#and it WORKS.

[empresskadia]

I know we don't have alot of characterization for Linda-058, but I just like the thought of her being like, "Oh my god??? I actually made that shot??? Damn, look at me go :)" in her mind when she makes an impossible shot while everyone has this idea of her being the freaken best because she's Linda, she's a legendary spartan II, so of course she's going to make it.

[sharkjumpers]

99% of ignorers stop ignoring right before what they're ignoring disappears from their mind forever #KEEPIGNORING

[player1064]

ok first of all love your stuff second of all gary getting all flustered about freddie flintoff in 'it's just not what's done' is one of my favourite things in any fic and i would adore it if you wrote anything more involving gary getting flustered about the big handsome cricket man if you ever got the chance

I! LOVE! GARY GETTING FLUSTERED OVER BIG HANDOME CRICKET MAN FREDDIE FLINTOFF!!!! his poor gay nerves can't handle it........ can you IMAGINE if beautiful twink (~96-99) Gary had met him I think he would probably have died.

ANYWAY this lil drabble is set in the same fic universe as 'it's just not what's done' just bc I like writing openly gay but still hopeless with men Gary... and him and Carra still fighting the inevitable friendship that is coming for them...

---

The first planning session each Monday is more of a ‘sit in a conference room eating breakfast and chatting about the weekend’s games’ than it is a serious broadcasting meeting. It’s an almost nice start to a long day of meetings and rehearsals and shooting.

When they call time the producers all scuttle off to go spin their idle chit-chat into an hour’s worth of television, and the ‘talent’ (or whatever Carragher’s classed as) have a couple of hours to kill before the next meeting.

Gary, of course, usually spends it working. He’s no idea what Carragher does, only that he leaves their dressing room blissfully undisturbed for the full two hours, which is all he really needs to know.

Except, today Carragher pauses on his way out and says “thought I might try out one of them classes they have at the gym, fancy joining?”

Gary looks around the (now empty) room for who he could possibly be talking to, because there’s no way it’s him. He scoffs. “Do I look like I go to the gym, Carragher?”

“You look like you should,” Carragher replies, and so now Gary has no choice but to go just to prove him wrong.

He changes into baggy shorts and a t-shirt that’s tighter than he remembers it being when he bought it, and follows Carragher into the fitness studio part of the on campus gym.

And immediately walks back out when he sees which of his other esteemed colleagues have decided to spend their Monday mornings doing fucking yoga, of all things.

“Carra!” he hears a cockney accent greet as he starts to speed walk away, “and was that Gary I saw with you a second ago – oi, Nev! D’you forget something, I think we’re meant to be starting soon.”

Gary reluctantly turns back around and pastes on a smile, tugging self-consciously at the hem of his shirt. “Alright, Jamie?” he says with a nod, then turns to look at the man beside him and manages to get out a  single-syllable greeting of “Fred” without incident.

Carragher looks at him curiously, and he feels his stupid face heat up under the scrutiny.

“Just going to – just gonna head to my mat, then,” he says to a point on the wall behind Jamie and Freddie, and he hurries over to the furthest corner of the room possible.

Annoyingly, Carragher follows him.

“That was weird,” he says, voice hushed while the teacher walks up to the front and starts the introductions. “You’re weird, d’you know that?”

Gary tries to pay attention to what’s being said up front, but can’t help but frown and reply “dunno what you’re talkin’ about.”

Carragher leaves it, but a few minutes into the class the other Jamie and Freddie drag their mats closer and start up a continual stream of chatter that’s hard to ignore.

At one point, the teacher looks over to their corner and shushes them so harshly that Gary loses his concentration and stumbles a bit. He braces himself for a fall that doesn’t come, because there’s suddenly a warm hand on his elbow and – and, actually, maybe the fall would’ve been better.  Less embarrassing, surely, than having to look up at Freddie fucking Flintoff and mumble a thanks, and then turning away just a fraction too quickly and stumbling again, this time right into the poor man’s bare chest, because of fucking course he has taken his fucking shirt off for a fucking yoga class, why the fuck wouldn’t he?

He's just about ready to melt into the floor in a puddle of shame when the teacher points at them and says “you four, out!”, and he and Carragher are ushered out of the room by a giggling Jamie and Freddie.

“Didn’t yous say in your autobiography, Neville, that you got kicked out of yoga in playing days?” Carragher asks blithely.

Freddie is still stood close enough to Gary that he can feel his body heat, so with effort he manages to quite admirably reply with a hum and a shrug.

“Christ, if I’d known yoga w’you two idiots was all it took to get ‘im to shut up I’d’ve done it a year ago,” teases Carragher

Jamie reaches an arm out to ruffle Gary’s hair. “Aw, poor Nev’s got a little crush on me, don’t he? Can’t ever keep his head on around all this perfection.”

If he hadn’t played for Liverpool, Gary would be tempted to call Jamie Redknapp a good friend. Carragher and Freddie both scoff and start teasing Jamie and his vanity, and Gary’s able to regain enough composure to take a step away from Freddie and join in.

“Not if you were the last man on earth, Redknapp,” he says, then internally cringes at how his voice comes out just a little too loud.

Freddie laughs, elbows Jamie in the side. “Think you’re the one wit’ crush, Jamie,” he says, glancing over to Gary and Carragher with a wink. “Every time we see ‘im it’s ‘ooh, Gary, tell me I’m pretty’, ‘Gary, look, my biceps are bigger’n Fred’s’ – which is bullshit, just by the way – ‘Gary, stop starin’ at Fred and come pay attention to me’.”

Carragher looks between Freddie and Jamie, then turns to Gary with a squint. Gary prays to whatever god might be listening for him not to open that big ugly Scouse mouth of his.

No such luck.

“The two a’yous do realise who you’re squabblin’ over, right? Gary Neville, Christ, ‘ave some self-respect. He’s not even the best lookin’ footballer in his own family.”

[antisisyphus]

im really good at calming people down/stopping anxiety spirals BUT only certain types of ppl bc my go to method is "whats the worst that could happen" and they tell me their fear or whatever and i go "no. the worst that could happen is you die right now"

[omegaverse-anesthesiologist]

why is ao3 is blocked on the hospital wifi????

[theriverbeyond]

Ideal work schedule:

I show up and am given a list of cognitively engaging but achievable tasks

I complete the list

I leave immedietly

[baby-girl-aaron-dessner]

Art by: Henry James Garrett

[regina-cordium]

Guy just walked in with a shirt that said “I don’t question my wife’s choices because I’m one of them” and frankly I’m obsessed

[w1lmuttart]

The lake town

[epoxyconfetti]

[mostly-funnytwittertweets]

@magitekconveyor

[copepods]

crazy how 4 hours of work will literally take up my entire 15+ hour day. who allowed this

[gaydelgard]

if you are the type of person to tell a girl to stop driving around with an adult sized plastic skeleton strapped into the backseat of her car do not imagine even for one second that you could ever score a girl who would drive around with an adult sized plastic skeleton in the backseat of her car

[ivyblooms]

The funniest homophobia I ever experienced was a Mormon lady at my work telling me she would accept me being gay because we have to get along as coworkers but I really should consider not being gay because gay people have sex like animals (especially gay men) and she just couldn't stop thinking about it and how gross we are. She started really getting distressed, near tears, and saying 'I can't stop thinking about it. I can't stop." over and over and miming some kind of sex acts with her hands and I was like ?????? What is happening???? One of the other Mormon ladies had to come over and pat her on the back and help her sit down to help her calm down and our boss gave her the afternoon off due to being too upset to work.

[ilona-mushroom]

Not socialist in a “I won’t have to work” type of way but socialist in a “I’ll still be working but I won’t be worried I won’t make the rent” type of way. In a “billions won’t be hoarded by one person” type of way. In a “janitors, fast-food workers, child care workers, preschool teachers, hotel clerks, personal care and home health aides, and grocery store cashiers, will live comfortably” type of way. In a “the sick and elderly will be cared for” type of way. In a “no child should work” type of way.