#the really important thing here is vote for the tournament you want to see next
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atlasofthestaars · 1 year ago
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[MK X READER] New Era - Chapter .012
first part | previous part | next part
NOTE: TBH a while ago I considered putting titles for these chapters but then I realized I am pretty, pretty bad at titles. Would you guys want titles anyways?? For convenience I would still probably have the numbers be the main thing to click on but for AO3 and the top of the page it would be labeled???
I broke down the votes on tumblr for the poll combining the votes of the tumblr poll and here :D! Here’s a link: here
I know links are not. really usable on ao3 though so I’ll copy and paste the breakdown in the bottom note.
The tldr version is: 1) Johnny 2) Bi-han 3) Liu Kang 4) Tomas 5) Raiden 6) Kenshi 7) Kuai Liang 8) Kung Lao
I’ll reveal what these votes are being used for when we get to the part when this was important LMAO <3 ty all for voting!!
FROM THE EYES OF ONE WHO TRIES TO FIGURE CERTAIN THINGS OUT
Today was the first day in a while that you did not awaken to see the sun.
Opening your eyes, it felt like a dream to awaken to a room lit up with the soft glow of the crystal lamp. For a moment, your heart raced. Your brain panicked at the unfamiliar feeling of waking up in a spot that wasn’t your room or the Wu Shi academy. Then, you felt a sense of calm fall over yourself as your brain remembered that you were simply in Outworld for the tournament.
You sat up, feeling your body slowly come to life. Joints popped, muscles stretched. You drowsily rubbed your eyes as you swung your legs over the side of the bed. After a deep inhale, you forced yourself to get up. A yawn left your lips as you walked over to the small closet you had unpacked your extra clothes into. You undressed, and as you did so you took a moment to pause as you noted the mirror hanging on the wall right next to the closet.
You hadn’t noticed it until now.
Swallowing your nerves, you turned so your back was to the mirror. You didn’t really have mirrors in the Fire Temple. You supposed it could have been chalked up to a lack of vanity of those living there, you never really questioned or cared. But all that mattered was that you rarely saw the mark on your back. 
It was a scar centered right between your shoulder blades. It was shaped as if someone had struck you with a leopard fist. Then, thin lines spread out from the mark in all directions, stopping conveniently just before it would be exposed with the clothes you wore. It was as if it were like veins and arteries and your scar was the heart. You let out a sigh as you reached back to trace the lines before gently brushing the main scar.
It felt rough compared to the rest of your skin, it was like comparing gravel to dirt. It was probably from the lack of care you put into it, but you had a feeling no matter how much care you would have put into it, nothing would cause it to get any less rough. The mark was notably lighter than the rest of your skin, the edges of it slightly pink before it faded into your regular skin color. 
No one knew you had these marks. At least, you assumed not, you’ve never shown anyone you had these. It took you long to find out you even had these marks. It was only until one night you had stayed over at Madam Bo’s and noticed the mirror she had hung in the guest room you had been staying in. You figured it wasn’t important to tell anyone, especially when you didn’t know the origin of it. It’d only serve to make you seem more suspicious.
Your fingers brushed the mark again. You’ve always assumed this was from your current life, before the memory loss. The last reminder of your past before it was all wiped away when you awoke in those fields near the Fire Temple. Your lips pulled downwards into a frown. You’ve never put much thought into who you were before you lost your memory.
Did anyone know or care who you used to be?
You huffed, knowing the answer. It was doubtful that anyone did. Maybe this wasn’t even from this life, maybe it was from your past life. You wouldn’t know from your memories, they never included details of scars or anything of the sort. You shifted your weight as you considered it. No, maybe it wasn’t, you concluded. You don’t know how you would even retain a scar from a past life.
You tore your eyes away from the mark and tugged your clothes on. It was too much to think about for something that was probably so insignificant. You turned to look at your back in the mirror once you were dressed again. 
It was concealed once more. Out of sight, out of mind.
Your stomach grumbled, reminding you that you needed fuel for today. Where would you even find food? You pondered over the food you could potentially get, and that’s under the assumption that you even had time to eat. You stood, staring at the door for a moment pondering over this new found dilemma before realizing you were wasting more time by thinking about it. You shook your head and walked out of your room.
Unlike your room, the rest of the palace was fairly open with windows and spots where the light could filter in. The palace felt like it was bathed in a soft glow of light. It felt almost like a dream to stand among the light. 
How lucky you were that you could be here to witness this majesty in person. You took a moment to close your eyes and just bask in the atmosphere of the palace. Just standing here made you feel regal. It made you consider how the palace looked on the outside, was it just as beautiful as it was on the inside? You felt like you understood why the royalty enjoyed lavishness, just a bit. Who wouldn’t enjoy waking up to this view?
The tapping of heels caught your attention, snapping you out of your reverie. Loud, commanding and with purpose. You turned to look over, down the hallway to see who the source was. You blinked as you recognized Princess Kitana walking down the hall. You stared for a moment, thinking of how funny it was that you encountered her again like this.
Your heartbeat got louder again, and you recognized the feeling. A memory? Again? As the world faded away you could only question why Outworld was unlocking so many memories for you. 
You opened your eyes to see a crowd of people around you. The faces of the people you saw felt hazy in your mind. You could vaguely recognize them, but it felt all too peculiar. Glancing to your right, you noted how you were once again standing next to Raiden and Liu Kang. It seems you were by their side more often than you had expected.
“Are you alright, Lord Raiden?” The words fell from your lips as you watched the uneasy look on the thunder god’s face. You saw him raise a hand to his head and your eyebrows raised. You crossed your arms and glanced to Liu Kang and noted his own worried look. 
“Strange visions.” Raiden muttered, his gaze looking off into the distance. You heard the little crackle of glass. Raiden grabbed his amulet, something that made your stomach twist and turn at the sight, and you all saw the fractured glass. 
“Your amulet!” Liu Kang exclaimed. Your breath hitched upon seeing the cracks. 
“It is nothing.” Raiden dismissed, though you could hear the hint of worry that lingered in his tone. “The tournament begins.” He continued, turning his gaze to the front as he placed the amulet back upon his chest. Liu Kang followed his example, turning his attention to the proceedings. Your gaze, however, stayed on Raiden for a few moments more.
A pit of dread formed in your stomach. Father would have probably called Raiden out on his lies. Should you follow in his footsteps? You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. Perhaps not, he was closer to the god than you were. Taking one last glance at the cracked amulet, you took in a deep breath. Then, you turned your attention to the front.
Monks walked in from the left and right sides before the fighting arena. From behind them, you spotted the Outworlders walking in. An old man, a tarkatan, and two Edenians. You blinked as you locked eyes with the Edenian dressed in blue.
Princess Kitana. 
Your eyes narrowed, giving her a challenging glare. The princess, in return, seemed to steel her own resolve.
No matter what this tournament throws at you, be it princesses, tarkatans, or sorcerers, you were determined to help Earthrealm win.
“Is something interesting, Earthrealmer?” Kitana inquired, snapping you out of your rather short memory. A perfect eyebrow raised as she came to a few feet away from you. You blinked, mulling over the sudden question before you realized that she must have found it odd that you were staring. You forgot you even were staring, too lost in thought.
“I was just thinking about how I encountered you again in this hallway, odd isn’t it?” You replied, lying. There was a moment where Kitana returned the stare, her face showcasing she was a bit perplexed by your answer. Perhaps she wasn’t ready for the answer you provided. It was rather mundane and casual. Were you performing a faux pas by being too casual with royalty?
“I wouldn’t consider it so odd, I take this route all the time.” Kitana replied, entertaining your conversation. You felt relief flood through you after her words, realizing you had not tarnished both your and Earthrealm’s reputation. That, and she had not caught on to your lie. A small, polite smile appeared on her face, the very same one she had shown you yesterday. It was all too perfect, too practiced in your opinion, but you would rather see that smile than a disapproving look. “Would you like to accompany me to the Great Hall?”
“It would be an honor.” You replied, sending her a smile of your own. Yours was less practiced, just a bit more honest. You, after all, didn’t have as much practice with sending polite smiles as the princess did. You only could hope it was enough for her. She nodded, seeming to be pleased by your response. You joined her side, a familiar feeling for something you had only done once.
Though the memory was short, your mind raced with the small details you remembered. This wasn’t your first tournament. You had fought in at least one other before in your past life. Though from the memory it seemed much, much more severe. Then, there was the other detail that was immediately nagging at you. The amulet. 
Liu Kang had called it Raiden’s amulet. Was it mere coincidence that in this life he wielded the very same amulet? You chewed on your cheek as you mulled over the question. Liu Kang had mentioned how Raiden had been a natural with it. Had that been simply a statement of skill, or was it a tease of how he actually used to wield lightning and had an amulet like that?
No. That was impossible. Liu Kang was simply a demigod, how would he know anything of a past life? He had even speculated that your visions were of another world, not of a past life. 
You were just overthinking it, surely. And yet, even with this confirmation in your head, the dread building inside you did not abate. You couldn’t tell if it was due to the fact that you didn’t even believe your own thoughts or that other nagging feeling you couldn’t quite place.
“How confident are you in your student?” Kitana inquired, peering over to you, breaking you away from your thoughts. Her eyes scanned you, as if she could glean how well the training went from your attitude alone. Or maybe, she was trying to analyze that pondering look you had. Her lips pursed. You smiled at the inquiry, feeling a surge of pride. You pushed the thoughts you had away, trying to lift your spirits.
“I’m very confident in Raiden.” You replied, hands clasped behind your back. Both from the pride you held in Raiden and the position, your back straightened a bit more. “He was a lovely student. He was very diligent in his training and very receptive to feedback. Not to mention, he was very adaptive.” You sang his praises, knowing very well that you and the others would have to hype Raiden up since he was far too humble.
“I see.” Kitana hummed, seeming to mull over your words as if it were like a fine wine which needed a review. “I hope we can see if he lives up to your expectations, then.” She commented. Not necessarily antagonizing, but you could sense the challenge within her words. You nodded, not taking the slight rivalry personally. It only made sense.
“I can assure you that he will.” You countered, indulging a bit in the challenge. An eyebrow raised at your words and a glimmer appeared in her eyes. It reminded you of the very same look she sent Johnny Cage last night, it was pure amusement. You smiled a bit wider, holding back a chuckle. “I would not underestimate him despite what his humble nature may lead you to believe.”
“We shall see.” The princess spoke after a beat. “I hope your high praises weren’t for naught.” She told you as the two of you arrived to the Great Hall. Her words hung in the air, though polite you could tell she was still very much rooting for the downfall of Raiden. Again, understandable, but you did have to commend Kitana for her attempt to be cordial. 
The two of you had arrived rather early, so only a few people were around. Not only that, but it seemed that most seemed to be milling about trying to shake off the drowsiness that clung to them like a wet blanket. Had it not been for the conversation with the princess, you felt like you also would suffer from the same condition. With a nod, Kitana walked off, leaving you to your own devices.
“I see you have become somewhat familiar with princess Kitana.” Liu Kang spoke as you walked over. For the moment, your small group composed of the fire god himself, you, and the two former farmhands. You nodded at his comment before letting your gaze drift across the group.
Liu Kang, as usual, was pristine. After all these years you had no idea whether the fire god even slept or not, and if he did, you’ve never seen it. He always seemed ready and prepared. You couldn’t deny that you were at least a little envious of it. Raiden was prim and proper too. Not too surprising, considering how he was rather diligent in his routine. You could sense the nerves radiating from him though, and you had a sense that his nerves were the main cause of his alertness. Kung Lao, on the other hand, seemed to still have a few traces of drowsiness left.
“I wouldn’t consider it as me becoming more familiar with her.” You corrected the fire god, crossing your arms. You pursed your lips as you considered what you would call it. “She just entertained some conversation, I’m certain she was simply being polite rather than actual interest.” You said, shrugging. You didn’t mention how she was probably more interested in the way you were lost in thought around her. Liu Kang’s eyebrow arched at your statement, but he seemed to not continue his line of thought.
A member of the royal house staff walked by, offering some breakfast styled hors d'oeuvres to you. You smiled and grabbed some for the group. You offered the small portions to the group. Both Liu Kang and Raiden refused. Luckily for you, Kung Lao was more than eager to eat the portions you didn’t want. It seems he’s not as tired as you thought.
As you bit into the food, you felt a bit better and your worries melted away for now. There was still that annoying nagging voice whispering in the back of your head trying to make you remember something, but now it was much more quiet. It was like you placed a tarp over it, muffling it’s presence.
Maybe you were just hungry and over exaggerating everything while you were famished. The voice, faintly, yelled at you that you weren’t, but you kicked it away. You would have time to think about it later. You didn’t want to worry others by being oddly distant during the tournament. You wouldn’t know how to excuse yourself properly.
Soon enough, Kenshi joined your side. It seemed he took the extra time to make himself presentable as you could not see a hint of sleepiness from him. You nodded towards him and pointed out the hors d'oeuvres to him. He nodded to you in acknowledgement before slinking off to grab some for himself before he rejoined the group.
“Feeling better?” Kenshi inquired, peering over to you. His voice was discreet, trying not to clue in the others on your conversation. You looked at him, raising your eyebrows as you tried to interpret his question. When you continued to stare at him, he let out a small sigh. “Your headaches yesterday.” He told you, and you let out a small “oh” at the realization. “You seemed better at the banquet yesterday.”
“I am feeling better, I suppose I just took the whole interrealm travel worse than the rest of you.” You said, which was not entirely wrong. It was a little ironic though, you reflected, how you a supposed Edenian struggled the most in Outworld. You paused for a moment as your mind lingered on his last comment. He had noticed how you were at the banquet yesterday? Last you recalled, he had been eating at an entirely different table. The attention he had paid to you made you feel…touched. Your smile grew just a bit more. “Thank you for worrying.”
“It’s nothing.” Kenshi dismissed, nodding. His lips curled into a soft smile before it fell as he set his eyes upon something just past you. Raising an eyebrow, you turned to look at who or what had caused him to lose his little smile. 
Ah. Johnny Cage.
“Man, I know we woke up early at the Wu Shi, but did we really have to wake up at the crack of dawn for this?” Johnny said as he joined your little group. You watched as he expertly snatched a few breakfast hors d'oeuvres from a passing staff member. He shouted out a causal thank you before turning to the group. “A man like me needs some beauty sleep, you know.” He complained before popping some food into his mouth.
“Empress Sindel would like the tournament fights to happen earlier in the day so the rest of the day is free for you all to explore and mingle with others.” Liu Kang explained, eyeing Johnny Cage. His hands folded together neatly. “I too, encourage the rest of you to explore Sun Do and its wonders. Just remember to not get too drawn in.” 
“Got it, chief.” Johnny Cage nodded, though his eyes were clearly somewhere else already. You sighed and sent him a glare to get him back in line. “Hey, I’ve been sticking to my word, teach!” His hands flew up into the air. “I’m allowed to admire the merchandise, aren’t I?” 
“I think you’re doing more than just admiring, Johnny.” Raiden pointed out, looking over to Johnny. The rest of the group seemed to agree, leading to the actor rolling his eyes. 
“Everybody’s a critic…” The American mumbled as he sulkily turned away from you guys. You let out a small laugh as you pat his back to comfort him. You received a pout in return, though you could tell that his pout was more so on the playful side.
After a bit more of a wait, the princesses made their entrance with the Empress. Much like before, the crowd parted to allow them to cross. Silence hung in the air so their footsteps were more pronounced. Once they took their seats and got settled, Sindel stood up once more.
“Welcome back to the tournament.” Sindel announced, her arms spread with a cordial smile on her lips. You watched as Raiden stepped up to the front of the crowd, singling himself out. “You proved to fight well yesterday, young man.” The Empress said, turning her attention to look at Raiden. You watched as her eyes narrowed just slightly. “Let’s see if you can continue to impress.” She sat down and crossed her legs. “General Shao, whom have you chosen as our next competitor?” 
“Your Majesty,” The General began, walking out from the side. Your lips pressed together as you focused your attention on the man. You still felt uneasy around him, it was the mixture of unsettling memories and the attitude he showcased yesterday before the fight. “I have chosen Reiko, my second in command.”
From the hallway, you spotted a figure emerging. The man, who you assumed was Reiko, marched forth. He looked more like he was going into war rather than into a friendly tournament. You wondered silently if that was the attitude of all the soldiers in Outworld or if it was just him. You recognized him as the man who stuck to General Shao’s side during the banquet last night. 
“As a boy, Reiko was orphaned during the Katallah War.” General Shao announced as Reiko continued forward. “Though captured, his spirit remained unbroken. He scratched, clawed, and survived. After the war, I took him in. Molded him into the perfect soldier. Few others are as well versed in the ways of war.” 
Your eyes went back to General Shao and you had to restrain yourself from raising your eyebrows. General Shao didn’t strike you as the type of person to take someone in, nevermind even being the fatherly type. Your eyes returned back to Reiko as you wondered if he had a fine childhood after being taken in.
He certainly seemed like a hardened soldier now.
Coming to a stop a few feet away from Raiden, Reiko turned away from him. Instead of greeting his opponent, he began to shadowbox, demonstrating his forms and skills. And here you thought Johnny was flashy. Raiden did not appear to be cowed by the little show which was a relief to you. After a spinning kick, the man finally turned to face Earthrealm’s champion.
“In whose army have you served?” Reiko interrogated, staring Raiden down. An attitude of being unimpressed rolled off of him in waves. You crossed your arms at this, narrowing your eyes just a bit. You could tell he did not take your student seriously, not even in the slightest. “In what wars have you fought?”
“I have done neither.” The former farmhand admitted, his softer tone contrasting with the second in command’s harsher one.
“Then you are woefully unprepared, Earthrealmer.” Reiko sneered. He lifted a hand to point directly at his opponent. “This will be your last battlefield.” He declared. A mutual understanding seemed to be in order as both of the men settled into fighting stances. Reiko bounced in his with a sense of barely restrained energy while Raiden was much calmer, much like how you had taught him.
Sindel called out for the fight to begin, leading Reiko to charge forward. His strikes were fast and aggressive, you could tell from the intensity behind them he was aiming to end this quickly and brutally. You were suddenly grateful for the training you had given Raiden as you watched him anticipate this and go more defensively.
You winced as you watched Raiden, at one point, get grabbed by the soldier and slammed into the ground. You had to admit, Reiko was ruthless and knew how to use his strength well. He was a grappler, something that you hadn’t trained your students well against. You could only hope that Liu Kang taught him good counters.
Still, despite the initial worry, Reiko seemed to lose steam against Raiden’s defensive tactics. This allowed the champion to gain the upper hand, turning the tide and turning the momentum of the battle against the soldier. It didn’t take very long after that occurred for Raiden to emerge victorious. 
“Felled by a simple farmer.” Raiden spoke as the soldier laid defeated upon the ground. Your lips curled upwards at the small taunt. Reiko deserved that for underestimating the man. The electric user turned around to face the Empress and bowed. You watched as General Shao huffed upon seeing his second in command fail.
“Congratulations on another victory, young man.” Sindel commended, though you could sense an underlying sense of irritation behind her words. It seems she thought that Reiko would be capable of conquering Raiden. She stood and addressed the crowd this time. “We shall adjourn once more at first light tomorrow.” 
Much like yesterday, the crowd dispersed quickly. Though this time, you could see how a few more people lingered just a touch longer to stare and whisper about Raiden. It seemed he was making waves already.
“And that’s another victory under your belt, Thunder Lad!” Johnny celebrated as the champion rejoined your group. Though he had a smile that told you he was grateful for cheers, you could have sworn you saw a flash of irritation at the nickname. You let out a silent chuckle at it. You recalled him mentioning how he hated that name, but you didn’t think it was that bad.
“Indeed, you are doing well.” Liu Kang spoke, nodding. “Many seem to be pleased at the display of strength you are showing.” A pleased smile was upon the fire god’s lips. Looking at the group, he gestured to the hallway. “The day is free for you all to explore and mingle with others. Although not a banquet, Empress Sindel will be offering dinner once more tonight.”
You all nod, looking towards each other and beginning to discuss their various plans. Then, you felt a hand settle on your shoulder. You look over to see Liu Kang looking at you. The same pleased smile was present on his lips, though you could sense something else lingering there.
“May we speak privately first?” Liu Kang inquired. Your eyebrows raised. As the question processed in your head, you felt a small sense of dread begin to build. He didn’t appear to be upset or overly serious, but the idea that Liu Kang needed to ask you to speak privately made you worry. What could he possibly need from you?
“Certainly.” You reply after perhaps a bit too long of a silence. You and Liu Kang waved to the group before walking off towards the outside exit. You both made your way towards a quaint bench in the garden outside. It was quiet here, peaceful. You swallowed your nerves as you sat down next to the fire god. You put on your best smile, hoping it was not obviously nervous. “What did you wish to discuss?”
“I just wanted to check if you were feeling alright, first.” Liu Kang responded, a gentle look on his face. You nodded, and it seemed that the god was pleased by the response. “Good, I didn’t get a chance to ask you after you went to get air yesterday.” You remembered that clearly, mostly because you had been only slightly avoiding him. You didn’t want to make too much of a fuss, but then again, here you were. It did feel nice to know that the fire god had still wished to check up on you.
“I’m alright, Lord Liu Kang.” You replied, your hands folding together as you relaxed just a touch more. “Is that all you wished to ask?” You inquired, tilting your head to the side just a bit. You had a feeling it wasn’t, seeing how he wished to speak privately. You doubted he would ask to speak alone if it were just that.
“No.” He said, confirming your suspicions. You straightened up a bit more, bracing yourself for the other question he was about to send your way. You saw him pause for a moment as he looked at you, observing your reaction. He leaned in a tiny bit more and his voice dropped to a whisper. “I wanted to ask again, are you having visions again?”
You hated how your body betrayed your thoughts. Immediately you stiffened up and you were certain your face contorted into a look of nerves and shock. You looked away as you forced yourself to relax, looking over the peaceful garden. You had basically given away the answer by body language alone, so you figured there was no point in lying about it this time.
“I am.” You confirmed, still not looking at Liu Kang. You were, for the time being, afraid of looking at him. You don’t know how many of your guarded secrets you’d let out if you told him. “It’s mostly memories of a different looking Outworld.” Your fingers drummed on your knee as you stared straight ahead, looking at the wonders of the garden. “It’s so…jarring.”
“I see.” Liu Kang said after a moment, seeming to take in your words. Before he could speak again, you decided to cut him off.
“Do you think an Outworld like that exists, one that is filled with more bloodshed and tyranny, or is it simply visions?” You inquired, testing the waters a bit. Maybe, just maybe if he thought so too, you wouldn’t be thought of as crazy if you did tell him. You turned your head just slightly to see his reaction. 
He was deep in thought, his lips just slightly pursed as he seemed to mull over your words. His eyebrows were furrowed the tiniest bit. After a moment, he shook his head, and your heart sank. 
“It is…unlikely.” Liu Kang spoke, the last word hanging in the air. You looked away from the god, closing your eyes. Perhaps you were truly alone in thinking that a past life existed that you lived. His hand covered yours in a comforting motion. You took in a deep breath, feeling your insides churn. Liu Kang probably misinterpreted your expression of unease from your visions. “Do not fret, that Outworld does not exist.”
Anymore, you finished in your head.
“I know.” You said, uncertain whether your words were lies or not. Were you just being crazy by believing that you were seeing a past life? Not even Liu Kang thought it had existed. Still, despite your uncertainty you felt the comfort of his hand. His hand squeezed yours gently, as if trying to anchor you.
“I am sorry that you are plagued with these visions. If I could, I would remove them from you.” Liu Kang told you, his words feeling like a soothing balm. Even though his words were meant to be comforting, a stupid part of you whispered in your head telling you that you didn’t want that. You couldn’t be getting these memories for no reason.
You’d figure out the reason alone if you needed to.
“Thank you for the sentiment.” You told him, opening your eyes and sending him your best smile. He smiled back, his smile much warmer than yours. You envied it, how could he look like the sun? You could feel your smile grow a little more, and you felt your face heat up for a reason you didn’t quite understand at the moment. You just felt warm. It wasn’t too odd, you supposed, seeing as Liu Kang was the fire god, so you pushed the odd, light feeling away. “Is that all you wanted to talk about?” You asked after doing just that. 
“Yes.” Liu kang told you with that same smile. After one last squeeze he released your hand. He stood up, seeming to be content after your small conversation. “I will let you explore Sun Do now, it is truly a prosperous place.” He nodded at you, looking at you fondly for one more moment before walking off. You sat there a moment longer, letting the conversation sink in a bit more.
You sighed as you leaned forward and rested your forearms on your thighs. You folded your hands and pressed them against your forehead, closing your eyes. You didn’t know what to make of the conversation you just had. The memories…visions…whatever they were, they didn’t feel fake. They felt too lived in, too real. 
Perhaps a past life was beyond comprehension for even a god. You doubted Liu Kang would lie to you if it were real, especially about something you’ve had for so long and was so important to you. As you continued to sit there deep in thought, you barely registered the footsteps that was headed your way until you noticed a shadow fall upon you.
“There you are, I’ve been looking for you.” You blinked as you registered the man standing in front of you as Rain. You sent him a perplexed look, but nodded to indicate he should go on. A friendly smile appeared on his face. “You were very intrigued by the prospect of the Imperial Academy, yes?” He inquired, and you slowly nodded. “Would you like to accompany me to see it tomorrow after the fight?” 
“I would be delighted.” You said without even thinking. A grin appeared on your face and for a moment you forgot about your worries, too excited over the idea of seeing a school full of magic. Your answer seemed to please the High Mage, and he nodded with satisfaction.
“Good. Perhaps you may learn a bit to further your own abilities.” He said.
“I suppose if there was a place to help learn my limits and how to push them, it would be a school dedicated to magic.” You said, nodded. The smile on Rain’s face remained. It was quite nice how you found someone who seemed enthusiastic over magic. 
“I shall see you tomorrow then.” He told you. Then, after that moment, he disappeared into the gardens. You were left feeling a bit happier. You let out a small sigh as you got up from the bench. You’ve had enough of sitting out here for now. That, and you supposed today would be a good start to finding gifts for the Lin Kuei trio.
You walked back to the Great Hall, intending to go to Sun Do through the entrance. You stepped in only to be surprised to see Raiden still standing there. He appeared to be milling about. Once he spotted you, the former farmhand seemed to light up and made a beeline for you.
“You’re still here?” You remarked. Your eyebrows raised as you scanned Raiden, trying to perceive the reason why he stuck around before he spoke. You watched as his smile turned just a tad more shy and there was just a barely perceptible dusting of pink along his cheeks. 
“Yes.” Raiden confirmed, nodding. He seemed to pause for a moment to consider his words. His head tilted downwards, his hat brim obscuring his face. Then, another moment passed before he lifted his head to show his face which seemed a touch more confident. “I wanted to wait for you to go see if you would like to go explore Sun Do together.” 
“You didn’t have to wait for me.” You replied, laughing a bit in surprise. You crossed your arms as you looked at the man. You were touched at the fact that he had wanted to wait for you. “I’d be honored to accompany the Earthrealm champion, though.” You told him, teasing him just a little bit. The smile on his face only seemed to get brighter at your words. “Maybe you can even help me.”
“With what?” Raiden inquired, now walking by your side. You both made your way down the hallway side by side. 
“I planned on buying some gifts for Bi-Han, Tomas, and Kuai Liang.” You explained, and in turn the farmhand nodded. “It’s not everyday that one gets to travel to Outworld, after all, and since they didn’t get to come I figured it would be nice to give them some gifts.” 
“Why don’t the Lin Kuei participate?” Raiden asked, a thoughtful look on his face. Your steps faltered for a moment as you considered his question. Why didn’t they participate, you tilted your head, considering the question. You’ve never quite thought about it.
“I guess I don’t know.” You replied after your little moment. Your footsteps resumed at their pace. “It has probably something to do with the tournament rules, I suppose.” You carded a hand through your hair. “I’ve never really questioned it.”
How much else have you never questioned? There was so much you’ve never really taken into account. Maybe you should start questioning things. It wasn’t good to be ignorant, after all.
Sun Do was still as pretty as ever. Banners, lanterns, and other decor lined the streets. Music filled the air and many of the citizens laughed and danced along the streets. Vendors shouted out their wares, and you listened in to see if any of it would be of use to you. You grinned as you passed by them all.
“It’s very lively out here.” You mused as you turned to look back at Raiden after a while of walking. To your surprise, he was gone. You stopped and scanned the crowd to look for him, but he was nowhere to be seen. Frowning you made your way to the side to see if you could find him better. After a few minutes of searching, you sighed as you failed to see him.
“May I help you?” A voice asked. Stiffening up, you turned to see a Naknadan woman standing within the store. She peered at you with wide eyes as she put away various weapons with her arms. At first, you were about to dismiss it, then you looked closer at the store. It was a weapons shop. You took a moment to look around, then noted the collection of karambits lined along the wall.
“Ah, yes.” You said as you eyed the collection. You stepped forward to get a closer look, observing the fine craftsmanship that went into every single one. It was then that you found it. A karambit with the blade a silver white. On the handle were intricate designs etched into almost akin to smoke. It was as long as Tomas’ personal karambit too, so he wouldn’t have to adapt. The safety ring was gold. “How much is this one?” You inquired, gesturing to the blade.
She told you the price, giving you a sunny smile. You reached into your bag, grabbing the money that Liu Kang had given you prior to the trip. She peered at you curiously, inquiring what the blade was for. Enthusiastically, you told her that the blade was a gift for a friend.
“Would you like for me to engrave something on it? I can engrave it upon the safety ring.” The lady asked. You lit up at the idea, smiling. With one arm, she plucked the blade from the wall and placed it upon a table. Then with a few other of her arms, she grabbed various tools from another table nearby. “What would you like?”
“Have strength, Tomas. From,” You spoke your name. The Naknadan woman nodded. Using another arm, she grabbed some glasses and placed it upon her face. You watched with awe as she precisely engraved the message you had said onto the ring. Then, she delicately placed into a velvet lined box to which she wrapped up and handed to you. “Thank you.”
“I hope whoever you gift that to will enjoy it.”
“I’m certain he will.” You said, turning to exit the shop. To your delight, you spotted Raiden standing outside the shop, looking puzzled and searching around the crowd. Making sure to keep your footsteps light, you snuck up upon the man. With a small smirk you placed a hand upon his shoulder, making him jump. “It seems I have a knack for sneaking up on you.”
“Yes…Yes you do.” Raiden said as he recovered from the little scare you had provided. You let out a laugh, squeezing his shoulder. After his recovery, he peered at the box you held in your hand. “Where did you wander off to?” 
“Well, after I noticed I had lost you in the crowd, I stepped to the side to try and look for you.” You told him before turning your head to look back at the shop you had stepped out of. “I happened to step inside there and happened to find a gift for Tomas.” You explained, lifting up the box and showing it off.
“I suppose that us splitting up was a good thing, then.” Raiden mused as he looked curiously at the box you held. He sent you a bright smile. “Would you like to continue to tour around Sun Do?” He asked you, and you nodded in return. You took your hand away from his shoulder and put away the box. As you turned back, you saw Raiden looking at you before he cleared his throat and turning away.
“What’s on your mind?” You asked. raising an eyebrow at the odd way he had reacted. 
“Oh, well…” Raiden trailed off, still looking away before he looked at you once more, forcing himself to look you in the eye. Then, gently, he took your hand. For a moment, you wondered if he used his amulet on accident, because you felt electricity surge through your veins. In your surprise, your face heated up. “I thought it’d be best if we held hands, just so we don’t get separated again.”
“I guess that’s pretty smart.” You said, still feeling your face flush at the unexpected contact. You looked away, from him as you cleared your own throat. Surely he must have accidentally used his amulet, that’s why you were feeling so odd. It’s not like you haven’t held anyone else’s hand, so why did this feel so…different? You felt his hand squeeze yours softly as he tugged at it. 
“Then let’s go.”
The rest of the day exploring Sun Do was quite fun. Despite all of the exploring you did all afternoon, there was still plenty left to discover. You decided you would have to spend a few more days to check it all out, especially since you had not found gifts to give both Bi-Han and Kuai Liang just yet. There were plenty of things you could have given them, surely, but it didn’t feel right.
Dinner went quite well as well. The food, though not as bountiful as the banquet, was still quite delicious. You had witnessed Kung Lao in action, he devoured enough for multiple men alone. That night, you returned back to your room quite satisfied. 
It wasn’t until later when you crept back out into the dead of night. Tanya, once more, assisted you to the Hanging Gardens in a dutiful way. With a raised eyebrow, she inquired whether you always stayed up this late, or was it just the travel? With a friendly smile, you admitted that you struggled going to sleep. With a satisfied hum, she nodded and let you roam the garden in peace.
“I’m glad you can remember our little arrangement. I would have been quite disappointed to have missed out on hearing another one of your entertaining stories.” Mileena remarked as she noticed you walking over. She sat on the same bench that you had sat on yesterday. With a smile, you noted how this evening she did not seem upset as she was yesterday. 
For a moment, you wondered what had happened to her that made her so upset. Then, you remembered that it was out of line to ask her that sort of question. 
“I would hate to disappoint you.” You replied as you took a seat beside her. You tilted your head up to observe the sea of stars above. The sky was so clear here, and you didn’t think you could get over the view. It was just so…beautiful. After basking in the sight, you turned to look at the princess with a smile. “Was there a particular story you would like to hear about?” You asked, mentally trying to remember all the sorts of movies your students had shown you.
“Do you have any stories of royalty?” Mileena inquired after a few short moments of thought. You hummed, closing your eyes as you thought through the movies you had seen. What story was worthy enough of a princess who was to be the empress one day? You tilted your head as your fingers drummed upon your knee.
“Well, perhaps this one will suffice…”
Mileena was very taken in by the story you told her. She listened carefully at your retelling, only stopping you here and there to ask for clarification. You supposed it was fair, since there were some cultural differences you forgot to account for at times. Still, it was pleasing to see the princess be so enraptured by the story.
“You are quite the storyteller.” The princess remarked as you finished your tale. You grinned, pleased as one should be when complimented by royalty. “Tell me, where did you hear these stories from?” She asked, she leaned just a touch closer to you, but she still kept a considerable distance from you on the bench. 
“In Earthrealm there are many other storytellers, I enjoy listening to their own tales that they share. They tell them far and wide, allowing for others to hear their stories as well.” You explained, not certain how to explain movies to the princess. “I only pass on their tales, just as they would have wished for.”
“I see.” Mileena took in your words, nodding. “Perhaps in the next tournament Earthrealm hosts I shall be able to listen to these stories from the other storytellers you speak of.” She said, seeming to be intrigued by your explanation.
“Johnny Cage, one of the ones here with the rest of us, knows many stories himself.” You told her. You held back a laugh at the face the princess made upon the name Johnny Cage. You wondered what he must have said to make her react that way. 
“I prefer listening to you much more than…him.” She admitted, her nose still scrunched up at the mention of the actor. She stood, stretching before looking back over to you. “Your stories continue to entertain, Earthrealmer. I would enjoy listening to you again.”
“And I would be honored to tell more of them to you, princess.” You told her, feeling quite pleased by the fact that your retelling of movies was enough to entertain royalty. “Would you like to meet back here tomorrow night?”
“Yes, that would be preferable.” Mileena confirmed, nodding. She sent you one last smile, one that was more genuine than the ones you’ve seen from her when she had to present herself as princess. “Sleep well, Earthrealmer.” She told you, then disappeared off into the night.
“Sleep well as well, princess.” You called out to her, taking a few more moments to sit in the gardens. You sighed as you thought of the things you’ve learned and experienced today. Outworld was proving to be more than you had initially expected.
What would await for you tomorrow?
part thirteen
tagged - @bonezisded @lollipopin @simpxinnie @zhivaxo @koisuko
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outsideratheart · 2 years ago
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Too Much Teasing (Mapi Leon x reader)
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A/N: You guys voted for the Mapi fic so here it is. I hope you like it!
Based off this request.
Life worked in mysterious ways and the past couple of years proved that. In a shock transfer you left Arsenal, your childhood club and the team that brought you up through the academy, for Barcelona.
The Spanish game came very easy to you but life off the pitch was more of a challenge. You are naturally a guarded person but there was one girl that managed to knock down your walls within the first few weeks. You and Mapi bonded over your shared love of tattoos, art and late night walks around the city.
You would see each other everyday which made being back in England for the Euros that much harder. Due the Barcelona's schedule you left for camp the morning after the Copa De La Reina final and you wouldn't be returning to Spain till August, should the tournament end with the Lionesses lifting the trophy.
But the thing about playing in Spain is that it sometimes felt like you lived two lives. For example, your England team mates had no clue you were dating the Zaragoza native. You were planning on telling them during the Arnold Cup but it was your first tournament as Captain and Mapi wanted you to focus. You were keeping the most important thing in your life from some of the most important people in your life.
You missed your girlfriend dearly and whilst you wanted nothing more than to drive to Marlow to see Mapi on your days off you know you couldn't so you settled for phone calls, more specifically late night phone calls. You walk aimlessly around the Teddington compound talking to Mapi about everything and anything. The sound of your girlfriend's voice had the power to distract you from the pressure that came with being the home favourites.
"Te quiero mucho baby"
You end the phone call and try your best to enter your room quietly as not to wake up your room mates.
"I take it i'll meet your secret girlfriend when I come to Barcelona?"
Lucy's voice makes you jump in your spot. Like every other night, you expected her to be asleep. You decide to ignore her question, choosing instead to get ready for bed but the defender continues her questioning whilst you’re in the bathroom.
"Will I meet her over dinner or at a team meeting?"
"Team meeting. Now no more questions" you warn her but she doesn't care.
"Am I going to be playing against her on Thursday?"
You freeze. Yes you were aware that England would be playing Spain in the quarter finals but what didn't register is that you are going to be playing against, and possibly beating, some of your closest friends.
"No way! You're dating Alexia!"
"What? No"
"It's just that you didn't answer"
"Because i've just realised that the next game we play will destroy mine and your team mates dreams of winning the euros"
"I thought you knew that. Isn't that the reason why you have been sad when you don't think people are watching?"
"I miss her a lot. This is longest we have been apart in a while and i'm finding it hard not being around her" You felt lighter having said out loud what you have been feeling for the last week.
You really wished that you could see Mapi before you play each other in Brighton. The fact that you wouldn't led to you being in a sour mood the next morning and it seemed to give the some of the players the perfect opportunity to make your mood worse.
"Hello grumpy, did somebody not get enough sleep?" Meado pokes your cheek as she sits down next to you.
"What can I say, Lucy snores like a pig" you know it wasn't your best work but hopefully it would change the direction of the teasing.
"No I don't!" Lucy argues "your grumpiness has nothing to do with me, it's because you miss your girlfriend"
"LUCY!" you glare at her from across the table.
"What?" the defender is no where near awake enough to realise what she has just said.
"Y/N has a girlfriend" Ella sings
"Who?"
"Is she english?"
"No she'll be Spanish"
"Is she hot?”
"Of course she is, look at Y/N" Alessia casually says.
"Lessi, you think i'm hot?" you ask the blonde knowing that she will get embarrassed.
"What, no" her response earns a scoff from you "no, I didn't mean that. I mean that you are, well you're you, we all see the way the fans obsess over you and some even flirt with you even though you don't back which I think is strange"
"It's because she has a girlfriend" Georgia turns the attention back to you.
This time instead of them asking questions they start guessing who it could be. They name the entire Spanish national team as well as the more known players in the league. Hempo is the one that guesses correctly but no way are you letting her know that.
In the end you walk away from the table, not that any of them have realised. Their attention was now on the non Spanish players playing in Spain. You make yourself another cup of coffee hoping that it will do one of two things, wake you up and ease the interrogation that you will be returning to.
"Y/N"
"What!" you snap.
When you turn around you are met with Ellen who has your phone.
"Your phone kept going off" The older forward passes you your phone. When you glance at your screen you see the name and a photo of the two of you which was taken over the Christmas period in Zaragoza.
"Mapito?" Ellen question.
"I called her it once, she changed the name of the contact" you explain.
The look on Ellen's face isn't one you recognise. It's similar to when she is happy about something but this expression has a hint of something else.
"I'm proud of you Y/N. I used the think you would never allow yourself to have a life off the pitch"
It wasn't what you were expecting her to say but you feel a warmth grow inside of you. She was right, for a long time you was solely focused on your career and everything else came second to that. Now you have someone who you will happily spend the day with and not give football a second thought whilst you are with her.
"Oh and one more thing" Ellen says "You don't have to worry about me telling them but please make sure you don't let it cloud your judgement during the game"
"Thank you Ells and you don't have to worry about that, I won't let them go back to Spain with bragging rights"
You try and think of the best place to call Mapi back, as you wander the ground you choose the garden at the front of the hotel. Butterflies flooded your tummy as you wait for her to pick up.
Mapi picks up but before she acknowledges that you have called her, you hear her shouting at Leila, then the other defender's voice comes through the phone.
"Y/N, you need to sort your girlfriend out. She is a sexually frustrated mess and only you can give her the pleasure she needs" Leila blatantly tells you.
"Yeah Y/N" your hear Pina's voice "Mapi is so in love with you that she seems to hate all of us when you're not here"
You found a tiny bit of comfort knowing that your girlfriend was subject to the same teasing you were getting.
"That's not true. She just loves me more now please give her the phone back"
You hear the sound of the line change and you know that one of them has put the phone on speaker.
"She's counting down the days until she can kiss away your sorrows when we beat you" Patri joins in.
"I admire your confidence or maybe it's your stupidity. Besides from what Mapi has told me, Jorge has been working you to the bone so it will be my pleasure to send you home so that you can all have some time off before pre season"
"I hate it when you do that"
Now you heard the voice of the woman you originally wanted to talk to.
"What's that maps?" you ask her.
"You say something mean but you do it in the nicest way possible"
"It's one of my many skills"
"I prefer your other skills"
"Mapi! There are kids around" you say referring to her younger team mates, who you happen to be close with as well.
"I'm alone now and I really wish I wasn't" you could hear the frustration in her voice.
"Maria Leon, do you always have sex on your mind?" you tease her.
"Sex, no. Sex with you, yes. Can you honestly say you don't miss me or that you don't crave my touch?"
"No, I can't. I miss you and everything that comes with you"
"We are not leaving our apartment for a week when we get home" Mapi's promise was something you looked forward to but it was also unrealistic.
"I wish that was true"
"Me too"
The line goes quiet and for a second you think she has hung up but then you hear her breathing and it worries you.
"We'll be ok after the game won't we? I know one of us will lose but it won't affect me and you will it?"
"You mean our relationship?"
Mapi hums in response.
"Of course not. I love playing football but nothing in this world means more to me than you. Is that what's got you so stressed out?" part of you knew something bigger was going on with your girlfriend. To most of the world she has this tough exterior but it couldn't have been further from the truth.
"The girls keep saying that if we beat you then you will break up with me"
"Which girls?" you asked the question even though you had your suspicions.
"Leila and —“
"I'll speak to her" you hated that the girls were teasing Mapi despite knowing how sensitive she can be "As for me breaking up with you, well the chances of that happening are lower than you beating us and that is very low"
"You know that playing against me will be harder than playing against any other team"
The cockiness in her tone was back and although you knew you could beat her, doing so would be very difficult.
"Oh yeah, why is that?"
"Because I know how you think and how you play. I know your mind and your body"
You hated thinking about the power Mapi had over. She was right when she said you knew your mind and body, at this point it practically belonged to her. Your mind was at it's calmest when she was around and your body yearned for her whenever you were away.
A short distance away you see Ella and Alessia hiding, no doubtedly eavesdropping on your call and whilst most people would end the conversation you are about to have or at least steer it in a different direction, you saw the chance to teach the young forwards a lesson.
"You do? What is my body thinking right now?"
Their eyes widen at your words but they don't move. It's as if the stare you give is causing them to be frozen in place.
You try to keep the rest of the conversation as vague as possible but Mapi makes it very difficult because for every reply you give she responds with a suggestion that makes you want to drive all the way to Marlow.
In the end Mapi gets called away which ends the call a lot sooner than you wanted but you know you are in for quite the teasing, that's if Ella and Alessia have the guts to share details of your call with the rest of the team.
"My little devils, what am I going to do with you?" you put an arm around each of their shoulders.
The three of you walk back through the hotel in silence. It is clear the younger girls don't feel comfortable discussing what they heard on the phone. That is until you reach the breakfast room where some of the players are still lounging about.
"Y/N was having phone sex with her girlfriend" Tooney shouts.
"Ella!" Me and Alessia say in unison.
It wasn't that you didn't expect her to say anything, it’s more so the fact that she announced it to the whole room as soon as she entered.
"And you did it in front of the kids?" Jill jokes.
Jill then proceeds to console a scared Ella but you couldn't care less.
"The kids happened to be eavesdropping and I was enjoying my phone call way to much to stop on their behalf"
Some of the younger players fake gagged at the thought but the older players knew you wouldn't have said anything that bad given that you had kept your relationship a secret, so your sex life wouldn't be any different.
"Give me three clues" Leah asks when you take at a seat at her table, which also sat Lucy, Keira, Georgia, Millie and Rachel.
You expected better from your co captain but you knew the clues you would give and your friends would hate them.
"Fine" you reply much to the table's surprise "3 clues. She's from Spain, she speaks Spanish and she plays for Barcelona"
The first two are obvious but the third clue let’s them narrow down their list of names.
"Did you really have phone sex knowing they could hear you?" Millie asks.
"God no. Do you really think I'm going to have that kind of conversation in public where everyone can hear me and where I can do nothing to satisfy the urges that come with it?"
"Y/N!"
"Just saying"
When the team arrive at the stadium a few days later, they watch you and wait to see if you will give away the identity of your Spanish girlfriend. You on the other hand start to get nervous about what this game means and what it will take in order to reach the semi finals. You would have to outplay the people who you, for the most part, train with every day.
You wanted nothing more than to skip right through the pitch inspection. Since finding out you were dating a Barcelona player, the team have been teasing you relentlessly and you didn't have the energy to go toe to toe with them today. When you walk out onto the pitch you see that the Spain team are already there and when you see a certain defender you remember that you need to talk to her. The team watch as you and the Spanish national walk away and you can hear them shouting things but given the eyes around them the don't say that much.
"Y/N" Leila wraps her arms around you "I've missed you chica"
The conversation you had with Mapi kept replaying in your head. The seeds of doubt that her friends had planted began growing and you couldn’t doing anything to stop them, not right now anyways.
"Leila"
"Am I in trouble?" you nod your head "Why?"
"Do you know why Mapi is worried i'll break up with her?" from where you stand you can see your girlfriend bent down at the centre circle doing her own inspection, something that is part of her pre match routine.
"It was a joke which now that I see your face I realise isn't funny"
"She is one of your best friends, you know how sensitive she is. Just think before you say things that will stick in her head. Now we're going to see her so that you can apologise"
"You just want me to come with you so that your team doesn't get suspicious"
There’s no need for you to respond, she is right and she knows it.
"Hi"
Mapi's head snaps up at the sound of your voice.
"Hola bonita" she stands up and gives you a hug, one that doesn't last no where near as long as she wanted.
No words are exchanged, both of you break out in a smile, just being within touching distance is enough for now.
"Is this my punishment? Being made to stand here whilst you eye fuck each other?" Leila groans. She is used to be the third wheel in Barcelona having joined you and Mapi on date night more than a few times but the tension between the two of you makes her feel a little uncomfortable.
"Punishment?" Mapi looks to see you with a smug grin plastered across your face.
"Right, yes. Leila is there something you would like to say?"
"I'm sorry for saying Y/N would break up with you when we destroy the lionesses"
"Destroy?" you laugh slightly at the defender's optimism.
"You know I love your confident side but Leila's right, we will go back to Spain victorious"
"I know don't what's worse, the fact you think you're going to win or that you just said Leila's right"
Leila asks if you'll walk back with her stating that she had something she wanted to talk to you about. The conversation ended with you walking back into the tunnel with your arms wrapped around her shoulder whilst your hand rested on her waist.
Your team mates takes you spending most of the time with the brunette as confirmation, they are determined that you are dating Leila Ouahabi. In the locker room you got question after question about how your relationship starting and it didn't both you in the slightest, how could it, they had the wrong person. Once you re entered the locker room after warm up the teasing stopped and the game faces appeared.
The match ended with England going through to the semi final but you couldn't bring yourself to celebrate. This would go down as the worst win in your career but being the captain came with duties that you couldn't get out of. You thanked the fans and did your interview but neither of those could keep your focus because no matter where you were on the pitch you could see your friends in red consoling each other.
"Aren't you going to console your girlfriend?" Lucy asks.
"You know what, yes I am" you had watched from a distance for long enough.
Lucy who had been joined by Keira watches are you walk towards the group of Barcelona players. Like Lucy expected you went to Leila first but for you it was because she was the closest person to you, funnily enough Mapi is the last person. You had seen her wear a brave face for the sake of her team mates but it is only when she is in your arms does she drop the facade.
"I'm sorry" you subtly kiss her neck.
The embrace between you is different than the one you shared with your other team mates. When you lift you head up you see Lucy watching with shocked expression. When you unclasp your hands that are settled on the small of Mapi's back, you send Lucy the middle finger. The action let's her know that she was wrong and in doing so you tell her who you're dating.
"What's that about?" Keira asks.
"You'll find out when you join me in Barcelona"
"Shhh" Keira shoves her girlfriend "I told you it was a secret"
You stay out on the pitch as long as the Spain team does. You have no intention of celebrating the win and you hoped the fans and your team would understand this. When the stadium starts to empty, the players leave the pitch.
"Do you they know about us?" Mapi asks as she walks in sync beside you.
"Ellen does but the rest think I'm dating Leila"
This causes Mapi to stop in her tracks. Her eyes go wide in shock and she finds herself getting angry. She didn't like the act the world didn't know you were hers but your team mates thinking that you were with Leila, that she really didn't like.
"I'm not ok with that"
At this point you are practically in the tunnel so you grab her hand and pull her into one of the treatment rooms. You were grateful for the privacy it gave you and under any other circumstance you would be up for having a little bit of fun but you can tell by Mapi's face that she is very serious about this.
If her face didn't give it away, her choosing to pace the small room instead of sitting with you on the physio bench with you did.
"You're my girlfriend, not Leila's, and I don't want your team thinking you are dating my best friend"
To see Mapi care this much about people, who to her are strangers, is a rarity. You didn't care much for other people's opinions so whether the team knew or not, didn't matter. This was something you thought Mapi agreed with you on but her reaction tells you otherwise.
"Mapi" you voice is soft as you try to get her attention.
"I know that it's me who chose not the tell them at the beginning of the year but that was a mistake. They should know that you are mine and not hers"
Now she is getting territorial, a side which rarely ended well in the past. Mapi didn't like to share but this isn't sharing, your team don't even think of Mapi when they think of your relationship which makes it worse.
"Maria" you hope using her birth name will make her stop but it doesn't.
"Y/N I love you and I don't want them thinking you love Leila. You love me"
"Yes, I do"
Fatigue was beginning to set in. After playing 120 minutes of football your legs were getting heavy and given that Mapi had the job of keeping up with you for the game, you knew she would be feeling the same yet she continues to pace back and worth as she worked through her frustrations.
"Do they think Leila makes you happy? That she can love you the way I do? Make you feel the way I do? That—"
"Maria Pilar Leon Cebrian"
"Yes" she stops pacing when she is in line with you.
Using your index finger you signal her to come close to you. Her face changes and you know it's because she has finally noticed you are in a room together, alone. When she is close enough you take a fistful of her shirt to close the remaining distance between the two of you. Mapi’s hand cups the back of your neck as your lips crash into each other. The time you spend away from each other never get’s easier and it makes the reunions that much more intense. Nothing else matters in that moment other than to rid Mapi of the insecurities she is clearly feeling. When you pull away it is only for a second to catch your breath and then you are leaning back in, hungry for more and by the way Mapi mouth moves in sync with yours she obviously misses the connection you shared just as much as you did.
You are so caught up in the moment that you don’t hear the door open, nor you do you hear the voices that belonged to your team mates. At first they say nothing, they simply stand there and watch the two of you. They didn’t know what to do, they didn’t want to move in case they made a noise and it was clear that the two of you didn’t plan on stopping any time soon.
It is only when you start to lift Mapi’s t-shirt do they make themselves known.
“Sorry to interrupt but this is the treatment room and some of the others are on their way here” Chloe gives you a heads up.
What they didn’t see is that you already have your shirt off and Mapi being mapi, she didn’t bother putting hers on fully, instead it stays hung around her neck.
Just then another door open, one that you didn’t even notice was there and given the commotion that you can hear on the other side let’s you know it connects to the lionesses locker room. Your suspicions are proven true when you see Ella and Georgia, their eyes widen at the sight in front of them, you half dressed and Mapi not that much better
“Hempo!” Georgia shouts “You were right. Y/N’s secret girlfriend is Mapi Leon” 
Mapi still stands in between your legs and shows no sign of moving. You rest your head against her chest hoping that if the two of you stay still and quiet then the team will leave you alone but that doesn’t happen.
“How do you know?” Beth comes into the small treatment room followed by a couple more of your team mates.
You thought the teasing was bad before but now they know the identity of your girlfriend they have a lot more material to use against you. Something that is surprising is that a few of them tease Mapi even though they haven’t really met her other than on the pitch.
You tap Mapi’s sides indicating her to move away so you can stand up and put your shirt back on and help her with hers. You quickly peck her on the lips before taking her hand and dragging her into the Lionesses locker room. If you introduced her properly then maybe the night back at the hotel won’t be complete torture.
“Mapi meet the lionesses, girls meet Mapi my girlfriend”
You can see the grin that spreads across Mapi’s face upon hearing you officially introduce her as your partner. She had been waiting for this for months and you had too.
“Wait” Rachael interrupts the questions that the girls have “I thought you were dating Leila Ouahabi, their number 15”
“No, she is not’ Mapi corrects her rather abruptly “She is my girlfriend” 
You had just managed to settle down her territorial side and now, without knowing, Rachael had woken it back up.
“But Y/N spent all her time pre match with her, not you” Millie joined in and by the smirk of her face you know that she, for some reason, felt confident enough to tease the spaniard.
Mapi is ready to fight for you even though it is unnecessary and you really didn’t want her going back into her changing in a foul mood given that most her team will be feeling rough because of the final score.
“You sure you want to tease her millie?” You know Mapi wouldn’t hurt a fly but there is a reason why she got ‘looks can be deceiving’ on her neck.
Mapi picks up on the game you are playing and she changes her face. Safe to say Millie steps back without saying another word.
You lead Mapi out of the changing room but one of your team mates can’t help themselves. They had to tease your girlfriend on last time.
“Sorry we beat you and sent you back to Spain” Alessia says confidently.
Mapi knew she was one of the players you had taken under your wing but she can’t let the young forward get away with it.
“It’s ok. We’ll beat you in the champions league. Oh, wait, no we won’t. You didn’t qualify” 
At the mention of United Ella stands up ready to defend her club and after the game you had just played you really didn’t have the energy to play mediator between your girlfriend and the devils.
You push Mapi out the door but pull her back for one more kiss.
“I’ll see you tomorrow for breakfast before you go back to Barcelona” 
Mapi deepens the kiss and you don’t have the will power you push her away, not at first anyways. It is only when you hear a mixture of wolf whistles and fake gagging do you end the kiss. 
“I’ll see you in the morning. Te quiero Y/N”
“Yo también te quiero” 
Upon re-entering your locker room you see all eyes on you. Let the teasing begin, again.
874 notes · View notes
four-loose-screws · 4 years ago
Text
FE Expo II - FE16 Stage Drama Translation
FE Game Script Translations - FE Novel Translations - Original FE Support Conversations
If you are interested in donating to support my work, please check out my Ko-fi here. Thank you!
———————————
Fire Emblem Expo II - Stage Drama
Fire Emblem: Three Houses
“A Lively Arts Festival Meeting”
Cast: Claude, Dorothea, Felix, Ignatz
BGM: ‘Everyday Life at Garreg Mach Monastery’
-
Claude: Umm, first, I’d like to thank you all for gathering here today.
Dorothea: We don’t need the introduction, so please skip to the point.
Felix: Could you hurry up and get this over with? And I don’t need these tea sweets.
Ignatz: Hold on, everyone! Let’s listen to what Claude has to say.
Claude: ...I, um, tried to start this groundbreaking meeting that overcomes the boundaries between our classes with so much care that it would inspire all of you, but now it seems like my efforts were lost on every single one of you...
Dorothea: I heard about our task from Eldie. There will be an opening event before the White Heron Cup, and us four will organize it.
Claude: ...Wait, you heard about it?
Felix: Sylvain harassed me and forced me into representing the Blue Lions. Said he was going back into town. Argh, why am I stuck doing something like this…
Ignatz: So Sylvain was the first choice? I agree that he certainly would have been better.
Claude: Those chosen were gathered because they are the most artistic of Garreg Mach’s students. What makes every event stand out is, of course, the arts. Dorothea is the Mystical Songstress, Ignatz’s hobby is painting, and… Sylvain seems like the type to appreciate the arts.
Felix: Then I’d be of no use. And you don’t need me here to watch, either. Let me know what my responsibility is after you’ve decided on it.
Felix tries to leave.
Claude: Hey, wait a second! Um, think about it, you’re, uh, really good at repairing weapons and stuff, right? That, in a way, requires something of a sense of aesthetics, doesn’t it?
Ignatz: Though you only seem to do it to improve how well they can cut…
Dorothea: Don’t say anything more than you have to!
Felix returns.
Felix: ...Hmph. ...Continue. And be quick about it.
Claude: Then allow me to start. In short, this is meant to get everyone excited for the White Heron Cup, but we can’t take it lightly just because it’s an opening act. It’s like the preparations before enjoying a party. Think of it as an important duty that will get everyone excited for the big event.
Felix: The White Heron Cup, huh…? Why that…?
Dorothea: Awww, Felix! It’s too bad you weren’t chosen to be a dancer, isn’t it?
Felix: Ch… Who would pick me to be a dancer? I was just thinking about how relieved I am that I wasn’t chosen.
Ignatz: Hey now, don’t change the subject. That’s not what we’re here to talk about.
Claude: First, shall we try sharing the ideas we each think might be good, one by one? Dorothea, you’re first.
Dorothea: Of course, I think an opera would be best. A burning, passionate love story is sure to mesmerize our audience.
Claude: That’s not a bad idea, but doesn’t it take away from the dancing a little bit? What do you think, Ignatz?
Ignatz: How about we host an art gallery of works from the students talented in art? That would invigorate everyone, and it wouldn’t be a festival without any divine ornaments!
Felix: If there’s a decorative sword… then that’s not a half bad idea.
Ignatz: You think it’s a good idea too, Felix!? Then let’s make something together!
Claude: What are you thinking of, Felix?
Felix: How about a duel to get everyone’s blood pumping? It’ll double as training.
Dorothea: I knew you’d say that!
Claude: Ha ha ha…
Ignatz: So how about you, Claude?
Claude: A duel would injure some students, and then they wouldn’t be able to enjoy the festival we all worked so hard to put together… I know, how about we have a long distance archery tournament?
Felix: You… just want to showcase your archery skills, don’t you?
Claude: Figured it out, huh? Then how about we gather up some food and drinks suitable for the occasion, and make some noise?
Dorothea: You just want to have a feast!
Claude: Figured that out too, huh? Hmm, we can’t seem to make a decision, huh?
Dorothea: Perhaps we should try thinking up what ideas everyone else would propose.
Claude: For example?
Dorothea: Hubie would suggest a tactics seminar. Ferdie would want a horseback riding exhibition. And if Ingrid were here, she’d surely… I know! She’d suggest to open a bunch of different food stalls, or something like that.
Ignatz: Lorenz would likely agree with my art gallery idea. And Hilda seems to like accessories, so I think she’d be on my side, too.
Felix: You’re supposed to be suggesting people who would have different ideas than you.
Ignatz: Y-You’re right. Raphael and Lysithea would agree with the food stall idea Dorothea mentioned. Lysithea really likes sweets.
Felix: Hmph… sweets, huh? ...I wouldn’t vote for that, but Ashe might get excited about it. And accessory related stuff sounds like Annette’s thing…
Ignatz: Felix, no matter what anyone else says, you really pay attention to your classmates!
Felix: Ch…
Dorothea: Petra knows a lot about Briggid’s unique culture, so maybe she would collect many rare items from her homeland, then host an exhibition of them.
Ignatz: And Leonie seems to collect used, worn-out things, so she might have something we could put in an exhibition, too. Each of us would gather up things we want to display, and maybe we’d even critique them.
Claude: Hmm, Marianne would suggest an exhibition as well, but she seems to like animals more.
Dorothea: Wow, we’ve come up with a lot of different ideas, huh?
Claude: We certainly have! But now we don’t have a way to choose which one to go with… hm? Hey, I’ve got an idea! We have the perfect person to ask for an opinion, don’t we!
Ignatz: Yeah, you’re right! We were so slow to realize it!
Dorothea: We really were! They’re almost always quiet, but we’ve always had someone right next to us who leads us to the best decision at times like these. Tee hee.
Claude: Ha ha, we certainly have. The person who usually fishes all day, eats too much at lunch, and is the most reliable out of everyone, was right here all along. Alright then, let’s try asking them. What do you think about that?
All Four: Professor!
All four look at the audience seating.
Claude: Hmm, you seem to be more quiet than usual today. Um, then, for the time being, let’s do this. Could you please clap for whichever of the ideas we came up with together that you like best?
Dorothea: Yes, let’s do that! I’ll start. The opera, combining song and theater, is best, isn’t it, Professor?
All four look at the audience seating.
Ignatz: I’m next! What do you think about the art gallery, Professor?
All four look at the audience seating.
Felix: My turn. Nothing is better than a duel. You think so too, right?
All four look at the audience seating.
Claude: And last is me! A feast!
All four look at the audience seating.
Dorothea: H-Hold on a minute! You wanted an archery tournament, didn’t you?
Claude: Oh yeah, that was it! An archery tournament, Professor!
All four look at the audience seating.
Claude: Hmmmm… There was a difference in how loud their clapping was for each option, but I feel that Professor is saying they really want to see them all.
Dorothea: This is bad! Even if we ask Professor, we still can’t decide! What are we to do?
All four look at the audience seating.
Claude: I wonder… Huh? What is it? You have a really good idea? ...Uh-huh. ...Uh-huh.
All four look at the audience seating.
Claude: What!? You’re suggesting we try them all!?
Dorothea: You mean the opera, and the duel, and the art gallery?
Ignatz: Together with the food stalls, and the rare items critique!?
Felix: Hey, how much work do you think we can do!?
Claude: But in the end, if everyone has their own thing they want to do, deciding to reject their feelings outright wouldn’t be right. Asking each person what they’d like to do, procuring the location and necessary items, then providing assistance from the background in order to not get behind and get everything ready in time for the White Heron Cup, might be all the work us main four have to do…
Ignatz: Yes, I think so too! We don’t have to quarrel over the best idea, and this way, everyone will likely be able to work hard in a positive environment.
Dorothea: It is a good idea, isn’t it! Let’s try it! If we tell everyone about this plan, surely they’ll cooperate with us.
Felix: If I can make it into a competition, then I won’t mind whatever it is I’ll have to do. If possible, I’d like to work with Dimi… I mean, the boar prince.
Claude: Ha ha! Then let’s try it out! Us four, as the representatives, will spread the word. Thanks, Professor!
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jazznoted · 4 years ago
Note
how do you think battle season is gonna go? it feels like nothing is making sense anymore.
We answered this in a discord call! It was fun to just sit down and record our thoughts, but we rambled quite a lot and cut out stuff like us going UHHHH for a good ten seconds. But here’s our thoughts about HypMic’s 2nd Battle Season. Wish we could put out the whole thing but y’all don’t want 10 mins of us ahaha.
MITSU: This is something we’ve debated about a lot. 
FUMI: As of now, there are 6 known teams in the DRB, but that doesn’t suit a regular tournament bracket structure. But by how the ‘Before the 2nd DRB’ CDs are, it seems as if we’ll be having BB vs DH, MTC vs FP, and MTR vs BAT, at least for the 1st round. After than, having 3 teams face off against each other seems CRAZY! Perhaps another team will come in mid-battle season, or another two may appear?
MITSU: We can definitely count that Chuoku will not be participating in the DRB since they’ve nothing to gain from competing - not to mention the in-universe backlash of the government trying to participate in it’s own competition.
But I personally feel like Battle Season is difficult to think about. I’ve talked a lot about FP potentially pulling from the DRB because Ichijiku tried to kill Ramuda, and if he rocked up to the DRB, they might try to kill him again. 
FUMI: It kinda feels like there’s nothing worth it if anyone wins or loses right now, huh?
MITSU: And none of the other teams really have any reason to participate in the DRB apart from it being some sort of ‘civic duty’ because Chuoku makes them do it, and that they have a community to give back to (i.e. Jakurai donating to hospitals, BB helping out Ikebukuro in general). BB won’t personally gain from winning. MTC winning won’t get Nemu back to them because she’s an important puppet for them. FP I’ve already addressed. MTR... I’m not really sure if they have a conflict this time around asides from the Hitoya/Jakurai issue.
As of now, I feel like Battle Season kinda doesn’t have it’s own purpose or stakes and it’s just gonna be fun to watch them fight. At least, if someone loses, it doesn’t seem like there’ll be any major consequences for now, but who knows.
What if we just straight up Hunger Games’d it, because that’s how the series is. Right? Then the ones who have the least number of votes... Will have a character killed off.
[ Noises of distress ]
FUMI: I dunnot bout ‘major consequences’ cause MTR won last round and they didn’t get any suffering at all from those Before the 2nd DRB CDs, right? We had [SPOILERS] BB’S family identity being questioned, Samatoki discovering what happened to Nemu, Ramuda almost getting reduced to scrap? MTR got away pretty good. Maybe winning the DRB just means you won’t suffer so much in the next season.
MITSU: Like ‘oh this team is developed enough to win, so let’s put more towards the others, right?’
FUMI: Right now, DH and BAT are just complementary to the other teams. They’re just in it because Chuoku threw mics at them - like the rest of the guys. There’s no point to anyone fighting, but seeing as how everyone’s interconnected in some way, it’s just not apparent now.
MITSU: I feel like there won’t be any character exposition in the Battle Season dramatracks, cause last time we only got that Saburo and Jiro can actually rely on each other and Gentaro has some sort of complex with his clothing.
FUMI: Then it’ll come in the off season! More plot during then, right?
MITSU: Probably.
TLDR: We have no idea how things would work but Battle Season doesn’t seem to have as many stakes as it should... 
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marinaaniseed · 5 years ago
Text
Dark ‘n’ Stormy, Pt: 10
Summary: Asgardian v. Pizza buffet A.K.A. The Stuffing Chapter.
There’s a teeny, tiny bit of important plot before we get to that point. I’ve tried to very clearly flag the point of no return, so nobody get their undies in a twist if you continue and don’t like what you read.
Length: 6.7k-ish. Much like our hero, I may have overdone it this chapter...
Notes: The slices of pizza are of a size that works for you. If you’ve seen Bad Times at the El Royale, one of the scenes may seem somewhat familiar to you. My unending thanks go to @nobzob​ for encouraging me and for beta-reading this. Also, I made a deal with @thors-soft-cheeks​ that I would write this chapter, so hopefully it meets your expectations :)
Warnings: Eh the usual. Kinky food stuff, smut, drinking, swearing, brief mention of periods and babies, mental health wonkiness, Asgardian politics.
That summer was scorching.
“It’s as hot as hell out there,” you proclaimed one afternoon, collapsing onto the settee, sweat running down your face.  
“But Hel isn’t hot,” Thor observed, his head tilted to the side in confusion like an overgrown Labrador puppy. Geri and Freki mirrored his pose from where they lay on the floor.
“What do you mean it’s not hot? Isn’t it supposed to be full of fire? To burn the sinners? That’s what they taught us at school.”
“Ah, is this from one of your Midgard stories?”
“No,” you said indignantly, before softening. “Well, I suppose so. But a lot of people take them very seriously.”
“Hel is on Niflheim. It is full of cold, mist, and ice. It is where my father imprisoned my sister. You mean it’s as hot as Muspelheim outside, yes?”
“Which one is Muspelheim again?” You’d tried to follow Thor’s explanations of the universe, had even tried to learn the Asgardian language with him. You weren’t stupid, but you were no Jane Foster, either. It was hard to unlearn many of the things that you thought were facts.
“The one where I was captured by Surtur,” Thor explained, wincing a little at the memory of how Asgard had been destroyed.
“The fire demon guy?”
“That’s the one,” Thor said, wandering off to the kitchen to grab you a drink of water. Handing you the glass, he sat down next to you, removing some of the strands of hair that had stuck to your face with sweat.
“How’re you feeling about tomorrow?” you asked, once you’d finished gulping down the water, giving yourself brainfreeze in the process.
“Quite nervous,” he admitted. “And you?”
“Nervous for you, I suppose.”
Tomorrow was the anniversary of New Asgard’s founding, and a day of celebrations were planned. Traditional tournaments and games, feasting, drinking, dancing. But it was also to be the day when the results of the vote would be announced.
After the census, there had been a consultation. Every adult Asgardian had been asked their thoughts on how they wished to be governed. These answers were collated, and a vote held. Every option was there and the Asgardians had to rank them in preference. If none of the options received over 50% of the vote, then the least popular one would be eliminated, and those who had voted for that option would have their second preference counted. On it would continue until an option received the requisite amount of interest. It wasn’t a perfect system, but you all hoped it would lead to an outcome that most people were vaguely in favour of.
Thor and Brunnhilde had agreed, both publically, and privately to honour the result, whatever it was. You worried for them both. There were plenty of outcomes that neither of them particularly desired. Some of Thor’s friends, visiting New Asgard for the celebrations, had kindly agreed to count the votes, as neutral outsider.
Thor was doing a lot better, although he still had days where he wobbled. Taking responsibility for some of the smaller things, especially the animals, had given him more purpose. You didn’t want it all to be undone by the result.
“Perhaps we should go out for dinner tonight,” you mused after a while, your hand resting on Thor’s. “We could walk into Tønsberg, get away from everything.”
“Yes, that could be good.”
STOP HERE IF YOU ONLY WANTED THE PLOT NECESSARY BITS. IF YOU CONTINUE AND THEN BITCH ABOUT THE KINKY SHIT, THAT’S ON YOU. I WARNED YOU.
Thor had been working on his anxiety, venturing a little further each day with the dogs, or riding on one of the horses. He regularly made it into Tønsberg now. There was one restaurant in particular that had caught his eye. A place where you can eat as much pizza, sour cream and salad as you want. He wondered just much pizza he could eat.
That was the thing that he’d noticed, now that food was becoming a pleasure again, not a means to distract from his feelings. He enjoyed eating. Not just in the way that most people enjoyed tasting something delicious. There was something erotic about it, the cocktail of pleasure and pain as he pushed his stomach to its limits. Yes, he definitely wanted to find out how much pizza he could eat. He’d even heard they did dessert pizzas now, although he wasn’t sure if the restaurant did those, or even if he’d like them.
It’d probably be like how you’d described deep-fried Mars bar and ice cream to him: They took a bunch of things I love and turned it into something I hate.
Thor wondered if you enjoyed watching him eat, helping him to eat. He hoped you did, suspected you did. You always made a little too much, brought back an extra little treat, ordered too much then shared, or more accurately, gave it to him. He’d seen the way you looked at him when you thought he wasn’t paying attention. Sometimes he’d push out his stomach a little more or pretend to scratch an itch, moving the hem of his top up to rub the flesh he knew you wanted to touch. It was worth it for your reaction, every time. Widening eyes, rosier cheeks, a smile that told him how much you loved him. Then, of course, there had been the feast. You kneading and feeding him at the table.
Yes, you definitely enjoyed it.
For a long time, he’d felt like his fat gut was something to be ashamed of, that made him unworthy of the affections of another. And maybe you were the only one, maybe you were a cosmic anomaly. That didn’t seem right, but even if you were, of all the trillions that existed, now, in the past, or in the future, you were here in the right place, at the right time, to love him.
That felt good. It felt different. And he realised that what he had known in the past was lust, awe, fear. It was far better to be loved than to be feared, though anyone sensible would still exercise caution.
It hadn’t been easy, to accept this version of himself - when you spend over a millenia with roughly the same body, it takes a while to adjust. It’d be a fine day indeed when a person was judged on what they did, not what they looked like. But for now he would settle for having someone not be repulsed by his body, but actually attracted to it.
Your insistence on touching him was uncomfortable at first. It chafed at the edges of his esteem and confidence. But now it was familiar, something he welcomed, something he sought. His hand would move yours to his stomach when you were sat together, holding it there. He always asked if you wanted to join him in the bathroom, to lather him up, and gently apply lotions. The majority of the time, he fell asleep as the little spoon, you holding onto him as though he was the most precious thing in your life. Even though they woke him up, he found your sleep twitches endearing, the way your fingers tried to press and grab his hairy tummy as it rounded out in front of him.
In fact, the only time he really got to be the big spoon was during your period. He had, in his defence, offered to use his powers to rid you of the inconvenience, but you liked the reassurance of knowing that you weren’t pregnant. You had, however, allowed him to ease some of the side-effects. During that time, you practically begged him to hold you, to be the big spoon. I like it when you press your stomach into the small of my back, you told him, it’s like a warm, squishy cushion to ease my pain. He didn’t like that you were in pain but was glad to be of help. He hoped his fingers resting on your abdomen soothed the cramps he knew you felt, but kept to yourself. Perhaps one day his fingers would rest there and bring comfort to his unborn child?
***
You’d taught him how to use Google, and he’d looked up when the restaurant was least likely to be busy. Being in crowded places was getting easier, but Thor still preferred to avoid them. Most Norwegians tended to eat earlier, so the restaurant was fairly quiet when you arrived just after 9pm.
Sliding across the dark brown leather seating of the booth, you began looking at the drinks menu.
“Why does friend Hulk get his own drink and I do not?” Thor queried, pointing at a brandy cocktail. Looking at the little picture printed in the menu, you can see why they’d named the green drink after Banner’s alter ego.
“Well, it’s not named after you but I think this is pretty close,” you countered, indicating the Dark ‘n’ Stormy.
“I am not dark.”
“No, no you are not. But you do like your storms,” you said, with a smile. “Or there’s this one,” you added, showing him the Angel Face.
“You flatter me far too much, my love,” Thor said, taking your hand in his. “This one is you,” he decided, pointing at the Flirtini.
“Very good,” you laughed. “Any other cocktail matches you can see?”
“This one, the Red Russian. That is Agent Romanoff. The Brooklyn, that is Captain Rogers. Long Island Iced Tea is Stark.”
“I understand the first one, but not the other two?”
“Those are the names of the places where they are from.”
“Ah, I see. I thought this was more appropriate for Steve Rogers,” you said, showing him the Old Fashioned. Thor laughed, long and hard at that one. It startled the few other people in the restaurant with you, but you didn’t mind. Thor had been so stressed lately, you’re just pleased to hear him laugh again, to see him relax a little. You decided to up the ante a little bit and earn your match with the Flirtini.
“So, bear,” you said softly, so he had to cock his head towards you to hear you. “I was thinking after the dinner, we could try these three,” you smirked, spreading the fingers of your free hand to point at the Sex on the Beach, Slow Comfortable Screw Against the Wall, and the Screaming Orgasm.
“Only three?” he grinned. “I think this one is relevant to your interests,” he said, moving the hand he held underneath his shirt while gesturing to the Hairy Navel. That earned a laugh from you, not as loud as Thor’s but just as mirthful.
A quiet, but pointed cough from the end of the table drew your attention to your server. His name badge said ‘Tor’ and you wondered if he realised who your dinner companion was.
“Can I get you any drinks?” he asked.
“A Flirtini for me, please,” you answered.
“And a Dark ‘n’ Stormy for me,” Thor added. “Tell me, how does this pizza buffet work?”
“Well, there is a pizza bar over there, behind me,” Tor said, gesturing. “You just take a plate and serve yourself, you can have as much pizza, salad and sour cream as you like for 134 kroner. It’s only our most popular pizzas but there’s something for everyone.”
“And there is no limit to the amount you can have?” Thor clarified, and that was when you realised why you were here.
“No, we just ask that people don’t take more than they can eat. Oh, and the kitchen closes at 10:30 so that we can close at 11. So yeah, go right ahead and I’ll bring your drinks over to you in a few minutes.”
With that, Tor turned on his heel and went to the bar.
“I see why we’re here,” you smirked at your lover as you made your way over to the pizza. “You’ve got your work cut out though,” you added, showing him your watch.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Thor said, beginning to think this was a bad idea.
“You want to see how much pizza you can eat. A lot more than I can, that’s for sure.”
You moved along the pizza bar, assessing your options, looking at the little signs in front of each of the cheesy wheels. Cheese and tomato, ham and pepperoni, ham and mushroom, spicy chicken, Thai chicken, beef and béarnaise, meat feast, chorizo and Ventricina, cauli truffle, vegetarian, beef and onion, BBQ chicken, Parma and truffle. If this was just the most popular ones, you were intrigued to see just how extensive the full menu was. You shoveled a couple of the more interesting slices onto your plate, added some sour cream to dip the crusts in, and grabbed a token amount of salad.
Both you and the drinks were at the table long before Thor. He had a plate in each hand, with a mountain of pizza on each. It was a wonder he hadn’t lost any slices.
“I wanted to try them all, so I got two slices of each,” he said, by way of explanation, your shocked expression not as subtle as you’d hoped.
“Did you get any sour cream?”
“Oh yes. I put some on every slice before I stacked them up.”
You wondered how he was going to taste the different flavours if they were all slathered in sour cream. It didn’t matter, as long as Thor was happy, that was the important thing. Your plate was empty but you were content to drink and watch the man next to you munching away on his stack of slices. You’d seen competitive eaters, inhaling their food, they could barely be tasting it. Thor wasn’t slow but you could tell he was savouring each slice. A purr when his tongue met a salty slice of pepperoni, a moan as hot mozzarella melted in his mouth, a satisfied smile as he bit into a portion heavy with sour cream. The textures, aromas, the heat of the jalapeños combined with the cooling richness of the dairy. He was focused on what he was eating, enjoying it as more than just sustenance. He was making love to his senses.
Your cheeks were warm, and it wasn’t just a flush from the alcohol. No, you were enjoying watching Thor enjoying his meal. It felt wrong, it felt dirty, voyeuristic, even, to feel aroused by this. You had to wonder, did pizza really taste that good to him, or was it something more?
Chancing a glance at Thor’s lap, you could see his erection pushing up against his underbelly, and being pushed away by the soft swell of his belly. Thor was so engrossed in his food that he didn’t notice your wandering hand until your fingers danced over the prominent bulge.
“Enjoying yourself?” you asked, an eyebrow arched teasingly.
“Ye-yeah,” he responded, stopping with a slice partway to his mouth. You took his other hand and moved it to your mouth, sucking his index finger while maintaining eye contact.
“What about now?” you asked once you’d released him.
“You’re making this a lot harder.”
“What, this?” you replied, applying more pressure to his crotch.
“Yes, no.” It was fun to watch Thor when he got flustered like this, torn between his desire to maintain decorum and his more carnal desires. “You’re making it a lot harder to focus on enjoying my pizza,” he finally managed.
“Ah, I see. Well, it must be quite cold now,” you said, eyeing the last few slices. “I’ll get us some more.”
Thor was glad for the respite. Between you and the food, he was extremely turned on. If it weren’t so public, he’d ask you to do something about the erection he was sporting. For now, though, he settled for undoing his trousers, giving both his tummy and his cock a bit more room.
“They just brought out a new, cheese and tomato, I thought you’d like to enjoy it while it’s hot,” you said, sliding a plate with five slices in front of him, the cheese bubbling slightly.
“That’s half the pizza,” Thor noted with a frown.
“You snooze, you lose. I wanted the best for my big man. I think you’ll enjoy it a lot more when it’s fresh and hot,” you said, touching his tummy under his shirt. “You wanted to see how much pizza you can eat, and I want to help. I’ll get you a few slices at a time so that it doesn’t go cold. You can tell me when to stop. Oh, I brought you some sour cream to dip the crusts in and I ordered some more drinks. It must be thirsty work eating all that pizza.”
The feel of your fingers pressing into his still pliable flesh, as you ate your slices, spurred him on even more.
“Y/N, there’s something I need to explain…” he started.
“Shh. You eat your pizza. I think I know what it is.” Thor looked at you confused but shoveled another slice into his mouth. “You’re enjoying your food, I know you are. It’s just like at the feast. It’s arousing you, I like it.”
“You do? Even though it’s weird, even if I get fatter?”
“Shh, shh. Let me bring you another plate, do you have a preference? I’ll tell you exactly what I think when I get back.”
“Um, may I have some more of the Thai Chicken please?”
“Certainly.”
Thor fiddled with the hem of his top and gulped hard on his drink, terrified about what you might say. It was one thing you enjoying his larger body, but you might have a very different opinion about him enjoying eating and actually enjoying his size. He enjoyed the size difference between you, he felt powerful, owning his space, and if he was honest, he was beginning to really enjoy his softness, how sensitive he now was in places.
One of his original two plates was slid back in front of him, with two slices of Thai chicken and three of ham and mushroom on it.
“There were only two slices left, so I thought I’d bring you something else as well,” you said by way of explanation. Tucking his hair behind his ear, you brought your lips close and began to tell him your answer.
“What you do is up to you, it’s your body. I’m just happy to see you happy, to see you enjoying yourself. However, if you’re happy like this, if you enjoy your food and maybe get a bit bigger, I’m certainly not going to complain. Not just because that would be rude, but because I’d enjoy it. I mean, you know how much I enjoy this tummy of yours.” Your hand returned to its previous position, to emphasise your point. “I definitely wouldn’t be upset if there was more of it for me to admire and play with.”
You moved back a smidge, to see how Thor was taking it. He was trying to remain calm, to eat his pizza, but his heated cheeks and heavier breathing let you know he was enjoying your words.
“Well, you know how much I enjoy it when you press your weight down on me, I think that’d be more fun with a bit more weight behind it. Or how about when you take me from behind, think about all that extra power to pound into me with. Think about how small I’ll look in the mirror when I take you into my mouth. I like the thought of your bigger belly bouncing on top of me, jiggling beneath me, or just being extra cushioning for me to cuddle into. My big, strong, soft, sex god.”
Thor trembled next to you, trying to resist the urge to throw you on the table and fuck you right there. He was on his penultimate slice, so you took one of the empty plates back to the pizza station. You could sense the stares from the people who’d noticed your frequent trips but, fuck ‘em. It was an all-you-can-eat buffet, and that’s exactly what you, or more accurately, Thor, were doing.
“Beef and béarnaise, for my beefy bear,” you said, sliding the plate in front of the blushing god. Nobody had touched that pizza since you’d got him the cheese and tomato, so didn’t feel bad bringing him the remaining eight slices. You left him in comparative peace for this plate, gently rubbing his belly and checking out the restaurant’s menu on your phone.
“How’re you feeling?” you asked as he neared the end of this particular round.
“I’m feeling pretty tired, it’s a bit of a struggle, but it feels so good. How much longer do we have?”
“35 minutes. You’re doing really well,” you encouraged. He was starting to feel full, less doughy under your fingertips. The buttons on his shirt were certainly running into difficulties and you feared their relationship with the soft, denim garment would be short-lived. You were curious as to why Thor had chosen a slim fit shirt in the first place but chose not to comment. It was a pleasure to see all of his soft curves on display outside of the bedroom.
“I think I can manage some more. What were you looking at on your phone?”
“Oh,” it was your turn to blush. “The restaurant has its nutritional info online, I was seeing which pizzas were the most calorific, just in case you wanted a little push.”
In truth, Thor didn’t know exactly what calorific meant, but he could tell this was something that interested you. You’d eagerly accepted his little (ok, big) kink, he could indulge yours.
“Well, why don’t you bring me some. I always like to push myself,” he said, adjusting his position so that his stomach no longer pressed into the edge of the table but rested upon it instead, a generous slither of flesh revealed where his shirt failed to cover him. “Maybe another of those stormy drinks as well, please.”
You almost tripped over yourself in your hurry to bring more food and drink to your full-bodied lover, rich and satisfying, to be enjoyed slowly like a fine Shiraz. Thor laughed a little at your eagerness, it was endearing how you wanted to please him, to take care of him. He hoped you took care of yourself with the same enthusiasm.
Three slices of ham and pepperoni, and five slices of Parma and truffle made their way back with you. Shortly thereafter, Tor dropped off another Flirtini for you and a pitcher of Dark ‘n’ Stormy.
“I wanted to make sure you were well hydrated,” was your answer to Thor’s look of surprise. Admittedly, the cocktail probably wasn’t that hydrating, but Thor had asked for it, so you just made sure that he had enough. You sipped on your drink, watching him battle on, determined to beat the pizza. It was a very different opponent to one he’d find on the battlefield, but Thor had set himself this challenge and he wasn’t going to back down. The staff were watching you nervously, concerned you’d make them wait all night, but you would be gone at eleven, no problem. As Thor began to slow down, you noticed him glancing between your phone and the remainder of the pizza.
“What is it? Are you ok? You can stop if you want, it’s ok,” you worried at him.
“No, no. I can do this. Can you get me what is left? You might need to help me eat them, but I can do it,” he insisted, chest heaving as he panted through the last slice.
Dutifully, you went to gather up what was left, balancing them carefully on two plates. You weren’t entirely sure how you would help him eat them, but he was single-minded in his task, and there was nothing you’d be able to do to stop him. Once Thor had set his mind to something, he was hard to reason with. You either had to get out of the way or hold on tight until he was done.
The pitcher was balanced on top of his taut tummy, shirt stretched dangerously tight around it, as Thor sipped his cocktail through a straw.
“Is that all that is left?”
“Is that all?” you asked incredulously. “I’ve got you three each of the chorizo, BBQ chicken, and cauliflower, two slices of vegetarian and meat feast, and four of the beef onion. That’d be more than enough for most people, are you sure about this?”
“Absolutely. I’m not most people. Asgardians are known for their feasting.” The pitcher was set back down with a thud.
You couldn’t really argue with that.
The first few slices went down well, but then he really began to struggle, gulping down his drink to try to rid his mouth of the cloying cheesiness. Your fingers traced over the swell of his tummy, trying to soothe him.
“That’s good, that helps. Feed me?” he pleaded.
“Ok, you make yourself comfortable and I’ll help.”
You stacked up two slices of the same flavour, bringing them his mouth, and chewed through them, less thoughtfully than before, as he massaged his aching tummy. He was a sweaty, gassy mess, with cheese and sauce stuck in his beard, but he was very pleased with himself when he finally finished the last slice.
“Are you impressed?”
“Very. You managed 69 slices,” you giggled.
“What is funny about that?”
You leaned in and whispered it into his ear. That wasn’t something you’d tried yet, and tonight certainly wasn’t the night for it, but it was definitely something to try another time.
“Finish your drink, I’ll go pay,” you told the full and flustered thunder god.
He was more than happy to finish the pitcher, he needed something to help him cool down. He hadn’t known there was a name for what you’d described, but he definitely liked the sound of it.
***
In the end, it wasn’t the buttons, but the fabric itself that capitulated. After you’d settled up, you’d found Thor sitting awkwardly with this arms across his waist, cheeks flushed fuchsia.
“Are you alright?” you asked, concerned that the pizza had, in fact, beaten Thor.
“My shirt…” he mumbled, moving a hand to show the gaping hole to the side of the placket, allowing a sizable chunk of flesh to be on show.
“Ah...hug me from behind as we leave, I can cover you,” you suggested. It was a slightly awkward exit, Thor pressing into your back. You thanked the staff and eventually made it into the street. “Perhaps we should take a taxi, get you back home quicker?”
Thor mumbled his agreement. It was a fairly quiet evening, so ordering one was pretty straight forward. Ever the gentleman, Thor went to open the door for you.
“Oh, love, could you hold my bag for me, please?” you said with a pointed look at his torso.
Never had he been gladder to hold something in his life. A shield would’ve been preferable, would’ve covered more, but he had to work with what he had.
***
Safely home, Thor was glad to unbutton his shirt, breathing a sigh of relief. He was lucky his jeans were almost painted on otherwise, he might’ve lost them on the journey, stomach spilling out of them.
“Hey, Y/N. Do we have anything sweet?” he called from the kitchen, where he was feeding and fussing the dogs. It was pretty tricky to bend down to their bowls, but he just about managed it.
“Erm yeah. I baked a couple of cakes for tomorrow, why?”
When you got no response, you decided to put some music on, content to let Thor do his own thing. Some Deep Purple while you slumped on the settee, letting Loki slither over you.
It was the second song, Hush, when Thor reappeared, dancing into view with a plate in hand, generous slice of cake on top, and a fork in the other, swaying along to the music. You couldn’t take your eyes off him. The dogs were dancing around his feet, trying to join in, and even the snake seemed to be eyeing him up as he moved remarkably gracefully towards you, swinging his wide hips in time to the music, stomach bouncing along in front of your face. Your mouth didn’t know whether to go dry or to salivate everywhere at the sight before you.
He eased himself down next to you, abused cushion sinking beneath his weight.
“I fancied something sweet after all that pizza,” he said. “This is an excellent cake, my love, you’re very talented.”
“It wasn’t exactly meant for you, but I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” you answered, a little sad that the honey cake you’d worked so hard on was now missing a decent wedge.
“There’s still another cake, it’s fine,” he replied with a smile. “Asgard will still get to sample your handiwork.”
“Can I get you anything to drink with that?”
“Maybe some milk?”
Milk? What about a milkshake, you wondered to yourself. Thor clearly was intent on pushing himself to his absolute limit, so why not help him further?
He gave you a slightly reproachful look when you approached with the biggest glass you could find, filled with your concoction. Thor had wondered why you hadn’t taken so long, having finished his cake, and what you were using the blender for. Now he knew.
You’d blended together whole milk, peanut butter cup ice cream, a generous dash of bourbon, chocolate chips, and chocolate syrup. It was topped with whipped cream peak coated in chocolate sprinkles. A metal straw poked out the top.
“Thank you,” he said, accepting the monstrosity. You hadn’t made him a full-on freakshake, but there was certainly a lot to take in. Thor sipped it cautiously, he didn’t want to get brainfreeze, balancing the glass on top of his over-full belly. You curled up next to him, careful not to jostle or apply too much pressure, kissing the flesh that jutted past the open fabric of his shirt, rubbing gentle circles into his swollen gut.
“You did this on purpose,” he observed around the half-way mark.
“You wanted milk, you wanted something sweet, you wanted to push yourself. I’m just helping you get what you want,” you replied with a grin. “You don’t have to finish it, but it’d be a shame to waste it.”
That was what spurred him on to finish, even though his body was pleading for him to stop. He really enjoyed how full he felt but this was definitely the last thing he was going to have.
“I love how big and round you are,” you commented, fingers delicately tracing over the mound of his stomach. “I can’t wait to get you to bed.”
Thor’s cock, which had never become less than half-hard, immediately sprang back to life. He gulped down the remains of the shake, a horny, panting mess.
“I absolutely cannot eat another thing,” he gasped.
“Oh, very good. I am impressed. Rest here a moment.” You took the glass, the cake plate, and fork to the kitchen, before grabbing a flannel from the bathroom.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, mucky pup,” you said, tenderly wiping away the worst of what was caked around Thor’s mouth and in his facial hair. “How’re you doing?” you asked, cupping a soft cheek in your hand.
“I think I would like to lie down for a bit, I’m quite tired,” he admitted. You couldn’t blame him, just watching was tiring enough. You stood up and offered him a hand. Thor didn’t really need you to pull him up, he was more than strong enough to do it himself, but he appreciated the gesture nonetheless.
“Go get comfy, I’ll do the washing up, let the dogs out, and join you in a bit,” you told him, groping his bum as he shuffled past. “Hey Thor,” you added.
“Yes, my love?”
“If Captain America has America’s ass, do you have Asgard’s ass?”
“I think we could find a smaller one to represent us as a people,” he noted, blushing a little.
“Aww, but I like this one. It’s so shapely and round.”
Thor rolled his eyes with a grin and lumbered off to the bedroom, keen to free himself from his clothes.
***
When you eventually joined Thor in the bedroom, you were surprised to find him still awake, albeit barely. His clothes were in a messy pile to one side, but that barely registered, because sprawled on top of the duvet was a very aroused, naked thunder god. He’d unbraided his hair so that it fanned out behind him on the pillow like a halo. One arm was behind his head, the other rested on his rounded tummy.
“I thought you were tired?” you queried, looking down at the dozy Asgardian. “I was expecting you to be asleep, not putting on a show.”
“Well, I was hoping you would take care of me, give my belly a little rub,” he replied with a grin.
“Only your belly needs taking care of?”
“Ok, maybe some other bits of me might like some attention.”
You rummaged around in the bedside table until you found your dry oil spray. Pumping it liberally, you made sure Thor’s belly was well coated before you settled down with your head on his chest, kissing and licking a nipple, while your hand smoothed over his stomach. Gently rubbing and kneading, you took your time, worshipping your way down to the soft underbelly where he was most sensitive. You avoided touching his cock for as long as possible, but it was hard to ignore, the head nodding against the underside of his rounded abdomen.
“Ah,” he hissed as you brushed against his erection. “I would much prefer it if you used your mouth for this part.”
Giving his tummy one last circular rub, you rolled away from Thor and moved to the very end of the bed, positioning yourself by his feet. You took one foot into your hand and began to knead it, pleased to see that the pumice was working. Thor writhed in your grasp, desperate for you to give his cock attention, but you wanted to string things out. You kissed your way from his ankle to his thigh, ignoring his erection, before massaging his other foot and repeating your journey up that sizable leg.
“My love, please,” he begged.
“Please, what?” you asked, knowing he couldn’t see you smirking.
“Please give me some release.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean.”
“Please...pleasure me, with your mouth.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that?” It was mean to torment Thor, yes, but also worth it to hear the increasing desperation in his voice.
“Please, I’m begging you, please. Please could you just suck my cock,” he whined.
“Oh! You mean like this?”
There was a strangled cry, then, oh fuck, yes, repeated above you as you took him into your mouth. You started slowly, licking and flicking your tongue around his head before gradually moving further down. Propped up on your elbows, you massaged the tops and sides of his packed gut, head gently butting into his underbelly, nose nudging into his soft hair as you moved up and down his length. You knew he wouldn’t last long, had seen how excited he already was, but it was still a surprise how quickly you felt his thighs trembling beneath you. His cum was thick, almost as thick as the milkshake you’d made him, and you swallowed it down. Making sure to clean him with your tongue, Thor gave an involuntary shudder, his cock now far too sensitive.
You pulled away, content to fall asleep next to the exhausted Asgardian, chest panting and stomach heaving from the exertion.
“My love?” Thor managed to huff out.
“Mmm?”
“I have one more request.”
“And want is that?”
“I want to taste you.”
You shuffled up the bed to kiss him, pressing into his sticky, soft, pink, marshmallow lips. His facial hair tickled as you deepened the kiss, but you didn’t mind. Drawing back, you took the time to admire Thor’s face. He looked happy, content. His smile was warm, his eyes sparkled, his brow was less creased, more carefree.
“That wasn’t quite what I meant,” he admitted, hurrying to add, “not that it was bad! It’s just I wanted to, uh, eat you. Eat you out.”
“I thought you couldn’t eat another thing?” you teased.
“For you, I will always make an exception. None of the wonderous tastes to cross my lips this night shall compare to yours.”
You suspected that might not strictly be true, but you didn’t have the heart to tell Thor that.
“I fear I may not be able to move from this position. You shall have to sit on me,” Thor sighed with mock melodrama.
“I think I can agree to that,” you grinned. After all, it wasn’t every day a god invited you to sit on their face. You straddled Thor and held onto the headboard, lowering yourself slowly, making sure to support the majority of your weight with your knees. Thor began to lick you, slow and languid strokes of his tongue like you were the sweetest dessert, made only for him. You slowly began grinding your hips back and forth, trying to get him where you wanted him. After the way you’d teased him, it was only payback that he make you wait, but you were eager for more.
Now that he’d had his release, Thor was far more interested in taking his time. A powerful hand moved up to grab your left hip, keeping you in place, while the other hand reached up to massage your breast, pinching your hardened nipple. Thor could feel himself getting hard again. How could he not, when everything was you? All he could taste, all he could smell, the feel of your thighs against his soft cheeks. The overwhelmed, urgent little noises you made, and when he looked up, your breasts bouncing above him, that blissed-out, happy look on your face. All of it was for him, only for him. He was the only one who got to see you like this, to make you feel like this.
And he fucking loved it.
When you came it was hard, insistent and drenching. It was like turning his face to the heavens during a thunderstorm of his own creation. Thor definitely preferred this position. His height, in fact, his size in general, meant lying down between your thighs wasn’t the easiest position. But this. This was good. His lips on yours, lovingly kissing. And if he was honest, he liked how it made you the one in charge. Every roll and slide of your hips let him know how much you enjoyed what he was doing, there was no second-guessing here. He was your plaything, your means to carnal bliss, and he couldn’t give you enough.
You’d tried to be restrained during your first orgasm, biting into your arm, but the second one had you positively screaming. The dogs were alarmed, barking and scratching at the bedroom door, but it didn’t matter. Thor released his hold on you and you slid off to the side, face-planting into the pillow.
“I did a good job, yes?” he inquired.
“Mmm, yes. Thank you. Sleep now,” you said, as much to him as the pillow.
“I’ll be right back, my love,” he said heaving himself up. “I must reassure the dogs...and perhaps wash my face.”
***
Geri and Freki soon calmed once they realised all was well. Thor washed his face thoroughly and returned to the bedroom, setting a pitcher of water and glass on the bedside table. He’d opened all the windows, yet it was still absurdly hot. Not that you seemed to notice. You’d rolled and wrapped the duvet around you like a burrito, one leg hanging out. Thor climbed in beside you, careful not to disturb you. No need to spoon you, you’d find your way to him soon enough. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever had such a thoroughly satisfying night. Not that he’d be able to enjoy nights like this too often, he didn’t want them to lose their wonder, but it seemed a fitting way to spend it, to indulge himself, on what might be his last night of reprieve before the burdens of a king were his to bear once more.
@morganhoran1671  @innerpaperexpertcloud
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marsqrd-blog · 5 years ago
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          hey guys, i’m oliver. this is mario aka mar. i’m from buffalo, ny so when i learned there was a buffalo, mn, i knew absolutely had to do it ‘em.
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❛  。 ‹  xavier serrano. he/him. male.  ›  “  MARIO MARINO at dean levinson’s office please.  “  it’s that TWENTY-ONE year old JUNIOR from BUFFALO, MN, right ? can’t imagine what they’re in for this time, after all they are LAIDBACK & LOYAL. then again, their PRIVATE & UNFORTHCOMING tendencies could land them in the dean’s office any time of the day. from what i’ve heard they’ve joined THE MEN'S ICE HOCKEY TEAM and majoring in ARCHITECTURE, but their trademark style consists of SNOWFLAKES CLINGING TO HIS HOODIE AND HAIR, A SMILE LIKE A WARNING BEFORE EVERY HIT, GRUESOME SCARS YOU'VE LEARNED TO LOVE.  ˚ ◝ oliver. 21. they/them. est.
THE STORY ( honestly ngl this part reads like a wikipedia page so skip down to MISC for somewhat more relevant things )
-- minnesota : land of 1000 lakes, the state of hockey, of cold, long winters you learn to love or leave to forget ---- that was where he was born, on the coldest day of the year. maybe there’s something to that because he doesn’t get cold very often. ( yes, the cold never bothered him anyway...).
-- he had a pretty simple childhood, the only son of a single mother ( #doubleshifting ), growing up just a short walk from the lake --- wakeboarding in the summer and playing pond hockey in the winter. 
-- they weren’t a wealthy family, though not struggling mightily either. hockey was an expensive sport, though, and he played through his early days and partially through high school with second and third hand gear when possible.
-- early on, he learned being flexible, adaptable, and always having a good attitude was highly important ; his upbringing definitely had a large effect on that. once he turned 16, he picked up a gig as a waiter to earn some cash for himself. besides being able to scrape enough together to buy a nice new stick, it was certainly a character building experience.
-- architecture was something that felt natural to pursue. hockey wasn’t the end all, be all, though he hoped he would remain connected to the sport ( beyond beer league ) after his prime playing days ended. he had a certain knack for sketching and accurately capturing perspectives -- uncharacteristic maybe, but there all the same. he turned to architecture in the hopes of someday being able to design an nhl arena in the future.
-- cornell felt like a huge longshot : prestigious, ivy league, and terrifyingly expensive. it was his reach school ( st. cloud state was his fallback ), but seemed worth the risk. as luck would have it, cornell had it’s eye on someone on a rival team his high school team played in the state tournament at the end of his junior year, but in the particular game they visited, he caught their eye as well. that conversation afterward was a shock to him, the first time he considered possibly being good enough to make hockey more than just a fun pastime. from there, it seemed too good to be true : acceptance into cornell, a nice athletic scholarship, hockey on a d1 team. 
-- that summer, it was one of his days off from the restaurant and he was at a friend’s lakehouse watching the nhl draft with some friends. he was aware it was a very slim possibility ( and well, everyone who plays always hopes just a little right? ). so they had day two of the draft on in the background, while they were eating some freshly grilled burgers and drinking some not completely legally obtained beer and making plans to go out on the lake later. mar was on the couch cracking some joke when he saw his name on the tv : the fourth round, 95th overall to the vancouver canucks. he kinda stared at it not comprehending, and once he did, he stood up and told his friends they were going to the lake.
-- he’s tried not to let himself think to hard about the fact. the fourth round is a very long shot at best --- but it’s not impossible. he’s dutifully gone to development camp every summer since, but his focus has remained to his school and on his work.
-- he knows he has a choice to make at the end of this season : stay another year to finish college or take that next step forward. architecture is what he likes but hockey is what he loves, and maybe he didn’t really realize he might actually get a chance to live out his true nhl dream. he’s been trying not to focus on it. what he does know, is that this year or after he graduates he plans on signing with vancouver if they’ll still have him -- no matter what anyone tells him. they’re the ones that believed enough in him to draft him three years ago, and he feels a sense of loyalty to them for that.
MISC
-- he almost exclusively goes by ‘mar’. no one knows if it’s taken from his first or last name : it’s a left twix/right twix kinda debate. his teammates probably call him marsy or some shit like that.
-- 6′3″, 193 lbs
-- his wardrobe is pretty much all adidas pants, cornell hockey hoodies, t-shirts from various hockey tournaments, running races, and other misc things you get free t-shirts from. he also has a pretty big chunk of canucks related things from the three development camps he’s been to, but he doesn’t wear it too much because it feels a little like a brag to him sometimes.
-- he’s not that superstitious. he does have a routine before every game, but if things get messed up or done in the wrong order, it doesn’t phase him at all.
-- when he was accepted into cornell, he took some of his long-stashed savings to buy brand new bauer skates. it was the first time he’d ever had brand-new skates. they fittingly ended up having red accents. all his pads are still secondhand, though.
-- he has a small sketchbook. he’s constantly sketching buildings, usually in pen. when it’s nice out, you can find him on the quad drawing some campus building or another. he’s likely redesigned lynah rink like a hundred times already.
-- he prefers to be in the shadows rather than the limelight, and his style of play dictates that. he’s not a goal-scorer, not an offensive defenseman, and isn’t all the flashy. very much has a  “if no one notices me, then i’m doing my job”-type mentality, because he assumes if someone does it’s probably because he didn’t do enough to prevent a goal.
-- his reaction to being drafted is very On Brand : constantly brushing off things that are pretty momentous. it comes from a bit of a place of feeling like he’s not really worthy of praise. not that he doesn’t like praise, it’s just... it’s complicated ?.
-- very much a steadying force. knows when to laugh, when to be serious, how to just be a rock on the blue line and in the locker room. he tries not to let too much phase him or get to him either. sometimes people joke he would’ve made a good goalie because of it. ( he laughs because while he loves his goalies, they’re really a complete different breed ).
PERSONALITY
+ laidback, loyal - private, unforthcoming
mar is the kind of guy you want to be friends with. he laughs easily and has a certain friendliness about him. that being said, he has a way to make you feel like you know him but you really don’t. he’s a deeply private person and doesn’t freely disclose much of his close personal life : everything from his emotions, to the fact his wrist is bothering him, to any doubts he has. the frivolous things are given freely : weekend plans, parties, opinions. there’s no true reason for his private state, just that he feels it’s important to keep some things very close to your chest.
on the ice he’s far more imposing, unafraid to throw big hits or get in a scrum if he needs to. he’ll protect his goalie as well as his fellow teammates if the occasion arises.
THE AESTHETICS
SNOWFLAKES CLINGING TO HIS HOODIE AND HAIR...      not the type to wear a winter jacket even if the weather maybe calls for it. he loves when it snows and enjoys walking to class when it does so.
A SMILE LIKE A WARNING BEFORE EVERY HIT...      “ MARINO smiles before every hit in this thing so the other guy knows what’s coming. ” it’s no secret that mar is a physical presence on the ice ; not dirty, just physical. and he enjoys it.
( tw. kinda graphic injury?? ) GRUESOME SCARS YOU'VE LEARNED TO LOVE...           well... mar almost died when he was sixteen, in the middle of playing a tournament. someone crashed the net, he went down trying to defend it, and a skate slashed his neck. it’s a miracle it was a shallow cut --- a few millimeters more and his main artery would’ve been slashed. his souvenir from the incident is a three inch scar on his neck that starts near his adam’s apple and extends at a diagonal toward his right ear. it’s healed to look a bit like a rash or hickey.
ACCOLADES
RUNNER UP, ECAC DEFENSIVE DEFENSEMAN OF THE YEAR ( 2018-19 ) : given to the best defensive defenseman in the conference as voted by the coaches of each ECAC team.
NCAA (ECAC) ALL-ROOKIE TEAM ( 2017-18 )
95th OVERALL, 2017 NHL DRAFT ( vancouver canucks )
SCOUTING REPORT
MARINO provides a strong, physical and highly reliable defensive presence on the blue line. he is unafraid to block shots and sacrifice his body to do so. his skating ability, while not elite, is more than proficient and he can get significant speed when necessary. his is more likely to stand up to hits rather than evade them. MARINO exhibits exceptional passing ability; however, he could do well to improve his overall offensive capabilities and on-ice agility. regardless, his value on the penalty kill and ability to diffuse high danger situations from the opposing team must not be overlooked.
WANTED CONNECTIONS
-- i can see him being friends with whoever the student photographer is that captures the team. creative processes fascinate him.
-- close friend on the team: preferably another dman or goalie. why is this here. i should just send it into the main for the wc list huh.
i suck at coming up with these honestly, so i’m just going to go read intros and hopefully be inspired along the way.
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blackhakumen · 6 years ago
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Fanfic #19: The Time When Oscar (Somehow) Got Invited to Smash Bros. Bonus Chapter 2: The Random Arrival
After a long day in the city of Atlas, Oscar decides to go back to the apartment, where his friends are waiting.
Upon his stroll, the farm boy suddenly smelled something burning a few miles from where he's walking. So he began to rush to where the fire is supposed to be located immediately.
Oscar couldn't believe what he saw once he got to where the smoke is coming from. He saw a giant, fiery symbol (the same symbol he saw on the back of the letter he received the other day), while also seeing a bunch of unfamiliar faces standing right in front of it.
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Before the farm boy could even question all that is happening, an Italian plumber, who was one of the people who was standing in front of the burning symbol, begins to greet the young Farmer.
??? (Happily): Hello, Oscar Pine! I bet you didn't expect all of this, huh?
Oscar (Surprised about what is happening) N-not really, no....Okay, just who are you guys?
???: (Laughs embarrassedly) Where are our manners? Its-a me, Mario!
Oscar: Wait...Mario? As in, THE Mario?!
Mario: That's correct!
Oscar: (....No way....is this really happening right now?)
Mario: If you don't mind, I would like to introduce to you my friends over there.
Oscar: (Still unsure about what's even happening now) .....Suuure...
Mario begins to introduce Oscar to the rest of his friends, who was also standing in front of the symbol. From his brother, Luigi, to the tomboyish princess of Sarasaland (and Luigi's girlfriend), Daisy, to even Mario's arch enemy, King Bowser, a giant monster like turtle with spikes for his shell, they all seemed to greeted the farm boy with kindness. But even still, Oscar is still very confused on what's going on right now.
Oscar: It's really nice to meet you guys and all, but...what exactly you all are doing here?
Luigi: Sorry to barge in like this, but we're actually here to take you to the tournament with us.
Oscar: The tournament?
Daisy: Well...yeah. We sent you a letter telling you about it, remember?
Oscar: (Instantly remembered the letter that was sent to him the other day) Oh yeah. That letter....look, guys, I'm really honored that you would invite me to your tournament and all, but.... I don't think I can go.
Mario: (A Little Surprised of Oscar's answer) You couldn't attend the tournament? How come?
Oscar: I-It's not like I don't wanted to go or anything. It's just everything is happening in Atlas lately and-
Before he could finish his sentence, Oscar and the others immediately noticed someone is screaming the farm boy's name.
Bowser: Who the hell is screaming like that?
Luigi: I think someone is calling for you, Oscar.
Oscar turns around and see red like corkscrew from the distance, coming towards the group, while screaming the farm boy's name.
???: (Charging closer) OSCARRRRRRR!!!!!!
Oscar: (Instantly figured out who it was) R-Ruby-
Before he could say anything else, the red corkscrew begin to tackle Oscar to the ground. Once that happened, Mario and the gang sprint over and saw a girl in red, who was that red like corkscrew a seconds ago, is sitting on top of the farm boy. That girl was none other than the Huntress herself, Ruby Rose.
Oscar:(Surprised) R-Ruby, what the heck are you doing here?! Also where did you even come from?
Ruby: (Worried) We were looking everywhere for you! You haven't picked up your phone so we made up a search party to find you. We were so worried too...(Looks at the burning symbol and Mario and crew before frowning sadly) Oscar, what's going on? Why is Mario and the others are here?
Mario: Umm.... Hello there, uhh Ms. Ruby, isn't it?
Ruby: Hi Mario! (Turns back to Oscar) I'm still waiting for an answer, Oscar.
Oscar: Ruby, I can explain but.... could you please get off of me now?
Ruby: (Blushes in embarrassment) Oh umm right. Sorry...
Once Ruby got up from the farm boy and pulling him up on his feet, Oscar begins to explain everything that happened so far.
Ruby: (Frowns Sadly) Oscar, we talked about this. You can't be in Super Smash Bros!
Oscar: I-I know we did! That's why I declined their offer.
Ruby: (Surprised) You did?
Oscar: Of course I did, Ruby. You guys are my best friends and I would never leave you all like this. Not while there's so much is going on right now.
Ruby: (Touched by his words) Oscar....
WBY: Oscar!!!!
Weiss, Blake, and Yang runs towards the duo while giving Oscar a tight hug.
Yang: Thank, Oum, that you're okay, bud!
Blake: Where have you been, Oscar?! We were so worried- wait.....(noticed Mario and the gang) Guys....who are these people?
Yang: Ah man! They're the Mario Bros! Princess Daisy! And even King Bowser! But....why are they here?
Weiss: (Furious) AND WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS FLAMING SYMBOL IN THE MIDDLE OF THE CITY?!!!!?!
Mario: Uhhh....
Oscar: ('Sigh') It's a long story, but I'll try to explain everything.
30 minutes of explanation later....
Blake: Ok, so somehow these guys came to our universe just to invite you to the Super Smash Bros Tournament, you guys mentioned, in person?
Oscar: Pretty much, yeah.
Yang: (Frowns) Oscar. You didn't take up on their offer, did you?
Oscar: No, Yang. I already declined their offer. You know I wouldn't leave you guys here.
Yang begins to look at Mario and the gang to see if Oscar's telling the truth.
Luigi: (Shrugs) It's true. I think he was telling us that the reason was because there was something going on here that's important before his friend tackled him...
(Ruby nervously laughs in embarrassment.)
Blake: Well... he's half right. Long story short, we have to save our world from a woman named Salem and her forces. Trust me, it gets even more complicated from here...
Mario: Hmm that does seems to be pretty serious...
Daisy: Yeah....(Comes up with an idea) Hey, we could all pitch in and help you guys out if you-
Ruby: That's really nice of you guys, but I don't think that'll be necessary. Salem is our problem now, and we don't want you guys getting involved with something like this. Plus, Oscar is a part of our team. We need him here to help too.
Mario: Well...if you're really sure....also, we want to apologise for coming by here unannounced like that. We all thought we could invite your friend to the tournament with us in person....we never realized how serious your situation here was and how much you need him to help out.....
Ruby: No no i-i-it's okay, Mr. Mario. We face stuff like this all the time. So it shouldn't be too much of a problem (Or...at least I really hope it's not). And as with inviting Oscar.... that's not really the only reason why he don't want him to enter...
Luigi/Daisy: It isn't?
Ruby: Yeah... another reason is because we don't think Oscar's ready for this kind of thing yet. I know that he can take care of himself and all, but he still needs more training in order to be a Huntsman. And also, (Gives Oscar a hug) we would be completely worried sick if anything were to happen to him out there. He's already been through a lot lately and the last thing that any of us wanted is to see him getting hurt. So we're sorry....but we cannot let Oscar enter that tournament.
Oscar: Ruby's right about this one. I know I could fight my own battles and all...but in all honesty, I don't think I would stood a chance in that tournament. Plus, everyone needs me here. I hope you all could understand.
Mario: Why, of course we do. We wouldn't want to force anyone to join the tournament if they didn't want to. We'd only asked because of our fans' votes.
Oscar: (Surprised) Wait... people were voting for me to join?
Mario: Well... you were a fan favorite in our universe.... kind of.
Ruby: (Smirks) D'awww look who has fans?~
(Oscar Groans in embarrassment)
Mario: Anyways, if you really couldn't attend our tournament this year, then we completely understand. You have some really good friends here, Oscar. And it wouldn't feel right to take you away from them like this....
Oscar: Thanks for understanding, Mario sir. And yeah.... (Smiles Softly) I'm really glad that these guys are my friends.
Ruby: (Touched by Oscar's words) Oh, Oscar. We're glad that you're our friend too!~
Blake: (Smiles Softly) Yeah. We never really said this as much, but we're all so glad that we met someone like you, Oscar.
Yang: (Pulls Oscar in a one arm hug while smiling brightly) Yeah, buddy. Thank you so much for staying by our side.
Weiss: (Smiles at the others) Well, while I'm glad that's all worked out, (immediately gets upset) that still doesn't explain who's responsible for this monstrosity! (Points at the burning symbol)
Mario: Oh yeah....that...well ummm you see we-
Bowser: (Points at Mario) It was all the plumber's idea.
Mario: Bowser!
Bowser: (Rolls is eyes) Oh don't act like all surprise on me! You do this every time we introduce new people to join Smash Bros.! Nearly give them nightmares with that crap.
Mario: I was only trying to leave a great impression! I wanted them see how special this tournament was. Isn't having a first impression important?
Luigi: I guess...but don't you think the whole flaming symbol thing is a little too much?
Daisy: Yeah... couldn't we just...I dunno...do some kind of musical number or something?
Mario: I doubt anyone would be interested in doing something like that.
Weiss: (Groans in irritation) Nevermind. I'll put it out myself....
Weiss set one of her dust onto her Rapier before using it (gracefully) to put down the burning symbol. Much to everyone's, except for RBY and Oscar, surprised.
Weiss: The next time you people visit here, maybe not create something that could cause a huge fire hazzard around our city.
Mario: (Laughs Nervously) Noted....sorry about that.
Yang: You know, you guys are welcome to join us on a tour around the place if you like.
Mario: We would love to...but I think it's time for us to get back to the Smash Universe about now.
Ruby: You're leaving already?
Luigi: Afraid so, Ms. Ruby. Master Hand wouldn't be too happy if we came back late.
Weiss: (Confused) Master Hand? What in the world....
Daisy: It's basically a talking hand who host the whole tournament.... it's best not to think too much about it.
Ruby: Thank you guys so much for dropping by here! And just know that once everything starts to calm down, you're all welcome to come back to visit.
Mario: Thank you and you are all welcome to come by and visit us whenever you like. (Gives Oscar a handshake) And it was nice to finally meet you in person, Oscar.
Oscar: Thank you, sir. It was nice to meet you guys too. Good luck on the tournament.
Ruby: W-w-wait!! Before you guys go, you think we could...sign us an autograph?
Mario: Why of course we can! Where do you want me to sign?
Ruby: (Smiles Brightly while bringing out her Crescent Rose in sniper mode) On my Crescent Rose please?
Yang: Hey, Mr. Luigi. You think give me an autograph too?
Luigi: Oh umm sure. Where you want me to sign it?
Yang: (Grins while showing him her metal arm) On my arm, please?
Luigi: (Surprised) Oh umm of course. Right away.
After a minute of autograph signing, Daisy begins to open up a portal in order to go to their universe.
Daisy: Mario! Weegie! Come on! We gotta go!
Bowser: I swear, if any of us gets yelled at, I am blaming you idiots for this!
Daisy: Oh quit whining and go in already.
Bowser: (Grumbles inside of his breath while walking into the portal)
Mario: (Bid his farewell while walking towards the portal with his brother) So long, everyone! And good luck on your quest on stopping Salem!
Ruby: (Waving Goodbye) Bye, Mario! Thanks for the visit!!
Yang: (Waving Goodbye) Keep being awesome, you guys!!
Oscar: (Waving Goodbye) It was nice meeting you guys!
As the portal closes in, Ruby and the gang decided to walk back to their apartment and call it a night. While the Mario Bros, Princess of Sarasaland, and the Koopa King's visit was the most random moment they've ever encountered so far, it was still great to meet all of them in person. But now all of that out of the way, our five heroes could get back to what's more important. That is to find a way to defeat Salem and save their world from her wrath.
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agirlinjapan · 7 years ago
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Red Data Girl: My Longest Day of School (Week 10)
Red Data Girl: My Longest Day of School By Noriko Ogiwara A Translation
Miss the last piece? Read it here!
Check out the RDG Translation twitter!
It’s been a good week and weekend! However, with this said, it’s been a long one and I am exhausted. I went home on Friday to spend some time with my family which means I got to do some fun things but I also lost a lot of planning/grading time in the process. Guess who’s pulling a 14+ hour workday tomorrow to make up for it? x.x  With that said, there are a bunch of special events at school this upcoming week so the next few days should be a lot of fun.
Hopefully I’ll find some time to translate RDG too!
This week, we’re moving into the second chapter of RDG5. That means we’re about a quarter of the way through the book!
Red Data Girl: My Longest Day of School By Noriko Ogiwara Chapter 2: Manipulation Part 1 (1 of 2)
Due to Mayura and others’ skilled guidance, the middle school Warring States era parade began punctually and without a hitch.
Izumiko and Miyuki were wrapped up with other responsibilities and could not come to help. However, they were still able to see one warrior performance at the parade as well as witness the exuberant audience that had come to see the show.
As staff in charge of supervising the first day of the festival, they could say that everything was going pretty well.
At the same time that the parade was happening, the final counts for the popularity contest and decisions for the next day’s teams began in the lecture hall lounge. The students working on them didn’t even have time to take a breath, there was so much work to be done.
“Best Overall goes to the third years’ haunted house… There’s nothing surprising about that result. There wasn’t really another class who worked as hard as they did.”
Hayakawa, sitting at a table in the lounge, was writing a speech to be broadcasted later. He was wearing a kataginu, a sleeveless ceremonial robe, over the rest of his costume and grumbling often over the task.
“Another undeniable fact is that there’s seriously no chance of me having fun today.”
“Hayakawa.”
The president of the student government, her kuroko veil lifted up and out of the way, walked over to him.
There was a cold light in her grey eyes as she asked, “I want you to tell me straight. What was the point of betting on the result predictions? May I ask what amazing prize the winning students get?”
“Oh, you knew about that?”
“Don’t act like I’m stupid. Did you use the student government to sponsor this? Do you have no common sense?”
Hayakawa seemed somewhat surprised, perhaps due to the sharper than expected tone Jean Honoka Kisaragi had used.
“I never said a single word about the student government sponsoring it or anything like that. It only went as far as me and my friends.”
“If you’re scheming up anything, we’ll find out who your sponsors are.”
“Don’t say that. I’ve been dressed in this get up, manning the broadcasting room all day. Can’t I just have one little bit of fun?” Hayakawa asked.
He continued with a long, drawn out excuse but Izumiko did not hear what he was saying. She was too busy tallying the final results of the popularity contest.
The votes for the food stand category were a particularly close battle. There wasn’t a huge difference in votes and the rankings changed constantly. Still, when the final results were tallied, first place went to 1-A as everyone had guessed it would. Second place went to 1-C, and third place went to 2-B.
The reason why two first year classes had been able to outrank the second years was due to their ingenuity. They would probably be praised later for it. All the same, Izumiko saw how disappointed her 1-C classmates looked, having been defeated by 1-A. It was a hard end to the day.
I’m glad the Winds of Change Cotton Candy was so popular though…
During her patrol, she had seen people holding the pink cotton candy as they walked everywhere she had gone. What secret plan had 1-A come up with that was more popular than that? Izumiko thought about this, finding it all very strange.
The third years had put all their effort into the haunted house. Perhaps because of this, the second years had taken first place in the theater division. The teams for the next day’s events were put together by class based on the popularity contest’s results so all of this was important.
Unlike the year before when sports day had been a separate event, to everyone’s surprise this year, it had been incorporated into the school festival’s second day as an arranged battle game for the whole school to participate in. The students would move through various sports related challenges while dressed in battle outfits in order to play up the Warring States era atmosphere. Seeing as the students dressed in samurai armor would not be able to run, intellectual challenges had also been prepared.
And so, true to the game’s name, “The Hachioji Castle Siege,” the daylong affair would imitate the historical events of the local Hachioji Castle’s attack.
The class who won first place in the popularity contest would make up the team depicting the forward attacking army led by Shogun Toyotomi and Maeda Toshiie. The team with the next highest points would represent the army attacking the side of the castle led by Uesugi Kagekatsu. Finally, the rest of the classes would be broken up between the two final forces; the rear attacking army led by the father and son duo, Masayuki and Yukimura Sanada (historically at this point, this force had already broken through the castle’s defenses), and the castle’s own defending army. In all, the school would be divided into four teams.
Factually, the armies which had attacked the castle had been ten times greater than forces defending it. Because of this imbalance, the students had been instructed to turn to the other side if they “died” in battle. This wasn’t a simple game between two teams. It was set up within a tournament system. First, the frontal and side armies would fight each other for the high ground. In a different area, the rear army and the castle defenses would have a battle of wits. Slowly, the teams would merge together until everything was decided in a final battle.
Each team would select five commanders. These commanders would play a different game than the foot soldiers on the game field. Instead of a sports game, they would play a board game in a tent. The percentage of wins would go into deciding who lost the battle and affect who would be able to participate in the final showdown.  
The members of the high school student government had given up their summer to plan this combination battle game because the members of the festival committee, which was made up of class officials, was too busy putting together the festival’s first day to take care of it. And so, the student government, who were in charge of patrolling the first day’s festivities, also ended up managing the second day as well.
Okouchi, who was the planning chief for the game, stood in front of everyone in the lounge and announced the results of the team distribution to the game’s management staff.
“Seeing as the third year volunteer participants said they wanted to join the game all of a sudden, one part of our plan has been changed. First, we had planned to evenly split each grade between the four teams but because there are so many unexpected third year participants, the entire third year class has agreed to play as the castle defense. In light of this, the entire middle school third year class will also be moved to castle defense. Having a setup where the first and second years go up against the third years will be fun.”
A number of student government members raised their voices.
“The third years might have won with their haunted house but I wonder if they know they’ll be on the losing side this time. Did you make that decision seeing as there were so many bitter spirits of the dead in their attraction?”
“Will the balance of people on each team be alright?”
“Won’t that be too much to the castle defense’s advantage in the field game?”
Okouchi calmly sorted through and dealt with the opinions. Around the time everyone had accepted the plan and there were no more questions, Mayura and Manatsu arrived in the lounge. The middle school’s Warring States era parade was over.
“The parade ended at the middle school’s sports grounds. There weren’t any problems,” they told the presidents of both the student government and the festival committee.
Honoka and Hayakawa, who had up until now not agreed on anything, gave identical smiles. They then thanked the Souda siblings for their hard work in warm voices.
“Alright. I’m off to make the results announcement,” Hayakawa said brightly as he stood up and left the lounge. The first year boys who worked with him followed behind.
Izumiko went straight up to Mayura.
“How were the girls from the beauty pageant? They didn’t argue with you anymore, did they?”
“They were fine. They calmed down and walked in the parade. I doubt it was because of my exorcism powers but either way it seems like they felt better about the situation,” Mayura said happily. “Everyone has their own way of looking at things like this so as long as there are results, anything’s okay, right?”
Izumiko gave her a relieved smile. “I knew everything would be alright if you were taking care of it.”
“How about things on your end? Was there a solution to the problem with the haunted house?”
Izumiko bobbed her head automatically but her voice carried the same brightness as Mayura’s had.
“Ah, everything’s fine there too. It wasn’t anything to worry about. There’s something I want to talk to you about in more detail later though.”
“So in other words, there was something in the haunted house after all, huh?” Mayura’s expression darkened.
“There wasn’t anyone there who was trying to cause trouble,” Izumiko added hurriedly. It’s just that I… It seems like something strange happened with me…”
“Tell me. It’s important.”
“I can’t tell you here. I think it’ll take some time for me to explain…” Izumiko stammered.
She would have to choose her words carefully when talking about an incident that had made her cry… Not to mention, one that had made her cling to someone while doing that crying.
“Izumiko, why is your face so red?”
“There’s no reason for it to be red.”
After gazing at Izumiko for a moment, Mayura lowered her voice to a whisper and said, “There was an incident at the middle school parade that I can’t explain well, too. The girls from the beauty pageant were fine the whole time but the horses the warriors were riding got spooked all of a sudden. They got really jumpy. The people riding them didn’t seem to be able to control them. Seeing as Manatsu was there, he was able to jump in and calm the horses though so the parade ended without any trouble.”
Izumiko stared at her.
“Wow… Manatsu’s amazing.”
“Do you think so, Izumiko?” Mayura gave a wry laugh. “We were on guard. I think the horses sensed something in front of the library. But I don’t think anyone else noticed that the horses were acting strangely.”
Mention of the library made Izumiko think about the steps the diviners had taken to make the barrier and she recalled finding where the cursed object had been buried. However, Miyuki had been the one to visit the actual spot. Izumiko had been frightened by the ominous feel of the place and hadn’t actually been able to see it with her own eyes.
I might not have seen it then but I definitely knew there was something dangerous there. Then again though, today when I went into the haunted house, I didn’t sense anything. Maybe that’s because I sympathized with them…
She let out a reflexive sigh at the unreliableness of her senses. This world didn’t always have definite answers like the ones you could learn in a textbook and write down on a test.
“Now, I’ll tell you a little about what happened, too… I saw what I think were real ghosts in the haunted house. I think they were the ghosts from the Hachiouji Castle ruins,” Izumiko murmured.
Mayura sucked in her breath. “Really? You saw ghosts, Izumiko?”
“Yeah. I think they were the women from the base of the waterfall.”
“But the gym isn’t above the east to west barrier line that the library marks. I guess that just shows how powerful it is.”
“I don’t know if we can say it’s powerful or not. There wasn’t anyone around who was trying to make trouble when I saw the ghosts. And there was another reason behind the rush of people going to the nurse’s office…”
She had reported on the incident at the 2 o’clock student government meeting and now the group had a full understanding of what was going on. However, the Souda siblings, who had been observing the problems at the parade, hadn’t been at the meeting. After Izumiko re-explained the circumstances, Mayura snorted.
“That’s hilarious. If Mr. Sagara was the nurse, I’d probably want to go to the nurse’s office too. I wonder if he’s planning to work there tomorrow again.”
“Who knows… I guess we’ll see.”
It was an uncomfortable idea for Izumiko. Whether he worked there again or not though, Izumiko felt like this would be the time to tell Mayura that Miyuki and Yukimasa were father and son. Still, Miyuki had to be the one to tell Mayura that first.
“It’s good for us to know that the third year’s haunted house is a lame attraction,” Mayura said, her tone straight forward. “In other words, that means the popularity award went to the attraction that made the guests laugh the most. If that’s the case, then we probably don’t have to get so worked up about it. No one could possibly think the haunted house was put together using diviner magic.”
Izumiko looked towards Mayura as a thought suddenly popped into her mind.
“Mayura, you were saying the third years joined the all school event out of nowhere, right?”
“Yeah. Naturally, that makes me wonder if something’s going on.” Mayura gazed out at something far away. “It must be related to whoever cast the magic by the library. I have a feeling that the magic was too high level for a high schooler to have cast. I think there’s an adult who’s skilled in some secret art mixed up in all of this.”
“You really think it’s high level magic? You’re not just joking?”
“That’s right. The joke will be when we crush it.”
Izumiko thought over Mayura’s words.
Crush it, huh?...
That made her think of how Miyuki had laughed so hard at her hair. But seeing as her emotions were so mixed up at the moment, the thought didn’t go any further than that.
When Izumiko didn’t say anything, Mayura prompted her for a response.
“Hey, Izumiko. Is there something about Sagara you want to talk about?”
“Huh? I didn’t say anything like that.”
“But it’s been on your face for a while.”
Izumiko recoiled and put her hands on her cheeks to check.
“No! How?”
“Hey, just tell me what’s going on. I’m worried about you.”
“…Later, okay?”
“No. I’m getting more and more worried about you.”  
Right in the middle of Mayura’s inquisition on Izumiko, one of the first year boys in the student government appeared at their side. “I’m sorry to bother you,” he said in a particularly courteous voice. “Mayura, could you come to the broadcasting room for a moment? Hayakawa’s asking for you.”
Mayura’s hand, still on Izumiko’s arm, paused. The boy’s words made her blink.
“Huh? Me? What does Hayakawa want me for?”
“I think he wants to ask you something about the middle school parade. He said he wants to put it in his speech.”
“What a pain,” Mayura retorted.
But then she seemed to rethink and realize she could leave things as they were. She grabbed Izumiko’s hand tightly and said, “I’m going but come with me. I’m not going to let you get away until you tell me what’s going on.”
Izumiko protested but it was entirely futile. Left with no choice, she and Mayura went to the classroom building.
Keep reading!
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avatar-wtf · 7 years ago
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The Rock I Lean On (part 1)— Yukimura Seiichi,Prince of Tennis
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FULL CREDITS TO THE ORIGINAL OWNER OF THIS IMAGE
I love Yukimura so much and recently I’ve gotten into watching REAL tennis myself so it’s not really getting my mind off Prince of Tennis really. So I was like ‘why not write that fanfic/one shot/imagine you’ve always wanted but never had the courage to write?’
It’s mostly just fluff, bit of emotionally stuff and sweet cutesy moments. This is set in the POT timeline where Yukimura just found out he was sick, leading up to the Nationals. And if I feel like it, I might go on until the U-17 camp. PS: go easy on me, this is my first tenipuri fanfic. I just wrote this for fun.
There’s going to be a part two. It’s in the works now :)
••••••••••
It was a not a well kept secret if everyone in the whole school wondered why Yukimura Seiichi is missing. The following day after he collapsed at the train station with his teammates, news started to spread in the whole school of the Captain’s whereabouts.
Some Rikkai bystanders even swore they saw exactly what happen. Of course, there were just rumours that started to spread but you refused to believe them until you have spoken to Sanada, or Seiichi himself, or any of the boys who were with him at the station that day. You were hoping it was nothing serious or you were hoping it was just fatigue that caused him to collapse. You worried for days until he finally told you and it was far worse than you’ve expected. You worried even more when you accidentally heard him tell his teammates about the survival rate of the surgery but that didn’t stop you at all from being there for him. In fact, that kept you closer to his side more than ever.
You love him too much that you have not spent a single day without worrying about him. Being at school didn’t help very much. You found it so strange, passing by the tennis courts and watching his teammates play without him observing his whole team from the sidelines.
Sanada saw you all the way from the benches. He left the court while everyone is busy doing practice and walked up to you, his facial expression stern and stoic. “I didn’t expect to see you here at all, y/n.” He says as he crossed his arms in front of you. “I just wanted to wish you and everyone good luck.” You say in the most encouraging way you can. It’s not only been tough on you, but for their entire team as well. Ever since you and Yukimura started spending so much time together, you started hanging out with the team as well so you understood and knew how tough it was for them, going into a big tournament without their captain.
“Are you seeing him today?” Sanada asks you. You nod hesitantly, remembering how Yukimura tried to shoo you away yesterday when you visited him. You saw him being pushed on a wheelchair, looking so fragile. “He doesn’t want you or any of us to see him like that. It’s tough for him too, he wants to be here just as much as we do.”
“I know. Everyone worked so hard for this.” As you said this, you glanced over Sanada’s shoulder just enough to catch a glimpse of the entire team playing against each other, even seeing Akaya stomping and complaining in front of Yanagi. What would Seiichi have done if he was here?
“It’s not going to be the same, y/n,” Sanada tells you honestly. “He wants us to win.” This time, you didn’t dare hesitate.
You gave Sanada your vote of confidence, “I’m sure you will.”
That afternoon, you went inside his hospital room and you see him sitting up on his bed with his feet dangling from the edge. Hes got his back turned towards you as he looked out the window. You tried to close the door as quietly as you can but, Seiichi being himself, he didn’t miss the click as the door swings shut.
Tomorrow is his surgery. The moment your eyes met, you immediately saw the fear in his eyes. He tried to smile but you saw past it because you quickly dropped everything on the table, and rushed to his side. You say beside him on his hospital bed, not saying a word as you fear it might not help as much. You wait for him to say something first because he’s usually the first one to speak between the two of you.
He was even the first one to approach you in your PE class in your first year because he saw how you suffered when you were paired with Marui Bunta to do some tennis drills. You had zero experience in tennis, or in any sport, and so close to failing your PE class because of it. That’s when he stepped in to swap with Marui. You knew how Seiichi was on court; he was tiny but he was merciless. You saw bits and pieces of him playing in their practices as a first year and he crushed the other seniors one by one. So, yes, you prepared yourself for the worst but were seriously surprised because, first off, he didn’t walk to the other side of the net; he went to stand beside you and patiently taught you the basics. He would try to hide his laughter when you couldn’t serve pass the net, making you go red with embarrassment.
To be honest, that’s where it all began for the both of you. Since that PE class, Seiichi found every excuse to get close to you in your first year. He would sit across you in the library and watch you study or would even volunteer to be your partner in every PE class. That’s just how you two got to know each other.
Now, two years later, you’re closer than ever. A lot has changed between you in the best way possible. You went from this timid girl who couldn’t even utter a word to him two years ago to someone who can’t stop laughing and smiling around him.
It happens all the time when you’re in the same room together. It’s just laughter and jokes…. But not in this situation. You’re only hoping this bump in Seiichi’s way doesn’t completely destroy his spirit. “I overheard the doctors this morning,” he starts. “And they said, even after the surgery, if I survive—“ You cringed at his words and you quickly correct him. “When you survive, Seiichi. It’s not an if.” You sounded almost pissed when you said that. “They said I might never play ever again.” Your heart dropped as he said that. More so when you heard his voice crack and his eyes began swelling with tears.
You were about to say something but got abruptly cut off when the door bursts open and Akaya bounces in, fresh from practice and still wearing his Jersey. Behind him, Sanada follows and the rest of the team wearing their uniforms. You only stayed for a bit because you didn’t want to intrude their team conversations so you excused yourself. That’s also the same time when Seiichi asked everyone to step out for a minute; everyone but Sanada. The door shut behind all of you, Akaya starts whining. “y/n-senpai, what’s so important that Buchou won’t even tell you?” He asks but you were completely dazed off because you already knew what he was going to tell his best friend, and it was anything but good news. The next day at school, every student in Rikkaidai surrounded the bus that’s going to take the tennis team to the venue of the Regionals. Everyone’s wishing them good luck as we all send them off. You were standing at the very front with a friend of yours but you were dazed off somewhere else. Just before Sanada got on the bus, you two made eye contact. He gave you an assuring nod before hppping on with the rest of the team. Everyone cheered as they drove off, everyone excited for them to comeback with a win but you, you had something else on your mind.
Today is Seiichi’s surgery. You went to see him this morning just before you went to school. He didn’t have to say anything for you to know he was terrified. He knows what he’s getting himself in to, he knows what could and couldn’t happen, same as you do. It terrified you just as much as it terrified him but you didn’t want to show him that. If someone needed to be strong right now, it’s you… for him. You couldn’t count the number of times you dozed off in class. It was very unlike you to not pay attention but you can’t help it. You were always glancing at the clock, wondering how the team’s doing and if they’ve already brought Seiichi in the operating room. It was a tough day to be in school; you can’t stop flinching at every little sound because you’re so worried for both Seiichi and the team. Your worries heightened when you found out from Yanagi that they have tied with Seigaku and Sanada was getting ready to play. When you figured out that the rest of the team was going to see Seiichi before his surgery, you didn’t even think twice before sprinting out of the campus the moment the lunch bell rang. You knew you were going to get in trouble but that was the least on your mind at the moment. When you reached the hospital, you were nearly out of breath. You’ve just reached Seiichi’s floor and you see a hospital bed being wheeled in the hallway, a nurse and a doctor conversing a few steps away, and a group of boys in yellow jerseys surrounding the bed. Akaya looks up just in time as you approached them. “Buchou, it’s y/n-senpai.” You quickly made your way over, standing at the side of the bed. You fought back the moment you saw the fear in his eyes. The past days, you saw a totally different side to him. It was the first time you’ve seen Seiichi so frail and weak. You’re just so used to seeing him so quick on his feet and active that, now, seeing him lying on a hospital bed made you realise how sick he really is. “Y/n, why aren’t you in school?” You wanted to roll your eyes, but you didn’t. Is he being serious? “That’s the last thing on my mind right now, Seiichi.” Your voice was shaking as you talked, and he sensed that. There was clear tension in the air between the both of you. The other boys took a few steps back to give you both privacy. “Hey, chin up, y/n.” He tells you with a gentle smile. Oh, you haven’t seen that in a while. What if that’s the last— “I’ll be back before you know it.” Quickly, you shake that thought away. “I don’t care what you do, but you have to come back.” Your knuckles turned white as you held on to the metal bars of the bed to keep you from shedding a single tear. “Promise me, Seiichi.”
“Anywhere specific?” Even at this time he’s still a little tease. A part of you is glad that his sickness didn’t break his spirit and sense of humour. He takes your hand in his freezing one and gently brushed his thumb over your knuckles. Yes, you have to come back to— “Me. You need to come back to me.” You finally said what you wanted to say all along. That moment was short lived. The nurse came back to Seiichi’s side to tell him they needed to get going. You two share one last look and it started getting even harder for you to contain your tears. “I never break my promise, do I, y/n?” You nod as you let out a deep breath. “I’ll see you soon.” The nurse wheeled him away and you were forced to let go of his hand. You joined the rest of the team as you all watch Seiichi slowly getting further and further from everyone until he disappears behind the metal doors. “Sooo…” Akaya breaks the silence. All of you turn to him looking curious. “Buchou doesn’t need to know I lost my match, right?” Bunta clicks his tongue and slaps him at the back of his head. You still found the spirit to laugh at Akaya’s remark. You were thankful, at least, that you had these boys by your side who have the natural talent to turn anyone mood around. Especially the team’s youngest member with his silly little remarks. Because you spent so much time with Seiichi, you started spending a lot of time with these goofs too. They were like your family, especially Akaya who became like a little brother to you. “So now we wait…” Youre the only who heard Yanagi say that, and you know he was right. You can’t do anything more now other than wait.
END OF PART 1
DISCLAIMER:
I do not own these characters and original story. Characters belong to the original creator (Takeshi Konomi). This is just for fun and I don’t intend on making any profit from this whatsoever.
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nathjonesey-75 · 5 years ago
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A Decade Away
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In August (which already feels like last year), I passed over an interesting date on my calendar, as on the 22nd – somewhat incredulously – I had been living abroad from Wales and Britain for ten years. A decade outside Europe. Ten years ago upon leaving, I had nothing to lose but a wide-open space in which to travel, discover and meet all variations of people, cultures and places.
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  In this crazy time, I have lived on two continents, changed careers (a few times again); witnessed modern slavery, seen the remnants and after-effects of colonialism in new and old lands, learnt stuff, dropped habits, restarted those habits and dropped them again, realised what I missed while sacrificing those things for work; confirmed myself as an atheist, met someone in another land - who grew up, just a mile away from me – and married them; learnt more stuff - had young students die tragically, lost friends to cancer, worked under ridiculous conditions, made friends and lost acquaintances; had lots of surgery, seen equality rights improve but be violently opposed, seen my country finally qualify for a football finals tournament, owned my first dogs and love them like kids, seen the horrific, evil right-wing shadow cast over the world so bewilderingly subtle that I cannot recognise the world from ten years ago. And breathe.
 As I pulled away from the glamour of Llanelli railway station on that date in August a decade ago; parents tearful (I was thirty-four and had left several times by this point – go figure); it seemed like the adventure it was about to become. Like the Lord Of The Rings story, I was to travel through some questionable places but alternatively - observe sights I wouldn’t have imagined. In my first hour of Doha life, seeing a woman in different attire to the usual Trostre car park attire in 2009 – ordering a shop worker around like a slave. “Get me this…get me that…” while repeatedly prodding his shoulder. Mind blown. Like I was watching a rich Caucasian American family from the late 1700s - jump to the 21st Century with their shopping techniques (Just to clarify - it was the manner and behaviour, not the attire which caused the bigger shock). The aisles of Asda in West Wales suddenly glittered with freedom. Yet somehow I stayed in the dusty, humid backward land for four years.
  Not having record shops, comic or other book shops nearby – and the advent of a pub being a ‘membership only’ do – with very little else to do in Qatar, became a four-year strain. Although, the carnage of Friday brunch – paying the equivalent of £40-80, depending on the hosting hotel – for stuffing your face with all readily available food and guzzling sparking wine or beer for three-to-four hours until you stumbled out, into the hot sun – had a degree of rebellious sun about it. Away from the narrow lanes of daily Qatari constitution and archaic religious laws.
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 Realising that Melbourne was an escape route (by this time both Mr and Mrs Jones were infused by the travel bug – a return to Blighty was not an option), we visited the city in February 2013; kindly subsidised by Katherine’s future – and previous – employers. Our first encounter starting on a high street (for more than one intended pun reason) being that of intoxicated-to-oblivion bodies being dragged out of both McDonalds and KFC on a Friday night. Now this is more like home. High streets with open drunkenness and debauchery. Sign us up.
  Not only that, but the self-appointed, clever social secretary – Mrs Jones – had organised what was to become my personal Australian favourite – its wine, through a vineyard tour of the Yarra Valley. If we could have been sold Melbourne – and Australia – any better in one week, I would be surprised. Plus the British and Irish Lions were touring here from June that year, so it could possibly be a dream come true, of seeing one of their test matches. It had to be Melbourne.
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 Of course, when you’re itching to leave a spiritually toxic place, yearning for a new social catapult in a new home – positives are mostly what you’ll see. Which is why living around the world – leaving the rough times with hope; expecting – or at least wishing for the rough to become smoother – it can be the most exposing and openly blatant aspect of life as an expat. Not knowing what will come next can be an exciting part of an adventure. It can also be of huge personal detriment should you not hit the ground running and settle into the new environment. While I have lived with immense pride at how my wife’s career has glowed in Melbourne, to say my working journey in Australia has been stop-start is like saying a Tarantino move ‘may contain violence’.
  We can all live in a media-controlled bubble, wherever we are in the world. I would guess that most British people above thirty-five years of age would retain the idea that Australia is more alike the sun-drenched, ‘barbie’-having, beer-drinking eternal summers, as seen on Paul Hogan’s old adverts, Home and Away – as well as England’s Ashes tours are played in hot conditions. The thing with the validity of Paul Hogan’s Foster’s commercials – as good as they were, no-one in Australia drinks it. If it were the only thing available at a party, I’d have water. That’s always been my opinion of the uric juice. Australians have a joke about why they sell it to Britain because ‘Poms are stupid enough to drink it’. Thus, the irony and paradox of Foster’s being a symbol of Australia – it is not like Britain in the sun. You have to live here to know the hidden nuances. Sometimes, the hard way.
 For instance, no-one would have told you that despite all your experience in certain industries in Britain – if you haven’t got “local” experience in Melbourne, then you won’t be employed (https://www.bbc.com/news/business-29206260). Hundreds of my unanswered job applications are testimony to that. Not many people can identify a Welsh accent. People will guess you’re Irish, English and Scottish - then run out of ideas of where else you could possibly come from. Rugby is not important in Melbourne (despite Australia having won the World Cup twice). Neither is driving or speaking fluently. Just abbreviate everything and end each word with an ‘o’. First world problems for graduates of an English and Culture degree, who still value their own culture and wonder why professional instructors are not mandatory in a Western, developed country.
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  First world problems or not – a decade later, third world problems seem to be entering the first world. Tomorrow, the general election of the four nations which are anything but united by royalty – and would certainly find it difficult to describe Britain as ‘great’ these days; regardless which side, fragment or definition of politics – you follow. It has become so depressingly divisive that it has split families – and societies right through those home nations. Politics across the world has become so murky and manipulative that no good comes of it. Social media, fake media, fake politicians, social tension – nothing is real. Apart from the poverty, confusion and disunity which has come from misinformation, lies and no real leadership.
 When I left Europe, I wanted to find both myself – and my home. As mentioned, I had nothing to lose at the time – had my country been a thriving place, filled with opportunities – very much how Australians feel about their country – I may not have felt such wanderlust in my veins. I wanted to find my place. A place of belonging. In my home land, not only is it an industrial corpse which has become increasingly depressing to see its degradation in the past decade with each visit – but now won’t trust anyone so will seemingly vote for the ones who have harmed it most. If I really believed statistics being published this week about voting trends; Welsh voters now have lost their own moral compass and found a new level of Stockholm Syndrome, it would seem. My fingers are crossed to breaking point – in hope that those figures were nothing but propaganda. In 2019, anything is possible.
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    Wales – which has never had a Conservative majority – and rightly so considering its utter negligence of Wales - also now even being bandied as ‘West Britain’ by the future plans of the aristocratic parties, based in England – relies on tourism and the export of agriculture to survive. Universities help finance some aspects of the very few small cities we have, but outside of these urban entities, there is little growth. Considering the gentrification of larger cities (mostly in England) in the 2000s, isn’t it high time it happened in provincial towns?
 The fact that some of my family – have told me they would probably vote Conservative this week – shows the predicament and alienation which is comparable to that of the 1930s in Germany and brought forth intolerance of racial and cultural variations. “Let’s vote for those who promise the most, have the least recent blemishes on their vague moral compasses – and hope for the best” – seems to be the strategy of casting a vote. The state of the NHS alone should be enough to veer the vote away from Captain Buffoon and his Blue Bigot Army. Elimination should be purely by track record, or by granting new chances. Not by being duped by rhetoric which will be forgotten in six months’ time apart from when a journalist raises the point - when it’s too late. Being loyal to your punisher is such a classist, British trait which seems to be perpetuated.
 Now, at the end of the decade – it should be said that I probably still have little to lose. With no dependents apart from my little canine children, the next chapter now depends on what effects Brexshit will have on travel and work opportunities in Europe and the Northern Hemisphere. As an ex-teacher, hospitality pro and semi-professional DJ and producer – using the “anything is possible” to my advantage is the watchword. With social and international reasonability at an almost-anarchic state of suspended reality, the “one life, one chance” motto has to be imprinted on my mind.
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  In my mid-forties, it feels like that the wanderlust needs to be summoned again. I’m finding it harder enduring bad road rules, taking orders from millennials who think they know everything, missing watching my teams at reasonable times, missing festivals which only happen up north, missing comedy such as Vic and Bob; time zone difficulties and being so far away from my interests, as well as friends and family. Coming to Melbourne with a completely open mind was something I’d repeat, should I head for a new habitat. Bearing in mind and researching cultural differences is definitely something I’d do, emphatically and thoroughly. The older you get, alarm bells ring louder with each situation. You just don’t want those bells to be a daily chime, after a while. So the most liveable place for me - would have an essential checklist of being – tolerant, multicultural, musical, a maximum of 3 hours’ time difference to Britain, with an effective infrastructure and not over-expensive. Now, where could that be?
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ecotone99 · 5 years ago
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[SF] LUDIMΔGIK - Prologue
Before you stroll through the oft-bewildering paths I've woven within this forest of pages, I warn you that I did not create the smoke, nor what you see reflected in the mirrors around you. Nonetheless, how you decide to act might save us.
As you're well aware, you’ve just begun reading a story. You suspect I've made this up, but that some of it must be true. Some of it's happened, there's no doubt. It’s happened before, and it happens here in the pages, before the real-life events they describe. Fiction becoming fact. There's nothing novel about it, really. I’m saying this to lure you in, and you may resent me for it, but the events themselves are incidental. The events on these pages I’m creating because I need to tell you something important.
Of course, what kind of story teller would I be if I told you the thing on the first page? Not a very good one. You wouldn't care very much. By tomorrow, forgotten. No, we need to let plot transpire, details percolate. You have sifting to do. But I do urge you, deeply so, in regard to these lies that I tell: please don't fail to see the truth in them.
What, though, is truth? A timeless question, just about gone trite. Still, take a moment to come up with a definition for yourself. Look it up, if you want. I encourage it. I'd imagine your answer is something like you know information is true if you can see enough proof of its accuracy, or maybe feel it in your gut. Truth is factual, “in accordance with reality.” But what is seeing? What is it that you see, when you look around? If you're one who sees things not with your two eyes, but with your mind's eye, is this vision any more or less true than the optic one with which you touch? You cannot know, can you? And to those seeing, who is letting you see, and why?
I'll endeavor to answer the age-old question, this being, in large part, a display of an ego's battle with humility. (Okay, who even is this writer?) I guess I have just as much a right to as the next guy or gal. After all, we evaluate stories for their meanings, for what we take away from them. For what is and isn’t true about them, or how much you can corroborate them with what you "know." But isn’t knowledge what we use to decide what’s true? If we decide something is true, does that make it a fact? Or just an opinion? Our knowledge, what we “know:” isn’t that just the sum of the conclusions we have each individually formed, whether we're aware or not, from the outcomes of indescribable interplays between what we're born with and our ever-changing experiences? With our senses, knowledge forms. It guides us, betrays us.
For me, truth is a god. Truth cares not for labels of good and evil. It plays no favorites. It hurts, then it heals. It's vengeance, it’s forgiveness. It’s the fly on the wall, minding its own business. Truth is all over the place, yet nowhere to be found.
Then there are beliefs. We all need something to believe in. Beliefs give us purpose. We protect them, and in turn they keep us living. So with about a bajillion of them walking around on this planet, isn't it more a question of how much our "truths," our beliefs overlap? The Occam's Razor truths, in a way, the ones that are easiest to live by. Or is it possible that a single belief, perhaps several, can ring truer than the rest? Can we, after the cat swipes an unexpected paw of paint onto the canvas, keep what stands out, and realize it provides much needed balance and structure to the whole?
And what, most importantly, do we do when we don't know the truth? When multiple parties spin their truths? Can we be brave enough to say, "I don't know, but this is what I believe. This is why"? When should we jump from the one horse, science, to the other, faith? Is it possible to ride with a foot on both horses? That's a kind of a funny way to describe a world hanging in the balance.
I will call myself for the purposes of my intentions your most reliable narrator. Your least desultory one, the one who would rather you not know who I am, but here I am anyway. (Do not make the mistake of confusing me with the pitiable writer.) You will, of course, hear other versions. You will decide who has your best interests at heart. I will be of no help in that regard. It is your responsibility to be informed, to think for yourself. I do not force you to read these words, or to reply to them. Talk is a smokescreen; I like you anyway. Or maybe, I'll have tried to, and I'll still wish you well. No, what I need from you is to remember is that no matter what you hear, I'm you're most reliable liability, and you can count on me to speak the truth no matter what the cost.
Ludimagik. Both an open world and a tournament named after itself. The dreamscape. Think Fortnite, the fort-building video game, but glamorous, and tragicomic. Or Grand Theft Auto, in your dreams. Players form alliances and put on poker faces. They go to sleep and escape to astral terrains where they meet up with one another to plot at taking out opposing sides. At night they live it up in their open worlds, roaming around carrying knives and guns, trying to protect each other's bases, and one way or another, take down the Royals of opposing sides and capture the Player’s Vitacrate, a cube of life essence protected by each Player’s team. It’s corny, but people change themselves to get their hands on those little boxes.
The Vitacrate will win you a Round, but there’s another element that determines the winner of a tournament: the Voters. All the spectators who watch each Round vote on their favorite performances via an app. Who are these Voters? To start with, they’re you. (There are others too, of course. The votes that count more, if you live in the real world. Are you one of these others? Depends. What’s your address? How many zeros are in your bank account?) During the day the battles often continue in the form of twitter feuds, texts and chatter. Then you all chime in. You know, with opinions. The Voters listen to public opinion. Rather, they pay attention to who the public cares about. It’s a cycle. Why?
Because this is what our world wants. To be distracted.
Unfortunately, humankind seems better at reacting to immediate, short-term threats than at preventing long-term devastation. (What is he talking about? Is this going to be about climate change?) I am talking about a break down in the realm of Spirit. I am talking about our unthinkable unpreparedness for the future. About innovation. About adaptation. We are all, everything and one, parts of a whole. If mankind begins to slowly eradicate and destroy the parts that is made of, then like the ancient “disappearing” Mayans who did not realize how depleting the rainforest around them was detrimental to their survival, so can and will mankind if it continues to overexert itself.
Intense and ominous enough for you? Hysterically, so? Well, why not escape! Be a spectator of your own. Come, witness Ludimagik. Perchance tonight your dreams will take you to some land of your fancy, maybe a castle in the sky, or a long-forgotten ruins under the sea. But be quick! To wake up! Since underneath your very own sleeping bones it's warming, it's getting too hot, nearly ready to shed off all its clothes...
*****
Find the next installment here. Please share if you are interested...
submitted by /u/nick_boatwright [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/37Zld4I
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biofunmy · 5 years ago
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The N.B.A. Elite Are Now From Everywhere
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It was at the 2018 All-Star Game in Los Angeles that I asked Steve Nash, one of the foremost imports in N.B.A. history, if the league would ever be ready — really ready — for a Rest of the World vs. United States format for its annual midseason showcase.
“We’re getting there,” Nash said then.
Nash suggested that perhaps 2022 would be “the time to try it,” as a 30th anniversary tribute to the original Dream Team that wowed the world at the Barcelona Olympics.
That forecast is looking smarter every day.
Understandably somewhat lost last week amid the very sad news of the former N.B.A. commissioner David Stern’s death was the bulletin from the league office detailing the first batch of returns from fan balloting for next month’s All-Star Game in Chicago.
The leading vote-getter in the Eastern Conference: Milwaukee’s Giannis Antetokounmpo from Greece.
The leading vote-getter in the West: Dallas’s Luka Doncic of Slovenia.
Fan voting will always generate outrage for one reason or another. Boston’s little-used Tacko Fall, who placed sixth among East frontcourt candidates, and the Los Angeles Lakers’ Alex Caruso, who landed at No. 8 among West guards, were the primary causes for complaints from the opening round of polling. Yet you scarcely heard a quibble about the fact that LeBron James trailed both Giannis and Luka even though he has joined Anthony Davis in powering the Lakers to a 29-7 start.
Antetokounmpo is the league’s reigning Most Valuable Player Award winner and is playing at an even higher level this season. Doncic has yet to appear in an N.B.A. playoff game, but he has established himself as a consensus top-10 player by averaging a ridiculous 29.7 points, 9.7 rebounds and 8.9 assists in his sophomore season — leading the upstart Mavericks to a surprising 23-13 record in the process.
Unlike Nash’s era, when the N.B.A. certainly featured numerous successful international players but only a few who were considered truly elite, there are several at that level besides Giannis and Luka.
The Cameroonian duo of Philadelphia’s Joel Embiid and Toronto’s Pascal Siakam have their own gaudy stat lines that make them All-Star locks.
Denver’s Nikola Jokic (Serbia), despite some slippage in his numbers from last season, remains the unquestioned fulcrum for the team with the second-best record in the West.
Utah’s Rudy Gobert (France) is not assured of making his All-Star breakthrough next month because a defense-first reputation like his historically doesn’t help much in All-Star campaigning. But Gobert has made such an all-around impact for the Jazz that you can find his name on Basketball Reference’s M.V.P. tracker at a solid No. 10.
Minnesota’s Karl-Anthony Towns, who was born in New Jersey but represents the Dominican Republic internationally, played in the past two All-Star Games and would be a cinch for a third appearance if not for a recent knee injury — and the Timberwolves’ slump to a 14-21 record from a 10-8 start.
Throw in top All-Star contenders such as Philadelphia’s Ben Simmons (Australia) and Indiana’s Domantas Sabonis (Lithuania) — as well as All-Stars of recent vintage such as Orlando’s Nikola Vucevic (Montenegro), Philadelphia’s Al Horford (Dominican Republic), Toronto’s Marc Gasol (Spain), Miami’s Goran Dragic (Slovenia) and Dallas’s Kristaps Porzingis (Latvia) — and the point becomes clear.
There may not quite be 12 internationals playing at an indisputable All-Star level as we speak, but it’s increasingly fair to ask, as Nash predicted, if we’re all that far away.
Porzingis, after all, is working his way back to an All-Star standard after a lengthy injury layoff. Two of Nash’s young fellow Canadians — Oklahoma City’s Shai Gilgeous-Alexander and Denver’s Jamal Murray — have also flashed All-Star potential. Recent top-five lottery picks include Phoenix’s Deandre Ayton (Bahamas) and the Knicks’ R.J. Barrett (Canada).
The way things are going, as we dribble into a new decade, it looks as though mathematical fairness is the only deterrent to N.B.A. Commissioner Adam Silver’s trying out a United States/World format.
There were 108 foreign-born players on opening-night rosters this season, meaning there were more than 300 American-born players. It simply wouldn’t be equitable for two groups of such disparate size to battle for 12 All-Star spots each.
But I also don’t believe that the league is married to its two-year-old system in which the two leading vote-getters, as captains, pick their respective squads without regard to conference. For all the anticipation and chatter that the made-for-television selection show generates, momentum from the first game played using this format in L.A. in 2018, after years of waning interest, did not carry over to the 2019 edition in Charlotte.
Don’t forget that Silver, when he initially proposed the introduction of an in-season tournament starting with the 2020-21 season, was looking at the final four of that competition as a potential replacement for the All-Star Game entirely. The league ultimately backed off that proposal when teams and the players’ union voiced resistance to an in-season tournament that would fall any later on the league’s calendar than December, but Silver’s original thinking suggests that the N.B.A. remains concerned about how flat All-Star Games tend to feel.
At the M.I.T. Sloan Sports Analytics Conference in Boston in March, remember, Silver himself said the 2019 All-Star Game “didn’t work” and admitted that the most recent changes were akin to putting “an earring on a pig.”
Maybe the starry imports who have succeeded Nash, Dirk Nowitzki, Pau Gasol, Tony Parker and all the international stars from the last decade will never get their chance to engage the Americans in an All-Star duel. Maybe restricting that format to the Rising Stars Game featuring first- and second-year players, as the N.B.A. has done for the past five seasons, is the right call.
Yet the mere fact that the debate only gets stronger may be as fitting a tribute as we can muster for Stern — since taking the N.B.A. global before any other North American sport, and to a much greater degree, is such a huge slice of his legacy.
The Scoop @TheSteinLine
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You ask; I answer. Every week in this space, I’ll field three questions posed via email at [email protected]. (Please include your first and last name, as well as the city you’re writing in from, and make sure “Corner Three” is in the subject line.)
Q: Where would you rank David Stern as a commissioner compared to those in other sports like Pete Rozelle in the N.F.L., Bowie Kuhn or Fay Vincent in baseball, etc.? — Bob Purcell (San Diego)
Stein: I covered a smattering of all the major North American men’s team sports in my youth, but I have been covering the N.B.A. almost exclusively since February 1994. So it’s not really fair for me to answer this one.
I would naturally put Stern ahead of all his competitors because I know so much more about his work. Most of my older peers always say that mythical top spot has to go to either Stern or Rozelle. But as our own Harvey Araton sagely noted when I asked him, Stern’s edge may well be that on his watch the N.B.A. achieved relevance on social, cultural and international fronts that the N.F.L. — for all its advantages in TV prominence and in-stadium attendance — can’t match.
What I can say with greater confidence is that I will always wish Stern, upon ceding his office to Adam Silver in February 2014, would have spent a few years trying to bring order to a sport he loved almost as much as I do: tennis.
Tennis has always suffered greatly from the lack of a commissioner who could exert authority over the sport’s many (too many, really) competing factions. But Stern’s focus, for pretty much his entire adult life, was the N.B.A. and growing/enhancing/protecting his league. So I am forced to concede that it probably would have been hard for him to muster anywhere near the same passion for another sport in a working capacity.
Q: I have to agree with the recent comment here that the Raptors are mostly ignored by the American sports media. Maybe you are an exception, but why aren’t more people writing about the Chris Boucher story alone? — Kent Goodwin (Stowe, Vt.)
Stein: I think we’ve reached the point in this discussion where nothing I say is going to persuade the skeptics. But I think I will be vindicated when Coach of the Year Award voting results are released in June.
The Raptors awoke on Tuesday on a 54-win pace. If they maintain that level for the rest of the regular season, given the ridiculous string of injuries they’ve faced along the way, Nick Nurse will have a real shot at winning the C.O.Y. prize — and thus prove how closely the Raptors are being monitored south of the border in the post-Kawhi Leonard era.
It was suggested to me last week by a trusted insider that the Raptors just might surprise us again before the Feb. 6 trade deadline and emerge as buyers to fortify themselves for another playoff run. The widespread assumption coming into the season held that Toronto would trade the veteran likes of Kyle Lowry, Marc Gasol and Serge Ibaka to prepare for a reset in the summer of 2021 built around the free-agency pursuit of Milwaukee’s Giannis Antetokounmpo. (I predicted as much myself.)
The safe bet remains that Masai Ujiri, Toronto’s president of basketball operations, will avoid any deals that affect the Raptors’ cap space in 2021. But the Raptors will be a huge source of curiosity over the next month — thanks in part to the unexpected contributions from the likes of Boucher, Terence Davis, Matt Thomas, Oshae Brissett and O.G. Anunoby — whether or not they’re generating reams of coverage.
Q: How convenient for you. Now you get to expand your hate for Houston beyond basketball. — @venramamurthy from Twitter
Stein: This tweet came in response to my social media cheering for the Buffalo Bills as a proud former Western New Yorker — which lasted until the Bills unraveled in Saturday’s A.F.C. wild-card loss to the Houston Texans to extend their drought without a playoff win to 1995.
The supposition from Venkat is that rooting against the Texans was a natural for me because I “hate” his Rockets.
We’re still not past this stuff in 2020, friends?
My only issues with Houston, here in the real world, are the traffic, how hard it is to get to Cafe Adel for some wonderful Bosnian food in that traffic when staying downtown and the oppressive weather from June to September (my quarrel with every city in Texas — including the one I live in).
Happy New Year!
Numbers Game
$2,615,000
In 20 years as the team owner of the Dallas Mavericks, Mark Cuban has accrued more than $2.6 million in publicly announced fines from the N.B.A., according to this ledger maintained by the longtime Mavericks historian Patricia Bender. Not all fines issued by the league office are made public.
6
The N.B.A.’s two Florida teams sport quite the contrast with their records in overtime games so far this season: Miami is 6-0, and Orlando is 0-0.
16-19
The Pacers finished three games under .500 last season after losing Victor Oladipo to a ruptured quadriceps muscle in his right leg and were swept by Boston in a first-round playoff series. After acquiring Malcolm Brogdon in an off-season sign-and-trade with Milwaukee, Indiana is on a 51-win pace this season without Oladipo but still doesn’t know when he will return.
3-2
The potential downside of the Los Angeles Clippers’ well-chronicled “load management” strategy with Kawhi Leonard is that they may have to settle for a playoff seed that forces them to play the Lakers sooner than the conference finals. Thanks to an underwhelming 3-2 mark since their impressive Christmas Day defeat of the Lakers, Kawhi and Co. awoke on Tuesday as the West’s No. 4 team — which has the Clippers on course for a second-round playoff encounter with their Staples Center cotenants.
20
The Lakers’ 20 blocked shots in a home win on Sunday over Detroit were a rarity. According to Basketball Reference, no N.B.A. team had recorded at least 20 blocked shots in a game since it happened twice in 2001: Toronto with 23 against Atlanta in March 2001 and the Raptors with 20 against Golden State in November 2001.
Hit me up anytime on Twitter (@TheSteinLine) or Facebook (@MarcSteinNBA) or Instagram (@marcsteinnba). Send any other feedback to [email protected].
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makumii · 5 years ago
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Answers to last rb - End of Year Meme
First things first, did you have a good year? kinda???? it sure was interesting and the first half sucked balls..
How old did you turn this year? 21
Do you feel your age? I feel 14 and 36 at the same time - it sure is fun to be alive
Did your appearance change in anyway? finally dyed my hair again! (currently blue) Also ears pierced in december
Post your favorite selfie. jokes on u i dont make selfies
If you traveled, where did you go? spent a week in cologne at a friends place for gamescom and another week in the middle of austria on a farm! (vacation - wooohoo)
Which fashion trends did you love? i dont even know any trends that occured this year help
Which fashion trends did you hate? see above
What was your favorite article of clothing this year? Post a pic if possible? very recent but that one fancy black coat i got myself for christmas (https://www.emp.at/p/malphas/397063.html)
What song sums up this year for you? Breathin - Ariana Grande but the Thomas Sanders cover
What album came out and has been on heavy rotation since then? i dont even know what got releassed this year what is timeee
What was your favorite movie of the year? HOOOO boy okay: Klaus, Frozen 2, Joker and that’s about all that i remember
Did an actor/actress catch your attention for the first time this year? not really, i didnt have my eyes on many new faces this year
Favorite new TV show? She Ra probably?? Again, nothing overly new on that side |D Also not rly a TV show but I super got into critical role
Which new ship/fandom has taken over a lot of your time, attention, and tears? Entrapdak all the way - those two basically killed me Also Critical Role (thanks B.) -> I’m only 40 episodes in the second campaign but BOY am I deep in
What food did you try for the first time? none as far as i’m aware?
Did you make any big permanent changes this year? uhhhhh i think my confidence got a boost in the second half of the year so i think that counts? Also ear piercings
What was one nice thing you did for someone else? sponsored an entire Christmas market visit for my best bro (Food and souvenirs included)
What was one nice thing you did for yourself? as cruel as it sounds, i broke up with my boyfriend which was quite freeing Also finally dyed hair again and I am LIVING
Did you develop a new obsession? Critical Role |D
Did you vote? Yeap
Did you move? Nope, but I might move out in 2020
Did you get a job? already had one, but thanks for asking <3
Did you get a pet? nope, only plushies
Do you regret not doing anything? OH Y E A H - there’s a bunch of things (not dancing with my maybe-crush at the christmas party, not breaking up sooner with my bf, and some other things i won’T remember rn but I am the master of not doing things and regretting it afterwards)
Do you regret doing something? probably, but i currently don’t remember; I’ll probably think of it during my next breakdown
Have you done anything that scared you? nope, didn’t do it because i was scared and now I regret not doing it |D
Did anyone/thing make you so mad it stayed with you for days? I don’t really get mad? But the biggest ball of negative emotions was caused by my breakup
Did you lose anyone close to you? my ex! we broke up and he didn’t want to stay in touch so there’s that
Did you fall in love? actually i might have; still working on figuring that shit out
Did you fall out of love? nope; even tho we only broke up this year it’s been over for me since the end of 2018
Did you start a new relationship? no, but there might be something in the works???????? IDK what to make of this situation
Did you go through a break up? ohhhh yeah - and it wasn’T as bad as expected (we already had a big major breakup at the end of 2018 so i already was prepared for the ‘final’ one)
Did you have to cut ties to someone? It wasn’t my choice unfortunately
Who was important to you this year but wasn’t important last year? the first person that came to my mind was important last year too so idk? no new people in my life
Who wasn’t as important to you this year as they were last year? my ex (I love how he’s in most of the answers lmaoo)
If you could have a do over on one thing you did, would you take it? heck yeah! if i had the chance to dance with that one dude?? I’d say yes immediately (he was kinda disappointed i said no so I SHOULDVE SAID YES)
What was the best moment of the year for you? have to name a few actually: - christmas party at work (including a mario kart tournament) - gamescom (and staying at a good friend’s place for a week!!) - christmas dinner at my granny’s bc i finally got to get back to my second half of the family) - my almost 1.0 GPA at school
What was the worst? - breakup (even if it wasn’t as bad, it still sucked) - my almost 1.0 GPA (SO CLOSE sklhgfsdköfjhskdö)
Did anything happen that you were sure would change you as a person but it really didn’t? - the break up -> but i guess since i saw it comming it didn’t have as much power over me - a certain thing i might’ve done last year around christmas but wasn’t as bad as it seemed?? it’s all chill and just showed me some things about me that i wasn’t as certain of
Did anything happen to you that you were sure wouldn’t change you as a person but it did? actually no?? not that im aware of - okay maybe the maybe-crush accidentally helped me with my self confidence but uhhh idk if that counts or sth
What are you most proud of accomplishing? some sort of SELF WORTH got out of a toxic relationship
What have you learned about yourself this year that you didn’t know in the years prior? idk next
Did your opinion of anyone change for the better? honestly i don’t know, i still love my friends and no one is better off all of a sudden? idkkkk
Did your opinion of anyone change for worse? nope not that i’m aware of
If you make resolutions, did you complete them this year? even if i did make some I don’t remember them oops
If you make resolutions, what will your resolutions be for the coming year? maybe draw more? get back into piano playing? something like this also v important: 2020 me, dont let others ruin your self worth any further!!!!!! GO AND ROCK THOSE CLOTHES!!!!!!!!
If you could go on an adventure during the remaining days of the year, where would you go and what would you do?  Who would you go this? I’m perfectly content here at home - the most adventurous I’d do is going to a friend’s place or something
What do you wish for others for the coming year? Lot’s of love and happiness, I wish for everyone to find their family and being able to surround themselves with people they love and that care about them!
What do you wish for yourself? That I stop being such a scared lil shit Srsly, if smn cute wants to dance with you u better say yes!!!!! Also that I can find more parts of my true self
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theritualofourexistence · 6 years ago
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2-0-GREAT-TEEN.
Just kidding. I absolutely refuse to call 2018 a “great” year. Mostly because I don’t know that anything is ever really “great” to me... I enjoy life’s complexities and I’ve worked hard to embrace them. But, when you take that approach, the live-in-the-moment, go-with-the-flow perspective shows you the good and the bad in basically everything. And while I have accomplished a lot this year, nothing is ever purely good. If nothing is ever purely good, and there’s always at least a little bit of bad, it feels sort of misleading to call anything “great.”
This sermon may or may not be connected to our idiot-President’s infamous slogan. 
And the knowledge that America has never really been great because we’ve been slaughtering entire populations of minorities for literally our whole existence.
ANYWAY.
That’s not why we’re here today. Today, we’re here for a recap! It’s early but I saw a post on Facebook recently that inspired me to sit down and write this now so here we are. 
Tumblr media
Theeeere’s the punchline! 
Though I think some people probably see that little comic and think, “wow, what a dark way to look at a year,” for me (and for many people I know) not only is it a very real feeling but it’s also a triumphant one. 
So, with that picture in mind, let’s look back at 2018.
I survived my mom’s second foot surgery. My year started with Mom’s recovery from foot surgery number two. We weren’t able to do our normal holiday travel but it was really nice to spend that time at home and just relax. Once she was feeling well enough to travel, we headed to Jersey for time with cousins and their sunshine babies. 
I survived THE EAGLES WINNING THE GOTDANG SUPERBOWL. And let me tell you, I very nearly didn’t. The number of times my heart came to a screeching halt in my chest during playoffs and the run up to the Superbowl was too high to count. Then the actual game itself. I legitimately burst into hyperventilating, heaving sobs when the game ended. I’ve been an Eagles fan for a long time... I think I’m probably amongst the masses when I say that no one had expectations for success going into the playoffs last year. Watching the Eagles win was SUPER cool, but do I think they’re a great football team? ... No. I love them. And I will always root for them. But last year felt very much like some sort of fairy tale. An admittedly fun fairy tale though.
I survived my first semester of full time classes and internship. It was hard but I did it. And I got some good experience at a non-profit that focuses on rehabilitation of returning citizens... something very close to my heart that I hope to make a significant part of my career some day.
I survived the March for Our Lives. And I am SO glad that my professor allowed us to leave class to be a part of it. There are a handful of other socio-political/social justice issues that I wish I could’ve marched for but at the end of the day, gun control is one of the most important issues to me and I am honored to have been among the marching masses that day.
I survived Avengers: Infinity War. Barely.
I survived (and passed) my comprehensive exam. Though I spent most of my vacation preparing for and worrying about it... I did what I needed to do to cross it off my list and I am so proud of how I managed my anxiety in the weeks leading up to the exam.
I survived Crisis Intervention Team training! This is how I completed the internship requirement for my MA program and it ended up teaching me a lot of incredibly valuable skills for crisis situations as well as introducing me to a lot of the local resources available in Centre County. Hopefully the contacts I made during my training will be helpful in the continued pursuit of my career as well!
I survived the World Cup. It wasn’t exactly what I wanted, but it was still SO much fun to watch good soccer with my family. My team ended up being Croatia and they came so, so close to winning their first Cup. France played like champions for the whole tournament though and I cannot wait to see the type of player Mbappe becomes.
I survived my family reunion! I have almost always struggled with personal comparison. Whether that looked like competition between my friends in high school for the best grades or judging which cousin got into the best school and how well they did there... it’s been a problem for me for a long time. I’m the oldest of 15 cousins on my dad’s side. I am the only one who is overweight/obese. I am the only one who is nearly 30 and still living at home. It is SO hard not to get sucked into self-pity when I think about these things but my time with my family ended up being a true delight. 
I survived a beautiful photo shoot with my two favorite ladies. Shannon and Mikayla set me up for the best birthday present ever and I had a reclaiming-my-body-positivity photo shoot that yielded some of the truest, most beautiful pictures of me I have ever seen. I am still so thankful for this gift!
I survived our family trip to LBI. I played lots of mini-golf, I spent lots of time in the sun, and I gave myself a chemical burn with lime juice. COOL COOL.
I survived seeing “Hamilton” at the Kennedy Center! The show was incredibly and I feel so fortunate to have seen it... the staging was remarkable and I still think about it A LOT.
In a period of one week, I survived my best friend’s bachelorette party, a serious allergic reaction to a bug bite, and an infection that required antibiotics. I dunno, that kinda speaks for itself. SO fun to share in the party for my best friend... SO hot. And SO not fun to go to urgent care like 4 times in the course of 3 days.
I survived the Kavanaugh saga. This is maybe the thing I am most proud of. I won’t get into it again here but I spent a long time really upset and managed to come through the worst of it. See previous posts for more info.
I survived making cupcakes for and being a part of MY BEST FRIEND’S WEDDING. It was amazing. I am so honored to be a part of your lives, Kelley and Zak, and I am so grateful to have shared in your special day. It’s almost time for your honeymoon and I cannot wait to hear all about your first real adventure as husband and wife!
I survived flipping the house. We still have a lot of work to do but voting is one of the best ways to work for change and I did my duty this fall. 
I survived iron deficiency anemia! In three months I was able to boost my hemoglobin from 9 to 13.8 by taking supplements every other day and by rearranging my diet... I don’t exactly know what that means but my mom says it’s super impressive so this is also something I’m super proud of!
I survived another full semester of classes and my first paid job in my intended field! It was a LONG semester. There were times when I really struggled emotionally and I am so grateful to everyone who helped me stay on track. 
This year I survived a handful of excellent tattoos, I survived the 200th anniversary of Mary Shelley’s “Frankenstein,” I survived so many wonderful friend dates with my tribe in DC, I survived panic attacks and migraines, I survived dating apps, I survived ups and downs and politics and nausea and cat cuddles... I survived my Masters program.
So here we are. I’m not in a great mood today. I’m anxious about our travel for the holidays and my upcoming job search. I have a lot of things on my to do list and I’m sprinting head-first into my fourth holiday season of single living. There are a lot of things up in the air for me now so I’m finding it hard to be positive. But the reality is that for all the hurdles and successes of 2018, when you boil it all down, I survived a lot. We all did. And if nothing else, that’s something to be proud of and to celebrate.
Plus, if I survived all that, I’m sure I will keep fighting and finding new ways to survive whatever comes next. 
If nothing else, I’ll just keep re-reading “Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire” until I feel better.
“As Hagrid had said, what would come, would come... and he would have to meet it when it did.”  
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theconservativebrief · 7 years ago
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Mohamed “Mo” Salah, who plays soccer for Liverpool, England, as well as for Egypt, has just come off a season in which he established himself as one of the most exciting players in the world. A Muslim of North African heritage, he plays, excels, and is adored in Britain, a country in which anti-Muslim sentiment is increasingly part of mainstream political and cultural discourse.
And he should be one of the stars of the upcoming 2018 World Cup later this month — if, that is, he makes it to the tournament at all. Due to a recent injury, that’s now in question.
Salah started playing organized soccer as a teenager on an Egyptian team called the Arab Contractors. He joined Egypt’s national team in 2011 at age 19 and moved to Europe the following year. His first years were promising but patchy, and to say this has been a breakout season for Salah is a massive understatement.
The 25-year-old had never scored more than 19 goals in a single season. This year, he scored 44 goals, with an eye-opening 32 in the Premier League. The only player with better stats in Europe was Barcelona’s Lionel Messi, widely considered to be one of the two best players in the world.
But his stardom doesn’t just come from what he does on the soccer pitch; it also comes from who and what he is off it. His brilliance combined with his charming personality and his faith have made him a hero in Egypt, where his face adorns Ramadan lanterns.
He is arguably the Arab world’s finest homegrown soccer player and most prominent sports star, and hundreds of millions of fans follow his every move.
Here’s what you need to know about Salah: why he’s so popular, and why some are hopeful that his enormous popularity in Britain may help combat the Islamophobic attitudes all too prevalent in the UK and beyond.
The first thing you notice about Salah as he moves around the soccer field is his speed. He’s quick. Very quick. Sizzlingly quick.
He was brought to European football by FC Basel, of Switzerland, after a scouting process that included an exhibition match against Egypt’s under-23 international team. It was supposed to be a warmup game ahead of the Olympics, but as their president, Bernhard Heusler, later confessed to Sky Sports:
The only reason we wanted this match was because of the chance to see Mohamed Salah play live. I will never forget what I saw that day on that pitch. … I had never seen a player with so much speed in my entire life.
Of course, speed means nothing in soccer if you can’t use the ball — this is why Usain Bolt’s dream of playing for Manchester United may never come to pass.
That’s what makes the second thing you notice about Salah so important: His speed doesn’t seem to cost him anything. The ball sticks obligingly to his feet, leaving his eyes free to dart around, searching for the right pass or putting himself in the best position to try to score.
Which leads to third thing you notice: Salah’s wonderful finishing ability. There is a calm and quiet precision about his shooting — a precision that looks, in the moment, an awful lot like inevitability.
Salah scores them all. He’ll roll the ball gently into an empty net if the situation demands it. But when the only route to goal is through the spectacular, then he’s more than capable.
Here’s a video of Salah in action:
[embedded content]
Put all of that together and the result is one of the most exciting soccer players in the world.
But while it’s his skill on the pitch that has made him a hero in Liverpool and Egypt, it’s his emergence in Europe at a time when anti-Muslim bigotry is becoming increasingly normalized across the continent that has made him a figure of intense interest.
It has even led people to wonder if his athletic excellence might play some part in combating intolerance.
There is a calm and quiet precision about his shooting — a precision that looks, in the moment, an awful lot like inevitability
Liverpool’s legendary manager Bill Shankly once said, “If you are first, you are first. If you are second, you are nothing.” But the club Shankly once led hasn’t been English champions since 1990, and it’s been a long and at times agonizing period of nothing.
This is a club looking for a hero. A club that has seen other heroes — Steven Gerrard, Luis Suarez — pass through without bringing that elusive Premier League title. Salah hasn’t brought a title yet either, but he carries the promise: Next year will be Liverpool’s year.
You can see this in Salah’s songs and Salah’s T-shirts, and in the rhapsodic smiles Salah provokes on Liverpool faces. There would be a certain entertaining irony if they were led back to the promised land by a man nicknamed the “Egyptian King.”
As Sports Illustrated notes, Liverpool fans even coined a song for Salah sung to the tune of the 1990s pop hit “Good Enough.” The lyrics are, well, not the usual thing you hear in a sports arena:
Mo Sa-la-la-la-lah, Mo Sa-la-la-la-lah!
If he’s good enough for you, he’s good enough for me. If he scores another few, then I’ll be Muslim too.
If he’s good enough for you, he’s good enough for me. Sitting in the mosque, that’s where I wanna be!
Mo Sa-la-la-la-lah, Mo Sa-la-la-la-lah!
Salah is the leading star of Egypt’s national team, the Pharaohs, and his popularity in his home country even exceeds his standing in Liverpool.
More than a million people submitted write-in votes for Salah in Egypt’s 2018 presidential election, and while the eventual result — Salah pushed the actual opposition candidate into third place — says little for the plurality of Egyptian democracy, it says plenty for Salah’s popularity.
After Salah’s shoulder was dislocated — accidentally? carelessly? deliberately? — by Real Madrid’s Sergio Ramos in Champions League final on May 26, the outcry across social media was remarkable. One Twitter user joked, “Qataris, Saudis, Emiratis, Kuwaitis, Egyptians, Omanis all cursing Sergio Ramos. Thank you Ramos. You united the whole Arab world.”
Islamophobia isn’t new, and certainly isn’t limited to Britain. But Matthew Feldman of Teesside University in the UK says the country, at this moment, has an “acceptance of anti-Muslim discourse that we would find absolutely noxious if it was about someone from an ethnic minority or other religious background” — a claim that will ring true to anybody familiar with Britain’s public conversation.
Even the Times, revered as the national newspaper of record, recently had to apologize for the “enormous offense” caused when it distorted a story regarding Muslim foster families. Meanwhile the governing Conservative Party is facing calls for an inquiry into the “more than weekly” incidents of Islamophobia within in its membership.
Regardless of the views of bigots, it is perhaps Salah’s significance to other Muslims that is the most heartening consequence of his rise to superstardom
How, then, does a much-loved and widely feted Muslim soccer player fit into this?
Salah is not the only Muslim in the Premier League, or even in Liverpool’s squad, but he is certainly the most high-profile, and, to put it bluntly, he appears the most Muslim to a nation reared on stereotypes. His is a public faith, openly expressed.
Indeed, it’s telling that this conversation is only happening now; British football culture has generally preferred to ignore the Muslims on the pitch.
A recent article in the New York Times quoted Miqdaad Versi, assistant secretary general of the Muslim Council of Britain:
He is someone who embodies Islam’s values and wears his faith on his sleeve. He has a likability. He is the hero of the team. Liverpool, in particular, has rallied around him in a really positive way. He is not the solution to Islamophobia, but he can play a major role.
Not everybody shares this view, though.
Asked by the New Yorker about Salah, Joseph Massad, a historian and modern Arab studies professor at Columbia University, noted that former France captain Zinedine Zidane “received much adulation” within France, “but his fame has not mitigated the ongoing Islamophobia of mainstream French culture, and I strongly doubt that Salah’s fame will in any way decrease the mainstream Islamophobia in British culture.”
As Nikesh Shukla, editor of The Good Immigrant, a book of essays by people of color reflecting on their positions in British society, puts it:
The biggest burden facing people of colour in [Britain] is that society deems us bad immigrants — job-stealers, benefit-scroungers, girlfriend-thieves, refugees — until we cross over in their consciousness [by] winning races, baking good cakes…
Or scoring goals.
Islamophobia, then, ends not with the valorization of exceptional Muslims — who are, by definition, exceptions — but in the acceptance of ordinary Muslims. Whether there is a path to the latter through the former remains to be seen.
And as Asif Sujid has noted at the Conversation, the chant described above “is conditional. The chant makes clear that it is only ‘if’ Salah continues to score goals that his displays of Muslimness will be accepted.”
But regardless of the views of bigots, it is perhaps Salah’s significance to other Muslims that is the most heartening consequence of his rise to superstardom. As the New Yorker’s Yasmine Al-Sayyad puts it:
What stands out to me most about Salah, who is far more conspicuously Arab and Muslim than I am, is that he doesn’t seem concerned with trying to blend into anything. He is simply himself. That, more than anything else he has done on the field, is what I admire most.
So will this brilliant more-than-a-footballer make it to Russia? As mentioned above, Salah left the Champions League final early due to injury and was later diagnosed with a dislocated shoulder. That was on May 26, and the Egyptian Football Association estimated that he’ll be fit again in three weeks.
Egypt’s first World Cup match is against Uruguay on June 15. Salah could very well miss that game. Egypt is being optimistic, but since it’s not favorites to win that game anyway, it might hold him back. But he should be back for Egypt’s second game, against Russia, on June 19.
The fear, in truth, isn’t that Salah will miss the tournament. This is the man who scored the penalty that took Egypt to its first World Cup since 1990 and he’d have to be bedridden not to make it out there in some capacity.
Instead, Egyptian fans worry that Salah simply won’t be himself. By the time he returns, he’ll have missed all of Egypt’s warmup games, and going straight from weeks off to matches against some of the world’s most skilled soccer players will be a monstrously difficult task.
Another comparison with Zidane may be unfortunately apt: France’s inspirational captain was rushed back from injury to appear at the 2002 tournament, yet only played one game, was visibly underpowered, and contributed little as France slumped out of the competition without scoring a single goal.
Let’s assume for a moment that Salah returns and is at, or close to, his best. How far could Egypt go in the World Cup?
The Pharaohs play a cautious brand of soccer. Their priority is to maintain a strong defensive unit, reinforced by the midfield. Salah’s speed therefore becomes a counterattacking weapon: If Egypt’s opponents stray too far forward in their attempts to break down the Egyptian defense, they may leave space behind for Salah to exploit.
The World Cup begins with a group stage, in which four teams play each other once in a round-robin format, with the best two progressing to the next stage. Egypt is in Group A along with host-nation Russia, Saudi Arabia, and Uruguay. The South American team is the favorite to win the group, thanks mostly to their attack, which is led by Barcelona’s Luis Suarez and Paris Saint-Germain’s Edinson Cavani.
Meanwhile, Saudi Arabia is the weakest team in the competition, according to FIFA’s rankings, and should finish in last place.
Much depends, then, on Egypt’s game against Russia. Typically, tournament hosts benefit from the atmosphere and the fact that they are on familiar turf, as well as perhaps the odd lenient refereeing decision or two.
But Russia is an unsettled team and hasn’t won a game since October 7, 2017. Egypt certainly won’t be feeling intimidated.
Should the Pharaohs make it past the hosts, things will get really tricky. The two qualifiers from Group A will face the qualifiers from Group B, expected to be the 2010 winner, Spain, one of the favorites for the tournament; and the Euro 2016 winner, Portugal. As such, reaching the last 16 would represent a good tournament for Egypt. Anything beyond that will be dreamland.
But that’s the true value of Salah. When he’s playing for a team you support, you can’t help but dream.
Original Source -> Soccer star Mo Salah’s massive popularity is changing perceptions of Muslims in the UK
via The Conservative Brief
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flauntpage · 7 years ago
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How to Fix the NHL, a League That's Broken
We don't need a big intro. The NHL is broken in countless ways. Let's fix the NHL.
1) Get rid of the salary cap. The salary cap unfairly depresses salaries and creates parity, the most boring thing in sports. I used to be a very big proponent of salary caps so everything would be "fair," but I was an idiot. If you own a team and want to spend $100 million on it, let's go. Can't keep up with the spending? Too bad, find a new way to win. I could do 10,000 words alone on this but a salary cap hinders a lot of fun things in sports, like trades, free agency, and the ability to earn so much money that I can eventually buy the Miami Marlins after I retire.
2) Get rid of the draft. My fallback here is "get rid of the draft lottery," but again, the draft unfairly suppresses earning ability. Rich people are only in favor of a free market as long as they're the ones that get to exploit it. Let's replace the draft with a recruiting system like in the NCAA, where if you make a good enough pitch to an available player, that player will come to your team. Sure, this favors big-market clubs but too bad.
Every system for bringing workers into the NHL will have a flaw, but this one will have players like Rasmus Dahlin sitting at a table with five hats in front of him and his mom next to him. Then he will move his hand toward the Coyotes hat before laughing and putting on the Maple Leafs hat. I need that.
Listen to the latest episode of Biscuits, VICE Sports' hockey podcast
3) Get rid of fighting. Yeah, yeah. I pee sitting down and if I don't like fighting I should go play tennis or whatever. You know what? Fuck you. There's nothing wrong with peeing while sitting down and people actually watch tennis so maybe let's consider going with what that sport does, which is not allow the 567th-ranked player in the world fight Roger Federer to fire himself up. We're at a point where most fights are staged goon-on-goon affairs so if you're still into that, go watch a game from 1983 when nobody knew how to skate.
4) The FIEGI playoff format. You know it. You love it. Let’s do it.
But really, we need to get rid of this divisional nonsense. Let's meet in the middle and go to a 1-8 format. Stop changing things nobody wants changed.
5) Leaving your feet to block a shot is a penalty. I hate when sports reward no-talent try-hards, and hockey rewards them more than any other sport. It boggles my mind when people get pumped about a fourth-line penalty killer sliding to block an Alex Ovechkin bomb from the face-off circle. Seriously? You don't want to see where that slapper was headed?
This would increase goals and reduce injuries. You can dive to take away the puck if you're in chase mode, but no more squaring up a shooter and sliding in front of the shot. Remember when John Tortorella took over the Canucks and people were excited about the Sedins blocking shots? The Sedins! Get out of here with this nonsense.
6) Bigger nets. Let's go three inches vertically and horizontally and see what happens. I've heard the argument against this idea because goalies would eat more blasts in the mask but whenever that happens, it's always by accident and it's always with the goalie on his knees well below the crossbar. If anything, creating more room around the goalie's skull would reduce those instances but really, shots to the mask are always accidental and wouldn't go anywhere either way. More goals, though. Let's get more goals.
7) Puck off the netting is in play. If there's one general thing I'd change about the NHL, I'd reduce the number of whistles during games. Hockey sells itself on flow and speed, but man can there be a lot of whistles. I don't understand why shots that hit the protective netting above the glass can't be played when they bounce back onto the ice. Everyone has had time to adjust to the netting over the years and everyone knows when a puck leaves a stick if it's headed toward the netting. When it bounces behind the goal line, go get it. Keep playing.
For the sake of fairness, anything off the netting and into the net off the goalie doesn't count.
8) No more offside. This also means no more offside reviews. Everyone is happy. Why do we even have offside? If I could go back in time, I'm killing Hitler and kidnapping the guy in 1898 or whenever who was so passionate about an offside line. It's not like the offside line makes the game safer; it's there to give the defense an advantage against oncoming opponents. Why?
Removing offside is another way to get some whistles out of the game and help with flow.
9) Home teams wear white, road teams wear dark. Bring it back.
10) One outdoor game per year. I know I've stumped for giving one to every team every year, but the realistic solution to this dying gimmick is to return to playing one game per year on New Year's Day—EVEN IF THE NFL IS PLAYING THAT DAY. What a cowardly league, afraid to go up against Week 17 of the NFL schedule, which is always terrible. The NHL was like, "We are taking over January 1! Try to stop us!... but hey if there's a Giants-Falcons game that day, we can play on January 2, no problem, sorry for yelling."
And now, we break to hear from the people:
I agree. Blackouts are stupid. If you paid to watch the game on your mobile device, you can do that. Motion passes.
I normally would be on board but now that I'm running the league the idea of shortening the schedule and taking money out of my pocket doesn't work for me. Motion denied.
Yes. Public shamings for any referees that blatantly ignore penalties because they want "the players to decide the game." Do your job. I'm also making referees available to the media after every game—regular season and playoffs. Face the music, fellas!
And now, back to my genius ideas:
11) Referees must explain every video review ruling. I need more than "the call on the ice stands" or "the call on the ice has been overturned." Tell me why! It's not always clear! I don't need a 1,000-word explanation, just the basic reasoning. This is very important for goalie interference reviews. Was the goaltender outside the crease when he was contacted? Did you determine the contact wasn't enough to disrupt the goalie? What's particularly annoying is after the non-explanation explanation, you know what refs do? They go to the bench and explain the decision to the coach! Fuck that coach! What about me?
12) A 3-2-1 points system. Three for a regulation win, two for an overtime/shootout win, one point for an overtime/shootout loss. Rewarding teams with the same amount of points for a 7-0 thumping and a 1-0 win in a breakaway contest or three-on-three competition is asinine. You know it. I know it. Let's change it. Get your artificially inflated point totals for the sake of parity and making teams look better than they are out of here.
13) No more in-game coach interviews. Anyone conducting or participating in an interview with a coach on the bench during a game is subject to 10 years in prison and a $500,000 fine. The network will lose broadcast privileges for 25 years. It's time we got tough on this. Nobody wants these. Fans don't. Coaches don't want to talk to Pierre McGuire. Hell, let's give Pierre the benefit of the doubt and say he has no interest in doing it. Then who are these interviews for? "Honey, hurry up and get back here, Brian Boucher is going to ask Peter DeBoer about the Sharks' start!" Never again.
14) No more in-game, between-periods player interviews. How did this ever get started? After watching 20 minutes of hockey, I need an out of breath guy to tell me about being harder on the puck and getting pucks in deep and any other hockey cliché he can muster in 30 seconds? Just throw it back to the studio or to a commercial break. Again, who are these interviews for?
15) Fans pick everyone at the All-Star Game. We cut Colin Campbell completely out of the process (which is a good starting point for anything you do that's hockey-related) and let fans vote in any player they want. An All-Star Game full of goons? Sure. If we actually let fans pick all the players, what's the most likely outcome? That the entire Chicago Blackhawks team gets voted to the game, right? And is there anything the NHL loves more than a Blackhawks game? So we get a Blackhawks vs. Pacific game? This idea makes everyone happy.
16) Unrestricted free agency begins two years after your entry-level deal expires. As of now, 25 is pretty much the age when players can explore free agency but that number is almost always higher because teams buy UFA years and that player winds up getting there when he's 29 and on the downside of his career. I'm trying to get players to market when they are 23, which I'm sure is still a flawed idea but I'd like to care about July 1 again and I'm sure other fans would, too.
17) One interconference game between teams per season. Do the Jets really need to play the Panthers twice? Who is dying for a home-and-home between the Islanders and Flames? The current rule exists so you can see the stars in your building once a year, but come on, it's 2018. It's not 1988 when Wayne Gretzky was someone you saw for eight seconds on SportsCenter every third night; it's 2018, when you can watch every Connor McDavid shift and postgame interview on your phone.
Take those excess dates and use them for games within your conference or division. McDavid comes to your building once every two years. That should be enough. By 2025, you'll be able to buy an app that allows you inside McDavid's head a la Being John Malkovich, so let's bag this twice yearly Oilers-Lightning matchup and let those teams play rivals one more time instead.
18) Mandatory Olympics. We are going to the Olympics every four years whether they are in Vancouver or on the surface of Jupiter.
19) World Cup in years between Olympics. And then we play our silly cash grab with Team North America and Team Europe so we have a best-on-best tournament every two years. The games are always in North America. Sorry, rest of the world.
20) Get rid of the trapezoid. Martin Brodeur retired nearly three years ago. We don't need it anymore. If anything, allowing goaltenders to play more pucks would result in more goals because most goaltenders play the puck like they've never seen a puck in their lives. I want more goals with the goalie behind the net with his arms in the air or with him on his back.
Time for another interlude to hear from fans:
We gave Atlanta two cracks at the NHL and it didn't work out. Sometimes things aren't meant to be. Denied.
Yes. I will hire a Senior Vice President of Ball Sitting Prevention. Motion passes.
Unpaid labor for five years? Please wait here while security escorts you from the building. Denied.
Oh look it's more great stuff from me:
21) You can't ice the puck while shorthanded. I'm on the fence about this because teams will just ice the puck and create more whistles, but it has to generate more power-play goals so let's do it.
22) Power plays at the start of a period begin in the offensive zone. Let's say you draw a penalty with six seconds to go. Those six seconds are almost useless. Yeah, you can score off a draw but it's hard. Then the next period starts and the faceoff is at center ice. If you win the draw, you need to circle back, organize your rush, and if everything goes perfectly when you set up, you've lost 30 seconds of 5-on-4 time due to circumstances beyond your control.
Drop the puck in the offensive zone, this way if you win the draw clean, you're set up and have close to a full power play.
23) Ban the shootout. Earlier, when I said one point for a shootout win or loss, I was lying, because the shootout has been abolished and we now play 3-on-3 until someone scores. Personally, I think 3-on-3 is as dumb or dumber than shootouts, but you people seem to like it so let's compromise and play 3-on-3 until someone scores to avoid shootouts.
24) Overtime goes until someone scores. Yeah, like it says. If you can play 5-on-5 in the playoffs until 1 AM, you can play beyond five minutes at 3-on-3 in the regular season.
25) 3-on-3 wins are separated from regulation wins in tiebreaker. I quietly seethe when I see that the current tiebreaker lumps regulation and overtime wins together when overtime wins are just as stupid as shootout wins. But we don't have the shootout anymore so regulation wins are all we care about in this brave new world.
26) Organ music only during stoppages. I know this makes me seem old but they've been playing popular music during stoppages since I was a kid and enough already. Exceptions include playing "Take On Me" because it's cool when the crowd sings along and you can do a theme night if a famous musician just died. Play all their hits during every stoppage. Otherwise, organ.
27) High sticking penalties can be challenged. It doesn't happen a lot, but it happens enough where we need a safety net against guys being issued high sticking penalties when really the guy who got hit in the face was hit by his own teammate's stick. It's easily correctable and should never take more than a minute.
28) "Original Six" results in prison time. If anyone is caught using the term "Original Six" you will receive 25 years to life in a federal prison.
29) Any head contact results in an ejection and is reviewable. I understand that hockey is fast and you can wreck a guy's head with a "clean" hit that gets torso first, but aren't we at a point medically where we can say it's way too easy to destroy a brain? Do we really need a guy wiping out another guy with a "clean" open-ice hit that renders him unconscious?
The point of a check is to separate the other guy from the puck so you can take it. "Clean" hits involving the head almost always result in the receiver of the hit needing medical attention, which stops the game and defeats the purpose of the hit. There's nothing wrong with slowing the game in the context of these hits, which will all be reviewed so no one is ejected for the wrong reasons.
There's no reason to condone any head hits.
After that, let''s go to the phones one last time:
So two guys to the box for roughing and we play 4-on-4? Done. Motion passes.
This goes without saying. Motion passes with ease.
Yes, but the independent party will be me, dispensing justice free from the CBA, NHLPA or owners. I am judge, jury, and executioner. When I take over the league on Tuesday, Zac Rinaldo is out of the league by Friday. Motion passes.
Now let's wrap it up:
30) You can kick pucks for goals. If you think this is dangerous but are still steaming over me minimizing hitting in the previous rule change, take a deep breath and realize this rule is way less dangerous than mashing a guy in the head. People seem to think that if kicking is allowed it's going to result in sliced tendons, but the opportunities to kick pucks are so few and far between. Guys aren't digging in a goalies pads with their skates.
Also, one fewer thing we have to review.
31) The trade deadline is one week before the end of the regular season. You lose your star center with four games to go? Well, guess what! In my league, you still have time to trade for another one before the playoffs begin.
32) Hand passes are legal everywhere. What percentage of hand pass whistles are for actual hand passes? Most of them are just accidental deflections and redirections with the glove that happen to go to a teammate in the neutral zone. These whistles are also flow killers. I understand we have to get to commercial breaks three times per period so if we adopt all my rules we can go to commercial after goals when necessary.
33) All broadcasts need a shot total graphic on the screen at all times. I used to hate it but now I can't live without it. If I turn on a game and it's 0-0 at the 10-minute mark of the first period, seeing the shots are 8-1 tells me something about the game.
34) Linesmen can call penalties. You know what linesmen have? Eyes. You know what else? Whistles. You know what else besides that? Arms that can be raised into the air. Linesmen are basically the neighborhood kids that pretend they didn't see a crime because they don't want to be rats. If you see something, say something.
35) No more Lady Byng Trophy. Jesus, who cares? Gentlemanly play? You won't find a dumber award nobody in the world cares about than this one. "Here you go, I found a guy with a lot of points and very few penalty minutes and this is your trophy for that random collection of attributes." Let's melt it down and use it to add another level to the Stanley Cup.
36) NBC can't broadcast games anymore. We gave it a try. Time to find someone else willing to air this sport in America. Doesn't matter who. Split the package between Lifetime and TruTV. Stream games on Pornhub. I do not give a shit.
37) NHL.com’s stats page is overhauled. Sure, fixing the stats page will take 10-20 years but I will have the world's best minds on it for as long as it takes.
38) Every team needs one person wearing a 69 jersey. Someone on the roster needs this. It will boost jersey sales league-wide by about 69 percent.
39) Radar guns. The speed of every pitch in a baseball game is posted on a scoreboard, so why can't NHL arenas do it for slap shots? It's weird that we don't know how hard an Alex Ovechkin bomb is. It would be cool to look up at the scoreboard and see that PK Subban blast was 98 mph. The NHL shouldn't be behind MLB in anything.
40) You can't put the goalie back on the ice after an icing. Ever notice that when you ice the puck, you can't change personnel, but if you do it with the goalie pulled for an extra attacker, you can put the goalie back out there? That bullshit ends under my watch.
41) Delay of game penalties for goalies freezing the puck outside the crease. Sometimes a goalie will be above the crease and he'll make a save that sticks in his pads. Fine. Can't penalize that. But what about when goalies come out of the crease to catch a high dump-in to avoid the short hop? That's a penalty! Why do we allow that? I hate it and it's out.
42) Puck over glass is no longer a penalty. I love power plays and goals as much as anyone, but the punishment does not fit the crime. Treat it like an icing. The offending team can't change players and the face-off is in the offensive zone.
But besides that, I wouldn't change anything.
This article originally appeared on VICE Sports CA.
How to Fix the NHL, a League That's Broken published first on https://footballhighlightseurope.tumblr.com/
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