#i have been working the past two weekends and am tired. i work today and this weekend is a 50/50. i might work if someone calls in sick

[almostdeath]

I absolutely adore the idea of Friend being a reference to Schlatt/Glatt. You know...Rammie being the icon of Schlatts channel? Sheep, horns, blue sweater....Wilburs friend.

It's a very sweet HC....if only Wilbur wouldnt say that Ghostbur and Friend have a romantic relationship, like, why? Why Mr.Soot?

So now...if we accept that sweet HC then we would have to accept that Ghostbur and Glatt have a romantic relationship....

I am just here, being nostalgic and thinking about Ghostbur. His final is incredibly sad...so I really wanna write some comfort piece. Like...him meeting Schlatt and recognizing him only from the time they were friends and all....

Schlatt spending his time equally (even more) long in the Limbo to...not really have that angry temperament but instead just being tired, maybe a bit numb.

Both deserve some comfort- common, Schlatt did the least evil of all people on the DSMP technically-

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[orikiys]

✿ ✿ 〞arguements with skz

✰ pairings :  ot8!skz x gn!reader

✰ genre : angst

✰ warnings :  heavy angst, mentions of toxic behavior in some, misunderstandings, failing to communicate

✰ word count :   2.7k + words

part 2

౨₊ৎ chan

"why are you so angry about all this?"

“you’re seriously asking me that?” his brows raised in disbelief as he spoke.

this what you two had been dealing with lately. unnecessary fights and constant bickering over anything. even today, a weekend, which chan called his ‘golden day’ , you two were yelling across the room.

“yes i am. and i’ll keep asking till you stop acting petty,” you looked him dead in the eye now. your faces were edging closer and closer to his, a defiant glare sparkling in your eyes. chan glared back, but he looked away as quickly, not being able to look at you when you two were fighting. he was used to the warm and admiring gazes, but not these sharp and angry stares. it made his stomach churn with the thought, what if you both got tired of fighting one day?

“if you’re not going to open your mouth no one will be sleeping tonight,” your voice snaps him back to reality, he silently stares at the floor with his head hung low.

“you know i hate him, don't you? i’ve told this story to you like a thousand times already and yet you still talked to him! do you think that’s fair?” he raised his voice and immediately regretted it. but there was no taking it back now. words can only be taken back in laptops or phones, not in real life.

“i just talked to him for barely even two minutes, chan! you’re being ridiculous at this point. do you think this is fair?” you cock your eyebrow at him, not hesitating to raise your voice as well since he walked down that path first.

“it doesn’t matter how long you talked, the point is you talked even after knowing our rough past. it’s almost like you don’t care about me or my feelings anymore! you’ve changed. you’ve become. . . selfish,” ouch. that had to hurt. and chan noticed the way your eyes instantly dulled. he licked his lower lip anxiously and watched as your frown deepened.

there were no further words uttered from your side which made him realise just how far he went, “babe. . . i- sorry,” the words were stuck in his throat and he could practically feel the tears building in his eyes as you took a shaky breath. he took a step closer and raised his hand to touch your face, but you avoided that and walked away.

maybe it was selfish indeed. or maybe not, he wished to not answer that as he sat on the couch and dragged a hand across his face filled with guilt. and as he stared at the hallway where you walked out, he could only hope to turn back the time and undo his mistake. but for now, he needed to wait. or fight for you.

౨₊ৎ minho

minho let out a frustrated groan when he felt the couch dip beside him. he threw a mere glance, before opening his laptop and typing something. it was unusual of him to act this frustrated and even when you tried to talk to him he glared in your way.

“i understand you’re having a bad day but it doesn’t mean that you can act however you want,” you muttered and scooted away from him before crossing your arms over your chest.

“then simply don’t understand,” he muttered nonchalantly and leaned closer to the laptop screen as he typed. this infuriated you even more.

“can you at least pretend to care? i’m not a statue sitting beside you!” his gaze shifted to you and he pressed his lips into a straight line.

“of course i will! should i even leave my job and tell my boss that my partner wanted to argue with me while i work?” sarcasm dropped all over his tone and it made you nauseous. you couldn’t believe your ears thay minho, lee minho was acting this way. he rolled his eyes and muttered a ‘thought so’ , upon seeing you go quiet and diverted his gaze back to the laptop in front of him.

“why do you have to make everything so difficult? why can’t you just talk like normal people do?” your gaze hardened and he could feel it. rolling his eyes, he switched his gaze back to you and saw you, a new you. your jaw was clenched harshly it was almost as if you were a ticking time bomb, just finding the right time and you could explode.

but minho was no less. the last thing he wanted was to submit his work after his deadline. and time was ticking as always. it doesn’t wait for him.

“the world doesn’t revolve around you! you need to know that. i have submissions to make and i can’t afford to lose my job when i’m this close to getting promoted,” with a final look he picked up his laptop and marched into your shared room. you poked your inner cheek with a tongue and wiped a lone tear that dripped on your cheek. this was going to be one hell of a night. and what hurt you even more is that he didn't even try.

౨₊ৎ changbin

changbin just unlocked the door to your shared apartment and quietly took off his shoes before slipping in the flip-flops. his heart dropped out it’s chest when he saw the date and time. it was two minutes past three. and he wasn’t surprised when the lights flicked on and there you stood, with an exhausted expression and wearing formals.

“shit. . . babe i’m so sorry-“

“you’re sorry?” your scoff definitely took him back. he stared at you nervously and felt his palms get clammy.

“if you’re sorry then you wouldn’t have forgotten our second anniversary! if you’re sorry then you wouldn’t have forgotten our booking! and if you’re really sorry then you would’ve at least called!” you yelled loudly and he could feel himself grow annoyed even though he was at fault.

“babe, i’ve had a tiring day and a bad headache. could you please not shout?” his soft tone took you by surprise but there was disappointment all over your face as he simply began to walk away.

“that’s it then? you’re just walking away like that? like a coward running away from his problems?” your throat felt dry when his head turned and his eyes met yours. his brows were furrowed in anger and he took a step towards you.

“me? a coward? if working my ass off means i’m a coward then maybe i am one. but i’m not running away from my problems. i’m simply solving them at the right times,” he muttered and gave you a tight smile.

“right time, huh? then why can’t you appear at the right times during our dates?” you replied, weakly. you were tired too. tired of his excuses, his empty promises, his apologies. they felt like nothing anymore. he had let you down too many times.

he opened his mouth to say something but closed it back again realising it could worsen the situation. with a soft sigh, he pressed his lips to your head and muttered a sorry before walking away.

maybe, the right time required you both to sit down and talk calmly.

hyunjin

“baby,” you hummed in response, making him continue, “i have a tour coming up so i’ll be gone for two months.”

the words slipped his mouth so easily as if he almost didn’t care. he came back home a week ago. out of which, he spent more than half of his time occupied at the company.

“you just came back!” the exasperation was visible in your tone and hyunjin bit his lip, feeling guilty. he cupped your face and said, “i’ll call you everyday, i promise.”

with a glare you shrugged his hands off and sat straighter to get your point clear, “if i wanted a boyfriend who can only call me why didn’t i just go for long distance?”

hyunjin’s expression changed. he ran a hand through his hair harshly, “i thought you knew what you were getting to when you started dating me.”

“yes i did! i still do. but that doesn’t change the fact that you have the upper hand in your life. which means you should be able to make some time for me?” it felt pathetic, to beg for his time. to sit there at home waiting for him. always. like the desperate being you were. and you began to even pity yourself.

“how long do i have to wait for you hyun? just how long?” and as the tears finally slipped through, hyunjin pulled you in a tight hug. he let you hit him. he let you curse him. and in the end he didn��t let you walk and slip away. but maybe, trying harder would be better. the thing that stung the most was time. time that he didn't have for you. time that he promised he would give, but never did. maybe it was time to take some right decisions for both of you.

౨₊ৎ han

you had been trying to get your boyfriend to talk to you for about 15 minutes now. it was a chore. it was exhausting. but you knew something was wrong and you weren't going to let him suffer alone.

“what’s your problem?” he snapped. annoyance written bold on his forehead as he stared at you, waiting for an answer.

“you’re too unusually quiet today,” you muttered under your breath but he managed to hear it.

it was one of those days where the two of you didn’t hold back.

“oh so now you decide whether i talk or not?” you sighed noticing him still look annoyed.

“don’t put words in my mouth jisung,” your eyes warned him, and he snapped himself out of it before covering his face with his hands.

“can you just go away for now?” he whispered and looked at you. he looked so . . . tired.

“is that a request or a warning?” your joke had no smiles, neither out of you nor him. he expectantly looked at you making you bitterly nod to yourself.

“always has to be me,” and even though it reached his ears he gave no expression, seemingly feel his head throb with thinking too much. he slammed his hands on the desk it made him feel better, maybe not much. but it did not fill the gap in his chest. and it hurt him to reach this point.

౨₊ৎ felix

“lix, i don’t think i can do this anymore,” you muttered and looked away knowing that one look at his face would have you running back in his arms. you had become that weak for him. that weak that you couldn’t resist him or his lies.

“what do you mean baby?” he looked so confused that you almost felt guilty, but then you remembered that he was just being innocent. as if he didn’t lie to you a hundred times. as if he didn’t cause you pain and misery almost everyday.

“i’m tired of you, lix. i’m also tired of us. how long are you going to make me suffer?” your tone caught him by surprise. he stared at you baffled, trying to find words to make you stop speaking like that anymore but he chose to remain quiet when he saw that look of sadness take up on your expression.

“i know we fight a lot babe but i swear i love you,” he held your hands in his hands and pressed a tender kiss while looking at you.

there it was. those words he uttered again, just like always. he would hurt you and then later on he would sweet talk you. and you had grown extremely tired of it.

shrugging his hands off you took a step back, “that’s it felix! if you try to manipulate me once more i’m breaking up with you!”

his brows furrowed in confusion. he didn’t know what you were playing at, but he wasn’t going to back off after being told those words.

“manipulate? i’m simply trying to remain calm! but looks like all my efforts are going in vain,” hurt spread all across his face as he said it. maybe you overthinking it, or maybe not. but one thing was clear, you both hurt each other in ways you didn’t know.

“you always do this! make promises you can’t keep and then talk me out of it,” and even though you stood firm with your decision, you weren’t a fool to not notice the way his shoulders slumped down, and his mouth turn downwards forming a frown.

“what more do i have to do to make you believe that i a sincere about this, about us?” he let out an exasperated sigh after pointing between the two of you.

“just be honest and love me,” and as you uttered those words, your eyes met his and you could see the way it reflected deep sorrow and perhaps guilt? you couldn’t name it.

with a dejected nod, he grabbed his wallet, bag and phone before rushing out of the house.

“i’ll be staying over at chan’s,” he muttered giving you one final look, as if telling you to stop him. but you didn’t, you just nodded and looked away.

he felt all his hopes shatter down upon that one thing, all the things he dreamt of for future could be seen crumbling down and all he could do was let out a shaky breath with his hand trembling all the while as he drove away.

౨₊ৎ seungmin

“where were you?” he practically shouted, startling you.

“i told you i was out with some friends,” you replied, trying to be the calm one.

“some friends? or a special friend?” his tone felt poisonous. it felt unfamiliar on his tongue to speak in this way but he tried not to look too fazed.

“what is that supposed to mean?” you replied pointedly, totally forgetting about remaining calm and stared at him.

“you know exactly what i mean,” his voice lowered down for a second and so did the anger in his gaze, but he held contact wanting you to know it was serious.

“i’ve called you like a million times and i was worried sick because you didn’t tell me where you went!”

“i can take care of myself, seungmin.”

“sure you can, but i don’t trust the other men,” he sighed and his eyes finally softened.

“good night,” he mumbled and walked away, leaving you standing all alone. things were getting better for worse? or for better?

౨₊ৎ jeongin

“stop shouting,’’ he said. It almost made you scoff when he was the one who started it.

“babe it wasn’t funny you know that?’’ you muttered, dejected but he just looked away not having any words to speak.

“i understand they are your friends but you can’t just go and tell them about my problems like that!’’ jeongin let out a deep sigh and looked at you.

“i thought maybe they could help in a way. they’re like my family.’’

“still. you could’ve at least asked me before telling them, you’re basically feeding off every bit of my secrets and i’m even scared to tell you anything now,’’ now that sounded ridiculous to him. you could trust him, and he wanted you to know that.

“you’re clearly overreacting. i just told them why you were feeling off,’’ he ran a hand through his hair growing frustrated that you both didn’t understand each other.

“you gave them the entire speech jeongin. don’t you dare lie to my face!’’ that was the high point. the two of you looked at each other with an abnormally furious gaze. and it made you realise just how long would it take for this to end?

“i’m not lying! Why don’t you understand me? i was just trying to make you feel better!’’

“if you wanted to make me feel better then you could’ve talked to me! and not them!’’

a minute of silence was all that was heard before you took your cue to speak, “am i dating you or am i dating them?’’ the tears came as quickly as they fell. you had grabbed your coat and bag, heading for the door. you didn't think anything else could hurt you. but you were wrong.

what hurt the most was that he didn't stop you.

[brisquad-unit-4402]

vanvan bans a man

i had so much fun with that title. you know what else is fun? the jealous vanta kick i’m on atm. i’ve got another possessive vanta fic in the works and really fighting the urge to post jealous krisis (polykrisis even⁉️)

tags: gender neutral reader, established relationship, hurt/comfort, a bit of angst, protective vanta, reader has a shitty ex-boyfriend, jealousy, vanta calls you "mine" and other subtle possessive dialogue, unspecified what your ex has done in the past, the boys are fightinggggggg

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Unfortunately, a vibrating phone is what wakes you up today. Which is really quite a bummer; you’re used to waking up on your own time in Vanta’s arms, or when he’s the first to rise and you can feel the mattress shift as he gets up.

The phone vibrates again, and you’re inclined to shut your eyes tight and let the text go unanswered, at least until you wake up proper. At the third buzz your mind connects the dots. It’s a call.

Your closed eyes sting as you rub them, then grab the phone with the other hand. The taste of sleepy breath cracks along your tongue as you mumble, “Hello?”

On the other end, you can hear shuffling and slinking, some ambient picture that you don’t have the sense to imagine right now. “Oh, you picked up.”

Your blood runs cold.

Oh, you recognize that voice. You recognize it damn well, no matter how hard you wished you wouldn’t hear it again. You told your ex in no uncertain terms to never contact you again last time you saw his face. He was lucky you couldn’t muster up the courage to curse him out as you broke it off.

Yet here you are, laying in bed at a weak hour. The screen, even in dark mode, singes your sights as you read the current time: 1:19 AM on a weekend night.

“Hey, Reader,” your ex continues, as if he didn’t know his voice was knives under your skin, needling you until something cracked open. “How’s it going?”

“Why are you calling me?” You ask faintly.

“I wanted to see how you were doing,” he says.

You blink, the sleep in your eyes making way for shock. As it subsided, you could feel it growing into a nasty pool of anxiety in your throat. The sheets around you crinkle and shuffle as you repeat, “Why?”

“I dunno, sometimes I just wonder what you’re up to,” your ex drawls. He speaks like a long smoke, cigarette ash dusting his way-too-carefree tongue. “But if you really want to know, I got something to tell you.”

No, no, no. You know where this is going. A thousand rejections rumble up, but your lips are shut, stapled in place by your nerves. The world around you keeps moving while you’re frozen.

“I guess I should continue?” He chuckles for a moment. Smarmy. Incorrigible. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately, more than usual. That means there’s something there, right? And I’m not ready to let go of it yet.”

You hear your name but this feels like a trap.

“We should try again,” you ex suggests. You can hear the smile in his voice, the way one corner of his lip curls before the other and the confident eyes. That was charming—until you got used to seeing the damn smirk whenever you apologized for something he should’ve owned up to himself. He’s a master at getting what he wants while casting you off to the side.

You hear your name being called again as you get lost in your haze. “Reader,” Vanta murmurs. He turns to you, looping his sleepy hands around your waist. “Who’re you calling? Tell them I said hello.”

The other line shuffles for a moment. “You’re still with him?”

“Are they talking about me?” Vanta yawns. “Hello.”

Great. Now you’re stuck between two men that care for you: the one that broke your heart time and time again, and a tired tyrant spooning you as he wakes up. At least Vanta’s gentle grasp is grounding you while you can feel your thoughts spiral.

The ex hesitates. “I didn’t think he’d last long,” he says aloud.

“Hey,” Vanta sets his chin on your shoulder. He pouts, ready to whine, but then he glances at the phone screen and the contact name. “Wait, is that…?”

“So you must be the boyfriend.”

“Yeah, this is he. Give me the phone, Reader.”

Passing it off feels like a burden.

Vanta rolls onto his back, but keeps an arm by your waist. You place your hand on his, hoping that the veins and knuckles soothe you as you rub them.

Ex-Boyfriend starts. “Well, I don’t—“

“What the hell is your problem calling at ass o’clock in the morning to harass Reader,” Current Boyfriend snaps. A switch flipped. Usually when he's groggy, his low voice is soothing, but now the rumble of interrupted rest makes his voice growl, dangerous and menacing. "Should I even ask why you thought this was a good idea? The fuck did you think was going to happen? If Reader said you're done, then you're done. You're cooked. Golden brown, deep-fried, burnt to a crisp, cooked. You’re done."

"I don't need your permission to talk to Reader."

"L-O-L? Yes, you do?" Vanta says, so baffled his jaw drops. "If you're going to hit on my partner, I have a right to tell you to eat shit. Not to mention how weird you were in the past, and how weird you are now. Like, if you really cared for Reader you'd delete this number and go on with your life instead of calling like a creep at one in the morning!"

"Fuck off, it was important."

"You fuck off! What's important is that you leave Reader the hell alone.” Vanta practically spits as he hisses at the man on the line, even though his volume is barely below his usual speaking voice. Underneath your grasp, his hand tightens around your waist. The seam of your shirt curls as he pulls you close. “You try that shit again and I’ll tear you apart. Reader’s mine, not yours. Got it?”

He doesn’t even wait for the ex to respond before continuing. “Glad to hear it. Goodnight.” Vanta hangs up without a second thought. You watch the phone’s light illuminate his face as the screen returns to normal, casting a pale glow around his nose and his furrowed brows. “Bitch,” he adds, still frowning at the screen.

Purple eyes glance at you. At the contact, he sighs, placing your phone down so he can wrap both of his arms around you properly. He rests his hand along the back of your neck, thumbing along the soft skin and setting his forehead along yours, eyes now downcast.

“Sorry,” he says, far gentler than when he was on the phone. “I wish you didn’t have to hear any of that.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s just the way that he was talking about you, and your history with him was pissing me off. I just couldn’t hold back. I’m—“

“Thank you,” you choke out.

“—Really sorry,” Vanta says at the same time. “Wait, huh?”

But you don’t even respond. Instead you bury yourself into your partner’s chest, trying to control your breathing. You’re overwhelmed with anxiousness but at least Vanta’s shirt smells like him.

His palm goes from your neck down to your back, rubbing circles as you try to calm yourself. Vanta mumbles. It’s muffled through his shirt and arms around you, but you’d assume it’s consoling. His throat hums and vibrates along your temple in soothing rhythms as he speaks.

Now that the emotional overload is dwindling, your grip tightens around him like you’re holding a stress ball. You murmur. “I really didn’t want to talk to him.”

Vanta’s heart breaks at that admission. You feel him readjust his position and hear the telltale pulse of a kiss at the top of your head. “You don’t have to,” he says. “He’s not worth it.

“Makes me sick thinking that some people are so entitled that they can just hurt you and act like nothing happened,” Vanta continues. “You deserve to be treated like royalty, and you deserve better than him. Screw him.”

Your boyfriend pats your back as you recompose yourself. You bitterly cast a glance at the phone, still resting face-down from the call earlier. “I’m sorry you had to take care of it.”

“Don’t feel bad. That’s the bare minimum.” He kisses you again on your forehead. “You just rest, it’s late for you.”

“It’s late for you, too, Vanta.”

“I’ll manage.” He grins. “Gotta protect my baby somehow.”

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

✧. ┊ masterpost ✧. ┊ kofi

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

I so fucking pissed. I went to clinical today and the tech who I shadowed all day today and all day yesterday casually mentioned that her husband came down with Covid this weekend.

She hasn’t been taking any precautions at home to prevent herself from catching it. She didn’t wear a mask at work yesterday or today (mind you, we work in healthcare).

And as the day went on today she kept saying things like “oh, I have a little tickle in my throat, that’s weird” and “god, I am just so tired!”

YEAH, probably because you have Covid!

She hasn’t tested since Saturday!!! Today is Tuesday!! She has been around her sick husband every day and has only taken one test.

What the fuck kind of healthcare provider is she?? And how can she be so indifferent to the well-being, health, and safety of her coworkers and patients??

I have been in such close proximity with her these past two days. She sits like two inches away from me when I’m scanning, and spend all day together in a small room.

It just feels so unethical and disrespectful to everyone there- the patients, her coworkers, and myself included. She’s actively choosing not to take any precautionary measures and in doing so is risking the lives of her patients.

We see vulnerable people, too!! Like the people who come to us have heart problems!! And some of them are quite old!!! What is wrong with this woman!!!

And if I get sick I’m going to throw hands. I can’t afford to miss school, I can’t afford to miss clinical. And I don’t want to risk getting anyone else sick.

I know that sometimes people go to work when they’re sick without knowing it, like before their symptoms set in. But she has every reason to think that she may have Covid. She should’ve been testing every day since her husband’s positive test. But she hasn’t. Cause I guess she just doesn’t care about anyone else.

[light-yaers]

Take Care: Chapter Eleven

Fic Masterpost | AO3 | Chapter List

Warnings: swearing, eventual smut, emotional themes

A/N: it's been over a month i have no excuse other than MY BRAIN HURTS and I AM SO TIRED but i am so glad to be out of this rut. get ready for more, and get excited for this incredibly roy centric chapter

Word Count: 7.2k

Chapter Eleven

A month or so later you sat, rigid and tense, in the green room at Sky Studios. Up until then, the fanciest or most intense place you’d ever visited was that of AFC Richmond, the Dogtrack, but these studios kicked Nelson Road out of the fucking stadium. The only way you could describe it was sterile. Like a hospital, or some morbid place where people came to sit and be quiet, except you weren’t here for either of those things. 

You were here to see Roy, and that was the most intense part of it all. 

In the green room was a screen with a live relay from the stage, where you saw Roy, Jeff and Chris sitting at their familiar, unusually large, commentary table. They were taping some bits for an upcoming episode of Soccer Saturday, the parts where they weren’t required to be there live and in person. 

The breath hitched in your throat whenever Roy appeared on screen. It was still entirely new and off-putting, yet the internet had blown up when they’d seen the ex-Captain on the show. Finally, Roy Kent was back in the football world. Not playing, or coaching, but commentating. It was a good alternative, and he rocked it during the show, even despite his way with words and his… not entirely enthused demeanour. To anyone that didn’t know Roy, they’d probably think him crude and rude and blunt, all the ways he’d been described in the past in the press. To those that knew Roy inside and out, watching him on TV was like a breath of fresh air. Those closest to him had been saying the same thing for years– I could listen to you talk for hours and not get bored. 

You were no different, and in fact, had known Roy for over a year now. It was crazy how time flies, wasn’t it?

When he’d texted you an invite to the studios, you’d said yes immediately. Your time with Roy was short enough already, but now that he’d landed the gig his time was being soaked up more and more. You found yourself now, sitting at your desk at Pluto Press, just thinking about when you’d next see him. Any opportunity that arose you took by the fucking balls, and that’s exactly what went down when he’d asked you to the studios. 

Right guys, that’s a wrap for today. See you at the weekend. 

The show director said over the live screen, and you watched intently as Roy and his co-hosts had their microphone packs removed. The sound switched off immediately, but Chris approached Roy and stuck out his hand. The two legends shook hands quickly, and you noticed the smallest of smiles appear on Roy’s face as they pulled away. 

It made you smile back at them, bashfully, to yourself. There was something warming about seeing Roy interact with others like this. It was rare to catch him in a good mood at any of his prior jobs– which you knew very well from working alongside him at the Dogtrack– but seeing him enjoy his time, become buddy-buddy with Chris fucking Kamara, and all the rest made you exceptionally happy. 

You were proud of his successes, and understood his plunders. You wanted to feel that he felt the same about you in return, but you’d started this thing where you tried not to think about him like that. Assumptively, or overly-affectionately, or anything that reminded your heart of how you really felt about the man on the screen before you. It was just like you’d said to Keeley and Rebecca– you would never mention it, never tell him, and you were okay with that. 

You were okay with that. 

You jumped suddenly when the door to the green room burst open. A production assistant entered, headset donned and clipboard in his hands, shoved into his chest like he’d die without it. “Roy Kent’s plus one?” he asked. 

You looked around the empty room. You were the only one in there, but the assistant hadn’t even met your eye yet. You cleared your throat and raised your hand in the air, like a schoolgirl in class. The production assistant finally met your eye, and then clicked at you abruptly. 

“You– right. Come on, you’re wanted on set,” he said. 

You wasted no time standing up and pushing past him at the door, heart in your throat. The two of you navigated the backstage corridors of the studio, until you finally emerged on the set of Soccer Saturday. The lights were bright, too bright, and exceptionally warm to stand beneath. Camera operators, gaffers and runners still milled about the set, but you blocked them out as you went to step onto the stage. 

“Can I?” you asked the production assistant from earlier. He glanced up and went to object, opening his mouth wide, but stopped as soon as a hand descended on his shoulder. 

“‘Course you can,” Roy said, peering down at the production assistant. “Isn’t that right, Jacob?”

Jacob nodded, no doubt sweating profusely as Roy hoarded himself over the skinny kid. He was definitely younger than you by a number of years, probably fresh out of university. “Y-yes, of course, Roy.” 

You looked away, not wanting to laugh so meanly at the ordeal. It was just so Roy of him to intimidate crew at the studios, probably just from standing and doing nothing. It made your chest compress painfully, as you forced yourself away from the all-encompassing nostalgia of being around him all the time before, at the Dogtrack, and seeing it in person a whole lot more. 

God, you thought you needed a fucking lobotomy with how much you still clung onto the past. It only made you feel more childish, more pathetic, with every flashback that hit your brain and made you swallow away the want to cry. 

You stepped onto the stage a bit more, and looked out towards the several cameras. They all pointed in your direction, camera one and two and three, and however many more. “Jesus fucking Christ,” you muttered, scoffing at it all as Roy joined you on stage. “This is intense.”

“I never know how to react when I realise people can see my beard in 4K,” Roy said, as a small smile curled onto his face. He peered down at you softly, his gaze flicking across your features as you looked around the set curiously. “It’s good to see you.” You turned to him and looked up, smiling at him bashfully. 

This was just it– those little moments where you’d happily melt into a puddle on the ground beneath him, but you couldn’t. 

You coughed, laughing awkwardly, before you gently poked him in the chest. “You too,” you said, trying to keep things as playful as possible. Roy perked his brow at you questioningly, amused, but didn’t comment. Instead, he watched you panic subtly as you continued around the set, until you’d rounded the desk to his chair. 

“May I?” you asked. 

Roy bowed at you smally. “Be my fucking guest.” 

You sat down in his chair slowly, and leaned your elbows on the desk before you. You shuffled your shoulders, and puffed out your chest. “Oh, I could get used to this,” you said, feeling powerful. Roy growled at you gently. “Come on, sit in Jeff’s chair.”

If Roy wanted to object in any way, he didn’t. He obediently made his way around the desk and sat in Jeff Stelling’s chair, all the while looking at you like you were gold. You sucked in a deep breath and cleared your throat. “So, Jeff– what did you make of AFC Richmond’s last game? When will these fucking tied games end, hm?” you said, putting on your most gravelly voice possible in an attempt to imitate Roy. 

He sighed, but he still didn’t object. A small smile was still curled on his lips, and it made your gut coil. He leaned forward, and adopted Jeff’s stance. “Well, Roy,” he started, taking on a much cheerier voice than his own. It was off-putting. “Richmond has been hit hard, but not as hard as their mascot Earl was a few months ago. Poor fuck–” He coughed, and recomposed himself. “Poor dog.”

“Well fucking said, Jeff,” you replied, but burst into giggles as soon as you did. “What do you reckon is the reason for their tie records on top of it, though? And what about that prick, Jamie fucking Tartt, sculking around the club after his stint in the reality TV game?”

Roy furrowed his brows at you quizzically. “Jamie fucking Tartt is trying to get signed to Richmond again?” he said, his normal voice cutting through. 

You waved him off. “I’ll tell you later. Keep going,” you said quickly, bringing it back to the game. 

Roy growled, and went back to his Jeff impression. “Well, it could be a number of things, Roy.” You smiled to yourself, elated just to be around him again. “Your retirement, for starters, has left the team utterly abandoned and in the dust.”

You perked your brow at him.“I’m not sure that’s entirely true, really–”

“They’re devastated by the loss,” Roy cut you off again, and you burst out a giggle. Roy swallowed away his amusement then, as he met your eye. “That, and the loss of their social placement was definitely a hard pill to swallow.” You froze as the words fell from his mouth. “I– inside sources– have told the press about how hard it’s been after she left. Her fanclub made up of Isaac McAdoo, Colin Hughes and Sam Obisanya haven’t been the same since her placement ended.”

You swallowed painfully, as Roy’s gaze stayed stuck on your own for a second too long. Neither of you looked away, but your heart swelled to twice the size beneath your ribcage. This fucking sucked– cutting yourself off from feeling all this– fucking sucked. But, you felt it was necessary. You didn’t want to lose Roy again– couldn’t– and this would ensure he stuck around. 

Still, as he looked at you with a softness reserved only for people he truly gave a shit about, you couldn’t help but give in just this once. 

You dropped the act, and reverted your voice to your own. “I seem to remember there being more people in the fanclub,” you said. “Who else hasn’t been the same, hm?” 

Roy leaned back in his chair, and crossed his legs. You thought he’d tense up, or lean forward, but you knew that position was a sign that he was truly comfortable. Meanwhile, you were trying to hide the fact your fingers were shaking. 

“I can think of one more.” He shrugged. “Want a name?” 

“No,” you said instantly, abruptly, taking back everything you’d put out before. You recomposed yourself, and smiled as normally as you could. “I think I already have a good guess.”

Roy opened his mouth and sucked in a breath, before he nodded at you in understanding. It felt like a situation similar to that first night, after the charity ball, when you’d offered another time. Roy could easily count how many times you’d held yourself back from him. He didn’t know what to say to reassure you that this– you and him– was okay. He wasn’t one for being mushy, but he figured there was a reason as to why you hadn’t made it clear yet. 

So, he stayed put. He waited, and he wondered if you ever would, and if you never did– then that would be that. It wasn’t worth blurting out his feelings in a, no doubt, blunt and plain way if it meant risking this all. Seeing you, being around you, taking it on the chin everytime you scolded him when he deserved it. 

You were one of the only people out there that could tell him to fuck off. He liked it that way. 

As the two of you drove home, you stared out the window on the passenger side. Being around Roy always made you feel warm, but since he’d become a pundit, things had felt heavier. Thicker, tenser, like you’d be able to cut the atmosphere between you with a plastic butter knife. Maybe it was due to you setting yourself invisible boundaries, but something still made your stomach flip whenever he indulged. 

Innately, you told yourself to shake it off. If things stayed as they were with you both meant nothing would change, but you admitting your feelings to him would. It was still out of the question, but you had to be stronger around him. You sucked in a breath, and it cemented things in your brain. No longer would you crumble at his warm remarks, his soft stares, his playful behaviour. These were just things that Roy did with you, and hell, you enjoyed it platonically just as much as you would romantically– so what did it matter?

Roy pulled up outside your building, and you clicked off your seatbelt. You didn’t get out of the car, however, and placed your hands in your lap instead. “Thanks for–”

“What are you doing next Wednesday?” Roy cut over you. Your brain short circuited.

“Uh– finish work at five, like normal. Why?” 

“I’ve got Phoebe that night. We were going to grab a chinese and watch Ice Age. You in?” 

You smiled to oblivion. “I’d love to. Why Ice Age though?”

“Because she’s fucking seven, and I’m unashamed to say that film makes me cry every time.”

You scoffed abruptly, surprised. “Really?”

“Really,” Roy said seriously. “That baby is still fucking ugly though.” You laughed, and nodded in agreement. Roy tapped the steering wheel, expelling happy energy. He growled in approval. “Fruit Shoot pre drinks are at six, so you better not be late.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you said, before you opened your door and got out of the car. Roy rolled the window down when you hopped up on the pavement on his side, and stuck his elbow out like a trucker. 

“See you later,” he said, though not with his usual hostility and unbothered attitude. This was a see you later that had feeling behind it.

You swallowed bashfully. “See you.”

On Monday, Rebecca met you at Pluto Press. She strolled through the building with purpose, shoes clicking intently on the hardwood floors, until she loomed over your desk fiercely. “I’m here to see the best writer in the building,” she said.

You peered up at her and smiled profusely, before you shot up and gave her a colossal hug. “God, I’ve fucking missed you.” 

“Me too, darling,” she said, before pulling away. She kept her hands on your shoulders for good measure. “Come on. Pasta and wine won’t eat and drink itself.”

You liked getting dinner with Rebecca alone. She was an important figure to you, despite the previous way she’d felt about the club and people like you in general. She twisted her arm around your own as the two of you made your way out of Pluto Press, and you had to admit that you felt confident when in stride next to Rebecca. She was well-known, a prominent businesswoman, a strong person, and you were glad to have her in your life.

Especially, when she had gossip to spill.

“He’s called John. He treats me nice. He’s good looking and intelligent and everything good, but…” 

“But?” you questioned, feeling giddy during girl talk. 

“Well, after Rupert and all the other bozos I’ve been with, I want to make sure he is everything I think he is.”

“Ah, you want your friends’ approval, is that it?” 

Rebecca picked up her wine glass. “Absolutely, I do.” She sipped at the contents, before placing the glass back on the table. “I had an idea of a double date with you and Keeley pretending to be girlfriends.”

You scoffed abruptly. “We wouldn’t even need to pretend that much. I love her and she loves me.” 

“Exactly my thoughts! But, Keeley is away in fucking Edinburgh this weekend, so that’s a no go.”

You thought through your options. Who could you bring as a possible fake date to this double date situation if it wasn’t Keeley? You snapped your fingers. “Oh, I know— I could bring Ted!” 

Rebecca looked like you’d run over a child with Roy’s Jeep. “Absolutely fucking not.”

You recoiled. “Oh, come on. Who the fuck else then?”

“Just bring Roy!” Rebecca exclaimed. Your cheeks warmed intensely. 

“Oh, fuck off,” you spat out, bringing your wine glass to your lips and trying to ignore the way your gut had lurched.

Rebecca leaned towards you, a mischievous smile on her face. “Just imagine it. You and Roy already look and act like a fucking couple sometimes–” You swallowed your wine abruptly.

“No, we do not—”

“Yes, you do!” Rebecca said strongly. “But push that aside for just a moment, and this could be a good experiment.” 

You placed your glass down strongly, curiously. “Go on.”

“If he feels for you the way you feel for him, then this is a good way to show it. Might give you both some clarity, because Jesus fucking Christ, I can’t take this back and forth much longer.”

Your defences were on high. “There is no back and forth—”

“Yes, there is! When are you going to grab that fucking hairy man and just kiss him!” 

“Rebecca!” you exclaimed. There was subtle anger in both of your voices, but it was drowned out by the extreme hilarity of the entire situation.

Despite your eyes being wide and your brows being perked wildly, both you and Rebecca had small smiles plastered on your faces that only meant one thing— I love you and I love this. She understood you, and understood your concerns and feelings and all the like, but that didn’t stop her from wanting you to get out and emerge from this funk.

“Just… think about it?” she suggested.

You smiled at her warmly. “This is Roy we’re talking about. He probably wouldn’t even do it.”

“That’s a possibility, for sure. But it’s still worth asking, isn’t it?” 

You tapped your wine glass thoughtfully, before you nodded strongly. “You’re right. I’ll ask him, and if it means we can help you, then it’s worth the emotional embarrassment.”

Rebecca smiled back at you. “And who knows?” she said, with a twinkle in her eye. “It might be fun.”

You raced home from work on Wednesday, and knocked on Roy’s door quickly, a bit after six in the evening. You were late for Fruit Shoot pre drinks, but the tube was to blame. He opened the door strongly and laid a blunt stare in your face.

“You’re late,” he said. 

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“The Fruit Shoots are almost gone,” he said, smiling just a little.

“Then let me in quickly so I can fucking have one!” you exclaimed playfully. Roy let you in, and you slipped off your shoes in record time.

Roy’s house was so familiar to you now. The atmosphere inside made you feel safe and comfortable, and always brought you back to past times when you’d been inside or passing by his road. He strolled in toe next to you as you made your way to the kitchen. There were a number of Fruit Shoots and some snacks on the island as you entered.

“Phoebe!” Roy called as you grabbed a drink, and the pitter patter of feet erupted from the living room and around the corner.

When Phoebe bound towards her uncle you could hardly contain how happy you felt. She was someone special to him, really special, and he’d chosen you to meet her. That must’ve meant you’d done something right, surely?

Phoebe stopped before her uncle, but peered at you in curiosity. “What is it, Uncle Roy?”

“I want you to meet someone,” he said, before the two turned back to you. He placed his hand on her head affectionately, before he met your eye. “Phoebe, this is my friend—”

“Are you the one that wrote that story about my Uncle Roy?” Phoebe cut over him, and you scoffed abruptly from how confident she was at only seven years old. 

You leaned down slightly. “Yes, I am. Has your Uncle Roy talked about me before?”

“All the time!” Phoebe exclaimed, and you peered up at him playfully. Roy growled, embarrassed at his niece spilling all his secrets. “He told me that you wrote a story about him in the newspaper,” she said.

“I did. Lots of people read it.”

“He also told me that he’s annoyed at you because you’re the only person that can tell him when he’s done something bad,” she said it so surely that it caught you off-guard. You scoffed as you straightened out, and shot a playful look at Roy. 

He looked thoroughly embarrassed. His jaw was clenched, and his shoulders were square, and you knew he wanted to yell or hide away in that moment. It only made you laugh even harder, as a few giggles trickled from your mouth. 

“I’m definitely not the only person who tells him off, but I might be the only one he listens to about it,” you said. “Come on, what else has he said about me?” you urged playfully. 

Roy stepped between you and Phoebe. “That’s fucking enough.”

Phoebe gasped suddenly, and your eyes widened. “That’s a bad word, Uncle Roy!”

“Yeah, sorry,” he said, as if he’d apologised for the same thing a thousand times. He probably had. 

“You owe the swear jar a pound!” Phoebe pointed at Roy threateningly, chastising him. 

Roy messed up her bright blonde hair affectionately. “Add it to the rest of the bill.”

After a huge chinese dinner, where you all opened fortune cookies and laughed at the fact Roy got life will get better, just wait in his own, the three of you sat in the living room. Phoebe and you sat on the plush rug in front of the sofa, while Roy took the sofa. He crossed his arms for the duration of Ice Age, staying quiet as you and Phoebe bonded over how funny Sid the sloth was. 

When the baby came on screen, you grimaced immediately. You’d forgotten just how ugly it was. Roy was absolutely right. You twisted yourself around to meet his eye, and furrowed your brows. “You’re right. It’s still so ugly.”

“Told you,” he said, before you turned back around to the TV. Phoebe jumped up onto your lap as you did, and you snuggled her close to your chest as the film continued. 

Behind you, Roy was twitching. Despite only seeing the tops of your heads, and the shake of your shoulders when you laughed, there was something brewing within him when seeing you with his niece. He didn’t often introduce people he knew to her, because of the impact it would have on her when those people could inevitably leave. It had happened with her piece of shit father, and from that moment, Roy had started involving himself even more– just to give his sister a break, just because he loved his family so fucking much. 

Seeing you with her, getting on so well in this way, made him swallow away his deepest wants. In a perfect world, he would have made his way down beside you both on the floor. You would have leaned into him, sharing the weight of the child in your lap, and he would have draped his arm over your shoulder and held you close– but no. 

Roy inhaled a laboured breath, and forced himself to focus on the screen for the rest of the film; knuckles white, body tensed, trying and failing not to feel everything. 

Phoebe was fast asleep by the time the credits rolled. You held her in your arms as Roy got up and switched off the TV, before turning back to you both. You glanced down at Phoebe’s dreaming face as you frowned awkwardly. Roy’s expression was somewhere between stoic and glowing. His jaw clenched when you peered up at him in subtle pleading. 

“What do I do?” you whispered. 

“Fuck all. You’re stuck like that until she wakes up,” he replied, crossing his arms. You gulped away your nerves, looking back at Phoebe in your arms. Roy took his opportunity to smile without you seeing. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you whispered harshly, but you inwardly accepted your fate. You peered back at Roy, and his face flattened. “So, are you just going to stand there?” He shrugged. “Roy!” you whispered strongly. 

That was enough for him to finally crumble. His hard expression faltered and was replaced with the smallest of smiles. He dropped his arms to his sides as he started towards you. “I’m fucking kidding,” he whispered deeply, as he knelt before you. “I’ve got her.”

You would have looked away as Roy picked up his niece if you had the chance. He was soft, and gentle, as he slotted his hands beneath her and hoisted her from your lap easily. He draped her over his shoulder with such care, as her cheek squished sleepily against his shoulder. His hand found her back and stayed there warmly. 

“I’ll tuck her in,” he said, before making his way out of the room and up the stairs.

You stayed put after he left, cleaning up the snacks from the coffee table and straightening out the sofa cushions just from habit. You chucked away empty crisp packets and yoghurt pots, and threw some finished Fruit Shoot bottles in the recycling bin. It was comforting as you familiarly navigated all the cupboards and drawers in Roy’s kitchen. You knew your way around his house very well, and often found yourself jealous of the space. It’s not that you didn’t like your apartment– of course, you did– but Roy’s house was proper. 

It was funny. Without trying at all, you were able to slot yourself alongside Roy here. Living alongside each other, cooking dinners, drinking beers on his back patio, watching shitty movies on the sofa. You slammed another Fruit Shoot bottle in the recycling as a way to snap yourself out of it. No good came from imagining more between you and Roy, especially after everything that had already occurred. 

You let out an angry huff at yourself as you leant upon the kitchen island, looking out towards the dining table. You wracked your fingers through your hair, as your eyes settled upon his bookshelf in all its glory. You enjoyed looking at it, no matter how many times you’d already scoured the overflowing shelves. Squinting, you gently approached the dining table as your eye hit upon something new; something that hadn’t been there previously.

On the middle shelf, right between cards from Phoebe and Roy’s sister, your article had been framed and placed for all to see. At the top, next to the title, was that classic picture of Roy from the first game of football you’d ever seen. His foot was on the ball, his stare hard, his hair trimmed in that robotic way that he’d used to do. 

You couldn’t believe he’d kept it, and framed it, and put it up– all of it. It made your heart thump incessantly in your chest. It made the logical side of your brain completely disappear; the side that told you not to jump, that held you back, that told you not to complicate things. 

“You noticed it, hm?” Roy said suddenly, appearing in the kitchen as you stayed glued in front of the dining table. 

You turned to him, wide-eyed and full of love. “You kept it?”

“‘Course I did,” he said, walking towards you slowly. “It was your big break, and the nicest thing ever fucking written about me. Why wouldn’t I keep it?”

“I don’t know, I just–” you started, but chose to stop part way through. You settled, and smiled. “It’s nice that you did.”

Roy nodded, and growled subtly. Silence trickled over you both, as the obvious tension between you was cemented even further. This always happened when you were alone, together, looking at one another like you were memorising the lines on each other’s faces. 

“Fancy a drink?” Roy asked coarsely. He had to cough slightly to stop his voice from breaking. 

You breathed out deeply. “Yes. Please. Yes please.” You found your voice again, and the tension dissipated slightly as he headed towards the fridge.

You sunk into one of the chairs at the dining table, watching closely as Roy opened the fridge and grabbed two green bottles of beer. It was nice that you didn’t have to say what it was you wanted, didn’t have to even direct, he just knew. He knew you, and you knew him just as well. He popped the tops off both bottles, before sitting down opposite you. He slid you a beer, and your fingers touched his own as he made the pass. It went unsaid, and you ignored your heart in your chest. 

The two of you sipped at your drinks in unison, transcending into a different realm of awkward (and) or sexual tension. It was always this way, this feeling. You’d grown so used to it from being so exposed to being watched, analysed, affectionately stared at, by Roy’s gaze, that you didn’t bat an eye when you looked at him– only to find him already staring at you. 

You squinted at him playfully. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said. 

You raised your drink to your lips. “Fine.” You drank, and let his lingering eyes watch as you gulped back more beer. As you placed your bottle down, you smiled. “Thank you for letting me meet Phoebe.”

“It was about time,” he said, leaning forward. “Like she said– I apparently don’t shut the fuck up about you.” He smiled smally, before the two of your drank in unison, just to fill the happy silence. 

You thought of Rebecca then. Of her strong jaw and broad shoulders and confident strides. If it’d been her, she would have taken matters into her own hands a long time ago. Before Roy’s retirement, before the article, she would have launched herself into this all strongly from the moment he’d invited you for a drink after the charity ball. 

As Rebecca’s gorgeous face shone behind your eyelids, you remebered your lunch. “Oh, fuck,” you muttered suddenly, as you recalled her double date situation. 

“What?” Roy questioned. 

“Well,” you started. You leaned forward to bridge the gap between you, and innately psyched yourself up to broach this idea to him. You couldn’t believe what you were about to ask of him. “Rebecca is seeing a man– John.”

“John,” Roy repeated. 

“And, well,” you said, stalling for time. You grimaced, just for lack of how to even get it all out. “She… well, she–”

“Are you having a fucking stroke or something?” Roy asked, before he slammed his hand over your forehead abruptly, searching for a fever. 

You burst out laughing as soon as he did, and swatted away his fingers. “Jesus Christ, I’m fine!” you exclaimed. 

Roy removed his hand from your head. “Then get to the fucking point!”

“Okay!” you exclaimed, getting worked up. “Rebecca is seeing this man, and she wants her friends’ approval to be sure he’s not a fucking weirdo.” You sucked in a deep breath, and reworded your entire question until it wasn’t one anymore. “You’re going to pretend to be my partner, so we can judge if this guy is a psycho or not.” After you blurted it out, you half expected Roy to scoff. Surely he wouldn’t say yes, surely he would protest, and whine, and sulk, and everything else that his thirty-six year old arse would do when forced into this kind of situation. 

Instead, he stayed still. He stayed calm, and his express didn’t falter. “When is it?” Roy asked. 

“This weekend.”

“Okay,” he said. 

“Okay?” You stared at him, utterly boggled. 

Roy furrowed his brows, as if saying yes was the most obvious answer of all. “Who else would you fucking take? Fucking Ted?” 

You chose not to tell him of your first choice, or of Rebecca’s obvious dislike of the idea. You leaned back in your chair and took a surprised gulp of beer, before clutching the bottle to your chest. “I can’t wrap my head around why you’re fine about this,” you said honestly. “Are you having a fucking stroke?” 

Quickly, you reached your hand out and laid it upon Roy’s forehead, mimicking his earlier behaviour. You thought he’d push you off, or laugh, or copy the way you reacted. When he gently leant into your touch, you froze. 

“I feel just fine,” he said lowly, his stare glued on yours. Gently, he wrapped his fingers around your wrist, and you dropped your palm from his head. Quickly, Roy shuffled his hand so his thumb hit your pulse point. “Are you alright?”

You felt your heart rate accelerate, which meant Roy felt it, too. 

Quickly, you pried your hand out of his grasp, but not before your fingers swiped over each other’s. You moved your hand to your lap, just to avoid staring at it as your mind raced. 

“I’m fine,” you said, despite the fact it was an obvious lie. That’s when Roy’s lips curled into a small smile. “But– great. This is great.” You tried to redirect the conversation to the double date, tried to keep things professional. “Rebecca gets the answers she wants, we get a free meal, and I get to dress in something other than the same five outfits I wear at work every week… but,” you said, tapping your glass anxiously. “We have to pretend to be a couple.”

Roy shrugged. “We’ll live.” He wasn’t ready to admit to you that he knew it would be easy. Maybe you might make it harder, but if all Roy had to do to be convincing was occasionally hold your hand, or sit close to you, or bicker like an old married couple, then he was already there.

You squinted at him, still confused. “You’re seriously okay with this?”

Roy shrugged again, but it was only with the sole intention to have you roll your eyes at him. He succeeded. 

As Saturday approached, it properly dawned on you what was about to happen. You and Roy had to pretend to be together, while simultaneously navigating not just Rebecca, but her newest man, as well. You found yourself wishing that Keeley wasn’t away, but that definitely would have been the easy way out. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to go on a fake double date Roy fucking Kent– that in itself was something that (ashamedly so) made you so fucking excited that it was miracle you’d been able to contain it for the remaining days before the weekend. It wasn’t about the possible awkwardness that you could both feel at having to be noticeably affectionate, or the fumbling fingers that you would both have during those first few tries.

It was about the aftermath. 

It was about the possible shift that could happen as a result of this little charade. It was about the marathon you were already running to keep at bay every single feeling you had for Roy (and the ones he held for you that you had no clue about). It was about being able to leave that table at that restaurant still knowing that everything would be normal and unchanged and not fucking complicated.

That’s what you focused on for the rest of the week, and when Saturday morning turned to afternoon, and when that afternoon turned to early evening, you felt stronger. As you got ready to go into this shitstorm, you were determined not to let all hell break loose. 

Just down the road, Roy pulled a black t-shirt over his head. He paired it with black jeans, the usual, but opted to spray his most expensive cologne over the top— not the usual. It was true that he was excited about this. Just the opportunity to make you blush was enough to make him smile, and after he felt the upbeat pitter patter of your pulse he was beginning to doubt that you harboured no romantic feelings for him. 

Either way, no matter the outcome, he was going to grab hold of this situation by the throat. It was funny; being given the opportunity to be close to you, to imagine being together, and all the rest; but even just being allowed to pretend and put on a show for one evening made him feel satisfied.

Innately, though, he told himself not to go overboard. As much as your pulse had betrayed you, he wasn’t about to put you in an uncomfortable situation for the sake of it. Roy was almost a decade older than you, he harboured experience galore— what with being an ex-star footballer— but he still knew you weren’t the time to fuck around.

He glanced at his watch; he had a little under an hour before he was due to pick you up. This evening was certainly going to be one he’d remember for a while, even if he ended up wanting to fucking forget all about it by the end. 

Roy’s Jeep pulled up outside your flat. You heard it from your living room window, and quickly slung a small bag over your shoulder before leaving through your door. Roy cut off the engine before he jumped from the driver’s seat. As he rounded his car, the squeak of your building door sounded. He peered up, and what met his gaze was only the first step of his night fully starting. 

As you shut the door behind you, your dress blew up to just past your knees. Compared with the charity ball, you’d opted to wear a jacket over it in this cold, which almost made Roy laugh to himself. You descended the steps as he took a relaxed stance by the passenger side door, and when you finally glanced his way, he was already looking at you. This was a running theme, you thought, catching Roy’s eye, only to find him already looking at you gently. 

“Hey,” you said, slightly breathlessly from the cold but also from him. You trickled your gaze over his body. He wore nothing different than normal, his usual combo of black on black, but this time it felt different. It was oddly reminiscent of the night of the charity ball, a year ago now, but with a slight twist.

You felt older, you knew each other better, and that unspoken tension hadn’t cropped up until later that fateful night. Now, everything was different. But in the best way. 

“Hey,” Roy said lowly, his voice gravelly. “Ready to go?”

You nodded sweetly, smiling at him as you stood face to face. You inhaled, and as you did, his cologne hit your nose. You had to ignore how fucking good he smelled, even more so when you both clambered into the car.

A few minutes into the journey, Roy cleared his throat. “So,” he started, and you sensed some trepidation in his tone that made you look at him slyly. “This double date thing… how far are we taking it?”

Abruptly, you choked on your own spit. You coughed loudly and turned towards the window, until the tickle in your throat finally ceased. “What?” you croaked, panicking. Roy smiled to himself quickly, before he clenched his jaw forcefully. 

“This guy, Jim, or whatever. He thinks we’re an item, right?” Roy continued. 

You furrowed your brows at him curiously. “Yes.”

“So, how far are we taking this fake relationship shit?” Roy asked again. 

Your heart plummeted into your stomach. “I don’t fucking know.” You tried to act casual and unbothered. It was fucking difficult. “Far enough for it to be believable, I guess.”

“So,” Roy said. “Can I hold your hand?” 

You swallowed. “Yeah, obviously.” You kept your eyes ahead of you, but could feel Roy’s stare hit your profile every few seconds, only when he wasn’t looking at the road. 

“Okay,” he said. “Can I touch your waist, or– I don’t know– your thigh under the table, or some shit?” Roy attempted to lace stoicism within his words. He didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, but he also wanted to know what he could and couldn’t do. Just for clarity, just so you were on the same page. 

You glanced out the window, looking away from him. You didn’t want him to see the warmth that had appeared on your cheeks. It was a miracle he couldn’t hear the butterfly wings that ravaged your stomach. “I don’t see why not.”

“Alright, fine,” Roy said, clearing his throat afterwards. His knuckles had turned white on the steering wheel. 

You sucked in a deep breath, but all it did was remind you of his cologne. “Anything else?” you asked assumptively, tensing yourself involuntarily. 

Roy stopped the car at a red light. “Yeah,” he said sharply, turning to you strongly. You turned to look at him, too, catching his eye with as much confidence you could muster. “Can I kiss you?” 

You stopped breathing. The urge to look at Roy’s lips was unavoidable. You wanted to stay calm, to stay cool, to stay composed, so your initially thought answer of yes, God, yes had to be contained on this occasion. You’d spent three days internally preparing yourself for this, but as soon as Roy started asking his questions your walls practically crumbled. His prying had a feeling behind it, intent, and you knew Roy well enough by now to know that he wouldn’t ask these things lightly. That was the first hurdle to jump over. 

The next– the way he was looking at you made you want to abandon your evening with Rebecca and John altogether. If it were up to you, you’d tell him to pull over the car on any desolate street he could find, just so you could finally give in to this silly crush. It was obvious this wasn’t just you anymore, that this small unspoken thing had developed further inside both of you, until it had left you in this fucking situation. 

A fake date, with real feelings. What a fucking nightmare. 

“I–” you started, but couldn’t get another word out as Roy’s gaze darted to your lips and back. 

Oh, the fucking bastard. He was good, really good, and he knew it, too. Was this what he did with the Spice Girls? Because it was fucking working. It was enough to make you want to spill everything, to not hold back any longer. 

“Roy.” You breathed out. 

He looked at you so softly. “Yeah?” he said lowly. 

“I need to tell you something–”

The shrill boom of a car horn from behind made you gasp. Roy twisted himself abruptly to the windshield, and the light that once was red was now green again. The car honked its horn once more, and Roy let out a growl. “I’m going, you fucking twat!” he yelled, before smashing his foot down on the accelerator. 

And just like that, the conversation had to take another back seat. You still had parts to play, and hearts to bear, and lots and lots of wine to fucking drink. 

CHAPTER TWELVE

Tag list: @atjamesbbarnes @20th-centu-fairy-girl @royalestrellas @weakmoony-stuff @ironmanmagnetfridge @lemonpiegurll @hellomagicalsouls @her-fandom-sanctum @gothicwidowsworld @old-enough-to-know-better73 @djarindroid @afraidofshrimp @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog @queen-of-dumbasses @sogoodtoheritsvicious @lznnph1l @crav1ngc4ke @onceuponaoneshot @jamieolivia27 @dadbodfanatic-x @kelp-dreaming @harrypedro465 @lonely-escape-artist @abeeabeeabee @nicklet94 @libsybum @cha0sdreaming @toomany24s @kashee-h@infinetlyforgotten @secretnook @cluelesslilsharkie @callmecasey81 @deepdarkvelvet @twiceinabluemoon @cardeegans @golden-hoax @kingleahhh @hoalkk1 @sunderland-6 @ellouisa17 @thesestrangerslikeme @elissaaa @scrumptiousroadponymoney @confessionsofatotaldramaslut @ysmmsy @seacactusplant @pedritosgirl2000 @loveslide @ryleyrooroo @hanybunch @tweasley20 @witchyanya-7 @sareim123122 @jaymum @lwritesstuff 

[tojiscumdumpster]

CHAPTER EIGHT - READER

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀✧ summary page

 Today has literally sucked every single last bit of energy I had left inside of me. Dark coffee with six packets of sugar and a fruit bowl could not have prepared me for the day I had. 

 I’m not sure if it’s because I stayed up late last night to put together lessons or how active my students have been during classes, but a bottle of wine is well needed right now. 

 Days like this make me want to quit my job and move out of the country. Usually, I would feel this way if I was teaching elementary school kids. Not high schoolers. 

 Sometimes they refuse to listen to you. Somehow, they magically forget about their homework, so they beg for an extension. And a lot of times they talk while they’re supposed to be silent reading. 

 It’s overwhelming being a teacher. Anyone who does it, is simply for the passion because the pay isn’t the greatest. 

  Thank goodness for my savings. 

 Anyways.

 I’m ready to go home. This parent-teacher conference is going on longer than expected, and it absolutely has nothing to do with the divorced single dad in front of me that won’t stop flirting. 

 Cons of being a younger teacher. Dads. Lots of them. Some are handsome, but I didn’t become a teacher to be hit on while trying to discuss their child’s grades and curriculum. 

 “Mr. Anderson, your son has been falling behind in class,” I begin. “He’s been on his phone lately and tends to talk over students while they're reading.”

 “I see. I’ll be sure to talk to him about that, Mrs. L /N.”

 I give him a tight smile— “Miss, —” correcting him. “Any other questions? I believe we discussed enough these past ninety minutes.”

  Even though the conferences are expected to last only thirty minutes, max, forty-five . 

 “Apologies thought a woman as attractive as yourself would be married,” he says with a smile that might’ve been charming if I was drunk, but right now—it makes me cringe. 

 I nod. “Well, I appreciate your compliment, Mr. Anderson. If there’s nothing else, then I do have to go-”

 “Dinner?”

 “Excuse me?” I stuttered. 

 He lets out a nervous laugh. “Sorry. That was my failed attempt at asking you out to dinner.”

 And here I thought I almost had him out the door. Like I said, some of the dads are attractive. I can’t deny that about Mr. Anderson. Tall. Smooth skin. Nice smile. Salt and pepper hair action going on. I would say he’s probably in his mid-forties. 

 However, I’m not interested in building a roster full of DILFs to keep in my bucket whenever I need sexual relief. 

 One should suffice.

 “Mr. Anderson, although I’m flattered, it’s best to keep this professional. I don’t want to get involved with my student’s father that way. So, I’ll have to decline.” What a hypocrite I am . “Come, I’ll see you out.”

 He gets up and follows me to the door. The woman in me knows he’s staring at my ass right now, so I turn to my side. And of course, I caught him in action. 

 “Apologies if I made you uncomfortable, Miss L /N.”

 “Apologies accepted. Enjoy the rest of your day,” I tell him, sounding sarcastic as ever. 

 Actually, two bottles of wine are much needed. 

 After two more excruciating hours at school, I eventually made it home. I think to myself one day I’ll leave work before it hits four, but I guess that’s inevitable when you’re an overachieving teacher like me. 

 To prepare myself for the next day, I usually stay later than usual to lay out all my lessons. However, I think it’s time for me to use one weekend to plan a month’s worth of lessons so I can stop staying so late. 

 Isn’t this what I complained to Nanami about? I remembered being tired of him staying after hours or bringing work to our home when all I wanted to do was read a book and lay under him. 

 It seems like his habits grew onto me. 

  The irony. 

 Probably if I had someone to come home to, I wouldn’t be thinking about work after I clocked out. Being single and thirty isn’t the worst thing ever, but I honestly thought I would’ve been settled down by now.

 That was the plan with Nanami. 

 I still can’t believe the nerve he had the other day during brunch. To ask me if we could try again after I already gave him two chances? Like I would ever sacrifice my happiness just so he could get his shit together. 

 My patience is high but not to that extent, and I refuse to wait for anyone to love me properly. I just hated that it had to be that way with Nanami. 

 We felt right together. He loved me. Made me feel beautiful. Extremely kind and gentle with me. I was one of those girlfriends that would “ my boyfriend” people to death because he made me happy. 

 Our way of meeting was such a cliché and it convinced me we were going to last forever. It’s only right to feel that way in a five-year relationship. 

 But after a while, what Nanami and I built became dull. Our relationship felt more like a chore than love between two people. It was transactional in a way that benefited him more than it did me. I didn’t want that anymore. 

 I didn’t want to become a wife and bring a child into the world with the possibility of being a single mother in a marriage. Nanami knew how much I wanted to start a family together, but he chose his principal duties over us. 

 I deeply sigh. “See what happens when you drink wine, Y/N,” whispering to myself. 

 Gosh, I shouldn’t even be drinking on a school night. I check my phone to not only see that it's eight-thirty, but also to be left with no new messages or missed phone calls from…

  Toji . 

 He’s had my number since yesterday, however, I have yet to hear from him. I mean, which is understandable. He works a late night job and has a fifteen-year-old son, so I’m not first of his priorities. Though, it would be nice to hear from him. 

 Thinking about Toji Fushiguro makes me feel like a high school girl who’s excited that her crush finally notices her. His gruffness, demeanor, how he carries himself. . . It’s different. I’ve had my fair share of relationships in the past before Nanami, but I’ve never come across a man like Toji. 

 At least, I don’t think so.

 A complete stranger Toji is to me yet the comfort he gives me is weird. Weird in a good way. I can only imagine how it’ll be the more we learn about each other. That’s if he doesn’t back out. 

 Only time will tell. 

 It’s time for me to go to sleep. If I stay up any longer, I’ll finish this bottle of wine and throw my mind into a frenzy for the rest of the night. But the minute I slipped into bed, my phone rang. 

 A number that I’m not familiar with calls me and I’m left to believe it’s only one person.

 “Hello?” 

 “. . . Hey .” I know that voice from anywhere. Deep, soothing, and spreads chills across my body. 

 “Mr. Fushiguro. Calling me after school hours? I’m not on the clock, you know?” I tease. 

 He chuckles, a little more faint than usual, but still a sound I enjoy hearing. “Remember you saying I can use your number however I please.”

 “I did say that didn’t I?” I can’t help but smile and stay up a few minutes extra to talk to Toji. “What’s up, big guy? You okay?”

  “Sounds like I’m not?”

 “A little.”

 He hums. “ I see. . . How was your day? ”

 It’s clear there’s something on Toji’s mind, but I’ll listen to him when he’s ready. 

 “It was… long. Draining,” I answer. “I was close to pulling my hair out.”

 “ Want to talk about it? ”

 I sit up in my bed.  “It’s just work being work. Not much to say that won’t cause you to get tired of hearing me talk.”

 The laugh he lets out this time has a little more life in it. “ I called you to hear you talk. . . Your voice is calming. ”

  He says things like this and expects me not to feel warm inside?

 “You need some calming?” I query. 

 “. . . Maybe .” 

 “Tell me, Toji.”

 I can only picture Toji staring into nowhere to see if he wants to open up to me or not. Whatever he shares, I’ll take it and offer my comfort. 

 He sighs. “ Was trying to have small talk with the kid about school and I guess that annoyed him. ”

 “What did he say?” I asked, knitting my brows together. 

 “ That he wanted to eat in silence, so he went to his room. ” 

 “He’ll come around.”

 Toji snorts. “ Yeah, I hope so. Took him school shopping earlier and he didn’t even want to be seen with me. ”

 “Did he tell you that?”

 “. . . No, I just assumed .”

 Although Toji isn’t physically here, I give him a reassuring smile like he could see me. “Assumptions will lead you to spiral. Next time try to be around him while keeping a comfortable distance,” I tell him. “I doubt it’s because he doesn’t want to be seen with you. I mean, Megumi is an exact replica of your face. It’s not like he can hide that you’re his dad.”

 “ You’re good with your words, Y/N. ”

 “I’m good at a lot of things, Mr. Fushiguro.” My tone came off way more suggestive than I expected but fuck it. I’ll blame the wine. 

 It’s like I can hear the smile on his face. “ You can’t say shit like that while calling me Mr. Fushiguro and expect me not to get turned on. ”

 “And what if that was my intention? Maybe to help get your mind off of things?”

 “ I can think of other ways for you to help. ”

 “You called me for some late night action?” I begin baiting. “What’s next? You’re going to ask me what I’m wearing?”

 “. . .  No... Well, if you want to share- ”

 I giggle, cutting him off. “Toji, anyways.” Hearing Toji genuinely laugh makes me feel better because I know how much mending his relationship with Megumi means to him. “I think you should continue with what you’re doing. I don’t know much about Megumi, but he seems like a kid that has to warm up. Even if you’re his dad, after years of neglect, comfort isn’t automatic because you’re blood. When he feels it, you’ll know.”

 “You’re right.”

 “Your mind feels cleared?” I try to contain my yawn, but it slips outs. I don’t want Toji to think he’s keeping me up because hearing from was actually the highlight of my day.

 “ After this walk and talking to you? Yeah. ” 

 “Don’t think it’s too late for you to be walking?” 

 “ Worried about me, Y/N? ” He asks, and I can hear the playfulness in his tone.

 I shrug. “Maybe. You’re a big boy, though. I’m sure you can take care of yourself.”

 “ I’m glad you know. ”

 I admire the comfortable silence Toji and I have sometimes whenever we talk. In a way, and hopefully he feels the same, it’s like we’re soaking in each other’s energy. And maybe Toji does feel the same since he decided to call when he needed help clearing his mind. 

 “ I’m keeping you up, Miss L /N? ”

 “Hm, I don’t mind giving you some of my time,” I pick on. “Just next time, schedule a conference.”

 He keeps the banter, saying, “ I’ll be sure to do that. . . I’ll let you go, though. Need your energy saved for Friday. ”

 “You’re going to put me to work on our date?”

 “ You’ll see, ” he says, smiling. “ And Y/N? ”

 I yawn again. “Yeah?”

 “ Thank you. ” An explanation of his admission isn’t needed. I know exactly why he’s thanking me. “ Night .”

 “Good night, big guy.”

 After we disconnect, I smile and internally feel giddy inside. It’s almost embarrassing how Toji makes me feel. I can’t help myself. 

 Going to sleep will be easier these next few days knowing I have something to look forward to on Friday. 

 As I described before, Toji Fushiguro will definitely be a beautiful catalyst that I’m excited to see. 

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

discussion question #4 — reader has made it clear that she doesn't want to reconcile any romantic relationship with nanami anymore, do you think he will become an issue to reader and toji's developing relationship as the story progresses?

[anamoon63]

Hi guys, I am writing this in case anyone wonders why I have been kind of MIA lately. No, I haven't forgotten you, but I have had a difficult week, more than a difficult week, I have been through a real ordeal. Where or how it started it's a long story which I don't have the time or the energy to tell, so I'll just share a brief chronology of what happened during this past week.

Friday May 3 - I turned in my finished work and set out to do my sims posts, play and rest for the weekend since more work would be coming my way on Monday.

Saturday May 4 - My husband came down with the flu, I spent most of the day with him in the emergency room.

Sunday May 5 - I spent it taking care of my husband, who fortunately no longer had a fever. I barely slept two hours at night giving care and medication.

Monday 6 May - My birthday, we couldn't go out for dinner as usual, so we celebrated at home.

Tuesday, May 7 - My son comes down with the flu, too, another afternoon in the ER and sleepless night caring for him and bringing down his fever.

Wednesday, May 8 - My son starts to feel better, and begins to recover very quickly. I start working on the following translations, at the same time I take care of both my husband and my sick son, do food, laundry, order home medicines, and all kinds of small chores, including disinfecting things. It's like going back to 2020.

Thursday, May 9 - My husband no longer has a fever but does have a cough that won't go away and minor problems with his asthma.

Friday, May 10 - Mother's Day, my son was feeling fine, my husband still had a cough, and had a doctor's appointment at noon, when he returned, we celebrated at home just like on my birthday, I spent the rest of the day working, and juggling a thousand other things. In the evening my daughter started to feel sick, but still no fever.

Saturday, May 11 (yesterday) - My daughter woke up with a fever, another visit to the ER. She was prescribed flu medicine, painkillers and rest, and sent home.

And that's my odyssey so far. On top of it all, from Wednesday through Saturday we were in the middle of a heat wave with temperatures of 37ºC with real feel of up to 45ºC; at night we get a "cooler" temperature of 29ºC. So imagine a person with a fever of 38 ºC and with this heat, obviously it's not of much help.

Surprisingly, I haven't gotten sick so far, but I'm not claiming victory. I have been taking care of my family for a week, sleeping two or three hours a night, getting up at different times to check on them, or give them medicine. I don't have time for getting sick! Lol. Thankfully, everyone is better and last night for the first time in a week I was able to sleep straight through. Honestly, I don't need many hours of sleep, but I am routinely and usually I am in bed a 11 pm and up at 8 am every day, so all this did upset my sleep cycle a little bit.

Anyway, that is the reason why I wasn't here much, since the whole day I was too busy, and at night I was so tired all I wanted was to go to bed. I apologize if I've fallen behind on your updates, I'm not ignoring you in any way, I just didn't have the strength or the time, not even to play The Sims. If I did, it was just a little free play to distract myself.

Last week I told you that I was juggling a lot of things, well now I have even more things, lol, at times I feel really exhausted, and even a little cranky from lack of sleep, the first few days my feet and legs hurt so much from going back and forth, but I'm fine, healthy, and in good spirits. Today I believe, as never before, that the universe does not send you more than you can handle.

At this point my family is already in recovery, if I don't get sick too, it's likely by I'll be able to get back to my simming routine. Now, if I do get sick, I hope to recover as quickly as the others. Whatever happens, I'll be around. Know that, even if I don't comment, I read you, and I am with you, especially with those who are going through difficult times of any kind.

Ok, I said to myself this was going to be a short post, but I made a wall of text instead (for a change). My apologies if it's written in a sloppy or confusing way, I just wanted to write it quickly to let you know where I have been and what has been going on with me these days. I hope you are all well, please take care of yourselves, health is a treasure that can be lost at any moment, the flu is a nasty disease, we must never let our guard down and forget to take the necessary measures to prevent it.

Last, but not least, I want to thank all of you who have mentioned me, tagged me, sent me asks and/or stars to my inbox, commented and/or liked what few posts I could do these days, I appreciate it very much and I'll try to reply to you as soon as I can, though I've fallen so far behind that I don't know if I'll be able to find your mentions in my notifications. In any case, thank you very, very much to all of you for thinking about me in my absence. 💗 I'll see you soon, hopefully, with more sim adventures, stay tuned!

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

HERE, KITTY, KITTY (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Aizawa x Black!Catgirl!Reader

Synopsis: In which you find yourself in the weirdest predicament after you’re scooped up and taken to a cat cafe after you decide to take the streets to fight some crime, and you’re adopted by your very anti-social and hot coworker Aizawa aka Eraserhead.

Story Warnings: Smutty Smut, 18+ (MINORS GET AWAY), Swearing, Adult!Reader, Ear and Tail Stroking, Light Degradation, Spanking, Exhibitionism, Multiple Positions, Creampie, Unprotected PIV Sex, Facial, Scent Play, Collaring, Deepthroat, Cunnlingus, Begging, Edgeplay, Power Play, Rope Play/Shibari, Master Kink, Some Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Some Action

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: I wanna have Aizawa's kids. That is all. -Jazz

Read on AO3 here!

Other Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Twenty-Four. Twenty-Five.

*********

FOUR.

When the holy Sunday makes its grand arrival, Aizawa is up early and going hard in the faculty dorms’ gym.

He usually is up past 6 AM to get started with his gym regime, starting with weights and bench presses, doing several rounds of cardio, and then ending with a cool-down session to stretch out his tired muscles.

He likes coming here in the early mornings on weekends especially since no one is up yet and he has free range of the machines offered in the little gym. 

It also gives him time to focus hard on his exercise and training–something other than you. He ends his gym round earlier than usual though due to some plans later today that involve a very special girl. 

When he finally finishes stretching out his tired limbs from hours of squats, weight-lifting, and running on the cardio, he takes a cool towel that is offered near the door, sitting in a mini fridge along with orange slices and water bottles. Then, as he uncaps his Hydro Flask of water, he walks out of the private gym to head back to his dorms. 

As he makes it upstairs, he doesn’t count on seeing Nemuri standing at his door, looking distressed and not at all her bright and bushy-tailed self. Aizawa’s stomach drops immediately, all the positivity he was feeling prior to leaving the gym gone.

“Nemuri?” he asks, immediately hurrying over to her. 

She turns to him and he sees that she’s been crying–her eyes are wet and red. “Oh, Shouta!” she shouts, immediately meeting him across the hall. “Thank Goodness, you’re here! I tried calling you, but you never answered so I just came up to see you.” 

“I keep my phone off when I’m in the gym,” Aizawa explains, worried about her. She looks awful–she is still in her lacey camisole and shorts along with specialty-made Mirko the Rabbit Hero slippers; her hair is limp and unkempt, the usual bounce of lively curls not in them.

“What’s goin’ on?” he asks, concerned. Was there a villain attack? Is it one of the students or their friends? Maybe something is wrong with Mic? His anxiety begins to take over his body, causing his heartbeat to accelerate. 

“Have you seen Y/N anywhere since last night?” Nemuri questions, desperation in her eyes. His eyebrows furrow in confusion. “No, not since Friday,” he answers after backtracking his week. “Why? Is she okay?” 

“I can’t find her!” Nemuri sobs. Now Aizawa’s anxiety is through the fucking roof. You’re missing? “What do you mean you can’t find her?” he asks. “Doesn’t she live on the same floor as you?” 

“Yes, but she never came home last night,” Nemuri continues, getting increasingly more upset the more she talks. “She never told me where she was going, but she always texts me any time she gets back into her dorm at night. When I called this morning, she never answered, so I went to visit her and…”

She pauses, her lip trembling. “She wasn’t here!” she wails. “Oh, what if she’s in trouble? What if she’s hurt? What if–” 

“Okay, okay, relax,” Aizawa soothes her, putting a hand on her shoulder. But even he can’t soothe himself–the anxious roiling in his stomach is a testament to how worried he is of you now. He didn’t know you went out at night like that. “Is this a regular thing for her to do?” he asks.

Nemuri nods, lashes wet and bottom lip quivering. “Then if that’s the case, she probably got caught up with something or maybe her phone died.” 

“I’m just so worried for her, Shouta,” Nemuri sighs, looking like she may faint. “I know the campus is relatively safe for us staff, but outside of here is a different story!” 

Aizawa goes to say more to try and comfort his friend, but the beep on his phone stops him. He looks down, finding the reminder he set for his plans today: pick up Eri for lunch.

He sighs, pocketing his phone. “Look, I gotta go,” he says, squeezing Nemuri’s hand. “I’ll keep an eye out for Y/N and let you know if I see her, but if she does this normally, she’s a big girl and can take care of herself.” 

Nemuri nods and thanks him with a tight hug before she walks down the hallway to the elevator, quiet sobs leaving her mouth as she does. Aizawa’s heart sinks for his friend, and at the fact that you’re possibly missing.

Though he knows you’re a big girl and doesn’t know you from a can of paint except for you being a counselor, a college graduate, and an animal hybrid, he can’t help but feel highly concerned for your safety. Especially for a pretty thing like you. The streets can be hostile, especially at night. 

He does his best to push the anxiety-fueled thoughts aside as he goes about his day. Once he’s inside his dorm, he strips himself of his tracksuit pants, loose tank, and sweat-soaked boxers, revealing his sweaty muscles touched with bruises and scars that have healed over the years.

After tossing them in the laundry basket in his closet, he steps into the bathroom to take a much-needed hot shower. He groans in pleasure as the hot water hits his tired, aching muscles; a nice reward for a great workout. 

Afterward, he changes into a black tee and jeans to pair with his leather jacket and kicks. As he walks out of his bedroom to head out, he passes the closed bedroom door of the very special guest he’s had the honor of calling his own for the past year. A fond, adoring smile crosses his lips, the urge to see her pushing him to move his ass. 

It only takes a walk across campus to the student dorms to make it to Hitoshi’s dorm. When he knocks, the tall, lanky yet muscled junior opens the door, looking extremely tired. Aizawa puts a finger to his lips, silencing Hitoshi, before slinking into his dorm and standing in the middle of the floor. 

On Hitoshi’s couch sits his little Eri, vigorously coloring in her favorite pink sweater with a purple cat face on it and striped stockings, her off-white locks pinned back with barrettes that were probably Mirio’s doing to show off her cute little horn.

When she looks up with those big crimson eyes Aizawa loves so much, she gasps. “Daddy!” she shouts as if she hasn’t seen him in years when in reality, it’s only been two days. 

Ever since Aizawa agreed to do night patrols again, he’s been letting Eri stay in Hitoshi’s dorm to make sure she’s supervised. Eri proclaimed Hitoshi as her “stepbrother” since she first came to UA after being rescued from Overhaul. The entire school took a liking to her, leading to most of the students proclaiming themselves as her bodyguards. 

Aizawa isn’t much better. Ever since he volunteered to care for Eri as she got acclimated to her new environment and to help her with her powers, he’s grown attached to the little girl. Now, he looks at the girl as his. 

His little girl. His daughter. And nobody ever harms or touches what’s his. 

“Hey, you,” he coos, filled with warmth when Eri runs to him and throws her little body into his arms. He squeezes her tight, nuzzling his nose into her white hair. “How’s my favorite girl, hm?” He looks around Hitoshi’s dorm, noticing the crayons littering his couch and the open box of Fruit Loops in his kitchen.

“Drivin’ me crazy,” the lavender-haired boy sighs. “She wouldn’t stop talking about this cat cafe you’re supposedly taking her to later.” 

Aizawa glances down at a very excited Eri and pulls away to give her a stern look. “Eri,” he criticizes. “What did we talk about? No annoying Hitoshi when he’s watching you.” 

Eri continues to wiggle excitedly, her smile infectious. “Sorry, Daddy,” she whines. “I’m just so excited! Koa's Purrr Palace and Cafe is my favoritest place in the world!”

Aizawa practically dies from her utter cutest. “Alright, you get a pass today, but only ‘cause it’s your birthday and you’re so darn cute.” He pokes her nose, earning a giggle. 

He helps Eri clean up her things and packs them away in her leapfrog backpack before they head to the door, hand in hand. “Thanks, Shinso. I’ll take it from here.” Hitoshi nods, leaning against the door frame as Aizawa passes him $50 for his services. “See you, Eri,” he calls to the girl as he shuts the door. 

“Bye, ‘Toshi!” Eri yells back in her cute little voice. She then looks up at Aizawa, her hand in his. “Can we go now, Daddy? Can we go now pleeeeease?” 

Aizawa could gobble her up with how cute she is. How anyone could harm such an innocent soul is beyond him. “Alright, alright,” he sighs, defeated, “but be on your best behavior.” Eri squeals in excitement as they walk together out of the dorms and into the spring sun. 

Koa’s Purrr Palace & Cafe is by far one of Eri’s favorite places to exist in Musutafu. Aizawa will admit that the place is cute as hell: it serves as a rescue center for stray cats in the city and a cafe that serves the best coffee and sandwiches Aizawa has ever had.

He found it by accident one day and didn’t know it was a cat cafe until he walked inside and the smallest tabby he’d ever seen tried to bite his boots. 

“Koshi, cut it out!” Koa, the little old lady who owns the place, had sternly told the kitten. “No biting the guests!” She had offered Aizawa a free coffee and a $15 gift card as an apology, which led him to come back with Eri on the weekends. They’ve been regulars to the point where Koa and the staff know them by name. 

As soon as they step into the cafe, Aizawa is hit with the scent of roasted coffee beans and the sweet aroma of baked bread that makes his stomach growl. One employee is busy serving two middle school girls their crepes while two other employees are cleaning the area, and wiping off tables and booths.

Aizawa swears he’s never seen so many cats in his life–everywhere he looks, there’s one lounging on a chair or playing in their cat tower, tiny meows filling the air. 

If he could adopt all of them, he would. 

Eri is in her world. Her big eyes flick from side to side of the room, drinking in the sight of cats galore. “Kitties!” she shouts a little too loudly, alerting one of the employees.

“Oh, Eri and Mr. Aizawa!” she greets them happily. “You’re just in time! Koa is in the back, but she told me to let you know we got a shipment for ice cream if you want our signature purrr parfaits.” 

Eri gapes happily at her at the sound of her favorite parfaits. “Yes, please!” she enthusiastically replies, making the employee laugh.

“We’ll take two, thanks,” Aizawa patiently replies, taking Eri’s hand. “And tell Koa thank you. C’mon, Eri; let’s sit down so the employees can do their jobs.” 

They do so, taking a seat at a table near a cat tower where they watch two kittens play with each other, Eri giggling at them. A few minutes later, a short, old woman with silver-white hair cropped to her shoulders steps out from the back. She smiles at the sight of Aizawa and Eri. “Ah, there are my favorite customers!” she happily greets them. 

“Hi, Ms. K!” Eri giggles, now petting one of the kittens. She’s gentle and careful as the kitten rubs its head into her hand. Aizawa could die from the cuteness. 

“Good afternoon, Shouta,” Koa says, smiling down at him. “Still no girl on your arm?”

Aizawa blushes beneath his scarves, doing his best to hide his face. “Koa, you know I’m too busy to date with this one in my hair.” He nods at Eri who is now playing with three other kittens, flinging a feathered toy around. 

“That’s no excuse!” Koa playfully argues. “I happen to know many fine-looking young women who love single dads.”

Once again, Aizawa turns a bright red and adverts his eyes, making the old lady laugh. He swears that every single person he knows asks him why he isn’t in a relationship yet. It isn’t like he’s against the dating scene, but between caring for Eri, teaching his classes, working as a pro, and feening over you, Aizawa knows he’s too busy to date. 

“Well, being tied up with your little girl is all the more reason to find a nice lady to help you out,” Koa chuckles. “Or you could always just visit here. Animals make great company; especially as pets. Our adoption rates have just been shooting through the roof lately.” 

Eri whips around, her white hair flying. “Pets?” she asks, wide-eyed. “You mean we can adopt the kitties here too?!”

Koa gives a bellied laugh while Aizawa shakes his head. “Eri, we’ve gone over this: no animals are allowed in the dorms. You know that Nezu is paranoid.” Eri gives him a cute little scowl, her bottom lip poking. “No pouting either,” Aizawa sternly says. 

As stubborn as the girl is, Eri knows the rules. Principal Nezu is serious about dorm rules, especially having pets. Aizawa can understand since Nezu is a mouse–every animal is scary to him, but cats? That’s probably a nightmare.

“Aww, it’s okay, Eri, dear,” Koa laughs. “Nothing a good parfait and some playtime can’t cure.” 

Koa winks at the little girl as one of the employees comes to their table holding two delicious-looking parfaits: vanilla ice cream and spongey cake at the bottom of the glasses topped with whipped cream, strawberries, waffle cones, and chocolate syrup that drizzles over the glass rims. Eri thanks the employee as she grabs hers, already digging in.

“Go on and have fun!” Koa urges, motioning around the cafe like it’s Eri’s playpen…which it is. 

For the next fifteen minutes, Aizawa watches Eri as she runs around the cafe while Koa and the employees work, serving others drinks and tending to the cats.

During this, Aizawa spends time eating his parfait, scrolling through his phone, and letting one of the cats toy with his scarf. ‘So damn cute,’ he thinks, cursing Nezu for that stupid pet rule. He wouldn’t mind having a cat around his dorm to keep him company since dating is out of the question right now. 

“Oh, they’re so cute!” Eri suddenly squeals. “Daddy, look at this one!” 

Aizawa looks up, finding his daughter standing at the cat cages off to the side. A sign posted on the wall states that they are all available for playtime and adoptions. Eri is busy staring into the cage of a teeny black cat curled up on a plush blanket, sleeping soundly.

“Eri,” he sighs, striding over to the overexcited child, “leave the cat alone. It’s sleeping right now, so…” 

But as he gets closer and closer to the cat, his words die in his throat. He doesn’t understand why or what kind of feeling he’s feeling as he stares down at it, but it renders him speechless.

“Oh, her!” Koa says from the back counter, wiping down some spilled coffee. “She came in last night. Poor baby had an injured paw when I found her, so I brought her in.”

She tuts at the kitty. “She must’ve been exhausted; she’s been sleeping the whole day.” 

Aizawa continues to stare wordlessly at the cat, a warm feeling tingling inside of him. It’s just a regular-looking, short-haired black cat with one of its paws wrapped in a bandage, but Aizawa can’t help but feel like there is something more to the kitty; something special. He stares at it and feels as if he’s met this specific cat before. 

Realizing how he probably looks right now–like an idiot–, he quickly steers Eri away from the cage. “Let’s not bother her, baby,” he gently says. “Let’s play with the two down here. They look lively.”

He points down at the cage where two long-haired kittens are wrestling with each other, tiny mews filling the air. 

“Can we, Ms. Koa?!” Eri excitedly asks, bouncing on her feet. 

Koa is already walking over with a key to unlock the cage. “Of course, dear,” she giggles. “Just don’t wear yourself out too much before you eat the rest of your parfait.” 

Aizawa swears he's never seen a kid so excited for some damn cats. 

[ros3ybabe]

Daily Check-in - July 27, 2023 🎀

Today was easier than yesterday, but I am still so sleepy and tired. I have to work a full shift tomorrow AND Saturday on top of my weekend chores so I'm hoping to take Sunday as a full self care day! Fingers crossed!!

🩷 What I Ate Today:

Breakfast - One slice of toast with mashed avocado, paprika, a fried egg, and a side of watermelon, and one cup of coffee.

Lunch - ground beef burrito bowl with black beans, shredded cheese, chopped iceberg lettuce, sour cream, salsa, and a low carb tortilla.

Dinner - One plate of spaghetti with meat marinara sauce, grated parmesean cheese, and two pieces of buttered bread

Other - One cup of coffee with French vanilla creamer

Water ~ 30oz I just forgot to drink water today, but using my water bottle has gotten easier and helped me drink more during the work day.

I didn't feel like snacking much today, and I couldn't finish my lunch, but I am very satisfied with my intake today! I love eating healthier and listening to my body. I do track what I eat, but I make sure it's food I like! Given my past, I can't do restrictions, so I choose to honor my wants in a way that works towards my goals and nourishes both my mind and body.

🩷 Workout - Upper Body Pilates (ish)

This one was really good! It was my first time trying it and it had my arms burning in a good way. I really enjoyed it, and I totally recommend. This is definitely going to be a regular of mine! 10/10

This one has been a favorite for a few years, I absolutely love the way it makes my arms feel. The movements are easy and effective, and leave me sore in a good way. Absolutely my favorite lean arms workout, hands down! 11/10

🩷 Habits I Completed Today:

Made my bed

Morning & Night Skincare

Morning & Night Guided Journal

Read 1 Chapter of a book

Workout

I forgot to do my mediation and stretching, and I didn't meet my hydration goal, but I'm taking every day in stride and doing what my energy allows me to accomplish. I believe in self compassion and flexibility in routine, especially given how my energy fluctuates on a daily basis. However, I am definitely doing the full habits list tomorrow, I'm going to challenge myself to accomplish every daily goal I have for myself!

🩷 Song of The Day: Eleven - IVE

This song makes me feel like a badass princess who deserves only the highest level of princess treatment. It's hard to describe how feminine and girly this song makes me feel, even on my most tomboyish, sweaty work days. An absolute bop!!

🩷 Current Read: Atomic Habits by James Clear

Tomorrow, I can do this. I can meet my goals, all of them. It'll take some effort, but I have faith in myself. Once I get the ball rolling, it's just a matter of forward motion with accomplishing each of my goals. I can't wait!!

I also need to budget for next Saturday, as I'm going shopping for some new clothes before my university opens back up for the fall semester. If I'm gonna feel my best, I'm going to look my best too! I'm really hoping to get a few new dresses, accessories (like hair stuff, pantyhose, jelwery, purses, etc), shoes, and maybe some tops and skirts too depending on what the store has. I love shopping, so I'm super excited!!!

Til tomorrow, my lovelies!! <3

[cryptidsurveys]

Sunday, March 26th, 2025.

First thing you touched this morning? Most likely my phone in order to see what time it was.

Last thing you yelled at? It wasn't an angry yell, but "hello" to my dad when he arrived home from the gym.

Is your car a piece of crap? Not at all. It's around 17 years old, but it still works wonderfully.

What’s something you’re looking forward to in the next 7 days? There's a mandatory meeting at the shelter next Friday, which sounds incredibly boring, I know; but for some reason I find them enjoyable...

What’s annoying you right now? This on / off headache I've had for the past two and a half days. Not a migraine. More like pressure in the middle of my forehead plus tired and aching eyes. General exhaustion.

When is the last time you looked in the mirror? About 30-45 minutes ago.

Would you have a long distance relationship with the person you are with now? I'm not in a relationship. Not interested in long distance, but if I really cared about someone and we were serious about each other, then who knows.

Who was the last person to make you really mad? Lol, probably Alex or Diane, last September.

Do you enjoy watching porn? No.

What’s your favorite drinking game? Never played a drinking game before.

Do you cry often? It kind of depends on what's going on in my life. Annd therapy is likely to get me if life doesn't. :')

Do you think someone is thinking of you right now? It's definitely possible.

Choose one to have (beer, cigs, or weed)? Cigarettes. I haven't smoked weed for a few years now and I rarely ever drink.

Do you wish on stars? Ehh.

Are you a big flirt? No.

What is the most disgusting prank you’ve ever done? I've never pulled a disgusting prank.

What would you do if you became pregnant? I don't knooow. So much would depend on the circumstances.

When did you last make out with someone? Was it good? Years ago. And yeah, I'm sure I enjoyed it.

Do you like your body? Having a body is so frustrating!!

Are you a likeable person? Yeah.

Who did you dream of last night? Mostly frickin' ALEX. She came back to visit or whatever, but she was actually being relatively nice and tolerable. Also, Liv and a volunteer who was at the shelter yesterday.

Whose body do you wish you had? I don't want a specific person's body.

What is the first thing you are going to do when you get home? I am at home, but the first thing I'll do when I get home from the shelter tomorrow is take a shower.

When is the last time you saw your mom? March 13th. We went out for lunch, stopped by her house to meet her roommate and some of their animals, then went to get my hair cut.

Have you ever been so in love, you wanted to get married? Yeah.

Is there a song that makes you cry? There aren't any songs that are guaranteed to make me cry, but there are definitely songs with that potential.

Are you normally a horny person? No.

Where is your self-esteem from 1 (low) to 10 (high)? Ehh, maybe like a four.

What color are your eyes? Hazel.

Plans for tonight? Nothing.

Plans for the weekend? I was at the animal shelter yesterday and I've been a lazy bed bug today. I did manage to vacuum my bedroom earlier, though.

[peep-is-writing]

Chapter 1 of The Empty World:

Warnings: there will be swearing because swearing is fun. There will also be nsfw in later chapters, because this is also fun. Nothing and no one tells me what to write.

If you are younger than 18 years old: GO AWAY I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOU. Sorry kids. This is an 18+ story and I’m working on putting everything under a read more so no one stumbles across it. Please be patient.

Where is everyone?

As cliche as it might sound, Mel’s day truly did started like any other: with the sound of her alarm. She never did get up on the first ring, and often referred to the many times hitting the snooze button as time to process being alive. She really needed them today, she felt like she was coming out of hibernation or something. Eventually she got up, went to the bathroom, got dressed, and was out the door by 6:40. It was a comfortable routine that she had worked to perfect so she could have a 15 minute buffer in case there was excessive traffic, and also gave her just enough time to go to the bathroom and grab everything she needed before she started her shift. It was hard being a baby teacher, but the little faces of her students made it all worthwhile.

The first odd thing of the day was barely noticed: the neighbor’s dogs didn’t bark as she walked past their apartment. It was odd, but elicited more of a sigh of relief rather than any red flag. “The dogs must be just as tired as I am,” Mel thought to herself. It’s not like she held a grudge against their barking, it was their nature, and she loved to pet them when she got the chance.

It was just as quiet outside, which wasn’t too odd either. It was late January, and Mel didn’t even pause to think about it before turning on her music and starting her commute.

Mel always had a seed or two of worry in her gut. Anxiety was something she had learned to live around since she was a kid, after all. But there was one that started to slowly crack open as she noticed something:

there were no other cars on the road.

Mel checked the clock in her dashboard, and then her watch. It was definitely 6:45, and no matter how early her shift was there was always someone on the road. It was something Mel could easily dismiss, but that seed of worry let out its first little tendril, finding purchase in the depth of her gut.

The lights were off in the local coffee shop. Mel always went through the drive through for a donut before work. All part of her comfortable routine. She dutifully drove around the small building looking for signs of life, even waited a bit at the speaker, but there was no response except for the automated greeting.

Mel’s eyebrows furrowed, just a pout of uncertainty. This place was always open in the mornings but there was not a soul in sight.

Mel was uneasy as she continued to work, but continued to brush off her worry even as she traveled the empty road the seed of worry had rooted itself firmly in the foundation of her gut and began to creep upwards.

A tendril curled itself around her heart as she pulled into the small parking lot of the preschool. There wasn’t a single car in the lot except for the bus used to take the older kids to school. There wasn’t anyone parked in the street either. It didn’t make any sense, the school should have been open for at least an hour and by LAW there had to be two employees in the building as long as there were any kids.

Mel checked her phone. It wasn’t the weekend. It was a Wednesday, and school was almost never cancelled on a Wednesday. She looked at the work schedule, and there she was scheduled to start at 7:30. She sent a quick text asking where everyone was, and then checked her phone to see what day it was.

But the date displayed by her phone made no sense, because there is no such date as January 33. That is not how dates work. You know that, I know that, and Mel knew that. It was not something that should be possible, how could a phone even glitch like that? It connected to the internet automatically and surely SOMEONE would have fixed it by now!

Now, I could go into the details of everyone she called, every person she texted, every place she went, but the simple truth is that Mel could not find or contact a single other human being. Not only that, but she couldn’t even find any animals. There were no cats, dogs, birds, ANYTHING.

Other than the absence of any living things that Mel could see, there was no evidence of what had happened. It would have almost been better if she had found a body, blood, any of the gruesome details that Mel had come to expect from apocalypse movies. But there was nothing. No clues, no answers. Just questions. It was like everything on earth had just dropped what they were doing and vanished.

The seed of anxiety that had sprouted that morning had been growing steadily throughout the day. It pushed itself into the chambers of her heart, wrapped itself around her lungs, and crept up her spine and into her skull.

The bramble of her brain was budding with questions as she drove along the lonely road. The machete of reason had broken hours ago, and she no longer had any defense from the greenery that threatened to burst from her eyes. The only question you need to know is the one that broke her:

What happened to the babies?

The full bloom of Hysteria finally took hold of Mel. Tears blossomed from her eyes as the bramble crushed her heart and choked her lungs with desperate sobs. She could barely keep her eyes open as she cried out at the horrific realization that whatever had happened to the creatures of this empty hellish world had also happened to the little humans that she had built her life around. In the absence of any information, her brain filled in the blanks with nebulous and malicious horrors.

She had to stop the car.

She stepped on the brakes, careful not to slam or swerve, but she did not pull off to the side of the road. Mel would have been grateful if someone had run into her, if they had honked their horn, ANYTHING to break the spell and return her to the world she knew. But the seed that started it all sat heavy as a stone in her gut, solid and undeniable as the steering wheel of her car: something horrible had happened. And Mel could no longer hide behind rationalization, because this WAS her new reality.

Mel sat there until her sobbing finally died down. She felt so hollow. All she could do was stare out of her window at the empty sky, nothing but clouds.

No.

There was something.

A single trail of smoke going directly into the sky.

Not a sign of life in itself, but where there is smoke there is fire, and where there is fire there are probably humans.

Mel didn’t know whether it was a flare, a cooking fire, or just the start of some accidental blaze. But it was the only source of hope she had and she knew that it wouldn’t be long until the wind blew it away.

Without another thought she put her car into gear and sped off in search of whatever answers this clue led to.

[lochtayboatsong]

Day 1700 (9 November 2024)

Something I finally noticed about myself this week, is the fact that times of stress and trauma are when I do the most knitting. I knitted a fuckton of stuff during Covid Lockdown, and today I’ve spent 12+ almost continuous hours working on an afghan.

In this liminal space between the election and the inauguration, I’m going to have to make some very big decisions regarding the days ahead. First off I think it’s important to note down that I have decided to live. There was a 3-4 hour period on Wednesday morning during which the only two things keeping me from driving to Annapolis and jumping off the Chesapeake Bay Bridge were 1) the knowledge that it would destroy my parents and 2) the knowledge that my cats would never understand where I had gone and why I wasn’t coming back. I’m past that particular dark night of the soul, but next comes the hard work of living.

The way I see it I have three choices as far as what to do next. The first is to stay where I am and fight the good fight as best I can. I live and work in a red area of a blue state. I work in healthcare, at a Federally Qualified Health Center. Many of my patients are going to be directly harmed by the outcome of this election. Many of those who will be harmed, voted for this outcome. I treat people in MAGA hats every goddamn day. But I also treat people who are undocumented, people with crap insurance or no insurance at all, people who are trans, people who are in recovery from drugs and alcohol, and people who are in the process of escaping from toxic family situations and intimate partner violence. My work is rewarding but GOD it is hard sometimes. And it is going to get harder, and I am going to have to continue to look at Trump signs on my way to and from work every day.

The second is to move to the nearest major city. This is something I was already contemplating before this week, and I actually have a job interview coming up soon. I have many friends in that city, it will be closer to my family (a 3-hour drive away rather than a 5-hour drive), and there will be more to do on the weekends to distract myself from The Horrors. But it will mean building up a patient panel from scratch all over again, moving again (this time with two highly-strung cats in tow), and dealing with a higher cost of living. But I will be somewhere where I don’t feel like I have to hide my political affiliation at the risk of getting my tires slashed or worse.

The third is to leave the country altogether. This was my first impulse in 2016. I could try to move back to the UK, but the UK is drifting to the far right as well. I could try to move elsewhere in the anglophone world, somewhere that would recognize my American PA credential. Some preliminary research tells me that New Zealand would, for a start. But I’ve never been there - would I like it?

As of this moment I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do. A lot is going to depend on how this job interview goes. But I am very much aware that this is going to be one of the most significant Sliding Doors moments of my life, and a lot is going to depend on me making the right choice.

[httpiastri]

Hi Jackie! How are you? Are you excited for Monza? You’re working this weekend, aren’t you? 😕 How did your game go, did you win? I’m really curious about the sport you’re playing, I don’t know what sports are only big in Europe though 😅

School has started again and I’m tired already… I don’t know how I missed this during the summer 🥲 Hopefully it will get better soon!

Love you, hope you get to have a great weekend 😘

- 🧡

hi love! to be completely honest, these last few days have been really bad, but i'm trying to move past it. will break down if tomorrow is a bad racing day though <3 no, i'm kidding. but yes, i am excited for tomorrow! what about you? i indeed am working this weekend, "just" coaching though so it's not too tough. the kids did really well today and had a lot of fun so 🥰

the game went well, we won by quite a lot! i even scored two goals 🤪 ahahah feel free to drop into my dms and i'll let you know! i'm sorry to hear about school being tiring already :(( why does it always feel like that over the summer though? always longing back but then you just realize that... what did i think i was missing?? but i'm sure it will pass love, it usually does imo!! 💓

i love you too sweets !! hope you have a great time this weekend too 🥺

[survey--s]

508.

What was the last heavy thing you lifted? A bumper box of cat food from Pets At Home - it’s cheaper to buy it like that but 100 sachets of cat food is never going to be easy to carry around lol.

Is July an important month for you? No, nothing significant happens in July.

If someone looked inside your mind right now, what would they find? Nothing much, ha.

Are you good at reading body language? I mean, I’m good enough, I suppose.

Do you have an anchor tattoo? No and no.

What is something that is creepy to you? When people know who I am (as a dog walker) and address me and the dogs by name even though I have absolutely no clue who they are lol. 

What do you need right now? A cat that isn’t screaming at me to be fed over an hour early, lol.

What do you consider to be cruel? Shock collars on pets, and I am SO glad they’re finally being banned in this country. There’s absolutely no reason to ever give your pet an electric shock in order to get it to behave.

Do you love to daydream? No, I’m not really much of a daydreamer.

What’s your favorite shade of yellow? I’m not really a fan of yellow.

Has anyone told you to calm down recently? No - anyone who knows me well knows that that just pisses me off even more, lol.

When did you last panic? Yesterday when Ollie pulled the lead out of my hand while we were crossing the road -_- luckily there were no cars around and he just went to his driveway but my heart was in my mouth lol.

Are you currently tired? A little bit as I was awake at half six this morning - the dog woke me up and refused to settle back to sleep without having a cuddle, lol.

What helps you get by? Family, friends, my animals, sleep, food, time alone.

When did you last wear a mask? About two years ago - they’ve not been obligatory here for ages and I never see anyone wearing them anymore.

Does it hurt you when others are rude for no reason? It depends on who the other person is. 

If you could say anything to your father right now, what would it be? I don’t really need to say anything to him right now.

What’s the fastest you’ve ever driven? I think about 80mph.

When did it last rain? A couple of days ago for about thirty seconds, lol. We’ve had such nice weather here for the past couple of weeks.

Have you ever been admitted to a hospital? Yeah, twice - both for relatively minor head injuries.

Has anyone blamed you for something you didn’t do? Sure, that’s life, isn’t it?

How much is gasoline where you are? Uh, around £1.64 a litre for petrol, and £1.86 a litre for diesel, I think. At least, it was a couple of weeks ago when I filled up.

How are you doing today? Pretty great - it’s a Bank Holiday weekend and I’m not working!

What is the last song you listened to in a car? I don’t remember. I think something by the Zutons.

Do you currently feel calm? Yeah, very calm actually. 

Are you good at making new friends? No.

Are there any important things happening this week? No, not really. It’s Bank Holiday weekend and then just work as normal for four days, then another Bank Holiday for the Coronation but I don’t really give a shit about that lol.

If comfortable answering, have you or would you ever be admitted into a mental hospital? I’ve never been admitted but often you don’t have a choice.

What’s a color you think is underrated? Moss green.

Would you rather never be sick again or be rich? Be rich.

When did you last hear thunder? I couldn’t tell you, maybe six weeks ago?

What all have you put in the trash today? An empty box of Apple Turnovers, a dirty cleaning sponge and a toilet roll holder.

Do you enjoy blueberry muffins? They’re one of those things I love but never think to buy lol.

What’s something you will never forget? My wedding day.

What’s the most bitter pill you’ve ever taken? I’m not sure about bitter but the taste of paracetamol in your throat makes me feel so sick lol. I can’t take it unless it’s sugar coated or in capsule.

What is a popular TV show or movie that you do not like? Star Wars.

When was the last time you felt like “getting into someone’s pants”? No idea.

What is your favorite energy drink, if you have a favorite at all? Starbucks DoubleShot, if that counts as an energy drink?

Would you have kids with the last person you kissed? No. I don’t want kids with anyone - far too much hassle and responsibility lol.

Would you mind living near large predatory animals? It depends what animals you’re referring to - England is really safe when it comes to stuff like this though.

What’s your biggest priority right now? I don’t really have any.

If you’ve stayed overnight in a hospital, how did you entertain yourself? I don’t really remember as I was concussed both times. If I was in overnight now, I would sleep, read, go on my phone, watch stuff online etc.

Are your hands unsteady? They can be.

Do you think you’re pretty? I think I’m normal-looking.

Have you ever added someone you don’t know on Facebook? No.

Who’s the last guy you texted? Mike.

Who do you know that wears the most makeup? I don’t really know anyone who wears much make-up.

Have you ever been tied up? Yes.

Are you anyone’s first love? Apparently so.

If you could find one long-lost friend of the past, who would it be? Sophie.

Was your sixth grade teacher a man or a woman? Woman.

Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? Susie.

Has anyone ever told you they were in love with you? Yeah, quite a few people actually.

Do you prefer boys to shave down there? They can do what they want.

How much does your mother know about your sex life (or lack thereof)? Zero, really. 

Do you enjoy watching cooking shows? Yeah, I love the competition ones and stuff like Kitchen Nightmares or Restaurant Impossible.

Did you lose friends when you started dating someone? No.

When was the last time you went to an ice cream parlor? What kind of ice cream did you get? Last week. I got an iced coffee and a vanilla ice-cream for the dog lol.

Did you go to school with anyone named Ashley? What was that person like? No. I did work with an Ashley for a few months though and had a huge crush on him, hahah. I looked him up on Facebook not so long ago and wondered what the hell I was thinking.

What color is the vehicle that you travel in most often? Metallic grey.

Do you have any nieces or nephews? When was the last time you saw them? Yeah, they’re all by marriage though - Mike has a HUGE family but none of us are very close. I saw Amber about about a month ago though.

Do you know the story of how your grandparents met? No.

Do you have a relative or close friend named Peter? When was the last time you saw that person? No. The only Peter I knew was a boy from school who lived on the same road as me - he taught me how to skateboard and kissed me once lol. He was the year above me and I was about 12/13 and thought I was the height of sophistication lol.

Have you ever had an ex who wanted to get back together? What did you say to them? Yeah, and the answer was noooooo.

[bakurapika]

I need to lose weight for top surgery. I have had many issues with Disordered Eating for non-body-image reasons, maybe like half mental health, half not having money. So! Because I need to write everything down. Here are my guidelines for myself so far, making them up as I go. This is all happening in conjunction with a new med to help me with weight loss fyi.

Also the fact that the weight loss is 11 lb and not like 30 lb seems actually hypothetically doable.

NO removal, ONLY substitutions: I can sub out my usual large soda for a medium herbal tea. But if I would normally get a cookie and am hungry and nothing else can hit that spot affordably, I'm gonna still have to buy and enjoy that cookie. No excuses for skipping food.

Exercise must be FUN and NEVER a PUNISHMENT: I've previously had a gym (actually YMCA) membership that fizzled out because I did that thing where I skipped it for legitimate reasons a couple times in a row and then the habit was gone forever. I currently just got a membership to a gym near me and it is tentatively going well! No gimmicks, just trying to listen to my body and emotions.

Tried to get myself to do some chores today and was successful, but I caught myself almost going, "If I fail this, then I have to go to the gym..." No! Wrong!

However I did do, "If I succeed, I get to go to the skating rink tomorrow," which is something I tried and enjoyed but it's a drive and costs a little bit of money, so I haven't done again yet.

Only as LONG as it's CHILL: As long as I got to the gym and did something, I can call it good. I kinda have been trying to do at least 20 minutes and my time is going steadily up without me needing to make myself miserable about it. But yeah I don't need to keep an eye on the clock until I'm allowed to go home.

NOTHING you'd REGRET TOMORROW: Push myself only in a good way that makes me feel stronger. If there's an ow or a yikes, move on to something I know I'm capable of. In that vein:

EVERY day is LEG DAY: I have problems with everything from the lower back upward. BUT I realized when starting this, my legs still work... I used to enjoy doing the leg curl machine (which is apparently what it's called) back in high school... and like, there's no rule that says you have to work out your whole body equally.

I mean, there's probably a bodybuilding rule. But if I'm still at the "please god do anything to be less sedentary" stage so who cares.

Go by GENERAL weight and not OUNCES: I really don't want to get into a Cathy spiral here. I've been pleasantly surprised at the scale but this sort of needs to be going down and then maintaining, not a race to the bottom. And if the end goal here is to be weighed fully clothed in like, a month or two, and then again in several months, an ounce here or there when in my boxers doesn't matter so much as an overall weight trend. On that note, I CAN weigh myself more than once a day, but I can't take it seriously. I'm not tracking the numbers because I'm also not keeping track of calories or shit like that, because of the disordered eating thing.

This one's so easy in principal but so hard in practice: Make it a part of your SCHEDULE. I have evening plans on Tuesdays and Thursdays so it's easy to remember that in general, unless something unexpected happens or I'm really tired or something (again, it should be fun and I shouldn't do something I'd regret, so no pushing past exhaustion), after work, I'm going to the gym.

Weekends are still up in the air but I went tonight on a Saturday so maybe just any night I don't have other plans?