#BREAKRANKS. an experimental indie multimuse for characters in (and tailored to) netflix's cobra kai. [ wip roster + guidelines, pinboards. ] tagging part 3 spoilers until march.
KIROKAZE
almost home

Origami Around

dirt enthusiast
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

Janaina Medeiros
styofa doing anything
Sweet Seals For You, Always

Kaledo Art

romaβ
hello vonnie
occasionally subtle
Cosimo Galluzzi
NASA
One Nice Bug Per Day
taylor price
Three Goblin Art
d e v o n
Game of Thrones Daily
seen from Sweden

seen from Bolivia

seen from Singapore

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom

seen from Brazil

seen from South Korea

seen from Malaysia

seen from South Korea

seen from Israel

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from Netherlands

seen from United States

seen from United States
@breakranks
#BREAKRANKS. an experimental indie multimuse for characters in (and tailored to) netflix's cobra kai. [ wip roster + guidelines, pinboards. ] tagging part 3 spoilers until march.

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all my energy is going toward survival rn but just now that i still love you all and hope you're doing well, all things considered
all kwon jae-sung rpers have my full permission to use my boy ellis as a plot device to keep him alive btw! let him save the kid π€
γ €γ €Heβd been patient while waiting outside the secluded area, a virtue that wasnβt afforded to some of his own prior students or even those from their current dΕjΕ, the manβs temperament often quick to ignite during moments of heightened pressure. Silver kept himself preoccupied at first, concentration sifting through upcoming scheduled appointments and calls over the oncoming days from the interface of a secure service on his phone, its connection taking a few seconds longer to load due to a poorer signal attempting to communicate with a server across the Atlantic, a few of the little grey boxes set toΒ βΒ tentativeΒ βΒ given the unpredictability of upcoming events - decisive confirmations would be required after a make-or-break moment, and while he rolls with the punches with the best of themβ¦ there are certain conditions where the man prefers to adopt a firmer guidingΒ handΒ fist to get things moving and intune with the rhythm of his making.
γ €γ €γ €γ €And perhaps there are far too many variables that need his attention, or even a thread of apprehension that rears its ugly head on account of others who are just as volatile as the former sensei, but the fact remains: heβsΒ not in the mood to play nice. That musicβΒ sorry, no, a correction neededΒ (Β becauseΒ βΒ musicΒ β alludes to pieces which elicit a swell of emotionΒ ).Β ThatΒ noise had droned on incessantly, and it didnβt help that the enclosed space further amplified it, waves reverberating against each surface to grate on ears that have a penchant for elaborate symphonies and the expertise bestowed upon tinkling ivories. Gelid eyes had snapped to the time and noted the minutes which had strayed, soundlessly entering the room to see the student without a goddamn care in the worldΒ (Β enough was enoughΒ ).Β In a sense sheβs lucky itβs Silver making his presence known as opposed to their primary sensei, the potential for far worse retaliation in the mix, a large palm holding up the joke of a speaker with the pastel haired girlβs rebuttal, expression quizzically bemused.
γ €γ €β ThisΒ plastic toy?Β If it were to find itself at the bottom ofΒ El Llobregat, it would hardly be a loss.Β βΒ Itβs not a threatΒ (Β unless she wants it to beΒ ),Β the man gently tossing it back down towards her belongings with a soft thud upon a spare towel. A longΒ blackΒ grey gi is draped over an arm, the man having intended to warmup himself before leading a preparatory session a little later during that hour, a glance extended over her head to effectively lookΒ past her, taking in the expanse of the space and its amenitiesΒ (Β not badΒ ).Β A wrist raises for a long pointed index finger to circle on the spot.Β β Youβve overstayed your welcome. Wrap it up.Β β
The absolute nerve of this old git. Who is he to try to cut her extended workout short? If it's just him--and it looks like it is--why does she have to leave? Fuck the allotted time on the sheet; doesn't it show the ferocity of her ambition to stay beyond the bonds of what she'd signed up for? To work herself harder than the rest of her team?
She'd been in the process of cooling down, but now? She could go another few rounds, fuelled by spite if nothing else.
She could get another speaker. Easily. The thing was cheap, picked up at some novelty store inside a mini mall when she'd been shopping for carry-on friendly toiletry items. But the threat of it being taken from her raises her hackles.
"You don't even have any students with you," she whinges, dropping low, quickly extending her leg toward the bag, and hooking her foot through one of the straps to pull it all toward her without getting too close to the looming old man. "Are you allowed to be in here without them?" she asks as she stands again, satisfied that her possessions are outside his immediate sphere of influence.
"This isn't some all ages YMCA," she tells him, a biting edge in her tone as she turns--never fully away from him--and returns to a slightly worn muay thai bag. She lays a hand on it and blows a few strands of hair out of her face. "I get priority: I'm actually competing. Your students show up, I'll leave."
this is my lowest imaginary pressure blog so im making an attempt here before trying to get back into it on my main

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@breakranks requested a training session.
There Β is Β a Β short Β pause Β on Β the Β student's Β step Β when Β he Β notices Β the Β empty Β dojo. Β He Β had Β known Β what Β to Β expect Β when Β it Β came Β to Β an Β empty Β room Β not Β even Β Zara Β was Β there Β to Β keep Β him Β company Β and Β strengthen Β their Β teamwork. Β This Β meant Β it Β was Β a Β one Β on Β one Β training Β with Β Sensei Β Wolf. Β Bag Β falls Β with Β a Β small Β thud Β to Β the Β ground Β and Β as Β he Β takes Β off Β his Β shoes, Β he Β walks Β to Β the Β mat, Β all Β so Β robotic Β after Β years Β of Β doing Β the Β same. Β
Though Β he Β is Β less Β focused Β there, Β as Β he Β thinks Β back Β on Β Sam, Β learning Β she Β had Β decided Β to Β step Β down Β from Β the Β fight Β after Β he Β injured Β Robby Β ( Β he Β could Β not Β sleep Β that Β he Β had Β to Β medicate Β to Β get Β a Β night Β sleep, Β lack Β of Β it Β makes Β him Β slow Β and Β Wolf Β hates Β him Β slow Β ). Β "Sensei?" Β He Β calls Β into Β the Β darkness Β for Β a Β moment, Β his Β voice Β unwavering Β but Β the Β frown Β on Β his Β forehead Β betrays Β his Β sentiment.
The moment Axel opens his mouth, calling out to his sensei, the already dim room plunges further into darkness as the power cuts out following the sharp, distinctive clang of a circuit breaker box safety switch being thrown into the off position. Even the fire exit signs lose their emerald illumination, and with no windows in this centralized room, the darkness is oppressive.
Visual sensory deprivation training is something new to this dojo. Something--quite frankly--desperate. Something Wolf may or may not have had whispered into his ear by a certain silver haired silver tongue.
It's also something that makes sense, perhaps now more than ever, with the boy's little crush having come to Wolf's attention. Kovacevic needs to regain his focus, or everything Wolf has sacrificed and fought so goddamn hard for will be for naught.
He will not lose everything. Not again. And sure as hell not to the chaos of some teenager's hormones.
Wolf does not call back to him as his office door quietly creaks open; he stays low and creeps, sure footed, toward his student. The sensei's vision has adjusted in the time he's waited for Axel's arrival. In his office, just to the side of the sparring mat, he'd been sitting in near complete darkness with his hand on the switch. His pupils have grown wide to let in every bit of light possible, and that gives him a strong advantage even if the young man only appears as a rough dark shape against an almost equally dark background.
Stalking closer, the sensei is a wraith: he is very nearly silent, but his menacing presence can be felt.
When he's sure he's in position, he strikes. Hard.
The move comes fast, but there's no way for him to muffle the sound of cloth and vinyl and skin all sliding against one another at such speed. Axel has a chance thanks to that, however small it might be, to react before the leg sweep drops him off his feet. And if he falls, more punishment awaits.
Lewis Tan at Paris Fashion Week, January 2025
γ €γ €To say that Wolf was aΒ contentious figure would be an understatement, some of the reports gained about him making for difficult reading for anyone with a shred of empathyβΒ but personal morals can be temporarily set aside when tunnel vision desperation comes into play, the bigger picture far more appealing than the expense of a few. What mattered most wasΒ gaining results, the elderΒ very rarely not getting his own way with any endeavour heβd set his mind toΒ (Β claw marks remaining in the place of scant lossesΒ ),Β this recent spell of miserable incidents costing him far more than he could ever imagine - Terry Silverβs pride had been irrevocably bruised, and for those within his crosshairs, thereβd be hell to pay. Thereβs a thoughtful hum with the comparison between the two star students, and while any footage reviewed online didnβt show any intricate detail, it wasΒ enough to garner his interest.
γ €γ €γ €γ €Zara was incredibly agile whereas Axel was an iron wall, a combination of two very different techniques of fighting style that would make them unstoppable given their adaptability to an opponent, the man wondering to himself whether the footage of neither of them concedingΒ any points during bouts was accurate. Silver can understand wanting to maintain oneβs own imageΒ (Β as heβs sure the social media influencer doesΒ ),Β but when you have a third party audience advocating as such, it makes intriguing viewing.Β β Wise boy. Sometimes a littleΒ mystique is preferable, but balance can be key.Β βΒ Be that as it may, that didnβt mean the old man himself wasnβt shy from the limelight, often enjoying the attention and revelling in it when the opportunity struck, mindful of those who faded into the background into inevitable obscurity.Β βΒ But I canβt blame your other champ for wanting to capitalise on her achievements. Being at her prime with only room for improvement, whether sheβs given it any consideration or not, sheβs paving a way for her future.Β β
γ €γ €A grin ticks into place, momentarily chancing upon the other glancing at the eye catching pendant.Β β And by extension,Β yours.Β βΒ Thereβs a faintΒ shift in the senseiβs mien when identities come into question, Terryβs smug expression unrelenting, a confidence in place thatβs undeterred by Wolfβs uneaseΒ (Β thriving from itΒ ) - he currently knows ofβ¦Β three aliases the other goes by, and while his team were on the brink of cracking a fourth when a case of genuine mistaken identity came into play, he put a stop to the investigation the moment theyβd successfully tracked the manβs whereabouts, the need to continue seemingly frivolous at this pointΒ (Β but later? who knowsβ¦Β ).Β β Wolf it is,Β βΒ he croons in acceptance, quietly impressed by the lack of overt apprehension reflected back, occasions in the past where some would simply call it quits even at this early stage when personal intrusion came into play, unable to stomach the depths in which anΒ interested party would go.
γ €γ €γ €γ €β You could say that, but I think youβll find there isnβt much beyond my reach. I can be aΒ very useful resource to have at your disposal. Think of this partnership as one ofΒ mutual benefit. Anything you need, just say the wordβΒ βΒ Speaking of intrusions, he halts when the vendorβs creaking wheels cuts through their charged conversation, a flicker of heightened irritation segueing to a widening of blue eyes, squarely staring at the frame of the ramshackle cart with its peeling outer coating and rusted edges - Wolf vociferously haggles to sate his hunger, but Terry isnβt interested in what the little vendor has to offer, instead fixated on a red stripe thatβs been freshly painted along the base, (im)patiently waiting for attention to veer his way. An arm subsequently rests against the jagged upper surface, the gesture covering a pane of murky glass where fried critters are on display, leather dangerously close to droplets of oil and flecks of flaking salt, cunning eye contact dangerously poised.
γ €γ €β Mmm, Iβm looking for something thatβsΒ not on your regular menu.Β βΒ A knuckle raps against the vibrant motif in a manner thatβs so utterlyΒ casual as if an order of fries or a hamburger had been requested, except the seller freezes on the spot, gaze shifting between the two customers with an unsuccessfully feigned murmur of broken English of how there was a lack of availabilityβΒ But that answerΒ doesnβt cut it, the elder looming with a nigh predatory expression - a number of establishments carried a licence for traditional medicines, but there was also a rampant black market trade for certain remedies, those with heavy taxation or fines in place on account of being banned due to animal cruelty, environmental concerns or a depletion of natural resourcesΒ (Β none of which are of his concernΒ ).Β Hand slipping into the inner pocket of Silverβs jacket, a hefty wad of baht is extracted along with a card for the hotel he was staying at, the digits twitching back while watching the other give into temptation to reach out for them both.
γ €γ €γ €γ €β Have someone stop by before 8 AM.Β βΒ The card is sharply pressed against the vendorβs chest along with a single bill, the rest of the money pocketed after this little game of show-and-tell.Β β My associate and I have a flight to catch.Β β
***
γ €γ €The cabin crew are hard at work in the background mid flight, and while the scantest outline of the overly lavish Grand Lisboa casino is visible from a window to indicate they werenβt too far from their arrival, Terryβs thoughts are a little distant, concentration upon the two menβs conversation unnervingly ebbing and flowing in drips and drabs. Heβd like to think itβs due to an amalgam of lack of sleep and a hangover, but heΒ knows his bodyβs limitations, something else gnawing away at him as line of vision trails over an insignia sewn into a napkin. A digit idly worries over the lettersΒ TS, a nail snagging on loosening thread from the repetitive motion - while an acquaintanceΒ (Β read: someone who didnβt want to get on his wrong side based on a prior bad experienceΒ )Β had pulled a few strings to get them this particular jet, in essence itβs no longerΒ his anymore, a diminishment of personal ownership setting irate nerve endings alight.Β
γ €γ €γ €γ €Thereβs a pause as spoken words peter out, a ringing in Silverβs ears that commences to subside, broad palms raising to firmly press along his crown where freshly washed and tied back hair make for a much neater look.Β β Sorry, a lot on my mind.Β βΒ The faintest croak of a chuckle slips out from the depths of his throat, peering to the sensei sitting opposite from him within the comfort of a singular chair, tanned leather and sleek wood adorning their immediate surroundings - despite the unseemly environment that theyβd met in, the way Wolf carries himself, it almost looks like heΒ belongs in such opulence, a deep breath taken in as a hand gestures to the other to continue.Β β Start again from the top.Β β
For much of what's primarily been a rather one sided conversation, Wolf has felt the disrespect of Silver's perceived disinterest like alcohol spilled on abraded skin. To sit him here in the lap of great wealth, trapped a gilded cage in the sky, and then to ignore what he has to say? To make him repeat it all anew?
The man is playing games, and Wolf really ought to get used to that.
A lot on his mind, his mysterious new benefactor had said. And Wolf wonders, briefly, what could possibly be so wholly distracting and so bafflingly unsolvable with all the money he assumes Terry has. There are precious few of his own troubles that cannot be solved with the almighty dollar, euro, or yuan, after all.
Wolf is restless in a way that pacing up and down the aisle will not help, and only that fact keeps him seated. And his ears really, really need to pop.
In an effort to remedy one of those discomforts, Wolf works his jaw, then reaches for the pretentiously expensive bottle of water he'd been given when he'd refused any other food or drink options offered to him by Silver's cabin crew. And he makes a production out of unscrewing the metallic lid from the glass bottle before taking a series of ungracious gulps.
As though all his unheard talking has left him parched.
"Let me hit the highlights again," he says, his tone clipped as he fights the urge to leave half moon divots in the supple leather armrests of the luxurious seat he's half engulfed in. "With your financial backing, I want to cut my class size down by at least half. I'd only been accepting the nothings as a way to keep up with costs, and without their dead weight, I can invest further into my top six."
He says six, but he really only means two. Given the proper motivation--the stick before the carrot--he believes Axel and Zara will carry the Dragons alone.
"There are some renovations that will need done, quickly."
Wolf thinks of his hands balled in the front of a practice gi. Of the sound of a floor to ceiling mirror cracking, and a hiss of pain after impact. Of deafening silence. Of Axel's face as he'd staggered back onto the mat after him like an obedient, beaten dog.
"And to truly be free to focus on my work, I expect a generous, no-questions-asked stipend for costs not directly related to the dojo."
He's debts that need paid. Debts to people that even a man who calls himself Wolf is afraid of.
"None of that should be a hardship to a man like yourself," Wolf asserts. Schmoozes, really.
COBRA KAI Ex-Degenerate
until at least the end of the month, i will be tagging part 3 spoilers with the 3 most common tags ive seen on my dash
part 3 spoilers / ck spoilers cobra kai spoilers

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thinking about ellis in two distinctly different ways:
one where kwonβs injury was treatable (though still life threatening and scary for everyone involved) with a quick enough response. one where he was able to stabilize him on the mat, ensuring he could be saved at a nearby hospital.
the more canon friendly option, where despite his quick action, he wasnβt able to help him. where he fights against the continuation of the sekai taikai. where he needs to be convinced* not to make a spectacle about senseiβs putting their desire for glory above the physical and mental wellbeing of their students.
i am yELLING
@cptnstars {{ ahnjong said "I love your shirt!"
This. Oh, Ravenna lives for this sort of thing. She takes a great deal of pride in her aesthetic, puzzling together each individual piece in her outfits--and at times, there are many, many accessories involved--and she adores when other women and girls take the time to compliment her taste. It always feels so real to hear it from them, as opposed to when men make the comments they do.
"Thank you so much!" she gushes, pulling at the bottom hem of her pastel pink shirt to better show off the design airbrushed on it. "My friend designed it. Isn't it just the cutest?"
She's at her brightest like this.
"Oh my god, I love your shoes," she reciprocates genuinely, warmly. "And your bag!"
lifeβs not been very kind to me lately. thanks for your patience!
it's time to remember who you are.

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Monkey Man 2024 | dir. Dev Patel