Meet the Minds Behind the Magic: Marco Reus & Mats Hummels, 2028
Marco Reus â The Intuitive Mastermind
The streets never forget. And neither does he.
Date of appointment: July 1st, 2028
Designation: Omega
Strengths: Game intuition, player management, attacking creativity
Role: The visionary. The heartbeat. The coach who still looks like he could sub himself in and win the match.
Favorite trick: Drawing up âaccidentalâ overloads that turn into masterpieces
Marcoâs coaching is pure instinct. He doesnât overtalk tactics, he feels them. He studied under Pep at Man City while getting his UEFA A and Pro licenses, co-coached their U19s, and basically became Pepâs favorite. Came back with a brain full of ideas and a heart still bleeding black and yellow.
Heâs sharp on the sidelines, softer in the locker room. Maternal without meaning to be. Deadly precise when it counts.
Still calls matches âbeautifulâ when theyâre just right. Still wears fitted black everything and sneaks in nutmegs during rondos.
And if his eyes sometimes linger too long on his assistant coach- well. That's just coincidence, right?
âBe patient, but when itâs on, go with full force.â
Mats Hummels â The Strategic Assistant Coach
Still reads the game like a novel. Still has that cute GrĂźffelo keychain.
Date of appointment: July 1st, 2028
Designation: Alpha
Strengths: Defensive structure, tempo control, calm authority
Role: The anchor. The tactician. The one who fixes the plan and brings snacks.
Favorite trick: Fixing broken game plans with one raised eyebrow and a substitution
Mats learned under Ancelotti in Spain, earned his UEFA badges with brutal diligence, and returned with the patience of a philosopher.
He doesnât say much (Marco's the boss after all), but when he does, the entire squad listens.
Can explain complex defensive triggers using salt shakers in the cafeteria. Still has that stare that makes forwards nervous. Wears reading glasses and secretly loves spreadsheets.
Keeps chocolate in his coat for Marco. It's all coincidence, though, he says. (Is it?)
âThink first. Then hunt.â
next: the keepers â meet kobel & urbig, aka the wall & the wild one.
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This was done for as an art trade for a fellow Kirby fan:
The latest Tweets from đăă || Tobi (@Starstitched). â¤. They/Themđ. Retrođ. Artist @PolarisBeast. â¤Kirby (esp Meta Knight).
Iâve been in a bit of a physical and emotional slump for a while so Iâve just been splashing around in the relaxing waters of Kirby video games and media. Iâve been a fan of the pink puff for a while, and they always makes me happy.
This was also a good exercise in masking, clip masks, texture and brush sets in Procreate.
Also a bonus sketch of Kirby with fluffy bunny feet
Whenever Mags sees Harry, the world seems to tilt, breath caught somewhere between the inhale and the exhale. Itâs absurd, he knowsâbeing a professional and allâbut he canât fight it, not when Harry lingers like a comet, streaking bright and unforgettable through the expanse of his life.
Harry's never meant to stay. Heâs meant to blaze brilliantly and disappear into the horizon, leaving only the memory of light behind. And yet, here he is, lingering, orbiting closer, even with the distance that pulls them apartâstadiums, matches, lives that run parallel but never quite meet.
Maguire canât stop the yearning that settles heavy in his chest, a longing like the pull of the tides to the moon. Harry stands there, talking to the staff, his presence commanding and warm, drawing everyone in without effort. It feels like a constant ache, watching Harry like this, close enough to touch yet impossibly farâlike reaching for a star with nothing but outstretched hands and fragile hope.
But Harry, damn him, turns his head just slightly, catching Mags' gaze. And for a moment, everything elseâthe noise, the distance, the worldâfades away. Thereâs a softness in Harryâs eyes, a familiarity that feels like home, and Maguire canât help but drown in it.
He doesnât speak; he never needs to. Not with Harry. The longing is woven into every glance, every moment that stretches too long, every smile that lingers as if to say, stay, stay, stay.
And in that instant, as Harryâs lips curve into a small, knowing smile, Mags canât help but feel like maybe, just maybe, his comet has found its way back to him. Even if only for now.