#as they're supposed to be able to choose their team- but that's just most of them. not the ones selected by the orthadox guardians

[pocketramblr]

Girl now is NOT the time to be thinking about Yumi and Nikaro role swap potential

[mysteryshoptls]

R Ace Trappola - P.E. Uniform Vignette

"All that effort for nothing!"

[Sports Field]

Ace: Oh, Housewarden, you on your way back now?

Riddle: Ah, Ace. That's right, we've finished our equestrian club activities for the day.

Ace: Same here for the basketball club. Guess all our clubs just end around the same time.

Riddle: No, not necessarily. Whenever a match draws near, some clubs' practice may end up running longer.

Riddle: Then there are the instances in which the coach is too fired up.

Vargas: Hey, you all get on your feet! You can't build muscle just by sitting around on the field!!

Leona: Tch... Spelldrive club, line up. Time to get back to practicin'.

Spelldrive Club Members: Yessir!

Ace: Woah, they're still going at it… Hm? Isn't that lion-lookin' guy Savanaclaw's Housewarden?

Riddle: That's right. Leona-senpai is also the captain of the Spelldrive club.

Riddle: It's been some time since I've seen him actually actively participating in club practice, though.

Ace: Huh. So, what, you're saying that club's perfect to take it easy in? Didn't expect it to be that lax.

Riddle: You must be joking. Look at their training more carefully.

Spelldrive Club Member A: Huff, puff… Urgh, I can't run anymore…

Spelldrive Club Member B: I g-got no more magic…

Ace: Woah, looks like they're going crazy hard… Glad I didn't join.

Riddle: That reminds me, what club did you join, Ace? Based on what you're wearing, am I right in assuming you joined an athletics club?

Ace: The basketball club! Unlike the Spelldrive club, it's way chiller and relaxed.

Riddle: I see, you chose a team sport… That's rather surprising.

Riddle: From how I see you interact with others in the dorm, I had fully expected you to choose an individual sport.

Ace: You think? I'm actually doin' pretty good as an up-and-coming player on the team.

Ace: Like, for example, my shooting. I can pretty much sink a ball into the hoop without looking after a single glance.

Ace: And I'm pretty good at defense, too.

Ace: I look for where the other guy might try to cut in and steal the ball right from under his nose!

Riddle: I see. I suppose everyone has something they're capable of.

Riddle: You have high spatial awareness. I'll keep that in mind.

Ace: Why do I feel like I just got a backhanded compliment…?

Ace: Okay, but what do you mean by spatial awareness?

Riddle: Spatial awareness means you have the capability to accurately determine the relative condition and position of objects within the given area, and…

Ace: Uhhh～ …Somehow I'm getting more confused now…

Riddle: Sigh. To put it simply…

Riddle: You are able to instantly visualize a scene, including player positions and where the ball and basket are.

Riddle: Although, just because one has this ability doesn't necessarily mean that their body would be capable of keeping pace, so it most likely means that you have good reflexes, as well.

Ace: Huh, you praising me, Housewarden? …Did you eat something you shouldn't've?

Riddle: Don't be rude. Of course I would commend you for your talents.

Riddle: Of course, the main priority should be to behave as the rules dictate, however.

Riddle: As long as you participate well in your club activities, it will only serve to increase Heartslabyul's reputation as a whole. Continue your endeavors without cutting corners.

Ace: I'll do my best. Anyway, I'm kinda getting hungry, should we head back to the dorm?

Riddle: Is that the attitude you should be showing when your Housewarden is giving you advice? Well, no matter. Let us leave.

Ace: 'Kaaay.

Vargas: Alright, guys, you can call it quits after five more sets of passing the disc back and forth!

Spelldrive Club Member A: [gasp, wheeze] …W-We can finally be done… H-Hyah!

Spelldrive Club Member B: Ack! Hey, watch where you're throwing that―

Spelldrive Club Member B: AHH, LOOK OUT!!

Riddle: Hm…?

Ace: Housewarden, look out!

[SLAM!]

Ace: You okay, Housewarden?

Riddle: How were you able to catch the disk from behind you while trying to protect me like that…?

Riddle: I suppose you weren't fibbing when you said you were an up-and-coming player on the basketball team.

Ace: This ain't the time to analyze the situation all casually like that! Yowch, my hand hurts～～!!

Riddle: Of course it does, a Spelldrive disc is made of rather special ore.

Leona: Hey, where do you think you guys were throwing!? Fools!

Spelldrive Club Member A: Eek! S-Sorry, Captain!

Leona: Geez…

Leona: Oh, huh. If it isn't the red-haired brat.

Leona: Hey, you there, flunky number one. Hand over the disc.

Ace: Huuh? Is that really how you should ask for it back?

Ace: If I wasn't here, my Housewarden woulda gotten pummeled, y'know.

Leona: Yeah? Don't think Riddle woulda had any trouble using his magic to flick away a dumb little disk like that.

Leona: See ya. I ain't got time to chat around, unlike you two.

Ace: The hell was that? He pisses me off! He shoulda at least said sorry or something!

Riddle: Indeed. That was no way to speak, even if he were telling the truth.

Ace: Eh? You saying you woulda been able to avoid that?

Riddle: Well, yes, stopping something like that is well within my abilities.

Ace: Ehhh～ Then you shoulda said something. All that effort for nothing!

Riddle: You say that as if I had the time to say something so quickly… However, this did go to help prove how genuine your athletic ability is.

Riddle: Whether it is for a croquet game or an inter-dorm sports tournament… There may come a time in which you would be a great asset for our dormitory.

Riddle: When that time comes, I do hope you'll lend us your strength.

Ace: Ooh, really? I'm pretty good at ball sports, so you can count on me.

Ace: But man, I'd really rather not have any crazy hard training or anything… Heh.

Requested by Anonymous.

[dpr-stay]

Super-Fan | MV33

Max Verstappen x Badminton Player!Reader

No Warnings except a few swears

WC: ~4.5k

Oh boy, i love writing unserious fics about fully grown men like they’re awkward teenagers! They're just funny fellas your honour! Also can you tell I like writing dialogue?

Didn't edit and the writing style changed like six times, sorry!

The life of a professional badminton player can be described as a war between two factors: bankruptcy and passion. Well, less passion and more talent, to be completely fair. It didn’t matter if you had passion if you didn’t have any talent. The reason for this being it was virtually impossible to make any money as a professional badminton player unless you won tournaments or were able to take on thousands of brand deals. 

Now, as a player with a considerable amount of talent but a huge lack of money, you had two options. You could either win more tournaments or take on thousands more brand deals. Of course, considering you were winning as many tournaments as you can, you had to choose the second option.

This meant you had taken brand deals with clothing brands, food delivery apps, animal shelters. In a time of desperation when you couldn’t even afford a coach you had even taken an opportunity to be an ambassador for a garbage collection agency, riding around on a garbage truck for a few days. 

All of these deals meant you were moderately well known by the general public but incredibly well known in the small world of professional badminton players. Not only because of your brand deals though, but also your incredibly quick rise to being first place in many professional tournaments, even earning an Olympic Gold Medal for your country. 

However, you still had to take on more brand deals. So, when your rich cousin came knocking on your door with a proposal to film a video for his F1 team about teaching him how to play badminton and you how to drive, you of course said yes. 

I mean, who the hell would say no to Mercedes? 

This is of course all build up to your current situation. Sitting in a badminton hall, which was full of people with cameras and various filming equipment, with your cousin sitting across from you in a chair. One of those fancy fold out chairs, you know, that should say director on the back.

You weren’t exactly sure how you were going to teach a professional driver how to be competent at playing badminton enough to where he’s good enough competition just as you weren’t actually sure how you were supposed to learn to drive in around an hour. 

But that was a problem for future you, you thought as the camera men gave thumbs-up and George turned to the camera, PR face on.

“Hello everybody. I’m sure you’re wondering who I’m joined by and the answer to that is the most recent gold medalist for women’s singles badminton! Otherwise known as my cousin.” Ignoring the slight tease, you held up two thumbs up and smiled, albeit awkwardly, at the camera.

“Today I am hopefully going to become a pro badminton player.” He said and then turned to you. You both made eye contact and he signaled by moving his eyes for you to say something. You turned to the camera and clapped your hands together.

“And I’ll hopefully learn to drive and get my license.” You finished with a closed mouthed smile.  

“Wait… you don’t have your license?” George asked and you turned back to him. Now aware of his shocked face, you slowly turned back to make eye-contact with the camera.

“No.” You slowly said. His large hand gently came into contact with your shoulder.

“You’re twenty five years old and you can’t drive?” He asked incredulously, you turning your head to now make eye contact with him.

“I’m a badminton player!” You tried to excuse, gesturing out with your hands and he shook his head, his mouth slightly open. His expression prompted you to try and explain.

“I can drive! Like I promise I can, I just don’t.” You tried to save, glancing between the camera and George.

“Yeah, because you don’t have a license!” He said, throwing his hands out, a grin threatening to spread across his face.

“I can leave. I can leave right now and cancel this whole thing.” You threatened, pointing down to the ground with what you hoped came across as power. George took a second to respond, steeling himself from laughing.

“How exactly would you leave?” He said, beginning to laugh. Your expression instantly changed into a stone cold one in response to his joke and you turned to the camera with a fed-up look on your face.

“Do you want a badminton lesson or not, you bastard?” You questioned him and he finally relented. 

“Fine, fine. Shall we start?” He said and you nodded. After the cameras cut you both were quickly praised for how well you get along and your entertainment value before quickly being ushered onto a badminton court and handed rackets. The director quickly counted down before the lights turned on and the camera started recording. 

George turned to you.

“We haven’t been given much direction so you’re just going to have to start teaching and hope it works out.” He smiled and you shot back a smile filled with as much joy as you were feeling.

“We haven’t been given any direction, so we’ll just get this out of the way. You know how to hold a racket, no?” You asked and George smiled guiltily.

“Maybe.” He shrugged, letting the racket drop from his grasp as he brought it up and clatter to the floor. You sighed and picked up the racket before giving it back to him.

“This is going to take a while.”

After roughly 45 minutes of the camera capturing you both making jokes and doing little Jim-from-the-office-esque cut away’s to look at the camera (and teaching George how to play badminton), George was ready to play a match.

You ducked under the net onto the other side of the court and held up the shuttle.

“I’ll take it easy on you, yeah? Can’t have you giving up the racket already.” 

“Nah, I’ll be able to take it.” He dismissed, showing a smirk and waving his hands around. You deadpanned him.

“I think we should at least do one practice match.” He blew out air from his mouth in a mocking gesture and scrunched up his face.

“Nope! Do your worst, I’m sure I'll be able to beat you.” You raised an eyebrow.

“Or at least get a few points.” You tilted your head in question. He narrowed his eyebrows and sighed before admitting.

“I want to teach you to be able to drive.” You ‘ahh-ed’ and nodded before raising the shuttle again and nodding at him. He nodded back and you dropped the shuttle and hit it as a singles serve. George quickly moved closer to the net before gently hitting it over to you.

You, bearing in mind that he told you to do your worst, advanced quickly in footwork you’d practiced for over twenty-two years to quickly smash it straight onto the floor within bounds. 

You made eye-contact with George through the net and saw him visibly gulp. You, then, turned to the camera and gave it a thumbs up before turning back and reaching under the net to scoop up the shuttle. 

“I feel as though I’ve made a mistake.” He said and you huffed out a laugh.

“You asked an olympic gold level athlete to beat you at their game, it’s not going to go in your favour.” You fixed him an incredulous look and he just accepted what you said with a raised hand.

The game continued on, George not doing any better and you only continuing to prove your prowess at your sport. The ways in which George lost became increasingly more difficult to watch as the game went on, staff behind the camera having to muffle their laughs into their sleeves as George flailed around trying to return your hits.

It was down to the last serve of the match (score 20:0) and you geared up to do a fancy serve, aiming to land it just in the boundary line in order to make George run over to get it. Just as you released the shuttle, the door to the entrance of the gym slammed open, making both of you turn your heads to look at the intruder.

Max Verstappen was standing, still in shock, as he took in the sight of the Mercedes camera crew with many cameras pointed his way and the two players in front of him. He blinked as though coming out of a daze before awkwardly laughing.

“You alright mate?” George asked, focused on the guy in the doorway. While he was distracted you quickly tried to scoop up the shuttle, hoping George wouldn’t notice. “Oh yeah I’m fine.” The guy responded, his Dutch accent shining through in his words.

“I was just looking for Y/N.” You snapped your head to face him, ignoring George’s incredibly questioning look.

“Uhh yeah? Is something wrong?” You asked and the man bashfully (you read that right) turned to you. He seemed almost hesitant to speak.

“Can I talk to you after you’re done?” He asked, looking at your forehead to avoid looking at your eyes. 

“Sure?” You said, questioning why the stranger who was also a world champion wanted to talk to you, and why he approached in the way a teenage boy approaches his crush.

He nodded and entered the gym, the door slamming behind him. He lumbered over behind the camera crew, holding some sort of bag and then just stood there and George made eye contact with you. You shrugged at the question in his eyes and the director cleared her throat, causing you both to look at her.

“We’ll start the take again, yes?” She asked and you nodded as did George before he paused.

“Wait, didn’t it fall to the ground?” All movement on the set stopped. You chuckled, albeit nervously.

“No, what are you talking about?” You asked, prepared to start gaslighting, a disbelieving expression on your face.

“I could’ve sworn you let go of it before… that happened.” He said, vaguely gesturing to the door, a grin beginning to spread on his face. You exhaled air and widened your eyes.

“Mate, I think we need to get your memory checked because I didn’t even let go of it.” You said, shrugging and George quickly glanced over to the staff.

“I’m not hallucinating this, no?” None of them replied. He frowned before saying. “We’re colleagues, you guys should have more allegiance to me than to my cousin.” He pleaded as you coughed whispering “Badminton Gold Medallist” very obviously into your fist.

He turned to fix you a glare.

“I am not hallucinating this. I think you’re lying.” You shrugged at his words, smirking.

“I don’t think so. I genuinely think you were hallucinating.” You said as you shook your head, staring at him in pity. He sighed before saying,

“How would your mum feel if she knew you were lying to me like this?” Oh he brought out the big guns.

“Ok, you’re right, I was lying. Please do not tell my mum.” You quickly admitted, holding up your hands and bowing your head. He started laughing as you quickly looked to the camera.

“My mother did not raise a liar.” 

“You just lied.”

You snapped your head back to him.

“Irrelevant.” You pointed a finger in his direction and he started smirking, causing you to groan.

“Does this mean I get a point?” You groaned again and George started laughing as did the staff and camera crew. There was one loud laugh and, as you glanced in the direction of the camera crew, you realized it came from the intruder. What a weird turn of events. You had no idea why he was there or why he wanted to speak to you.

After his brief stint of feeling superior, George quickly served the shuttle in a way you could only describe as dramatic, only to hit it too short so that you got the point and you won the game. You shook his hand under the net, sarcastically thanking him for a fair game.

“Hey, I got that point fair and square.” He said, eyes wide and pointing at you.

“Sure you did, buddy.” You said and patted him on the back. He laughed and the camera crew cut the cameras. The driving part of the video wasn’t scheduled for another hour and it only took 20 minutes to get there and get set up, so the director called for a 30 minute break.

After this was announced George gestured at you to walk to Max Verstappen rather vehemently, so you did, cautiously approaching the man. As you approached he looked up from where he was focused on his phone, quickly turning it off and standing up to shake your hand.

“Hi.” He said, sounding almost breathless as he grasped your hand and shook it almost violently.

“Hi?” You responded, thoroughly confused but letting him continue his assault on your hand.

“I’m Max Verstappen.” He introduced, his eyes shining as he looked at you. You nodded, a small, disbelieving smile growing on your lips.

“Yes, I know who you are.” You replied and he inhaled air audibly.

“You do?” He asked, leaning a bit closer.

“You’re a bit hard to avoid.” You said before carefully tacking on “Not that I go out of my way to avoid you.”

“I’m kind of surprised you know who I am to be honest.” He said and you almost laughed at his humbleness. After a few seconds of him continuing to hold your hand he seemed to come to himself and let go of your hand. He cleared his throat before continuing.

“I don’t know if you know, but I’m a huge fan of yours.” You had not known that and wouldn’t have been able to guess that in a million years. But it definitely explained a few things

“Oh really? That’s cool, I’m flattered.” You smiled, realizing his incredibly odd behavior was him being star-struck. 

“Uhh thanks.” He said before taking a deep breath.

“We started our professional careers around the same time, I don’t know if you know.” He started. “I know your parents always wanted you to be a badminton player, like how my dad always wanted me to be a driver, so I kinda connected to you on that.” You were surprised the man had so much to say, knowing of his usual reservedness or, in George’s words, ‘passive-aggressive-ness’. 

“And then, when we started at the same time, I thought it was cool how we both kinda matched each other at how well we did in our sports. Like when I won the championship, you won gold. Yeah. I just thought it was cool.” After that huge speech he went back to looking at his feet.

“So you’ve been a fan for a while?” You prompted, finding his outburst cute. He looked up again to continue speaking.

“Yeah, I actually watched your Olympic final before the Hungarian GP, like before I had to get in the car!” He said happily and you paused for a second, a confused expression taking over your face.

“Didn’t you crash in that race?” You asked, a slight hesitation in your voice. Max frantically shook his head, laughing awkwardly.

“Uh no. Someone did crash into me though.” He said, emphasizing the ‘into’ as if trying to make sure you knew that he wasn’t a bad driver. You definitely knew though, the many texts you’d received over the years from George about the older man making sure that if you knew one thing about Max Verstappen, it was that he was a damn good driver.

You both descended into awkward silence as you sucked in air through your teeth and rocked back and forth on your feet. He wasn’t helping, after his correction he’d taken to clearing his throat and scratching the back of his neck. You opened your mouth to speak before closing it, having nothing to say except that this might’ve been one of the most awkward situations you’d gotten yourself into.

“I was wondering if you could sign some merch?” He quickly blurted out, snapping your eyes from the roof to his face. You could only nod as he took off his bag and opened it, revealing probably the biggest stash of your merch you had ever seen. You let out a quiet ‘wow’ as he started pulling stuff out and putting it on the chair he was previously sitting on, choosing not to comment on the way he flushed at your words.

His collection was expansive, there was team shirts from your first team, caps with your name on them, your country’s badminton jersey from the olympics with your name on it, a few banners, a badminton bag part of a collection you’d modeled for, and even more merch from all your brand deals. Did you know that you had a special edition of a garbage bag from that garbage company series or a pair of socks from a luxury sock brand? No, but Max definitely did.

He wouldn’t look at you as you took in the scale of all the items. He was probably single handedly paying your rent with the amount of stuff he had bought. You could only look on in awe at the magnitude. You kinda felt bad, you only had a cap with his name on it from a lame attempt to tease George at Secret Santa that backfired when the cap was launched at you and nearly knocked your teeth out.

“It’s not all, if you were wondering.” He said as he quietly stepped back from the pile and you turned to him, an heavily incredulous look on your face. You took note of George in the background of your vision, playing suspiciously on his phone, almost looking as if he was recording.

“Wow, you really are a fan.” Was the only thing you could manage to say as you stared at the array, stuff falling off the chair and onto the floor. You took a deep breath before slapping your thighs as you crouched down, grabbing one of the hats. You turned to look at Max.

“You got a pen?” You asked and he hastily retrieved one from his pocket and handed it to you. You chose not to address the way his hand lingered as it touched yours barely as he handed you the pen.

You signed the hat before reaching deeper into the pile, grabbing a shirt and signing it too. The cycle continued for a few items before you must have grabbed something that upset the pile and you were suddenly buried in your own merch. It’s always those closest to us we can’t trust.

The darkness encapsulated you and you tried to shake off the large mass, but your attempts proved unfruitful. After a few seconds you just resigned yourself to being buried in assorted items with your name plastered on it. I mean, when did you sponsor a lamp company and why was there a lamp with your badminton racket holding the lightbulb? How the hell did Max fit that in his bag?

After 30 seconds you saw light again, Max’s mortified face staring down at your splayed out form. His head was encapsulated by the stadium-grade lights and it was almost as if an angel was looking down at you from the heavens. 

You tried to haul an arm up to hopefully pull yourself out, but you couldn’t move your arm. It was pinned down by a… was that a BearBrick version of you? You really have got to pay attention to the contracts you sign. Max eventually got the memo by the shifting plastic (?) and pulled the bear off of you, leaving you to sit yourself up rapidly with a gasp, like a swimmer getting their first breath after nearly drowning. 

It took you a second to regain your senses, but when you eventually came back to normal you could hear three things. The silence that was permeating from the film crew who could only stare in barely-concealed horror, George’s raucous laughter as he struggled to hold his phone properly to capture you both, and Max’s rushed apologies, repeatedly muttering how sorry he was as he took your hand and hauled you so you were standing. 

You took a second for your iron to stop fucking with you before you patted Max on the shoulder, him letting go of your hand in response and you leaned over to put your hands on your thighs, hanging your head forward before lifting it to see the catastrophe of your merchandise all over the floor.

Max hadn’t stopped apologising and you feared he might combust if you didn’t address it soon. You turned to him, taking in the way he was glaring at the floor and hadn’t stopped fidgeting with his hands, and you sighed. That only seemed to make him shrink in on himself, still apologising before you took his hand and almost dragged him across the hall, out towards the door he had entered the hall through.

There was a small paved walkway outside the hall, the pathway separated from the tin walls of the hall and the road beside the hall by two nice patches of greenery. There was a railing on the outside of the pathway and you leant back against it as you let go of Max’s hand and surveyed his form.

For a world champion, a man who should walk around full of pride, he really presented himself as quite small. Maybe that was just because of the circumstances, but he should be more confident in himself, you couldn’t help but think to yourself.

The way George had described him in his ranting sessions contrasted heavily as to how he was acting in front of you, all shy like. You wondered where the ballsy man who pushed people off track and didn’t really care went. If you were a two time world champion you’d walk around bragging about it everywhere you went.

‘Hey pretty lady, you want to go out? I’m a two time F1 world champion and I can make all your dreams come true!’ To be fair, that probably wouldn’t work on any self-respecting woman, but hey! There’s a lot of women in the world, Max could definitely pull at least one of them.

How did you get here? Your mind was just wondering about, you guessed. The man was attractive, so it did make sense you’d be thinking along these lines, but normally you have a three hour grace period where you decide if a man is a creep before thinking along the lines of if you want to… respectfully ponder his relationship status. 

Max, unfortunately and probably against his wishes, had kinda come off as a bit of a creep, though you knew that if you told him that he would probably shrink in on himself like before and disappear. However, you still found yourself thinking about him like that. Maybe you found it cute, the way he was such a fan? Maybe you were just really flattered that such a famous person liked you so much? Maybe you just found his mannerisms really cute? 

You didn’t know. 

At this point it had been a minute or so of you both quietly standing there, Max having finally stopped apologising as you took his hand. You breathed out and Max’s eyes snapped to you.

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t know that would happen, I wouldn’t have brought everything if I’d have known. I shouldn’t have brought everything, it was too much. This is our first time meeting, this was probably so weird. I didn’t mean to weird you out, I’m sorry. I probably just embarrassed you in front of all of those people, you didn’t deserve that.” The unspoken ‘I just embarrassed myself in front of you’ was heard loudly in your head, as you stared dumbly at the man who had just poured out all of his worries in front of you. 

He went silent again, leaving you with time to process all he had said. While yes, it was definitely a bit much for a first meeting, why did you find it sort of sweet? And, to be quite honest, you didn’t really care about embarrassing yourself in front of the crew. As despondent as it sounds, you’d done worse for less. You decided to tell him as such.

“Nah, you’re fine.” You said and he looked at you again. 

“To be honest, I just pulled you out because I didn’t want you to be embarrassed.” He opened his mouth to speak but closed it at your words. A pause.

“I’m still really sorry about this whole thing, I shouldn’t have stopped by.” He said quietly.

“How would I have known that two time world champion Max Verstappen was my biggest fan then?” You teased and he shook his head, a small smile appearing on his face.

“It was cute honestly.” You said, and his head jolted up to make eye contact, shock plastered all over his face.

“It’s kinda sweet to know someone so respected has such respect for me.” You said quietly, looking to the floor, a smile spread across your face.

“Uhh yeah, I definitely have a lot of respect for you.” He said, clearing his throat. You then looked up at him, like really looked at him. You took a moment to decide something before continuing to speak.

“Would you like to go for dinner at some point?” You asked and Max looked as if he had been shot for a second before jolting out of it. 

“Pardon?” He asked and you winced. Alright, message received. You just awkwardly waved it off.

“Oh nothing, just something stupid.” “No please, what did you say?” A tone of desperation took over his voice and he grasped your hand. You looked at his eyes, genuineness shining through then. Ok, one more shot.

“Would you like to go for dinner?” You asked and he immediately started nodding his head violently. 

“Yes, I’d love to! Can I have your number so we can talk about it?” He asked, and reached into his pocket to grab his phone before coming back empty-handed. He groaned, realising his phone was still in the badminton hall and you laughed.

“Of course, you probably need your phone though.” Max looked over to you as though to say something sarcastic but stopped as he saw your smile. You pretended not to notice and went to open the badminton hall door. 

“Are you ready to go back in?” You asked and he groaned.

“We’re going to have to pack it all up and face Russell.” He said, resignedly, and you laughed.

“Sounds like a good prelude to a dinner.” And he smiled, looking back at you. 

“It does."

You did eventually learn how to drive, by the way. It just wasn’t from George teaching you.

get the title now (i don't know how to embed spotify links so this is what you get, sorry) also probably my worst work but oh well

[vacuously-true]

Every time an app gets an aesthetic/organizational update a lot of people flip shit, can't actually name anything they hate about it besides that it's different (or say a bunch of complicated shit that sounds like actually informed design opinions, but isn't, and boils down to "it's different") and then within a few weeks get used to it and chill out.

(Bonus points for trying to coordinate mass ways to punish the app owners/designers/employees that basically amount to annoying the shit out of them, wasting their time, or fucking up their data, all of which make their jobs harder, which makes improving the app and responding to legitimate concerns harder.)

Can y'all knock it off? Can we all try taking a week to try something before deciding we hate it? And if you do still decide you hate it, figure out why for REAL (this setting is harder to find, this functionality got lost but I really needed it and there's no alternative in the new setup, et cetera). And then be mature about submitting useful and constructive feedback that devs can actually work with? And not flooding their feedback with unconstructive things making it harder to find the things they need to find?

I feel like we're getting into a "kid who cried wolf" situation. If we make the biggest fuss every time anything changes, including over stuff we would really adjust to just fine in a week or two, and make devs' lives miserable over it, they're not going to be able to tell when they change something in a really bad way. Because we react exactly the same. How are they supposed to interpret user feedback when it's always such a mess?

Every app is going to look different every so often. It's going to get updates based on the feedback people have provided since the last update and evolving ideas about what structures work best. If we want the next update to be BETTER we need to be serious about submitting SERIOUS feedback the devs can actually work with. Not stuff that makes it harder to find important feedback. Not stuff that makes it harder to tell what will really improve people's experiences the most.

I'm not saying everyone upset about one thing or another is wrong so don't come at me about your least favorite thing about the update and how I'm an idiot for thinking it's okay. I'm just saying a lot of people are upset before even having had the time to decide what they're upset about and a lot of people are trying to "take action" in ways that will probably make things worse.

Just like. Think about it. Are you mad because something is different and you're not used to it yet? Are you mad because someone else said they're mad so you figure you should be too? Think about it for a minute. Try it out for a few days. Still mad? Cool, see if you can articulate it in a coherent way and submit feedback. Post about it if you want, but ask whether you're making a constructive or useful post, or just trying to get other people riled up. Want to coordinate a mass effort to fuck with the people who run the app? Maybe think about whether it would actually incentivise them to make the changes you want.

Just. Think. Please. Before we lose the trust of every app team that WANTS to listen to us can't trust feedback anymore because we choose not to say constructive things and just try to fuck with them. Like I'm so scared that legitimate concerns will be lost in the flood of "I'm having fun being angry on the internet" and devs will never be able to find it and respond to it. And then they'll just give up.

[emelinstriker]

so having just binged the entier Eternal Servants AU, you made it clear that all of the Champions are solely devoted to their Master with little space left for affection for one another (not ZERO affection, just far less) but what if a Master ordered them to 'be together'? Like, instead of giving/receiving affection, they just wanted to *watch*, and so like, picked two of their Champions and gave an order like (using SWK and SEM as an example) 'Until this hourglass runs out (or something) Macaque you will act as if Wukong is me, and Wukong you will act as if Macaque as me', how (potentially very badly) would the boys take it? Is that a kind of order they could even handle? Or does it pull too far away from the whole 'Master is the most important being in existence' even to *pretend* to be devotedly in love with someone else, even if it's an 'order' (Since it was established the Champions *can* choose to 'interpret' orders and such)

They can most certainly try, but literally none of them would enjoy it. They would also struggle. Like, a lot. As in- You know how devoted and happy they're towards their Master- if they suddenly got dared/ordered to pretend another champion is their Master, that entire enthusiasm and devotion goes down the drain and you can just see even the talkative one be quiet af. Probably the one having the least amount of problems with it (depending on the other champion) would be Macaque, since he's got the best relationship with most of the champions. But pretending to be devoted towards one another would still be very much awkward for any of them.

Though, some would be a lot more awkward about it than others who are more tolerant.

Mink would just dip out the moment the order drops since he already is the one denying orders much more easier than the others. Or if he's told that he's gonna be seen as the Master in this, he'd still immediately dip out because he wouldn't be able to deal with any form of love and affection from these weirdos he was forced to work in a team with.

Macaque would just be so much less enthused about it and all that usual extreme happiness and obsessed love is gone. He might cuddle a bit with his brother if he's the one he's supposed to worship for such a dare/order, but he wouldn't do more than that.

Wukong wouldn't externally change much with expressions, but he most certainly is very reluctant about showing any affection towards anyone who isn't his true Master. If the champion he's supposed to worship is his brother, he'd literally just treat him the same as ever. Maybe cuddle a bit with him too, but that's about it.

MK and Red Son would be filled with so much confusion and disappointment. Like, why would you want them to do that? What's the point? Are they not good enough as servants for their Master?

Nezha do be a lot more grumpy. He usually is already easily angered, but if he was ordered to devote himself to another champion.. You can bet he'll glare daggers towards the other champions the entire time with how annoyed he gets about it. Depending on the champion, his glare is so much sharper. With MK being hit with the least amount of his annoyance.

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

As Fruba fan, are you team Yuki/Kakeru or Yuki/Machi? Why?

I'm a multishipper at heart so I never feel the need to choose uwu (multishippers, we stay winning). But to be honest, Kakeru and Yuki's relationship feels more brotherly to me. Sorry YuKakeYu shippers, I personally don't see it but I can see why y'all do. Considering the canonical bi/pan characters we have like Ayame and Hatsuharu, I don't find it out of the realm of possibility to see Yuki as pan or demi (which I personally do).

Bro connects with who he connects with, gender and sexual orientation have little to do with it.

But if we're talking about who I ship Yuki with above all else? There is a character I firmly believe Yuki would have ended up romantically with if things in the story were different and Kakeru and Machi don't come close at all to being that other person.

It's Kyo.

I am deadass serious when I say it is Kyo.

This is not some toxic yaoi shipping bullshit, I have evidence to back up my claims!

No one will ever be able to convince me that Yuki's first crush wasn't Kyo. Yuki was literally smitten with Kyo and his hair upon their first meeting, the pink on his cheeks wasn't just coming from the snow. This is a hill I will 100% die on. It was Kyo but then Kyo's hostility and the complications with Akito and the entire zodiac curse got in the way of that.

Hell, I don't even really have to imagine what that relationship would have likely been like either because by extension of Hajime and Mutsuki, we get to see that.

Their sons who are literally so close that it is a joke-that-isn't-really-a-joke at the family functions that if they're even left alone together for one second, they'll start hanging all over one another. Their sons who, narratively, are supposed to represent what their fathers' relationship could have been if there had been no curse or any other sort of negative influence tainting it.

And with the very clear romantic overtones of Hajime and Mutsuki's relationship, I think it is subsequently clear where Yuki and Kyo's relationship would have headed if that night they met as kids went differently. Or had someone decided to intervene and get the two of them on more amicable terms as children.

Hajime and Mutsuki have adored each other since they were children, spent most of their time together which they continue doing in the present and they balance each other out by supplementing for each other what the other lacks. And, of course, their chemistry is extremely good.

Whatever happened in the past, we're just us, but… maybe it's really special for our dads to see you and me standing side by side like this. ー Mutsuki, Yuki's son to Hajime

(Like, they literally spend Valentine's Day together when they could easily just spend that day apart. I know they live together but they don't need to be that damn close to partake in the romance holiday goodies.)

And to me, Kyo and Yuki have some great chemistry not only when they're arguing with one another (which I say it's great chemistry because of the envy they feel towards one another, how they only see what is good in the other rather than the flaws. Ex, Yuki's great at everything in Kyo's mind while Yuki desires Kyo's ability to easily connect with people despite his social awkwardness) but during the moments they aren't at each other's throats as well.

Admittedly it could just be my multishipper goggles, but there are 2 main character relationships/dynamics in Fruits Basket where I think 'if you didn't end up with A, you definitely would have ended up with B'. One is more subtle, the other is extremely obvious (I just think some people will be mad at me if I say it lmao, y'all can boo me all you want though I'm right!!!!).

YuKyo is one of those ships for me and it's the more subtle of the two.

Like it is there but it doesn't become obvious until you get to Furuba Another and get introduced to their sons. So I really don't think it is much of a stretch to say that had things been different, we would have seen Kyo and Yuki have an entirely different relationship.

"Adoration turned into envy"??? Yuki, my lad, you couldn't be more obvious that your crush on Kyo became something bitter.

Yuki wanted Kyo to like him, a fact he admits to Kakeru when we dive more into his past. There's a part of him that still wants Kyo to like him and have some sort of positive relationship with each other. And by the end of the main series, there's peace with one another. An acceptance that their relationship may never get to the 'what it could have been' but they have each other's back regardless.

Which I think is lovely. So even with my love of the canon ships we got, YuKyo is one of my favorite Fruits Basket ships that live rent-free in my head.

[egginfroggin]

To the Anon who sent me an ask requesting more little Emmet content: I am so sorry, I started to answer and then Tumblr ate it when I tried to save it to my drafts.

That being said, here is the requested content:

After Emmet gets shrunk from Rift energy, Arceus quickly sees the issue with this situation and tampers with its mark on him -- rather than a subtle mark that designates their connection, visible only to the Nobles and Legendaries, Arceus adjusts it so that most pokemon are able to see that Emmet is Arceus's Chosen, and will leave him alone accordingly. This doesn't always work, but it helps make sure that the Staravias don't try to peck his eyes out, at least. Its effect is flaky when it comes to Paras.

As a continuation of the above point, this makes it slightly worse in some cases, as the frenzied Nobles can see his designation plain as day. Due to Giratina's wrath being the source of their frenzy, this makes them pursue him with single-minded intent. Additionally, some alphas choose to ignore Emmet's mark and all it entails.

Typhlosion mothers Emmet already, but she truly leans into her broodiness in this variant. Do Not Touch. Emotional support fire weasel will bite.

Akari and Rei are well aware of the fact that Emmet is possibly not supposed to look like this, but they frequently forget about this during the process of Sibling Adoption.

The Ride Pokemon (which are considered Nobles in most, if not all, of my works) are very, very protective of this little bean chosen by Arceus. He is tiny! He must be protected!

Jubilife generally treats Emmet more warmly than they do in the original fic. Most people don't know about the theory that Emmet is, in fact, a grown adult who somehow got shrunk. Those who do know about that theory nevertheless treat him more gently because he is still physically, and to some extent mentally, still a child in a very unfortunate situation.

This does not stop a sort of banishment from occurring during the red sky, but rather than chucking the boy out on his ear, Kamado outright orders Akari and Rei to go with him.

(They would go anyway; even if they were to be ostracized, by this point Emmet is their tiny brother, and they would be willing to deal with it)

Palina is not happy with the fact that the Galaxy Team is okay with this tiny child running around fixing problems.

Emmet and Vessa get along great, frankly, once they get past Vessa staring him dead in the eyes and telling him that he is a mess and his soul is blinding and wrong. After that, hijinks ensue.

Emmet is not above using his cute little face and big, shiny eyes to manipulate Akari and Rei into giving him sweets.

Akari and Rei hate distortions with a passion because they're dangerous, but also because whenever they show up, Emmet just up and freaking runs into them and then they have to go drag him back. It's exhausting.

Emmet is very good at escaping whatever measures are instated to keep him contained.

Due to Emmet's tininess, things like stun spore and sleep powder affect him more severely. He will catch a whiff of sleep powder, sneeze, and get verrrry sleepy verrrrry fast.

Akari and Rei learn sign language very fast because it is the only way to tell what the heck Emmet is saying without writing utensils, and in the field, writeable dirt is not common, nor is sand, and they don't usually carry around much spare paper.

On the plus side, Emmet can get tuckered out pretty quickly due to the aforementioned tininess, and he's not very good and pushing on after that point.

On the down side, Emmet can get tuckered out pretty quickly due to the aforementioned tininess, and he's not very good at pushing on after that point.

So, that's all for the moment! I hope this answered your question if you're seeing this, Anon, and that you have a good day. ^^

[thyandrawrites]

Rereading bllk made me realize Reo and Nagi's dynamic encapsulates a lot of the themes of the story, and their conflict perfectly shows the clash between wanting to be good at soccer cause it's fun, and nurturing one's ego to become the best striker in the world.

Interestingly, Reo starts off as the one chasing the latter and Nagi the former, but their first loss in blue lock flips their positions around. Reo can't progress to a point where he devours his opponents in the 3v3 match because he's stuck playing a soccer that is meant to be fun, that plays by established rules. His role in the field is to balance out Chigiri and Kunigami's egos instead of chasing his own goals, just like how he relied on passing to Nagi to score in a pinch.

Reo is a team player, mostly setting up goals with his passes. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing, per se. Controlling the field in such a way is a skill that he shares with Niko, but as Niko's loss also shows, limiting yourself to assisting someone else's goals is a losing strategy in blue lock, where one awakening can turn the scores upside down in a matter of minutes. Yet, Reo plays it safe because up till then his ideal of soccer is driven by the promise he made to Nagi. Winning together. Becoming the best together. His one objective throughout the match isn't being the best in the field, or even winning the match, but simply winning Nagi back. His ego cannot grow because he becomes complacent in what used to work for them.

As Ego puts it, Reo refuses to face reality and chases his dream for the sake of chasing it, refusing to admit to his shortcomings and thus entering a mindset where he can grow from his loss.

And Nagi calls this out.

Nagi, who used to think he'd quit playing if he wasn't good enough to win, instead ends up growing through a loss. The only soccer he knew until then was the one he played with Reo, but he's able to face that it wasn't enough to win. Thus, he chooses to advance alone, recognizing that what he lacks to become best in the world and crown their promise is not a lack of teamwork, but a lack of ego. Nagi lost to Isagi on a 1v1 before than the match as a whole. So he chooses him because Isagi demonstrated his willingness to chase after monsters to devour and better his plays, aka the drive Nagi lacked, but also the drive that is at the heart of true egoism. While Isagi would not give up in the face of likely loss and instead made an awakening happen, Reo, despite being equally driven, ends up falling behind. And that's, I think, because Reo gets so stubborn about not letting go of the idea of soccer he had before joining blue lock. The soccer that had himself and Nagi as its core, the soccer that didn't need anything else to be effective (not Kuon's subterfuge, not Isagi's direct shot, just the two of them as they are):

But, and here's where it gets interesting, Nagi, the unmotivated slacker, evolves, and Reo, the driven one, does not. Why's that?

One could say it's because Reo's a sheltered rich boy who never encountered a challenge in his life, and is not equipped for it. That could be true, I suppose. It definitely plays a role, just like how new soccer is to him in general. But it's also a matter of themes!

What Reo doesn't account for is that what worked against weaker teams won't work against team Z, who is the bottom of the barrel, and basically starving. They're willing to take themselves apart and rebuild anew just to remain in the running, and that makes them better candidates for Ego's goals. Nagi is able to recognize this, at least to an extent. He instinctively gravitated towards Isagi, the player whose hunger is arguably the strongest, and who thus is the most driven to break and rebuild himself anew in every match.

Reo, on the other hand, is more businessman-like. He asses individual strengths and drives them out with his passes and his machinations. That's how he can capitalize on less strategic players like Nagi and Zantetsu, while simultaneously being the driving force of team V. At the same time, that's also why he doesn't see Isagi's weapons for what they are, at first, while Nagi does. Since Isagi is still failing to be consistent, Reo sees a mediocre player who can only shoot, but is lacking in every other department. Nagi, who is much more reliant on trusting his guts, sees the guy who predicted where the ball would go and preceded him there, and realizes Isagi's true assets. That is, the ability to create your own scoring possibility, even though at that point it was still in its larval state.

To Nagi, who until then only played by receiving passes and following his inspiration, Isagi is the puzzle piece he's lacking. Reo's playstyle is different because they've never faced an opponent they couldn't beat together. In that sense, Reo can't teach Nagi that hunger that drives his plays, only Isagi can. To Reo, Nagi is already a treasure as he is. But Nagi's ego sparked to life, and he has questions that Reo can't answer. So he follows Isagi instead, in an effort to answer them.

Misunderstandings enter the chat. Chaos ensues.

Keeping all that in mind, when Reo then accuses Nagi of having changed, it opens the floodgates. Of course, it's true that Nagi did. He evolved, and that's plain for everyone to see. But, and this is equally important, Reo did not. Reo remained the same, to a fault. In fact, he's preaching remaining the same as a virtue that Nagi's pissing on.

So then when Nagi retorts that "the one who's forgetting our promise is you", I think he's saying that Reo is not actively trying to become the best anymore, but only seeking a soccer that is "fun". A soccer like the stuff that worked for them pre-blue lock, pre this mass of starved egoists. But they already played that way, and lost to team Z, to Isagi. They stopped being the best in their stratum.

During the 3v3, Reo begins to understand the reason why Isagi is a good player, and his frustration grows the more the march goes on. But he's powerless to stop them from winning, and then he refuses to accept the loss, griping at Nagi for discarding him again. In other words, instead of using that frustration as fuel to spark an awakening, Reo let himself crash into that wall, and then still asked to advance not because of his skills on the field, but simply on accounts of what he'd contribute to the team. He doesn't believe in his own ego, but relies on being chosen. Unlike Chigiri, who evolved to face the challenge, Reo and Kunigami were regular players, and that's why they get left behind. For the same reason, they both grow as characters when they start incorporating egoism into their playstyles. Reo becomes a chameleon, Kunigami a cannon.

But in this moment? All Nagi sees is a Reo who is fine being average. Comparing that to their dream, he blows up at him for letting that be the end of his line, for implicitly going back on the promise to show Nagi a 'life more enthralling than any nap or game'. They didn't even beat the best players in blue lock, so how can Reo speak of being the best in the world?

Of course, to Reo, it's Nagi who betrayed it first by advancing without him. He always assumed they would cross that finish line together. But the story tells us, this is the mark between a "lump of talent" and someone who can aim at being the best striker. The latter makes his own plays, and doesn't rely on others to create his opening; but an average player is someone who hangs on to dreams without putting in the effort to challenge oneself, even after a defeat.

Reo "lost" to Isagi not because he's unskilled, as he surmised, but simply because he didn't cultivate that hunger. Until now. But this moment, this loss, is what sparks his ego in turn.

And thus, the series tells us, do you have what it takes to keep evolving, devouring other people's play styles and incorporating them in your own, or will you cower, collecting only broken dreams?

[owl-with-a-pen]

So, I have reached the final episode of season 6 of my Supergirl rewatch and I just have to reiterate: they did Nyxly so dirty.

I still don't understand what they were thinking. Nyxly is the first person to pass the Courage Totem's test, she's inundated with empathy from the Humanity Totem, she's completely open with the Truth Totem and is granted access to the Love Totem by choosing the life of a child over her own quest for power.

So, why did they just bung her back in the Phantom Zone!?

It wasn't a satisfying ending, it wasn't even a character arc - it was a circle! She ended up exactly where she started. Sure, Lex's hubris being his own downfall made sense for him, but him being in the second leg of season 6 at all felt so unnecessary that that wasn't satisfying, either.

Here's how I like to imagine this story arc going, because I'm never going to have the time or energy to do anything with this idea besides writing it down like this:

So, we've got Humanity, Hope, Courage, Dreams, Love, Truth and Destiny. 7 Totems. 7 Super Friends. Say, each Totem was tied specifically to a member of the Super Friends and so we're given an episode per Totem exploring a member of the team and their unique relationship to what that core element represented for them. (They sort of did this in the show but only for a couple of the Totems and they never really committed to it as a theme).

Narratively speaking, the Super Friends are working together to beat the trials, which is exactly what a superhero team should be all about. Together, they represent the best the planet has to offer.

Except, that's not the point of the trials. To gather the AllStone, you have to do it alone. And who's doing it alone? Nyxly. Nyxly bares her soul to these Totems, she gains most of them independently without cheating and the further along she gets into the trials, the more she's able to overcome the very reason for her pain and anger that led her down this path to begin with.

The Super Friends aren't looking for power, that was never their goal, and so of course they aren't playing by the rules to gain it, they're doing it in a way that everyone equally shares a part of the burden and so the effect isn't as intense. For Nyxly, though, by gaining all 7 Totems and going through those associated trials, I like to think that by the end of her arc, she willingly gives up that power.

And maybe that's the whole point of the AllStone. Only someone worthy of power should gain it, and the only people worthy of power are the ones that don't want it. The AllStone isn't meant to be a weapon or even a tool used by an individual, it's supposed to be for the whole world to share. And so the very mechanics of the trial will either fail those corrupted by their thirst for power long before they get a taste, or teach someone the true values of their own humanity by fairly passing every test.

I know the show wanted to go out with a bang and a big-stakes CGI battle with all the trimmings, but Nyxly was never designed as a villain. She was hurt and angry, but that never made her evil. She was a fifth dimensional imp, all she ever did was cause mischief, and so having her face her own reality through the trials would have been a major grounding factor for her.

To have the final villain of the show willingly give up their power not because it was beaten out of them, but simply because they decided to feels right to me. They built up the stakes so high in this season to make Nyxly out as the most powerful villain they'd ever faced -- and so maybe the only way to beat her was for her to decide that the fight was no longer worth fighting.

I dunno, it just would've been nice if the AllStone had actually meant something at the heart of it, and that Nyxly actually had a satisfying end to her story that made sense for her character.

Oh well. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[oathkeeperoxas]

If you're taking more SaintSpy kiss prompts: 57. Indirect kiss?

Thank you very much! Some early, early days flirting below; they're still feeling each other out <3

57. Indirect kiss

“Do you come here often?”

Ethan doesn’t do anything as gauche as freeze. He doesn’t turn around, either. But he does start scanning the people in front of him, who is sitting where, how many people are between him and an exit, what he might be able to use as a weapon or a tool, if the situation depends on it.

“I suppose that depends,” Ethan says, to fill the air and give himself time to think. “Do you?”

He’s seen his thief a few times over the last few months, sometimes in the most unexpected of places, and sometimes in locales that simply made sense. Yeah, of course his thief was attempting to steal the ruby brought out for display that was worth over three million dollars, just as Ethan’s team had been sent in to take it to use as a bribe (and then maybe return it afterwards, if they can). Yeah, of course he was in Bolivia – just to run into Ethan and smile that smile of his, lips curving at the edges like he knows more than Ethan does. It really pisses him off. He’s attractive, and knows it, and uses it, and Ethan should be better than to fall for it.

His thief chuckles. They’re standing in line together, and something is happening at the counter – an older man is giving the poor barista a piece of his mind. Ethan doesn’t have much attention to pay for that. His focus is fixed behind him, where his thief is standing. How did he get there without Ethan noticing? Ethan had known that a person had stepped into line behind him, but he had thought it was another member of the public, not his thief.

Not that he’s on the lookout for his thief, or anything like that. But the man is dangerous, and Ethan needs to be alert for danger.

“I’m only anywhere for as long as I need to be,” his thief says. “What about you?”

“Right now, I need to be in this line long enough to get an adequate amount of caffeine in me,” Ethan says, deciding that it doesn’t matter if his thief knows that about him.

“Hmm,” he hums. “Long night? Or early morning?”

Both, but that’s none of his business. “Why do you need to be here?” Ethan asks instead of answering, challenging him. Ethan’s workplace is two blocks from here – his thief has far less of a reason to be standing in this line than Ethan does.

“Can’t a man try a new café?” his thief asks easily.

“In general, yes,” Ethan says. “You? I doubt it.”

“I don’t always have an ulterior motive for everything that I do,” his thief says. The man at the front of the line finally moves away, and the rest of the people in the shop let out a small breath of relief. “Sometimes our most important goal in life must be seeking out new pleasures.”

Ethan swallows. Thinks about lips on his cheek, his mouth on a neck. Still doesn’t look behind him.

“Is that what this is?” Ethan asks, daring to wonder.

“Of course,” his thief says. “I already told you. I’m here to try a new café.”

Ethan keeps his eyes fixed on the menu. “And you happened to choose this one. While I’m also here.”

“Isn’t it strange, how these things work,” his thief murmurs. The hair on the back of Ethan’s neck prickles. He’s moved in closer, close enough that they’re almost touching. “Coincidence can be so funny.”

“I don’t believe in coincidences,” Ethan says. “Not when it comes to you.”

His thief laughs again. “You flatter me.”

They’ve reached the front of the line. Ethan orders a cappuccino. Just as he’s about to pull out his wallet, his thief hangs off his arm and bats his eyes at the frazzled barista. “A latte, three shots.”

Ethan doesn’t say anything when she flicks her eyes to him, and pays for both coffees.

“You know, I actually remember you getting away with upwards of five hundred thousand euro the last time I saw you,” Ethan remarks casually as they peel off to the waiting area. “Pretty sure you can afford your own drinks.”

“Why do that when I can take advantage of you and the American government?” his thief asks,  lifting an eyebrow. “You don’t earn a fortune by spending it.”

“I don’t think that you never spend any of it,” Ethan asks, trailing his eyes over him. Now that they’re standing side by side, he has the opportunity to look. His thief is wearing a branded suit shirt, tailored slacks, and polished shoes. He fits in perfectly with the other corporate workers here, except for the look in his eyes. No, that’s something completely unique to him there.

“I spend it on useful things,” the thief clarifies.

“And this isn’t useful?” Ethan asks.

“I’m discovering if this place is nice,” the thief sniffs. “If it isn’t, I hardly want to give them money.”

“I don’t think that’s how this works,” Ethan says wryly.

“It is for me,” he says. Simple. He lives life by his own rules. Ethan tries to imagine what that would look like for himself, and comes up with nothing. He works. That’s what matters.

Their two coffees arrive. Ethan sets about downing his with a dedication that only the uncaffeinated can understand. His thief watches him. Neither of them move.

“I am quite capable of doing two things at once,” he says. “Perhaps coincidence isn’t the right word to use here, after all.”

Ethan tenses. His thief passes him a folder subtly, taking a long sip of his coffee as he does. Ethan shoves it inside his jacket, not taking his eyes off him.

“What is it?” he asks.

“Something that you might find useful,” his thief says vaguely. “Sometimes, bigger is better.” He shifts so he’s looking at Ethan out of the corner of his eye. “And I’m interested to see what you do with it.”

A challenge. Ethan’s nose flares, and he focuses in on him, the way he’s holding himself, how he’s perched against the table, how his eyes track Ethan’s every movement.

“I’ll be waiting,” he says, and slips between two people, and is gone.

Ethan waits for another five minutes, but he doesn’t come back. He ends up drinking the triple shot abandoned latte too, and it does a world of good for him. He can’t stop thinking about his thief. About the information tucked into his jacket, and the sharp look in his eyes. I’m interested to see what you do with it. 

Ethan’s good at recognising orders, no matter how they come. Alright then. Let’s see what you’ve got.

He drains the final drops of the latte, his lips where the thief’s had been. If that had been a question, Ethan is more than ready to answer.

Send me a kiss for saintspy May 😘

[187days]

Day Seventeen

The ninth grade English teachers recently had students choose an image of themselves and write one-page personal narrative about it. They made a display out of string and clothespins, printed everyone's pieces in color, and hung them on the display. It's SO cool, and so much better than white walls. I took a "five minute field trip" with my second section of Global Studies so we could look at their work. They were all talking about wanting to find theirs when they came into class, so I figured we should just do that to start with.

Then they- and the students in my other two sections- used today's class to finish putting together their geography projects and practice presenting them. The practice went the best in my third section; groups actually made notecards, went out into the hall to practice (I stood in the doorway so I could see them). and so on. In the other two sections, it was less extensive and far more reluctantly done, but I was able to show a few students that it was beneficial because they were able to correct their pronunciation, get comfortable reading some of the larger numbers that might've tripped them up, and things like that.

Whether they practiced or not, though, I'm looking forward to their presentations. It's been a while since I've done a group project like this with freshmen, so it's been a learning experience for me as well as for them, and I think it's been a good one.

In APGOV, I was back at the front of the room- after days of project work, presentations, and guests- to begin the first unit of the actual AP curriculum: foundations of American democracy. I called students' attention back to the lessons we'd done on in the first couple days of school about the years leading up to the Revolutionary War. Then I showed a Crash Course episode on the subject, asked questions to review their knowledge of the Declaration of Independence, and lectured on the task our Founders had to form a government once the Declaration had been signed. They're supposed to read the Articles of Confederation and US Constitution by Monday (we have a guest speaker tomorrow), so this lesson is segueing into the next one really obviously.

What else?

I screwed up a bit, but it's not totally my fault. I've always moved the tables in my room around for various activities, but their default layout is rows. A teacher trick I learned years ago to ensure they got put back into those rows correctly was to mark their placement on the floor with a sharpie. I've done it for years, but we've got a new Head of Maintenance this year, and he came in to fix a busted lightbulb, saw the marks, and made the custodian assigned to my hallway clean them. I found out and apologized immediately; it had just never been an issue before! The custodian told me not to worry about it because he's super nice, but still.

I also had a couple meetings today, and I think I handled those well. It's Thursday, so, of course, we had a PLC meeting in the morning; we spent it discussing some upcoming events and directives from the leadership team, then filling out the professional goals paperwork we're required to do each year. And, during my prep, I had a less formal meeting with Dean 1 about the challenges the new teachers are facing. There's nothing extraordinary, it's all typical new teacher stuff, but he wanted my thoughts on what would be most helpful.

And, as longtime readers know, one thing I'm rarely shy about is giving my thoughts. It's good to have admins who appreciate that trait!

[artisplatters]

Splatzone's Story

oc/self-insert/neo 3. They are one and the same in this universe

Plain Text:

I woke up in the undersea metro sometime in 2019... I barely remembered anything about my old life... not even my own name, like many before me. I was designated as 'Subject 13113'... the 3,105th to escape after an 'Agent 8' had eliminated the threat that was awaiting octolings like me trying to escape and find new life on the surface..... After a lifetime of darkness and fear, I found myself in the middle of 'Inkopolis Square'... a beautiful, colorful, safe space. I was scared, only 14 at the time, and I couldn't speak a lick of Inklish, so I didn't have any way to communicate... but, I was still welcomed with open arms by most people. The years passed by, I grew as they did. I got my own place, made a couple friends, and I was able to get a job at a start-up called 'Grizz Co.' But even though I should've been happy and content.... I wasn't. I dealt with anxiety and depression daily... Living on the surface wasn't as ideal as I thought it would be. It was still lightyears better than below the surface, but it wasn't the 'fix-all' I hoped it would be.

I just ignored the feelings. Instead, I focused on other things. I got a piercing. Then two. Then, uh... eight. I also tried a bunch of different hairstyles. ... some were.... better than others.

I found Lil' Buddy Well, more he found me... He bit on and would not let go until I caved and brought him home. Around this time is when Splatsville started getting popular. More and more Inkfish began moving there, to the point that the Turfwar Bureau re-opened the official hub there. The Square is my home, nothing will change that... but, I figured it'd be good to explore more of what the world had to offer.

So, I packed my things... and I moved. Even if I had changed my mind, the trains broke down shortly after I arrived in Splatsville, so I kinda had no choice.... and BOY was it different from the Square!

It was... is... an insanely amazing place. So many different sights and smells and sounds... Wayyyy different than the Square. Really the only thing I don't like is the heat. But that can easily be forgotten with one of those drinks from the Lobby... which come in bags! They're like little burst-bombs of flavorful refreshment! I, ah, I'm getting off topic...

After that, well... I'm actually pretty sure I'm not supposed to share this, but let's just say life seems to just keep getting crazier and crazier... You're all welcome, by the way.... er, for no particular reason... I played in splatfests, made even more friends (who are way, way cooler than me), and even took up making music in my free time, in addition to digital art... and, uh, programming.... maybe I should cool it on the creative endeavors....

And now, suddenly, I'm almost 20. "Past, Present, or Future?" That's the theme of... probably the biggest splatfest in history. All three teams are valid options, I believe. But I already know which one I'm choosing. The Present. I know, I know, so many people are only choosing it because Off the Hook are repping it. That's not why I'm choosing it, though. ... Well, not the main reason, at least, OtH are my favorite artists though. The Past is murky and unpleasant to think about. The Future is bright, but uncertain, always changing. The Present... that's what's most important to me. It's the intersection. We learn from the Past, to work towards a better Future, right in the Here and Now.

I have spent so much time aching over the past, what my old life was... lamenting the things I can't remember, and regretting the things I do. I've spent just as much time anxiously worrying about what will happen in the future. To me, to my friends, to the world... But in the present, I can do things. Change things. I can heal and laugh and breathe. And I'm trying to do just that. I'm finally starting to address those bad feelings I've been bottling up for so long. Yeah, it's no swim in the ink, but I'm finally feeling... Alive. Happy. Content. And about damn time, ha!

I don't know what life has in store for me, but I know this: I am going to live every single moment of it. Thank you Everyone

End Plain Text

...

This comic is a loosely hidden story of my life for the last 6-ish years. Yeah there's stuff edited around because it's also meant to be the story of my insert/oc/neo3, but there's a part of my soul woven into these digital drawings.

Splatoon has meant so much to me, it's helped me through a lot of rough times in my life.

I mean it when I say 'Thank You'. Thank you to this amazing community, thank you to the incredible devs, just... thank you.

Stay fresh ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

[scattered-winter]

wait hang on who are the hot gay boys in that gif set you reblogged

HGLHSIERGLSJDGALKSHGLK i was gonna put the [do you have any idea how little that narrows it down] meme but im pretty sure u mean this one <3 and in any case i will always be down to ramble about the Sillies(tm)

ok so those guys in particular are from the fox procedural called 9-1-1 Lone Star, which is a spinoff of the original 9-1-1 (which just got moved to abc after some Drama that went down so my tag for it is 911 (not fox) lmaoo). but both shows are about first responders (firefighters, paramedics, dispatchers, police) with a particular focus on firefighters. 9-1-1 (the og) is set in LA, and primarily focuses on the 118 firehouse and the firefighters/paramedics there with some other characters in the main cast who work as dispatchers/police officers (the police storylines are more often than not FULL of copaganda which sucks but the main focus is on the firefighters so i'm able to enjoy the rest of the show). 9-1-1 Lone Star is pretty much the same except it's set in austin texas, and is about the 126 firehouse. there are onscreen queer characters in both (in the og there's a married lesbian couple raising a kid, and in lone star there's the aforementioned hot gay boys [one of whom is unfortunately a cop but i swear to GOD i will get him out of there. one day.] and in lone star there's also a trans man and wlw woman in the main cast.) and my favorite thing about these shows is the found family !!! like these are the shows that have endeared firefighter aus to me because they live together and eat meals together and just. the familial/platonic love is So Powerful and it legiterally makes me cry to watch. like there's romance ofc but genuinely it's one of my favorite found family medias to ever exist. its So.

of the two the og is my favorite for a LOT of reasons, but they're both pretty enjoyable !! lone star definitely has more of a comedic tone than og (theyre BOTH funny but lone star doesn't have as many somber intense moments as og does, and they're much more spread out so there's a lot more room for goofy shenanigans. but og still definitely has plenty of those) and the team dynamics in them both are just...ughhh <3333

HOWEVER. lone star has ..... Him...(derogatory)...he's the fire captain and (despite lone star SUPPOSEDLY being an ensemble show with no Main Character) is in fact. the Main Character. and he's the blandest most obnoxious crustiest white man to ever LIVE. he gets most of the storylines and he's constantly propped up by the writing as The Coolest Guy Ever when he's just . not . i hate him so much it's unreal it's soo so unreal (<- biting the bars of my cage) BUT the rest of the team ??? absolutely love them. like i DO love lone star a lot its a great show with great characters and dynamics but it just has. the most annoying guy to ever live front and center when ITS SUPPOSED TO BE AN ENSEMBLE SHOW FEATURING EVERYONE EQUALLY. grr. anyway. og does a much better job of being an ensemble show, and i could not choose a favorite character of the main cast if you held me at gunpoint. angela bassett is there. i am gay. jennifer love hewitt is there. i am very gay. etcetera.

AND SINCE YOU ASKED SPECIFICALLY ABOUT THE LONE STAR GAYS ILL TELL YOU A BIT ABOUT THEM

so one of them is tk strand (firefighter/paramedic, also the son of the Main Character (derogatory). i have many many many thoughts about that. i would probably get gunned down in this fandom if i ever said them aloud.) and the other one is carlos reyes (a private detective TO MEEEEEEEEEEEE but unfortunately fox is full of cowards who refuse to see the truth. they wanna have a gay cop in their show sooo bad </3) and they're kind of the main romance of the show (there Are others ofc but theyre like. The Focus. which is fine ig but i do wish there was more focus on other relationships because in general lone star isnt as good as the ensemble thing as og. but i already complained about that so i digress.)

now they're a fun pair because one of them has been shot, frozen almost to death, and otherwise put into a coma on MULTIPLE occasions. and it's not the guy whose entire job is to get shot at. (the whump in both of these shows.....................absolutely effervescent. im thriving here.) and they have a very fascinating relationship because their personalities fit together really well but they have different ways of coping with shit that kind of tear each other apart a little bit. which is of course terrible for them but incredible for me. and the writing is at times ridiculous. soap opera-esque, even. they're ridiculous. i adore them. they cannot catch a god damn break and i love that for them even more. <3

[tobiasdrake]

Into the Tower of Antsudlo to face our kinda shitty destinies.

So it turns out it's a jetstream, not a portal. I'm disappointed.

This is it. I hope the door that no one could open wasn't this one because it just took two baps with the Coral Hammer on the Coral Bells nearby to budge it. The Docarri build the Coral Bells. Surely they meant something else.

Alright team, let's make camp here at this inexplicably flammable lumber pile half-submerged in water.

So. That sucked and I hated it. We all got put through the ringer on that trip. Except you, Garl, because even total dickweeds can't bring themselves to be mean to you. You're a cinnamon roll. Keep doing what you're doing.

Key takeaway is that we're going to fucking die. That's a downer. But we knew that already so it's not that much of a downer, right? ...right?

...

I'm going to bed in my soggy bedroll. Good talk, everyone.

...that actually means a lot to me.

Okay, maybe we've got this. You aren't even supposed to be here and that means you might be able to change things up! We've got this!

Do you think the Docarri come here and leave all this pottery? There's a bunch of jars and stuff that's definitely not naturally occurring.

No, wait. Obviously the tower isn't naturally occurring, so the pottery may have been left behind by whoever built this structure to begin with.

Sorry, I'm still a bit shaken up.

I'm sure this is fine. We were probably meant to do this, right? Completely normal method of transportation.

SHIT THAT'S THE DOOR

Probably! It's a door, but it looks important! Guys! Break the pipe! Do something! Don't let it pass us by! GUYS.

You guys are fucking useless.

Except you, Garl. You're my bestie.

And you, Serai. We adore you and we're glad you're with us, regardless of whatever might be going on with you.

Zale, I give you a lot of shit but you're pretty cool too.

Everyone else here is fucking useless.

THE DOOR

Great work, team. We all pulled together and made it through. See, Zale? I told you we didn't need to resort to petty vandalism to get here but no, you wouldn't listen to me.

What are we, thugs or something?

Now, this looks much more like an ancient door sealed away that no one has ever crossed through. Look at those markings. There's something almost spiritual about this place. Teaks could probably spend a lifetime examining these carvings.

Well, that's not much of an obstacle. Garl, you still got those pressure cooker bombs of yours?

Just because I deserved this, that doesn't mean I can't be mad about it. Remember me as I was. Crying and shrieking obscenities that can't be published in most sections of this library at the World Eater as it swallows me whole.

Why didn't it open? Aren't we supposed to be children of fate or some shit? Defective-ass fucking prophet gave us some defective-ass prophecies. "You are the Chosen; Go to the door that only opens for the Chosen WHOOPS IT DOESN'T FUCKING OPEN I GUESS I'M LYING."

I hope I drowned that fish before we all died.

Oh you're on the other side of the Liar Door. That's fantastic. Hang on a sec... Zale, give me those papers I gave you. Yeah, the ones we wrote out during training.

Right. Here we go. Ahem.

This here's a court summons. I will expect to see you in the courthouse at Mirth, right after we build one, so that we can settle the matter of false advertisement.

Awfully informal. Are you coming with us? There's still room in Garl's backpack if you want to be Cargo.

Codes are flexible. They're social structures that only exist because we choose to let them. The only power they have is what we pretend they do.

So that's a "Yes you can" but "No you won't".

Guessing that's the true name of the Fleshmancer, then?

Yep, that's the Fleshmancer.

Shot in the dark, have you ever considered solving the Fleshmancer problem with violence?

Alright, I get it. "The consequences would be dire" or whatever.

GARL NO

Love the enthusiasm but please don't let your mouth write checks that I don't know if we can cash. I am not ready to throw hands at the Dweller of Strife's dad. When I suggested violence a moment ago, that was not me volunteering our services.

Well, the Chosen Ones door wouldn't open for us and we're failing at our prophecies. So. Probably not. I'd say that's a definite no. We are not who all this predestination shit had in mind.

But beggars can't be choosers and I don't care if you're a god or not, those ratty clothes do not imply a man with many options. So we're the best you've got. Deal with it.

Oh, sure. Piece of cake. We live in a tropical paradise so. Y'know. We're definitely equipped to hit up the fucking arctic on a goose chase for a homeless deity who smells of book must and mold.

Oh. Not even going to let us find warmer clothes first. Straight to the arctic.

Okay, but I'm taking three books with me as collateral. If this winds up being a trap and there is no artifact, I'm burning them for warmth.

[orbitingtheson]

5 November 2248

Why do I have to train people to do things that shouldn't require training? My job's easy. I've got a manual, a team of bots, and a checklist. I spend most days wandering around a cargo tender on some transfer orbit or other, ticking boxes on a checklist that all say "yup, the bot sure did what the bot always does" and if I can't tick a box I look up what I'm supposed to do in the manual and then do it. Dead simple. Now there's a million little things that make it easier and smoother and make it harder for me to miss something, but those aren't things I can teach another person. The job is go down the checklist, make sure you can check everything off, and look up what to do if you can't. Takes less time to learn than it took me to type this. I have to spend the next week an a half training someone. And I can just about garauntee they won't be able to do it by the end of the week. Or ever. So that's my real question. Why were humans invented? They're useless. -Training day

To those of you reading at home, my editor chose this question out of several dozen that showed up over the course of a week. They had one job. Choose a question. And this is not a question. But I'll still treat it like one.

The simplest jobs are never simple. Your job in training isn't to tell someone how to read and follow a checklist, it's to make some twitchy pile of nerves who's never worked unsupervised before confident enough to go through a whole shift's worth of work on their own without giving up, getting distracted, cutting corners, or annoying your employer with an endless stream of questions.

And I have no idea how you're supposed to do that.

Good luck.

[thisbluespirit]

Sapphire, Silver and Steel for the character meme, please.

Oh and Harry & Ruth, too, if you feel like it! 💙

Thank you! <3

1. Who would you rather swap aesthetics/outfits with for a day?

Okay, well, this time I'll have the sparkly waistcoat!!

2. Who do you team up with in a 2v2 volleyball match? Which side wins?

Silver. I suspect that Sapphire and Steel will win in this (obviously life or death) game, but who else?

3. If each of them got one million dollars, who would waste/spend their money the fastest?

They are all looking at this question. It does not apply to them.

However, if for some reason they had to dispose of 1 million dollars each because it was, maybe, Evil Money, Silver would be fastest, because that's Silver's nature. More confetti!

4. Who would die first in a horror movie? Who would be the survivor?

Silver. Sapphire and Steel would both survive. To be honest, all three of them would probably make it. They exist in permanent horror movie land and they're all still around. Even after things we shan't mention, they were still surviving.

5. They're all on the run from the law! What crimes did each commit and who is most likely to get caught?

lol. Again, not applicable, and none of them will be caught unless they want to be caught or it somehow happens temporarily because time has sort of made people think they've committed crimes in the middle of an assignment.

Crimes are something they leave to humans. If they committed a crime by their standards, they'd be on the other side, and all three of them have personally turned that proposition down already.

For Harry & Ruth:

1. You have to choose one to erase from their series! Who do you pick?

Look, if I pick Ruth, I'm not watching any more. If I pick Harry, there probably is no Spooks anyway. I'll pick Harry because I feel sure somehow he'd come back. Ruth would manage it at any cost, even without memory of him. She just would.

2. Who would you rather run into in a dark alley at night?

Ruth Evershed! At least there are significantly better odds on my not being assassinated next.

3. Who would you save from a burning building? Who would be more likely to save you from a burning building?

Ruth! I mean, if Harry wasn't there already. And for the other way around, Harry, I think, probably? He was once a field officer.

Mind you, it's Spooks. The odds are I'd probably burn to death tragically in the bomb that detonated before they could stop it.

4. Who would win in a dance-off?

Good question. This is a scenario they would avoid, but I feel Harry would win. But you never know with Ruth. She has hidden depths, likes performing and it doesn't pay to underestimate her.

Best to just enter a dancing competition undercover as partners and stay in via spy tricks.

5. They swap bodies for 24 hours! How badly do they mess up (or improve) each other's lives?

Ruth would probably pull off a reasonably good Harry impression for a day, although she would look at loads of Eyes Only documents she shouldn't be looking at, and she would have to go through a full half hour of panicking first. If she had to make the tough decisions, I think she'd actually be much better than usual, because she likes acting, so once in character as 'Harry' she'd probably just go for it, but it could go either way. Could be fine, could be the end of the world.

Harry OTOH would struggle with not being able to bark orders at people without everyone staring, everyone expecting him to be the sympathetic one and being supposed to know how all the computer systems work, and he's better at dry wit and assassinating his enemies than doing the weekly round up report.

Ruth would have to cover for him a lot.

Alternatively, they just come in, carry on with their respective usual roles while looking like each other and let the rest of Section D worry about what the hell is going on and then tell them all it was a psych test, and at least one of them failed.

However it goes, I don't think anybody's life is improved.