#and when I say 'nicer' I mean 'not totally dogshit'

[david-watts]

I feel kinda bad about those comments I made on that one post because I was being a bit of a dick, and it was because I was tired and misunderstanding exactly why people get so mad about ‘tiktok punks’ (please just call them posers. that word already exists and means what you mean) but like. I do stand by the fact that I don’t care if people end up buying from ethically awful places since it’s not easy or affordable to avoid, and quite frankly I understand if someone’s a bit lazy about it. but that one person accusing me of thinking ‘slavery is punk’ genuinely made me realise those posts about reading comprehension on this site being godawful aren’t hyperbole

[stoppit-keepout]

:) so i watched all of ted lasso that’s out (to date, so up to 2x11) this week, and i’ve been avoiding thinking of work and preferring thinking of a keeley/roy/jamie fic so uh: here is a concept, in the hopes that writing it out here will free me of its dark draw and let me keep focusing on my actual active wips. heads up that it starts kinda gross and gets more tolerable after the first 3 paras lol.

jamie’s dad is a real shit, we can all agree. he has decided to escalate that to a particularly literal level by just... (sorry for being gross, he’s gross) leaving shit on jamie’s doorstep as wretched, childish revenge for jamie standing up for himself in Man City.

The first time Jamie gets home after practice and nearly steps in dogshit, he doesn’t lie to himself. This wasn’t some rich idiot neighbour letting their dog do its business wherever. Years of living with his father’s fucking antics, he knows a ploy when he’s forced to scrape it off his front step with a garden spade.

And as childish and stupid as it is, the disgust from dealing with these regular deliveries of shit gets under his skin. It has a twisted element of genius, because it’s so fucking stupid that it’s not like Jamie can tell anyone about it and have them take it seriously. He’s not about to go whining to anybody that his daddy’s been leaving poo on his doorstep, that’d be psychotic. It’s not even threatening, really, it’s just nasty. It just means his dad’s keeping an eye on when Jamie’s at home, when he’s out, without Jamie knowing how he’s doing it. It means that even though Jamie’s a grown man of twenty-three, making more in a month than his dad ever has in a year, he can be humiliated and upset whenever his dad wants.

So he’s avoiding going home sometimes. After games, after training, after video review, after pints with the lads... He pulls sometimes, but the first time a girl’s got a roommate and he has to tell her they can’t just go to his to fuck (because he’s scared, pathetic), he stops trying quite so hard to get laid.

If the team still had a shrink, maybe he’d talk to her about it. Probably not, though. He’s already run through all the possibilities about a hundred times: pick a fight with his dad, call the cops, shut up and deal. Two of those options stand a pretty high risk of the world finding out, and frankly he’s had his share of bad headlines for the year, so he goes with the third option. He handles it.

Nothing new there.

The new thing rears its head about a month and a half after that fucking Man City game. Jamie’s stayed behind in the gym after practice for a bit of extra cardio (one plus: he’s in incredible shape these days), and Roy Kent lives up to his player chant by appearing out of thin goddamn air in the two seconds Jamie looks away from the mirror to take a drink of water.

There’s some cussing on both sides (Jamie shouldn’t goddamn wear himself out, Roy should wear a bloody bell if he’s gonna sneak around in the dark) and Jamie doesn’t totally understand how he ends up trailing Roy out of Nelson Road, into the passenger seat of Keeley’s car (he tries not to feel insulted that Roy’s got driving privileges that he himself had never earned), and back down the familiar road to Keeley’s place.

Conversation in the car is limited to Roy’s (hot, goddamn it) growls and insistence that Keeley wanted them to wait for her before talking. Jamie curses at him, but his heart’s not really in it. He leans against the glass and watches dashed lines on the roadway disappear from view under the car, one after the other.

Back at Keeley’s, Roy is blunt when he accuses Jamie of trying to practically move into Nelson Road, and if that old ballsack of a father he’s got has gone and done anything to his home, Roy’s going to fucking kill him. It’s all very... very, and Jamie feels like a total tit admitting that, essentially, he’s allowed himself to be terrorized by shit.

Keeley says he’s not a pussy for not wanting to deal with this. She’s being nicer than Jamie can handle, they both are, and it’s fucking weird and maybe Jamie hasn’t been sleeping well, because he can actually feel his eyeballs getting all hot and fucked up like he’s going to cry, but he absolutely won’t cry.

They bully him into staying with them just until he can figure out if he wants to move or anything. He lets himself be bullied. It might be torture for him, staying with the woman he’s in love with and the man that she loves (who he may or may not have accidentally created some early sexual fantasies about by virtue of bad poster placement in his old bedroom), but. Well, Jamie’s tired and they’re hot.

So he stays with them. Keeley wakes up later than either Roy or Jamie, so whichever of the boys is up first will go on a coffee run, and the other gets a start on breakfast, and eventually Keeley wanders down in fluffy pink slipper-sandals and kisses Roy. The first few days, Jamie looks away to not make it weird. When he’s feeling more like himself, he smirks and asks if she’s got anything for him too, and she winks and says not yet. Roy growls at that as well, and Jamie’s honestly starting to admit that it’s hot as well as scary.

When Keeley needs a bit of time to herself, Jamie somehow ends up spending the night at Roy’s place. They get sloshed and when Jamie wakes up he’s got blue sparkly nails because Roy had broken out Phoebe’s nail varnish. Phoebe compliments Jamie on his nails when he sees her later (and that’s a thing, Jamie’s somehow at a point in his life where he’s eating ice creams with Roy Kent’s judgmental niece?).

The domesticity just! fucking! escalates! and eventually Jamie’s forced to confront the fact that he’s stopped looking for new places to stay. He obviously reacts to this fact by trying to sabotage the good shit he’s got going right now, but (and I swear I’m not writing this!!) Keeley sees right the fuck through him, Roy’s not far behind, and they bully him into a better mood. Sexually. (And he’s OBVIOUSLY got a huge praise kink, and Roy OBVIOUSLY loves humiliating him with safe-sane-consensual love, and Keeley OBVIOUSLY takes advantage of having two fit footballer types at her beck and call, and they all live sexily ever after.)

fin lol

[comedydealer]

i want to focus on the positives. i’m thinking a lot about that previous post i made; it’s rambling, it’s bothersome, and i don’t communicate any of what i’m talking about well enough for anybody who reads to the end to understand - much less, god forbid, try to soothe or help me there.  i was screaming pain and negativity out into the wind with reckless abandon. wasn’t much more than a modern equivalent to a baby crying; god granted, the tears of a baby are usually earned because all the pain they’re experiencing is the Newest Horror to them, but i’m 20, and my life has never been a dream at all, so i can deal with this. and yes, back to being positive, it is getting better. so tantalisingly slowly, but it is getting better, and it’s getting better every day and if i don’t acknowledge that then i’m just spitting on the efforts of all the valuable people in my life. there’s kay - that’s tumblr user helpfool, and she’s just the funniest girl on either side of the planet as far as i’m concerned. i was in the psychiatric ward when she summoned up the real guts and bravery to hit me with a tumblr direct message; now, let the record state that i at least would’ve considered myself a wildly untrustworthy variable at this point. i would’ve judged my own self as seeming a wildly unstable and hugely combustible mess of mental complexes and playlists with mitski tunes on them, real bury me at makeout creek stuff  (quick shoutout to olivia for turning me onto that album a million years ago, xoxo) and even irregardless of all the horrible signs i figured i was putting out, given that i remade my tumblr just because i was more depressed than i’d ever been and i wanted to bathe in painful nostalgia, she still came at me decreeing that mayhaps we could be a friendship and, y’know, i have my huge connection issues that i’ve talked about at relative length thus far on the Angsty Readmore side of this blog but i’m really just glad from top to bottom that i get to talk to kay, and she figured i was worth the time and hell, that isn’t just it. i’ve come to such a greater degree of personal understanding in myself recently; i’ve gotten so entrenched in the adhd side of tumblr, realised that the condition fits me in every fucking way like a glove, and then i found out i was actually diagnosed years ago when i was a fuckin’ teenie and nobody ever told me and honestly, i’m on cloud 9 enough just from realising that my very specific brainmesses and behaviours aren’t Exclusive to Myself, that i’m not some Entirely Unknowable Freakazoid, that i can’t even be especially mad about how dogshit my therapist was when i was like 14  and y’know i’m totally digressing and rambling which is indicative of the condition and the fact that i’m Totally Unmedicated And Always Have Been, Oh Jeez but honestly, i don’t feel too embarrassed or guilty about that at all, and that’s been hugely helped along by this other awesome tumblr blog i’m mutuals with, run by a lady called emily; it’s antagonistchan!  i don’t get nearly as much an opportunity to talk to emily as i’d like, but that’s a lot of me also having some untreated anxiety disorders (having anxiety disorders and adhd means my brain is a veritable fucking tornado of fire which is messy)

and y’know, irregardless of that, seeing emily just speak at length about anything and most everything (including a lot of REALLY educational sims 4 content that i don’t like the posts of enough because i feel like i’d be overbearing, whoops) is hugely soothing and has helped me to just go ‘fuck it’ and talk at length about The Punisher or whatever other dweebo stuff i should’ve just admit i enjoy a long time ago now this post is already long enough as is, it’s about the length of homer’s odyssey, but i gotta say it really is plenty helpful to drown out the painful late night thoughts in a nice attitude of gratitude appreciation session like this  overall, just a far nicer note to head out on than the previous spooky readmore. thanks for reading! i’m actually going to go to sleep and this time it’s no fib

[expensiveminimalist]

It Took One Night - William Nylander (Part 3)

A/N: Here’s Part 3! Posting Part 4 in a couple of days (hopefully) 

Word Count: 2.6k 

Warnings: Swearing, talk of/about sex, talk about friends with benefit, mentions of vomiting (if there’s anything I’ve missed please let me know) 

Part One  Part Two 

Despite what you’d told both yourself and William, the two of you did have sex again that night. Although, for the next week that he spent in your bed, it was strictly anything but sex. You did stuff, there was no doubt about that, but most nights you just snuggled into each other, listening to the other talk and watching Netflix, until eventually you both fell asleep. This new arrangement helped a little, as you were finding it harder and harder to make up excuses for Madison to buy (not that she believed them anyway) as to why William would walk out of your room every morning.

You were enjoying spending time with him, and he was so easy to talk to. He made you feel like you could talk about anything and everything, and you did as you continued to spill your guts about your family a little bit more each night. In a matter of weeks, William had learned that your parents belonged in the 70s, your brother was an insufferable moron who thought everything that came out of your parents mouths deserved a standing ovation and, as a mother’s day present, your sister had left a bag of dogshit on the front step.

Regardless of how much you felt you were rambling and that there were much better things you could be doing together, William never once judged you or ignored you. It felt so therapeutic, getting it all off your chest but it confused you as well – you’d hardly told anyone about the saga of your family, and yet here was William, someone you’d only ever said a few words to, and you told him every ugly detail. He reassured you and most importantly, he listened. He didn’t make you feel like you were boring him or that he wasn’t interested, he genuinely seemed to care about everything you’d been through. You weren’t used to getting that reaction, but it felt nice. And, while things got deep at times, you managed to have a lot of fun with him, wrapped up in your sheets, the sound of whatever show you had on simply background noise to the laughter that he got out of you so easily. Everything was so easy, and you’d be lying if it didn’t scare you a bit. It was like you were waiting for the bad, that inevitable moment where everything became a challenge. For some reason, you could never entirely let yourself enjoy being happy. Your childhood had taught you that was foolish, but for now at least, you were determined to turn a blind eye to the doubt creeping into your mind.

Lately, you’d found yourself getting busier at work. Honestly it was great because it meant more money in the bank and less time to think about your future, the one that you conveniently kept putting on hold since you were clueless about what you wanted to do. You enjoyed working as a barista, you loved being around people and it was the perfect job for that, but it wasn’t what you wanted to do with the rest of your life. You knew you wanted to travel and establish a career, you just hadn’t figured out where or what that was yet. To say your parents were disappointed was an understatement (not as much as your sister, obviously). Almost immediately after you graduated, you’d upped and followed Madison to Toronto, not having a clue what you were doing. The only thing you were sure of was that you wanted to get far away from your overbearing parents and their anguish that you weren’t following your peers (definitely not your friends) to ivy league schools. You’d wanted to get away from that, and Toronto gave you that opportunity.

So, while you would bitch and moan about the rude customers you had to deal with on a daily basis, you’d much rather be here enjoying your independence than living under your parents thumb. Besides, not all the customers were horrible. Although, you weren’t particularly fond of the group of toddlers you’d been continuously cleaning up after for the past hour. One of them had also stomped on your fingers as you tried to pick up a squashed piece of cake off the floor, and it had taken every ounce of restraint for you to not swear at the top of your lungs. As you stood at the sink, scrubbing the dirt from the lovely child’s shoes off your fingers, you looked up to see William standing there, smiling at you.

You didn’t even know that he knew where you worked.

“I’m not stalking you, don’t worry. Mads told me you’d be here” he said, jokingly holding his hands up, trying to sell his innocence.

You laughed at him, “of course she did”.

“Thought we could have some lunch if you’re not too busy?”

You cleared your throat, getting the attention of your boss who was in the middle of making that bratty child a milkshake. You shot her a pleading look, before she sighed and said “go on then”.

William led you outside where you found a quieter spot to sit in the sun, enjoying the fresh air that didn’t have one hint of caffeine in it.

“So, what’s good here? Besides yourself of course”

Rolling your eyes, you replied “Not to sound biased but everything is pretty decent here”.

“What do you feel like? My shout of course”

“Honestly, I could murder a bowl of fries right now. Seriously I’ve been craving fries and ketchup all morning”

“Wow, big spender” he teased, as you playfully swatted at him, feeling slightly embarrassed as your boss came over to take your order.

“What can I get for you two?” Mandy asked, winking at you after she’d looked William up and down, clearly thinking this was a date not just a friendly lunch.

You glared at her while William ordered two bowls of fries, and you realised you didn’t exactly sell the food here well.

“You know you could’ve ordered something nicer right?” you said, as Mandy walk away with a smirk on her face.

He poked his tongue out at you, “hey the fries must be really good here if you felt like killing for them”

“Obviously I wasn’t being serious. But yeah, they are pretty incredible” you shot back.

William just laughed at you, while you couldn’t help but just stare at him. Why did he have to be so good looking? Seriously, the way the sunlight hit him wasn’t fair.

You weren’t sure how long you were staring at him, but you were grateful that Mandy had fast-tracked your order and was on the way with your fries and ketchup.

God they smelt so good. Better than normal, actually.

It didn’t take long for you to dive into the bowl of fries, savouring every lick of ketchup that came along with them. If it was an option, you’d genuinely consider marrying fries on account of the fact that they always made you stupidly happy.

“Enjoying yourself there?”

Shit. You’d actually forgotten William was there, that’s how wrapped up you were in your food.

“Mhmm” you mumbled through a mouthful of potato. How ladylike.

“So, have you got any plans tonight?”

You knew where he was going with this.

“Honestly, I’m surprised you’re even asking considering you’ve invited yourself over every night for the past couple of weeks” you teased.

“Hey I was just being polite, don’t want to overstay my welcome” he said, winking at you.

“Don’t you have a place to live? Cause last time I checked you did, and it was a hell of a lot nicer than the dump that Madi and I live in”

“Um I do, but there isn’t a gorgeous girl there that likes to watch shit tv shows and cuddle up to me every night” he chirped.

“Insulting my tv shows is not gonna get you another invite into my bed”

William smirked at you, “ok, I’m sorry for telling the truth”.

“Yeah ok, you can come over tonight but just so I can make you suffer through hours of my ‘shit shows’. Unless you have a problem with that?”

“Not at all”.

It’d been almost another whole week of William staying over every night, and you were starting to question what was actually going on with the two of you. Since the night of the party you’d only slept together a handful of times, but every night he was snuggled up in bed with you. If you were being honest, you weren’t interested in a relationship right now and, for some reason, you didn’t think William would be either. He had a lot going on his life, as did you, and, after the failure of your last relationship, you weren’t in the mood to be anyone’s girlfriend for a while. It was becoming clear to you that you needed to talk to William, make it clear to him where you stood and how you felt. Maybe you could just be friends with benefits?

So, when William came over to spend yet another night with you, after having sex again, you decided to just spit it out.

“So, what is this?” you asked, tracing patterns on his bare chest.

“What is what?” William asked, a bemused look on his face.

For fucksake.

“I mean, what are we doing?”

“Well we just had sex which I personally thought was pretty fucking amazing, but if you’re not sure what it was” William chirped at you.

“No not that, trust me I knowwhat that was. I just mean, what is this thing going on between you and me?” hoping he’d finally understand what you were getting at.

William wrapped his arms around your shoulders, squeezing you tightly as he replied “well, I guess you can say that we’re getting to knoweach other”

“Can you be serious for one second please?” you said, the lack of patience showing in your voice.

William looked at you, finally realising you weren’t in the mood for joking around.

“Ok, I’m sorry. Look I don’t know what this is but I’m really enjoying hanging out with you. Seriously, you’re pretty fucking awesome”.

You couldn’t help but blush.

“I’m really enjoying hanging out with you too, it’s just…” you trailed off.

“What?”

You took a deep breath and sat up so you were leaning on your elbow, looking William in the eyes.

“I’m probably getting too far ahead of myself but I just need to put this out there”.

William nodded, albeit looking slightly concerned.

“I’m not ready to be someone’s girlfriend ok? And it’s totally fine if you weren’t even thinking along those lines but, I need you to know that I need a break from relationships, I just want to enjoy being single for a while. It’s nothing to do with you seriously, and I meant it when I said I’m really enjoying spending time with you, but I just want it to stay like this, I guess?”

“Stay like this?”

“The talking, and the cuddling, and the sex. Not having any strings attached”

The confusion on William’s face was obvious, and clearly hard for him to hide.

“So, are you saying that you want to see other people as well as this?”

Shit. You’d never actually thought about how you’d answer that.

“I mean it’s not something that I’ve thought about but if you wanted to then, honestly I wouldn’t mind”.

“Ok then”

You looked at William, noticing the tone change in his voice.

“I’m sorry if that’s not what you wanted to hear but I just wanted to be honest with you. You deserve that” you said, entwining his hand with yours.

“Seriously, it’s not a big deal. Don’t stress about it”.

Evidently, it was a big deal since as soon as you’d finished talking he rolled over and went to sleep, ignoring you for the rest of the night.

When you woke up in the morning, you rolled over to find the other half of the bed empty. William always waited for you to wake up until he left.

Jesus Christ.

You weren’t in the mood to deal with him being pissed off because he didn’t a) get what he wanted or b) actually tell you what he wanted.

When you came home from work that night, you hadn’t heard from William once the entire day. So, you spent the night in bed alone, furious that he was off sulking like a child. You couldn’t deal with men sometimes. Why is it always that men say women are moody? Have they met themselves?

But, that’s how it was for the rest of the week.

You ended up texting him, deciding to be the bigger person and invite him over to watch some movies with you, Madison and Lyla. Surprisingly, you got a response but all he said was that he already had plans with friends. Whether it was true or not, he couldn’t have made it anymore obvious that he didn’t want to see you - or so you thought.

On your lunchbreak the next day, you scrolled through your Instagram as you usually did only to see that William was with Madi and Lyla at your flat. Correction, nowhe couldn’t have made it anymore obvious.

Fuck it. If he wanted to act like a child, then two could play at that game and you’d always been an expert at ghosting on people. So you decided that for now, you didn’t know anybody called William. If Madison or Lyla mentioned that name, you’d assume they were talking about Prince William. There was no way in hell you were going to go and grovel at his feet just because you didn’t tell him what he was obviously hoping to hear. Besides, you’d said you wanted to enjoy being single so that’s exactly what you were going to do. You could set up your tinder profile again, try going on a few harmless, one off dates. Treat yourself, go wild.

Except, the universe was making it hard for you to schedule any dates. You’d been working overtime since one of the other barista’s, Kim, had gone on maternity leave and Mandy still hadn’t found anyone that she liked to take over her shifts.

On top of that, you were feeling incredibly tired. You were always tired after a long day on your feet but this was a new level of exhaustion. Plus, your breasts were hurting a lot, to the point where in the middle of serving a customer, all you wanted to do was massage your breasts to stop the soreness. You would’ve, if it wouldn’t have meant trying to explain yourself to both the customer and Mandy. You being you, deciding to ignore it, figuring that it would stop after a while anyway.

It didn’t.

At the start of your morning shift, you got a whiff of fried bacon and the next thing you knew, you were in the bathroom puking your guts out. Aromas of food never made you throw up, generally they brought you joy and made you feel light on your feet. Surely it couldn’t have been the smell of bacon that made you sick, so you wracked your brain trying to recall what you’d eaten for dinner the night before. Bingo. Madi had cooked something with chicken in it, so you probably had food poisoning. It was definitely that. Madi had cooked you both dinner, and the food she made was questionable at the best of times so it made sense.

It did make sense. Only, you’d forgotten one thing.

You were very, very late.