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roquebr · 14 days

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The Fury

Barcelona femeni x reader

Aitana Bonmáti x reader

Summary: When all seems lost, a turnaround can be more impressive.

The rocking of the bus gives me a slight feeling of relaxation, my headphones placed carelessly in my ears, with the sound at the highest volume, hoping to hide the prevailing noise of the place.

The youngest girls on the team are very excited about today's game, it's no surprise that we are heading towards the first leg of the Champions League semi-final, simply the biggest European championship. So it's not surprising when some of them are sitting on their benches with greater concentration than the other side, which is a mess.

Everyone has their own way of preparing, mine being to ignore everyone around me as much as possible until we get to the changing rooms, music being my escape point, I always turn to Brazilian music to be my company during these moments, it's a way of feel close to home.

— Meto o chapéu na cabeça ela perde a cabeça e me fala assim... – When the song approaches the chorus, I feel a nudge on my shoulders, I pause the song and look at the intruder who disturbed me and then I relax, yeah Alexia, she knows about my pre-game ritual and I know she wouldn't disturb me for nothing.

—Hey Ale, allright?

— Yes, sorry to bother you, but we've already arrived at the stadium and the girls are already coming down.

— I lost track, I'm going too, I'm just going to get my things — I give a small smile, thanking him for his kindness.

— I see you're a little out of tune, is everything okay? – He places one of his free hands on my shoulder, with the other holding his belongings. I don't know how she manages to balance everything like that, if it were me, my cell phone would definitely be broken on the floor by now.

— Yes, I'm just concentrating on the game, you know how it is, right?

— I understand, but if you need anything you can talk to me. – I don't answer, stopping myself from just returning a kind look.

We continued walking towards the changing rooms, greeting the workers as I passed.

I know that this nervousness is not just because of the game, but because of the desire to show more than my best on the field, having arrived at the club just under a year ago, coming straight as a standout on the Ferroviária, I knew that from the beginning I had to show more than I expected.

I've had a strong presence in many of the 37 unbeaten games played so far, I've been a regular starter, but apparently I'm not good enough to start today.

As soon as Jona announced who would start before we got on the bus, my spirits immediately dropped, I know he decided the lineup thinking about preserving some prominent athletes for possible future changes of keys, but that doesn't negate my feeling of incompetence to start on the bench.

We arrive at the locker room and I immediately head to my cubicle, my headphones that have been stored for a long time no longer deprive me of Rosalía's loud voice that emanates from the absurdly loud speaker in my ears.

I change calmly, but I decide not to wear socks or football boots for now, I'm going to interpret this as a protest for being on the bench today, a bit childish I know.

I sigh and lean my head against the wall, where my game t-shirt used to hang, I watch my happy teammates as they transform and sway to the beat of the music.

I saw my girlfriend of 1 year, we met in October 2022 at Ballon D'or, I went to the event as Marta's guest after telling her in a free conversation that I would like to have the experience of going.

We talked for just over a month and soon we were dating, excited, right, but the feeling was intense and it happened, at first it was difficult because of the distance because I was in Brazil and she was in Spain, but we got through it together, whenever I could I went to visit her. there. Unfortunately, she never managed to go to Brazil, but I will resolve that during our next “vacation”.

Jona arrives in the locker room and starts his usual motivational talk, honestly I don't feel like listening to anything, with my mind confused I just focus on going to the bench.

Sit next to Alexia with Lucy on the other side, the traditional song of the champions plays bringing a smile to my face, regardless of my wounded pride, every time this anthem plays I can't help but get emotional, it's a dream that becomes childhood reality.

The first half of the game was somewhat disappointing, Barça put pressure on Chelsea's marking but unfortunately the defense did not give in, in the 39th minute came the beginning of our fall, taking advantage of a passing error from Irene that gave Chelsea close possession of the ball. to the area, making a respectable exchange of passes until he found a partner in the area, he deceived Keira's marking and passed to Cuthbert who wasted no time in scoring. We came out at half-time with 1-0 to Chelsea.

The atmosphere in the dressing room is very different to when we arrived, the totally dead Barcelona vibe contradicts the emotion I normally feel, word after word, motivation after motivation, all falling on my deaf ears as each teammate seemed focused on acquiring each lyric. said by him.

With a wave of his hand, Jona takes me aside to talk.

— YN, where are your boots?

— It's in the bank, Jona.

He sighs lightly in annoyance, the stress in his shoulders is visible.

— Look, I know you're disappointed that I didn't start today, but please put your boots on, I'll be with you on the field in about 10 minutes.

— Great Jona, I'll put it on.

Returning to the second half, a little more excited, I ask one of the physiotherapists there to put a bandage on my ankle, Sophia is her name, as I injured my ankle during the game I always put a bandage on it to avoid future injuries.

After Sophia finishes, I put on my socks and football boots, I kiss each shin guard before putting them on.

The second half began, Barça had difficulty getting into the game, then a penalty was awarded in our favor, we celebrated along with the cheers of the fans, this would be our chance to continue in the game.

The referee goes to the Var and immediately cancels the penalty, apparently the referee interprets that Salma's offside hinders the defender, nonsense if I may say so.

At 63 minutes Jona makes 2 substitutions, bringing Alexia and Lucy. Ingrid and Ona sit next to me, respectively tired and disappointed with their performances, I give both thighs a comforting squeeze.

I wait anxiously at the edge of my bench for a while, waiting for the moment when Jona replaces me. In the 74th minute, when Ramirez, Chelsea's striker, missed the chance to expand, my heart almost exploded. Patri managed to disrupt her position well, although he still let her to finish the shot.

— Jonas!! – He doesn’t even turn around in recognition.

— Que saco mano. – I go down towards him who was on the side of the field. — Jona, am I going in now?

— Be patient, YN, go to warm up.

A frown appears on my face, but I do as I'm told, not before kicking the water bottle nearby. My companions give me sympathetic looks, which makes me more stressed.

At 78 minutes, the assistant coach says I'm ready and Jona calls me to the sidelines next to him.

— Listen to me, we need you now in this field, are you ready for this challenge. – She pauses only to give the numbers to the fourth referee who is preparing the replacement panel. — We need to decide this game at home, with our fans who came here to watch us play, with courage and love when we enter the field. I know you are ready for this challenge, show who you are and what you came for.

I can't find words, so I just listen, shaking my head with a determined look. I take the place of Mariona, who wishes me good luck, running to my position, passing my girlfriend, blinking and returning to focus on the game.

Time: 80m

In a quick run down the wing, Frido sends it to Caro who tries to finish, the goalkeeper saves but the rebound goes straight to my side, I don't miss the opportunity and send it into the goal. I see Salma grab the ball so we can restart the game, I run back to position, jumping and calling the fans to play together.

Time: 83m

Patri intercepts the ball in midfield, passes it to Aitana who dribbles the opponent, leaving her mistaken, I ask for the ball and soon receive it. I notice that the goalkeeper's left corner is free, I prepare my leg and take a strong low shot, I see the ball roll quickly as the goalkeeper tries to launch himself too late, then you see the net ripple. We changed the course of the game, but it's still not enough.

Time: 85m

Aitana is having an impressive run taking advantage of Chelsea's neglect, a defender in front of her, with options like me on the left and Caro on the right, with Salma right behind. Aita rolls the ball to me, I take a slight touch to the right and shoot with confidence, the ball takes a threatening curve and soon falls into the net, surprising the goalkeeper.

Now I allow myself to celebrate, I run close to the flag post and slide down on my knees, my teammates hugging me and pulling me everywhere, the euphoria was so much that it felt like we had won the Champions League right there. I felt like crying, I scored my first hat-trick in the Champions League

Time: 88m

We receive a free kick after the Chelsea player almost grabbed Aitana trying to take the ball away from her, Salma takes the free kick which hits Lucy's head, who aims the ball towards the goalkeeper's box. She came spinning through the air, landing perfectly at my feet, I beautifully pushed her towards the goal and fell into the hug. With every second that passed the crowd became louder and louder, if possible.

Time: 90m

The gas had not passed, it was getting stronger and stronger, now with a considerable advantage, we preferred to send the team back. Keeping score is crucial for the second leg in England. Although we are currently more focused on defense, that doesn't stop us from also attacking at every opportunity. The team's confidence increased and we played calmer, making more passes and remaining calm when under pressure.

Caro has the ball on the right wing, looks up and sees the perfect opportunity to cross.

Caro's always necessary crossing makes things easier for me, I wait for her to reach the right height before jumping and sending the bike, when I fall backwards onto the grass my pain is numbed by a very loud vibration coming from the stadium.

Barely having time for anything else, I run towards the small Chelsea fans present in the stadium, stop in front of them and place both hands on my waist, with an arrogant posture, soon my teammates come to me in pure euphoria. Many compliments reach my ears, I allow myself to embrace them as much as possible before we have to return to the starting position.

9 minutes of extra time were allowed, nothing else impressive happened during this period, the 3 characteristic whistles were heard. There were many celebrations after we greeted the rival team. I head towards the referee team who hands me the ball.

Jona hugs me congratulating me on a successful game, the team soon arrives and gives me the idea of throwing myself into the air, I try to run away but I'm not fast enough, after the desperate seconds pass I run to the fans, my spirits were high today.

I ask a member of the coaching staff to hold my ball for me, while I jump into the arms of the crowd, doing my best to sign and take as many photos with everyone as possible, the only limit being the barrier.

I feel an arm go around my waist as I sign a Mapí fan t-shirt. I look to the side and see that it is Aitana, who is already looking at me with her beautiful smile on her face, her bright eyes remind me of the constellations.

I can't help but smile with her, our passionate looks betrayed our enormous passion for each other, which doesn't go unnoticed by the public, to everyone's euphoria and my poor heart, she stands on tiptoe and gives a long kiss to the my lips. , fireworks light up in my belly.

Soon the photo of that moment would be published on many pages, one of them was the official Barça account, and certainly on many fan pages that would blow up my cell phone with notifications.

But I couldn't care less, I played an impressive game and had my girl in my arms, could I ask for more than that?.

!!The inspiration for the character to score 5 goals in 10 minutes came from Lewa, when he played for Bayern he did this feat, so I thought “why not put that in the fic?”!" ... sorry for any mistakes, english is not my main language

#barcelona femeni x reader #aitana bonmati x reader #barca femini x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woman champions league #football #soccer

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petrow1tch · 20 days

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Rusians hit the fucking center of my city Dnipro, the train station with tram and bus turnaround where thousands of people go through every day, often completely filling in every possible open space. What the fuck. There are dead children

#russian agression #russia is a terrorist state #russian invasion of ukraine #petrotalk #what the actual fuck dude #i dnt have words #im so tired of them just killing us cuz no one does anything about it

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hacash · 1 year

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I saw a couple of reviews saying there wasn’t enough football being shown in season 3, this is why Ted Lasso is ‘losing its touch’, we’re not seeing enough of the significant moments on the pitch etc etc; so because I’m a pedantic little fucker I decided to science the shit out of this. Bare in mind, ‘no football featured’ means no matches, so with that in mind:

Season 1

Pilot – No football featured

Biscuits – Richmond’s bad loss against Crystal Palace, not shown

Trent Crimm: The Independent – no football featured

For the Children – no football featured

Tan Lines – Richmond’s win against Unknown, match shown

Two Aces – No football featured

Make Rebecca Great Again – Richmond’s significant win against Everton, match not shown

The Diamond Dogs – No football featured

All Apologies – No football featured

The Hope That Kills You – Richmond lose against Man City, match shown

Season 2

Goodbye Earl – Richmond draws against Nottingham, match shown (sorry Dani…)

Lavender – No football featured

Do the Right-est Thing – Richmond lose against Coventry after Sam’s protest, match not shown

Carol of the Bells – No football featured

Rainbow – Richmond undergo a bad streak and then play Sheffield Wednesday, match not shown (but the run-up is)

The Signal – Richmond win against Tottenham, match shown (but not the crucial victory)

Headspace – No football featured

Man City – Richmond lose against Man City, match shown

Beard After Hours – No football featured

No Weddings and a Funeral – No football featured

Midnight Train to Royston – Sam scores a hat-trick, not shown

Inverting the Pyramid of Success – Richmond win against Brentford, match shown

Season 3

Smells Like Mean Spirit – No football featured

(I Don’t Want to Go to) Chelsea – Richmond ties with Chelsea, match shown

4-5-1 – Zava leads Richmond to victory, series of matches shown

Big Week – Richmond lose to West Ham, match shown

Signs – Richmond experience a bad run of losses, aftermath of matches shown

Sunflowers – Richmond lose to Ajax, aftermath of match shown

The Strings That Bind Us – Richmond lose to Arsenal, match shown

We’ll Never Have Paris – Richmond enjoy a winning streak, only the reactions shown

La Locker Room Aux Folles – Richmond win against Brighton, match shown (but not Colin’s turnaround)

I’d say we’re actually seeing a lot more football this season than we have done before. The pattern of not having all the significant moments on the pitch portrayed is something Ted Lasso has been doing since season 1, after all. Remember the win at Everton? Nate’s magnificent ‘Park The Bus’ over Tottenham? Sam’s hat-trick? Isaac getting his mojo back on the field? Nope, neither do I, because we didn’t see them. In a way they’re not nearly as important as the character development off the field that surrounds it, and the show’s always been very honest about that.

After all, the cast do a great job, but with the exception of Cristo Fernandez, they’re not footballers - they were never going to be expected to do all the work on the pitch. Now there might be something of an argument for saying ‘but we’re less emotionally invested in where the team are placing in the league’ this season - but if I’m honest, I remember approaching both the s1 and s2 finales thinking ‘oh that’s where they are in the league?! god, I forgot we were supposed to be keeping track of that’. Football has always been a supporting role in this show, not the star.

Anyway, EXCUSE ME SIR THIS IS THE FOOTBALL ADJACENT SHOW NOT SOCCER SATURDAY THANK YOU

#ted lasso

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shadyhouse · 1 year

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hey guys, i hate having to do this all the time but im scary broke again 😞 i've been applying to jobs all week, i even applied to a temp agency, but i havent had any luck with work... i havent gotten a commission in over two weeks now, probably because it's con season, so i've been barely scraping by. i'm trans and i have no family to help me out so i'm trying to survive on my own pretty much

i just woke up this text and im freaking out. i have bills coming up, and i only have $4 in my bank account. i need to start paying next month's bills in a week!! hopefully i can score a project with the temp agency soon but it doesn't seem likely so far

i'm still applying to jobs but since i can only get jobs on my bus route i have to find things in my area which has been difficult. i've been working on commissions daily and trying to get through my queue as fast as i can.

if anyone wants to help me at all, i'd really appreciate it... anything at all helps. i'm open for commissions too! my turnaround time is 1-2 months depending on complexity. you can see my art here https://furaffinity.net/user/shadyhouse (warning: most of what i make is nsfw, please only commission me if youre 18+)

if you want to just donate and help me out, even a couple of dollars will help me, you can send it here

paypal.me/bewearrr

venmo: @tobias_leviathan

ko-fi.com/shadyhouse

otherwise, i'd really appreciate reblogs 🙏 please don't feel obligated to donate if you cant afford to, i'd like for you to be able to survive as well!

thank you for reading this far, i'm sorry i have to do this all the time, i really wish it wasn't the case. i'll update if things start to look up for me

#i never know what to tag these things um.... sorry 😞 im so embarrassed every time i have to make these posts #if it were up to me i would have a job already but we live in a hellscape #where they expect you to do a song and dance just to score an interview nevermind actually get the job #im really struggling. im very very unmedicated and im very very depressed and every day is a goddamn hurdle at this point im SICK of this

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 1 year

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I love the idea of Teddy wanting to perform like his mom - maybe the whole family going to support a Christmas pageant or play he’s in??

"Ma," Teddy yelled down the stairs, "Where did you put my cans?"

"Where are they supposed to be?" you call back, tossing apple slices into is lunch and pouring some cheerios onto the tray of Tilde's highchair before handing Bruce a cup of coffee where he sat enjoying the chaos of mornings in the Todd house.

"Cans?" he asked.

"Headphones," you explain, "The big ones we use for- Teddy. No. Absolutely not-"

"But my character-" he started pouting, gesturing to his outfit.

"Dude, you're not old enough to be trying to get method with it. You Cannot go to school dressed as newsie."

"Ma you wear costumes," he huffed.

"Yeah. For live shows," you remind him, "Most of the time I wear pajamas-"

"Can I wear pajamas?"

"You can wear your uniform," you snort. "March. If you miss the bus you're walking."

"Never a dull moment," Bruce chuckled, taking the Banana you had been about to cut up for Tilde and the knife deftly so you could finish lunches. "But why the costume?"

"I wrote him a bit part for Copper," you explain, "Because he really wanted to be in a booth."

"Starting him early?"

"It's an audio drama so we don't have live components," you hum, shrugging, "And If he really wants to do this it's a start of a resume... I started at 16 on accident."

"The Frankenstein thing, right?"

"Dr. Jekyell and Mr. Hyde," you correct. "That was the actual school project we were working on."

"That one sucks mom," Teddy said, taking his lunch.

"Dude we had a budget of five dollars and a week of turnaround time," you snort. "It was a community college English project."

"You should remaster it-"

"And you should catch your bus," you tell him, kissing his head and nodding out the window where it was pulling up. Sending him sprinting out the door and calling his I love you over his shoulder.

#Jason Todd #Jason Todd x reader #teddy!verse #ask answered #minors dni

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seat-safety-switch · 1 year

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When you’re up, you’re up. When you fall, that’s when everyone steps on you and tells you what they really thought of you. This is what’s happened to Volkswagen over the last couple of years. Whereas they were once a desirable consumer brand who made a series of cars that all look vaguely similar, smell of crayons, and sprout inexplicable issues just out of warranty, now they had become some kind of foul pollution-spewing death machine. This was bad in and of itself, but it turns out that they lied about that pollution to regulators, and regulators have a tendency to have access to regulation.

Journalists each took a turn gasping in horror at how the sort of sketchy company built on cynically value-engineering front-drive Trabant clones was gassing monkeys and writing an “if testing then cheat” statement into their computers’ firmware. It was a real bad show, and like all really bad shows, it translated into big hits. Everyone lined up to make fun of the automotive giant as they plunged from second place sales to well behind Mazda and recalled hundreds of thousands of their cars to make them slower and worse while the lawman of every country that has roads each held a gun to their head. Like I said, kick ‘em while they’re down.

Now, Volkswagen is running around the country, stuffing it with electric car chargers. Electricity never did anything bad to monkeys, they explain, just elephants, and that was that Edison guy’s fault. They’re on their comeback path, which will inevitably involve some “retro” styled automobiles. Hey look, it’s the VW hippie bus all over again, except now it’s a lot faster than before and should now hold up in a crash with a particularly angry toddler. Great stuff overall, the kind of whizbang all-fronts attack that’s meant to make journalists’ bosses remember who is liable to take out a bunch of really expensive advertising in their magazines.

Personally, I think it’s a masterful turnaround. Some real grade-A corporate resuscitation. And I’m not just saying that so that I can get the number of their marketing consultants, because traffic court seems to be getting wise to my new line of self-driving taco trucks using technology stolen from that Predator drone that crashed into the carnival midway last summer. I’ll maintain until my death that that old-folks’ home was presenting a grade-A hunger target, and needed to be wiped off the face of the Earth with hot sauce.

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therobotmonster · 2 years

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I am about halfway through season 1 of Steven Universe and...it's not bad, per se, it just seems to be designed to create reaction GIFs from, in the same way that 80s cartoons were designed to make toys out of. So I am somewhat confused on how this became, like, the show people were talking about, for years, and left behind a drama crater the size of the Minoan Eruption. So I would like your thoughts, opinions, forbidden knowledge on this subject, any of it (saying "ask again when you've finished the show" is also okay).

Things will get much more clear as time goes on, and its hard to say in detail what I think the problem is without spoiling things, but I think I can address a problem with media literacy around kidvid, and I can use She-Ra to talk about some similar issues without spoiling SU.

There's a spectrum of how genre fiction approaches its fantastical elements, largely in how much of the events reflect the realities of the world-building, and how much they're not actually about real world things. It's the simulated reality VS the allegorical playground, and nothing is really all of one and none of the other.

Kidvid, no matter what else it is about, or how well constructed its world-building, is almost always about the the emotional realities of the target audience. This pretty much has to happen as that’s what aiming a show at children means. This is even true for the Advert-Toons of the 80s and 90s.

The core GI-Joe fantasy, according to the showrunners, was he comforting idea that if you’re in trouble, you’ll have a big squad of friends to back you up. Cobra is “a ruthless terrorist organization determined to rule the world” but they’re actually just the jerky kids on the playground that fight about who is boss, bully other kids, and don’t share. You aren’t supposed to take the supervillainy seriously, it’s just there to be an exciting adventure... in short:

“By the time reinforcements show up, your mom should be waiting for you in the bus turnaround”

But cartoons have gotten more sophisticated since then (on average, there’s always been gems) and so have their allegories. One need only compare old and new She-Ra for that. This is, overall good, and the kids are largely going to like it and be done well by it, as they’re interacting with it on its intended level.

It’s real easy to overlook the doomsday devices or the existential nightmare of a mind control scheme when the allegory is about good play vs bad play. Nobody is going to put together a sincere think-piece about OG Shadow Weaver being a war criminal, and thus unworthy of being offered redemption in the old series.

There will, however, be stronger feelings about Shadow Weaver from the New She-Ra, as her allegory is “abusive gas-lighting mother figure.” The show recognizes this, and so her turnaround had to come with a self-sacrifice.

Entrapta, on the other hand, is an allegorical kid, like the rest of the princesses. She represents the audience in the same way the other girls do. Her misdeeds are often seen as unforgivable acts of near-genocide, and while that is factually true, in-universe, in the story, in the emotional reality of the tale as intended for the audience, the whole planet-quake thing is representative of a screw-up. A screw up that feels so big that it seems like you’ve destroyed the world.

For an adult audience seeing the events only as in-story actions, that’s not the kind of mistake you can come back from. But if you’re a kid that’s ever done something that caused a lot of harm you didn’t intend, you know that feeling. If you’re a kid who made a small mistake and has rejection dysphoria (something kids who relate to Entrapta might deal with) you know what that feels like. And the idea that such a mistake is recoverable is essential.

The recent shows aren’t entirely blameless. They make mistakes in how they present their allegories from time to time, because they’re human shows written by human beings. But largely, its the friction between a genre cartoon trying to address a big emotional reality and a big constructed fantasy world together, and the cross-bleed causing problems with the communication of both, at least in the case of its adult audience.

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harveyb-wabbit92 · 8 months

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Hiroyuki : How long does it take before you start hallucinating from sleep deprivation?

Fuma: I think—

Shio, with heavy bags under her eyes: Seventy hours...

Taiga: How do you know that?

Shio, slurring her words: There's a clown behind Hiro-kun.

{The tri-squad and Hiroyuki turnaround expecting to see nothing but instead they see Kirisaki standing in the rainy street behind them waving and smiling manically before disappearing when a bus drives by.]

#s: tumblr #ultraman #ultraman incorrect quotes #tokusatsu #tokusatsu incorrect quotes #ultraman taiga #ultraman fuma #hiroyuki kudo #ultraman kirisaki #ultraman tregear #ultraman oc: Shio #alien oc #afab oc #Taiga x Shio #Ultraman Taiga x oc

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alesyira · 6 months

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fruitless

super early draft, but i'm spending nano wordcount working on the accidental vigilante story. it's really neat to revisit something in a new way. this reads a bit like it could belong in the sweeter, softer cute-guy AU, but it won't stay that way for long. this content is probably going to be what part of the first chapter once i get enough of the series offering done & edited to start posting, but i want to share early even if this part isn't terribly exciting. Writing is writing and it's been way way way too long.

Fun fact, most of this was written with voice recognition, so if you notice some weird punctuation or typos, no you did not. I'll be sweeping for bugs before sharing on AO3. Thank you for reading!!

He turned down his mother's help to help find his new apartment. He'd already done so many things on his own (from the relative safety of his childhood home) that surely this low-stakes task is something he can accomplish given enough time and resources.

Maybe if he'd been pressed for faster turnaround, kicked out and wandering the streets with nowhere else to go, he might've been willing to accept an adult’s help navigating the strange world of leases and rentals and potentially shady (or dangerous) deals.

But no, he does some poking around online, asks his friends what they would do, and then does his best on his own. He tries a few places in person and is immediately turned away at the door.

He should have figured. It’s not exactly safe to walk up to an unfamiliar building and ask to see available units.

There’s been too much crime in the last few years for people to be very trusting of strangers.

After that, he tries calling places before showing up. He gets similar results. No one is willing to meet with an unknown variable with a suspiciously nervous youthful voice and promises of enough cash to cover the first three months of rent.

He starts to get a little frustrated, but he runs his fingers through his hair and takes a deep breath as he leans against the glass wall at the local bus stop. He shouldn’t expect to find much in only one day of apartment searching.

He needs a mediator. A contractor. Someone who knows these people and can get him an in, or can at least take down his information and find a few willing parties to hear him out without assuming he’s going to rob them blind.

A local realtor’s office doesn’t seem very impressed by his youth, and even less impressed when he hands over one of his faked IDs. Foreigner, but at least it lists a quirk. He doesn’t want to think about what kinds of dismissal he’d see if he dared trying to apply for an apartment as a quirkless citizen.

Their interest perks a little at his available budget, but he gets a firm denial within thirty minutes.

Nothing available in the surrounding areas.

He wilts a little.

It’s fine.

Probably.

He can keep looking for something.

The realtor’s office isn’t completely cruel, though, and promises to put him on a waiting list.

He jots down his phone number in the middle of a dusty page in an aging binder, feeling very little hope they’ll call him back.

He picks up a little pint of strawberry ice cream on his way home that afternoon, a little bummed that he’s had no luck.

It’s not worth getting upset over one fruitless day of searching.

He still has plenty of time to figure something out.

The warm scents of home-cooked food greet him as he pushes open the front door. He only has one key on his keychain, so there’s nothing to jingle as he pockets it and kneels to remove his shoes with a little sigh. The door clicks quietly as he locks it, and his mother is waiting for him with a soft expression when he turns around.

Sometimes it surprises him that she knows when he gets home even if he hasn't yet said a word.

“Welcome home,” she murmurs, her keen gaze catching sight of his half-smile. “No luck, today?”

He shrugs and holds out the pint of ice cream.

Dinner is quiet, but by the time dessert rolls around he’s feeling a lot better. She refuses to let him help with the dishes, instead shooing him toward the living room to pick out a movie they can watch together.

He selects a goofy pre-quirk spy flick and pauses it on the opening title, then opens his laptop to poke around on the forums until his mom joins him.

His inbox has over a dozen unread messages.

“Weird,” he mutters, clicking into them with cautious curiosity. The subject lines are usually the first indication of spam mail, but these are all well-written, and he quickly discovers they're advertisements for apartment offerings from all over the city.

Not spam.

But he doesn’t remember giving his email to the realtor’s office. He chews his lip as he thinks back through his day. When could he have-?

He absently skims the first message.

Amenities: Rooftop pool. State-of-the-art heroNet connection speeds.

Izuku scoffs. Being out in the open, exposed to the elements and also anyone who might be flying/jumping/sneaking about overhead? Maybe before quirks that would have been nice, but not anymore. The heroNet connection claim sounds pretty good, but he doesn’t need speed as much as reliability, and his wireless setup can keep him running from nearly anywhere in the city.

Amenities: One block away from the city library. Gorgeous floor-to-ceiling picture windows. Park within easy walking distance.

He pauses and purses his lips. The library is a little tempting, but he really has all the information he needs at his fingertips. And he likes looking out of big windows, but he doesn’t feel very safe around them. Curtains would be a necessity. Park close by is both a blessing and a curse, probably beautiful and very dangerous, unless that’s a more expensive part of the city that still retains some hero presence. (In which case, he probably can’t afford that apartment, anyways.)

Amenities: Well-aged closed-circuit security system. Cafe on first floor, residents only.

Izuku’s finger hovers over the touch pad. This one sounds promising. Closed-circuit systems are notoriously difficult to get into without being on-site. And he likes cafes, especially ones that sound like he won’t have to worry about being surrounded by a lot of strangers.

His mom joins him on the couch with a blanket and two cups of tea.

He shuts his laptop with a bright grin, already feeling the hope welling up within him.

The advertisements can wait until morning.

With the clarity of morning and even more apartment offerings in his inbox, he starts thinking back to the day before. He’s certain he hadn’t written his email address on anything. He stares at the messages, tapping between them, searching the metadata for clues or patterns as his mind whirs through possibilities. Maybe his phone number is linked with his email address in some obscure database?

He absently starts a search on his phone number in a background window to see how many hits he can generate before he returns to the advertisements. No other identifying information can be found within the messages, so he doesn't think it's been somehow linked with his name. All the messages come from different addresses, different systems, different networks. There doesn't seem to be a common thread between any of the sources.

It's as if he's been added to some kind of housing mailing list.

The background window flickers to indicate the search has completed.

No hits.

He breathes a little sigh of relief. That's one less thing to worry about. But still…

Had he really handed out his email address and forgotten about it?

He absently taps his finger against a key.

He hates to think he's forgotten something that important, but he also hates to think that someone took one look at his face as he walked into the realtor's office and immediately knew how to reach him.

(That seems nearly impossible, but quirks are capable of some nearly impossible stuff.)

there's more coming pretty soon as scenes sneak out of my notes and outline. <3 ily

#midoriya izuku #izuku midoriya #mha #mha fanfiction #bnha #bnha fanfiction #two steps to the left AU #accidental vigilante AU

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vorefluff · 9 months

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Movie Time, Chapter 7

Chapter 7 of 'Breathe Life, Outrunning Our Doom'!

Find the rest of the story and overall TWs here!

POV: Yarrop

Wordcount: 2.7k

The whole household goes to a movie, and Yarrop continues to not like the pastime of 'thinking'.

Art for this chapter will be coming a bit later!

“You all wanted to see that movie, ‘Belly Of The Beast’, right?” Co asks, poking his head out of the hallway.

Yarrop looks up from his game as sounds of enthusiastic agreement come from both Ribbonsy - sitting on the couch opposite him - and Damien in the kitchen.

“Alright, well, I just managed to snag a ticket before the showing sold out. It’s for this Sunday at 6pm. But I only managed to snag one. So we got two options - either I can smuggle you all in, or I can cancel the ticket and see if I can find a group of four tickets for a week or two away. Or three tickets, you didn’t seem too excited about it Yarrop,” Co says, walking as he’s talking and ending up behind the couch that Ribbonsy is on.

Yarrop mulls it over for a second. It unnerves him whenever the house is completely silent. On the other hand, theaters are overwhelming. Especially packed ones. Eh. Whatever. “I’ll go if Damien goes,” Yarrop says with a shrug. Too much noise is better than too little noise.

“I’m going!” Damien chimes in, abandoning the kitchen. Well, there’s that answer.

“Alright. Do you all vote for being smuggled, or finding a later showing with more seats?” Co asks.

“Kinda on point for the movie, eh? I vote smuggled,” Ribbonsy says, looking up at Co.

Yarrop shrugs again. He doesn’t particularly care either way. Getting smuggled means he doesn’t need to bring his forearm crutches, which is a bonus.

Co looks at Damien and raises an eyebrow, waiting. Yarrop turns to look too.

Damien meets Co’s gaze for an impromptu staredown, his eyes slightly narrowed and a muffin in his hand.

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” Co offers.

Damien’s shoulders drop. “Buh the spoilerssssssss. Utoob will be full of themmmmm,” he whines, his expression turning slightly pleading.

“Sounds like a you problem,” Co says with a shrug.

“What if I take the seat an’ smuggle all o’ you in?” Damien asks, perking up.

“I have to drive.”

“I can eat y’all in the parking lot, or I can take the bus,” Damien says, giving a toothy grin and getting a determined glint in his eyes.

There’s another couple beats of silence as they start another staredown, some sort of subtle war of wills.

Yarrop looks to Ribbonsy, who’s similarly watching this all go down. They seem to be debating something themself, but aren’t speaking any opposition to the idea.

Co breaks first, glancing down at Ribbonsy. Ribbonsy shrugs. He looks back up at Damien. “Fine. On two conditions. Teeth guards for eating and returning, as well as keeping your stomach clean for the whole thing. Meaning no movie snacks for you.”

Damien narrows his eyes, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head as he considers the offer. He’s made it plenty clear how much he hates the damn teeth guards, particularly since they make it nearly impossible to talk. His eyes bounce between the three of them.

“Deal,” Damien says and grins widely.

------------

It’s Sunday, 4pm. Two hours before the movie, and about half an hour before Damien needs to get on the bus. Damien is to carry them past the ticket scanner, retrieve them in a bathroom stall, hide them in his hood, they’ll watch the movie on his shoulders, and then back down the hatch for the trip home. The possibility of just carrying them from the parking lot past the ticket scanner was shot down due to the turnaround time being rough on the throat.

Damien and Co were the ones that discussed more about the specifics. Which, knowing Damien, was most likely him being incredibly stubborn and negotiating for the option that’d let him hold the entire household for the longest reasonable amount of time. Predictable.

Damien sits on the coffee table, teeth guards in place, with the three of them on the couch facing him. It’s just so insanely funny to Yarrop - the three of them, all 6 feet tall or more, across from the short neon menace.

Yarrop snickers. Eyes turn to look at him and he just shakes his head.

Damien has a barely contained giddy ravenous glint to his eyes that Yarrop’s allll too familiar with. It’s been a good 4 hours since lunch, so his stomach should be empty by now. It usually doesn’t take more than 2 or 3 hours maximum, and typically shorter than that. That is, assuming Damien has resisted the urge to snack or eat anything since then.

Co breaks the awkward silence. “...So who’s going first?” he asks, looking between Yarrop and Ribbonsy.

Damien points at Co.

“Me?” Co asks, pointing at his own chest.

Damien nods. Ribbonsy pats Co’s shoulders as they slump. Yarrop watches as Co grimaces and holds out his hand.

“Well, it had to happen sooner or later,” Co says. He makes a rather undignified yelp as Damien swiftly pulls his hand to bite his wrist.

Yarrop snickers, and Co turns to glare at him for a moment. That moment doesn’t last long, due to Co needing to close his eyes from how dizzyingly fast the man is getting smaller. Within seconds, Damien is grabbing Co’s leg to keep him from falling, then grabbing his torso like a doll. The second that Co hits the right size, Damien wastes no time and tosses his head back. It gives a great view of his throat as his adam’s apple bobs. You can even see the ridges of the windpipe as it pushes against the skin, like you would see for someone with giant genes.

Damien puts a hand to his stomach, grins, and wipes drool off his chin with the other hand. He looks between the two of them expectantly. Ribbonsy looks like they’re reconsidering all their choices thus far.

“Be my guest,” Yarrop says to Ribbonsy with a smirk as he gestures to Damien.

Damien’s eyes lock on Ribbonsy, and Ribbonsy sighs. They hold out their hand and close their eyes before it even starts.

Damien does the same thing for Ribbonsy that he did for Co, although perhaps a bit rougher. Their skin seemed to dent a bit more around Damien’s teeth guards, and it might even bruise a little later. To Ribbonsy’s credit, they don’t flinch.

Within seconds, Ribbonsy’s perfectly bite sized too. Damien throws his head back and swallows them, although Yarrop can tell that he’s struggling a bit more with them than he did with Co. Damien tilts his head and winces, managing to get the lump past his collarbone.

“Their hair givin’ ya problems?” Yarrop asks and raises his eyebrow.

Damien nods. He thumps his chest a couple times, and after a second his shoulders drop and relax. His hand rests on his stomach again.

“My turn?” Yarrop asks. This whole thing is reminding him of a couple parties the two of them went to in highschool.

Damien’s staring off into space. He has a pleased smile on his face, and is poking a bit at his stomach.

“Dumbass.”

Damien snaps back to reality, looking at Yarrop.

“My turn?” Yarrop prompts again.

Damien nods enthusiastically.

“Ya know, ya don’t have to bother with the teeth guards now,” Yarrop says.

Damien shrugs, but doesn’t make a move to take them off. Which is about what Yarrop expected - teeth guards were part of the deal, so he’ll stick to it. Even if it’s not necessary at this point.

Whatever. Yarrop offers his hand like the other two. And, just like the other two, Damien pulls his hand to bite his wrist. The teeth guards feel weird. It’s like grandma forgot her dentures. Yarrop snickers. He just barely manages to catch Damien’s glare before he has to close his eyes from the nausea of shrinking so fast.

When Yarrop can feel Damien’s lips covering most of his arm, he opens his eyes to grab ahold of Damien’s top teeth guards. When Damien throws his head back this time, Yarrop guarantees that he’s going down feet first before he lets go. He doesn’t feel much like knocking heads when he gets down.

Yarrop gets pulled in to his hips on the first swallow, leaving the uvula directly in his face. He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t. He really really really shouldn’t. He punches the uvula.

Damien coughs and Yarrop roughly knocks into Damien’s teeth guards. There’s some loud annoyed grumbling sounds, and the tongue underneath him roughly flips him over. Time for attempt two. It goes quicker this time, not giving him a second to consider punching it again. Oh well.

Annnd here’s the rough part again. He grits his teeth at the pain as the pressure partially straightens his spine. Fortunately, it doesn’t last too long. His feet meet resistance as they enter the stomach, and Yarrop sends a swift kick as a warning to clear the way.

“O- Hey!” he hears from Ribbonsy.

They move to the side enough that Yarrop can drop down.

Damien’s stomach is shaped weird. It’s almost like it was originally going to separate out into two stomachs, like you’d see in someone with giant genes. But it didn’t quite make it, so instead there’s a top shelf and a bigger more open bottom shelf area. And the top shelf is Yarrop’s. Yarrop decided that the moment he realized he’d have to share the space with the others. The top shelf is always Yarrop’s.

Yarrop brandishes a knife and points off the top shelf, the soft red glow of Damien’s guts making it glint dramatically. “Down.”

“Okay! Okay! Got it!” Ribbonsy says, dropping off the top shelf to join Co on the bottom shelf.

“Yarrop, do you know why there are rocks in here?” Co asks, bewildered.

“Gastroliths. Just shove ‘em in the intestines, unless ya want them knocking into your skull.” Yarrop explains bluntly, putting his knife away and laying back. The curve of his spine fit the curve of the stomach wall quite nicely.

There’s some clicking down below, presumably one of them shoving the rocks on. Yarrop can feel as Damien presses on the wall behind his spine, and the stomach itself kneads at them. A deep rumbling sound starts.

“Eh?”

Yarrop can’t tell whether the sound of confusion came from Co or Ribbonsy. Whatever. “Purring or somethin’. The glutton,” Yarrop starts, hitting the wall, “-is really enjoyin’ this.”

“What are gastroliths?” Co asks.

Yarrop is done with answering stuff. They’ve got google for this shit. His throat hurts and he’s already talked too much anyway.

“Gastroliths are liths - stones - that are in the gastrointestinal tract. Several species use them to aid in digestion, particularly if they don’t have the teeth to grind food properly. With how weird Damien’s teeth are, I’m guessing that’s the whole point of them being here,” Ribbonsy answers.

“Huh. Neat,” Co says, and then tries - and fails - at mimicking the sound that Damien’s making. Ribbonsy laughs. Yarrop wishes they’d shut up.

Unfortunately, they do not shut up and they keep chatting. However, Yarrop does what’s called a pro gamer move and ignores them. Instead, he sinks further into the stomach folds and closes his eyes. He focuses on the other familiar sounds, using it to help release tension in his shoulders. There goes way too much of his limited social battery way too fast. They’re lucky that today is a low pain day, otherwise Yarrop would have a much shorter fuse.

After a few moments, Yarrop comes to a realization and sighs heavily. It seems that Damien isn’t moving yet. Which is what Yarrop was afraid of. He pulls out his phone. Yeah alright, there’s still enough time for Damien to catch the bus.

[dumbass, bus.] send.

Yarrop can hear Damien’s muffled phone notification, and feel the muscles briefly clench around them as Damien startles.

Annnd in 3… 2… 1…

“Ah ohaoh,” Damien’s voice mumbles above them. If Yarrop were to guess, he’s pretty sure that was meant to be ‘aw, potatoes’.

The place rocks, presumably Damien standing up to get going. Yarrop braces himself to avoid getting knocked off his shelf. As soon as he gets a chance, Yarrop quickly types out another message while Damien makes sounds of frustration.

[knok me off my shelf an i stab you]

“Ahah! I’m freeeeeee,” Damien says, talking over the phone notification sound. “Spuddin’ hate these stu’id things,” he mutters. Well there go the teeth guards, at least for now.

After a few moments, thick strands of saliva drip in. Yarrop grabs it and drops it over the edge of his shelf, directly onto Ribbonsy’s head.

“Hey!” Ribbonsy protests, and Yarrop snickers.

“Don’t make me come up there and start a game of king of the mountain for your spot,” Co warns. “I’ll knock you off your perch.”

Yarrop peers down at Co and raises an eyebrow. Co has been challenging Yarrop more often since the knife fight in the backyard, which is fun. “Maybe later,” Yarrop says. Probably once he properly settles in and starts getting bored and unbearably irritated by their constant talking. Right now he’s satisfied by just being the occasional menace. And also he doesn’t want to put his perch at risk.

The organ clenches and tilts, the wall behind him suddenly becoming a floor. As Yarrop slides, Co peeks around the floor-become-wall in an almost comical fashion, raising an eyebrow right back. Yarrop makes shoo-ing motions. He’s going back to trying to ignore the fact there’s other people here right now.

As the floor of his top shelf goes back to being a floor, there’s the familiar sound of Damien’s stomping pattern as he finishes getting his shoes on. Yarrop slides back into place and starts getting comfortable again. He nestles back into the stomach folds and braces himself so it’s harder to get knocked off.

“Phone, walle’, keys, string thing… anythin’ I’m missin’?” Damien asks. Yarrop can feel Damien pressing on the wall behind him again.

“The ticket?” Co pipes in.

[ticket] Yarrop texts Damien. Hopefully he’ll notice the previous text at the same time.

“Ticke’, ticke’, ticke’...” Damien says, taking his hand away. “And ya can’t stab me if ya get knocked off while I’m on the bus. I do not con’rol the bus. And ahhhhhh okay yea the ticke’s in my wallet.”

“You better not be stabbing anyone while we’re in here, Yarrop. I’d rather not sit in a puddle of blood, thank you very much,” Co says pointedly.

Yarrop flicks out a knife, showing it over the edge of his shelf. “I make no promises,” he says, putting the knife away just as quick.

“I’m temporarily designating this a no stab zone," Co declares.

Yarrop rolls his eyes.

“Temporarily?” Ribbonsy questions.

“I mean. Whatever they do when we’re not here is not our business.” Co answers.

That’s where Yarrop starts ignoring them again. There’s a slight jostling, paired with the sound of the door closing and fast footsteps.

His brain is torn. Usually, the sound of Damien’s inner workings means that it’s a great time to take a nap. However, the presence of other people means that no matter what, he won’t be able to fall asleep. So he’s stuck with feelings of exhaustion, but too awake to do anything about it. It’s annoying.

When was the last time he had to share stomach space? It wasssss… oh. Yeah. That. The heartbeat pulsing behind his back is speeding up, and the lining starts to redden as Damien jogs.

Last time he was here with other people, Yarrop was high as a kite. It was with a couple ‘friends’, trying and failing to hotbox it. In their drug haze, they forgot that fire didn’t react with shrunken things. No fire means no smoke, no smoke means no hotboxing. It was probably for the better - they were already pretty fucked up.

Yarrop wonders how they’re doing. He wonders if the parasite is still alive. He hopes they’re doing shitty. It would be what they deserve. Not that Yarrop’s any better, really. They just did to him what he’d already done to others a few times by that point - ghosting and moving on as soon as he stopped dealing.

Frustration and bitterness bubbles under his skin, his arms burning with the need to punch something.

Yarrop’s thoughts are interrupted by a more intense wave of peristalsis, flattening him against the ceiling. He pushes back against it and sighs. At least Damien’s still around. As the muscles relax again, Yarrop gives it a pat.

He idly muses about how many times Damien’s stopped a self destructive spiral, either on purpose or accidentally. How many times he’s stopped suicide attempts.

That’s not a good train of thought to go down either. These half-awake exhausted moods are the worst. Frustration bubbles up again, this time mostly with himself.

Fuck it. Yarrop sits up, scooping a handful of… saliva? Stomach acid? Something. He scoops a big handful of it and drops it off the ledge onto Co’s face this time.

“Hey!” Co splutters. “That’s it, I’m coming up! I’ve got a rock and I know how to use it! Ribbonsy, sweet, will you aid my quest for domination and conquest?”

“Of course, hun.”

#Breathe life #my writing #nonsexual vore #Co #Yarrop #Ribbonsy #Damien

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davy-zeppeli · 2 months

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So I don't own a diary so I'm writing my thoughts here because it's my blog, fuck you.

The past month has been absolutely hellish. I've changed teams at work, had immense pressure put on me following this due to other managers in my area feeling the need to hound and scrutinise my team's work, and then I broke up with my partner, essentially throwing away any and all financial and home security I had in my future.

I separated with my partner for my own independence and freedom, to put it bluntly. 4 years together showed me we were perfect for eachother - same music taste, sams interests, many great and fun adventures together - but after 4 years, little things built up. Not being able to take the bus without scrutiny. Not being able to buy things I want in the shop due to it 'wasting money'. Stopping drinking because he didn't like it. Not being able to stay over at a friend's house without giving him dates and times I'd be back, as well as who I'm staying with and where. One of our last discussions was him asking me if I still loved him, which I did and do - but he also asked me if I'd been seeing other people. I didn't know it at the time, but it was a level of insecurity and fear expressed by him that was the primary indicator that something wasn't right.

About a week or so later, I suggested I move out and we try being friends.

This was not easy. Jesus Christ, it was hard. He took it well, and I can say now after a few more weeks we've both made peace with it. We're still best friends. He always will be! But it feels good now knowing that we're classifying our relationship as what it always was - best friends who live together. I've been told on numerous occasions that we really did just seem like roommates who happen to be together, and it only took until now to see it. But, despite it all, I feel a lot happier following my decision.

I have a flat pretty much secured for May - he has a new flat mate lined up for after I leave. I have my freedom, and now it's a case of getting used to it.

Then comes my other crisis: Daniel.

So, I really hope he doesn't ever see this. He won't.

I've worked with Dan for over a year now - occasionally saying hello in the office after bonding at a work's party. Separate teams, never had much reason to interact past that. Until I moved teams - onto his team.

When I say this man has been a crucial anchor for me, I mean in wholeheartedly and with such sincerity that I can't put it into words in a way that would do it justice. He was the one who made me realise, yeah, my situation isn't great at the moment, is it? Yeah, I enjoy going out, don't I? Yeah, the anti-depressants aren't nuking my libido, are they? It's something else. He's one of the most chill, sarcastic, and real people I've met in a long time - and he's got his own trauma to show for it. We've made the joke we're similar - both in therapy, both play instruments, both love music, etc. But as such, we both know how to read eachother too well. And boy, he read me like a book.

After going to his open mic (with his family, might I add. I thought more people would be going, but no - it was me and his family) and one gig with him, I'd realised I like him. A lot. A painful amount, actually. Yes, getting over my failed relationship was definitely contributing to it, but I can say now as well, with the beauty of hindsight, I do still like him. If he asked, I would. If he does ask, I will. He's very important to me. I like him very much.

It then became evident he liked me back.

I won't sugar coat it - we've slept together. At this point in time, about 6 or 7 times. That's more than I did with my partner in 4 years. I should feel like dirt for my quick 'turnaround' but I just can't bring myself to care about it. I thought I was broken, man, and that the anti-depressants had fucked me. Evidently not. He's told me after several heart-to-hearts that he cares about me a lot and trusts me. And I've echoed the same sentiment to him in return. I've stayed at his flat, we commute to work, I've met his family for christ's sake. You'd expect this to lead to us being together.

It has not lead to us being together.

To put it bluntly - he's not looking for a relationship right now. He has his own baggage he's trying to handle from a freshly broken relationship and moving house, so I am understanding. Does it make it hurt any less? Nope. When he told me this, aware I felt different, he put a boundary in place to protect me. No intimacy, just friends. I knew it was for the best, I trusted him and respected his needs. We moved on.

Now, the week following that decision? Torture. I wanted to be near him all the time, but had to make sure I respected him and his limits. It was for the best, in the end, because he was right - I was infatuated with him given my circumstances. So I can say now I'm not as head over heels for him as I was. He said it best himself: "I treat you with a little bit of respect and decency and you think I'm Jesus. You're just not used to having more than one of your needs met at once". Does that mean I don't like him any more in that way?

Absolutely not - but I know that it's something he doesn't want, so I'll put it on the back burner indefinitely. I love him too much as a friend to risk losing him over something like this.

Then comes last night.

The boundary was in place. We went out following a particularly stressful work day. We drank, we listened to live music, we had fun! Near the end of the night, he asked me how I felt towards him. Unprompted, almost. So I answered honestly:

I like him. Can't deny I like him. But I'm able to see that it's not what he wants, and I'm fine with that. I respect his boundaries. It doesn't mean I'm not attracted to him. His reaponse?

He nods. He asks me how I'm getting home. I say I haven't planned it. He asks if I want to go back to his. I agree. Once most people have left the bar and we're two of the few people left, he kisses me. Good fucking god it was like being hit with a bat. I'd missed it. I missed him. Needless to say, we went home, played some Guitar Hero, and then slept together. Our situation is friends with benefits and I'm happy with that.

Now, why am I typing all of this out? Like I said, I have no diary. I haven't been able to articulate these thoughts for a month in a way that would cause significantly reduced collateral damage. My therapy has been cancelled the past two times. I needed somewhere to speak.

If for some reason someone has read all of this - thanks? Feel free to ask questions. I don't mind. It might help me figure stuff out.

Until the next time, adios.

#me #ramblings #long post #read more

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