII Navy ace who downed 12 Japanese aircraft and sank a Japanese merchant ship with a direct hit to her stern.

The merge is a concept used in air combat, where aerial warfighters engage with enemy aircraft by steering their plane toward the adversary—this maneuver is referred to as “going to the merge.”

Corner Speed

Did anyone catch the TG:M line reference?

Special thanks to @valmare for the Ice has a Chevelle headcanon!

Service Whites

Taglist

@valmare

@callsign-skydancer

@permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88

@tadomikiku

@malindacath

@aviatorobsessed

@lynnevanss

@djs8891

If you’d like to join my taglist, just send me an ask!

[danydarkly]

Hi! I just wanted to say, thank you so much for making the Red & Wolf comic. I just found it by accident and read through the whole thing in one night, I am seriously loving it so far. I'm autistic and I've always had a strong interest in wolves, specifically Little Red Riding Hood versions of wolves, and always wanted to read a story about the wolf having a sort of redemption or it being more than just "big bad wolf is evil and wants to eat the girl". There's hardly any content for me to dive into in regards of even just the fairytale itself, most stories are very gruesome, the short films online are incredibly dark and uncomfortable since those are the adaptations of the original grimm telling, or all of the red riding hood movies are horror films instead of fairytale adaptations. Or some sort of like... idk love triangle thing where it's all modernized or something for televesion where Red is wearing jeans and the Wolf isn't even a real wolf? But yours... this is like finding gold. I was hooked immediately and I couldn't stop reading.

Your story of Scarlett and Leikos... it's just so gorgeous, your art work has such clean lines and the way you draw eyes and hands especially is so beautiful. The design for Leikos' hair is my favorite!! And the panel you made where Scarlett is lying down on the grass/tree stump and she's blushing while Leikos is talking with her, oh my gosh, that's my favorite panel out of every chapter so far. Just... the vulnerability of these two growing closer, like... augh clutching my heart when Leikos is like "no don't cross the path you're gonna get hurt :(" and she's like "but I want to dance with you :)" like!!! she trusts him and he refuses to hurt her even when instincts kick in!! HIS BACKSTORY? BRO? I'M IN SHAMBLES?? Ugh your art is so GOOD and this STORY is so GOOD and I am just so thankful to be able to dive into a Wolf/Red story that has action, romance, suspense, all the good stuff. It's so perfect.

Thank you for working so so hard to make this comic. I'm an artist as well and I could never have the patience to upload one comic page, let alone several. Laying out panels is difficult and time consuming and not to mention you're shading and coloring the entire thing. Your poses are always fluid, never stiff, you have good perspective and composition, most ppl who make comics can easily just draw one single pose and one facial expression for 20 panels, but you've always had the expressions and body language shift and change and the camera view as well... and you gotta draw all those damn trees omfg. The flower meadow in the first chapter must have taken forever to draw too! Your hard work really shows in your art and I am so happy to have stumbled upon your comic. If you make any more merch for Red & Wolf on your Etsy, whether it's prints or charms or stickers or really anything, I would be more than willing to throw some money your way. Or if you open commissions as well someday, ahh, I love your stuff so much I would totally pay you to doodle Leikos hehe. Please have a wonderful day and take care! <3

AAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaa

What a lovely message! Thank you so much, Anon! I really needed to read this today <3 I'm truly at a loss for words, like you basically complimented me on everything I'm mad-insecure about?? It's really nice, like maybe I really am too hard on myself?? Whenever I look back on my old panels (which I've been doing a lot lately since reformatting Red & Wolf for print), I always feel like I put way too much effort and kind of only see what I did wrong, but if you and others recognize the effort and like what I did - then maybe it wasn't a waste of time after all. That makes me feel way better about it, thank you :' ) Also, your favorite panel is one of my favorite panels too, where I felt "dang, I kind of nailed it here" - which is SUPER rare for me, haha. I should read this lovely message whenever the impostor syndrome kicks in, it really lifted my spirits <3

[delicrieux]

corpse husband... 👀 could I get a soft pastel aesthetic reader playing among us with the group and being absolutely terrible at it. maybe like she sees him kill someone and doesn’t say anything or report it and he follows her around to sorta protect her from the other imposter? at the end she asks why he didn’t kill her and he says it’d be too easy but ofc someone’s gonna make jokes and be like “no you’re just a simp” idk i think that’d be funny? you dont have to tho- no worries

⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡author’s note: we love pastels and corpse in this house. we love the “i’m helping cuz u cute” trope. we love the public simping. gotta stan this request

masterlist.⁀➷｡˚⸙͎۪۫⋆ ༄

There is a long list of things you’re terrible at, and Among Us is at the very top. But besides your lack of prowess at the game, it is perhaps luck you should curse, for what you have just witnessed will send you into the afterlife: Corpse’s little black astronaut murdering Rae in cold blood. You still by your keyboard; out of the corner of your eye, you see he chat going nuts. The stream just got ten times more interesting.

For a long few seconds neither of you move. You’re not exactly surprised Corpse is the Impostor, it’s just that you desperately did not want to get in his way - you’re bad enough at this game as it is, and trying outmaneuver the master at this game of chess? Impossible. 

Shrugging, you glance at your camera, “I ain’t see nothing.” Before, in-game, you promptly turn on your heel and glide to the other side of the map. Corpse follows. You start sweating, “Noooo, I swear I’m not gonna snitch, please spare me, sir. I swear on my” You idly tap your cat headphones with your hand, “-only prized possession. And my plushie collection.” He’s still trailing after you, even when you hop into Navigation. Turning to the chat, you ask, “Guys, how do I telepathically convey to Corpse that I’m not going turn him in? No one tell him, though, that’s cheating.”

“girl, start manifesting” one comment reads.

“Oh, manifesting, okay. Saw that on TikTok. I also heard it’s like a big thing in LA.” 

You’d imagine that if somehow you were actually transported to the cool chamber of a dying spaceship, cornered by a black figure with devil horns blocking your exit, you would probably start crying. But you’re safe in your little stream room, decorated in fairy-lights and soft colours and even softer blankets. That initial primal fear of having nowhere left to run lingers, though, and you gulp.

A meeting is called and you breathe out a heavy sigh of relief before unmuting your mic, the first to chime, “What happen--No! Rae! Who killed Rae, fess up now!”

“Well, maybe you killed Rae!” Sean exclaims, and even if you can’t see him, you instinctively know he’s pointing a finger at you. 

“It wasn’t (Name).” Corpse says smoothly, “We’re together.” He backtracks quickly, laughing anxiously, “Uh--In game, I mean.”

The conversation rages on, though you’re forgotten, which is a small reprieve. Corpse is quick to frame someone else and everyone agrees to vote. Momentarily you can’t believe you’re betraying your fellow crewmates and wonder why you’re doing it exactly. To make an entertaining stream? That’s definitely part of it. Charlie is flung into lava and you know it should’ve been Corpse but you’re having a bit too much fun to care.

“nooooo!!!! they corrupted her!!!! our sweet baby is on the villain arc!!! RIP”

You hope not mentioning what you had seen transpire minutes prior will dissuade him from killing you - he still could, but he’s just standing by the door, watching your movements. You decide you will only figure it out once your back is turned to him, whilst doing your tasks. Apprehensively, you get to it and--

Nothing happens.

Once you’re finished, you run circles around him. He joins in soon. The olive branch had been accepted. You grin. Rush out of Nav and he, once again, follows after you. 

The game continues like this, you doing tasks and he hoovering by your side like some little guardian devil. You almost forget that he’s the Impostor until he murders Sean right in front of you. You slap your hand over your mouth. Did Stockholm Syndrome kick in already? He self reports and his first words are, “(Name) and I found a body in Weapons.”

You aren’t sure how much your betrayal aided the Impostor victory, but you were the only survivor left between two serial-killers. Your chat spams celebration emoticons and fake-deep monologues about living in a society. While you were an unofficial Impostor, your audience single-handedly decides you were the best one.

It’s all laughter and apologies from your part to your slighted teammates, though even they have to admit it was a good game. Everyone agrees to play another round, but before it can start, you just have to know, “Hey, Corpse?”

“Yes, (Name)?”

“Why didn���t you kill me?”

“Oh,” He mutters, a small chuckle following after his words, “it would’ve been, uhh, too easy, I guess?”

“Lies.” Sean interrupts, “It’s because you’re a fucking SIMP!”

The discord call choruses “SIMP SIMP SIMP” in surprising harmony. You sit in your chair, giggling, smiling so brightly your cheeks start hurting.

“Guys, come on--” Corpse says, sounding like he’s smiling, like he’s got his face covered with his hands, like he’s embarrassed; he laughs - it’s a light, pretty sound, “I just wanted (Name) to have fun. And not be killed by Sykkuno.”

“Wait--” Sykkuno pipes up, “So you just...followed her around the map?”

“...Yeah.”

“Oh my God, you stupid simp!” Sean laughs, “(Name) was there when he killed me, I was so confused why she didn’t say anything because I figured she was the other Impostor, but turns out he just kidnapped her. Don’t worry, (Name), we don’t blame you for betraying the crew. You did what you had to do to survive.”

“It’s the her seeing Corpse kill me and pretending she’s blind for me.” Rae snickers.

“Wait a fucking minute,” Charlie says, “you mean to tell me, (Name), our little pastel princess fucking peach over there, saw Corpse slitting your throat and fucked right off, and then lied like a grade-a-politician during the meeting? Who killed Rae fess up my ass, you all are saying Corpse played us like a fucking fiddle but it was actually (Name) the whole time.” You hear a smile in his voice, and somehow feel a surge of pride, “(Name)--” He’s cut off by Sean trying to interject but quickly shushes him with a few choice words “Jesus fucking Christ, shut up, I’m trying to figure something out. (Name), did you or did you not use Corpse for protection?”

You’re giggling; you can’t control the sporadic giddiness mixed with light anxiousness, “I just...I just didn’t want to die!” You exclaim. More laughter.

“I rest my case, she’s a fucking wolf in sheep’s clothing, it’s always the nice one’s that stab you in the back for the fuck of it.”

“Guys,” Corpse says, “guys, guys, guys...Let’s play another round?”

“Yes”es are exchanged like trading cards. Before long, your screen lights up and you gape at the word IMPOSTOR written over you little astronaut standing right next to...Corpse.

You grin: if the last game was crazy, this one will be straight up insane.

.

hope you liked it! xx

.

[genshin-impact-writings]

Hello! Could I get a platonic, gender neutral drabble for Zhongli and reader who has impostor syndrome and it kicks in especially hard when it comes to his opinion on them? Thank you v much if you'll accept this 🌷

Hello dear! I'm so sorry that it took me so long to finish this one and I really hope you're still interested in this. I don't know much about imposter syndrome (I read a few things about it while I was working on this request), so I apologize if I depicted anything wrong. Have a nice day/night and take care! <3

(Not) Good enough – Zhongli x gn!reader (platonic)

“Well done, (Y/N).”

Whenever Zhongli said these words to you, you couldn’t help but feel like he was lying to you. To you, it seemed nearly impossible that someone like him would say that to someone like you and actually mean it. Surely, he knew that the credits for all the things you had achieved so far didn’t belong to you but to everyone else around you. Without their support, you would’ve never mastered the control of your vision, and most of it had been exclusively good luck anyway.

You looked at him, noticing the soft smile and the proud expression in his eyes as he watched you train your elemental skills. “You’re getting better every day,” he said, unknowing that his words engulfed you in another crisis. Hopefully, he wouldn’t notice that you had just been lucky when you had channeled the energy from your vision to destroy the training dummies in front of you.

Being able to train with Zhongli was a great honor, an awesome opportunity that not many people got, and you really didn’t want to put this experience at risk but a part of you always feared that he would discover that you had only cheated your way through all the time. His compliments always made you anxious, knowing very well that you didn’t deserve them. It was exhausting and grueling to pretend to be someone you weren’t, and yet, you kept going, simply because you didn’t want to disappoint your closest friend.

“If you ask me you’re ready for a real battle, (Y/N),” Zhongli added. “Perhaps we could go to Guili Plains together. There have been increased sightings of Abyss mages recently and someone should head out to stop them. It’ll be a good training for you.”

Oh no.

Your heart sank. There was no way you could fool him in a real battle, especially not against Abyss mages who could make the strongest warrior look weak if they didn’t use a good strategy. So, no matter how you looked at it, as soon as you had to prove your skills in a battle like that, Zhongli would realize how weak and useless you were. He had put his heart and soul into your training, constantly trying help you getting stronger, and it definitely would break his heart to know that everything was in vain.

“I – I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you stammered. “I mean, um, I don’t think I’m ready for something like that. Maybe – maybe we should continue with the dummies for a little longer.”

Zhongli cocked his head. The pride in his eyes slowly faded into something else that you quickly identified as astonishment. “I think you are underestimating yourself quite a bit. From what I have seen here in training, you are more than ready.”

You bit your bottom lip. How could you tell him that all of this had been purely coincidental and that it had nothing to do with your actual skills? How could you explain the gnawing fear of not being good enough in everything you did?

“Zhongli, I-“

He stopped you with a wave of his hand. “(Y/N), listen. We have been training for months now and you make progress every day. If I didn’t believe that you’re ready for a real battle, I would have never suggested it. So, trust me when I say that you are ready.”

“No, I’m not,” you insisted. “The training results – it’s coincidental that I’m so successful. Half of the time, I don’t even know what I’m doing and-“ You stopped mid-sentence and shook your head. “I’m sorry. But I really think you’re overestimating me.”

“Do you want to know what I think?” Zhongli asked and before you could reply anything (for example, that you really didn’t want to have that conversation now), he already continued, “I think you are selling yourself short. You are far more talented than you want to believe, and you continue to belittle yourself for reasons I don’t really understand. I realize that the thought of going out there to fight against Abyss mages can be scary but that is not the only problem here, am I right?”

When you didn’t reply, he gently squeezed your shoulder. “Talk to me, (Y/N). What can I do to help?”

You couldn’t look at him. You had tried so hard to hide your self-doubts and that he was able to see through you so quickly was just another proof for your inadequacy. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled. “I’m sorry for disappointing you.”

For a brief moment, Zhongli seemed to be at loss for words. He who always found the right words to say, who never hesitated to speak his mind, was actually speechless.

“You’re not disappointing me,” he finally said, shaking his head in disbelief. “What makes you think that? Your success in training is above average, you’re brave, smart and loyal. You see, I’m not disappointed at all. I’m actually quite proud of you, my dear friend.”

“But I’m not good at anything I do,” you whispered. “What you call success… that’s nothing more than being incredibly lucky most of the time. I don’t get why people never notice that.”

Zhongli chuckled. “Because it is not true. What you have achieved so far has nothing do to with being lucky. You work hard every day, (Y/N), and you are capable of much more than you think. There’s really no need to belittle yourself.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words, his voice so earnest that you didn’t want to contradict him again. And maybe, just maybe, you would be able to believe him someday.

[a-model-of-propriety]

20, 23, 38, 39, 46, 49 for Nikolai and Enok, answer for both or whichever one fits a question more :3

sorry this took me forever to answer!

20. Does your character have a comfort item?

The only thing Nikolai took with him when he ran away was his mother’s locket. Inside it is a family portrait, taken when Nik was about five. They wear it around their neck every day, hidden under his clothes.

As for Enok, he still has an old pair of mittens, mangled beyond recognition. They were knitted by his youngest sister as a going-away present just before he left for Bergen. Said mittens are clearly the first time she made anything besides a scarf (frankly, he wouldn’t even know they were mittens if she hadn’t told him so). Nonetheless, Enok uses them religiously and refuses to get a different pair.

23. What is your character's favourite food and who cooks it best?

Nikolai has a soft spot for Blini (griddle cakes, kinda like crepes from what I’ve seen). It was (and still is) their favorite breakfast dish, and he’d always beg his mom to make them. He still is adamant that his mother makes it better than anyone else, ever. (Honestly, the most surefire way to get Nik to talk about his past is challenging their claim here.)

Enok’s family had a lot of goats (apparently Undredal is known for having 5x more goats than people), and his job was usually milking them. His answer may have been different when he was younger, but the thing he misses most about home is fresh cheese from his family’s goats.

38. How does your character unwind after a long day?

Nikolai likes to curl up in all the blankets and just relax every muscle in his body. If anyone stumbles across him, they probably wouldn’t even know there was a body buried beneath all those blankets. As a result, Nik has been stepped on (or jumped on top of, depending on if said person is one of the mischief children) multiple times during his burrito-time.

Enok likes to relax with a nice warm drink. He found in his time in London that he really enjoys a simple cup of tea (usually green tea). However, on occasion (especially near holidays) he decides to splurge and make himself gløgg (which is a lot like mulled wine, if anyone’s curious) to remind him of home.

39. What's your character's guilty pleasure?

For Nik? Starting arguments! You know the people who drop into Discord, drop a controversial statement, and sit back to watch the chaos unfold? That’s Nik. They’ll spout off the weirdest thing they can think of and watch the inevitable argument with the biggest grin on his face.

Enok’s is hiding that he knows English. Most of his superiors know that Enok speaks passable English, but he did not deign to share that information with most of the crew. He especially likes to hang out in the shadows, listening to the English-speakers gossip. What they don’t know can’t hurt them, and Enok’s not going to recount any private conversations. He’s no snitch!

46. Does your character believe in anything? Religion? Superstition?

Nikolai doesn’t really care about religion. He took care of himself all those years without anyone else’s help, thank you very much. Besides, what kind of God would let those innocent kids in the orphanage suffer that much? That being said, he is a little superstitious. (One that he believes in that I think would make for some *interesting* interactions: “If one person accidentally steps on another person's foot, it is common for the person who was stepped on to lightly step on the foot of the person who stepped first. It is said that they thus avoid a future conflict.”)

Enok is Lutheran. As a child he didn’t really think much about it, but his father was very devout. When his father died, Enok became more dedicated to religion because it was the only thing that gave him a chance to see his father again. He’s still not anywhere as devout as his father was, but he’s probably more religious than most others on board. Still, his desire to stay under the radar outweighs any “preachy” desires, so he doesn’t really talk about religion with any of the crew.

49. What is your character's biggest fear? Most irrational?

Nikolai talks big game. He claims he isn’t scared of anything, that their years on the run made them “immune to fear.” But, put him in front of de Lesseps and he’s not so brave anymore. Nik hates going to doctors, and they’ll do anything necessary to avoid a visit. (he even re-set a bone once because he really didn’t want to go to the doctor. Their parents found out not too long after and took him in anyway, so all his hard work was for nothing :/) The worst part is all the poking and prodding, and the needles! *shudder* So yeah, Nik tends to steer clear of de Lesseps.

I touched on Enok’s a bit in his backstory, but his biggest fear is someone thinking he doesn’t belong. As such, he keeps himself at a distance (somewhat sabotaging his attempts of belonging, but hey, what can you do). He’s scared that, if someone finds out he’s trans, they’ll freak out and kick him out. He also just has general Impostor Syndrome. Any time anyone compliments him on anything, he’ll immediately freak out internally with the “I don’t deserve it I’m a huge fake and as soon as you see that you won’t want me around anymore.”

thank you for the ask!

[super-unpredictable98]

OC INTERVIEW

name ➔ "Victoria Maria Hargreeves, but everyone calls me Vicky”

are you single ➔ “No *smiles timidly waving her right hand* I’m engaged, his name is Klaus”

are you happy ➔ “Yeah, I guess so... I think if we really look for it, we’ll always find a reason not to be, so I just don’t look for it.”

are you angry ➔ “Right now? No...”

are your parents still married ➔ “No, I... *sighs* It’s complicated, my father was dead, but now he’s not, and my mom is a robot”

NINE FACTS

birthplace ➔ “Brazil, Rio de Janeiro, but I was there for less than 24 hours.”

hair color ➔ “Brown, it’s kinda boring, but I don’t have the guts to change it.”

eye color ➔ “Green.”

mood ➔ “Very unstable after two apocalypses, but right now I’m good.”

gender ➔ “Female, Klaus said I’m... AFAB, I think. Is that right?”

summer or winter ➔ “Summer, 100%, I love to swim, I love the sun...”

morning or afternoon ➔ “Is night an option?”  

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

are you in love ➔ “Oh, yeah... Very much so.” *giggles*

do you believe in love at first sight ➔ "No, not really... I think love is something you build like a brick wall, it takes time.”

who ended your last relationship ➔ “I don’t even remember, it’s been so long... I think it was me.”

have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ “I don’t think so, I’ve never been with someone long enough to break their heart”

are you afraid of commitments ➔ “No, I love commitment, it keeps me on track.”

have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ “Yeah... My siblings and my fiancé.”

have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ “I don’t think so? I’ve never really been the type of girl who gets notes and flowers...”

have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ “Well... I-once... I’ve made some really bad choices in life, I used to put my career above all else, so yeah.”

SIX CHOICES

love or lust ➔ *blushes* “I think love is more important... You can’t have lust without love.”

lemonade or iced tea ➔ “Lemonade, but only if it’s my mom’s.”

cats or dogs ➔ “Both, they are equally cute.” 

a few best friends or many regular friends ➔ “A few best friends, quality over quantity.”

wild night out or romantic night in ➔ “I know Klaus’ answer will be the opposite, but I like a good romantic night in.”

day or night ➔ “Night, I like the silence, the peace, no voices in my head...”

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

been caught sneaking out ➔ “No, thank God! Cause I did it at least once a week.” *laughs, shaking her head*

fallen down/up the stairs ➔ “A few times, but I’m indestructible, nothing happens here.”

wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ “Yes... *shuts her eyes with a heavy sigh* And seeing them with other people was the worst part.”

wanted to disappear ➔ “Sometimes, I guess we all do.”

FOUR PREFERENCES

smile or eyes ➔ “How can I choose? I think eyes are the windows of the soul, but the smile... It’s so beautiful to see someone smiling.”

shorter or taller ➔ “I don’t really have a preferece, as long as he’s nice.”

intelligence or attraction ➔ “I think it’s a mix, I value intelligence a lot, but attraction is... *Shivers* It’s great.”

hook-up or relationship ➔ “Relationship, I can’t just hook up with someone I don’t love, it doesn’t feel right.”

FAMILY

do you and your family get along ➔ "Most of the time, you know... In a family of eight, you’re bound to have some bickering and fighting, but I love them and I hope they love me just as much.”

would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ “Yep, messed up might be an understatement. Dear father made sure that I ended up with a fair amount of trauma and mental illness... Depression, anxiety, trust issues, impostor syndrome, anger issues, you name it.”

Klaus: Don’t forget daddy issues, Schnucki! But I kinda like that one...

have you ever ran away from home ➔ “I wouldn’t say ran away... I just left, against my dad’s will, but it wasn’t running away.”

have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ “No, looking back now, I kinda wish I did, but I didn’t.”

FRIENDS

do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ “No, I’m closer to some of them, but I don’t hate any of my friends. And by friends, I mean my siblings...”

who is your best friend ➔ “Klausie *childish grin* he’s always been my best friend.”

who knows everything about you ➔ “Klaus again, we know every single detail about each other, but it would be hard not to after what? Almost 25 years living together.”

This format was stolen (with permission) from @sean-falco​

[legobiwan]

9,11,12,13 for obi wan, if you may?

9) Humiliating memories

So again, I am going to ignore Legends material because it gets too complicated with the whole “how did Obi-wan end up apprenticed to Qui-gon” question. 

I’m sure Obi-wan has a host of humiliating memories as it pertains to one Satine Kryze, because let’s face it, at that age everyone is cringe-central when interacting with their romantic interest. I’m certain Qui-gon (being the shit that he is), happily reminded Obi-wan of some of the better moments, such as the time Obi-wan spilled golem-berry juice all over Satine’s shirt (it’s a very fermented drink, not a tidbit she would every forget having to breathe in the very particular stench for half a day). Or perhaps a more private time when Obi-wan attempted to express his feelings (perhaps she was helping him become a better shot with a blaster, and it was one of those situations where she’s behind him and bodily closeness and whatever as she helps aim his shot and it hits the mark, to which she says, “You have nice instincts with a blaster” and Obi-wan, panicked, looks at Satine’s bare arms (she’s in a short-sleeved shirt) and, of course, blurts out, “You have nice elbows.”

The Negotiator, indeed.

On a less humorous note, there were probably a bunch of times early in Anakin’s apprenticeship when Anakin went off and did something wild (and who can blame him? He didn’t know life in the Temple from the circus, and Force knows he was a rambunctious kid) and Obi-wan, more than once, is called on the carpet by the Council and it is intimated by more than one Jedi Master in passing that perhaps Knight Kenobi is not quite ready, not quite capable of handling a Padawan of his own, forget the supposed Chosen One, which of course, just fuels both Obi-wan’s perfectionism in himself and his tendency to be strict with Anakin early on.

11) Bad or petty habits

So I have an ongoing headcanon that Obi-wan is a functional alcoholic and I am willing to die on that hill (mound, really). In terms of petty habits, if he’s really upset with some kind of bureaucracy with the Jedi or the Senate, he will go in with an armful of archaic holobooks outlining laws and legislation that haven’t been used in thousands of years but were never technically taken off the books and Obi-wan will nail asses to the wall using this information in order to get his way. 

The Senate aides are terrified of him.

12) Grudges and vendettas

I mean, there are the obvious ones like Maul and Cad Bane. I also think Obi-wan holds a secret grudge against Qui-gon that he feels awfully guilty for harboring, as he loved his Master but was also saddled by Qui-gon’s ridiculous bullheadedness about Anakin and prophecy and Obi-wan never quite felt like he totally measured up to what Qui-gon wanted or expected, which was partially why he was so eager to throw Obi-wan to the side once Anakin came on the scene. 

Obi-wan also holds a grudge against whoever popularized pod racing holo documentaries, as he can quote them nearly in their entirety, as it was all Anakin would watch as a youngling (and some days, it was the only way to calm him down). 

He also holds great displeasure against a certain bar on the 30th level which had the audacity to kick him out after he so helpfully pointed out the errors in their drink mixing. (He knows how a classic Coruscant Twist should be made, and his observations were obviously for the greater good of the establishment’s clientele.)

13) What gets them flustered

Uncomplicated expressions of love or praise. Obi-wan has a bit of impostor syndrome and has a tendency to brush off compliments as he feels he is undeserving of them and the few times Yoda or Mace sat down with him to tell him what a good job he was doing might have been the most painful twenty minutes of his life, pre-Clone Wars. Obi-wan is a master at deflection, at least when it comes to himself. 

[paperclipninja]

Younger post-ep ramble 6x02

You know how sometimes an episode of television feels like really good value? This week’s Younger episode, “Flushed with Love” felt like that to me. There was a LOT going on but it felt like it flowed really well, there was clear set up for the season and I gotta say, the first 7 mins of this ep gave me so many laughs, the writing was on point from the get go. The 23 min (though hello extra 2 mins, I see you) format is tricky at this stage of a series, especially one that has developed characters and relationships the way Younger has, because in order to keep the story moving forward attention needs to be paid to all those elements that have been established. So it will be interesting to see the pacing for the rest of the season, this ep was fast paced but didn’t feel too rushed, though I do hope that every now and then we get to sit in scenes of the upcoming episodes a little longer.

I love a morning in the loft with Liza and Maggie opening scene, there’s something so comforting about it and this ep served us up a good ‘un. Maggie paying out Liza’s outfit (she’s not wrong though), talking about her hook up with Clare’s mum as missionary work (first actual lol) and Maggie’s spidey senses tingling about Clare and her trustworthiness (though Liza is back in the Clare camp for now). It was brief, yet a nice reminder that these two roomies really have a relationship unlike any other on this show (I heart it very hard).

We waste no time getting to Aunt Liza’s first call of duty and that is, of course, baby goods shopping with Josh. This scene was utterly delightful and again, actual lols to be had. One of the many things I love about Younger is that it can venture into the silly or absurd to suit any given situation or character and even when it’s wrapped around something realistic and serious, it just works. This is one of my favourite scenes between Josh and Liza in recent memory, I felt like I saw what their friendship could/would look like (when someone finally puts this limping triangle out of its misery). I cackled at Josh’s, ‘I don’t understand why it comes out before it’s completely assembled’ and seeing him chug that gripe water after dry retching about the umbilical cord stump was pure slapsticky goodness. Of course it would not be a Liza/Josh scene without the reminder of Josh’s heart eyes for Liza, which featured in his lingering gaze as Liza advised against getting mobile as it gets in the way when you lean in for a kiss.  

You know what I have heart eyes for? The 4 mins of this episode that starts at Lexington research centre and ends with Quinn asking Kelsey, ‘ARE YOU CRYING?’. The whole sequence is comedic gold. Seeing Diana, Kelsey and Liza sitting at the table together made my heart so happy, but not as happy as Diana taking Kelsey’s ‘since I’m the publisher’ from the start of the scene and using it to wish her luck telling Quinn her book sucks at the end. D. Trout is here to support you Big K but not put up with your ‘tude. This is also the first scene where we begin to see the experience vs. youth idea surface, as Diana tells Kelsey and Liza that it’s nice they think they have a choice about debuting with Quinn’s book. While Kelsey’s inexperience is easy enough to spot, Liza’s ‘I think this is so smart’ comment, just as the focus group feedback starts to roll, is the first reminder that Liza may be a fine editor with great ideas and her life experience sets her in good stead a lot of the time, but she is pretty much as green as they come in the business world. The Claw reader response reel, sweet lawd, I have watched this so many times and LAUGHED (yes, capital letters laughed) because the selection of responses, working their way to Suzzane’s shingles flaring up and Vicky begging to unread the book, are just too funny for words (”strong reactions”).

Thankfully we don’t have to wait long for Kelsey to deliver the news to Quinn because the nightmare continues over lunch aka. hilarity ensues. In case we needed some more convincing that Quinn does what Quinn wants, she immediately railroads the conversation by giving Kelsey and Liza gold business cards holders (that ‘poor Charles’ comment re: a quick exit, this woman just cannot help herself, Claw could not be a more apropos book title *meow*). Seeing Kelsey trying to find her feet in her new role is really interesting in this ep and the contrast between the first meeting and the later one when she makes Quinn sign a napkin contract to leave if the book bombs (boss move on Kelsey’s part, I rate that whole exchange a lot higher than Maggie’s current Uber rating...you’re welcome), demonstrates that Kelsey has the capacity to be a great publisher, but obvs there will be loads of DRAH-MAH to get there this season. But I tell you, if that drama includes being forced to chant in a restaurant full of strangers with a billionaire who may or may not have peaked in high school (Liza’s ‘what is happening’, the birth of ‘Big K’, Quinn sort of shrieking ‘are you crying?’, I just cannot with it all) then I am HERE FOR IT. I love the whole ridiculous scenario so much and once again, it’s flat out absurd but it somehow works and I’m 100% looking forward to Quinn’s next hit, coming this season: Fifty Shades of Cray.

Kelsey’s insecurity kicks into overdrive straight after lunch and this is undoubtedly going to be a recurring theme, as evidenced in the later exchange between Kelsey and Liza when Liza passes on the advice Charles offered in relation to publishing Claw as the first Millennial title under the new regime.  Kelsey chastising Liza for discussing the book with Charles was the first sign that the pressure is getting to her and the immediate accusation that Liza was running her ideas past Charles (as opposed to just talking about her day, you know, as you do with someone you’re in a relationship with) mirrored Kelsey’s reaction to finding out Liza and Charles were together in season 5, when she leapt to the conclusion that Liza was trying to undermine her decision not to publish the Krieger book. 

Kelsey assuming the worst of Liza is something I really struggle with, especially considering Liza has proven time and time again that she has Kelsey’s back. I am still scratching my head at how the whole exchange resulted in Liza feeling the need to give a peace offering to Kelsey at the gender reveal party later, but I will park that for now. Ultimately, I felt sorry for Kelsey as we saw her presume that Liza thinks she’s out of her depth and misconstrue Liza saying she wasn’t strong enough with Quinn regarding the edits to mean that Liza doesn’t think Kelsey is strong enough herself. There has to be a point when Kelsey realises that Liza and co. all want her to succeed and turns to them for the support each can offer (at least I hope there comes a point) so it will certainly be interesting to see that play out.

Even at the fancy clothes event (this is what I have been referring to it as since seeing everyone dressed up in promos etc so I’ll stick with it) Kelsey is feeling like she does not belong (can we just talk about Kelsey’s portrait wedged in between all the unremarkable white-haired white men on the event poster? I want to print that whole display as postcards to send to people for no reason). Zane’s, ‘You’re standing in front of a bar, you’ve never belonged anywhere more in your life’, was both accurate and also a sweet attempt to reassure Kelsey. I’m finding Kelsey’s willingness to show vulnerability to Zane this season quite a contrast to their previous dynamic; last episode she was talking about finding her job harder than expected and this week, she reveals her struggle with impostor syndrome. I’m neither offended or excited by the Zelsey situation so that will be what it is and for those who are into it, I feel like there might be some great moments coming up in that relationship now that they appear to be on again *shrug emoji* Are they? Not sure. I am curious to see whether their relationship allows Kelsey to continue to open up more and give the audience a glimpse into her struggles and fears and I feel like I say this a lot, but I would like to get to continue to get to know Zane.

It would be remiss of me not to acknowledge that my excitement for Liza and Charles being dressed up and out together as an actual couple was through the roof going into this episode. Their entrance, with Charles’ smitten gaze firmly on Liza, followed quickly by the effortless literary exchange that reveals Liza is feeling a little out of her depth at such an event herself = le sigh. What I did not expect though was a) how much I was going love Lauren in this scene, I mean I really do love every time she is on my screen, but her conversation with Diana and Enzo, I could just transcribe it word for word (or you should just watch it again) because the whole thing, including Enzo’s delight and Diana’s horror (just a modern-day Juliet but with poop in her ear), was glorious; and b) Charles telling Liza that she’s taking bullets meant for him and he needs to fix it and the entire apology to Diana that followed. Zane and Charles’ little nods and Charles’ obvious diversion from Liza asking what that was about is duly noted, clearly the mystery around the newest Millennial/40-something team abounds and will no doubt come to a head soon. 

So it may have been a convenient distraction, but Charles cutting through the awkwardness to tell Diana they both know he owes her an apology, only for her to lay it all out as only Diana could, encapsulated the dynamic we’ve seen for the past five season between these two characters perfectly. Even though it’s only been two episodes, I miss their incidental interactions in the office, even if they’re often only fleeting. Obviously I blacked out momentarily when Charles told Diana that he can’t apologise for falling in love with Liza, but I thankfully regained consciousness in time to hear Diana twist Charles’ words and be happy to leave it as her hearing that she would be running Millennial had it been up to Charles. 

I love that Liza continues to confront Charles and challenge him if she disagrees with him and hearing that Charles’ belief in Kelsey is genuine was lovely and I am so pleased that he has been confirmed as an ally and backer of hers. The reality is, we knew that Empirical was in financial trouble last season, Charles was open about that, but his advice around how to handle Quinn’s book was sound, I love that he also acknowledged that maybe Kelsey’s plan will work and I feel like the ‘experience means something’ idea may resurface in a surprising way down the track. Liza’s cogs were clearly turning and the challenge for her is going to be whether she is strong enough to call Kelsey out or stand up to her at times. 

I am glad to see Charles respect that Liza is in a difficult position and his understanding when she asked that they not discuss Millennial was admirable. I adore how dry Charles is when he and Liza are alone, his humour in the way he talks about branching out to other cuisines and of course, the fabulous dead pan agreement that he will not tell Liza about the movie other than a few tidbits and ‘that’s all you get’ *swoon*. Cue Liza once again being unabashedly suggestive and helping herself to dessert. I really appreciate that Younger shows the way characters are different in these private romantic relationships, it’s realistic and reflects the way we show different sides of ourselves when we’re with someone we love and are comfortable with. Of course Liza’s request to keep work talk out of the relationship will no doubt prove problematic as Charles and Zane’s machinations unfold, however it also means that if Charles is not forthcoming in revealing their plans, he may arguably be respecting her wishes. I still hold out hope that whatever drama that needs to play out does so, but that Kelsey, Liza, Charles and Zane ultimately team up again to work together, along with Diana and Lauren. I mean, talk about the A team.

Speaking of A teams, Diana and Enzo (#Dianzo I think we settled on??). Never have I shushed at a character quite like I did Diana as she careened towards the point of no return during her post-event walk with Enzo. It was like watching some kind of horrifying game of insult Jenga, where instead of wooden pieces, every time Diana kept trying to clarify that actually, she just meant she thought she’d be with someone cultured, sophisticated etc, we could see the pieces of Enzo’s heart being slowly extracted before the whole thing broke completely (along with mine). I actually yelled ‘stop talking’ at one point and it was a reminder that Diana’s tendency to be self absorbed and inconsiderate is still well and truly in tact. It did allow for yet another splendid Lauren/Diana interaction the next morning at work, Lauren’s sympathy evident as she referred to Diana by her actual name instead of Diva, and I just love how obsessed Lauren is with Diana. I need to see more of them together and yes please out at a bar. 

Of course the real pay off and Dianzo resolution came towards the end of the episode when we discovered that Diana had written and published their love story herself. Side note: I want Miriam Shor to narrate all my books. Diana and Enzo’s simple yet emotional reunion was so moving, in part because of the accompanying narration but also because Diana’s walls are finally down with Enzo, she’s allowing herself to be in love with him because that’s what she wants and needs. I just love the character development of Diana over the series and I cannot wait to see the Diana and Enzo story unfold over the rest of the season. 

The fastest moving part of this episode was undoubtedly the gender reveal to birth of baby which occurred in the space of about four minutes. When Liza arrived at the party I really got the impression that as she looked over at Josh and Clare, she was simply happy for them. And poor Liza being tasked with holding the balloon for the big reveal only to let it go, that whole situation was so relatable and would definitely be me if I was given that responsibility. Clare did a fantastic job of moving from first contraction to crowning baby in the back of an Uber in mere minutes. I cannot even tell you how ecstatic I am that Maggie was the character put into the back of that car, that scene was so bonkers but the dialogue, from Maggie asking why she was in the splash zone and ‘it’s coming for me’ and telling Josh the breathing’s not working, to Clare’s ‘you and I are the only two women who’ve been inside my mother, we’re bonded’ and of course ‘no baby in my Uber!’, it has to have been one of the most hectic moments ever on this show but jeez was it funny.

The entire outro of this episode, with Diana’s narration tying together all the fragments, was sublime and obviously credit to Don Roos for the stellar writing. I have said it before, but having a young guy so openly yearn to be a father is really refreshing and seeing Josh with his baby was beautiful. This character just desperately wants to love and be loved and I really believe that his daughter will give that to him in a way he deserves. For Liza, seeing Josh with the baby would undoubtedly dredge up all kinds of feelings. I am not naive enough to believe that the writers won’t continue to stoke the ‘Team’ debate, however for now I am going to put my faith in the fact that actually, the story that’s playing out is one that is real and multifaceted. To see an ex, whom you loved, with a baby that you were very clear you did not want, I don’t doubt that there would be a moment of, ‘what would my life have looked like if that had been me?’. It doesn’t mean Liza wants that now, but I do believe that coupled with the words Diana is reading, it is a time of letting go and reflection for Liza.

When Liza returns to the brownstone (ok, two things quickly, umm how does she get in to the house? I would NOT put it past C. Brooks to have given her a key already but I need confirmation asap. Also, turns out casual Charles is a barefoot guy, which I am struggling with a little because it is Winter and he is sitting reading, surely there’d at least be socks but apparently not), I will admit that I found the exchange between her and Charles a little odd, I can’t really explain why. I really liked Charles’ reaction to the news of a baby girl, his understanding of what it’s like to become a parent felt really evident in his response. I could (most likely am) be completely over-thinking it, but I wonder if Charles asking Liza if she’s happy is because he knows this would be hard for Liza? 

I feel like the fact she needs a hug is a dead give away that she’s needing some TLC and time to process. I truly love a hug, I find them to be more intimate sometimes than a kiss, like a real proper hug and I feel like we don’t get many on TV and the way Liza pulls Charles to her and he holds her does things to my heart. The look on Liza’s face at the end, it is obviously to serve the purpose of stirring up the Josh/Charles debate but you know what? I just want to engage in the narrative as it is written and I do believe that Liza is happy with Charles and is grieving the ‘what could have been’ with Josh in that moment and to me, that’s ok. It will be how these characters and the story move forward from this point that I’m really keen to see.

All in all, I really enjoyed episode 2, it was an episode of extremes in many ways because the funny was oh so funny and the emotional really up and got me at the end there.

Be sure to have your fire blankets ready for next week’s ep, if you’ve seen the sneak peek you know why and if you haven’t just trust me, it will be necessary.

[srcbin-blog]

                ﹤  𝙹𝚄𝙽𝙶  𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙴𝚈𝙴𝙾𝙽,  𝚂𝙷𝙴/𝙷𝙴𝚁,  𝙲𝙸𝚂  𝙵𝙴𝙼𝙰𝙻𝙴  ﹥;  *  -  hello  𝑹𝑶𝑩𝑰𝑵 𝑺𝑬𝑶.  long  time  no  see.  i  know  a  lot  about  you.  like  how  you're  𝑻𝑾𝑬𝑵𝑻𝒀-𝑶𝑵𝑬,  how  you're  a  𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑼𝑻𝑬𝑹  𝑺𝑪𝑰𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬  major,  and  in  fact..  how  you  𝑬𝑿𝑬𝑪𝑼𝑻𝑬𝑫  𝑨  𝑫𝑶𝑺  𝑨𝑻𝑻𝑨𝑪��  𝑶𝑵  𝑨  𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑨𝑵𝒀  𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑻  𝑹𝑬𝑱𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑫  𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹  𝑰𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑵𝑺𝑯𝑰𝑷  𝑨𝑷𝑷𝑳𝑰𝑪𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵,  𝑪𝑶𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮  𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑴  𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑼𝑺𝑨𝑵𝑫𝑺  𝑶𝑭  𝑫𝑶𝑳𝑳𝑨𝑹𝑺  𝑰𝑵  𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑭𝑰𝑻.  would  be  a  shame  if  it  got  out,  wouldn't  it  ?  so  let's  play  a  game.  𝚃𝚁𝚄𝚃𝙷  𝙾𝚁  𝙳𝙰𝚁𝙴  ?

                ♡    whaddup it’s dri !!! & here’s robin, prime example of what can go wrong if you were a golden child and have to confront the fact that you’re not hot shit anymore SKJFHGDS she’s like a brand brand new muse so i apologize in advance if this is a Mess

*  ╱  𝒃 𝒂 𝒄 𝒌 𝒈 𝒓 𝒐 𝒖 𝒏 𝒅

                ♡    growing up, she was the girl everyone’s parents wanted their kid to be like — well-behaved, studious, etc. — and was easily the cause of annoyance to her friends whenever she visited their homes. they didn’t hate her, but they were incredibly envious because it seemed as though their parents tended to treat her so well, almost like a daughter they wished they had. 

                ♡    if only things were like that in her actual home !! her parents paid very little attention to her, and it’s obvious that her being born was a hassle in the way of their own pursuits. her mother was the editor-in-chief for a fashion magazine and her father was a patent attorney, but robin’s nanny was more like a parent to her than they ever were. they enrolled her in whatever programs they could — piano lessons, violin lessons, test prep, you name it — just to get her out of their hair.

                ♡    she caught on to the fact that her parents didn’t really love her early on, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to try to have a family dynamic a lot of her classmates seemed to have. her desire for parental love and validation led her to overachieve in .. basically all aspects. robin figured that maybe if she proved herself to have been worthy of .. giving birth to SDGDSKGSD maybe her parents would learn to love her.

                ♡    yea things didn’t really work out like that, and if anything, her parents got even busier as she got older. taking her schoolwork and extracurriculars quite seriously, in high school, she was second chair violin (she beat herself up other this), captain of her robotics team, among several other smaller feats. but to all these they’d only award her with something along the lines of “that’s nice.” she often had to give other parents excuses as to why only her nanny showed up to orchestra concerts, leaving a reputation that her parents were always busy busy!!

                ♡    she came to terms with the fact that her parents will just never seem to care for her and that’s facts! but her desire to succeed and prove herself worthy of something, whatever that was of this point, became like an addiction. weird, but it’s kind of comforting to know that she at least has this, her reputation of being an ideal daughter. because even if her parents don’t think so, it’s nice that other people do. 

                ♡    going into college for computer science (emphasis cybersecurity) was Stressful for her tho because of all the new challenges and competition!! she dealt with so much impostor syndrome and almost snapped ... so many times KLSHDGSD but as she would always do, she threw herself into her work 2 Distract Herself from this crisis. sleeping in the library? her fun hobby!! burnout??? almost like a personality trait!! she could literally be hungover and she’d force herself to study but she’d still find herself performing not the Very Best ... luv a downward spiral !!

                ♡    things kinda started to change a Lot when she started applying to internships her second yr :0 things started to change bc she kept getting rejected LKSJDHGSD this ?? freaked her out !! the first time was like a kick to the face sure .. but the second time was like a stab in the back .. n by the third time ?? she snapped !! she couldn’t take it anymore ! (see: secret 4 more detailz)

                ♡    in the time following .. she started to .. mayhaps Chill a lil bit .. a lot bit .. SLJDGHSDG she still has her overachiever tendencies practically ingrained in her personality but she’s kinda givin up .. she’s like what’s the point if no one thinks i’m worthy !! she’s a crisis wrapped in a pretty bow jus trying to find herself bc once her golden child identity was ripped from her hands .. she doesn’t know what she has left ;/

*  ╱  𝒑 𝒆 𝒓 𝒔 𝒐 𝒏 𝒂 𝒍 𝒊 𝒕 𝒚

                ♡    for someone who used to think she was hot shit, robin’s actually a really easy friend to make ?? is it bc she’s lonely ?? Maybe !! she isn’t the type to initiate conversations, though, so oftentimes people are afraid to approach her bc of her rbf mixed with sleep deprivation

                ♡    no one really ever expected her to be a partier when she got to college, but it sure proved to be a nice distraction from everything else going on in her life !! catch her with a mixed drink on a friday night chattin with some dudez

                ♡    someone PLEASE love her LSDJHGKSDG she tries to find love n companionship everywhere but never tries to force it — the moment a partner shows any sense of disinterest she gets scared and walks away. she’ll try to find slivers of affection here and there, but she doesn’t believe she’s actually deserving of love.

                ♡    feels weird about breaking rules but easily falls victim to the bandwagon effect nowadays !! she’s walking the fine line between being chaotic and having it together, it’s only a matter of time until she goes full chaos, maybe erebus gna pull the #trigger on tht :0 

                ♡    stress relief is being chaotic on the sims 4 and making sims only to like .. kill them off in a fire or have them fight because for a girl who can hold a grudge, she can’t handle irl confrontation

*  ╱  𝒔 𝒆 𝒄 𝒓 𝒆 𝒕

                ♡    so yeah like i mentioned earlier, miss robin kept getting rejected from internships and she really just Could Not Take It !! whoever said third time’s the charm is a Liar !!!

                ♡    long story short .. she’s ends up so frustrated .. so spiteful .. that she literally executes a DOS attack on the company that rejected her DSGSDSDKLG the server was down for almost a full day before coming back online, and she costed the company thousands of dollars in revenue

                ♡    she never spoke about it after the fact, she felt pretty disgusted of herself once she had realized what she had done .. a girl was having a crisis ! and she fucking hacked a whole ass company KLJDGSD her Power !! 

                ♡    robin’s not a complete fool, though, and she took the necessary precautions to make sure they couldn’t trace it back to her (but tbh it also could’ve just looked like their servers were overloaded n it was Their Mistake) but yea this gal hid her ip and the whole shebang !! she’s taken cybersecurity classes she knows what’s up !

                ♡    it’s been about two years since, but she is still haunted by what she did and the potential of getting caught keeps her up at night bc 1) she will go to jail and 2) her parents will Really never love her at this rate KLJDSGS

[spongki]

april come she will.

Wasn’t able to write last month’s Spongkify which I'm bummed about because March was actually filled with new music discoveries and obsessions. Nonetheless I will talk about them because I’ve been itching to, but maybe I’ll do it some other time. For now, I wanna talk about stuff that went down during this month of April. Sorry for the corny title, I thought it seemed apt. Plus that Simon & Garfunkel song is pretty good, not gonna lie.

For starters, I took a leave of absence from university. I’ve been meaning to do so since last semester but I decided to push through with my sophomore year anyway since I wanted to be productive during my leave but I hadn’t planned anything yet. But whoever's controlling my simulation revels in spontaneity and loves to catch me off-guard, so due to personal reasons I had to forcibly take a leave. Anyway, it’s not bad as I made it sound. I hated school. I was more than fine with this outcome. I’ve been on a job hunt recently and I’ve been selling some of my old stuff to make extra money while I’m at it.

Really though, the actual highlight of the month is my very first gig of this year and of my life(!!!) I went to see one of my favorite indie Filipino bands She’s Only Sixteen in saGuijo Bar, Makati.

[Bassist Anjo flipping off their guitarist Andrew]

I don’t think you understand how much this means to me. Ever since I was a kid I’ve dreamt of going home to the Philippines to experience the indie/alternative scene in the country that is practically non-existent in the UAE. Dubai didn’t have that kind of grit. I’ve always craved for it m, and this was my first taste. The bar was filled with patrons and frequents and it made me feel slightly left out (more than the fact that I came alone, which I’ll elaborate later) but I was there for the music first and foremost. The "story" was that I was supposed to go with my sister but she didn’t get to book her ticket early even after I reminded her way too many times to do it as soon as possible (If she didn't want to go, she shouldn't have beat around the bush). I told my two friends who I thought would be interested but they acknowledged my message too late so they didn't get their tickets either.

And so it was a big bummer, yes, that I went to my first ever gig alone. I worked up the courage to join a group of friends so I wouldn’t be seen as a pathetic loner (even though I was convinced I could get through the night by myself) and the two kind angels they were, my god. They ordered beer(s) for me and said it was on them. Another guy who I stood beside with during the other bands’ performance even gave me the rest of his pack after I only asked for one.

I had to rub my eyes to make sure I wasn’t in a dream. Heaven, perhaps? No, I was still at Guijo. Quaint and cramped saGuijo... where unusually nice people reside, apparently.

It was one of the best experiences of my life and I’ve never been so glad to have gone alone. More than the fact that this was my first gig and of my favorite Filipino band, I also didn't chicken out (which, believe me, I was seriously considering at that time). I kick my social anxiety in the ass and it's why I'm here, currently writing about this fond memory.

Might be slightly overreacting here, but the thought of attending more gigs in the future really gave me more will to live. Seriously. This experience slid in a bit of optimism in the dread of adulthood.

It’s crazy how the "impostor syndrome" can make you feel old at 20, but I remember telling the girls I sat with at the bar my age and they practically cooed at how young I was. It then occurred to me how much I have ahead of me. It made me feel some sort of pride as a young adult.

I might have grown up too fast as a kid. I thought I knew things and thought I was capable of understanding things that an average kid didn’t and wouldn't (and perhaps shouldn't), but at the end of the day I was just that - I was just a kid. And this, right now, is literally just the beginning. Like, dude, you've only recently become of legal age. What's the rush?

I'm living the kind of experiences younger me used to look forward to. Perhaps being an adult isn't so bad... at least for now.

[olivereliott]

The Rut 50K: A Race Report

High on the east ridge of Lone Peak, at about 10,500 feet or so, The Rut 50K started to feel like a cartoon, in which an idiot, me, runs and hikes up an incline at a fast (for me) but hopefully sustainable pace, as the grade gradually gets steeper and steeper, until, just before the summit, the idiot tips over backwards and rolls back to the start. 

This, of course, is not true. The elevation map of the race course actually looks like this:

But right around Mile 20, I felt like I’d been carefully picking my way up Lone Peak’s east ridge for six hours, three feet in front of a guy from Eugene the entire time. With the steep terrain, fatigue, altitude, a decreased amount of readily available oxygen for breathing, and the mental exhaustion of climbing a neverending pile of rocks while trying to not dislodge anything onto people below me, many elements were coming together to crush my morale, and me. 

This is also not true. I was just one of 500 or so people to sign up for The Rut 50K this year. The Rut is an annual event that is essentially a European-style sky race held in Big Sky, Montana, designed by two American sadomasochists named Mike (Foote and Wolfe), with several events ranging from a Vertical Kilometer to the 50K. One way to look at the 50K race might be, “Hey, I ran the Chicago Marathon last year, and The Rut 50K is only five miles longer than that.” 

Here are some words and phrases from the website for The Rut 50K: 

“extremely challenging”

“EXTREMELY STEEP & TECHNICAL” 

“exposure” 

“potential rockfall hazard”

“true mountain course”

“rockfall hazards”

“mountainous and technical nature” 

It’s probably good policy for mountain running race organizers to use strong language in describing their events, just so no one gets in over their head and then later says things like “no one told me would be this hard,” or “suddenly, there I was, staring death in the face,” or “[sounds of a person sitting on a pile of rocks and weeping uncontrollably].” But also, you could probably be forgiven for a tiny bit of skepticism as far as race marketing is concerned, i.e. “I don’t know, has anyone ACTUALLY died doing this ‘Death Race’ we’re signing up for?”

There is at least one spot on The Rut 50K where you could legitimately fall, and possibly not stop falling until you were dead and/or have way more than 208 bones in your body. 

I did not, as may be obvious at this point, die doing The Rut. I did perhaps underestimate it a tiny bit. 

The race started at 6:00 a.m., a few minutes before sunrise, in three waves, five minutes apart, each wave a few hundred runners jogging uphill, a stream of headlamps, nerves, and chatter leaving the Big Sky Resort base area. Where should I start? Certainly not at the front of the first wave, where the elite runners and other super-mutants would be, ripping off three-minute miles uphill or whatever. Probably not at the back of the third wave, based on my previous race results. I really had no idea what to expect, so I did what I always do: Start way too far back in the pack, and then waste tons of energy frantically trying to pass people during the race. This is probably some combination of impostor syndrome and Midwestern over-politeness, or maybe I’m just not that smart.

Another role I had signed up for: running with a younger friend, Devon, and theoretically helping him not go too fast for the first few miles of the race. Devon had finished an 18-day traverse of the Wind River Range literally 60 hours before the start, and is a full decade-plus younger than me, so for the first nine miles, we settled somewhere in between me holding him back and him dragging me up the trail. When the route went from fire road to singletrack, there were bottlenecks of single-file lines of people, where we literally stood waiting in line for a couple minutes. 

In the first nine miles, in any spot where the trail widened in the forest, Devon and I accelerated around runners in front of us, sometimes one at a time, sometimes a handful of people. I did have a small bit of anxiety knowing that at a certain point, the course would hit a 1.2-mile section climbing 2,000 feet up the ridge of Lone Peak, where it would be pretty difficult to pass anyone without them very graciously stepping off to the side of the path, so I was motivated to pass people early on, where it was easy and safe. But I had more anxiety about running myself into the ground in the first 10 miles of the race by going way too fast way too early. Just before Mile 9, I told Devon to go ahead without me, because although I am not smart, I am also not proud, and he shot off through the trees like a gazelle, finally free. 

I had thoroughly studied the course map and elevation profile in the days and weeks leading up to the race, but still found myself surprised at all the ups and downs as we tromped through the forest, popped out above treeline, then dropped back into the trees again. I had downloaded the GPX map of the course onto my phone and could open it at any time to see where I was on the course, but I decided to just keep plodding on in ignorance, following the flags. Somewhere around Mile 14 or so, the course went from what I would call “pretty normal” to “OK, this is not an actual hiking trail that anyone uses for anything not named ‘The Rut.’” At that point, I was thankful I had talked myself into carrying trekking poles, ignoring the advice of at least one friend, who was well-meaning, but who also drastically overestimated my VO2 max. I mean, they weigh 10.5 ounces, and are very handy when you want to lean on something and shed a few tears, instead of collapsing all the way to the ground to convulse with sobs. 

I managed to under-eat the morning of the race, and was hungry the entire day, shoving down Clif Bloks and Honey Stinger Waffles whenever I could, often chewing while mouth-breathing in huge gasps as I hiked steep uphills. I had packed something like 2,000 calories for the day in my vest, in hopes that it would keep me from wasting time at aid stations, because I often unintentionally spend more time gazing at the layout of M&Ms, chips, pickles, Oreos, etc. than most people do putting together a plate at the Sizzler salad bar, and then end up confused at how six people passed me in the time I took to fill one water bottle and walk away with a double-handful of Cheez-Its. 

At the 14.5-mile mark, we started climbing up steep talus. The pack had thinned out and I had found a pretty appropriate spot, every once in a while passing someone or letting someone pass me, but for the most part able to settle in, put my head down, and watch my feet. Surely, I thought—without actually checking my GPS app to see where we were on the course—this must be the big climb up Lone Peak. Here we go. 

Imagine my internal dismay 40 minutes later when the route started going downhill from a high point of about 10,100 feet. Going down always feels good, but not as good when you know you’ll have to climb right back up every single foot you descend. We dropped to 8,280 feet, hitting a fire road, which was nice for a few minutes, I guess. But the course’s high point was 11,166 feet, somewhere above us. 

  If you hit Mile 17 during a flat-ish 50K, you’re psyched! You’re more than halfway to the finish! If you hit Mile 17 during The Rut, you are … not as psyched! You are more than halfway to the finish … in mileage only! You are about to spend an hour or an hour and a half grinding up a steep incline, 2,900 feet in 2.5 miles! You will “run” a 40-minute mile! Your fancy GPS watch will, instead of showing your pace per mile, will display a series of dashes, basically saying “you are not moving—are you OK?”

The good thing is, you eventually get to the top. Maybe you’re motivated by finishing the race, maybe because everywhere you look you’re surrounded by angular blocks of rock that would not be comfortable to sit or lie down on, maybe because finishing the race will be a visceral metaphor for other things you hope to face in life, or maybe because you know deep down that literally hundreds of other people have done the same thing so you can too, and some of those people have literally gotten a complimentary Run the Rut tattoo at the finish line, a real tattoo, not a temporary one, because that is a thing they do at this race. 

At the top of Lone Peak are some nice people handing out water and snacks, including, when I was there, a shirtless man wearing a full-length fur coat. The actual aid station we passed through was a solid 30 or 40 vertical feet below the summit of Lone Peak itself, and for a moment, my inner peak-bagger felt conflicted about getting this close to the summit after working that hard to get there and not actually tagging it, but I decided to keep moving forward, and down the mountain. 

The route down Lone Peak is steep, starting with dinner-plate talus, then scree, then steep trails. I had seen people wearing running gaiters at the beginning of the race, and as I made my way down and kicked rocks into my own shoes, I thought this might be the one place I could have used them in my life. Alas, I did not have any. Nor did I take the time to do proper self-care/self-preservation practices, like, I don’t know, emptying the rocks out of my shoes at any point during the final 11 miles of the race. 

I enjoy lying to myself during races, a tactic I believe is a form of positive self-talk. I do not enjoy it when I catch myself in the lies I have told myself earlier. Such as “You’ll start feeling better when you only have five miles to go,” or “That weird feeling in your lower intestine is unlikely to turn into anything remotely explosive before the end of the race,” or in this case, “That was the last big climb—it should be a cruise from here,” and “We’re back below treeline, so it’s probably just gently rolling from here on out.” 

I had read some race reports from previous years, so I should have been well aware that the last 10 miles or so seemed to be generally demoralizing. True, all the “big” climbs were out of the way, and most of what was left was below treeline. But before the finish, we still had a 500-foot climb, a 900-foot climb, and a 400-foot climb. I started up the beginning of the 900-foot climb, on a steep trail that I’m pretty sure I heard had a rope on it at one point for runners to use to pull themselves up the incline, and found myself surrounded by a glut of people in various states of mild to extreme discontent: our pace slowed to an uphill crawl, some people muttering half-jokes about how terrible they felt, others hunched over with their hands on their knees or leaning on a tree, maybe about to throw up. I kept going, thankful I had trekking poles, both as life support and security blanket. 

This, I think, is where many people start to hate the Rut. You start to ask yourself what the point of going up and down these hills is (as if the whole idea of the race isn’t also contrived and pointless, in the grand scheme of human existence), why they would send you this way instead of a route that’s more friendly (or even just flat), and maybe why you didn’t sign up for the 28K or the 11K instead of the 50K. 

The singletrack gave way to a road, which started to ease up as I inched closer to an aid station. Spectators waiting for the runner(s) they knew to come through dotted the sides of the road, cheering everyone who came past. One woman yelled, “Nice job, you’re almost there,” and I said “Thank you, existentially, we’re already there, aren’t we?” I power-hiked into the aid station and a young gentleman named Dash filled my water bottles and I grabbed a couple half-bananas and gulped them down. 

The course wound mostly downhill through intermittent forest, finally topping out on the last climb a half-mile from the finish line, where a couple guys sitting on the side of the fire road told me Nice job, you’re really, really done with the last climb now, and then another guy 100 feet later said “Those guys are lying,” and I laughed as I jogged past, the ski area base within view, and around the corner from that, the finish line. Which is where, I think, people begin the transition from hating the Rut to loving the Rut. As is common in this sport, the same person who, at 1 p.m. one day carries themselves along a trail on fumes of motivation and curses everything that brought them to that point, 24 or 48 hours later will earnestly tell people who ask about their race, “It was great.” Whatever that means. 

If you liked this story, please consider supporting my work via Patreon, which enables me to keep writing and drawing, and will also make you feel good (and get you a bunch of members-only stuff, including discounts to my shop).

The post The Rut 50K: A Race Report appeared first on Semi-Rad.com.

[inkrbench]

Science and Stupidity

Here’s another crosspost from an answer I posted on Quora on graduate education. The question was:

As a 3rd year PhD student, I feel quite incompetent and dumb compared to my labmates. What should I do?

I can approach this question two different ways:

First, and the answer I favor, is better given by Martin Schwartz, in his 2008 essay published in the Journal of Cell Science. You can and should read the whole thing here, but here’s a quote:

I recently saw an old friend for the first time in many years. We had been Ph.D. students at the same time, both studying science, although in different areas. She later dropped out of graduate school, went to Harvard Law School and is now a senior lawyer for a major environmental organization. At some point, the conversation turned to why she had left graduate school. To my utter astonishment, she said it was because it made her feel stupid. After a couple of years of feeling stupid every day, she was ready to do something else. […] Science makes me feel stupid too. It's just that I've gotten used to it. So used to it, in fact, that I actively seek out new opportunities to feel stupid. I wouldn't know what to do without that feeling.

And another one:

I remember the day when Henry Taube (who won the Nobel Prize two years later) told me he didn't know how to solve the problem I was having in his area. I was a third-year graduate student and I figured that Taube knew about 1000 times more than I did (conservative estimate). If he didn't have the answer, nobody did.

That's when it hit me: nobody did. That's why it was a research problem. And being my research problem, it was up to me to solve. Once I faced that fact, I solved the problem in a couple of days. (It wasn't really very hard; I just had to try a few things.) The crucial lesson was that the scope of things I didn't know wasn't merely vast; it was, for all practical purposes, infinite. That realization, instead of being discouraging, was liberating. If our ignorance is infinite, the only possible course of action is to muddle through as best we can.

Bottom line - science is all about solving the unknown. I feel stupid all the time. In the past, I was training to be a physician, and medical school decidedly did not make me feel stupid, because it was about learning facts and committing them to memory — fewer unknowns, fewer reasons to doubt, to question, or re-evaluate. Critical thinking is tough. But I consider feeling stupid a good sign — it keeps me humble, and it keeps me asking questions to solve problems. Knowing everything is an illusion, and a barrier that keeps us from seeking out new knowledge. (p.s. not hating on med school here. Just saying it’s different from science.)

Second approach — and this one, I think, is something you can coach yourself to think differently about: A lot of us graduate students have what has popularly become known as the “impostor’s syndrome”. You can google it and read the lengthy definitions on what this is, but essentially, it’s a cognitive distortion that makes us think “oh no I’m such a hackfraud, and someone will someday realize, and then they’ll tell me I’m not cut out to do this. I’m not good enough.” It’s basically a kind of inferiority complex that is hard to shake off.

Truth is, you are probably good enough, and probably are cut out to get a PhD just fine, or else you wouldn’t have gotten into graduate school in the first place. Impostor’s syndrome will give you a hard time, even as you continue to accomplish impressive feats that clearly and objectively count as evidence against your stupidity/ineptitude. Combined with being surrounded by a lot of bright people (this is research, after all), it’s not unexpected to feel this way. We all go through it (well, most of us do). I certainly did. At first, I was worried all these amazing schools that had accepted me were going to think they’d made a mistake. Then, after joining my lab, I was worried they would soon realize I was incompetent and kick me out. When my mentor praised me on my accomplishments, I thought they were doing it to be nice and did not actually mean it. I basically subconsciously found new ways to be self-deprecating all the time.

But! As soon as you identify it, impostor’s syndrome becomes easier to deal with. Eventually, I noticed (with the help of my advisor, colleagues, family and friends, of course) that I wasn’t as dumb and inept as I worried about. I was doing well in graduate school, and there was clear evidence that I had potential to succeed. People who praised me were telling the truth, just like they were telling the truth when they offered constructive criticism (both were geared towards motivating me and helping me grow as a scientist). Sometimes, you need to take a step back and try to evaluate the big picture of the course of your training. It’s hard, and takes time, but once you do it, most of the insecurity goes away. And just so you know, the people you compare yourself to probably feel the same way. That’s grad school for you!

I hope this is helpful. Good luck!

[mechamark]

S3E4 “The Lost Episodes, pt2″

A.K.A. The Super Hot Springs Special!

One of the many positives of working as a teacher at my school is that when kids are off for the week, the staff usually follows suit. And so last week I found myself with a bit of free time and a craving to go with Yuka to somewhere we haven’t been.

While I initially stumped for Kyoto, the logistics didn’t match up with our time frame. Even though I had the week off, Yuka was still busy with her own schedule. This left our window for adventure open to the weekend. We had to narrow down our prospects based around time, price, and what we were looking to do.

In both time and price, Kyoto is a trip that deserves more than a quick stop over. We knew that we wanted to hit up some hot springs and check out the fall leaves changing. Luckily just north of us lies Saitama, checking off every box on the list.

As we shared on Facebook, our trip started early Friday morning via a local train route. The stops took us through cities and under a tunnel until we emerged surrounded by mountains.

Each subsequent stop brought us to another quiet town embedded in the hills. For a lot of people the isolation might feel like you’re cut off from the world. 

Ya’ll know where I’m going with this.

After about 2 hours, we finally arrived at the station in Chichibu city. Going up the stairs you are immediately greeted by a tall, vertical window that has a perfect view of the mountain just on the city’s edge.

The rest of the station was adorned with flags and posters advertising their matsuri for the local onsen. Accompanying these were animals symbolic to the town’s culture.

Seeing as check-in wasn’t for another hour or so, we decided to walk around the town and visit some of the local shrines and temples. We did this in my favorite way since moving here: through the beautiful side streets.

First up was a shrine hidden down one of these back roads. It was a small site and home to a memorial.

Sadly I admit that I am fuzzy on the finer details. The shrine had been built over three hundred years ago during the reign of Tokugawa and was used as the gathering hub of a peasant uprising.

Along the steps leading up to the shrine were many headstones. I am not sure if they were from those who fought or if they came after.

We made our way back down to the road and onward to a big temple. It’s size is so renowned that before being renamed Chichibu, the city was named Omiya, or “Big Shrine”.

After Tokugawa Ieyasu took control of the country, his influence extended to many Shinto shrines, including this one. While the majority of the temple was aloud to continue its practices, there is a shrine in dedication to Tokugawa inside.

With regards to the Shinto practices, the rest of the temple grounds are adorned with carvings of four animals that tell a story. 

As is often the case with Japan and Shintoism as a whole, there are many layers to the story that is presented. Within the time of a quick visit it becomes hard to decode metaphor and allegory. Suffice it to say, you could (and should!) spend a lot of time researching and digging into the history of such places.

With well over an hour spent, we made our way to a local train line to take us deeper into the town where we would check in to the hotel.

At our stop was the option to call a taxi, but we’ve always enjoyed a nice trip on foot when we can. 

Getting to see the town at a slower pace helps me take it in more and avoid viewing it as a blur. 

A short walk later and we were getting our room keys and a short tour of the place. Lodged right in the hillside, our room had a view of the river beneath us.

With a personal onsen just outside our room door, we spent the first few hours literally soaking it all in.

 Yuka and I don’t take vacation often. In the six years we’ve been together we’ve only managed a weekend getaway a few times. Each and every time I consider a treasure.

Around 6 we went down for dinner in a private room, a bottle of local wine, and many courses of locally-sourced food. It’s times like these that impostor syndrome kicks in full gear. 

Yuka and I aren’t what I’d consider “rich” by any stretch of the imagination. When we moved in together we made it a point to be very frugal about budgeting and having a healthy mindset for saving.

That being said..

I kinda felt like a supervillain. The food was delicious, though. 

Later that night we relaxed outside on the balcony and in the onsen. Going back inside we turned on the TV and Princess Mononoke was starting.

 It’s a confluence of these things happening that make me smile like a doofus and really bask in the moment of it all.

I am very aware of how lucky I am every day. Especially being Yuka’s partner.

The next morning we went to checkout and took a shuttle back to the train station. We were up for trekking it but when we walked out of the building there was a car waiting, courtesy of the hotel. This is a situation in which saying “no” would have been rude.

So we get to the train station just as the train is leaving. “No big deal”, we say. How long can the next one be? It’s a Saturday at noon, after all.

Tokyo has spoiled us.

You see, dear reader, we were not in Tokyo. We were in a small mountain town that does not get a lot of foot traffic this time of year. 

So we found ourselves with a cool hour to burn until the next train would be by.

It’s at this point that it pays to research the town you are staying in. History is quite fascinating you know!

Chichibu isn’t just known for it’s flower fields in the spring and hot springs in the fall. It became famous for something way, way cooler.

Some of the oldest coinage in Japan is due to the large metal copper deposits discovered in the area around the year 708. This find led to Chichibu erecting a shrine in dedication. 

We originally didn’t think we would be able to see it due to time. Once we suddenly found ourselves with an hour to kill and the shrine nearby, we couldn’t pass it up.

We made to make our return train, got to our connecting station, and had some lunch. A hot bowl of ramen later and we were on our way back to Tokyo. 

The train took us into a tunnel and Chichibu faded back behind the mountains.

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See You Next Time!!

[hellosocialchameleons]

People Doing Cool Stuff – Chalk of the Town | Megan Manning

I’m lucky enough to meet a lot of people from all over the world who are doing cool stuff!

  Having spent a lot of time working in pubs with prominent chalkboards like the Belgian Beer Cafe, The Greenwood and The Albion, I know how important it is to have them done professionally so they are neat, legible, and inviting. And I know it’s MUCH harder than it looks!

Let’s have a chat with Chalk Of The Town’s Megan Manning and find out how she does it!

Tell us a bit about yourself and your business – what is Chalk Of The Town all about?

I’m Meg and I run and operate Chalk of the Town signwriting.  What’s Chalk of the Town you ask? Well, I’m an artist and I work mainly with Chalkboards.

  Tell us about your journey, how did you get to this point?

I started my little business when I lived in Europe and needed to start making some money. I have always been creative and good at art so when the opportunity to work closely with a local artist to learn my trade arose I jumped at the opportunity.

I trained alongside my mentor for 6 months in Spain before returning to Australia and starting up my little business here 2 years ago and haven’t looked back yet.

Have you ever seen one of those fancy colourful chalkboards in a pub or a restaurant and wondered how or who did that? Well that’s what I do. I’m the person they hire to create those masterpieces!

I also create beautiful signage for weddings, parties, events and businesses which is cool because I get to work with other businesses and wedding vendors on photoshoots and all sorts.

  What music/song have you got on high rotation right now?

Well, It’s a pretty funny story. Most likely a ‘you have to be there kind of moment’ but, our kids LOVE Detroit Rock City from KISS so as we can imagine we have to play this every time we get in the car or are at home listening to music.

They all know the words (even the 2 and 3 year old) and jump around like crazy when it comes on. They are so cute!

  How do you stay motivated?

Hmmm, this is a hard one because sometimes I do struggle to motivate myself BUT I Love what I do so I just remind myself of that and it kicks me up the butt on the days that I need it.

  What/who inspires you?

This is so super soppy of me but I would have to say the person who does inspire me if my Husband to be. He is the most amazing person I have ever met and he inspires me to be the best person that I can be and to always work hard and to never give up.

  How do you deal with impostor syndrome?

Well, I just remind myself that I AM good at what I do and how far I have become.

  What’s your favorited place/way to relax?

My husband and I both work fulltime and we have 3 kids so we never really get to relax, because as you can imagine our life is pretty full on!

But when we do get a chance to have some ‘us time’ and relax our number 1 destination is Busselton, We often grab our snorkelling gear and go off snorkelling for the day. In this beautiful country it would be stupid not to, Right?

  If you hadn’t started your business what do you think you’d be doing right now?

A long long time ago before I became a mum I actually studied Graphic Design at university (this also comes in very handy for my business now) so most likely I would be doing something creative anyway.

  What’s been your most successful Social Media platform for your business? Do you think you’d be in the same place if it wasn’t for Social Media?

My Major Marketing Platform that I use is Facebook. About 99.9 % of my clientele has seen my work on Facebook or via word of mouth.

  Have you hit any huge problems that made you re-think your whole career? How did you get around it? What was your approach to solving the issue?

Yes, but only with Bride funnily enough.

I recently took 6 months out because of some not very nice people. I won’t go into details but it was a very stressful time that was completely unnecessary.

Thankfully thought I fought back and came out even stronger and more determined than ever.

  What is the hardest thing about your work?

I love my Job, I love the creativity and the freedom but sometimes you just meet people that have no idea about advertising, or don’t have a creative bone in there body and they are so adamant on an idea of what they want which is complete poo but they just won’t listen to your advice.

I find this hard because number 1 its my name on the artwork and number 2 it makes me cringe haha, but apart from that I am really luckily to be doing what I do.

  How do you manage it all with such a busy schedule?

It’s taken me A long time to balance work with life but we are getting there. I am very strict about the hours that I work and where I work.

I have to work from home so I can take care of my children and I will not work after hours or at the weekend as that is family time. I have found balance and I manage to do all of my work and be a mum and wife at the same time. Its great.

  What’s next for you?

I would like to teach some hand lettering courses to the general public so that could be something I look into this year.

We will see how we go.

  How do we find and follow your cool story?

Facebook

Website

  Make sure you stay tuned for more cool stories! And if you think you’re doing something cool – get in touch!

The post People Doing Cool Stuff – Chalk of the Town | Megan Manning appeared first on Carma The Social Chameleon.

from People Doing Cool Stuff – Chalk of the Town | Megan Manning

[elysianmars]

rant rant rant

I used to have a really strong sense of what I wanted in life and although my plan on how to get there was never quite as clear, those markers guided me in ways I wasn’t always aware of.

I feel like now I’m stumbling in the dark and all of the things that used to be so central to my identity are falling away. I really don’t know what I want anymore, or at least not in a way that isn’t just super vague and unhelpful for that reason.

When I was younger and I realised that I actually could break the chain and go to college, it was one of the most terrifying and liberating periods in my life. Suddenly the concept of a whole new world was opening up before me and it was electrifying. Even though when I was in college I struggled a lot with impostor syndrome, those were the best years of my life because I LOVED what I was studying, I was quite good at it, and I felt like law was something I could leverage in such a way that in my future career I would be able to help people while being intellectually stimulated. 

Part of my plan was always to leave Ireland, and that’s still important to me. I had hoped to be out of here by now but it’ll be another little while at least. And I’ve known for a long time that I can’t have kids and that I’ll probably never have a relationship, so the idea that I could live my life totally for myself and kick ass was a comfort in that sense too. 

I feel like now I’m backed into a corner where there are very few realistic options. Sometimes I think that’s a ridiculous way to think about life and I’m sure to outsiders I have a lot more choices and avenues than I think. But the reality is that I don’t. The legal profession in Ireland is based on nepotism. It’s hilarious to me when people who have had solicitors and barristers and judges in their families for GENERATIONS tell me that isn’t true and it’s a meritocracy etc etc. It’s such bullshit. I want to practice law at the Bar, I want to be an advocate, but that will probably never happen because even with a law degree, and a pretty good one at that, I have to go through a fitness and probity assessment (because I don't have any family members at the Bar who can vouch for my character...) and then drop 20 grand on the training course, and then work for free for two years devilling with a practicing barrister. That’s isn’t realistic for me because I have to work full time to support myself and my family, and also finding a barrister to take me on would be difficult because I have no relations in law. It’s so immensely frustrating. There is one scholarship for the course, and depending on how things are by the end of the year I might say “fuck it!” and go for it, but like that doesn’t solve the long term problem of there being no way to make a living as a self-employed barrister when you have no family connections and no underlying financial support. 

And corporate law is just not for me. I might have to stick with it for the next year or so, but in the medium to long term it’s just not happening. The firm I work for are keen for me to take the FE1 exams and then train as a solicitor with them, and I have no interest in that. Any of the people I’ve said that to think I’m crazy and to be fair, I can kind of see why. What else can I do, like? But it’s so boring and so depressingly unimportant that I can’t dedicate my entire waking life to it in the way they want you to and expect. I joke a lot about being lazy and while that’s partly true, when I am passionate about something I will work myself into the ground without even realising it because it actively gives me energy to put time into it. This is draining and frustrating and not at all for me, so I can’t commit to it, even if to a lot of people that’s the more sensible option. 

I just feel really lost because I don’t know what the next step is, and I also have the whole housemate situation being a disaster thing to contend with. Like, I’ve almost been grateful for how hectic work is at the moment because it stops me from dwelling on the profound sadness I know is just beneath the surface at how someone who I thought of as one of my best, best friends is treating me. When I came home from work on Tuesday night at 2am, after having been working since 5am the previous morning, and was clearly tired and a little highly strung, he gave out to me because I said I was worried I wouldn’t be able to sleep because I felt anxious, literally asking “what do you have to be anxious about?” and then telling me my “problem” is that I take myself “too seriously”. He has said some really horrible, nasty things to me and the other night I was struggling to open the apartment door (I suck with locks and things like that, and being blind in one eye doesn’t help that at all), and he let me in and was so mad at me, to the point where I was actually a little bit scared and went straight into my room and pretended to go to sleep so I wouldn’t have to deal with it. There’s this whole side of him that I had never seen before and it feels as if he hates me. He took down a picture of the two of us at Versailles but left ever single other picture he has of him with other friends on the walls. He literally won’t look at me when he talks to me and grunts one word responses when I try to ask him about his day or make plans. It’s so stressful and upsetting and the tension is getting to be unbearable. I went for a drink with Eavan last night and when I went home she rang me a few minutes before I got back in case I couldn’t get the door unlocked and David had to let me in, so he'd see I was on the phone and not yell or get mad about it. That’s a red flag if ever there was one.

I have to go to work today to shower too, because the water tank is banjaxed and won’t be fixed until Tuesday. I have a nice few days ahead; today I’m going for lunch with Sorcha and to the cinema, then I’m going out to visit Sarah and our friend Dan is coming too for an ice cream and bitching night. I might stay over to be able to use her shower haha and also because it’s quite far away and the buses stop at 11. Tomorrow Dan and I are doing a free Queer Tour of Dublin which will be really cool, and I have to sort out laundry and stuff like that too. But then it’ll be Monday and real life will slap me in the face all over again.