#ugggggh I should not go
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
The problem is I can only fend off so many bad ideas at once and exacerbating a physical injury is actually much lower on my “unbearable” scale than fucking up my reading experience by reading a series out of order
#this is about current dilemmas#dilemma 1: I finished network effect and have systems collapse but don’t have fugitive telemetry#and so am desperately tempted to read systems collapse but don’t want to miss things by skipping FT until I can acquire it#dilemma 2: my ankle is still Big Bad but I’m losing my shit not being able to exercise and couldn’t get in to be seen today so#am probably going to class tonight even tho I know full well it’s a bad idea#I tried pointing that foot and started laughing bc of how pathetic it is rn#also the clicking in the back is back and the swelling in my ankle seems to have increased#ugggggh I should not go#🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪#I’m still getting no work done rip#personal
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
had to move my tattoo appointment bc I'm sick :(
#noopa rambles#I was supposed to get it done tomorrow but I'm still a bit stuffy#started to get sick last monday and then lost my voice on friday when it got worse#it's better now than it was yesterday but no way I'm good enough to get it done by tomorrow ://#fucking Hate#also love how the bus company just sent me a reminder of 'heyyy your trip is happening tomorrow!'#like. thank you bus company; love this reminder of Not being able to go#and also wasting like 30e on bus tickets#bc I can't cancel or reschedule the damn tickets#if you pay extra they'll give you a chance to cancel 48h before the trip#but I didn't take it bc I wouldn't have called it off that early anyways#ugggggh#I did manage to rebook it for the 23rd and I should be good by then#and still get it done right by christmas so now all the relatives can be all scandalized abt it#I don't actually think my relatives will be super scandalized by the tattoo#but it'd be funny if they did get scandalized
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
.
#ugggggh how do i even start writing this#he's asleep rn of course. maybe he'll be awake before i have to go to bed myself#maybe i should just bullet point it and go from there i mean its not a fucking essay
5 notes
·
View notes
Note
Can you write a Billy Kid x Reader where Billy accidentally catches a computer virus that causes him to simulate the symptoms of the common cold and Reader has to be his caretaker?
𓍊𓋼~Under the webther~𓋼𓍊
Type: Oneshot
Description: Hiiiii, you're my first request!! Welcome, sorry this took a few days, but I hope you like it!!
Rating: fluff
Reader: GN
Includes: Billy
Billy:
Billy groaned, rolling over in his bed and feeling like he was warm all over. Normally temperatures didn't bother him, but this virus had him feeling all kinds of funky...even his little robotic toes felt sore and they were pure metal like the rest of him!
To make matters even worse...he'd watched so much starlight knight that even he was starting to need a break from it, but Nicole and you had both told him to stay in bed and wait for the virus to be cleaned from his servers...
"Ugggggh, my head feels heavy...and I've been here for days....how long is this debug gonna take.."
"Someone sounds like they are getting stir crazy. Hope you don't mind, I let myself in." You walked in with a soft smile, a bag of things for him in your hand and a sweet caring aura following after you. It instantly made him perk up.
"You're here! Finally some company!! You wanna watch Straight knights together?! Or we could practice some self defense maneuvers, or- Ow!" He cupped his head in his hands, feeling another wave of numbers and random gibberish clogging up his functions.
"Woah you okay? Don't rush yourself, I plan on staying the rest of the day, so we can watch some of your show and I can check how far along the virus cleaning has gotten, though I don't think there will be time for any defense maneuvers until you feel better." You helped him lay down and put a cooling back on his forehead, holding his hand as you checked the computer for any news on the debug.
He really didn't like being stuck inside all day and it was even worse they he couldn't do anything but lay around and glitch, but...he was enjoying you being around. He couldn't deny it, he loved being babied by you, it made the whole situation bearable. "So how's it going doc? Am I gonna live? Should I start making my will?"
"Oh hush, you're almost clear of the virus. It should be all but gone by tomorrow."
"WOHOOO!! Oof ow!" He shut one of his eyes like he was wincing in pain, though in reality he hadn't actually felt anything this time..., he just wanted to get a little more attention before he was all better. Maybe even his favourite kind of medicine...
"What was that? Are you okay??"
"I don't know, I might not make it...without a kiss on the cheek from a beautiful human, who cares so much about their robot friend they'd do anything to make his head not hurt..." He threw his arm over his head dramatically acting like he was dying in a movie and he needed the hero to rescue him.
You rolled your eyes, chuckling at his hysterics...but what could it hurt. You indulged him and leaned in to place a kiss on his cheek, curing him just a little bit more.
My titles are genius
192 notes
·
View notes
Text
Soon to be Wedded | Jeremy King x Reader
Short-ish fic inspired by me wishing Jeremy could’ve brought JB as his date at Cove and MC’s wedding (I know it probably would’ve been too difficult, but still)
SPOILER WARNING FOR THE WEDDING DLC!!!
“Oooh, I can’t believe we’re really here. Look at this place!” You squeal in awe, admiring the wedding decorations combined with redwood trees. Jeremy follows closely behind you, his shoulder scrunched in show of his discomfort. “Mm, it’s nice…I guess.” He sighs, he glares at you when you nudge him with your elbow. “Ha! Wow, you’re actually giving out a compliment? Huh, you must like these guys a lot. I can’t wait to meet ‘em.” You tease.
Jeremy rolls his eyes and instinctively shoos your arm away from him with a groan. “…Why did I bring you along again?” He sighs “Becaaaaause, you’d be unable to handle a social setting as big as a wedding without me.” You state. “More like you were acting like us being apart for a weekend was the end of the world.” Jeremy scoffs, one side of his mouth turning upward into a smirk. You let out a soft hum in response, “But it is the end of the world!” You gasp.
“No it isn’t.” Jeremy says bluntly “It is! How can I be happy without my precious Jerebear somewhere nearby? You are my world!” You whine truthfully. Jeremy cringes, his pale cheeks burning red. “…Gross.” He groans, you only grin at his reaction as you approach the wedding planner. “Ah! You must be Jeremy. And is this your plus one?” Baxter asks with a polite smile, taking in the two of you.
“Yep.” Jeremy says dryly “I’m his girlfriend.” You add confidently. “You didn’t need to tell him that.” Jeremy sighs, staring at the ground. “After how hard I worked to keep this relationship going? I should make us wear T-shirts. Or, who knows, this wedding might be the push I need to get the ball rolling for our future wedding.” You snort, Jeremy just glares at you in annoyance. Baxter watches the two of you, his smile unwavering. “Well, if you ever need a wedding planner I’m available.” He tell you, “Please. Don’t encourage her,” Jeremy sighs, shifting uncomfortably with a blush “Can we take our seats now?” “Yes, of course. You two are seating over there, second row.” Baxter says, not wanting to make Jeremy more uncomfortable.
“Great. Come on.” Jeremy says “Go on, without me. I need to get Mr. Wedding Planner’s number-” Jeremy grabs you by the hand and drag you away from Baxter without another word. He knows you’ll put up less of a fight because him touching—let alone holding your hand is super rare.
……
“—Cove…thank you for always being there. I want to thank you for…everything.”
Jeremy watches the scene with a blank expression, only reacting when he hears a sniff beside him. He looks at you knowingly, “…Seriously? You don’t even know these people.” He sighs with a quiet voice as he turns his attention to you “I know. But they just seem so pure. It’s adorable.” You whisper back, tears pricking your eyes. Jeremy stares at you with a dumbfounded frown, but eventually force himself to return his gaze to the actual focus of the wedding.
…
Jeremy sips his drink, quietly listening to you ramble on about how nice the wedding was and how groovy it is to have the reception in an aquarium of all places. “I hope you’re taking notes, Jerebear. I’m hoping we have our wedding at the archery range.” You state, Jeremy frowns at the thought, “That’s awful…” He groans “You’re not gonna ask why?” You huff.
“I don’t need to know the reason. I already know it’s gonna be stupid, cheesy, and pointless…” Jeremy grumbles, but that doesn’t stop you from telling him anyway, “It’s because the archery range was where you first said you lov-” “Ugggggh.” Jeremy groans, dropping his head into his arm. “I should’ve left you at home…” He sighs, “Love you too, Jerebear~” You snicker, making the poor boy’s eyes widen even more than before. He sighs with a blush spreading all over his face.
Out the corner of his eye, he sees Cove and MC approaching. Jeremy sits up with an exaggerated sigh, eyeing the couple awkwardly, secretly hoping they didn’t hear any of this conversation. The pair greet the two of you with matching smiles of admiration and curiosity. Jeremy awkwardly stands to be closer to the couple and further from your flirting. Cove speaks first, “You came!” He says happily, his blue eyes lighting up. Jeremy’s tired pout remains, “Happy wedding, you insane people. Why did you invite me to this?” He asks.
You watch in amusement as MC smiles kindly, “Because we wanted you here. Thank you for coming. And thank you for actually bringing a plus one. We were hoping to either meet your girlfriend or Pran.” They chuckle. Jeremy shifts uncomfortably before MC pulls Jeremy into a hug. His shoulders tense and his eyes are wider than ever, “Let me go.” He hisses out, his cheeks becoming an intense red. MC smiles apologetically, “I’m sorry. Are you ok?” They asks. Once he calms down, Jeremy only sulks more, “Whateveeeer…” He sighs. Cove smiles, the two of you make eye contact. Suddenly his familiar smile drops into one of curiosity and amazement “O-oh! You’re Jeremy’s girlfriend, right?” He asks. “That’s right. I’m Jeremy’s other half,” You say with a toothy grin that Jeremy knows far too well “Glad to know he talks about me.”
“Yep, still forcing him to be happy?” MC asks jokingly, “Pfft! Yeah, it’s my favorite past time.” You laugh. Jeremy rolls his eyes, opting to pay attention to anything other than you and MC’s conversation. Cove turns to him joyfully, “Thanks so much for coming. It wouldn’t have been the same without you.” He states. Jeremy scoffs, “True. It would’ve been better.” “Well, it’s nice of you to want to come and share the suffering.” Cove chuckles, earning a smirk from Jeremy.
“Misery loves company.” He teases dryly, Jeremy raises an eyebrow at the sight of MC giving you a number. He sighs knowingly and shakes his head. Jeremy gazes over the wedding once again, taking in the reception. Cove soon joins you and MC in the rambling about your lives and relationships. “I guess this is one of the better functions I’ve been too.” Jeremy sighs. Despite his quiet voice, he catches everyone’s attention. “Better than our prom?” You ask, Jeremy rolls his eyes “Anything is better than that.” He smirks. “Scum. Heartless scum.” You huff.
Meanwhile, MC and Cove look at Jeremy in shock, “You’re saying something nice about our wedding?!” Cove squeaks out in surprise, the noise almost makes you laugh. “It’s not earth shattering.” Jeremy says “Pfft! Yeah, right. If I look outside, will pigs be flying.” You joke, Jeremy shoots an annoyed look your way. “I appreciate that, Jeremy.” MC says sweetly, Jeremy looks away in discomfort. A sharp gasp is heard a distance away.
“You guys are here too?! That’s so cool!”
You look over your shoulder to spot Shiloh approaching, Jeremy does the same—he frowns in pure disgust. “Shiloh? What the hell are you doing here?” You ask once he’s close enough, “Ah, right. Jeremy wouldn’t have told you. The three of us are childhood friends.” Shiloh says happily, he gestures to Cove and MC. “Huh, small world.” You say, Jeremy glares silently at Shiloh.
Shiloh stands in between you and Jeremy, “Hi.” He greets, now that he’s fully apart of the mini reunion, “Hello hello, Shiloh. Glad to see you’re still a suck up. How that’s working how for you now?” You hum. Jeremy responds before Shiloh does, “Couldn’t this have waited until that terrible ‘group reunion’ I’m certain we’re gonna have to go in six years or whatever?” Jeremy sighs. “What?!” You and Shiloh share disapproving shrieks, MC and Cove watch the scene with matching smiles.
“Come one! Once group mates, always group mates.” You whine “She’s right.” Shiloh unsurprisingly agrees with you, “We shouldn’t hold off for that. If there’s a chance to hang out, we’ve gotta take it!” He urges. Jeremy groans, “Of course that’s your perspective on things. Life is an endless series of disappointments.” He sighs through grit teeth. Cove smile drops into a look of concern, you wrap an arm around Jeremy’s shoulder.
“Don’t worry about Jerebear. He’s always like this. This is your wedding, focus on that happiness and ignore Mr. Grumpy.” You tell Cove confidently. Shiloh nods, “Yeah! And at least there’s free cake. That’ll be something, right?” He adds. Jeremy’s annoyance turns into shock, the two of you stare at Shiloh in surprise. He only chuckles and turns to Cove and MC, “Jeremy has a soft spot for baked goods. He’s probably excited about it.” He tells them. “Really?! I feel the same way!” Cove says happily.
You grin and raise a confused eyebrow, “How’d you figure that out?” You ask curiously. But again, Jeremy doesn’t give him a chance to answer, “Why do you remember that? We haven’t spoken in years. Shouldn’t you focus your efforts on remembering dumb things about her?” He groans gesturing to you. Shiloh giggles, “I’d never forget anything about either of you, Jeremy.” He states. Jeremy cringes and you laugh, “Yep. You’re definitely still Shiloh.” You say “Of course! Who else would I be?” Shiloh asks with a bright smile.
“Someone better maybe? Or at least someone less grating about how unpleasant they are.” Jeremy sighs, Shiloh’s chipper mood doesn’t fade, “Nope. I’m just me. The three of us should catch up! Let’s get drinks.” He says. Jeremy finally realizes your arm’s still around him and he shrugs you off. You pout, “That sounds like a terrible idea.” Jeremy sighs, he grabs your hand and nods goodbye to Cove and MC before he pulls you to the bar with Shiloh trailing eagerly behind. “Bye! Congratulations!” Shiloh shouts to the couple. The couple shouts goodbyes back.
…
You rest your head on your palm, watching Baxter announce the bouquet toss. “Oooh, Jeremy! You should join.” You giggle, elbowing him gently. Jeremy nudges you away from him “Uh, why would I do something as pointless as that?” He asks. “Because it’s fuuuuun! And you gotta get that bouquet! Fight for our future wedding!” You squeal. Jeremy cringes, “That’s a terrible reason…” He groans “Besides, it’s not even guaranteed I’ll catch it.”
You shake Jeremy and whine, “Just try! I’m just gonna keep bugging you until you do!” Jeremy glares at you, but ends up standing up. He stands on the outskirts of the already forming group, Jeremy ignores your cheers of support and begrudgingly holds his arms out. “Excellent. The bouquet toss begins—now!” Baxter announces. Everyone watches MC closely. MC fires a quick trick shot towards the crowd, many scramble to try to catch the bouquet of poppies, but the only person who remained still was the one to catch them.
Jeremy frowns miserably when the bouquet perfectly lands in his arms. He does his best to keep the bouquet as far as he can from his body. Jeremy looks over his shoulder to lock eyes with you, a wide grin is on your face. “Don’t you even start.” He says in disgust, you blow him a kiss and Jeremy cringes more..
“Stunning work from our winner: Jeremy!” Baxter chuckles into a mic. “Congratulations on your future wedding!” MC giggles, Jeremy glares at them while you enthusiastically shout back a “Thanks!” The other guest laugh and let out chuckles of their own. Jeremy miserably huffs and returns to his seat. “Pfft! I can’t wait to tell your parents the good news.” You tease, Jeremy rolls his eyes “I’m sure they won’t be happy to hear that I dumped you at someone else’s wedding.” He scoffs. You stick your tongue out at him and giggle.
…
Jeremy silently places the bouquet on the hotel’s dresser. He glances at you as you work to blow up the air mattress, it was the only way Jeremy was going to sleep in a hotel and he wasn’t going to change his mind. At least you were able to convince him to spring for a king size air mattress the two of you could share.
“…I’m glad I got to meet your other friends, Jerebear. It makes me happy to know there are other people who know how much of a treasure you are.” You coo, “Stop hanging out with my mom.” Jeremy sighs. “Never. She’s basically my future mother in law.” You snicker, you gently poke the air mattress, “It’s done.” You announce. You stretch your arms, “Who gets the shower first?” You ask, there’s only a brief moment of silence before you quickly add “Ooh, we should take one tog-” “No!” Jeremy said firmly.
“Come on! It’s not like it’d be the first time.” You huff, Jeremy removes his shoes and leaves them by his suit case. “It’s hard enough I have to use a dirty hotel shower. Having you join would definitely kill me.” He sighs, pulling out the blankets he brought, “I’m sure the showering together wouldn’t be the only hard part.” You joke, wiggling your eyebrows, Jeremy throws the blanket over your head. “You’re just mad I’m funny!” You laugh, Jeremy walks to the bathroom with a disgusted look. He shuts the door, the last thing he hears is your growing laughter.
“Together for life, Jerebear! In sickness in health! Ooh, that reminds me. I gotta text Pran the great news~”
#xoxo droplets#jeremy king#our life beginnings and always#cove and mc mentioned#shiloh fields#gb patch games and characters literally have me in a chokehold#gb patch games#I was literally replaying the wedding dlc and got Shy Field#I forgot that boy had like 4 potential personalities 😭#I normally only get the nice Shiloh with a ponytail#jeremy king x reader#reader is female#reader is jb
75 notes
·
View notes
Note
Fanfic on how Veneer Got his pet goldfish, and when the fish died??
:D❤️
Hi pookie! You got it! So Veneer had always wanted a pet. Since a kid he was fascinated by animals. In this particular story, he lives in Mount Rageous. Now if you come to think of it, it’s a very superficial and synthetic culture. Not a lot of nature going on. You’re lucky enough to have some sort of pet. Veneer has always wanted one, but has kind of an issue to where having one is hard:
Sparkles
“So having a dog or cat is not an option?” Vivian asked, the twins mother.
“Unfortunately, not. He has enough breathing problems already. The fur of the animal will only aggravate him more.”
She turned to her son. Veneer was sitting on the hospital bed playing tic-tac-toe with Velvet, a tube connected to his nose. He had another breathing attack. It was his sister that found him…lying on his bedroom floor, nearly blue. The doctor said if she was a minute too late, it would have been fatal.
“He….he gets lonely. Veneer can’t do much with the other kids at school. No one is patient enough to just sit with him, except his sister. He…” His mother began to break down in tears, “Doctor he doesn’t have any friends. As mother that just…that just hurts that he is over looked just because of his condition. While his sister can go to school some days, he stays home, he’s not invited to any parties, no one comes to his. What do I do?” She sobbed.
The doctor placed a hand on Vivians shoulder. She sighed and wrote on a piece of paper handing it to the twins mother, “They may not be a cat or a dog, but these types of pets should suffice for your son.” She smiled tenderly.
“Thank you.” She whispered to the doctor. Vivian composed herself before turning to her twins, “Alright guys! Time to go home.”
Veneer had to spend the next two days home from school…That Friday evening, Velvet had gotten an invitation to a birthday party from one of the girls in their class.
“Did she send one for me too?” Veneer asked sitting up on his bed, the tube still connected to his nose and hand, pushing fluids through his body.
“…No…No she didn’t. I asked her but…” Velvet looked away.
“But what?” He asked.
“She said you weren’t invited because she didn’t want you getting people sick.”
“Oh….” A moment of silence passed between the twins. Velvet looked at her brother, she saw the tears forming in his eyes. He tried fighting it, but he failed, one by one they fell down his cheek and on to his covers.
“Forget her. I’m not going to her stupid party anyway. She likes unicorns.” Velvet made a disgusted face.
“Vels…You like unicorns too.” He gave her a serious look.
“Yeah, but I like the cool unicorns.”
“There are no cool unicorns! Now dragons are cool!” Veneer exclaimed, a smile coming across his face. That’s what Velvet wanted to see. Did she want to go to the party? Yes, but not when it would hurt her brothers feelings. He NEVER got invited anywhere…and she hated it…..More silence.
“Vels, you need to go.” She looked at him quizzically, “You need to have friends. Don’t be alone because of me. Eventually I’ll make friends…for now I have you and mom, and dad! It’s okay Vels. Go…for me…please.” He pouted his lip and widened his eyes.
“No…no! Don’t do that!” But that made him pout his lip even more, “Ugggggh. Fine! But I’m definitely spitting into her cake before she eats it!”
That evening Veneer spent his day alone in his room. He read comic books, drew, watched TV, played video games. When his parents came up to see him, he was writing something…He was writing how he wanted a friend, it didn’t matter who or what, big or small, he just wanted a friend.
“What you writing about kiddo?” His father sat at the foot of his bed.
“Nothing!” Veneer held his journal near his chest, hiding it from the view of his father.
“Okay, okay. I get it. Big boy now has secrets.”
“I- no they’re not secrets.” Veneer looked away. His mother came in, holding something behind her back. Veneer grew curious, looking back and forth between his mother and father.
“Sweetie, now, you know why you can’t have a dog correct?” His mother asked him. Veneer nodded. “Well, the doctor said just because you can’t have a dog, doesn’t mean you can’t a little companion.” She brought forward what she was hiding behind her back. Encased in a pretty little bowl was a beautiful little goldfish…except, he wasn’t entirely gold. As he swam and hit the lights, his scales reflected red, gold, and yellow hues, shining and shimmering. He was beautiful.
“Whoa.” Veneer grasped the bowel gently in his hands, squishing his face on it. “Hi!” The small little fish took notice of Veneer and stared at him curiously, nearing him. “He’s so pretty!”
“He’s going to need a name.” His father stated. Veneer looked at the goldfish. He saw how his scales sparkled in the light…That’s it!
“Sparkles. I am going to call him Sparkles!”
“Welcome to the family Sparkles.”
Vivian saw a complete change in Veneer in the next couple of weeks. He seemed happier. He took his dedication to caring for Sparkles seriously. Veneer researched the best foods to give him to live a good life, he saved up his allowance money to buy the fish a bigger tank, toys, rocks he could hide in. His parents would walk in on him talking to the goldfish…what was beautiful, was that the fish recognized him, his voice. When Veneer was around, the tiny fish would swim out of hiding and swim around next to him. If Velvet or anyone else entered the room, Sparkles would go back into hiding.
The year went by, Veneer bought him a smaller bowel to take the fish with them to small outings or have him around during his birthday and holidays. Veneer would try to talk about his pet goldfish at school, but no one seemed to care. Lame, they would tell him.
“No he’s not! He’s really cool. He does tricks!” Veneer exclaimed.
“Fish are stupid, they can’t do tricks!” The kids would tell him.
He wanted to show them, he wanted to show them that goldfish were not stupid, that they were amazing. One day, he had planned to take Sparkles to show and tell. “We’ll show them Sparkles. They tend to over look little things like us just because we’re different.” He leaned his face close to the tank. Sparkles swam near Veneer in circles, booping his little face near Veneers. “Get ready for a show tomorrow buddy!”
The next morning Veneer woke early to get Sparkles ready in his travel bowel. He tapped the glass gently, “Sparkles. Come one out. I want to give you food before we leave.”…..Nothing. “Sparkles.” Veneer maneuvered around the tank to see if he could find the fish, but he couldn’t see him. Normally Sparkles would come out at the sound of his voice and that tapping of the glass. He kept looking and looking…
“Sparkles! There you are!” Veneer saw a tiny fin peeping out of the little rock he had gotten him. “Sparkles.” Veneer called out again…but he saw the fish wasn’t moving…he was just floating there. “Sparkles?” Again, no movement. “Mom! Dad!”
His parents came barging in fear that their son was hurt or having an episode, Velvet trailing close behind. Veneer was in tears standing by the tank.
“Something is wrong with Sparkles.” He cried. Their father moved close, he saw the small fish turned on its side..he was still, very still. “Daddy what’s wrong? Do we have to take him to the doctors?”
“No son…I…He…” He looked at his wife unsure how or what to say. Veneer glanced his at his mother.
“Mommy?”
She sighed. Walking up to her son, she knelt down to get at eye level with him, “Sweetie, I think Sparkles may have gone to heaven.”
“What?” Veneer walked over to the tank. He tapped it and called out the goldfishes name again. “But…but he was fine last night! He ate and was next to me the entire time! How..What happened? Was he sick like me?” Veneer gasped and began to cry uncontrollably, “Mommy did I give Sparkles my sickness! Mommy, Daddy is he dead because of me!” Veneer hugged the little bowel close to his chest, his forever empty little bowel.
“Oh, no, no, no! No that is not what happened.” She hugged Veneer tightly. “Sweetie, all our time here is limited, including goldfish. We don’t know how old he really was. What matters is that you made whatever time he had with you happy. You gave him a life worth remembering. That’s what you have to do now, remember the good times you had with him.”
Velvet couldn’t help but wipe some tears away. It hurt her to see her brother so distraught, especially after a stupid goldfish, but that little fish made him happier than he has ever been….
That day he didn’t go to school. He stayed home crying over Sparkles. Veneer gained enough strength to go outside and pick out a stone. He pained a small goldfish on it and wrote the name “Sparkles”. His father called in from to stay with him. He helped burry the small goldfish, placing the rock on top of the small burial sight.
“Want to go to the store tomorrow and buy another?” His father asked. Veneer shook his head. Yes, there was other goldfish, but there would never be another goldfish like Sparkles. Loosing something so small, Veneer didn’t realize it would hurt so much. After that he didn’t want another pet. This was a pain he didn’t want to feel ever again.
#trolls band together#trolls 3#velvet and veneer#veneer#trolls veneer#velvet#velvet trolls#dreamworks trolls#velvet and veneer trolls#trolls#trolls 3 veneer#trolls 3 velvet#veneer trolls#trolls velvet#my asks#answered asks#asks#fanfic#fanfics#trolls fanfic
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
Obligatory Disclaimer #1: Yes, there is a lot of misogyny in the way people talk about the "likability" of female characters. Women in stories can and should be complex, flawed, nuanced, and human, not (just) "likable" (or "sexy" or "mother" or whatever other one-dimensional trope).
Obligatory Disclaimer #2: Yes, I know that an opinion expressed by a character in a story is not necessarily being supported by the narrative itself, or the author, and that people with piss-on-the-poor reading comprehension get this wrong. Good reading comprehension means being able to tell the difference.
Now that we've got that out of the way.
Doesn't it seem like "Female characters don't have to be LIKABLE, you illiterate misogynist!" is often a Privileged Feminist way to silence criticism of... very mainstream bigoted attitudes being presented uncritically in the narrative by being put in the voices of designated "unlikable female characters"?
I love a complex, nuanced, flawed female character. I love an outright villainous female character. I love a character whose flaws and prejudices are slowly picked apart by the narrative. I do not love having the classism, sizeism, and ableism I deal with every day served back to me in Feminist Fiction.
I do not love trying to point out "Hey, this award-winning book you all love, I don't actually like the way the protagonist talks about the working-class fat man. Or the younger woman with anxiety. Or the acquaintance with a disabled child and, like, linoleum floors or something." (Why do I just have all those examples at the ready?)
And being met with "Female characters don't have to be LIKABLE, you illiterate misogynist. Try reading some Serious Literature instead of your fanfic romance YA smut beach reads!"
"Uh, okay, well, it's not so much about the character being likeable as about the way the narrative doesn't seem to challenge the character's, I must reiterate, very widely held prejudices, that makes it seem less like a depiction of a flawed character and more like an uncritical replication of those very widely held prejudices --"
"It's a LITERARY PERSPECTIVE, GOD, didn't you go to SCHOOL? Do you think Lolita is a love story? Do you think Fight Club is about how awesome fighting is?"
"Well, no, but, for example, the way the character was so emotionally abusive to her fat daughter and her neurodivergent son --"
"Uggggh, you don't understand ANYTHING, women don't have to be PERFECT MOTHERS, she's supposed to represent HOW REAL WOMEN FEEL in the face of UNREALISTIC EXPECTATIONS OF PERFECT MOTHERHOOD!"
"So... the unquestioned-by-the-narrative elitism, classism, sizeism, ableism, and ageism are supposed to be... going against societal expectations?"
"OBVIOUSLY! That's how REAL WOMEN REALLY FEEL!"
"I'm a real woman, and I don't feel that way."
"UGGGGGH, YOU ILLITERATE MISOGYNIST, FEMALE CHARACTERS DON'T HAVE TO BE RELATABLE!"
#whatever book you think i'm talking about#yes it's that one#including the ones i haven't read#because it's all of them#“is this a bold unlikable female protagonist? or just an elitist asshole who vomits classism for 400 pages?”#why is there always a “weak sniveling” young woman with anxiety#why is there always a disgusting fat working class man#why is there always somebody with a disabled child and linoleum floors#linoleum floors are great actually especially if you have a disabled child who throws up a lot#why is there always a former gifted young adult son who dropped out of college for a nervous breakdown or something#why is there always a fat daughter who's actually like a medium#why#why are you thinking of 12 books right now#her husband is cheating with the anxious younger woman and it's supposed to be so pathetic because of how weak and sniveling she is#the family with the linoleum floors and the disabled child will also have a big messy dog who makes messes on the linoleum floors#media criticism#literary trends#lit fic#fandom shit#literary snobbery is socially and politically useless
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
so I’m 37, I’ve lived in the US my whole life, and I just got a car for the first time six months ago. Until then, for my entire adult life (my parents had cars and drove us everywhere when i was a kid, like most suburban families) I’d relied on my bicycle, friends with cars, and a passable but not great public transit system (my city has okay public transit but definitely not anywhere near top tier even by US standards).
My reasons for not getting a car for that long were complex (partly a combination of cost/environmental idealism, partly some psychological stuff that I don’t feel like unpacking in public), and my reasons for finally getting a car were also a little complex but also in large part because I really just wanted to be able to go over to my bf’s place on equal terms.
Regardless of the backstory, I got a car six months ago after decades of living without one. Now I can go so many places, do errands so much more efficiently, spend so much less time getting to the places I already want to go…
I hate it.
I hate how immediately dependent I became on it. I hate the sheer degree to which it makes everything just so much easier.
like I knew that the US is an extremely car-centric society in so many ways, but oh my GOD is it SO apparent to me now in ways that just ironically didn’t stand out when you’re deeply entrenched in the “I am not a person with a car” mindset. I hate it I hate it I hate it.
and like. It’s not “I hate it and I want to go back to biking everywhere.” Absolutely not. I hate that the difference in quality of life, the difference in convenience for people with cars and people without cars is SO HUGE. My life is just so much easier now and that’s deeply fucked up, this should not be a prerequisite
I am just so much more capable of doing things than I was before I bought the car, and it’s INCREDIBLY frustrating that this is the case. It shouldn’t be like this! Like, I lived for nearly two adult decades without one of these fucking things, I know it’s (for someone in my location and my physical condition) technically a luxury and not a necessity, but good GOD the sheer degree to which my entire fucking society assumes that anyone and everyone will always have trivial access to a car is just DISGUSTING
ugggggh I know I’m not saying anything new, “car culture sucks and the US needs radically different urban planning and also some fucking public transit options” is what I believed already and is not exactly a new and unique take or anything, but omg it’s just so wild to actually see HOW MUCH privilege is locked away like this, it’s unconscionable
I was able to live without a car for years and years, but i was also able to choose to get one. How are we failing all the people who can’t choose to get one? Or who simply continue to choose not to have one? It’s! Just so frustrating!
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
ok i need to be mean for two seconds
i have a lvl 80 full trace E0 4*LC luocha. but even before i maxed his traces, we barely lost any hp without regaining it near instantly. between him and Gepard there's no way you should be losing even to a gatekeeper. like he's ridiculous as a healer and if you have geppie's defense up like. he'll sponge really well and put huge shields on everyone. like by underleveled did you mean you took level 10s into a 70 area or?????
idk. i think i need to take my sleep meds and go to sleep before i get meaner lol I've lost one battle with Luocha in my party and it was against that motherfucking deer
ugggggh anyway. sleep drugs
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
New Beginnings ~ Kalluzeb
Chapter 2
The aftermath of Zeb taking Kallus to Lira San.
AO3
------------------
Waking up the following morning and gazing upon the chrono, seeing it was most definitely late morning was nearly enough to give the strict routined Alexsandr Kallus a heart attack. He seized upward in bed with a start before taking in his surroundings and remembering where he was. Lira San. Lira San. He mouthed the planet’s name a few times before relaxing. He slowly laid back down, wiping the embarrassing panic from his brow. Honestly.. He shook his head at himself, closing his eyes. He opened them a moment later to peer over at where he expected to find Zeb. Green eyes were staring back and he frowned. Great. His little episode had woken him up. He felt him shift closer and place a hand on his arm. Such concern, he mused. He didn’t question why. The lasat had helped him through quite a few rough nights in the past. It was second nature by now. Kallus found it rather sweet, Zeb’s care for others.
“I’m alright..” He assured him, turning over on his side to give the other a sleepy but sincere smile. He placed a hand over his and went on to explain,raising his brows briefly. “The time. I lost track and forgot that was alright now.” Zeb chuckled and Kallus joined him, bringing up a knee and hooking his leg around one of Zeb’s. He enjoyed the tenderness of this. These moments were no longer something brief, needing to be set to the side for their higher priorities. Even with how set in his ways he was, this was something he could very quickly get used to. He grinned with a slow sigh.“But I suppose I’m awake now. Might as well start the morning..” He started to prop himself up on an elbow, but Zeb wasn’t having any of that.
“Oh, no you don’t…” He said with a gravelly tone conveying just how groggy he still was. But apparently he still had enough energy the keep Kallus from making any sudden movements. Kallus was cursing that brute strength of his, though you couldn’t tell by the way he seemed to melt into it.
He chuckled, turning his head first into his neck and then pulled away so he could look at his face. His eyes were closed now, obviously trying to reclaim sleep and hopeful that Kallus would succumb as well. He would not deny it was tempting. “Zeb…” He reasoned, watching his brow ridges narrow a bit more. Kallus bit his lip. There was something so childish about him that was incredibly adorable. “We can’t just lay around…Come now…” Unfortunately, Zeb was the hard headed, stubborn sort. Kallus was sure he would be perfectly okay without budging from his spot for half the daylight.
“I’m comfortable.”
“I noticed..” He gave him a sleepy smirk, later glancing around to find some way to escape the other’s vice grip. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure he’d be at ease being awake and walking around all by himself on a strange planet, let alone a planet with a strong resemblance to Lasan. However, he was far too awake now to consider getting more rest, even if Zeb and his radiating body heat were inviting. Honestly, if he were that easily swayed, they might just spent the next few years never leaving this room. So, he did his best to disentangle himself from the other, however he wasn’t prepared for the amount of resistance he’d receive.
“Zeb. Can you—
I’m try—
UggggGh…"
Okay. It was less adorable now…
He shoved and pulled and this lasat was really taking this serious, wasn’t he? He could not be that tired if he was using this much power in the first place. Kallus was two seconds from admitting defeat and pledging to kill him later but he got his arms free and gained new resolve. He huffed out a sigh. This should not be such an ordeal. Zeb could go back to sleep if he wanted once Kallus had moved. He was being ridiculous. The way Kallus attempted to free himself was a bit more so. Zeb was strong. He pressed forcefully on his shoulders and at one point shoved the side of his face. Kallus became a bit more irritated than merely playfully amused.
”Garazeb Orrelios. You will let me go this instant…!“
And he did.
The momentum had Kallus falling out of the bed backwards with a loud thud. It took him a second to figure out what had just happened. When the stars left his eyes, he was gazing up at a very smug lasat, laying on his side with his head propped up on a hand. Kallus stared at him hard, wearing a look of disbelief. He was thoroughly pleased with himself. "I’m sorry, did you want to get up…?” The teasing tone was enough to earn him a glare. He did love to mess with him. “What? You said let go..” He chewed on a claw.
Kallus was so very tempted to pull the aggravating lasat out of bed and make him kiss the floor. His mouth tightened. “…I’ve decided your death will be slow.” Zeb began laughing and Kallus found the sound was making him blush. He was determined not to let it turn the tide, because he was supposed to be upset with him. He should be! Not only did he knock him out of bed. He was laughing at him. The nerve! “You are insufferable. I want new lodgings..” He got up and dusted himself off, making a mental note of them needing to clean this place. He observed their surroundings, having been too tired yesterday to really take it in. His gaze shifted when he heard the creak of the mattress. He felt a rough hand ruffle his already messy hair.
“Sure. I’ll get right on that..” Zeb promised with transparency. He could likely tell Kallus wasn’t serious. He’d always been pretty good at reading him…and getting him flustered. That seemed to be his specialty.
Kallus did not hold onto his bitter mood for long, not for more than a few scoffs and indignant looks, perhaps a half hearted punch or two. Zeb was very difficult to stay mad at. He was so….so….Kallus didn’t even have a word for it. Was it possible to feel so much for someone who could drive you mad on a constant basis..? Sometimes he still felt like he didn’t understand what this was between them. He supposed there was never enough time to focus on your feelings when most of your life was dedicated to a job. A purpose.
Still, even through all of that, they had come to a mutual understanding of their importance to one another, as well as their interest… But they had never quite elaborated on just what that meant. War had their lives so hectic and how awkward they both were with emotions certainly hadn’t offered any favors. He had no idea why he was suddenly thinking about this… Maybe it was because everything felt so real. It was so fresh. Absorbing that the war was over has a hard one. Even though he had always hoped to see it, he honestly never thought he’d live long enough. And now, here he was; free. And he was with Zeb whom, of his own accord, invited him to the world he now called home. A place he wanted Kallus to call home. It did not feel real to him. That was what had kept him awake last night. He was so certain all of this would burn away and he’d wake up with a start, alone. It was stupid. He knew that.
He watched Zeb work through his morning routine, knowing he could reach out and touch him if he wanted to. He felt the warmth of the boyish grins he tossed his way. His chest felt light and he felt almost floating, which was a ridiculous feeling for such a serious man to have. But it was real. He knew it was. He needed to stop living inside of his fears. They held him back. They always had. Zeb had taught him that the only way to find peace and have a sense of fulfillment was by taking risks. It was what had brought them together, wasn’t it…? Preparing for the worst case scenario would always leave a part of him closed off. He did not want to be that way. Not with Zeb. He wanted to give all of himself, as scary as that was.
Suddenly his arms were locked around Zeb’s neck and his lips were brushing his and Kallus had barely been aware he’d crossed the room. His body had moved all on its own. Reality was slow to come back to him. This was slow and satisfying but not bearly long enough. He pulled back to give him some distance, not because he seemed unwilling in the least but because he was feeling a little embarrassed for acting so impulsively.
Especially when the first words from Zeb’s mouth were. “…What was that for…?” Kallus wanted to hide his red face but there weren’t many places he wouldn’t be able to tell when they were this close. Zeb raised his head but Kallus could still feel his eyes on him. “Barely ten minutes ago, didn’t you say you were going to kill me…?” He snickered, “Unless that is what you’re doing..”
“You know, I should kill you…. You ever pull something like that again and I just might..” Kallus said firmly but he was far too distracted by the view of the other’s lips to be taken very seriously. Zeb also knew better. The very apparent blush on his cheeks helped with that. He was still so shy.
“Ooh, you really got me shaking over here…You know, your threats have gotten increasingly weaker over the years..” Zeb gave him a smile that made him weak. It was also a bit contagious.
“Don’t tell me you’re dissatisfied with that fact…?” Kallus tilted his head with a raised brow, reaching up to stroke the back of one of Zeb’s ears. His bangs slid slightly over his eyes. He almost moved to swipe them out of the way but Zeb got there before he had the chance. His eyes widened at that but softened quickly after. He received Zeb’s silent answer loud and clear. He lowered his head, hiding the wide grin. He felt Zeb’s hands find his waist and he paused for a moment before glancing upward.
There were far too many thoughts he wanted to convey. To even try right now would come out a bit of a ramble, especially considering he’d not even had his morning caf. There was no oncoming battle to prepare for. They would have all the time in the galaxy…
“Finish getting ready…” He mumbled into his cheek, stroking his thick sideburn and ruffling the purple strands. He gave him one last look before disappearing into the refresher. Hopefully when he inevitably asked him questions later, he’d have answers..
3 notes
·
View notes
Note
hello……… teddy bear anon here. r u happy. i hope so. anyway u should totally go back to playing lads bc . ure like one of my favourite writers and i think ud do them so much justice ☹️☹️☹️ idk if this is a wsird thing to say if it is ignore it and pretend i didnt anything!! if it isnt… heh… lets just say……… lots of requests incoming…
also im afraid u knwo who i am but also who cares . ily. Bai
🧸
why hello there teddy bear anon (hmm i might or might not know who u are……….) and thank u for asking im pretty decent rn how about you my lovely =(^.^)=?
… but wait now i’m so confused because i don’t ever remember mentioning i played lads BUT I JUST READ A ZAYNE FIC AND UGGGGGH it just takes up sm storage.. but idk maybe in the near future i might write for the boys (wink wink skeet skeet)
also this is so not a weird request so don’t even worry ^3^ nothings weird in my inbox (except that one person asking to see my tits. yea i still remember u) so don’t be afraid to request or ask questions!’
#kiss kiss#dottie‘s responses ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚#i can’t find my new tag for my inbox msgs#damnit#i hate how tumblr does this#i can’t even tag with my trademark (as i like to call it)#BUT. YES i might maybe write for lads in the future#i’ll think about it#maybe redownload it#jellyfishes are walking naked#sea turtles climb trees#sharks are eating grass for free#and FINALLY u remember me……
1 note
·
View note
Text
okay so,

It’s gonna take forever to hunt down the kuromi figure in that one figure set ……..
😣ugggggh , maybe I should just go take a tums so my tummy will calm down………
0 notes
Text
Back to my one-sided beef with my therapist over my last session but I'm angry about it again and I just. Ugggggh. How is someone supposed to open up about the deeper or "more severe" stuff if you immediately dismiss the surface level things like they're nothing...... Sometimes (often) I wonder if it's a power and superiority thing (I think it is), like "oh I shall read into everything you say or do and find meaning to it. I, the scholarly expert. Not you, you couldn't possibly say anything of substance". And I think that in my case this is heightened by the fact that he's always on my ass for rationalising things too much, which. fair to an extent, but at some point a fucker has to sit down with themselves and give an order to things. And re: my therapist ignoring what I said about my father and re: opening up about the deeper stuff. So huh. Premise that nothing ever happened and that these were all horrors within my own head, horrors whose origin I began to understand and grapple with head on (muh rationalism 🤪) only after my father fucked off from home for good and I went no contact, but. One of the main features of my adolescence was the ever-present thought/fear that he would or could someday assault me. And because of the way he treated me all my life, like I belonged to him on a spiritual level because I was a better copy of him in everything and I was just so smart and I understood him so well, because of all that now I can say that what was subconsciously kicking my ass was both the fear of not living up to his expectations of me and the uncomfortabless of not being treated like I was my own person, and that it just so happened that my shitty brain took all that and said "so what we're going to do is deal with the identity issues by picturing what it would be like if he decided to violate our body too to make a point and extend his power over us even more. you're welcome". And you know what that did!!! It fucking sucked!!!! I never want to experience those levels of constant edge and paranoia ever again in my life!!!!!!!!! And. It pisses me off so much that I can't talk about this in what's supposed to be the "talk about things" space. It's not even like I think that I should do it to ~heal~ or some shit, like I said I know what the root of those fears was, I can't say that I've made peace with it but I can acknowledge it for what it was/is (it's complicated. I'm not entirely over it yet) and go "ah yeah that's. a thing. that is there". But it's the principle of it that's the problemmmmm aaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrgggggggggghhhhhh. If you can't take the "minor" stuff seriously, how can I trust you with the "major" stuff. How can you expect me to... Especially with these topics being what they are already and with most people not being able to contain useless immediate gut responses or going off about things that add nothing to the discussion first thing first
0 notes
Text
Day 10.
Intonation, blah blah... you know the drill.
Got really bogged down trying to hit those natural harmonics. My prefrontal cortex was getting in the way of my cerebellum... classic blunder. I've apparently got to visualize "lift"... why does that work? I dunno, who cares. But now I'm like, should I try this trick with the original fingering or do I just need to keep it fucking moving because I've got plenty of other problems to tackle here...
Which I guess leads me to my other question: two weeks is coming up, am I just gonna... stop playing this altogether and move onto some other piece? This shit isn't going to be playable by Friday. My most optimistic guess would be at least another week after that to be able to run through the whole thing without completely losing the plot on either my chosen fingering or the bowing, and that's very optimistic. But at the same time, "a week or two away from maybe playable" is so tempting. Ugggggh I dunno. I mean, I don't think I'm going to subject Spouse to this, LOL. I might... uggggggggh I might just record it for reference, with the hopes that I can look back on it in a year and laugh at how bad it was and how much progress I'll have made since then.
1 note
·
View note
Text
They are not silly and it's my utmost honor to read them! 🥰 You honestly spoil me, babes! ❤️
"While flirting with professional soccer players seemed to come easy to April,"
April be like:


She's living her best life and we support her rights and all her wrongs in this house 🤪
The corner of Keeley’s mouth tugged upwards knowingly. “Now that is a perfect idea,” she said, eyes shifting back to Roy as he approached, beer in hand. “Absolutely perfect.”
KEELEY YOU MASTERMIND GENIUS!! I love how she keeps plotting to get Roy some good 🐱 LMAOO but what's better is that it isn't just ANY 🐱 Nope, uh uh. She chose the crème de la crème for him 👏🏽😜 She's the real G!
at some point she was so worried for him and was probably like

“But then only a handful of people attend his funeral. Once the party is over, no one cares about him anymore.” She looked back at Roy. “That’s going to be me, isn’t it?”
stab me in the heart, it'll hurt less 😭😭😭😭 I just wanna wrap her up like a burrito and hold her and tell her she's everything!! 🥺❤️ I mean, I read it when you sent me the little sneek peek but daaaamn it hurts every. single. time.
And then, our emotionally contipated hubby had to go and say something stupid *sighs* smh Roycito smh
but I looove how condescending and lowkey judgemental he is about her with just what little info he has on her, just to have her proof him wrong at every turn 😌 like, baby you should know there's always more than what meets the eyes.
either missing or ignoring the way Roy’s eyes lingered for a moment too long on her bare legs.

“Calamitous?” Roy read, wrinkling his nose. “What the fuck is calamitous? Is that even a word?”


“I should fucking sleep,” he mumbled, taking care to grab a couple of empty bottles. “Gotta be out of here early for training. Thanks for the pizza. And the beer.” He nodded to my guitar. “And the song.”
*sighs* once again...emotionally constipated. But, we. are. so. close.
I just know she'll be THE BEST tía to Phoebe, but I also understand his fear of introducing them to each other in the middle of all that mess 😕 and UGGGGGH Roycitoooo lmaoo I love how pathetic he is when it comes to Keeley (affectionate) like, babes... the love of your life is just in front of you 😂
CAN'T WAIT TO READ ABOUT THE FUNDRAISING EVENT!!! And to read about the moment he sings because that'll be interesting 👀👀👀
So why the fuck did his palms feel sweaty at the thought of fake-kissing this woman?
honetly me rn


Imma drop this here, babes because this is, once again, a top tier, 5 stars restaurant meal 😍❤️

And I Know It's Sad, But This Is What I Think About
I'll Write Your Name Chapter 4
Roy Kent x Latina!Popstar!Reader
6.2k words
Warnings: Language, brief mentions of alcohol, spoilers for The Great Gatsby
Happy Valentine's Day everyone! Thank you as always to @agentstarkid for being the best and reading all my silly love stories💕
After my third Richmond game, April and I found ourselves once again having dinner with the Greyhounds at Ola’s. This time, Roy Kent and I sat with some of the players, who I was pleased to watch flirt with April; my beautiful assistant and best friend deserved the attention of hot, rich athletes, I decided.
While flirting with professional soccer players seemed to come easy to April, it felt like Roy and I were still figuring out how to flirt with each other. We sat close enough that our shoulders were touching, I flashed him plenty of coy smiles, and he made a point to whisper in my ear every now and then- although it was usually something like “Can I fucking leave now?” But still, if we were going to convince people that this was real, we’d probably have to step things up soon.
I remembered something Keeley had texted me the day before- we needed another date, and soon.
“What’re you doing tomorrow?” I murmured, loud enough for only Kent to hear.
He grunted and shifted in his seat. “Why?” After I simply narrowed my eyes at him, he sighed. “Keeley texted you too, hmm?” He sighed, shoveling another bite into his mouth. “What were you thinking?”
I thought for a moment, trying to avoid something simple like dinner, where we’d have to talk to each other and act like two people who were interested in each other. “Want to go on a picnic? We could bring a couple of books. Wouldn’t have to say a word to each other.”
Roy blinked, clearly processing what I’d just said; I could practically hear gears whirring before he finally spoke. “Sounds fucking perfect.”
Satisfied that I’d done my part, I turned my attention back to my delicious meal; if I got nothing else out of this fake relationship, at least I’d be well-fed for the next few months.
“Hey there!” Keeley Jones plopped down on my other side, smiling broadly at me.
Suddenly very aware of the eyes of the team on me, the way they’d been the night I “met” Keeley the first time I visited Ola’s, I returned her smile with one of my own, going so far as to playfully bump her shoulder with mine.
“Thank you again for inviting us to sit with you and Rebecca,” I gushed, and I really meant it; if I was going to be hanging out at Nelson Road, it was nice to do so in a comfortable suite with champagne in my hand. “It was actually really fun.”
Keeley’s smile widened; it was warm and friendly and genuine, making it obvious why everyone seemed to adore her. “I’m so glad you enjoyed yourself! We’ll have to get you a Kent kit now, eh? I’ve got an old one you could have if you like.”
I swore Roy stiffened next to me. “That’s alright,” I assured her. “I think April was going to order one for me to wear to their next game.” I turned to Roy with a shrug. “Gotta look the part, right?”
Roy mumbled something about getting another beer and stood, pausing only to briefly touch my shoulder; I ignored how warm his touch was. Once he was gone, I turned my attention back to Keeley, whose eyes were following Roy with something that looked a lot like pity.
“How’re you two getting on?” she asked in a low voice, scooching closer.
The only response that felt right was a shrug. “It’s fine,” I murmured. “Definitely working on getting used to each other. Going from complete strangers to dating is… a unique way of getting to know someone.” She seemed to be waiting for me to continue, so I added, “We’re going on a picnic tomorrow. I told him we could bring a couple books, that way we don’t have to just stare at each other the whole time.”
The corner of Keeley’s mouth tugged upwards knowingly. “Now that is a perfect idea,” she said, eyes shifting back to Roy as he approached, beer in hand. “Absolutely perfect.”
~
“How’s here?”
Roy grunted in response and dropped the picnic basket to the ground. Ten minutes felt like far too long to look for the “perfect” picnic spot, but Keeley had been kind of specific; it needed to be a public enough spot that they would be seen, but secluded enough that it didn’t look like they were trying to be seen.
He was beginning to wish they’d just gone to the pub again; at least then he could have a pint.
Instead, he helped spread out the blanket they’d brought with them and opened up the picnic basket, the one Keeley had dropped off at his house early that morning and that his date- when the fuck would he have to start saying girlfriend?- had loaded with lunch and snacks. He couldn’t help but wonder what kind of food she’d packed. Probably something trendy and vegan-y. Was she a vegan? Roy didn’t fucking know. But she was young and trendy and pretty and-
“Here.” She shoved something wrapped in white paper into his hands. “Should we eat first?”
Roy gingerly unwrapped the bundle, immediately recognizing its contents. “Is this a fucking kebab?”
She shrugged, already chomping on a bite of her own kebab. “Yeah. That a problem?”
Ignoring the annoyance in her voice, Roy took a bite; fuck, he’d know that flavor anywhere. “Where’d you get this?”
“That kebab place you like.” Her tone was casual, as if it didn’t matter. “I asked Keeley what you like, she sent me the address.” After eating another bite, she shrugged. “The owner asked me to bring in a headshot next time, said he’d give me free kebabs for life.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Roy’s grip tightened on his kebab; he ate there at least once a week and still was never given so much as a discount. But she goes in once and gets kebabs for life? Fucking hell. Well, at least he’d get to take advantage for the next few months. Maybe he would benefit from this charade after all.
Still munching on her kebab, she reached into the bag she’d brought and pulled out a book, settling herself into a comfortable position before opening it. Roy took the hint and grabbed his own book out of the picnic basket, a murder mystery his sister had given him for his birthday. He glanced up over the top of his book to get a glimpse of what she was reading.
“The Great Gatsby?” he asked, raising his thick eyebrows.
She nodded, her gaze still on her book. “It’s my favorite,” she said simply. After a moment, her eyes flickered up to meet Roy’s. “I try to read it every year.”
Not sure why he was still talking, Roy sat up a little straighter. “Every year? I mean, yeah, it’s a fucking good book, but why would you read it every fucking year?”
“It’s… familiar.” She set the book down, now fully looking at Roy. “Everyone is desperate to be at Gatsby’s parties, to be surrounded by his wealth and glamor, to drink his booze and enjoy his hospitality.” She frowned, eyes flittering back to the book. “But then only a handful of people attend his funeral. Once the party is over, no one cares about him anymore.” She looked back at Roy. “That’s going to be me, isn’t it?”
Roy was speechless. Something about the softness in her eyes was so familiar, almost like looking in a mirror. That’s going to be me, isn’t it? How many times had Roy mumbled something just as cynical and broken? How many people- reporters, women, friends, even family- had stopped calling once he slowed down? How many more once he stepped off the field for the last time? In her eyes Roy could see the same dejection and fear of loneliness that had nestled itself inside Roy’s chest these last few years. It was something hard to explain, something one could only understand if they’d felt it deep in their souls. And it seemed to be something they both shared.
But instead of admitting to understanding how she felt and allowing her to glimpse behind his scowls and hard expressions, Roy simply shifted on the blanket and bit off his lunch. “Fucking hell. Are you always some fucking tortured poet, sunshine?”
Her face faltered for only a fraction of a second, but it was long enough for Roy to want to kick himself for ruining the moment. She quickly recovered, picking her book back up and burying herself back into Jay Gatsby’s empty affluence. “Read your fucking book, Kent,” she mumbled, flipping a page absently. “There’s a photographer in those bushes.”
Sure enough, when Roy glanced around out of the corner of his eye, he could just make out the familiar sight of a camera lens.
~
“So, how’s it going with Roy Kent?”
Lanie looked perky as we sat in her office. My guard was immediately up; a perky publicist was never a good sign, I’d learned. It usually meant they had something rotten to tell you.
Anticipating whatever it was, I slouched into my seat, ready to narrow my eyes or scowl at a moment’s notice. “It’s fine,” I mumbled. “Keeley Jones said our picnic date got a lot of positive attention, and she said the Greyhounds’ viewership has skyrocketed since I started attending matches. So, it looks like we’re doing our jobs pretty well. Is my press looking good?”
Lanie nodded, eyes on her phone. “Good, good,” she said absently, as if she wasn’t really listening.
“Lanie?” I called.
She looked back up at me. “Well, with the Roy Kent stuff, you’ve got plenty of attention, and it looks like people are excited to see you in a new relationship, especially with someone who looks like him.” She ignored the way I wrinkled my nose. “But, uh, this morning I got wind of something that might take a little attention away from you and Roy.” She handed me her phone with a grimace.
The photo was kind of blurry, but I knew the two figures immediately. Everett- my most recent ex- nuzzling close to Cameron, the woman who had once called herself my best friend until she found out that a boyfriend of hers hit on me. Even though I had clearly rebuffed him and told Cam right away, she very publicly ended our friendship and even more publicly accused me of trying to steal her man. And now, irony of ironies, there she was, attached to my ex-boyfriend like the leech Lanie had always warned me she was.
“Lovely,” I finally snorted, gingerly handing the phone back to Lanie. “Do we think it’s real or just for attention? I know Cam’s new show starts filming soon.”
Lanie rolled her eyes. “Please, they’re not clever enough to pull off something calculated. If anything, he’s trying to make you jealous and she’s trying to get revenge on you. Idiots.” She sighed and dropped her phone onto the coffee table. “But, of course, your name’s being dragged into it. The phrase ‘love triangle’ has been trending on Twitter all morning.”
“Gross.”
“Agreed.” Lanie rolled her neck, something she often did when she was stressed. “I’ve been on the phone with Keeley this morning, and we both agree it’s time to step things up with you and Roy. Go public, make things official. Attend an event together that’s not a Richmond dinner.”
How much further could I slouch before I ended up lying down on the couch? “What event did you guys have in mind?”
“Your annual fabulous karaoke party!”
Keeley Jones strutted into the office with Roy right behind her. She greeted Lanie and I each with friendly hugs and kisses on cheeks; Roy, on the other hand, opted for short nods to each of us. Lanie stood and motioned for Roy to take her seat beside me; we shuffled awkwardly to ensure our knees wouldn’t bump.
Once we were all settled, I turned to Keeley, who now stood next to Lanie. “My karaoke party?” I echoed, feeling my stomach churn.
The “party” was the main fundraiser I threw every year for my nonprofit back home; it was near and dear to my heart, incredibly personal, and my favorite night of the year.
And now I’d have to share it with Roy Kent.
Sensing my unease, Lanie smiled at me, one of her reassuring smiles, the kind she always had for me after a bad bit of press. “It’ll be great publicity,” she pointed out. “You’ll probably raise even more than you did last year. Can you imagine how many people will register for the livestream? Especially if he sings,” she added, pointing at Roy.
“Sing?” the manager practically spat. “I have to sing at this party?”
With a sigh that even I knew was overdramatic, I turned to look at him, taking in his scowl and furrowed brow. “It’s a karaoke party,” I explained slowly, remembering how condescending he’d been the very first time we’d spoken in front of the elevator at Keeley’s office. “People pay a pretty penny for a ticket, there’s a paid livestream of all the singing, and I always release a new song, with all the proceeds going to my nonprofit. It’s… kind of a big deal.”
When Roy frowned, I could practically see the gears turning in his head as he processed this new information. After a moment of silence, he opened his mouth. “You should invite some of the guys. They’d definitely fucking sing.”
Keeley bounced happily at Roy’s suggestion. “That would be perfect! And it would really show the two of you becoming part of each other’s worlds too.” She quickly tapped at her phone, somehow lighting up even brighter. “And it’s a bye week for them!” She shot me a wink. “Looks like the universe is really lining things up for us, hmm?”
All I could do was smile weakly, my mind spinning from learning about my ex-boyfriend and ex-friend becoming an item and finding out that I’d have to spend my favorite night of the year with a man who had barely glanced at me since that night we played darts together. I made up my mind to ask Lanie if my reputation really needed this much help or if she, as usual, was overreacting. Just as soon as Roy and Keeley left, I decided. Surely, with the numbers my upcoming tour sales was doing, along with the amount of people already signed up for the fundraiser’s livestream, and with all this social media attention, could dating a former soccer star turned grumpy coach really help that much?
“Oi, sunshine, your place or mine?”
Sunshine. Roy’s gruff use of the name he’d mumbled during our picnic had me snapping back to attention, out of my planned objections to my publicist. I stared at Roy blankly, trying to imagine what in the hell I’d missed that had him prompting what I thought he might be prompting- especially in front of his ex-girlfriend.
“She was zoning out,” Lanie quickly explained as she threw an M&M at me, her usual way of bringing me back to attention. “We want you two to have a sleepover,” she said loudly, as if she was repeating herself- which she probably was. “Something simple and domestic. Something you can post on your socials so continue this little soft launch. Something to help make things believable.”
Roy nodded. “Keeley says just being seen in public isn’t enough to make it seem real. We’ve got to really sell this shit.” He scowled at me. “So, your place or mine?”
Okay, so that made a lot more sense than what I’d feared he was asking me. “My place,” I said, clearing my throat. “You can come over to my place.”
~
Roy let out a low growl as he pulled up to the front gate of the address on his phone. He quickly punched in the gate code she’d sent him, relieved he didn’t have to call her to let him in, and drove up the short driveway.
Her house wasn’t what he’d imagined; with the money he- and the rest of the world- knew she was worth, Roy’d figured she lived in a fucking castle or some modern monstrosity. Instead, he walked in the moonlight to the door of a sweet two-story house, blinking as he read the doormat that declared “There’s no place like home”. He heaved his duffel bag over his shoulder and sharply knocked on the door, sucking his breath between his teeth. Another step in this weird, weird fucking situation he found himself in.
When the door opened, Roy instinctively took a step back, forcing himself to look her in the eye. She nodded curtly to him, gesturing for him to enter the house. “Kent,” was her simple greeting.
He returned the curt reception with a grunt of his own and followed her inside and into her sitting room, marveling at how the house did not match his expectations. He’d figured it would be something like Keeley’s place, all bright and pink and stylish with fluffy pillows everywhere. But everything was simple and cozy, and there were a lot more photos than he expected. Her family, he assumed, as his eyes lingered on a photo of her with a couple of pre-teen kids. In one corner was a piano, one he figured she used a lot, and one wall was completely covered with a bookshelf, which housed a large and clearly well-used library. It reminded Roy a bit of his own place if he was being honest. Simple, homey, and probably a refuge from a life lived in the public eye.
Before he could ask about the framed drawing that was clearly done by a child around Pheobe’s age, something brushed against Roy’s leg. “What the fuck?” he bellowed, looking down to see a cat staring back up at him.
“That’s Sydney,” his host explained, picking up the animal. “Syd, say hi to Roy.” She kissed the top of the cat’s head. “Apparently we need to get used to him,” she stage-whispered into the cat’s fur.
Roy snorted as he focused his gaze on the cat. He could almost appreciate the sarcasm in her voice- almost. Instead, he gestured to his duffel bag. “Where can I set this down? Are you sticking me in the backyard, or do I have to sleep in my car?”
With something resembling a smirk on her lips, she set the cat down and once again beckoned for Roy to follow her. “I’ve got a guest room,” she assured him as she led him down the hall. She let Roy enter the room alone, choosing to linger in the hallway and watch him drop his bag to the floor. She cleared her throat as the cat- Sydney- caught up with them. “I ordered a pizza,” she mumbled, shifting her weight. “We could, I don’t fucking know, watch a movie or something until, well...”
Right. Fucking sleepover. “Yeah, sounds fine,” Roy muttered, staring at the cat. He’d probably spend most of his night looking at the animal, he realized. “I’m just gonna… throw on some fucking sweats. If that’s alright.”
She nodded, her cool demeanor reappearing. “Do your thing,” she said airily. “Let me know if you need anything.” After giving Roy a firm, businesslike nod, she was gone.
With a shake of his head, Roy quickly threw on some sweats and a t-shirt, trying not to put too much thought into what the evening ahead held. Was this really necessary? Did the other fake couples Keeley knew- which she assured him was quite a few- have to go to such lengths? Knowing Keeley, she was probably just trying to push Roy’s buttons, see how far she could take this shit before Roy snapped.
But again, he was trying to prove to her that he was willing to go above and beyond for her. Anything for Keeley, he reminded himself as he trudged back into the sitting room.
He plopped himself down on the couch, where Sydney the Cat was already perched and watching Roy with narrowed cat eyes. Jamie had once compared Roy to a cat during a team dinner, he remembered. Not very social, easy to annoy, but incredibly loyal and affectionate once they decided to let someone in. Keeley had found the comparison hilarious and proceeded to call Roy “Fluffy” for the rest of the night. He chuckled to himself at the memory; he should send Keeley a picture of Sydney and let her know he remembered the joke. He always remembered Keeley’s jokes.
As he reached for his mobile, a voice came from the direction of what he assumed was the kitchen. “You eat pepperoni, right? I forgot to ask.”
The most glamorous popstar in the world strolled back into the sitting room holding a cardboard box in her hands with two bottles of beer balanced on top. Instead of her usual dresses or fashionable outfits Roy and the rest of the world was used to seeing her in, she wore a particularly tiny pair of sleep shorts and a Greyhounds sweatshirt- the one Roy had seen her wear to their matches lately.
Roy wasn’t blind. He knew she was a stunning woman, whether she was on an album cover or, apparently, in her pyjamas. And if he’d bothered to give the matter even two seconds of thought, he would’ve noted that he rather liked her figure, especially when she looked so comfortable and domestic. But Roy couldn’t think about that. Not when he heard Keeley’s name come out of her mouth.
“Keeley said to make sure we both post on our socials,” she was saying, either missing or ignoring the way Roy’s eyes lingered for a moment too long on her bare legs. “Why I couldn’t just send you something to post is beyond me.” She set the pizza down on the coffee table and plopped onto the couch, a respectable distance from Roy’s spot. “Like, is you coming over really, truly necessary?”
Roy snorted and made himself busy with a beer. “I was thinking the same thing,” he admitted. “But Keeley’s always got a method to her fucking madness. You learn to just fucking go with it.” Deciding he needed to look at something that wasn’t the way she was stretching out comfortably on her couch, Roy stood abruptly and meandered over to her bookshelf. “You read a lot?” he said, scanning her collection more closely now.
“When I can,” came her breezy answer. “I’d love to say I’ve read everything on that shelf, but that’s mostly a collection of books I want to read.”
“Maybe we can do more reading dates.” Roy didn’t know what the fuck made him say that; it just slipped out as he stared at a particularly worn copy of The Bell Jar. When he glanced over his shoulder, he was surprised to see a smile on her face.
She shrugged and sipped her own beer. “Sure, Kent. Sounds good.”
Ignoring whatever feeling was forming in his chest, Roy returned to the shelf, recognizing some names and finding himself curious about others. Finally, he spotted a stack of games on the bottom shelf. He noted that there were about four versions of the same game. “You like Scrabble?” he blurted out, desperate to put distance between himself and his picnic suggestion.
“Love it,” she laughed. “When my parents came to the States from Mexico, they were each pretty young and worked really hard to learn English. They wanted to make sure all of their kids were fluent in English, so in our house we were always reading and playing games like Scrabble.” Her smile became a smirk. “My youngest brother refuses to play with me anymore because I kind of win a lot.”
The competitive streak that made Roy a football legend started to bubble up in his chest. “That so?” He picked up one of the boxes and brought it over to the coffee table. “Let’s see, then.”
~
“You can’t put that word!” I cackled, throwing my head back when I saw the word Roy was putting on the board.
Roy smirked and put the ‘C’ down with finality. “I absolutely fucking can. And I did so…” He shrugged. “Gimme my points, sunshine.”
After updating Roy’s score, I snapped a photo of the board. “That’s going on Instagram,” I warned him with a smirk. I quickly shared the picture and put my phone down, trusting that Lanie would text me later about the post blowing up.
We finished one game, then another, and started a third. We didn’t talk much, but it didn’t feel as awkward as those first few dinners with the Greyhounds. Sydney laid close to Roy, clearly already used to him, and I couldn’t deny the warm feeling in my chest when I saw him absently stroke her fur between turns. Maybe we’ll be friends, I thought fondly as I put down the tiles for my latest turn. Real, actual friends.
“Calamitous?” Roy read, wrinkling his nose. “What the fuck is calamitous? Is that even a word?”
I smirked and sipped my beer. “It absolutely is!” I stood and strolled over to my bookshelf, returning with the Scrabble dictionary my sister had given me a couple years ago. “Look it up.”
After shooting me a suspicious look, Roy flipped through the book; his scowl told me he had indeed found calamitous.
“It’s a good word,” I said as I sat back down. “One of my favorites. I’ve just been waiting for the right time to put it in a song.”
His gaze turned thoughtful as he stared at his letter tiles. “You written anything lately?” Before I could answer, he opened his mouth again. “You said something about a song for your fundraiser thing. It’s a new one, right?”
I nodded, squirming a bit as I thought about the song, one I’d been pouring a lot of myself into. “Yeah. I always release a new song after the party.” My eyes fell so Sydney, curled up close to Roy. “Want to hear a bit?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.”
His almost silly answer was enough to get me to my feet and retrieving my guitar from the extra room I often worked in. When I came back, Roy sat up straight, his gaze trained on my guitar as I settled on the couch.
“It’s called ‘Nothing New’,” I explained as I began to strum my guitar. “Here’s the chorus.”
Lord, what will become of me
Once I've lost my novelty?
I've had too much to drink tonight
And I know it's sad, but this is what I think about
And I wake up in the middle of the night
It's like I can feel time moving
How can a person know everything at 18 but nothing at 22?
And will you still want me when I'm nothing new?
When I finally looked at Roy, his mouth was agape, and he was blinking rapidly.
“Fucking hell,” he whispered. “That’s good. That’s really fucking good.” He shook his head. “Reminds me of that shit you said the other day, about Gatsby and funerals and all that.” He sighed, a heavy, sad sound, and his voice was almost impossible to hear. “Fucking reminds me of me.”
I didn’t know what to say to that; I vaguely knew the story of Roy’s injury, the one that ended his career, and Dani had said something about it taking a while for Roy to find his way back to Richmond after his retirement. But I didn’t think Roy was the kind of person who liked to talk about anything, let alone what was probably the worst time in his life. So instead, I watched him stare stonily at my silent guitar, not saying a word when he stood abruptly, something I was quickly getting used to seeing.
“I should fucking sleep,” he mumbled, taking care to grab a couple of empty bottles. “Gotta be out of here early for training. Thanks for the pizza. And the beer.” He nodded to my guitar. “And the song.” After nudging Sydney gently with his foot, Roy turned on his heel and disappeared into the kitchen; I didn’t move from my spot until I heard the guest room door shut with finality.
~


~
Roy sighed as he sat down in front of the assembled reporters, all waiting to pounce on him after a hard-earned Greyhound victory. As always, Keeley stood in the back of the room, an encouraging smile on her face, the kind of smile that always gave Roy the strength to tackle what was probably his least favorite part of the job.
He answered several questions about the match- probably one of their best of the season, if he was being honest with himself- before the topic he was dreading finally reared its head.
“Coach Kent,” some wanker from a publication Roy couldn’t be bothered to remember called out, “care to say anything about the rumors concerning your latest fling?”
Instinctively, Roy bared his teeth and squared his shoulders before leaning forward, ready to growl out, “No.” However, a raised eyebrow from Keeley had him taking a deep breath; she’d trained him for this, he reminded himself. He knew what he was supposed to say. “We’re just… spending time together,” he said, trying to keep his voice light. “It’s been… nice, getting to know each other.” When he looked at Keeley, she was giving him a big thumbs up; it was enough to have him continue. “She’s different than I expected,” he added, nodding more to himself than anyone else.
“How’d you two meet?”
He coughed into his hand; he knew how to answer this, too. “She’s good friends with Dani Rojas,” he explained, wondering if it sounded as rehearsed as it felt. “So, she came to a match and then came out with the team afterwards. We danced a little, and then she gave me her phone number.” Again, Keeley smiled encouragingly. “It’s been kind of fucking cool, having her at our matches. She’s really embraced the Richmond way.” That last bit was something Keeley had come up with; normally, Roy would think it sounded incredibly lame and positively cheesy. But, since Keeley was the mastermind, he didn’t complain one bit.
Another reporter spoke up. “Will you be at her upcoming fundraiser? The karaoke party is legendary.”
“Yeah, I’ll be there,” Roy answered with what he hoped was a good-natured smirk. “Get enough drinks in me, I might even fucking sing.” For a brief moment, the chuckles that filled the room reminded Roy of how this room sounded when Ted was there; he hadn’t realized he actually missed that sound.
“Have you heard her new song?” The voice was hopeful, as if Roy was about to give everyone a big scoop, let the sports reporters have something the gossip columnists would kill for.
For the first time since the press conference began, Roy’s smile was real. “I’ve heard a little,” he admitted. “And I won’t tell you a fucking thing, except that it’s fucking brilliant.”
Roy maneuvered around a few more questions- Would she be attending more Richmond matches? (“Hopefully.”) Would Roy be going to any of the shows during her upcoming tour. (“We’ll see.”) Who won their Scrabble tournament? (“No fucking comment.”)- before he was finally set free. He and Keeley reconvened in his office, making sure no one else was around before assessing how Roy’s first official acknowledgement of the “relationship” had gone.
“You did a great job,” Keeley assured him from her perch on the edge of his desk, a spot she’d taken countless times. “Might be the most charming I’ve ever seen you at a presser, Roy. Looks like she’s really rubbing off on you.” Her wink had Roy’s insides squirming. “Did you really hear the song already?”
“Yeah,” Roy mumbled, slouching in his seat. “She played some for me the other night, during our sleepover.” He surprised even himself by not rolling his eyes at the word sleepover. “It’s fucking sad,” he continued, completely unprompted. “But really beautiful. Nothing like the fluffy stuff you hear on the radio.”
Keeley gently tossed a stray paperclip at Roy. “Oi, I like her fluffy stuff! And so does Phoebe, I might add.” Her smile widened. “Your niece wants to know when you’re introducing her to your girlfriend, by the way. It’s all she talked about at our last Pheebs and Keels Day.”
Roy shook his head. “Oh no,” he scoffed, folding his arms. “Not fucking happening. Last thing I need is for her to get attached. Look what happened with-”
Fuck.
The smile disappeared from Keeley’s face. “Right,” she said quietly, looking down at her hands. “Yeah, might not be the best idea, eh?” After a moment, she perked up again, reigniting the energy in the room. “Have you two kissed yet?”
“What the fuck Keeley?” Roy hissed, looking around the obviously empty office; she’d sure recovered quickly from the awkward moment he’d caused.
She shrugged, clearly unfazed. “You’re officially together and are starting to go out in public as a couple. It’ll look funny if you don’t start being affectionate soon. I figured maybe you two’d gotten it out of the way already, so your first kiss isn’t in front of the cameras."
Shit. Roy hadn’t even started to think about how they’d act now that things were “official”. Had she?
“Don’t fucking worry about it,” Roy mumbled, wondering why he was blushing so furiously. “I’m a forty-year-old man, Keeley. I know how to kiss a woman.”
“Yeah, but she’s not just any woman,” Keeley pointed out as she stood. “Just something to think about.” She paused, studying Roy’s face carefully. “You really did do a good job in there, Roy. I almost believed you for a second, smiling and blushing as you gushed about that gorgeous girl.” Her smile returned, completely full of mischief. “Anything you want to share?”
Roy narrowed his eyes at his ex and threw the paper clip she’d tossed at him earlier. “Fuck off, Keeley,” was all he managed before the giggling blonde strutted out of the office. He looked down at his phone to check where the guys would be going after the match; after all, he was expected to be there with-
“Hey there!”
Roy looked up at the sound of Keeley’s cheery voice. His “girlfriend” came into view, smiling tightly at Keeley as they squeezed by each other through the doorway. The popstar saluted as she entered the office.
“Hey, Kent,” she hummed, pausing by the door and leaning against the frame. “I was thinking, want to ride to the restaurant together?”
He heard what she said. He knew he had. But the only thing he could focus on was her mouth, the same mouth that had left lipstick marks on his cheek and had formed a smile when she won two Scrabble games in a row. The same mouth he’d have to kiss soon. He’d kissed plenty of women; hell, he’d more than kissed plenty of women. And those were kisses he’d actually meant.
So why the fuck did his palms feel sweaty at the thought of fake-kissing this woman?
“Kent? Kent?”
Oh fucking hell, she’d caught him staring.
Roy cleared his throat and stood up, pocketing his mobile. “Alright, yeah. Let’s go.”
She narrowed her eyes at him as they walked out of the office. “You alright?”
“Yeah. I’m fucking fine.” Roy’s hand balled into a fist at his side as he fought the urge to clear his throat again.
“Okay then.” They walked silently down the hall, looking nothing at all like a couple in love. Finally, she bumped him with her shoulder. “Saw your press conference,” she said, her voice light and teasing.
Roy nodded, wondering if his face looked as warm as it felt. “What’d you think?”
When he glanced at her, she was staring straight ahead- and smiling. “You told them you liked the song.” Her voice could only be described as pleased.
“Well, yeah,” Roy mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s the truth. It’s… it’s really fucking good. I can’t wait to hear the rest.”
She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again. Finally, she looked at him, her face serious now. “Hey, there’s some reporters hanging around outside. D’you think we should hold hands or something?”
Roy’s eyes flickered down to her outstretched hand before returning to her face; she gazed at him with raised eyebrows, waiting for his answer.
“Probably a good idea,” he murmured. With that, he took her hand in his, giving it a small squeeze as they walked out of the Dog Track.
He kept her hand in his as they walked through the parking lot; while his eyes stayed trained on his giant black car, she smiled sweetly at the couple of reporters who called their names and even offered a small wave in their direction. Roy held her door open and helped her climb inside, closing the door once she was settled. Once he was in the driver’s seat, he resisted the urge to grab her hand; old habit from dating Keeley, he told himself.
Still, he couldn’t help but wonder why his hand felt so cold without her fingers intertwined with his.
Taglist: @infinetlyforgotten@ladygrey03@book-of-roses@thatonedogwithablog@misshall14@wibblywobblyvampywolfystuff@akornsworld@itswhateveripromise@purecinnamonextract@oceanncurrent@dearvoidgoodnight@hopefulromances@respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog@hotleaf-juice@emmy2811@captainorbust-blog@preciousbabypeter@shion-ah@royalestrellas@eugene-emt-roe@littleesilvia@teenwolf01@sisinever@yagotgames@queen-of-the-downtown-scene @emmaallisonann @mrdsturd @confessionsofatotaldramaslut
114 notes
·
View notes
Text
the NORMAL book to read in a tree on campus at my very professional adult job is the scientific history book, but the one that WILL get me the look of absolute befuddlement and mild consternation I crave from my supervisor is the gnostic gospels, so here we are
#jk I will probably put the actual fuckin library book I still have to finish in my backpack like the smart cookie I am#I have had at least one of my library books for over a year. and at this point it's just a point of spite that I will finish it.#tbh I may return that one cuz it's just a media studies book on time travel in tv and film and I'm like. what are you gonna tell me.#what are you going to impart to me that I don't already know.#I've got a media degree and have watched every piece of media referenced in the book. what do you have to tell me.#however. derrida on time is like. I NEED TO GET THROUGH THAT BOOK. FUCK. for my soul#DON'T @ me we've known I'm insane in this particular way. if you didn't idk what to tell you okay.#I have to say I've done very well at not buying books. I have bought One all year.#it helps that I haven't gone anywhere. but.#I should go to the used bookstore next to campus tho. cuz I wanna. 'should' I say lmfao.#it's as a treat!!! also I don't think I perused their poetry section last time I was there.#NOT that I don't have like three poetry anthologies to read on my shelf right now. fuck.#hmm maybe I should actually bring the norton native nations poetry anthology instead.#got that one. we want it all (transpoetics). and a book of luminous things.#ugggggh I have so much reading to do.#jesus CHRIST I have a to do list
14 notes
·
View notes