#He might be a goofy bum every now and then but i hope he recovers better | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bohnsky · 9 months

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You guys. I might just be the happiest person alive right now. When I started getting into F1 a few months I decided for whatever reason (the reason being Charles Leclerc) to support Ferrari. I quickly learned that being a Ferrari fan came with lots of downs and very few highs, but today I learned that the highs can be so high that you want to die on the spot because there is no way life could get any better.

You can guess how I feel about Carlos winning today. In Monza I got a Chestappen podium, now I got a Carlando podium. What’s next? Strollonso? Sewis? (thinking about it, Seb’s going to be in Suzuka, maybe we’ll actually get Sewis content, not a podium tho)

Also I didn’t expect to see Eric Nam at F1. Never in my life would I have expected to watch Eric Nam shake Carlos Sainz’ hand. Like wtf?

And that last grill the grid episode killed me. As someone who is interested in geography I can say that some of their answeres were catastrophic. It was hard to watch at some points. (Like wtf do you mean you have to find Europe first?)

So here are my favorite drivers four months and a week into liking f1. This time I decided to do a top five because my top three haven’t changed in ages:

1. Alex Albon

I love him, his voice, his face, his goofy laugh, his personality, (his girlfriend ahem), his driving, his everything. Please marry me. The marketing short film with the Albon pets, I mean come on. Alex and cats is everything I need in my life. And the other drivers with his shoes, that’s so cute.

The weekend was not optimal for Williams, but tbh I didn’t really pay much attention to them because I was a little distracted by Ferrari and Red Bull.

2. Sergio Perez

Okay hear me out. I love Checo and I feel bad for what I’m about to say but I was so happy that Red Bull had a bad weekend. I like Max and I love Checo but it felt so good to see someone else win for a change. Although I would’ve loved to see Checo in front, because I always do.

3. Charles Leclerc

My little Ferrari heart was so happy this weekend. And I think that Charles should have pitted for mediums in the end there and maybe we would’ve gotten both Ferraris on the podium. Charles did some incredible defending and keeping the Mercs behind him to help Carlos. Afterwards he seemed a little bummed out, but happy enough for the team and Carlos.

Also he’s just the cutest on grill the grid, always looks so confused. And his laugh, I can’t with him.

4. Lewis Hamilton

This is probably no surprise to anyone, because I keep debating if I should put him or Charles on third and Charles always wins. Lewis is great and he deserves the podium. Although I do think that George should have gotten it.

Also I just found out that he has an Extreme X team. With Christina Gutierrez. How cool is that please? (Not as cool as Carlos Sr. with Laia Sanz my love my one and only, but still)

5. Carlos Sainz

So this is where it gets intresting, because I had Lando and Lance on my list for fifth as well, but lately I have become somewhat obsessed with Carlos. I’ve always liked him, but now I love him. He has become one of my favorite drivers (otherwise he wouldn’t be fifth lol). He is funny, smart, seems like a very nice guy and doesn’t take himself too seriously and I love that. I guess you can imagine how I went feral several times this weekend. The fact that he kept Lando close enough so he’d be in his DRS zone. I mean sure it was strategy, but still. I like to believe that he did it solely to help his Lando.

Honerable mentions:

Lando. Of course, what a great race and I can’t with all of this Carlando content. They deserve the world. But damn just let Lando stay home when you do geography with grill the grid. It hurts us all, not only him.

Lance. I really don’t know what it is about him. He took my heart. Every time I see him, I just want to squeeze him. I was super happy about all the Lance content we got from grill the grid, but then quail happened. I just hope he is okay and recovers quickly. That crash was insane, but luckily security got better over time.

Fernando. First it was all fun and games with Strollonso and all, but I’ve somehow started to actually get attached. He makes me happy, or in this case sad, because the race sucked for him. Not a good weekend for AM. Also Fernando with Alex' shoes. Loved it.

Max. I feel bad for him. I am happy that the Red Bull reign is over (for now) but he deserves a good car, because he’s just such a good driver. Also he really impressed me in grill the grid.

George. I shouldn’t be mad at him for being good, but I am. But at the same time I’m happy for him. He’s a great driver and damn what a race today, he really should have stood on that podium. But he ruined a Ferrari front row by being good so I am allowed to be mad.

Esteban. First of all, happy birthday my man. The race sucked again, but at least this time there was some coverage of him and we didn’t have to assume that he got abducted by aliens. And again, I love his accent way too much.

Liam. I had the time of my life watching his quail. I might have celebrated a little too much when he kicked Max out, but oh well. And he got his first points, which is great for him. I hope he gets a permanent seat soon.

Daniel. I had to include him just so I can mention Taylor Swift. My man singing Our Song was the best thing ever.

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #singapore gp 2023 #alex albon #sergio perez #charles lecrelc #lewis hamilton #carlos sainz junior #lando norris #carlando #lance stroll #fernando alonso #max verstappen #george russell #esteban ocon #liam lawson #daniel ricciardo

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chickenscript · 3 years

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Could you write a scenario for each of the turtles where they sneak into to a hospital through the window and visit the reader who is staying the night after they broke their arm?

A/N: i feel like i could've wrote this funnier but hope you enjoy!

Least to say, you weren't expecting any visitors when you ended up bedridden in the hospital.

Well, it wasn't all that serious really. You got a bone fracture in your arm after a little skateboarding incident but, the doctors wanted to keep you overnight for observation and to help ease you through those first hours of sheer pain.

Back on topic though- you wondered why you didn't think that you wouldn't see any familiar faces pop by during your stay considering the company you kept.

And by that you meant they would 100% be the type to break into a hospital just to visit you.

Leo: - You honestly thought he would've tried to sneak in dressed as a nurse knowing Leo and his ideas.

- But no, this time around he had snuck in through your window and did so, so stealthily that he nearly gave you a heart attack when he cropped up right next to your face sudden.

- Thankfully you realized it was him before you could let out a scream that would've alerted a nurse or doctor.

- You laughed the fright off and he took a seat on your bed next to you.

- He started off idle chatter about how you were feeling and the specifics of how you ended up here, and you enjoyed the company as much as you knew he should've waited until you left tomorrow for his own sake.

- You couldn't not appreciate that he had come to check on you.

- You're not sure that you had known anyone before the turtles that would've found a way into your hospital room after visiting hours to make sure you were absolutely okay themselves.

- You made sure to let Leo know that too.

- He smiled sheepishly and ruffled your hair; he'd break into a hospital any day for you. You were one of his best friends after all. (Of which the turtles only had you and April).

- The sentiment made you snort and you smiled back at your goofy friend with a giggely thank you.

- You wouldn't have it any other way.

- Regardless, you had to admit that he probably should've left for the lair before the morning rolled in instead of staying so long into the night getting caught up in nighttime conversation with you that he wound up passing out like you did.

- He had to narrowly avoid being caught by the staff and you tried not to bust out laughing at his "timely escape".

- Which was Leo having to scramble out off the bottom of your bed where he'd sprawled out on so he could launch himself out the window when the nurse came to tell you that you were ready to be discharged.

- The sound of a yowling cat as he landed in the dumpster outside didn't help your case either.

Donnie:

- You...you weren't expecting the impromptu doctor costume.

- Or for him to immediately start out his sudden visit by prodding at your cast the second he was done clambering through your room window.

- Donnie insisted he just wanted to check on the sturdiness of it, but you still had to swat him away so he wouldn't fuss over it.

- With a sigh, you let your arm fall back across your stomach. You didn't have to ask to know why he was here because you had a good guess already.

- You invited the turtle to sit on your hospital bed and after hesitating for a moment, he plopped down.

- He cleared his throat and asked you how you were feeling.

- You smiled and told him that they were giving you plenty of painkillers, Dr. Dee. It wasn't a gnarly break, so you were lucky in that regard and didn't need any heavy duty treatment.

- Donnie nodded with closed eyes and folded arms.

- He told you everyone was worried about you and you poked his bicep, telling him to tell them that you definitely weren't dying or anything.

- Donnie looked down at you and poked you in the nose, telling you that a broken arm still wasn't anything to laugh about.

- You wriggled your nose with a puff. You knew that but you also knew that you would be able to recover just fine.

- Even though Donnie didn't show it like his brothers would've, you knew he had come all this way to make sure you were getting treated properly. (Even though you certainly were).

- After his fussing, you and Donnie played a few rounds of Mario Kart on his switch while chatting. You were sure he was going easy on you because of your arm but you didn't say anything about it because well, who could ever complain about winning?

- When you wrapped up, you let him sign his name in an almost obnoxious purple that glinted neon in the dark on your cast and he told you not to break anything else.

- You laughed and replied that you didn't plan on it.

- The answer seemed to be good enough for him as he left and after the nurse came to turn out your lights for you, you laid back in your bed and stared for a long while at the glow in the dark signature on your bum arm before falling asleep.

Mikey:

- You had to shush him the moment he launched onto your hospital bed.

- He was immediately poking and prodding at you, and asking about whether or not your arm still hurt.

- You laughed softly and shook your head. You reassured him you were doing much better compared to earlier.

- Mikey was happy to hear about that, settling down a bit and sitting down.

- He asked if he could touch your cast and you gave a nod.

- He touched it very gently, wrinkling his snout at the coarse feeling texture of it under his fingertips.

- Then he looked up at your face and asked the question you knew he was probably waiting to since he got there.

- You gave another soft laugh and said yes, he could sign your cast.

- With a wide smile he whipped out some markers he was carrying with him and got work scribbling on your cast.

- You quickly got the feeling that his "signature" was going to be much more elaborate than just that.

- And you weren't wrong as he spent the better part of an hour, chatting with you as he drew.

- Truthfully, you hadn't been able to get to bed at all before Mikey dropped by and having him here was nicer than tossing and turning, waiting to fall asleep.

- Eventually, he's done and you're amazed by the graffiti style doodle now on the corner of your cast.

- Mikey beamed at the look on your face and asked you what you thought. To which you were quick to say it looked amazing.

- You ended up having a chat about art and you two did some doodling in one of your notebooks before he had to go back to the lair so you could call it a night.

- He wished you a goodnight and you promised to be over the next day to spend some time with your favorite turtles, and when you let your head rest on your pillow, sleep found you much easier than you thought it would before Mikey got there.

Raph:

- You were surprised a herd of staff didn't rush to your room as he had to all but force himself through the window and knocked over an IV pole and those little carts that held nurse supplies.

- Of course, a sweet little nurse did pop in to see if you were alright and you told her that a strong breeze must have done it all.

- She bought the story and Raph, who had ducked under your bed and raised it a good foot or two higher, crawled out.

- He asked you how you were doing and whatnot, and you waved off his worries.

- Still, he didn't seem very sated by the look on his face.

- You reached out with your good arm and gave him a pat on his. - In truth, Raph felt bad that he nor his brothers could've been there to prevent your injury; as stupid as that might sound.

- And he seemed to think you would laugh at him as he admitted that to you.

- You didn't think it sounded stupid in the slightest though. A lot of people feel that way when it comes to people they care about, you reassured him.

- You felt the same every time the turtles had altercations with the villainy lurking in New York.

- That seemed to work and you were glad to shake some worry off of Raph's big ole shoulders. He had enough of that while trying to lead the gaggle of turtle brothers.

- You patted the side of your bed and almost regretted the gesture when it groaned in agony at Raph's mass.

- You tried to laugh it off, hoping internally that the bed would turn out okay. You were just happy that it was holding up for now. But, you were surprised that Raph didn't notice the potential problem.

- You two spent a while just idly chatting and Raph recanted the brothers' recent encounter with some villains last night. You eagerly listened and enthused about it alongside the behemoth of a snapping turtle whose giddiness about things always reminded you he was truly a softie.

- After some hours, he got around to leaving once he signed your cast in big, blunt red letters and the hang out session made you feel like you really did have friends looking out for your more than you realized before.

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #rottmnt x reader #reader insert #fanfic #mywriting #headcannons #anon

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coolkat122 · 3 years

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Twisted Teeth: Vampire Gaara x Reader Chapter 1 Part 2

"What is it?"

"I need to be getting home before my family begins to worry" I started packing up all of Jiraiya's things that I borrowed and placed them back where I had found them (probably), and begin making my way toward the door.

"I'll be back sometime soon to check up on you!" I rushed out the door, heading for my wagon, full speed ahead on home.

~~~

When I got back no one was the wiser as to what happened and that I was even out so late, they all assumed that I did the smart thing and found a safe place to rest for the night.

My mother and father were so relieved that I was alright and questioned me relentlessly on how the mist villagers treated me, I laughed it off as best I could and assured them that there wasn't any need for concern.

Other than the obvious caution I needed to have around that man everything was more or less fine, the trade went well, I never came upon any bandits or beast along the way (you know other than the vampire but I left that out).

They became calm and my father exclaimed that this would be the last time he would ever be sick again so that I wouldn't need to do dealings like this for the rest of my life ever again.

I felt kinda bummed about it cause it was kind of fun but I wasn't too stressed out over it for the previously mentioned reasons, that I am not a traveling type, I prefer to do business in the comforts of my own village, so I just smiled and humored my father while my brother bombed me with questions like.

"What was it like? Did you see anything "weird", was it really bloody like their second title suggests? Did you meet Zabuza" I answered my brother's questions though my responses weren't as interesting as he had hoped.

"Misty, define "weird" and no and thank the heavens no" His shoulders drooped and his head hanged a bit low as he ew'd himself away to go finish his chores.

I held a small smile on my face, happy to see his cheerful little face again though a little sad that I couldn't provide him with the exciting tales he wanted (not really because that would be I saw messed up stuff that I am much better off without).

"I'm going to go rest a bit then I'll be ready to help with the shop," I told my parents who encouraged me to take the day off instead.

"Aw, but Dad never takes the day off when he gets back..." I whined but they were harder to move than a boulder on this so I let it go.

I sighed with defeat as I went to my room to get undressed and take a quick nap.

~~~~

After such a fulfilling nap, I then deiced to take a walk around the village and hopefully meet up with some friends... and perhaps Naruto.

My face flushed at the thought of seeing my long time crush, I started to wonder if maybe I should have dressed a bit up but then realized it has only really been like a day since he last saw me, there wasn't really any need to make it into something fancy.

"Hey, (Y/n)!" I stopped in my tracks, happily turning to face that loud booming voice in the source of its origins, as my goofy blond friend came jogging up toward me.

"You're finally awake!" He said with a cheerful smile, that was just beaming with those shiny pearls of his, I shot back one of my own as I replied back.

"Yeah, wait you know that I was napping? When did you find out I was back?" His smile became more mischievous as he looped me in for a side hug before placing his arm around my shoulders.

"Come on you know how your brother talks, I found out you were back within like three minutes? Upon your return though when I got to your place you were already resting so I had to wait to welcome you back" Naruto happily responded still keeping his body close to mine.

If I had known he was going to visit me so soon, I would have stayed up a bit longer, darn it all! I did my best as to not blush like a fool after hearing his response but it wasn't easy given how sweet I found it to be.

"You know I wouldn't have minded you waking me up, honestly I feel like maybe I napped for too long, I wasted half of a day when there's still so much I would have liked to have done on my day off" Naruto's smile brightens.

"It's your day off?" I nodded before answering verbally.

"Yeah, but I wanted to return to work as soon as I finished resting, though the folks had other plans" moving his arms off of my shoulder and instead deciding to take my hand into his, Naruto beamed.

"Then you should come to Ramen Ichiraku* with me" I was still hungry from the trip and hadn't grabbed a bite to eat yet in hopes of meeting Naruto there at the shop, so I was happy to see how well this worked out for me.

"I would be delighted to join you" His eyes became a brighter shade of blue as he proceeded to guide me to Ichiraku with our hands still linked together.

Teuchi the ramen shop owner and his daughter greeted us happily and didn't fail to mention that they were happy to see me back so safe and sound, before taking our orders.

While we waited Naruto struck up a bit of a conversation with me regarding my trip.

"So how was your trip to The Mist Village? You didn't run into any trouble did you?" Worry was shining in those blue eyes of his as he stared at me waiting to be reassured that everything went smoothly.

"No, thank God, my trip was decently pleasant, nothing really concerning happened during the trip there and back, everything was handled about as well as one can hope in business" Naruto nodded, thankful to hear that my trip was a safe one.

"You know... I would have gone with you if you had told me you were heading to the Mist village"

"In fact, he almost went anyway when he heard from your brother that your father got sick so you were takin care of business in his stead" Ayame (Teuchi's daughter) teasingly joined in on the conversation as she placed down our orders.

Naruto's face became bright red as he shot off excuses for why he was planning to follow after me on my business trip while I could only smile and stare at how cute I thought he looked and how touched I was that he cared so much.

"As much as I would have loved some company on my little trip, I'm glad you remained here, you already have enough on your hands as is with working hard to be Hokage, you know" Naruto shook his head as he gazed at me seriously.

"All of that can wait! I've been to the Mist Village before and though it's calmed down some, it's still got a lot of ways to go before it's visitor-friendly" My heart couldn't help but leap and bounce upon seeing how concern and worked up Naruto was over me.

It was all so sweet and very touching that I couldn't help but feel joy, however strange that might sound, my face became red and I took his hand in mine and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, though I really wasn't sure if that was smart.

"Thank you for your concern, now that I know this, next time I would be more than happy to have you come with me" Naruto's face was redder than mine once it dawned on him that I had kissed his cheek.

"A-alright, good...l-lets eat before our food gets cold" I nodded and happily ate my food beside Naruto though sadly once I was done, I had to go.

I had just remembered that I was supposed to pay the vampire a visit, having enjoyed Naruto's company so much I had forgotten all about the vampire for a while.

"Are you sure you can't spend any more time out with me?" His blue eyes gazed at me like a sad puppy but I had to remain strong.

"Yes, I am... Though I'm off work for the day there are still some chores that need to be done, I'm sorry" Naruto shook his head with a small smile sadly playing upon his lips.

"No, it's alright, we'll just hang out some more later, see ya till then" Naruto waved, walking off to do whatever he had planned I suppose.

While I had the pleasure of trying to find something I think of what to do with my vampire "friend", it was a little too late for hunting and I didn't quite like the idea of giving him my own, so I was at a lost on what to do, but.

I still went to visit him as promised just empty-handed since no one had fresh enough caught meat with blood in it at this time.

~~~

"I'm so sorry that I don't have anything for you to eat, I overslept once I got back..." The vampire was still so unreadable that it worried me as to what he might be thinking.

"...it's alright, I'm not so hungry that I will go berserk but I will need to feast some time soon" I nodded, feeling super thankful that he was so calm and understanding while making sure to take note on his warning.

"I promise I'll have something for you tomorrow" Sea-green orbs were locked onto me as the person they were attached to maintained his signature blank expression.

Not going to lie, I wasn't a fan of his unreadable expressions, it made it hard for me to feel comfortable around him, I wish that his eyes would give away his thoughts and feelings like the day earlier today.

"Well... time to change those bandages" I tried to say as cheerfully and upbeat as possible, so that I could appear unfazed by him but... I was not successful.

I went to where I remember placing everything as I felt the vampire's eyes following my every movement... kinda creepy but I suppose understandable enough as to why they were on me, with not much else for him to be doing.

"Some of this might sting, so sorry in advance" I applied the ointments and carefully treated his wounds that were not as healed as I was hoping, I was told that vampires healed at alarming speeds that greatly surpassed humans, I wonder when exactly was that going to kick in?

"May I ask as to why do you even care so much as to dress and bandage my wounds? Surely you must feel that you've done enough, so why go through all of this unnecessary trouble?" This again? I pretty much answered this question of his earlier didn't I?

"I haven't completed my job until I feel that you are healthy enough to take care of yourself"

"...but you don't need to, what's in it for you for when I recover? Are you hoping that I'll reward you with eternal life? I can do that right now if you wish, it would save us the trouble, I'd been fully recovered and you'd have what you were after" I didn't mean to frown and scoff the way I did upon his offer as I did.

I didn't want to possibly offend him with such a reaction, but unfortunately, my body speaks quicker than I think, "I don't want your eternal life, something like that doesn't interest me in the slightest, I just want to help, that's it though I'm sorry, that doesn't include drinking my blood if that's what you need to heal, I'll gladly hunt a rabbit or something in the likes for you tomorrow as promised"

"Why? I'm afraid I don't understand as to why would you just help me with no desire for a reward" I frowned concerningly as I tried to remain understanding of his confusion.

"Because helping someone in itself is it's own reward... so long as that someone doesn't try to harm you or anyone else afterward" I shot him a hopeful look as I strongly hinted at him possibly becoming a good vampire and leaving humans alone.

Though as expected he went silent and his face was as unreadable as ever... could he please see that I'm uncomfortable with not knowing what's going on in that brain of his, please, and toss me a bone?

"Is that what you wish?" My eyes widen at this question as I thought over my response carefully.

To be continued ➡️

#Vampire Gaara #gaara of the sand #naruto #au #reader insert #vampire AU

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heyyyharry · 5 years

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Chapter 11: Needy

(from the Flatmate Trilogy: Two Hearts, One Home)

…in which Y/N hates herself for being so needy.

Warning: Smut.

Word count: 5k

Chapter 10: Darlings - Harry is excited but Y/N is worried.

Wattpad link

Song in this chapter: Only Us from the Broadway musical Dear Evan Hansen

Y/N didn't plan on telling her colleagues about her pregnancy, not so soon at least. One time this lady from the IT department got pregnant and people started paying excessive attention to her. Y/N supposed some women would enjoy that, but she hated it. Jack had always had a soft spot for her, so if he found out this early, he would be the first one to treat her differently. She'd had enough drama in the past month and was not interested in more stupid rumors about her nonexistent affair.

But this morning, when she arrived at the office, everyone said hello to her, even those she'd never exchanged a word with before. These people were never friendly unless they wanted something from each other. So what if they'd found out about the baby?

No, you're just overthinking again, said the voice inside her head as she strode to her desk. But right before she could open her laptop, Jack leaned over the door of his office, looking serious as he called her, "Mrs. Styles" and then pointed his thumb over his shoulder to tell her to come in.

She bit her lip, her eyes went round and her brain stuttered for almost a second until his door opened again.

"Why are you still sitting there, Y/N?"

Shit, he called her by her first name...in front of everyone. Before he could do it again, she stood up at once and obediently stalked to his office while the voice inside her head was praying, please don't congratulate me on the baby!

Jack was holding the door open for her, but her eyes avoided his as she entered the room. She could feel him smiling when he asked her to sit down next to Kate. And the beam Kate was wearing told Y/N that they both knew her little secret.

"What am I here for?" she asked, finally looking at Jack.

Giving her an indifferent shrug, he said, "I want to show you the new proposal."

"Oh, thank God."

Her mouth snapped shut but it was already too late. Jack had heard it loud and clear so he raised an eyebrow. "By the way," he said. "Congratulations on the baby."

"Kate!"

"What?!" Kate huffed, her eyes widened. "I didn't tell him!"

"Livy did," Jack quickly clarified. "Kate just happened to be here when Livy told me."

Y/N should've seen it coming. Olivia was Harry's friend, and knowing her husband, Y/N believed he would've told the whole world about him becoming a dad if given a chance.

Kate seemed nervous when she caught Y/N's leer, so she blurted out, "please don't hate me but I already told Marissa."

"In a meeting," Jack corrected, hands in his pockets as he gave Y/N a shrug. "She was telling Marissa but the whole content department was there."

"Great..." Y/N groaned, tossing her head back. Maybe she would've murdered Kate if their boss hadn't been there, but on second thought, Kate's excessive excitement had made it impossible for Y/N to stay mad. While Jack calmly returned to his seat, his assistant was bouncing with elation when Y/N sat down next to her.

"Gosh, I'm so happy for you, my heart might burst! Babies are miracles!"

"Here she goes again," Jack mumbled, but Kate ignored him to ramble on about how she had three little nieces and had always found joy in spending time with them.

Unexpectedly, her smile disappeared. "I just hope you won't suffer from postpartum depression."

"Okay, ladies, I think—"

"What's postpartum depression?" Y/N asked despite Jack's attempt to change the topic.

Kate pursed her lips as she went on, "well, my sister became depressed after giving birth because the baby took all her husband's love and attention away from her."

"That's not true," Jack argued, turning to Y/N. "Don't listen to her. She knows nothing about postpartum depression."

"I've never even heard of it," Y/N muttered and shifted her bulging eyes between her boss and his assistant.

Jack exhaled as he began, "so after childbirth, the levels of estrogen and progesterone in a woman's body quickly drop. This leads to chemical changes in her brain that may trigger mood swings. In addition, many mothers are unable to get the rest they need to fully recover from giving birth. Constant sleep deprivation can lead to physical discomfort and exhaustion, which can contribute to the symptoms of postpartum depression. It doesn't necessarily have anything to do with the lack of attention and affection from her husband."

"Wow..." Kate's mouth fell open as Y/N became paralyzed.

Their reactions made the man flustered so he had to explain, "I...uhm...did some research when my sister was pregnant with her first child."

Kate broke into a cheeky grin. "Or...you did the research after finding out Y/N was pregnant," she teased, but immediately shut up when Jack glowered at her.

Y/N took the awkward silence as a sign to change the subject, "so...the report?"

Harry had been coming home early every day since he found out his wife was pregnant. It started out as a conscious decision to gain back her trust and prove that he could be twice the father and husband his father would ever be. But then it became a habit, and he would get irritated if he stayed at the office later than the time limit he'd set for himself. This change had made his wife very happy. And people weren't kidding when they said 'happy wife, happy life'.

Tonight, he came home and found Y/N lying in their bed with Treasure by her side. She was reading something on her phone and didn't hear him come in. It was only until Treasure noticed him and purred loudly that she shot her head to the door and her eyes lit up like a child on Christmas morning.

"Baby, you're home!"

"Aww, did my favorite girl miss me?"

"Very much!"

He furrowed his brows, acting confused. "I was talking to Treasure though. You missed me too?"

Laughing, she tossed a pillow at him but he dodged it successfully and bounced onto their bed to give her a sloppy and playful kiss. He expected her to shove him away and tell him to shower first. But today, she didn't just let him cuddle her with dirty clothes on, but also seemed to be into it...maybe a little too much. To his surprise, she held his face and kissed him back with enthusiasm. It wasn't just a sweet innocent 'I missed you' kiss, but rather a shameless open-mouthed kiss that sent his body into lockdown. She clung onto the back of his neck, gently nibbling on his bottom lip and moaning into his mouth as he dug his fingers into her thighs. He loved that, he loved that a lot, and he had a big and hard-to-ignore problem in his pants to prove how much he loved that. But then he remembered something and his eyes shot open right when she reached for his belt buckle. He pulled away, both of them gasping for air.

"It's my turn to make dinner!" he exclaimed, making her chortle.

It was a deal they'd made two nights ago. She'd been teaching him to cook (he'd insisted on learning because he wanted to take care of her during her pregnancy), and so they'd agreed to take turns making dinner every night. Tonight would be the first time he'd got to show her the skills he'd learned. He seemed excited, and so was she. But right now she was more excited for something else. Dinner could wait.

"Hey!" She grabbed him by the arm as he attempted to roll out of bed. "Me first. Dinner second."

Intrigued by the offer, he flashed her a goofy grin. "But I'll take forever in the kitchen, babe."

"I don't mind waiting...Except..." Y/N left her sentence unfinished as she got up on her knees and shifted closer to him. Actions always spoke louder than words.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, legs spread like a king on his throne, he gripped her bum as she straddled his waist and patiently loosened his tie. His pupils flared, his lips parted to release short tiny gasps. He couldn't decide where he wanted his eyes to be, on her face, her mouth-watering cleavage, or the movements of her hands unbuttoning his shirt. It was a lot to take in, and she smelt so goddamn good. He should either stop this or take her before he made an embarrassing mess in his pants.

"I'm dirty," he said, grinning at the accidental joke as she pecked the tattoos on his chest. "Or...do you prefer me dirty?"

"Your smell is intoxicating. I love it," she said with a hand behind his head and one on his hip to grind down on him. A harsh groan escaped from his throat as he dropped his forehead on her shoulder and then pulled away against his own will.

"Treasure's watching us," he cautioned and looked over his shoulder at the cat who was silently judging them. "M-maybe I should shower first—"

"No." Y/N pouted like a child as she cupped his cheek and motioned his eyes back on her. "Just take her to the living room. And no shower. I love how you smell."

Harry nearly choked when he heard that. It wasn't at all dirty compared to the things he would normally say, but she wasn't usually like this. This naughty and confident side of her never failed to turn him on. He wanted her more than she might already know.

"Is my wife soaked for me?" Harry whispered as his right hand made its way under her nightgown to check it for himself. "Jesus Christ, you're dripping, love. Is this all for me?"

She nodded weakly, her fingertips dug into his biceps as her body tensed. Harry loved how she always reacted to him. But before he could make a comment, she went on, almost out of breath, "you'll need a shower after fucking me anyway."

"Oh, fuck..." His throat was as tight as his crotch but she didn't show him any mercy.

She leaned in again, her lips ghosting over his. "Our water bill was pretty high last month, might as well save money for our child."

"Fuck, okay..." He couldn't argue with that logic, at least his erection wouldn't let him. Without pause, he moved her off him and clapped his hands to get the cat's attention. "Treasure, you need to go!"

Y/N stepped aside, cackling when their cat growled and fought Harry with her tiny paws for taking her away from her favorite spot. He rarely got along with Treasure, but Y/N knew Treasure loved him, because she would always wait at the door for him to come home every night and refuse to sleep before she saw his face. Y/N could already imagine their baby boy or girl doing the same thing.

When Harry returned from the living room, he was confused by her silly grin, but at the same time, he thought it was adorable.

"What?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"Nothing," she replied and wasted no time to pull down the straps and let her nightgown turn into a pool around her feet. "Just taking in the sight of my sexy husband."

Harry gulped and wet his dry lips, his eyes went dark, admiring her naked form. In a heartbeat, he closed the distance between them, reattaching their mouths as their bodies collided with the soft mattress. It took her less than a second to unbuckle his belt and pulled down his pants.

"Haven't fucked you in two days. My balls are probably purple now," he whispered against her mouth while kicking off his pants and boxers. Her laughter turned into cries when he thrust in without warning. Panting, he stayed still and asked if he'd hurt her. Her answer was her taking a fistful of his hair and bucking her hips for him to move. He knew her body too well to need instruction at this point. Placing one arm under her knee, he lifted her leg and pushed his cock all the way in, only to pull out almost completely and slammed in again.

This wasn't what he'd expected when she implied that she was horny. He had been nothing but tender to her since he found out she was carrying his child. But right now it felt like they were both possessed. He was fucking her so hard she was screaming his name, and her nails would definitely leave marks on his back, but the pain only intensified the pleasure.

Four orgasms later, three for her and one for him, they both collapsed on the bed, just panting and unable to move. Their clothes and pillows were scattered on the floor. Y/N hated how she'd just changed the sheets this morning but now her husband's cum was all over it. The laundry was the worst part of cleaning, but she'd worry about that later.

With her head on his chest, she looked up, peering at his fucked out face. And then she smiled, biting her lip. "I just really love you," she said before he could wonder.

"I really fucking love you too." The dimples on his cheeks became prominent as the corners of his eyes crinkled. His next question came casually, "how was your day?"

"It was great I guess." She pursed her lips, thinking for a second. "Except for when I found out Olivia had told Jack and Kate about our baby, and Kate had told everyone else."

"What's so bad about it?" He laughed as her face contorted.

"Nothing." She blew up her cheeks. "I just don't want to be the center of attention. That's all."

"Said the narcissist who shouted 'my house, my rules' every time we fought."

With a fake gasp, she playfully smacked his chest. "Be glad that I only want your attention!"

He nodded smugly. "How did Jack react?"

"Seriously, H?"

"What? I'm just curious." He shrugged, grinning like an asshole. And now Y/N couldn't decide if she wanted to slap that grin off his face or beg him to stuff her full with his cock again. Her cheeks flushed at the word even though she would never say it aloud (unless he asked her too). What was wrong with her? The fact that she was highly aware of how messed up that thought was and not feeling guilty about it was awfully concerning.

"Baby," Harry's voice pulled her back to reality. "You were blushing when I mentioned his name!"

"Was not!"

"Were too!"

No, I was blushing because I've become a sex addict, said the voice inside her head, but of course, she wasn't about to tell him that.

"He was nice about it," she answered briefly and then distracted him by drawing circles around his nipple with her finger.

"Does that tickle you?" She bit back a smirk as he shoved her hand away, laughing.

"Yeah, all my four nipples are extremely ticklish. I'm offended you didn't already know."

"Weird." She snorted. "You're so weird."

"Took you that many years and a baby to realize that?" he jokingly asked and she just had to shut him up with another kiss.

"We're so sticky..." He nudged her nose with his. "Get up. I'll carry you to the shower."

"Good husband." She tapped his head like a puppy as he got out of bed and scooped his arms under her knees to pick her up effortlessly. Arms around his neck, she stuck out her bottom lip. "Soon you won't be able to pick me up again. I'll be too fat."

"You'll never be too fat because I'll gain weight so I can carry you," he said with a straight face and she burst out laughing. Seating her down on the side of the tub, he flashed her a reassuring smile. "I'll carry you, the baby, and Treasure on one arm."

"My big strong man," she sighed at the silly promise and pressed a kiss to his sweet dimple.

"Bitch, I'm going to smash your laptop."

Y/N instantly pushed Layla away as she turned to the side so her back was facing her friend. "I'm just doing research."

"Research my ass. You have like sixty-nine tabs open and they're all articles about postpartum depression!" Layla turned to her fiancé, who had been on his phone since he arrived. "Niall?"

"You're absolutely right, wifey," he said without looking up, but that answer alone was good enough for Layla.

"See?" She turned back to Y/N. "Niall agreed."

"You guys don't see the problem here," Y/N grumbled, making Layla lift an eyebrow.

"Which is?"

"I...I want him more these days," Y/N said after a moment, her cheeks were red and she couldn't even look at her best friend in the eye. "It's like...I cannot get enough of him. I nearly cried when he left our bed this morning."

"You want your husband's dick all the time. How's that a problem again?"

"Wha—Layla! Niall is here!" Y/N exclaimed but Layla seemed unbothered by the reaction.

"Niall is just an Irish Harry, he doesn't mind."

"On the contrary," Niall smiled as he turned off his phone and rested his chin on his knuckles. "I'm all ears."

"See?" Layla gave her flustered friend a shrug. "Men. They stay seventeen forever."

The silence became awkward when both sides realized they were both waiting for each other to continue with this already awkward topic. So Y/N thought she should go on. "I just want him more than I should and he's spoiling me because I'm pregnant."

"I wish Layla would want me that much." Niall snorted as he tapped Layla's shoulder and joked, "let's get you pregnant."

"If I got pregnant, who would wear my $2000 custom made wedding dress? You or Harry?" She rolled her eyes and turned back to her pregnant friend. "Go on, Y/N."

"I think..." Y/N swallowed as she went on. "If he pays more attention to our baby when it arrives then I'll get depressed for sure."

"Oh shut up, that idiot would choose you over the baby anytime."

"That's not the point though. I don't want to make him choose."

"Well, I don't want you to be paranoid. So turn your laptop off and we'll braid Niall's hair for fun."

"You're braiding Niall's hair? Can I join?" Harry's voice made them all turn their heads. All three were frozen, but Harry didn't seem to suspect a thing as he shut the door and strode to where his wife sat on the couch.

"Daddy's home," he said against her lips, making Layla and Niall cringe at the same time.

"What?" He turned back to look at them funny. "I am going to be a real daddy though. I'm allowed to say that."

"You're such a weird couple," Layla and Niall said at the same time as they made the same disgust face, but not at all surprised by the coincidence.

Harry scoffed as he turned to his wife. "We are the weird couple, huh?"

Y/N could only laugh when Layla chucked the pillow on her lap at him.

The weekend came and went in a blink of an eye, and soon it was Monday again. Y/N hated Mondays. It always felt like the longest day in the week, probably because she had to readapt to the long hours in the office after a lazy Sunday at home.

But this Monday had been the worst. She'd had a fight with a colleague, her plans didn't go her way, she'd also missed the last bus and didn't want to bother Harry so she'd walked all the way home. What was worse than these unfortunate events was her missing him constantly, every second and minute. She had almost come to his office during lunch break, but then remembered him mentioning a lunch date with a client. So she ended up pacing back and forth in her office only to put down her phone and use work to distract herself. On the way home, she'd thought about the past week, how she'd been torturing him with the long cuddles and her crazy sex need. She needed to control herself or she'd suffocate him.

She hadn't felt this way since the first days of their relationship. She had wanted him all the time, but hated herself for it and ended up distancing herself from him. But she knew better now than to do something that stupid. So here she was, silently hating herself but asking him to please her anyway. Could this baby just come out now so she could go back to being normal?

"Hey, Ben, thanks for watching Treasure—"

Frantic, Y/N froze at the door, eyes widened as she thought she'd entered the wrong flat. The furniture had been rearranged to leave more space for a picnic blanket. There were candles on the floor, on the coffee table, and the glistening lights reminded her of Christmas' Eve. Christmas in the summer, the thought made her chuckle.

Harry walked out of the kitchen, wearing his pink apron and the biggest smile on his face. She meant to ask him where Ben and Treasure were and why he was home this early, but he spoke before she could even open her mouth, "Ben left after I'd come home."

"And Treasure?"

"Meow!"

"Baby!" Y/N almost shouted when she saw the cat on the cabinet with fairy lights wrapped around her neck. She rushed across the room to untangle the naughty little creature, meanwhile, her husband's eyes were wide with panic.

"What did I tell you about leaving her alone with these?"

"She could get electrocuted or strangled."

"She could get electrocuted or strangled!" Y/N exclaimed, hugging Treasure to her chest.

Harry threw on the best 'I'm sorry' as he apologized, and then told her to wait for him to bring their food out and make up for almost killing their cat. The menu was just fresh bread sandwiches, sausage rolls, and quiche. "Light and simple", he said as he sat down with her. "Not because I've tried cooking a fancy meal and failed miserably."

"Of course." She giggled and rewarded him a kiss on the cheek.

The couple went on with their romantic picnic dinner under the candlelight while sharing stories about their day. Every bad event that had happened to Y/N turned into a joke for them to laugh at and was no longer something for her to look back and feel annoyed. Moments like this made her think that the whole world could turn their backs on her, but as long as he was still around, she didn't need anybody else.

"Okay, now onto the second surprise!" he happily announced and got up on the floor. Perplexed, Y/N exchanged questioning looks with Treasure as her husband walked over to the guitar in the room's corner and brought it back to their picnic spot. Clearing his throat, he held the instrument on his lap and began with a few experimenting chords.

"Lady and cat," he spoke, trying to keep a straight face even though Y/N was already snickering. "My name is Harry and I'd like to perform a song on my guitar. This is from a Broadway musical that my first girlfriend made me see with her, just because she was so obsessed with the song and it reminded her of us. So here's Only Us from Dear Evan Hansen."

Strumming his guitar gently, he released a shaky breath and a nervous smile which reminded her that he'd never sung to anyone besides her. She'd always thought it was strange because his voice was so special. It was the odd but delightful combination of soft and deep, quiet and powerful. Soothing, in a way. They would always joke about him starting a band with Niall and she and Layla would be their groupies. But she knew he would never let out a single note when he was with someone other than her.

"I never thought there'd be someone like you who would want me, so I give you ten thousand reasons to not let me go," he sang, the candlelight flickering in his eyes. They'd gone to New York for the summer before graduation and she'd been the first in line to get those Broadway tickets for them. He'd told her he'd never been into musicals, but when she asked him to go see it again, he hadn't hesitated. Now looking back, she doubted he'd really enjoyed it, the first or even the second time. Maybe he had agreed to go see it twice just because of her. That didn't matter though. If anything, she'd love him even more.

"But if you really see me, if you like me for me and nothing else, well, that's all that I've wanted for longer that you could possibly know." Holding their eye contact, a corner of his mouth quirked up. "So it can be us. It can be us and only us. And what came before won't count anymore or matter. We can try that."

Y/N picked up Treasure's front legs and waved them in the air, causing Harry to snort and almost forget where to continue.

"It's not so impossible. Nobody else but the two of us here. 'Cause you're saying it's possible, we can just watch the whole world disappear. 'Til you're the only one I still know how to see." His strumming got quieter and his voice gentler. "It's just you and me. That's all that we need it to be. And the rest of the world falls away. It's only us."

"Thank you, thank you!" He laughed and blew kisses everywhere as his wife dissolved into laughter and their cat was only staring at them in confusion.

"I'm glad Treasure can't speak otherwise she'd call us insane," Y/N said as she rubbed the cat's head.

"If Treasure could speak, we'd have two Laylas."

Harry's joke made them fall about laughing. They'd been so lost in the moment that Y/N had completely forgotten to ask what the purpose of this indoor picnic was. As it turned out, she didn't have to. Once her husband had set the guitar aside, he sat with his legs opened and grabbed her forearm to move her closer. She scooted over, sitting with her back against his chest so he could kiss her ear, her neck, her cheek, and her mouth, and then rest his chin on her shoulder, hugging her waist. He let the silence take over for a second. That was how she knew something was coming for her.

"I know you've been secretly reading those online articles," he spoke at last.

"What online articles?" She pretended to be calm, but she knew he didn't buy it.

"The ones about postpartum depression," he breathed, squeezing her a bit. "Don't deny it, I saw one on your laptop screen when Layla and Niall were here last week."

Of course he had. He could've said something a week ago, but instead felt the need to plan this romantic picnic date to say it. Typical Harry. Her Harry.

Y/N rolled her eyes and exhaled sharply, but she thought there was no point in hiding. "You don't need to worry about me," she said with a soft grin.

"Are you sure?" His chest vibrated against her back as he chuckled. "I mean, you're already stressed out about what might happen after childbirth and you're not even showing yet. I know you tend to get anxious, that's why I want you to open up with me."

Y/N thought for a moment, allowing the silence to sink in so she could rearrange the words in her head before she spoke, "well, I just...I feel like I've been a pain in the ass lately, always begging for your love and attention and you never say no."

"Do you want me to say no?" he asked, raising his voice at the end teasingly, making her snort.

"Of course not."

"Then I don't see the problem."

"You're spoiling me because I'm pregnant. But I won't be pregnant forever. I'll get used to this and possibly become depressed when the baby arrives. You know, with all the hormones and all." She saw the way his eyes went round and let go of a short tired breath. "I'm sorry. Maybe I should go see a psychiatrist."

"This is just your anxiety talking, babe." He pressed his lips to her cheek and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "But it's okay, we'll work through this. Just so you know, you're not asking too much. I love it when you're like this. I want you voluntarily, definitely not only spoiling you because you're pregnant. Even when our actual baby is here, you're still my baby and I can't get enough of you, ever."

"Aww." Smiling, she turned her head to face him.

He rubbed her tummy and continued, "whenever you need something from me or you're afraid of something, you have to tell me right away, got it?"

"Don't regret when I show up at your office during working hours and ask to suck your dick."

Not expecting that response, Harry tossed his head back and laughed. "My pants would come off the second you step into the room."

A/N (important): this chapter was mainly written from Y/N's point of view. It's been implied throughout the series that she has an anxiety disorder which makes her overanalyze everything in her life. In this chapter, she had been misinformed about postpartum depression by Kate (Jack corrected her, but the mind of someone with an anxiety disorder would keep asking questions like "what if Kate is also right?", "what if being neglected is also one of the causes?") which led to her constantly worrying about what had yet to happen. This entire chapter was told from the perspective of someone who has an anxiety disorder and knows so little about postpartum depression, so this chapter is not a representation of postpartum depression nor its purpose is to educate on this mental illness. The only correct explanation of postpartum depression in the chapter was what Jack said at the beginning.

#flatmate!harry

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biofunmy · 5 years

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Against Nihilism

Kate Ferro for BuzzFeed News

After a big breakup earlier this year — I was the one who ended things — I gave myself a lot of room to grieve in whatever ways felt good at the time. Ordering takeout for both lunch and dinner? Sure. Downing IPAs while watching women’s soccer at 10 in the morning? No problem. Draining my savings on weird funky clothing and yet another pair of clogs? You bet!!!

According to the tenets of modern pop feminism, I’m entitled to a certain amount of overindulgence because, as a hardworking woman, I’ve earned it. Everything from institutional sexism to harassment to heartbreak can supposedly be assuaged by a couple bottles of wine with a group of good girlfriends. The treacly “Treat yo self” mantra popularized on Parks and Recreation has enabled many a stressed-out woman to place that $800 Anthropologie order (you can always return most of it, right?). Life is hard and the world is on fire; maybe we deserve to indulge in some good old simple pleasures.

So what if wine is a carcinogen and the alcohol industry has actively worked to downplay the link between drinking and cancer? So what if fast fashion is built on exploitative labor and contributes to mass global pollution? So what if the concept of self-care — popularized by Audre Lorde, a black lesbian activist battling breast cancer — has been co-opted to sell us things we don’t need, things which indirectly harm others and might actually harm us in the end? We’ve earned it, ladies!

I’d like to think I don’t actively buy into the capitalist vision of self-care, even as I’ve thrown my money into its maw; at least, I don’t assume any sort of entitlement to feeling good via the accumulation of material things. More so, I just thought…fuck it.

A few months ago, drunk in the middle of the day, I impulse-bought a Juul at a bodega in downtown Manhattan. I’d been taking hits off my friends’ vapes for months, only after I’d had enough to drink that smoking became pleasurable instead of disgusting. That was the rule I’d used for myself previously with cigarettes: I could never buy my own, but if I was drunk, I could bum one or two or five. Actually owning a Juul, as much as I liked to think the vapor or whatever made them safer than my beloved Marlboro Lights, was definitely breaking the rules. But I’d reached a point where I no longer cared.

While other people were having their hot girl summers, I spent mine flirting with a sense of doom I haven’t experienced since I was a hope-starved teen. (Nihilism: It’s back in style, just like denim miniskirts!). And I’m not alone. Twitter offers a daily glut of jokes about the apocalypse; things have gotten so bad we’re begging for vaping or an asteroid or alien overlords to finally put us out of our misery. The novelist Jonathan Franzen published a (much-maligned) essay this past weekend about climate change, arguing that the oncoming disaster is impossible to mitigate and “we” can no longer pretend otherwise. (“Every day, instead of thinking about breakfast,” he wrote, we all “have to think about death.”) Reading recently about presidential candidate Andrew Yang’s dystopian vision of the future, I found myself dismayed, and thoroughly dragged, by Max Read’s description of a “doomer,” the archetypal internet memer who believes we’re all totally fucked: “a depressed, purposeless 20-something usually depicted smoking a cigarette and wearing a beanie.”

Okay, I’m not a doomer, but I have become somewhat fatalistic lately. With talk of another recession and the continued possibility of dying in a mass shooting or some sort of natural disaster, the scarcity mindset I’d developed as the child of a parent living paycheck to paycheck kicked back in again. Thanks to a few greedy corporations and crisis-denying national governments, climate catastrophe seems inevitable — no matter what personal choices I make about things like food or travel or children.

So why bother saving for the future if there isn’t even going to be a future? Why bother being kind to my body by taking it easy on the beer and potato skins when all the crap I consume might not catch up with me by the time that not-future comes to pass? No matter how I treated myself — and no matter what infinitesimal steps I took to be a better human citizen — we’d all end up in the same place in the end.

For a while during my “fuck it” summer, it felt great to be a mess, if only because of its implicit rejection of corporatized self-care’s evil twin: self-optimization. Since diets have become passé, we’ve entered a new era defined by “wellness,” but women are still expected to meet Eurocentric and patriarchal beauty standards — only, unlike with dieting, we’re now supposed to feel good about attempting to contort ourselves into socially acceptable bodies.

Fuck other people’s narrow ideas about the only right ways to live a good and happy life.

“Wellness” conjures images of Gwyneth Paltrow peddling hundreds of dollars’ worth of Goop vitamins and oils and crystals and juices to customers who, because they are not wealthy celebrities, will never look like Gwyneth Paltrow. Organic vegetables and private Pilates instructors are the provinces of rich people who have the time and money to optimize their bodies as if it’s their job (because it is). Fuck wellness! I thought, ordering chips and queso for the third time in a week. Fuck other people’s narrow ideas about the only right ways to live a good and happy life.

But was my life really better, or happier? I loved taking shots with my sister at my favorite dive bar, bonding in a way we sometimes struggle to when sober. But I hated that by the time we got home I was sobbing on the couch about our fraught relationship with our mother, some deep dark part of me ripped open and exposed to the unforgiving light. I loved the dopamine rush of confirming yet another online shopping order, but I hated having to return half the crap once it piled up in my bedroom. I hated hangovers, mountains of takeout containers, and the point at which my Juul would stop giving me a stream of little highs and instead just start making me sick.

Amazon Studios / Courtesy Everett Collection

Jillian Bell in Brittany Runs a Marathon.

Last weekend, I took myself on a date to the movies. I saw Brittany Runs a Marathon, which is the exact kind of movie I’ve been seeking out lately: funny, uplifting, and you know going in exactly what you’re getting. Keep your twist endings, Quentin Tarantino! I’ll watch the movie where the ending is literally spoiled by the film title.

Paul Downs Colaizzo’s indie movie, which won the Audience Award in the US Drama category at Sundance, stars Jillian Bell as the titular Brittany, a goofy twentysomething in a major life rut. A doctor tells her she has an unhealthy BMI (proven to be a bogus measure of a person’s health) and that she needs to lose 50 pounds. This leads Brittany — and Bell herself — to attempt to shed the weight of a “small Siberian husky” over the next year, at the end of which Brittany plans to run the New York City Marathon.

A movie about a woman trying to find fulfillment through weight loss sounds pretty out of step with our current cultural moment, when fat acceptance and body positivity have been gaining significant ground. Kate Browne in Runner’s World argues that the movie functions as “fitspo” by conveying to viewers that if you lose weight, you, too, can achieve your dreams. “The story we’re too often told about fatness and running,” she wrote, “is that body size is an obstacle to overcome in our quest for glory.” Madison Malone Kircher, in a piece for Vulture, made similar points: “In Brittany Runs a Marathon, being fat is portrayed as a starting point instead of just a state of being.”

I, too, would have preferred a movie in which Brittany ran a marathon after gaining back all the weight she initially lost while training — proving to herself, and to viewers, that she could do remarkable things at any size. Still, I think the film does complicate more straightforward and more explicitly anti-fat weight loss narratives in popular culture by making clear that personal fulfillment and a small waist aren’t inextricably intertwined.

Soon before she’s set to run her first marathon (spoilers ahead), Brittany pushes herself too hard in her attempt to lose her final 10 pounds; she deprives herself of food and ends up in the hospital with a stress fracture. She has to miss the race. While recovering, she’s much thinner but more miserable than ever. In the film’s cringiest scene, Brittany gets drunk and heckles a fat woman at her brother-in-law’s birthday party, refusing to believe that the woman’s “average” size partner could actually love and desire a fat person. At other moments, she makes jealous assumptions about a (thin) neighbor she doesn’t actually know; she begrudges a married friend his happy domesticity with his husband and children. The film suggests that Brittany’s main problem has never been her weight — it’s that she’s convinced all her woes have nothing to do with her own actions and that other people, in turn, don’t deserve their happiness.

Amazon Studios / Courtesy Everett Collection

Patch Darragh and Jillian Bell in Brittany Runs a Marathon.

At the end of the movie, when Brittany signs up for the marathon again the next year and actually makes it to the race — cheered on by friends she’d previously spurned — I cried. I cried because it was, yes, inspirational, but I was also moved by the way the story managed to explore personal autonomy and desire in a self-improvement narrative without discounting the significant role played by larger systemic forces.

No, Brittany shouldn’t have to lose weight to be treated with respect — but the material reality of her life is that, when she’s thinner, she’s actually “treated like a woman,” as she tells her soon-to-be boyfriend: People smile at her; they hold the door for her on the subway. No, it isn’t fair that the fancy gym she tries to join when she first decides to lose weight is cost prohibitive to so many people — but that doesn’t discount the fact that running, and other ways of moving one’s body, are completely free.

I cried because I’ve long resented all the pressure I feel to work out and eat “well” and drink less and sleep more. So much of that pressure comes from a world hellbent on optimizing our bodies and brains for workplace efficiency, for social acceptance, for conventional beauty standards, for “normalcy.” It’s pressure designed to make us believe the world will become less of a hellscape through mere personal effort, rather than structural change.

But what if we don’t make those choices (just) to make ourselves more palatable to the world around us? Yes, living “well” — if we’re financially and physically able — benefits The Man. That doesn’t change the fact that treating our bodies with respect and care might benefit us too.

When I first thought about quitting drinking, about a month ago, I read Sarah Hepola’s 2015 recovery memoir, Blackout: Remembering the Things I Drank to Forget. I sobbed through the last 50 pages. (Yes, I’ve been crying a lot lately.) She talks about how, even after she got sober, she still wasn’t taking care of herself: lots of takeout, not a lot of making the bed or hanging up her laundry.

I told myself this was OK, because our society was beyond warped in its expectations of women, who were tsunamied by messages of self-improvement, from teeth whiteners to self-tanners … I wanted to kick the whole world in the nuts and live the rest of my years in sweatpants that smelled vaguely like salami, because who really cares?

But then, after a while, Hepola realized: She cared. She realized she didn’t need to make her body and home feel and look better to please men, or because it was what she was “supposed” to do. “I should take care of myself because it made me happy,” she wrote.

After finishing the book, I wondered if, angry at the propagandist sham of American individualism and bootstraps meritocracy, I’d course-corrected a little too hard — giving up on trying to improve myself or the world around me.

Eddy Chen / HBO

Zendaya as Rue on Euphoria.

My nihilism was both political and personal. Politically, I’d become Chidi, the philosophy scholar on The Good Place, who ends up in Hell because of his ethical indecision. At one point, after grasping so desperately for moral purity and failing to find it, he gives up. “The world is empty,” he yells. “There is no point to anything. And you’re just gonna die. So do whatever!” Personally, I saw myself as Euphoria’s Rue (minus the hard drug-taking), who returns to her life of debauchery after getting clean in rehab because she doesn’t see the point in trying to get better. “The world’s coming to an end,” she says in the first episode, “and I haven’t even finished high school yet.”

It’s a lot easier to believe that you can’t do much to improve your moods, your relationships, and the way your body feels while simultaneously believing you can’t do much to improve those things for other people, either. Abdicating that sense of any responsibility let me avoid a deeper, darker worry: that prioritizing the self is, by nature, saying to hell with everyone else.

My obsession with that particular quandary led me to Trisha Low’s new book-length essay, Socialist Realism, in which she attempts to reconcile her desire for the comforts of love and home with her desire for a socialist utopia. Is it even possible to pursue personal happiness and fulfillment while prioritizing The Greater Good at the same time?

“Home,” she writes. “It’s just something to contain our misplaced desires for a better world. How can we willingly long for that?” Her work is built upon that of her teacher, the academic José Esteban Muñoz, who famously theorized that queerness is, by its very nature, not-yet-here — “that thing that lets us feel that this world is not enough.”

In Megan Milks’s review of Socialist Realism for Bookforum, she notes that a decade ago “many queers were enamored with the alluring radicality of queer negativity” — think Lee Edelman’s 2004 polemic No Future, about the queer death drive — but “in the Trump era such grandiose nihilism seems puerile.”

I loved Low’s book for its messiness, its sense of struggle — a perfect depiction of the constant tugging I feel within myself every day, between my desire to deal with the realities of my own life and my desire to think on bigger, more ambitious scales. “Whatever,” Low eventually concludes. “You can make utopia out of almost anything.”

Since last month, I’ve stopped consuming alcohol (for now, though maybe also for longer). I threw away my Juul, then got jealous that I didn’t get rid of it more dramatically when I saw somebody smash theirs with a hammer on Instagram. Even King Princess, the Gen Z queen of Juuls, recently quit — a harbinger of change if I’ve ever seen one.

I’m trying to whittle away at my nihilism (both the personal and the political) in other small ways. I signed up for a trial at a rental clothing company, with the hopes that I’ll spend less money on shopping and contribute less waste. I’ve stopped eating beef, hopefully en route to full-fledged vegetarianism. And I joined a powerlifting gym after my friend Katie, who is basically a lifting influencer, extolled its many virtues. I’m hoping the sport’s focus on strength and power, rather than weight loss, will help me stop punishing my body for the way it looks and start celebrating it for what it can do.

I’ve had these little bursts of self-improvement projects before, but in the past I’ve always gotten bored and given up eventually. I’d start drinking again. I’d order a bunch of crap I didn’t need from companies that mistreat their workers and actively make the world worse. Whatever, who cares, nothing matters.

Just last week I caved and ordered six different white T-shirts and a $200 pair of boots. (“Basics!” I told myself. “Just the basics!”) I know I’m still going to have nights where I eat only popcorn for dinner and watch six straight episodes of Love Island and bum hits from my friends’ Juuls. I think what’s most important is that I’m at least trying to train myself to rely on more than just instant gratification. To have faith that, if I’m lucky, there’s a lot more life I’ve yet to live.

Critics of Franzen’s New Yorker piece on the climate apocalypse pointed out that the author’s climate projections are seriously flawed and his conclusions perhaps even more so. After taking swipes at everyone, from the evil science-deniers on the right to the overly optimistic peddlers of the Green New Deal on the left, Franzen sees hopeful futures for community gardens and CSA programs, but not much else.

“If your hope for the future depends on a wildly optimistic scenario,” he wrote, “what will you do ten years from now, when the scenario becomes unworkable even in theory? Give up on the planet entirely?”

What a patronizing way to address anyone who dares to dream. Teenage climate activist Greta Thunberg hasn’t documented her climate depression or dared adults to consider the impact of their personal choices just to piss off a bunch of man-baby conservatives. As a young person, she’s more than justified in fearing for her future, but despite her anger and her sadness — because of her anger and her sadness — she still believes in something better. Why bother even trying otherwise?

Yes, living “well” — if we’re financially and physically able — benefits The Man. That doesn’t change the fact that treating our bodies with respect and care might benefit us too.

Corrupt corporations and governments do hold the most blame, and the most significant obligations, when it comes to righting our course. But there is no easier way to shirk consumer responsibility — whether you’re eating beef, or flying a lot, or holding onto that unholy Amazon Prime subscription — than by self-soothing with the leftist adage that “there’s no ethical consumption under capitalism.”

As Charlotte Shane recently wrote in a piece about Jonathan Safran Foer’s We Are the Weather (yet another collection of Big Climate Thoughts by yet another underqualified white guy), holding institutions accountable “can’t be a ploy to deﬂect attention from our own culpability … No matter how otherwise constrained our circumstances, we can always choose each other, choose solidarity, choose effort. Every time we do, we’re making headway toward a new habit, a self-reinforcing orientation that alters the fabric of who we are and how we live.”

Is there anything in this world harder than trying to be both happy and good?

I’ve been listening to Lana Del Rey’s Norman Fucking Rockwell on repeat since the album dropped, which has put me in the perfect mood for my sad girl fall. But as much as Lana sings her beautiful, dreamy way through the depressing fog that is modern living, she still ends the album on somewhat of a high note. “Hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have,” she croons on the very last song. “But I have it.”

May we all, Lana. May we all. ●

Sahred From Source link Science

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