#i care so much about how things look on my desktop theme

[enidsinclair]

when you finally find a goncharov gifset you love but it’s been uploaded via mobile ( or they used tumblr’s new version to upload things that converts everything to text posts ) and it looks awful on your desktop theme </3

[light-yaers]

Take Care: Chapter One

Fic Masterpost | AO3 | Chapter List

Warnings: swearing, eventual smut, emotional themes. 

Word Count: 13k+

Chapter One

“Thank you so much for accepting me,” you said, stepping into Shannon Hart’s office, Head of Applications at Richmond university. “I’ve been so looking forward to finally getting into publishing and writing.”

Shannon gestured for you to sit opposite her. You dropped yourself down into the swivel chair facing her desk, as she cleared her throat and adjusted her sleeves. You stared at her thoughtfully, taking in the slight twitch of her brow and the vein popping out on her forehead.

“Are you okay, Shannon?” You frowned.

She intertwined her fingers and placed them on the desktop before her. “We’ve asked you here today to let you know, with great regret, that your placement at Pluto Press has been… mixed up.”

“Mixed up?”

“Royally.” Shannon stared you down.

“Royally how?” You leaned forward, all decorum going out the window immediately.

“Our paperwork was sorted wrong. It’s an internal admin error, one that’s– frankly– deeply embarrassing–”

“Just tell me what the deal is, okay, Shannon?” you said, trying not to yell at her to just say it.

Shannon cleared her throat again. “You weren’t the name that we sent to the Pluto Press administration. Which means… well, it means–”

You smacked your hand upon her desk, making her flinch. “I mean this in the nicest way, but for the love of God, spit it out.”

“Your placement at Pluto Press was filled by someone else.”

You squinted at her. “Someone else?”

“Yes.”

“But, I can still get a spot, right?” you asked.

“Regrettably not.”

“Not?”

Shannon nodded. “Not.”

You toyed between the urge to scream at the ceiling, or round-house kick the woman sat in front of you. Both seemed appealing, both seemed necessary, but instead you did nothing. You sat like a rock before her, ignoring the upbeat dump-dump of your heart beneath your ribcage. You weren’t an angry person, no, but this was the closest you’d been to booking into a rage room.

“So… you’re saying, I won’t be an intern at Pluto Press starting next week?” you said, trying to comprehend it fully yourself.

“Correct.” Shannon stayed frozen.

“So…” You leant forward, fully, leaning down on your arms and looking Shannon directly in the face. She gulped anxiously, with nerves, and for good reason. “What the fuck am I supposed to do now, Shannon?”

“Ah, well.” Shannon squeaked out. Sweat dotted her brow and as quickly leaned back in her chair. “This is what I wanted to discuss. Your options.”

“My options,” you repeated.

“Of which there are a few. One, you could defer the year and be ensured a space on this masters next year, with your original placement at Pluto Press–”

“Fuck no,” you said immediately. “Listen, Shannon. I’ve put off this masters for four fucking years. I’m not waiting another year. I mean, I’ve already moved to Richmond. I’ve taken out my student loans. So, abso-fucking-lutely not.”

Shannon’s eyebrow twitched intensely. “I was hoping you wouldn’t say that,” she whispered. “So, your second option.”

“How many options are there?”

“...Two.”

“So, this is my final option?”

“If you don’t wish to drop out completely, yes.” Shannon was a stone-cold fox, you could tell. As much as her eyebrow twitched and her brow glistened, she was certainly blunt and to the point. It was something you could admire, despite the want to storm out of her office.

“So, my final option is?”

Shannon leaned forward again, strongly. “There is one other placement available for this course. They’re new, and we were originally going to try them out with a student who wished to be a sports journalist, but…”

“But?”

“He changed his mind about the course and went into the fried chicken industry, instead.” You squinted at her quizzically. Shannon’s face stayed as still as a gargoyle. “It’s a social placement. You do Instagram uploads, copywriting, player profiles and articles, things like that.”

“Player profiles? For what?”

“Football.”

“Football?”

“AFC Richmond, to be exact.”

The day had gone from bad to worse within a matter of seconds. Not only had you been wrongfully pushed out of your publishing placement, but now your only option was to work for a fucking football team. Football had been something that went over your head from the start. If it wasn’t the fact that boys from the school football team, when you were twelve, laughed at you incessantly, then it was the visuals of grown men clutching their knees and whining on a pitch that made you hate it completely. Football was not your thing. Football wouldn’t allow you to publish your first novel.

You widened your eyes. “A fucking football team?”

Shannon winced, and it was like a layer shed off her in an instant. “Can I be utterly transparent with you?”

“Please.”

“I know it’s shit,” she said bluntly. You let out a huff in agreement. “But, you still have the opportunity to network. Big name footballers have connections, as does Rebecca Welton, the club owner. You’ll still have all the access to publishing opportunities that you’d get through Pluto Press, just… in a slightly unorthodox way. Your coursework will be slightly changed, and the term structures will be different to match up with the league, but.” Shannon shrugged. “This is still something worth doing. You can write on the side, too. And who doesn’t want to be around some attractive footballers?”

“Me,” you said plainly.

“Scratch that last part, then,” Shannon replied. For the first time since entering her office, she attempted to smile at you. It was almost frightening to look at.

So, it was fuck all. You had no choice. You’d moved into your flat two days before, a tube ride away from Pluto Press, and coincidentally a walk away from the Dogtrack. There was no way you were backing out now, not when you’d been deferring your application for years. This was a time where you had inspiration, motivation, and wanted to succeed. You had to strike while the iron was hot, even if that meant dealing with footballers, of all fucking people.

As much as you’d batted away Shannon’s comment about them, you had already heard of a few players that Richmond. Jamie Tartt was well-known, and you’d be lying if you hadn’t thought he was fit when you’d seen him on his girlfriends’ socials a while back. They were a different breed, though, so entirely excluded from the world that you existed in; far away from the stoicism of footballers and their swinging dicks that fell into one too many vaginas. You didn’t want to be another working woman in the background, especially in an industry that you knew fuck all about. But– this was the best option. It still got you the same opportunities, still gave you the time to write and work on your own novel.

You inhaled sharply and sighed deeply. Shannon stayed put, eyeing you up as she pursed her lips.

“Fine,” you said. “I’ll do it.”

You had less than a week to prepare. Not in terms of your masters or education, but mentally. You were thrusting yourself into the proverbial belly of the beast, a football club full of men who, most likely, smelled really fucking bad. You made a list in your head– Febreeze was right at the top. It wasn’t just about the uncertainty and horror of it all, it was also something that transcended that. What if they didn’t like you? What if this entire experiment went drastically wrong? You knew fuck all about football, and would be surrounded by those whose literal entire lives revolved around the sport.

You felt like an imposter more than anything. More than the rage of the fuck up. More than the fear of things going wrong with your degree. You were an imposter, entering into a world that wasn’t your own, being handed opportunities that others would die for.

That’s all that went through your head as you stood outside AFC Richmond, just off Nelson Road. It looked like a typical football ground from the outside– a green and vibrant field directly to the right, where someone on an industrial mower was cutting the grass. The car park was full of expensive vehicles; Lambos, Jags, Martins. As you focused your breathing, a hulking pitch black Jeep came careening around the corner. You flinched as the driver parked it in one of the top spots, next to a bright green monstrosity, so low to the ground that your knees felt weak just looking at it.

The driver side door of the Jeep burst open, and a man, dressed exactly like his fucking car, jumped out. His jeans were black, his t-shirt black, his leather jacket– black. Atop his head sat a close cut mop of black hair, and his beard was trimmed to absolute perfection, almost to the point of robotism. It was, you guessed it, black.

You stared at him with a mixture of confusion and utter amazement. Was this the Grim Reaper, come to take you away for your sins and tell you your life was all but over? He looked back at you with an indifferent sort of stare, one that penetrated deep into your chest and made you want to violently throw up, or run away immediately.

As he approached the double doored entrance, his back to you, he stopped suddenly. He turned around slowly and laid his dark eyes upon you. “You a fan?” he asked.

“What?” you stuttered out, taken aback by the deepness of his voice. There was a scratch to it, one that resembled a growl. Was this man actually real? He came across as some kind of mythical creature that represented a bad omen, or someone gruff enough to mend the goalposts with his bare hands.

“Meet and greets only happen after games,” he continued. Your face soured with amusement.

“I’m not here for a bloody meet and greet,” you let out. “Do I look like a football fan?” you added quickly, suddenly afraid that you looked like the kind of person to wait outside football stadiums, just to see players.

He shrugged. “I don’t fucking know.”

You took a step forward. “I’m here to see Rebecca Welton, actually. I just…” You glanced around the car park, trying to find the right words to say that you’d been afraid to go inside. “I just didn’t know whether to wait outside or not.”

He followed your eye movements, looking around at the cars alongside you. “Well, she doesn’t seem to have an office in the car park, does she,” he stated. You let out a small huff, embarrassed.

“No, I guess not.” You looked into his eyes, tracing the outline of his stoic face. He was sort of… soft around the edges. If that was even possible. “Do you know where her office is?”

“Do I look like a fucking tour guide?” he said bluntly, and you flinched backwards. Your expression dropped, replaced with something other than the tinge of softness you had before. This guy was an arsehole. An utter arsehole, wearing leather and too tight jeans. When it rained, you bet droplets trickled off him in grey washes, picking up the black dye off his stupid fucking clothes.

“Well,” you said, regarding him. “No, not a tour guide. Maybe the caretaker?”

He raised his brows. “The fucking caretaker?”

“Yeah.” You squinted at him. “I can picture you mowing some grass, fixing some posts, DIY and all that.”

He shuffled on his spot. “Who the fuck are you?”

You crossed your arms. “Someone who’s trying to find Rebecca Welton’s office. And you are?”

“Not the fucking caretaker,” he said, before he turned on his heels and headed to the door.

“Hey, wait!” you yelled. “Hold on!” You rushed towards the door, flashing him a vaguely apologetic stare, but you didn’t dare say one outloud. He didn’t deserve one.

He peered down at you, letting out a literal growl. You backed up slightly, looking at him in absolute awe. “Did you just growl at me?”

“I growl at everyone,” he said.

“Has anyone ever told you that’s a bit weird?”

“All the time. I don’t fucking care,” he said bluntly.

You shrugged. “Fair enough.”

A moment of awkwardly comfortable silence followed. He continued to peer down at you, flicking his eyes across your own, perhaps in an attempt to intimidate you. It didn’t work, not after you’d got under his skin by mistaking him for the caretaker. You raised your brows at him silently, pleading with him to just fucking tell you where to go. You understood that they probably didn’t have many mid-twenties girls around the club, but the least he could do was help, just this once.

He rolled his eyes quickly. “All the way down the corridor, up the stairs. Her office is right there.”

He pulled open the door, reluctantly standing to the side for you to go first. You smiled. “Thank you!” you exclaimed. You rushed inside, fast-walking down the corridor until you found the set of steps up to Rebecca’s office.

He stayed back, peering at you as you went on your way. Before he turned to head down the stairs, he found himself subtly smiling at the scene that played out priorly. You had guts, that’s what he gauged. You had guts and you weren’t afraid to use them.

Rebecca Welton was the most intimidating, yet beautiful, woman you’d ever laid eyes upon. As you sat opposite her in her office, cup of tea in her grasp and hand moving through the air as she talked, you couldn’t take your eyes off the alarming look on her face. She was glowing, talking smartly and confidently, while you all but cowered before her like another male suitor.

“Did you catch any of that?” she asked abruptly, bringing you back into the room. You’d heard nothing, not when you’d been looking at the almost perfect way her face moved when she spoke.

You widened your eyes. “Yes. All of it. In perfect detail.”

“Great.” She stood up quickly, downing the remaining contents of her teacup. “I’ll introduce you to the team. Come on,” she said, rounding her desk.

You scrambled up from your seat and followed her immediately. Her shoes clicked upon the floor dramatically, as you made your way down the stairs and back through the corridor you came from. She took you down another set of stairs to the lower portion of the stadium. You passed multiple offices, and a gym, before she whisked you past a few back rooms.

“Locker room here.” She pointed to her left as you passed. You stuck your head around the corner quickly, taking in a wave of red and blue. “Manager’s office,” she added from a bit further up. “Beyond that is the kit room, and physio on the right.” Rebecca stopped in the corridor suddenly, making you gasp. She let out a breath, before turning on her heels and heading back down the way you both came.

You followed her without question, clutching onto your tote bag for dear life as she whisked you through the grounds. Her legs were too long to keep up with fully, so you were forced to partially jog behind her every few seconds.

“Um, Rebecca?” you asked.

“Hmm.”

“Do I get an office space?”

She stopped again, next to the gym. “Of course,” she said, peering down at you. “It’s there.” She pointed to the right, further away from the gym. A small room is all you saw, devoid of windows, with nothing more than a desk sat in the partial darkness. “I’m sure you can make it… homely.”

“Yes,” you said, smiling up at her from fear. Now wasn’t the time to be criticising your workplace amenities. Maybe when you’d paid your dues, or done a good job, could you ask for something more.

Besides, Rebecca seemed incredibly eager to be done with this tour. She hadn’t exactly been enthralled at your arrival, nor did she seem keen to talk to you for longer than she had to. You’d heard things about her before– a cheating husband, enough money to buy a skyscraper in Dubai, probably. You did your best to keep up with her, avoiding personal questions and trying to retain everything she told you.

The two of you turned the corner, headed for a long corridor, with daylight streaming in at the end. This was obviously the tunnel where players entered onto the pitch. You’d never stepped foot in a stadium of any kind, let alone been on the under-layers like the players themselves. As the both of you made your way to the doors, you imagined what it would be like for them– anticipation, nerves. You’d be shitting yourself, probably.

“I’ll take you to the team, now,” Rebecca explained. “Do you like football?”

“No,” you said immediately. From the look on her face, she wasn’t mad. Maybe this was as good a time as any to explain that you knew fuck all about all this, and actually didn’t want it.

Rebecca peered back at you. “Not at all?”

You sighed. “I know nothing about football, if I’m being honest. I’m a writer, not a sportswoman. I don’t care for sweaty men, or their reasons for fighting one another on a field. I’ll do my job, that I can assure you Ms. Welton, but I won’t deny that I couldn’t give a shit about this game.”

Rebecca slowed her speed, letting you catch up with her. Her quizzical expression quickly turned into a triumphant smile. “Fantastic,” she said. She was being genuine, and you had no idea why. “Well, come on!” she exclaimed, as the two of you burst through the double doors and onto the pitch.

The players bundled up and down the pitch with speed, kicking about a ball as they were split into two teams. You watched them for a few moments, following their movements as they scrambled up and down, kicking the ball between them, until someone finally went for a shot– he got it, but no one seemed happy about it. That was number nine, Jamie Tartt.

“I was wide open!” number twenty-four exclaimed.

“Well, so was I. So, I went for it. Sue me,” Tartt replied, in his staunch Mancunian accent. He stuck out his tongue like a schoolboy as he walked away, leaving number twenty-four with a sour expression on his face. He was comforted by a few others, telling him to brush it off.

You and Rebecca approached the coaches. “Coach Lasso,” Rebecca began, prompting the men to turn around. “This here is our new placement from Richmond university. The one I told you about last week.”

A man with the largest moustache you’d ever seen regarded you. “Oh, yes! I remember now. Welcome!” he said happily, shaking your hand abruptly. You shuffled your falling tote bag back onto your arm, smiling at him awkwardly as he kept shaking your hand.

“Great to be here,” you muttered.

“Call me Ted. You and I are both newbies, you know. Same as Coach here,” Ted said, gesturing to a man beside him. He wore mirrored glasses and crossed his arms intimidatingly. He said nothing, only sent you a nod in hello. “So, what brought you to us, huh? Got a love for football? Got a burning Tobey Maguire for the beautiful game?”

Tobey Maguire?

You looked to the other coach for help. “Burning desire,” he said bluntly.

“I’m trying out my own version of Cockney rhyming slang. Tobey Maguire, desire. Sylvester Stallone, the phone. So far it’s all actors, but we’re getting somewhere.” Ted peered down at you with a cartoonish smile. He was like no one you’d ever met before, someone so overly happy that you could hardly believe it.

“You’re doing… great,” you let out, from lack of what else to say. “But, well– I don’t know a lot about football, but–”

“You and me both, sister,” Ted interrupted.

You laughed awkwardly. “But, I’m happy to be here, and excited for the next year.” A lie, but one that needed to be said. You weren’t here to fuck up this club, or get overly buddy-buddy with its players. You were going to do your job, get your degree and use it afterwards. That was the goal, but during that, you had no Tobey Maguire to upset the team or the management.

Ted and his second in command, Coach Beard, turned around to the pitch. You stood next to Rebecca, who stood next to them, looking out at the players like they were being judged for the next season of So, you think you can dance?

Ted blew on his whistle shrilly. “Gather around, boys!” he yelled. The men obeyed, halting play as they all gathered before their new coaches, with some of them looking more than exhausted.

You couldn’t imagine the physical damage all of them went through, or how fit they had to actually be. You could hardly reach a level six in your bleep test at school, let alone be able to sprint up and down a pitch for two forty-five minute halves.

“Where’s Roy?” Ted asked, prompting one player to appear through the hubbub. When you met his eye, you almost choked on air. It was the guy, the not caretaker. The one that growled at you not an hour ago. “Ah, there he is. Listen up fellas! This little lady here is the placement from Richmond college–”

“Uni!” one of the players yelled.

Ted shot him a wide-eyed look. “God, you call college something different, too? Anyway, yes. Richmond uni. She’ll be doing a few things around here for us. Not PR, but keeping up with player profiles on the website, small updates, and all that jazz about the season coming up, maybe an article or two.”

As Ted spoke, you forced yourself to look anywhere but at number six– Roy Kent. He was staring you down like you’d done something ungodly, like you’d burned down his house or kicked his dog. His stance was one that you’d never seen either, like he was constantly on high alert and ready to strike a punch if needed.

“This here is Roy Kent, the captain of the team.” Ted gestured to Roy. He growled at you. You frowned at him. “You’ll be working with Roy for the next week on player profiles–”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Roy stepped forward. I’ve told you all before, I don’t get involved in PR or website shit,” Roy spoke up. “Get one of the other lads to do it.”

“It’s just for the time being, Roy. Just until she gets acquainted with the grounds.” Ted tried. “As much as I’m happy not to have you in front of a camera– believe me, that’s up to you– as a captain, and as your coach, I’m asking you to do this for the newest member of the Richmond family. Okay?”

You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. All you wanted was to start and not stop for a year, so time could go faster. All you wanted was twenty pairs of eyes to stop looking you up and down like something shiny and brand-new.

Roy’s fists balled tightly, until his knuckles went white. “Fine.”

You let out a long breath. “Great,” you muttered. Roy’s eyes found your face, and you looked at him with no effort to be nice. You and he both knew that this was going to be long and annoying. It was better to get it out in the first place than to keep it all in for a year.

After meeting the team, you headed to your shoebox of an office. You had the day to set it up and make your own, before things kicked off. Ted and Beard were still running coaching for the rest of the day, so you were effectively on the lower floor by yourself. You set up your office, popped down your laptop and made a new folder in your documents. You went through your upcoming assignments, and started planning for what you could do. Rebecca gave you the various passwords for the social accounts, which you started filing through to get a sense of what they posted.

It was all the type of shit that your mum would like on Facebook. Brilliant.

If this was what you had to do to get to where you wanted, then so be it. It would all be worth it when you had connections and a network around you. That was the goal.

You opened your ongoing novel on your computer and scanned the pages. This was the endgame; to get the baby published. It was fiction, not once mentioning any sport, but it was all you wanted. Years of delay had led you here, so you had to embrace it while you had the chance to. Downtime was something that you’d have an abundance of, which was another perk, you supposed.

By four in the afternoon, the players tickled back inside. They passed your office with subtle curiosity, peering around the corner as you sat at your desk, filing through emails and starting on a subtle plan for your first assignment, due in at the end of the week. As soon as you’d got the courage up to grab Roy for a quick chat, you could get started.

When the players began filing out of the locker room to head home, you packed up your own belongings. You passed a few of them in the corridor, smiling sweetly and saying subtle hellos as you made your way through, until you almost slammed into one of them.

“Oof!” you exclaimed before him; it was number twenty-four, the one you’d seen before on the pitch.

Gently, he held you steady by your shoulders to stop you falling. “My apologies,” he said kindly.

“Don’t worry. I’m still getting used to this place.”

“It can be a lot to begin with, but I’m sure you’ll get used to it very soon,” he reassured you. You smiled up at him, before he stuck out his hand. “I’m Sam Obisanya. It’s nice to meet you properly.”

You took his hand. “You too. I’m excited to get to know you all.”

“Well, if you want, come and join us later this week. It’s Isaac’s birthday, so we’re all going out to celebrate.”

“Oh,” you said bashfully. “I don’t know, I don’t want to intrude.”

“It’s fine, bruv,” another player turned the corner from the locker room. Isaac McAdoo. “Come along. The more the merrier, you get me.”

Player Colin Hughes appeared in the doorway after him. “Definitely. Come and join in on the fun.”

“Especially before the season starts next weekend,” Isaac added. “Gotta get our freak on while we still can.”

McAdoo and Hughes left together, and you got the sense that they were two players who had a long history of friendship. You turned back to Sam and shot him a smile. “Count me in, then,” you said.

“Brilliant. I’ll put it in our group chat,” Sam said sweetly, before he made his leave.

You turned to the locker room, pleasantly surprised at how that had all gone. If all of the guys were like that, then you’d have no issue with them whatsoever. But, then came Roy. You entered the locker room hesitantly, scooting out of the way as other players said their goodbyes for the day. To the right was the manager’s office, where Ted and Beard still sat at their desks. Directly opposite the door, however, was exactly who you wanted.

You approached Roy, as he pulled on a pair of shoes, and cleared your throat. He looked up at you slowly, resting a hand on his thigh as he lazily skittered his eyes across you.

“So, you’re definitely not the caretaker,” you said, in an attempt to diffuse the tension.

“The last lawn I mowed was my grandad’s when I was nine,” he replied bluntly.

“Noted. I can put that in your player profile, if you wanted.” Sarcasm fell from your mouth, but you got the sense that Roy didn’t appreciate it. He growled, going back to doing up his laces. “I just wanted to talk to you about that, actually. About what Ted said.”

“If you think I’m going to gab with you about the team for the next week then you’re a lot dumber than I gave you credit for in the car park,” he said plainly.

You waved at him in dismissal quickly. “No, no, that’s what I meant. I really don’t need you to do that,” you said transparently. Roy looked up at you with interest, waiting for you to continue. You let out a sigh. “I’m not going to pretend that all this is a dream come true for me, the same way that you won’t pretend it’s something you give a fuck about helping me with. I can go around the players on my own, don’t worry.”

Roy finished tying his laces, before he stood. He towered over you, but the intimidation he’d displayed priorly was starting to wear off. You got a sense that he was just like this, all of the time. You’d read a few articles about him earlier, about his start at Sunderland and his triumphant years at Chelsea, before he moved to AFC Richmond. Roy Kent seemed like a player entrenched with respect. He was one of the greats, that’s what every article had said. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but you were intrigued to see it all for yourself.

“Fair enough,” he finally agreed.

You let out an innate sigh of relief. “Great. Thank you,” you said, before you turned and headed for the door. Before you left, however, you stopped abruptly. The locker room was empty now, bar the coaches in the other office. It was just the two of you, and you had a nagging feeling within your gut. “You can tell, can’t you?” you asked.

You turned back to Roy. “Tell what?” he replied.

“That I don’t want to be here.”

“You were stood outside the building this morning like you were walking to your fucking death,” he said. “Of course, I could fucking tell.”

“Just double checking,” you muttered, subtly embarrassed.

“Why are you here then? If you don’t want to be,” he asked, grabbing his bag from the bench. He stood to full height again and took a few steps toward you. It was only then that you realised he was assuming for you to both walk out the building together.

You stepped out of the locker room, falling into step next to Roy in the corridor. “The university fucked up. This was the only placement they had left,” you admitted.

“That’s fucking shit.” Roy’s candour was something you were growing to appreciate, almost. “So, you don’t like football?”

“I don’t know a single thing about it, besides it being people kicking a ball on a field.”

Roy let out a long, low whistle. “Fucking hell. No wonder you didn’t want to come inside.”

As the two of you emerged into the car park, you felt lighter than you had all day. Roy headed to his Jeep, and you stayed a few paces back. “It’s not… ideal.”

“That’s an overly nice way to put it,” he said, looking back at you. “And it’s a fucking lie. Why are you doing this to yourself?”

You shrugged. “I want to publish my book. This is a way to make it happen.”

“Fair enough,” Roy said, jumping into his Jeep. He rolled the window down and switched on the engine. “Just don’t fucking include me in it, alright?”

You scoffed. “You think I want to write about you? Don’t flatter yourself, Captain.”

Roy winced. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he muttered, before he put his car in gear and sped out of the car park. He left you without a second glance, turning onto the street and careening down the road as fast as he could, just to get away from you.

You found yourself walking home with a strange sense of peace. Yes, the situation wasn’t in your favour. Yes, you’d already fucked up and called the team captain the caretaker before you’d even stepped foot in the club, but things didn’t feel bad. The boys were nice, the coaches were welcoming, and even Rebecca Welton didn’t give a shit that you knew nothing. Things were slotting into place faster than you expected, but you were happy about it. As you made your way through Richmond, back to your flat, you realised that you didn’t feel awful. You felt almost happy, content, ready to take on the remainder of your first week and bosh out your first piece of coursework.

You spent the evening on Google, looking up the history of the Dogtrack, of AFC Richmond, of their star players. You learned that Jamie Tartt was on loan from Manchester City for a season, which made things all the more interesting when it came to his sportsmanship with the rest of the current team. You watched old game highlights, not understanding a single thing they were doing on screen. You gave up after a few hours of them kicking a ball around, too tired from the prior stress of last week to stay awake any longer.

The next morning, you got to work. You made an announcement to the locker room, while the guys pulled on their shin pads and football boots. “Over the next few days, I kindly ask that you all fill in a small worksheet for me. A bit about your backgrounds, your current positions, your birthdays, even. It’s for the updated player profiles on the website, and I’m on a deadline, so please do this as soon as you can!” you explained.

Sam was the first to hand his in, doing it almost immediately after you made your announcement. He dropped it into the small basket on your desk before he headed out to training, shooting you and a small smile as he left you at your desk. Soon after, McAdoo, Hughes, Bumbercatch and Zoreaux followed suit. You had enough information to start.

By the end of the day, you had almost half of the profiles written. You’d expected the workload to be more, or something intensely focused on football plays, but this was piss. You’d definitely be done by the Sunday deadline, just a few days away.

As the days flew by, you got better at approaching players on their own. You made yourself known and didn’t pester (unless they needed it), just reminded them of the task at hand. Isaac's birthday celebrations loomed ever closer, which meant the guys were in a boisterous and excitable mood for the final half of the week. They would play games in the locker room after training, laugh in the gym during work out hours, and pass by your office, waving at you with chuckles on their lips.

By Thursday, you’d cornered Jamie after training.

“Come on, man. It’s not hard to do. I just need it done by tomorrow, so I can write them all up for Sunday, is all,” you pleaded with him.

He took off his football shirt swiftly, making you roll your eyes. “I don’t have the time this evening. Got a prior arrangement, you get me.”

“I really don’t care about your prior arrangement, Jamie. I need this done. It’ll take you two fucking minutes, literally.”

“Sorry, love,” he said, and the patronising tone in his voice was one that you couldn’t stand. You were older than him by a few years, yet he was acting so inherently high and mighty. “I can’t change what evening I get waxed or the lady gets upset.”

“Waxed?” You grimaced.

Suddenly, a shrill high-pitched voice rounded the corner into the locker room. “Alright, boys!” it yelled, and when you turned around, you almost collapsed to the floor. Keeley fucking Jones stood in the middle of the locker room, beaming at all the boys with a genuine smile, and wearing an outfit that you’d never think would work on paper, but it absolutely worked in practice; on her.

You froze where you were, as she peered around the room and met Jamie’s face. “Ready to go, babe?” she asked, before she caught your eye. She smiled and shrugged her shoulders in greeting. “Who’s this?”

Jamie shrugged on a new shirt, packing some of his belongings. “New social person, or somethin’.”

“Social placement,” you corrected him, looking only at Keeley. “Sorry to stare, it’s just… you’re Keeley Jones, aren’t you?”

“The one and only!” she exclaimed. “You’re a newbie, are you? Welcome to Richmond.” She leant towards you warmly, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder in greeting. “Now, I’ve gotta get this one here to his waxing appointment.”

“Oh, sure,” you muttered, peering back at Jamie and trying not to imagine exactly what needed waxing. It was almost traumatising. “Before you go, take this, though,” you added, before you handed her one of your worksheets to her. “I really need him to fill this out by tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry,” Keeley said, folding it neatly and putting it in her bag. “I’ll make sure he gets it done.” She winked at you, making you blush.

The final lads trickled out of the locker rooms, while you reminded each of them to get the worksheet done. A few picked up a new copy, others nodded at you in agreement, but Roy Kent– he didn’t so much as growl as he passed you for the door.

You followed him immediately, rushing down the hallway to meet him.

“Are you giving me the silent treatment or something?” you asked. He growled in response. You scoffed. “You definitely are.”

“Excuse me if I’m not used to nagging uni students getting on my back,” he replied.

“It’s been years since I stopped being a uni student, Roy. I’m in bed by ten thirty every night, I’ll have you know.”

“A boring, nagging uni student, then.”

“Ouch,” you muttered, feeling a slight sting, but you weren’t going to let him phase you. “Have you done the worksheet yet?” you asked. He let out another growl, to which you peered up at him with a blunt expression. “Please, just get it done by tomorrow.”

“Only if you piss off and leave me alone.”

You stopped in the hallway abruptly. “Done and done,” you said from behind him. He kept walking towards the car park, looking back when he realised you weren’t doing it just for show.

You walked back down the hallway, the way you came, as you went for a different exit. Roy stopped walking without your knowledge, furrowing his brows at you as you turned a corner and disappeared. He readjusted his grip on his gym bag, sighing out of his nose.

“Fucks sake,” he whispered harshly, before he entered the car park, door slamming behind him with an echo.

You woke in the morning feeling anxious. It wasn’t just because today would be the first time you socialised with the lads outside the club, but today was the last, easy day that you had to get the remaining worksheets. Your deadline was in two days, and you wouldn’t see the players after today for the entire weekend. It was crunch time, and as much as you wanted Roy and Jamie to be easy and mouldable, you expected the absolute opposite.

Your anxiety dimmed when you arrived in the morning to a full tray of completed worksheets in your office. All but one had been filled out and left for you– and by no surprise, Roy Kent was the last.

“Fucks sake,” you muttered under your breath. You hoisted yourself from your chair and made your way out the office, headed for the locker room. There was a certain confidence in your walk, reserved only for when you were at the end of your tether.

Roy was a grown man. Was he really incapable of filling out a simple worksheet? It drove you insane that he was one of those people who intentionally didn’t do something, even when he’d been explicitly asked to multiple times. Like a child who did the opposite of what their parents said, or when your mum tells you to do something that you were planning on doing yourself, but now don’t want to because she asked you herself.

As you approached the locker room, you let out a whining “Roy!” loud enough that everyone could hear you. You turned into the room, flickering your eyes across the players.

Roy wasn’t there. “Where the fuck is he?” you asked Isaac.

Isaac shrugged. “Think he’s already out on the pitch.”

You made your way out to the pitch, filling the hallways with the same whine that you’d released previously. If this was what it resorted to, then so be it. If you had to make Roy hate you even more just to do this damn worksheet, then you’d fucking do it.

Ted turned to you as you stormed onto the pitch. “Howdy!” he exclaimed. “Jeesh, did someone wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning? I did that once, too, when I first moved here and slept on the opposite side of the bed. It was crazy, like the universe was all mixed up and upside down. I almost threw up.”

“Where the hell is Roy?” you asked, ignoring him as you looked out to the pitch. The boys were milled around, waiting for the others to come out so they could start warming up properly.

“Well, he’s right–” Ted began, pointing out to the field. He shimmied his finger around, like a cat obsessed with a laser pointer, before he dropped his hand in defeat. “He was right there before.”

“He’s avoiding me,” you let out with a scoff. “This is fucking unbelievable. He’s a literal child.”

“Hey now,” Ted said. “When I see him, I’ll send him to your office, okay?”

You nodded, pissed off beyond comprehension. “Okay.”

The day went by too quickly, but you managed to get all the other profiles written. Not once did Roy come to your office, and when the guys came back in at the end of training, he was nowhere to be seen. You approached Colin, who said that he’d been right behind him, last he’d seen. That was the same as Sam, as Isaac, as the rest.

Roy Kent’s back up career should have been a magician’s glamorous fucking assistant with how much he’d been able to disappear without a fucking trace.

“That’s it. I’m going to kill him,” you said, leaned against the locker room frame as the guys got themselves ready for the evening.

Sam turned to you reassuringly. “He might come tonight, who knows?”

“I can give you his number, if you want?” Isaac suggested. “Can track him down and make him pay, and that.”

You smiled. “Please do. I don’t care if I have to call him twelve times, I’ll fucking do it.”

“Why do you need it done so badly anyway?” Jamie chimed in, shaking out his football shirt.

You copied Roy’s number into your phone from Isaac’s, sighing as you looked back to the room. The boys stared at you expectantly. “You guys know how this placement is for my masters degree, right? Which means I have certain assignments and coursework to get done. This is my first one, and I need all the players to participate, or it’ll be a big, fat fail.”

“Oh shit,” Isaac said. “So, you get graded for this?” You nodded sullenly. Isaac puffed out his chest abruptly. “Listen here, boys! Any of you see Roy, you get him to fill out this fucking sheet, kapeesh?”

You smiled, feeling bashful. “Thanks, Isaac.”

“No problem, girl. Now, turn that frown upside down. We’re getting drunk tonight!”

The locker room erupted into cheers. Jamie sprayed far too much Lynx in the air, and Colin almost cracked his head open as he jumped up and down on a bench, but even you couldn’t deny the atmosphere was electric. They were all good in their own ways, just some were a lot harder to let their walls down.

As the guys filed out of the room, you peered over at Roy’s cubby. Gently, you walked over and placed an unfilled sheet on his shelf. You stuck a small post-it to the paper– do this for me and i’ll never come to you for anything else.

You left the locker room in silence, trying not to worry too much about having incomplete work for your deadline. You had Roy’s number now, anyway, so even if it was something small over text you were certain you could get something. A crumb, maybe. You didn’t panic, not yet. Panicking would be for the Saturday scaries, and the remainder of your Sunday. Panicking wasn’t for now, as you followed the boys out to the car park and piled into the front seat of Sam’s car. A convoy of you left for Isaac’s house, before you all hit up the club later in the evening.

By the time the sun had set, your legs were jelloid from dancing, and your abs were coming in from laughing. You’d gabbed with Keeley for hours at the house, and were still gabbing now on the way to the club.

“What is it with Roy? I just don’t get it,” you asked.

“What, you mean his rugged good looks, or the fact he’s emotionally constipated to the max?” Keeley replied, and you let out a scoff.

“Definitely emotional constipation. He’s not that hot,” you let out. Keeley’s mouth dropped open.

“Oh, please. I know you don’t like him, but you have to admit that he’s gorgeous.”

“I won’t admit that, because all he’s been to me is ugly.” You stuck out your chin stubbornly.

Keeley smiled deviously. “Call him.”

“Absolutely not,” you said, shaking your head. “Hard pass.”

“Just call him. As soon as you get him on the phone, he can’t avoid you. And if he does, he’s a real arsehole. This is for your degree, for fucks sake.”

“I don’t think he knows that,” you said timidly.

“Then tell him! Yell it at him! Get him to do it.” She urged you, and you had no choice.

As the guys strolled forward towards the club, you and Keeley found yourself leant against a wall in a quiet corner. You found Roy’s number in your phone and dialled before you could chicken out. You tried not to vomit when it rang, and with each dial sound you were close to calling it a day.

After five or so rings, he actually picked up. “Who the fuck is it?” he asked, his voice gravelly over the line.

“Roy!” you and Keeley let out in sync, both equally surprised that he’d actually answered.

“Yeah. Who the hell is this?”

“Roy.” You took over, letting out a shaking breath. “It’s–”

He sighed, cutting you off. “I know who it is, now. I swear to God, if you’re asking me about that fucking sheet again, I’ll blow my top.”

All of your fear dissipated. It turned into immediate rage. “Oh, you fucking arse, Roy Kent,” you let out harshly. “I asked you to do this one thing, something that’s important, and you chose to avoid me all day instead.”

“I wasn’t avoiding you!” he yelled back. “I was busy, and I didn’t need you breathing down my fucking neck even more!”

“Oh, fuck you!” you screamed. “Just fucking get it done– please!”

“Why do you even fucking need it?” he asked, booming his voice over the line. You sucked in a deep breath, trying to control yourself.

“I need it for my d–”

“Know what, I don’t actually care,” he cut you off. “I don’t fucking get involved in club PR shit.”

“This isn’t just for the club, Roy–” you pleaded angrily, but he wouldn’t listen.

“The other guys do, but I don’t. I don’t want the fucking marketing collaborations, the articles, the profiles, whatever the fuck else your job actually is. I’m too old to fucking deal with this shit.”

“Are you fucking serious?” you exploded. “Do you hear yourself right now? You’re a professional footballer, Roy. This is part of the fucking job!”

“Good-fucking-bye,” he said.

“Hey, wa–!” you yelled, but the line went dead before you could get another word in. You called back, but the line went to voicemail immediately. You assumed he’d blocked your number. “I’m going to– I’m going to fucking–”

“Use your words, babe,” Keeley said, trying to calm you down. Soon, though, your anger turned to tears. Your eyes started watering, and you sniffed back snot. Keeley quickly wrapped her arms around you. “Hey now, hey, come on,” she crooned sweetly. “It’ll be okay.”

“My first assignment and I’ve already fucked up. It’ll be docked at 40% for being incomplete,” you explained. Keeley pulled back, looking at you softly.

“I’m sorry, babe. Can you tell them he was being an arse?”

“I don’t know. They might not believe me.”

“It’s Roy Kent. Everyone knows he’s a prick.” Keeley gently brushed a few strands of hair behind your ears. “Come on. Let’s have some fun and try to forget about this tonight, okay?��

“Okay.” You sniffed, breathing out to try and expel the anxiety from your stomach. “I need a drink,” you said.

Keeley twisted her arm in yours. The two of you walked down the street together, with Keeley cracking jokes to cheer you up. “I think you need more than one drink, to be honest,” she whittled on, and you allowed yourself to relax. Just for the evening, just for then.

When you got home, you sent Roy a drunk text. It was short and to the point, and when you woke up, you didn’t have a reply. You weren’t expecting one, not after that phone call. You read over the text, over and over, imagining what Roy must feel like.

This was for my degree, my first assignment is due on Sunday. It’ll be incomplete without you.

You didn’t even know if he’d read it, but you were past the point of trying. You’d done all you could, and still he’d denied you. This was on him, not you.

Roy spent his Friday evening in anguish. Sat at his dining table with a beer, he got out a crumpled version of your worksheet from his gym bag. He looked over the questions he’d already answered– his birthday, his prior positions through the years, but the one question that made him want to rage was still unanswered: What do you want from your career in the future?

The future for Roy was different to that of McAdoo, and Tartt, and Obisanya. Roy Kent’s future was up and coming, and he knew it wouldn’t involve running around a pitch anymore. Seeing that question hadn’t just made him upset, it had ruined his entire week. So, he’d avoided you like the plague, he’d spent every night doing the same thing; trying to fucking answer it and getting nowhere.

So, he’d decided to say fuck it, and not do it at all. After he’d hung up on you that night, his anger at you quickly turned to guilt. On Monday, he’d apologise and hand it in, just without that question answered. But for now, he wanted to sit in silence, read the latest Dan Brown novel he had, and drink beer until he fell asleep on the sofa.

Roy turned off his phone for the rest of the weekend.

You slept with yours the entire weekend, but still got no reply from Roy. You wanted to scream at him, tell him that he was an entitled arse, but you knew it’d be useless. Roy Kent obviously didn’t give a shit about you, so why would he care about your insults? You spent your Sunday compiling the profiles that you had already, putting them together to make something coherent. On the front page, you had to specify that one player had not completed the task, which would be your downfall. When you submitted your assignment, you slammed your laptop shut and immediately went to bed. You didn’t want to stay up thinking about it, or think about the email that you’d have in your inbox tomorrow, saying how it would be docked at 40% for being incomplete.

You slept like shit, but still you rose on Monday morning. The walk to Nelson Road was particularly bleak, with black clouds bustling over Richmond and rain on the forecast for the next few days. The atmosphere at the stadium was tense, too, what with the first game of the season being that weekend. The boys were all conserving their energy, all working hard. When you arrived at your office, you flicked on the light– a crumpled worksheet lay on your desk.

The name at the top– Roy Kent.

He’d done the majority, but crossed out the final question. You wondered if he’d done that as an apology, or as an attempt to piss you off further. You’d texted him about your deadline, told him that it was on Sunday. Had he not even opened your message? You picked up his sheet and read it through, trying to keep at bay the anger that you felt in your chest. Maybe he hadn’t meant it to be, but this was cruel. He’d given you enough to make a decent profile, but a day late. It came across like he was laughing in your face.

Quickly, before you lost your nerve, you picked up the worksheet and booked it to the locker room. You stormed down the corridor, turning into the room strongly. You didn’t look at anyone else, just eyes forward, and latched upon the number six at the top of Roy’s blue cubby opposite the door. The boys stopped talking, going utterly silent at your arrival.

Roy turned to you, shooting you a quizzical look. He peered down at the worksheet in your hands, then back up at your blunt and glassy-eyed expression.

“What?” he asked plainly.

You responded by thrusting the worksheet into his chest. He grabbed hold of it, not expecting an altercation this early in the morning. You stepped back, exhaling from your nose, looking at him with such disappointment, before you left them to it.

Roy looked at the worksheet in his hands, utterly confused as to why you gave it back after trying so hard to get it in the first place. He glanced around the room, taking in the pursed lip expressions of his teammates.

“What the fuck just happened?” he asked them, booming.

“Her deadline was yesterday, bruv,” Isaac said. Tension descended over the room.

“Deadline for what?” Roy asked.

“Her degree, Roy. This was her first assignment,” Sam added.

“How the fuck was I supposed to know that?” Roy said, furrowing his brows.

“She tried to tell you, man,” Colin joined in. “On the phone with Keeley.”

“And in a text.” Jamie pointed to Colin, before looking at Roy. “Keeley told me that she sent you a message that evening, explaining why she needed it.”

“Got docked at 40%, innit,” Isaac added, pulling up his socks.

Roy’s eyes found a spot on the wall and zoned out in realisation. He’d turned his phone off all weekend. “Fuuuuuuuck,” he breathed out.

As much as Roy wanted to be left alone, he wasn’t cruel. If he’d known it was for your degree, he would have grown the fuck up and handed it in sooner. Now, as you sat at your desk and read over the reply from your professor, probably over and over again, he felt awful. It’d only been a week, and he knew you didn’t even want to be doing this specific placement. He felt like an arsehole, a real, fucking arsehole.

At training, he could hardly focus. The thought of you, sat at your desk, pissed off, upset, writing another Instagram caption or article that you couldn’t give a shit about, made him angry at himself. Roy had never gone to uni, or done a masters. From the age of nine, he’d been destined to be a professional footballer. He’d got lucky, alongside working hard for the entirety of his career. He knew you also worked hard, just from the fact you put yourself in a shit position to get what you wanted. That took guts, even Roy could admit that.

When he missed another assist during training, his third miss for the day, he stomped his feet on the pitch and let out a loud, “Fuck this!”

Roy pulled off his bib, throwing it at Nate, the kit man, before he stormed off the pitch. His boots clattered against the concrete floor as he skidded his way through the stadium, all the way to your office. He didn’t knock, but instead bombarded his way inside.

You let out a small gasp at his arrival, but stayed sat down, glued to your spot.

“Why didn’t you fucking tell me it was for your degree?” he boomed. “I would have fucking handed it over sooner if you had.”

“Why would that make any difference?” you said, keeping your voice steady.

“Because it’s not just for the club, it’s for something you’re working towards.”

“So, you’re saying, if it was only for the club and not myself too, you wouldn’t have done it at all?”

“Fuck no. I don’t do PR shit,” he said bluntly.

“Even if it was my job to do it? Even though it was something you had a responsibility to contribute towards?” you said, raising your brows at him. “That’s no fucking better, Roy.”

“I just–” he stuttered. “I didn’t mean to fuck this up for you, that’s what I mean.”

“It is what it is.” You shuffled some papers on your desk, rearranging your notebooks just to keep yourself busy.

“Isaac told me you’d get a bad mark,” Roy said.

“Isaac is right,” you confirmed.

“Well, now I feel like an arsehole.” Roy breathed in deeply, and exhaled sharply.

“You were an arsehole, Roy,” you said immediately, strongly. “But, it’s done now. This was the only assignment I had that included the whole team, anyway. So, from now on, I’ll be sure to stay far far away from you.”

Roy short-circuited for a moment. He opened and shut his mouth a few times, he balled his fists, he shuffled on the spot. He looked like a robot that had lemonade poured on his circuit. His jaw clenched, and you watched in awe at the sheer skill he used to tense his body in such a way.

“Roy?” you asked, concerned.

“Fucks sake!” he exploded, before he left your office immediately. You got up from your desk and zoomed to the door, watching him walk away from the field and to the locker room instead, muttering to himself all the same.

You didn’t see him for the remainder of the day. You bumped into Ted on your way out the stadium, to which he shot you a perked brow look. You let out a long sigh, followed by a slightly awkward chuckle.

“Well, what a day,” you said.

“You could say that again,” he agreed. “The first match is on the horizon, and our captain walked out mid practice session.”

You winced. “Sorry about that,” you apologised.

“Oh, please, it’s not your fault,” Ted reassured you. “Gotta say, it’s not the first time a player has abandoned us halfway through the day, but at least it was today instead of on Saturday.”

“Wait” You stopped in the corridor, right before the doors to the car park. “He didn’t come back afterwards?”

Ted squinted at you. “You didn’t know? He flew off into the wind like one of the Wicked Witch of the East’s monkey henchmen. One second he was yelling obscenities on the pitch, and the next he’d driven off in his Jeep.”

You let out a stuttered breath, trying to compute Ted’s words. Roy had vanished after storming into your office, and no one knew where the fuck he’d disappeared to. It didn’t make sense, and you didn’t think this ordeal would mean that much to him in the aftermath. You weren’t trying to beat him up after what he’d done, as much as it had hurt you and pissed you off about your mark. This was odd, though, and incredibly out of character for Richmond’s captain.

“Weird,” you let out.

“Really weird,” Ted repeated. “But, who are we to question a football star?”

You squinted at him. “Isn’t that your job?”

Ted shrugged. “Hell if I know.”

You walked home, stunned into silence, trying to figure out what was actually going through Roy’s skull. You were half-tempted to text him, but you still didn’t know if he’d blocked you or not. You almost wanted to reassure him that it was fine, even though he was the one that fucked up your assignment. It was odd how that worked, wasn’t it? How those who had been done wrong felt the need to check in after the wrongdoer realised their actions. You had no reason to tell Roy it was fine, but you still wanted to. If his outburst had told you anything, it was that he felt bad about it all. That was good, you supposed. That meant he wasn’t as emotionally constipated as you’d thought.

Roy ignored you for the next three days. It was blindingly obvious to everyone at the club, even including Rebecca, who you met with for lunch on Thursday in her office.

“I think he feels bad,” you explained.

“I suspect he does. That’s no reason to be behaving like a child.” She ate a mouthful of salad.

“I suppose not… but other than that, it’s all going very well!”

Her face soured. “Oh?”

“I’ve given the Instagram captions a revamp, and I’m in the process of updating the website, too. I had this idea to do articles about the employees and why they wanted to get involved with AFC Richmond, and their passions outside of work, too–”

“That all sounds very interesting,” Rebecca cut you off. “But, unfortunately, I have a meeting to attend.”

“Oh,” you said, as she stood up. You followed suit, picking up your salad and juggling the rest of your lunch in your arms. “Well, this was really nice!” you said, as she started herding you out of her office. “Maybe we should do this again–?”

“Maybe,” Rebecca said. “Bye bye, now!”

You stood outside her closed door. It almost touched your nose from where she’d slammed it, your arms full of your belongings. You let out a sigh, and headed back down the stairs to your office sullenly. You found that what you missed the most out of everything– not the sunlight, or the decor– was having a woman work friend. You felt almost isolated being one of the only women who worked in the building. It was lonely sometimes.

You shuffled your belongings back into your bag on the walk down. You passed the gym as you approached your office and took a peek through the window. On the treadmill, facing the corridor by your office, was Roy. He read a book as he did an incline walk, reading the words thoughtfully, before he turned the page.

Suddenly, he looked up and caught your eye. You flinched, but stayed frozen in your spot. Roy’s face flattened into an unreadable expression. You gulped away the shock, and instead raised your hand and waved at him awkwardly.

Without warning, Roy fell off the treadmill. You gasped immediately, letting out a “Roy?!” as you dropped your bag to the floor and made your way to the gym.

You careened through the door and peered at the floor. Roy was there, crumpled, book thrown under a weight bench on the other side of the gym. “Are you alright?” you asked quickly, offering him your hand.

The other boys stopped what they were doing to witness the scene. Not one of them helped Roy up themselves, but instead waited for you to rush to his aid. It was beyond odd. Roy couldn’t even meet your eye, let alone take your hand.

You frowned at him, hurt. “Roy,” you tried again. “You know you can look at me, right?”

“I’m fine,” he croaked, and forced himself to look up and meet your gaze. “Just tripped.” Knees clicking, he got himself up off the floor. That’s when he caught your eye properly, frowning sullenly. You’d never seen him don such an expression, let alone this close.

You stepped back a little, confused as hell. You looked around the room at the others, their silence descending upon the entire stadium floor, not just the gym. They were all acting strange, making you feel like you were on the outside of an inside joke that they all knew well.

You scoffed, annoyed, as you reversed towards the door. “Okay,” you let out. “You’re all acting so fucking strange this week.” You reached the door frame, and went to leave, but stopped. You looked back at them all, before your gaze landed on Roy strongly. “I don’t like it.”

You left, walked back to your office, and shut the door with a bang.

Roy turned to the guys in the gym, still catching his breath from before. The guys looked at him like he was wounded, almost, and not just from the abrupt fall. Roy breathed out deeply, taking in their pitying faces.

“Stop fucking looking at me, alright!” he burst.

“Sorry, Roy,” Isaac said first, followed by some mutters from the others.

“I’m not some fucking baby bird that’s fallen out a fucking tree, alright?”

“Then why are you acting like one?” Jamie said suddenly. He sauntered forwards, and the rest of the team held their breath. “What, am I wrong? You haven’t said two words to her in days, not since you went AWOL on us earlier this week.” There were nods of agreement, some shrugs of confusion. “Where did you even go, like? You just took off.”

The yeah’s of agreement are what made Roy lose it. Everyone wanted to know where he’d gone, why he’d left, but he hadn’t been able to get it out since he’d done it on Monday.

“I went to her fucking uni!” he bellowed over their mutterings. “I went to her uni and spoke with her fucking lecturer, and said how much of a fucking arse I was.” The room went utterly silent. Roy looked to the floor. “That’s why I haven’t said a fucking word, because I don’t know if I made it better, or if I fucked it up even more.”

Roy balled his fists. He’d been feeling ashamed since Monday, more than he’d expected to feel. Guilt was his least favourite thing to feel, even though he often faked being unbothered.

Colin took an abrupt step forward, snapping the tension. “That’s fucking badass.”

Roy sent a confused arch of his brow at the Welshman. “Really?”

“Hell yeah, that’s badass. That’s a proper grand gesture, boyo. One that shows how bad you truly feel about it all,” Colin reassured him. The lads nodded in approval, sealing the deal that Roy had done the right thing. “She doesn’t know?”

Roy shook his head. “She hasn’t said anything. I don’t know if anything’s come of it.”

“Tell her tomorrow,” Sam spoke up. “Tell her tomorrow and I assure you, she will be okay about it all. I do not get the sense that she holds a grudge, you know? She is a kind person.” More hums of agreement filtered around the room. “Also, you cannot do it today. Not after that display on the treadmill,” Sam added, wincing.

“True,” Roy agreed reluctantly.

Isaac approached his captain then, placing a huge but reassuring hand on his shoulder. “She’ll forgive you, bruv. I’m sure of it.”

Roy nodded. “Thanks, Isaac.”

You locked yourself in your office for the remainder of the day. It was too odd out there, both on Roy’s and the guys’ part. You had no idea what had them acting so off-puttingly, but you wanted no fucking part of it. You dived into work, completing a plan for a new article on the website, before writing your novel for the rest of the day. Shannon Hart had been right– you had so much spare time to write that you already felt like an author already. You were on the clock while tapping away, getting paid for writing your book already, it seemed.

Near the end of the day, an email was pinged into your inbox from your lecturer. You had the jitters every time you received an email from him now, after reading what he had to say about your incomplete first assignment. You’d come to accept the 40% outcome over the past few days, but it still stung. You didn’t want to be considered a failure in your course, especially when you’d only just started.

You opened it up nervously, skimming the contents quickly until you realised it was nothing bad– in fact, it was something very good. “Shut the fuck up…” you let out, trailing off as you read it properly.

An impromptu visitor graced the halls of the Richmond university faculty building on Monday in the form of Mr. Roy Kent, number six and Captain at AFC Richmond. He had a lot to say about you, and about your recent assignment, most notably that he’d ‘massively fucked up’ and was a ‘gigantic arsehole’.

He explained everything about why you submitted your work incomplete, and assured us you were not to blame. I’ve taken this into consideration, and have remarked your work today on my own time. When before you were capped at 40/100, I have remarked your work at 87/100; a grade A1.

Congratulations. You must be doing something right for those footballers.

“Shut the fuck up!” you screeched, jumping up from your desk at lightspeed.

You could hardly believe it. This was what Roy had done on Monday, after he’d left training for the day? He’d gone and knocked on the door of your fucking lecturer, not leaving until they understood that he’d messed up the assignment for you. This was immense, and not at all what you’d been expecting. That explained Roy’s aversion to you over the past few days, and the abrupt fall in the gym today.

You let out a shocked cackle. It reverberated around the walls of your square office, bouncing back into your ears and only making you laugh more. This was hilarious– a footballer such as Roy Kent taking it upon himself to do something so rash was incredibly comical. But, it also warmed your heart. He’d felt so bad that he’d taken matters into his own hands.

This was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever done for you, if you thought about it too hard. This was a grand gesture, a proper apology, if you’d ever seen one. It made you smile like the fucking sun in the sky.

Roy left the stadium after everyone else, taking extra care after his fall in the gym. He’d scraped his knee up pretty bad, and even gone to the resident first aider for a knee brace to make sure he was fine before the first match of the season that Saturday. He made his way out, entering into the car park. He was expecting his lone Jeep to be there, but was surprised to find you leaning against the hood. Your arms were crossed, bag on your shoulder, as you looked out at the setting sun over the green grass of the Dogtrack. He slowed to a stroll, tightening his grip on the straps of his gym bag. You turned your gaze and met his eye, shooting him a knowing look.

“Working overtime?” you asked. It was a redundant question. You had a look in your eye that Roy could sense from a mile off– you knew.

“Just making up for lost time at the start of the week,” he replied, coming to stand opposite you.

You stood up straight, and peered up at him. “Ah, yes. I heard you disappeared on Monday.”

“Did you now?” he said. “Who said that?”

You shrugged, stalling to get the point. You were enjoying the silent amusement between you. Both of you knew what was up, but you had to admit you liked the subtle tension. “Just Ted.”

“Oh,” Roy said, his tone the slightest bit sunken.

“And my lecturer, actually,” you said finally. “He emailed me an hour ago to tell me that you popped in for a visit the other day.”

“Really?” Roy faked confusion.

“Mhm.” You tried not to laugh. “He remarked my assignment. I got an A.”

Just like that, all the stress and tension in Roy’s chest dissipated. It flew into the sky and was caught by the breeze instantly. You smiled at him knowingly, regarding him thoughtfully. He shuffled on his spot awkwardly, looking out towards the setting sun on the horizon, over the pitch.

“That’s great,” he let out genuinely.

You stepped forward. “You didn’t have to do that, Roy.”

He snapped his stare on you. “Yes, I fucking did. I was an arsehole.”

You shrugged, scuffing the ground with your shoe. “You were an arsehole, yeah. But arsehole’s don’t go to my fucking uni and ask my lecturer to remark an assignment.” You scoffed.

“It was the least I could do,” he said, and there was a softness in his tone that you didn’t think he’d been capable of. Roy Kent left you with more question marks the more you spoke to him, but you liked a mystery.

“Well, thank you,” you said, peering up at him sweetly. There was a section of yourself that was different, softer, sweeter, reserved only for those rare moments where people fully exposed themselves to you. Their true intention, their true selves. This was one of those moments. “Really. Thank you, Roy.”

He nodded at you, not knowing what to add. The sun cast an orange glow over the car park, reflecting off his Jeep vibrantly. It looked like the car itself was bright orange, so different from the black paint that stuck out like a sore thumb, usually. His car was so big and bulking, the same as the man that stood before you. But you knew that wasn’t all he was, not after what he’d done for you.

“Heading home?” he asked, changing the subject.

You nodded. “I’m exhausted.”

He scoffed. “You and me both.”

“How are you feeling about Saturday? The Arsenal game?”

Roy shook his head. “Let’s not even go there today,” he said, and you immediately backed off. You knew it was a lot of the team, having both a new management team, in the form of Ted and Beard, on top of someone new skulking around the building– you.

“It’ll be the first football game I’ve ever gone to, you know?” you added.  

Roy perked his brow at you. “You really know fuck all about football, don’t you?”

You scoffed abruptly. “Fuck all indeed.”

The smallest smile graced Roy’s face, and you found yourself savouring it. You didn’t want to jinx it, but after almost two weeks of headbutting, you wanted to believe it was over. Perhaps, you and Roy would coexist happily now. Without the meanness, or the miscommunication, or all of the inbetween. In terms of the team, you’d done well with the crew and the boys, bar Roy and Rebecca, but things were looking up.

You felt content again, like you could actually do this after all.

“Need a ride?” Roy asked suddenly.

“Oh,” you let out, looking back at his Jeep. The orange was fading from its reflection. “Sure, I could use a lift.”

“Hop in,” Roy said, as he made his way around to the driver’s side.

He shoved his bag into the backseat, as you opened the passenger side door and jumped in. You slammed it behind you, getting comfortable, as Roy jumped into the driver’s seat next to you. There was a comfortable silence that settled over the car, as the two of you buckled yourselves in. Roy turned on the engine, and the radio turned on harshly, blasting you with an 80s song far too loudly.

You both flinched back, wincing, and Roy clicked a button quickly, turning off the sound. “Fucking hell,” he said. “I think Heart are trying to deafen us.”

You let out a chuckle. “I’ll listen to 80s music over the charts any day.”

Roy perked his brows at you, putting the car in reverse. “Good on you.” He reversed out of the car park and turned onto the main road.

You didn’t talk much, just small talk here and there. It felt oddly intimate being driven home by Roy Kent, but you tried not to let it rattle you. Acquaintanceships always started off patchy, with neither wanting to step over a line, until something resembling friendship ended up shining through. You told yourself that, maybe, a few months down the line, it would be normal for you to catch a lift home with Roy in the week.

You directed him to your street, pointing at your door with a smile. Roy pulled up to the curb, cutting off his engine as you unbuckled your seatbelt. You weren’t expecting him to fully kill the engine, but you didn’t pay it any mind. You jumped out of the car onto the road and rushed onto the pavement, peering up into his, now open, window.

“Thanks for the ride,” you said with a smile.

“It’s fine. I live just around the corner, actually.”

“Don’t tell me you live in one of those big fuck off houses down the street,” you said, pointing down the end of your road. To the left beyond was an array of giant houses, all with blossom trees outside and large gates guarding them. They were gorgeous, huge and expensive.

Roy squinted at you. “I’m a professional footballer. Of course, I fucking do.”

You huffed in amusement. You were about to say I can’t wait to see it in person one day, but stopped yourself short. Was that a weird thing to say, even to a colleague? You bit on your tongue instead and stepped back towards the steps that lead to your door. There was something unsaid in the air, mostly from Roy. You got the sense he wanted to say something more, as his fingers tapped anxiously on the steering wheel.

Instead, you sighed. “See you tomorrow,” you settled on.

Roy inhaled deeply, and raised his hand in goodbye. “See you.”

His window ascended and he started the engine again. He sped off down the road, before he took an abrupt left at the end and disappeared from view. You let yourself into your building and stepped into the hallway. You sighed once more, contentedly, before you closed the door on another interesting day at AFC Richmond.

CHAPTER TWO

[day6source]

hello my loves!!!!!!!!!!! long time no talk!! things have been...busy. but! we persevere (with band aid playing on repeat). [youtuber voice] let's get into it!

first things first: band aid! so good! the stages were so fun! if you missed out on anything, there's a masterpost riiiiiiight HERE of all the content minus this week's upcoming beyondlive concert of course.

second: the blog got a little face lift! i wasn't super feeling the theme-age, so a refresh was in order! it's been this way for a while, but thought in case you hadn't looked, i'd mention it. and it goes for both the desktop and mobile themes!

third: on a similar note...we hit 400 followers! oh my god! holy hell! that is so many people for this dead little website! i'm so glad to have you all here, and i honestly need to get back on my grind about interacting with you guys like this. to celebrate (or to begin to, at least)....

fourth: i made a survey! i want to get to know you guys and get some ideas on how you're feeling about the blog! you can answer it HERE, and don't worry, it's 100% anonymous, so answer how you'd like! i'll reblog this post to keep it in rotation so you all can see it hopefully throughout the next week.

fifth: a bit of a warning, i'm on an interim laptop, so i'm not entirely sure on if i'll be able to record the show this weekend (seems like it'll be okay, but just in case). there will be a link up regardless, so don't even worry! but i just wanted you guys to have the heads up.

and...that's all! summer is winding down and it's almost fall (and a couple weeks until my birthday hehe)! i hope you've all been doing well and taking care of yourselves. i love you all so much, and thank you for being here, i can never say it enough. remember to drink water and eat well, and stay healthy and happy. love, tay 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

[neonfretra]

one of the most important skills continues to be not about being good at what you doin but to be barely servicable about it. jack of a sparse handful of trades, barely scraping mediocre of some etc

i am barely knowledgeable about identifying local plants + animal + fungi but the fact that i can tell any apart has made me hold INFINITE more fondness and appreciation for the world around me. also no living thing likes me i even LOOK at the stray cats in my area and they bolt LMAO <- typing through tears. please keep your cats indoors.

i am inexperienced in so many things and i am getting SO much out of being bad. like i think the wider and thinner i cast my net the more i am getting out of the lived experience

i dont have the a hand or eye for sewing (its debatable how well my hands work LMAO) but i can mend small tears, hem edges, and fix buttons and it is honestly really awesome to look at damage or issues to clothing and know i can fix it later, just dont ask me about darning LOL

i need to stress i know jack about code. i have written one successful random quote generator in javascript with generous help, i have a grasp on HTML and CSS about as secure as a wet bar of soap

BUT im able to actively use inspect element on webpages to change backgrounds and font colors to be friendlier on the eyes for a session ^_^ i made minor adjustments to my desktop theme for the sake of readability! its awesome, i have a flaming trash fire of a personal site (incomplete as hell) i want to add fish to my tumblr blog ^_^

i am DOG in guitar and embroidery and bracelet making and writing and all three other languages i am learning and its AWESOME!!! i love doing a subpar job <3 i love doing things that copy cooler and more experienced artists <3 its so much fun i need to be completely honest. i dont care about being bad. i love being awful and having fun with it <3

[autolenaphilia]

Currently using Debian 12, with KDE Plasma, which i previously used. But i had problems running plasma last year, with repeated random plasmashell crashes. I could even repeatedly cause plasmashell to crash by removing a second panel/taskbar.

But i returned to plasma to check out running wayland, i've previously used x11-based desktops and even ran plasma on x11. And it turns out plasma is actually more stable on wayland, at least the 5.27 version debian 12 ships with. Which is not something i expected, because all the talk of wayland not being fully there yet, which iirc is why i defaulted to using x11 earlier despite plasma's wayland session. I can still cause plasmashell to crash on x11 by removing a panel, but not on wayland, and the random crashes don't happen either on wayland either. It's a smooth reasonably bugfree experience that lives up to debian's reputation for stability.

I'm running older versions of KDE Plasma and of most things on this OS, because that's the Debian way, but who cares. if the software works I don't care if it's old, and with Debian I don't have to worry about an update breaking my system, and don't have to worry about frequent updates in general, which is a plus in my book (don't judge me, I have Windows update trauma /j).

my current desktop, the theme is Sweet KDE and the wallpaper is from this post by greekie-via-linux

So now finally KDE Plasma works good for me, without all the crashing. And I'm slowly becoming a fan. It's very customizable, KDE provides a traditional desktop layout by default (which i prefer) but so customizable that you can turn it into almost anything you like. It's defaults might borrow from the windows 95 to 7 desktop paradigm, but Windows never gave users this much control.

It's pretty looking, it has all the eye candy effects and animations you want, but not too heavy on the ram useage (the performance is actually comparable to xfce) , and you can turn the effects off thanks to the aforementioned customizability. And it provides all the programs you need for a fully featured desktop environment, everything from basic stuff like a terminal emulator and file browser to a GUI package manager that supports basically all packaging formats. Neither mate or xfce has the latter, for example, when I ran debian with xfce i had to manage my flatpaks through the terminal.

Maybe even too many programs. KDE makes a lot of programs, and i'll probably never switch from mozilla firefox and thunderbird to kmail, falkon or konqueror. Though to be fair, KDE does develop a lot of programs that are first-rate in the linux world, practically without competition. And i personally find KDE connect to be extremely useful. It syncs your android phone with your desktop or laptop computer and it's awesome. Once I learned how to allow it through my firewall, I can see my SMS messages on my computer and type them with an actual keyboard on my computer, it's great. And It works on other desktop environments and even on windows.

[deepseacityunderground]

i did a pokeymon tierlist that took me three hours to do ;-;

i put it and explainations under a cut because its so big lmao. if you want it to not be blurry then open it seperately in desktop idk

lesbian tier: self explainatory (ill explain why i like them so much later)

my babies: good designs, sentimental, AND i like fighting with them

sentimental tier: various favs across the years, theyre more individuals than species to me because of my memories with these guys.

i wish pokemon were real: for pokemon that make me say "i wish pokemon were real"

ebic: i like them lots and i like to have them on my team

the funny little creatures: i smile when i see them and i like them

intriguing: hmm there is something here... but i'm not quite getting it maybe?

not rlly interested: this one is self explainatory... if ur fav is here im sorry :( im sure these guys are cool i just dont rlly think about them ever

fucked up: i dont like seeing them they make me uncomfortable

scyther was my first partner in my first pokemon game :) it was diamond. i overtrained scyther way too much and he (because it was a boy scyther) would do that thing where he doesnt listen in battle so i build his entire moveset around it. he was lost when i transferred him to heartgold and then dropped heartgold in some water. rip scyther always in my heart

togekiss was my friend alongside scyther. she was the first pokemon i ever trained up to lv.100. she was also a victim of the heartgold incident. rip togekiss always in my heart.

absol was the only one from my initial gamebeating diamond team to survive the incident. she was transferred over to my copy of platinum and after i ended up losing diamond, remained there happily. i dont want to transfer her to bank or home because i think itd be like moving an old cat to a new house. i dont want to upset her at her old age. also absol's design fucks. emo fringe lynx. absol is what sparked my emotions about dark types. also i played pmd1 as a kid.

gengar is gengar. also i played pmd1 as a kid and read a copious amount of fanfic focused around pmd1 gengar (everyone go read pmd victory fire now it doesnt even matter that its on forever hiatus and ended with a cliffhanger go read it)

the tentacool variations are here purely out of sentimentality. when i was much younger, id let my little sister borrow my copies of the gen 4 pokemon games. she was really young and didnt really care about rpgs in general at the time, so shed always just explore and catch random pokemon instead of actually playing the games. one time, after i got the games back from her, i looked in my pc and saw like. two full boxes of tentacool and tentacruel that shed caught. and they've all got nose themed nicknames like "nosey" or "nosenose" and other stuff like that. so apparently she was surfing about and saw a tentacool for the first time and was just. obsessed with how they looked and thought they looked like big noses (with the red spots being like nostrils i think) and just decided to catch loads and loads of them because she liked them so much. so it became an inside joke between us. i dont really have much in common with my sister anymore and our relationship is pretty cold rn but pokemon is the one thing we still hold in common. and ill always associate tentacool with her.

we all know why grovyle is where he is. same with dusknoir. theyre also good designs.

i really dont like enamourus because its fucked up how they designed three big buff genie men and then made one that was pink and skinny. awful. makes me angry. if they were buff theyd be one of my favs tho.

i really dont like the pla designs for dialga and palkia... theyve already both got very busy designs and i think these forms are Too Busy. i really wanted to like them but well... i look at giratinas two forms and cry over what could have been.

i dont like the tumblr sexyman lizard.

a lot of pokemon are in higher tiers cus theyre based on animals i like... i like a lot of cat pokemon for this reason. also i like the litten line cus it fucks. and my litten in sumo was a female and i like the idea of big buff wrester catgirl :3 incineroar is a really good design and shes big and strong... whats not to love.

also, i generally like a lot of designs which other pokemon fans dislike... i especially love more humanoid/furry "feminine" designs like primarina, lilligant, gardevoir, lopunny, tsareena, etc etc... i really dislike how a lot of these designs are just seen as like sexygirl designs by the community... sadly porn will exist of everything but these pokemon are also creatures. theyre animals. they may look a bit like a girl but they are still magic animals. like one time in moon i had a whole team of grass girlies and it was just fun to hang out with my funny grass lady creatures.

i like giratina because theyre a big ass antimatter caterpillar. drawing giratina helped me draw antropomorphic caterpillars actually. i like their big ass legs.

all eeveelutions are CATS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

the lunar duo are my ultimate fav pokemon forever as a team for a big mix of all the other reasons. partly its sentimentality, cus i really liked them as a kid and i would always chill on fullmoon island in my copy of platinum and just listen to the music, i also always tried to do the void glitch to get darkrai but i always fucked up and never quite saw her! (i couldnt do the event cus living in shitty rural region reasons) i also liked battling with them in oras :3 i think their designs are very well done. they remind me of the "swan" series by hilma af klimt specifically, which is a series i really liked on its own. i dont think that was intentional, but i was looking at the work about a year or so ago for an essay and i sorta realized how well the overall color palette of that series matches the pair and cresselia specifically, because shes based on a swan ofc. and ofc darkrai is also birdlike but in a more abstract way. she actually reminds me a bit of the skeletons of one of those really fucked up breed pigeons with the receeded necks and huge fantails and tiny beaks and weird spindly legs. i also really like how unabashedly edgy darkrai's design is... i feel a lot of nostalgia for edgy character designs from the mid 2000s which were edgy in a very un-selfaware way (another reason why i like absol specifically and also like. so many ghost and dark types) and as an angsty kid i always used to gravitate towards those designs lol. i also think its kinda romantic, the idea of a creature which kills others simply by being around them, a typhoid mary type creature, which isolates itself due to that, with its only friend also being the only creature that negates its negative affects. and also that creature killed a kid in america (fucked up). thats how i interpret their relationship. anyway ive been having lots of thoughts about them for like over 15 years.

this is unrelated but its kinda annoying when ppl use gendered pronouns for genderless pokemon... its not gonna ruin my days its just. funny lol (ignore that i have used she/her for darkrai throughout this entire comment... when i do it, its ok <3) one of the sad flaws of the pmd series imo bcus the mainline games dont do that at all.

in general i think my likes and dislikes are more dictated by character design/sentimentality as opposed to ability in battle or fanservice or competitive meta ... this is just part of being a longtime fan who doesnt rlly keep up with the community anymore methinks. im kinda beating myself up for not putting more complex thought into this buuut also i wanna be true to myself yknow... but then again this community sucks so i feel like im gonna be attacked for putting idk wingull too low or something lol

[hpdfag]

I didn’t get to see the pink theme sadly but this deeper red one is so cool?? It probably looks much better in dark mode but I have too many eye problems too use it all the time ngl…I’ll check it out later!

How have you been doing? I recently got a bit too BPD and now I’m in this little stage where I really wanna improve as a person, getting into self care and all that shit. It’s a bit silly, and I’m sure it’s something akin to mania, but I think it’s good for me to feel so stimulated to take care of myself! For me, it’ll get me a compliment or two from my FP and overall I’ll feel better for them. And I end up feeling good for myself so…happiness for the whole family!

Tell me a bit about how you’ve been doing and all, stuff that happened (if anything!) or anything on your mind. We’re always open-eared around you :}

- 🧶

THANK U THANK U !!!!!! ive been on an editing kick again so ive been messing w/ the themes on basically all of my blogs .. im glad u like this one :D

i've been doing really well!! it's similar for me actually, i'm finally doing some really hard work with my therapist and it sucks but it's making me want to get better. i really do believe that it's what i'm here to do, and it feels wonderful to have a purpose again. i always say that the meaning of life is something you have to find for yourself, but i never really bothered with it. i always considered myself a lost cause. but maybe i can get out of this. maybe one day i won't feel so small and scared ... it feels wonderful to feel wonderful :]

and it is good !! even if it's just mania, it's always good to take care of yourself. i always relearn some unfortunate truths whenever i bother with self care like "i feel more like a person when i bother to shower and eat breakfast" LOLOL

overall i've been doing a lot better i think :] im finally starting to break out of the mindset i worked myself into with my ex and im feeling much better for it. i've actually had several people irl tell me that im looking visibly better completely unprompted and it catches me off gaurd every time haha

i haven't been doing much but !! im hoping to get back into the swing of things, especially with school coming up in september ... but it's gonna be the last year before college!! im a senior!! wtf!! it feels weird going into senior year at 16 but i did start kindergarten at like 4 years old so i guess it tracks /silly

right now the project i want to get back on is my neocities ... it's a total mess right now while i figure out html and css, but hopefully eventually i can make it my own !! it's very vaguely space themed right now but eventually i wanna theme it off of myself since like. all of our interests come and go but unfortunately i remain /silly .. it'll be difficult but lots of fun !! (i have it linked here if u wanna poke around it in its current laughably unfinished state, itll look best on google chrome on desktop!)

ive been spending a bit more time with my mom recently too, ive been rewatching some of my favorite anime with her and we're gonna watch some newer ones too!! (we've gotten thru evangelion and madoka magica so far, and we're gonna start cowboy bebop next ^_^)

auauauaua ive started rambling like hell but !! im glad to be able 2 chat with u, it's always one of the highlights of our day :]

[littlespoonevan]

this is not directed at gifmakers in any way bc you are the lifeblood of this website and you are so talented and i Love You but the fact that tumblr has now completely gotten rid of the old post editor so that all gifsets on desktop themes look like pictures/gifs posted in a textpost rather than a photoset Truly may be the thing that breaks me when it comes to this website askjdfh and you might be like hey! ciara what do you care! you don’t make gifs! but what u need to understand is i am one of the 2% of people on this website that exclusively blogs on desktop and as such, i permanently have my blog open in a separate tab and have done every single day for the last 10 years and now whenever i go to that tab the gifsets that i know these creators have spent hours making look all messed up and don’t sit the way they should and when i tell you it literally makes me want to itch my brain every time i see it because it looks wRONG and i get this is a niche thing and it doesn’t affect these posts on the dashboard or the app or whatever but like i genuinely, genuinely cannot convey to you how much it bothers me out of every single change tumblr has made that people complain about this IS the hill i’m going to die on xo

[athene-studies]

k havin some trouble keeping out of The Ennui this past while and i realized i had 7 core values listed on my blog (listed on the little explore thing on my desktop theme as "live life on purpose • step off the path of least resistance • take care of myself • contribute to the community • get things done • always learn • appreciate beauty") sooo score thats a weekly challenge right there.

im just gonna start tomorrow (its the night of the 5th as i post this) since im lucky and my week isnt bounded by things like "weekdays". lets do them in order!

6. Tue - live life on purpose: to keep myself mindful I'm going to write down what I've done after every half hour of my day, plus im gonna plan out a couple things at certain points of the day and attempt to stick to those plans 7. Wed - dont get dragged back into my comfort zone: i do have a dentist appointment that day, but im going to also go to the library while im out, which ive been trying to do for a while but just never felt right. im going to wear a cute but maybe a bit weird outfit, and whenever i have an urge to do something (i should go read, i should cut up and eat an apple), im going to do it instead of succumbing to the Nah. ...also this isnt relevant to the daily challenge but i do need to pick up a prescription so im going to try to remember that 8. Thur - take care of myself: im going to try to do all of my self-care habits ive set up. most of them i do once in a while, but i havent managed to do all of them at once in a few weeks. so that means doing my workout, brushing my teeth, turning my phone off at 1 and reading instead for bedtime, making sure my laundry is put away... etc. this one's only a small part of the day but i guess that means its a good chance to rest lol 9. Fri - help others: its a terrible time of year to do things like volunteering, plus short notice, so im going to focus on chores around the house and donations and home political action, that sort of thing. maybe text my siblings to find out how theyre doing. 10. Sat - get shit done: i mean what else is there to say. at the beginning of my day im going to write down a list of things to get done (attempting to include things that are low on my priority list so just keep repeatedly getting pushed back, like calling my grandpa and working on a video edit) and see how much of it i can do. the slogan for the day is gonna be "if i think to myself 'yknow i could go do this thing' i fucking will" 11. Sun - learn: hopefully the rest of the week will have caught me up on my accounting course, but if not, id like to do that. after that, though, id like to set aside some time to read articles on things i care about but dont know much about, and do a lesson or two of language learning or coding or something. learning at my own pace isnt going very well so far considering "my own pace" is ✨stagnancy✨ 12. Mon - appreciate the world: not much else to note other than looking around myself more often. im pretty good at this one already. lets use it to mean "do hobbies"-- take an hour to do some writing, take an hour to do some music, drink a tea ive been keeping aside for a special occasion, idk

and i will let you know how that goes :)

[randum-famdoms]

Finally caving and no longer using Google docs (mostly, probably will still copy and paste the first drafts of chapters in there for my beta reader to go over since that’s what she has)

Gonna start writing via ellipsus now (@ellipsus-writes is their tumblr account, if you wanna check it out). The following is gonna basically just me squeeing and how amazing this thing is, as well as a few cons I’ve noticed, and it’s long. So I��m adding a cut for people who don’t care.

I’m so fucking excited to no longer have to manually add in all the html in the ao3 text editor, you have no fucking idea. That step alone takes hours, double that if something glitches. And I can still write on my phone!!!!!

First downside I’ve noticed so far is that it doesn’t include my preferred font for writing (trebuchet ms if anyone is curious). It DOES have a comic sans sibling tho, which I can use for now. If it annoys me over time then I guess I’ll put up with Inter, even tho I hate most mono fonts. And serif fonts. I’m really picky. Serif fonts me flashbacks to grade school 5 paragraph essays in mla style. And mono fonts just… idk they look weird. Not creative at all. Very corporate.

Another bonus I’ve noticed: it includes open dyslexic as a font!!! I don’t personally need it, but having that accessibility is amazing. HUGE props to the creators.

Also love the interface. Very nice, user friendly, intuitive, looks good, 10/10.

There’s a light and dark mode choice on install, and I chose dark of course.

The editor settings are cool, allowing you to turn on and off different features like seeing other editiors’ cursors when typing, avatars when they’re viewing the document (tho it says draft there, maybe it doesn’t work in the main doc and only in drafts? If so, that’s odd), certain formatting things like dashes combining into an emdash, Ellipses (idk what that’s supposed to mean since there’s no elaboration), quotes (again no elaboration), markdown shortcuts (idk what those are, maybe it’s about coding?), viewing the word count automatically in the top bar, the desktop formatting bar, and the theme (light vs dark).

AND STRIKETRHOUGH IS RIGHT THERE! Right next to bold italic and underline. I always forgot the key shortcut to it in Google docs (why is it three keys???? WHY???? It’s so inconvenient!) and you gotta navigate through like three drop downs to reach it in the menu bar. This is so SO much simpler. I use strike through all the time to denote thoughts the pov character is repressing, and considering Akechi is a pov character that’s pretty damn often.

Omg and having an easy button so see all the keyboard shortcuts???? I love the creators so much????? There’s so many I would never have known otherwise, and they’re all so useful!!!! Aaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!

I love the drafts feature, it’s so nice having my notes and outlines and such all right there.

I do wish the spell check feature was better about recognising foreign names, but since I can just turn it on and off I don’t have to deal with constant red lines like with Google! I do wish there was a way to add words to the program’s dictionary, so that it doesn’t flag names, abbreviations, and slang. (For example, it doesn’t like fic, fanfic, lol, dashes like -- or - for some reason, or really any of the character names. the list goes on.) and I can’t just add in Japanese to the accepted languages, because I’d have to choose either that or English and then every single other word would be wrong. It does give options for which regional English variant you want, so I can choose British English! Which is nice. Google does it too, but you never know with beta versions of programs.

You can choose whether text is normal, a header (which subsets if headers), a caption, a quote, etc. I like that, since it’s directly tied to the outline and the different headers show up in there tree-style, but you can’t just have some text within a category be different. For example, say you want some of your paragraph text to be one font and then a different section of paragraph text to be another. You can’t do that.

I also haven’t been able to find a way to change text colour, or to highlight text. Which is annoying. I use highlighting text a lot when editing, so loosing that is a problem. Not the end of the world, but definitely one of my biggest gripes with Ellipsus so far.

There is a commenting system, but it ONLY works in drafts. I do not like that. In fact, I kinda hate it. A lot. And I definitely prefer the way comments work in Google docs, at least its desktop version, where they show up right next to the text instead of you having to click on the text with a comment to see that comment. At the very least, you can see all the comments in order of where the text is in the draft, with any replies, all in one place in the comments tab. However, you can’t just click away from the text to leave that tab. You gotta manually navigate back to where you were in the menu.

So yeah the comment feature kinda sucks.

There is also a chat feature? Idk how to properly review it, since rn I don’t have anyone else to chat with in ellipsus. You can use it in non-drafts, but I don’t think you can use it to point out specific text.

You can see word count!!!! And an estimate for how long it would take to read the whole thing! That’s so useful! And cool! You can also highlight (with a cursor, not actual highlight) sections of text and it will show that section’s word count, but NOT its reading time.

The version history feature is a bit slow, but it functions well. Not too worried about it. You can restore old versions as a new draft, though, which is pretty neat.

You can also download the document as a pdf, markdown, share it, and copy it as html, markdown, and rich text, but best of all, oooooo best of all, you can export DIRECTLY to ao3! And it includes all the html in the document!!!! I never have to manually code in html again!!!!! There are no words to encapsulate just how fucking excited about that I am. None. I am vibrating. I’m ahdnfbshsbdbfbcbhcbcnnsdbdbxnxbdmsnddbbdndbdbdbAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

best. Feature. Ever. More than makes up for all the things I don’t like. Amazing. Wonderful. 10/10. Would die for that.

As of right now, I think that’s everything. Overall, I’d rate ellipsus an 8.5/10, compared to Google docs’s 7/10. I really love what they’ve done so far, but there’s some things they could really improve on.

Overall cons:

I really wish you could comment in the main document, it’s a big deal to me. I wish you could see comments by the text at all times, instead of just in the comments tab. I wish there were more font choices, the current pickings are slim at best. I wish you could change the font of specific sections instead of everything under that text category. I wish you could highlight things (even better if you could have multiple highlight colours). I wish you could change font colour. I wish you could add words to a dictionary so they aren’t flagged by spell check.

However, the vast majority of things ellipsus is doing are great. There are a ton of pros to this program, and it’s still in beta. There’s room for improvement, but that’s the whole point of a beta release. Everything I don’t like are things I can live with and work around, too. That’s better than a lot of completely finished games and programs I’ve come across. And it’s free!!! I’m really excited to see how Ellipsus develops, and definitely recommend it to any writers out there - especially anyone who writes for ao3. Seriously, the export to ao3 feature practically sells this thing by itself.

[unidentifiedfuckingthing]

i fink the logo or icon for stuff is like obviously not life or death but pretty important, both its value as an identity and its reproducibility, and endeavouros is so weird in like how much it seems to care about its perception including curating heavily configured versions of the desktops it ships with (very good too, at least for xfce) but its icon is just absolute dogshit. its literally not iconic. like its basically unrecognizable in monocolor ascii except that nobody else has a soft featureless blob as their icon, the color thing is literally the only recognizable element. its not connected to the name and its not even like, themed like anything. arch's icon is one of the best, you can recall exactly what it looks like from memory and its got pleasing angles and its connected to the rest of the identity of the design and you can make such heavily constrained versions of that graphic and it looks awesome. honestly really bumps down my feelings about eos which like objectively is so shallow of me but they market themselves on their user experience & modernity so like, this feels like meeting them where they're at. if it was a like, no refunds no returns dinky little dev project i wouldn't mind* but if you're the kind of brand that wants a good icon you have to have a good icon

*tux and the GNU icon are so fucking bad though. so fucking bad. i wish they were anything else

[flakeeatsstairs]

I'm kind of in the mood to yap about well my current hyperfixation (my favorite man-made-horrors-beyond-human-comprehension; outlast) okay okay i have to be honest as everyone can probably tell; i fucking LOVE outlast but like why?? well SIMPLE; characters, lore, uhh map design, just everything i love it all so much i love all of the games and like the amount of FEAR they can put you in !! it's truly amazing; my most favorite thing ever is when i was playing outlast (first game:} ) and i got so scared that i almost started crying; im sorry but like if a DECADE OLD horror game can do that IT STILL STANDS STRONG!!! like gen i love it all so much!! the map design is so cool the atmospheres in every game is just so PRETTY !! the amount of screenshots i have for them just because i thought an area just looked really amazing is just un-fucking-real. storytelling is great as well!! i don't have a lot i can say about it that can make remotely any sense but i just find it amazing especially with scenery, documents, notes, recordings (hi outlast 2) , ect outlast 2 is a bit special with the story telling imo; i like to see it as going through two different stories; one where your fucking going through that hell of a village/town then another one where you go through blake's uh.. very sad trauma and guilt ridden experiences (unironically i want to hug him so badly) uhhh murkoff is interesting to learn about honestly; i really still don't know how they operate but looking at them more as a government front/shadow company seems logical?.. though i am so open to listening to people's theories and also don't get me started on the fandom side of outlast; i LOVE seeing everyone's designs for all of the protagonists !! its so cool to see people's different takes ^^ , seeing ships are cool as well, i just love seeing people enjoy stuff as much as i do genuinely i love it so much!!! also i totally love seeing people's ocs !! like yeah!! enjoy the content you enjoy !! be silly! make things for that interest!!!! auu everything aside though i have so much praise for this game and i just love learning about the lore and all of that!!!! its so cool its like amazing really i don't understand how im so hyperfixated on this franchise but i understand it at the same time?? i love it all though its amazing i have to be honest i have to many outlast themed stuff (even my desktop isn't safe; i have a murkoff wallpaper !!)

would hit this w/ the outlast tag but im oddly scared of being judged despite my whole "yeaahh fuck you i enjoy what i want i dont care what people think" attitude

[yegarts]

"I Am YEG Arts" Series: Yang Lim

Promotional image for Shifting Articulations of Asian-ness in Contemporary Canada, curated by Yang Lim. Photo provided by the artist.

As an independent curator, Yang Lim encourages audiences to step outside their usual frames of reference and see things a little bit differently. Through exhibitions that explore themes of heritage, memory, language, agency, and the contemporary Asian experience, Yang hopes to be a catalyst for conversation, while challenging the homogenization of diverse experiences.  As digital platforms continue to gain popularity, Yang continues to push curatorial boundaries and explore new ways to bring the traditional gallery experience to online audiences around the world. This week’s "I Am YEG Arts” story focuses on Yang Lim.

Tell us about your connection to Edmonton and what keeps you living and working here.

Initially I moved here for educational reasons, but I also have family here, so that’s a big reason for me to stay in Edmonton. But also, after I came here, I volunteered with various artistic cultural organisations around town over the years and I liked the vibe of the city as well. I think that’s certainly a contributing factor for me staying here.

I know that Edmonton has been called "Festival City”. That’s the thing that struck me about Edmonton – there are all these festivals and things happening, literally back-to-back during certain times of the year too.  That’s certainly an attractive aspect about Edmonton. And of course, in the winter months there are still things happening that cater to every taste.

You recently wrapped the online exhibit: Shifting Articulations of Asian-ness in Contemporary Canada. Tell us more about the experience of curating such a large online exhibition.

This was an interesting challenge in part because, up until that point, most of what I had been doing in terms of curating were conventional on-site, in-person exhibitions. There was a learning curve when I went through this project, but it’s been a good learning experience as there are several behind-the-scenes components that I didn’t necessarily think about before for the online platform. For example, you aren’t dealing with things such as a physical space – in an in-person exhibition, you have your square footage of how much space you have and you also have to navigate that space in terms of putting up the artwork, deciding how it’s going to be displayed, and so on. You don’t have that necessarily for an online exhibition. But at the same time, you’re still dealing with the spatial issue in a sense, except that it’s in the context of a website. So, there are similar concerns, but manifested in a different form. I would ask questions such as: What’s the aesthetic? What impression do I want to give people when they first come to the website? What might attract them to stick around and explore?

The other interesting thing I had to deal with was the different mediums from the participating artists, so I had to consider how to best represent them on my exhibit website. It was an ongoing collaboration that involved getting input from the artists about what they wanted to see and how they preferred their work to be shown, while working with the constraints of an online medium. There was ongoing communication between me and the artists, and also the website designer I was working with, so after much back and forth throughout the whole process it worked out well. I think, overall, the artists were quite pleased with what came out of it.

I also wanted to ensure people could access the website and navigate around easily, regardless of how they viewed it. In a conventional, physical exhibition you just go to the space, but in an online platform someone might look at it on their laptop, phone, desktop computer, or tablet, so I didn’t want to inadvertently exclude anyone from accessing it. That aspect was taken care of quite well through the website design process as the exhibition website was viewable in all sorts of devices, which was good to see.

Images from the online exhibition Shifting Articulations of Asian-ness in Contemporary Canada. Photos provided by the artist.

Were there any surprise learnings, challenges, or opportunities in curating an online exhibition?

Throughout this process of building this exhibition, I was thinking about what I could do in an online platform that is not possible in an onsite exhibition. For example, one of the artists displayed some illustrations, and we added browsing functionality so that you could click and zoom in to the image. Another artist had a video that was embedded, so you could then click it and show it full screen. These are the sorts of things that were part of my thinking process around how I could take advantage of in this online medium, which also allows people to customise their viewing experience.

At the same time, there are downsides to any platform. One of the things with the online platform is that, admittedly, you don’t have the in-person interaction that you may have, say when you go in a gallery space and have that spontaneous conversation with other people.  As a result, the online context does have its pros and cons that arise from using it to exhibit art.

What was it about these artists’ works that led you to select this group of artists for the exhibition? 

These artists’ works had intriguing points of connection, so I thought that it would be worthwhile to exhibit them together because they all deal with ideas pertaining to heritage, memory, language, and agency. They were exploring these concepts in ways that connected with their gender identities as well, either directly or indirectly. For example, one artist’s video in the exhibition deals with domestic labour and matrilineal inheritance. Another artist explores their racialized queer identity by revisiting memorable places in their hometown. And a few other works in this exhibit dealt with articulation and language. When you think about language—the mother tongue, native tongue—there’s that connotation of passing on one’s language through the generations.

I thought that it was important to draw attention to their work in a cohesive way because there are more and more artists from diverse backgrounds who are producing very interesting work across Canada. There’s still more that can be done to make their work more visible, including those produced by artists of Asian backgrounds.

What does community mean to you, and where do you find it?

At a basic level, I think of community in terms of where I am geographically located, which is in Edmonton. But I would include, in that idea of “community,” people who are supportive of what I do but who might not live here, such as those people whom I’ve established networks and connections with. In a sense I'm seeing community as something that is virtual or hybrid. It’s about having that space where I can feel my work is appreciated or making an impact in some way or contributing to the artistic discourse.

Community, for me, is also about the potential audience that I may have for my work.  It's both sides – the community as a people who are supportive, giving that context to produce, but also the flip side, those who are receiving what you’re producing, and engaging them in the conversation. I think there are different levels of understanding around what community is. It can range from the micro-specific context to something broader as well.

Yang Lim's new online exhibition Cinematic Disruptions: Asian Diasporic Communities in Motion opens this week, running from January 26 to March 11. Photo provided by the artist.

Tell us a little about what you’re currently working on or hoping to explore next.

Currently, I’m working on Cinematic Disruptions: Asian Diasporic Communities in Motion, which is also an online exhibition but focuses specifically on film and video. It's in the same vein as my previous exhibitions as it’ll highlight the experiences and perspectives of Asian communities. Thinking historically about how Asian communities have been represented in film and television, it has certainly improved over the years. You see shows like Kim’s Convenience, Fresh Off the Boat, Crazy Rich Asians, to name a few. We’re seeing more representations of people from these communities, which is good to see, but I always look in terms of what more could be done? In some ways, it’s still lacking. An example of this would be fantasy and science fiction. How are Asian people represented there?

This exhibition draws together some people whose work is representing these experiences and perspectives in thought-provoking ways. Hopefully, they will entice people to think, get them to step outside what they are accustomed to viewing, and maybe intrigue them to explore some more. In fact, one of the works I’ve included in the exhibition is a science fiction short film. There’s also another one that could be considered a surreal film representing the immigrant experience, but it’s done in a very unusual way. It defies categorization in some ways, and I think that’s a good thing as it’s testing the boundaries of how we think Asian communities are depicted.

I’d be curious to know about peoples’ thoughts on these films. What drew me to them was that they’re different from what I’ve seen before. They are working within recognizable genres and styles – there's science fiction, drama, more reflective pieces, and documentaries. My approach in this exhibition is similar to what I’ve done before, where I’m drawing together different genres, because I think there are interesting connections you can make when you group works together rather than if you’re viewing them separately.

What excites you most about the YEG arts scene right now?

There are increasingly interesting artistic interventions and other creative things happening in Edmonton. I think part of this is that bigger cities may have an oversaturation of organizations and groups, while Edmonton doesn’t seem to have that same oversaturation. Because of this, I think that this opens the door for interesting creative practices and interventions, which you might not necessarily get if you’re living in a place that is overly centralized or dominated by certain institutions. It’s nice to see creative manifestations happening in places you might not have seen a decade or two ago. The city’s pop-up events and activities add to its creative flavour as well.

Looking towards the future, the pandemic has affected everyone’s lives in a lot of ways, but one positive development is that you see businesses, the arts, and other sectors that are taking advantage of the online platform to connect and produce content. I’m interested to see where that goes in terms of what potential exists for the arts to leverage online platforms. We would still have our in-person events, exhibits, and activities of course—we still want those to continue! -- but we can also incorporate that online dimension to bring in traditional audiences that are interested in creative output in Edmonton, and also attract new audiences. Someone may not necessarily think of visiting an art gallery, but perhaps they might see something online, either deliberately or accidentally. Sometimes accidents are a good thing. I think there’s interesting potential there to attract people to the arts that can feed into increased audiences to physical locations too. Hopefully, what I’m doing in terms of these online exhibits are feeding into that and getting people to think about new, interesting ways that can supplement what we do already with in-person activities, talks, and exhibits to build our audiences.

Want more YEG Arts Stories? We’ll be sharing them here and on social media using the hashtag #IamYegArts. Follow along! Click here for updates on Yang’s new exhibition. 

Photo from the 2019 exhibition Negotiating “Asian-ness” in Canada which was part of The Works Art and Design Festival. Photo provided by the artist.

About Yang Lim

Yang Lim is an independent curator based in Edmonton, AB, whose practice engages with diverse perspectives around timely topics in contemporary society and artists who work out of a variety of geographical, cultural, and discursive contexts. He is also interested in innovative approaches to curating that can broaden the public reach of art.  

Yang’s recent exhibition Shifting Articulations of Asian-ness in Contemporary Canada broadened the conversation around “Asian-ness” and highlighted diverse perspectives within Canada’s Asian communities. His next exhibition, Cinematic Disruptions - Asian Diasporic Communities in Motion, broadens the conversation around “Asian-ness” and complicates what it means to be part of the Asian diaspora. It features eleven creators of Asian heritage who work with the film and video mediums. Their works convey diverse and complex representations of Asian diasporic communities’ experiences that complicate existing representations in mainstream and popular culture. The exhibition runs January 26 to March 11.

[dailyeca]

your blog title is so false. if eca has a million fans i am one of them. if eca has ten fans i am one of them. if eca has no fans. that means i am no longer on the earth. if the world is against eca, i am against the world. i love eca till my last breath... die hard fan of eca.

Thank you for being a fan, we appreciate it. yeah! were fans of eca too!! even when he talks to an invisible camera like hes on the office, hehe~

[tittyblade]

tumblr etiquette 101

a list that is nowhere near exhaustive, from yours truly.

First off, welcome! Whether you’re a twitter veteran looking for anything but whatever twitter is, or a new user just done signing up, glad to see you in our ranks beloveds! Welcome home. Refer to this quick tour to make sure your fandom experience (or tumblr experience in general) is a positive one!

Disclaimer: I know it’s long, but please try to read or skim through til the end if you’re new here! This is by no means meant to be a rule book (for the most part lol), only a guide to help you get settled easier!

1) Your blog

This is where people will see and interact with you, so put some effort into it!

Try to choose a name (url) that’s simple. You can see it as your brand, it’s how people will perceive you and remember you. If you’d like to interact with other users here (and not use the site just for the content) it’s better to have something short and sweet, preferably without spaces. (Of course, these are only suggestions.) Rest assured, you can change it literally any time you want.

Have a theme. Utilize the tool that lets you edit your blog’s color or the font of your bio! You can make it match your profile picture, or your blog if it has a theme of its own. Make it feel homey :]

Fill in your bio. People will be checking out your profile probably more often than you think. Don’t leave it empty! Put in any information you’re comfortable with sharing and isn’t too personal (like your age if you’re a minor, or other TMI that can be found on other people’s carrds). It’s always better to add a name/nickname people can use to refer to you by, but feel free to use your blog description to shitpost still.

You can have an intro post. More often than not, you’ll see a blog have a pinned post, a post permanently appearing at the top of a blog until you pin another post or unpin it. You can make one of those, if you’d like to introduce yourself in more length, link any other socials or a carrd, and show others visiting your blog how you tag things so it’ll be easy for them to navigate. Not an obligation.

Keep your anonymity and your safety. It should go without saying, but there’s no harm in repeating it just in case. Your comfort, privacy and safety has the utmost importance. Don’t share any information you don’t want to. Don’t share your age if you’re a minor, or any other incredibly personal info. I’d encourage you to go by a nickname that’s not your real name, (blog name, your brand, remember?) since there’s safety in anonymity, and that’s lowkey one of the big deals of tumblr, but that’s up to you still.

Choose what you want to be visible. Your liked posts and who you follow are all things you can set to keep to yourself and hide from the publics eye, how handy! You should go through all the setting while you’re at it, set it to your comfort.

Side blogs are a thing. You can have multiple blogs that you can use for different things (see: different fandoms, art blog, etc) to keep them organized or away from your followers. Just remember that the replies and off-anon asks you send will be from your main blog, as well as where you follow other blogs from.

2) Interacting with others

You’ve set up your account, now comes the fun part!

Follow to your heart’s desire. If you care about others seeing who you follow, fear not! In tumblr, usually only two types of blogs keep their following visible to others: newbies, and big blogs using it to point people on other good blogs’ direction. Just turn it off, and go ham following people.

Customize your dashboard. Gonna mention just two things here: this is another reason why it’s really important that you follow blogs without sparing, your dash will collect dust otherwise; and you should turn off “best stuff first” in your dashboard settings, to have a better community here and all.

Follow tags. You can set it in your settings that posts with your followed tags appear on your dashboard.

You can check the og post for edits and context. When you see a reblogged post you don’t understand the context of (or don’t recognize the character in case of fanarts), click on the profile so it will take you to the original post. From there you can check the original poster’s tags to get the context, or see if there have been any edits made to the post, since when you edit a post it doesn’t update any past reblogs.

Send people asks... This is how you make mutuals, people! Do it off-anon if you’d like them to know your blog, or anon if you’d rather not! (You can still end your messages with a signature to show you’re the same person, -[name] is one example.) Send them nice messages, ask their opinion on something, discuss things, or just straight up shitpost lol. Go wild. The sky’s your limit and it’s definitely more than 280 characters.

...and let them ask you! You can set your preference in the settings, do it on desktop tumblr to access more settings tho! What you can customize on mobile is limited (like letting people ask you things anonymously, that’s only on desktop settings). In my personal opinion, it’s always better to tag their username (or a nickname you give them, if they’re a friend) on that post, since you wouldn’t want your interactions with your friends to get buried in your blog forever.

Comment on posts. If you have something to say but don’t want the post to appear on your blog you can add a comment. The owner of the post will get a notif for it, but for anyone else you need to tag them.

For the love of god, reblog. People will only see your liked posts if you have it visible to public and they specifically go on your blog to look at them. You like something? You reblog. It’s already hard for posts to circulate properly, if you don’t reblog them literally no one will see them. If not for anything do it for the artists. Just hold and drag on mobile to fast rb.

3) Your Posts

Finally here! Don’t be a lurker, post and engage!

Make use of “read more”. If your post is long, add it. That’s what you clicked on earlier to expand this post. On desktop leave an empty line and you’ll see three dots appear, and on mobile type :readmore: on that empty line.

Draft a post to come back to it later. Pretty self explanatory.

Queue your post. Whether it’s your own post or you’re reblogging, make use of the queue feature to a) not spam reblog and fill up the dashboard of people following you and b) keep your blog active while you’re gone. Mess around in the settings, it’s fairly easy to set up.

Schedule your post. Same as queueing, the only difference is you get to choose the exact time your post will go up. Handy if you want to schedule a post for certain dates like april fools, or 5 years in the future for some reason. 

Format your texts. You can do all kinds of fancy stuff here (that’s a link, try pressing on it). Twitter doesn’t have this, make use of it. Changes depending on whether you’re on mobile or desktop. (Desktop has less features.)

Check your stats. If you’re trying to understand the algorithm better or want to look at some pretty graphs you can get your data on that on desktop tumblr.

@ people in comments. You’ll get all the notifs when people comment on your posts but they won’t see your reply unless you tag them in your message.

4) Tags, and tagging a post

This is where my earlier statement “this isn’t a rule book” stops being applicable. It’s not a war crime to go against these, I won’t come chasing you (don’t take my word for this) but you’ll work up a bad rep. Just saying lol.

Do NOT crosstag posts. It’s really tempting to add unrelated tags to increase your posts’ interaction, I know, but that’s not what tumblr is about. Don’t be a dick and make other communities’ experience worse for them.

Always tag your posts with “crit/critical/discourse/etc” if it calls for it. There’s no exceptions to it. This is the reason you see people migrating to tumblr. Let people enjoy things.

Don’t main tag a critical/negative post. If your crit post is about “Thing”, you add the “Thing critical” tag, but not the “Thing” tag. People block crit tags if they don’t want to see it, don’t shove it in their faces by main tagging it. 

If you don’t want to see something, just block it. Another reason why people are able to survive on tumblr. You don’t start discourse, you don’t make call-outs, you block. You can find something for every community you can think of if you go looking for it. The worst of the worst probably won’t ever appear on your dash, but if you’re worried or feel the need for it, you know where the block button is.

Feel free to shitpost or ramble. More often than not you’ll see people rb a post with a comment, and their elaboration will be in the tags. The tags are only visible on your profile and the notifications of the owner of the og blog. Just a thing people do.

Reblog artists’ posts with nice comments in the tags! Commenting on a drawing is usually done through the tags (Not an obligation, again, just a thing people do. Feel free to add your comment on the rb itself if you’d want other people to see it tho!) and leave nice messages for the artists! It’s a win-win for everyone involved. 

If you have more than a single follower, always use the common tw warning tags. You don’t need to tw everything, but tw’ing some common things is the bare minimum human decency. Keep it safe for others. 

Tag a post “long post” if it’s really long. Pretty self explanatory. Don’t make people scroll through all that please lol. 

You can use them to organize your blog. This is more of a pro tip, if you’d like to not miss a post in your blog, cause they will start pilin’ up soon enough.

#Liveblogging is pretty fun. If you’d like to talk to people during streams, don’t forget to add the relevant tags still! Again, you won’t show up on people’s dash otherwise.

Whew! That got out of hand. Hopefully I didn’t bore you too much. Check out blogs like @heritageposts and @hellsite-hall-of-fame to honor our past o7. @mcytblr-hall-of-fame too maybe :eyes:. Anyways, don’t forget the most important rule of them all:

Enjoy your stay! You’re meant to have fun on here while also making friends (if that’s your thing). Just be kind and respectful of others, you’ll get the hang of the rest! <3

[nachoscheesy]

Tumblr Revival

Tl;dr

Tumblr has a large interconnected community of artists and content creators, and should focus on its strengths and what it does right. Instead of trying to compete for space against Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. Tumblr should focus on empowering its community and giving that community the tools to develop the site's unparalleled uniqueness.

Tumblr is the crossroads of the internet, with a monthly user traffic of 300 million it is the perfect space for artists, content creators, and small businesses to grow their following without having to fight for a seat at the table against companies with huge budgets.

Hi, I go by Nacho here on tumblr, and I'm sure as many of us on tumblr have noticed, the (hell)site is kinda going downhill. Tumblr was bought by Automattic in fall of 2019, and I am sure they have the best intentions to help tumblr stay afloat. However, I think it's time the community took a more deliberate approach to how tumblr is handled, and hopefully Automattic and @staff will hear us out. I think I have a solid solution to tumblrs money issues, that will help both the site and empower its online communities.

First and foremost, I am not involved with Tumblr or Automattic. I am just a simple blog trying to help out a place that I've been on since 2010, and I would hate to see it die here around 2023.

So, let's get to the root of the problem on tumblr right now. That being money, tumblr is currently costing more money that it produces, as we've seen with its 97% drop in value from 1.1 billion dollar sale to being sold at around 3 million dollars.

So the first thing that must be improved before anything else can be improved on tumblr is how much money they're bringing in a month. I don't think folks on tumblr hate monetization as much as we all collectively say we do, I think the issue is that most advertisers are completely disconnected from the groups they are trying to advertise to on here. Tumblr comprises roughly 65% millennials and 30% gen-z, the two generations that advertisers seem to have the hardest time advertising to for a myriad of reasons. The main one being that they don't fully understand what we want, and sometimes just don't listen to what we are saying.

Lets look at how tumblr makes its money, Tumblr has four main revenue sources,

Ads by sponsored posts

Display ads through video posts

Sponsored Day ads or banner ads

“Premium Themes”

I'll go into depth on all of these and how tumblr could make potential changes to improve their revenue anywhere from three to six months after it implements some or ideally all of these changes.

First tumblr ads and sponsored posts, these changes are going to be contingent on tumblr allowing its users to share, like, and comment on ads much like all other media sites currently allow. Or at least giving advertisers the ability to turn that on or off as a function.

The average tumblr post gets reblogged 14 times, that number increases significantly if the ad is engaging and actually caters to the communities wants and needs. My reasoning for giving users the ability to reblog ads is to increase user engagement while maintaining their current ad vetting process and all of the nonsensical ads that are run on tumblr 90% of the time.

The other reason for allowing tumblr users to share and comment on ads, or have it be an option for advertisers to turn on or off as they'd like, is that the appeal of tumblr is the ability to propagate and obsess over the most niche things (i.e OSHA.)

All the while allowing content that gets shared all over the internet bubble up to the top through the collective hand of the tumblr community. Along with this tumblr has no way for small users to share their own products or services, every single major site has a way for users to advertise their pages or products through the site.

Tumblr is a content machine that creates imagery and memes that get shared all the time across the internet, so the ability to share and curate its own ads is paramount to improving advertising and user engagement on tumblr.

My proposal here is for tumblr to expand its advertising capabilities to all users, while charging a flat rate fee to advertise on tumblr, with additional charges for popular tags or trending tags. Tumblr currently has no self service advertising system much like Facebook does for example. Where facebook charges a daily rate on cost-per-click(CPC) or cost-per-thousand(CPM)

Charging a flat rate fee at a rate of a day, week, month, or quarterly basis with variances in prices based on the lease term and what the advertisers would want to have their ads show up on certain tags. This would open up the doors for small businesses that don't want to advertise on places like facebook, twitter, or google with their complicated CPM and CPC models. Also bringing in more small locally owned businesses with the added value of less competition for ad space on tumblr.

This would also take some of the weight from tumblrs own advertising staff from having to explain a convoluted system to potential advertisers. Creating a simplified model with the the advent of tumblrs own infrastructure able to get a single post to a large variety of users. Where the current ad model uses a “shotgun” method to hit as many people as possible, the tumblr model could encourage advertisers to curate a more personalized and intimate experience that tumblr users would love.

Why not just advertise elsewhere? Tumblr still in fact gets over 300 million views a month as of June 2021 (Statosta), and the added benefit for users to be able to like, share, and interact with ads would allow ads that the community enjoys to be talked about more. Giving advertisers more honest feedback about their ads while increasing their SEO’s.

Also small businesses that can't compete with the vetting processes that are used on other sites, would have a better chance of developing their business and increasing their clientele on tumblr whose core demographics are approximately 60% millennial and 35% gen-z. This core demographic does in fact care about being able to shop at local stores, or even a store across the US that is trying to drum up its own online sales.

These ads could be placed inline on the tumblr dash while moving other sponsored ads to the right of the site on desktop, but making them alternate on mobile between user ads and sponsored ads.

Second, the display ads should be changed to allow tumblr users to share and further interact with ads to generate more user engagement, incentivizing more businesses and companies to build their brand status on tumblr. Tumblr has a good model for creating short diaries or daily vlogs for companies that wish to show off their products on social media. This includes smaller businesses and vlogers that want to post videos or tutorials of themselves on their blog.

Tumblr is a good site for user engagement with a pool of creative potential for anyone wanting to gauge the desire for a particular subject or piece of media, maybe even an upcoming show. Having the ability to share and comment on sponsored ads would also help advertisers by allowing them to get more bang for their buck with a considerable uptick on how users engage with that content.

Third, tumblrs sponsor day ads and banner ads are inexpensive and should be highlighted as a selling point over their competitors. Tumblr 24-hour banner ads are considerably more affordable for businesses when compared to places like twitter with their 200k price point. For the same amount of money on tumblr a business could have their company at the top of the dashboard or app for 8 whole days. Much longer and much better than the competition.

Keeping this price fixed, with a change in the price CPC is still a much more lucrative and attractive selling point than any of the competition on the internet today. I know this might not be exactly what tumblr wants to hear when it is hemorrhaging money right now, but let's look at the cost for these 24 hour daily ads and banner ads. If tumblr hypes up the price point on these ads they could see a significant rise in advertisers considering the lack of competition on tumblr and past success stories of companies who did advertise on tumblr.

At the same time larger advertisers should be encouraged to make engaging ads and blogs on tumblr that will make people want to actually go to their blogs, that then link to an external site or page. Not ads that instantly try to force you to go to some other site, by rewarding or offering special discounts for people who find a special code or something off of the actual blog. Or even for giving the same code to everyone who reblogs a certain post made by the advertiser.

Seems too good to be true? Look at “Asos” back in 2015 when they held a shirt design competition on their tumblr blog. Where they had 900 submissions, four of which were picked, and were sold out of the user generated shirts in 10 hours.

This is not the only case however, but FX ran their own campaign for the show “Man Seeking Woman” where they saw a 2.8% increase in user engagement, 86% increase in their tumblr followers, and they actually saved money through advertising on tumblr.

All this leads me to believe that tumblr actually was and continues to be the best place for brands, small businesses, and artists to develop themselves through genuine user engagement.

Finally, the “premium themes” that are available on tumblr that allow for unparalleled customizations that you hardly find elsewhere on the internet anymore. Tumblrs ability to take a variety of media sources, as well as having an unparalleled level of customization, user interconnectivity, and a vibrant artistic scene shows that it is ripe with potential.

Tumblr could still use its post+ feature, but in the same way that Discord uses its subscription service. For cosmetic changes that can be added modularly to the site or individual blogs for an additional monthly fee. In conjunction with partnering with community artists to bring small cosmetic additions to individual blogs, while paying the content creator and tumblr taking a small portion of the profits over a certain amount.

To be completely honest this is probably the hardest portion of this entire pitch to make changes to in a shorter period of time, considering all the testing and “under the hood” changes that must be made. However, I think that implementing this as well as the other changes I have proposed will bring back more foot traffic to tumblr as well as increase its revenue and profitability.

In closing, I am simply working with whatever information I was able to find online and a good amount of time invested on my part to do this. I think tumblr has a ton of potential still to return as a force for good for the communities that exist and want a change from what the internet has become. Time and time again when any company or public entity dies it was because it did not change and refused to adapt and innovate, oftentimes not at the hands of the people working everyday to keep the site running. Instead at the hands of people who dont see the value in what has fallen in their laps.

If you agree and think this is something that can be done, please reblog this post and follow me for more updates. If I don't hear back or this does not gain any traction by the end of the year, then tumblr can go to its inevitable end. I will be here sinking with the ship.

@support @engineering @music @wip @changes @photomatt