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youn9racha · 2 years

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Sundress

pairing: bff!seungmin x bff!reader

genre: smut

synopsis: seungmin is not good at hiding his feelings for you, you pretend to be oblivious but you knew all along, especially when you heard him jerk off at the thought of you one time. you deviced a plan to rile him up upon remembering his rant about sundresses and you went ahead with it.

warning: reader has a vagina and uses she/her, cunnilingus, referenced perv!seungmin, bffs to lovers (?), public sex, dom!seungmin, sub!reader, edging and cockblocking, pantie snatching (?)

words: 3.1k

a/n: I've written this while i was going through some tough shit (still do) but i'm fine so dw about me 🤪🤪 anyhow, this piece is not really my proudest, but I haven't made any seungmin fic,,, like at all, i only got a timestamp, and that is merely it, so cheers to that hehe 👹👹 anyways hope y'all enjoyed it

This is no way representative of the way Stray Kids act. They’re nothing but references of character, and in no shape or form is this how they act. And I am in no way romanticizing or glamorizing any toxic behavior exhibited, they’re just stories that is meant to be read. Readers discretion is advised.

You knew this would drive Seungmin crazy.

The way your sundress teasingly revealed your back, your cleavage poking through, the straps complimenting your shoulders and glowing skin, your hair cascading prettily across your face, the fabric clings into your body deliciously with your hard nipples poking through—going braless was essential and it was not only because of the fact the dress was backless. You knew that Seungmin would go weak for it, if you could, you would fuck yourself if you were in his place, but you intended for him to do the job.

“Why are you dressing up for him in this fashion?” one would ask, well to make a long story short you’ve heard him moaning out your name one night when he “called in sick” one day, and as what a good friend would do, you brought in some food and medicine to help him with his so-called illness, except that he needed a different type of care that he could never vocalize.

You’ve sensed that Seungmin had a thing for you but almost always pushed it to the side because you thought you were overthinking, but after hearing Felix and Jeongin talking about his crush on you, and also secretly witnessing that one session he had, you thought your theory was right. And you remembered this one instance about how he went on a tangent about sundresses and how he’s convinced that they’re god’s creation.

“I want to thank whoever thought of sundresses,” Seungmin randomly blurted, making you knit your eyebrows.

“Why is that?”

Seungmin looked at you as if you cursed at him, “are you fucking kidding me? It’s just the perfect outfit a girl could wear, the way it’s cute and simple yet so enticing and sexy, just—phew”

He huffed and shook his head as if he was out of breath in disbelief. He later muttered something afterward, which you couldn’t exactly match what he said but assume that he was continuing to admire the article of clothing.

“I want to fuck you in it…”

“What?”

“I said, they’re fuckable.”

You would giggle at the memory; you should have seen it coming. You applied your sunscreen before putting on light make-up and adjusted your hair and dress one last time. Seungmin was waiting for you outside your house in his car, with his picnic sets sitting in the backseat as he fiddled his fingers. He was nervous, if not showcased by the way he was twiddling his fingers on the steering wheel. He doesn’t know why he feels that way, it’s not like you do anything special. He always saw you as his stupid friend; a stupid hot friend who he wishes he could hear you say his name like a prayer as he pounds you—

“God dammit, Seungmin, get your shit together that’s your friend!” Seungmin mutters himself as he slaps himself repeated as he repeats words to remind him that this was a platonic picnic. He kept doing his odd movements until he heard a knock on his window, which ultimately made him stop and look at whoever knocked. It was you, smiling at him bewilderedly, which made Seungmin widen his eyes in fear as he realized that you’ve seen him hitting himself like a weirdo.

“Shit,” he cursed to himself as he fumbled with the lock button to unlock the passenger door for you to get in. As you open the door, you greeted him excitedly and went in to hug him, he caught a glimpse of your dress, and oh, man, does he look red. Especially when he sees the backless part where it exposed have of your back and then your full cleavage after pulling away, he felt like he was losing his mind.

He began staring unknowingly down at your chest, which means your plan was working, but you still had to play your oblivion.

“Are we ready to go or…” You spoke up as you pulled your seatbelt and Seungmin’s gaze away from your chest. He shook his head and blew a raspberry as to snap himself out of it, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

“uh, uh, yeah, let’s go!” Seungmin cringed at his pathetic stammers but he couldn’t help it, not when you’re teasing him like this.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes! Yes! I’m alright! I’m cool, what about you?” Seungmin smiled nervously at you. You almost smirked at his nervousness, but you didn’t want to ruin your plan yet so you had to keep your head in the game so you can get the prize at the end.

“Yeah, I’m fine… just waiting for you to drive…”

“Oh, right!” Seungmin jumped at his idiocy as he began turning the key so he could start the car, the sound revving to indicate that it was working, and off Seungmin drove.

He handed you the aux cord as he encourages you to play your music, which you happily took. Seungmin loved your diverse music taste and he didn’t mind listening to anything you played, even if it’s from a genre he doesn’t typically enjoy, if you like it, he likes it.

This is perhaps the only innocent thing he thought of you thus far, only for it to be interrupted as he sees through his peripheral vision you leaning back in the chair, head placed upwards to the headrest, legs up at the dashboard, exposing your pretty legs as your dress slides down slowly, almost as if gravity was helping you teasing him. You rolled the windows down, letting the cool air hit your face as you allow it to blow back your hair. You breathed and sighed loud, followed by a slight pleasing moan at the feeling of relaxation.

You knew what you were doing, this was a part of the plan after all. You weren’t sure if Seungmin figured it out or not, but seeing how his knuckles turn white and how he slightly shifts his seat every time he takes a quick glance at the side view mirror—or rather you—tells you that you were on the right track regardless. Seeing him struggle at concentrating on the wheel ahead of him is exactly what you wanted to see.

After a few minutes of driving while the music was playing in the background as you two have small talk, Seungmin parked his car as you two arrived at the destination. He took you to a secluded part of the park for you two to have your moment and just relish it—a moment that is going to be an interesting one.

You two got off the car and started setting up the picnic. Seungmin picked the basket from the backseat as he turned to face you, and there he saw you crouching down as you set the picnic mat down. You got on your hands and knees as you smoothed out the mat, leaving Seungmin standing there staring at your ass. Your slight arched back made Seungmin’s head wander into dangerous territory, wishing he could push up your dress and just fuck you right there but all he could do is gulp and shake his head as he went around you and sat down on the mat.

Not too long after the odd yet heated tension you’ve created, you two wounded up eating the food you two brought, reminiscing about old memories, and just having a philosophical discussion from time to time, like;

“You really think that orange Fanta is the best soda when a whole ass sprite exists?!”

“Sprite?! Are you out of your fucking mind, Seungmin?! Who the fuck aside from you thinks sprite is the superior drink?!”

“Many people! More people than you’d think!”

And that was just the tip of the iceberg. Sure, you two have this lustful attraction that was quite evident in the air, but you two have yet to make a move on each other and thus carry on the “platonic” schtick you two would showcase. After the whole discourse died down, you two went back to the silence you two had in the beginning, but this time the tension was getting hotter by the second.

You two weren’t doing remotely anything, aside from you laying on the ground with your legs propped up with a book in hand reading the content it had. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to curse at himself or pat himself on the back, as he was sitting right next to your legs, with just a turn, he could witness your panties that failed to be concealed by the dress, especially when you lifted your knee upwards. The words in his book seem to be faded as he couldn’t help but his eyes focused on the lace that is trapped between your legs.

If he looked even closer, he can almost see a small dark spot in your panties, indicating a wet stain than anything. He gulped as he saw you clenching your legs from time to time, your hips slightly quivering as you carried on reading your book. He knows that your book contained smut in it as you were open about buying it just for that reason, which he ultimately assumes that you’re getting turned on by the scene you were witnessing.

While it wasn’t a lie, the only reason why you reacted that way is that you imagined yourself and him in that scene. The two characters were almost in a similar situation, two friends sitting at a park and hanging out, only for one thing leading to another, and these two “friends” were fucking right against the tree. You breathed through your nose as you got your legs together, while Seungmin just examined your movements and smirked behind the hardcover.

“Is something wrong?”

Seungmin abruptly spoke, letting the cover go off of his face, showcasing his delicate yet sharp jaw. You were really immersed in the story that you didn’t pay attention to the actual Seungmin speaking to you. Rather than call you out, instead, he closed the book and faced you, his hands reached to your knees and placed them there as he leans towards your legs. Your eyes widened behind your book as suddenly you couldn’t read the words, and instead feeling the pressure within your lower of your legs.

You lowered your book to only reveal your eyes, looking up at Seungmin, whose head was hovering over your knees and smirking at you. He stroked your shins, as he asked the question you’ve ignored.

“You didn’t answer me, (y/n),” he spoke softly as he pried your legs open just slightly so he could have a better look at you, “what’s wrong?”

While this wasn’t the plan you initially thought of, you were flustered as hell and glad to be as you were now witnessing a side of Seungmin, you never saw. His eyes were glazed with a dark lustful aura to them, fire inflamed within them as his salacious hunger increased. Seeing how the book was used as a shield to your face, he knows it was a weak one given by how he grabbed the book and discarded it somewhere else, making you feel exposed to him.

“Finally, I can see that pretty face of yours.”

His voice rasped as his fingertips grazed the side of your face as he traces your cheekbones and jaw. You sighed in through your nose as you looked at him with pleading eyes.

“Seungmin…” you only managed to say that out loud as a response, but that alone made Seungmin leans down and kissed you with such vigor, a silent “took you long enough” type of passion, especially with the way your lips molded perfectly with his. His tongue and yours made contact as it started to heat up, the fire within your loins started to ignite even bigger than it started, and Seungmin added more fuel by teasingly grinding his trouser-cladded crouch within your wet heat, making both of you groan at the sensation. Your skirt has since risen, that had it not for your panties, nature itself would have seen your lower half naked body, exactly what you like to see, especially with the man who’s currently ravishing you.

“Min… fuck me… please fuck me…”

Your pleasured muttering made Seungmin pull away with a teasing expression painted on his face. His raised brow tagged with his braces-covered teeth poking through his half smile created a menacing mixture of thoughts in Seungmin’s head, the way you were heavy breathing, even though barely anything happened, underneath him while being outside where anyone could see them in this state made him want to go crazy. Granted, they were in a secluded spot, thus the chances of them getting caught were being seen by anyone are slim, but the sheer thought of Seungmin making you a moaning mess where anyone could hear you made him harder even more than he was earlier in the car when he saw your dress or you squirming at the smut you were reading.

Seungmin wasted no time as his hand went down to your hips and started to strip your panties, and while doing so, Seungmin started to speak.

“You have no idea how much I wanted this, (y/n),” he started as he stared into your eyes while fidgeting with the elastic of your underwear, “how bad I wanted you to be bent over for me, how bad I wanted to mark you, make you say my name like a prayer,” his fingers wrapped around the sides as he began removing the garment, “how badly I wanted to make you mine…”

Once he fully removes your panties, exposing your glistening labia to him made him hiss and smile, “fucking hell, (y/n), your pussy looks better than what I have imagined.”

His vulgar language astounded you, as you never would have thought that he would say that to you, let alone anyone. He didn’t have the cleanest mouth per se, but he doesn’t often say anything dirty so hearing him say what he said shocked you and turned you on as shown by the way you clenched to him.

“Aw, is my best friend getting turned on by me complimenting her pussy? you’re so cute,” he cooed, but it didn’t have an ounce of gentleness in his tone whatsoever. His fake gentle smile faded into a dark expression which made you gulp at the switch of faces.

“I know what you’ve been up to,” he glowered as he got down to kiss the sides of your legs, “you knew what you were doing the dress, you knew that I’d go crazy and you just want to fulfill your sick fantasy of humiliating me…” each time he spoke he would go lower and lower, making you breathing heavily as you begged and pleaded for him, even mixing in a few “apologies” to him, which he would snicker in response at your pathetic actions.

“You’re sorry now? Guess what, (y/n)?” His lips were dangerously close to your heat as his breath was hitting it, “you’re gonna do as I say instead, you got that?”

The question was rhetorical as before you answered, his tongue began doing its movements within your slit and up to your clit, making you gasp and moan at the feeling. You didn’t doubt it from him, but your expectations of his skill in cunnilingus were exceeded thanks to his tongue. He started painfully slow, which made you grind on his face by bucking your hips. He didn’t like that so he held your hips down by his arm, making them static by his force.

The pace of his tongue began speeding up, making the volume of your whines even higher, calling out for Seungmin and stating how good you felt. You were ecstatic at how your fantasy was becoming a reality, the only thing missing was him stretching you out with his erected cock, which you hope would happen eventually, but you know you wouldn’t get it that easily especially not when you’ve angered him.

“Seungmin… please… I’m so close… fuck—“

Seungmin ignored as he continued with his feast on you, his face nodded as he tries to grant you more pleasure. You felt your climax approach, making you squeal as you felt yourself getting close until he suddenly stopped his movements and got his head up.

You couldn’t see him, due to you closing your eyes at the previously blissed-out feeling, but you began whining at him pulling out, and begging him to continue, only for him to shush you and covers your mouth, making you open your eyes wide in bemusement. You see him look to the side as he hears what he assumed were people walking and talking. The steps were getting closers and the voices were getting louder so he tells you to get up so you can leave.

Fearing that they were the footsteps of police officers, the two of you didn’t bother to clean up yourselves and just started packing up your picnic quickly. You noticed your panties were missing and started to look for it, only for Seungmin to tell you to not worry and get in the car.

Pouting, you got in the car with him and began driving off. You looked at the people who happened to be walking closer in your direction; they were a middle-aged couple walking around holding hands. You sighed in relief as you confirmed to Seungmin that they weren’t cops but a couple, which made Seungmin react the same way.

While bitter that you two packed up and left for nothing, you still were glad that a portion of your dream became a reality, and sort of got what you wanted. However, sitting in Seungmin’s car without panties made you feel odd and timid, in contrast to you earlier on your way to the park where you had your legs up in the dashboard, not caring—or rather hoping—if Seungmin caught a glimpse or not.

Seungmin could only chuckle at your stance, which made you knit your brow, “what’s funny?” you half-retorted with a pout and crossed arm.

Keeping one hand on the steering wheel, he reached down to his pockets and out he reveals your undergarment making your jaw drop—the cheeky bastard kept in his pocket as further punishment. You tried to snatch it, only for him to place it back in his pocket before you can take it.

“You don’t think this punishment was over, right?” Seungmin darkly chuckled, his car stopped at a stoplight before his eyes, the same dark ones you saw back at the park that made you feel small, met up with yours, making you feel apprehensive.

“This is only the start, just you wait when we get home.”

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light-yaers · 11 months

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Take Care: Chapter Six

Fic Masterpost | AO3 | Chapter List

Warnings: swearing, eventual smut, emotional themes.

A/N: this is my magnum opus. please don’t hate me.

Word count: 8.5k

Chapter Six

As much as you tried to be normal about it all, it was impossible for you not to innately freak out. You slept on yours and Roy’s confrontation for the remainder of the weekend, and when Monday rolled around, you thought about pulling a sickie and not going into work.

Maybe it was just you, but when you felt embarrassed about something of your own doing, you didn’t want to see anyone. Especially not the person who’d seen you embarrass yourself the entire fucking time, in the form of Roy fucking Kent. It was exposing, and made you feel overly vulnerable, on top of still being internally pissed off that he’d gone into this knowing that he was never interested in reading what you’d written. All of it mixed up into a cake that only made you feel sick, so you did the most rational thing that any embarrassed person would do– isolated yourself.

You stayed in your office all week, with the door closed. When you left each day, you made sure you were the last to leave, double checking the corridors for stray players, coaches and Roy himself. In the mornings, you walked a different route to work, one that didn’t follow the main roads around yours and Roy’s part of Richmond. You didn’t want to be walking along and see his Jeep round a corner, only to have to stand there like a twat and catch his eye through the windshield.

“Does a simple misunderstanding really need to get to this level of discomfort?” Rebecca said, over one of your rare but appreciated lunches. She’d lightened up even more after the Everton game, which was a nice side effect.

You crunched down on a mouthful of salad, chewing sullenly. You’d been on edge for days. “I don’t know,” you let out. “Probably not. But I still can’t make myself get over it. I feel fucking awful, I mean— he just said yes to get me off his back, didn’t he?”

Rebecca shrugged. “No one can know with Kent. I don’t think he did it for that reason, though. You said the interview went well?”

“Well, I thought it did, I don’t bloody know. Either way, I’m not submitting the article now.”

Rebecca looked at you with raised eyebrows. “It’s up to you, I know, but if it were up to me, I’d still submit the damn thing.”

“Yeah, well it’s not.” You stuffed another forkful of salad in your gob. You’d heard the same thing from your mother a few days prior, and were debating telling Keeley the next time you saw her, but nothing would sway you with this.

You’d messed up, and you felt mortified that you’d made Roy open up when he wasn’t even interested in reading what you had to say. You were in a position where you were definitely going to take his side into account, even if it meant a standstill for you.

Rebecca’s face softened. She leant closer to you on the sofa, and placed a gentle hand on your arm. “So, you pissed off a footballer. He’ll get over it, and by God, what you’ve written cannot be as bad as any tabloid drivel that’s been written about him before. It’ll be fine in time, you just need to stop beating yourself up about this, alright?”

You sighed through your nose, swallowing the food in your mouth painfully. “Yeah, you’re right. I still can’t make myself face him just yet, though.”

“Why?” Rebecca asked, and the way she was looking at you made you want to open up.

Oh, because I have an immense crush on him that I can’t shake, and I cannot stand the thought that I’ve annoyed him in any capacity.

“It’s nothing,” you said, but it was an obvious lie. Rebecca widened her gaze further, noticing something there. You let out a pent up breath. “It’s my problem. I’ll sort it soon, but I just— I don’t want to crowd him more, especially after last week. I’m being fucking stupid, I know.”

“It’s not stupid to want to make someone feel comfortable. That’s a good trait to have,” she said, squeezing your arm. “Just don’t let it ruin you further when it doesn’t need to.” She smiled at you softly, and you smiled back. “What happened to the girl that chased Roy down for those player profiles in the first week, hm?” she added, trying to lighten the mood. It only made you feel worse, weirdly enough.

“I got to know him,” you said, trying to keep the hurt off your face. “Properly, I mean. I got to know him properly.”

Rebecca’s face perked up with alarming speed. “Oh?” she asked, assumptively.

You waved her off immediately. “Not like that,” you said, but it was clear that both of you knew you were fibbing. Rebecca’s smile only grew. “Not like that.” You reiterated, trying to get yourself across harshly, but it only made it more apparent:

You fucking liked Roy Kent. It was clear to fucking see, and he probably knew it himself, too. That made it all the worse, and embarrassment crept onto your ears immediately.

You shoved another full fork of salad in your mouth, and Rebecca scoffed to herself, amused. The two of you finished your lunch together, with her playfulness counteracting your idiocy. How many more times were you going to make yourself feel childish?

Rebecca cleared her throat. “I get it,” she said. “He’s grumpy, and mean, and I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman who doesn’t want to fix a grey, stormcloud of a man.” She smiled at you sincerely. “Your secret is safe with me.” She winked, and you scoffed so abruptly that an olive from your plate launched itself across her office.

It felt good to have another woman around. You liked it.

You had the weekend to yourself, and stayed in for the sake of self care. You’d face Roy sometime next week, but had to psych yourself up first to deal with it. He’d been training non-stop anyway, with the first threats of relegation for AFC Richmond appearing, despite their win against Everton the week before. It just wasn’t enough to keep them in a stable position, not when the season was over halfway done.

You wanted to call Keeley, but stopped yourself when you remembered she was on a weekend away with some sponsors, getting treated and talking business. You were thankful that you weren’t in her shoes. You knew nothing about PR, nor did you have her same sense of style and immediately approachable personality.

You messaged Sam a few times, just to talk about your latest shared book. He was as sweet over text as he was in person, and even invited you out with the guys on Saturday night— you were tempted, but declined for the sake of stressing yourself out too much. You had a full-on few weeks and wanted to be chipper for the days ahead; you had an assignment due imminently, and your aversion to Roy at the moment was proving difficult to manage work and your personal life at the same time.

You needed to snap out of it. Rebecca was right— it was eating up your time and energy. And as much as you were picturing it badly, you knew that Roy probably didn’t care nearly as much as you did. Embracing your mistakes was all part of learning.

That’s the mindset you adopted when you entered the Dogtrack on Monday morning, just over a week after the team’s win at Everton. You smiled at your colleagues and chatted to them in the cafe in the morning like normal, before you went about your daily routine. You popped your head around the manager’s office a bit later on, and discussed your weekend with Ted, Beard and Nate, before all the players started arriving for training. They sent you smiles and hellos in greeting, and Sam told you about the messy night he’d had on Saturday. All was normal, until Roy stepped into the locker room.

When he caught your eye, the air stilled. The guys around you silenced like school children, and you fought the urge to fake an emergency so you could leave. Roy scanned the room bluntly, before he strolled towards his cubby and dropped his bag on the bench. You sent Sam an awkward smile, before you turned to the Richmond Captain.

He peered down at you for a second, before looking away without a word. “How was your weekend?” you asked, trying to keep things light. Roy didn’t like small talk, but this would have to do.

He growled in response, but you were determined to get something– anything– out of the gruff man before you. He’d noticed your overly avoidant behaviour for one, and you only had yourself to blame for that. “Roy,” you tried again, shooting him a small smile when he peered at you once more.

“You talking to me again, are you?” he replied, and a jolt of electricity ran through your limbs.

The energy in the locker room stalled, as the guys descended into absolute silence at Roy’s response. You felt their stares on your back, and you fucking hated it. You doubted they knew what was up, but had probably had to deal with some weird energy from Roy over the past few days.

“Yeah, I am,” you said, holding your ground. “Are you okay with that?” You raised your brows at him questioningly, strongly, and he reciprocated with a quick scan of your face.

All his prior angst faded away with your simple retort. “Why the fuck wouldn’t I be?” he said, and you felt your chest relax instantly. “I took Phoebe to the zoo on Saturday. Two lions were going at it in the enclosure and I had to tell her they were wrestling.”

You scoffed so hard you almost choked, not expecting those words to fall from his mouth. “She has to learn one way or another, I guess.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want her thinking that sex is like fucking wrestling one another,” Roy said gruffly.

You shrugged. “It sort of is,” you let out hazardously.

Roy perked an eyebrow at you questioningly, an amused smile appearing on his face. “What kind of sex are you fucking having?”

Sam choked beside you abruptly, and you shot your stare onto him quickly, only to find Isaac and Colin smiling at each other like schoolboys behind him. You pointed at all of them sternly, with wide eyes. “Enough.”

Isaac clutched a hand to his chest defensively. “It’s a valid question, bruv. What kind of sex are you fucking having if it’s sort of like wrestling?”

The boys descended into childish giggles, and you turned back to Roy as you tried not to join them. You could feel your cheeks warming as you did, but you loved them all so much that you didn’t care if they were laughing at your expense. It was good to laugh at yourself once in a while.

You inhaled deeply, accepting the embarrassment only for the sake of you and Roy being okay again. He was smiling at you as you fiddled with your fingers. Not that he’d admit it, but this week had gone twelve times slower without your presence breaking apart his time. He’d got used to your impromptu locker room crashes, and the methodical way he always peered around your open door after training was done for the day.

“None,” you finally let out. “I am having no WWE level sex, sadly, because I’m not a fucking Premier League footballer.” You scanned the room and pouted at them all melodramatically, before you headed towards the locker room door with false glumness. Their giggles surrounded the entire room and it warmed your heart.

“We’ve gotta get you on some apps, or something,” Colin suggested, as you turned back to them and leaned against the doorframe.

“Oh yeah?” You crossed your arms. “Which ones?”

“Tinder?” Isaac offered, and you mimed sticking a finger down your throat.

“Please, Isaac. I’m not a fucking teenager anymore.”

“What about Bumble? It allows women to message first,” Sam said, and you furrowed your brows.

“I don’t want to talk first, ever. I’d rather a man send me a shitty pick up line that I don’t respond to than have to do that.”

“Hinge?” Bumbercatch added, and you let out a disgusted laugh.

“Oh, great! I can have three dates with some posh Richmond bloke, engage in awful fucking sex and then be ghosted the next day for no reason. That sounds thrilling.”

“There’s always Grindr,” Colin said, and the room fell silent. All eyes were on him, including your own that were squinting at him questioningly. Colin paused for a moment, like a statue. “Oh, sorry. With all this wrestling talk I forgot that you don’t actually have a dick.”

The room erupted in ooo’s while you tried and failed not to scoff to oblivion. You glanced over at Roy– there was a smile on his face, one that he was trying to hide and absolutely failing at. He shrugged his shirt off quickly, and you sucked in a painful breath, before you forced yourself to look away.

“Maybe I do,” you said bluntly, before you pointed around the room. “And none of you will ever fucking know.” You smiled at the way the boys got all bashful, before you stood up straight and beamed at them all. “Thanks for the dating advice, but I accepted my chronically single fate a long time ago.”

“That’s only because you’ve been around pretentious, uptight writers your whole life,” Zoreaux offered, and a few nods of agreement cropped up around the room. Zoreaux clapped his hands together suddenly, and you flinched in surprise. “You need to find yourself a footballer.”

You rolled your eyes and ignored their childish chants. “Over my dead fucking body,” you said, raising your hands to the sky in defeat. “And this is where the dating advice ends.” You swivelled on your heels and sent them a chaste middle finger, before you made your leave. “Goodbye!” you yelled from the corridor, and were met with one collective Bye!

Roy slipped on his football shirt after you left, and he was thrust back to two weekends before. He knew he’d fucked up with what he’d said in Liverpool, but there was something that kept him from opening up about it all– the fact he avoided everything that was written about him. Every interview, every post match press conference, every fan photo or interaction, the lot.

As much as he felt like a twat, he was also secretly relieved that you’d chosen not to submit the article. He wanted your success, certainly, but he wished you’d picked someone else. It was his fault for agreeing to it in the beginning, which was exactly why you’d got angry and upset. You were right; he’d been harsh, he’d been mean, but he hadn’t expected you to give a shit. Maybe that was more of a commentary about him than about you.

Either way, he was glad to put your week of silence behind him. Having you back in the locker room in the morning felt like coming home.

The days flew by quickly, but you still hadn’t updated Keeley about everything that had happened, and part of you didn’t want to now. She’d been so excited for you, and you didn’t want to break the news to her at all. You put the article behind you, and focused on new projects. With the days whittling down and matches being played in the blink of an eye, it wouldn’t be long until the season was up– along with your time at Richmond. It was funny to call it a year of placement, when in fact it was only nine months, to tie in with the football season.

You’d been at the club for almost six fucking months already. Christmas and the New Year had passed unceremoniously, and when you thought about it all you only freaked out more. You’d been to more matches than you could count, had written more words than you ever had in your entire life, and actually considered a bunch of footballers as your friends. But the worst thing of all– you’d held onto Roy’s jacket for close to three fucking months. He had to have noticed its absence by now, but still hadn’t approached you about it. Nor had you done the right thing by returning it, especially not after your panic in his house the month before.

That’s what you found yourself thinking about over the next few weeks. In between matches and assignment days, you’d lie awake at night and think about the fact it was all going to end. You needed Keeley to tell you to snap out of it, but had been so deprived of her company since she’d become so busy all of a sudden. As the final three months of the season loomed, you barely got more than a few minutes to spend with her at lunch. You hadn’t mentioned the article at all since the incident with Roy, but you were glad that it wasn’t hovering over you anymore like a few weeks prior.

As February ended and March began, you walked to work happily. You’d miss this immensely. Your small flat, your easy walk to Nelson Road, and everyone you got to see on a daily basis. Richmond was definitely part of your life now, and that wasn’t something you were going to forget.

You entered the stadium like normal, but there was an uncomfortable buzz in the air. You smelled it first in the form of static, the kind you get before a thunderstorm. The corridors were quiet as you walked towards your office, void of all players and your colleagues alike. You weren’t overly early, nor had some sickness ravaged through the entirety of Nelson Road, but nevertheless all was quiet.

You strolled into your office. When you switched on the light, you screamed when you were met with the burst of a confetti cannon right in your face. “You’re a fucking writer!” Keeley screamed, as you ducked down to try and protect yourself from this surprise attack. Paper crinkled in the air and all over your hair. It landed on the floor and ceased to move. Glitter covered everything.

Behind her, Sam, Ted and Nate cheered at your terror, while you tried to compute what the fuck was going on. Keeley lunged at you and encased you in a fast hug. You squeezed her back when you came back into your dimension, but confusion rattled in your brain. “Well fucking done, babe! We’re so proud of you!” she exclaimed, and you allowed yourself to accept their excitement, even if you had no clue what she was talking about.

“Ah– thank you?” you let out, alongside a subtle yaaaay that you felt was necessary, when Keeley started bouncing up and down while hugging you. You smiled at her as genuinely as possible when she pulled away.

Sam stepped forward first. “I particularly liked the paragraph where he talked about football academy. It is sweet to imagine Roy so young and less grumpy,” he said, and Ted clapped him on the back in agreement.

“Oh, absolutely, that was a banger.” Ted looked at you and grinned so hard that his moustache moved higher-up on his face. “Now, I don’t hold what Roy said about Beard and I against you, I was just glad to get a mention in this legendary article of yours.”

The smile dropped from your face immediately. You stood up quickly, and turned to Keeley quickly. “What are they talking about?” you asked, but you already knew the answer.

Keeley frowned at you. “Your article, babes,” she said, like you should know exactly what she was fucking talking about. Quickly, she shuffled in her bag and brought out today’s copy of the Independent. It was already open on the sports section, and when she hovered it before you, you stopped breathing.

Your article was on the front page. In huge, bold letters, as clear as fucking day, it read The Roy Kent Effect (and what it can do to a person who knows nothing about football). Your name was on the byline, alongside the photo you’d picked out before to be submitted alongside it.

“I– I didn’t–” you stuttered, trailing off in shock.

“I did,” Keeley said for you. “I submitted it for you, after you let me read it,” she admitted, but the look on her face showed you she was so much less excited about it now. All you saw was red at her admission, to the point where you were torn between screaming at the top of your lungs or crawling into a ball on the floor.

“Will you guys give us a minute, please?” you asked quickly, shooting a wide-eyed and panicked look at Sam, Ted and Nate.

The three of them scattered like rats, and you slammed the door behind them as soon as they were out of your office. Keeley flinched when you did, but your heart was beating too fast for you to notice. All you felt was the wobble in your fingers and pins and needles in your toes.

“What’s going on?” Keeley asked, concerned.

You couldn’t take your eyes off the article. Your words were printed right in front of you, but you’d never been so mad to see something of your own published. “Roy and I had a bad fight,” you started, but the words took so long to form in your brain from all the yells that ratted inside your skull. “He told me he had no intention of reading the article, that he’d never wanted to, and I said–” You stopped yourself from choking on your words. You caught Keeley’s eye, and chose to ignore how much yours were welling up. “I told him I wasn’t going to submit it.”

Keeley gently brought a hand to her forehead, digesting your words. She paced your office slowly, trying to find the right thing to say, but both of you knew it was useless. “I’m– fucking hell,” she said, stumbling over her thoughts. “I’m so fucking sorry.” She turned to you with glassy eyes. “I didn’t know, and I– I just wanted you to believe in yourself–”

“I know,” you said, trying to hold it together. Your anger dissipated into something else entirely, and that something else was on the brink of tears. “I know,” you repeated.

Keeley rushed forward and grabbed your wrists gently. “I’m a fucking idiot and I never should have done it,” she said quickly.

“You’re not an idiot,” you breathed out, before you peered down at the floor. “But, you never should have done it, yeah.” There was no point in beating her up– she’d done something with the intention to help you, without knowing that Roy would react this way and cause shit to hit the fan.

Never before had you gained friends so kind that they did stupid things all for your sake. In any other universe, you bet that Roy agreeing to the article had gone very well, and Keeley submitting it without you knowing had gone amazingly, but here? No. Hell fucking no. In your universe, everything you touched turned to absolute shit when it didn’t need to.

“Fuck,” you said sharply, clamping your eyes shut. A few tears fell and landed on the grey carpet of your office. “Fuck.”

“I’ll tell him,” Keeley said, panicking. “It was my fault, none of this is on you–”

“I wrote the fucking thing in the first place!” you exclaimed suddenly, and inappropriately found yourself laughing. Chuckles bobbed from your chest involuntarily, and with every burst another tear fell from your eyes. This was a mess.

Keeley squeezed your wrists reassuringly, and you forced yourself to breathe out and look at her. When you caught your eye, you sent her a soft look. As your panic subsided, you thought about the fact that she’d submitted it for you because she’d believed in you. She’d done it as a favour, as a gesture to let you know that you were good, that you had potential, to get you out of your head.

You wrapped your arms around her before you could back out. You were thankful for her, even if it had all gone tits up. Laughter trickled from your lips affectionately, and it only made her squeeze you even harder.

“Is now a good time to mention that you fucking won?” she said, her voice muffled by your shoulder.

You laughed even harder, absolutely astounded by it all. Out of hundreds of students, your article had fucking won the entire competition. “I fucking won!” you chuckled out, and the two of you swayed from side to side in each other’s embrace.

You hated not being in control. It was unsettling and made you feel erratic, like everything could fall apart if you didn’t have it all planned out beforehand. As far back as you could remember you’d had this issue; not being able to switch the fuck off. Things needed to be planned, and when they weren’t, you felt sick. Now, times that by ten and add a bunch of hyperactive footballers into the equation. It was a miracle you hadn’t gone into cardiac arrest during your six months at the club. Your masters had been fucked from the start, you’d messed up countless times during the job, and everything with the article was just the cherry on top of a shitstorm.

You sat in your empty office and stopped yourself from yelling at the ceiling above you. After Keeley had left, all your innate foundations came crashing down imminently. You wanted to go home and sleep for the remainder of your placement, but you couldn’t– not now. This mess had been reopened, and you had to clear it up again.

You knew the longer you left it, the worse it would get. Roy and the other boys were due in for training soon, and you couldn’t stand the thought of Roy seeing the article out and about before you’d had the chance to catch him up to speed. Keeley had made a massive fucking oopsie, but you didn’t hold it against her. She didn’t know about your fight, nor had she had the intention to screw things up this bad. That was always the thing, wasn’t it? Intentions were always good, but that didn’t always mean the best outcome was inevitable.

Wracking your fingers through your hair, you puffed out your cheeks with a colossal sigh. It was a waiting game, now. And as soon as you could, you’d tell Roy everything.

Roy slammed through the doors of the stadium for training. He was in no mood to be messed with, and knew that seeing your face would only make it worse. That morning, as he shut his front door, he looked down to see his face on the front page of the Independent’s sport section. Your name was beneath the heading, alongside a smiling photo. He leaned down and picked it up, scanning the title quickly–

The Roy Kent Effect (and what it can do to a person who knows nothing about football).

He growled to himself, before he crumpled the paper in his hands angrily. He stormed towards his Jeep and threw his gym bag harshly onto the passenger seat, before he headed off to Nelson Road. Everywhere he looked, the newspaper article loomed over him. His colleagues in the cafe read it over their morning cup of tea, and promptly froze when they saw him pass. This was he last thing he’d fucking wanted, and he was regretting his decision to ever say yes to you.

You’d reassured him you wouldn’t submit it, so why was it printed in the paper for everyone to fucking read?

He continued to the locker room in frustration. When he entered, the guys stopped the conversation they were having. They nodded at their Captain, before they silently turned back to their cubbies and got ready for the day ahead. Roy tried to ignore the prickling feeling of being watched. He had it whenever he went anyway, but this was tenfold. The thought of people knowing new information about him made him feel overexposed to the max.

Sam approached Roy through the silence, and shot him a sunshine smile. “Morning, Captain,” he said. Roy didn’t respond with more than a quick glance at his teammate. “So, have you seen the ar–?”

“Where is she?” Roy interrupted him suddenly. His voice was coarse and gruff, and Sam immediately recoiled when he sensed the anger seeping through Roy’s pores.

“In her office,” Sam replied, gesturing in the direction of your office innocently.

Roy didn’t stick around after that. He headed to see you as fast as he’d bombarded through the doors from the car park.

Your inbox had been blowing up all morning, along with your Twitter. You hadn’t been able to stomach reading them all yet, as you sat upon your anxiety and tried not to imagine the absolute worst when you saw Roy. Trying to reassure yourself had stopped working after the first ten minutes, and a Google search of ‘how do you un-print an article from a published newspaper?’ hadn’t provided much in the way of help.

Roy didn’t bother to knock. He rounded the door frame and took you by surprise. You sucked in a sharp breath and stood up quickly, meeting his gaze. “Roy, there’s something I need to tell you–”

“You submitted the fucking article?” he said harshly.

You frowned at him apologetically, and gently rounded your desk to stand opposite him. “You saw it,” you started, trying to settle your nerves. “I’m so sorry, Roy. It was a total accident, and it was actually Keeley who–”

“An accident? How is this a fucking accident?” he interrupted you. Upset cut through his aggression, but he was still seething. He pointed at you harshly. “You told me you weren’t going ahead with it. My face is plastered on every fucking newstand around London, and you’re saying it’s a fucking accident?”

You furrowed your brows at his outburst, not expecting him to be this angry. It was a mistake, but he was acting like you’d done this intentionally. “Roy.” You tried not to stumble over your words as rage crept up on yourself. “It was an accident. I’m sorry, but this was out of my control. Keeley submitted it without me knowing.”

Roy balled his fists. “Fuck this!” he yelled, and you took an abrupt step backwards.

“This could have been avoided if you’d just told me the truth!” you hit back with, losing all sense of composure. “If things had gone smoothly, this would have been the fucking outcome all along, and it’s obvious that you never wanted this! This is not just on me.”

“Not just on you?” Roy repeated. “Oh, of fucking course, it’s not just on you, isn’t it?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s always someone else's fault with you.” He raised his arms theatrically as he spoke, trying to expel his anger. “The uni cocked up your placement, I fucked up your first assignment, and now Keeley accidentally submitted an article that has my name stamped all over it.”

“You just stated facts, Roy–”

“But do you know the biggest fact of them all?” he cut over you, before he took a looming step forward. He leaned closer to you, until you could feel the air warm at how heated he was. “You did this. It was your choice to come here when you knew fuck all about the game, about us. It was your choice to write the fucking article in the first place, and it’s your fault that everything has gone tits up–”

“You fucking agreed to this!”

“I didn’t agree for you to get involved in my life!” he yelled, and you let out a colossal groan of frustration. You paced on the spot, needing to just fucking move, to dispell what you were feeling, to get it all out of your system. Roy didn’t back down. This fight, the real fight, had only been growing within both of you from the moment you first met. “I didn’t agree to you walking in here and latching on like a fucking leech, and fucking with my head, and making me feel– all this.”

All this.

Your heart pounded within your chest as his words spilled onto the carpet. This wasn’t just about the article, you realised. This was more. This was the jacket on the peg by your door, and all of the another times, and all of the smiles and jokes and texts that had been rattling between you both for the past six months.

“Oh, I see,” you said, lowering your voice. There was an energy that buzzed between your gazes, one that told you now was a good time to rip off the fucking bandaid, even if it meant the end. “This isn’t just about the article, is it?”

Roy breathed heavily opposite you, his chest rose and fell erratically. His fists were balled at his sides, but his face softened almost imperceptibly. You noticed it. You noticed every look that Roy sent your way. That was why this entire problem had begun.

Him, him, him, him, him.

“Why won’t you let me in?” you caved. “Or fucking anyone.”

“This is fucking stupid—”

“What’s stupid is that you cannot fucking stand when people give an actual shit about you.” You stepped towards him strongly, trying to convey everything you felt within your words. “You do it with the guys, with Ted, and you fucking do it with me.”

“This isn’t a fucking therapy session. I don’t need a fucking uni student to psychoanalyse my thoughts and feelings and all that other bullshit,” Roy said lowly, like a warning.

“Why have you never mentioned the jacket?” you asked suddenly.

Roy’s eyes widened. He stilled. “What?”

“The jacket. The one you leant me after the charity ball. I’ve had it for months, yet you haven’t mentioned anything.” Roy’s thoughts short-circuited. “Not once have you asked for it back, or collected it, or fucking anything.”

“At least I didn’t chicken out while trying to return it,” Roy said harshly. You held your breath. “I saw you shove it in your bag at my house, after the interview.”

You fought the urge to be sick. You weren’t expecting a full read through of yours and Roy’s relationship when you entered the Dogtrack today. You weren’t expecting to be so fucking mad at him, madder than you’d been about anything else in your life.

“I didn’t want this to end,” you admitted calmly, despite the butterflies tearing holes in your gut. “Is that why you never picked it up, hm? Because you didn’t want to admit to yourself that you actually give a shit about someone else?” You kept your eyes on his, flicking back and forth between them as you tried to hold it together. There was a finality to your feelings, and you feared you were approaching the end of their tether. You weren’t one to stick around if you knew you weren’t wanted. Roy had made himself perfectly fucking clear to you. “That’s why you agreed to the article, isn’t it? An attempt to give a shit, but you got scared when you realised people will know you just that little bit better from it. That’s why you’re raging and whining and looking at me like that, and ignoring all the other shit you’re feeling just because it’s easy, and what you’re used to.” The words spilled from your mouth like water. “That’s not how I do things, Roy. I bother, and I care, and I give a shit. And–” you stopped to let out an upset chuckle. Your eyes welled. “I can’t believe I thought we were actually close, when the truth is…” You forced yourself to keep your gaze steady. His eyes inhaled you. “I hardly know you, Roy. And you won’t let me try to, not properly, or on paper, or in the fucking article, even.”

Roy’s brain had stopped thinking coherently as soon as you’d started talking. You were right, you were always fucking right, but he would never let you know that. Not after this, not with the way you were looking at him so desperately, in pleading, baring your feelings out in the fucking open to try and get him to understand. His anger was real, but it wasn’t about you– it was about himself, but that’s just not how Roy Kent worked.

He was mean, he was angry, he was harsh. He didn’t let anyone stomp all over him on the pitch, or in life. Anyone who entered his life and tried to scale the tall walls he’d built around himself was nothing more than a threat. It was unsustainable, and had only brought pain in the past. It explained his string of finished relationships and friendships, and why he was still unsettled at the age of thirty-five.

“I’m sorry about the article,” you said softly. “But, I’m not sorry about everything else. Whether or not you get over it– that’s on you.” You shrugged, before you frowned at the floor. Tears disrupted your vision. You felt defeated, almost.

As the anger disappeared from his shoulders, Roy nodded at you in understanding. There was nothing else to say.

You let out a shaky breath as you looked up, and you decided that time was up. “I have work to do,” you said, as a signifier that this conversation– confrontation, fight, admittal, whatever the fuck you’d just had to endure– was over.

Roy hardly spoke for the rest of the day. Not during training, or during the team’s pep talk before their next match that Saturday. When he drove home, he felt odd in his house alone. All he could fathom to think about was you. Your words, the way you so easily revealed all and told him to grow up. He was overly used to people backing down when he got angry, but you hadn’t let him. You fought back, and had such determination to put him in his place.

It was a refreshing change of pace.

Roy noticed your absence at the game that weekend. The owner’s box was void of your energetic support. Out of a crowd of ten thousand, he could easily pick out your voice above all else– not only for the fact that you yelled like an opera singer, but because he listened out for you, in truth. When the crowd went wild at an excellent tackle of his, his signature chant roared from the stands.

He’s here, he’s there, he’s every-fucking-where. Roy Kent. Roy Kent.

When your voice hadn’t rang out next to all the rest, he glanced up at the owner’s box to find your seat empty. It threw him off his game for the remainder of the match.

The weekend after, you also didn’t attend. Your presence was sporadic after the fight, and Roy found himself enduring the sharp sting of butterflies in his gut whenever he so much as glanced at you in the hallway, or caught sight of you in your office during his workouts. Guilt was not an emotion that Roy often felt, but it had taken over his entire body. It was a slap in the face when you’d laid everything out perfectly, and absolutely judged him correctly. Whether it was projecting, or just being fucking stupid, his anger about the article stemmed from something much bigger. You saw straight through him, and that was what terrified him.

Word of your fight had spread across the team. He knew as soon as the guys started looking at him differently– with pity. They were careful not to step on his toes, and muttered to each other when he left the room. Your visits to the team were still clockwork, but it was clear to see there was something painful whenever you caught Roy’s eye. You’d smile, you’d say hello, and that would be that. He was surprised that you acknowledged him at all, and had been certain that you’d restart your silent treatment from before, but you were bigger than that. If anything, he wished you’d ignore him, since every stare you gave sent a shockwave of guilt through him.

When you failed to turn up for the third game in a row, Roy bottled it on the pitch. He played poorly, and was overly distracted to play decently. He kicked his boots off from frustration when entering the locker room afterwards, and they smacked against the wall of cubbies loudly. Behind him, Sam and Isaac looked at each other knowingly.

Isaac was the first to step in. “Roy,” he said calmly.

“I get it, I played like fucking shit and lost us the win. I fucking get it,” Roy said quickly, trying to get this over and done with.

“Nah, bruv.” Isaac gently grabbed his shoulder, turning him around to face the rest of the team. “This isn’t about the game.”

“She has never missed this many games before,” Sam said, and the team all shared sullen looks. “We get why that would throw you off, but now it is time to do something about it.”

The team nodded in agreement. “Did you read the article at all?” Isaac asked.

Roy frowned. “Why would I? It’s nothing I haven’t read before.”

Sam moved to stand next to Isaac. They looked at each other quickly, and shared a soft kind of look. Isaac turned back to Roy, and squeezed his shoulder. “Just read it, bruv. Seriously.”

“It is not like the others,” Sam added.

When Roy got home that evening, he opened the top drawer of the side table by his front door. It was full of old post and discarded papers, just stuff that didn’t have a place anywhere else. He’d shoved the copy of the Independent in there after the fight. He hadn’t wanted to throw it away for some odd reason. From the drawer, he picked out the newspaper and clutched in tightly. He got himself a whiskey from the kitchen, and sat at his dining table, before opening it up to the sports section.

His face stared back at him judgingly. Donned in his Richmond shirt with his foot on the ball, there was a steely look that had been captured in time on his face. He remembered that day– the first game of the season, where they’d been fucking battered. Beneath it was the article, in all its glory. The words loomed on the page almost scarily, but Roy told himself to get over it.

He inhaled deeply, and then started to read.

The Roy Kent Effect (and what it can do to a person who knows nothing about football)

The first fact I came to realise, working at AFC Richmond, was that Roy Kent is a legend. He was only nine when he was scouted for Sunderland, and he grew up loving the greats– Robbie Fowler, Paul Ince, Gary Neville– but his favourite footballer falls to his namesake; Roy Keane. ‘He didn’t take crap from anyone,’ Roy tells me, over a beer in his Richmond house. It’s full of sports memorabilia, trophies, awards, shirts, that I’m sure any fan of the beautiful game would whimper at. For me, however, it goes straight over my head.

It’s impossible not to feel the gravitas of being in Roy Kent’s home, but I feel it’s wasted on someone like me. I wouldn’t consider myself a football fan, but having been AFC Richmond’s appointed social placement for three months, it is a world that I’m desperately trying to enlighten myself on. Roy knows that, which is probably the only reason he’s let me grill him about his past, despite his very public opinion on the press.

Roy looks nostalgic when he thinks of his initial training. ‘You’ll never know how cool I felt when I was twelve, going to a football academy with the likes of world class players. My life was laid out as soon as I signed on the dotted line, and from the age of fifteen it was obvious I was going to be signed at Chelsea,’ he recounts like it was yesterday.

‘Chelsea. I think I know that team,’ I say, and all it does is make me seem more stupid. Roy shows me he doesn’t mind when a smile appears on his objectively grumpy face, and it eggs me on to try and make the footballer laugh as much as I possibly can throughout this interview. Having been at Richmond for almost half a season now, I know that the boys work hard. Making them laugh is part of my job description, just to break apart the obvious stress they all feel about the rest of the season.

Lasso’s reign is something new that none of them were expecting, and Roy’s face sours slightly when I mention his name. ‘You know Ted just as well as I do, you tell me what you think is going to happen?’ Roy says, and I comically mime locking my lips and throwing away the key. It’s best not to let people who know nothing about this game comment on what could happen at the end of the line.

From his start at seventeen, Roy Kent was a Chelsea staple. He donned that bright blue until his thirty-third birthday, which is when he made the decision to leave. He headed to AFC Richmond soon after. Even though I know nothing, I’m curious to know why he made such a career altering decision– going from the top, to the literal bottom. AFC Richmond haven’t got higher than 18th place in the Premier League in six years. It was practically moving to an alien nation.

‘I’d been at Chelsea for more than a decade,’ Roy starts, and I can’t help but notice the tension on his jaw, covered by his signature beard. ‘It had become routine, my life. The guys were stellar, and the management. Everything was the same, except me.’

‘You mean… your ability?’ Roy nods almost severely, and it’s easy to understand what he’s getting at. It’s then that I get up and grab us another beer. Roy makes it very easy to feel at home, despite someone prodding into parts of his life that he hasn’t spoken about publicly very often. He speaks highly of his sister, and his niece. Family is a large part of what makes him the man he is, one that drags him away from football when he needs to be reminded of other things that make life beautiful– not just the game.

Since arriving at Richmond, I’ve heard a phrase within the walls of the Dogtrack; the Roy Kent Effect. His teammates say it when they nail a play in training. Lasso and Beard say it when Roy makes things easier for their NFL suited brains to understand. His hamstrings say it when he withstands another sports massage from the club physio.

The Roy Kent Effect is a household name at AFC Richmond, only becoming so alongside Roy’s arrival at the club two years prior. When I mention it to him, Roy leans back in his chair and smiles. Yes, he can smile! ‘They’re good lads, the Richmond lot. I see myself in a lot of them. Obisanya, McAdoo, they all work so hard. It’s an honour to be their Captain, but I don’t steer the ship on my own.’

‘I don’t think that’s what the Roy Kent Effect means. It’s not about you leading them.’ I say, and this is the only time I’ve ever felt smart when it comes to football, especially next to the likes of Roy.

Roy leans forward. He likes to show people when he’s listening to them. It only elevates the notion that he knows there’s always something for him to learn. ‘The Roy Kent Effect isn’t anything you do, it’s simply having you around. You’ve been a role model, a leader, a staple of the game, for more than ten years. There’s admiration there, and that’s what they want to show you. That’s why they perform, and overachieve, and kick the ball like their life depends on it. It’s for them to show you how much you mean to the sport.’

He sits with my words silently, as I juggle with the panic I feel at making Roy Kent speechless for once. This will never happen to me again.

It’s only then that I realise the Roy Kent Effect has hit me, too. It’s why I annoyed him for this interview. It’s why I research, why I show up for work everyday, despite knowing very little in the grand scheme. When I learn something new, Roy’s the first person I tell at the club. I fit it into conversation, but he always notices. The other’s are often amazed when I reveal I know a fact, or understand the sport more, but Roy doesn’t make a big deal of it. It’s another reason why I don’t stop. He pushes me, the same way he Captains his team, directs his managers, and plays the damn game– with thought, with care, putting one foot in front of the other, like he’ll drop dead if he doesn’t keep this up.

‘One day I’ll wake up, and without knowing, it’ll be the last day that I ever play football,’ he says, later on. Roy has changed our beers to whiskey. ‘From your perspective, you think football is just a game. But, it’s not for me. It’s my whole life.’

We talk about the possibility of what lies beyond the sport, of what is out there for Roy after his inevitable retirement, but he doesn’t seem to understand that there is more that lies beyond. It’s impossible not to take it to heart. I spend the latter half of the interview trying to slot my feet into his shoes, and I still won’t ever know how it feels to be Roy Kent. Even Roy doesn’t know, which makes me strike off every tabloid photo, pundit quote and incel tweet that’s ever been shared about the Richmond Captain.

He is often described as blunt, harsh, mean, angry, and all of those traits are definitely true. But, the man that sits before me, after welcoming me into his home, his world, his life, is so much more than than. This is the Roy Kent Effect in full force, and I, amongst thousands of others, will not take it lightly when he leaves football behind for good.

“Fuuuuck,” Roy breathed out slowly. The butterflies in his stomach had disappeared.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Tag list: @atjamesbbarnes @20th-centu-fairy-girl @royalestrellas @weakmoony-stuff @ironmanmagnetfridge @lemonpiegurll @hellomagicalsouls @her-fandom-sanctum @gothicwidowsworld @old-enough-to-know-better73 @djarindroid @afraidofshrimp @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog @queen-of-dumbasses @sogoodtoheritsvicious @lznnph1l @crav1ngc4ke @onceuponaoneshot @jamieolivia27 @dadbodfanatic-x @kelp-dreaming @harrypedro465 @lonely-escape-artist @abeeabeeabee @nicklet94 @libsybum @cha0sdreaming @toomany24s @kashee-h @infinetlyforgotten @secretnook @cluelesslilsharkie @callmecasey81 @deepdarkvelvet @twiceinabluemoon @cardeegans @golden-hoax

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wonwooslibrary · 10 months

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svt as boyfriends ♡ wonwoo edition

member: wonwoo x gn!reader genre: fluff, bullet points :3 word count: 876 summary: wonu's gamer bf era warnings: none !! just know that i am in love with jeon wonwoo. (me saying things like that is what makes it hard to see i'm a junhui ult on this blog) author's note: happy wonwoo day !!!!! summer is about half way over :( but I hope this wonu boyfriend au will make you feel better <3

There is absolutely no way that the Jeon Wonwoo is not the “gamer bf”

I have some very specific thoughts about boyfie Wonwoo so buckle your seatbelts and make sure to keep all hands and feet in the cart while it is in motion

Quality Time

Jeon Wonwoo is the king of quality time!!

He would so much rather just chill with you at home than go anywhere

Hates parties and only goes to them if another member of svt is hosting it because he’ll feel bad if he doesn’t spend time with his brothers

Feels uncomfortable around your friends but will go with you to see them anyway because as long as he’s with you, he’s happy

ABSOLUTELY loves when you ask if you can join him when he is gaming!

If you play games a lot, he’ll be all pouty when you beat him at something like Call of Duty, but if you don’t play games a lot, you’ll be pouty when you find out he let you win at Mario Kart

He would also love to just have cuddle time where he reads his articles online and you just game on your phone, read a novel or something

Words of Affirmation

THIS MAN IS FSDKJFNSDKJ so good at affirmation pls I could sob just thinking about it

He never fails to make you feel worthy, and perfect !

Always compliments you when he’s watching you do something, like if you win a race in Mario Kart he’d be saying something like “I’m so proud of you, good job!” even if it is something simple

He’ll be over the freaking moon if you tell him you got a promotion at work, he’ll go on a rant about how much he loves you and will be on your side no matter what

Do pet names count as words of affirmation bc Wonu is the type to say something like “babygirl/babyboy”, “sweetie” or “sweetheart” aaaaa

Just imagine him being like “good morning, sweetheart” AAAA sorry i’m in love-

Anyway Wonu is amazing at compliments and also loving you

Physical Touch

Is awkward lmao but he will try his best

He would love to rest his head on you, if you’re taller, in between your shoulder blades while back-hugging you, but if you’re shorter, on your shoulders

I can totally see him waiting to hold your hand when you’re shopping, going on dates, or just chilling in the living room

Loves cuddles but would refuse to admit to it

Please let this man be the softie we all know he is !!

Though, even tho he loves being around you and touching you…he always needs his alone time, and you are more than willing to accept that because let’s face it: everyone needs to be alone once in a while

He is such a simp tho, if you ask for even the slightest PDA he goes all out, even if he gets embarrassed about it: he’ll wrap his arms around your shoulders if you’re sitting next to each other in a movie theater or a restaurant

He’ll also 100% playfully push you, like if you tell a really bad joke or if he is pretending to be annoyed with you (we all know he could never actually have any negative feelings towards you)

Acts of Service

Acts of service is totally his calling: he’ll love to do literally anything for you

When you can’t sleep or are sick, you’ll ask him to sing you something to relax you and he’ll sing for hours until the both of you are asleep next to each other

He seems like the type to love doing simple chores like laundry: it keeps him distracted, gives him the alone time he needs, and it helps you out !

As soon as you pull a “Wonu could you do this for me 👉👈 🥺” he’ll be sprinting to make you happy

My favorite Wonwoo act of service is: teaching you how to do things…

This man loves to learn, and who else is he going to share his knowledge with? You want to know better ways to keep your plants alive? He’s got you!

You’re unsure how to make this side dish for dinner? He’s texting you links to twenty different recipes and helping you pick the one you like most

He just loves to interest you in these silly little facts that he hopes would help you with something, whether it be now, or in 10 years

He’s a helpful bean <3

Gift Giving

Uses his money to his advantage (pls stop him before he takes over the world)

If you even mention an article of clothing being cute in a store, you suddenly have one of every color the next day

If you are like “Hey Wonu do you wanna go see __ in concert?”, you best believe that he’s buying you VIP tickets

And when you complain to him that he is spending way too much money on you, he just shrugs

“What else am I going to do with my money? We have a nice place, and I have everything I could want, as well as you, I might as well use it to make you happy”

I love him…

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iohourtime · 9 months

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Ryosuke Yamada: SIDE B - Change

anan 2347

(There is some paraphrasing of the original article. Please let me know if there are any errors.)

Note: This is part 2 of a 2 part interview. You can read “Side A - Expression” here.

Yamada Ryosuke has been involved in various forms of expression, but there is one thing that he has cherished above all. That's the job of an actor. When he participated in his first drama “Tantei Gakuen Q” at the age of 13, he discovered the enjoyment and had been passionate [about acting] since then.

“I simply like this genre of work and this feeling of love has never changed since my first drama. With respect to acting, I have to become someone I haven’t seen or know before, and to do that, I have to think hard about who this person is and why he feels this way. However, the time [thinking about these things] is fun. The feeling is like when I just made a new friend and it is really nice to spend time with that person. I’d wonder about the kind of person he is, and the more I find out, the more interested I am. I think [the process of discovering a new character] is close to that. If this character is a historical figure, I can do research into the history and background of the person; if this character is fictional, I can make it up using my imagination.”

What comes to mind is a character in the movie "Moeyo Ken" released two years ago - Okita Souji, a genius swordsman of the Shinsengumi who is said to have died at the young age of 27. While there is a strong impression of him as someone with a tragic fate, but as played by Yamada san, who smiled innocently as he committed brutal murder without hesitation, his innocence was more intense than his fragility and was realistically portrayed.

“That movie was special. I think a big factor was that I was staying in Kyoto during the filming, so I was able to immerse myself in the real thing the whole time. When I went back to Tokyo, I was only doing group activities or recording variety shows, so there was little time to return to reality, and I felt that my sensibilities were gradually sharpened. I got so caught up in the role that it became normal for me not to drink or eat anything during that time, and I got sick... It was something I have never experienced on set before.”

The reason why he was so absorbed in his acting work was because he had tasted moments that shook him just by thinking about them.

“Just like with today’s shoot and when I was on set, there were moments when the actors, the camera operators, the lighting team, the audio team… and everyone involved were completely engaged as they worked together. It was the best feeling when I encountered these [moments] and I feel like I'm desperately trying to relive these moments again."

Because he valued his acting career, I wanted to ask him about his position as an idol. Perhaps because of this title, there are times when his acting is viewed with prejudice.

“I think it's more because I'm a Johnny's rather than being an idol, but I accept that as my destiny. There are hindrances with being a Johnny's, but on the other hand, there are things I can do because I'm a Johnny's and I think that's a huge benefit. If I don't want others to complain about me, I can only silence the discourse with my abilities. In fact, some of my senpais have done exactly that. On the contrary, it is only due to my own lack of ability that I can not do it. The idea is rather simple."

In the midst of such a conversation, he casually said, "Being an idol may be your vocation."

“Since I don’t know much about the world outside of [the entertainment industry], I won't be able to use [my skills] out there (laughs). However, since I've been an idol for a long time, I'm good at presenting what is needed [of me] in an instant. Although I also have a clear idea of what to do. However, what is asked of me is not always the same, so it is important to keep track of [the requests] and that is quite difficult. If I don't study how to present myself properly, I might not be able to do it. I've been conscious of that since I was small, so I'm good at it."

For example, during a live performance, your image is projected on the large screen at the venue.

“Basically, there are about 15 to 20 cameras installed at a live venue and the “switcher” decides when to cut one camera feed and switch to another. The other day, the switcher praised me, saying, "It's amazing that no matter what situation, no matter where the camera is faced, Yamada kun can find and look at it 100% of the time." I haven't been very conscious of this up till then, but if he said so, it must be true. Nowadays, cameras have a light that turns on when it is live, so the moment it lights up, I can find it in about a second no matter how large the venue. I want everyone at the venue to enjoy the show equally, whether they are sitting in the front row in the arena section or at the stands at the back of the dome. When [the camera] happens [to face me], I can interact through it so it can be seen by a lot of people, and I think that will be fair to everyone who has come [to the concert]. So when I think about that (including the technique), I feel that [being an idol] is my vocation."

However, he has been active since his early teens and there were times when he resisted being an idol.

“But it's work. It's amazing to know that there are people who are happy because of our hard work, right? I've thought about quitting several times in the past, but I still haven't quit, so I guess that's what I want to do after all."

He is the type who obsessively pursues things that he likes from the start. Gaming is something that exemplifies this. Among the games he’s enthusiastic about is "Apex Legends" and he reached the highest rank of Predator in February this year. Only the top 750 players in the world can attain the Predator rank. [T/N: Ignoring the 14+ hours of live streaming when he got the predator rank, he also just streamed for 9+ hours in the morning I wrote this part. Obsessive sounds apt.😅]

"Simply speaking, I find gaming fun. Especially when I’m playing with the pros, my motivation shoots up and I feel like I need to get better and I want to get better. After all, I want to do well. I want to be good at acting, I want to be good at dancing, and I want to be good at singing. Once I'm hooked, I want to taste and see the same thing all the time, so I keep doing the same things and that's not a problem. In my mind, rather than hard work, I feel like this is what happens when I pursue what I want to do.”

He started a gaming channel on YouTube called “Leo’s Playground” (Leoの游び場) two years ago, which is now a popular channel with about 860,000 subscribers. [T/N: I just checked and it’s now at 924,000 subscribers.]

“Regarding this, I am just really enjoying myself. I’m not conscious of being watched, it’s like I’m revealing my private life (laughs); it is really just a hobby. There are people who enjoy watching it, new fans are also increasing, and that’s a plus for both myself and the group, so I'm really grateful for this era. For me, I’m glad I can show my kouhai’s that there are other paths like this."

Yamada san said that since last year, there has been a big change in his approach to work. He used to think more about the group than anyone else and take the lead, but he said he's become more focused on himself.

“There was a time last year when I felt a little out of sorts. I cannot say more about that but after going through that, I thought I should take better care of myself.”

And at this time, he is turning 30.

“You may look at me like this (laughs), but isn't 30 years old a proper adult? It's the age when I have to look at myself and think about how to live. Up to now, I have been thinking about how to give back to the group through my solo activities. As a result, I have chosen not to do some jobs or things. But from this point on, I don't think I’ll make it too complicated and simply go “I’ll do it because I want to do it” or “I won’t do it because I don’t want to do it”. I think I should prioritize myself more. Of course I'll continue to do activities for the group and the fans, but it has always been a 70/30 split, where 30 were things I did for myself, so I'll try to reverse the ratio. I don't know if this choice will turn out to be good or bad, but I'm going to give it a try anyway." [T/N: About damn time.]

#yamada ryosuke #translations #anan 2347 #side b #change

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morguevampire · 1 year

Text

(Un) Fortunate Encounters - Chapter 6

Masterlist for this fic

summary: Fighting boredom and missing genuine human interactions you make it your mission to find out more about the Baron. He ignores your questions but tension builds up eventually, when you don't stop prying.

warnings/tags: fluff, smut, angst, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of torture, drinking, mild alcoholism, dark themes, slow build romance, not really Stockholm syndrome but that’s up for interpretation

chapters: 6/?

word count: 1.934k

pairings: Helmut Zemo x fem!Reader

author’s note:

Uhhh, it's been a minute. Whoopsie.

Here's the usual excuses of being busy with uni and real life responsibilities but if we're completely honest I did not really feel like writing and I think I needed a (quite long) break from this story but I am back and i had fun writing this! Wrote this chapter pretty fast, so excuse the mess lol. As usual, english not my first language bla bla bla.

Feedback is always appreciated and THANK YOU to whoever is still reading this and has not given up on me. I have the intention of finishing this... i just need time. But as Zemo said: I have experience. And patience. A man can do anything if he has those.

Muchos besos mis amores <3

You can also find this work on https://archiveofourown.org/works/43158162/chapters/119680711

The more time you spend talking to Zemo, the more intriguing it becomes to find out more about his person. He’s like a closed book, not giving you any more information than is visible on the cover. Little side notes sometimes helping your brain in forming a genuine personality around him. But it feels like a one-sided game. He asks you questions about your family and friends, your hobbies, your feelings and your morals but in return you get almost nothing.

Mentally you make a note to pay extra attention when talking to him. Taking in all the crumbs he gives you about his private life. It almost feels like a game, and it does keep you entertained.

With time you get bolder in returning his questions. Simple little inquires, which aren’t too intimate but when answered could reveal something.

It’s obvious that they annoy him, most times he won’t answer or even leave the room in a sort of nonchalant way which makes you even more curious. As if he didn’t hear you. But his ignorance doesn’t stop you from prying. He’s fast to tell you his values and morals in a general sense, yet he will not go into specifics about his actions or his past.

On one occasion, it was during your dinner-routine, he seemed to be in a particularly chatty mood and gave you quite a few personal insights, so you figured it might just be okay to ask him about his family. You were both indulging in some whiskey and at the beginning it seemed to have lifted some of his secretive nature. You even catch him smiling at one point. Like a full-on laugh. But that changes immediately once you ask him about his son.

“So, what was Carl like? That’s your son’s name right? I think I read it in a news article somewhere?”

The noise of his cutlery clashing against the porcelain plate startle you. You immediately fix your gaze to your own plate, not wanting to look at his furious face and be reminded of the incident in his study. Your intentions were innocent enough but you knew you had overstepped a boundary. Instead of rage or screaming, his eerie soft but sharp voice tells you it’d probably be best to retire for the night. You mumble a quiet “sorry” but he’s already out of the dining room.

With that you’re left alone, food half eaten and the light mood of the evening ruined.

It bothers you. The way his mood changes so dramatically. It was difficult to navigate. On one hand you feel welcomed and heard and safe in his presence and on the other hand you feel like walking on very thin ice around him.

You were also sick of apologizing for asking questions. He seemed to know everything about you, yet you had no idea who the man you were staying with was. For the next day he was nowhere to be seen. Your trust had been broken.

You decide to distract yourself with books and a cup of tea, spiked with rum to ease your nerves. That evening you eat dinner on your own. Sulking in your own stupidity in thinking such a manipulative, egoistic man would open up to you. You still couldn’t even figure out what his intentions with you were. What did he want? Why were you still here? After all, it has been two weeks or so.

Time seemed to fly by when you were in company with either the Baron or Oeznik, but when you were alone it was like living in a never-ending dream. Not necessarily a nightmare, but the sort of dreams that made you feel stuck and anxious.

After dinner you decide to lounge around the living room, nursing a glass of the expensive liquor stashed in a cupboard next to the bookshelves. Alcohol helps pass the time, you figure. You were staring at the words in a random book, absently touching the stitched up wound above your left eye when his voice interrupts your aimless thoughts.

“We should probably take out those stitches. The wound seems healed enough.”

It wasn’t a question or a request. It was a command to get up and follow him into the downstairs bathroom.

He instructs you to sit down on the edge of the bathtub, where he kneels in front of you, unpacking the medical kit which seems to have magically appeared. You feel yourself caught in a sort of haze, intimidated by the situation. You’ve never been this close to the man before.

Perhaps that time in the warehouse where he carried you towards safety but having him in front of you, on his knees, face so close you could feel the ghost of his breath on your cheek not only made you blush, but also tense up.

You try avoiding his keen stare, rather just looking down at your sweaty hands fumbling around nervously.

When you dare to look up for individual short moments you notice light freckles on his skin. Also some stubble on the cheeks. But his face seems soft, even with his focused gaze, eyebrows furrowed to assess the wound on your forehead.

Whenever you feel your staring becomes too intense or obvious and you look down again, his smell overtakes your senses. His cologne smells citrusy, mixed with notes of cedar wood.

You curse yourself for being so desperate. It must be your lack of social interaction with other humans besides him that makes you so overwhelmed with the closeness. Needless to say, it is an invasion of your private space, whether you appreciate it or not, you can’t really tell just yet.

After assessing the healing process of the wound Zemo mumbles a simple “looks good” and proceeds to take out tweezers and medial scissors.

It’s in that moment that he briefly catches your stare. For some unknown reason, instead of avoiding his eye, you decide to look right back at him. It’s probably only a fraction of a second but it feels like minutes of staring into each other’s eyes and by the time he finally concentrates on your forehead again you’re a wreck. Shaking even more than before and trying to breath as quietly as possible. What was wrong with you? Why did he have that effect on you?

He must have noticed your discomfort as he tells you that “it’s alright, just stay calm and relax” while he’s preparing to remove the stitches.

It really just isn’t that easy to relax when your brain decides to completely eliminate the function of self-control and all you can think about is the fact that your kidnapper/host/new-friend-who-also-happens-to-be-a-Baron-AND-a-terrorist is actually quite an attractive man and very caring and gentle when he wants to be. His fingers just ever so slightly ghosting over your skin, giving you goosebumps all over. Underneath all those rigid, strong features definitely lies something soft and vulnerable.

You try to calm yourself down, you really do. Closing your eyes and easing your breathing when Zemo suddenly burst your meditative bubble.

“He loved Turkish delights.”

Your eyes snap open, finding Zemo’s but he’s not looking at your confused expression, but instead focusing on the wound above your left eye. He senses your confusion though.

“Carl. My son.”

Now you were even more stunned. He was actually opening up. In all of the possible situations, he chooses to tell you about his son while being mere inches from your face. But you didn’t want to break the spell. Staying quiet and assuming he talked to distract you, why he chose such a personal topic, you didn’t know but you appreciate his story.

He tells you about how Carl was a tough kid. Nothing ever hurt too much and he wasn’t scared of anything, besides maybe wasps. But he most likely got that from his father.

He would come home from playing outside spotting bruises and cuts from branches or wounds from falling from his bike but he’d be so casual about it. Simply asking for a band aid, just to rip it off again after a few hours because it was “annoying on his skin”.

His mother was worried he’d be too reckless, but she knew he’d learned from his father to always calculate the risks.

It was only once, when he suddenly came running from playing with friends outside. When jumping over a little stream somewhere in the woods surrounding the Zemo’s Estate he must have slipped and cut himself quite deep on his shin on a sharp rock. The ever cool Carl he was, he told his friends it was nothing, just a scratch and he’d just get a band aid real quick.

He really did try to hold back the tears, but when he spotted his father sitting on the balcony and alarmingly getting up when he saw his boy limping towards him, blood running all over his legs, the tears came, even for tough Carl.

The wound was quickly fixed up, the tears dried and the mood lifted with a treat of Turkish Delights.

“With all my efforts, I've always encouraged him to freely express his emotions. And not to shy away from embracing his weaknesses.” He sighs.

“But then again, I suppose I wasn’t much of a role model in that regard.”

You don’t know what to say. You want to say something. Anything. Mostly you want to thank him for opening up. For telling you about something so intimate. Essentially telling you about his own failings. Making himself vulnerable, right in front of you.

“I think he still really looked up to you. And I don’t think you failed.”

It’s all you say.

Zemo has long finished taking out the stitches but he’s still there. Not having moved from his position and it seems you’re back to simply staring at each other. In that moment he looks like a normal man. A bit of a broken man but a genuine one. An open book, really to be read and ready to be understood. You catch yourself wanting to touch him then. Just softly run your hand along his cheek, or just give him a hug, a long one. You search his face, wanting to take in as much as possible, before the moment expires or worse: it turns out to have been a dream. He’s doing the same, his stare dropping to your lips in an almost antagonizing rhythm. It takes everything in you not to reach out. You’ve never been one to make first moves, and you feel it isn’t your place to take action or advantage of his vulnerability. So you wait, and continue to stare and hope he just leans in and kisses you already. You know it probably isn’t a good idea, but you also feel it to be something you both would need at the moment.

It could be your imagination but you feel as if he was leaning even further into your space, ever so closer, breath hitching and heart beating too fast, too loud in your chest….

“Right… the scar should heal quite nicely.”

It is pure disappointment. The way he pulls back in the last second, right before you could have tasted his lips, mumbling whatever about your scar. You just nervously clear your throat and thank him.

He’s stood up and is out of the bathroom before you can even think about saving the situation.

Needless to say, that night you can’t sleep. And for once, it’s not because of nightmares.

You lie there, wondering if his thoughts are circling around as well.

#helmut zemo fanfic #zemo fic #helmut zemo #baron zemo #zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #mcu #baron zemo x you #zemo x you

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ghostiiess · 7 months

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[NSB HEADCANONS] - walking outside hands in hands with Oliver

pov: titles says it all!

warnings: none that i can think of!

type: fluff

member: oliver moy

REBLOGS AND LIKES ARE VERY APPRECIATED!

Taglist! (Open! Send an ask if you’d like to be in it!) : @nsb-rkive @kentisbaby @firebenderwolf @hyuneee0 @yawnzzznnn @ghostyycat7

Bold can’t be tagged.

i always thought Oliver was the kind of person who would take his s/o on a walk date or something like that

Like, just something really simple but yet so romantic

Like even boring places would be fun if it was with him

Just because you’re with him!

He makes boring things seem so fancy and so enjoyable :((

(More under the cut!)

i feel like walking hands in hands with him would be one of his many dates ideas

“Hey baby? D’you want to go take a walk with me? It’s going to rain soon, and…. I’d like to go outside for a while before the rain start”

It wasn’t even going to rain, he just wanted to take a walk with you and hold your hand

Ofc you said yes, bc like who would say no to that?

When you were about to go outside, oli noticed that you weren’t wearing a coat

Mistake.

“Wait baby, come back here! What do you think you’re doing?”

So you’re like “I’m going outside…” and he’s like “without a coat??”

This man is the definition of a ray of sunshine

“Baby, you’ll catch a cold! Come back inside!”

“Babe, you need to protect yourself from the cold, i don’t want you to catch a cold and be sick..”

Without even letting you answer him (even though you would have answered him, he would have ignored you, sorry not sorry)…

He put HIS coat on YOU

“That way, you’ll still be able to kiss me without any problems”

He quickly put another coat (probably one of the members) and go outside, locked the door… you know the drill!

“This’ll be my first walking date with you, baby!”

“Are you excited?”

“Me? Of course, i am. I’m always excited when it comes to our dates!”

while walking, he just can’t stop smiling

“Wdym why I’m smiling? Isn’t that obvious?”

“I’m walking with my lover, holding their hands, while talking to them and watching their beautiful features of their faces… and you’re asking me why I’m smiling?”

He would be the type to caress your hands with his fingers

Oliver moy, stop what you are doing bc like you are making our hearts weak (no, don’t stop, continue)

He would tell you random facts about fall!

“Baby, did you know that autumn is the season of love?”

Then you’re like “isn’t it in winter? Like in February or something like that?”

And this man is like “no” and starts explaining why it is the season of love

(This is all true btw, credits to the hotel chocolat website. Find the article here (the link is safe and sfw!) if you’d like to read more ! It’s really interesting ngl)

“I am telling you the truth! During Autumn, sex drives in both men and women are higher than every other time of the year! Men find women the most attractive during these months due to their increased production of testosterone.”

He would be so teasy

“Bet, you didn’t know that huh?”

“You’re learning thing everyday, baby!”

He would give you his magical smile (oh god, his smile.)

“I do think it’s the season of love, baby. Do you know why?”

Cheesy alert.

“… because we started dating when autumn was just started… about one year ago now!”

Like tell me, it wouldn’t be an oliver moy thing to say

idk he just give me this kind of vibes?

Sweet and cool and caring boyfriend vibes

You guys would talk a lot

This man’s not really a talker (compared to a certain member *cough* sebastian.) so if you are, this is perfect

This man do talk (surprising isn’ it? I know 😍), but he isn’t the type who would be like “hey, did you know that…?” Or “omg, have you heard about..”

I mean, he’s a talker, but he’s a bit more in the side ‘listening’ than ‘talking’

But, with you…??

He could talk for hours with you.

Literally.

He once talked with the members for 5 hours straight, this man can easily do it another time!

And he wouldn’t even get bored!

He would be so flirty, oh my god 🥱

“Baby, i’ll be honest with you… i haven’t listened to you, i was just looking at your cute face”

“What did you say? Sorry, i was out of my mind, remembering the day that i first saw you in my clothes..”

Btw, if you let of his hand… *sigh* just know he would pout a little bit

Mostly if you’re like doing nothing with them!

Like, did you just let of of his hand to only make it lay against your leg…??

This man’s territorial (the man himself said it)

“hey, you okay?”

“Because you just let go of my hand. Usually, you LOVE holding my hand.. I’m just wondering, that’s all. Did i make you uncomfortable?”

He’s so sweet, help 🥹

He would put his hand in yours again while making excuses

“My hand’s hot and yours’ cold…”

“Let me warm your pretty hand, yeah? I don’t want you to be cold”

“Your hand’s so soft, my babe…”

“You have the world’s softest hand…”

And then if your hand is dry, you would be like “man, we both know it ain’t true” he would be like “no baby! I tell you. Your hands so soft when it is in mine… maybe it’s because we’re made for each other..”

He’s cheesy, what can i say?

He would also take pictures of you

“walking date with her. » would probably a caption he could use for a picture with you

« My baby’s so cute! Look at you, now! Your nose’s all red and all cold hahaha! »

He would put kisses on your nose

“I want to warm it up!” while saying between the kisses

He would laugh

And you know how cute his laugh is

He would also try to do photoshoot with you

« you look really cute in my coat »

“Wear my clothes more often, baby. It really suits you”

He would kiss you so delicately 🥹

Like if you were an autumn leaf

He’s scared to break you if he goes too hard on you (i promise this is not 18+)

He would 100% share his AirPods with you and put his fall playlist while walking with you

« I could write an autumn song about you, baby… »

Also, when you’d come back inside, he’s be so grateful

« argh, it was so fun to go outside and breathe some fresh air… thank you baby for taking the time to do that with me! »

He would make you hot chocolate

You don’t like hot chocolate? He’d made you any warm type of drinks you love

But if you do like it…

« Baby, do you want to have a hot chocolate with water or milk? »

I know it’s like a ‘debate’ (really not) in the hot chocolate community or whatever

Tbh, i like both. I prefer milk since it’s creamier, but i also like it with water 🤭 with water, it’s a different thing and I’m not 100% against that, you know?

Tell me which team you are, no judgment!

Walking dates with oli would be heaven

He’s just the sweetest boy alive, what can i say?

He’s the type of guy we all deserve to have in our life

Like always, i struggle on how to end the hc, but i hope you guys enjoyed this headcanon!

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excessive-vampires · 3 months

Text

Dealing With Demons Chapter 2: Sure as Hell Ain't Simple Part 1: Riley

Masterlist with CW

Taglist: @demyxdancer

"And then what did the demon do, Agent Silverman?" Coleman asked. As soon as Sil had reported Avi's appearance in the warehouse, the director's shoulders had tensed, and her hands had gripped the edge of her desk tightly. Riley rarely saw Coleman this tense.

"They... Well, they introduced themself."

"What?"

"Their name is Avi," Riley added. "In case that's relevant."

Coleman motioned for the team to move in closer and they huddled around her desk. "Did they threaten you?" she said in a serious tone.

"No, but they seemed... interested in us. And in the Bureau." Sil kept clenching and unclenching her fists, and seeing her so on edge made Riley feel sick to their stomach.

"That's... almost certainly not good." Coleman put her head in her hands.

Mike spoke for the first time since the team entered the office. "So what do we do?"

She looked up at him. "For now? Stay vigilant. Be on the lookout for this demon or any signs of demonic activity. And if you see anything, tell me immediately."

"Sir? There's, um, one more thing."

"Yes, Agent Bishop?"

"They looked human. But they weren't trying to be seen as human. They made what they were abundantly clear. I've seen drawings of the basic form of demons of avarice, they're draconic. They have horns and claws and scales and they look like they're made of gold and pearls. Avi had none of that. If it weren't for the glowing eyes and talking about deals I would have thought they were human at first."

Coleman leaned forward. Her straight, chin length hair almost fell from its place tucked behind her ears to cover her face. "And what does that mean?"

RIley's mouth was dry as a desert, but they managed to get the words out anyway. "That they have a tremendous amount of power to expend."

"Okay... Okay." Coleman looked down and rubbed her temples. "I reiterate my previous point. With any luck they'll leave us alone, and if not we can put the power of the entire base behind dealing with them. Do not engage on your own. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir," the trio replied together, and then left the office.

"Damn, I wish there was something we could do other than wait." Mike crossed his arms over his chest.

"We need to trust the director. She knows what's safest." Sil put a hand on his shoulder.

It was weird seeing her try to comfort him when just this morning they were spending all of their time antagonising each other. They must be more shaken up than Riley realized. Probably just as much as Riley still was.

"I'm going to do some research on demons so we know what to be on the lookout for," Riley said.

"Good idea, Agent Bishop."

"Yeah, you do that."

As Sil and Mike went back to their desks, Riley rode the elevator down to the library. Once there, they started gathering books from shelves, pulling up articles on demons from the Bureau's database, and settling in for an afternoon of research.

The library didn't have much left on demons after the break in. But still, even just finding and searching through what little was left and making a digital folder of relevant information took hours. By the time they'd done what felt like enough it was late. Riley was the last one in the library, maybe the last one in the building.

Well, that nixed the plan to get a ride from Mike or Sil. Not that that plan had been more than a passing thought anyway.

Riley emailed the folder to their teammates, packed their bag, and headed to the exit. Rain was pounding down on the roof loud enough to be heard from the inside of the ground floor. Great. Riley's raincoat sat light and pitiful on their shoulders. They walked outside but stayed where the building's overhang provided shelter. Riley really couldn't afford to get an Uber unless they absolutely had to. They made up their mind, they'd just tough it out and order a new umbrella when they got home. It'd probably rain again in between now and when the umbrella arrived, but a little water wouldn't kill them. Nor would a lot of water.

Just as they were building up the courage to step out into the downpour, a sleek gold car pulled up in front of the building. The window rolled down to reveal a newly familiar face with glowing gold eyes.

"Need a ride?"

It would be monumentally stupid to get into a car with a demon. It would also be monumentally stupid to refuse a demon's offer and risk angering them. There was no smart option here. The thought to call Sil for help crossed Riley's mind, but she was most likely too far away by now. And even if she wasn't, did Riley really want to put her in danger by involving her in this? So that narrowed their options to saying "No" or "Yes," and either one could lead to ending up dead. After a moment of deliberation, they decided it was probably safest to do as the demon asked, plus, Riley really wasn't looking forward to getting soaked.

"Fuck it," they muttered, and got in the car.

"What's your address?"

"Huh?"

"Where am I taking you?" Avi smiled, showing off gleaming teeth.

Riley really hadn't thought this through. "Oh, um, you can just drop me off at the subway station."

"Nonsense, then you'd have to walk part of the way home and still get soaked."

Riley considered their options for a minute as Avi looked at them patiently. Then they sighed and told Avi their address. After another smile from the demon, Riley wondered if they were going to die tonight. Avi typed the address into their phone and set it in a cup holder. Then they drove away from the building. Well, no backing out now.

Avi looked different. Which wasn't too surprising, demons were fluid creatures after all, there wasn't much they couldn't change about how they looked if they had the mana to spare. But it wasn't their face or their build that had changed but the way they presented themself. They were wearing less formal clothes, and their hair was a bit messy. It looked better like that. Their posture was also more relaxed, and overall they seemed very dissimilar to the business-like front they had put forward at the warehouse.

"Do you like your job?"

Riley was startled out of their train of thought by the question. "Um, yeah. Yeah I do."

"It must be interesting researching the paranormal for a living."

As far as Riley could tell the demon was being sincere.

"Yes. I can't imagine anything I'd want to do more," Riley said as they stared out the windshield and tried to pretend they were talking to human instead of a monster they'd just seen commit murder.

Yet another smile. "So tell me, Riley, what do you know about demons?"

They said it casually, but this conversation was now recognizable as an interrogation. Oddly, that made Riley feel better, knowing that Avi had a reason to be doing this other than just to terrify them. They would have to be careful about their answers though, they didn't want to give Avi any reason to consider them a threat.

"They're manifestations of desire. I know that they make deals for human souls, and I know that they... consume the souls they buy when the human dies or sometimes when the deal is complete."

"Or when the deal is broken, like today," Avi offered helpfully.

"R-Right." Riley felt sweat start to collect at the back of their neck at the memory.

"Anything else?"

"... I can tell from your eye color that you're a demon of avarice, and I know you get power from the souls you consume. And that you, you specifically, are very powerful."

"Interesting. How?"

"Because you look human. And you could feel it when the bullets hit you."

The demon's eyes widened, they opened their mouth and then closed it, but Avi kept their eyes on the road and did not turn to look at Riley.

"Do you know the ritual used to summon demons?" Their tone was still casual, but was undercut with a note of seriousness.

It was probably best not to lie, not to risk getting caught in a lie when that could make the demon angry.

"Yes."

"So you must also know the ritual used to banish us."

Shit. It was a safe assumption, the two rituals were practically the same, but the banishing ritual was done in reverse. Well, there was no use in lying now if the demon already believed it. "Yes."

Riley waited for something to happen, for Avi to do something. They had a terrible fear that Avi would just reach over, rip out their soul, and eat it like they had done to the warlock earlier today. But no, demons couldn't eat your soul unless you willingly sold it to them. Avi could kill Riley, but that was it. Riley held onto that knowledge and their, woefully under-equipped, protection amulet like they were a lifeboat and this conversation was the Titanic.

"Hmm. Guess I don't want to get on your bad side then." Avi's tone was serious, but they didn't say anything else, just kept driving.

There was a small silence during which Riley's mind raced. Was... was that it? Was that all the demon was going to do or say? No attack? Not even a threat?

"So that's all you know?"

"Um, yes."

"That's really not a lot," Avi said playfully.

It really wasn't. Riley had a tendency to ramble on when nervous but this time there simply hadn't been enough to say.

"Potential sources for information on demons are rare, people who deal with demons don't usually like to share what they have with us, and demons themselves are... considered too dangerous to approach. Plus a lot of the information we did have was stolen a while back."

"Well, it's lucky you have me then."

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

"Y-Yeah." Riley couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Seriously, ask away."

It was apparently now Riley's turn to interrogate. What was a question that wouldn't make this demon want to kill them? "Can you only feel avarice?" There, that seemed safe enough.

"Well, I'd hardly be truly sapient if that were the case." Avi sounded slightly annoyed. Riley gulped. "No," they explained. "I can feel the full spectrum of human emotion, but avarice is always the driving force behind my actions, be they good or evil."

"How can avarice drive you to do good?"

"Well, it depends on how you define avarice."

"How do you define avarice?"

They were back to getting smiles from Avi, but the expression seemed more sincere this time.

"You'll get a slightly different answer from every greed demon you ask, but for me it's wanting more of things and wanting to keep what I have."

"Huh. So..." This was risky, but Riley needed to know. They took a deep breath. "What do you want from me?"

"Riley, I want to be friends."

"What."

"I want you and I to be friends. Or at least friendly acquaintances. I only really have one friend at the moment, and I'm feeling just a bit lonely."

Suddenly Riley understood. Avi wanted to get on the Bureau's good side. Maybe they considered it a threat too big to take down, or maybe they just wanted to avoid conflict. Either way, Riley could be reasonably sure Avi wouldn't kill them for no reason. Their grip on their amulet loosened.

"So, no one on your team could give you a ride home?"

"Huh?"

"Your team, from the warehouse." The demon turned onto a street that Riley recognized from their daily commute, they were headed towards Riley's apartment. That was a further relief, at least the demon was actually taking them home and not who knows where.

"Oh, yeah, it's Sil's team really. I'm only part of it sometimes. Two-person teams aren't the standard, but Mike and Sil are the best agents we have. And I worked late, they had already left by the time I was done." Rain beat down outside the window, hitting the glass and creating patterns of droplets for Riley to trace with their fingers. It put them in a contemplative mood. "But, honestly, I probably wouldn't have asked them anyway. I live pretty far away from the Bureau and I wouldn't want to bother them with this." Riley was admitting this to themself as much as they were to Avi.

"Well, it's no inconvenience for me, I live pretty close to your place."

"You have a house?"

"A roomy one-bedroom apartment, but yes I have a place on this plane of existence that I call home."

That was a surprise. Riley had never considered demons doing anything in this world other than carrying out deals and collecting souls.

"Do other demons have homes here?"

"Usually just the few with the luxury of being able to look human, but there are some of us who build up cults or gangs around ourselves and interact with the mortal plane indirectly. The rest just have to wait in the psychic plane until they're summoned, which can get really boring."

"Huh."

"But enough about me. Tell me about you. How long have you worked for the Bureau?"

So the interrogation resumed. That seemed like a safe enough question to answer though. "Six years."

"And before that?"

"The training academy, and before that college."

"What'd you study?"

"Library science."

"That fits with your career choice. So, time for the big question, how did you find out about magic and monsters?"

"I always knew. My grandmother is a mage and while my parents didn't involve themselves in the paranormal they didn't make her keep it a secret."

"Fascinating."

That was weird. As far as entrances into the paranormal world were, Riley's was pretty boring. No big encounter that changed their entire worldview like Mike, but they hadn't been raised in a household where magic was normal like Sil either. "Yeah. For a while I wanted to be a mage too, but I was always better at learning about magic than actually doing it. I've, uh, never actually managed to successfully cast a spell before."

"Hence the researcher job."

"Exactly."

"Fascinating," Avi repeated. They sounded genuinely intrigued.

There was a silence, not exactly awkward but not quite comfortable. Then Avi reached over to turn on the radio.

"Do you mind?"

"Oh, no, go ahead."

They put on an alternative rock station. Riley was tempted to make a joke about rock and roll being the devil's music, but worried that if it went over badly Avi might decide to kill them despite their desire to remain in the Bureau's good graces.

The demon sang along to the radio without shame, even though their voice wasn't exactly pretty. Riley was almost in awe at how human a picture this demon painted. They had a car, a phone, and an apartment. They liked a certain type of music. Riley wondered how much of it was genuine and how much was a show put on for their benefit.

Eventually the car stopped outside of Riley's apartment building.

"Here." Avi presented them with a small scrap of paper with a phone number scrawled on it. "In case you want to get in touch."

"Thanks." Riley accepted it and started to get out their own phone. Politeness required reciprocation, and it was best not to be rude to something so dangerous. "My number is—"

"Oh, don't worry about that. If I need to get in touch with you, well, I know where you work and where you live." The flash of Avi's white teeth in their smile suddenly seemed a lot more sinister. Riley's mouth went dry and they had to clear their throat before responding.

"Oh. Yes. I guess you do."

"Goodbye, Riley!" One last smile.

Riley opened the car door and got out. The rain had softened to a drizzle. "Bye, Avi."

Riley sprinted to get out of the rain and into their apartment. After they locked the door behind them they sank down to the floor in relief.

"I'm alive, I'm okay."

Common sense begged that the piece of paper in their hand be thrown away, but... this was a unique opportunity. As they had said before, the Bureau didn't know a lot about demons, and Avi was open to answering questions. Plus, if the demon somehow found out Riley hadn't saved their number they might get angry in a way that ended very badly for Riley. That settled it, they put the number in their phone.

#dwd #riley pov

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barlowstreet · 1 month

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I am so fucking proud of you! May I ask how your group project ended up going?

Thank you!!!

Honestly yeah I have tea, let's spill.

Under a cut for long math drama because WOW that a whole thing

Alright, so for anyone who missed it, the group project assignment was fairly simple. It was literally just pick an article about mathematical modeling (he suggested using covid 19 as a topic), read it, present our findings to our class. Four people in my group, 10 minute long at most presentation, could have all probably be done in 30 minutes, right? We started this March 20th and it was due April 10th, today.

I picked the article, sent it to my group partners, they were like "yeah sure that works". I set up a word document through office 365 which we all have access to through our school that we could all just put our notes in and I put my part in March 20th. And then I took a whole bunch of cold medication because that was when I was sick.

Then no one did anything. I emailed them again reminding them, hey, we do gotta do this April 5th. The one girl did hers that day. The guy in my group did his April 7th. I also made a powerpoint at that point because I was like "I am not just talking to the camera here, I need a prop". (I get camera shy and do a lot better if I have props.)

The other girl in my group? The last email I got from her was never. She never replied to a single one of my emails. We talked in class once in a breakout room, where I said "I will email you all, I have no voice and am very sick and it's probably easier to just use email" and she was like, "Yeah, sounds good." So to be clear, she knew I was going to email her.

I get to class today and the guy in my group is not there. Okay, sure, fine, one of us can read his part. GirlA messages me in the zoom chat and is like "did GirlB ever send you anything?" and I have to be like, "No. I have a slide with just her name on it, do we want to just be petty and pause on it for a moment when we get there?" and she was like "Yeah tbh she didn't reply to any of our emails and do any work, what else do we do".

(Meanwhile we were talking about grades and GirlB asks the instructor why he never gave her a time slot to do one of our quizzes. It was a take home quiz. He said that SEVERAL times in class but I suspect she isn't actually there a decent amount, she just opens the zoom link and does other things. But our classes are recorded. Watch the recording at least?)

And then GirlB messages me. At 7:25pm. And says, "I sent you my notes."

My class, I will tell anyone who doesn't know, is 6:30pm to 9:30pm. We were in class. Other people were presenting, and I'm frantically adding things to the powerpoint presentation that I made. AND she somehow didn't actually change the online version of the powerpoint (because I enabled editing for that too) so she had to send it to me.

And she sent it as a PDF.

Anyways, me and GirlA sounded like we knew what we were talking about. I fake being good at speaking well and she made a good joke that made her seem a little more relaxed. I will say that the other girl did send me a couple of diagrams which made things look nice, but she really struggled with presenting it and sounded very awkward.

Oh and the guy showed up literally in the middle of our presentation, which, you know, I'll take since I didn't have to present his part.

We sorta could tell that GirlB handed in a bunch of assignments technically late and her grade was probably Not Good so honestly the fact that we all got 100% on the presentation probably did her a lot of good.

And I swear to god, most of it is because people are impressed by powerpoint. GirlA, when we were gossiping, she thanked me for doing "all that work" on the powerpoint when, like, it took me 10 minutes because I downloaded a vaguely math-y looking powerpoint theme XD So, life lesson, a good looking powerpoint presentation will take you a long way.

#asks #answered #Anonymous #thanks for asking!#so many people who did their presentations just clearly did not understand what they were saying #if this were an english class they would all get docked for plagarism #because they had clearly copy and pasted large chunks of information and were just reading it

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sneezemonster15 · 1 year

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When people say that "Naruto and Sasuke are reincarnations of brothers it’s INCEST to ship them together" I facepalm internally. Because in the Naruto Universe, and I’ve re-read the chapters talking about it, reincarnation is just a word used to describe the fact that the chakra of a dead person is being transmitted to another living person. Not the soul, not the memories, just the chakra.

Of course anon. Your feelings about this are justified. Plus, the Indra Ashura thing came way later. Like in the second half of the last arc of this 700 chapter long manga. If Naruto and Sasuke were supposed to be brothers, that dynamic would have been established pretty early on. It's so easy for the antis to ignore that whenever brotherhood is mentioned in the manga with respect to Naruto and Sasuke, even if by Naruto himself, it's always complex and layered. It's never simple or direct. I have never ever seen any media where so much extraneous stuff was written or drawn to establish a brotherly relationship. A brotherly relationship never needs to be defined. It's always pretty direct and emphatically so, even joyously and exuberantly depicted. Not in any media the world over have I seen two men who are so much in two minds about their supposed 'brotherly' relationship. And I have seen and examined a hell lot. Never. Not once. And why would it? It would be so damn counterproductive. A brotherly relationship is never problematic in a heteronormative world. Naruto and Sasuke are gay and in love in a world that is heteronormative and homophobic to a fault. A world that doesn't even accept that homosexuality can exist or can be considered normal, how will it accept any balanced discussion around it? These antis should try holding conversations about homosexuality in a heteronormative society and see how much resistance and criticism and straight up ridicule and dismissal they face.

My sainted father, even though he was much more liberal, intelligent and educated especially as compared to his peers, struggled a lot with understanding homosexuality. He is also a product of his environment and upbringing, growing up in a heteronormative and homophobic world where the word 'gay' itself was a slang, an insult. These things are not so simple to judge. While I was growing up, I used to see depictions of popular gay culture on tv and it was mostly used as devices meant for cheap humor. And my dad would laugh. Like it was meant to affect the audience. And it would trigger me. I was a non conformist from the beginning, I am also a result of my upbringing, my dad is the one who encouraged me to think on my own and not take what people told me for granted. I was a girl from a politically and socially disadvantaged background growing up in a bigoted and patriarchal society, I had enough odds against me and my father had thankfully prepared me for it from when I was three years old. But I was also from a different generation from my father's. So things that he was still oblivious about or things that he hadn't examined critically, he had already given me the basic tools to examine and inspect. We would watch tv and films together and then sometimes, discuss what we saw. But he started to get tired of me soon lol. Because I would argue with him about everything as I started to grow up and learn more and more. I remember once he said that homosexuality was a sick and unnatural propensity and shouldn't be encouraged in a civilized society. I was 15-16. And I took him ON. I might not have even seen an actual gay person in my life till then (or have known they were gay if I had), but I was well read and had seen films about the subject and read articles in magazines etc. And thought about it as much as my inexperienced mind could manage. My take was that it was just wrong to judge people on the basis of whom they chose to love, irrespective of what their sexual orientation was. As long as it was mutually consensual, it was none of anyone's business to poke about. And I gave him the same kind of arguments he would use against those who would judge our community on the basis of where we were born and what our socio political religious status was. That it was a person's basic right to humanity to choose whom they loved, how could he deny that? And he was rendered speechless. He knew he would be deemed a hypocrite if he tried to justify his arguments. He just gave up grudgingly and jokingly told me he had created a monster. Lolol. That was the day and till this day, he hasn't said a word against homosexuality. He still might not entertain it happily but he also doesn't speak negatively about it.

But the difference was, my father is a reasonable man. He will acknowledge logic and reason when he is given it. He will not turn tail or burrow his head in the sand like some sad ignorant ostrich, even though he is from a different generation. He is proud people, but not so egotistical or willingly ignorant that he cannot see facts.

My work takes me to several obscure and underdeveloped, underprivileged communities where I am obliged to talk about issues that carry a lot of taboo. Women's health for example. It's not easy to carry on these conversations in such an environment. And it takes a hell lot of work, for years and years where you even reach a position where you can comfortably talk about these issues that people in developed societies take for granted. I have had people tell me that it's better to underfeed pregnant women for the sake of the child, complementary breastfeeding is not even something they have heard of, or the importance of iron supplements, calcium supplements for older women who perform heavy physical chores day in and day out, the culture of serving the women leftovers of the meal, never men or feeding the men first and the women last, or how the women invariably get the least meaty part of the animal and men get the most meaty parts of an animal in their meals etc etc. It's so normalised, no one questions it, it's unbearably invisibilised because it's part of their culture, it's the norm, it's so engrained in their socio cultural fabric and as a result, their language and extended notions, no one thinks it's abnormal or unusual. These narratives are just there, have been there for centuries and no one wants to find faults with it, everyone in their society is conditioned to follow the same narrative, how can you even question a narrative you don't even know can possibly be wrong? You think the world was designed to be beneficial for women or gay people? Any deviation to the norm or that threatens the existing foundation of this problematic narrative is never encouraged, only discouraged. Communities and groups with shared interests shy away from upsetting the established order, the existing equilibrium. It's quite a natural tendency for humans. Avoid chaos and uncertainty and follow the preexisting notions till the cows come home no matter how counterproductive and harmful they are.

Now replace this issue with homosexuality. How can you question the heteronormative agenda/narrative if you don't see anything wrong with it, how non-inclusive and straight-jacketed it is? How do you even begin to understand that a heteronormative society is harmful and undermines the rights of LGBTQ+ members of its community? Me and my team along with other collaborators have had to develop smart communication strategies to counter these narratives and it takes time, money and a hell lot of drive, effort and commitment. So I know from experience that it is not a simple matter of defining the whole thing in binaries, in black and white terms. It's much more complex than that. It takes a hell lot of effort to single out the underlying problems and prejudices that invariably guide these narratives and focus on them to break these narratives, one prejudiced notion at a time.

And when it comes to sexuality, I can see and feel these complexities in the story of Naruto. There is a proper overarching dialectic where the characters of Naruto and Sasuke go through the whole dilemma of defining this relationship. Sasuke keeps asking Naruto why does he keep getting in his way, being unable to find Naruto's over the top actions and words justified with the names he gives to their relationship. Sasuke gets frustrated, he is displeased, he is dissatisfied. How do the antis explain that away? It's not even an isolated incident, it's there throughfuckingout, a very crucial part of the narrative and their own characterisation. If it weren't important or significant, why would it be there? Why would Kishi so painstakingly put it there? What does this signify? What was his intent? If they were just brothers, why would it even be necessary? What brothers ask each other these questions? Where have these antis seen it? Well, they haven't. Because it doesn't exist. Like I said, it's counterproductive. No intelligent storyteller would do it, it's damn stupid and unnecessary. With all this, Kishi meant to portray that Naruto and Sasuke were NOT brothers, they were never meant to be. What would even be the point of writing Sasuke and Naruto as gay? Why would all the scenes of Naruto's sexuality be so layered? Why would Kishi show Sasuke rejecting women over and over again and not allowing them actions or gestures that he allows Naruto so naturally and willingly and even wantonly? Why would he get so annoyed at women flirting with him but then, act like some flirtatious femme fatale with an oblivious Naruto? And why would Naruto be shown as harping about Sasuke's looks again and again when he would be pointedly shown as not reacting to Sakura's looks or Hinata's looks like a straight dude? Why would both these characters deviate from the typical portrayal of straight dudes in media, very much inspired by real life people, and act as someone who is not interested in the opposite sex? Why? Why would Kishi do all this? To portray them as brothers? Lol.

No.

To portray them as gay, whether closeted or not. In a genre where he cannot depict them as such directly. But he is a damn good writer and he wanted to facilitate their tragic love story no? It all follows the logic and narrative of this story. All of it. I talk about gay coming of age films all the time and I have listed more than twenty of them already and if you watch them, you would understand what I mean, as you would see the same tropes and narrative devices, of which misunderstanding the romantic feeling for brotherhood is one of the most common one. And it again follows the logic of finding a way to talk about something 'abnormal' in a world that celebrates and glorifies normativity, with terms they already know of even if inaccurate, to try and understand their romantic feelings for each other in a world that simply doesn't allow the space or opportunity of assimilating anything outside of the norm. Naruto and Sasuke are kids, they are inexperienced, they are also the products of their upbringing. It's called characterisation given their existing worldbuilding. Is it any surprise that they also struggle talking about it in direct words? Kishi is a much more intelligent and talented writer than fans give him credit for. But what one doesn't understand or even see, how can they even begin to judge it? You need to be intelligent and sensitive to understand something intelligent and sensitive. I have talked about it in more detail here.

But the fact of the matter is, in the conclusive chapter of this manga which happened to be their resolution, Sasuke got really triggered and asked Naruto point blank what he meant by 'friends', after Naruto tried to distract him because he felt uncomfortable answering this very pregnant and significant question, again insisting that Naruto define this relationship. He MUST. It's important for Sasuke. He needs to understand the nature of Naruto's feelings for him and he wants to hear it from him. He has had enough and he needs to know. He won't be dismissed with some incommensurate term such as friends. It simply doesn't gel with the lengths Naruto goes to, to protect Sasuke, to care for him. So he insists. And what does Naruto say? He is still not able to give it a name. But he also doesn't use the same terms he had used before, hence rejecting them. What impression does it give the reader? That he knows they weren't accurate terms to define his feelings for Sasuke. He could have used the term 'brothers' again, but he didn't. We saw Naruto trying to give all sorts of definitions to his feelings for Sasuke but At The End, he didn't use any of them. He left it undefined. He isn't ready to say it, because it's not that easy, because he is closeted, also because it's shounen. But he explained the underlying feelings. There are different ways to saying I love you, not just the one. His was one of them. The zenith of loving someone. Where you feel hurt when the other does. When the pain of your beloved directly makes you pained. Where you are so connected to someone, it's like your souls are connected and you simply cannot bear the other one's pain because their pain is your own. So you care for them, you are entirely devoted to them, you protect them no matter what the sacrifice, even if it's your own life. Because that's love. It's not meant for everyone. But that's how Naruto is. And that's how Sasuke is too. That's why they were fated. And that's why they were the instrumental duo that finally changed a world that all their predecessors, the ones who imbibed Ashura's and Indra's chakras before them, couldn't do. They were different. They were them. The end of the story culminates in their coming of age. To be able to finally understand things they couldn't before. For both Naruto and Sasuke. This is what their respective journeys led them to. Emotional and sexual coming of age.

And none of this is me making up a story. This IS the narrative. This is the story. And anyone who doesn't have their heads buried in their asses can see it. I won't deny that it's not as direct as these simple minded antis would like to see. But it's not that indirect either. And if they were a little more open minded and honest with themselves, they would be able to see it too.

#ask #naruto #sasuke #sns #uzumaki naruto #uchiha sasuke #narusasu #sasunaru

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shoppncarticles · 8 months

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BONUS: Pokestar Studios

When expanding the region of Unova for the Black and White sequel games, Game Freak decided to include some additional references to American cultural icons, with one being Pokestar Studios, Pokemon’s version of Hollywood in its prime. Only, since Unova is based on New York, I guess they moved out of California all the way over to the East coast.

Pokestar Studios is a pretty interesting side attraction to the main game shenanigans, since the player can participate as an actor in various movie sets, engaging in Pokemon battles more as preset puzzles than monster fighting. Using rental Pokemon, you’ve got to follow a script, and know when’s the right time to make certain moves, take falls, or wait around for your next cue, with dialogue choices in between, all with the goal of making the best crowd-pleasing box office success. While it is pretty straightforward, and the use of rental acting Pokemon makes most of the puzzles pretty simple, I did always enjoy this alternative to the regular gameplay loop, and how much depth it was given. What’s really special is that you can use your own Pokemon when reshooting a completed movie, and if you’re clever enough can even find secret hidden endings that will make your movie an infamous cult classic, and make your Pokemon a well-known movie star.

What makes Pokestar Studios noteworthy enough for a Bonus Article though, is that the opponents you fight in movies aren’t limited to just other human trainers and Pokemon. Even the fantastical world of Pokemon needs some fictional movie monsters in their theaters, and some of them get pretty out there compared to the usual Pikachu and Charizard. Since Game Freak isn’t likely to give them any attention anytime soon, I thought it was worthwhile to shed some light on these lesser known official Pokemon creations.

Black Door & White Door

Starting off strong with these two magical doors, opponents from a medieval fairy tale style movie. Specialized opponents like these are usually represented with just a green screen prop during the actual recording session, but once the movie is completed they’re replaced with what is presumably CGI. That’s kinda funny.

The Black and White Doors are Grass and Fire types respectively, strangely enough. I really enjoy how multilayered their designs are, how behind the central lock and chains you can see shadowy eyes and a thick-lipped smile and big yellow teeth on the main door. It definitely has the feeling of some grimdark fairy tale monster to it.

The weird snakes coiling around the pillars and gripping the chains are pretty charming too, I love their toothy overbites and protruding eyes. Strangely enough, they share a strong resemblance to Applin, a Pokemon from all the way forward in Generation Eight. They share the same eyes and serpentine bodies, so I wonder if the connection was even considered by the devs or if this is just a happy coincidence. Either way, both the snakes and doors are pretty fun.

The ‘trainer’ that uses both doors is also a gatekeeper represented by a giant Substitute doll. Now that’s a real bummer, people are already begging for the Substitute doll to be the inspiration for a real Pokemon, and here’s a lovely giant plush toy sprite and everything. Just look at that excess stitching and exposed fluff. It would’ve been a great Normal/Ghost type.

MT & MT2

Of course, since Tyranitar is Pokemon’s version of Godzilla, Pokemon’s Hollywood has to go an make a series of movies with a Mechagodzilla too. MT, obviously short for Mecha Tyranitar, is a well designed robot counterpart to the Rock/Dark type we all know. I appreciate with how intricately it’s detailed, without appearing too complex. All the metallic seams and rivets are great, and I like how all the joints on its limbs and tails are defined and visible. Vents appearing to reside in Tyranitar’s weird chest cavities are a good touch too.

MT2 has a sick coloration too. I wish that was reflective of Shiny Tyranitar’s palette. If they were to ever change it one day, I’d like for it to be black and red like this one.

F-00

Awww, now this one really stinks. There aren’t enough fully mechanical Pokemon as there should be, and this adorable little toy robot would be an EXCELLENT addition to the roster. It’s so obviously designed to be cutesy, but in just the right ways. I really enjoy its LED screen face, and the little heartbeat monitor on its chest. The superfluous screw on top of its head is a classic touch too.

But THEN, it also has a big, broken, malfunctioning form that makes everything ten times better. If this wasn’t a robot, it’d be one of the most gory designs out there. Just look at it, all its limbs are stretched apart with exposed, torn wires, and its whole facial screen is hanging out of the head. I really enjoy how broken and malformed this thing is, and to make matters better it’s only an alternate form to the cute robot. So, if it were an available Pokemon, both would be equally available to players rather one being locked to a stronger evolution.

What GIVES. Why reserve such a nice design to a one-game minigame feature, one where you can’t even use it, huh??? Some super fan of F-00’s movies out there really needs to get to creating it in real life for future Pokemon trainers to catch and use on their journeys. Just look at that great curved posture in that malfunctioning portrait. What a TEASE.

Invaders

There’s an Alien Invasion movie series as well, and features a bunch of beehive hairdo-wearing feminine aliens invading a major city in giant Cascoon-like UFOs. It’s interesting to try and read into the interpretation that the creatives in the Pokemon universe would try to base an extraterrestrial ship off an insect cocoon of all things, even if I don’t know exactly what to glean from it. The sprite is really excellently drawn though, like wow. Look at all those futuristic lines and glowing screens. The sheen across the top of the shell is really well done too. Great job, guys.

The metallic womanly alien is nice too, and feels right out of a classic alien monster b-movie. I’m not an expert of anything but I feel like there was a trend for a while to make aliens seem metallic or robotic in nature, rather than slimy space freaks. Maybe it has to do with the fancy futuristic feel of chrome. Everything’s chrome in the future.

Old Statue

These next two monsters come from a movie series called Ghost Eraser, where your character is tasked with finding people who have been possessed by spirits and cleansing them and capturing the lingering ghosts. Most people assume this to be a reference to Ghostbusters, and I could definitely see that considering the final antagonist of the movies. However, the director of all of them is credited as John Pokenter (ha), so who’s to say exactly.

Anyways, the first fully original monster is actually another weird ‘trainer,’ you never fight it directly since it instead commands a Golurk, but this Old Statue is another quite intricate and interestingly detailed design. I guess because the designers knew they never had to worry about accommodating for it becoming a Pokemon that would be drawn several times over by various artists, they didn’t hold back on how detailed their designs were. The weird, lopsided painted face is cool, as are the strange, ribbed anatomy it seems to have and goofy face. Of course special mention goes to the plasma ball it holds too. This would be an excellent, welcome addition to Pokemon’s set of ancient relics alongside Claydol and Golurk.

Majin

Majin takes the role as Ghost Eraser’s final boss, making it Pokemon’s Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. I like what it goes for, being a big, green smog demon covered in building debris and rebar. Remember from Garbodor’s review how appealing I find rebar anatomy, for some reason? Yeah. Maijin has various pipes covering its body too, which each expel puffs of smoke at various intervals, including with its nose. That’s goofy. I really like its jagged jack-o-lantern smile too. Definitely would be welcome among Pokemon’s roster.

It’s also a Dark/Ghost type ancient evil that used to be sealed in a relic, that being the previous Old Statue. I wonder if Maijin is some fictionalized version of Pokemon’s own Spiritomb considering their similarities. That’d be a neat little detail.

Humanoid & Monster

Finally are these two monsters, from a horror movie series also by John Pokenter. Manifesting from an otherworldly fog gives us these two strange creatures, the lesser Humanoid and the Monster that commands them. The splotchy red and purple texture gives me the impression of these things having a claylike texture, molded together from various substances. The Humanoid even remains rooted to the ground, as if sprouting up from the muck. I like the stomach eye and how in its idle animation is sways around lazily, as if unable to stay upright or trying to poorly imitate a human posture. Definitely feels like an uncanny person lookalike that are popular in horror spheres nowadays.

Then here’s the big bad Monster, a weird fleshy nodule with several branching tentacles, seemingly connected to it like various roots stemming from its source. I’m quite a big fan of weird, meaty monsters acting like overgrown plant life as horror concepts, so this Monster does appeal to me well. It retains the weird purple splotches of the Humanoid, but with more clear swirls and patterns, which makes sense since this is likely the more well-defined ‘true’ form. That big, wide eye is great too. A real sick design, and I’d love to be able to use something so alien and unusual alongside the rest of Pokemon’s roster, but alas…

I’ll wrap things up there, and while Pokestar Studios does have a couple other unique opponents to battle, these were the ones I felt most noteworthy of discussion. Once again, it’s a great shame that all of these interesting and unorthodox designs ended up being thrown to the wayside, forgotten and tucked away in a side activity unlikely to ever be referenced in the series again. The way that they break from Pokemon norms is what makes them so enticing, but also would explain why they’ve never returned. As I said earlier, they were likely designed with that in mind. Knowing that these designs would never get used again, the artists went all out and didn’t hold back by usual restrictions. I guess my main point is that it’s sad seeing what they’re capable of but usually can’t achieve. I love a lot of preexisting Pokemon of course, but seeing the more out-there official designs still does raise my curiosity on what more Could Be. If that makes sense. Ah well, that’s enough time spent in Hollywood for one article.

[Gen 5 Archive]

#pokemon #pokemon review #pokestar studios #pokemon bw #pokemon bw2

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