#Pro boxing insights

[thesportswarriors]

✅ IT’S DONE. IT’S LIVE. IT’S WAR.

The DuCross Brothers: The Sports Warriors — Episode 196 is FINISHED and ready for battle! Tonight, we returned to the mic to drop straight fight talk on the combat sports world — no filters, no fluff, just real talk from real fans. ��� What’s inside this episode? Holly Holm’s shocking return to boxing MMA shakeups you didn’t see coming Fighters to watch and bold predictions Unfiltered…

[tinmate]

AFTG Social Media Headcannons

Part Two: The Foxes.

(Organized in order of their jersey numbers)

Dan: Twitter and Instagram. Both are verified after she becomes the first female captain in Exy. Her twitter is a healthy mix of Exy and her personal life. She doesn’t shy away from her past as a stripper and occasionally but passionately advocates for better protections and regulations around strippers and sex work in general. She posts a lot of candids of the team on Instagram and has Matt tagged in both bios

Kevin: Twitter and Instagram. Verified. Had a twitter while still with Ravens and was the only Raven other than Riko allowed social media. It was similarly monitored and ran by Tetsuji. Neil gets the password before leaving Evermore but Kevin doesn’t log in again until after changing his tattoo. He unfollows the Ravens, Edgar Allen, Tetsuji, Riko and anyone else even vaguely related to the Ravens. He also deletes everything but the username. He eventually starts tweeting but has trouble balancing his true self and his public self. He finds his stride after he begins to publicly decry the Ravens and defend Jean and Neil after the championships, loudly backing up and reinforcing his statements to the press. He advocates for mental health awareness in sports and anxiety and PTSD in men. He goes hard for the Trojans, much to the public’s amusement. He posts pictures of the places he’s traveled on Instagram, especially fond of historical monuments and tourist traps. He writes surprisingly insightful and concise captions, having had years of practice writing to Jean.

Andrew: Gets on every single social media before it’s trending and popular just to claim his username and then never ever posts.

Matt: Twitter and Instagram. Gets verified after going pro. Only has instagram so Dan can tag him in her bio. Has her tagged in both bios as well. Rarely tweets about Exy but retweets Dan when she does. Goes hard for his mom’s boxing career. Really into the monster truck community. Mostly tweets about his personal life and keeps a pretty normal twitter feed but also speaks up about drug addiction, mental health, and how to help children during a divorce. Someone calls him a nepo baby because his mom is also in professional sports (even though Exy and boxing are entirely different things) and the Foxes laugh about it for days. Dan posts him on instagram, calling him a nepo baby and it goes viral.

Aaron: Twitter. Very aware of his public perception. Very aware that future employers can see his twitter. Keeps it professional during the murder trial, following his lawyer’s advice to not say anything publicly. Not many Exy fans follow him because he rarely tweets about it, trying to keep his current and future professions clearly separated

Honorable mention, Katelyn: DOES tweet about Aaron and Exy. Has more followers than Aaron does because she’s so willing to talk about him. Goes hard for the Foxes online. She has a fan account ala Tess McCracken (Miss/Mrs. Pommel horse) to keep her Exy tweets separate but it’s more popular and stays popular because she remains a diehard Fox fan even after graduation and also posts about the professional teams Matt, Kevin, Neil, and Andrew go on to join

Allison: Similar to Andrew, she has every social media platform ever. Unlike Andrew, she uses them. Verified on all accounts. She had a strong following pre-Foxes and her Tumblr was the most aesthetic thing you’ve ever seen. Gets even more followers post-foxes. The Ilona Maher of Exy. Pretty, strong, and unapologetically feminine while being a beast in her sport. Leverages her popularity online and minor in marketing to start several businesses and turn into a millionaire in her own right, independent of her parents. Think the Kardashians without the sex scandal. Has her own fashion line, makeup line, and hair line. Redesigns Exy uniforms to better fit women and has a whole line of makeup dedicated to withstanding intense games of all sports. This line gets equally popular with dancers and performers of all kinds. Starts a charity for young girls and a scholarship for college women who want to play Exy but don’t have the money. Starts another charity for children who get cut off by their parents. Despite all her business success and turning into a brand, her social media remains surprisingly grounded and human. Goes viral regularly for being “an icon”

Nicky: Twitter, Instagram, Youtube, Vine (RIP), TikTok. Verified not for being a Fox but for being a meme lord. Gets the upperclassmen to do trends with him. Does a harmless prank of Neil that turns into an outright prank war before Wymack shuts it down. Several years after graduation, new fans regularly ask just HOW he knows so many professional Exy athletes and also theeeeeee Allison Reynolds. He has a funny answer to all of them but old fans are the ones who need to give an actual answer. His fans regularly beg to see Erik but Nicky shares him only occasionally as Erik doesn’t tend to like the spotlight. Erik will occasionally appear in a video or a trend, more commonly in a photo, but Nicky repeatedly states that Erik is not a toy and if his fans get too intense, he will stop posting entirely. Most fans respect this, the ones that don’t get blocked. He contributes regularly to forums about raising your family members (siblings raising siblings, cousins raising siblings, generally becoming a parent to a family member not that much younger than you are). As times passes, he talks more openly about his sexuality, his struggles with his family and his religion, conversion therapy, and where he stands now, still practicing (I'm not just making this up, he mentions in the books that he's still religious) but openly and proudly gay. He starts a not insignificant side hustle as a content creator. He participates in the “Things that surprised me as a American living in Germany” trends.

Renee: Twitter. Very private but very sweet. Doesn’t actually post about her religion that much but will answer when asked directly about it. Retweets her mother’s articles. Posts a lot about charities and relief work. Is the Fox most likely to respond to a fan. Rarely posts anything personal but responds when tagged in things by her friends. Secretly has a Tumblr and a reddit where she offers support and advice in communities regarding born again Christians, former gang members, foster kids, and recovery from abuse.

Neil: Twitter. Verified. Gets a twitter after the FBI make Neil Josten a real person. He avoided social media before this to avoid his father. Not as much of a menace as you would think, in part due to him wanting to deliver his roasts live and in person. Very careful about what he posts, not wanting to leave a trail and accidentally contradict himself in case he’s ever questioned about the Moriyamas or the Hartfords again. Still a bit of a menace though, he can’t help himself. Mostly gets tagged in videos and posts by Nicky and Dan for being a Weird Person. Unsurprisingly, most of his tweets are about Exy. Gains a sudden influx of followers during the Olympics, like Stephen Nedoroscik (pommel horse guy) or Henrik Christiansen (muffin man) for being a legend on the court, a menace to the press, and a weird ass guy online. Secretly has a Tumblr that goes very viral every few months because of “shitposts” about the mafia, his ganglord father, and the FBI. Blocks everyone who thirsts after his dad in the way that some people thirst after serial killers or irl gangsters. Nobody knows it’s him and one time Nicky shows him his own post about an FBI agent being obsessed with you and Neil has to keep a straight face.

Coach Wymack: Twitter. Verified. Mostly posts official Exy and Foxes news. Randomly posts crappy photos of the team plus Abby and Bee. His few non-Exy related posts have big Dad energy. People loudly thirst after him and it makes everyone, even Nicky, very uncomfortable.

Part One: The Ravens

[loganrestarts]

My DIY Art Degree

Some people think there’s an arbitrary marker where you’re finally a self-taught artist, that you eventually reach a point where you’re done with your art education. But I think we spend our whole lives learning, so my goal for my 37th year on earth is to start being a committed self-teaching artist. 

I have so many interests I want to improve and learn that I can’t predict what my progress or end result will look like, but some of the things I want to explore are:

Sketching and drawing

Coloring techniques and color theory

Painting with watercolor and gouache

Painting on the Procreate app

Creative Journaling

Handwriting, hand lettering, and calligraphy

So I dug up a bunch of books and videos to make up a curriculum and planned out my own DIY art degree to start learning them all! 

Each month has its own focus:

Learning About Learning Art 

Mark-making, Sketching, & Basic Shapes 

Perspective

Figure Drawing & Anatomy 

Gesture Drawing 

Character Design

Color & Light 

Composition 

Landscapes & Environmental Design

Using Markers & Colored Pencils 

Painting with Gouache & Watercolor 

Digital Art

I don’t have a syllabus for the full year planned out yet, but here’s a rough draft of the materials and activities I want to try out for Quarter 1:

❄️ January ❄️

✨January Focus: Learning About Learning Art✨

📚 January Materials 📚

Drawabox.com: Lesson 0

[Book] Art & Fear by David Bayles

[Book] Debt Free Art Degree. Foundations in Drawing by Marco Bucci: Chapters: 1

[Book] Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain by Betty Edwards

[Book] How to Keep a Sketch Journal by Marisa Lewis

[Book] Sketching from the Imagination: An Insight into Creative Drawing by 3DTotal Publishing

[Book] Art Fundamentals: Theory in Practice by 3DTotal Publishing. Chapters: Fundamentals & Critical Thinking

[YouTube] Veritasium: The 4 Things it Takes to Be an Expert

[YouTube] Ian Roberts: 5 Principles to Master Anything

[YouTube] Proko: Getting Better Faster - Painting with 80/20 Rule

[YouTube] Proko: How to Hold and Control Your Pencil

[YouTube] Sycra: Iterative Drawing

[YouTube] Love Life Drawing: 10 Stages of Learning Any Art Skill

[YouTube] Love Life Drawing: Practice Like a Pro - How Steve Rude Improves

[YouTube] Sinix: Art Theory Tutorials Playlist

[YouTube] Sinix: Art Warm Up & Exercises

[YouTube] belartsy: the “right” way to start learning how to draw

[YouTube] Paintable: Sketching For Beginners

[YouTube] Marc Brunet: How to Draw Anything - The 7 Fundamentals

[YouTube] Marc Brunet: How to Draw Good Lineart

[YouTube] Marc Brunet: Stop Learning to Draw the Wrong Way

[YouTube] Marc Brunet: The Most Important Art Skill

[LinkedIn Learning] Drawing Foundations: Fundamentals

[Gumroad] moderndayjames: Intro to Dynamic Sketching ($8)

[Reddit] r/ArtistLounge: How to get better at observing the world around me?

✍️ January Activities ✍️

Set a baseline by making whatever I want

(I know January has already passed; I'll post an update with what I actually managed to get through.)

💝 February 💝

✨ February Focus: Mark-making, Sketching, & Basic Shapes ✨

📚 February Materials 📚

[Book] How to Draw and Think Like a True Artist by Warren Martin. Days 1-5

[Book] Drawing for the Absolute Beginner by Mark and Mary Willenbrink. Chapters 1-2

[Book] You Can Draw in 30 Days by Mark Kistler. Lessons 1-7; 10-13; 15; 19

[Book] Perspective Made Easy by Ernest Norling. Chapters 1-8

[Book] Art Fundamentals 2nd Edition by 3DTotal Publishing. Chapter: Perspective & Depth

[Book] Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain by Betty Edwards

[Book] Debt Free Art Degree: Foundations in Drawing by Marco Bucci. Chapters: 1, 3

[Book] How to Draw by Scott Robertson. Chapters 1-2

[Reference Pictures] Fundamentals: Shiny Forms

[Reference Pictures] Fundamentals: Basic Forms

[YouTube] Uncomfortable: Drawabox Videos Playlist (Lesson 1)

[YouTube] moderndayjames: Perspective 1

[YouTube] moderndayjames: Perspective 2

[YouTube] moderndayjames: Perspective 6

[YouTube] The Art of Nemo: The ONLY Box Rotation Exercise That’s ACTUALLY Useful

[LinkedIn Learning] Drawing 2-Point Perspective

✍️ February Activities ✍️

drawabox.com 

Lesson 1 & Homework

250 Box Challenge

🍀 March 🍀

✨March Focus: Perspective ✨

📚 March Materials 📚

[Book] Perspective Made Easy by Ernest Norling. Chapters 9-18

[Book] Drawing for the Absolute Beginner by Mark and Mary Willenbrink. Chapters 2; 5

[Book] You Can Draw in 30 Days by Mark Kistler. Lessons 22-27

[Book] How to Draw and Think like a True Artist by Warren Martin. Days 6-14

[Book] How to Draw by Scott Robertson. Chapters 2-7

[Book] Art Fundamentals 2nd Edition by 3DTotal Publishing. Chapters: Perspective & Depth

[Book] Framed Perspective I - Marco Mateu-Mestre. Chapter: 1

[Book] Debt Free Art Degree: Foundations in Drawing by Marco Bucci. Chapters: 3

[YouTube] moderndayjames: Perspective 3

[YouTube] moderndayjames: Perspective 4

[YouTube] moderndayjames: Perspective 5

[YouTube] moderndayjames: Visual Library I 

[YouTube] moderndayjames: Visual Library II 

[YouTube] moderndayjames: Visual Library III

[YouTube] moderndayjames: Vehicle Sketching I 

[YouTube] moderndayjames: Vehicle Sketching II

[YouTube] moderndayjames: Vehicle Sketching III

[YouTube] moderndayjames: Vehicle Sketching IV

[YouTube] moderndayjames: Sketching Figures in Extreme Perspective

[YouTube] moderndayjames: Emulating Even Amundsen Series

[YouTube] moderndayjames: Becoming a Gi Series

✍️ March Activities ✍️

drawabox.com: Lesson 2 & Homework, 250 Cylinder Challenge, Begin 25 Texture Challenge

100 Rotated Objects - based on moderndayjames Visual Library videos

100 Unique Studies (machinery, vehicles, plants, animals)

🖌️ Some Ongoing Activities 🖌️

50/50 Rule: 50% studying, 50% funsies

[Book] 30 Days of Creativity by Johanna Basford

[Book] 2025 Johanna Basford Wall Calendar

[Book] The Lost Art of Handwriting by Brenna Jordan

[Book] Spencerian Handwriting: The Complete Collection of Theory and Practical Workbooks for Perfect Cursive and Hand Lettering by Platts Roger Spencer

[Workbook] New Spencerian Compendium Plate 2 Practice Sheets (Found on PDF Drive)

Hand lettering worksheets I made in Canva

This is by no means a comprehensive education, but I feel like I came up with a good introduction to the things I’m interested in. I’m not going to learn everything about all of these topics in just a year, and I know I'm not going to get through all the resources I found.

I also want to make this process as cheap as possible, so I’m using a lot of free stuff from YouTube and my local libraries. Many of the resources came from radiorunner’s Curriculum for the Solo Artist and suggestions I found through the almighty social media algorithms. 

If your libraries can’t get the books on order or Inter-Library Loan, or if you’d rather just buy them to keep, I’m including Amazon affiliate links. (Many can be found as PDFs through other free methods but I definitely don’t recommend looking for the books on Demonoid, Mobilism, or PDF Drive.)

What do you think I'm missing? What do you think is too extra?

Learning is a life-long process, so even though I gave myself a year to restart, it’s just that: my restart. 

[robfinancialtip]

The Halo Collar 3 is poised to redefine the landscape of dog safety, and we're thrilled to reveal its latest Orchid (Magenta) edition in an unboxing video by Kaaren. Join us as we explore the exciting features packed into this innovative device.

In this unboxing video, the sleek matte finish of the Orchid (Magenta) Halo Collar 3 pro case takes center stage, providing a stylish look and a symbol of cutting-edge technology. Slide open the box to reveal the collar, showcasing its modern design. The collar effortlessly opens, revealing a carefully curated set of items.

The package includes a USB-C to USB-C adapter, ensuring efficient charging for your Halo Collar. This guarantees that your device is always ready for action, providing seamless connectivity for you and your canine companion. As we delve deeper, an indoor beacon emerges as a valuable accessory designed to assist in training and identifying specific indoor areas for your dog. The package also features prongs for static, ensuring a comprehensive setup tailored to your furry friend's safety and well-being.

But the innovation continues beyond there. Join Kaaren as she uncovers the versatility of the Halo Collar's accessories. The included indoor beacon aids in training and restricting specific indoor areas, while an optional outdoor beacon extends the safety boundaries for your dog during outdoor activities.

Stay tuned for more insights and in-depth explorations into the world of the Halo Collar 3, where pet safety meets modern technology. The Halo Collar 3 – is not just a device but a holistic solution for enhancing the well-being of your furry friend.

Also, check out Halo Collar 3’s new vibrant sunny SUNBURST color.

WATCH the related video for more detailed unboxing and demo of what the Halo Collar 3 offers.

[themindfulmind]

How to Mentally Glow Up in 2025: The Year of You

Let’s be real… 2025 is your time to shine, but not just on the outside. The real glow-up? It happens in your mind. A sharp, healthy, vibrant mentality isn’t just a flex—it’s the foundation for the best version of you. So buckle up, because we’re diving deep into how you can mentally glow up and take over the world (or at least your corner of it).

1. Purge the Mental Clutter

Imagine your mind as your room—would you want to hang out in there? If the answer is no, it’s time to declutter. Here’s how:

• Start journaling: Write down every negative thought, lingering insecurity, or limiting belief. Put it all out there. Then, reflect on how those thoughts are serving (or sabotaging) you.

• Practice forgiveness: Let go of grudges, even if it’s just for your own peace. Write letters you’ll never send or say “I forgive you” out loud to the universe.

• Create a “mental donation box”: Just like you’d donate old clothes, decide what thoughts and habits no longer fit the person you’re becoming. Release them.

Create a new life by creating a better, more mindful space of mind.

2. Curate Your Input

What you consume shapes who you are, so curate it like your personal Pinterest board.

• Social media: Follow accounts that inspire, teach, or make you laugh. Unfollow the ones that make you feel drained or insecure.

• Conversations: Surround yourself with people who add value to your life—those who uplift, motivate, and challenge you. Let go of energy vampires.

• Entertainment: Watch shows, read books, and listen to podcasts that expand your perspective. Make every scroll and screen time session intentional.

Your input should be a reflection of the person you’re becoming, not the person you’ve outgrown.

3. Romanticize Routine

Stop treating your daily life like a chore. Instead, make it a vibe:

• Morning rituals: Light a candle, put on a playlist, and make your coffee like you’re starring in a cinematic masterpiece.

• Self-care: Don’t just slap on moisturizer—massage it in while reminding yourself how stunning you are.

• Work: Set up your space with little touches that spark joy (a cute mug, fresh flowers, or a diffuser). Even your to-do list can look aesthetic with some color coding.

When you find beauty in the mundane, everything feels magical.

4. Invest in Self-Awareness

True growth starts with knowing yourself. Here’s how to dig deep:

• Meditation: Start with 5 minutes a day. You don’t need to be a pro—just sit quietly, breathe, and observe your thoughts without judgment.

• Journaling prompts: Explore questions like, What do I truly want? What am I afraid of? What brings me joy?

• Therapy: If it’s accessible to you, therapy is a game-changer. Having someone guide you through your thoughts can unlock levels of understanding you didn’t know you needed.

• Personality tools: Whether it’s Myers-Briggs, Enneagram, or astrology, these can give you insights into how you think and feel.

Self-awareness is like upgrading to 4K resolution—you start seeing everything clearly.

5. Embrace the “Soft Hustle”

We’re leaving grind culture in the past. The glow-up isn’t about working 24/7; it’s about aligning with your passions and values.

• Set “aligned” goals: Instead of chasing what society tells you to, ask yourself, What do I actually care about? Then focus on that.

• Prioritize rest: Rest is productive. Schedule downtime like you would an important meeting.

• Celebrate progress: Even baby steps count. Write down your wins, no matter how small, and acknowledge your growth.

Remember, working smarter doesn’t mean you’re slacking—it means you’re evolving.

6. Surround Yourself with Expanders

You’re the average of the five people you spend the most time with, so choose wisely.

• Look for expanders: These are people who’ve done what you want to do, inspire you, or challenge you to grow.

• Create boundaries: If someone’s energy feels draining or toxic, it’s okay to step back. Protecting your peace isn’t selfish; it’s essential.

• Join communities: Whether it’s online or in person, connect with like-minded people who support your goals.

You deserve to be in spaces where your growth is celebrated, not diminished.

7. Celebrate the Small Wins

Progress isn’t always flashy, and that’s okay. Here’s how to make every step feel like a victory:

• Keep a “wins” journal: Write down something you’re proud of every day, no matter how small.

• Reward yourself: Finished a tough task? Treat yourself to your favorite snack or an episode of that show you love.

• Practice gratitude: Every time you achieve something, even if it feels minor, pause and thank yourself for showing up.

Success is built on the little moments, so don’t overlook them.

8. Rewrite Your Narrative

Your story is yours, and 2025 is the year you take the pen back.

• Shift your mindset: Instead of saying, “I’m behind,” say, “I’m exactly where I need to be.”

• Create affirmations: Write down empowering statements like, I am capable. I am resilient. I am becoming the best version of myself.

• Visualize your future: Spend a few minutes each day imagining the life you want. Picture every detail… the sights, sounds, and feelings. Then take one small step toward it every day.

You’re not stuck, you’re just starting. And the best part? You get to decide how the story unfolds.

2025 is the year of you. Glow up mentally, and everything else will follow. You’ve got this. Now go out there and shine so bright that even your past self is inspired. ✨

[variousqueerthings]

i will say -- and this isn't news to anyone who watches elementary -- but there's such a cognitive dissonance between the episodes where sherlock and/or joan are doing things blatantly outside of the law in order to protect A Victim (for example the episode where Sherlock knows the killer is the teenage boy who was abused by his father, or when Sherlock went to see Kitty as she was considering murder and kinda went "you may not like being a murderer, have you considered acid?") and episodes that are like. super pro-cops

and yeah yeah any show related to crimes will have copaganda, it's not an indictment of anything more than what happens on a million other shows however I do think it's more whiplash in this one, because those episodes are like. "Cops. we look out for each other. Cops who narc on corrupt Cops are more the enemy than the corrupt Cops themselves. I will literally begin a harassment campaign against this civilian (Joan) for looking into whether a Cop was corrupt even though her findings cleared her. this is not A Bad Person Thing To Do. because I am A Cop. and if you try to complain about harassment I'll know you're not To Be Trusted around Cops. who put their Lives on the Line. Brothers In Arms who can never ever be questioned because of The Sacrifice. that episode where Gregson's daughter had been assaulted by her partner and she was begging him not to do anything about it, because it would tank her career." and none of this ever has real follow-through in any way, because then the show would have to be about how there are a lot of corrupt cops and even the ones who aren't are bound by an immoral system, which would defeat the point of crime-of-the-week format (although I note they could've solved this issue by just not going so hard on the weird pro-cop episodes in the first place and just left it at an ambient amount of expected copaganda)

it's an interesting insight into the tension that exists between some of what the show is sort of trying to do with Sherlock Holmes and Joan Watson as the main protagonists (acting outside The System), but someone on that writing team has the most cognitive dissonance about what that means in a show that's also about policing. maybe everyone on there.

but it introduces a whole different set of ideas than intended (if you're the kind of audience that isn't super unquestioning about police) which is, "hey this is like. really messed up. cops really think like this? that's kind of culty. anyone else think this is culty? and this is pro-policing??"

I think a different show that had a similarish remit in characters, that is "protagonist is investigating crimes but is operating outside of the system, and there are also cops" could do something with this attitude by having the protagonists go "huh. that. is messed up. get a different job if you all have PTSD? also how many people have you manhandled who were innocent, just... curious. and uh... how many internal crimes have you covered up for the Good Of The Team?"

alas, this iteration -- while certainly getting us some of the way -- will not have Sherlock sincerely questioning the American prison system. but it will have Joan challenging a cop to an Honours boxing match and winning, which sort of nudged on the above ideas so, will take it and play with it in my mind

[theanticool]

One of my favorite boxing writers, Malissa Smith, has finally published a sequel to her book on women’s boxing history!

The Promise of Women’s Boxing: A Momentous New Era for the Sweet Science is now available!

The must-read book on the rise of elite women’s boxing

On April 30th, 2022, the first boxing super-fight of the era, headlined by two women and fought at Madison Square Garden, lived up to its hype and then some. The two contestants fought the battle of their lives in front of a sold-out crowd and garnered 1.5 million views through online streaming. It was the culmination of a long, three-centuries arc of women’s boxing history, a history fraught with highs and lows but always imbued with the heart and passion of the women who fought.

In The Promise of Women's Boxing: A Momentous New Era for the Sweet Science, Malissa Smith details the exciting period from the 2012 Olympics through the true “million-dollar baby” women’s super-fights of 2022 and beyond. Rich in content, the stories that emerge focus on boxing stars new and old, important battles, and the challenges women still face in boxing. Smith examines the development of the sport on a global basis, the transition of amateur boxers to the pros, the impact of online streamlining on the sport, the challenges boxing has faced from MMA, and the unprecedented gains women’s boxing has made in the era of the super-fight with extraordinary seven-figure opportunities for elite female stars.

Featuring the stories of women’s boxing icons Katie Taylor, Amanda Serrano, Savannah Marshall, and more, and with a foreword by two-time Olympic gold medalist and three-time undisputed champion Claressa Shields, The Promise of Women’s Boxing offers unprecedented insight into the incredible growth of the sport and the women who have fought in and out of the ring to make it all possible.

[dreamingkitsunewrites]

Hey homie, here's a question:

How would you interpret the meaning of Heart-Shaped Box by Nirvana?

Hey friend 💜

I love this question, and I’m honored to share my thoughts with you 😻

I’m actually pretty curious about this mysterious topic because Nirvana is one of my favorite bands. I even read an entire biography about In Utero back in the day, so please forgive my rambling in advance 😂

(possibly triggered and upsetting content under the cut)

Both the lyrics and the music video of this song have this haunting, surreal vibe. The fact that part of it recreates a hospital setting probably refers to a visit the band made to a pediatric hospital shortly before the song was written, which apparently left Kurt particularly moved. ("I wish I could eat your cancer when you turn black")

The subject of the song is definitely his relationship with Courtney Love, which seems to have been troubled, especially toward the end. The "box" in question could refer both to the gift Courtney gave him and also act as a metaphor for, well... feminine private parts (which could tie into the idea of a "toxic relationship based on sex"). "I've been locked inside your heart-shaped box for weeks"

Personally, I believe there’s much more behind both the lyrics and the video, reflecting Cobain’s unique insight into the world and his personal struggles. For instance, the imagery of Jesus on a cross in a field of poppies, which clearly symbolize drugs. And the numerous references to abortion, pro-life movements, and critiques of the Church.

I even like to think of the entire meaning as a visual, visionary interpretation of Nietzsche’s "God is dead" theory, but that’s just my own thought...

I don’t know, I feel like I’m rambling too much. I hope my thoughts make sense to you (sometimes I question my own brain 😂).

Now I’m curious—what do you think about it? 👀���

[beautozhomes]

Expert Tips on Home Renovation & Construction in Sydney: What Every Homeowner Should Know

Renovating or building a home in Sydney can be one of the most rewarding investments you'll ever make — but it can also be stressful without the right guidance. With over 20 years of industry knowledge and writing experience, I’ve seen what works, what doesn’t, and what every homeowner must know before embarking on a renovation or new construction project.

In this guide, I’ll share expert tips on how to make your renovation smooth, efficient, and value-driven — whether you're updating a bathroom, extending your home, or building from scratch. These insights are based on years of industry practices, Sydney market trends, and proven results from professionals like Beaut Oz Homes.

1. Always Start With a Clear Plan

Before swinging a hammer or selecting tiles, sit down and define your goals. Are you renovating for resale, growing your family, or improving lifestyle functionality?

Pro Tip: According to a 2023 Houzz survey, 88% of homeowners said having a detailed plan before starting made their project more successful.

Beaut Oz Homes always begins with a comprehensive consultation to align vision, timeline, and budget — and it makes all the difference.

2. Focus on High-Impact Areas: Kitchen, Bathroom, and Living

These are the most used — and most valued — spaces in a home. Modernising a bathroom or updating your kitchen can yield up to 80% ROI when done right.

Design Tip: Consider timeless materials and neutral colour palettes to increase resale appeal and long-term satisfaction.

Beaut Oz Homes specialises in kitchen and bathroom renovations that blend luxury and function — check out their gallery to see recent transformations.

3. Don't Underestimate the Power of Extensions

If you love your location but need more space, extending your home is a smart move. Whether it’s a new bedroom, second story, or open-plan living area, extensions should seamlessly blend with the original structure.

Stat Check: Realestate.com.au reports that a well-executed extension can increase a home’s value by 20%–25%.

Beaut Oz Homes crafts tailored home extensions that look and feel like they’ve always been part of the house.

4. Add a Granny Flat for Passive Income or Multigenerational Living

Granny flats are booming in Sydney due to changing family dynamics and rental demand. A fully compliant, well-designed granny flat can offer both function and financial gain.

Data Insight: CoreLogic found that adding a secondary dwelling can increase rental income by 30%–50% in some Sydney suburbs.

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[omi-papus]

Light The Lamp

Part: 1

Fandom: Subnautica

Pairing: Robin x Al-An

Ao3 link

Content: Age difference, ADHD x Autism, Ableist slur, Ice Hockey AU, Human Al-An AU, Drug use, Eventual smut

Summary: Rookie ice hockey player Robin Ayou stuns the league with a controversial but impressive debut, catching the eye of popular YouTuber Alan Silvester. Known for his hockey insights. After an awkward first encounter, he begs her to feature in one of his videos. And she after thinking shes found her new babygirl cant help but agree.

Word count: 12.5k

A/N: Hey guys. This is going to be very diferent from my usual writing style. Ive decided to drastically improve my formatting and actually got a beta reader if you can belive it. Hopefully this will be a step in the right direction for me. Enjoy!

This was going to drive him up a wall. His assistant had to be testing him because there was no other explanation as to why he would fail so spectacularly. He weighed the pen deliberately between his fingers, awful. A mere ballpoint pen, with weak half-carbon ink that could not write worth a damn under pressure, Robinson had brought it to him and had left far too quickly to be questioned as to why he brought him this garbage and where his Uni-ball Jetstream RT pen was. He had a box specifically for them, if the last one he was using had been damaged, and the refills were in a color-indicated container so that running out of the non smudging, waterproof oil based ink was never a problem. He vehemently refused to waste the precious paper of his Moleskine Pro notebook on this abomination and was forced to scramble around to find a stack of printer paper. The mere horror of having to write his notes on such a thing took up a whole two minutes, and his process of stapling enough pages together took him a whole other three, so his attention was only halfway with the commentators as they discussed the preamble for the game. He knew all of it anyway, but he would have much rather been properly focused on the TV standing tall in front of the desk he had set up.

Even when he had finally settled down, he was still irked senselessly by the memories that flooded his mind of his assistant telling him to take it easy on this game. That it wasn't a big deal, as the novelty of the Alterra Giants forming a twin female team had worn off. To be fair, it was Alan's first dive into the female hockey division. And the response from his audience to him covering women's hockey hadn't exactly been a fantastic incentive to continue. From a purely financial perspective, a stack of stapled paper and a barely functional pen would be what this game deserved. He would be better off getting his notes for his final coverage of the female division of the Alterra giants done quickly, making it a short section on the video, and preparing to talk about the Reapers’s new coach. Unfortunately for him, there was a problem. A big gaping hole in that sound line of logic.

The women's division of the Alterra Giants was one of the best teams he had ever seen.

Ryley suggested that it might simply be lackluster competition and the significantly higher funding that came with being associated with a famous male team, but Alan knew better. The way they played was impeccable. They were simultaneously ruthless and extremely synergized as a team. The team members' individual stats rivaled most men on the rink, and those team members were all from highly successful teams beforehand. By all means, the Alterra Giants were a phenomenon to keep track of. Alan easily found himself frustrated by the reaction on social media to his coverage of them. He had believed that he would have cultivated an audience that cared enough about the sport itself and how it was played, as opposed to a bunch of nitwits that used his channel as a vehicle to engage in endless drivel about the same seven teams and would throw a tantrum when he dared to look away. He had given up on discussing historical games because of the low engagement, and he did not want to give up on something he cared about again. He had quit his job as an official commentator to pursue this path with his own Youtube channel, to have the freedom to discuss what he wanted however he wanted. So he would stick to his choice of subject matter as stubbornly as he stuck to his choice of pen.

There were some other particular points of interest in this game. They were playing against the Trivalves, a much older team but one with very little fanfare. Mediocre win streak and only one title to their name in two thousand and ten. What was somewhat intriguing was that this would be the debut of three new players on the team. Olivia Lopez, Sarah Church, and Robin Ayou.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She had broken a tooth. It was nipping the side of her cheek in a way she was sure would leave a mark, but she had yet to taste blood. She had tuned out most of coach Maidas speech, she was sure she would get scolded for it. She kept quiet mostly, only offering vague vocalizations of acknowledgement to test out her ability to speak. It didn't hurt horribly. She ran her tongue over it carefully, confirming it was one of the left teeth on the side, hopefully not immediately obvious if she kept a low profile.

It had been a goal. That's all that mattered. She had humiliatingly fallen to the cold ice floor when she hit the puck from halfway across the rink and managed to score. She was sure as hell not going to get kicked out of the match now, three minutes into the game. The injury could be dealt with later; no one had to know about it. Her mouth guard still fit just fine and actually dulled the pain. She adjusted her helmet and gripped her stick tighter. Stepping out onto the rink, she could only wish she had done her hair a little tighter.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You are one hell of a stupid kid, ain't ya girl?” coach Marguerite Maida let out while pinching her nose bridge standing opposite to the young woman that sat on the locker room bench pressing an ice pack to the side of her face, the taste of blood finally making its appearance.

“I got us three goals. I won! Shouldn't we be celebrating right now? Ow! Ooooohhh…” Robin failed to protest. The coach ran her palm across her face before gesturing wildly, slouching her posture and bending her knees almost as if to get down to her level.

“That is the BARE minimum you can do! And the next time you won't have beginner's luck riding on your dick.”

“It was against the Alterra Giants! That can't be luck, I destroyed them!”

“And destroyed your goddamn mouth to boot!”

“Listen- ow ow ow ow… You told me to never be a pussy and get back up no matter what. And trust me coach, if I can get over you fucking my sister, I can move past anything.”

She expected a scowl but received a smirk, almost as if the coach suddenly got some malevolent idea.

“Oh yeaaaaah, what will Samantha think of you galavanting around, breaking teeth like they're candy?”

Robin's smile dropped. Her brows furrowing and her shoulders tensing up, she lowered the ice pack and glared at the woman in front of her.

“You wouldn't dare…”

"Oh, I would sweet cheeks. And I'll do it right now.”

She pulled out her phone, and Robin was ready to jump her and get it out of her hands if her life depended on it, but at that precise moment, the rest of the team burst into the locker room, cheering and chanting in celebration. Robin was quickly picked up by a larger teammate and paraded around like a trophy. She got too caught up being red in the face to realize the coach leaving the room.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Woman, you are in your twenties, she's not gonna hit you with a belt.”

Calvin looked over at his friend, who was fretting over her phone right next to him on the couch. They were supposed to be celebrating, beer and pizza abundant across the table, the TV gleaming in the mostly dark living room. He was shocked that she was glued to her phone even as the documentary narrator started talking about Ventgarden leviathans, her favorite leviathan that just yesterday she had yapped his ear off about a new documentary that had come out where they actually got footage inside it, and now that they were watching it, all she could do was wait for a scolding like she was a little kid.

“What would you fucking do if your mom called wanting you dead?!” she yelled hysterically, gripping her phone so hard she might break it.

"Robin, you have a mom, you don't have to be more afraid of your sister than you are of her.”

She pouted at him and proceeded to aggressively finish another slice of pizza. It was her cheat day after all. If Maida knew about this, she would surely finally just up and kill her.

"Well, you should be asking Sam why she's dating a woman old enough to be her mom.”

“Weren't you thirsting about that old guy in the commercial last week? I'd say it runs in the family.”

“He was hot! Shut up! And also even then she didn't have to date my fucking coach.”

“I'm at least seventy percent sure that she only let you into the team because of Sam.”

“I win three to two against the Alterra giants, and this is how all of you thank me?!” She crossed her arms and sank further into the couch.

She had every intention to stay like that the rest of the night, but her eyes focused on the TV. She leaned forward with her elbows on her knees. The diver was at the bottom of a heat vent overlooking an adult Ventgarden, its maw beneath the tentacles fluttered open and the diver with the camera strapped got closer. Robin held her breath as she watched it, expecting a cut, but she couldn't help but have her eyes wide open and her mouth agape as they moved inside when its mouth opened. The diver spun around, showing a full three sixty view of the mesmerizing inside of the creature; large tree-like protrusions decorate the inside, alive with a multitude of plants and minerals. The large cone shaped structure at the top of its translucent bell shone like a divine chandelier. It took her a couple of seconds to remember to inhale.

“You know they base a type of underwater greenhouse on this leviathan?”

“Yes Robin, you've told me this six times.”

"Yeah yeah, fuck you too.”

They sat in silence, finally enjoying the documentary. Mostly Robin did, Cal opted to fiddle with his phone and briefly chuckled at a text he received.

“Yo, actually. Turns out Ryley works for a guy that has a hockey channel on youtube.”

Robin looked over at him, unimpressed and mostly annoyed that she had to divert her attention from the documentary to respond.

“You waited until now to find out what your new boyfriend does for a living?”

Cal turned slightly red at the accusation, scratching the back of his neck.

“Shut up you nearly got engaged to a girl you knew for a week.”

“THAT WAS A JOKE!”

“Sure, anyway, Ryley's boss is apparently insane and he's telling me he just went ballistic on him for bringing him the wrong pen.”

“Well what the hell do you expect from a man with a youtube channel.”

“True, but check it, it's Alan Silvester.”

Her expression barely changed.

“Don't play the name game with me.” she deadpanned.

“The commentator??!” Whether he sounded incredulous or offended, she couldn't tell.

“NHL?”

“Yeah!”

“Haven't kept up with it, sorry.”

“You are the only person who doesn't watch the NHL.”

“I do! Ive just been busy, you know, playing my own fucking league!”

“He was a commentator four years ago!”

Robin returned to looking at the screen, they were now talking about Snow stalkers, which was much more interesting to her.

“Who cares? He sounds like an asshole.”

"Yeah, you'd know.”

“Piss off.”

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He stayed late. It nearly felt like it was going to boil him alive but his routine took a back seat today. He needed to do this now. He stayed late in his office, the game long over, and the arena now silent. The harsh glow of his computer screen and the soft hum of the heater kept him awake. He had his computer and his two notebooks and finally his preferred pen all lined up as he paused and unpaused the tv. This was his third rewatch of the game. He watched it re-reading the notes he took initially, then again finally taking new notes with the right notebook and pen, and finally, what he had originally planned on doing tomorrow, go through the game bit by bit, pausing and rewinding while writing down on his Midori MD notebook. After that, he would use all he had written down to begin writing the script for the video.

He paused the screen on a frame of her face.

She was injured. Seemingly nobody else could tell. He hadn't seen a goal like that in months, somehow flying past the other team's perfect coordination. It was almost as if it were mathematically calculated on the fly. Only to then proceed to fall flat on her face. It was undeniable that she carried the game, but her apparent inability to do so without nearly breaking her jaw was fascinating. He couldn't help but chuckle at himself as he watched her smash into the boarder of the rink for the second time. Clumsy wasn't quite the word to describe her. It would have been much simpler if he could pin her down in any way. Her playstyle was erratic, she played well enough with her team, but there were times where it appeared as though the world around her disappeared and she was locked in to the goal. She simultaneously had incredible and terrible spatial awareness, and the crazy thing is that it all somehow brought her to victory against one of the most ruthless teams he had ever seen. To say she had potential felt like both an understatement and also blatantly wrong. She was more akin to throwing a bull in a flock of sheep and seeing what happened. The entire time, he couldn't help a certain giddiness from filling him. He wasn't going to be covering anything other than the PHF for the time being. Audience engagement be damned. This was too damn fun.

His determined scribbling was interrupted when he felt a buzz in his right pocket. He stiffly put the pen and notebook down as his back straightened subconsciously. Suddenly the glow of the television in the otherwise dark room felt like something he had to fix, his jacket something to take off indoors, his shades neatly contained in their case in his left drawer something to be ashamed of, and the hour he was out of the house at a death sentence. His chosen ringtone, the only one that didn't drive him insane, made him feel cumbrous. Alan hesitated for only a second before pulling out the phone and staring at the screen. He already knew who it was. Nobody else ever called him. He paused the game. Both sounds at once were searing to his senses. Of course. This was inevitable. He had sworn to himself that he would call at the right time from his office and save himself the trouble. This was just his unavoidable punishment for breaking his perfectly calculated routine, because the damage it did to his nerves wasn't suffering enough.

The phone was still ringing. He took a deep breath and placed it down on the table and answered, immediately putting it on speaker.

“Mothe-“

“Why didn't you call me?”

“I-“

“You scared me beyond belief! Where are you?”

“At home.”

He definitely felt his eye twitch as he said that but he would live.

“Who are you with? You should have called me, Alan, who is at your house right now?”

"Mother, no one. I am here alone.”

“You would have called me if you were alone at home, or are you out there somewhere? Why don't you call me when we agreed to?”

“I simply got caught up in… work, in work I have to do around the house. I was going to call you. It is only ten minutes late.”

“Hah! Tell me what of all the times you've yelled and cried and threw a fit when I was late to something then?! When I started lessons five minutes late Alan?! Are you going to pay me back for that?!”

“I have apologized multiple times for that mother. Please.”

“Oh! But then what about when the doctor took all of ten seconds to arrive and you threw a fit?!”

“I was five.”

“Don't get smart with me, I am still your mother. Now where are you and who are you with?!”

He thought about it. About the semantics of putting up a lie. Of how much it would take to convince her. Concluding that he could not fool her as she would eventually demand he share his location on his phone. He threw in the towel.

“Fine! I stayed late at the office working. I'm sorry. I won't let work interfere with our call agai-“

“Don't call it work! You had a job four years ago, and when you finally make something out of this obsession of yours you throw it away because, baby can't have everything exactly how he likes it!”

Her high pitched mocking tone made him grip the edge of the table.

“Mother, I have paid your electricity bill, water bill and phone bill for the month and I've been affording my medications just fine. You can't deny the fact that I make a living honestly.”

“I have done nothing but support you your entire life, the doctors told me you might never so much as be independent. I never gave up on you and even when you could have been a doctor you chose to throw our lives away because you could never let go of this game.”

He sighed, leaning back on his chair. He was too worked up by the game, that's why this felt more irritating than normal. Breathing out, he took the phone and turned off the speaker mode, putting it to his ear.

“What can I do to make this up for you?”

His voice was calm. Gentle. A practiced measure of breath that flowed just right in his voice to sound like what he had learned was supposed to be the sound of sincerity.

“Well you can get a real job first of all. But for this we can have lunch tomorrow. I haven't seen you in a while. I miss you Alan. You barely ever talk to me anymore.”

He pointedly ignores the urge to correct that he calls her every day at eight pm sharp. And that she visited his apartment unprompted last week.

“I miss you too.”

Gentle. He could not risk a hint of anything hard making its way onto his voice.

“I'll have something prepared for you tomorrow.”

“Ugh. Sweetie, I am not eating meat with peas again. We're going to a restaurant. It really is time you eat like an adult sometimes.”

He wanted to ask what exactly she meant by that but knew that doing so would only bring trouble.

“Alright sure. There are three places I like so-“

“I said like an adult. I'll pick the restaurant. There is this one near the house that I've been meaning to try.”

“What's it called?

He was already opening up a new tab on his computer to look up this restaurant, wanting to have a good look at the menu beforehand.

“I'll tell you where it is, when you come pick me up.”

“Fuck…” he muttered under his breath before he could stop himself and immediately regretted it.

“What was that? Are you mumbling to yourself? What did you say? Are you giving me lip right after I give you a chance for me to forgive you?!

He felt himself deflate as he listened to the ranting on the other line. Dammit. While he listened he turned off the tv and began to pack his things to go home. He wouldn't be getting any more work done now.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She bonked her head against the wall. Leaning against it with all the weight of her misery. She had forgotten, she always did, and yet it felt worse every time. Robin groaned. No wonder her hair felt wrong. She had left her cornrows for an entire week too long. Sam having been the only one to have made note of it. Perhaps it had been her own dread that had led her to subconsciously procrastinate the hair appointment; those were the bane of her existence. She should just do what Sam did and cut it all as short as possible, but she knows she would cry at the mirror if she did that.

She removed her face from the wall. It was embarrassing to be moping like this out in the open. She wished they would have at least let her wait inside the hair salon, but she couldn't complain given that the stylist still chose to do her hair after she arrived twenty minutes late and let the next person take her spot, this was more of a time out than anything.

It didn't help that it was an absolutely miserable day. It wasn't raining but it could at any minute, the gray clouds overhead making their presence known citywide. It was just cold enough to be uncomfortable, and she had naturally overestimated her tolerance and had brought only a thin jacket. She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms, phone too low on battery for her to mindlessly scroll her time away.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------—

He was not faring much better, fighting for his life to not cave and order something from the children's menu out of pure desperation. The menu was an amalgamation of salads and pasta, and every time he found something that seemed fine, some ingredient showed up that made him shiver at the mere thought of it on his tongue. He measured how long he stared at each page after he read it, knowing that going through them too quickly or too slowly would earn him a comment from the woman sitting across from him. Who at the moment was rambling about her hair.

“It is only natural that hair begins to turn white mother, you shouldn't be this worried about it.”

“I know, but I don't want to look like an old lady, Alan. There is nothing more loathsome than white hairs on a woman.”

“And what about a man?”

“You know what I mean!”

He did not.

“I have white hair.” he uttered flatly. Her face did not change in the slightest at his words, but she did turn to look at him.

“You know I don't mean you baby. You are very handsome for having your condition.”

He only held in a breath and took the compliment as it was. Alan had never truly understood where he fell in the spectrum of physical appeal. Years ago, his coworkers had relentlessly mocked him when he revealed that the only reference he had at the time for his own appearance was his mother's opinion. And after, during his very short lived relationship, his girlfriend had only ever called him ���unique” or "interesting." He eventually concluded that he was most likely unattractive, as he had observed that those who were societally considered the most appealing lacked any sort of condition or physical defect. A state of being incompatible with his albinism.

Thankfully, today the weather was easy on him. It was dark enough outside that he could comfortably leave his shades in their case, saving himself a lecture from his mother about wearing them indoors. The restaurant they were in was only being lit by the large windows that took up the wall, leaving their table in relative darkness at the corner of the space.

His mother kept on talking about the hair salon that was on the other side of the street and how nice the hairdressers were until he finally decided to look over.

He did not recall standing up.

His mother was already frantic, asking him what was wrong and telling him to sit back down, his eyes were glued to the other side of the street, at the wall that was barely there before it turned into a corner, and the woman leaning against it. On their own accord, his legs began to move. He only managed to barely stop himself to let out a breathy, “I'll be back.”

Before he was rushing out of the restaurant, fumbling with his cap and sunglasses, barely putting them on before stumbling outside. Alan damn near forgot to look for a crosswalk and was almost about to beeline it across the street. The fact that the woman had already caught him staring right at her and looked back only delighted him further. It took him much longer than he would have liked to cross the street properly and jog his way up to her.

“You're Robin Ayou!”

He basically cornered her against the wall with his massive stature, quite a feat given that Robin was quite tall herself.

“Oh my goodness I saw your debut yesterday, I must say it was fascinating! I need to know what your thought process was during that first goal and how you measure your passes, because I've only ever seen a few players do anything like it. It is only a first impression for the PHF but I briefly looked at some of your games in the NCAA and I noticed that you have been-“

“Wow wow! Ok pretty boy slow down!”

“I-... What?”

The rambling was abruptly cut off, as his shoulders fell along with any sign of life he exhibited. It seemed that he nearly stopped breathing for a second. As for Robin. She stood there, mouth open and eyes wide.

“That… was supposed to be an inside observation.”

She freaked out when his face got redder than she'd ever seen on anyone before, almost making her ask if he was ok and if she needed to call an ambulance. But she guessed it was inevitable, because this guy was fucking pale. The very little skin she could see was nearly flat white with a fleshy pink undertone. Now that she thought of it, she doesn't know why she ever thought he was pretty if she could barely see him under his sunglasses and the Florida Stalkers cap.

“Listen, I'm not the weirdo in this situation!” She flusteredly pointed at him, and his dumbfounded expression quickly made its way into one of epiphany.

“Oh. I did not introduce myself.” He deflated as he spoke, stiffening his shoulder and lowering his head to look at the floor. “My name is Alan Silvester.”

She could have sworn she'd heard that name before but could not for the life of her remember where.

“Alright… you clearly know who I am. Big hockey fan? Must be if you've got me pinned after being in the PHF for a day.”

There was something. An ever so subtle tug at the corner of his lips that Robin wouldn't have noticed if she wasn't looking so intently.

“Absolutely,” he said somewhat breathlessly. Robin couldn't help but smirk coyly.

“So what, you want an autograph or something?” She was only half joking.

“Oh, no. I actually work as an independent ice hockey analyst and it would be incredible if I could get your direct input for my content.”

It took her a minute trying to figure out what “independent analyst” meant. She could only guess he was some kind of reporter.

“What like an interview?”

Alan lit up just a little.

“That is a good way to format it. I've never had the opportunity to interview a player before! If you could be in the video, that would be incredib-“

“ALAN!”

He was abruptly cut off by the voice of a woman screeching from further down the street. His panic returned stronger than ever and he turned to Robin, frantically pulling out a receipt from his pocket and writing down a couple of things on the back of it.

“This is my channel and my assistant's phone number.” He barely got her to take it from his hands before he was yanked by the arm, a shiver violently rushing through his body leaving him grimacing and struggling against the older woman that had come up to grab him.

“I am so sorry! He didn't mean to scare you. He won't bother you again I promise!”

They were already halfway across the street when he yelled, “Call my assistant if you're willing to do an interview, please!”

“Shut UP Alan!”

The two began arguing until they both returned to the inside of the restaurant they came from and Robin was left staring at her own reflection. She nearly dropped the paper in her astonishment. She looked down at it and saw a number and the name of the man that had just accosted her. The woman could not think of what to even do with herself at that moment, so with the only brain cell she had left, she took out her phone and called Cal.

“I am not getting you coffee. Do that yourself,” was the first sentence she was greeted with when he answered the call.

“Cal, some guy just recognized me in the middle of the street and begged me to do an interview with him.”

“Oh shit after only one game? Who the hell was it?”

“He said his name was Alan… uuuuuh Silvester?”

The pause that ensued was unbearably long, so much so that she had to wonder if her signal had gone bad.

“Robin what the fuck?”

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It took all of one afternoon for Robin to lose the receipt with the phone number. She had intended to keep it, and she swore up and down she had put it in her pocket, but that was not good enough, and when she looked through the pockets of her entire wardrobe trying to find it, and was unsuccessful. It left her horribly distracted during practice, along with the feeling of her newly fucked tooth which she would keep accidentally poaking her tongue against. Fortunately, if Robin had only one thing, it would be exceptional luck. It was five pm by the time she stepped out of the arena, barely tired from the day's training. Normally she would take this time to go on a complimentary run, but she had to meet someone.

The bus takes light years to get there. Her motorcycle was still at the repair shop, and she had already spent enough on ubers for one day by taking one to the arena that very morning. She goes through the gates of the apartment building, and gets on the elevator. Her and Cal had keys to each other's houses. It was often very convenient, as it allowed them to get stuff at any time.

Robin obliviously opened the door and was greeted with a sight she had never hoped to see.

It was Cal and who she could only assume was his brand new boyfriend of two weeks, up against a wall, one shirtless, making out in the middle of the living room.

“Oooh! Ew! What the shit?!”

She yelled in disgust. They stopped what they were doing, and Cal turned around hysterically.

“Robin! Get out!”

“You are disgusting! You literally invited me over, and this is what you're doing?!”

They yell back and forth, and the other man awkwardly finds his shirt not too far away on the couch and puts it on again. He stands there for about ten minutes until the other two have argued for long enough that they fell bitterly silent. He eventually builds up the courage to speak.

“You're… the hockey player, right?”

“And youre the guy whose fucking my friend I see,” she responded sharply, making Cal step in between them with the intention of defending the other man's honor.

“Don't be mean to him, it's not his fault.”

She laughed almost bitterly. “I can only guess whatever editorial you work for only hires people with no social awareness.”

Ryley slid his hand across his face, almost painfully so, before taking a step towards her. "Ok, bitch, I WISH it was a fucking editorial, I work for a youtuber.”

“Oh, my god, I would actually kill myself,” she said quickly, though her voice did not have a hint of sympathy. Cal once again interjected.

“Robin, your entire electricity bill is basically just youtube.”

“Yeah, and it's stupid. I thought you knew that.”

“Ugh, I wish my boss knew that. He is genuinely convinced he is a legit analyst. He takes it all super seriously,” Ryley huffed, hunching his back over in exhaustion at the mere mention of his work.

“I mean, sure he might… have a screw or two loose, but it just looks like he really cares.” Robin definitely didn't think the man seemed normal in any way, but she didn't detect anything malicious or really unforgivable about him.

“Oh he cares. He cares a lot. About every little thing. He only uses one specific brand and type of pen, and then writes his short notes in this one type of notebook and then writes his other notes in a different kind of notebook and he goes actual batshit if you don't bring him that. Like a third of the budget is only his supplies.”

“Oh yeah, that sounds insufferable,” she had to concede.

Ryley stepped forward, standing now in front of Robin. “Take it from me. Don't do it. He interviewed me when I applied for the job, and I've never been that uncomfortable in my life.”

Robin sighed and put her bag down on the floor by the door. She slumped over to the fridge, not bothering to ask for permission, and looked through it. Cal and her had completely opposite diets, meaning his fridge was always stocked with tasty food and drinks that a professional athlete should definitely not be consuming. Robin liked to make the excuse that because it wasn't her place or her money spent on the junk food then it didn't count. She took out a beer and made her way to look for a bottle opener.

“I mean sure this isn't as cool as being interviewed by like Sol Sports or whatever, but when am I going to get a chance to do this again?”

“You'll definitely be on youtube often if you keep falling over like that,” Cal chuckled. She did not find it funny and had no qualms about playing dirty.

“Shut your mouth or Imma tell him the thing.” She pointed at Ryley with her thumb.

Cal suddenly tensed up and whispered sharply: “You fucking wouldn't!”

“What thing?” Ryley asked, suddenly feeling stupid for not understanding whatever insider knowledge was being discussed. Robin only raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing! There is no thing to be talking about!” Cal hissed adamantly, and that was that. She finally got the beer open and chugged down. There was a hot minute of silence while she finished half the bottle.

“Listen“ -she burped. “How many subscribers does he have?”

“Gross. Last time I checked, about eight point fifty k.” Ryley quickly recounted.

“That's not that big.”

“It's been tanking quite a bit recently. He gets way more traction on his twitter.”

He approached to show her his phone and Robin took the opportunity to look up both the channel and the twitter account.

“Well now he's got eight k and one.” She tapped the subscribe button on the screen and soon after pressed follow on twitter.

“You're really doing this?” Cal wasn't surprised. Robin had always been somewhat of a diva, it didn't make him any less uneasy about the prospect.

“Fuck it. Why not? I get to look cool and professional, and he gets something to talk about. He's basically my number one fan. Come on.”

“He'd harass any player. You're not special,” Ryley dryly interjected, making Robin almost spike up like a cat in defensiveness.

“You don't know that!”

“Will your coach approve this?” Cal reminded her of her position in the metaphorical race. She winced at the mention of that woman.

“She's not the boss of me. I can do whatever I want.”

“Robin, she is quite literally the boss of you.”

“It'll be fine!” She looked over at Ryley with a smile. “Tell him I said yes. And that he's going to need to remind me cause I'm definitely going to forget.”

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

His videos made their way onto her feed a few times now, but she kept putting them on “Watch later," telling herself she'd get around to watching them eventually. Some of them were hours long, how was she supposed to sit through that? She still had a while until her next game, so she fell into the lul of training, running, coming home, making impulse purchases online, and sleeping.

She had given Ryley her phone number and he then gave it to Alan. He had a… unique way of texting, sending absurdly long, multi paragraph messages that Robin could only skim through. What she had managed to keep up with was his twitter. He was really active. Talking with everyone who commented about the latest game, player, or strategy and would get into heated arguments with anyone who disagreed with him. Though he never seemed to do what you'd normally do on twitter and just insult them and have that be it. No, he would genuinely structure arguments, cite sources, and go on multi tweet rants, reaching the daily tweet limit constantly. She tried to find a picture of him or food or a tweet about the weather but every single thing he posted was dedicated to hockey through and through. It only took Robin a few minutes of scrolling to find a very common response;

“Bro is acoustic.”

Usually along with some meme. It triggered something sour in her mouth. She almost responded many times that it was wrong to assume things like that of people. That it wasn't some joke. But she knew she'd only look like a killjoy and might get some flack for it if she did. She thought, sure, he cared about this game a lot, it didn't mean there was anything…. wrong, with him. She could only think of how she would feel if people talked like that about her. If they joked about her being… deficient. She would distract herself quickly with internet brainrot before she got too caught up in that thought, lest she start drowning in memories of middle school again.

What mattered is she had a date, well it was technically a business meeting but she used that word to mess with her mom when she had to turn her down for dinner that day. Alan had scheduled it at a rather cheap restaurant, which she was happy about. She fucked up and showed up a whole thirty minutes early just to prevent being late, so she was walking in circles around the block, looking through her friends instagram stories as she went. Quickly going past one of Sam going out with her coach, ugh. She was on her ninth lap when she spotted an uproariously tall man with a jacket, sun shades, and a cap, this time with a Reapers logo on it. She only knew it was him by intuition before she waved at him as he walked over.

They only exchanged minor pleasantries before they made their way inside. By the time they had taken their seat at the table they were already approached by a waiter who clearly recognized him. He said that he would like some before ordering this time and the waiter left them alone. Robin could only smile amusedly.

“Come here often?”

He jumped a little, as if he wasn't expecting her to speak.

“Once a week. I am sorry. I chose this place because it is one I'm familiar with. I don't do well eating in new places. I know this is no place to bring a pretty lady.”

Robin briefly choked on her water, her expression hiding nothing. His deadpan face only made the ordeal stranger.

“What? I thought it was fair after “pretty boy."“

“I… thought you would forget that.”

“Miss Ayou, come on. I am autistic, not stupid.

The atmosphere dropped immediately. Her flustered expression quickly changed into one of deep discomfort. It took her a minute to figure out what to say next.

“Don't... don't say that about yourself.”

“It's true. Most people who are familiar with me have already figured it out. What's that stupid word they use on the internet for it now? Acoustic? I have no idea what the joke is supposed to be.”

Despite everything, he appeared as relaxed as ever. It only made her tense up more.

“It's not funny.”

“No, it is not. But when is X ever truly funny?”

“There is nothing wrong with you.”

She insisted, leaning towards him. His relaxed expression fell away, replaced with guarded confusion as he finally took his shades off. His pale eyes looked at her with hesitant intensity.

“I never said there was anything wrong with me.”

Robin was slightly taken aback, some words she didn't know stuck in her throat. They stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity.

“I have made you uncomfortable.”

His sorry tone got the blood pumping back in her veins.

“No no no! You didn't! Ah, I'm just stupid, don't mind me. Heh…”

“You're not stupid.”

She smirked in a way that was weirdly tense but frighteningly natural for her. “Oh you don't know me. I'm a mess!”

She detected a hint of that smile again. At that moment he put away his sunglasses and took his cap off. Robin was a little shocked when seeing him. White down to his eyelashes. She was only mildly disturbed out of unfamiliarity and concern but at no point did she think the title of “pretty boy” was any less accurate.

“Well, messy maybe. I can't quite deny that after seeing you trip over yourself the way you did in that game.”

She sunk back in shame, covering her face with her hands. “Ugh! Don't remind me.”

“Are you alright by the way? You clearly hurt yourself.”

She looked at him in horror. “You could tell?”

“Apparently only me. I am sorry, the staff at your game didn't do a very good job at taking care of you.”

“They're not there to take care of us.”

“Yes they are. And so should you.”

She sighed. Just when she thought she'd met someone who wouldn't lecture her. “Ok, you're right.”

“You didn't answer me.”

“Answer what?”

“Are you alright?”

“Oh yes! I'm fine now, don't worry. Also…” She turned meek, playing with a coil of her hair now only in a ponytail.

“Hm?”

“Maybe, don't mention that in the video?”

“I can't make any promises. I aim for accuracy and transparency. Actually that is why I wanted to meet with you. I have written down the interview questions and wanted to give them to you before the day of recording,” he said, pulling out a piece of paper and handing it to her. She looked at it briefly, only noting the first three questions before folding it up and putting it in her pocket.

“Wouldn't you want to ask me those, you know, on the interview?”

“I am not very well versed at interviewing people. So I decided to give you a heads up. I want you to go through them carefully and come up with the best, most detailed responses possible. And I wanted to discuss them all with you in case you took issue with any of them.”

She stared a bit dumbfounded before chuckling. “Well you sure are prepared.”

He straightened his jacket. “I am.”

She liked that.

“Sure, we'll talk about them in a minute. My friend told me that you used to be a commentator?”

“Oh yeah. Four years ago.”

Robin did some quick math and took a good look at his face.

“How old are you?”

“Thirty years old.”

“Oh shit!” she let out without meaning to. Her face went hot at the information, suddenly making her feel a little shy in front of him.

“Is something wrong?”

“No! Nothing! That's great!”

“Really? That's a… pretty neutral piece of information.”

She laughed nervously. Fuck, she really was no better than her sister. “You just don't… look thirty.”

He suddenly snorted. Flushing red like crazy himself. She almost got scared again.

“I don't go out in the sun very often, so that might be it?”

“Oh yeah, I didn't want to say anything about it, but you're the single whitest person I've ever seen.”

“Albino. I mean, I am ethnically considered white as well. But my appearance is mostly the result of being an albino.”

“Oh like a Biter.”

Whatever smile there was dropped and he looked at her bewildered. It took Robin a second to realize that was a weird as fuck thing to say and she hurried to explain herself. “I- I mean… Agh! Sorry, I just thought of albino Biter fish and, oh nevermind, forget it, I'm sorry.”

“I didn't know fish could have albinism.”He couldn't help staring when her face lit up in delight. She excitedly pulled out her phone and began typing.

“Oh it's super cool! Look!”She pushed the phone to his face. It showed an image of a small, yellowish wrinkly animal with disturbing white eyes, two on each side.

“That is one strange looking…thing.”

“Well it's technically called a Blighter not a Biter. They’re slower than Biters and often get rejected from packs so they hunt alone.”

“They're really odd looking.”

“Oh you haven't seen shit. Wait a second.” She typed something again and happily pulled up the image.

“Oh, what the fuck is that?”

The image showed a massive creature, with four huge eyes, attached to a bulbous body stuck inside some sort of translucent jell sack, lord knows how many spindly legs and thousand yard stare.

“That's a crab squid! They're super hard to study because they can produce electromagnetic waves that temporarily shut down submarines.”

“Well I certainly wouldn't want to find that while swimming in the ocean.”

“Oh they can be aggressive. Lowkey filled with hatred. But I would give anything to dive with one of these.”

“Do you just like getting hurt?”

“I would be careful! I wouldn't want to scare it!”

“Well I'm a little scared of you right now.”

“Well how do you think I felt when you ran at me out of nowhere in the street after gawking at me like a lunatic?”

He tapped his fingers on the table. “Alright that is fair.”

She laughed and they finally ordered: he just said “the usual”. Meanwhile she had visions of coach Maida yelling at her about nutrition and ordered a salad. It had chicken at least. She suggested they share the cheapest wine bottle on the menu but he said he had to drive, and she couldn't convince him. After a few seconds of silence and eating, Robin proposed something.

“You know? I'm gonna try to get you tickets to my next game, get you the best look at the action.”

“Oh no, do not bother, I don't go to games.”

“What?! But you have to!”

“I don't like it.”

“Why the hell not?!”

“It's too loud, there are too many people, it's too bright and a myriad of other things. I tried it once when I was a kid and had a meltdown.”

He didn't catch on to how sad for him she felt in that moment.

“Im so sorry…”

“Don't be. If anything you should be sorry for my poor mother who worked extremely hard to obtain tickets and had to deal with me and leave early because I couldn't handle it.” He looked oddly neutral while he recounted the story. Not sad, but not warm either. His eyes looked dead as he stared down at his food. An omelette. It was awkward between them for a moment, before Robin took a long sip of her drink.

“So you've liked hockey since you were little?”

A certain liveliness came to his face. Not an expression, his features (as they had for most of the night) remained generally unmoving. It was something else. An unimaginably subtle opening of his eyelids and a straightening of his eyebrows.

“Yes, since I was nine.”

“How'd it start?”

"Well, it was one of the only sports I could play.”

“You played?!” She leaned back, entertained by the prospect.

“Only until I was eleven. The equipment got far too expensive. I don't miss it all that much to be honest.”

“Oh that sucks. But why could you only play that?”

“My school did a lot of extracurricular activities, that included multiple sports, but most of them were outdoors. I could not be outside the way the other kids could, so I played inside.”

“And you just got hooked on it.”

“I took it significantly more seriously than anyone on my team did. I always tried to strategize and play based on research, but unfortunately that is not a substitute for raw athleticism.”

“But you're huge! Like what? Two meters?”

“Two meters and ten centimeters, to be exact.”

“God, how do you even find pants?”

“It is, in fact, a nightmare, not to mention the right texture as well. But anyway, it is highly debated how much size matters in ice hockey, obviously it is an advantage, especially in defensive situations but there is more to the subject. There is a very interesting video about it, I'll send it to you. And also, I was actually very short when I was younger. The shortest one on my team.”

“Oh like a Gargantuan leviathan baby.”

“Are you always going to compare me to animals?”

“Hey, I'd take it as a compliment. Did you know adult Gargantuans are the biggest animals to have ever existed that we know about?”

“I don't know much about zoology, but surely there were prehistoric species that were larger.”

“Nope! The biggest animal they've found since was the Sea emperor. That one was only two hundred meters long. Unfortunately, that one just went extinct recently…”

He didn't know what to do when she suddenly looked genuinely sad. He resorted to changing the subject.

"Well, the tallest recorded player in the NHL was Zdeno Chára.”

“Who is that? I thought it was John Scott.”

He gripped his fork a little tighter.

“I am always shocked by how little players actually know about their own history.”

He was lucky she thought his grumpy attitude was cute.

“Sure, boss. How many players have you met?”

“I used to meet them a lot more when I was a commentator. I've met Danby Fidle, Jochi Khasar and David Hollister.”

“That sounds amazing. Why did you stop?”

He answered immediately, with a blistering honesty she almost felt assaulted by. His nearly imperceptible smile as if he were saying the most obvious thing in the world brought up a certain feeling in her chest. “Because like this I get to talk about things I truly find interesting. Like you.”

They never did get around to talking about those interview questions. She only said she would read them later.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A knock sounded at the door at the apartment. Six pm on a Friday.

“You better not be fucking in there or I'm gonna kill you.” Robin's voice was muffled by the door. The two men on the couch scrolling on their phones cringed at the comment.

“Alright. I'm coming in. One, two, three!” She opened the door and walked inside. When she saw the unimpressive scene before her, she was quick to throw her bag aside and stomp over to where they were. She stood tall by the couch in front of Ryley. He didn't look up at her until Cal nudged him.

“What?”

“What is wrong with you?!”

He squinted at her, expecting her to elaborate, which only made her more angry.

“Why would you talk about him like that?”

“How did you find that? Listen, I said what I said. Milei is a leech on the country, I don't care how progressive he is, the chainsaw shit was pathetic.”

“Ah- What? No! You idiot! I'm talking about Alan!”

“Oh, my god. Don't tell me youre on his side.”

Calvin gave a tired expression and sighed. “Please don't start fighting.”

To no avail.

“He's a sweetheart!”

“He's neurotic!”

“And so what?! He likes stuff a certain way. What's wrong with that?!”

“You don't know him like I do!”

“Oh really? What's his favorite color?”

“Oh my god, I hate you both.” Cal would have put on headphones if he could, but he contented himself with going back to looking through emails on his phone.

“Why the fuck would I know that?!”

“Well it's green, so checkmate!” She walked away, over to the counter where she saw the hair ties she had left last time she was there.

“That is not a checkmate!” Ryley burst out, looking at Cal for support, but he refused to look away from his phone. Making it clear that he was tuning them both out.

“He's so nice and patient. I said a ton of stupid stuff when I was out with him and he didn't get mad once.”

“Well just you wait until he complains about the smell of your deodorant and makes you change it.”

“Well if he asked me to, I just might!”

“Listen whatever! He said he would give you the interview questions. Do you have them?”

“Yeah! Right he-“ She reached into her pocket. Then stopped. She looked again. Deeper this time. Then at the other pocket. Then at her left pant pocket, then the right one. After a second she went over to her bag.

“I have them.”

Ryleys jaw dropped. “No… YOU LOST THEM?!”

“No no I didn't, just give me a SECOND!”

Cal finally zoned back in and stared at her with knowing concern. Ryley was already sweating.

“He's gonna kill us…” Ryley murmured almost inaudibly. Robin winced and grunted, kicking her bag and standing up to pace around the room. “God fucking dammit. I had them…”

She stopped dead in her tracks and massaged her temples. “Ok. Ok ok ok ok ok. Cool. Cool cool cool cool cool. It's fine. It's fine! This is an interview. It's about me! I know me! He'll ask me about how I started playing and what my training routine is, stuff like that.”

“He won't! That's what a normal person would ask!”

She fumed. “Hey! He is perfectly normal!”

“Yeah! So is the current state of Buenos Aires!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?!”

“You know what? This is not my fault. He said he wanted to give them to you himself. This is beyond my job description.” he said as he took deep breaths. Robin on the other hand was chewing her nails, going back to pacing. Cal let out a deep sigh and finally spoke.

“Just ask him for the questions again. You have his number.”

“What?! No! I don't want him to think I'm an idiot! Or that I don't care!”

Ryley was annoyingly quick to add; “Well if he's so nice and patient, then surely he won't.” The sarcasm in his voice made her blood boil. She couldn't decide if she wanted to kill herself or him. She looked over at Cal. “Why are you dating him again?”

“Why do you care so much about what some youtuber thinks?”

She pouted and he just raised an eyebrow at her. The stare off lasted for a few seconds before she gave up.

“You know what? It will be fine. I'm good at talking. I've always been best when I improvise. Having all the questions laid out would have probably only made me overthink it.”

“Sure. This is your problem. I'm going to the bathroom.” Ryley left the living room and Cal finally stood up and walked over to Robin. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Robin, just ask him. I know it might suck but you'll regret it if you don't.”

“Hey hey don't worry. I can handle an interview.”

“Why are you so scared of him judging you?”

“I…” She realized at that moment that she didn't have an answer. She bit her lip for a moment, before getting a determined twinkle in her eye.

“I'm done looking stupid in front of people.”

“Who cares what they think?”

She took him by the shoulders, leaning down to his level and shaking him slightly. “You wouldn't get it because no one thinks you're an idiot. You remember how it was in school. I'd ask a teacher to repeat what they said and they'd yell at me. The coach thinks the same.”

Her face tightened, and she took a shaky breath. “This guy respects me. For once someone doesn't see me as a complete disaster. And I don't want to ruin that.”

He looked her in the eye and squeezed her shoulder. “I respect you.”

There was a sour look in Robin's eyes. Almost making the man think she might doubt his words. He wanted to reassure her, but she interrupted too quickly for him to do so:. “Ugh I know. But you know me too well.”

She smiled dolefully. It only made him more uneasy.

“And what happens when he gets to know you too?”

In that moment, the heavy expression faded away. As if dissolved in water, almost instantly. And it was jarringly replaced with a manufactured confidence. A nonchalance that glowed in her features as she slightly tilted her head.

“He won't.” She took a deep breath and straightened herself up. His hand falling away. Her smile was bright and her head was held high.

“He wanted Robin the hockey star. And that's exactly who he'll get!”

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She debated on how much makeup she should have on, or if any at all. She opted for a light look. Covering up some bruises and scratches. Checking herself over and over in nearby car windows and storefronts, she had made her way to the location Ryley had given her. It was quite a boring small building, but to be fair she was still surprised that he had an office at all. Expecting a youtuber to run their entire operation from their bedroom. It had only been a few days since their little dinner meeting and during that time Robin had made the attempt to text him more. It was during those text conversations where she had finally truly realized.

It was really hard to talk to him about anything other than ice hockey.

She guessed at first that he was maybe just being professional. But then again she didn’t know what strategies of games from 1967 or the individual weights of other players had to do with their arrangement. She suddenly had to wonder, did he… have anyone to hear him talk about this endlessly? At no point did he mention any friends. Making Robin feel oddly protective of the man, letting him ramble to his heart's content and doing her absolute best to keep track of as much of it as she could. Ryley's incessant comments made that protective instinct even stronger. To the point where she was determined to not only steamroll this interview, but to have a great time with her new buddy doing it.

She arrived soon enough and was let in by Ryley, who did little more than give her the side eye and point to where she needed to go. The office consisted of four rooms that she didn't bother asking permission to look through. One was a small room with nothing but a desk and a television mounted to the wall, it looked vaguely creepy if you asked her. There was Ryley small dedicated office, full of a variety of labeled boxes that she couldn't quite believe were his doing. A storage closet that had been made into a makeshift audio recording booth, and finally the recording studio. It was a somewhat small room with a large whiteboard. Opposite to it, she could spot a mounted camera and what looked like a projector. Robin remembered a few of the videos' thumbnails, where he would draw complicated diagrams over the projection of a frame of the game, she thought it was fairly clever.

It was in that room where she found him. Scribbling on a pristine looking notebook on a table that was set off to the side. He didn't notice her immediately, but was most likely startled when he did. Most likely because Robin wasn't entirely sure given that he only tensed up and threw up his eyebrows slightly.

“Mis Ayou.”

She smiled, tilting her head. “Need help with anything?” She approached and saw him put his notebook down on a chair and hold his pen a little tighter.

“You arrived twenty minutes earlier than the appointed time. I am not ready to receive you.”

Robin looked at her phone. He was right. She did it on purpose. She knew that if she didn't get there as early as possible, she would inevitably end up late.

“It's fine. I can help set things up. I don't mind.”

“You should have come when we agreed to, please do that next time we have an arrangement.”

Robin took a step back suddenly feeling a little uneasy in the room.

“Are you mad at me?” She sounded incredulous.

“Upset, yes”

“Oh.” She shrunk back. Fidgeting with her hair, his face doesn't change as she asked herself, should he be at least a little happy to see her?

“Should I leave?”

“There would be no point to that now. If you are offering to assist, please move this table in front of the whiteboard.”

She swallowed uncomfortably. The shut blinds of the room made it seem smaller, making her feel somewhat trapped in. She did as he asked, and the table was quickly in place. He took little time taking a pair of chairs to stand behind it and began to fiddle with what she assumed was a pair of microphones. She sighed. “So… how have you been lately?”

“Stressed beyond belief. I have been receiving calls from debt collectors for a specific debt that has been sold and purchased at least four times by different companies. All of them have tried to bait me into paying it without sending verification that it is even mine. I've been disputing it for months and I know it isn't mine, for which I am not worried about payment but it is a hassle.”

She barked out a laugh so loud she thought the lower floor might have been able to hear it. Alan only stared at her, even seeming startled.

“What is it?”

She chuckled a little more. “Nothing, nothing. It's just you're the only person I've met that answers that question that honestly.”

“I… am sorry? Have I bothered you?”

“No no, I like that about you.”

He looked away from her and back to the microphones, finally setting them up each at either side of the table. “The exact value of honesty is difficult to quantify.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have been told countless times that honesty is a desirable trait. But it's entirely circumstantial in a way that seemingly can't be telegraphed.”

She approached him again, feeling lighter this time. "Yeah, it's one of those things you're just supposed to know somehow. I can see how that can get pretty annoying.”

“I do appreciate you tolerating that fact about me.”

She rolled her eyes and smirked. “I don't tolerate you. I like you.”

He was quiet for an uncomfortable amount of time, leaving Robin to wonder if what she said was out of line.

“Thank you” he mumbled just high enough for her to hear, she couldn't help but smile wider as she looked at their setup. She walked around the room slowly, carefully eyeing the camera. She saw at the corner of her eye that Alan was already back to looking over his notebook. She got closer again and reached out to his hand carefully.

“Yo, pass me that pen, check this out.”

He hesitantly passed the pen over to her, letting out a quick “Be careful with it”. Robin weighed slightly in her palm before moving it up to her fingers and spinning it multiple times in different directions before rolling it back and forth between each finger before finally spinning it quickly over her thumb.

Alan threw up his eyebrows slightly, a small sign that made Robin feel more excited than she probably should. She continued spinning the pen in every way he knew and watched him stare at her hand with nearly mesmerized focus.

“That is quite impressive. How did you learn to do that?”

“Well it's better than chewing on it.”

His eyebrows came down again. “Do not chew on my stationary.”

She laughed. She continued doing tricks for him until a voice came in from the entrance to the room.

“Alright you two, it's time to start setting up and get recording.” Ryley could not have sounded less enthusiastic if he tried. Alan quickly took the pen from her and set it down on the right seat of the desk, where she guessed he would be sitting. She went over and sat down on the left side and waited for further instructions. Soon enough, the mics were turned on and Alan tapped on his a few times.

“Testing. Is the audio recording correctly?”

Robin couldn't help but chuckle. He looked over at her confused, the complete stillness of his face somehow communicated his perplexity in such a perfect way that it made her stifle another laugh.

“Is something funny?” He sounded so neutral about it that Robin didn't feel bad.

“Its really nothing, its just that I just now noticed how old you sound.”

Ryley was actually able to stifle his laughter, and set himself to face down at the floor. Alan should have been at least a little frustrated, but he found the sound of her laughter too pleasant to be bothered.

“It's just, you're thirty, look twenty-five and sound like sixty-seven.”

“And is that amusing?” he asked her simply. It's actually kind of hot. She thought to herself but obviously had no intention to say that.

“Just interesting. Like the rest of you.”

That tiny hint of a smile made its way onto his face again. Robin would have visibly celebrated if she wasn't being watched.

“Mis Ayou, I think it's important to remember that I'm the one interviewing you.”

“I really think it's time you start calling me Robin.”

“You did not ask before referring to me by my first name.”

“Was I wrong to do that?”

“No. The informality is pleasant. I'm glad you feel relaxed. Robin.”

Ryley was two seconds away from killing himself. “Hey! Yeah, I have lunch after this.”

The other two tensed up and she quickly looked away from Alan, she didn't know if his gaze remained on her.

Any remaining preparations were minimal. Robin had already imagined nearly every possible scenario of how this could go and at worst he would ask her an invasive personal question, and she would joke it off and make it seem like it's nothing. Like she said: she was best when she improvised. In what seemed like no time at all the camera was rolling, and she was keenly aware of how Ryley was intensely leering at her as Alan finally began.

“Hello everyone. Like I promised. I have a special video. Today I get to interview the debuting player of the Trivalves, Robin Ayou.”

She had expected a much livelier introduction from a youtuber but he had never seemed like the type. Robin was under the impression that he would put on some sort of persona for his videos but just by that one bit, she figured that was not the case. Wanting to lighten things up she waved at the camera.

“Hi. It's so cool to be here. Thank you so much for inviting me on.”

“Let's get to the questions.” He nearly cut her off. Robin had been prepared for a few minutes of on screen pleasantries and banter, just like how they had on their dinner. She had seen enough shows to have thought that interviews were supposed to be fun. She took a second to straighten herself up and take a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

Alan wasn't looking at the camera or at her, face firmly fixed on his notebook where she could see neatly organized rows of text that she couldn't quite read.

“Do you believe you have improved since your days in the NCAA?”

Wow.

Her mouth nearly fell open and her eyes widened ever so slightly. She wasn't really sure why. Maybe she was so certain that the first question would have been; How did you start playing? that anything else would have caused her to short circuit. Still, she was quick to come up with an answer.

“Well, it would be pretty bad if I hadn’t. Of course I've gotten a lot better since I competed in college.”

At that moment Alan finally looked at her. For some reason, it was unnerving.

“Elaborate.”

She fought not to swallow her saliva. This time it took her a bit longer to come up with something to say in response. “I’ve gotten a lot faster. I was still kind of a newbie in Uni. Compared to most of my teammates, I had only played since later in high school. The others had been since they were little. But here I am anyway. I think that just goes to show that it's never too late to start, you know?”

Bingo. An answer, a little backstory, something inspirational to cap it off. She's got this in the bag.

“And?” Alan's eyes were back on the notebook. His voice was unreadable as he flipped a page.

“A-and?” she questioned in a higher pitch than she would have liked.

“You have increased your movement speed. What else?”

“Well I clearly score a lot more than I used to.”

“With only one game, it is hard to test how consistently you can do that.”

“Well you could say that about anything when I play. Why ask at all then?”

The slight crinkling of paper under his thumb could be heard over a sudden deafening silence that lasted only a few seconds that stretched on for a while.

“Alright. Next question.”

“Y-yeah sure.”

She looked over at Ryley who at this point had turned his attention to his phone. She could see him holding back a giggle, clearly looking at something he found far more entertaining than this.

“What do you do to distinguish yourself from the average player?”

That question suddenly reminded her of the horrible job interviews she had at the beginning of high school. She took a second to put herself in that mindset again. Maybe that would flow more smoothly.

“Well, I am very direct and quite ruthless when playing. I go straight for the shot and don't hesitate when I see an opening.”

“Similarly to Hua Yu. Though not quite comparable.”

What was that supposed to mean?

“I don't think I'm particularly similar to anyone right now when I play.”

He had basically implied that before, right? He said she was truly interesting. Fascinating even. He meant it, right? That hadn't been just sucking up to her to get her to agree to be on here with him… right?

“I agree. You are uniquely rough while playing.”

“Rough good or rough bad?” She almost put her hand over her mouth. She hadn't meant to ask that out loud. It made her sound pathetic.

“Rough is a morally neutral descriptor.”

“Uh- I don't mean like tha- nevermind. Umm, but yeah, I'm quite big for a woman and I use that to my advantage.”

“Alright. Next question.”

She kept trying to find his eyes, to find some type of understanding, but his gaze would simply not connect with her, it was at that moment that she realized that the entire time they had known each other, he had not looked her directly in the eye once. She didn't know why. And suddenly, it made her incredibly nervous.

“Why were you allowed into the Trivalves?”

She blinked a couple of times. “W-why wouldn't I be? I was drafted.”

“Were you given any specific reason?”

Suddenly, a cold shiver ran up her spine. It brought her back to a few days ago, to the words Cal had said to her.

I'm at least seventy percent sure that she only let you into the team because of Sam.

It had her digging her nails into her thigh.

“It's very simple actually. I was good and they saw that.”

“Many university players are good.”

Her breath hitched a little. She could swear a drop of sweat was running down her neck and her foot was tapping nervously on the ground under the table.

“Well I'm great then.” she nearly scowled, having to remind herself that she was on camera. Ryley had suddenly directed his attention back at them and was looking at Robin with a strong sense of dread, realizing the furrowing of his brow and the tensing of his shoulders. Alan, as always, remained unreadable save for the very subtle way that he had caused the ink on the page to slip from the pressure he was putting on it.

“Do you truly believe that?”

“Yes. Why wouldn't I believe that?”

He was quiet. Something that was starting to infuriate her. The pause had lasted long enough that Ryley was gesturing from his place to try to get them to move on and only after Alan caught sight of it did he give any sign of life.

“How do you justify your excessive clumsiness while playing?”

Oh.

Oh.

Is that how it fucking is?

“And tell me, why would you say something so stupid?”

Finally she saw a reaction, like she wanted. He put the notebook down on the table. His eyebrows raised ever so slightly.

“You continuously injure yourself, either crashing or falling over.”

For the first time Alan looked at the camera. Ryley was nearly biting his nails when he did so. He tried to shrug as if to communicate that he had no idea of how to fix the situation.

“Well I don't see any more “graceful” players single handedly scoring three goals against the top women's team right now, so what about that?”

“That… is unrelated to the question.”

“Well move on to another question. I’m not fucking answering that.”

Robin was many things. But a pussy was never one of them. And she wasn't about to get bullied by some wannabe reporter. She looked fiercely at Alan who seemed to only take interest in her tapping foot.

[ermesskiss]

IMPORTANT - please reblog

The U.S. senate is conducting an outreach survey about pressing issues including ceasefire in gaza and funding for 🇮🇱

Please take time to fill out the survey and spread especially if you’re living in the U.S.

note: (what is above was copied and pasted from this twt post)

something else, these questions are set up to be intentionally bias (you can see in the photo above) so please answer thoroughly and correctly!!

i don't trust the U.S government but taking this survey will give Congress an insight on peoples views on these events. As long as people are choosing the options that are opposed of being pro-Israel or bigoted i think it'll be fine (in theory)

here are two questions that are very misleading

as you can see they are trying to paint china's government and immigrants in a bad picture, hopefully anyone who is reading this understands that

1) the U.S government is using China's government in a way to look like they steal Americans information but in reality they don't care about our privacy. if they did, Mark Zuckerberg (owner of Facebook) wouldn't have several cases of taking peoples data and selling it

also that banning TikTok is not because of peoples information, it's about the fact that U.S citizens have an easier access to learn things that the Government doesn't want them to know and spread (e.g. Israel colonizing and commiting genocide on the people of Palestine) there is even a video of a government official talking about this (if I can find it I'll come back and link it here)

2) calling immigrants violent (probably referring to middle eastern ppl and muslims) is a way to convince people to deport them, obviously being xenophobic, and other stuff

if you can understand that these questions are bigoted and quite loaded it should be easy to understand which option is morally right.

at the end of the survey they will ask you what topics you care about and what Congress should focus on. don't leave it empty.

say something like:

• call for a permanent cease-fire in Gaza

• stop the funding of the illegal occupation of Israel

• hold big tech American companies accountable for using unethical Congon cobalt to make electronic devices

• literally anything important

putting one of these in the box before submitting will highlight that people want the government to call for a permanent cease fire and to stop funding Israel and etc.

sorry, this was a lot, I didn't plan to write this much out but I thought it was important to add additional information to inform people about the situation. hopefully this made sense!!!

[fortheturnstiles]

found one very grainy photo of what looks to be marlboro reds or lights/ultra lights

and heres the newspaper spread from 2008 (sorry to send these as asks!!) with a possible pack on the table next to the scrabble board

hello delightful soul thank you for finding these for me... apologies for the very untimely reply i sometimes forget my inbox exists. but i wanted to open these even if i am a month late to show my appreciation for your research. very insightful work youve done here. that box in the first photo definitely looks like marbs based on the shape of the text... even tho its grainy the top looks like it's red so i think reds is a pretty good guess... he kinda does strike me as a lights style smoker though not sure why.. just vibes i was reminded of seeing these when you sent them a month ago and promptly forgot about them when i was watching an interview last night with sm on office hours live i believe.. he's wearing a marlboro baseball cap and makes some comment about american spirits being "in his demographic" and then a story about how a buddy of his who is a pro cyclist or something trying to get a sponsorship from american spirits which obviously didnt work out lol. but one can dream!

[stuarttechnologybob]

What are the pros and cons of ITIL and ServiceNow ITSM?

ServiceNow ITSM Implementation Services

ITIL is a widely and commonly accepted framework used for managing IT services and ServiceNow ITSM is a majorly leveraged platform that brings these best practices to life with its implementation. They help businesses to deliver more reliable, efficient and user-focused IT support with its adaptation. However, like any system, there are benefits and challenges to consider.

Pros -

Organized IT Process:

ITIL assists and grants a clear structure for managing IT services, while ServiceNow ITSM aids the teams to follow a standard operating through structure with automated workflows. As the initiative assures that the frequency of consistency and lowered errors, makes the process easier to handle daily operations with its smooth implementations into the system.

Faster Response & Quick Resolution:

ServiceNow ITSM automates the tasks i.e. ticket creation, assignment, and status updates with its leveraging into the system. This speeds up how fast the IT teams and working professionals respond to raised concern and resolve the issue by improving the service quality of the deliverables.

Self-Service and User Empowerment:

As the users can access for help through self-service portals and knowledge bases without needing to contact IT teams directly or reach-out the assistance window. This lowers the number of support requests and gives users quicker solutions.

Performance Tracking and Insights:

With the assistance of real-time dashboards and data analytics reports, the IT managers and senior officials can monitor their activity and, track the service trends, and identify areas for improvement. This data-driven approach leads to better planning and resource management.

Alignment with Industry Standards:

ServiceNow ITSM supports ITIL out of the box ideas as it assure businesses can easily adopt and get globally recognized with the standard practices that are set as per business standards. This all improves the compliance process and service for overall consistency across the working professionals.

Cons -

Complex Implementation:

Setting up ITIL processes and systems on ServiceNow requires proper planning and technical knowledge without it may get stuck up or entitled up and leads towards a system mess. Without prior guidance or experience, implementation can become a massive crushing stone for the organization.

High Costs:

Sometimes, the licensing fees and setup costs with customizations can be expensive or costly, especially for small or mid-sized companies and organizations. With the constant ongoing support and training add a loop or hole to the investment of the business and set up as a major drawback for the company..

User Adoption Challenges:

Switching between multiple or into a new system may face resistance from employees who are used to older methods. At the same time, the improper onboarding session and training might seem essential for a smooth transition but might get tangled up.

ServiceNow ITSM boosts IT efficiency, streamlines processes, and increases service delivery. With expert guidance from providers like Suma Soft, INRY, Fidel Technologies, and Glidefast, businesses can maximize their benefits while overcoming challenges.

[aghost-writer]

Sugar

Chapter 11

This is a Yandere BNHA Pro Heroes x Reader Fic!

MDNI!!

Y/N walked alongside Endeavor as they exited the VIP box, her demeanor calm and poised despite the firestorm of thoughts racing in her mind. Enji had been upfront, as expected, but his dominant, transactional approach grated on her nerves. Still, it was worth enduring—if it meant gaining insight into Dabi.

As they reached the hallway, Endeavor stopped, glancing down at her. “I’ll have someone send you home.”

She offered a charming smile, her hand lightly brushing his arm. “That won’t be necessary, Enji. I can take care of myself.”

His brows furrowed briefly, but he nodded. “Fine. Don’t forget what I said. Next week.”

“Of course,” she replied smoothly. “I’ll be waiting for your message.”

He turned without another word, his imposing figure retreating down the corridor. Once he was out of sight, Y/N allowed her polished smile to drop. She inhaled deeply, straightened her shoulders, and reached for her phone.

It was time to do damage control. ｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:

Y/N paced her lavish living room, the heels of her shoes clicking against the polished floor. She had sent Toshi three messages already, carefully crafted to sound apologetic yet nonchalant.

“Toshi, I missed seeing you today. Are you still at the festival?”

No response.

She bit her lip, glancing at the time. He wasn’t usually one to leave her hanging like this. Even if he was busy, he’d typically reply with a quick reassurance.

“I hope I didn’t upset you. Let me know when you’re free. I’d love to see you soon.”

Still nothing.

The third message was more direct:

“Are you okay? I’m getting worried. Please talk to me.”

She sighed, tossing her phone onto the couch. It wasn’t like Toshi to ignore her completely. But then again… he had seen her with Enji.

She wasn’t breaking any of the app’s rules. Lovesick allowed sugar babies to have multiple arrangements, provided everything was consensual. But Toshi—sweet, thoughtful Toshi—was different. His attachment to her was more personal, more tender.

Her phone remained silent, mocking her.

Y/N poured herself a glass of wine, staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows of her penthouse. The city lights twinkled below, but her focus was elsewhere. She replayed the moment in her mind: Toshi’s face when he saw her with Enji.

She hadn’t meant for him to see. She’d been discreet—at least, she thought she had. But the look in his eyes had been unmistakable.

Disappointment.

Guilt gnawed at her. Not because she’d done anything wrong—she was playing by the rules—but because she hadn’t anticipated how much seeing her with someone else might hurt him.

As the evening stretched on, Y/N finally gave up on receiving a reply. She curled up on the couch, clutching her phone like a lifeline.

Toshi… please don’t pull away from me, she thought.

But deep down, she knew this silence was different. For someone like Toshi, who valued trust and genuine connections, seeing her with Enji might have been more than he could handle. ｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:

The scent of freshly brewed coffee and high-end perfumes filled the air as Nemuri strolled through the busy shopping district. The stores around her were filled with the most extravagant items—gleaming jewelry, designer handbags, and elegant shoes—all calling out to her. She was on a mission today, her eyes scanning the displays with precision as she carefully selected a variety of luxurious gifts.

Yamada, who had joined her for the outing, was trailing a few steps behind, hands stuffed in his pockets. He glanced at the piles of bags in Nemuri’s arms, feeling a little out of place. He never understood how she could drop so much money without hesitation.

“Are you sure she’ll like all of this?” Yamada asked, raising an eyebrow as he tried to keep up with her pace. “I mean, that’s a lot of stuff for one person, don’t you think?”

Nemuri, who was practically bouncing with excitement, didn’t even glance back at him. “It’s perfect for her, Zashi. Trust me. I’ve been keeping an eye on what she likes—she’ll love these.” She paused to admire a sleek diamond necklace in a jewelry store window. “A little extra sparkle never hurt anyone.”

Yamada rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you’ve been ‘keeping an eye on her’ for weeks now. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were completely obsessed with her.”

Nemuri turned her head to grin at him mischievously. “Maybe I am,” she said lightly, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “But she’s worth it. She’s been so elusive, you know? I’m trying to win her over. She deserves the best.”

Yamada laughed under his breath. “You’re not the only one, you know. I’ve been doing a little shopping myself.” His eyes glinted with amusement. “A few little things here and there—nothing like your haul—but I think she’ll appreciate the effort.”

“Hmm…” Nemuri mused, her eyes flicking over to his less extravagant purchases, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “That’s cute, Zashi. But we both know I’ll win her over with these.” She lifted the stack of gifts higher in her arms, causing several gift bags to sway precariously.

Yamada snorted and shook his head. “If you say so, Nemuri. But don’t get too cocky. I know how to treat someone right too.”

“Right,” Nemuri chuckled, nudging him playfully. “If you say so.”

As they continued to shop, their conversation drifted into lighter topics. Yet, both were wrapped up in the same idea—trying to win over Y/N. They were doing their best to outdo each other in what they considered thoughtful gestures, not realizing that their target was the same person. Neither of them had a clue that they were both, in their own ways, vying for the attention of the same sugar.

After a few more stops, Nemuri’s arms were nearly full, and Yamada had to admit, she had outdone him. He gave her a half-joking glare as they walked toward the checkout.

“Alright, alright, I’ll admit defeat,” Yamada grumbled. “You’ve got this one.”

“Of course,” Nemuri said with a wink, taking her bag from the counter and adjusting her sunglasses. “But don’t worry, Zashi. You can still try again next time. Maybe I’ll let you help me pick out her next gift.”

Yamada let out a breath of frustration but smiled anyway. “We’ll see about that.”

They headed toward the exit, unaware that they were both wrapped up in the same game. As they walked out into the bustling street, Nemuri’s phone buzzed. She glanced down and saw a message from Y/N—a thank-you note for the recent gift she had sent.

“See?” Nemuri said, grinning at Yamada. “She loves it.”

Yamada’s eyes narrowed as he caught a glimpse of the message. “So, she’s really responding to you, huh?”

“Yeah, I’ve been sending her some cute things. You know, thoughtful gestures,” Nemuri said, oblivious to the fact that her competition was walking right beside her.

Yamada couldn’t help but look at the message a little longer, his mind swirling with the idea of trying to compete more aggressively now. He knew Y/N was different—she was elusive, hard to read—but that made her even more enticing.

He just didn’t know yet that Nemuri was competing for the same prize. ｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:

Y/N followed Yamada through the sprawling halls of his radio station, the atmosphere charged with an energy that felt as vibrant as the music itself. The walls were lined with posters of past albums, radio milestones, and photos of the famous personalities who had graced the station’s airwaves. The sound of light chatter and the occasional hum of a DJ mixing in the background filled the air. Yamada moved with an easy confidence, giving her an impromptu tour of the place.

“This is where all the magic happens,” Yamada said, gesturing toward the control panel of one of the booths. “The heart of the station, the spot where we keep the airwaves pumping.”

Y/N’s eyes glimmered with curiosity. She had never been inside a radio station before, but there was something intriguing about the way Yamada spoke of it. “It’s pretty cool,” she said, glancing around. “I always thought there was more to it than just talking on air.”

“Oh, there’s a lot more,” he replied with a chuckle. “But it’s not just about the words. It’s about the vibe, the mood we create. Music’s powerful, Y/N. It can shape lives, change moods, inspire people. I think that’s what draws me to it so much.”

She nodded thoughtfully. There was something magnetic about the way he spoke, and she found herself drawn into the world he was painting for her. “It’s impressive. I didn’t know this side of you,” she said, her voice light but with an underlying tease. “You’re not just a pretty face behind the mic. You’ve got some depth to you, Zashi.”

Yamada flashed her a playful grin. “Pretty face?” he repeated with a raised eyebrow. “I see you’re into my style.” He tilted his head slightly, locking eyes with her in a way that made her heart skip a beat. “Let me show you more. There’s something you should see.”

He led her further into the station, where the main control booth was located, its glass walls offering a full view of the bustling area beyond. The room was quiet, with a single table in the center, surrounded by stacks of music albums, sound equipment, and the occasional coffee mug.

“This is where I do most of my work when I’m not on air,” he said, motioning to the table, which was covered in papers and other radio-related materials. “It’s my little sanctuary. And now,” he added with a sly smile, “I’m sharing it with you.”

Y/N didn’t hesitate. She slid onto the table, crossing her legs as she leaned back slightly. There was something electric in the air between them, something she couldn’t quite place, but she liked it. Her gaze flicked toward Yamada, who had approached her, his playful smile turning into something more intense.

“So, tell me something, Y/N,” Yamada said, his voice dropping lower as he took a step closer, the edge of his smile never fading. “What exactly is it that you want out of all this?” His eyes roamed over her body, and she could feel the heat between them building.

Y/N tilted her head, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice teasing yet curious.

“Come on,” he said, his voice soft and almost seductive now. “You’re not here just for the tour, right?” He placed his hands on either side of the table, leaning in closer, the proximity almost making her breath catch. “What’s really going on here, Y/N?”

She could feel her pulse quicken, but she didn’t back down. He was pushing, probing, trying to get under her skin, and she liked the challenge. “I told you,” she said, keeping her voice light, “I’m just here for the experience.”

Yamada raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. “You sure about that? You’ve got a way about you, something that tells me you’re looking for more.” His lips quirked into a knowing smile, but there was a trace of something else there, an underlying curiosity that made her uneasy.

Y/N’s eyes narrowed, but she couldn’t help the amusement that bubbled up inside her. She had dealt with men like him before, the ones who thought they could unravel her with a few questions, a few sly remarks. She wasn’t here for any of that—at least, that’s what she told herself.

But as his hands slowly slid from the table to her waist, pulling her a little closer, she couldn’t help but feel a tug of something stronger. Something magnetic. Yamada’s lips brushed her ear as he whispered, “You’ve got a little secret, don’t you, Y/N?”

Her heart skipped a beat. She wasn’t stupid—she knew exactly what he was asking. It was clear now that he was trying to get her to open up, to confess. The way he looked at her, the way he spoke—it was all part of the game.

Y/N’s eyes flickered toward the door, then back to Yamada. She had to be careful. She had worked hard to keep her life under wraps, to keep her own secrets hidden. But the way he was looking at her, so intent, so eager to know more—it made her feel exposed, vulnerable in a way that she didn’t quite like.

“Maybe I do have a secret,” she said, leaning in just enough so their faces were only inches apart. Her voice was low, playful, but there was a hint of something dangerous behind her words. “But I don’t think you’re ready to hear it.”

Yamada’s smirk deepened. “Try me,” he said, his fingers grazing her neck as he inched closer. “I like a challenge.”

The air between them was thick with tension, and Y/N could feel herself losing the battle of restraint. Her heart was racing, her body responding to the intensity of the moment. She leaned into him, her lips brushing against his lightly at first, then deeper as his hands slid to her hips, pulling her toward him.

As their kiss deepened, the sound of his breath and the soft rustling of his shirt were the only things filling the air. She lost track of time, of everything, as his lips moved against hers with increasing urgency, the pressure mounting as they pressed closer.

But as Yamada’s hands slid beneath her shirt, the feel of his fingers brushing against her skin sending a jolt through her, she felt something slip—something she hadn’t intended to say.

“More than one, you know,” she muttered between kisses, her voice breathless. “I’ve got more than one.”

Yamada pulled back slightly, his expression momentarily confused. “More than one?” he repeated, eyes narrowing as he processed her words.

“Daddies,” she said with a slight chuckle, not even realizing she had let it slip until the words were out of her mouth. “Mommies, too. You know… multiple ones. It’s not that complicated.”

The confession hung in the air between them, and for a moment, Yamada just stared at her, the intensity in his eyes replaced with something more calculating. “Multiple daddies?” he repeated softly, his voice almost like a whisper.

Y/N could feel the flush creeping up her neck, her nerves suddenly on edge as she realized what she had just revealed. But she refused to take it back. She had her reasons, her rules. She wasn’t ashamed of what she did. And she certainly wasn’t going to apologize for it.

Yamada’s lips curved into a smile, this time with a hint of amusement. “I see. So, I’m just one of many, huh?” he said, his voice light but laced with an edge of curiosity.

Y/N met his gaze, unflinching. “If you want to be, Zashi,” she said, her tone even, almost playful. “I don’t mind sharing.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the weight of the conversation lingering in the air like a strange new tension. Then Yamada leaned in once more, kissing her softly, as though nothing had changed. As if her confession didn’t matter.

But deep down, Y/N knew that things were shifting. This game, this dangerous little dance they were playing, had just taken on a new layer. ｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:

Yamada’s lips lingered just inches from hers, his breath warm and heavy as he pulled back slightly, his hands resting lightly on her waist. His eyes searched hers, his voice low and steady. “So, what would I have to do to be your only one?” His words were spoken with a quiet intensity, a hint of something deeper lurking behind them, something that hinted at a need for commitment, for exclusivity. He was fishing for an answer, his gaze never leaving hers as if he were waiting for her to make up her mind.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, but she didn’t answer right away. The question hung between them, more complicated than he realized. Could she even have just one? Could she really choose just one person after everything she’d been through? The thought of exclusivity was foreign to her, a trap that she had always carefully avoided. And yet… there was something about Yamada’s persistence, his willingness to pursue her, that made her pause.

But before she could respond, her phone buzzed, pulling her out of the moment. Her heart sank as she looked down at the screen. Unknown caller.

She furrowed her brow, and without thinking, she quickly answered the call, trying to push away the tension that had been building. “Hello?” Her voice was sharp, betraying the unease that suddenly gripped her.

On the other end of the line, the voice she’d been dreading to hear came through, low and familiar. “Y/N,” the voice said, a slight rasp in it, but unmistakable. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Her stomach dropped. She didn’t need to hear any more. It was him. Dabi.

Her eyes widened as the realization hit her like a wave. “Dabi…” she breathed out in disbelief, the name falling from her lips as if she had been holding it in for far too long.

There was a brief pause, followed by the familiar chuckle she had come to dread. “I figured you’d recognize my voice,” Dabi’s voice slid through the phone, smoother than ever, but there was a tension in his tone, an edge that made her blood run cold. “I’ve been keeping an eye on you, sis. And I don’t like what I’m seeing.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, and she tried to steady herself, glancing up at Yamada, who still stood before her, his expression now shifting to one of confusion as he tried to figure out what was happening.

“Dabi, I—” she started to speak, but he cut her off, his voice lowering, turning dark and commanding.

“Don’t bother. Just get to me. Now. We need to talk. Don’t make me wait, Y/N.”

She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her mind racing as she tried to process the sudden shift in her plans. She hadn’t expected this—she hadn’t expected him to pull her back into his world so soon. But there was no time to think. No time to process anything.

“I—” she started, but the words died in her throat as she looked back at Yamada. She couldn’t deal with this now. Dabi was waiting, and she had no choice but to go. She didn’t have the luxury of hesitation. Not with him.

“I’m sorry, but I have to go,” Y/N said quickly, her voice soft but firm. She backed away from Yamada, her chest tightening as she avoided looking at him too long, afraid he might see the panic she was desperately trying to mask.

Yamada’s brow furrowed as he watched her step back, his expression one of confusion and concern. “Y/N, wait… What’s going on?”

But she didn’t answer him. She couldn’t. Instead, she turned quickly, almost too quickly, and rushed toward the exit. She didn’t look back, though she could feel his eyes on her, following her every step.

Her heart was pounding as she hurried down the hallway, her hands trembling slightly as she clutched the phone tightly in her palm. The call with Dabi still rang in her ears, the weight of his words hanging over her like a dark cloud. She had no idea what he wanted, but she knew better than to ignore him. The past between them wasn’t something that could be brushed aside so easily.

As she exited the building, she stood for a moment, trying to steady her breath. She could still hear Dabi’s voice, a sharp reminder that she couldn’t escape him, no matter how hard she tried.

“Where are you?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she pressed the phone back to her ear.

A low chuckle filled her ears again, and she could practically hear the grin on Dabi’s face. “I’ll send you the address,” he said, before cutting the call abruptly.

Her heart skipped a beat. She couldn’t ignore this. Not now. Not with the tension still thick between her and Dabi. He had always had a way of pulling her back into his orbit, no matter how much she tried to push away.

Her phone buzzed again, the message from Dabi coming through. An address. One that made her blood run cold.

She stared at the screen, her thoughts spinning. Yamada was still inside, probably wondering where she had gone, and now she had to face the truth of her situation. She couldn’t afford to explain anything to him—not when Dabi was calling her back. Not when the past was coming for her.

With a quick exhale, she shoved the phone into her pocket, determined to follow through. She didn’t have time for apologies or explanations.

Yamada would have to understand. After all, she wasn’t anyone’s one and only. She had her priorities, and right now, Dabi was at the top of the list.

As she made her way toward the address, she knew she was heading into dangerous territory. But it was a danger she knew too well, and one she couldn’t resist.

The night was far from over, and Y/N had no idea what Dabi wanted from her—but she was about to find out.

[rthidden]

Unlocking Creativity: How ChatGPT Can Inspire Your Business

Are you curious how a chatbot can outshine you in creativity?

Let’s explore how ChatGPT draws new ideas from familiar data and why it can be a game-changer for your small business.

1. Making Connections Like a Pro

Just like your brain, ChatGPT thrives on making connections.

It sifts through vast amounts of internet data to find patterns and ideas. This means:

Innovative ideas: It can suggest fresh marketing strategies or product ideas you might not have considered.

Diverse perspectives: Drawing from various sources brings unique viewpoints.

Creative brainstorming: When you're stuck, ChatGPT can become your brainstorming buddy, generating lists of creative ideas in seconds.

2. Tapping into a Well of Knowledge

ChatGPT isn’t just brilliant; it’s like having an intern who’s read everything!

This vast knowledge means it excels at finding solutions to common challenges.

Here’s how that benefits you:

Quick answers: Need a catchy tagline or email subject? ChatGPT can whip one up faster than you can say “limitless potential.”

Industry trends: Stay updated as it provides insights into emerging trends and customer preferences.

Problem-solving support: Stuck on a business hurdle? ChatGPT can offer practical solutions based on similar past scenarios.

3. Creativity at Scale

What if I told you that you could outproduce a whole think tank?

Give ChatGPT a prompt, and it can generate numerous creative responses quickly.

This feature can help you:

Expand content marketing: Generate blog topics, social media posts, or even video scripts on the go.

Generate varied ideas: One prompt may yield dozens of suggestions or concepts, making every brain freeze a thing of the past.

Enhance brainstorming sessions: Use its output to spark new discussions within your team, keeping the creativity flowing.

4. Test Your Creativity Against ChatGPT

Feeling competitive? Challenge ChatGPT!

Ask it to answer a creative question and see how you stack up. This can be an eye-opener because:

Benchmark your skills: Discover how your creative thinking measures against an AI’s rapid-fire ideas.

Sharpen your creativity: Analyzing the responses can inspire you to think outside the box.

Encourage teamwork: Use this exercise in team meetings to elevate collective creativity and inspire new approaches.

Using ChatGPT as a creative ally can unlock new opportunities for your small business.

Whether it generates innovative ideas or enhances problem-solving capabilities, it packs a punch in the creativity department.

So, are you ready to embrace this technological creativity booster?

Give it a try, challenge your ideas, and share your experiences with us below!

[workingforitallthetime]

drawn arrows unseen

part 2 / previous installments/tags

Room 1046 is at the end of the hotel hallway. Mason has to walk by everyone else swiping into their rooms, two by two, whooping it up.

“Sorry you have to babysit me.” Connor says, but it’s not exactly an expression of sympathy. Sorry we’re both stuck with this, says his tone.

“I’d be such a shitty babysitter.” Mason jams his keycard into the slot above their doorknob. “Go on, burn the house down. Make some prank phone calls.” He hits the light switch inside the door and rolls his suitcase past the bathroom to size up the two beds. He claims the one that’s closer to the window and dumps his backpack on the room’s only chair.

Sprawling out, he unloops the mask from over his ears, crumples it in his hand, and drops it over the side of the bed. Won’t need that for four days. Four long fucking days of quarantining with Connor Bedard.

He’s got to make the best of it. He’s got to be nice. Leadership, or whatever.

Mason twists his head toward where Connor’s digging in his suitcase, unloading boxes of protein bars and stacking them by the television. “I’m not your babysitter. Nobody babysits you on your team, do they?” He keeps it intentionally vague because he doesn’t remember what this kid’s team is, whether he played the shortened season in the W or went elsewhere. “Where’d you play this year?”

“Regina. And in Sweden.” Connor hangs a polo shirt in the closet.

“Sweden, eh.” Mason stretches his arms over his head. “Junior or pro?”

“U20, mostly.” Connor takes off his mask and stretches out on his own bed.

“See, you’re used to playing with older guys.” Not quite the same as what Mason’s been doing, but it’s something. “Everybody here's done it.” Everybody who ends up in a Team Canada jersey is the kind of player who’s been leapfrogging their way past their age group all the way up. Mason played U18 games when he was fourteen.

“Feels different, when most of you are the same year.” Without the mask, Connor holds his mouth in a strange way, with his teeth set together and his lip curled back a little, like he’s disgusted.

Mason looks back at the ceiling. “It’s not like any of us have presented.” That’s the real difference once you get past junior. Dynamics emerge. You have to account for the advantages alphas have: the aggression, the fearlessness, the way they can tell by scent which side another alpha’s coming from or whether he’s inclined to fight.

Omegas probably have that scent advantage too, but Mason wouldn’t know. There aren’t very many omegas who play professional hockey. Mason didn’t play with any in Switzerland, anyway.

“I know, just…” Connor waves a hand vaguely at the ceiling. “Regular teams are more spread out, with ages. But you guys all know each other.”

“You know the Western guys, don’t you?”

“I guess.” Bedard snorts. “Guenther cross-checked me last time we played Edmonton.”

“Of course he fucking did, that’s just Guenther.”

[Insert quarantine montage. Team-prescribed workouts that they turn into contests over who can do the most pushups or hold a wall sit the longest. Mason begrudgingly respects Connor for holding his own. Watching hockey highlights and trading opinions, recognizing each other’s insights. Mason forces Connor to close out of YouTube to watch basketball. Mason steals Connor’s snacks until Connor finally snaps at him, and Mason corners him into reluctantly admitting that he has to bring his own bars so he can make sure they’re nut free. The inevitable bad moods of two guys penned up in a room instead of playing hockey, but the brief spats keep settling back into companionability. The kid’s easy to be around. Down to earth, doesn’t have a stick up his ass like Wright.]

Connor picks up the paperback world almanac on Mason’s side of the table between their beds. “What’s this?”

“Geography.” Mason likes to look at the flags, the maps, the information about each country. It’s nice to browse through before bed. Gets him out of his head. “My billet in Switzerland gave it to me.”

Connor flips through the pages. “What’s the capital of Finland?”

“Helsinki.” Mason rolls his eyes. “Ask me a hard one. Like, not a hockey country.”

Connor has to think about that one. “Mexico,” he  says, finally.

“Mexico City.”

“India,” Connor shoots back.

“Delhi. You have no idea if I’m right, do you?”

“No fucking clue.” Connor smirks. “Maybe I’ll study up. Surprise you.”

Mason wouldn’t put it past him. Connor’s got a gleam in his eye like he’s about to memorize all the capitals of Europe just for the hell of it. Looking at him, Mason can’t think of a comeback. “Maybe you will.” He plucks the almanac out of Connor’s hands. “Maybe you will.”

(next)