#(IMMEDIATE EDIT BECAUSE I FORGOT A LINK OOPS)

[stealthnoodle]

Hyrule's Bravest Little Toaster: Let's Play Tears of the Kingdom

I am very good at game, no really I swear

All my underground fumblings led to unlocking upgrades for my Purah Pad and life is so much better now. Sensor! Sensor+! Hero's Path! Game, don't challenge me to log more than 256 hours, I WILL DO IT

I might log that many in the underground alone at this rate lol

Look, A/B/O isn't even my jam, but these mushrooms have big throbbing knots and I'm not afraid to say so:

I found an place to Ascend that popped me right into the Travel Medallion tower I was vaguely headed for. What a lovely coincidence!

Greetings, my good fellows! Lovely day to pop up through the floor of a building, isn't it? I do so hope I'm not intruding, but could I trouble you for a spot of tea or—oh, I see, there's something you'd like to show me outside. Is it more sharp objects? I never tire of those, my good chaps!

As ever, I fight with honor:

As long as I'm above ground I might as well poke around Akkala for a bit

This trial turned out to be jenga, not a toxic beauty standard coming for my body hair, phew:

HOUSE OF BONES, HOUSE OF BONES

I solved bones with more bomb arrows and bones birthed MY BIG SON:

My other big son jump scared me when I gently alighted upon a ledge:

Fine, fine, we'll do your plot shit now, little man.

I just magically glued a minecart to a sword. Am I TOO powerful and attractive???

Whatever's running around in Zelda's body just made a three-headed dragon erupt out of Death Mountain to avoid having a conversation. Honestly? Good for her. Whomst among us, etc.

My Goron pal jumped down the hole in the crater and I immediately followed, because I will jump into any hole that presents itself to me. I'm doing my best Bane riffs on "You merely adopted the hole; I was born in it, molded by it" when suddenly oops I'm on fire

I refuse to dress for anything but fashion so I sure hope these elixirs keep me alive!

[Ron Howard voice] They did not.

I have also lost track of my big son (non-sword edition) so eh, I'll come back later

Undergroundundergroundunderground

Time to wander the surface world and solve more problems heroically:

• If the devs didn't expect me to stand here for upwards of five minutes while my gadgets slowly whittle away the health of the constructs, they were sorely mistaken. I could easily spend twice as long just thinking, huh, I've had the mushroom fashion hat for so long that I forgot Link's hair isn't naturally a sleek pink bob.

#stealthnoodle plays loz: tears of the kingdom #tears of the kingdom #totk spoilers #video #you want me to do combat properly? absolutely not #i have a system #and that system is bomb arrows #and sometimes hand-thrown bombs #and sometimes setting a fire and running away #the point is it's a good system #my sword fusion monstrosities are just this side of strictly decorative

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Yancy Headcanons - Life Before Prison

For this, the focus will be split in two: 18/20 and 21. In the former, he’s part of a gang and at the lowest part of his life. In the latter, he’s trying to redeem himself and clean up his act. 

Since the latter section is quite long, I’ve put it under a read-more!

Warnings now for mentions of an unhappy family life, alcohol, smoking, and violence. All of these are glossed over, but none go into proper detail!

18 - 20 - The Gang Years

After years of being told by his father that the greaser lifestyle is associated with crime despite this being little more than a movie stereotype, Yancy did indeed join a gang out of spite. In his head, he was going to do wrong no matter what he did, so why not make it official?

He had been involved in petty crime before this (usually fights), but it was at this point where his criminal record became quite full. He’s in and out of jail a good few times, but he’s had more narrow escapes than he cares to admit. It includes fights, kidnapping, possession of illegal weapons (such as knives beyond the permitted length and certain guns), and gang activity.

The gang taught him how to fight and how to obtain weapons he can legally carry. He began drinking heavier - even obtaining a fake ID to get into bars with other gang members - and took up smoking. 

Arguments with his parents (especially his father) became more frequent. Yancy would goad them, asking why they didn't kick him out if they were so disappointed in him. They refused to fall for it. It’s important to note that while Yancy’s parents weren’t the best at handling him, they were good parents. They still loved their son, and knew that if he left home he would be dead within the year. Even so, no attempt to find middle ground was made. The bridge had been burned.

He’d regularly have bruises on his knuckles from fights and punching walls in frustration. It was a miracle his nose wasn’t broken from the amount of fights he’d land in because of his ratty behaviour. He constantly felt like everyone was against him, something emphasised by his belief that anyone he got close to would abandon him in time. This was something that happened to him several times, and cemented the idea that no one really cared about him.

He obtained his first tattoo at twenty - the abstract boxes on his left arm. You can read about the unusual circumstances of that tattoo here. (His second tattoos are the words ‘Dark’ and ‘Mark’ written on his fingers. While an unpolished fighter, he has a very good punch. The ‘dark mark’ would represent the almighty bruises he’d leave on someone after a fight.

--

21 - The Redemption Year

Yancy had a ‘wake up call’ through a dream. He was alone in a dark room. As he turned to find a way out, he found himself face to face with a man in a dark red suit and holding a cane. The man eyed him up and down before tutting softly.

“Is this what you’ve become?” the stranger sighed. “Didn’t think you would actually let others decide your worth for you.” This riled Yancy, who sharply asked what the stranger was talking about. The man in red chuckled and used the cane to point at Yancy, “Why, I’m talking about you! Is this really where you want to be in life? A washed up nobody who is worth less than the dirt on the bottom of my shoe? How can you possibly look at yourself in the mirror?” 

The mocking only angered Yancy enough to snap at the stranger, questioning why he should even care about someone like Yancy. The stranger was able to turn this on its head with ease. “Simple. I care because you clearly don’t. So what if the world thinks you’re garbage? Keep this up, and you’re only going to let yourself. Look where you’ve ended up after spending your life basing your worth on whether your parents like you. What about you? What do you wanna do, and why are you denying yourself the chance to do just that?” He paused just long enough to watch the penny drop in Yancy’s mind. “If there’s something you want to do, then go chase that dream. Trust me, you’ll regret it when you’re dead. But if your dream is to be a pathetic mess, then keep it up!” -

The dream worked like magic. Yancy managed to pull himself out of the gang after surviving the ‘trial of shame’ - a knife slice to the neck. This gash was a brand to other gang members that Yancy was a disgrace, and it was fine to leave him in the dirt if anything happened to him. The gash healed to leave a scar on the left side of his neck (it would later be partially covered by a tattoo of Tiny’s Box Tim in Happy Trails). A small switchblade would constantly be on his person in case someone from the old gang did try and jump him.

After some pleading, he managed to convince the mechanic he had previously worked with to take him back. The mechanic promised to help Yancy finish his apprenticeship and get his qualification, on the condition that Yancy promised to keep out of trouble and not get arrested once during the remainder of the apprenticeship.

In the six months that followed, Yancy quit drinking and cut the cigarettes to one pack a week (and ultimately to only smoking when he’s stressed). He kept out of trouble, even going as far as taking extra shifts to try and make up for lost time.

This is where he takes up boxing in an attempt to channel his frustrations and use pent-up energy in a more positive light. Dancing is also taken back up unofficially. While he is still an emotional mess, he has more grounding than he’s had in years.

The hard work pays off, and he passed his final assessments to receive the cert that shows he can be hired as a qualified mechanic. While the ‘graduation’ isn’t a formal ceremony, there is excitement as he returns to the assessment centre to receive it.

Unfortunately for Yancy, his bike is hit by an SUV that broke a red light. While he was mostly unharmed, his bike was destroyed and a large dent was left in the SUV. Despite witnesses being present to back him up in A&E, his parents were quick to believe it was Yancy’s fault.

There was a massive argument after they returned home. The thrill of getting his qualification was glossed over in favour of the family attempting to pay bills they couldn’t afford (despite none of this actually being Yancy’s fault)

That was the night Yancy killed both his parents… But that’s a story for another time.

#writersofmark #yancy #ahwm yancy #yancyiplier #headcanon #muse headcanons #dramatic prisoner (Yancy) #(let's be honest. This is just me collecting my ideas together. :D ) #(and yes; he did kill his parents just when things were looking up for him) #(IMMEDIATE EDIT BECAUSE I FORGOT A LINK OOPS) #yancyheadcanon

[torsamors]

#ShowYourProcess

From planning to posting, share your process for making creative content!

To continue supporting content makers, this tag game is meant to show the entire process of making creative content: this can be for any creation. RULES — When your work is tagged, show the process of its creation from planning to posting, then tag 5 4 people with a specific link to one of their creative works you’d like to see the process of. Use the tag #showyourprocess so we can find yours!

Thank you @ahomeboylives Kaitlynn for tagging me to talk about this poem <3 (you tagged me forever ago and ive had this sitting in my drafts and lowkey forgot about it oops)

1. Planning/Inspiration

So with poems for me I either start them one of two ways—either I sit down with the intent to write about a theme or person OR a snippet pops into my head and I write about that. This poem was a combination of that actually djabsj. I think I read a post about Jiang Cheng and it talked about the tragedy of his character and how he’s actually very loving at his core and this line popped into my head [ I would have somewhere to put all / this anger, somewhere to put all / this love.]

2. Writing

Next for this poem, I sat down and tried to write around this particular line. I played with it a few ways but ultimately decided I liked it as a closing line, so the challenge for me was trying to create a poem that lead up to that. I usually write poems in my notes app or if I have access to my computer, I write them in a folder in my googledocs. I kind of just let myself write whatever I want without too much care. If I think too much I tend get stumped. My thought process is I can write a bunch of shit and take the best lines out and really work with them when I come back and edit it later.

3. Editing

So here’s the original poem:

It really depends on when I get around to editing a poem. I have fragments from literally 2016 that I still haven’t edited. Sometimes I just wait until I’m bored or until something calls to me or if I feel inspired etc. This poem I think I edited a day or two after I wrote it? Editing for me really depends on how I’m feeling bdkahskajs I just Go With My Gut.

For this poem I immediately knew I didn’t like having it as a block quote and there were parts where I didn’t like the flow. I decided to break up the text into stanzas. For this I wanted to start each one with the line ‘in a kinder world.’ But while I was editing it I was also thinking about how Love and Hate can often toe the same line.

Also specifically, Jiang Cheng’s character is so complex especially regarding his love and how its often misconstrued for hatred/anger. Or how, especially with siblings, you can love them but also be so angry with them at the same time. And that feeling can be so confusing and weird! Idk I feel a LOT about Jiang Cheng and his relationship with his siblings and so I broke up the pattern I established with the stanzas with the line (Is this burning love? Is it actually anger? //Is it both?). I also put this in parentheses because I wanted it to feel like a quiet voice in the character’s head. Almost like they don’t want to admit that they are confused or that they don’t want to admit that their love and anger are so jumbled up inside of them. It’s a quiet thought that they don’t want to confront yet.

4. Posting

Finally when I feel good about the poem (or I’m sick of looking at it lol) I screenshot it on my computer and post it to my poetry blog @poetryoutloud and post a transcript of it under the photo so others can read it as well :)!

BONUS: the draft of the poem vs what i ended up posting

Thanks for tagging me!!! Really so many of my mutuals are talented so if any of you want to show your process please use this to do so and please tag me!!

#no id #thanks kaitlynn again ily<3 #long post #**

[likeorbits]

thanks for tagging me @azrielrose ♥ been having a real bad brain day its nice to know you’re thinkin about me

Name: ashton

Star Sign: gemini

Height: 5′2″... ish. i think there’s some change in there but i’m not quite 5′3″  

Sexuality: pan because it’s the closest i can get to “honestly who the fuck knows”

Lock Screen: this beautiful art of my love credence ♥ (edit: added the link i fucking forgot lmfao)

Ever had a crush on a teacher: yep two of them. my high school US history teacher was super young, like 26 maybe when he was teaching my class, and he was goofy and also the baseball coach and he believed so much in conspiracy theories to the point where he made us write an essay making up and then backing our own conspiracy theories

and then my english 102 professor, he was very hot and very jewish and introduced himself by giving us a link to a fucking skateboarding compilation video of himself look i just dont have a lot to say for myself. he told a bunch of really bad jokes and i was able to finish all of them because i too love a bad joke

Where do you see yourself in ten years?: hopefully in the forge with sweat dripping and glistening off my amazing and beautiful muscled arms and any boy who happens to be around me when i flex starts crying

If you could go anywhere where would you go? sweden. i just have some kinda Thing drawing me there, i think. i make friends so easily with swedes too like i just love y’all’s vibe, sweden. adopt me.

Coolest Halloween Costume: i dunno about coolest, but i did some pretty nice ones just because my mom is a pretty good seamstress. i think my favorite when i was a kid was dark!willow (y’know, when [redacted] [redacted] and she went crazy and like. veiny in her grief idfk)

Favourite 90s tv show?: buffy the vampire slayer, maybe obvious by my last answer lmfao

Last Kiss: ben :c i miss him so much, he was my closest friend in arizona, he understood me so so well and just has the most gentle trustworthy vibe and god i love him!! i love him! 

Have you ever been stood up? nope!

Have you ever been to Las Vegas: lmao nah

Favourite pair of shoes: i have a pair of chunky heeled mary jane pumps with like, a sort of vintage floral pattern god they’re so cute they’re my evie shoes

Favourite fruit: blackberries or huckleberries (if you’ve never had huckleberries you HAVE to come to the inland northwest and stuff your fucking gob with them they are indescribably delicious)

Favourite Book: probably obvious, we need to talk about kevin (at least currently)

Stupidest Thing You’ve Ever Done: i’ve done A LOT OF STUPID SHIT IN MY LIFE WHERE DO I FUCKING START

the story i always like to tell to just. showcase how fucking stupid i am is the time that i got locked out of garwood elementary at 12 years old during a dance recital. (i’m typing really fast now bc my brother told me to get on wow to do a dungeon FUCK) so i was.... idk a dumb kid! with adhd! who can’t sit still and wait in a room for 3-4 hours to do like three two-minute dances and then go home like i’m fucking bored yo!!! so i always wanted to explore whatever venue we were in and normally we did the community college in coeur d’alene and there’s lots of places to go in their arts/theatre building like elevators and shit like i don’t know. but garwood was not my home elementary school and i was also unaware that all the fucking doors were locked so i and two friends that i suckered into coming with me went out onto the playground and immediately got locked outside for the next like.... 45 minutes? two hours? i dont have any idea but nobody could find us until the recital was over and the studio owner was so. fucking worried lmfao bc i took her daughter with me (oops) but my mom was just like ‘what the fuck, [redacted]’

so that’s my story i’m a fucking dumbass

tagging: @nonmortem-somnifratrem, @jimmiestoorustled, @questionboxjuliet if any of y’all feel like it idk lmao

#bio post #tag meme

[breeeliss]

[Miraculous Ladybug]: Think Alike

oh shit! update! whaaaaaaat?

so unfortunate side effect of having multiple multi-chapters is that you run the risk of forgetting about them......which admittedly happened with this one.....oops.....

so shoutout to @ladyserendipitous and others from the mlfanfiction server who reminded me that i had this, which encouraged me to update it (good thing too bc i forgot how much i loved this idea). 

--

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3]

Link to Archive of Our Own: [AO3]

--

Title: Think Alike

Summary: Adrien never really considered himself an artist per se. He only ever considered what he did a hobby, something that he did for joy and not for obligation. But Marinette held his prints up to the light, smiled up at the glossy photos he’d spent hours shooting and editing, and looked at them like they were practically perfect. And how could Adrien not let his chest swell up at the sight of her pride?

Photographer!Adrien

Chapter 4: Shopping

“So wait, just to review. Why is this not a date again?”

Marinette threw her head back and whined. “It’s not a date because it’s not a date!” she repeated. “I didn’t ask him out, I invited him to go shopping with me because he was asking me questions about designing. That’s it!”

“Yes, but you also have a crush on him and you invited him to do an activity with just the two of you. I dunno, babe, that sounds like a date to me.”

Marinette glared at her. “By that definition, you asking Nino to help you babysit your sisters today is also a date. Boom. Deflected. Leave me alone.”

Alya rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Um, no. Not deflected. Do not twist this on me, I asked you first.”

“And I answered already!” Marinette complained.

Alya crossed her arms and smirked. “Okay no. You’re over here like ‘oh I’m not trying to get with him, I’m just helping him out like a good friend.’ Meanwhile you conveniently had to pick up your fabric orders today and you conveniently needed Adrien’s help to do it. Which yeah, ok, like this isn’t you trying to spend more alone time with him. And then, let’s please acknowledge that this happened all because you were totally starstruck after your darling sunshine prince sat with you and started showing you his camera.”

“It wasn’t a lie! Sure I was going to pick it up tomorrow, but I really do have a fabric order there waiting for me!”

“You are whipped as hell, Marinette.”

“You’re making me sound like a total creep,” Marinette complained. “Look, I honestly sat next to him because I wanted to compliment him on the shoot and see how it was going. That was totally my intention from the start. Completely platonic and friendly support.”

“Ah yes,” Alya said, rubbing her hands. “But then the plot thickens!”

Marinette winced. “And I actually wanted to know about how his camera worked because it seemed interesting! I just wanted to learn more, you know?”

Alya nodded and stroked her chin. “Yes, yes. Getting closer to the source of all this mess.”

“But he looked so cute explaining everything Alya,” Marinette admitted. “Like totally adorable. He was so thrilled and then he started asking me about my designing, and then I remembered how impressed he was with me when I showed him my ideas, and fine I’m a glutton, I’ll admit it! I wanted to spend more time with him because it’s been fun hanging out with him and talking about his photography and my designing. So I invited him to shop with me today.” Marinette pointed a finger in Alya’s face. “As friends! No ulterior motives. Not a date.”

Alya scoffed. “Don’t you even try that, girl. You are full of unadulterated crap. You are totally trying to hit on this boy right now.”

“I am not!”

“Oh yes you are!” Alya teased. She threw her arm dramatically over her forehead. “You find out he’s just as big an art freak as you are, and all of a sudden you’re trying to lure him into your home so you can lay across your sewing machine and let him ravage you!”

“You are embarrassingly dramatic. Seriously. Also, can we not pick out verbs that make me sound like the heroine of a romance novel?”

Alya shrugged. “Make fun of me all you want, but you’re pining after him like crazy. And because I care about your happiness, I will support your impressively sneaky attempts to squeeze in time with him. As always, I demand a full report on my desk by tomorrow morning.”

Marinette rolled her eyes and decided to relent the point. “Sir, yes, sir.”

“Detailed!” she commanded. “No corners cut! Thorough, my dear. Absolutely thorough.”

“I’ll write you a dissertation if you want, don’t worry. I’ll keep you updated.”

“Perfect,” Alya grinned. “It’s important I keep track of my investments.”

Marinette raised a brow. “...yeah, I’m ignoring you.”

Alya danced behind Marinette and planted her hands firmly on her shoulders, marching her at a quicker pace to the front doors of the school. “I’m getting good vibes from this,” Alya explained. “Something tells me this is the beginning of something grand.” She looked past Marinette’s shoulder and jumped excitedly. “Ah, there he is! Ready and waiting for you!”

They were at the top of the stairs outside and Marinette could see Adrien leaning into the window of one of the cars that usually came to pick him up at the end of the day, talking to the driver in the front seat. Alya grinned and muttered in Marinette’s ear. “Nino told me he was spending all of last class texting his father’s assistant and convincing her to let him stay out longer after school. Just for you~!”

Marinette grabbed Alya’s hands and gently pried them off of her shoulders. “Will you stop hovering? Aren’t you supposed to be helping Nino with his DJ equipment? He’s probably upstairs waiting for you.”

“Trying to get rid of me, eh?” Alya laughed. “I get it, that’s cool. Don’t want me to kill your groove.” She kissed both of Marinette’s cheeks. “Knock him dead, cutie, okay?”

Marinette smiled and pushed Alya back inside the building. “Will you go!?” She stuck her tongue at Alya as she watched her skip back down the hallway, grabbing her stomach and cackling at her own antics. Marinette needed to remember to give Alya a hard time later tonight when she asked how babysitting with Nino went. As much as the two of them liked to tease her about Adrien, they sure didn’t realize just how downright chummy the two of them looked in comparison. She’d definitely have to get back at them later.

She took a deep breath, did a quick couple of hops in place to psych herself up, and skipped down the stairs just as Adrien was waving off his driver who’d pulled away from the school.

“Are you all set?” Marinette asked.

“Yup!” Adrien said. “Took a bit of wheedling with Nathalie to get away with it, but I am yours for the next hour.”

“Oh perfect,” Marinette smiled. “I promise I won’t be too long. It’s just picking up a couple of things and buying some stuff I’m running out of.”

“Ah don’t worry about it,” Adrien assured. “This should be fun! I just wear the clothes my father makes, so I don’t really know what happens behind the scenes so to speak. Besides, I wanna know what you’re going to be working on next.”

“You’ll figure it out quick,” she promised. “Feel up for a walk? I go to the shop about fifteen minutes away from here.”

“Of course, lead the way!”

Marinette’s parents financially supported her designing up to a point. It wasn’t too much trouble for her mother to pass down her old sewing machine, and back when clothing design only really consisted of remaking clothing she already had, buying basic sewing kits and small swatches of fabric from the crafts store was enough for Marinette to survive. But eventually, she wanted to make things from scratch. She needed to learn how to embroider. She needed dressforms for more complicated designs. She needed books for help and reference. And, most importantly, she needed three times the amount of fabric, thread, and supplies than she’d ever needed back when she was just adding decals to her skirts and shirts.

As encouraging as her parents were, Marinette understood that it was far too much to expect them to go out and buy whatever she needed. It wasn’t exactly feasible to sacrifice lease payments in favor of bolts of fabric because Marinette wanted to try her hand at button downs that weekend. So Marinette asked to start working on the registers at the bakery in exchange for a small allowance, and learned how to be smart about how to get everything she needed for as cheap as possible.

The shop that she always went to wasn’t exactly high-end, but it was certainly affordable considering how well-stocked they were in comparison. Marinette even figured out to take advantage of all of their online-only sales and ask for large orders in advance instead of shopping in the store real time. Plus Marinette shopped there so often that the owner always liked to shave off a few euros from her purchases in order to give her a break, especially when Marinette left the store with literal handfuls of supplies. It wasn’t the type of place where she could get huge bolts of expensive chiffon and silk, as riveting as the thought was. But for a girl on a budget, Marinette thought she pretty much hit the gold mine.

She was sort of afraid of what Adrien would think of such a place. After all, she was sure his father only ever needed to dial a number in order for him to get unlimited access to some of the highest quality fabrics in the world. A little storefront like this probably wasn’t much. But the moment they walked through the doors, Adrien’s eyes immediately started darting everywhere they could, soaking up whatever he saw. “Woah! I’ve never been inside a fabric shop before!”

“Never?” Marinette asked.

“No way!” Adrien exclaimed. He immediately started moving down one of the aisles and running his hands along the shelves filled with bolts of all sorts of colorful fabrics made of dozens of different material. He started to look through a small case filled with rolls of fabric and marvelled at the size of them. “Gosh, I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much fabric on one place.”

“Yeah, it’s got a lot to choose from,” she grinned. “It’s a bit pricy to buy them in bulk like this, but at least that means you’re pretty well stocked for a while before you have to start shopping again.”

Marinette couldn’t help but laugh when she saw how amazed he was at the entire wall devoted to yarn and wool. “Do you ever buy this stuff?” he asked.

“Occasionally,” she said. “Especially if I’m making things like scarves, hats, and leg warmers, it’s cheaper to just crochet it myself. I have to come back another time to get some knitting needles though. I just bought the books and I want to learn over the summer too.”

“God, how do you choose? There’s so much here, I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“Come in knowing exactly what you want,” Marinette smirked. “Trust me, I know from experience. You walk in here without a clue what you want, and you either don’t buy anything or want to buy everything.”

“Is it just fabric and yarn that they sell? What else is here?” Adrien asked.

She shrugged. “Well, the back has more of what you would find in a craft store. So buttons, zippers, embroidery hoops, needles, stabilizers, smaller swatches of fabric, ribbons….I’m pretty sure they have a small section where you can get beads.”

Adrien twisted around and started walking backwards, occasionally bending over to steal glances at the lower shelves. “My father used to tell me how much he loved going to shops like this when he started out designing. I mean, it was years ago, but they look just like he described. Just walls and walls of almost anything you could ever want. This is awesome!”

“Yeah, I was pretty shocked my first time in here too,” she agreed. “I mean, it’s obviously not an endless treasure trove, but it’s a pretty decent place if you only have a little to spend.”

Adrien was standing on his toes and reading the labels of the highest shelves he could reach, laughing at himself all the while. “I’m so sorry, I’m supposed to be helping you shop.”

Marinette shook her head. “Ah, don’t worry about it. Roam around all you want. I might even find a couple of things for myself that I might need.”

He peeked around the aisle and let out a small gasp. “Oh my god there are like ten more shelves of fabric back here! And they’re all patterns!”

Marinette reached into her pocket for her wallet. “Have fun! I’ll be at the register up front if you wanna help me carry some stuff.”

“I’ll be two minutes I swear.”

Marinette wound up getting 6 meters of a black cotton/poly blend, 5 meters of dark blue jersey knit, a meter’s worth of four different colors of cotton, and a bundle of golden lace. One of the cashiers who had personally handled plenty of Marinette’s orders in the past didn’t even bat a lash when she gave her a 15 euro discount, asking only for pictures of all the finished products in exchange. It all wound up cheaper than she thought it would be, and she started to eye the back of the store where all the craft supplies were. Adrien finally came back up to the counter and started to help the cashier put Marinette’s orders into bags.

“Huh,” Adrien hummed. “Not sure what this stuff is for, but didn’t you have a dress with lace on it that you showed me?”

“Mmhm,” Marinette nodded. “You’re getting warm. Oh, come. I wanna grab a couple of things real quick from the back.”

Adrien followed behind her and rubbed the black fabric in between his fingers. “Uhhhh….wait! Your Eiffel Tower dress is black, right?”

Marinette grinned and Adrien’s eyes widened in excitement. “You’re gonna try for that dress first?”

“That’s the plan,” she confirmed. “I’m dreading it a little bit because of all the embroidery work that has to go into it, but I figured I’d do the more complicated thing first.”

“What’s the rest of this stuff for?”

“The lace is for the collar of the dress. The jersey knit is for this other dress I’m making. Nothing crazy, just something for some of the cooler summer days. And the cotton is for headbands! I ordered the hard plastic bands online already, so now all I have to do is put the fabric over it. I had a couple of spare pattern swatches at home that I was going to use, but I figured a couple more colors wouldn’t hurt.”

“Wow,” Adrien breathed out. “Sounds like a lot to do.”

“You underestimate my ability to perform killer all nighters,” she joked.

“I thought Alya was kidding about that.”

“I pride myself on doing my best to get eight hours of sleep every night during the school year. But during breaks? All bets are off.”

Adrien frowned. “I’m telling her you said that.”

“I have things to get done!”

“You have to sleep Marinette!”

“Oh there’s plenty of time for that afterwards,” she insisted. Adrien didn’t look pleased, but she laughed at his expression anyway and set her schoolbag down by her feet when they turned into one of the aisles at the back of the shop. “For now, if I’m really going to crack down on this embroidery, I need to stock up on a couple of things.”

Adrien set down his own bag and all of Marinette’s purchases as he scanned the shelves. “What are we looking for?”

“A new embroidery hoop. Some stabilizers. Carbon paper. Thread. Temporary adhesive. And I think that’s it.”

Adrien blinked. “Uh….well, the thread I get. What’s the other stuff for?”

Marinette let her hand hover over one of the rows of items before she plucked out an embroidery hoop from the shelves are started to scrutinize the size. “All things I need to hand embroider the dress. The hoop I have at home is too small for this dress and I’m out of everything else I need. I have some extra money left over so I figured I’d stock up.”

He hummed as he stood on his toes and looked at the row of stabilizers above his head. “What does all this stuff do? Can you explain it to me?”

“I mean, I don’t mind, but it can get a little confusing.”

“I’m sure I can keep up if I try,” he grinned. “I don’t know any of this stuff, so it’s really interesting.” He pointed to the hoop in Marinette’s hands. “So what’s that for?”

“An embroidery hoop,” she explained. “So when you’re doing embroidery, you want to make sure you’re keeping the fabric taut so that your stitches won’t look scrunched up or over stretched. So you open up the frame, slip the fabric inside, tighten it, and them you can start sewing.”

Adrien frowned and took the hoop from her and turned it over in his hands. “Hm, makes sense. There was some of that stabilizer stuff on that top shelf up there? You need that, right?”

“Yup,” Marinette said. She was reaching upwards to try to read the labels on the row of stabilizers Adrien had been looking at earlier. “Oh, could you do me a favor and grab that pack over there? Should say medium-weight cutaway stabilizers. Can’t reach it.”

“Uhhh, how long?”

“Ten meters ought to be fine.”

Adrien had to prop his foot up on the bottom shelf to reach the roll before he carefully handed it back down to her. “So stabilizers are…?”

“Well, I want the fabric taut, but I also don’t want the fabric to be damaged by the stitching I’m doing. So the stabilizer will keep that from happening. Because this is knit, stretchy fabric, the stabilizer is also gonna give the design some extra support. You put it on the back of the surface you’re embroidering, fit it into your hoop, and start.”

“So hoop keeps it taut, and stabilizers keep it from becoming damaged and offer support. Right?”

“Exactly!” Marinette smiled. She crouched down on the bottom shelf and plucked up a can of adhesive spray. “This is just to adhere it to the fabric when you’re ready to embroider.”

“So what does cutaway mean?” Adrien asked. “Or I guess what’s the difference between that and the others? There was a tear away up there somewhere.”

“Just depends on the fabric you’re using,” she told him. “So tear aways are better for tightly woven fabrics like cotton. When you’re done with your design, you just tear away the stabilizer from the back and you’re left with your design. Easy. Cutaways are better for fabrics that stretch more, like the one I just bought. So instead of tearing away the whole thing, you cut off the excess and leave the stabilizer on the back of the design. Offers more stability.”

Adrien scratched the back of his head. “I think that makes sense. Are there any others?”

“There are wash aways. You use that for really delicate fabrics, and they dissolve in water. Heat aways exist too, but I’ve never used them.”

Adrien whistled. “That’s so much to keep track of. Now I get what you mean about all this being complicated….”

“It’s a lot of trial and error,” Marinette said. “And looking up on the Internet which things to use for what. Good thing is that sometimes you can find handy charts online that tell you what materials to use for which fabrics. As you get more used to it, you just sort of know.”

He watched her as she looked through the different types of embroidery thread and picked out a couple of golden ones. “I get what you mean. I was pretty much using Google and YouTube videos when I was still figuring out some of the weirder settings on my camera.”

Marinette giggled. “Yeah, tell me about it. You should see all of my browser bookmarks. Pretty sure it’s all references for designing, and I have dozens of them.” She bit on her lip and turned to the shelves behind them. “Do you see any carbon paper?”

“What’s that for?”

“Transfer outlines of the designs to the fabric. So that I know where to sew and can keep my stitches straight.”

Adrien pointed at one of the shelves to Marinette’s left. “Is it that weird black looking paper?”

Marinette nodded and took the first pack she saw. “Yup, that’s the one. Oh, and they’re so cheap! Perfect! I think I might actually be under budget.”

“With all of this stuff!?”

Marinette snorted. “Oh please, this is nothing. You should see the days where I come and pick up bolts of fabric and have to refill my sewing kits.”

“And I was over here complaining about buying photo paper the other day….”

She picked up her backpack from the floor and nudged him in the side. “Does buying photo paper not get complicated?”

“Printing photos does not involve stabilizers, carbon paper, and adhesive spray. Just a printer.”

“Oh come on, even I know you’re simplifying that. Aren’t there different types of photography paper you can use?”

“I mean, yeah, you can get paper to give you a glossy, matte, luster, or metallic finish, but that’s easy stuff.”

“ Easy stuff. ”

“You just stick the paper in the printer! At least I don’t have to set my photos on fire to get them to come out. Wait that’s what heat away stabilizers are, right?”

“Oh my God, no , that’s not what they are. You just iron them.”

“Heat implies fire.”

“No it doesn’t?”

“Well I didn’t know that! This stuff isn’t intuitive. You’re wicked smart so this all just comes naturally to you.”

“You’re impressed because my knowing not to set my clothes on fire comes naturally to me?”

“You know what I mean….”

They checked out all of Marinette’s purchases at the counter and started walking back to her house, delving into rather long and useless conversation about how stylish fireproof clothing could totally hit the markets with a splash and that Marinette could pioneer the movement — “Think about it,” Adrien joked. “No one will ever see it coming!” — which didn’t accomplish anything other than make Marinette forget to turn down the right block to their street and make her gut hurt from laughing so hard. For some reason, she really underestimated how distracting Adrien’s silliness could be. Though to be fair, it wasn’t as if she was a stranger to it — after starting to hang out with him more regularly over the past year, it was hard not to notice that Adrien got into pun competitions with himself when he was bored.

It wasn’t until she was dramatically retelling the story of the time she left her iron on the ironing board and caused a teeny tiny fire in her room that she realized they’d been walking and looping around random blocks for the past twenty minutes. Adrien was wiping tears from his eyes as Marinette looked around and noticed that her house was well behind them, but Marinette didn’t feel like pointing the fact out. If Adrien had already noticed, then it didn’t seem like he was in any rush to get her home. Marinette certainly didn’t mind spending the extra time with him, especially since he made it sound like he could afford to stay out longer.

She was trying not to think about the smug look Alya would give her once she told her all of this when Adrien asked out of the blue, “Can I ask you one more designing question? I just had a random thought….”

“If you bring up your fireworks rant one more time….”

“No, no, not that,” he assured. “Although, that was a pretty creative idea if I do say so myself.”

She smirked up at him as they walked. “Your question?”

“Right, so….I’ve walked through father’s company before. And one time I was taking a peek at where all the sample makers work, and I saw them embroidering with a sewing machine. So can’t you just embroider that way?”

“If they’re sample makers at Gabriel they probably have fancy machines that are specifically made for doing really complex embroideries. It’d be nice to have one of those, but I don’t have the money for it right now. I’m hoping to save up for it little by little as a graduation present to myself. Besides, it’s harder than it looks. You have to have a really steady hand.”

Adrien winced. “How much?”

“A few hundred euros,” Marinette sighed. “Can’t get one any time soon. But hey! Maybe I can get a summer job and save up paychecks to buy one for myself. It’s not like I need it or anything, but it’s a cool thing to aspire to.”

“Wow, you’re saving up for it yourself?” Adrien asked. “No help from parents?”

“Nah, I can’t expect them to drop money for something like that for me. They’re supportive of my designing and everything — they love seeing what I’m working on, Maman lets me use her old sewing machine, and Papa got me those dress forms on sale at a thrift store. But a fancy embroidery machine is different. If I decide to take my hobby seriously, I should bear the burden of funding it. But it’s alright! I’ll get there eventually.”

Adrien hummed and looked down at the bags pinching around his wrists. “You said you wanted to be a designer when you grow up. Are you going to….go to school for that and stuff?”

“That’s the plan,” she nodded. “Get a job, work in a company, maybe open my own line. It’s all a little unclear right now, but my parents always say it’s a matter of just doing what makes sense to me and feels right. I’ve got plenty of time to think about a career.”

“I sort of forget you can go to school for that stuff.”

Marinette frowned. “Didn’t your father start out as a designer?”

“Yeah, but he went to school for business,” Adrien explained. “The designing was just a hobby for him. He happened to be really good at it and combined the business and designing to make Gabriel. He takes pride in what he does as a designer, but he always says he’s a businessman first and a visionary second. He doesn’t just know what looks good. He knows how to make what looks good sell , and he knows how to create success. Hobbies don’t mean much to him unless you can benefit from it.” He laughed at himself, but it sounded strained against Marinette’s ears. “I didn’t even know that designing was a thing you could go to school for until a couple of years ago.”

Marinette bit her lip and tilted her head so she could peek underneath Adrien’s bowed head to see his face. “Photography is something you could go to school for. There are a lot of good art schools in Paris. Or you could even travel somewhere else. Maybe go to America. Whatever you wanted, really.”

Adrien snorted. “It really isn’t a matter of what I want.”

She wrinkled her forehead. “Your future should always be a matter of what you want. That’s why it’s yours.”

“I mean, that does make sense,” he said. “But I guess it’s just never felt that way.”

It was too bitter a statement to come from Adrien’s mouth, and the tone was discordant enough to make Marinette curl a hand into the crook of his elbow and stop their walking. “Is there something on your mind?”

He shook his head adamantly. “No! No, no, I’m sorry. I got a little off topic. It’s honestly nothing.”

“It doesn’t sound like nothing.”

Adrien knocked the shopping bag against his shins and hesitated for a long moment before he answered. “I dunno, I guess….I guess I’ve been thinking about something Nino told me today.”

A young woman roughly clipped shoulders with Marinette and she realized with a jolt that they probably needed a different place to talk instead of the middle of the sidewalk. There was a small plaza with tables, chairs, and benches in front of a cafe that Marinette liked to sketch at on the weekends. She tugged on Adrien’s elbow until she followed him up the block and pulled out seats for them both. He looked a little reluctant to sit, almost anticipating the fact that Marinette would surely question him, so she tried to smile as reassuringly as she could to comfort him. It was very easy for Adrien to draw into himself when his father came up, and it didn’t feel right to just let the sentiment hang.

Adrien sat in the chair, nervously bobbing one of his legs while Marinette visibly struggled to find the point she wanted to make. “What do you want to do when you get older?”

Adrien blinked, not expecting the question. “Sorry?”

“I want to design when I get older,” Marinette explained. “So, what do you want to do? When you graduate and when you become an adult. What do you see yourself doing?”

He shrugged helplessly. “I never thought that far ahead,” he admitted. “I guess modelling? Or maybe helping father run the company.”

“That sounds a lot like what your father wants you to be doing.”

“Well,” he began. “Father always did want me to go into business like him. I always assumed that meant he wanted me to pick up his torch.”

“Forget what he thinks for a minute,” she instructed. “Forget what you’re supposed to be doing or what would make your father happiest. Is that what you want to do?”

His answer was almost immediate. “Not really. It’s always sounded rather dull the way he explained it to me.”

“So in a perfect world, what you want to keep doing?” she asked him. “The world’s open to you. You can do what makes you happy. You can do what excites you. You can do what you think will help you grow and learn as a person. What’s that thing?”

He smiled softly and stared at her through his bangs, as if he was already anticipating the answer she was trying to get him to give her. “I….I want to keep taking pictures.”

Marinette smiled brightly. “What else?”

He drummed his hands against his lap and stared off into space. “I dunno. I guess I just want more. I want to meet more photographers. I want to learn more about photography. I want to take more pictures. I want to do more with photography. I want….I want to make art . Nothing makes me happier than when I show people the things I can do and it affects the way they feel. It touches them, makes them pause, makes them walk away with something they didn’t have before. I can do that! And I want to keep doing that.”

“They call people like that artists, you know,” Marinette joked. “And you’re definitely an artist. You make magic with your hands. You create things that other people can’t immediately replicate. That’s art.”

“It seems so….intangible almost. Maybe that’s the wrong word,” he wondered. “I mean, I know there are artists in the world, but it never seemed like the sort of thing you could just do for the rest of your life.”

Marinette sighed. “I mean, your future’s a little more unclear. It’s not like being a doctor or a lawyer or a businessman. All those things lead you down a sure path. I don’t know what’ll happen to me or you five, ten years into the future. Being a creative person is messy, so it makes sense that your future will be a little messy too. But….I think it’s worth it! I want to give it a try and see where it can take me. What’s the fun in doing something if you know exactly where it’s going to lead you?”

Adrien winced. “I don’t know if my father would like that. He plans meticulously. Even my life, he planned. Everything I do has a purpose. Basketball and fencing to keep me fit. Chinese to keep me well-rounded. Tutoring to keep me ahead. Piano lessons to keep me cultured. He’s got all these building blocks and he knows exactly where they’re all supposed to go.”

“That’s great for him,” Marinette said, brushing off the comment. “And I’m sure it works for him. But what works for him doesn’t always work for you. You’re not supposed to be forcing yourself into a mold he makes for you. You’re your own person. He can’t dictate that for you forever.”

“Nino said the same thing.” He leaned his head against his knuckle, pressing a thumb into his temple. “And, don’t get me wrong, it makes sense. I agree. And I want to tell him, if only so that he could at least get excited about it and not call it a waste of time. But I don’t know how well that’ll go over with him. I don’t think he’d take it well.”

“Well, what does he have to say about it?”

Adrien nibbled on his bottom lip and traced the scratches on the metal tables. “I, uh….I don’t think he knows. About the photography.”

Her eyes widened. “You haven’t told him?”

“I don’t know how,” he replied helplessly. “He does what he does because he thinks it’s what’s best for me, and he’s really hesitant about me wasting my time with other things because he thinks it’s distracting. I just know that showing him a photo, showing him a new camera, or God forbid mentioning going to school for photography won’t just fall flat. It’ll go horribly. And….” He swallowed. “I don’t know how to deal with him being disappointed in me. I’ll always avoid it if I can.”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

“I’ve got a pretty good inkling.”

“Inklings are just that,” Marinette explained. “The only way you’ll know for sure is if you just say something.”

“It’s not that easy, Marinette….”

“Maybe, but how will you possibly know he’ll be disappointed in you if you don’t even give it a shot?”

The sentiment didn’t seem to cheer him up. His gaze was everywhere but on her, and she suddenly felt like she may have said something wrong. She didn’t know what it was like to have a parent who was unsupportive, or a parent who was absent in more ways than one. Adrien never really liked touching upon his family life much, and Marinette was harshly reminded why. It was jarring to think that Adrien could show so much reluctance in sharing part of himself with his own father. That kind of disconnect with her family wasn’t something she ever had to worry about. It made sense that just saying what was on her mind was something that she would do. But Adrien was clearly a different story.

It was frustrating because she wanted to help but wasn’t quite sure what he needed. It was times like these when Marinette realized how much her own nerves over her crush on him prevented her from learning more intimate things about him. They were supposed to be good friends. Surely she could think of something encouraging to tell him.

She felt horribly out of her element, but she didn’t want to let him stew in silence for too long. “If….” she muttered. “In a perfect world….what would need to happen? What would make you feel safe and supported?”

Adrien lifted his shoulders weakly. “What do you mean?”

Marinette huffed. She wasn’t saying this properly. “I mean….what has to happen to make you comfortable telling him? What would you need?”

He finally made eye contact with her, and she could see how the question made a small spark of vulnerability flash in his eyes, so quick she almost missed it. “I guess,” he said slowly. “Having someone in my corner. Father likes to think he’s right, or that he knows what’s best more than anyone else. More than me. It’s hard to get a word in edgewise to begin with. But for some reason where my future’s concerned, he’s especially adamant. It’d take more than just me to convince him.”

“Adamant about your future?”

Adrien looked up, desperately searching for the words. “He….he’s lost a lot.” The statement hung, and Marinette didn’t need him to elaborate to know exactly what he meant. “He’ll go through hell to make sure I’m safe and secured. Half of that is setting out a very specific path for me. I think me deviating from that….scares him? I don’t know.”

“You know,” she began quietly. “Your friends will go through hell to make sure you’re safe, too. We’ll also go through hell to make sure you’re happy.”

His smile slowly warmed his face, as if an entire slew of fond memories suddenly passed over him. “Yeah. I know.”

She gently knocked her knee against his. “I mean it. I can’t pretend to know what it’s like to deal with your father. I know that can be frustrating. But Alya, Nino, and I are always going to be here if you need help. And just speaking for myself, if you need someone in your corner to help get through to him, I’m just a phone call away.”

Marinette felt her heart whither when she saw him look genuinely surprised at what she’d said, as if that kind of sincerity still wasn’t something that he was used to. But it was quickly eclipsed when Adrien dropped all the bags to the floor, pushed his chair forward, and pulled Marinette into a fierce hug, letting his chin nestle comfortably against her shoulder. Her entire face was glowing, and she struggled with what to do with her hands for a long moment before she let them rest on his shoulders. “You’re a really great friend, Marinette. Thank you.”

Her nerves kicked in the moment her heart started racing. “I-It’s no big deal. Honest.”

Adrien leaned away from her and kept his hands on her shoulders. “It’s a big deal to me. I just wanted you to know that. I feel really lucky that you don’t mind spending all this time with me and helping me figure out what I want to do. No one’s ever really done this much for me before. I guess I’m just really grateful to you is all.”

She beamed at him so hard she could feel the ache in her cheeks. “I’m glad I could help.”

Their detour had to be cut short once Adrien looked at his phone and realized that he probably should start heading home before Nathalie or his father began to worry. Despite her assurances that the bags really weren’t a hassle, he insisted that he help her carry all of her supplies back to her house before he left. His phone was buzzing in his pocket periodically with phone calls and text messages, but he ignored it in favor of chatting with Marinette and giving her his full attention until they stopped in front of the bakery.

He passed off her things and helped her loop the straps around her wrists. “Got everything?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” she assured. “Please answer your phone! They sound worried.”

“I will right now, I promise.” He stuffed both of his hands in his pocket. “S-So, uh….any plans coming up?”

“Not strict ones. Why?”

Adrien bunched his shoulders up by his ears. “Just, uh….you know if you wanted company this summer while you’re designing. Or if you wanted to come with me to some shoots, you can just. I dunno. Text me, or something. It’d be cool to hang out more.”

“Y-Yeah,” she replied. “A-Absolutely! Um….I’ll have a better idea of when I’m free once school finishes, so, yeah! I’ll, uh. I’ll text you. Or you text me! Whatever you want.”

He let his head dip when he chuckled, his bangs falling into his eyes. “Cool, cool. Well, I. I guess I’ll head home. It was fun shopping with you.”

“Thanks for helping me,” Marinette said. “It’s always nice to have company.”

Adrien didn’t immediately move from his spot, still keeping his hands in his pockets and his shoulders pulled up high. It seemed like something was still on his mind, and she was about to ask him what was wrong before he suddenly moved in close, laid a hand on her shoulder, and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek.

Marinette felt her entire body jump when his lips touched, and she was sure she let out a strange high-pitched noise to boot. It was such a short kiss, but when Adrien jerked back she could see his ears turning red. “A-Anyway,” he stuttered. “See you in class!���

He jogged down the block back to his house, leaving Marinette to stand in front of her house while her entire face grew hot. It felt like her entire brain had shut off and it took her a few seconds to come back to herself and force out a quick “Bye!” before he ran too far away. She waited until he was completely out of sight before she covered her face with both hands and let out a quiet scream.

Alya was never going to let her hear the end of this.

#miraculous ladybug #adrienette #adrinette #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #adrinette fanfiction #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #my writing #think alike

[junker-town]

These 2 plays show why you can’t judge Russell Westbrook without proper context

The Thunder and Rockets ran plays that were mirror images of each other with vastly different results. Is it fair to blame or credit their superstars for that?

Before the NBA playoffs began, I listed 31 set plays and player quirks that these 16 teams use that you need to look closely to discover. Call them the Easter Eggs or the cheat sheet of the NBA Playoffs. Click the link to learn more about them. Each night, I’ll round up examples of those 31 set plays and examples of other fun plays or player quirks that you may have missed.

PREVIOUSLY: April 15-16 | April 17 | April 18

This edition of the Cheat Sheet features fewer cool plays because our three playoff games were a foul-drawing debacle, a fourth-quarter brick fest, and a blowout. But I do want to touch on back-to-back possessions that illustrate the complexity of analyzing Russell Westbrook and James Harden independent of their teams.

Also in this piece: the only two cool plays in Wizards-Hawks, the Warriors’ random screens, and the Blazers forgetting an obvious lesson from the first Easter Egg list. As a reminder: if you saw any other cool plays not mentioned here that you wanna appreciate, drop them in the comments.

1. The ultimate Russ vs. Harden test

There’s no easy way to figure out whether Westbrook’s shot-jacking is due to his selfish nature or the lack of options on his team. The answer is a little of both — and even that is unnecessarily simple.

To illustrate how difficult it is to come to a clear answer on the subject, consider these back-to-back possessions in crunch time.

These are incredibly similar plays that ended in completely different ways. Westbrook forced a tough shot that missed, while the Rockets got Patrick Beverley open for a critical corner three.

The primary action in the play is almost the same. In both cases, the star player ran off a staggered double ball screen going to their left.

One subtle difference: Trevor Ariza is stationed on the opposite wing, whereas Andre Roberson is in the same corner as Westbrook is driving. Already, that’s a critical marker differentiating these teams. If Roberson could actually shoot the ball, he’d be in Ariza’s spot, which would give Westbrook more space. It’s hard to blame Westbrook for that.

Still, the two sets are nearly identical. What happens thereafter is not.

Here is what the Thunder’s spacing looks like as Russ runs off the picks:

And here is the Rockets’ spacing as Harden comes off the screens:

The other four Thunder players aren’t giving Westbrook any choices, whereas the Rockets have a beautifully spaced floor with plenty of outlets. At the same time, Harden is picking up his dribble and making an immediate decision to trust another teammate, whereas Westbrook doesn’t even think about passing.

Does the Thunder possession devolve that way because the Thunder have no shooting, or because the other four Thunder players know that Westbrook isn’t passing anyway and there’s no point in trying to get open? Is Houston aligning itself that way because they have the shooting to do it, or because they know Harden is more willing to actually find teammates in crunch time? The answer is a little bit of both in each case.

Let’s fast-forward a beat to illustrate this conundrum further.

Harden knows that he can throw the ball to Gordon and he can still be a threat from way out there. That makes the decision to give it up simpler. On the other hand...

... Russ could easily pass to Oladipo and trust him to cycle into a secondary action, but he’s not the threat Gordon is and the other side of the court is clogged. What do you do?

In Westbrook’s case, the answer is to drive into traffic and launch an awful shot with all five Rockets watching him.

In Harden’s case, it’s to enjoy Gordon driving and kicking to an open Beverley. The floor is spaced beautifully, so as Steven Adams helps on Gordon, Westbrook must help the helper and pick up Nene. The Thunder can’t cover anyone, hence the dagger.

Retracing the steps that ended in those two vastly different possessions off the same kind of play would take months and has no easy answers. Would Thunder players be more ready to make a play if they knew their star would actually pass to them? Or, would Harden flail his way into an awful shot without the lubrication of the Rockets’ pristine spacing?

By the same token, would Rockets players have less urgency to space the floor properly if they figured their star was just going to shoot anyway? Or, would Westbrook be more willing to make the cerebral play if he had teammates he could trust offensively?

Basketball is complicated. That’s why we love this sport.

2. The Bradley Beal dagger

The best plays are tweaks on existing sets that the opponent has seen a thousand times. The Wizards put away the Hawks by lulling them into thinking they were running their classic kill-the-clock set when they really wanted to run something else.

To the naked eye, this looks like the Wizards setting up for Markieff Morris to set a last-second ball screen for John Wall. Instead, the Wizards planned to sneak Bradley Beal off a Marcin Gortat screen for a 3. The Hawks were confused and Beal nailed the dagger.

Terrific stuff from Scott Brooks.

3. Atlanta’s nifty after-timeout trick

Speaking of tweaks on existing sets the opponent has seen a thousand times, this was a great after-timeout set by Mike Budenholzer.

It was the only pretty thing they did all game.

4. Steph Curry’s random screens

We talked about great shooters also being great screen setters with Kyle Korver the other day. The reason is simple: navigating a screen often requires a split second of help from the screeners man, but because nobody wants to leave great shooters, that split second either doesn’t exist or needs to be condensed.

That’s why Stephen Curry is the master. Teams flock to Curry like a magnet, so when he screens for a teammate, it’s like giving that player an open runway. Watch him spring Klay Thompson on this transition sequence.

Thompson got the assist and McGee got the bucket, but the only reason they were open is because of Curry’s little rub screen. That’s his shadow impact.

5. The Blazers forgot about the JaVale lob

From the original Easter Egg piece:

Every time JaVale McGee enters the game, get ready for this set play.

The Warriors run a screen and roll, toss the ball to the other big man in the post and watch him immediately flip a backdoor lob high in the air for McGee to go get it.

And yet, the Blazers forgot.

You've got to pay attention to the sets the Warriors run out of time outs. Things of beauty http://pic.twitter.com/sWb4JT2LEx

— BBALLBREAKDOWN (@bballbreakdown) April 20, 2017

No. 19 on @MikePradaSBN's list:https://t.co/0dBqrcvemH https://t.co/v5HpYTvKdu

— TwoWayGame (@TwoWayGame) April 20, 2017

Oops.