#including ones without sports branding

[pazzispizookies]

— — Guarded — —

Hey y’all 😏 bet you weren’t expecting me to start a new series, but I’ve been dying to read a series with this plot so i was just like, let me write it lol. Anyways don’t worry “dangerous question” is still going to be coming out!! I’m just doing 2 series at once, but please tell me how you like this first chapter! Love you guys and thanks for the support<3.

This is a au where azzi has transferred to Hopkins!the teammates are the ones from UConn ofc ofc.

Enjoy!

Materlist!!

It was the first day of school, everyone at Hopkins high school was buzzing with anticipation for the the pep rally.

“Paige cmon!!” Jana shouts from the locker room door.

The main sports teams including basketball, football and soccer were all apart of the pep rally.

It was where they introduced the teams and their jersey numbers, just a little tradition at the school.

After this, normal pep rally things would commence, like games, speeches and performances.

It was Paiges sophomore year, she had exploded in popularity over the past year, her freshman season debuting her as a star,

She already had offers from some D1 schools, but not the one she wanted; UConn.

Her dream was to go to UConn, it was the best women’s basketball program in the world, but yet she hasn’t heard anything from them.

Shaking from her thoughts her head, she walks into the locker room to get changed, “Guys im so excited for the season!! But did you hear there’s a new girl coming in? she apparently had a private tryout with coach.” Kk said, buzzing with energy as usual,

“What? Who?” Paige demanded, she hadn’t heard anything of a new girl coming to her basketball team, especially not one who got a private tryout.

“Chill P no ones taking your spot, even though I did hear she was a guard….” Kk says training off in a teasing tone.

another guard? On her team? Who could even compete for Paige’s spot, she took a deep breath to regain her confidence.

she was the best on the team, no doubt. Even though she loved her teammates, and they were all amazing, she was the star and everyone knew it.

So really, she didn’t have anything to worry about, even though the thought of getting replaced was floating around in the back of her mind.

“Hey guys jerseys are here!” Caroline shouted from the other side of the locker room,

they had gottten brand-new Jerseys this year, ones with last names on them.

The girls all cheered and ran over to the pile of shirts and shorts.

Everyone started grabbing their jerseys and making comments on how pretty and nice they were, and they were, they were Nike, royal blue, sleeveless classic uniforms.

“Look P, it’s so pretty!” Kk says bouncing up and down holding out her shirt which had her name “Arnold” proudly.

Paige shakes her head and scoffs at her friend’s antics, she starts to look for her number 1 jersey.

Suddenly her hands stumble upon something,

“Uh guys, whats this?” she says pulling up a number 35 jersey labeled “Fudd”

The girls glance around at each other, sharing looks of confusion-

“Uh, I guess the rumors were real P,” Kk says, a little cautiously.

Panic shoots thorugh Paige’s mind.

There was a new girl on the team, her team.

Who played the same position as her, and was good enough to make the team without even coming to normal tryouts.

“Oh, yeah I guess.’ She says placing the shirt back into the pile.

She finally pulls out her jersey, It looks better then she could’ve imagined-the last name across the back, the number 1; it reminds her that even if a new payer comes in, she’s still Paige Beuckers.

“Ladies!! Can I come in?” The sound of their coach echos out from the door.

“Yeah!” Paige shouts back, looking around to make sure all of her teammates were clothed,

When their Coach walks in and sees all the new uniforms he compliments them saying “It’s gonna be a good season.”

He’s more chipper than his usual serious demeanor.

“Coach, whats up with you? You look like you just won the lottery,” Ice says with a snicker, picking up on his strange behavior as well,

“Well ladies, you have a new teamate, a transfer, who im sure you’ve all seen highlights of. But I think this year she’s gonna be deadly. Were lucky she moved here unepxtectly, she had offers from some serious schools, she’s already verbally commmited to UConn.” He says practically buzzing.

“UConn? What??” Paige says, her mind racing with who this could be, and how could they have gotten a scholarship when she hasn’t.

“yeah, speaking of, I came in here to grab her jersey, she’s gonna be walking out at the pep rally today,”

“What?? Where is she?” Paige says, concern lacing her voice instead of excitement.

“Chill Paige, she’s in the main office fixing some things with her schedule, you guys will meet her soon enough,” He says walking back with the number 35 jersey in hand.

Her claps paige on the shoulder speaking one last time before leaving, “You two will be a force on the court, you better keep up with her.”

Keep up with her?

Please, hopefully whoever this mysetery girl is can keep up with their Jv team.

“Oooooo Paige has some competition!!” Kk says laughing with ice.

the girls all laugh but Paige doesn’t find it funny, the feeling of anger coursing thorugh her, “shut up, we both know ill be better then her”

“Is a cat fight incoming?” Aubrey snickers leaning on Caroline.

Paige groans and sits down on the bench,

Her thoughts racing, who is this?

And was she a threat?

****

The crowd roars with excitement-

Hopkins was pretty big school, so the bleachers were packed.

All of the boys basketball team had done there introductions now it was time the girls.

They were in a huddle behind the doors, the gym lights dimmed and blue strobe lighting shinning all around, they pretty much turned the gym into a club.

“All right y’all! This is it!!! LETS GOO!” Kk says into the huddle clapping her hands hyping up the team.

They started cheering and hear the announcer begin.

“Ladies and gentlemen now we give a warm welcome to the head coach of the Hopkins girls basketball team… 5 time state championship winner… Mitchell James!!!” The crowd roared, the girls laughed at their coach running out, hyping up the crowd.

Excitement was running through Paige, she was buzzing with adrenaline.

She felt like she was on cloud 9, she was prepared to give her all to basketball this year.

her teammates continued to clap, all ready to run out into the dark blue room filled with their peers,

The announcer started to speak again, his voice even more excited than it was before.

Paige was up first, of course she was, she was number 1, and the star.

She was hyped to say the least, preparing to burst out into the room…

“NOW TURN YOUR ATTENTION TO THE TUNNEL WHERE WE WELCOME STAR SOPHMORE GUARD STANDING AT 6 FOOT….PAIGE……BUCKETS….BUECKERS!!!!!”

The crowd bursted into the loudest they had been all day.

Paige jogged out waving and shaking her head—the song she choose to play ‘California love’ was blaring adding to the environment,

She couldn’t hear anything expect the screams and the bass of the music, but looking around the crowd was eating her up.

She turned around jogging blowing kisses to the crowd and holding a hand to her ear, with that the crowd roared even more which was practically impossible.

She took her place in the middle of the gym when the announcer shouted over the still cheering crowd to welcome in KK,

“NEXT WE WECOME IN FRESHMAN GUARD… STANDING AT 5 FOOT 9… KK..ARNOLD!!!!”

KK came out bouncing waving her hands up, the crowd already hyped from Paige and was screaming their heads off as KK started dancing,

She was the life of the party, probably the most fun person on the team, but she pulled it off like no other, keeping everyone’s spirits high.

The announcer was pretty much screaming at this point, where he welcomed in the rest of the team.

Once they got to Aubrey, the whole team was standing in the middle, the crowd screaming there heads off,

But then the voice of the announcer rang over again.

“AND LADIES AND GENTLEMEN THATS NOT ALL…..WE HAVE A NEW STAR SHARP SHOOTER HERE AT HOPKINS HIGH….3 TIME OLYMPIC GOLD MEDALIST….STEPH CURRY PROTEGEE….”

The blue strobe lights dimmed and a spot light shined right on the tunnel, focusing everyone’s attention to it once again.

Paige’s mind was racing, she had forgot all about the new player, but her creditals sounded familiar, as impressive as they were.

Her team was looking at each other on the dark court, some puzzled and some excited.

Then with the doors opened and the voice started again,

“WELCOME TO HOPKINS…. FIVE FOOT ELEVEN GUARD……NUMBER 35……..AZZI….FUDDDDD!!!!”

The crowd shot up even more, cheering as loudly as they could, people falling and holding their phones out to record.

Azzi came walking slowly out of the tunnel with a easy confidence, she had on her number 35 jersey, her head held high, waving to the people with a smile that seemed to blind eyes,

Paiges mind went blank expect for one thing.

Azzi fucking Fudd.

Oh shit.

[milykins]

Living on the Surface for the First Time

This HC is from my Bayverse turtles living above the surface as themselves AU. They don’t really have any enemies to worry about anymore because they all deserve happiness and a chance to live without having to hide.

This idea basically came about from Tumblr conversations, thank you! You know who you are, I tried to include as much as I could!

TW: None!

Mikey

It’s not about admiring the ladies or trying to find a potential girlfriend when Mikey and his brothers begin living among the humans.

He just wants to have fun and get to do human stuff!

It’s the mundane tasks that we take for granted every day that bring him joy at first.

It’s going grocery shopping and picking out every type of cereal he’s never had the chance to try.

He ends up in the kitchen sitting around fifteen open boxes of cereal, a half-gallon of milk and several empty bowls.

He revels at the chance to be able to enter into a comic book store and buy actual new comics. No more dirty, old, or used comics for him. He realizes that this is what he wants to do with his life: sell comics and make others happy by embracing their inner nerd/geek.

Getting tickets to a baseball game with his brothers is another thing he’d always wanted to do.

Mikey catches the flyball with his bare hand as if it were no big deal and gets the pitcher to sign it.

Mikey’s eyes shine as people cheer and treat him like a normal person who deserves to be there.

He and his brothers go to NYCComicCon! As themselves! He has the greatest time greeting fans, signing stuff and taking pictures.

Again, it's the simple things that he enjoys. Walking around in broad daylight just because he can, chatting it up with anyone willing to talk to him.

Ordering a street hotdog with every possible topping you can get and taking a bite like it’s the most amazing thing he’s ever tasted.

He’s even happy to learn boring stuff like putting out garbage and recycling and taxes.

He makes real, actual friends with humans, gaining acceptance has been his dream for a long time.

Mostly, he’s just happy to finally be able to enjoy the sun, skateboard, and go sit at the duck pond in Central Park.

He finally understands it’s about the little things.

Raph

When Raph begins to live on top, it’s not all that glamorous at first. He decides to try living a normal life, including using transit for the first time, eventually getting his license, and driving a car.

He initially regrets his choice after being stuck in a packed subway car or rush-hour traffic, but eventually comes around.

One of the first things he does is go to his favourite restaurant, a steakhouse, with his brothers. He’d always wanted to go there.

Getting tickets to the Knicks again, but this time he gets to sit in an actual seat.

The seats might be a little tight, but he doesn’t care. No more hiding in the jumbotron for him.

It's pretty nice to be able to order a beer and hotdog from the vendors like a normal person.

Going grocery shopping for him is kind of hilarious.

He stands at the juice display for at least ten minutes, unsure of which brand to pick. He’d never had a choice before; it was whatever they could grab or salvage.

It finally clicks in that he really can get whatever he wants so he picks three kinds of juice.

He experiences the nightlife for the first time, going to a comedy club, or a sports bar with Casey.

Going to an actual gym and making gym buddies who all want to learn his workout regimen and techniques.

Buying furniture for his place and lying on beds in a mattress store.

He’s never had a new mattress in his life and sinking into all that plush is heavenly.

Having new things, not old, busted, or scrapped together, is such a foreign concept to him that he almost feels like he’s not supposed to have nice things.

He goes to a craft store and is presented with wall-to-wall options. Every kind of yarn in every colour, all the knitting supplies he could possibly want.

He’s honestly a bit lost and overwhelmed until a kind, old woman moves to assist him.

After accepting her help, she invites him to join her knitting circle, and he actually goes.

Once it all sinks in, it’s not so bad, he decides. He could get used to this.

Don

Donnie has big dreams of living above the surface. He wants to help people and make the world a better place, but first, he starts small.

He goes to a computer store for the first time ever and chooses parts for himself.

Leo goes with him and promptly loses him in the store for an hour.

He finds him assisting and advising other customers in their purchases much to the annoyance of the actual employees.

He goes to every museum and art gallery in the city, even the children’s museum.

He takes pictures of everything.

Every dinosaur skeleton, statue, mummy, sarcophagus, and even the rocks in the geology section.

He is truly like a kid in a candy store getting to do all of the things he’d never gotten a chance to do.

In true nerdy fashion, the next place on his list would be the library.

He spends hours in this magical place reading as many books as he can.

He gets a library card! After establishing a place to live he’s able to bring proof of residence and can apply for a library card.

Once he gets it, he spends a hot minute admiring the first piece of ID with his name and address on it.

The next step for him is to get his driver’s license.

He and his brothers are probably the only ones excited to be at the DMV.

Donnie is too tall for the car provided by the DMV for the test so they need to use the garbage truck.

Of course, Donnie passes with flying colours, but the same can’t be said for Mikey, who fails the first time and passes on his second try.

Eventually, his dreams do come true, and he starts a company to help people with his inventions.

Leo

He is the hardest to convince of this lifestyle change.

After all, they have everything they need in the sewers, why bother changing all of that to be in the noisy city with all of those people?

That’s when his brother Donnie takes him to a plant nursery for the first time.

His entire outlook changes.

Leo ends up filling his cart with all kinds of plants to start a little greenhouse—not one with artificial light this time, but one with actual sunlight.

Okay, now he’s having fun. He spends weeks constructing this greenhouse with his brother’s help.

Setting it up with all of his plants once it’s completed is quite cathartic to him.

This is when he finally starts to come around and try things.

Of course, he goes to the games with his brothers and has a great time.

He visits a teahouse and experiences a newfound sense of peace and tranquility like he never imagined.

He tries a few restaurants, orders takeout, and quickly realizes that he doesn’t know how to cook anything other than rice.

Cue Leo taking a cooking class and learning how to cook for himself.

He goes to the grocery store to pick ingredients to make his first actual meal from start to finish.

He’s so proud of himself and posts the picture on social media.

He gets such a positive reception that he begins posting all of his meals, gaining a small fanbase.

It takes him some courage to join a local dojo, but he quickly develops a sense of belonging.

He would eventually open his own dojo with their support.

At home, he creates a reading nook for himself by the window in his apartment with the most comfortable chair he’s ever sat in and loves to read when the sunlight streams in at just the right angle.

He also takes the time to create a little zen garden for himself on the same rooftop as his greenhouse.

And Leo, being Leo, still checks in on his brothers to make sure they’re adjusting well to life on the surface.

This includes telling Mikey to remember his reusable bags when he goes to the grocery store, telling Raph what day to bring down his garbage and recycling, and reminding Donnie to eat when he spends eight hours at the library.

He may have taken the longest to convince, but once he’s established a life for himself, there’s no going back to the sewers.

He finds himself wishing he’d done all of this a lot sooner.

Taglist

@danceingfae @thelaundrybitch @iridescentflamingo @redsrooftopprincess @ninnosaurus

@the-cauldron-witch @thepinkpanther83 @avery73 @adebauchedsloth @sophiacloud28

@definitely-canon @scholastic-dragon @truffle-reblogs @fyreball66 @yorshie

Please let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

[taylorswiftstyle]

Chiefs vs Bills | Kansas City, MO | January 26, 2025

Louis Vuitton 'Monogram Jacquard Knit Jacket' - $5,000.00 Louis Vuitton 'LV Spark Beanie' - $550.00 Steven Battelle 'Ancient Coin Necklace' - price varies Louis Vuitton 'Trunk Chain Wallet' - $2,850.00 Louis Vuitton 'Le Damier de Louis Vuitton Small Ring' - $3,950.00 Louis Vuitton 'Le Damier de Louis Vuitton Medium Bracelet' - $18,500.00 Cartier 'Panthère de Cartier Medium Watch Diamond' - $32,200.00 Louis Vuitton 'LV Medallion Gloves' - $495.00 Calzedonia '50 Denier Tights in Dark Red' - $15.00 Louis Vuitton 'Star Trail Ankle Boot' - $1,760.00

More monogram. Taylor appeared at the AFC Championship game wearing a literal head to toe look (mostly) by Louis Vuitton. Proving that sometimes it does have to be Louis V up in KC.

What I Learned From Those Two Years: Prior to the game I had wondered if last year’s championship outfit might be a playbook (pun intended) for today’s look - knowing that comparisons were bound to happen. I can see the similarities year over year in the oversized top, pleated mini skirt, tights, and boots combination. On the skirt, I’ve been told this is not the same skirt as last year, with thanks to the LV team for the confirmation, and is a slightly older one within the LV catalogue. However, it feels like a close enough of a callback to make the choice seem intentional. Perhaps a way of nodding to superstitions in sport with repeating “lucky” items to bring forth an optimal outcome. Whatever the reason, let’s say that it worked because the Chiefs defeated the Bills 32-29 and are - once again - headed to the Super Bowl.   

When We First Met (Gala): But even without the other LV elements of this look, I clocked these boots right away. Why? Because Taylor has a pair of Star Trail boots that she has worn on two other occasions. The first was the night before the 2016 Met Gala. The second was while out to dinner with Travis in October 2023. After a lot of staring, I can confirm this pair of ‘Star Trails’ are an updated version - discernible by the slightly different finish and the cap toe detail being absent. One of Taylor’s style pillars has always been repetition, so I’ll give half points here given it’s a style we know she has in her closet and has repeated in the past. I can imagine this fresh pair from a later collection was meant to coordinate with the rest of the recent LV pulls. 

Louis V up in KC: When it came to accessories, Louis Vuitton jewelry and bag felt like natural fits. However, knowing that Taylor has a LV watch in her collection that would have coordinated well with her head to toe (literal) branded ensemble feels noteworthy to me. The accessory that felt like it had the most story behind it was her necklace. Taylor has worn a number of vintage coin necklaces recently, including at a few Chiefs games. What immediately came to my mind was her 2024 season opener outfit which was also styled with a vintage, ancient bronze coin necklace. I imagine that something about it feels like embodying a fighting / warrior mindset to fit in with the “go fight win” of sports and the Gladiator ethos. Or else perhaps even a chic reference to a game day coin toss. I spoke with the designer, Steven, who confirmed that the face depicted on the coin, struck in 109-108BC during the Roman Republic, is the goddess Roma. Steven said, “[Roma] was believed to watch over the city’s citizens and protect them from harm, as well as being a fierce defender of Rome in war.” Steven said the necklace took approximately 1.5 days to create by Balinese goldsmith artisans with traditional handmaking techniqes. “The pendant was designed to highlight the coin and accent it in a classical manner,” he said. From an intentional styling perspective, there’s a lot of thought that goes into creating a cohesive and consistent storyline where every look “speaks” to one another to create a progression, but is distinct enough to stand as its own moment. Small callbacks like this (and the skirt - more on that later) demonstrate that thought well. I look forward to doing a full breakdown of this season’s looks (particularly in comparison to 2023-24’s season) when the final whistle blows. This artist uses real ancient coins in their work so every single piece is unique and different. Pictured above is what appears, to my eye, to be a close match to Taylor’s. 

Photo by Jamie Squire via Getty Images

[berracids]

anything w bumblebee pls idc

AN: I love anyone that loves bumblebee so here is a Drabble I like to imagine, I had the bay ver in mind but this could work with any continuity where he doesn’t talk

AN: this could be considered a sequel to other bumblebee HC or as a standalone

Bumblebee’s yapping on mute

Warning: cussing (does that even need a warning?)

Despite Bee not having a voice to word what he wants, he is very much capable of showing it damn well too, and the mech has no problem if it includes throwing servos to prove a point

In which were most of your quarrels with him stem from, is that he is too comfortable into making people learn their lesson through a good ol’ aft whooping

Like when bumblebee spots one of your bullies’s car, he makes it his life’s mission to avenge you, even if you will reprimand him and giving him an hour long lecture on how he could’ve been caught or worse the government could take him away from you and hurt him.

But does the yellow scout yield or back out?, no, he will gut the motor from your bully’s brand new sports car, drive back to your house late at night as he taps on your window with his excited beeping and whirring and treat it like some crumbled paper ball as he plays with it with his pedes as makes sure that you are watching and cheering for him (you are not)

“Bee!, what did you just do?!” You half yelled as you didn’t want to wake up the whole block for screaming at bumblebee at how he just so casually committed vandalism, only to be met with an optic roll and an annoyed beep from him; be tried to excuse himself by playing snippets from the radio that say that he made your bully payback for throwing their sandwich at him when you two were driving casually “yes, I know you did that for me and I appreciate it, but TAKING OUT HIS MOTOR?!, I was planning to egg his car not gut it!”

As you were reprimanding the 15 feet tall robot as you continues to roll his optics and beep at you annoyed as you can feel him saying that your bully did not just disrespect you but he also dirtied his finish, and bumblebee doesn’t let anything of that sorts slide and that you should know that by now, “fine you may be right egging his car isn’t enough, maybe I would have keyed it if you didn’t act on your own!”

Bee then continues to beep and whirr for the next few minutes as you can make out most of what he is saying from his body language and the radio snippets, the scout was grateful to have a human partner like you who understood him even without the radio snippets at least not as much and making him feel heard and acknowledged

That is why bumblebee couldn’t allow anyone to wrong you, what guardian would he be if his duty isn’t protecting you like he is supposed to?, “thank you Bumblebee, I appreciate you going through all that trouble,…truly..” your gratitude reached is audio receptors making him stop in his tracks and press breaks as his blue optics look at your smiley face, he then waves his servo at you while whirring bashfully as he ‘says’ that it is nothing.

The yellow autobot’s servo reaches it’s way to you and wrapping around your torso before placing you gently on the ground as he wastes no time transforming into his vehicle mode and opening the door for you with an excited beep, wanting to go on a quick ride in the middle of the night, Bee chooses a snippet on the radio that tells you to hop in, and you do so, not having the heart to tell bumblebee that you have classes in the early morning and that you won’t be able to sleep before that,

Sleep could come any other time, as long as bumblebee isn’t doing donuts with you inside of him and making you dizzy at 4am in the morning as the sound of screeching tires rack your eardrums

⌗𝗡𝗼𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴/𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴-𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘁𝘆 𝗼𝗳 @berracids

[jp---v]

I don't need to, but I'll explain my Bakugou hate because I want to.

Long post. Beware

When I started reading the series I was the same age as the characters. Looking at my interests you can probably guess that I was bullied, but instead of getting all sad, I got angry at the people treating me poorly.

So as soon as Bakugou was introduced, I didn't like him. Seeing someone my age verbally threaten and physically attacking people without being punished just really put me in a bad mood whenever he showed up.

Then certain parts of the fandom got incredibly toxic, and suddenly the author is pandering to the worst of them

But the problem keeps getting worse. The entire world warps to kiss his ass. He got everything he wanted at every turn. He deserved nothing and got everything.

Immediately established as a long-term bully. His bullying is then retroactively justified by the world itself saying that Midoriya is worth less than Bakugou as a person.

Why did Aizawa, who was famous for expelling students, not so much as give Bakugou detention for trying to attack Midoriya on the first day of school?

Why didn't All Might punish him for using that gauntlet in the Battle Trials?

Despite all of his actions so far, just since being accepted into UA, the other students still want to be friends with him. They actively choose to spend time near him.

Why is it never mentioned how him(and Kirishima) attacking Kurogiri and getting in Thirteen's way is a large part of why the USJ played out how it did?

His speech at the Sports Festival

Everyone wanting to be on his team, but he doesn't know any of their names or quirks.

Trying to make an unconscious Todoroki fight back in the finals

Aizawa constantly excusing all of his behavior, circling back to my point about the world itself justifying Bakugou's shitty behavior

Attacking Midoriya in the Final Exam.

How did Sero fail his exam by being carried out but Bakugou passed?

At the Training Camp, he actively tried to go fight the villains that have openly stated were trying to capture him. Making himself an easy target and hindering the people trying to protect him

During the Rescue Operation he somehow managed to hold his own against the majority of the League of Villains on his own? Really?

He forced Midoriya to break curfew and just starts attacking him until Midoriya fights back. It's caught on camera and Midoriya somehow gets in the same amount of trouble?

And for some reason he gets let in on the secret of One for All after being such a monumental asshole since forever, despite the fact that even Inko doesn't know? Or literally anyone who would be, like, supportive of Midoriya?

He failed the Provisional License Exam, but don't worry there's a special make-up class just for the people that made it into the second half. Everyone who failed in the first half will have to wait for the next exam.

Oh wow, flawless victory in the Joint Training Arc by displaying teamwork out of thin fucking air that was really just him barking orders at the others.

For a while we just get his usual brand of egotistical asshole-ery and now being needlessly shoved into places where Midoriya's actual friends should be. Or even any of the other side characters. Horikoshi, give them some screen time

But then the war arc and the vigilante Deku arc all just get down on their knees to suck his dick so hard that his quirk evolves and his heart explodes. And I finally get a glimmer of hope for the series to finally stop shoving him down our throats, but no.

Edgeshot decides that this one kid is so important that he will sacrifice his own life to save Bakugou specifically and no one else is on his level of importance.

Going back a step; That apology was pure fucking lip service. Not a single goddamn thing changed in the way he acted afterward. He had a couple of "soft" moments when he wasn't actively screaming and cursing, but that's it.

And Horikoshi keeps fucking doing it.

Somehow each and every thing has to include Bakugou or be about how it's effecting Bakugou or has to mention Bakugou.

The majority of the (much more interesting) cast has been completely forgotten, and Midoriya's characterization got taken out back, given three rounds to the head, skinned, washed in bleach, and hung out to dry, but Oh Wow! BAKUGOU'S HERE!

I said it before and I'll say it again, I'd throw a brick at him.

These are only the broadest strokes of what happened too. If I reread the entire series I could write a massive in-depth character analysis, but that's too much even for me.

[delirious-donna]

tw: Barou Shouei x female reader, selfship coded, very self indulgent, hurt/comfort (I needed it), pro footballer Barou, sports physio reader, feelings of inadequacy, mentions of toxic media, Shouei showing that he does have a softer side, fluff, mentions of past sexual escapades... just let me be vulnerable for a minute

You shouldn’t have looked.

It would cause you nothing but pain, and yet you found yourself unable to resist clicking onto the trashy article and scrolling through the lines and lines of lies, exaggerations and pure vindictive speculation.

It was par for the course when you were dating a world-famous footballer, but it didn’t make it any easier.

There were several candid photos of you and Barou leaving a restaurant; his arm around your waist, hand secure on your hip whilst he guided you towards his car, and your head lowered to shield you from the attention of the awaiting paparazzi. Another series of photos were of Barou alone, including one of his official headshots and some live action shots from his latest match.

A timid smile curved your lips, one finger touching over his face on the screen. You were on the sidelines that day, watching from the dugout as part of the official team staff, with your heart in your mouth for the entire 90 minutes.

It wasn’t easy being known as the team’s physio when the relationship between the two of you had been exposed. That was nearly a year ago now, and despite offering your resignation—you wanted to be with Shouei more than you wanted to keep your current position—the higher ups had refused. They allowed you to date their star player without risk to your career. Something about him having a partner mellowing him out or whatever.

The media took to the juicy gossip of a workplace romantic scandal like hungry piranhas, but once it was obvious that there were no repercussions, they grew bored and turned their contempt towards you. They wouldn’t have a bad word to say about their golden boy, their king, but you… you were another matter altogether and they hated to see a woman happy.

Renowned sports physio is losing her touch.

Spate of injuries rocks the football world.

Star striker slumming it with plain jane.

Each new headline hurt. They attacked your professionalism, your dating history, your personality and your appearance. Today it was the latter.

Apparently you weren't the right choice for a man of Shouei's level. You didn't dress in designer clothing, you didn't teeter about in high heels or wear make up every time you stepped outside your front door, you didn't affiliate with luxury brands or promote products on social media.

You were not pretty enough.

Too plain.

Too boring.

Tears blurred your vision until the words jumbled together and became completely unreadable. You sniffled into the cuff of your sweatshirt sleeve as doubt started to fill your mind with the worst thoughts imaginable. Maybe they were right. Maybe it would be for the best if you called it quits here.

The bedroom door opened at that moment, and you jumped as if caught red-handed. Shouei walked in from the bathroom, towel wrapped around his hips and hair damp and loose around his shoulders. He wiped a small hand towel against his head at the same time you dabbed furiously at your eyes, snapping shut the laptop and shoving it across the bed.

“What’s wrong?” he asked instantly, his ruby eyes narrowing on you to examine your face whilst you did your best to hide from him. There was a gruffness to his question, but in the next heartbeat he was padding close to tilt your face up, concern evident in his expression.

“Are you crying? Who do I need to kill?”

It was an attempt at humour, and you appreciated it, even though it made your sobs return even louder and harder. Your shoulders rose and fell with them, the misery eating you alive from the inside.

“Hey,” he said. Shouei sat beside and touched your shoulder, you could feel the heat from the shower through his palm and roughened fingers. Tenderly, he reached around until he could pull you across his lap to sit on the towel. It was dry and smelled of his body wash and shampoo. “Talk to me.”

It was a request, not a demand. Your nose rubbed at his broad shoulder; eyes shuttered as if that would somehow block out the emotions. His skin was smooth and peppered in small sun freckles over both shoulders and across the width of his back. They made him more human, a thought you had formed back in those early days when he still seemed untouchable like a celebrity who would never know of your existence despite how much you admired them.

“I don’t want to.”

“Not an option, little dove. C’mon, I need to know what’s bothering my girl so I can fix it.”

“That’s the problem, Sho! Not everything is fixable. Not when everyone seems to be out to split us up,” you half yelled, half cried.

You could feel him freeze beneath you. His posture going utterly rigid, the air in his lungs and throat taking pause whilst an anger swarmed upward and out. It wrapped around you both until you were fully enveloped in its destructive heat. If you let it consume you, there was a chance that things could be torn apart on the heels of pure fury.

As quickly as it emerged, it dissipated. Barou crushed you to his chest and buried his head at your neck. He remained quiet, letting you work out the tears until you were hiccuping with dry sobs. His fingers stroked down your spine, methodical and calculating. You knew his mind had to be racing, but how did you move forward?

“Should we…?” You trailed off, the thought alone lodging a hard lump in your throat that ached to swallow past.

At that, he grabbed at your shoulders and moved you to arm’s length. Those carmine eyes searched your face, searching for a sign to prove if you really meant it and finding none. He would not be fooled by the words, there was no weight in them because they were hollow and untrue.

It was hard to hold his gaze, the little shake he gave every time your eyes started to slide off to the side only emphasised how tight your chest felt even thinking that horrible thought. Your life was better, so much better with him in it. Yes, there were pitfalls and obstacles to overcome but each one had been worth the work.

Shouei licked over his lips. “I don’t want that, do you?”

You shook your head, hair falling into your eyes and clinging to the tears crowded there. You were crumbling right in front of him, and he wasn’t backing away. If anything, he was leaning closer until his forehead rested against yours.

“I don’t care what those cunts published, its not true and I will burn their shitty little offices to the ground if you just ask me to,” he enthused with a growl.

It was enough to make you laugh, though you knew he’d do it if you really wanted him to. Barou Shouei on a mission was a force to be reckoned with. It reminded you of how aggressively he pursed you when he finally worked up the courage to voice his interest. That was a thought for another day…

Your palms cupped his cheeks, thumbs sweeping across the width of his sharp angled eyebrows. “You’re not looking for a model or an actress or some twittering young social media influencer to be your girlfriend?”

“Fuck no!”

“… ‘cause apparently I’m not WAG material,” you said with a sad smile.

Without missing a beat, Barou spun you around on the bed and hovered over you. His breath fanned warm and minty across your skin until you swallowed thickly. He kissed you, and there was nothing fierce or dominating about how his mouth moved atop yours. It was slow and deliberate, as if he could breathe the depth of his love right into your lungs.

The hard planes of his body, that you knew intimately, moulded to your softer ones in perfect cohesion. The contrast was not lost on you, and it wasn’t only evident in physical attributes, but also the difference in your natures. You were two unique pieces that seemed to fit two completely different puzzles, but when connected, you created a whole new picture that was better than the ones that came before.

“I want you, not some woman that’s only with me for how I can benefit them. Vapid, money hungry leeches. Not like you,” he sighed the last words, his nose rubbing against yours. He continued, “I still remember the fight you put up on our first proper date. You wanted to split the bill, and I nearly had a fucking aneurysm with how stubborn you were about it.”

You giggled, your heart feeling lighter for the first time in hours.

“Well, I didn’t want you thinking that I owed you something just because you paid for dinner!” The words were accompanied by your arms wrapping around his neck, fingers brushing through his beautiful silky hair.

“Baby… by that point we had already fucked six ways to Sunday. You didn’t want to admit that you were falling for me, that’s all.”

“Shouei! Oh my god… you’re awful. Just remember that you fell first, mister ‘I’m so big and tough that I get constipated over my own emotions’. Don’t give me that look,” you scolded when his brow furrowed, and his teeth came together in a firm line. You jabbed a finger at him, and he caught it between those perfectly white teeth causing you to squeal and smack playfully at his back.

He let go with a grin. “To be clear, I don’t want us to break up—ever. You gave me a reason to live and strive to be a better man, other than football. I’ll always be grateful that you gave me the time of day. Those shitheads should be writing about how I’m not good enough for you.”

“Oh hush. I love you, my big dummy.”

“I love you more, my queen.”

[umseb]

The Day Sebastian Vettel Decided To Retire From F1 — Then Annoyed Aston Bosses With Climate Campaign

Two years ago, Sebastian Vettel decided to bring an end to his glittering F1 career, so picked up the phone to Matt Bishop, then Aston Martin comms boss. He details the ensuing scramble and Vettel's increasing determination to speak out

Just over two years ago, on Wednesday July 27, 2022, I was forced to do something that I really hate doing: at the eleventh hour I had to cancel a long-standing dinner arrangement with my husband and two of our dearest friends, who live in New York and were on holiday in London for a week. The reason was that, at 5 pm that afternoon, I received a phone call from Sebastian Vettel telling me that he had decided to announce his retirement from Formula 1 in the Hungarian Grand Prix paddock the following day. I was Aston Martin's chief communications officer at the time, and, when something as big as that is sprung on a Formula 1 team's most senior comms/PR operative, he or she has to drop everything and focus on briefing colleagues in confidence, writing press releases, planning social media content, arranging press conferences, and formulating comms/PR strategies designed to optimise the management of a tricky news narrative that in this case would surely unfold rapidly, and perhaps also trickily, over the next 24, 48, 72, and 96 hours. I have written above that Vettel had "sprung" his decision on me, but, although the imminence of his announcement was a surprise, its content was not. Four months earlier you will recall that he did not travel to Jeddah for the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix, since he was recovering from a bout of Covid-19. His place was taken by Nico Hülkenberg, who, despite race-rustiness caused by his not having competed in F1 the previous year, did a typically excellent job.

Seb had made no secret of his disapproval of the Saudi regime when we had all gone there the first time, in December 2021, and, not surprisingly, in March 2022 rumours soon began to spread to the effect that he had invented a Covid-19 diagnosis so as to avoid racing there a second time. The truth was that he had indeed had Covid-19, and that he was indeed still unwell; however, was he disappointed to have had to skip the 2022 Saudi Arabian Grand Prix? No, he was not. Two weeks later, in Melbourne, he was back. On the Thursday before the Australian Grand Prix, in the Albert Park paddock, I gave him his comms/PR briefing, as was my habit on the Thursday before every grand prix. We discussed media matters of moment, including his not having raced in Jeddah. "The truth is that I was ill, honestly," he said, "but I admit that I don't like or approve of the country, so if I was going to have to miss a race because of Covid-19 that's probably the one I'd want to miss." He paused, smiled, and added, "I'm pretty sure I'm never going to race there again." Then and there I realised that 2022 would probably be his final season as an F1 driver. Not only was the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix going to be a fixture on the F1 calendar for years to come, but also one of Aston Martin's principal sponsors was Aramco, Saudi Arabia's state-owned national oil company. Missing that particular race without a 24-carat excuse would henceforth therefore be impossible for any Aston Martin driver. So, axiomatically, it followed that the only way he could make sure that he would never have to race there again would be to retire from F1 at the end of the year.

On the morning of Thursday, July 28, 2022, having worked until 3 am the night before, my comms/PR team and I issued a video in which our much loved four-time world champion announced his F1 retirement in his own words, and he posted it on his then brand-new Instagram channel at the same time. It included the following sentences, which he spoke with his usual eloquence: "I love this sport but, as much as there's life on track, there's also life off track. Being a racing driver has never been my sole identity. I want to be a great father and a great husband. I believe in change, and progress, and that every little bit you do can make a difference. We all have the same rights, no matter where we come from, what we look like, or whom we love. I'm an optimist and I believe that people are good, but, in addition, I feel that we live in very difficult times. How we shape the next few years will determine the rest of our lives. Talk is not enough. We can't afford to wait. I believe that there's still a race to win." The race to which he was referring was his growing and accelerating commitment to doing whatever he could to leverage his fame and popularity for the good of the inhabitants of planet Earth. That may sound grandiose, but it is also entirely valid. In the two years during which I worked with him, 2021 and 2022, we won awards for the inspirational way in which he did just that.

Just before the 2021 Styrian Grand Prix, helped by local schoolchildren, he created an F1 car-shaped 'bee hotel' at the Red Bull Ring. Three weeks later, straight after the British Grand Prix, in which he had raced hard for forty laps until his Aston Martin's Mercedes engine had terminally overheated, he led a group of volunteer litter-pickers to clear the Silverstone grandstands of the trash that irresponsible spectators had left behind. A month after that, in Hungary, infuriated by that country's new anti-LGBTQ+ legislation, he wore rainbow-coloured sneakers in the F1 paddock, and he donned a similarly hued T-shirt bearing the legend #SameLove as he took the knee on the grid before the race. Throughout the weekend he had talked to journalists and TV crews intelligently, thoughtfully, and compassionately on the subject of LGBTQ+ rights, equality, and inclusion. In May 2022 he visited and spoke inspirationally at HMP (Her, or now His, Majesty's Prison) Feltham, a young offenders institution in a suburb of west London, formally opening a new workshop in which the teenage inmates could learn how to become car mechanics as part of their rehabilitation. Immediately afterwards he and I took a South Western Railways train to London's Waterloo Station, sitting among regular commuters, so that he could spend time with the pupils of Oasis Johanna Primary School, which is in a disadvantaged part of inner London, and after that we went by Uber taxi to a church in Hackney, in the East End, where the BBC's prestigious political television talk show Question Time would be filmed. As the TV cameras rolled, he conversed fluently on the subjects of Brexit, the UK's cost of living crisis, the then-Prime Minister Boris Johnson's 'partygate' shenanigans, and even Finland's desire to join NATO, consummately out-arguing one of his fellow panellists, Suella Braverman, who was then the Attorney General for England and Wales and the Advocate General for Northern Ireland.

In addition, as the months went by, he continued to speak out in support of what he saw as humankind's collective global responsibility to address the climate crisis, doing so with increasing regularity, vehemence, and fearlessness, with the result that he began to irritate the very most senior people at Aston Martin, even though what he said tended to please most journalists and fans. "I don’t care," he said when he learned of his big bosses' disquiet. "I must do what's right." Behind the scenes what he did was perhaps even more admirable. F1 teams receive communications from troubled people all the time. You try to do what you can to help them, but sometimes their difficulties are of the type that human kindness alone cannot resolve. I am thinking of recently bereaved people, terminally ill people, profoundly disabled people, people with debilitating mental health issues, etc. Sometimes all you can do is send them a team cap signed by a driver. It is not much, and it breaks your heart that you cannot do more, but it is better than nothing.

Yet Vettel always tried to do more. On one occasion, I had been contacted by a young man who was deeply depressed. I told Seb about him, and he said, "Let's do a Zoom call with him." So I arranged it. I had thought that Seb might speak for five minutes or so, but no. He chatted animatedly for more than twenty minutes, with touching humility and heart-warming empathy, and I feel confident when I say that those twenty-odd minutes were significant in expediting the lad's mental and emotional recovery. A few months later, Seb hand-wrote the boy a four page letter. He gave it to me at a grand prix-I cannot remember which one-and he instructed me to post it on when I returned to the UK. I read it before I did so, and the tenderness and beauty of Seb's prose brought me to tears. There are many other examples of his remarkable generosity and sensitivity: too many to mention, in fact. This column has been about Vettel the man, not Vettel the driver. He was fast and clever in the cockpit, and I may well write about that side of him one day. I could write much more about Vettel the man, too, for I have dozens of stories that I could tell on that subject, because I worked very closely with him for two years and, more importantly, because he is a truly great man. In my long career I am lucky enough to have spent time in F1 teams with four world champions-Seb, Lewis Hamilton, Fernando Alonso, and Jenson Button-and they are all fantastic guys in their own, very different, ways. But, in my 61 years on this planet, I can state with confident and emphatic certainty that Sebastian Vettel, from the small town of Heppenheim, south-west Germany, is one of the most impressive people whom I have ever had the pleasure and honour to know, whether that be inside or outside F1. As he is fond of saying, "You can't always be the best, but you can always do your best." As a maxim to live by, it is hard to beat.

article by matt bishop

[shefollowedthestars]

being f1 driver!kate bishop's wag would include.. ᯓ★

warnings: fem!reader, nothing else i think of atm

notes: kate bishop as an f1 driver SAVE MEEEEEEE!! this is like directly how i'd imagine kate with a gf as a driver, so i hope you enjoy 🫶🏽 💜 f1 driver!kate short fic

you wearing her team kit all the time. kate drives for redbull and despite their brand colour being a deep blue, kate always has special edition merch made in purple. therefore, you are almost always wearing some shade of purple as a shirt with 'bishop ' on the back and a 31 underneath. a grin always starts to form on kate's face when she sees you wearing her jersey with her last name on the back. it's slightly oversized on you, but it makes you look even more perfect.

you being in all the team photos. every single time kate wins a race or achieves a podium position, her and the team takes a photo all together. everyone who contributed to the win are together, with the trophy in the front and they're all cheering and smiling, but something is off to kate. you're not there. and in her heart, you contributed to the win more than anyone else because she couldn't do anything she does in this sport without your support, reassurance and love. so she obviously calls for you, standing next to the photographer, to get into the photo. you shyly walk over and sit right next to kate, her hand around your waist. and the fans go crazy when the photo releases because kate doesn't have her hand in a fist in the air, eyes focused on the camera like everyone else. the only thing she's focused on is you and she's wearing the biggest smile and her eyes are filled with the purest joy.

kate giving you shout-outs in interviews. the races on the formula one calendar are all around the world, from mexico to australia - you cannot possibly attend all of them. so you end up watching most of them in your apartment after a long day of work. kate knows this and while she wishes you were with her instead, it comforts her to know that you are home and rooting for her to win and that even if she doesn't, that you're still proud of her. but this time she wins and when the interviewer runs up to kate with a microphone, asking her how she feels, she says, "it feels great to finally win after so long and i would just love to thank the team and everyone at the factory...and my partner, y/n who's back home, i love you and thank you." she says grinning at the camera. and from thousands of miles away, curled up in your blanket, your cheeks warm up and all you can think about is how lucky you are.

oh to have kate bishop say i love you to you on international television wearing a purple race suit with her hair all messy and alluring ughhh

[lilmajorshawty]

which venus placements make someone have a good taste in fashion art movies etc.???

Venus in Aries or the 1st house:

They tend to be very stylish and might where clothes that have a more street look. This could be trench coats and or sports ware or they can even wear ripped jeans and a sort of masculine look. The men and women can tend to be into anything that involves the body as art, so sports or movies that have action and or confrontation may be more their aesthetic. If We are talking romance this would also include movies like the notebook where their involves a open and more confrontational expression of feelings for one another.

Venus in Taurus or the 2nd house:

They can also be very stylish but they tend to wear clothes that are more comfy and skin tight. They like the touch of fabrics and can be super picky with what they wear and how they wear it. Very rarely will they “dress up” unless they have Saturn aspecting or 10th house energy as they tend to seek comfort over looking “cute.” Ironically because they have very nice bodies they tend to have extremely sensual looks in their sports or casual wear because of how well it fits their bodies. Art wise they tend to be painters and drawers. They can also adore exotic dancing or make up but this is lesser as compared to painting. Movies wise they tend to be traditional and like the oldies. But I would say even some shows like the OA, stranger things, Dark, or some of the older shows like F.r.i.e.n.d.s or seinfield fit them as they love security and sensuality

Venus in Gemini or the 3rd house:

These guys and gals tend to be very spontaneous when it comes to style but as a rule most with this placement love their dark colors maybe even more than Scorpio’s. They tend to wear a lot of crop tops or ripped jean looks. They love form fitting looks but also anything that has a sort of flowy and eccentric twist to it. Movie wise I’d say movies such as mr. and mrs. Smith, pulp fiction, kill bill, or even noir films, pesky blinders, anything science fiction related like “life” or Prometheus suit them as they tend to be into the darker themes of life but also like a light duality if serious vs joyous. They are advant dancers and can be very into tarot readings or astrology as an expression of themselves. Many tend to enjoy all forms of art but might be more in the observant end then actually doing it.

Venus in cancer or Venus in the 4th house:

They can have a moody way of dressing. This can sometimes be dressing indie or goth depending on their emotional state. They tend to have this e-boy, E-girl look to them at times but most of them tend to dress very soft and gentle almost in a way that makes them look tiny and fragile. They have a natural sad girl and sad boy aesthetic that can make their outfits seem unknowingly grunge without really trying. They also have a very strong ability to project themselves so many are into YouTube, or having vlogs because they naturally see outsiders and people around them in a mothering light. Art, for them can include drawing, creating clothing or literal branding. Movies for them I would say anything that is rom com! Anything that reminds you of home.

Venus in Leo or Venus in the 5th house :

They have a bright way of dressing! Similar to Aquarius Venus, they like their bright colors and tend to really place a focus on their lower back so you can see those curves. and if it’s a man typically the outfit somehow manages to center to their face so you can see that smile. They typically enjoy very high class material and can be sticklers for an old homage to a brand! So don’t be surprised to see them rocking classic ware. Movies wise? They tend not to watch very many and if they do they have to be emotionally significant or make an impact on them. A lot of their movie choices have to do with impossible choices or moments of passion. Mission impossible or friends with benefits with Mika kunis and Justin Timberlake come to mind. As far as art? They tend to be very good at dancing! Naturally too, some of their other talents include performing and acting and I also mean this literally, they make amazing actors.

[roseandxanderfics]

“Blood, Mud, and Everything Between” - Roy Kent x RugbyPlayer!Reader

Summary: After a brutal rugby match, Roy helps you clean up—hands gentle despite his usual gruffness. Between the bruises, the shower, and the quiet moments after, something deeper slips out: the truth about how much he really loves you. Tender, steamy, and all Roy Kent.

A/N: Based on a request 'Could you write a fic about roy and a women's rugby player inspired by ilona maher'

-----------

Roy Kent was not built for PR events. He didn’t like cameras, he didn’t like smiling, and he definitely didn’t like pretending to enjoy himself for the benefit of a sponsor who sold protein bars shaped like dicks.

But Beard had guilt-tripped him. Keeley had double guilt-tripped him. And somehow, Higgins had looked so hopeful that Roy had grunted something close to “fine” and found himself on a muddy pitch at a co-branded Richmond FC x England Rugby crossover day, mic’d up and miserable.

That was—until you flattened him.

“Shit—” The world tilted sideways as your shoulder caught his chest and sent him sprawling. You were gone as quickly as you came, barreling forward with the rugby ball tucked under your arm like it owed you money. He barely had time to register what had happened before you turned at the try line, grinning like a wolf.

“Sorry!” you called, not sorry at all. “Didn’t see you there.”

“Didn’t see me?” Roy growled, brushing himself off. “I’m fucking massive.”

You jogged back toward him, still smiling, hair in a loose braid with dirt streaked across your cheek. You offered him a hand. “Guess I was focused on winning.”

Roy took it, hauled himself up, and stared. You were strong��stronger than some of the lads he’d coached—and not just physically. There was a fire in your eyes that said you played hard because life had never been soft.

He recognized that look. He had it too.

“Name’s Y/N,” you said, tucking the ball under one arm and squinting at him. “You’re Roy Kent, yeah?”

He grunted.

“Thought so.” You gave him a nod. “Nice to meet you. You tackle like a striker.”

Roy narrowed his eyes. “You tackle like a bloody rhino.”

You grinned wider. “Thanks.”

-----------

Later, after the cameras were off and everyone had peeled off for showers and taxis, Roy found himself at a pub near the training ground with a handful of stragglers—including you.

You were halfway through a pint and laughing at something your teammate had said when Roy walked in. You caught his eye immediately and lifted your glass in a wordless salute.

He hesitated. Then walked over.

“Sit,” you said, sliding your jacket off the chair next to you. “Demanding,” he muttered, but sat.

“I just saved you from standing awkwardly in a corner like a grump.” “I am a grump.” “Yeah, but you don’t have to look like one.”

You smelled like cheap soap and fresh sweat, and your hand had a scrape on the knuckles from where you'd caught a boot earlier. Roy kept glancing at it.

You caught him. “It’s fine.” “Didn’t say it wasn’t.” “You’re thinking it.” Roy scowled. “You’re annoyingly perceptive.” You sipped your pint. “You’re annoyingly broody.”

It wasn’t flirting, not exactly. But the air between you was… charged.

“I watched a few of your games after you pancaked me earlier,” Roy said eventually. “You’re fucking brutal.”

You grinned. “I try.” “No, I mean it. You’ve got good instincts. Not a lot of showboating.” You shrugged. “Winning doesn’t need to be pretty.” Roy raised his glass. “Cheers to that.” You clinked your pint against his. “And blood looks better in high-res.”

-----------

A few weeks later, you were at Richmond’s training grounds. Keeley had roped you into some campaign for women in sport—something about cross-discipline respect and visibility. You didn’t mind. It was a good cause, and you were always up for more field time.

Roy found you mid-drill with the lads, showing Isaac how to angle his body to take a hit without folding.

“You shouldn’t be that fast with legs like that,” Isaac was saying. “Rude,” you replied, “but not untrue.”

Roy watched for a moment, arms crossed, then stepped in. “You’re dropping your shoulder too early,” he said. “Makes it easy to read.”

You raised a brow. “You offering to show me how it’s done?” Roy smirked. “You couldn’t handle it.”

That was the wrong thing to say. Or maybe the exact right thing.

You tossed the ball to Isaac. “Hold this.” Roy stared at you. “Wait—” Too late. You surged toward him like a bull.

He braced, but your weight and momentum caught him off guard again, and for the second time in your short history, Roy Kent ended up on his ass in the grass.

You leaned over him, both hands on your knees, panting slightly. “Told you,” you said. Roy looked up at you—cheeks flushed, jaw tight, eyes dark.

Then he grinned.

“Alright,” he said. “You win.”

----------

He lay on his back, grass pressed into his shoulder blades, breathing hard. You stood above him, haloed in the grey light, chest rising and falling, a bead of sweat catching at your jawline. There was a scratch on your cheek from earlier, already beginning to bruise purple. It made you look alive in a way Roy couldn’t quite look away from.

"You good?" you asked, smirking.

He didn’t answer immediately. His gaze dragged from your legs—still tense from the tackle—to your face, where something in your expression wavered, softened just a touch. It hit him suddenly, how long it had been since someone had challenged him. Not just physically. But like this—head-on, no pretending, no bullshitting. You didn’t try to flatter him or soften him or make him easy to be around. You were just...you. And you expected the same in return.

“I’m great,” he said hoarsely, and let you help him up again.

That night, you texted him.

[Unknown Number] If you ever want a rematch. Or a drink. I like winning at both.

[Roy Kent] Drinks don’t have winners.

[You] Then you’re doing them wrong.

You met at a pub three days later. Not the usual flashy spots with media and players and glittering bottles, but some quiet place in Hammersmith with low ceilings and a bar that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned since the 90s. You wore a denim jacket over your hoodie and had your hair tied up like you hadn’t thought too hard about it, but Roy noticed anyway.

You sat close—not quite shoulder to shoulder—but close enough he could smell your shampoo under the scent of beer and rain. You teased each other between sips, the same sparring rhythm you'd had on the pitch, but something under it buzzed deeper, sharper. When your knee brushed his under the table, neither of you moved.

“Do you always talk like that?” he asked eventually.

“Like what?”

“Like you’d rather start a fight than say what you mean.”

You tilted your head. “Takes one to know one, Kent.”

Your eyes held his then—steady, knowing. There was no challenge in them this time, no taunt. Just something heavier. Something real.

His throat felt dry.

When you left the pub together, it wasn’t discussed. You just both stood up at the same time, fell into step without needing to check if the other was coming. You didn’t ask if you should take a cab. You just walked. Rain fell in soft spatters. He didn’t offer you his coat; you didn’t ask. And when you reached your flat, you stood in the stairwell for a long second, keys between your fingers, breathing thick between you.

Then Roy kissed you.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t careful.

It was weeks of tension, of flirtation and denial and almosts, snapping all at once. His hand came up to cup your jaw, thumb rough against your cheekbone. Your fingers twisted in the collar of his coat and pulled him closer, lips parting to drag in breath and give it right back. You tasted like beer and mint and the bite of cold rain.

The door slammed shut behind you with a shoulder-check. Your jacket hit the floor. Roy’s hands were already under your shirt, palms hot against the ridges of your stomach, feeling the muscle there like he needed to memorize it. You pulled his shirt up, fingers catching on the hem, dragging it over his head. He helped, impatient, like everything was suddenly urgent.

You tugged him down the hallway blindly, bumping into walls and doorframes until you hit your bedroom and he backed you toward the mattress.

“You’re strong,” he muttered, mouth dragging along your jaw. “Fuck.”

“So are you.”

“No, I mean—really strong.” His hand slid to your waist, to the bruise on your ribs you’d iced earlier. “You play like you’ve got something to prove.”

You kissed him again, hard. “Maybe I do.”

He groaned into your mouth and pushed you back onto the bed. You landed with a laugh, breathless and flushed, and spread your arms out like you’d just scored the match-winning try.

He stood at the foot of your bed and looked at you like you were something he didn’t quite know how to handle. And maybe that was the point.

“Take your time, Kent,” you said, voice low. “I’m not going anywhere.”

That cracked something open in him. He crawled over you, slow now, grounding himself with the weight of your body under his. His mouth found the edge of your collarbone, then the hollow of your throat. You arched into him, hands sliding down his back, nails catching lightly on skin.

When he pulled your shirt off, he didn’t say anything. Just stared. His hands moved reverently—thumbs brushing over your sides, mouth soft where it had been rough, like he was re-learning the word tender through touch.

He kissed the inside of your thigh like it mattered. Like you mattered.

When he finally sank into you, it wasn’t fast, but it was deep. A stretch that made your breath catch, made his name tumble from your lips for the first time like it belonged there. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer, grounding yourself in the way he filled you. His hands gripped your hips tight, like he didn’t want to let go.

“Fuck,” he whispered, voice cracking. “You feel…”

“I know,” you said. And you did.

There was no rush. Just steady, deliberate movement. His forehead pressed to yours, your fingers tangled in his hair. He kissed you like he meant it, like every inch of him had been waiting for this, like he’d found something worth breaking open for. You met him thrust for thrust, no fear, no apologies—just sweat and heat and skin and connection.

When you came, it hit like a goddamn wave—loud, raw, full-body. You gripped him hard, thighs shaking around his waist. He followed seconds later, cursing against your neck, collapsing over you like gravity had finally claimed him.

Neither of you moved for a while.

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was… earned.

You lay with your arm over his back, fingers tracing the scar on his shoulder. His heartbeat thumped against your ribs.

Finally, he shifted enough to speak.

“I don’t know what the fuck that was,” he said, voice muffled.

You smirked. “Pretty sure it was sex, Kent.”

“No,” he said, lifting his head to look at you properly. “I mean—yeah, that—but also… fuck. I think I like you.”

You blinked. Then laughed. “Wow. You really are shit at feelings.”

He groaned and dropped his head back to your chest.

You let your hand rest in his hair and said, softer, “I like you too, Roy.”

And that, more than the tackles or the banter or the bruises, was what stuck with him the most. That you meant it.

---------

Morning came slow.

Light pressed in through the slats of your blinds, a pale gold that crept across your sheets and up Roy’s bare back. He was still out cold, one arm slung possessively around your waist, face half-buried in the pillow. His hair was a mess, curls flattened in places from where you’d dragged your fingers through them hours ago.

You watched him for a minute. Just watched. Because something about seeing him like this—unguarded, peaceful, yours—felt like catching a rare animal in the wild.

You shifted slightly and his grip tightened, groggy but immediate.

“Where d’you think you’re going?” His voice was gravel and sleep and faint suspicion.

You smiled against the pillow. “Bathroom. Chill, I’m not sneaking off.”

He groaned, hand dragging lazily down your back before letting you go. “Didn’t think you were. You’re too fucking stubborn for that.”

You padded to the bathroom, tugging one of his shirts over your head on the way. It was massive on you—black, worn soft with age—and smelled like sweat, soap, and skin. Like him. You looked at yourself in the mirror and almost laughed. Your hair was a mess. Your neck? Total crime scene. Your thighs ached. And you felt… good. Settled. Seen.

When you padded back out, Roy had rolled onto his side, watching you from under one arm.

“That's mine,” he said, eyes flicking over the shirt.

“Possession is nine-tenths of the law.”

His lips twitched. “You’re a fucking menace.”

You crawled back into bed and settled beside him, letting your thigh press against his under the covers. He ran a hand down the back of your thigh, slow, thumb tracing one of the small bruises from practice—then another, from last night. It wasn’t possessive. It was almost reverent.

“You alright?” he asked quietly.

“Mmm. Bit sore.”

His mouth quirked, but his eyes stayed serious. “Good sore or…”

You caught his chin gently and turned his face to yours. “The best kind. The kind I’ll be remembering all fucking week.”

That earned you a real smile—brief, but honest. “Good. Can’t have a rugby girl thinking I go soft.”

You grinned. “You didn’t. Though the cuddling after kind of gave you away.”

He grumbled and rolled onto his back, arm over his face like he couldn’t believe you were saying it out loud. “Fuck off.”

“Admit it, Kent,” you said, climbing over him, straddling his hips with ease. “You like being little spoon.”

He peered up at you through his arm, dark eyes narrowed. “I will throw you.”

“Yeah?” you asked, grinding slowly, deliberately, just once. “You sure about that?”

His hands came to your thighs, grip bruising again, but his voice had dropped—lower, raspier. “You’re playing with fire, love.”

You leaned down, mouth brushing his ear. “So burn me.”

And just like that, the air shifted again.

Gone was the soft morning light, the laughter. What replaced it was slower, darker—an ache in your core that hadn’t quite faded since last night. You felt the change in him, too—how his grip on your thighs tightened, how his breath hitched as you rolled your hips again, slower this time. Measured. Intimate.

He sat up, the movement sudden, and you found yourself in his lap, chest to chest, breath mingling. His hand came up to cup the back of your neck, thumb brushing your pulse point.

“You’re fucking dangerous,” he said, kissing you like he meant it.

“Only to men who think they can handle me.”

He groaned—deep, guttural—and shifted so you were on your back, legs wrapped around his waist again, his mouth traveling lower, tasting, teasing. This time was different. Less rushed. His hands moved with purpose, his mouth lingering everywhere it landed. When he slid inside you again, slow and deep, he didn’t stop moving until your name was a whisper against the base of his throat, and his was all you could say back.

--------

You knew he was coming, but it still knocked the breath out of you when you saw him.

Roy fucking Kent, standing near the edge of the pitch in a black hoodie and joggers, arms crossed, sunglasses on despite the cloudy sky. Looking every bit the intimidating bastard he used to be on the field—until his eyes landed on you. Then something in his face softened, just for a second. Just for you.

Your teammate elbowed you. “Is that… him?”

You shrugged, trying to act casual. “Yeah.”

“Jesus. He’s scarier in person.”

“You should see him in bed,” you muttered, adjusting your scrum cap.

She choked on a laugh and jogged off. You didn’t follow her right away. You looked at Roy for a beat longer, and he gave you the smallest nod—his version of a good luck kiss.

And then the whistle blew.

First half was chaos—mud, tackles, the usual scrum of limbs and curses. You were in your zone, quick on your feet, reading the game like second nature. You didn’t even notice the hit coming.

Your opponent crashed into you shoulder-first. It was clean, legal, and still knocked the wind clean out of your lungs. You landed hard on your side, arm pinned awkwardly beneath you. For a split second, everything went silent except for the thud of your heartbeat.

You sat up, dazed, rotating your shoulder. Nothing broken. You were fine.

But Roy?

Not so much.

You didn’t even have to look. You felt it—that sudden charge in the air. You turned your head and saw him storming toward the edge of the pitch, lips moving fast, jaw clenched. One of the officials stepped in before he could cross the line, holding out a hand.

“Roy,” you warned, already half-standing. “Don’t.”

“She fucking elbowed you in the ribs.”

“She shouldered me. It’s rugby.”

He didn’t move, still glaring murderously at the woman who tackled you, like he was mentally reworking the laws of the game just to make it illegal.

“She does that again, I’m coming on the pitch myself.”

You gave him a look. “You’re not my mum.”

“Fuckin’ actin’ like one at this point,” he muttered.

But he stayed back, barely, and you jogged back into the game. You could feel his eyes on you the whole rest of the half.

When the final whistle blew and your team had scraped out a narrow win, you were bruised, caked in mud, and high on adrenaline. You barely had time to breathe before Roy was in front of you.

“You alright?” he asked, low, serious. “Really.”

You rolled your shoulder again. “Little sore. Still standing.”

He stepped in close, his thumb brushing a smear of mud from your cheek. “Could’ve done without watching someone try to fucking fold you in half like a deck chair.”

You grinned, heart warm despite the cold. “You should’ve seen me last season. Took a knee to the jaw and didn’t even go down.”

His brow twitched—somewhere between impressed and horrified. “Jesus Christ.”

Your teammates passed behind you, one of them shouting, “Tell your boyfriend he looked ready to kill someone!”

Roy didn’t even blink. “Still am.”

You snorted. “They’re not scared of me anymore, now that they’ve seen you.”

“Good.”

And then, softer, he bent to press a kiss to your temple. “Proud of you. That was brilliant.”

You leaned into him, heart thudding—not from the game this time, but from the way his hand settled over your lower back like it belonged there. Like you belonged to him, and he didn’t care who saw.

“Thanks for coming,” you murmured.

“Wouldn’t have missed it.” He looked at you again, eyes warm despite the sharp edges. “And next time? Don’t scare the shit out of me like that.”

You grinned up at him, mischievous and glowing. “No promises.”

---------

By the time you got home, the adrenaline had worn off, and your shoulder was screaming.

You peeled off your muddy clothes at the front door, wincing when you reached back and your ribs twinged. Roy watched silently, jaw tight, until you kicked off your boots and leaned against the wall in nothing but your sports bra and compression shorts.

“You need a bath,” he muttered, eyes flicking over the smear of dried blood on your thigh. “And a fuckin’ exorcism.”

You gave him a wry smile. “I need a pint and a massage. In that order.”

He moved closer, hands gentle despite the gruffness in his voice. “You’re getting a shower first. Then I’ll sort your shoulder.”

You didn’t argue.

The bathroom steamed up quickly. Roy kept close, helping you balance as you stepped out of your clothes, his hands lingering at your hips, grounding you. When the water warmed, he stepped in behind you—fully nude, despite his earlier claims that he wasn’t staying in long.

You leaned against the tile, eyes closed, letting the heat loosen your aching limbs. Roy stood behind you, close but not crowding, one hand braced on the wall near your head.

“I don’t like watching you get hurt,” he said suddenly, quietly. Not accusing. Just honest.

You cracked one eye open. “That’s sort of the point of rugby, love.”

“I know. Still.”

You turned slowly under the stream, facing him now, your body pressed lightly to his. “You deal with it on the pitch better than anyone. But off it…” You smiled gently, brushing wet curls from his forehead. “You’re soft.”

“Am not.”

“Roy.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Just took the bar of soap from the dish and lathered it in his hands, then reached for you, slow and careful. His fingers skimmed over your ribs first, mapping the deep blue already blooming there. His thumb brushed the edge of a scrape, and his jaw ticked.

“I’ll kill her.”

“She didn’t even get carded.”

“Doesn’t mean she didn’t fuckin’ deserve it.”

You didn’t stop him as he continued—hands soapy and firm, moving across your back, down your arms, over your thighs. When he reached your shoulder, he paused, fingers pressing gently around the joint.

“That’s the worst of it?”

You nodded. “Hurts when I lift it. But it’ll ease up.”

He stepped in closer, tilting your chin so he could kiss you—wet, slow, careful. Then he dropped to one knee, still under the spray, and kissed your bruised thigh where you’d taken a boot to the side.

You looked down at him, breath catching.

“You’re ridiculous,” you whispered.

He looked up, eyes dark and intense. “And you’re fucking brilliant.”

You tugged him back up, mouths meeting again with more heat this time—less careful, more needy. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, despite the dull throb in your ribs, and his hands found your hips, gripping like he was trying to memorize the shape of you.

“You gonna take care of me, Kent?” you asked, voice husky.

“Always.”

And he did—right there in the shower, slow and unhurried. Every touch deliberate, every kiss meant to soothe as much as arouse. It wasn’t about the rush. It was about connection. Reassurance. The fact that even covered in bruises and grit, even aching and exhausted, you were his, and he would make sure you felt worshipped.

Afterward, he wrapped you in a towel and carried you to bed—grumbling under his breath but holding you like you weighed nothing.

As you curled into his side, muscles boneless and spent, he ran a hand down your spine.

“Next time I’m bringing a first aid kit to the match.”

You snorted. “Next time, I’m not getting tackled like a rag doll.”

He kissed the top of your head. “I fuckin’ love you, but you’re mental.”

You smiled into his chest. “Takes one to know one.”

----------

The towel slid down your body as you burrowed closer, letting the heat of him soak into your battered skin. Roy shifted just enough to cover you properly, his big arm slinging heavy over your waist like he was physically anchoring you to the bed.

“You sleep yet?” he murmured, voice rough in the dark.

“Almost.”

He shifted again, pressing his mouth to your temple. “Good. Means you won’t hear me talking shit.”

You smiled sleepily. “M’listening.”

He huffed a breath, annoyed at being caught, but didn’t stop.

“You scared me today.”

Your eyes opened, heart thudding slow and heavy.

Roy didn’t do scared. He did furious. He did protective. But fear—that was rarer. Something he didn’t hand out lightly.

“I know it’s your job. I know you can handle yourself.” His fingers traced slow circles against your hip, a nervous rhythm. “Doesn’t fuckin’ matter. Seeing you go down like that—felt like someone ripped my fuckin’ heart out.”

You shifted so you could look up at him, brushing a thumb across his stubbled jaw. “I’m alright, Roy.”

He caught your hand, cradling it against his chest, right over the steady thump of his heart.

“I know. But—fuck’s sake—I love you. And if anything ever happened to you—”

Your breath caught.

He froze too, like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. Like it had ripped out of him before he could stop it.

“You love me?” you whispered.

He groaned quietly, closing his eyes like he could escape the vulnerability of it. “Yeah. I love you. Have for fuckin’ ages.”

You kissed him, fierce and sure, tasting salt and steam and everything you had both been too stubborn to say until now.

“I love you too, Roy.”

He pulled you tighter against him, muttering something into your hair that sounded suspiciously like mine.

And that night—between the bruises and the exhaustion and the quiet ache of hard-fought love—you let yourself fall completely.

You fell into Roy Kent, and he caught you like he always would.

[tkachuktkaching]

A few of the highlights

After he threw the pitch in the Marlins game in Miami which he was still recovering from a shoulder injury (right after he got traded) he went into his back yard and and practiced and threw 5 pitches to prepare but he's much healthier than two years ago.

Some talk on Jayson Tatum and how he makes 6 times as much as him and he always knew he was destined for the big time in the NBA and he was always a stud.

They always talked as kids about making the nba and nhl respectively.

The video was technology class in 7th grade before high school.

His dad wanted to go with him to the baseball pitch and his mum was out of town.

He loved hanging out with jayson and catching up for a few hours.

He talked about Sherwood in 2020 he tried a few brands, he helped with the design process and was their first hockey player since their rebrand.

He talked going to Raising Cains, he was partying and going to eleven and without sleep and he had agreed to do things prior to the final. He talked about all the opportunities to do extra signings and things.

He decided to a interview with sports net and decide to give a shout out, he loves the people in Calgary and hates the people in Edmonton and he got family in Winapeg including his Grandpa.

He was excited to play in the charity golf tournament, he loves Charles Barkely and playing with TJ Oshie and the Kelcie brothers were cool.

And how he ended up singing We Are The Champions with Charles Barkley.

He was excited to meet the different people from the different sports.

He got engaged on the Thursday before game 1 in the playoffs and flew in his parents and fiancé's parents had a big celebration then went no booze for the whole playoffs and plans to do that again.

His special memories of the playoffs were the off ice stuff playing poker the comradeship with the guys.

He's sad the teammates that left but excited they got the offersheet and got paid and set for life and is excited to see them for dinner when they see them.

He was pissed after game 5 because he didn't want to go to Edmonton but he was so confident ahead of game 7 he wanted to do it for his family that got him there, he talked how his dad and Brady walked him to his car and wanted to do it especially for them.

He drives to the arena on his own he goes early getting there 4 hours early. Sam Bennet got a mention for liking to sleep and goes much later.

How incredible the emotions of his family and being the first tkachuk to win the cup,

Bringing his dad into the lockeroom was what it meant to him and his whole family.

Singing Brady praises for being so supportive and believes Brady will win it, he's too good not to, he's built for the play offs, and wants to be there when he does.

Literally everybody from Calgary reached out to him after the cup win even Darrell (Sutter).

Praising his old youth team London Knights and what they did for him and other players.

He heard from players he heard from or know and Robbie Thomas and people that won before Vllady got a special mentions he was a great veteran presence and okie too.

He talked the Paternark fight, and how it happened and Monty's involvement. He says there's no rules just beat the shit out of each other.

He'll never forget this year for the rest of his life.

He confirmed Brady did not touch the cup though there were a few close calls due to being drunk.

He says he's so much better health than this time last year, he's excited about this year.

He his fiancee and Brady are going to visit Taryn this Friday he says she won't listen to his interview so it won't ruin the surprise and talks how good she is a field hockey. Her preseason has started.

He loves to watch Barky in practice and is learning to do things and a special mention of Kucherov of Tampa one of his favorite players.

He wants to improve scoring from further out like Brady.

He's getting more recognised now but it's good and he's enjoying it.

He's being working on jumps, working on his skating, sprints and being strong weights but jumps.

He got in trouble for putting the cup in the ocean but the cup caretakers only told him afterwards but they understood but he got great memories.

The whole family sacrifices so much for hockey players and the Tkachuk name is on the cup forever it's forever.

[marinettesaltprompts]

We Can Grow Up Without You (Two-Letters inspired Anti-prompt)

Inspried by a post of @broadwaycutie16

Marinette had snapped one day. She was done with being a hero.

She had a plan all figured out. She would trick Chat Noir into an ambush so that she could take the ring from him. She would trick Lila into thinking that the ring was secretly in space, all while she secretly kept the ring for herself as leverage, then give the Miracle Box to Lila so that she could be "the Ladybug that Paris deserved", one that would also ensure her former friend's misery. With her memories wiped, Marinette could be with Luka, the only person who cared about her, all the while holding onto the ring so that she could go after Lila, in case she ever needed the Wish to ensure Luka remained loyal to her.

Clearly, this was the best plan, an insane Ladybug thought.

So imagine the chill in her blood when a year after she done her plan, she went to go check on the ring, only to find it missing.

It didn't take long for Marinette to find the news about Chat Noir seemingly betraying the new Ladybug, revealing her to the world as Lila Rossi. She (alongside Felix, who was also unmasked as the new Hawkmoth) were both arrested on charges of essentially staging akuma attacks, while the "Chat" that was Lila's partner was revealed to be a Sentimonster in disguise. All the miraculouses were collected by the real Chat Noir, then he too disappeared.

Marinette knew exactly where he went, however.

Snarling, a livid Marinette went to the office tower of Agreste (renamed from the well known Gabriel brand) where Adrien was located, having returned from a month long vacation. She was unexpectedly let in without resistance however, as Adrien was supposedly expecting her.

Smiling an empty smile, Adrien stared at Marinette, sporting not only a familiar ring, but also a familiar set of earrings.

"Hello Marinette, its been a while, hasn't it?"

Naturally, Marinette was anything but polite. She ranted and raved about how Adrien wasn't supposed to have the ring (nor the earrings). She was outraged, horrified, and most of all confused.

Despite not needing any reason to tell her, Adrien obliged Marinette's demand for an explanation and told her his story.

About a month after Marinette went through her plan, Adrien took a lot of time to think about things. What he had went through regarding losing his miraculous, what he had felt at being tricked by Ladybug and Marinette. He wanted to scream and shout, to let go of his anger and blame everyone around him. Yet he had remembered one of the wise things Plagg once said (during a time he wasn't asking for cheese), and decided to reorient himself by focusing on one step at a time. Adrien messed up by letting his guard down around his former crush, but decided to make up for it by going after the new Ladybug, who at the moment was causing trouble for Paris.

Through some detective work (with the help of Max Kante) and using his head for the first time, Adrien tracked down Felix over the course of a week and managed to catch the latter off guard. Stealing the Peacock Miraculous from his cousin, Adrien created a sentimonster to track down the other miraculouses while pretending to be his cousin (to keep Lila unaware), including his former ring and the butterfly miraculous, which Felix had kept in a safe for when he was causing villainy as "Hawkmoth". He also learned from Dusuu the truth about himself, that he was actually a sentibeing created by his mother, and that her using the then broken miraculous was the reason for his passing. Despite the revelation shaking him, Adrien kept going, focuing on one step at a time.

From there, it was easy to take care of Lila (who grew so arrogant that she didn't expect Adrien to have any way to take her down) and get the rest of the Miracle box back. He also managed to track down the pieces of the Rabbit Miraculous and repair it again, after Marinette was able to destroy it.

With all the Miraculouses returned, Adrien finally used the opportunity to finally figure out what went wrong with his former partner and what caused her to give up being a hero.

Through evidence provided by Tikki and Plagg and a little help from the Rabbit Miraculous (through windows in time), Adrien had learned what went from with Marinette and why she had snapped. She saw how other people used her for granted, Adrien included, and how the responsibility overwhelmed her to the point she felt she had to leave.

However, Adrien also saw that Marinette had also ended up blaming other people for why she was like this (despite having other options to fix her problems), including blaming her partner for being supposedly unreliable (when she had pushed him away from helping with her plans or choosing the wielders) and for being unknowingly tricked by the Sentimonster Ladybug (which he admitted was stupid at the time, but he couldn't have imagined a sentimonster posing as a human at the time). Worse still, Marinette had started to blame the people of Paris for being akumatised, refering to them by their akuma names, despite it clearly being Hawkmoth's fault.

It was Marinette's mention of "Chat Blanc" that got Adrien's attention. Through a window in time, he learned of the alternate timeline in which he was akumatized by Hawkmoth, and learned the truth about his father: he was secretly Hawkmoth this entire time. Adrien was traumatised from this, but kept going.

This eventually led to learning of Marinette's plan to quit, having snapped and deciding to leave the fate of Paris in Lila's hands because "that's what Paris deserved".

Adrien spent a whole week going through all the information, every memory, every significant event, every bit of the life of Marinette Dupain Cheng, then another week to take it all in.

By the end, Adrien was horrified, but he was in a way grateful for what he had learned. Adrien felt sympathy for Marinette and why she felt she had to quit, but at the same time he could not condone her plan to leave Paris to Lila, nor her insults towards her former friends and family, especially with how she blamed them for being akumatized. He also realised that he did in some way play a role in her downfall (especially with his flirting and not trying harder to reach out more), and he did feel somewhat ashamed with himself for not noticing Marinette's feelings until it was too late (though given that Marinette had been somewhat possesive of himself with her stalking and attempts to control his love life, maybe it would have been a toxic relationship that was best to not have happened).

With all that being said, Adrien decided he would take matters into his own hands. With the Miracle Box now in his hands and with the Guardianship belonging to him (after threatening Lila with being Cataclysmed), Adrien decided he would make a new Order of the Guardian sect in Paris, with himself as the leader. He would use the recovered Miraculous to make a team that could not only help Paris, but all of France, choosing people that could handle the stress of being a hero since he could pay them for their services. Since Marinette no longer wanted to be the Guardian due to stress, Adrien would use what he had learnt to ensure he wouldn't make the same mistakes as the former Ladybug. He apologised to Marinette, but told her that he would be taking care of the Miraculouses now.

Of course, this all passed through the increasing erratic Marinette's ears. All she wanted were the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculous back so she could make her wish and bring everything under her control, all while ensuring everyone suffers. Plain and simple (to her broken mind at least).

Adrien, of course, politely refused, since Marinette had no right to them considering her plans threatened the very reality they were in and that she had given up the box to someone untrustworthy. It was only once Marinette attempted to attack her former partner that Adrien transformed (without uttering phrase, having mastered his powers by this point) and restrained the insane former heroine, at which point he gave up being polite and threatened Marinette with ruining her newfound life with Luka. Adrien did not want to do so, but he would if she kept going with her foolish quest. Marinette wanted her peace? Fine. But she would not threaten others into acting the way that she wanted.

"...Screw you Chat Blanc" Marinette uttered, having finally lost whatever mask of sanity she had before, eyes growing increasingly erratic. "Just like last time, you tried to destroy me and all of Paris to get the wish, now you'll do it again because I walked away from you, right?"

"Now that was just a low blow..." Adrien replied tersely, the comment about the akumatization getting under his skin. "But since we are going for low blows, what gives you the right to blame others for being akumatized? Prin-cess Jus-tice?"

"Th-that wasn't real! YOU'RE LYING!" Marinette yelled.

Smiling a sad smile, Adrien pulled out the Rabbit Miraculous, quickly showing a window in time before Marinette could react. With no words being spoken by the Agreste, Marinette could only watch as her former self fell under the sway of Scarlet Moth, having no means to resist the akumatization, being moments away from removing her earrings before the akumatization process was cancelled, not by Marinette's own strength, but by the slim chance of Nathalie falling ill.

"Of course, you wouldn't be so quick to judge others if you remebered being almost akumatized. But you gave up your memories, didn't you? All so you could be happy."

Marinette fell to her knees, having gotten cataconic from the truth.

"You know ... that apology I said to you before." Adrien continued "I don't think I mean it anymore. Not to this version of you at least. The Ladybug... the Marinette that used to be before you was someone I considered a friend, a person that ended up being broken by the responsibilities of things she couldn't handle on her own. Yet at the same time, she tried to push people away because of it out of a belief she had to sort things on her own. Had I apologised earlier, had I tried harder to reach out to her... perhaps this entire debacle wouldn't have happened, and she could have retired in peace rather than in anger. Then again, I'm not the same person I was before. I grew up. But you didn't, did you? You're just someone who has no idea about what Paris has gone through. You only saw the last letter of a broken woman and decided to take her words to heart, laughing at the suffering of those who once relied on her to feel safe against a manipulative man, blaming them for their own akumatizations despite having no control over themselves, feeling like what they deserved was justified despite having no memory of what they did to you. You're just some echo of Marinette, an echo that has no memory of anything except her hate, her suffering, and her desire for revenge. You didn't grow up. You just ran away while getting to enjoy the spoils of doing so. You didn't grow up. You didn't change."

Marinette could say nothing, having gone entirely blank. Adrien called security into his office and had her escorted off the premises.

Sighing, Adrien went to a portrait of his mother and pulled it back, revealing a small mural of photos, the main one being a smiling picture of a younger and more innocent Ladybug and Chat Noir. Adrien did not know if the emotions Ladybug showed in that photo were real, but he would cherish them regardless, even after she was gone.

Adrien left inside the mural a single yellow rose, before getting back to work.

[duckys-extra]

Honest thoughts on DTS season 7 as someone who actually watched the whole 2024 season live and never missed a session (not even an FP1 or FP2)

Because yes I watch DTS, no it's not how I got into watching F1, but anyone who doesn't like that can stay mad 🤣

Also yes, a lot of my complaints are about stuff consistently on brand for DTS and they are things that apply to previous seasons too. I'm just an overshared with an opinion that I like to voice.

Things I liked:

Firstly getting Jenson on there was top tier best choice DTS has made in a very very very long time. At least they finally listened and got rid of Danica, wish Sky would do the same (hopefully? maybe?)

Red Bull and Mercedes both fumbled hard not taking Carlos into their teams.

George is not consistent enough and is too error prone to lead the team into greatness. There is a common running theme that whenever he has the opportunity to do something great that could prove him to be a force to be reckoned with, he fucks up. Vegas was the only exception but ngl I forgot he even won Vegas bc at that point in the season it was so difficult to see any significance in a win that wasn't McLaren, Ferrari or Max.

This isn't something that was said in the show just something I've seen people getting mad about, but I don't think we needed an episode dedicated to Lewis' Silverstone win. Anyone who watches the sport knows that the win was already overplayed and the British media kept that story running for not just weeks but months.

In connection to ^^ We did need an episode for Charles' Monaco win bc he's never won there, he's had notoriously bad races and probably some of the worst moments in his career to date in Monaco. So him winning the race there was big enough and important enough to justify it's own episode

The Singapore episode was easily the best. I hope they do something like that again. It was one of those simple but effective moves. I know certain drivers wouldn't do it but I think that group was the perfect drivers to choose.

The fact they held McLaren and their strategy accountable as that was what ultimately cost them several wins (though this also falls into the what I disagree with section for other reasons). I do like that they addressed that Oscar's Monza moment was massively costly to the team (imo Charles still had better strategy and probably would've won regardless but possibly less of a chance had Oscar not overtaken Lando).

Zak getting under Horner's skin was actually pretty hilarious. Like everyone was talking about Lando's mentality but like Horner can't even handle Zak celebrating wins without throwing out insults like a child. Funny tho.

Kamatsu is my Sheyla. Like oh my god protect that man at all costs please 😭 but also it was good seeing Haas get only one episode this season rather than half the damn episodes. Lowkey one of the best things that came from Gunther leaving.

Now things I heavily disliked, it's a lot so get comfortable:

The whole McLaren Hungary issue irritated me because in truth yes, Lando made the right decision on a moral level (ngl one I think he visibly regretted really but everyone around him was saying it was right so he had to agree especially with cameras around bc people would rip him a new one otherwise) but Zak saying that Oscar was the fastest on track for that race was actually a flat out lie. I watched live timing after they both pitted the first time Oscar just lost momentum and Lando gained speed.

The whole Lando vs Max thing and actually using the uninformed and uneducated argument that Lando "doesn't have the mentality" to beat Max was...pathetic tbh especially since even the likes of Max, Lewis and other great drivers disagree with it really. It's especially ironic that they comment about it when the people trying to talk down about Lando and use that never made it to the level of racing or winning races that Lando did in 2024...and he's still not even in his prime.

Not including Bearman's Ferrari race in Jeddah was disappointing, I think it was a key moment in the year, not just from Carlos' side which they did cover but from Bearman's. But they did cover his Brazil performance which was somewhat a redemption. It just lacked to shock of Jeddah where he beat Lewis and Lando with less than 36 hours notice. But hearing Ollie's radio and the fear in his voice did make me feel a little sick. I know he was fine but like I hate hearing fear in someone's voice like that.

Horner was acting like a bitter ex who got rejected again when he said he'd take Oscar. I'm not saying Oscar isn't a driver that everyone should want, however Horner has been rejected by Lando so many times now and not only that but 2023 Horner was publicly begging for Lando the same way Toto was publicly begging for Max in 2024. Like him getting salty and saying he'd have Oscar over Lando imo just proved that he's still not over that loss after publicly praising Lando as hard as he did.

Saw some people saying DTS made Oscar a villain. That's not how I saw it, maybe slightly in addressing Monza but it was far more that McLaren was Lando's villain by basically fucking up so many times. Whereas Oscar wasn't really made to be a villain, maybe a little cocky and overconfident but I feel like they've done that to every young F1 driver who is doin well. They did it to Max, Charles (the whole Charles vs Seb narrative for DTS was too much), Lando, Oscar is just the next one. It's not so much he's being made to be a villain, he's just growing out of the shy rookie phase that everyone praised him for when he first got into McLaren and I noticed that last year before DTS and even before his win. Essentially they are kind of covering Oscar's development of confidence in F1 and if you see it as a villain it's more on you than him bc I didn't get that vibe at all but it's probably just subjective stuff.

Would've loved to see the drama behind Adrian Newey's exit, I'm sure it wasn't dramatic at all. Probably just handed in his notice then dipped but like...I'd have loved to see the conversations behind it, bc there definitely was conversations that would've taken place.

The way they actively overlooked errors being made that weren't by the drivers but made it look like the errors were on the drivers...like aside from McLaren (and it wasn't even all the time for them) it just felt like the narrative was always that it was only the driver who could control if they won and that the team and car had no role in it.

Daniel being maybe a little out of touch when it came to his salary...like...he was still paid more than Yuki and while I might be a little oversensitive about the comment, but in today's economy and financial climate...he's a millionaire who as far I'm aware in 2024 was still residing in Monaco (however I could 100% be wrong on that).

Liam, I'm sure on a personal level he's an alright guy. I don't like him that much if I'm being honest and I think he plays it up for cameras acting like a bit of a prick to try and mimic Max but it just comes across as...desperation? It's giving...pick me girl vibes and everything he says is just...it makes me cringe. I know DTS is a big Daniel fan so they were always going to make Liam the villain but like he 100% didn't help himself. I do pity him a little bc like I say I'm sure his friends and family love him, but I didn't like him before the season 7 release and I like him even less now...

Not Daniel's biggest fan but they gave him false hope at Red Bull and that was just purely a dick move. Knowing he was really blindsided is pretty nasty.

Similarly, it was sad saying bye to Checo. Like the right decision was made but it was a hard watch bc anyone who watched 2021 knows that Max never would've won the title without him and he has had moments of greatness in Red Bull and before Red Bull it was a great driver to watch.

Would've liked to see some inside sight on Hungary from Red Bull's pov because that was a very significantly bad race that Max was visibly and audible angry in. Like racing Lewis and hitting him in a way that we got Monza 21 flash backs...I know they can't cover everything but idk it was a big moment in my eyes that really spurred on the turning point for Red Bull to realise just how bad they'd got

Alpine (I'm not particularly fond of either driver so my pov on them is pretty neutral, I don't favour one driver over the other), the narrative that Esteban was the issue with the car when on several occasions we saw him actually easily outperforming Pierre and vice versa. Though I'll note that Pierre's best performances comparatively to Ocon were when they stopped upgrading Ocon's car... we can take that however we want. However best decision Alpine made was deciding to drop one of them. Whether they dropped the right driver idk. Imo I don't think either is better than the other, in fact if I were to choose a driver pairing that was most similar in skill level from 2024, it would be Alpine by a landslide. They even have similar tempers, but Ocon absolutely has more aggression and imo is willing to risk more for success but it might come at the cost of his career entirely.

Flavio needs ban from the sport. He needs cut off from any connections he has within the sport. I'd not even allow him to watch races on broadcast. They never should've given him a platform. I'd have rather seen Oakes and Otmar's part in the Alpine drama.

It wasn't Netflix's fault but I hated seeing the sadness and pain that Carlos was going through from Ferrari.

[odetojupiter]

what if i told you that thea’s raven number - 14 - is an unlucky number because, translated, it sounds similar to ‘must die’/‘will certainly die’ in cantonese, and ‘is dead’/‘will be dead’ in mandarin.

‘her number was 14 for reasons’ - nora sakavic, aftg extra content

what if i suggested that tetsuji gave her that number specifically because he considered a black woman dominating his own sport a threat not only to himself but to his perfect court. not only is tetsuji’s misogyny pretty clear, but we all know the other ravens were killing themselves trying to be given the next perfect court number, but that was never gonna happen because even though the perfect court was actually full of the best players, it was never actually about championing the best players, it was about ownership. so what if i said that tetsuji hated that thea was as good as she was without having any ties to himself, outside of signing on to the college team he coaches. he felt undermined because he couldn’t fully credit himself for her skill, and so he gave her the 14 - on the surface, it’s an achievement to get so close to single digits for the ravens BUT it comes with a hidden threat. you will die if you go too far.

and then what if i suggested that nora also chose 14 because of the way the fandom reacted to thea. i have no idea whether she’d already picked out the number before the series was published but i don’t think it’s mentioned in the original series ?? so i mean…

yes, i’ve seen the list of issues people have with thea but what’s crazy to me is that we know literally nothing about her bar the few tidbits nora mentioned in the extra content, and the few scenes we have in the series. and i know there was probably a full backstory written for her that we never got to see bc of all the hate nora got purely for introducing her, and the subsequent reactions to literally everything we’re told about thea just makes me think that nobody actually learned anything about how people’s trauma can drastically influence how they perceive the world and how they react to things including the abuse of other people - cough. andrew and aaron cough. - her reactions to things are bound to be built off her experiences and she was literally in a cult which would completely rewire her world view so like (even what we’re told in the EC, we don’t meet her until her fifth year of edgar allan so she’s five years deep into this shit guys, and you know tetsuji was physically and mentally abusive to all the ravens u have to know that by now)—-

but anyway this post isn’t supposed to be a defence or a critique of her i just find the number 14 aligns with the way people speak about her as though she’s done something bad enough to deserve death threats, so i just hope you realise when u perpetuate that shit it’s like ur tattooing that 14 right on her face.

oh to add to that, in japanese culture the number fourteen represents imperfection, but specifically beauty found in things that are imperfect. if i say that’s a way of saying no thea isn’t perfect but that doesn’t mean she deserves to die ? what then?

bc no she’s not a perfect person and ill be the first to admit i hated that scene in tsc with jean, but are you really telling me that’s the worst thing an aftg character has ever done?? why is she being branded as the worst when she was literally in the series for like 3 pages?

and do u know what, the fact that she, post graduation, still wears her 14 is 1) a sign of pride that she really is one of the best and 2) a reminder that she is not dead yet, despite the efforts of tetsuji and the literal fandom

[fatphobiabusters]

Hi, do you by any chance know any fat athletes who ski/do wintersports? I got very spontaneously invited to go skiing with some coworkers tomorrow (I've never been before) and when I tried on skiing shoes they didn't really fit/the top couldn't be closed all the way, so I've just been feeling pretty meh about it, even though I know it's not my fault those things are only designed with thin people in mind.

(Totally fair if you don't get to this before tomorrow/doesn't fit the blog/etc)

I feel for you about this. I tend to feel self-conscious in similar situations, especially when there's not much time to mentally prepare for the outing. There's so many ways that fat people aren't included in daily society, like the problem with those ski shoes. I haven't done a lot of research into fat athletes, especially winter fat athletes. The fat athletes I know of are the fat athletes I happen to find while looking at fat positive stuff in general. BUT you're in luck!

lainedubin is a fat ice skater on TikTok. I've posted them a few times to this blog. This is one of their videos. They don't ski, as far as I know, but they have amazing videos of their ice skating. They look so graceful, and I know that their TikTok is welcoming of fellow fat people who want to feel comfortable doing what this ice skater does.

I also did a search of some more fat athletes who do winter sports! This Instagram account seems to post a lot of fat people doing winter sports like skiing:

The account apparently posts to this Instagram now, so both accounts show fat people skiing. Although this seems to be a brand selling plus size winter gear, a lot of their videos I looked at just now are fat positive and encourage fat people to feel comfortable doing winter sports! They show a lot of examples of fat people skiing and snowboarding.

I found that Instagram account while reading this post about skiing while fat. I haven't read the entire post, but what I did read was fat positive. The post includes tips for fat skiers. Tip 3, "Don’t be embarrassed to ask for boots that fit your calves," may or may not be helpful for you. I'm not sure if you already have the skiing shoes and can't switch them for a different pair. If anything, I think tip 5 will help give you confidence:

I felt inadequate the first time I showed up to ski at the resort. I felt that my body size wasn’t designed for skiing and that my lack of knowledge at my age would prevent me from learning how to ski. I felt that others would judge my size and think that skiing isn’t for plus-size people. WRONG! We have a place on that mountain along with everyone else. I changed my mindset and recognized that I had to stop putting limits on myself. I’m not concerned what others think anymore. I just get out there and have fun. I am loving skiing and will continue to do it because I CAN and because I love it. I will continue to take up space on the slopes, and I hope that you will too.

Additionally, we have a tag for posts about fat athletes. I've kind of lost track if the tag is "fat athlete" or "fat athletes," but it's one of the two. This recent post of ours I hope will also give you the confidence to enjoy skiing without thinking about other people.

I'm proud of you for putting yourself out there and allowing yourself to take up space!

-Mod Worthy

[pr-wlrrr42]

Analyzing things in ATSV part one

Okay so I have to be absolutely insane about Ganke for a bit, so this will probably take up several posts because screenshots/videos galore.... ermmmmm....

HAVE FUN (will edit and update as needed)

I'm going to start off by analyzing this piece of concept art

Taking a look at Ganke's tapestry on his wall, that absolutely looks like the CS:GO logo, just flipped and without the text. Ex:

Taking a look at more things on the walls as well:

1) who is doing this math. Is it Ganke? Is it Miles? Is it both of them? I like to think that is is Ganke writing things down and then coming back to them later, or, maybe Miles writes things down and Ganke corrects them/adds stuff.

2) I'm pretty sure that says deadly twins. Is this a game? Movie? A play on words? Makes me think of seven deadly sins, but I'm not too knowledgeable in the world of entertainment.

3) (not the jet) is this a schedule? Lunch schedule, perhaps? It's on the bulletin board in the final cut of their dorm as well, just redesigned. Has to be something school event related. It says "Spring 2023 Brooklyn ________ Academy." I can't make out the middle word.

4) I just like the little spider included in the drawing :3 Miles FOSHO draws all over the whiteboard all the time. I love it.

5) I love love LOVE the stickers he put on the drawers, and I'm guessing there also from video games, but again, not good with logos. If anyone knows though please tell me and I will put it on here.

6) I think it's neat that they have a poster of a bunch of cassette tapes on the door. That was definitely Miles's doing, as well as the record player that i found in there (it's his way of honoring Aaron.)

7) Peep the No Expectations drawing on Miles's side of the bunk. I love the little Easter eggs all over. This is so special to me. Makes me think of the Chekhov's gun principal that they did with the Spider in ITSV and are continuing in Across.

8) Ohhhhh so he's a soccer guy. I wonder if he likes the sport, players, or had played it himself. Maybe that's why he got buff, bit I doubt it (BRING ME BACK LOSER NERD CHUB GANKE)

9) Taking a look at the photographs that Ganke has and comparing them to what I could find in the final product. Ganke has a camera on his desk, so obviously he takes all of these himself, but we will get to that later.

10) This looks like a picture of himself to me. Self portrait. Look at that blurred out smile. It's either him, or one of his parents, but I'm guessing it's of himself. Did someone take that for him, or did he take it? Maybe it was Miles.

11) might again be a stretch, but it looks almost like two people leaning against each other. Headcanon that Ganke is just like Lilo and takes pictures of random people interacting for funsies (reminds me of them Gwen & Miles leaned on each other on the building but I have HIGH doubts it is that)

12) ..Again, just bullshitting here. But this reminds me of the scene from ITSV where Gwen and Miles first were introduced to each other. Could he totally off, but there were a lot of kids in the background that resembled and could have been Ganke. Who knows what that kid does in his free time. (I bet he has a lot of photos of Miles that he doesn't know about...)

13) i don't have any idea of what this could be but uhh.... we're open to discussion. Train???

14) Looks like a party. A school dance perhaps? Winter formal? Homecoming? Something. Reminds me of the Prom scene in Gwen's universe.

___

I absolutely love all the stuff they have in their dorm room for food. Those sillies!! Look at them! Eating dinner together! Fully equipped! Who owns this shit! Banking on Ganke owning most of it because like... just look at his fucking setup.

15) Here's that record player I was talking about!!!! I wonder if it's a brand new one of something Miles got when they went through Aaron's stuff after he died...

16) Coffee machine even though Ganke drinks like 7 energy drinks a day (this boys' coffee addiction is.... wow. Also personally I feel like Miles wouldn't really be too fond of coffee. Imagine if the caffeine messed with his venom strike and caused him to chock everything and himself a billion times lmao)

17) what is this???? Is this some kind of like.... portable burner, or something?????? So they can boil water/use a pan??????? If anybody knows it would be GREATLY appreciated.

18) We've seen the air fryer/rice cooker with googly eyes and I love that... oh, I bet that was Miles's doing. Maybe as a prank or a joke to mess with Ganke and they kept it. There's so much personality here.

19) ignoring the condiments for a moment- THEY AHVE A MINIFRIDGE???? DO THEY EVER NEED TO LEAVE THEIR DORM, ACTUALLY????? It almost looks like it has sparkling/seltzer water in it but.. gross. They really decked this place out, huh.

20) and in ITSV there's a microwave too. Everything to fuel Ganke's crippling chronically online illness.

21) SPRAY CANS!!!! Oh how wonderful. These are hidden/scattered throughout their finished dorm, too. I love that. I wonder if Ganke and Miles ever become delinquents and go off to graffiti stuff. (However, I don't see Ganke as being very artistic when it comes to things like that, so maybe he just tags along with Miles and acts as lookout.

22) FIDGET spinner!!!!!!! Oh boy. Oh boy. I know that these were a big thing a couple years back, but please consider... Audhd Ganke.... thank you.

23) is this an alarm clock? Radio???? Why do they need another source for music when they have like... three.. seperate ways.... okay.

24) You cannot convince me that this isn't Yoda. Or at least a similar character.. but I'm banking on Yoda. WHY DID THEY CHANGE SO MUCH STUFF THERE WAS SO MUCH PERSONALITY HEREEEEEEER

25) look at this slanted ass bowl. This supports something I will talk about later, but keep him in mind.

26) SKATEBOARD! Does Ganke skateboard??? Oh man. Oh boy. It's Canon because I said so. Skateboary Ganke!! You think he goes somewhere with Miles just to show off the tricks that he knows. I do. It's also his because it's leaning on his bed and there is a pretty clear separation of whose side of the room is whose.

27) Here is laptop #1

28) BIGASS speakers they deafen EVERYONE when they start playing music.

29) HIS FUCKING PC??? BROTHER, WHY DOES HE HAVE THAT EXPENSIVE ASS PIECE OF EQUIPMENT IN HIS DORM ROOM. WHAT DOES HE HAVE AT HOME?????? Bros got eh curved screen and everyrhing. Also is he making MUSIC. Ganke in his producer era (what genre do you think he makes?) Also, not pictured, but he has a Webcam, too. StreamerGanke....

30) HERES THAT CAMERA I MENTUONED EARLIER!!!! He has hobbies other than gaming like... photographing Miles.. and......... taking.. pictures of Miles..

31) is this some kind of console, maybe? We see him playing the Spider-Man 2 game, which is playable on both PC and Playstation, but I'm pretty sure it's confirmed that Ganke is, in fact, playing it on his ps5 (do not quote me on this that is what Google has told me...)

32) his professional-ass microphone.... pray that nobody ever finds out the kind of LOOT you have, Lee, or you will be robbed blind. (Not sure if this is still kept in the finished version, I'll have to check) ((also the stuff on his bulletin board? Brother.... broski you live with him.. you don't need to have him beside you on the daily))

33) This looks like an IPad to me, but I could br wrong. Also, he's watching Miles on it!!! COME ON. I know Spider-Man is his favorite superhero and all.. but come on, this is "person-who-has-crush-behavior" and I don't think that's too wild of me to say...

34) look at him with his little soundboard!! In the final version it ends up looking more like a keyboard than what it does right now, but he obviously makes music on the side as well. He's so dear to me.

35) This little drawer pulls out on his desk!! Where he stops his billionth keyboard and mouse. (In another angle of their dorm, in ITSV, their is a random unused keyboard propped up against the wall)

36) ANOTHER FUCKING LAPTOP. Bro has one for his games, one for school, one for talking to his online friends, and one for coding stg /hyperbolic

37) Here is the console for his computer. Simply that. Just astounding to me.

___

Just look at how much mire comfortable they are with each other now versus ITSV!!!!!! Good friends, good match, good sillies. The only thing I DONT like is the inconsistencies of the room... but perhaps they got a different dorm room this year and still chose to bed down together. Historians will just call them best friends.. rommates... anything but lovers.

Oh you thought I was done?

No.

No, I have one more thing to say.

One more tiny, tiny detail I fished out while studying their room.

Are you ready?

In the concept art.

Underneath Ganke's desk.

Is a bag.

And what's on that bag?

Some pins.

Oh but what's that?

That yellow one??

Is that the intersex flag?

Is that another game logo that I'm too uncultured to understand, is that just a coincidence, or, is Ganke intersex?

I don't know enough about people that are intersex to get into it, but.. Has anybody else noticed this?

I can't find it in the finished version... but. But guys. Guys.

Please tell me your thoughts on this.

I'm going to analyze that scene in ITSV with the hyperlapse of Miles sleeping and Ganke.. dicking off all night next. Might not be tomorrow but it will happen.

Edit:

I gave Ganke longer hair because he looks bald without it. THATS ALL BYE

Part 1.5