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crazymadpassionatelove · 4 months

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Cool Fiancè

Notes: 18+ sex mentioned

Special shout-out to @ab4eva and her fabulous editing skills! This is the second installment in my cool girl saga. Read Part 1 here

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Five Things to know about Austin Butler’s New Fiance ::

Although his reps couldn't be reached for comment, sources close to the Elvis actor confirm he has popped the question to his mysterious lady love!

Butler and the stunning brunette were recently spotted at the iconic Les Puces market in Paris last Friday, and she seemed to be sporting a new accessory. Austin was dressed in a black leather jacket, a white v neck tee, and black moto boots. She was clad in a classic trench coat and vintage Dior kitten heels as she kept her head down and let the winner lead the way. His face was mostly obscured by aviator sunglasses, but his smile was very apparent according to onlookers. “Austin was holding her hand and pointing out jewelry at different booths. They were very friendly with local vendors and Austin ended up buying her a gold charm bracelet. He told the dealer the bracelet was a momento to celebrate their recent engagement,” a fellow American tourist overheard. The twosome reportedly spent the prior week soaking in the city of lights and meeting with the YSL fashion house. Austin was recently tapped as the brand's newest ambassador.

Since returning stateside paparazzi pics have finally surfaced and revealed a closer look at that ring. Montana based indie jeweler Jada Kaye has been revealed as the designer of that serious sparkler. The 5 carat, flawless emerald-cut emerald is set in solid gold and flanked by two white diamonds on either side. Inside sources told Elle Magazine that Kaye and Butler worked closely together to craft the one of a kind creation. There's even rumored to be an inscription on the inside that's significant to the couple and the ring is estimated to cost a cool $100,000. Austin's fiancè was photographed heading into a ballet studio yesterday wearing pink tights, a pink leotard, Ugg boots, and of course that ring. Her curly dark brown hair was slicked back into a bun and she seemed to be sporting a pair of the actor's sunglasses.

Here's everything you need to know about the future Mrs. Austin Butler;

She's from New England —

A, as she's known, was born in Rhode Island. She grew up splitting her time between Rhode Island and Kennebunkport, Maine. Her teenage years were spent working the local Del’s lemonade truck, former neighbors say. She attended the Rhode Island School of Design after high school but never graduated.

She and Austin met via her former job –

Whilst working at the New York location of Vibrant Vintage, A, served as the fashion archives buyer. She also happened to be on hand when Butler visited the store. Supposedly she helped him find the perfect pair of leather boots, and the rest is history. Things clearly moved quickly between the two lovebirds, with A relocating to Los Angeles not long after. According to Vibrant Vintage, she is no longer employed there but “remains a close friend and consultant,” says their PR team.

She's a hit with his friends –

She organized a birthday party for her man’s co-star and close friend, Callum Turner. Turner posted an Instagram story showing off a fairly large garden party celebration and a “homemade blueberry glaze cake” according to the post. “Huge thanks to Austin's lovely lady xx” accompanied the video footage. She and Austin were also seen dining with his other Masters of the Air co-star, Nate Mann, while in Paris recently.

They've (supposedly ) got matching ink –

An unnamed employee at the iconic Bang Bang tattoo in NYC has said that Austin and A made a late night visit to the tattoo studio. Where exactly are the said-to-be matching minimalistic tattoos? Reportedly, Austin was inked on his left hip and A on her inner left thigh.

Old fashioned love letters are her thing -

Notably social media shy, Austin and A have taken up the lost art of handwritten love notes. Sources exclusively say that custom monogrammed stationery was crafted for the duo whilst Austin was filming in England. The hand pressed, vintage inspired paper bears a unique coat of arms style symbol with intertwining letter A’s and two sparrows (Fun fact! Sparrows mate for life and always find their way back, no matter how far they fly). While separated, the couple often writes letters to one another, even having the letters sent via jet instead of mail for privacy reasons!

_______

Suddenly one morning articles begin to pour in about your engagement. It catches you off guard, that ring akin to a skating rink has been sitting pretty on your hand for a bit now. The engagement had happened so naturally as everything with the two of you seems to. In the early morning hours while his swollen, rock hard member thrusts into you repeatedly you begin to awaken. On your side, his teeth clamp down on your shoulder as his finger twirls round the curls at the nape of your neck.

His gasps and needy groans tickle your ear. “Couldn't help myself..”, he shudders as you suddenly clamp down around him, barely able to register it all. You stretch and arch, allowing him the room and space to take what he needs. It is his after all. His teeth and pillowy soft lips mark your shoulder blades and when you reach down to where the two of you are joined, you feel his very full balls. Your newly manicured fingers tease and tug the best you can, scrunched up like some sort of acrobat. “Ugh, ugh…baby… you're gonna make me -”. Then he does. Hot, viscous, cream floods you and makes you sigh in a contented whimper. “Thanks darlin’,” he pets your head and you close your eyes dreamily. That is until you hear him rustling around in the bedside table next to him.

You cock open an eye, figuring he's looking for smokes or even the book he had been reading late last night. Your hands are stretched above your head, gripping a pillow. The perfect position for him to suddenly slip the most gorgeous piece of jewelry you've ever seen onto your finger. When your eyes shoot open and you jump up, he's lying there grinning that smile that makes you weak at the knees. “Will you be my wife?” As if your answer would be anything but yes, please Daddy. You smother him in kisses, straddling him and giggling. It's the perfect moment, the perfect proposal. You were never one to want a fireworks display or heaven forbid, those ridiculous and wasteful walls of flowers other celebrities seem to have for every occasion. This private, simple moment is everything you could ask for.

You feel the sudden urge to take him in your mouth despite him just finishing. With your head hanging off the side of the bed, you take him down your throat. Choking and gagging, you really give it your all. Fighting to keep your eyes open so you can see the way his lip curls and his eyes slam shut. Talking is always your thing. This time, though, he's sputtering and rasping words of utter devotion and love. Promises to worship your body until the day he dies. My perfect, perfect wife. Soon you can't be sure if the tears are from his cock down your throat, or his beautiful words. Maybe both. Those pretty boy fingers twist and tug on your nipples and then crawl lower and flick that special spot. The only fireworks you enjoy happen, twice for you actually. He's so dutiful and charming, when you're done pulling yourself back together and fixing your hair, he's handing you a surprise glass of champagne. What a way to mark the occasion.

You decline a proper press announcement. Phone and FaceTime calls follow to those who truly matter to you both - your families, both absolutely thrilled. Then Baz, Cal, The Presley's, everyone can't stop gushing about how perfect you are for each other. That ring, oh how sweet he designed it himself. You come up with a family-appropriate story to describe the proposal and the evening that followed, conveniently leaving out the mind-blowing sex the two of you have all over the house and in the hot tub. Why do things feel so different now that you're engaged? You can't get over the way the light hits the ring as you stroke him and something in that dirty girl heart of yours feels like it's really, truly, official when you have to clean his cum off the stone.

He's due back to set for some reshoots a few days later and of course you follow. Bringing throw pillows from your living room to spruce up his trailer and plotting out how to plan the most private, under the radar wedding possible while you lounge in his trailer in a cute little dress you sew yourself from vintage scarves bought in London. Your newest hobby, that and the ballet classes. He yammers on and on about wanting to sneak in and see you dance. You're sure it's just the tights and leotards spurring his interest though, let's be real. The paparazzi are as relentless as ever, but head down with big sunglasses helps keep the chaos at bay.

You visit Disney World, a whole crew, the two of you, your families, friends with their little ones. Thankfully Disney security is familiar with celebrity guests and you can actually let your guard down for once. Which is good, because seeing Austin chase after your friend's newly toddling little ones makes your stomach flip flop with joy. You make a mental note to expedite the wedding plans, he makes it known that he's chomping at the bit to be a father. When you visit Main Street, you decide a pair of new Mickey ears are in order. Gold stitching with Mrs. Butler is what you finally decide on after Austin's encouragement, his hand on your lower back as you walk miles and miles around the park with hands full of churros and cotton candy. Sure, some overzealous fans snap cell phone pics of you with your ears and immediately post them to those ridiculous Austin fan blogs who've now decided you are the evil villain in his story. You won't allow them to burst your Disney bubble though. Your fairytale is just beginning after all.

#ashley finally writes #Cool Girl #Cool Fiance #austin butler #austin x reader #austin butler au #austin butler imagine #elvis presley #austin elvis imagine #austin elvis x reader #lana del ray aesthetic #cool girl #Priscilla #elvis x reader #austin butler fic #austin butler smut #elvis smut

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shitsndgiggs · 1 month

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Hey, can you write where the reader is dating Kenan but she doesn’t want to have kids

TOO YOUNG - KENAN YILDIZ

Being a mother is not for Y/N

Kenan Yildiz x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The roar of the crowd filled the air as the final whistle blew, signaling the end of another victorious match for Juventus. I was in the stands, as always, cheering for my boyfriend, Kenan, and the rest of the team.

Being part of the Juventus family as a player for the women’s team, I had a unique perspective, knowing exactly what it felt like to be on the field, feeling the rush of adrenaline as the fans chanted our names.

Kenan’s eyes found mine in the crowd, and he gave me a triumphant smile as he raised his hands in victory.

My heart swelled with pride. Even though we were both 19, still early in our careers, our relationship had quickly become the talk of the football world.

Fans adored us together—two young, talented athletes in love, both representing the same iconic club.

The media dubbed us the "Juventus Power Couple," and the attention was both exciting and overwhelming at times.

After the match, I made my way down to the players’ exit to meet Kenan. The stadium was packed with fans, all eager to catch a glimpse of their favorite players.

Kenan emerged from the tunnel, still in his kit, looking as effortlessly handsome as ever. His dark hair was tousled from the game, and his face was flushed with the excitement of the win.

As soon as he spotted me, his smile widened, and he jogged over to where I was waiting.

Without a word, he pulled me into a warm embrace, his familiar scent of sweat and cologne filling my senses.

“You were amazing out there,” I whispered against his chest, feeling the thrum of his heartbeat.

“You think so?” he teased, pulling back slightly to look at me. “Maybe I was just trying to impress my biggest fan.”

I rolled my eyes playfully. “Always the charmer.”

Hand in hand, we began walking towards the car, but it wasn’t long before we were swarmed by fans. They were holding out jerseys, scarves, and phones, all hoping for an autograph or a photo.

Kenan, ever the gracious star, smiled and took the time to greet everyone, signing whatever was thrust his way and posing for pictures.

I did the same, accustomed to the attention, though it still felt surreal sometimes.

The fans were always kind and supportive, and many of them were vocal about how much they loved seeing us together.

But as we stood there, surrounded by a sea of smiling faces, the questions started to change.

“When are you guys going to have kids?” one fan asked, their voice cutting through the chatter.

“Yeah, we can’t wait to see little football stars from the two of you!” another added.

The question hung in the air, and I felt my heart skip a beat. I hadn’t expected this, and the sudden shift in conversation made me uncomfortable. I’d never been one to picture myself as a mother.

It just wasn’t something I saw in my future, and Kenan knew that. We’d talked about it before—how I wasn’t interested in having children, at least not now, and maybe not ever.

Kenan must have sensed my discomfort because he quickly stepped in. “Hey, guys, we really appreciate your support,” he began, his voice calm but firm. “But could you please respect our privacy on this? We’re just focused on our careers right now.”

There was a moment of silence as the fans processed his words, and then they nodded in understanding. “Of course, sorry about that,” one of them said, giving us an apologetic smile.

Kenan gave them a reassuring grin, and with his arm around my shoulders, he gently guided me towards the car.

As we walked away from the crowd, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of emotions—gratitude for Kenan’s quick intervention and a lingering unease about the whole situation.

Once we were in the car and the doors were shut, the noise from outside faded away, leaving just the two of us in the quiet.

Kenan started the engine, but he didn’t pull away immediately. Instead, he turned to look at me, his expression soft and concerned.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, reaching out to take my hand.

I nodded, though I couldn’t hide the worry in my eyes. “Yeah, it’s just… I wasn’t expecting that.”

“I know,” he said gently. “I’m sorry they put you on the spot like that.”

“It’s not your fault,” I said quickly. “I just… I don’t know what to say in situations like that. I don’t want to disappoint anyone, but at the same time, I don’t want to lie about what I want.”

Kenan squeezed my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “You don’t have to say anything you’re not comfortable with. And you definitely don’t have to feel pressured to be or do anything you don’t want to. It’s your body, your life, and your choice.”

His words were exactly what I needed to hear, and I felt a wave of relief wash over me. “Thank you,” I said softly, looking into his eyes. “I just worry that people won’t understand, you know? Especially because we’re so young. Everyone assumes we’ll just follow the typical path.”

“Let them assume whatever they want,” Kenan said with a shrug. “What matters is what we want, what you want. And if you don’t want kids, that’s perfectly fine. We’ve got our whole lives ahead of us to figure things out. And no matter what, I’m with you all the way.”

I couldn’t help but smile at his unwavering support. “You’re really okay with it? I mean, what if you change your mind later?”

Kenan shook his head, his expression serious. “I’m not going to change my mind about you. I love you, and I respect your decisions. If you don’t want kids, then we won’t have them. Simple as that. And if I ever feel differently, we’ll talk about it. But right now, I’m happy with just us.”

His words were a balm to my soul, soothing all the worries and doubts that had been swirling in my mind. “I love you too,” I whispered, leaning over to kiss him.

The drive home was filled with light conversation, the tension from earlier completely dissipated.

By the time we pulled into the driveway, I felt a sense of peace, knowing that whatever challenges we might face, we would face them together.

As we walked into the house, Kenan wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me close. “Now, let’s forget about all that and focus on us, okay?”

“Okay,” I agreed, feeling a smile tug at my lips.

#football imagine #football x reader #turkiye #kenan yildiz x reader #kenan yildiz

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wellnoe · 18 days

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do you think a lot of jean’s costumes having padded/armoured shoulders is a deliberate design choice or just something a lot of artists think is cool? I’ve always found it funny considering she’s a psychic, and I think characters with mental powers make designing costumes harder/ more interesting.

impossible to say with any certainty but i think it is deliberate. first i want to point out that when we first start getting a lot of shoulder pads and armor in jean's design its the 90s, and everyone is getting that treatment. its the fashion of the era. her costumes share similarities with wolverine, domino, cable, etc. i also want to point out that a really consistent design element in jean suits is this triangular design on her body, often emphasized by the armor/shoulder pads:

(using my own sketches for easiness' sake)

i think there are basically 2 reasons for this.

one is that triangles are a sexy shape, which is why you see them across so many superheroes

the second reason is the most interesting to me. and it basically comes down to artists trying to create a design that fits the character's brand through reference, and the struggle of doing that with a character like jean. when you're designing a character's new look, and you want to make sure it still scans as them, i think you tend to look at the classics:

things you immediately notice: big triangle shape emphasizing the shoulders (this is even true of the green mini dress, which was off-the shoulder)! you get this really neat straight across line. looking at the student x-men suit and dark phoenix, you also get this triangle shape over a full-body suit. this will be replicated in a lot of later costumes.

looking at these classic costumes i think you can identify a problem, which is that only one of these is really jean's. her first recognizable suit pretty much becomes the standard x-training uniform, and dark phoenix, while classic, carries a lot of implication. which begs the question of how do you make her distinct from the rest of the team and from her turn as dark phoenix? well, her 90's yellow and blue is almost an inverted version of the team suits from the 60s (and from the era immediately preceding it). you use the clear triangle neckline from phoenix but different colors. and hey, make that shape even bigger, throw in some shoulder pads.

the end result is that jean is often someone draped in x-men or phoenix iconography, even in eras that individualize her and other members of the team. and i think that's cool. it reinforces her connection to those two things in a really subtle way.

tldr: i think the shoulder pads are a way to reference iconic jean costumes' shapes without replicating them too closely (and sometimes matching them more closely to the trends of other costumes).

#w.ask

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nerdraging4point0 · 7 months

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Power Play // Chapter Two // Hockeyplayer!Noah AU

Tropes and tags: RPF:AU hockey player romance, angsty romance, hidden relationship, forbidden relationship, smutty, MF, multiple POV.

Content Warning: angsty romance, hockey player shenanigans, locker room talk, smutty, aggressive hockey players, PinV, MF relationship, possessive male, protective male.

This work below is fictionalized ideas and stories involving real people but does not directly reflect their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction.

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The Uber screeches to a halt outside the fortress-like walls of the Rooks' practice facility, and I scramble out clutching my visitor's pass. After a few tense moments convincing the stone-faced security guard I'm not a crazed fan, the gates swing open. I stride up to the front doors, emblazoned with the iconic blood-red chess piece flanked by two onyx knights - the Santa Monica Rooks logo.

Though they only joined the NHL a couple years back, the scrappy expansion team has already captured the hearts of LA hockey fans - including my dad, former assistant coach for the Kings. When the Rooks came calling, offering him the head coach position, we were over the moon. Now I never miss a game even if it’s just on the TV. I know the players by name, the chants by heart. This team is family.

And today, I got a glimpse behind the curtain.

The frosty air envelops me as soon as I step foot in the rink, sending a shiver down my spine despite my long sleeves. I cross my arms, bracing against the chill. As the team takes the ice to warm up, my eyes follow their every move with a nostalgic fondness. The sound of skates carving into the fresh sheet, the slap of pucks hitting boards - it all washes over me like a warm blanket. I let out a contented sigh, transported back to simpler times when I would gaze upon this familiar scene as a wide-eyed kid.

The players glide across the ice, circling each other in a blur of black and red during their warm-up laps. Legs churned in rhythmic strides as they maneuvered the puck through the cones. The only sounds were blades carving arcs and pucks slapping plastic. Every movement was executed with precision—their concentration evident as they tuned out the world, zeroed in on their drills. At the other end, some stretch and joke around, loose and relaxed. The heavy guitar riffs of AC/DC's "Thunderstruck" blast through the speakers—dad's preference, as always. I can't help but smile. This ice, this team, this music...it all feels like home.

From my spot high in the stands, I admire my dad's confident presence on the bench, his gaze intent as he surveys the players before him. Wearing the team's fleece zip up over his well-muscled frame, the dark fabric accentuating his rugged features. A beanie sat jauntily atop his artfully graying locks, complementing his trademark goatee, still as impeccably groomed as ever. He exuded an air of casual confidence - the easy charisma of a man who gets things done with style. Arms folded, he exchanges nods with Jack, leaning in to examine the clipboard that holds the secrets to today's strategy. Never did make it to the big leagues, but he just loved the chess match, the cat and mouse of setting up the perfect play. The thrill of that last second stretch pass springing the winger for a breakaway. The subtle joking with the refs, giving as good as he got. Win or lose, we lived for that locker room camaraderie. Yeah, he was born to bleed the colors, even if the pros weren't in the cards.

I make my way down towards the gleaming glass, the barrier between me and the warriors below, scanning the colorful jerseys for familiar names. There's number 42, Sanchez, the promising new center we acquired in the off-season. And McClain, number 18, our stalwart in goal, broad-shouldered whether in pads or street clothes.

Two skilled players glided smoothly across the ice, giving each other a friendly shoulder nudge and helmet tap as brothers in arms. Ruffilo sported jersey #22, zipping down the right wing with nimble speed and agility, always quick to jump on a scoring chance. Alongside him skated Sebastian, wearing #13. As right defenseman, he partnered on the blueline with the venerable Karlsson (#62). Together they formed the league's dream defensive pairing, scouted eagerly by rival teams year after year, yet steadfastly loyal to their coach through it all.

"Sarah!" My dad's voice thunders across the rink, making me jolt in surprise. I bolt toward him, nearly slipping over my feet in my excitement. Jack grabs my arm to steady me as we scramble into the box where Dad waits with open arms. I fling myself at him, breathing in the comforting scents of cinnamon and Old Spice that mean home. Though it's been months, as soon as his strong arms fold around me, no time has passed at all. I cling to him, my protector and hero, never wanting to let go.

“You're just in time,” he says with a glint in his eye. ‘We were just about to do a practice run. See how the team looks for the game tomorrow night.”

The sharp trill of the coach's whistle pierces the rink, all eyes snapping to attention. "Alright team, gather round!" Jack bellows, his commanding voice echoing off the cold walls. "We've got a big game tomorrow and it's time to show me what you've got!"

The players scramble into position with new urgency, skates carving trenches into the ice. McClain slams into the net, face set with determination. Sanders follows suit on the opposite end, glove hand twitching with anticipation. Sebastian and Karlsson take their posts, sticks poised for battle.

"Let's run this play again - I want to see crisp passes and quick shots. And remember..." Jack pauses, scanning the tense faces around him. "Leave it all on the ice."

He blows the whistle once more. A flurry of movement erupts as the puck drops, skates tearing over the frozen surface. Shouts fill the frigid air as the team throws themselves into their practice, driven by the coach's steely presence and the promise of tomorrow's game.

The players are focused as they glide across the ice, passing the puck back and forth. Karlsson taps his stick, signaling to Sebastian. They move into position, ready to intercept the other team's attack. The center charges towards the goal, but Karlsson swoops in, poking the puck away. It slides to Sebastian who spins and dishes it off to Sanchez. Sanchez pivots and streaks towards the other end, driving for a counterattack. The scrimmage is intense as the teammates coordinate, aiming to sharpen their skills. Their precise passes and defensive maneuvers showcase their dedication during this hard-fought practice.

Sanchez fires a blistering shot that beats Sanders, the puck rocketing into the net. Sanchez triumphantly throws his stick skyward, but Coach quickly shoots him a warning glare - "One goal does not win a game." As Sanchez skates by, his piercing hazel eyes scan over me for a brief minute, before nodding to my dad. All business, Coach commands respect on the ice. My gaze follows him to position, where I notice Sebastian also watching from his position, momentarily distracted until Karlsson’s stick slap grabs his attention. The intensity radiates as both teams bear down, hungry for the next goal.

The players scramble up and down the ice, sticks clacking as they chase the puck. "Stay in your lane, winger!" Coach bellows, face red. "Defense, keep that blue line secure!" Sanchez barrels through, shoving past his own teammates to get to the net. Coach fumes. That hothead is sparking fights even among his own guys. "Sanchez! Cool it or you're benched!" Coach yells. Sanchez seethes, eyes blazing beneath his helmet. That punk better listen, or this practice will get out of control fast.

Sebastian swoops in and makes a clutch block, gliding on his skates backwards around the net and back into position as smooth as butter. Celebrating with a hearty stick-slap with Karlsson as they criss-cross on their way back to their spots. Just another day at the rink for these puck-stopping pros.

“Karlsson and Sebastian are the league's top players right now,” my dad says, gesturing to the dynamic duo. “I’m fortunate to have them both.”

He goes on to provide insight into each player. Karlsson, a skilled Swede, transferred here a year ago and immediately found chemistry with Sebastian. As we discuss the roster, my dad analyzes each player's strengths and weaknesses. Ruffilo, for example, is quick and agile but weaker skating left. Sanchez has blazing speed but his ego can be a liability. Meanwhile, Sanders rarely sees ice time as McClain's backup. He remains quiet and reserved as a result.

My dad's wealth of knowledge about the team is clear as he gives me an in-depth scouting report on the players - their stats, records, backgrounds, and areas for improvement. His insightful descriptions provide a comprehensive view of the roster.

The boys look exhausted as they skate back to the bench, chests heaving as they try to catch their breath. Jack blows the whistle, signaling the end of the scrimmage. I take in their flushed cheeks and panting faces glistening with sweat. Sanders' sandy blonde hair is matted to his forehead, hazel eyes glazed over with fatigue. Sanchez wipes his brow, dark hair slick against his olive skin that contrasts sharply with his black and red jersey. Golden eyes meet mine briefly before glancing away. McClain rakes a hand through his unruly copper curls, mopped haphazardly on his head. Forest green eyes are ringed with dark circles beneath a smattering of freckles on his cheeks.

Ruffilo and Karlsson skate over to the bench, exhausted. Ruffilo’s shoulder-length black hair, normally pulled back in a tidy bun, is a mess of flyaways and frizz from his helmet. His piercing blue eyes stand out against his tan, sweaty face. Karlsson tosses his helmet aside, releasing his ash blonde hair which is only half pulled back after a grueling workout. Sweat drips down his forehead as he tries to catch his breath.

i'm so caught up staring at the team that I don't even notice Sebastian glide up next to me. He stops hard, ice shavings dancing around his skates. With his helmet off, I finally get a good look at his face. His dark brown hair falls loosely across his cheeks. His eyes are a soft brown too, and his slender nose and exotic bone structure give him an alluring look I can't place. His full lips are parted as he catches his breath, a barely-there mustache and goatee framing them. I'm transfixed, taking in every detail of his handsome face. Hockey has never been so distracting.

"Alright boys, tomorrow we face the toughest team in the league. They've got size, they've got skill. But you know what we've got? Heart. More heart than any team out there. When you step on that ice tomorrow, I want you to remember who we are. We're the Rooks. We never back down from a challenge. We never give up when things get tough. We pour our souls into this game because we love it. We play for each other, as brothers. Tomorrow when that puck drops, I want you to leave it all out there. Skate hard. Hit hard. Play your hearts out, men. I believe in each and every one of you. Now hit the showers and I will see you bright and early tomorrow."

The players glided by, tapping fists with my dad as they headed off the ice. But my eyes stayed locked on Sebastian. He leaned off the boards and skated backward, gaze still holding mine even as he spun and drifted after his teammates toward the locker room. There was something magnetic about him - an intensity that pulled me in and wouldn't let go.

My dad wrapped his strong arm around my shoulders, pulling me in close. "What do ya say we grab some dinner and chat?" he asked with a smile. I clung to his waist as we strolled out of the chilly rink, past the rows of locker rooms, to his cozy office. He rifled through papers on his cluttered desk, gathering his things before we headed out.

"Dad, why'd you want me to come down here today?" I asked. "You said you had something important to tell me."

He paused, keys in hand. "Let's talk over dinner," he replied, his eyes downcast.

I pressed further. "Why not now? Just tell me."

At that, my dad's shoulders slumped. His face fell. I knew then that this was big news - maybe as big as when he and Mom divorced.

"Well," he began slowly, "Jack's niece is going on maternity leave. We had another one lined up, but he took a position elsewhere. We're in a real bind trying to find a replacement nurse on such short notice to help care for the players."

He looked at me hopefully. I could tell this was difficult for him to ask, but nurse or not, I was ready to support my dad no matter what.

Noah's POV

The pads hit the floor with a thud as I stumbled back to the locker room, feeling about as graceful as a newborn giraffe. The boys were already going on about the coach's daughter, the new eye candy on the bench. Fiery red hair that melted into platinum strands, curves that went on for days - she had the boys drooling before she even opened her mouth.

"Dibs!" Sanders called out, grinning. "Maybe she can give me some one-on-one coaching after practice."

"You couldn't catch her if she was standing still, man," Nick laughed, peeling off his sweaty jersey.

"Let McClain take a shot," Pierce chuckled. "Red on red - I like those odds."

McClain just smiled and tossed his gear in his locker. Yeah, she was a distraction all right. Hard not to stare when she was sitting there looking like that. Had the boys fumbling more than usual out there today. But I gotta keep my focus. Eyes on the puck at all times, even with a smokeshow like her watching from the stands.

I fling my stick and helmet into my locker, peeling off my sweaty jersey and pads. Jolly plops down on the bench behind me, the team still chattering away about her.

"You know how it is, bro. The ladies, they always want a piece of the Jolly." He waggles his eyebrows and flexes, his accent making it sound more ridiculous.

I grab my towel and crack it against his back. "Yeah, yeah, keep dreamin' there, stud."

We were all a bunch of goofs when Naomi first started working here, even though she was Jack's niece. We'd give her a hard time and chirp her whenever we got the chance. But once we found out she was married and had been around for a few months, we eased off and let her be. I was sure this chick would be the same, if she stuck around. She didn’t seem like the hockey type.

The steam embraces me as I step into the showers, washing the sweat from my aching body. But the heat isn't enough to penetrate my sore muscles, throbbing from another grueling practice. My mind races, already on the ice for tomorrow's season opener on home ice. I know once I'm out there, stick in hand, the roar of the crowd drowning everything else out, the nerves will fade away. But right now, they're killing me. I close my eyes, let the hot water massage my shoulders, and visualize our victory.

We were so close last season - just two wins away. But this year, this is our year. I'm not settling for anything less.

That is, as long as Sanchez can get his head in the game. Don't get me wrong, the guy's got skills. But that ego of his just grinds my gears, you know? He's always showboating out on the ice when he should be focusing on the play.

It's gonna cause problems, I just know it. I gotta get him to tone it down and be a team player. Otherwise we can kiss that cup goodbye again. And I'll be damned if I let that happen. This is our time. I can taste it.

Nothing can distract me from that, not even her.

#bad omens cult #noah sebastian #bad omens #noahsebastian fanfic #bad omens band #hockey player noah #hockey #bad omens au #bad omens smut #hockey romance #hockeyomens

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conphusedredpandaa · 5 months

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Just a fun little thing I noticed that didn't really fully occur to me until recently...

Ok so in the beginning of the tournament Kurama is wearing this:

It's a very nice battle outfit shirt, pants, belt and a unique color coordination. However as we all know he does change his outfit, and he changes it after the team Masho battle which of course he does the poor outfit is scrap:

Kurama changes to his most recognizable fighting outfit which he is seen in multiple times throughout the show. But here's what's really fun! As you can see in the second picture Yusuke is in his most iconic battle outfit as well. Here's the kicker:

The picture of Kurama is a little off in color but I think we can all see what I'm getting at here. We all know Kurama has multiple colors of this outfit yet he chose to match Yusuke! You can't see their shoes in this but both are also wearing the same black Martial arts shoes (which isn't too surprising but still). I honestly can't believe after hundreds of rewatches I only just realized how matchy matchy Yusuke and Kurama are for part of the Dark Tournament.

#kurama #yusuke urameshi #kurameshi #yu yu hakusho #matching set #cute #i just realized

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greenhorn-art · 8 months

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World Champions | Artwork for World Champions by TheDefenestrator by TheDefenestrator, art by Blurb_brain

Fandom: The King's Avatar | 全职高手

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Category: Gen

Words: 71 944

At the end of season 4 of the Glory Pro Alliance, the government finally receives the information it has been waiting for: The other players have caught up. Or, In which Glory has been a government recruitment ploy for remote-piloted mecha operators all along.

About the Book

FONTS: Mundo Serif, Azonix [dafont], Segoe UI Symbol

IMAGES: Illustration by Blurb_brain [AO3]; cover image by NASA ID: 440611 [Rawpixel]; Planet Earth background ID: 6331593 [Rawpixel]; Circuit lines background ID: 3117935 [Rawpixel]; endpapers' image by Eric Eastman [Unsplash]; Swoksaar, Desert Dust, Lord Grim, Vaccaria, and Cloud Piercer [The King's Avatar Wikia]

MATERIALS: regular printer paper (8.5"x11", 96 bright, 20lb), 80pt bookboard, Iris Bookcloth (colour: Black Pearl), Neenah cardstock (8.5"x11", bright white, 65lb), waxed linen thread (white, 30/3 size), embroidery floss (shades 3750, 350, 3845, 370), leather cording (1.9mm diameter), Reeves’ acrylic paint (Mars Black, Phthalo Blue, Titanum White), Americana acrylic paint (glow in the dark), ph neutral pva glue (Books by Hand)

PROGRAMS USED: Typeset in Affinity Publisher, cover/title page/endpapers designed in Affinity Designer/Photo, QR codes generated with LibreOffice Writer, PDF arranged for printing with Bookbinder-JS

BINDING STYLE: quarto, case bound (slightly rounded, with oxford hollow, forgot to use tapes)

Fenes' "Glory's tech isn't handwaved" AU. This was great! Funny and creative, and I'm both amazed and full of admiration for Fenes' ability to juggle so many characters.

I was feeling excited and ambitious with this one. Tried some new fun things (double core endbands, painted edges) and used some new equipment (a lying press).

The Text

TITLE/HEADINGS FONT: Azonix says 'SciFi' to me, it's a bold, non-serif, sleek font.

BODY FONT: Mundo Serif, it's a decent serif body font I haven't used before. Felt like it worked with Azonix.

SCENE BREAKS: a special character in Segoe UI Symbol of a black & white icon of Earth, the globe showing Asia.

TYPESETTING: Finished typesetting the fic, left document open on my laptop, laptop's battery failed, file now crashes immediately upon reopening, issue persists with copied versions of file (；￣Д￣) . Thankfully I had a backup file for the typeset with the barebones of the text, so I didn't have to restart from scratch...

Title Page

My thinking: it takes place in space, the world's at stake, and it's the dawn of a new horizon for Earth. Glory and the titular champions are represented by Swoksaar, Desert Dust, Lord Grim, Vaccaria, and Cloud Piercer – the captains of what I'd call the 'big 5' teams. A circuitry board background element hints at the tech/mecha nature of the story's competition. It may not match Blurb's art, but I hope I was able to convey some of what the story is about.

The circuitry image is used as decoration throughout the book. I only used the avatars of the top five teams' captains because too many silhouettes would lessen their impact and readability. (Removing the backgrounds was tedious, but worth it.)

Here's what it should have looked like. The test prints for this and the BB art were fine, but I think my inkjet started running out of ink just when I printed the final copies and I didn't reprint them. (Too impatient, really wanted to finish up and read the book)

The Cover

World Champions is another Big Bang fic, and once again I based some of my design choices off of the accompanying artwork. The dominant colours of Blurb_brain's illustration are red and blue-green.

COVER PAPER: For the decorative cover material I used NASA's ASTER image of Poyang Lake. NASA has some really interesting photography some of which remind me of marbled paper, thought it could be interesting. I chose this image of Poyang Lake because 1) it's in China, 2) the colours were similar to Blurb's awesome illustration (fate strikes again, dropping matching images and artwork into my lap!), and 3) NASA is tangentially relevant to the fic, which takes place in space.

BOOKCLOTH: Verona bookcloth in the shade Black Pearl, a lovely dark navy blue colour. Thought it suited the cover paper and title page. (Bought it for this fic specifically, but the colour goes well with almost all of my decorative papers so it should see a lot of use in the future!)

Endpapers

The final decision that held this project at a standstill for two months. In the end I drew inspiration from the matchups against the final opponent in the story. The image I used is a little chaotic and a little too unrelated to identify why I picked it without an explanation, but this book is for me and I know why, so there. (Note that I played around with the colours and cropped the photo.)

Endpaper inspiration: the maps for the matches against the Infilhites

"a long bridge through an enormous tube-like hall, where light seem to come from every side through stained glass windows. It was visually confusing, limited lateral motion" "a warehouse, crates stacked on and beside metal racks that went all the way to the ceiling." "a house of mirrors, fully enclosed to be sure the Infhillte couldn’t fly out of it." "like a volcano, rivers of lava moving sluggishly down a slope, occasional vents of overheated air nearby." "a series of overlapping bridges between halls and stairways, level after level layered over an open abyss."

Trimming & Painting the Edges

Going all out, a 2-for1 deal: the opportunity to use my lying press for the first time and learn a new technique!

TRIMMING: Used a paring chisel and lying press.

CHISEL: The 1.25" wide paring chisel I used was form a modern manufacturer. (Vintage paring chisels are very thin, enough so that you can bend/flex the blade. But don't do that.) It's long and wide blade made it easier to register against the surface of the press for consistent cuts. Looks like this one below from Lee Valley.

LYING PRESS: My dad's project. Solid black walnut, hand carved screws and internal threads — he even made the tools to make the threads too! The jaws of the press are each 3 7/8" wide. It's big and heavy (though much smaller than full-sized professional ones omg), but there's enough of a flat surface to register the chisel against. A thicc boi, much like this one below from Bookbinding Supplies.

PAINTED EDGES: The idea was to have dark navy edges, speckled with white stars. I used acrylic from a tube to paint the edges — tutorials recommended it over liquid bottled acrylic, and I had an old set hanging around. Had to water it down because otherwise the paint just flaked off.

My test of trimming and painting went well. Then the trimmed book itself came out slightly crooked, the paint required significantly more watering-down than before, and the white paint did not want to be both opaque and speckle-able. Unfortunate, but still book-shaped! And now I have an idea of what to do differently next time.

Also, did not like the glow-in-the-dark paint. Looked too translucent in the light when compared to the white acrylic, and needed a thicker coat to be visible in the dark. (The thickness combined with the translucence and base colour kinda reminded me of boogers... Ended up scrapping most of it off, so there's not much left to glow.)

Endbands

Still in the mood to have fun and go all-out, I attempted double-core endbands for the first time.

TUTORIAL: YouTube @ BookbindersChronicle: Bookbinding 101 Sewing Headbands Session 2. Also watched @ DAS Bookbinding's Double-Core Endband // Adventures in Bookbinding, but I personally found Chronicle's closeup video easier to follow.

I used embroidery floss from a 100pk of assorted colours off Amazon, wrapped around a core of 1.9mm leather cording from Michaels. I drew from Blurb_brain's art for the general colours, choosing a dark base, with red, blue-green, and gold. The specific shades were picked to go with the cover.

#World Champions #TheDefenestrator #Blurb_brain #qzgs #tka #the king's avatar #fanfiction #bookbinding #fanbinding

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ketuvamoon · 2 months

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𝐈𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐊𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐯𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐖𝐄 ☋

First, what is Ketu and what are Ketuvians?

In Vedic astrology, there are 9 recognized planets: Surya (Sun), Chandra (Moon), Kuja (Mars), Budha (Mercury), Guru (Jupiter), Shukra (Venus), Shani (Saturn), Rahu (North Node), and Ketu (South Node).

Each of which rules over 3 lunar mansions called nakshatras, bringing the total to 27.

The three nakshatras ruled by Ketu are Ashwini, Magha, and Mula. Ketuvian means having these nakshatras in your big 3 (Sun, Moon, Rising) or having Ketu conjunct one of your big 3. The signs your big 3 are in take precedence before the nakshatras, though.

The WWE is an untapped gold mine when it comes to seeing how certain nakshatras play out in TV and entertainment. The WWE is unique in the way that the roles they play can affect their lives, the lines becoming blurred in a way, who is the character and who is the real person? I think it's very Ketu-like how many wrestlers lose themselves in a persona or in trying to live up to one.

So I’m focusing on Ketu today, Ketu rules extremes, headlessness, and disillusion. In this list, you’re going to see themes such as dark/edginess, first of many/trailblazers, recklessness/carelessness, and/or behaving in a deranged or unhinged fashion. Honestly, what WWE is all about.

Foremost, is the former CEO and head of creative of WWE, Vince McMahon (Magha ♌︎ Sun + Mercury) who in the Attitude Era and onward (1997-), was known for being pretty controversial, to say the least. Starting his evil and mischievous character with the Montreal Screwjob, screwing Bret Hart in the process. Despite that, he was responsible for the company's huge success, after experiencing a rough patch in the early 90s. Bringing us the iconic Ruthless Aggression era, and playing up excessive violence, profanity, and sexual content. The chart for the WWE has (Magha ♌︎ Jupiter + Rahu), giving Vince perfect synastry with it to be the one to bring it to the next level.

Next, The Undertaker (Mula ♐︎ Moon), who is known for his “Deadman” persona. The usual attire is a long, black, trench coat, and a black top hat. He spent all of his career in this persona, though having a short stint as the “American Badass” biker. If I’m not mistaken he’s also the wrestler that took the longest to break kayfabe [the fact or convention of presenting staged performances as genuine or authentic]. He didn’t do interviews until fairly recently, and he now has a podcast, telling stories from his long career.

Now, The Rock (Mula ♐︎ Moon), and Stone Cold Steve Austin (Mula ♐︎ Sun + Mercury). They were each other's most iconic rivalry, defining the Attitude Era. The Rock is the charismatic babyface while Stone Cold is the rebellious heel, both are pretty unfiltered and disrespectful towards others, especially each other.

Next, Team Xtreme (lol), which consisted of the Hardy Boyz: Jeff Hardy (Revati Moon + Ketu), Matt Hardy (Mula ♐︎ Moon), and Lita (Ashwini ♈︎ Sun | Krittika Moon + Ketu). They were known for their extreme, high-flying stunts and innovative moves. Lita joined as their valet and quickly became an active participant in matches, marking the true formation of Team Xtreme. During this period, Lita and Matt were dating. They all had considerable solo success as well, with Jeff becoming WWE Champion in 2008.

The duo found fame in tandem with Edge (Mula ♐︎ Moon + Rahu | Ashwini ♈︎ Mars) & Christian (Ashwini ♈︎ Mars | Mula ♐︎ Rahu), their very risky tables, ladders, and chairs matches definitely set a new standard for any matches of its kind to follow.

With Lita only being part of the trio for 2 years, she found her success as a solo act with the help of two individuals, Trish Stratus (Mula ♐︎ Sun) and Edge. Her feud with Trish Stratus is each other’s biggest, and her real-life affair with Edge became a major storyline used in the show. She caught most of the heat for this affair, the hate from fans running her out of the company in 2006.

The affair with Lita, along with becoming ruthless in his pursuit to become champion, catapulted Edge into stardom, starting the best heel run of all time, IMO. Edge started with a dark and edgy (lol) persona, a “tortured” soul who didn’t speak much. He then moved into a duo with Christian and momentarily became the Brood, a trio of vampires with Gangrel. All before fully leaning into being loud, reckless, and careless, he became the legend he is today, the “Rated R” Superstar. He also had a noteworthy feud with John Cena (Ashwini ♈︎ Sun). He was my first "favorite" wrestler ever, as a Mula Moon myself. 🤭

Trish’s feud with Victoria (Magha ♌︎ Moon + Ketu | Mula ♐︎ Venus) was notable, with them having a Hardcore match at Survivor Series. This was during a time when it was extremely taboo for women to do anything even close to what they did, hitting each other with various objects.

Victoria’s persona was unhinged and edgy, nicknamed the “Black Widow”. I absolutely adored her aesthetic, I notice a lot of Ketu natives gravitate towards black, red, and purple.

Chyna (Mula ♐︎ Sun + Venus) was the one who encouraged Victoria to begin wrestling. Chyna got her start in the WWE acting as a bodyguard for Triple H and Shawn Michaels, forming D-Generation X. Chyna, more than any other woman in wrestling, showed that women can do what men can. She was very important for the women’s division, being the only woman to have held the Intercontinental Championship. She was a trailblazer and nicknamed the “Ninth Wonder of the World”. After being let go from the WWE at the end of 2001, she struggled with drug, alcohol addictions, and depressive tendencies. She unfortunately passed from a drug overdose in 2015. The way things turned out for her truly bothered me, she deserved better. Rest in Peace. 🕊️

Lastly, Sunny (Mula ♐︎ Moon) is known to most as the first major WWE Diva, becoming the most downloaded personality on AOL in 1996. She had a controversial tenure in WWE, having an affair with Shawn Michaels while being publicly involved with Chris Candido. She also struggled with addiction, eventually being let go by WWE in 1998 after too many no-shows. Sunny has since made appearances on independent circuits. Most recently, she has been arrested several times and is now serving a 17.5-year sentence for vehicular manslaughter.

All in all, Ketu has an almost insatiable need to be headless, expressing a sense of carelessness or detachment. It can be their success just as much as it can be their downfall. In the world of wrestling, men often channel this behavior into their work, which reduces the need to act out in their personal lives, though some still do, often through infidelity or drug use. However, Ketu-ruled women in wrestling, lacking similar outlets in their professional roles, tend to seek this detachment in their personal lives, frequently turning to substances as their medium of expression.

Found on Barbara Pijan's site:

"Ketu can have a strong influence on things in this way:

It sometimes renders the mind unbalanced, disturbing social relationships and makes personal life difficult.

Ketu makes itself felt in the psychology of an individual rather than on the material conditions of life."

#vedic astrology #vedic astro observations #ketu #ashwini nakshatra #magha nakshatra #mula nakshatra #wwe #wrestling #wrestlers

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munsons-maiden · 2 years

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Well this is interesting. The new icons all seem to have location specific backgrounds, but Eddie’s is the same as Vecna’s. Yes in the show he died in the upside down, but he was with the Hawkins group the entire time! Why not give him that background? Why give him the same as Vecna? The questions keep piling up

Late to the party because I rolled out of bed about an hour ago 😂 I hope it's okay to sum these up in one post because they're all making the same, absolutely perfect point: the location-specific colors. But they're not really location-specific but more specific regarding which "team" the character belonged to 👀 As one of my lovely anons pointed out, El is green because she has her own story line, is her own team; Cali has yellow, the Russia Squad has blue, the Hawkins Heroes have purple. That’s definitely not a coincidence but a very well thought-out and intended pattern matching their individual POSTERS.

El, like her icon, is the only one with a green background because she's her own team this season, matching the theme of not belonging anywhere and feeling alone.

All the Russia Squad members have a blue background like their icons.

Same for Cali.

Same for all the Hawkins Heroes - EXCEPT EDDIE. HIS COLOR SWITCHED. HE HAD PURPLE LIKE THE OTHERS AND NOW HUS BACKGROUND ISN'T PURPLE ANYMORE BUT DARK TEAL LIKE VECNA'S AND HE'STHE ONLY ONE MATCHING VECNA. HE. SWTCHED. TEAMS.

Eddie Munson will be back, alive but flayed. I'm absolutely certain.

Tagging a few people on this, I hope it's okay 😅 @songforeddiemunson @hellfiredm @eddie-munson-lives @strangerthings4theories

#kiki answers #eddie munson #stranger things 4 #stranger things #stranger things 5 #stranger things season 5

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13a07s · 4 months

Text

Chest Pains

(Tobio Kageyama)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to teerex017]

Requested by: No One

Word Count: 3,466

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

We're going to pretend Tobs has an iPhone cause why not

Kageyama lacking social skills

Word "suicides" are used (in a sport term way)

———————————————————————

Ding

The sound of my Snapchat going off fills my room before my alarm clock can. Not that it makes a difference; I've been lying awake in bed since four-thirty. Mondays and Thursdays are the only days I don't go running in the morning. You'd think I'd be asleep but I'm not. I'm wired to be awake already so I am. It's annoying.

I pat around my bed, looking for my phone without having to move much. It doesn't take long to find the cold box of metal and glass, wrapping my fingers around it. I roll onto my side, the light filling the darkness of my room with painful whiteness.

The photo of my girlfriend and me shines on the screen. It's the dumbest photo I've ever taken. Her feet are - barely - balanced on a volleyball, arms clinging to my shoulders for dear life as she looks at me. My hands are on her waist, trying to stop her from falling off the ball for the tenth time. My disapproval of the photo is written all over my face. It was such a dumb photo, one that she insisted we did "so I have a picture of both my favorite things", but she's smiling so happily at me in it so I can't help but enjoy it... even if it is stupid.

Sugar is scribbled next to the Snapchat icon; another dumb thing on my phone because of my girlfriend. She was upset when I didn't change her Snapchat name so I let her change it for me. It's a stupid name and a stupid thing to be upset about but letting her change it calmed her down so I've left it be.

Over the past couple of months, I've learned that having a girlfriend means dealing with a lot of stupid things because it makes her happy... and that she tends to get upset about things I've never thought about.

One of those stupid things happens to be the pile of pillows and blankets at the foot of my bed. I'm happy with my pillow and my comforter. 'My Sugar' isn't; she likes lots of fluffy things so there's a lot of them for her to curl up with when she's over. It's dumb, but they keep her warm and happy.

Aside from volleyball, that's all I think of; keeping 'My Sugar' warm and happy. That's a dumb name too. Why should I call her my sugar? It sounds stupid... but she always smiles when I call her my sugar, and Tanaka insists now that she has a nickname I'm not allowed to call her by her actual name anymore or "she's totally going to freak, dude".

Why are there so many untalked-about rules when it comes to dating? What does it matter what I call her or have her on my phone as? It doesn't make any sense to me, but it keeps her happy. It keeps her smiling, at me. That smile makes it feel like my heart forgot how to work, leaving me with chest pains.

Can a heart forget how to beat? Probably. I think mine does every time Sugar smiles at me or laughs at something I say or when I spot her in a crowd at one of my practice matches. Maybe I should ask Grandmother to schedule me a physical to get this heart issue straightened out before it starts affecting volleyball.

I shake my head, trying to jiggle the possible heart problem out of my mind. Worrying about it will just make it worse. When I settle my head straight again, I tap the screen of my phone; Sugar and me back to lightening my bedroom. I tap the icon with her useless nickname curved onto it; Snapchat obediently opens at my command.

At the top of the app, she sits; Sugar with a little red box to signal a photo has been sent. Her icon is stacked on top of a few others; Hinata, Yachi, Yamaguchi, Noya, and the team group chat. Sugar's is the only one I have the notification on for, partly because I hate notifications and partly because in an hour I'd get about ten notifications from Hinata alone.

My thumb hovers over our chat for a moment before I click on it. My screen quickly changes from the bright white of the app to the more mutt main color of Sugar's room. My girlfriend is sitting in front of the small mirror in her room. She has two of them; the small one on her desk and the big when she uses to send me pictures of her outfit.

That's another useless thing she does; sending me photos of her outfits. Five of the seven days a week she's wearing the school uniform. I know what it looks like and I know what it looks like on her, why send it to me every day?

This picture isn't that though. It's just a picture of her face, showing off the curves and markings of it; the right side of her face is brighter than the left because of the flash of her camera. Her hair is twisted weirdly today, probably the weird braid she was telling me about last night. French or German or something, I don't remember.

I make a mental note to compliment the new hairstyle, repeating the command as I hold down on her photo, choosing to save it to my camera as I do with most of her photos. I like looking at them. All the time. In class, on the bus to practice matches, between classes, and on breaks at practice.

Maybe I should talk about the constant photo thumbing through I do with my doctor too. I don't think that's normal behavior. I shake my head again, another thought I need to not overthink.

Me| Morning.

It takes a minute or two before Sugar's icon is popping around the corner of the screen.

Sugar| Good morning

Me| Your hair looks nice.

Sugar| Thanks, Tobi

Sugar| You should walk me to school

| today :)

Me| Why would I do that? You live two

| blocks from the school. You'll be fine

| walking yourself.

Sugar's icon jumps up again, doing that weird question mark thing for a few minutes before it disappears again. I sit in our chat, waiting for her response. What could be taking her so long to answer?

Sugar| Okay.

That can't be good. For whatever reason, Tanaka says when Sugar answers with a single word and a period it means she's mad. I don't see any sense in it but he's been right about it every time so I guess she's upset. He also says when I upset her I answered wrong and should backtrack. Is this one of those times? Probably. I guess it wouldn't hurt to walk her to school even if I see it as pointless.

Me| Just kidding.

Me| I'll pick you up at 7:30.

Class doesn't start until eight and it's only a five-minute walk from her house to the school but Sugar tends to be extra happy on days I get to school early enough to spend time with her before class. If I make her extra happy it should cancel out her being mad at me... I think.

Sugar| You don't have to walk me to school

| if you don't want to

Having a girlfriend is confusing. She was just upset that I said no and now she's telling me I don't have to walk her. Maybe I should text Tanaka, he always has the answer. Though, he's probably going to tell me to walk Sugar and that I came off as not wanting to spend time with her. I tend to do that a lot; that's something else I've learned since dating Sugar, that I accidentally come off as annoyed or not wanting her around even though it's not true.

Me| I want to. I'll pick you up at 7:30.

Sugar| I can't wait :)

Good, she's not mad anymore, I think. I should still text Tanaka and make sure I fixed it the right way. Or... I could just get her flowers and be double sure.

Flowers tend to be a good 'sorry' when I accidentally mess up, and if I didn't mess up they'll be a good gift. When I get Sugar flowers and I didn't mess up she calls them 'just cause' gifts. Those kinds of gifts make her the happiest, no matter what I got for my unneeded apology.

Ya, I'll leave early to stop and get her flowers. Purple ones, like the hair-ties holding her weird braid in place.

————————————

Hinata's voice rattles around my head as he rambles, not paying attention to what he's saying but still picking up on his voice. Sugar didn't send me a picture of her uniform today. I figured it was just because I was walking her to school but she didn't post the flowers I got her either. She always posts a picture of the gifts I get her, but she hasn't; not on Snapchat or Instagram or even Facebook.

Why hasn't she posted a picture of them? Did she not like them? She gushed over them when she opened her front door so that can't be the case. I watched her take a picture of them before we left her house, so why aren't they on Snapchat with the annoying shoutout notification telling me she tagged me in the post?

When I texted Tanaka he said it sounded like I should be in the clear. Am I not in the clear? Is Sugar still mad at me? Maybe she didn't like the flowers I got her. Maybe she's mad because I spent our whole morning talking about the new plays Coach came up with.

The lunch bell rings, instantly jerking my body into motion. Hinata whines for a moment, upset I started walking away in the middle of our one-sided conversation. His whining doesn't last long; soon he's back to blabbing as he follows me to Sugar's classroom.

She's in class four, like Yamaguchi and Tsukishima which both ticks me off and makes me a bit calm. I like knowing she's not alone in her classes. I don't like knowing she's with Tsukishima. Sugawara says I'm jealous and to let it go. I'm not jealous. I'm not going to let it go.

It doesn't take long to walk down the hallway and slide into her classroom. My eyes instantly catch on the back of Sugar's head, her braid bouncing as she talks and nods along to whatever her classmate is saying. I settle behind her, waiting for her conversation to end as Hinata continues with our conversation; or, lack of one.

"I'll see you after lunch," she finally utters, nodding her head to her friend once more before turning around to face me. My mind goes blank at the sight of her, any possible form of a greeting is instantly thrown out. Her eyes are gentle as she looks up at me, the rest of her face just as soft. "Hey, Tobio," Sugar greets, her voice making the familiar lack of a heartbeat fill my chest and my lungs sting from the struggle to pull air into them.

"Are you mad at me?" I squeak out, causing confusion to mix in the pools of her eyes.

"No, why do you think I'm mad?"

"He's been whimpering all morning because you didn't post about the flowers he got you," Hinata butts in, mocking my stormy mood.

"Shut up, moron," I hiss, shooting him a glare. All he does is giggle at my anger. Since I started dating Sugar, Hinata has been the biggest dumbass about it. Always insisting I'm texting her when I'm on my phone, making kissy faces anytime we're close to each other, mocking me about her during practice.

Sugar's eyes flutter from Hinata's amused grin back up to my face which I'm sure is dressed in a scowl; one that I drop once her sight is back on me. "It's Monday. You take me out to get a drink from the Sakanoshita Market every Monday after our clubs end. I'm waiting so I can post all the pictures of us at the same time, instead of making two different posts."

"Okay," I mutter, my heart stalled again as she looks up at me; concern slowly eating away at the softness of her expression. Before I can stop it, my hand jumps up to press against my chest, checking to see if my heart is still working. It is. "I think I'm going to go see a doctor soon."

"Why?"

"My heart is acting weird," I shortly explain, letting my hand drop away from my chest. "We should get going before the team starts looking for me."

"And me!" Hinata butts in again, his cockiness replaced with the annoyance of being forgotten. "You act like you're the only person the team would notice was missing," he grumbles, turning away from us to start heading out of the room.

As I turn to follow, Sugar steps forward, her fingers settling into the creek of my arm like they usually do when we walk together. "Guess what I'm making at my club today?" She prompts me, eyes cast forward as Hinata leads us through the crowded hallways.

I used to think the cooking club was stupid, especially when there is so many better clubs, like the volleyball club. Over time I've grown to not dislike it. It leaves Sugar smelling good all the time, like freshly made pastries or homemade tomato sauce. It also leaves the team and me with first dibs on buying whatever the cooking club made each day.

The first time I watched her cook was... interesting. She was pretty, almost dancing around the kitchen as she floated back and forth. She looked joyful the whole three hours it took to make my favorite curry for me. I've never seen Sugar look more happy and beautiful than when she's cooking, twirling around my kitchen, singing to me as she pours her heart over whatever she's cooking for me.

"Curry," I answer, knowing it's probably wrong. I'm always wrong when I guess curry.

"We're making taiyaki. The fish-shaped waffles. I'm thinking about filling mine with chocolate or maybe I'll fill it with cream. I don't know yet, which one should I do?" She asks, her fingers tightening on my arm as she rambles on, excitement radiating off of her.

"Uh... chocolate," I stumble out, my chest freezing again. I need to get a doctor’s appointment scheduled. These constant chest tightening can't be good for me, or volleyball. "Sugar?"

"Tobio?" She calls back, a pep still in her step, and eyes sparkling as they look up at me through her eyelashes. They're painted today, her eyelashes, with that black tinted stuff stored in the tub she carries in her bag. The paint makes her eyelashes look longer than they are; I like how it makes her eyes look bigger.

"My chest hurts," I murmur, tearing my eyes away from her. It almost hurts more to look away from her.

"Why? Tobs, how long has your chest been hurting? Have you called a doctor yet? Set up an appointment? Did you tell your Grandma? Your coach?" Sugar rambles, both hands tightly around my bicep. Concern is glazed over her eyes again, big and round as she looks up at me.

I take small glances at her out of the corner of my eye, trying to steady my breathing. Sugar isn't happy, but her hands sure are warm. "I'll tell coach today at practice. I'll talk to Grandmother and get an appointment set up. I will be fine."

"Chest pains are serious, Tobio. You should - "

"I am fine," I repeat, patting her hands a few times before pulling my touch away from her. A soft sigh passes her lips, her head tilting to rest against my shoulder. Even though Sugar is exhaling, it feels like she's sucking the breath right out of my lungs. I need to talk to Coach about my chest pains, especially since I promised her I would.

————————————

My mind swirls a bit as I inch toward Coach Ukai, the statement I need to make burning in my head. I don't want to tell him about my chest pains. He'll bench me, make me 'take it easy' during practice, or even worse, make me take medical leave.

But, the image of Sugar so upset when I told her is making my skin crawl with the need to see her. I tug my phone out of my pocket, unlocking it, and instantly tapping my photo gallery open. Instantly, every inch of the screen is decorated with photos of her. Photos of her at our lunch table, of her cooking, of my daily 'good morning' Snapchats, of her in my sweatshirt, my jersey, my blankets, my bed, my couch, my kitchen, at my games.

My hand jumps up to rub over my heart again, trying to work out the squeezing I'm feeling as I flip through the photos. I swipe away another photo, the next in line being the one of Sugar and Miwa giggling over a batch of butter cookies. My eyes dance over the photo for the millionth time, rememorizing every inch of it. Their smiles, the way my sweatshirt hangs on Sugar, the dark makeup on my sister's face, even the way the dust dances in the sunlight.

"Kageyama?!" Coach yells, pulling my attention away from my phone. "Finally," he groans, standing right in front of me instead of across the gym like he was before I got caught up in Sugar's photos. "Are you alright?" He mutters, eyes pointed as he motions towards the hand still rubbing rough circles against my chest. "You've been doing that a lot lately."

"Uh... ya," I grumble, dropping my hand back to my side. My phone burns in my hand, the glimpse of Sugar still on the screen making the small device feel like a brick in my hold. "Well... not really." Coach's look gets more pointed, arms crossed over his chest, and an eyebrow arched as he looks at me. "I've been experiencing some chest pains."

"Chest pains?"

"Ya."

Coach stares me down for a few more minutes, rolling his weight on his heels as he looks me over. "What kind of pains?"

"My heart... sometimes feels like it's not working," I mutter, glancing around the gym, eyes jumping over my teammates warming up instead of looking at my Coach. "Other times it feels like there's a fist squeezing it but usually it's the first thing."

A grin is spread over Coach's face when my eyes settle on him again, amusement eating every ounce of concern that was present a couple of moments ago. "Do these pains happen to arise when your arm candy is around? Or when you're thinking about her or maybe looking at the hundreds of photos you have of her?"

"Arm candy?" I ask, confused from the get-go of his speech.

"Your girlfriend, Kageyama. I was referring to your girlfriend," he chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest tighter as his laughter grows.

"I don't have hundreds of photos of Sugar," I grumble, my cheeks heating up with embarrassment. It's normal for someone to have photos of their partner. It's normal for someone to have a lot of photos of their partner too, right? I don't even have that many photos of her... I don't think. What's a normal amount of photos to have of your girlfriend?

"That's not what Hinata says," Coach pushes out around a new round of cackles. He takes a step forward, a rough grip on my shoulder as he shakes me a bit. "What you're feeling is called 'love', Kags. Your 'chest pains' aren't actual pains, they're just feelings of caring and loving your girlfriend. They're not going to kill you, and over time you'll get used to the feeling."

"Is the feeling going to go away?" I ask, rubbing over my heart again, the pain back as thoughts of Sugar flicked through my mind.

Coach laughs again, this time quiet and soft as he shakes me a bit harder. "If you do things right, no. Enjoy that feeling, Kageyama. It means you're loving your Sugar the right way. Hold on to those chest pains, bud." I'm shaken once more before being released. "But for now, hurry up and get changed before I make you run suicides all of practice."

"Yes sir," I mutter, turning on my heels and quickly racing out of the gym. I guess my chest pains weren't something to worry about.

#haikyuu #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu x reader #tobio kageyama #tobio kageyama oneshot #tobio kageyama x reader #tobio oneshot #tobio x reader #kageyama oneshot #kageyama x reader

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pawborough · 1 month

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Mini Preliminary Art and Dev Check In

Hello all!

Thanks for your patience! We found some big bugs in the code and have been working nonstop to iron them out. In general, we've been hesitant to comment on any dates aside from general expectations, but we're erring on the side of caution so as not to promise and run into issues and have to push. Codes can be generated at any time, but we don't want to send them out without a date to match.

In general, we found a bug in forums and have been cleaning it. And with that last push all we'll be doing is a final sweep of each function before sending codes out. It's our hope that alpha will be pretty clean and transition into beta rather quickly.

That all being said, I do not want to do a full throttle update until we have external users in the game, which mark my words will be before the end of August.

So this is just a quick preview of the day to day work we have gotten done! With a comprehensive breakdown on what we are doing to ensure that you all as users are not kept in the dark.

The content shared here does not encompass everything we'll have, and we'll have a dedicated update for August before the month ends.

Art Check In

In general, there's a lot to do on art!

We've begun hiring more artists to meet the demand (information on applying for an artist role can be found on our Instagram, our Discord, our Tumblr, and our Twitter.)

It's for this reason as well that we have not yet provided an updated team graphic. Namely, we want to close applications and onboard the new hires before plastering the newest team roster in various places.

Here is what we currently have to do and are concurrently working on:

Icons, icons, and more icons! There are a total of 175 different icon-only items for the alpha and beginning beta testing. We have so far completed full illustration for 103 of them. The remaining 72 all have placeholder sketches, but we're all pushing to get them done! All flavor text has been written!

In addition, we're working on a new pattern, Leopard, and have illustrated on 7 out of 12 poses, with the goal to push Moontails around the same time as Leopard. This is for users who are not testers to have new material to work with. Fyrets and Thumpers have had their patterns started to also be updated.

Moontails need Cardinal illustrated, but all other patterns are done for them. The push for them has been a lower priority than getting everything for Alpha in order, but they are being worked on between bigger tasks.

The Sweetheart set was completed on the 9 testing poses. All other accessories need additional final illustration. Woolen is the closest to full completion.

Fauna variants and additional Fauna are getting padded out. We shared the Romanovtsa variants with the community this month by playing a guessing game in our Discord!

Electra Crest, Demonic Crest, and Staff Crest are being rendered from sketch designs. All other crests are done.

Decor is being continually illustrated.

Lastly, there are various assets we'll be filling over time, such as NPCs and onsite environmental decorations.

And that's all of what we're currently doing! The art team has been working hard, and if you're interested in working with us, please look at our hiring resources! Applications are still open.

So, let's look at some of what we've done!

Fauna Variants

We shared the work in progresses for the Romanovtsa variants earlier this month. As we explained, all Fauna "recolors" will be variants rather than recolors without change. Each variant will be marked by location, such as "southern" or "far southern" using the world map as reference for regional points!

Southern Romanovtsa by Hydde

Easterh Romanovtsa by Hydde

Western Romanovtsa by Hydde

Central Romanovtsa by Hydde

Leopard Pattern

Leopard design by Hydde. Leopard illustrations by Asp.

Here is a preview of our Leopard pattern!

Icons, icons, icons!

Embers, Honeycomb, Iron Bar, and Steel Bar by Hydde. Boiled Egg, Chicken, Saffron, Sakura, Whale Meat, Bison, Jasmine, Fennel, and Recipe Template by Tybaxel. Apple by Rune. Blackberry and Potato by Nik. Dandelion and Tomato Basil Soup by Rue.

Metamorphic Items

Here is a fun treat! We designed out our metamorphic items: things that change a cat's appearance.

For overcoats: Agate!

Solid Agate, Cardinal Agate, Tiger Agate, Tigerface Agate, Valentine Agate, Butterfly Agate, Tuxedo Agate, and Blotches Agate illustrated by Hydde

For accents: Quartz!

Cheeks Quartz, Lollipop Quartz, Harlequin Quartz, Skin Quartz, Claws Quartz, Overgrowth Blossom Quartz, Overgrowth Ivy Quartz illustrated by Hydde

In lore: these items have been grown, carved, and carefully cultivated by magicians to induce genetic mutations. Thus, they're artfully decorated to do as intended! Some are rarer than others, and magic tech can be expensive, but the breakthrough in magic technology seen in The Metropolis means that, if crafted correctly by a skilled magician, they won't up and fail catastrophically!

And for Overgrowth, the plants have grown and imbued themselves throughout the magic stone!

Angelic Crest

We have been working on forum crests! Here is a look at the Angelic Crest:

Illustration by Giulia

Dev Check In

One big breakthrough was setting up and implementing the admin for Zendesk! With this, we'll be able to much more thoroughly and swiftly note down and respond to support tickets and bug reports. Lots of tools at our disposal now for more competently handling user support. Huge!

Here is what we have to do now:

Re-push forums for testing.

Link all item visuals to onsite items.

Internally sweep all mechanics ready for Alpha and pinpoint any lacking functionality. "Internal Alpha" with about 25 testers has already been happening concurrently, but getting things ready for over 150+ users at once has been the big push!

The first two are happening as I am writing! But unfortunately any estimation for the last point will inevitably put a curse on it. What I can say is that we have an impressive amount of Buttons That Do Stuff and we're really eager to get on it.

In addition, here are the first non-bug-squashing and non-improvement endeavors we're going to work on while Alpha and early closed Beta is happening:

Party functionality for dailies.

Processing (the act of turning one item into another without a recipe, such as dying any accessory item.)

User settings.

Private user to user trading, chat, and friend notifications.

User notification dashboard.

Fauna functionality.

Pelts and partials.

Item and game database.

Adding white coverage in the creator UI, dynamic undercoat gene vs automatic, founder creation and re-creation, and full metamorphic functionality (previewing cat changes in the item card.)

And there will be more! We got a lot designed out to steadily build in. But here's what the immediate plan is. It's very exciting how much like a full game we're looking!

Here's a look at the private trades UI while we're here!

Thanks for all the support!

In the next big update for August, we'll move our progress tracker and give any retrospective on how testing is going, show way more art, give everyone videos on our functionalities, and do a lore dump!

#paw borough #virtual pet #pet site #indie game #art update #petsite #pet sim #kickstarter update #development update #pawborough

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g5mlp · 4 months

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New Hasbro press release revealed multiple new my little pony merch, toys and future event.

MY LITTLE PONY x HEYDUDE: Just in time for back-to-school, HEYDUDE and MY LITTLE PONY introduce a limited-edition footwear collection featuring playful designs from the magical Pony universe. Available for purchase in July, the brands bring together comfort, style and adventure in one collection for both women and girls.

MY LITTLE PONY x DINOSAW: As MY LITTLE PONY Make Your Mark content spreads through China, the iconic pony brand teams up with Dinosaw to deliver high-quality and adorable mini versions of the cute pony characters. The blind box series offers regular painted figures along with metallic and glow-in-the-dark finishes and alternate poses. This all-new look brings fans a refresh take that matches the style that that fans and families know and love.

Hasbro also made a few other My Little Pony announcements in this press release, but it's not clear if they're related to G5.

DUNGEONS & DRAGONS, MAGIC: THE GATHERING, MY LITTLE PONY & TRANSFORMERS x TeeTurtle (NA): Famous for their reversible plushies, TeeTurtle is giving Hasbro’s beloved brands its collectibles treatment through fun, soft and cute plushies based on DUNGEONS & DRAGONS, MAGIC: THE GATHERING, MY LITTLE PONY and TRANSFORMERS.

FURBY, MY LITTLE PONY & POPPLES x Dolls Kill (NA): FURBY, MY LITTLE PONY and POPPLES are stepping into the world of the free spirit, goth glam fashion brand, Dolls Kill. The supercool apparel and accessory collaborations will be available for purchase in June via the Dolls Kill website.

MY LITTLE PONY x Costa (APAC – China): Costa is teaming up with the magical brand for the first time to launch its MY LITTLE PONY collection in summer 2024. Kicking off the new line is pony-inspired tableware and a coffee set with an afternoon tea party theme. Fans can also expect MY LITTLE PONY accessories, including hair accessories, bags, badges, keychains, and home goods, perfect for a ponyfied summer party!

#my little pony #mlp g5 #mlp #my little pony toys #mlp toys #mlp merch

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bcdrawsandwrites · 4 months

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[ID: A Team Fortress 2 fanfic chapter banner in the style of the achievement icons. Pyro stands against a dark background in front of a very large, stylized bonfire. Its body is turned to the side, facing more toward the fire with its back more to the viewer, while it looks back toward the viewer. Pyro's form gray and backlit by the fire. Its lenses are the same orange as the fire. The logs at the base of the fire are yellow-white. The entire image is flipped 90 degrees on its side. On the left is the chapter title in yellow-white text on a transparent gray rectangle. The text reads "CHAPTER FIVE: CAMP FIRE" /end ID]

Flickering

Fandom: Team Fortress 2 Rating: K+ Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Friendship Characters: Spy, Pyro, Sniper, Demo, Soldier, Scout, plus others in smaller roles Warnings: General references to trauma, TF2-typical violence Fic Description: After the events of the comics, the mercs try to go back to how things were, but it’s never that easy.

Spy can see his teammates going through their own struggles… but something seems to be very, very wrong with Pyro in particular.

And since no one else seems to be doing anything about this, Spy makes it his mission to get to the bottom of what is troubling Pyro. For no particular reason. Beta Readers: @mechmolar, @gonturan0, @junuve

---~~~---

Chapter 5: Camp Fire Summary: In which Pyro starts a fire.

---~~~---

"The cart is supposed to move forward!"

"Oh, really? Yeah? Woulda' never guessed! Not like we've been tryin' to do that for the past six hours now!"

Growling, Spy flipped open his disguise kit, grabbed air, and sighed heavily at the reminder that he'd run out of cigarettes. While the earlier break he'd taken, resting cloaked in spawn, had eased the stress of the situation slightly, his body still craved nicotine. And food. And aspirin.

When was this hellish match going to end?

Of course, he knew the answer, and hurried up to the cart, pushing against it to stop it from wheeling backward. But as they were on a slope, gravity was not on his side, and the bomb pushed back against him. "Scout—" he began, only to realize Scout had already run off in pursuit of the enemy.

"'M not Scout, buh I c'n give ya a hand," came Demo's slurred voice, followed by a belch, and the shattering of glass. He appeared at Spy's left side, throwing his own weight against the cart.

Spy glanced back at the shattered bottle of scrumpy behind them and suspected the Demo might be using the cart to keep his own balance, but bit back the urge to comment on it. So long as they finished this stupid match, he did not care.

Slowly they coaxed the cart up the hill, and tension left his shoulders both from physical and mental relief as the track finally leveled out, and they no longer had to fight gravity. They were growing tantalizingly closer to the final lift. Maybe this time would be it, they would reach the final terminus and end this awful—

A shot rang through the already noisy battlefield, and Demo screamed, his legs buckling.

"Mon dieu!" Spy shouted, seeing the blood cascade from Demo's left thigh, and looked up to see the enemy sniper on the tower across from them. He was reloading his rifle, but even from here Spy could see the man's hands shaking—that would've been a headshot, had it not been for the attacker's exhaustion. Said exhaustion was also making him fumble with his own bullets. A very small advantage to the race going on for as long as it had—the enemy was just as exhausted as they.

Grimacing, Spy tapped Demo on the shoulder. "Try to keep going," he whispered. "I'll take care of the sniper." Releasing the cart, he hurried around it, only to stop dead at the sight of the BLU heavy standing directly in his path. "Merde."

Stars exploded in his vision, and he found himself on the ground with what was sure to become a brilliant bruise on his left eye. Before he could say another word, he was yanked to his feet.

"Push that cart, men! That's an order!" Soldier growled, shoving Spy next to the sobbing, limping Demo and joining them at the cart. The enemy heavy had been knocked off his feet—probably from a hit from the rocket launcher Soldier was slinging back over his shoulder—and was off the track.

"Oui," Spy mumbled, blinking wearily. The cart was swimming in front of him, but he threw himself into pushing it forward, willing this agony to come to an end. A glance at Soldier told him that the merc wasn't looking much better himself, but Soldier was always the last to let his injuries get to him. The cart was at least moving somewhat faster, and—

"BONK!"

Soldier's helmet clanged against the bomb as he stumbled into the cart with an animal-like growl, nearly drowned out by the enemy scout's taunting laughter. "Keep... pushing...!"

Demo's bad leg buckled again, and he gripped hard onto the cart, letting out a wail: "MEDIC!"

Squinting, Spy looked back, barely managing to spot their Medic stumbling toward them from the far edge of the field. Meanwhile, the BLU scout joined the heavy, as well as an enemy soldier, and the sniper had surely reloaded his rifle by this point. There was no way they were going to make it.

Spy shut his eyes, hoping their death and respawn would at least be a quick one.

It was not.

In fact, it didn't come at all.

There was a noisy sloshing followed by a hollow metal bounce, and a few cries of confusion from the enemy mercs. This was then followed by a soft click, and Spy opened his eyes just in time to witness the BLU mercs erupt into a fiery blaze. They ran screaming off the building to their agonizing deaths, revealing Pyro standing behind them, tilting its head.

Spy laughed, nearly collapsing against the cart as Pyro joined them, silently pushing it onto the lift.

"Excellent work, Pyro!" Medic gasped as he scrambled onto the lift, turning his medi gun onto the others, much to their relief.

The Pyro nodded.

"Did we... make it...?" Demo mumbled, looking down below the lift. He would have fallen had Soldier not grabbed his arm.

"Just about." Spy watched as the respawned BLU scout scurried up one of the towers and leaped toward them, but the Pyro merely lifted its flamethrower, letting out a powerful air blast that sent the scout sailing backward and crashing into the tower. Looking back at the lift, Spy grimaced upon noting that they were nearing the top. "Well, gentlemen. See you on the other side."

Finally the elevator stopped, and the mercs exchanged pained, yet relieved, glances. It was the last thing they saw before their vision was replaced with a blinding light, and a deafening explosion roared in their ears.

—

The deafening roar after the match was from the mercs themselves.

In spite of their exhaustion, everyone cheered and whooped and howled as they returned to their vehicles. They were traveling in the dark, after how long the match had lasted, but none of them complained. Pyro took the lead, keeping the pilot light on its flamethrower lit and occasionally emphasizing it with a burst of flame to light their way. Normally the behavior would turn the rest of the mercs away, but not tonight.

"Excellent work, private!" Soldier exclaimed, giving the Pyro's shoulder a hearty punch. While before Pyro had been startled at any contact, it did not flinch.

Demo slurred something completely unintelligible, but evidently in agreement. He slung his arm around Pyro, leaning against it.

"Can't believe I'm sayin' this, but you saved the day, there," Scout said, stretching his arms as he walked.

Even Spy couldn't keep quiet, and shrugged. "I'm not easily impressed, but... that was a fine show." He stiffened when Pyro looked back at him, its blank lenses unreadable, but it only turned forward again.

Others shared their agreement with various hoots and hollers, which did not stop when they finally arrived back at their hidden vehicles, and later, at their base. If anything, they kept up for several hours as Scout called for a pizza delivery and Sniper—who had stopped briefly in town—arrived with beer. No one turned down the opportunity to celebrate a hard-won victory.

Not even Pyro.

Spy had fully expected it to sulk off to its room again, but this time it remained during the festivities, sitting quietly off to one side of the mess hall. Occasionally it was approached by other teammates, who thanked it for helping them end that hellish match, and Spy, at one point, glanced over to find that it had been given a can of beer and a few slices of pizza on a greasy plate. Later, the food and drink were gone; if it had consumed the items, Spy hadn't witnessed it.

The party could only last for so long, and soon Heavy was nodding off at the table, Demo had passed out (more from exhaustion than alcohol consumption), Sniper had slunk off to his van, and one by one the others retreated to their quarters. Spy would hit the shower first, but as he left, he spotted Pyro calmly heading back to its own room, and he hummed in interest.

He still didn't know what had happened to it, back when they were in the hands of the enemy mercs at Gray Mann's base, but maybe that didn't matter now. As the Engineer had proposed, it indeed seemed to be coming around.

Spy shook his head.

Maybe it was time to abandon this silly mission.

—

The battle was deafening.

Screaming, gunfire, clashes of metal, explosions, and over everything else rang distorted music that he could not make out. An enemy disorientation tactic, perhaps?

If so, it was working. He kept rushing through the field, and yet he could not find his teammates or the enemies. Acrid smoke filled the air and his lungs, making navigation near-impossible. Even when it cleared slightly, he kept finding himself in impossibly different places—a cave, outdoors, a base, a courtroom. The battle always sounded as though it were around the corner, yet he could not find it.

At the same time, he wasn't ready. He needed to be cloaked or disguised, but every time he looked down, he was himself, exposed, out in the open. So he would cloak or disguise himself again, only for it to wear off faster than he could comprehend.

The battle was deafening. It was close. He was not ready.

He turned and ran in a different direction, trudging through knee-deep water he didn't remember encountering.

Red stood out within the gray water, and he gave a start at seeing Tavish lying against a wall, his face pale, the red coming from more than just his uniform.

Abruptly he remembered there was no respawn here.

Without a second thought he reached down, helping Tavish up to limp alongside him. He was mumbling dazed nonsense, but he caught something intelligible among the gibberish:

"You're carryin' somethin'... heavy..."

"No kidding," he growled, only for Tavish to fall limp against him. His own body seized up and he quickly adjusted his grip so as to not drop him. "No. Stay awake, Tavish." He turned him to get a better look at him, but the man's skin was pale, impossibly so for his complexion. How could it be so—

Tavish's head tipped back, and it suddenly was not Tavish.

It was Jer—

Spy awoke with a jolt, scrambling in his bed for a moment before realizing he was holding one of his own pillows.

A headache pounded behind his eyes as he sat up, squinting at the room around him. In the dim light, his eyes could barely make out a shelf with a few books on one wall, a full-length mirror, and a desk with a nice leather chair—his room in the barracks, not his house. No light came through the window, and a glance at a nearby clock told him it was four in the morning. This wasn’t exactly where he'd prefer to be when recovering from a hangover, but he wasn't about to head back home in the middle of the night. Even so, he wasn't about to go back to sleep with a headache like this, and his tongue was clinging irritably to the roof of his mouth.

With a groan, he slid out of bed, slipping into his usual balaclava and gloves, as well as a comfortable robe and slippers before creeping out of his room and into the barracks hallway. The doors muffled snores from a few of the sleeping mercs, and occasionally a nonsensical mumble made its way out of one of the rooms, but nothing indicating that anyone else was awake. Good.

As Spy made his way down the stairs and into the mess hall, his foggy, headache-addled mind still echoed with the cacophony of battle—memories of the day prior, or perhaps echoes of his nightmare. He shuddered, and nearly tripped over a chair that hadn't been shoved back under the table—the whole room was in disarray, it seemed. Shaking his head, he passed through the mess hall and into the moonlit kitchen, where he threw open a cabinet in search of painkillers. No need to focus on those nightmares. He just needed some water and aspirin. And a cigarette.

He soon found the bottle, and washed a few pills down with a bottle of water from the fridge. (He was tired, but not so tired as to accidentally give himself lead poisoning.) But even as the water and aspirin worked to clear his mind, he could not rid it of the roar of the battle, or the vision of Scout's pale face—

Gunshots rang out through the night, and Spy abruptly realized the roaring was not in his head.

Heart pounding, he scrambled for the door—which he found already open—and reached for a pistol concealed in an inner pocket of his robes. Upon stepping outside, he immediately identified part of the source of the noise: a large bonfire piled up a short distance from the base. He was confident he knew what had started that, but as for the gunshot...

Scanning the desert landscape, he spotted Sniper in front of his van, holding his SMG limply off to one side. Spy crossed the distance as quickly as his slippers would allow, cursing the fact that he hadn't changed into his usual outfit before leaving the room. Upon reaching the van, however, he immediately noticed the autopsy scars that riddled Sniper's bare chest, which yanked his mind back to territory he was very, very much past at this point. At least Sniper was wearing boxers this time. The Sniper did not look up at Spy's approach, however; his gaze was fixed on the ground.

Spy cleared his throat, returning his pistol to his robes. "Mun-dee?" he asked, and Sniper raised his head. His eyes were wide, his face pale. "What happened?"

"Woke up to somethin' tryin' to steal my tires," Sniper said, gesturing vaguely to his truck before looking back at the ground. "Wasn't expectin' it to be..."

Spy followed his gaze to a spot on the ground where a small pool of blood was still soaking into the dirt. There was no corpse. "...Respawn?" he guessed. Hoped.

Sniper nodded slowly. "Headshot. I feel bad for the poor bugger, but I..." He grit his teeth and shook his head. "I didn't recognize the bloody thing! Usually I'll hear it hummin' or mumbling something, but it's been—"

"Silent," Spy finished, sighing. "I've yet to figure out its behavior myself."

Raising his head, Sniper frowned. "Well, here's your chance."

Spy looked back toward the base to find Pyro, in its usual outfit, marching toward the bonfire, a wooden chair in its arms—one of the ones from the mess hall, in fact. Upon reaching the fire, it slammed the chair into the ground, shattering it, and with sharp, agitated movements tossed the broken pieces into the fire. It stared at its work, wringing its hands, then began to pace before the flames, back and forth, looking repeatedly from the fire to the ground.

"It must've been at this all night," Sniper remarked. "Guess that party wasn't enough for it."

"I'm not so sure that's what's happening," Spy said, brow furrowing. He watched as the Pyro finally stopped, holding its head in its hands, almost seeming to claw at itself. Though he couldn't tell from this distance, he was willing to bet it was also trembling. "It doesn't seem to be celebrating."

Just as he took a step toward the fire, the Pyro threw its hands down and charged back into the base.

By this point, some of the other mercs had woken up as well: Demo was leaning out his window from the second floor, scratching his head at the blaze outside, and Soldier was shouting somewhere in the building, no doubt waking even more of them. He chased out Pyro, who was now carrying a cushion from a lounge chair. "Turn that blazing beacon off, maggot! No one wakes up the rest of the team before I play reveille!"

Pyro ignored him, running up to the bonfire and chucking the cushion onto it.

Spy approached Pyro as calmly as possible, keeping his distance from the flames. "As much as I shudder to agree with him, he's at least partially right." When the Pyro's head snapped toward him, he gestured toward the fire. "This signal fire you've created is making it hard for everyone to sleep. Not to mention, you're destroying half the base to create it."

For a few seconds Pyro stared at him, and then pointed at the fire, its finger inches from the flames. Its whole form was backlit in a hellish orange glow.

"Yes, that fire." Spy bit back the urge to spit insults or sarcasm. "You can play with fire somewhere else, and burn things other than other people's—er—" And he broke off as the Pyro took several quick strides toward him. While normally quite agile, he found his foot catching on the back of his expensive robes when he tried to back away.

Pyro lunged at him, grabbing him by the wrists and yanking him closer to the fire.

"Let go of me!" Spy cried, struggling against the creature's grip. "Unhand me, you mute freak!"

But Pyro did not oblige, only pulling him closer. Its breathing was heavy and ragged.

The smoke burned his eyes, and a few embers were getting dangerously close to his robes. Desperately he kicked at his attacker, to no avail, and his thoughts were suddenly consumed with how long it would take for him to burn to death atop that bonfire. "L-let me go—help—help!"

A large hand clapped against his shoulder, and another grabbed the Pyro's wrist.

"Pyro lets Spy go. Now."

Relief coursed through Spy's veins as he looked up at the Heavy. His ridiculous red pajamas did not lessen the effect of his hardened stare, which was focused on Pyro.

Pyro shook its head.

Heavy's hand tightened against its wrist. "Now."

Though Pyro relented, releasing Spy, it immediately turned its attention on Heavy, grabbing at him in quick, furious motions. In response, Heavy lifted Pyro off the ground, holding it up at an arm's length while it writhed and clawed at the air with its free hand.

"Merci," Spy breathed, holding up the hem of his robes and taking several steps back from the fire. He rubbed at his wrists.

Heavy merely grunted, still watching Pyro's squirming. It took what felt like far too long for Pyro to finally give in, hanging limp in Heavy's grasp. When it did so, Heavy tilted his head. "Pyro will behave?"

It nodded lamely.

Finally Heavy set the Pyro down and took a step back. It stood still, arms limp at its sides, head hanging.

Spy took a few more steps back, glancing toward the base and trying to judge how long it would take him to sprint back toward it in his slippers.

Slowly, slowly Pyro lifted its head, facing Spy once again, and began to walk toward him.

Spy looked up at the Heavy in alarm, but Heavy stayed put, crossing his arms.

Pyro's movements were sluggish as it approached, and its hands trembled as it reached for him. Though Spy cried out and tried to back away, it did not grab his wrists again, or try to pull him toward the flames. Instead, it grabbed his shoulders firmly, and lowered its head, burying it into Spy's chest.

It was shaking.

"Um..." Spy stared down at the Pyro. "What?"

"If Heavy were to guess," Heavy said, cocking his head, "Pyro is asking Spy for help."

He looked up at Heavy desperately. "Why me?"

Heavy shrugged. "You were first to notice, da?"

Spy blinked, and looked back down at Pyro. It had not moved, but its trembling had intensified, and once again he could hear its breath, which was hitching and shuddering.

Awkwardly he reached a hand around, and placed it on the Pyro's back.

#tf2 pyro #tf2 spy #tf2 demoman #tf2 soldier #team fortress 2 #tf2 medic #tf2 scout #my art #my writing #fanfic #flickering fanfic #I HAVE BEEN WAITING TO POST THIS CHAPTERRRR #also I'm so happy with how that banner turned out

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daresplaining · 1 year

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Mike Murdock's Sunglasses: On Character Design and Autonomy

I've written a little in the past about character design in regards to the translation of zany alter ego 1960s Mike Murdock into slightly-more-grounded, at least 85% more real 21st century Mike Murdock. Specifically, I talked with artist Phil Noto about Mike's outfits in Daredevil #606-612, and analyzed the clothing choices made by the creative team in the 2020 Annual. However, one specific detail that I find interesting in Mike's transformation from Matt's hyperactive id to his own autonomous person that I haven't really written about yet is his sunglasses-- when he wears them, when he stops, and how this shift may or may not align with his journey.

Matt: "Let's see now-- I'll just muss up the mop, to give myself that carefree tousled look! A fella like Mike wouldn't be caught dead with a simple Ivy-League hair comb! And, I'll have to give my specs a coffee break for a while, as I cover my sightless eyes in a more colorful way-- If the attorney-at-law business ever gets slow, I might just decide to open a school of method acting! Yessir! Stanislavsky had nothing on me! Now, all I've gotta do is change my personality! I figure a clown like Mike Murdock is sure to be on all the time!" Daredevil vol. 1 #26 by Stan Lee, Gene Colan, Frank Giacoia, and Artie Simek

Matt and his dark glasses were inseparable in the 60s-- literally, to the point that he even apparently wore them under his Daredevil mask (fortunately, he doesn't do that anymore). The clear hesitance of DD artists in this period to draw their blind protagonist's uncovered eyes is likely one of the reasons that when it came time for Matt to invent himself a fake sighted twin, the sunglasses stayed on. This has not always been the case. In the years since, Matt has taken on several sighted identities in which he does not wear glasses at all-- notably, con artist Jack Batlin in the 90s. Of the two approaches, the former makes slightly more in-universe sense. As someone with no vision at all, who was blinded in a physically damaging accident, logic suggests that Matt's eyes would look different from those of a sighted person-- most likely due to chemical burns/scarring, but at the very least from things like a lack of eye contact. Thus, the choice for Matt to simply switch up his style of shades for the Mike look, rather than taking the risk of foregoing them entirely, feels logical (even if it doesn't always match up with the way Matt's eyes are actually depicted, but that's a topic for another post).

As it turned out, the oversized, colorful shades ended up tying perfectly into the loudness of the rest of "Mike's" outfits, becoming a memorable staple of the look that Matt crafted for his fake twin-- a look that was as distant from the classic Matt Murdock suit and tie (and simple, dignified shades) as he could manage. These shades were iconically, undeniably Mike's. However, they were still born from the use of sunglasses as a visual shorthand for-- and Matt's in-character response to-- his blindness. A Daredevil reader in 1968 might have looked at ol' Loudmouth Mike and asked the question: If this guy were a real person, independent of Matt, with his own backstory and reasons for dressing the way he does-- would he still choose to wear dark glasses?

Mike: "Well, as I live and breathe! You're Daredevil, right? Friend of my brother, if I don't miss my guess. Real pleasure to meet you at last." Daredevil vol. 5 #606 by Charles Soule, Phil Noto, and Clayton Cowles ("As I live and breathe" is such a funny thing for him to say in this scene.)

Enter: Fragment-Boy Mike, and the beginnings of an answer.

When it came to transforming the concept of Mike Murdock into a fully realized character of his own -- not to mention pulling him out of the 1960s and into the 2010s-- some core Mike Murdock elements were dropped by the creative team, both for the sake of streamlining the narrative and in order to match the tone of the contemporary comic. Fragment Mike is no longer Daredevil's alter ego; in fact, he claims in his first appearance in Daredevil #606 that he has never even met DD before. Gone are the loud clothes, the primary colors, the waistcoats, the fedora with the feather in it. Curiously, all that remains of his original Look(TM)...is the sunglasses.

Foggy: "That is...correct. How did you...?" Mike: "Because I ain't him. I'm me. And now, Foggy...you need to call my brother." Daredevil vol. 5 #608 by Charles Soule, Phil Noto, and Clayton Cowles

Fragment Mike existed in a kind of limbo that neither he, nor Matt, nor even his "creator" Reader really understood-- a tortuous state of both being and non-being, in which he believed himself to be real and then had his worldview shattered by learning that no one else saw him that way. Mike claimed his autonomy and fought for his right to live throughout that story arc, but the simple truth was that he was born out of Matt-- specifically, out of Matt's case files, from which Reader accidentally spawned him-- and the memories he possessed of being anyone/anything else were false. He was nothing but a twisted, reanimated echo of an identity his brother had created, dark glasses included; Matt but not Matt, physically separate but still bound to his brother.

Mike: "I'm Matt Murdock's twin brother, but...but I'm not. I've got some fake memories. I'm like a shell of a thing...but inside...I can tell I didn't live through anything...and I think...I think it's driving me crazy." Daredevil vol. 6 Annual #1 by Chip Zdarsky, Manuel Garcia, Le Beau Underwood, Chris Mooneyham, Rachelle Rosenberg, and Clayton Cowles

But! Fragment Mike, just like Matt, maybe because of Matt, is a fighter. He does not take being fake lying down. Through some Norn Stone magic, our fragment became a Real Boy, with real memories of a real backstory. And if we take a look through that backstory, we finally receive an answer to that 1968 DD fan's hypothetical question, because...

Daredevil vol. 6 Annual #1 by Chip Zdarsky, Manuel Garcia, Le Beau Underwood, Chris Mooneyham, Rachelle Rosenberg, and Clayton Cowles

The moment Mike Murdock becomes a real person, the sunglasses vanish.

Look back through Daredevil volume 6. Once he is officially, cosmically real, the only time we ever see Mike wearing dark glasses is when he is dressed up as Matt (ohhh, the poetry of it all!). He is wearing them, standing in Matt's apartment, when he dies in Matt's place-- fated, in the end, to never entirely escape his brother's gravitational pull-- but what matters is that the sunglasses tied Mike to his origins as his twin in a costume, and the loss of them indicates fully and utterly that Mike has broken away and become his own person. We even get this fascinating scene at the beginning of volume 7:

Matt: "...It was Matt. He came back from rehab, went to his apartment... I don't know what the #$@% Fisk was thinking, but I know they've got history and... Ah, Butch. He killed my brother." Daredevil vol. 7 #1 by Chip Zdarsky, Marco Checchetto, Matthew Wilson, and Clayton Cowles

This is Matt Murdock, in the year 2022, once more pretending to be Mike...post-Norn Stone reality rewrite. And this time? No sunglasses. In fact, Matt claims that the key to a foolproof Mike Murdock disguise is in the eyes: "Not just making sure they faced the right direction...but that no matter what, he had kindness in them..."

Do I love Mike Murdock wearing smarmy shades? Of course I do. But I love a good piece-of-clothing-as-allegory just as much, and I love peeling back the layers of identity to discover who Mike really is when he is not his brother.

#Mike-ing like I've never Miked before here...#Daredevil #Matt Murdock #Mike Murdock #Mike Murdockalypse #Adventures in Continuity #ID in alt text

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