#i don’t think i’ve even turned on my computer since the last time i posted sims

[uxji]

UXJI I MISS U 😞😞

uxji too busy with the responsibilities of life to have the brain capacity to open sims

[yelena-bellova]

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen: Break My Heart

Plot: With Y/n and Jamie not speaking to one another, a trip to Manchester brings about opportunity and heartache.

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: f!reader, language, insinuated smut, mention of abusive parents

A/N: THIS is the chapter I’ve been looking forward to the most. Even though this isn’t the conclusion, I think it’s what the whole thing’s been building to. Well, this is part one of it, at least. I’m gonna shut up now and just let you read. Enjoy!!

—————

Sam Obisanya: Remember that movie we were looking forward to? It’s coming out on Friday. Want to catch it this weekend?

Colin Hughes: Haven’t seen you around lately. Everything alright?

Dani Rojas: We missed you at Isaac’s birthday dinner! Come visit us next time you are free!

Rebecca Welton: Your tea’s cold. Keeley’s confirmed you’re not dead. Several questions.

Ted Lasso: What’s shaking, Abe Lincoln? Don’t be a stranger next time you’re meeting with the boss.

There had been an onslaught of texts in the three weeks since Y/n had moved out of the Dogtrack. She hadn’t expected people to not notice she was gone, but she hadn’t thought so many of them would care.

She’d ignored every single one.

She wasn’t the only one who’d chosen to stick with Keeley. Barbara had stayed on as well. With Rebecca’s generous financing, the three of them were keeping their ship afloat all by themselves. Jack be damned.

True to her word, Y/n handled all Richmond business from afar, only popping in with Keeley for an occasional meeting with Rebecca and Higgins. She sorted press conferences and post-match interviews without ever stepping foot in the building. If it weren’t so unhealthy, it would have been impressive.

In her makeshift office, actually the conference room, Y/n paced around her computer. She eyed the screen each time she passed by. Roy had a presser scheduled for the afternoon. Sam and…another player were meant to join him. Sam she could handle seeing, though Lord knows she felt guilty for ghosting him. The other one…

“Oh,” Y/n waved herself off, feeling ridiculous. She was a grown woman. She could handle it, she thought, as she turned on the video feed.

Springing to life on her screen, Roy sat between Sam and Jamie, fielding questions.

Y/n’s insides locked up. Jamie.

They hadn’t spoken since the night he’d shown up at her apartment. Not a single text or run-in. It was no longer just Y/n avoiding him, Jamie was actively not speaking to her.

Y/n tried to focus on Sam’s answers, he spoke humbly about Richmond’s 15-game win streak. The last three had been unbelievable you-had-to-be-there kind of matches. Hiding in her apartment with a Sky Sports broadcast hadn’t compared to the real thing. Y/n missed the energy of the stadium and the joy of watching the boys.

Her eyes kept floating back to Jamie. He was hunched over the table, biting his nails, not making eye contact with anyone. He didn’t look like he wanted to be there at all.

Marcus Adebayo, though he answered to Roy’s nickname of ‘better Trent,’ stood and addressed Jamie. “On the heels of making your England debut, how does it feel to be named Premier League Player of the Month?”

“Eh, um, yeah. Yeah, it feels good, I guess,” Jamie answered hesitantly, “But it’s really the team making me look good. So, I should be doing a better job of making them look good, really.”

If Y/n had been in the room, Sam, Roy and her would have all shared the same puzzled look.

“So, yeah. Makes me feel bad,” Jamie finished with a pursed frown.

Roy leaned forward, “Uh, Jamie also led the league in assists this month so he’s done plenty to make his teammates look good.”

“Yeah, but they’re the ones who took all the shots,” Jamie corrected softly.

“He also scored a goal,” Sam interjected.

“T-that was meant to be a pass,” Jamie pointed out, his voice high with anxiety, “You shouldn’t count that. That goal is a lie. It should be retracted from the records.”

Y/n shook her head in confusion, whispering to the empty room, “What are you doing?”

“I apologize to everyone,” Jamie continued, “Especially to the kids.”

“Right, let’s call it there, everyone,” Roy decided at the exact second Y/n was internally stepping forward, “That was great. Thanks very much.”

Y/n stared at the screen, her gaze following Jamie until he was off camera. Whoever had been speaking wasn’t any variation of the Jamie Tartt she knew. He was so out of character it was concerning.

She glanced at her phone, the device silently begging her to type a message. Ask him. Talk to him. Find out what’s wrong. Help him.

Instead, Y/n took a deep breath, closed out the browser, opened her email and got back to work. No good could come from her reaching out. Jamie would be absolutely fine without her, better even. And she would be fine without him.

—————————

Y/n wasn’t a woman who ever thought a man’s presence added anything to a situation she couldn’t. But as she heaved the water jug onto the cooler, she wished that she hadn’t sent the delivery guy away under the assumption she could do it herself.

She returned to the main room to find Keeley in conversation with Roy, both of them turning to face her.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Roy asked.

Y/n motioned to the space around them, “I work here.”

“No, you don’t,” he replied matter-of-factly, “You work at Richmond.”

“Y/n has been here the last few weeks,” Keeley answered, “Just to get things back up and running while we’re short staffed.”

Roy took deep pride in not interjecting himself into anyone else’s business. Sure, he’d helped Isaac through whatever the fuck had caused his meltdown last month. Yes, he offered Ted advice from time to time. But the other 99% of the time, he didn’t particularly care what choices the people around him made. Their lives were theirs and his was his.

But Jamie and Y/n were another fucking deal.

He wouldn’t have invited Y/n along to their 4AM training sessions if he hadn’t known she helped keep Jamie’s spirits up. He’d caught the two of them leaving the parking lot together more than a dozen times. He’d noticed Jamie be the first one on the pitch whenever Y/n was observing training and the first one off when she was waiting on him for lunch. He was well aware the two of them were attached at the fucking hip. Y/n’s disappearance had thrown everything off-balance. Maybe it wasn’t the reason for Jamie breaking down in Roy’s arms earlier, but it certainly couldn’t be helping.

“Oh,” Roy humored the answer, smiling at Y/n. “That’s very kind of her.”

Y/n grinned back nervously, Roy could see through everyone’s bullshit but his own.

“She could help too,” Keeley suggested.

“Help with what?” Y/n asked.

Keeley gestured to Roy for an explanation. “Jamie’s going through some shit. I asked Keeley to talk to him, but since you two are close, maybe you could too.”

Big fat flashing red sirens went off in Y/n’s head. “Oh, I really don’t think I’d help anything,” she struggled, “I-I think Keeley’s much more suited.”

“Not necessarily,” Keeley disagreed as Roy continued to stare Y/n down, “I mean, you two are really good friends.”

“We’re not that close,” Y/n lied, “I mean, we’ve hung out a couple of times but really,” she extended a hand toward her boss, “You definitely know him better.”

Unlike her ex, Keeley had no problem inserting herself in other people’s business. She hadn’t yet approached Y/n about the headlines she and Jamie had made after the England match or the fact that she didn’t want to go near Nelson Road. Since coming back from London, Y/n had pulled away from everyone and everything, Keeley included.

Roy was taking some sick joy in egging Y/n on, “Oh, no, I think-“

“I’ll take care of it,” Keeley jumped to say, ending whatever confrontation was about to take place. “Promise.”

Y/n and Roy held eye contact, challenging one another to break first. Eventually, Roy’s desire to look at Keeley won out and he turned away.

“Thanks,” he glanced back over at Y/n, “I’ll leave you two to your work.”

Stealing one more fleeting gaze at his ex-girlfriend, Roy left the way he’d come, leaving Y/n with a whole new bunch of unresolved feelings.

“He’s quite handsome.”

Y/n startled, she hadn’t even realized Barbara was seated at her desk for the whole exchange. She headed for the conference room, eager to get away from every part of the conversation.

Keeley hung back a moment before following her and gently knocking on the door. “Hi,” she entered slowly, “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Y/n answered with faux cheeriness, seated once more at her desk/table, “Fine.”

“It’s just back there…you seemed a bit on edge when Roy mentioned Jamie,” Keeley broached the topic with care.

Y/n’s muscles involuntarily clenched, she tried to keep an even expression. “No, I’m fine.”

Keeley hesitated, nearly turning around and leaving before deciding to just go for it. “You know, if this is about the pictures of you two, I don’t think anyone thinks-“

Y/n sighed, “Keeley, I’m fine. I just think Roy should do his fucking job and take care of his players instead of pawning them off on one of us.”

“I’m not talking about Roy,” Keeley replied, “I’m talking about-“

“Jamie and I are not close,” Y/n said, her tone harsher than intended, “We are not friends. There’s nothing wrong with him, we’re just not as chummy as everyone seems to think we are. End of story.”

Keeley knew Y/n’s edges were sharp, but she hadn’t ever seen her snap so quickly. It only told her there was more to the issue than she’d guessed.

“Got it,” she gave a single nod, “I’m sorry I asked.”

Y/n regretted her words the moment she’d said them. Keeley hadn’t deserved her misplaced frustration. But the mere mention of that night triggered Y/n’s fight-or-flight response. Mixed with the knowledge that something was wrong with Jamie and that Roy clearly knew something, it was all too much.

She stared out the conference room window, landing on Keeley and Barbara’s desks they’d pushed together. She could have been with them, working together as a team. Instead, she was hiding away, once again deciding that the isolation could keep her safe from everything.

Everything except the gnawing fear that she was responsible for Jamie’s behavior.

—————————

Finally, the long awaited weekend arrived.

Man City versus Richmond.

Y/n left no stone unturned when searching for a new excuse not to attend the match. She’d had her period the first week of her three week absence, sick and exhausted the next two. If she’d had any family in the country, there would have been some fake emergency involving them.

She knew she couldn’t get away with a full month’s nonattendance. She had to go to Manchester.

Packing an overnight bag at 6AM and getting on the road by 7 had been her self-ruled terms. The last thing Y/n wanted was to be stuffed on a bus with everyone she was trying to avoid for four hours. Driving herself allowed not only space, but an escape route, if she needed it.

She was barely out of London when Keeley rang her. “Hi.”

“Hi,” the Bluetooth speakers of the car projected Keeley’s voice, “We’re loading the bus up. Just wanted to see where you were.”

Y/n sighed, she’d forgotten to tell someone she wasn’t coming with the team. “Actually, I’m already on the road. I couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d get an early start.”

“Oh,” Keeley sounded a bit disappointed, but not entirely surprised, “That makes sense. Smart choice.”

“Yeah,” Y/n replied, feeling the familiar burn in her gut that came with each lie she told, “I’m a bit ahead of you guys so I’ll see you when you get there.”

“Alright. Drive safe, yeah?”

“You too,” she said before disconnecting the call.

Y/n tried to listen to music, tried to play a podcast, but she found that anything other than silence just didn’t feel right. Every song seemed to trace back to her situation and every spoken word seemed to be speaking directly to her, telling her everything she was doing was wrong.

The silence was no more comforting, it only gave her more room to ruminate about the weekend. How was she supposed to avoid Jamie in such close quarters? How was she supposed to keep away from Ted, Rebecca, Keeley, the rest of the team? It felt like a mistake to come and an equally massive one to stay behind.

A long four hours later, Y/n pulled up to the Hacienda Hotel. The Greyhound bus had yet to arrive. She actually stood a chance at getting up to her room and dodging company till the match.

Y/n gave her car to the valet and dragged her single suitcase through the lobby. She headed straight for the front desk.

“Hi,” she greeted the concierge, “I have a reservation under Y/l/n.”

“Let me just check,” the man replied, typing the last name into his computer. He frowned, “I’m sorry, ma’am, we don’t seem to have that reservation.”

“No, that can’t be right,” Y/n calmly replied, “I called yesterday about transferring one room under the Richmond block to my name.”

The man scrolled through his list a second time, “Unfortunately, that request doesn’t seem to have been entered into our system. All the Richmond rooms are reserved under the name ‘Lasso.’”

Y/n sighed, she’d gone to extreme lengths to separate herself before even stepping foot in the city. So much so that she’d been willing to pay her own overpriced hotel rate.

“Fine,” she relented, “It doesn’t matter. Checking in to one room under the name ‘Lasso.’”

“Unfortunately, ma’am,” the employee grimaced, “Under hotel policy, we can’t check in individual guests if the reservation is under a different name. You’ll have to wait until the main guest has arrived.”

Y/n’s plan crumbled further, Ted had to check her in? Worse, she’d have to wait with the whole fucking team?

Just as she’d connected the dots, the hiss of a Coach could be heard outside. Y/n whipped her head around to see the AFC Richmond logo and the moving silhouettes of the boys through the dark windows.

“There,” Y/n pointed to the bus, “The main guest’s there. Check me in.”

The man hesitated, “I’m sorry, ma’am. I have to wait to confirm-“

“How many people named ‘Lasso’ do you think there are in this country?” Y/n whispered in a panic, “He’s right in there, he’s making shitty puns,” her hand bounced against the desk, “Check me in.”

Arguing would have been hard considering Ted was an anomaly in England. The concierge conceded to Y/n’s demand and began the process.

Y/n nervously drummed her fingers against the counter, glancing back to see Will emerging from the bus. Behind him were Isaac, Richard and Jan.

“You’ll be in room #601, ma’am,” the concierge reported and handed her a room key.

Y/n yanked the card out of his palm before he could tell her the bellboy would be happy to take her suitcase. “Thank you.”

She hurried across the lobby to the elevator, praying she could make a getaway without anyone see-

“Hey, Y/n!”

She stopped in her tracks, so close…

Y/n turned around and spotted Ted, hurrying across the lobby as one would after a long drive. She managed a smile and a wave, pressing the elevator’s button repeatedly with her other hand.

“Don’t forget,” Ted called as he made a beeline for the bathrooms. “Team movie, 7:30. I’ll give ya a hint; if you love Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan, you ain’t gonna wanna miss this one!”

In three weeks, Y/n had dodged a lot of invitations. A lot. Another declination and she was convinced she’d develop an ulcer.

“Sounds good,” she shouted just as the elevator doors opened. She jumped inside and pressed her floor number before anyone else spot her.

Just before the doors closed, she caught the first of the boys entering the lobby. Just past Sam, Y/n glimpsed the sharp edges of Jamie’s face. Her heart caught in her throat, the mere sight of him was enough to startle her.

She wondered how long she could pretend everything was fine before she proved herself wrong.

—————————

Y/n hid in her room the rest of the day. She didn’t dare leave to get ice or see the city, sure that with her luck, she’d run into someone the second she stepped out.

Half-way through the afternoon, a knock at the door surprised her. She peeked through the peephole to see Keeley. Out of anyone, she was the one that Y/n couldn’t totally avoid.

The door swung open and Y/n put on a smile, “Hey.”

“Hi,” Keeley greeted, “You beat us here.”

“Yeah,” Y/n chuckled, “Trust me, I’d have rather gotten the sleep.”

“Right,” Keeley chortled, “Can I come in?”

Y/n opened the door wider and allowed it. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to steal your pillow chocolates,” her boss cheekily smirked but didn’t move to grab the candy.“And…to ask if you might reconsider talking to Jamie?”

“Keeley,” Y/n sighed in frustration, rubbing at her face, “I told you-“

“I know,” Keeley held up her hands, “But I just talked to him and…he’s really in his head. It’s bad, Y/n. I’ve never seen him like this.”

While she could pretend all she wanted that Jamie meant little to her, Y/n was growing more and more worried. Every one of his dreams were coming true, and the ones that hadn’t were on the horizon. He should have been on top of the world and instead, he was spiraling. She wanted nothing more than to bang on his door, wrap him in her arms and fix it all. Put him back together until he was his glorious self.

“Look,” Y/n pushed on one of her eyes, “Keeley, whatever you think I’m capable of doing for Jamie, I’m not. I’m not a footballer, I’m not his coach, I’m not his girlfriend,” she found the last words uncomfortably difficult to get out, “I’m half his publicity team. That’s it.”

“You’re more than that,” Keeley replied, she had the kindest way of arguing. “You two have been glued to each other’s sides since you got to Richmond. Jamie trusts you. If you just talk to him-“

Y/n pressed her hands against her lips as Keeley spoke. The panic was beginning to swirl inside her again.

“Keeley,” she cut her off and enunciated her words, “I can’t help him.”

After a whole season of working together, Keeley could easily tell when Y/n was lying, both to others and herself. She didn’t need to know what her and Jamie meant to one another, all that mattered was they did. If Y/n wasn’t ready to acknowledge it, there wasn’t anything Keeley could do.

“Okay,” she replied, once again resigned in her failed quest, “I’ll leave you be.”

Y/n didn’t move as Keeley’s furry jacket brushed past her, shutting her eyes to hide the tears. Only when she was alone once more did she let them streak her cheeks. Somewhere down the hall, Jamie was hurting, and that meant she was hurting as well.

—————————

At exactly 7:30, Y/n made her way down the hotel hall. Different conference rooms lined the walls and she followed their numbers till she found the one Ted had texted her. She slipped through the back door, the lights were dimmed and everyone had already taken their seats. Her version of perfect timing.

From her vantage point, Y/n had a perfect layout of the seating arrangement. The team were gathered in the first few rows. Keeley and Roy were at one end of the back row, with Ted, Beard, Rebecca and Higgins following. Y/n couldn’t help but let her eyes run over the players’ heads, spotting Jamie’s mop of hair in the front row.

After evaluating her options, Y/n chose the safest one at the nearest end of the back row, next to Trent Crimm.

“Just in time,” he whispered as she took the seat beside him.

“Yeah,” she replied, “Got lost.”

Trent nodded, waiting a few seconds before speaking up again, “You know, I’m sure anyone would be happy to switch. In case you wanted to sit with your friends.”

Y/n peered over at Trent, whose eyes gleamed suspiciously with knowledge.

“I’m fine,” she readjusted in her chair to prove the point.

Trent nodded, trying and failing not to smirk, “I’m honored to rank so high on your priority list.”

Y/n’s glance turned into a stare, the former journalist was smiling as if she were made of glass. Were her actions so obvious that even he had noticed?

Trent settled back into his chair, shifting his attention to the opening credits. Y/n did the same and focused just as the main title popped up.

You’ve Got Mail.

She groaned internally, if the universe was out to get her, choosing one of the most romantic comedies of all time was the greatest insult it could hurl.

For an hour and fifty-nine minutes, Y/n squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. She couldn’t go more than thirty seconds without sneaking a peek at Jamie, who hadn’t moved at all since the start. He was a fidgeting mess every waking minute of the day. Something was terribly off.

After Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks kissed in the New York garden and his golden retriever leaped to embrace them, the lights came back on. Y/n distractedly clapped along with the rest of the room, already eyeing her exit.

“All right. Listen up, you big softies,” Ted announced, “10PM, lights out. Then get yourselves some beauty sleep for tomorrow’s big meet-cute with Man City. You hear? Alright, Ephron on three. One, two, three-“

A few people, Beard being the loudest, chanted the filmmaker’s name.

“Lovely to see you again,” Trent said, a tease to his tone, as Y/n got up and out of her seat.

She hesitated, catching his knowing expression once more, and debated saying something. She decided it wasted energy and turned on her heel, making it only two steps before Keeley grabbed hold of her arm.

“Come on,” she ordered, pulling Y/n behind her.

“What?” Y/n asked, “Where the-“

Keeley didn’t answer, tugging her across the room towards the door Roy was holding open.

“Keeley, what-“

“Shh,” Keeley hushed, finally letting go of Y/n’s arm.

Y/n followed alongside her boss and Roy, unsure of where they were leading her. When they got to the lobby and she caught Jamie’s silhouette ahead of them, she came to a halt.

“No.”

“Y/n-“ Keeley began.

“No,” Y/n slashed a hand through the air, “I told you no.”

“Fuck your no,” Roy snapped, “I don’t care what the fuck’s going on wth you two, but your job is to make the club look good,” Roy pointed to Jamie’s fleeting figure, “And he makes us look good. So you’re gonna do your fucking job and you’re gonna help us fucking fix this.”

Y/n chuckled with deep annoyance, “You know what? Fuck you, Kent. I’m not one of your footballers you can boss around any time you’re in a shit mood,” she stuck a finger out at Roy, “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“Oi!” Keeley exclaimed, her heels slapping against the floor as she marched back, “Both of you, stop it. Come on!”

Roy and Y/n broke their stare, Jamie was rounding the corner and heading out the hotel’s doors. Sparing each other one more hardened glare, they followed Keeley.

The three of them exited the hotel, Keeley spotting Jamie passing the Richmond bus, and they traced his path. Against all she told herself, Y/n went on her own free will, chasing him through the Manchester evening.

Keeley’s stalking technique involved scurrying behind cars and lampposts, while Y/n clung to building walls. Ever the least subtle of any group, Roy simply walked the street, not using much caution to mask his presence.

They followed Jamie through neighborhoods and into the inner part of the city. They crossed bridges, climbed stairs and finally ended up on one side of a florescent lit tunnel. On their descent down the steps, they lost sight of him.

“The fuck is he?” Roy asked.

“I don’t know,” Keeley answered, “You’ve lost him.”

Roy glanced around them, “You said he went down here.”

“I did not,” Keeley argued, “You said that.”

“No, I said he’s in a tunnel,” Roy corrected as the three of them marched down the way, “I didn’t say he was in this tunnel. She’s the one who thought it was this one.”

“He did come down this one,” Y/n said sternly.

“Well, there’s no other tunnel, is there?” Keeley reprimanded them, “I don’t believe it. You’ve lost Jamie Tartt.”

“We didn’t lose him,” Y/n argued, silently worried. The second she’d lost eyes on Jamie was the second their surroundings suddenly became unsettling.

“You can’t lose Jamie Tartt,” Roy replied.

“Well, you have,” Keeley fired back.

“OI!”

Roy, Keeley and Y/n jumped at the exclaim, spinning around and shouting various expletives.

“Fucking hell!”

“What the fuck?!”

Jamie stood, hood over his head and hands in his pockets. “Why are you following me?”

“Just wanted to make sure you’re okay, you prick,” Roy spoke kind words with contrasting anger.

“What’s going on, Jamie?” Keeley asked, “Are you buying drugs?”

Jamie’s confused stare turned to Y/n, he locked up. The three weeks of not seeing her made her sudden presence feel like a hallucination.

Any face Y/n had been wearing dropped the second her eyes met Jamie’s. This was the closest they’d been since that night outside her apartment.

They came back to themselves quickly, hiding whatever they were feeling for the sake of Keeley and Roy being present.

Jamie nodded towards the path ahead of them, “Come on.”

Roy, Keeley and Y/n followed without question as Jamie guided them through the tunnel. It led up to a crowded neighborhood, a council estate that looked like it had seen better days.

Y/n made an effort to follow Roy, keeping as much distance as she could between her and Jamie. Her presence would probably mess with his head even more so than her absence might have. She was starting to wonder if the choice to come had been a selfish one.

They passed a group of kids kicking a football against a brick wall.

“Oi,” one of them called, “Are you Jamie Tartt?”

Jamie pushed back his hood, “Yeah.”

“More like Jamie Fart,” the youngest taunted.

“Screw you, dickhead,” the tallest one shouted, “Prick!”

“Yeah, who are you?”

“City’s gonna fuck you up tomorrow!”

Through the haranguing of insults, Jamie smiled, glancing over to Keeley, and sneaking one at Y/n. He led them away towards the row of houses.

Roy stuck around, turning to stare down the kids, who’d gone dead silent. Y/n readied herself to drag Roy away kicking and screaming from unloading on them.

Instead, he held up his hands in an ‘ok’ sign, “Good lads.”

While the kids were clearly thrilled at having been complimented by the Roy Kent, Y/n slapped his arm as hard as she could. Roy grasped it and silently protested before Y/n pointed to where Jamie and Keeley had gone off to.

They arrived on the doorsteps of one of the houses. Jamie rang the doorbell and they waited till a pair of eyes popped through one of the door’s glass bits.

“Hey,” the man exclaimed before opening the door, greeting them with a wide grin, “Jamie!”

“How you doing, Simon?” Jamie smiled and pointed to the group, “This is Keeley, that’s Roy, and that’s Y/n.”

“Come on in, come on in,” Simon waved them into the home.

Jamie entered first, shaking Simon’s hand, “How are you, mate? Good seeing you, man.”

“Yeah, great,” Simon replied as he ushered his guests in.

Keeley, Roy and Y/n all gave various greetings as they crossed the threshold. None of them knew quite where they were.

“Georgie,” Simon called up the stairs, “We’ve got visitors!”

A female voice called back down, “What was that, love? Someone at the door?”

Jamie made a beeline for the bottom of the staircase, just as a woman stopped at the top, frozen by what lay in front of her.

“Hello, Mommy.”

Y/n’s eyes widened.

Georgie screamed as she ran down the steps, leaping into her son’s arms. “Jamie!”

“Mommy, I’d like to introduce you to Keeley,” Jamie turned to face his friends, “And this hairy prick’s Roy,” his smile dropped an imperceptible inch, “And that’s Y/n over there.”

“Hi,” Keeley greeted in her normal bubbly tone.

“Hi,” Y/n managed to eek out, holding up a nervous hand.

“Hey, you,” Roy said smoothly.

“Hi,” Georgie greeted them all while hugging Jamie once more, “It’s lovely to finally meet you all. I’d come and give you a hug,” she squeezed the sides of her son’s face, “But I’m not letting go of this one!”

Jamie lifted his mom into the air and spun her around.

“There they go,” Simon observed, “Right, who wants some sweet treats?”

Simon slipped off deeper into the house while Georgie and Jamie stayed in their embrace.

“Look at your gorgeous face,” she exclaimed as Jamie carried them both down the hallway, “I love it. How have you been? Look at you.”

Run. All of Y/n’s instincts told her to run right back out that door and take her chances with being abducted in the sketchy tunnel. Roy and Keeley must have sensed her unease because Keeley reached back for Y/n’s hand and Roy kept behind her, forcing her inside.

Georgie and Jamie had managed to separate long enough for Jamie to snuggle up against his mom on the living room couch. Keeley, Y/n and Roy stood at the entrance to the room, unsure of where to go.

“Oh, come and sit down,” Georgie gestured to the rest of the room.

Keeley and Roy entered less hesitatingly than Y/n, who took up a seat on the arm of the couch. To say she was uncomfortable was an understatement of epic proportions. Here she’d gone to every effort to avoid Jamie, and she’d ended up in what was clearly his childhood home with his mother.

She glanced over at the shrine to Jamie on the far wall, various pictures of him from different stages of life proudly displayed. Baby pictures all the way to league headshots. Y/n wanted to evaporate into thin air.

Simon popped back into the room with a plate of baked goods, dishing one out to each of his guests as Georgie and Jamie talked.

“It was just poopy,” Jamie quietly vented to his mom, his thick accent changing the word entirely, “You know, it really upset me. This guy on Twitter, he kept saying that it was blonde, but I’m like, ‘It’s fucking walnut mist, mate.’”

Y/n nearly spit out the bite of scone she was chewing. If this whole debacle was about his vanity, she’d march out the door. They’d argued several times over the exact shade of the highlights.

“Yeah, obviously,” Georgie agreed, stroking her son’s hair, “He’s done a lovely job, it’s dead natural.”

Simon finished pouring the tea, looking up expectantly at the party. “What do you think?”

Keeley smiled, “It’s really yummy.”

“Yeah, it’s wonderful,” Y/n managed to find her voice.

Keeley elbowed Roy, who was lost staring at the sight of his former nemesis cuddled up with his mother like a lost child. “It’s fucking delicious,” he said distractedly before returning.

“Well, it’s a Paul Hollywood recipe, but I’ve gone a little bit rogue on it,” Simon explained.

Allowing herself to slip back into a world where Jamie was damn near the center, Y/n wondered who Simon was. He clearly wasn’t Jamie’s biological father, he was the complete antithesis of the man she’d heard horror stories about. Jamie had never mentioned having a step-dad.

“Babes,” Georgie said softly, “Do you wanna give Roy, Keeley and Y/n the grand tour? Show them around a bit?”

“Yes,” Simon agreed, catching the signals his wife was throwing at him. “Good idea. Thank—“ he stood and hit his head on the overhead light, “Oops! Right, follow me. We will start in the kitchen, aka my laboratory.”

Y/n was the first to stand, but fell behind Keeley, making her a buffer. When Roy hesitated to leave, she tugged him harshly out the room.

“Fuckin’ grip you’ve got,” he complained as they walked to the kitchen.

“Oh, bite me,” Y/n retorted. Keeley had good intentions, but she was ready to kick Roy for dragging her into this.

Simon took them on a full tour of the house, showcasing his kitchen and its appliances off as if they were his most prized possessions. All along the walls of the house were pictures of him and Georgie on various trips and holidays. Scattered between them were childhood pictures of Jamie.

Eventually, Simon led them up the stairs and down a short hall. “And here is the main attraction,” he announced, opening a door and flipping on a light, “Jamie’s room.”

“Oh, sweet Lord,” Y/n muttered under her breath. This was way too deep in.

The room seemed untouched since the day Jamie had left it. Both childhood toys and teen paraphernalia were stacked on shelves and dressers. The bedding had a football pattern to it and there were various trophies for the sport nearby. On the walls, there were school certificates and diplomas and-

“Fucking hell.”

Y/n turned to see a poster of Roy, sporting a Chelsea kit and a very shaggy haircut tacked to Jamie’s wall.

“Ah, yes,” Simon looked to the footballer, “Many posters have come and gone over the years. Henry, Gerrard, Ronaldo…but Roy Kent, always remains.”

Y/n slapped a hand over her mouth and snorted, ignoring the daggers Roy was sending her way.

An phone alarm went off and Simon pulled the device out of his pocket. “Oh! Meat pies are done,” he said, “Excuse me.”

As he shut the door, another poster was revealed. This one of Keeley during her more risqué modeling days, holding two footballs against her breasts.

“Fucking hell,” she grunted.

“Yep, no, can’t do it,” Y/n finally found her voice and the doorknob. She wasn’t sure she could spend another second in Jamieland without her head exploding. “Simon!”

Their friendly host had barely made it down one of the stairs, “Yeah?”

“Let me help you with the pies,” Y/n jogged down the hall.

“Oh, no, you go ahead and look around,” he said kindly.

“No, really,” Y/n followed him down the staircase, “You’re kind enough to deal with three strangers barging into your house. It’s the least I can do.”

Simon scoffed lightheartedly as he led them into the kitchen, “No friend of Jamie’s is a stranger in this house,” he slipped on a pair of oven mitts, “Right, if you want to place these on the cooling rack.”

Simon pulled out the tray of pies and set them on the stove. Y/n went about setting them on the racks, wondering if she’d made the better choice. Now, instead of sitting in Jamie’s bedroom, she was cooking with his step-dad.

“So,” Simon spoke as he moved about the kitchen, “I can gather what brought Jamie here, but what made you three tag along?”

“Oh,” Y/n searched for an explanation, “He’s been a bit…off…lately and we were just worried about him.”

“Ah, that makes sense,” he replied, “Coming home’s a big deal, especially in this case.”

Y/n furrowed her brows, “How do you figure?”

“Well, if you were playing against your hometown in your hometown,” Simon wiped his hands on his apron, “Might stir up some feelings.”

Said out in the open, it all sounded so obvious. Of course Jamie was struggling with playing Man City. Not only that, he hadn’t spoken to his dad in ages and it was almost guaranteed the bastard would show up to cheer against his own son.

Y/n sighed, she felt like an idiot.

“Speaking of home,” Simon broke her out of her head, “Your accent doesn’t suggest you’re from around here.”

“No,” Y/n returned to their conversation, “I, uh, moved here for school and never left.”

“Oh, fascinating. What made you stay?”

Y/n shrugged and placed the last of the pies on the cooling rack. “I was just settled and didn’t want to leave.”

“That must’ve been awful for your parents,” Simon said, “When Jamie moved to London, Georgie was devastated, and that’s only a half day’s drive. I can’t imagine a whole ocean’s worth of distance.”

If Y/n thought the night couldn’t get any more uncomfortable, the mention of her parents proved her wrong. Between the location, a vulnerable Jamie in the next room, and her family being brought up, she thought she might burst into tears.

“They’re okay with it,” she answered.

“Gosh,” Simon commented, stood at the island, “That can’t be true.”

“It is,” Y/n replied quickly and spun around, attempting a smile, “But I’ve got a lovely life here.”

“Of course,” he grinned, “Working for a football club’s got to be exciting. Jamie’s mentioned you plenty.”

Y/n wasn’t moving, but she could feel everything inside her stop. “Jamie’s…mentioned me?”

“Loads,” Simon nodded, “He calls round every once in a while. Obviously he keeps busy, but the name Y/n has come up nearly every conversation. I thought I might break into hives when Georgie told me about the Christmas dinner you two cooked.”

Simon began to recount all the memories shared between Jamie and Y/n that he and Georgie had become privy to. It wasn’t just the more notable moments like their chaotic Christmas or helping Y/n move to Richmond, but the little ones too. Sneaking into the stadium for lunch breaks in the seats. Post-match interviews Y/n oversaw and how Jamie would try and make her laugh with his answers. Y/n making Jamie decorate his house because the bareness of it drove her crazy. Jamie showing up on Y/n’s doorstep on her birthday right at midnight. Trying to learn how to cook together after the disastrous Christmas dinner and kind of, almost, sort of succeeding. Picking one another’s songs at team karaoke nights. Conversations in the hallways of Nelson Road. Movies and shows suggested to one another and the reactions that followed.

The whole of Jamie and Y/n’s relationship was played back for her in his parent’s kitchen.

She was speechless.

“I, uh,” she managed, her eyes beginning to glisten, “I didn’t know Jamie talked that much about his friends.”

“His friends?” Simon looked to Y/n before ducking his eyes away when he saw she was serious, “Oh, yes…his friends.”

The small slip was enough to confirm what Y/n already suspected.

“Um,” she said, her throat suddenly thick, “It’s getting late. Would you mimd telling Roy and Keeley I took a cab back to the hotel?”

“Of course,” Simon smiled, “Can I send you home with a pie?”

“Oh, no, that’s alright,” Y/n was already crossing the kitchen, “But thank you so much for the scones. Please tell Georgie thank you for letting us interrupt your night.”

Simon waved her off, “Nonsense. Get back safe.”

Y/n speed walked down the hall, not sparing so much as a glance in the living room’s direction. She threw the front door open and hurried down the way. With shaking hands, she pulled out her phone and ordered an Uber.

Her breath came in quick puffs, the anxiety creating quite a home in her chest. She was on the verge of having the worst anxiety attack of her life, all because she’d come to the conclusion that she was cared for. No, this wasn’t care. This was something else entirely.

Little did she know, the second he’d heard her brush through the hall, Jamie was on high alert. He’d looked up from his mom, jumping to a seated position as the door slammed shut.

“Was that Y/n?” He asked Simon as he passed by the living room.

“Yes, she said she had to get back to the hotel,” Simon answered, grabbing the plate of half eaten scones from the coffee table.

Jamie was up and off the couch in an instant, hurrying down the hall and out the front door. Y/n was stood on the sidewalk, her hand pressed to her chest as if she was on the verge of collapsing.

“Hey.”

Y/n’s head whipped around, Jamie was jogging down the steps to her. He kept a fair bit of distance between them at first, unsure of how she felt about his presence. All she could do was attempt another breath.

“Hey,” Jamie crossed the space, deciding to reach for Y/n’s arms, “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she shook her head and avoided meeting Jamie’s concerned eyes.

“No, what’s wrong?” Jamie’s thumbs stroked over her sweater.

For all her fight, Y/n couldn’t bring herself to battle the warm grip Jamie had on her. She’d missed it.

“I’m fine, Jamie,” she lied once more, “I just want to go back to the hotel.”

Jamie scanned her face, finding the tears in her red eyes before she could hide them. Just as much as there was something wrong with him, there was something eating away at Y/n.

In the three weeks they’d stayed away from one another, Jamie had found life to be unbearable. The anxiety about playing Man City and the possibility of seeing his father once more had manifested in his playing. He’d struggled through training more and more, slowly becoming paralyzed by the lack of his usual fire. Without Y/n there to go and vent all his fears to, someone who understood without him ever having to explain a thing, it had all snowballed. Breaking down in the boot room and sobbing into Roy’s shoulder could have been avoided. His panic attack when Keeley had come to his room to check on him would have never happened.

But it wasn’t just that. Jamie found himself missing Y/n in the dullest of moments. Making dinner for himself, searching for something on television, driving home from work. Sleep was nearly impossible now that he’d gotten to fade out with her in his arms. The vacancy she’d left in his life was overwhelming. Jamie had never wanted to share such insignificant moments with someone in his life. He’d never felt as unsettled without someone.

This wasn’t some infatuation. He couldn’t live without her.

“Look,” Jamie tilted her head up, her eyes finally meeting his, “I know everything’s wrecked a-and we fucked it all up but…” his breath came out trembling, “But I love you.”

Y/n cries began to shake her chest.

“And I know this is the worst fucking time to say it,” Jamie bit back a laugh, but he felt ten tons lighter with the words finally spoken, “But I don’t regret what happened. If I could go back and do it a hundred times over, I would.”

A single cry escaped Y/n.

“And I need you,” Jamie spoke urgently, dragging a hand to Y/n’s cheek, brushing a thumb over the wet skin, “I need you with me ‘cause I don’t know what the fuck I’m doin’ without you. I don’t. You’ve fucking ruined me.”

Y/n was caught somewhere between a frown and a smile. Her worst fear and her greatest wish.

“Don’t leave, please,” Jamie pleaded, slipping his free hand around Y/n’s waist when she didn’t recoil at his touch. “I wanna be with you.”

Y/n’s sobs caused her whole body to shudder, which only made Jamie to pull her closer. She ended up enveloped in his arms, the only place she’d truly desired to be since the moment she’d left them.

Jamie pressed a kiss to Y/n’s forehead, trying to ease whatever pain and pour out his sentiments. The relief of holding her again was all-consuming and he reveled in it.

For a moment, they both realized what they could have. They could put the whole horrid separation behind them and let themselves be happy. They could come home to one another. They could hold nothing back from each other. They could build a life together and give each other all the love they’d ever been deprived of.

Where Jamie felt hope, cradling the girl he loved, Y/n felt panic, fearing the risk more than the loss.

“Jamie,” she whispered, “No.”

Jamie pulled back, fearfully gazing into her bloodshot eyes. “What do you mean?”

“No,” Y/n repeated, “We can’t.”

“Wh-“ he stammered, she was slipping away from him, “What are you talking about? We can.”

Y/n whined, “I can’t, Jamie. I can’t.”

“You can, you can,” Jamie insisted, holding Y/n’s cheek with purpose. He caught the headlights of the Uber coming down his street, “Why? Why can’t we have this?”

“Tell me,” Jamie softly begged, “Tell me why. Why can’t we have this?”

Finally, Y/n’s emotions burst, everything flooding out in a mess of terror.

“Because I don’t want this,” she exclaimed tearfully, “I don’t want this, Jamie. I don’t want y-“

She caught herself before she could finish it, but it was still too late. The damage had been done, and the wreckage spread across Jamie’s face. His lips parted in shock and his touch lost its urgency.

In her blind panic, Y/n hadn’t expected such a lie to come out of her mouth. But there was no taking it back, and the fear of all Jamie was ready to give was possessing her. This was the only way to keep herself safe.

Behind them, the Uber driver had pulled up to the house. “Oi, one of you Y/n?”

Y/n blinked up at Jamie, who was searching her eyes for the dishonesty in what she’d said. He found it so easily, but her determination to run was visibly clearer.

“Please let me go,” Y/n asked, her voice barely audible. She couldn’t even look him in the eyes as she spoke.

Jamie knew there was no more fight to give. He’d poured the contents of his heart out to her fruitlessly. He couldn’t force her to face the truth, that she might love him back, or that she even cared that he loved her. He was out of plays to make, all he could do was let her walk away.

He dropped his hands as slow as he could, savoring the last feel of her he’d get. Y/n trembled as his fingers left her face, committing his touch to her memory. This was the end before they even reached the beginning.

“In or out, love,” the driver interrupted.

Summoning the last of her strength, Y/n sought out Jamie’s eyes, glistening with tears now. She’d dealt the ultimate blow to an already wounded soldier. Slowly, she backed away from him, fighting every urge to run back into his arms and take it all back. If he took one step towards her, she knew she’d do it.

Jamie obeyed her wishes and didn’t move.

With one final gaze, Y/n turned away, climbing into the backseat of the Uber. He didn’t wait to drive, pulling the car away from as soon as she’d shut the door.

Y/n watched Jamie in the rear view mirror before it became too much. She dissolved to silent wracking sobs, caving in on herself. Not only had she walked away from the man she knew she surely loved, but she’d broken his heart doing so. The self-destruction was no longer only affecting her, she was destroying those around her.

Jamie wiped a shaking hand over his face as he watched the car carry Y/n away. He struggled to comprehend all that had just happened. He’d lost her.

Somehow, he carried himself back inside. He shuffled robotically back into the living room. His mum and Simon were seated on the couch, speaking in hushed tones.

Georgie looked expectantly to her son. Jamie had never needed to talk about him and Y/n in so many words. She knew exactly what he felt. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Jamie stared ahead at the carpet.

“Did you talk to her?” Georgie asked, asking something far deeper.

Jamie nodded.

“Does she feel the same?”

There was the true answer, and there was the easy answer. Jamie chose the latter.

“No.”

——————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars @im-a-weirdo-for-life @mindless-rock (tags cont. in comments ❤️)

[cosmicdream222]

The time I woke up in the void, before I even knew what the void was

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・。.。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

As mentioned in this post, here is the story about how I woke up in the void before I knew what it was.

I came across @ellequarius success story on entering the void while falling asleep in class and I got major chills and a flashback to when something similar happened to me in HS. I didn’t even know about manifesting or the void at the time but now I realize I woke up in the void 🤯 It was such a strange and memorable experience, I still remember it vividly (I’m an adult, I graduated HS long ago lol).

It was my senior year, I was in science class and we had a substitute who gave us a free study period and dimmed the lights to put on a movie. I was exhausted so I just crossed my arms on my desk, put my head down and fell asleep.

Idk how long I was out, but before waking up I found myself in a weird kinda state. I thought I was dreaming, although nothing was happening. Everything was dark but it wasn’t like being in a dark room - it felt like looking at a TV or computer screen that was turned on but not showing a picture, there was some static and a sense of depth. A bit like outer space.

I had been thinking about my friend in Japan who I hadn’t talked to in a few weeks. I guess because she was on my mind, I imagined seeing a notification pop up on the “screen”, saying I had a new email from her. Then I woke up and went to my next class.

When I got to a computer, I found that I had indeed received an email from my friend, around the exact time I had “dreamed” it. I always thought it was a psychic dream, or just a freaky coincidence. But now I’m sure I manifested it in the void.

I was totally mindblown as since I found out about the void last year, I’ve been endlessly researching, wondering if it’s really real and trying different methods wanting to experience it for the first time - when I had already experienced it so long ago? 😭 It’s like I found an Easter egg in my brain!

I’m theorizing that sleeping position can have an effect on the ease in which you enter the void. Since it’s happened to several people while sleeping in class, taking naps, and there is also the popular recliner method, it seems that unusual sleeping positions put you in a lighter sleep, which can help access alternate states easier.

I’ve also realized since I figured this out a couple weeks ago, pretty much every time I have a natural awakening in the early morning, I do wake up in the void. It even happened this morning (2/27 as I type this) early in the morning after several hours of sleep, and I was lying on my back which is not my most comfortable sleeping position.

It’s the same kind of experience, and I don’t hear anything, but my first natural instinct when I wake up is to wonder where the sounds of my environment are. So I end up tuning in to my room to try to hear things, and snapping out of the void.

Only a matter of time before I figure out how to remain there aware long enough to affirm for my desires 😭

[explorationsoftheid]

Autism: A Senior Perspective

Recently there was a post on here where someone was saying how everyone automatically hates us because of our autism. How they may act nice to our face, but trash talk us once we’re out of earshot. How everyone will abuse, even kill us, because they can’t stand our autism. I replied that they were just wrong about that. That everyone doesn’t automatically hate us.

The more I thought about it though, the more I saw this was an opportunity for those of us who are older and are autistic, to share our perspectives, our experiences. I think it might help those who are young to know what we went through, how we coped, how our lives have turned out. Most importantly that it can get better.

I’ll start:

I’m 62 years old. Looking back with what I know now it’s clear that I was definitely autistic as a child. Today, my teachers would have pressed to get me tested, but in the 1970s, well autism wasn’t on anyones radar. I doubt my parents would have gone along with that anyway. They were the, “Straighten up and do what you’re supposed to”, and “Boys don’t cry” attitude so common of their generation. I had significant trouble with social interactions, I stuttered, and fought like hell to not melt down in loud and overwhelming situations. Public school was unfortunately full of those. I liked procedure and process, there was a right way and a wrong way to do things and I would get upset if someone broke ‘the rules’. I would obsess over particular subjects. Actually I drove some of my teachers nuts. They would give me a writing assignment and I would turn in a top quality report, but I would have somehow twisted what they wanted into what I wanted to write about.

High School was very confusing. People started dating and going to dances, and all that. I kept asking, only half as a joke if I had missed a class or something because it was all so strange to me. I went off to University and really did well there. My grades weren’t good, (I had to work well over full time to afford to stay in school) but I loved academia. The order, the quiet of the library, being able to study a subject that I was totally onto because I had chosen it as my major. The people I worked with, at all of my jobs, grew to understand my ‘quirks’ and were fine with them. I only wish I hadn’t had to work so much. My middling grades meant that by the time I graduated, I was mentally exhausted, and didn’t qualify for Grad School.

So, I got a job and had to move across the country. There I met someone who I have spent the succeeding 36 years with. They understand me, accept that sometimes I’m a bit odd. Sometimes I react badly to things. Sometimes I just have to say no, and they roll with that.

So I’m now approaching retirement. In the last few years I finally figured out that autism was the reason for all the trouble I’ve had over the years. I’m not lazy, or dumb, or anything like that, I’m autistic. I’m neurodivergent, and that’s the way it is. The worst time frankly was in my childhood and my teens. Since then I’ve learned how to deal with the world. I’ve found people who like me for me, people I don’t have to mask or put on an act around. I’ve found other autistic people and am not the only one anymore. I figured out what jobs suited my talents, and limitations (Retail? No! Computer Wizard or someone who makes things work in the background? Yes!) I’m approaching retirement and honestly things are going pretty well now.

So fellow Autistic Seniors, (That is to say anyone that thinks of themselves as older than most), what was your experience living your life as an autistic person? How have things turned out for you? What advice would you give to children or teens that are struggling to cope?

[lambertdiary]

I LOVE ANGST could you maybe do a part 2 of sorry won't fix this?? and make it hurt really bad pls

"Sorry Won't Fix This" Masterlist

A/N: I’ve had this on my drafts for like a week but I finally finished it! Sorry it took so long to post (as always). Also I don’t know if “I made it hurt” but I just went for something very dramatic, like actually unnecessary drama, so I guess let me know what you guys think!! Thanks for reading 🫶🏻

Word Count: 2.1+k

Warnings: angst, language, jealousy, Dalton being shitty, heated argument, mentions of cheating

MASTELIST ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎‎✩ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎SEND ME A REQUEST

It’s Too Late

After the New Year’s party, Dalton tried to go after Y/N, but Chloe and her friends caught him before he could leave the mansion “You’re leaving so soon?” Chloe asked him.

“Uh- My friends are leaving” He replied, looking back at the door, watching them leave together.

Chloe followed his stare and landed on Y/N and Chris, and then got closer to his ear to make sure he would hear her “Well, seems like they have each other, I’m sure they’re gonna be okay” She wrapped her arms around his neck, forcing him to look at her “I want you to stay here with me”

Dalton was at a loss of words, maybe his intoxicated system getting in the way of thinking about the right thing to do, but he nodded frantically when he noticed her leaning in for a kiss again. 

It’s been weeks since the New Year’s incident. Y/N and Dalton have not talked to each other, and Chris was left with the annoying ‘messenger girl’ role. She didn’t wanna have to pick a side, they were both her friends and she just wanted things to go back to normal, but if she had to she would side with Y/N, cause there was no denying it was a pretty shitty thing to do and she completely understood Y/N wanting to cut him off.

Dalton tried to reach out to Y/N several times, but after their heated argument she knew they could never be friends again, but he felt like he could still fix it, even though he probably wouldn’t know what to say and the fact that he never broke contact with Chloe after the party made it a little more difficult, but he made a good job at keeping it a secret from both of them.

For days Y/N avoided going to her favourite places just to ensure she wouldn’t see him before she was entirely over him, but she got tired of being locked in her room waiting for her stupid feelings to go away, so she decided to get her act together and not care about him.

After class, Y/N walked to one of the coffee shops she loved. She was planning on staying there and getting some work done on her computer, so once she entered the café she carefully thought about her order, considering buying something to eat as well.

Dalton was there too, and he couldn’t help but look at her when she walked in. He started sweating and quickly turned around and slowly sank into his seat, hoping she wouldn’t recognize him, the last thing he wanted was for Y/N to see him with Chloe.

“What’s wrong?” Chloe asked, looking around trying to find the reason for his actions. 

“Nothing, this chair is just a little uncomfortable” He laughed nervously.

She got closer to him and whispered “Do you wanna go back to your dorm?”

He nodded as he unhurriedly stood up, subtly looking back at Y/N to try and avoid her. 

Chloe held his hand and Dalton couldn't say no to her, holding her back and looking down the entire time. Dalton felt like he was holding his breath the whole walk to the exit and he was ready to leave the café, but his hopes of going unnoticed vanished when he heard Chloe greet Y/N.

“Y/N!” Chloe exclaimed, getting her attention. Y/N turned to look at her, but her demeanour changed completely when she saw him and their hands connecting “I haven’t seen you since the party”

“Oh- hi” Y/N gave them a phoney smile “Um… I haven’t been around much” She admitted.

Dalton didn’t dare to look up at her, feeling too much shame to meet her gaze “Well we should hang out sometime, I haven’t had a chance to meet with Dalton’s friends” She said looking at him, but his eyes were still fixated on the floor “You never properly introduced us”

“Uh-” He didn’t know what to say or do, knowing that he would probably regret it no matter what “Sorry, Y/N this is Chloe, my- uh, we met in the art building, her roommate is in my class” He stammered.

Chloe’s smile faded a little, but Y/N didn’t wanna be the reason for someone else’s sadness “We should definitely hang out Chloe, we can drag Chris with us too”

Her face lit up and her smile came back “I would love that! I’ll have Dalton give me your number and we can talk” Chloe started to walk towards the door again, she waved Y/N goodbye and left  the establishment still holding Dalton’s hand.

Y/N had no reason to be mad or jealous, she didn’t wanna be, they made it clear they were done with each other last time they spoke, but for some reason she couldn’t bury her feelings, no matter how hard she tried. A day didn’t go by where she didn't regret confessing she still had feelings for him, those words slipping out of her mouth would haunt her in the darkest nights when he was the only one present in her mind. It was obvious he was over her, so why was it so hard to let him go?

She went back to her dorm and tried to get her mind to focus on her schoolwork. Later that night, a knock on her door interrupted her. She left her chair and went to open the door, thinking Chris had forgotten her key again, but instead she found Chloe standing on the other side. Chloe smiled at her and a resentful feeling went through her body. Y/N sighed and smiled back, reminding herself that she had no reason to be bitter towards her.

“Hey!” She said, awkwardly waving at Y/N “I guess it’s a little weird to just show up at your door but I hope you don’t mind”

Y/N shook her head and moved to the side, signalling Chloe to come in “Not at all, don’t worry”

“Thanks” She said, stepping in and looking around, analysing Y/N’s dorm “Woah, your dorm is really pretty, really… tidy” 

“Thank you” Y/N laughed “I guess it’s very different from Dalton’s huh?”

“Tell me about it, when he got rid of a few portraits on his wall to make space to put mine up, he left them on the floor and have been there for weeks ” She said smiling. Y/N just stared at her, wondering if the portraits he got rid of were the ones he painted when they were together.

Y/N was about to say something, but Chloe continued talking “Listen… Dalton told me about you guys” She stopped for a moment “And I think it would be better for us if you… maybe stopped being friends” 

Y/N scoffed, looking away from Chloe to stop herself from saying something she would regret “We’re not friends” She clarified “I don’t know if he told you this but we haven’t talked in weeks, so I guess you have nothing to worry about” She snapped.

“Okay, glad we’re on the same page” Chloe made her way to the door and opened it, but before leaving she turned around one more time and said “He told me you’re still in love with him so I’m sure you understand why I’d feel uncomfortable” She didn’t wait for a reply and just closed the door behind her, leaving Y/N feeling a million different emotions.

Now she was mad, and this time she had a reason to. She looked for her phone and was about to call Dalton, but immediately stopped herself, maybe she had nothing left to discuss with him, it was clear he wanted her out of his life.

Chloe went back downstairs to Dalton’s dorm. He didn’t know where she had been, and him telling her about his past relationship with Y/N and that she was still in love with him was just an excuse to have Chloe stop asking about her after the coffee shop encounter. He never intended for Y/N to find out, and he obviously never thought Chloe would confront her about it.

She stayed there with him for a few more hours, but finally said she had to go back to her own dorm “Are you sure you can’t stay tonight?” He asked her, walking her to his door.

Chloe shook his head and kissed him again “I have an early day tomorrow, sorry”

“Okay” He giggled, caressing her cheek “But I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Of course” He gave her a hug, his hands brushing her back as he inhaled her scent “And don’t worry about Y/N, she’s not gonna be a problem”

Dalton pulled away and furrowed his eyebrows “What do you mean?”

“I talked to her and she basically promised she won’t bother us” Chloe said nonchalantly.

Dalton could feel his heart starting to race “What did you tell her?”

“What you told me” She shrugged her shoulders and kissed him one more time, walking away as if nothing happened.

Dalton stood there processing what Chloe said, thinking about what he should do next. After a moment, he closed the door and started walking to Y/N’s dorm, dreading the conversation that was about to happen.

He knocked on her door and started calling her name more desperately when he got no answer.

A girl in the dorm next door opened her door and looked at him with annoyance “Are you kidding? It’s midnight” 

“Sorry” He whispered as he watched her go back in and slam her door. He was about to give up but the door in front of him opened, revealing a furious Y/N.

“Shit- Y/N, I can explain” He said right away, entering her room.

“Explain what?”

“This- I didn’t mean for any of this to happen” Dalton looked at her expecting some kind of response, but Y/N just gave him a blank stare “I’m sorry, I didn’t think Chloe would take things this far and after the party she just kept calling me so we kept seeing each other. I guess she’s my- She wanted to be more and I-” He sighed, running out of things to say “Aren’t you gonna say anything?”

“Yeah. What the fuck is your problem?” 

“My problem is i’m in love with you”

Y/N scoffed “Don’t”

“Why?”

“Because I would hate to know that you’re chasing someone else while being with me” She snapped “Which you probably did”

“I never cheated on you”

“Well- I don’t know Dalton, I feel like I don’t know you” She could feel her eyes starting to drip, wondering if he did the same thing while being with her “Why are you doing this?”

“Because you were right, it was my fault that things didn’t work out between us and I wish I knew that sooner” He approached her “I just wanna fix things”

She shook her head and took a step back “It doesn’t matter, you can’t do this to her” “But I wanna be with you”

“It’s too late, it’s over”

“Just like that?” He whispered “Then why did you tell me you still loved me?”

“I don’t know, Dalton, but even after I confessed my feelings for you, you still went back to her… And you stayed with her all this time”

“That doesn’t mean anything”

She scoffed again, this time more annoyed “Well, you’re with her now but you’re standing here in the middle of the night saying that you love me. How could I ever trust you?” Dalton stayed silent “I mean, do you blame Chloe for feeling that way? How do you think she would feel if she knew what you’re doing right now?”

Dalton took a deep breath as he tried to collect his thoughts. Y/N was right, and he knew she was “She’s not gonna know”

Y/N’s nostrils flared as her face was contorted with rage “You’re a coward, that’s what you are” She said, pointing a finger at him “You do realise that everything that happened is your fault? From us breaking up in the first place to whatever shit show you have going on with her”

“Y/N I’m sorry, I’ll talk to her… I’ll make it right but please” She watched as he got closer to her “Give me another chance”

There was a moment of utter silence, and Dalton’s eyes never left hers as he waited for her response “You should leave” He tried to beg her one more time, but she stopped him right away “When you talk to her please leave me out of it, I don’t wanna cause any more problems between you guys”

At that moment he completely gave up, knowing that no matter how hard he tried, he would never be able to get her back.

[tickle-minion]

The Photo Shoot

Pretty safe for work tickling story. Ended up a bit longer than I expected, but what can you do?

------

Ryan always knew he was going to make it big.  Ever since he was in high school he’d always gotten the lead parts in the school plays, and now that he was in university he was showing success in independent student productions.  Of course he didn’t make any money off of any of those, and tuition for his school was expensive, which meant he had to work and had thousands in student loans to look forward to once he was done.  He took this all in stride since he knew there was a pot of gold at the end of this very expensive rainbow.

One thing Ryan knew he needed if he was going to continue trying to be an actor was to get some professional pictures taken for auditions.  So far he’d gotten free head shots taken by photography students.  The problem is you get what you pay for, and some of the shots were clearly student work.

Luckily for Ryan, there were other photographers in town who were willing to work with students to get them some professional shots at a reduced rate.  After a few days of searching, Ryan came across a photographer named Jay.  He liked what he saw on Jay’s website (and liked his student discount even more) so he made an appointment to meet him.  The two met for a consultation and Ryan booked a time slot to come to Jay’s studio. 

On the day of the shoot, Jay brought several pairs of clothes to wear.  Something formal, something casual, some streetwear, etc.  When it came to the casual look, Jay instructed Ryan to take off his shoes and socks.

“Take them off?  Why?”

“Shows vulnerability.  Most people don’t show their feet at all, so it exposes a little bit more of you.”

Ryan wasn’t entirely convinced, but he still pulled off his shoes and socks and continued with the session.

It may have been his imagination, but Ryan felt that Jay kept glancing down at his bare feet.  It wasn’t super obvious, and as far as Ryan could tell his feet were never the focus of any shots, but Jay’s eyes kept trailing down to them.  Strange, yes, but Ryan didn’t want to cause a scene when he felt there was so much on the line.

Finally, with that last shot, they were done.

“Alright Ryan, that just about wraps it up.  I think we got some good shots, but it will take me a few days to go through and clean them up.”

“Wow, alright, thanks.  I’m looking forward to it.  Can’t wait to see how they turn out.”

Ryan started to put his socks back on.

“Hey, kid, before you go any further, I have a business proposition for you.  That is, if you’re looking to make a few bucks.”

Ryan stopped and looked over at the photographer.  Extra money was never a bad thing.

“I mean, money is money, I guess.  What are you looking for?  This isn’t something dirty, is it?  Because I’m not taking off my clothes.”

“Don’t worry, you’re already as undressed as you’d need to be.  I just want to make a little video to post on my website.”

Ryan’s eyes narrowed.

“I’ve seen your website.  You don’t have videos.”

The photographer gave a large toothy grin.

“Not that website, a different one.  Here, come and take a look.”

Jay motioned for Ryan to follow him to the back of the studio where he had a large computer setup.  Camera equipment and props were everywhere.

“Alright, just better not be anything too freaky.”

Ryan walked over to the far end of Jay’s studio on bare feet.  When he got to the computer he was shocked by what he saw on the screen.

“Are those guys getting… tickled?”

Jay nodded and scrolled down the page a bit, showing Ryan more videos.  Each one showed a young man (around Ryan’s age) being tickled.  Some were tied up, some had their feet in stocks, and some just had their ankles being held down.  Most were dressed like Ryan (which is to say fully dressed except for the shoes and socks), but others were in various states of undress.  No one looked naked, though.

“Yup.  Tickling sells well, you know.  Lots of guys, and hell, women too, love seeing guys getting tickled.  And it pays.”

Ryan’s ears perked up.

“People are willing to pay?”

“Oh sure.  People are willing to pay for these videos if the model is cute and ticklish enough.  And I have to say kid, you’re the exact type of guy they like to see.”

Ryan didn’t have much to say.  His eyes stayed glued to the screen.

“I’ll make you a deal.  You let me tickle you a little bit, just your feet so you don’t have to take anything else off, and not only will I not charge you for the shots, but I’ll actually give you a bit of what the video makes.  What do you say?”

Ryan wanted to say no right away, but he hesitated.  Not only would he get his shots for free, but he’d also get some cash for it, too?  It seemed too good to be true.

“I mean… alright.  I guess.  As long as this is just tickling.  I’m not doing anything else.”

“Alright, sounds good.  And don’t worry, all I do is tickle guys, nothing else.”

Jay explained what would happen: Ryan would lay face down on a couch in the studio, so no one could see his face, and hang his bare feet over the side of the couch.  Jay would sit on his legs and tickle his feet.  It sounded easy enough.  Ryan lay down, letting Jay move his body a little bit for the camera, and let himself relax (as much as he could).  Once he was in place, Jay set up the camera and started recording.

Ryan was laying down on his stomach, bare feet on the arm of the couch, when he felt Jay straddle his ankles.

“Alright folks, this is our new tickle toy Brad.  This is his first time with us, so let’s see how ticklish he is.”

Ryan (apparently going by the name Brad) tensed his whole body, waiting for whatever was supposed to come.  Suddenly, he felt one finger on his right sole.  It started up near his heel and trailed down towards his toes.  Ryan flexed and curled his foot at the light ticklish sensation.  No one had ever touched his feet (not that he could remember, anyways) so it was a strange feeling.  The finger repeated the same movement on his left sole.  This time Ryan wiggled a little bit under Jay, his foot waving side to side.

“Got some squirming going on it looks like.  Let’s try something a little more ticklish”

One finger, one at a time, on each sole was suddenly replaced with five fingers on each sole.  Those fingers dug into the insteps of his feet, scratching the soft sensitive skin there.  Ryan jumped (though stayed pinned down by Jay’s weight) and started to kick his feet.  

“Oh shit, what the fuck?!”

“Oh yeah, we got a ticklish one here.”

The fingers really worked their way in there, kneading the flesh of his feet.  Ryan kept trying to kick those tickling fingers away, but Jay’s grip was just too strong.  There was nothing that Ryan could do to make it stop.  He could, of course, always say stop, but then he’d have to pay for his headshots.  That was a huge motivation to stay here on the couch.

Several minutes after just assaulting the center of his feet, the hands started roaming over the real estate that was Ryan’s soft size 12 soles.  The fingers came up to Ryan’s heels and attacked.  Ryan jumped, and was suddenly barking out with laughter when Jay found an especially ticklish spot: the part of his sole right before his heel.  

“Oh, sounds like we got a live one here!”

“NOO!  PLEEEEASE!”

Fingers descended on that spot on each foot.  It wasn’t just fingers working their way into the foot, but now nails were scraping and scratching too.  The only thing Ryan’s over stimulated mind could think of was that this was like ringing a doorbell.  It was loud, it was intense, and it was beyond annoying that Jay found this spot that reduced him to a laughing mess.

“Holy crap is he sensitive right here.  How are you doing Brad?  Want me to stop?”

“Y-Y-YES PL-PL-PLEEEEASE!”

“No?  You’re all good?  Sounds great to me!”

“NOOO!”

Jay continued to exploit the sensitive spot, attacking viciously with his fingers.  Ryan was sure he was going to pass out when the tickling mercifully ended.

“Th-thank God…”

“He thought that was bad, wait till he gets a load of this…”

“Wait, what?!”

“Here comes the brush!”

Ryan’s entire body jolted when a broad hairbrush started attacking that same sensitive spot.  The brush moved violently back and forth with cruel abandon.  This was the worst feeling yet.  Ryan was in absolute hysterics, thrashing as much as he could, trying to buck Jay off his legs.  His feet kicked and squirmed to get away, one foot trying to cover the other for protection.  His face and throat were starting to get sore from the laughter.

“Oh yeah, we got him right here.”

Not even able to say anything, Ryan continued to cackle.  The brush alternated between feet, and each time it switched feet it was like the first time all over again.  Tears were starting to stream from his tightly shut eyes.  This was the first time he truly regretted his decision, and despite the promise of free shots and money, he found the urge to call out stop was right on the tip of his tongue.  He bit it back though, he wasn’t going to give up.

The tickling changed, and now the brush was going up and down his soles.  Again, Ryan tried curling his foot up to avoid the tickling, but Jay grabbed Ryan’s toes and flexed them back, stretching his sole out.  Jay’s grip was too strong and Ryan wasn’t able to escape.  He laughed and giggled, unable to stop as the brush scrubbed up and down his flexed sole.  People got off on this?  Ryan figured they must all be sadists.

“Let’s see how ticklish Brad’s toes are.”

The brush stopped for just a second (giving Ryan exactly one second of peace) before attacking the toes that Jay was holding back.  Oh god.  This was bad.  This was worse than the spot hear his heels.  This was like fire.  Ryan didn’t just laugh, he was screaming.  Tears were flowing so freely that he could taste them on his lips.  He wanted to yell stop, he wanted this tickling to end, but he couldn’t form the words.

Jay continued tickling those toes, holding them tightly, even as the feet started to become slick with sweat.  This of course made the brush slide and glide all the more easily.  The brush scrubbed the tips of the toes all the way down to the sensitive little gap under each toe.

The tickling continued for a few minutes until finally, mercifully, it stopped.

“There we go, that was Brad.  I think he did pretty well.  Let me know if you want to see more of this boy.”

Jay concluded by slapping both of Ryan’s sensitive soles, making him jump and squeak.

Jay got up off of Ryan and turned off the camera.

“There we go kid, that’s it.  You did good, I have to say, I think you’re going to be pretty popular.”

“Holy shit that was bad.  Like… holy shit.  You were torturing me.”

Jay laughed.

“That’s why they call it tickle torture.  People love it.”

Ryan didn’t want to stick around much longer.  He got up off the couch (his clothes were sticking to his body from all the sweat), put his shoes and socks back on (which was hard since his feet were so sensitive after the tickling), thanked Jay and left.

Several days later two things dropped in Ryan’s email.  The first was a set of edited photographs.  Ryan was happy to see that they looked professional and much better than any of the student work he’d had done so far.  The second was much more interesting.  It was an e-transfer for a couple of hundred dollars.

Ryan stared at the screen for a few minutes before he decided to call Jay.  

“Hello?”

“Hey man, It’s Ryan.  Thanks for the pictures, I just got them.  They’re really good”

“No worries, I’m happy you’re happy.”

“So… what was the money you sent?”

“I told you that you’d get a bit of the money from the tickle video.  It was pretty popular right off the bat, so that’s your share.”

“All that for just letting you tickle my feet?”

“Oh yeah.  And if you’re ever interested we could do it again.  You could maybe even make some more next time.”

“Like… how much more?”

“Depends on how far you’re willing to go.  There’s some bondage, there’s some upper body tickling, there’s even some foot worship and tickling that drives some people wild.  You interested?”

Ryan looked at the e-transfer again.

“Yeah, maybe.  Tell me more.”

[spinningwebsandtales]

The Shape Of You

Michael Myers X FemReader

Rating: T+

Warnings: Blood, mentions of murder, weapons, basically all the good stuff that comes in a Halloween movie.

Word Count: 5.1k

Pt. 2: here Pt. 3 here Pt. 4 here Pt. 5 here Pt. 6 here

(A/N:) I actually wasn’t going to post this as I had wrote it for me and a friend but after having so much fun and it turning out better than I possibly could imagine. I changed my mind. I’ve been a Halloween fan for years now and Michael has been my favorite slasher since I was a kid. I just grew up and found my interests leaning elsewhere. I don’t know. But this is the outcome of that! XD I’m still working on my last four Halloween imagines and hopefully I’ll have them done in time but for now to all you Michael fangirls I hope you enjoy this little piece that I had a blast writing! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

Halloween once again had come upon the town of Haddonfield and while other people your age were planning to go out out for partying and drinking, you found yourself wanting to just enjoy time at home, alone. Life had been hectic here lately and while you absolutely loved Halloween, the thought of going out and doing normal things didn’t seem appealing. While typing away at the computer on your desk you planned a whole evening of all the things you wanted to do while staying indoors. Favorite scary movies, popcorn, and that leftover pasta from the famous Italian restaurant down the street you ordered last night. It all sounded like heavenly bliss before your atmosphere was shattered by someone taking a seat on the top of your desk.

“So I was thinking,” your intruder started and you rolled your eyes as you realized just who barged in on your happy thoughts.

“Hi Ian,” you replied. While you tried to get along with everyone in the office Ian was the one person who would never take no for an answer. Pushy and clingy he had tried so many times to get you to go out with him, though you weren’t interested in dating at the moment and told him so.

“Hi (Y/N). How about me and you go out for some drinks and Halloween treats?”

“No thanks,” you grinned warmly but gritted your teeth behind your lips. “I already have plans and I wasn’t wanting to go out tonight.”

“What? Scared of the Boogeyman are we,” he chuckled.

“As a matter of fact,” you paused grin never wavering though your hands were shaking a little over the keys of the computer, “I am. I had bad experiences when I was a child.”

Ian’s flirtatious smile faltered into one of sympathy. Now you were fighting hard to keep from slapping him. ‘Today is not the day to get fired.’ You repeated mentally. ‘Today is not the day to get fired.’

“I’m sure I can help you make better memories to overtake those bad ones,” he reached over to pat your head unknowingly how much danger he was putting his appendage in.

“While I really appreciate you,” your bright eyes could melt steel with the glare you were giving him, “I will just have to pass. This week has really been rough and there’s things around the house I need to take care of. I’m sure Julie would be more than happy to take my place. You two go out and have a good time for me. Have a nice evening Ian.” You didn’t leave any room for arguments as you packed up your belongings, shutting down the computer, and power walked out of the building. Once outside in the crisp autumn air did you finally sigh in relief. Children rushed down the sidewalk in their costumes chasing one another with gleeful screams. You grinned, happy to know that the memory of all those years ago were finally disappearing. While others had called the man that had brought terror on the quiet town a monster, you weren’t so sure. There was always two sides and no one was truly evil without something behind their reasoning.

Dodging kids while making your way to your car in the company parking lot, you felt a chill run down your spine. Not from the wind this time but like you were being watched. Glancing at your surroundings while you fumbled with your car keys and since you weren’t paying attention, the keys tumbled from the your hand hitting the ground. You bent down to pick them back up while cursing up a storm, you contemplated just walking home. It was such a nice day and the autumn breeze was calling your name. But after the feeling of being watched and seeing the person of your ire exit the front door of the office building, you hurriedly grabbed your keys before unlocking the door, buckling quickly, and speeding out of the parking lot. Ian tried chasing you down at the entrance but you just acted like you thought he was waving goodbye to you and left him in a cloud of exhaust.

 It wasn’t until you were in your driveway did you finally breathe a sigh of relief. Years ago when the murders had happened in Haddonfield, it had shaken up the whole town. You included, despite not knowing the teens at that time. You were a little older than them, but it didn’t matter it was scary to think of somebody, anybody really, losing their life in such a way. It had ruined Halloween for you, for a little while but now as the trauma was winding down you were enjoying it more and more. But that didn’t change the fact you didn’t feel like going out and you still wanted to punch Ian in the face for being an insensitive jerk. Groaning you planted your face into the steering wheel trying to calm yourself once more. Maybe tomorrow will be a good day to get fired. Who were you kidding though? You needed the job and you weren’t about to go back living with your parents who hovered over every detail of your life, especially about your dating life, or lack of one. Heaving another groan you grabbed your purse from the passenger seat and shut the car off. 

The sun was beginning to set and when you opened the car door your hair was tussled by a sudden frosty gust. Children giggled and screamed as they went through the neighborhood stopping door to door trick-or-treating. You forgot your fear for one moment and just relished in other’s festivities. Unlocking the front door you kicked off your shoes before dropping the bag right by the door. You would worry about picking up later, right now your leftovers were calling and there was supposed to be a really good movie on TV this evening.

The microwave whirled as you watched the screen from the kitchen not wanting to miss one part. As soon as the microwave beeped the channel started a commercial break, now you could hurry and finish getting your dinner ready before the movie came back on. Grabbing a soda, napkin, and silverware you hurried back to your couch before setting everything down. You ate in silence focusing on what was happening between the characters on screen, but halfway through the movie you were starting to get bored. It also didn’t help that you were getting antsy from sitting at a desk all day. Then you went back to thinking about Ian and how pushy he was today, which caused your blood pressure to begin to rise. Giving up, you grabbed a light jacket and slipped on some shoes, you felt like a walk would be the perfect remedy for your sudden energy spurt. Though as soon as you slipped out of the front door the channel you were watching suddenly interrupted the movie with a breaking news bulletin.

  “Haddonfield PD is urging residences to stay inside this evening as a mental patient has escaped Grove Sanitarium. The escapee is reported to be Michael Myers, the man who was behind the horrific murders that left this peaceful town in tatters at his evil deeds several years ago. Keep all doors and windows locked and for no reason should residents leave their homes. God protect us all. Stay safe and good evening.”

Once the reporter finished the TV stayed on a loop announcing the escape but it was too late you were already on the darkened streets.

You tightened your jacket closer to your body as you treaded across the sidewalk under the streetlights. You were slightly confused on where everyone was at. It wasn’t that late and it had you worried on what could have made everyone go home early. Though Halloween did fall in the middle of the week where children did have school in the morning and parents had to work. So you just chalked everything up to people needing to go home to prepare for their busy lives tomorrow. While you too had work in the morning you couldn’t bring yourself to go home just yet as you were enjoying your Halloween walk looking at all the carved pumpkins and decorations on your neighbor’s porches. You brushed hair from your eyes as you braved another chilling breeze. But the further you got from your house the more your senses were screaming for you to go back. It was just too quiet and everyone’s porch lights were off. Your breathing quickened and your body quivered uncontrollably, it was then you turned quickly and began to sprint back home.

 You weren’t far from your destination when you drove face first into something solid. Hitting the concrete hard and skinning the palm of your hands you rubbed your sore nose before looking up to whatever you ran into. A form stood before you the light causing the front of his body to be covered in slithering shadows.

“E-excuse me,” you stuttered trying to rise from the ground. He stepped closer wordlessly cocking his head to the side in curiousness. Your stomach dropped in terror while your heart leapt into your throat choking you as soon as the face was revealed to you. Where features of a human should be, a mask covered his entire head with pale plastic skin, tangled fake coffee brown hair, and cold blackened depths where eyes should be. He towered over you like a mountain of muscle covered by dark blue coveralls soaked in places with darkened spots of what you were hoping was fake blood, while a kitchen knife sticky with what looked to be blood glittered dangerously in the sickly orange glow of the overhead streetlight.

“M-michael,” you stammered scrambling backwards from the fearsome presence he radiated. Taking another step menacingly while cocking his head once more, you knew for sure you were face to face with the danger you had feared for so many years. You screamed trying to get up, though your fear weakened legs refused to budge any faster than a crawl. He had you in a grip immediately tugging your body towards his. You could feel the wet spots of blood soaking into your clothes before his dirty hand went over your mouth quieting your screams. While his vise like grip refused to budge he didn’t squeeze any tighter leaving you pressed up against him. Boots thudded behind you two as you sobbed quietly into the palm of his calloused hand.

“There he is,” voices shouted and you melted in relief, though despite the terror inside there was a voice deep down inside telling you not to be so frightened. You figured the voice you were hearing was due to others coming to your rescue, but honestly you weren’t so sure at the feeling of Michael’s hands. Michael turned towards the voices still holding you before him. Police officers from different agencies stood before you both ready to take action against the man who had petrified the small town.

  “Let her go Michael,” a officer spoke who you recognized to be the chief of police.

“Michael,” another man stepped forward from the shadows wearing a white coat. “You don’t want to hurt her Michael.”

You sobbed quietly, muffled by Michael’s hand still covering your mouth. Still he refused to release you despite their warnings. The chief was uttering something into the radio on his shoulder which caused your blood to freeze. “Take the shot,” he muttered and you screamed as Michael suddenly whirled around. Gunshots echoed through the pitch black night as your capturer grunted before stumbling. You looked to the officers in disbelief. They had shot at him while he was holding you. If Michael hadn’t turned suddenly, you surely would have been hit. Without a word Michael raced for his escape with you still in tow.

“Put me down,” you pleaded while being jostled around. “Please put me down.” Michael didn’t say a word continuing to run with you tightly in his grip.

He couldn’t explain why he brought you nor could he find any rhyme or reason within himself on why he was bringing you along. He didn’t escape to kidnap anybody, this was his night to take his revenge, against people who didn’t understand him and just labeled him as a horrific monster. He breathed heavily as blood poured from his wounds. Why he turned to keep you safe from the gunshots he couldn’t explain that either. All he knew at this moment he had to find some place to hide to regain his strength and staunch his bleeding. You were still being bounced around like a fruit being blended in a blender and it was beginning to make you a little sick. The feel of warm sticky blood was flowing out of Michael’s wounds into your clothes didn’t help either.

“You are going to bleed out at this rate if you don’t put me down,” you tried to get him to see reason but still he continued on. He made it into the darkened woods where your face was getting scratched up by branches and thorns alike while Michael still carried you like a suitcase, jolting you up and down. The moonlight showed the way to some extent but Michael must have better eyes than you as he navigated through all sorts of heavy brush easily. It wasn’t until a decrepit shed came into view. Wooden roof tiles circled the place, while broken shutters barely hung to shattered window frames, but it did look sturdy enough as Michael made it up to the front door where he finally dropped you and collapsed to the ground. Blood pooled from his wounds surrounding his heaving body. You looked around completely lost with no escape in sight, but as you looked down at the masked figure your heart broke. Something deep inside within him had protected you from shots that surely would have killed you. Your mother always did accuse you of having a bleeding heart no matter the person. You sighed giving into fate before grabbing one of his arms. He swiped with the knife barely missing your cheek causing you to stumble back and fall on your bottom for the second time that night.

“Easy,” you cooed like you were talking to a spooked horse. “I just want to help. I kinda owe you for taking those bullets for me.”

You couldn’t see them but you could feel his eyes piercing through you. You shivered at the weight of his stare before his head thudded back down in defeat. How you were going to get the hulking man through the door was beyond you, but nobody ever accused you of being a quitter. You grabbed his arm again, this time without him trying to cut you to pieces and drug him inside. Inside the dusty tattered furniture was way outdated and the bed was rickety but it would work. Though you knew for sure that you couldn’t get Michael up onto the bed by yourself.

“Think you could help me get you up on the bed where I can clean your wounds and get them wrapped up?”

He just stared at you again and you could of have sworn that you saw his eyebrow raise under the plastic of the mask. He grunted while sitting up, more blood pouring from the holes in his shoulder and side. You grimaced seeing the large stain, but with your help he was up and laid upon the dusty bed. You coughed trying to figure out how you could clean such wounds with a bare falling apart shack. You looked out the grimy windows spotting a hand pump well, you just hope it wasn’t dry. But water wasn’t going to keep infection away if you didn’t have any soap or medicines. Opening the cabinets there was a few rusty cans of food before you found an old box of bar soap. Opening it you found a brand new bar nestled inside though it was old and shriveled it was better than nothing. You grabbed an old chipped porcelain bowl to take to the pump. Before leaving you went back to the sprawled out Michael who’s chest was rising and falling slowly.

“I’m just going out to the well out back to get water, if it’ll work. I’m not running away I promise. I don’t even know where to go if I tried,” you assured before pausing to at least hear a grunt of acknowledgment.

 Michael laid there in silence no movement, nothing. You peered closer to see his eyes closed in the depths hidden by the mask. While he was still alive and breathing he had lost consciousness. You sighed. At least he waited until he was up on the bed, but lifting him up to take the top part of his clothes off was going to be a pain. You blushed slightly wondering on what his figure could possibly look like underneath. Shaking the thought from your head, you couldn’t deny that you were still curious but appalled by your thoughts.

Easing out the back towards the pump you prayed quietly hoping it would work. A few pumps and you could hear the pipes underneath gurgle and groan before muddy water spurted out from the spout. A few more pumps and the water began to run clear. You could have leapt for joy before you remembered the situation you were in. Rinsing the bowl as best as you could you filled it up with cool clear water. Taking a sip from the spout you went back inside. Michael still laid deathly still even when the door got away from you and slammed closed. You jumped sloshing a little water on the floor. You had to take a few moments to calm your heart and breathing before stepping towards the bedside and placing your supplies on the table that stood beside the bed. 

While there wasn’t any electricity you were grateful that whatever moon that shown in through the window was glowing right where you needed to work. But now you needed to find some cloth, one big enough to make cleaning rags and bandages. It was time to explore a little more, you just hoped your patient would hang on to life. Though he did seem really tough, he hauled you through the woods while bleeding profusely. A linen closet was next to the bathroom and fortunately whoever had owned this little shed left some sheets and a couple blankets. Taking one of the sheets in the middle of the stack you shook what little dust and debris stuck to the cloth. Now the hardest part, stripping your patient.

 You thought for a few seconds before deciding to start with the mask, it would be the easiest part. So carefully and gently you peeled the plastic that hid the face of the man who caused so much pain off. You sucked in a breath at the sight before you. Curly cinnamon brown hair framed a sharp chin and chiseled cheek bones. A scar ran across his right eye though you couldn’t tell how deep the damage went as his eyes stayed closed in his state of unconsciousness. Could he see out of it? And how did the scar make him more attractive? You shook your head violently, he was bleeding out and here you were drooling over his face. He’s a killer a murderer. Now that you could see the cuts needing cleaned on his face it was time to see the extent of the damage under the clothes he was wearing.

“Please be wearing underwear,” you moaned. You tried leaning over to tug one side off after you had unbuttoned his coveralls, but he was too heavy and it was hard for you to reach. So the only way you could see of getting the much needed angle to undress him you clamored on top and straddled his waist. You were so thankful he was out cold, cause you were beyond embarrassed anyway without him knowing the predicament you put both of yourselves in. If he knew, you would probably beg to be stabbed to end your misery. While you held his bare chest to your body you stripped him down, thankfully your prayers were once again answered as Michael was wearing underwear. But his body was so beat up and wounded you didn’t know where to even begin. The bullet wounds were definitely needing the most work so you tackled them first. Luckily for him the bullets had gone straight clean through. The officers must have been using round nose bullets and they left little damage compared to other types of bullets. Michael also got away with no broken bones from said bullets. So all they needed was for you to stop the bleeding and clean them profusely. Despite the holes in his shoulder and waist you found no more gunshot wounds. 

After cleaning them well with soap and water you wrapped them tightly in the makeshift bandages before going back outside to pour the dirty water out of the bowl and replace it with fresh. Now with clean water you went back to work cleaning the lesser wounds that marred his chest, abs, arms, nose, and cheek. You stroked his hair once you were done before the adrenaline that had rushed through your veins hours before disappeared and you collapsed on the floor. Without the rush your body was freezing and you didn’t know if you could get back up. So without getting up to grab the extra blankets down the little hallway you fainted from exhaustion.

Night creatures stalked the depths of darkness surrounding the shed, smelling fresh blood on the wind. You were still passed out cold when Michael raised stiffly from the bed he was laid upon. He looked around the room testing sore muscles that he didn’t think could get sore. His gaping wounds tugged causing blood to mar his bandages. He glanced around the small room to find you laying on the cold wooden floor, shivering viciously at the dropping temperatures of October. He looked at you tilting his head like a curious dog. Though something felt off, he felt his face finding his mask gone. A rage gripped him knowing that you had removed his one thing that he needed so critically. But quickly that rage eased as he begin to think of all that you had done to protect and care for him. He slowly got up careful not to wake you as he went to the same linen closet you had found the things to bind his wounds. He grabbed another sheet and one of the blankets. You didn’t even budge as he draped the blankets over you, but your shivering did calm a little. He stared, completely in awe of you and the type of person you could possibly be that would take care of someone like him.

 Minutes passed as he watched you sleep, still enraptured just by you before he went back to lay down. He looked at you once more before going back to scoop you up and place you on the bed that he had been occupying not too long ago. He watched a little longer silently curious before slipping in next to you. The threadbare blankets couldn’t do enough to battle the cool autumn air as he used his remaining body heat to keep you warm.

Morning rays of sunlight slipped through where the moon had been waking you from your slumber. Your eyes creaked open before panic gripped you. The unfamiliar place frightening you before the memories of last night rushed back in causing panic to turn into full fledged fear. You couldn’t see Michael at first before you spotted him sitting close. He was sitting in a chair backwards his coveralls back on and the mask he wore the majority of the time haphazardly placed on the top of his head. Some of his bandages had loosened a little and you sighed.

“Good morning,” you asked more than said. Once more no answer as he tilted his head once more.

You sighed trying to get your stiff body out of the worn out bed, “Can you say anything?”

He just stared harder causing you to a suck in a breath at the sight of his eyes. A deep brown like a pool of warm melted milk chocolate stared deep into yours while a sightless icy blue eye set in his right socket chilled you to the bone. Though while others my find the difference scary you couldn’t help but think how gorgeous the mismatched eyes were. Before you realized you were leaning over into his face to get a better look causing him to lean back as far as he could without falling from the wooden kitchen chair.

“Sorry,” you apologized sheepishly backing up. He sat back upright curiosity blazing in the brown depths of his one good eye.

“You have really pretty eyes,” you complimented. He pulled his mask down but you saw the blush that dusted his cheeks that he was trying to hide. He raised up abruptly causing you to stumble. You just knew you were going to fall again for the third time in so many hours but he moved quicker grasping your arm and righting you back. Before you could enjoy the contact any further he released you before going towards the door.

“Hey! Where are you going,” you asked suddenly panicked at the thought that he would abandon you here alone. Of course once again he didn’t speak vocally. He pointed to the mouth of his mask indicating food and now it was your turn to blush.

“Oh, okay,” you spoke as your stomach grumbled to the thought of food. Michael left leaving you alone in a creepy abandoned shed with nothing to do. So you just sat back down on the chair he had just deserted to count the seconds that went by until he came back. You had just counted to 1,800 seconds when Michael finally returned. He had two rabbits in tow danging from his large hands. You didn’t know how he had caught them and you didn’t really care as your hunger was now ravaging. Without a word between you he dropped a rabbit, still warm, in your hands before removing his mask so he could eat. Without cleaning or cooking his bounty, Michael ripped meat from the carcass, blood spraying his chin and dripping onto his clothes and bandages.

“Hey! Hey! Don’t eat it like that,” you screeched taking the rabbit from him. “You’ll get sick!”

The glare that he pierced you with could have frozen the toughest man on Earth as you took away his meal.

“I’ll cook it and it’ll be much better,” you reasoned backing away out of reach before he decided he rather eat you instead. “I do need you to clean them though while I build a fire and get water to cook them in.” You went to work unable to take being stared at anymore. Michael quietly went to work doing what you said. Though he rather prefer his breakfast raw and bloody, he would take in consideration on what you wanted. With the sun shining down while you built a fire and poured water into the rusty pot you found and cleaned Michael returned with the rabbits, now skinned and gutted.

“Thank you,” you smiled taking them and placing them into the boiling water. Between the fire and the sun you were beginning to warm up from the jeans and jacket you were wearing. Stripping the top layer of your clothes to your tank top underneath you tied them around your waist as you stirred the contents in the pot.

“What I wouldn’t give for some salt,” you sighed while dreaming of spices and vegetables. Lost in thought you jolted from them as a shadow loomed over you.

  “Yes,” you asked Michael as he towered above you. The anger before gone as he looked at your body. Wrapping your arms around yourself you tried to shrink in upon yourself. His hand reached out scratched and stained, making you flinch. Once more his answer was to tilt his head causing you to ease up a little. He reached again his eyes a raging storm within. You looked at your arms and your chest seeing blossoming bruises. Michael’s rough grip from last night came back to mind, no wonder you felt so stiff. Was it possible that the man everyone feared was feeling some sort of guilt for hurting you?

“I’ll be okay,” you said. “It’s just bruises.”

  You turned away unable to take the unyielding depths of his eyes. Before too long your breakfast was done. You spooned hot broth and meat into chipped and cracked bowls. You sat next to Michael on the porch of the shed enjoying the scenery while sipping at the meager stew. While you refused to look you could still feel the stare of Michael on your body. He had never felt this way before about somebody. Sure he had killed, maimed, and ruined lives but your life was something he cared about. He knew it from the moment that he had saw you when you ran into him. He knew it when he saw you dash across the parking lot trying to get away from the coworker you despised. 

He gripped the bowl his food was in tightly causing the glass to groan before shattering in his hand spraying him with hot broth and shards of glass to stick in his palm. You jumped up before setting your food down to inspect the damage. He leaned in close breathing in your scent as you picked at tiny shards embedded in his tough skin. He fought to keep from touching you, but it was beginning to feel like a losing battle. You also were beginning to wonder if you wanted him to touch you or not. You were so confused and so was he.

 Where could this possibly go and what would happen if it became something you never thought it would be? Only time could tell as you spent time with him and to see the man underneath the accusations, the mask he hides behind, and the reasons why he did what he did. Only you could unravel it from him and he was willing to let you try. He just had to do things that he wasn’t used to and you were going to have to open yourself in a way that you never had before. New things were emerging and you both weren’t sure where it was going. But now as Michael reached out wondering what one touch could do, you found yourself leaning in. Was this the start? Would something bloom? Who could really know as he reached closer and closer. Only you and Michael could uncover that in time.

[wonik1ss]

౨ৎ The Office of IVE ! — an yujin [ 1.0k ]

000. an empty office [ fully written ] | masterlist

taglist : @takpayahtahu @dearyujimin @aeriniee @jinsoulinator @dollinin @minaripenguu @gayforalll @hyejuwu @tenjito @baewonlove @strawberrytoki

a/n : just a little background !

“ok that is everything ! I hope you all have a great first day.. good luck”. for the first time in fourth minutes you actually paid attention. leaving the room with the other transfers. the blonde girl pointed all over the place and started leading people to their desks.

“you didn’t pay attention either.. right?”. your head whipped to the side.

“oh yeah.. I’ve been working here for a year or two so I’m fine”. the shorter girls eyes went wide.

“I’ve only been working for four months.. I just got transferred because my boss was sick of me”. you laughed.

“we-“

“glasses following me”. the blonde girl didn’t even dare to look at you; she snapped her fingers and you waved good by to your new friend.

“this is your desk.. the post it note tells you what to do.. ask your boss if anything goes wrong for help..”. as you sat down, you looked up and the girl was already gone.

as you got to work you heard a small commotion.

“you heard that too?”. you jumped and the shorter girl yelled.

“ya..”

“oh I’m yeojin by the way..”. yeojin wheeled her chair around and you did too, you told her yours too. she shook your hand and then turned to face your bosses office.

“guess the glass was a bad decision then..”. you chuckled. a bunny looking girl threw papers at your boss and was coming your way. you and yeojin quickly went back to your cubicles.

“see ! one of your so called ‘workers’ are to busy.. shopping ! to even do there fucking job”. your mouth dropped open as the bunny girl pointed at you.

“you are so lucky your even here you know that..?”. the girl for closer and closer to you.

“your a little piece of shit in this b-“

“I think that’s enough nayeon”. your boss stepped infront of you and as she did nayeon shock her head and stormed out the office.

“ITS FUCKING MRS. IM TO TOU YUJIN”. you stared at the open door as nayeon tapped furiously on the elevator buttons.

“are you ok.. I understand if you want a day off.. I can-“. you waved your hands.

“oh no no I just got here I’m fine!”. that would be the first and last day you would see yujin show an once of cate until gaeul came. for a few days she always peered into yujin’s room. she never had much to do so you thought poor girl. which lead you to go up to her ever so often to start a conversation. the first one started with a freshly made coffee and muffin for her.

“oh your really didn’t need-“

“she won’t bite you..”. the girl scoffed.

“I.. I know that!”

“you don’t act like you do..!”. from their on your and gaeul joked about your scary boss. and every once in a while you would see yujin smile at you. next came rei. she came a few months later and took the cubicle right next to you.

she was shy like gaeul but anytime you tried to strike up a conversation she would shut it down real quick. that was until one day you saw her playing fortnite on her office computer.

the next day a few minutes before work was supposed to be over you and rei cornered her in her cubicle.

“I-“

“we know you like fortnite..”. gaeul said arms crossed.

“so we wanted to know if you would go to a pc bang with us..”. rei’s ears perked up at your words.

“that is..”. gaeul laughed and then straightened up when she saw Rei was bewildered.

“a big place with computers.. like a at home gaming set times a million”. rei’s smile went from ear to ear.

next was wonyoung. she was special. since yujin actually talked to her like she was an actual person. multiple times you had saw the girl sitting on one of the multiple tables in her office while wonyoung rolled her eyes.

wonyoung was different, it was obvious she was smart but also obvious that she was hired halfy for her personality. you tilted your head at the lollipop sta on your keyboard.

“jinnie said you liked them”. you jumped as wonyoung popped her head into your cubicle.

“how does sh-“

“she.. she’s your boss.. I mean our boss ofcourse she knows”. from then on random sweets and knick nacks appeared in your cubicle. which confused liz the next new hire a few months later.

“who.. who leaves those?”. you turned to the girl to your left and smiled.

“oh my friend wonyoung.. wony for short”. the girl pulled out a yellow note pad, scribbled something down and then smiled at you. a few days later a bunch of random gifts showed up in everyone’s cubicles.

a week later, boxes of donuts were ordered for the office with small letter of encouragement. the way liz smiled at you all showed it could only be her who did this.

your smiled as you walked into work. you had max such wonderful friends over the-

“mrs. y/l/n please come to my office please”. you stopped daydreaming and fast walked to yujin’s office. your head tilted at the little girl sitting in the chair just at her door.

“sorry to bother you but.. we have afresh higher that I need you to.. show the ropes to..”

“it’s fine.. but weren’t the new huggers showed everything before work..?”. yujin nodded and but her lip.

“yes but.. lee.. this one didn’t get the email because she just got accepted.. as a six month intern”. you nodded.

“ok I’ll get right to it”. as you bowed and went to leave you saw yujin open her mouth and slowly close it. as you closed the door you turned to the girl.

“hi I’m-“

“y/n mrs. yujin told me”. you nodded.

“and your..”

“lee hyunseo !”. the girl sprung up from her seat and bowed. this not so empty office just got a new hire you were starting to grow really fond of.

[sluts4shigaraki]

BACK TO SCHOOL!

CW ♡ none really for this chapter. mild creepiness from shiggy but what’s new tbh

Pairing ♡ shigaraki/fem!reader

Word count ♡ 2,100

minors/ageless blogs DNI ♡ you will be blocked

A/N ♡ as of right now i’ve got around 7 chapters for this but i’ll be scattering posting them, i’m trying to get back into writing again so this blog will be semi active ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´Д｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡ also it’s under a read more bc all these chapters are kinda fat. so obv reader is chubby in this, but you can assume that all of my reader fics are chubby reader tbh

DAY ONE

———————————————————————————

Calculus was your worst class. Not just because you were bad at it, or because Mr. Byrne was rude to you, but because of him. Tomura was a part of an exchange student program. Most of the students adjusted well and made friends, but it seemed like Tomura didn’t even want to be here. He constantly had his hood up and never spoke to anyone as he moved across campus. He sat directly behind you, never contributing to any discussions. All he did was stare at you so hard you could feel his eyes burning a hole in your head. This semester felt like it would last forever thanks to this class. You tried to take notes and listen to the lecture but none of it made sense. As the lecture came to a close, your professor called your name, and Tomura’s. Your heart dropped to your stomach.

“Can you two stay for a moment?” Oh good lord. Holding your breath, you stepped up to your professors desk. “Your test scores have been… inadequate lately. So I’ve asked Tomura to tutor you. He’s already agreed, and I’m willing to bump your grade up. As long as you’re willing to meet up for an hour or two every day till the test next week,” he presented a sheet, dates, times and a place for a signature. “You two fill these out and we’ll see what we can do,�� why, why of all people, this guy? Surely there has to be someone else just as smart. Maybe it wasn’t even that. Maybe no one else would tutor you.

“Mr. Byrne I don’t…” before you even finished, he held up a hand.

“If you fail this class, your GPA will drop and you’ll have to retake it. I know you don’t want to be here. Give it a chance,” as he spoke, Tomura was rocking on his feet, anxiously picking at his fingers. He wanted you to say yes. Needed you to say yes. This was his in. He never knew how to speak to you. You were out of his league, and he’d never even spoken to someone he was attracted to extensively, especially not one he wanted as badly as he wanted you.

Tomura had been watching you since you started this class with him. Of course, he’d seen you around campus. You stuck out to him, because you were just his type. Soft hips, chubby, a beautiful smile, and a sunny aura that he didn’t have. Obviously he didn’t know you that well, but he knew you enough. Hopefully you didn’t notice that he found out where you frequented, coffee shops and parks on campus. He definitely hoped you didn’t notice how much attention he paid you, listening in when you spoke to someone, watching your secret little habits you don’t even think about. Tomura wanted to know everything. He knew he was weird, so he’d have to find out how to attract you despite that. That scared him. How could he attract someone like you to someone like him? It didn’t matter. Even if being near you made him nauseous and sweaty, he’d do it. You would be his before the week was out.

“That’s.. fine I guess. I’ll do it,” turning to him, you noticed he wouldn’t even meet your eyes.“So, are you free right now, or do you have a class or somethin’?” Tomura’s throat went dry. All he had to say was that he’s free, and wants to tutor you now, but so many questions and worries bobbed around in his head. Would you want to go to your dorm or his? God, not his dorm. It’s disgusting. There’s a picture he took of you on his computer. You weren’t aware he took it, but it was sticky and he knew you’d be grossed out. Maybe even enough to drop the class and take the failing grade. Finally he managed to sputter out some words, knowing he’d took a weird amount of time to respond.

“We can do it right now. Wherever, i-is fine,” instantly you recoiled. You didn’t want him to know how much you dreaded this so he’d at least do a good job and help you pass.

“There’s some tables in the park if that’s okay. It’s usually pretty quiet,” but public enough to not be totally alone with him, you thought. Tomura nodded, following you out of the building. He always loved how you looked, the way your thighs spread when you sat, how soft your tummy looked. You were confident, and it showed in the way you dressed. He could only imagine how it would feel to touch you, your stomach, your thighs. Being behind you was like a godsend, he got to watch you walk. He could’ve easily outpaced you with his height, but he made sure to keep a slow pace just to stay where he was.

Trying to fill the silence on the way to the park was awkward, but you had to say something. Anything.

“This class makes me feel kinda stupid. It’s not a part of my major but it’s a required class, so I feel like it shouldn’t be as hard as it is, you know?”

Tomura doesn’t know how to respond. The only thing he wants to do is hold your hand. Be yours, so you can be his. His palms are soaked with sweat at the very thought. He wiped them on his hoodie, not knowing what to do with them. Why did merely existing around you make him feel so out of place? All he wanted to do was impress you and he had no idea if he was even capable of that. Instinctively, his hands flew to his neck to scratch at the scarred skin there. You flick your eyes back to him, all you see is his head down, hands digging at his neck.

When you get to the park, it was more empty then you’d hoped. You dropped your backpack at the nearest table and sat down with your notebook full of a few notes and lots of doodles and scribbling. Just like before, it took Tomura way too long to speak.

“What part is uh.. confusing you?” Clicking his pen over and over again, like a nervous tick, he still refused to make eye contact.

“Um, well, I guess the calculus part,” trying to make a lighthearted joke to ease the tension. It was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

“Well, I think we should start with what the basics and… go from there?” Once he got started it was hard to get him to shut up. Turns out if you wanted him to speak, you just needed to ask a distressing amount of questions about math, probably video games too. Tomura was smart, which probably shouldn’t have surprised you. You shouldn’t even be in the same class as him. Your teacher couldn’t teach you half the things Tomura could. Eventually the lights in the park had come on.

“Wow, has it really been, like, two hours? I didn’t even notice. You’re actually a really good teacher,” the compliment made Tomura’s head swim. You tore off a scrap of paper, scribbling your number on it. “Text me, ‘kay? This helped a lot but, I think I need a lot more to pass that test. Thanks for that, Tomura,” you beamed at him, and he finally met your eyes. You were a little hesitant to give it to him, or even give him that wide of a smile. Then he gave his best attempt at a smile back to you. It was crooked and a little unnerving.

With visibly quivering hands, either due to nervousness or tremors, he took the paper. Tomura cleared his throat, and added it to his phone. He pushed the paper into his pocket and sent you a text. Regret sinks in just a touch, but you needed to be able to communicate with him when you didn’t have a class together.

“There, so you’ll know it’s me and not some.. weirdo,” in your head you burst out laughing but you kept an innocent smile on your face. Did he not realize he was some weirdo? Even though he was incredibly helpful with tutoring, he still did weird things that made you a little scared of him. Things on and off campus that made others avoid him. Tomura had long, greasy, unkempt hair. It somehow still held some volume, so you couldn’t imagine what it looked like clean. The bags under his eyes were deep, like he never slept, not a singular time since he was born. His lips were always dry, his voice raspy. You were pretty sure he survived on Monster and take-out. Girls would talk about how they caught him staring. Or walking behind them, quite a distance away, but still following. The talk died down when he started calculus, all because of you. You were the one he wanted. The other girls were pretty, a little stupid, probably easy to manipulate. Getting you though, that would be like the boss battle at the end of a game. Incredibly difficult, it might take a few tries, but the satisfaction it’d bring would be worth it.

“I’m free th-the same time tomorrow. We can meet here if you want,” he was scratching his neck, and you could see his sharp, uneven fingernails digging in and blood getting underneath them. You felt like you had to be nice. Tutoring you was at least worth a little bit of kindness, considering he did it for free. The reason why he did it was so obvious and so obscure. Plus, you were taught manners, and no matter how much you disliked someone, you should help if they’re hurt.

“Oh, you’re uh, bleeding. Here, let me see,” digging through your backpack, you found your first aid kit. You cleaned his wounds, and put some neosporin and a bandaid on his neck. Tomura could cry. The feeling of your fingers on his neck made his dick twitch. He wouldn’t say that, and he’s hoping he didn’t show it. You both went your separate ways, you went back to your dorm and didn’t think much more about it. It was much different for Tomura.

On the walk back, the only thing keeping him from digging the skin fully off his neck was the bandage you put on him. Gently grazing his fingers across it, it made him blush. It also made him incredibly angry. He could’ve said something. Kissed you, even. You were so close, your soft hands making him light headed. Yet just looking at you, feeling your breath on his neck, paralyzed him. The walk gave him time to think, and that gave him time to get angry at himself.

When he stepped in his dorm room, he threw his backpack against the wall, slamming the door shut behind him. His roommate, Touya, sat on the bed opposite Tomura’s. Unfazed by one of his frequent tantrums, he tapped on his phone. Probably trying to figure out what party to be at so he can get his dick wet. Tomura despised him. He could get nearly anyone he wanted but Tomura couldn’t even get the one person he wanted. Everything about you was all he wanted.

The room was dirty on both sides, but his side was worse. Tomura had empty energy drink cans everywhere, figures of lewd anime girls, dirty clothes covering whatever else was there. Sometimes it was clean, when the RA decided to come by. That rarely happened so Tomura rarely cleaned.

“Wha’ happened? Someone mildly inconvenience you again?” Smirk decorating Touya’s scarred face. He looked like a freak too, but he didn’t get the same judgement Tomura faced. Touya had girls lining up to even talk to him. Tomura had girls crossing the street if he passed by.

“I was... an idiot! She was right there. So close I could’ve touched her anywhere or anyway I wanted to. And I didn’t,” aggressively pulling his gaming chair closer and sat with his elbows on the computer desk. Scratching at his neck, he felt the bandaid you placed, running his finger along it. “She…she really took care of me. And I’m practically a stranger.”

“Yeah, yeah. Maybe, for once, you should try not stalking them and being a freak. Act like you don’t want ‘em, they come runnin’,” what he said was maybe right, as much as Tomura hated to admit it. When he meets you again, he’ll test this theory.

[code01746]

What do you think Cora would think of Law memorializing him all over his body, ship, crew? Would he find that obsessive or weird?

(apologies for the ramble; i get to your question eventually, i promiseーthis topic is actually really personal to me and makes me a bit upset).

　is this a popular take? because I’ve seen it several times now, and i just don’t understand what people are getting at. it genuinely kind of makes me upset because i feel like it’s coming from the perspective of people who have (fortunately) never experienced the unique kind of grief the death brings and are therefore judging how “messy” it can sometimes look.

sure, I suppose it’s “weird” in the sense that holding onto that kind of rage & guilt for literal years is unhealthy for your mental state (especially if that’s the last thing rosinante would have wanted for himーhe wanted to free him from doflamingo, not bind him to him via his rage)—but i’ve read multiple fics before where authors paint it as this… creepy, stalkerish thing? like it's helga's shrine to arnold in 'hey arnold!' or something? it’s not. It’s really not.  

(cw: death of a loved one).

when i was 22, a friend i knew since i was 2 (he was 2 years younger than me, so i literally knew him his entire life) passed away falling off a balcony. really traumatizing, really horrific—i genuinely have a fear of standing too close to balcony/banister railings now. i’ve had nightmares about it.

i keep his ‘in memory’ card and the funeral program his mother gave out at the service on a shelf in my closet so I see it every day when i get dressed or hang up laundry. i took several copies to ensure that i never lost them, and plan on putting them into a nicer shadowbox at some point (but have been too afraid to touch them because I don’t want to ‘ruin’ them). i still post birthday messages to his socials every year. i have old choral performances of his saved to my computer. i have a memorial tattoo.

if someone told me my way of remembering him was ‘creepy’ and ‘obsessive’ just because i think about him a lot or hold on to a lot of momentos, i think I genuinely might have a panic attack & burst into tears? this is all i’ve got left. he’s not here anymore; he was cremated so i don’t even have an actual grave i can go visit and have that connection. and i’m just… not allowed to have any of this because people on the outside think the way i express my grief is ‘too much’? i'd straight up just never speak to that person again.

ー.

so, no, i really don't think rosinante would be that off-put by the tattoos, or the jacket, or the jolly roger at all. if anything, he'd be honored that he made such an impression in this kid's life that he wanted to keep his memory alive like that.

he'd recognize they were separated in an extremely traumatizing wayーand adults have a hard time dealing with difficult emotions like grief, much less children & teenagers dealing with it. there was no way law wasn't going to be impacted by that, so he decided to redirect those things into something physical. tattoos. a custom jacket. a jolly roger. a special attack with his devil fruit. he turned that grief into something that guided him, and arguably gave him strength to keep going.

but also, not to mention, he's a doctor.

barring his jacket that literally has rosinante's codename on it, all of the heart motifs can just as easily hold a double meaning for law. he's literally called dr. heart stealer with a special move where he can detach your heart from your body and put it in a little cube. rosinante may have been a big part of the name & motif choices, but law clearly has other things in his life he connects the meaning of 'heart' to. it means a lot to him.

-

so, no, i don't really find law's behavior that odd or 'obsessive' (except for his blind hatred of doflamingoーthat was clearly obsessive) and i doubt rosinante would, either. the grieving process is wholly unique to an individual, and some people just like to attach their grief to physical momentos that they can latch onto when they miss that person, or feel like they're losing focus.

i find it endearing. beautiful, even.

[carolinemillerbooks]

New Post has been published on Books by Caroline Miller

New Post has been published on https://www.booksbycarolinemiller.com/musings/a-curmudgeon-in-the-family-of-man/

A Curmudgeon In The Family Of Man

I was grateful to my neighbor for helping me with a technical problem.  He’s the resident guru on computers at the retirement center and far too modest about himself. Aware that I might need his advice in the future, I asked if he’d care to adopt me despite my advanced age.  A smile parted his lips as his gaze dropped to the carpet. “We’re all family here,” he said. I walked away thinking he’d uttered a beautiful notion, though I tend to reject sentiments that are warm and fuzzy.  I’m old enough to know that the history of “the “family of man” is dysfunctional. Since Caine slew Able we’ve worked to perfect the art of violence. Murder isn’t the kind of glue to hold society together, so we attempt to contain it by inventing rules. Murder on a grand scale we call war.  The rules on those occasions are those of The Geneva Convention. The smaller stuff we leave to religion, laws, politics, and the whims of tyranny. But, like the potter who leaves his fingerprints upon newly shaped clay, because we are flawed creatures, the systems we create can be weaponized and used to threaten others. Justice, after all, is the gloved fist of vengeance. Bill Clinton, our 42nd President, sees philanthropy as a better way to promote social cohesion. Philanthropy can help bust through political and cultural gridlock by showing what can be done. He has many true believers, so many that at his last conference on philanthropy, a thousand do-gooders had to be turned away.   Enthusiasm on this scale is heartwarming, but I’m a curmudgeon. I’ve never been keen to turn the world over to philanthropists.  Who are they, after all, but people otherwise known as oligarchs? Nick Caraway in The Great Gatsby told us about them. They are people who don’t think like the rest of us. I doubt any butcher, baker, cowboy, or tailor would choose to live in a Martian colony under Elan Musk’s rules. I place my faith in “we the people.” Democracy’s collective mind is where we are most likely to find common ground. Alexei Navalny, Vladamir Putin’s murdered opponent, was a man of the people. Having survived attempts to assassinate him, he warned his followers their fate didn’t depend upon his survival but upon their will. If it happens, if they decide to kill me, it means we are incredibly strong.  We need to use that power. (“A  Hero of Our Time,” by Mariam Elder, Vanity Fair, April 2024, pg. 34.) His words may seem like a whistle against the dark, but the Ukrainian people are a living example of that courage. Their David and Goliath story can set this curmudgeon’s heart to racing. Even so, dreams can become fodder for blind ambition.      Our Republican House has placed a chokehold on future aid to that country, reversing their past support.  They did it to placate their revenge candidate, Donald Trump, in the upcoming presidential election.  Trump holds a grudge against Ukraine and is happy to curry the favor of their invader, Vladimir Putin.  If elected, our former president promises to leave Ukraine to the Russians. The predatory world in which we live is Nature’s doing, but humans have wasted no time in making a hell out of the heaven they inherited.  Some attempt to escape the violence by turning to drugs or alcohol. Others rely on religion, mysticism, or conspiracy theories for the dopamine high that makes them happy. Artificial Intelligence (AI) and augmented virtual reality could provide other avenues of escape. Their illusions might help us create worlds so satisfying, that many won’t return to planet Earth. For proof of that possibility, observe how people are mesmerized by their smartphones. We humans aren’t algorithms, however. Wherever we go, we drag our dark side behind us like a beloved toy.  That’s a drawback to consider as we cheer the coming of augmented reality. Despite the challenges ahead, like Navalny, I have hope because….well, what else is there?  Fraternity, equality, and liberty are pretty good ideas. To obtain them all we have to do is curb our tribal nature, though some have argued it doesn’t exist. Whether Instinctive or learned, history confirms that group-think seems natural to us.  We desire to be among people who look like us and share our values.  That passion for conformity rivals our growing need to respect diversity and sometimes makes democracy seem like a fool’s dream.    Given my doubts about the future of mankind, I left the caring gentleman at the retirement center with one request.  “please don’t include me as a member of the community.  I prefer to be the resident alley cat.”

[desultory-novice]

Is it weird how most of my OC’s are villains/antagonists?

And most aren’t even puff balls or already known species but I just go wild, that’s because I’m trying to follow the way kirby games create characters by trying to be more and more creative while always trying to stay on familiar grounds.

Am I going too far? Am I still drawing Kirby characters?

I just don’t know if my designs are that good.

Im kinda saying this because I’ve seen several human OC designs and your “OC” (between “” since I don’t know if a pre transformation character can be called OC) Noir is one of the few human designs I actually think fit into Kirby and is overall one of the best designs I’ve seen without being too different and without being too similar, and I just wanna give tell you “well done”, do you have any advice on how to do that?

First off, you'll never ever hear "Oh, that's weird!" from me about designing antagonists! I think it's great! Everything from the complex emotions that led them to oppose our heroes (betrayal, vengeance, greed, hatred, jealousy, etc etc) to just having cool power sets you can go all out on from the beginning, they've got to be some of the most fun you can have designing characters!

It's definitely tricky to create something new that has the potential to fit in a work without it being a take off of something already in the work. I think part of the reason a lot of OC creators stick with puffballs or some other recognizable form (Magolor-alikes, Elfilin-alikes) is that it gives you a sort of bonus modifier to recognizability? Once you've got that, you can move on to adding all the original details without having to surmount that hurdle of "Does this non-Kirby character still look like they could feasibly be in Kirby?"

Of course, there's nothing wrong with just throwing all that out the window and stylizing your design like whoa! Heck, some actual Kirby characters don't look much like Kirby characters. I think back to Dark Mind, who is awfully cool looking and going by his name really should look like the rest of the Dark Matters but theweird...fire/vein/wires look? Is he part-eyeball part-computer??

He looks more like a riff on a Kirby boss than a Kirby boss. (Which makes that thing in Amphibia - apologies, as I've never watched the show - that looks so much like Dark Mind kinda funny in retrospect because it's a clear Kirby reference, but it references the first Dark Matter-like being to look really different from all the other Dark Matters before him!)

Sometimes, you just have to stick with it! Designing OCs is fun, but I know that for me, the meat is in their story. Can I connect with them emotionally? (Villain or no.) If I can do that, then it doesn't matter to me too much what they look like!

Also, it's totally fine to call Noir an OC, lol! I think that about him myself sometimes. (Dess Secret: I've had to push myself to be courageous every time I post a new Apologies comic because a mean voice in the back of my head says "You know everyone's going to be mad you turned a fan favorite last boss into a sadboy!")

But thank you for saying that. As for tips, well...

One thing I did was I kinda cheated by taking recognizable elements (his scarf + turning his tan cape into a long winter coat) from the character he's based off of. The concept for his hair I also stole off of the settei sheet while focusing on making it look somewhat flame like, so it matched DMS's dark flame hair.

But you can do this kind of "element borrowing" even if you're not making a character who is part of a known species! On that note, I guess that's the other thing I did for him was give him very "Adeleine-like" proportions. I mentioned this vaguely in the lightning round post that it's easier to draw for Apologies than it is to draw for MariPav because I try to keep Gijinka Marx and Magolor as approx. 7-8 heads tall humanoids with reasonable proportions.

In game Adeleine's got a big plate face with wide cartoon eyes and these kinda stick limbs. So, by drawing Noir a little taller, with slightly sharper features, and eyes that have a distinct "shape" to them (Rhombus? Is that the word?) but still those spaghetti limbs and almost child-like hands, he manages to look not too out of place standing alongside Adeleine.

Speaking of Adeleine's design, this last tip is not a solid rule, but simplicity is a great place to start when designing characters! When you mess around with both sprite art and chibi art, you learn quickly that little details (jewelry, markings, filigree, iris patterns, dozens of other things that may FEEL important) aren't going to make it into the finished piece. So choose a few bold things (and bold colors to go with them) that you can count on are always going to show.

To dip into some actual Kirby villains...

I think Nightmare's helmet is... a bit of a mess and I hate hate hate it and hate drawing it (what even is with those...antenna like horns?!) but the distinctive pointed witchy nose he's got and the dramatic chin, plus a body wrapped in a cape that looks like a tornado?! (Natural disasters are SCARY!) Those are all good, clearly visible design elements that say this guy is bad news!

(I refuse to listen to the haters. Nightmare is a good boss!)

One of the things that makes Zero 2 such a compelling boss visually is, of all things, the freakin' band-aid on his head, which is in complete contrast to his surreal, angelic design. But that's what makes it so effective! It doesn't seem to belong. "Wait, bosses can't take boo boos!" but because it's so distracting it draws your eye and your mind begins to think "...Is that to cover the spot where Zero broke out of last time we fought?" People make fun of bosses having "magical weak spots" but they're visually very interesting!

(Of course, it's actually the thorn that's the weak spot...)

Even rounder, friendlier bosses like King Dedede stick to having a few visually striking elements. Design-wise, he's a combination of a penguin (who is blue and yellow, because those colors stand out more than black + white) and a medieval Japanese daimyo. But he wasn't given a kimono until Smash Bros, which is fine as there would be no way to visually show that off till 3D graphics got as good as they did. So what they did give him a big round Japanese obi, which you'll always be able to see on him as well continuing the theme of the three primary colors (red, yellow, blue) on him and keeps his round belly from being entirely monochromatic!

Crowned Magolor/Magolor Soul, one of my favorite boss designs, is interesting because the more details the crown picks up (again, the design informs the character, as it twists around like roots and grows in some plant-like thorns, and this is before we saw it become a tree!) the less detailed Magolor becomes. This is so you don't have too much detail conflicting with each other. Your eye isn't too busy trying to "read" both Magolor and the Crown. And when you remove the crown, Magolor's basically a bouncy ball with a face! But he only needs to be a face because the empty eyes are the element they wanted to highlight, in this case showing his powerlessness.

So, to summarize...

Pick a few colors (remember to work some contrast in there! If you've got a lot of dark, scary colors, try adding something colorful and saturated to throw the viewer off. They can still contribute to the creepiness, even if they're not normally bad guy colors. The haunting orange glow of a jack-o-lantern. A bright, toxic-looking science-green! The purple of the sky as the sun sets and night is upon you...) Pick a few design elements to focus on (Large ones too! You should be able to see the most important parts of your character, even if you shrink them down super small!) and well, uh, I accidentally got ahead of myself. I think this step comes first but also, look to the forms of other Kirby characters, even if you're not making something that's a specific call back to them! Don't take their design, but take their shape. Or parts of their shape. In the sprite art community, we have something called "franken-spriting" where you cut out parts of various sprites you like or want to borrow from and then merge them together or redraw over what you've pieced together.

Finally, don't just show us what they look like: make us understand something about them. Back to Noir ever so briefly - I think that what made him effective as a character is that first time I actually drew him (outside of the sketch in Adeleine's notebook) I'd already informed people who he was and what his fate would be. He wasn't just some drawing of a moody teen with an ugly scarf.

He was an unavoidable tragedy waiting to happen.

(That said, you might not want to tell us all the good stuff in one go. Drop some tantalizing details, not every twist and turn up to the denouement! Something I was always told is "less is more!")

Tell us what to sympathize with, love, or fear about your OCs. The things that make them human - yes, even the eldritch monsters!!! - and hopefully your art will both energize other people and...yourself!

Most importantly, keep at it!

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

These calls and moments accompany Victor’s S2 CH 30-33 Karma, and feature S2 Victor and MC, but don’t contain any spoilers from the S2 storyline~

⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for contents that are yet to be released in the global server! ⌚

┈┈ ◍♡◍ ┈┈┈ ◍♡◍ ┈┈

—

✧ [MOMENTS] ✧

Victor: The first question a certain someone asked when she boarded the cruise ship was what to have for dinner tonight.

–

⊳ OPTION A:

MC: I’ve seen the leading roles in the films having big feasts whenever they board a cruise ship!

Victor: This is the tenth film I’ve heard you say that has a “big feast” in the plot.

–

⊳ OPTION B:

MC: The dinner was actually a king crab buffet. I experienced eating king crabs until I was full~

Victor: The dummy said she’s had her fill, but still had pudding after dinner.

–

⊳ OPTION C:

MC: The second question is – do you want to watch the sunrise together tomorrow morning?

Victor: That is, if only you can give up your desire to “sleep in on the cruise ship.”

_

–

✧ [FIRST CALL] ✧

Victor: You didn’t look very good when you got out of the car, not feeling well?

MC: Mm… seems like a bit of carsickness.

Victor: Why are you suddenly carsick? Have you been staying up late again recently?

MC: Of course not! Wasn’t there a section of road under repair just now? So, it was quite bumpy.

MC: Adding to that was the recent working around the clock. I’ve been mentally quite exhausted. That’s why I was a little dizzy when I got out of the car.

Victor: So, how are you feeling now?

MC: I was just sitting in my office for a while, and now I’m already feeling better!

MC: However, looking at this workload, I guess I really have to work overtime till late at night. This should be considered “reasonable staying up late,” no?

Victor: …all kinds of fallacious reasoning.

Victor: I remember that beach camping you’ve been clamoring about for a long time. It can be put on the itinerary for the next weekend.

MC: REALLY! But didn’t you just say in the car that you were flying abroad next week?

Victor: The meeting will be ending on Friday. I have booked a late-night flight for the same day.

Victor: You can make use of these few days and think about what else you want to do for fun when we get there.

MC: There are so many things! I can’t even count them all on my ten fingers!

 Victor: Don’t get too excited too soon. The prerequisite is that you complete all your work.

Victor: I don’t want to see you hugging your computer and racking your brain in the hotel.

MC: Anyway, you will be by my side at that time. If, by any chance, I do run into trouble, CEO Victor surely won’t “fold his hands and see me die,” right?

Victor: [sulkyyyy LOL]  I will.

Victor: If you don’t want the vacation to turn into a work report, then don’t bring your work with you.

MC: …

Victor: Your answer?

MC: Understood. I promise to get all my work done before the vacation comes!

Victor: By the sound of your voice, it seems that you have completely recovered from the carsickness you had earlier.

Victor: Then, put this high fighting spirit into work, and don’t stay up late at night.

–

–

✧ [SECOND CALL] ✧

Timestamp– 1:28

–

Victor: I saw that you mentioned me in your Moments.

Victor: Did you redecorate your room?

MC: Yes! I just happened to have some time today and thought I’d redecorate it a bit!

MC: It’s nice, right? Could I please trouble CEO Victor for some more comments!

Victor: Nice, indeed.

Victor: No wonder you intentionally posted it on Moments. You seem to have put in the effort.

MC: Of course! After all, I’ve been preparing for this since last week.

MC: And I woke up very early today especially for this purpose, and have been cleaning up until just now.

Victor: So it’s finally the realization your room needs a brand new look that could make you sacrifice your sleeping in time?

MC: I did tarot divination earlier. It said that redecorating the room will bring good luck, and even the work will be completed smoothly.

Victor: And did the tarot cards tell you that regarding the time consumed decorating the room, you will have to make up for that total amount at work?

MC: …evil capitalist!

Victor: What did you say?

MC: I-I said I did the divination for you, too~ These cited several kinds of ornaments that can improve your fortune–

Victor: What strange things are you planning to put in my house again?

Victor: Earlier, you placed a ceramic owl on my balcony, saying it was to chase away sparrows.

Victor: In the end, a certain dummy had forgotten about it herself and got a scare.

MC: That one was purely a mistake! This time it’s all some really cute stuff, and there absolutely won’t be any problem!

Victor: Could your weird reasonings be any less…

MC: By the way, when I was picking out the ornaments for you, I also bought something else while I was at it.

MC: I feel like they don’t fit in with the style of my house that great, so I was thinking maybe you could have use of them? Would you like me to bring them along?

Victor: Your excuse is too obvious. Try using another one next time.

Victor: Go on, say it. What is it?

MC: Hehe, there are lots of beautiful candle lamps, some exquisite tablecloths, and things like that.

MC: I remember that Souvenir is planning to launch a new menu next season. They’d be useful, right?

Victor: A certain someone can try them out for herself when she comes as the “taster” tonight.

MC: Aren’t you worried that I might have chosen something too “unexpected?”

Victor: Although that is a possibility, I trust your vision.

—

[nanogrem]

Not a super happy post, TW? Vague mention of suicidal thoughts and self harm.

Making a little note of my mental health issues lately since I’ll be seeing someone about it the morning and I’m all kinds of nervous - I’m happy I’m having the chance to start treatment so soon though.

So for the last few years I’ve been in some kind of funk that has been steadily progressing. It started out as a weird brain fog that made it really hard to think and “hear” myself - like talking to yourself in your brain. I’d stutter, have to force words out, and sentences would run together and turn into an incoherent jumble of thoughts.

After that came physical symptoms that aligned with my anxiety getting worse; Feeling sick and nauseous all the time, chest pains, heart palpitations, and most noticeably - Vertigo and Hypoglycemia.

I don’t have POTS and I’m cleared for diabetes, my CT scans and EKG I got from my trip to the ER earlier this year we’re also clean so at least I know my brain looks physically alright.

Another thing was how much harder it’s gotten to do basic things; like laundry, cooking, simply getting out of bed and using the bathroom in the morning. I’ll just sit there fighting with myself for a few hours until my back hurts enough to get me moving.

I don’t want to talk about the worse stuff in detail but I’ve struggled with increasingly manic delusions that I struggle to get out of and can’t tell what’s reality and what isn’t, as well as more harmful thoughts towards myself and sometimes other people for many years, I used to be able to talk myself down and calm myself but it’s gotten harder and harder to do so. I’m not physically self destructive aside from mild dermatillomania, picking at existing areas of psoriasis that is on my scalp and behind my ears.

Another big thing was my emotions being all over the place, little things would stress me out so much to the point of tears like my mom having her phone on full volume while watching videos in the living room while I was there watching TV, and my friends not interacting with me directly. I’d get so upset over not being invited to spontaneous get-togethers online (meaning it wasn’t planned and just happened) as well as just people not talking to me frequently. I was aware of my feelings and I knew that clinginess was bad and that other people had their own lives and were not responsible for my happiness so in my head the only option I had was distance myself and self-isolate and remove any ability I might have that would result in me messaging people out of the blue either not thinking or by impulse. Even now I have removed all ability for myself to potentially message my friends from my phone, I still have access to group chats though and them directly from my computer - it’s harder to contact them that way so I do it only when needed.

For the most part my friends were not happy with that, I’m glad they didn’t let me try to cut them off completely because I don’t think that would end well for me at all. I’m a very lonely person and I’m very desperate for any human interaction I can get, which I hate. I wish there was an alternative that didn’t require me to have to go to my friends all the time just because I want to talk about my stupid little art projects or talk about the movie I’m watching. Hell my mom found a little anole in our house that I kept overnight so he had the sunshine to find another spot to Brumate in the morning and the very first thing I did was send them a picture of it to the group chat I have access to.

I want to try and be less annoying? If that makes sense? I made social media to share my art, projects, and even stupid things like fictional characters I like or what lizard I saw today. So I need to use that.

I don’t know how mental health treatment will go, most likely thing is either being referred to a therapist who will hopefully accept insurance or I’m going to be put on medication. Either by my GP or getting a referral to a Psychiatrist, the latter not being super likely though.

Fingers crossed I get lucky either way and that I find a good therapist/medication works well on the first try

[tranquil-turbulence]

SS Month ‘23 - Day 28

Day 27 | Day 28 | Day 29

Prompt: Blind Date

WARNING(S): N/A

“Do I look alright?”

“You look really nice, Mama,” Sarada answered, looking up from her phone to smile at her mother’s visage in the mirror. “I’ve never seen that dress before.”

Sakura popped the cover back onto the tube of lipstick, set it down on the armoire, and glanced down at herself. The sparkly little number was a cherry red, something that Ino had helped her pick out forever ago. “Oh, I’ve had this… goodness, years at this point. I don’t think I’ve worn this since before you were born.”

“Really?” Now the teenager was standing, an impressed glimmer in her eyes as she cupped her chin in one hand and moved this way and that.

“Mhm. Auntie Ino picked it out for me.” Sakura took one last glance at her reflection and a wry smile spread across her face at the memories of youthful days. Post-divorce, Ino had proudly said once, her life would only get more exciting from there. Of course, she wasn't wrong - raising a child by herself had certainly been exciting enough.

“Well, whoever you’re meeting is gonna be blown away.”

The woman’s eyes softened, and she reached over to give her daughter a tight hug. “You’re such a sweetheart.”

As she pulled away and glanced at the clock, her eyes widened. “Oh shoot, I need to go! Honey, where’s my purse…?”

 ----------

 Heaving a quick sigh to ground herself, Sakura adjusted her shawl and gripped her purse tighter in her hand,

The restaurant she was meeting him in was warm, inviting, and the hostess smiled brightly at her as she entered. “Good evening, ma’am. Do you have a reservation?”

“Yes,” she responded, “um… under Uzumaki, I believe…?”

“Let’s see, Uzumaki… Uzumaki…” Narrowing her eyes, the hostess typed something into the computer.

Sakura waited as patiently as she could, glancing past her into the dining hall. It was nearly full to capacity, and she added a mental note to thank HInata and her husband for arranging this.

“Ah! Yes, right this way. Your date is here already.” With a wink, the hostess grabbed a menu and gestured to follow.

Sakura walked behind the pretty young woman, glancing here and there at table after table. While most were full of convivial conversation and high spirits, others were empty or only occupied by one or two. Her heart pounded in her chest each time they passed a table with one occupant. Would this be her date? Or would this?

Finally, the hostess paused at a table, and that’s when Sakura’s eyes widened.

Oh he did not. He fucking didn’t.

Her date was as wide-eyed as she was, lips parted as if to say something.

“Alright, enjoy, you two! Your waiter will stop in shortly.” Oblivious to the tension that suddenly engulfed the table, the hostess walked away, leaving Sakura to stare at the unmistakable face of her ex-husband.

“Um,” she started, looking around, “you… you’re the guy? That Hinata told me about?”

“I should’ve known Naruto was gonna try something,” Sasuke groaned quietly, covering his face with one hand.

Now her heart was pounding, but for another reason altogether. It had been years since she’d last had contact with him after the divorce. Whenever he saw their daughter, it was a woman who came to pick her up, not her ex - a coworker of his, she’d claimed, but Sakura was sure he’d rebounded by now. The fact that he was supposed to be her date…

Realizing people were starting to look over, she slowly took a seat.

“Good evening, ma’am, I’ll be your waiter for the evening.” A young man came up to the table, all polite smiles, even as he seemed to clue in on the awkwardness hanging there. “What can I get you to start with?”

Glancing through the menu for a second, Sakura responded, “A Bellini, please.”

“I’ll… take a beer, Guinness,” Sasuke answered hesitantly, glancing over at her before looking at the waiter.

“Alright, I’ll be back when you’re ready.” Nodding, he turned and walked off in the direction of the bar.

Now that he was gone, it was harder to ignore the reason she was here in the first place.

“Sooooo…” Sasuke began quietly, catching her attention. “How is Sarada?”

“Fine as always.” She answered curtly. “She’s going to try out for the debate team next week for an extracurricular.”

“Oh. Well, good for her. She’d excel in that..."

This was too damn awkward. Where were those drinks?

“Look, Sasuke… I’m… I’m sorry about the blind date.” She gestured vaguely to the table. “I know we made up our minds years ago that we were a bad match, and honestly I only agreed to this because Ino said I was too boring now.” Taking a sip of water, she added, “Don’t you have a girlfriend now? I’m surprised.”

A frown creased his brow. “I never had one. I’ve… been busy.”

Oof. Well, way to overthink that situation. She hated the brief seedling of relief that sprouted in her gut before she squished it dead. “Ah. Yeah, I have too.” Raising our daughter, she wanted to say, but at this point any hostility she might have had was gone. She at least counted herself lucky they’d split on amicable terms.

“... Are you disappointed that it’s me you’re meeting?” He asked hesitantly.

Sakura hummed quietly in thought. Was she? “I mean… I wasn’t exactly looking for a boyfriend in the first place… but mostly it feels awkward. I don’t know what they were thinking, trying to set us up again.”

Naruto had been there during the divorce. She remembered not-too-fondly how upset he was that their short-lived marriage had ended so soon, but he hadn’t blamed her. He never blamed either of them. (Well, Hinata had mentioned he was pretty hard on Sasuke for a while, but she chalked it up to him being upset due to him being her high school sweetheart.)

Hinata had been nothing but supportive for the last fourteen years, and for that she was immensely grateful. The first weeks and months after the divorce had left her numb and aimless, going through the motions at the hospital until Tsunade forcibly gave her a vacation to shape herself up. She had been there through every low, through every long night wondering just what went wrong, why she couldn’t love him anymore, and if she had been stupid for thinking she would be an outlier to the warning that young married couples couldn’t last long.

Glancing to the side, she could see their water coming. Oh, thank God.

“And here you are,” he announced to them, balancing a tray in his hand. “One Bellini for the lady, and a beer for the gentleman. Now. Have you had the chance to look through the menu? Any appetizers I can start you off with?”

“Ah, appetizers…?” Sasuke and Sakura glanced at each other. Sakura shrugged, and he shook his head. “No appetizers, then.”

“Alright, nice, going for a main course. What did you decide on?”

Sasuke paused, looking at her. “Do you…?”

Sakura nodded, pointing at the menu. “I’ll take the salmon filet, medium, please.”

“Alright, and what would you like on the side? We’ve got coleslaw, seasonal veggies, a baked potato, mashed potatoes, and rice pilaf.”

“Seasonal veggies, please.”

“Very good, very good…” The waiter turned to Sasuke. “And for you?”

“I’ll have the ribeye, medium rare, with seasonal veggies.”

“Sounds good! I’ll have that out for you shortly.” Accepting the menus back, the waiter walked away from the table.

Sakura wasted no time taking a sip of her drink. Alcohol tolerance be damned, she wanted to be at least tipsy if she was gonna get through this.

Sasuke looked up at her for a moment, before sipping his beer. As he set the glass back on the table, he commented, “I’m not upset.”

“Hm?”

“About… about the date. I’m more surprised than I ought to be, considering Naruto’s…” he grimaced, gesturing with a wave of his hand, “... tendencies, but in some ways I’m… kinda glad it’s you.”

She remained quiet. The little cherry floating in her Bellini was suddenly very interesting to look at. It bobbed freely in the liquid, even as she swirled the glass this way and that.

“I know things ended… poorer than they should have.” Sasuke bowed his head a little, and his dark hair fell over his face. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen his hair that long. “And I’m sorry. I really am.”

Sakura sighed quietly. “Ah, hell, you’re gonna make me feel bad.”

“That’s not what I want to do.”

“Well, if you’re gonna start getting all apologetic and regretful, I’m gonna feel bad if I don’t apologize too.” Her cheeks flushed pink, and she looked away pensively. “Part of that was my fault. I was so sure we were gonna prove everyone wrong and stay together despite the odds, and on top of that I know you had to leave. I was bitter, but I really should’ve known that was gonna be a part of it.”

“It’s not your fault I went into the military, you know.” His gaze was intense, even despite the neutral expression on his face.

“I know that.” She took another measured sip.

“So then why do you feel bad about it?”

“Because I was young and dumb with something to prove.” Her cherry-red lips pressed into a line as she leaned over the table, chin resting atop her knuckles. “You know what they say about military wives. You know what they say about deployment. I heard all of these crazy stories, and I refused to admit that could happen to us. I got so obsessed with being the only woman in your life that I lost my head.”

Sasuke took a pause. Then a soft chortle escaped his throat. “I can’t blame you for that, I suppose. There were many times I worried you would find someone else while I was away. Plenty of senior officers I met had stories about being the ‘other’ in their own relationships.”

A weighty silence enveloped the table. Sakura tapped her nails on the table, their bold color catching the light off of her glass of alcohol. The gel shimmered, and she turned her thumb back and forth, raptured with the way the light bent and curved around the nail.

“It’s surreal.”

“Hm? What is?” She looked up.

“Seeing you again.” His chin rested in his hand, and a faraway expression coloring his face. “You’ve… not changed a bit. You've aged well.”

Her face pinkened, and she had to look down to avoid the undeniable warmth in the barely-there smile that threatened to curve his lips. “Y- you have too. Are you still, uh, a military man?”

“Nah, I got out about a year or so ago.” He shrugged. “I’m tired of it. I wanted to get back to the real world.”

“Oh.” She nodded, her reaction succinctly summed up in that one word. “Well. Uh, good for you. I’m glad you’re back. Does that mean you’re ready to see her?”

Sasuke hummed. “Does she want to see me?”

“She… I don’t know,” the woman answered slowly. “She’s a teenager now. Sometimes I can’t get a read on what she actually wants. She says she doesn’t care, but… sometimes I worry about her. She doesn’t bring up the idea of having a dad, but when I told her I was going on a date tonight she seemed so happy for me.”

Bobbing his head up and down, her ex murmured, “I see.”

“If she does want to, I’m not going to stop her,” she continued, glancing up at him before taking a sip of her drink.

There was something in his tone that made her heart clench a little. “I… I would like that.”

A half-smile tugged at her mouth, and she belatedly noticed the same on his as he drank his beer.

[galaxietm]

So. Here’s a major Update on my situation. 

This is probably the most serious post I've made in a while lol- excuse me if I make a joke or two in this post because I cope with humor. (or if i repeat any phrase in this post at all. there’s a lot that’s happened and i’m just so tired) This post is going to be long, most likely the majority of it will be under a read more. A lot’s happened and I probably won’t even go over it all.

This post will be queued to pop out a few times during the next week or so, as my attempt as updating more people on the situation. Yes I’m aware it’s about 3am my time. This is the best time to post it. Sorry if it’s an inconvenience.

Basically, a long story short of this whole thing that most of you may know about the first part if you've seen my posts: 

Two days after my birthday back in June, my laptop died. I've been waiting for my tax return before I get a new one since I don't have the money otherwise right now, so a roommate has been letting me use his computer for the last two months when needed (and even then i felt bad honestly) and my tax return has yet to actually.... show up. On friday, i’m planning to go to a local IRS office (that’s still like 40 mins away) to try to see what’s going on.

For the second part, speaking of not having the money…. 

All of my roommates are moving out! You heard me right! And all because of stupid drama that happened because I didn't want one of them to take my cat when she moved! 

First it started because two roommates are moving out. It’s been something that’s been planned since may, no big deal. Well, I turned to my other two roommates, letting them know I found someone who could move in and help with rent / bills (whom i’ve known since high school and i know her well!) but they were so adamant to say no just because she had a daughter (and even after finding out that her daughter wouldn’t be here 75% of the time lol) 

Oh! speaking of the first two roommates who are moving out and the one who wanted to take my cat: yeah, one of the two people i’ve been living with for almost 5 years tried to take my cat with them. 

A lot of dumb drama happened, other things that had nothing to do with me wanting to keep my cat (because that’s just how the two people i’ve been living with for nearly 5 years have been! bringing up absolutely nothing to do with what the actual topic / conversation at the time just to change the subject or whatever!) including one of the two who were trying to take my cat starting a screaming match with my mother (and?? threatening to hit her?? causing my brother to threaten him back?? he also tried to weaponize my sexuality against my mom out of nowhere and she just laughed in his face-- but lmao he’s a fucker so it would have been deserved since he’s part of the reason everything blew up) 

So, since this is the same guy whose computer i’ve been using off and on for the last two months when i’m able to get online, i’m going to be removing all of my things from his computer and just wait until my tax return finally gets here so i can get a new laptop of my own. I don’t really want to have to deal with his stuff more than i need to. 

This whole situation and a lot of this has made me realize how toxic the two i’ve been living with for almost 5 years are and have been to me the whole time i’ve known them. i’ve been coming to a lot of realizations the last few days and at this point, i’m waiting for them to move out so the situation can maybe settle down a bit more.

Honestly, so much has happened since wednesday night that’s had me so stressed out, i’ve barely eaten. saturday night i slowly was able to eat a little bit and, as of my shift at work last night, i think i’ve finally gotten my appetite back; but unfortunately the feeling of anxiety mixed with dread has remained because of everything here feeling like it’s falling apart in front of me. 

And, after talking to the landlord, I’m going to be the head of the household / the name on the lease, so to speak. Which also means I have to come up with $500 to pay the deposit before next saturday (yay for that?? fuck me lol) and i have to figure out a new roommate situation, get all the bills either switched over to my name or open a new account for them, replace all the kitchenware that my soon to be ex roommates have already packed and taken, replace all the furniture they’re taking, replace the pots and pans they took, and try not to feel like i’m having another breakdown. 

at least i get to keep my cat, right? honestly, she’s like an emotional support animal to me at this point and i don’t know what i would have done without her. probably broken down yet again tbh.

honestly, if it wasn’t for my cat, my mom, my older brother, and @peachiiihearts​​​, i probably would have lost it because of everything going on. (and yes dew is up to date with everything, she’s been one of the few people i’ve been able to talk to about all this because wow so much happened within the span of two days and i’m just tired)

this is a long-winded say of saying that I’m going to be placing the blog on a full hiatus until, not only all of this is solved, but mainly until my tax return comes in and i’m finally able to get a new laptop. if that works out, i’ll slowly come back, depending how this situation develops.

honestly?? it sucks because i’ve legitimately missed getting online and writing with you guys. my mental health has been all over the place due to the lack of creative outlet i had easy access to before. i’ve done some writing on goog.le docs, but it’s been hard to find the time to get on here to post it due to me not wanting to bother that soon-to-be ex roommate, but now i just flat out don’t want to deal with him for more than i have to.

when i eventually come back?? i’ll be so happy to try to get back into writing because hot damn i miss it and some of my characters so fucking much.

if anyone wants to chat on disc.ord, or maybe figure out a 1 on 1 server so we can write or talk about muses or w/e, my disc.ord is josie#1503. i’d prefer if only mutuals add me if possible!

for now, i’ll post this, lurk for a bit and maybe add some of you back if you add me (and i’ll keep a link to this post on my phone just in case some of ya’ll like or reply to it) and after getting off, i may not be back until i’m able to get a new laptop.

thanks for being patient with me guys, i really appreciate it. 

one last thing:

something that’s helped me cope with this shitstorm of a situation is humor, so here’s one joke i’ve been making a lot the last few days to those around me:  ”i went from living in a sitcom of a situation, to a drama, skipping right over a soap opera and straight into being in a telenovela.”

i’ve also made a joke about getting an idea for a webcomic from all this fuckery as a way to cope, so we’ll see what happens??

and here’s a gif that’s basically been me for the last few days