#anyways that's my snail post of the day

[b-plus]

i was looking up why my snail was sleeping out of their shell one time (they're fine they just ate too much) and i saw this post

"maybe it's more comfortable sleeping outside your shell when you're puffy!" makes me so unbelievably happy

[mabbbish]

wonderful day to remember ninjago has a canon highschool au

[castkorb]

I made this post a few days ago and was asked for more input on Sting's character in regards to future Rogue so here's some more thoughts:

enjoy <3

Future Rogue explicitly says he killed Sting and took his power but I have my doubts about that:

f!Rogue said to Natsu that in one year from the games Frosch would be killed by Gray and thus his pillar would be gone and he would succumb to the shadow, meaning during Avatar Gray and Rogue would fight.

But Tartaros happened before Avatar, and during this arc we witness Sting and Rogue's first shown improvement after swearing change in the name of Sabertooth, which culminates in both of them killing Jienma and erasing Sabertooth's ugly past for good. also using a unique unison raid that only they can do <3

Which solidifies the fact that Rogue is no longer intimidated by his shadow because, as he said himself, Sting would be able to kill it. He no longer lives haunted by the thoughts of his shadow taking over him because he knows Sting will always be there to protect him.

But this obviously all happened in the good future where the world didn't end and now THIS is where the fun begins.

What happened in the bad future where f!Rogue is from?

If my memory serves correct f!Rogue later revealed that his plan was to open the gate of Eclipse to let dragons from the past in and rule them to overcome Acnologia, who would soon descend and raise the world into chaos.

Now I don't think he gave an exact date as to when would this be but, Acnologia did indeed appear later during Tartaros so we're going to assume that's when the apocalypse started in the bad timeline.

And let's rewind for a sec to what happened in the good timeline's Tartaros: Sting and Rogue helped Fairy Tail, saved Minerva and killed Jienma, which is a direct consequence of what f!Rogue did during Eclipse.

I explain:

What would have happened after the games ended in this bad timeline? Would Sting have accepted to become Sabertooth's new master? His resolution begins when he gives up before Erza and the rest during the final battle but I don't think he really makes up his mind about it until the dragons are attacking the city and he fights to protect his guild, both he and Rogue do.

It's not until both of them are fighting at the end of the world that they realise what made Fairy Tail the strongest guild, and even after having tecnically lost, this battle gave them something f!Rogue probably didn't expect.

It gave them hope.

So can we really assume they would've followed the same path had they not fought the dragons? I find it absolutely marvelous and poetic how f!Rogue, having lost all sense of compassion, hope and having nothing left but rage, wanting to cast his revenge in this new timeline indirectly saved him and his beloved from the horrors he had to endure.

Which brings me back to my first statement. In the bad timeline Sting was left with nothing after the games ended, sure Jienma was gone, he got Lector back and he had Rogue but what was he supossed to do from there on? Without the cataclysm of the Eclipse gate I assume he'd want nothing to do with Sabertooth again, or maybe he did, but then as Tartaros arrived maybe the guild had not yet gone through the experience of truly fighting along your peers to protect them, none of the guilds had. except, yknow, fairy tail but they're literally the mcs here

We can't forget that they were fighting literal demons here, plus Acnologia himself. -Again taking in mind the experience of fighting dragons had also not happened here-

You could also argue that the FACE project the Tartaros gates had planned might've actually worked in this timeline, which would result in over half of the population or more being left without magic to fight, it's understandable the world fell into chaos pretty quickly and a huge number of people died, as we saw in f!Lucy's timeline.

And Sting and Rogue were probably neither mentally nor physically prepared to fight all of this right after the magic games, they didn't have time to bond with their guildmates after Jienma died the same way they did in the good timeline, hell I'd even argue Sting was probably in a worse state because he got his emotional and physical strenght tested back then and there's no way he'd recover from that in such a short time with only Rogue's help.

Throughout the manga we see how Sting is the uplifting half of this duo, he's the one who constantly reassures Rogue and the rest of the guild, he's taken his admiration for Natsu and learned from it in that sense, but is bad future Sting like this? Is he able to smile and shine a path to the people he loves, is he able to fight for them?

In my head f!Rogue didn’t kill Sting because Sting likely gave up fighting or chose to sacrifice himself. that being to give Rogue another chance to live or because he knew one of them would die and he knew he wouldn't be able to live without Rogue is up to interpretation :)

And this proves to me that neither can live without the other, when Sting died f!Rogue either lost his mind and gave into grief not fully, he would after Frosch's death and took his powers in order to survive or to preserve a small part of Sting with him, which makes this shit sadder when his shadow fully takes over him and he's no longer concious of this, using his partner's power, the only power able to guide him and subdue him to kill without remorse.

f!Rogue said that Frosch was his pillar but I refuse to believe Sting is not a pillar for him as well, he may have fully lost against his shadow after losing Frosch but his relationship with Sting having ended simply with a "I killed him amd took his powers" I will not accept, Rogue lost half his heart when Sting died/was killed and Frosh was the last bit of sanity that remained of him after that, which was ultimately but not the only reason he wasn't strong enough to fight his shadow.

As you can see I have a lot to say about this arc and I would've given anything for it to be explored more but alas I've spent the last 6+ years rewritting the entirety of this manga in my head and I love to dive into the possibilities, like what could have happened if Sting had lost Rogue in that future? what happened to the rest of the Sabertooth's members? I can be here all day.

But anyways I feel I'm not good enough at expressing my thoughts in written form but I hope it's understandable enough? I'm growing more confident though so hopefully I can puke more nonsense about this two <33

[seastarlily]

Art of SpongeBob and friends celebrating the 4th of July.

(Source)

[wilczmin]

i just really need you guys to know, since we're on the topic of soap, that geralt does wash his asscrack. it's really important to me that you all know that

[seventh-district]

IT’S FISH DAY IT’S FISH DAY IT’S FISH DAY

[jeoseungsaja]

HAPPY HOLIDAYS, EVERYONE!!! 🎁

Whether you celebrate or not, I want to wish you all some very cozy and joyful days, full of things and people and situations that make you smile and also feel at ease ❤️ may this time be super bright and easy going, as well as wrapped in thrilling wonder. Thank you all for being here, for being sweet, lovely, magnificent souls who constantly light up this place by being you. It’s been nothing but an honor, to be able to know you and share this writing journey with all of you (all the friendships I’ve made here make my heart incredibly warm; I ADORE YOU 🥺), I’ll always be greatly thankful for the chance you’ve given my silly characters and I 💖 please know you’re dearly appreciated and cherished, and you got a friend in me!!  Take much care and stay safe!! 

[snailsrneat]

Just letting y'all know, I made some pretty extreme changes to my OC intro post that I made on April 1st, so if you've already seen it you might just wanna look through it again because I deleted an entire paragraph and added in some stuff.

[saerins]

─── 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

+ itoshi sae x f!reader | wc 4.7k | content: fluff (i promise), slight insecurities, comfort, 5 times he says yes and 1 time he says no

notes: ok ok so guys !! i know i’ve been posting angst recently so i offer you comfort sae !! <3 this man has my entire heart so i’m just gonna embrace it hehe may or may not have been thinking of ‘daylight’ when i wrote this .

summary: the way sae loves you is beautiful. it’s nothing like you envisioned and something you never knew you needed.

“be my girlfriend, then, idiot.”

he’s handsome, seventeen.

even more handsome when he’s on the field, being the beast you know he is. he dribbles past everyone like they’re robots, like they’re snails. he gets into the penalty area and scores, and everyone in the stand cheers.

if there’s one common knowledge in your high school, it’s that itoshi sae is one of the world’s best soccer players.

maybe it’s no wonder that you’re holding a bag full of gifts for sae for valentines, being assistant manager for your school’s soccer team. it’s astounding how heavy this bag is. but you’ll know that in the end, whatever’s inside will likely get distributed between the entire team anyway, given how sae never accepts a single one.

“is it that time of the year again?” sae sighs, squirting water from his bottle into his mouth, towel hanging around his neck as he walks out of the locker room shirtless, fresh after a shower and hair all damp, sticking to the sides of his face.

still handsome.

“would it kill you to accept at least one of them?”

you expect one of his usual retorts—maybe a yes or a one of them could be poisonous. but instead, he grabs the bag from you, still frowning. “fine then,” he says, opening the bag and peering inside before he turns his gaze back onto you, “which one’s from you?”

the one with the purple post-it attached to sae’s favourite candy bar.

“i didn’t give you any, itoshi,” you lie, keeping your calm and crossing your arms. but sae cocks a brow because he doesn’t believe you. “really!”

“yeah, you sure about that?” sae’s tone takes a surprisingly gentle turn, and you find it hard to get used to. especially when it’s coupled with an amused expression.

“really, i’d die before giving anything to a grump like you.”

sae nods his head like he doesn’t believe you and starts rifling through the contents. he takes something out—a candy bar with a purple post-it attached to it. you can’t escape from him even if you tried.

“you’re the most irritating smart handsome guy i know, i hope you make it to the big leagues, i’ll never get tired of watching you play,” sae reads out loud, monotonously because it’s his way of mocking you. his gaze shifts from the note up to you, and he has his answer by your unwillingness to meet his eyes. “slick.”

“oh, shut up,” you tell him before turning on your heels and walking off.

“you want me so bad.”

“you wish, itoshi sae.”

“hey, take the rest of these away from me,” sae calls after you, referring to the big bag of valentines’ gifts you’d just left him with.

you turn around, walking backwards. “i’m not your girlfriend, itoshi, not my job!”

sae smirks. “be my girlfriend then, idiot.”

taken off guard, you fail to watch where you’re walking and fall over a broom, knocking several of the janitor’s stuff over. sae runs over, straight-faced while he holds his hand out to you.

“damn klutz,” he remarks as he pulls you up on your feet.

you’re thankful sae’s not the kind to make jokes like how he swept you off your feet, but the close proximity is making you giddy, in a good way, and you’re not sure you want to pass up on that.

“so?”

“so what, itoshi? and let me go,” you say, trying to pull away from him. he doesn’t let go though.

“say yes, then i’ll let go,” he tells you, and you can feel his breath fanning your lips and you’re sure he’s having a field day watching you get flustered.

“sure you want me, itoshi sae?” because a part of you finds that hard to believe, with the way he rejects other girls left and right and barely feels any remorse.

but what you don’t know is how different you are to him. if he dare say, special. maybe it’s the way you’ve always seemed like the stubborn kind, the kind of girl that refuses to ask for help but secretly wants to be protected. the kind of girl who can always help herself, but kill him if he thinks you’re someone who wouldn’t mind having someone to lean on.

maybe at some point, he started to want to be that person for you. no matter how many times you scream his name for not complying to schedules, no matter how many times you flip your hair against his face. you have everyone on the soccer team on a leash, and most of all sae.

that’s the first time he tells you—yes, he wants you.

“not even if you bribe me.”

at nineteen, sae’s serious about you.

it’s no secret that he’s devoted—you can feel it. because sae isn’t the type to profess his love every day, no. he’s the kind that shows it through his actions, through the way he automatically carries your shopping for you, through the way he always takes your side in public, through the way he looks at you whenever you’re talking.

you have no doubt about it. it doesn’t even cross your mind that he might stray. yeah, you have your priorities, and he has his. you’ll go after them, and he’ll go after his—there’s no reason why you can’t chase your dreams in parallel.

your parents think otherwise, though.

like some rather typical parents do, they’re sceptical; sae can see it in their eyes. the way they furrow their brows whenever you invite him to chime in during dinner, the way they ask investigative questions—things about his past history that even you never asked him.

“mom!” you’re fed up with their interrogation tactics, shooting a warning glare at your parents.

your mom and dad look at each other in resignation before resuming to quietly eat their dinner. you’re reluctant to leave sae alone at the dinner table with your parents while you help to wash up, but sae tells you he’ll be fine. because he will.

they’re humans. they’re like you, just older and less prettier. why should sae be scared?

as expected, the moment you turn the tap on, your parents jump on him.

“you know, she really likes you,” your mom tells him. “i can’t say the same for you, though.”

sae’s never navigated around conversations with parents. he doesn’t know the first thing about this. he’s just keeping his fingers crossed he doesn’t fuck up.

“you look like someone who has a lot of girls, itoshi,” your father chimes in before sae can speak up. “you have a lot of girls on the side?”

he could not be more wrong.

“none, sir.”

why does this effort feel much more than necessary?

“why y/n?” your mother jumps in, and for the first time tonight, sae spots a genuine curiosity in her eyes.

not the best question to ask someone who doesn’t even remotely talk about their feelings. sae finds himself stumped, but your mother is, fortunately, a nice person deep down.

“just tell me this,” she leans forward, and your father seems to relax a little bit, sinking back against his chair. none of you realise the tap’s turned off. “do you love her?”

that’s… premature, if sae has any say in it. and he thinks it’s criminal that he’s telling your mother before he even tells you, but he knows that not admitting it would likely cause a rift between you and them—not something he wants.

making you miserable? no thank you.

so he nods, “yes, i do.”

“you realise that—”

“sir, let me put it this way: you can’t force me to stay away from her, not even if you bribe me.”

from the kitchen, you smile as you listen. looks like you had nothing to worry about after all.

“they’re nothing compared to you.”

you love seeing sae living his dreams; love having front-row seats to his matches, love catching the fleeting glimpses he gives after he wins.

he’s twenty-one and thriving in the soccer scene, more than ever. world-famous and revered. the two of you are stronger than ever, still, because despite how sae looks, he’s much softer than people think.

when he’s running late from practice, he texts you the moment he can, tells you what’s up. when he has to cancel on you, he makes sure he makes it up to you. if he has soccer obligations on special occasions, he’ll let you know.

it’s funny thinking back to the days when you used to squabble with each other, to the days when everyone was tired of hearing you and sae argue.

not that that should be a problem now anymore—why? simple, because non-disclosure agreements are ass. but a highly recommended thing by his publicist; to protect his image, and then he told you not to take it personally because he’s asking all of sae’s close contacts to sign it too.

which didn’t take long.

it was mostly rin and his parents, and some other guys he used to know back in high school.

oh, and there’s you. apparently, you can’t divulge anything about being in a relationship with itoshi sae. so, as far as the world is concerned, he’s a bachelor.

“it’ll sell better,” was all the explanation his publicist offered.

sae had been against it, because why should he hide you from the world? and it’s stupid. but his publicist is smart, pointing out that you might get harassed online if his loyal fans find out. (to which sae begrudgingly agreed to, for the interim.)

it was fine, up to a point, but you’d never really considered how you’d feel seeing all these headlines of sae possibly being romantically linked with all these socialites and up-and-coming movie stars.

a part of you, the prideful part, is too stuck-up to ask your boyfriend for assurance. mainly because you think it’s stupid. sae constantly texts you when he’s not with you (as much as his schedule allows), and whenever he’s done for the day he goes back home and calls you if he can.

the other part of you, the lovestruck one, is afraid that maybe you can’t measure up to everyone else. that just maybe, you’re worlds apart and you’re not good enough.

usually you’d wait for sae to tell you he’s home, you’d let him rest his mind on the way back, but this time you’re impulsive and you’re dialing his number before you know it.

“hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, picking up after just two rings. even he knows you don’t usually initiate the calls.

“um,” you stutter because you don’t actually know how to tell him you’re calling to ask for assurance. despite having been together for four years, you realise that neither of you have actually sat down and talked about feelings.

“babe, talk to me,” sae urges you, and you can hear him getting off the bus. he must have just reached his apartment complex. he must’ve been tired from an entire day of intensive bootcamp and here you are, calling him with your trivial matters.

“it’s nothing, sae, forget it.”

“wait, what—”

you hang up before he can say anything and quickly text him.

i’m feeling a little sick tonight, just going to rest early.

sae leaves you on read and you think you’ve fended him off.

you did not.

an hour later, he’s at your door, carrying all your favorite convenience store snacks and a worried expression.

“what is it?” he asks you. you’re a little too stunned to speak. sae lets himself in, placing the snacks on your dining table before he really looks at you, surveying your face. “what were you crying about?”

you suddenly feel stupid for thinking your puffy eyes wouldn’t give you away.

sae tips your chin up when you try to look down. “y/n, tell me,” and he sounds only concerned, and the guilt builds up inside you.

so you tell him—you tell him about your intrusive thoughts as he lets you lay against his chest on the couch. you tell him about your insecurities as he sits in silence and listens. you tell him that you think it’s stupid of you to think this and you’re beginning to think you’re an ass for keeping him up so late when he has training tomorrow morning.

but sae doesn’t feel that. not one bit.

“it’s not stupid,” he tells you, and if you’d been able to see his expression, you’d know that he can never look at anyone the same way he looks at you. “all those girls you’re worried about, they’re nothing compared to you.”

“really?” you sniffle, appreciating the fact that even though he’s horrible at talking emotions, he’s trying his best for you.

sae pulls some hair away from your face and you pull back to get a good look at him. “really, stupid.” you laugh and he laughs, and now you’re really feeling stupid because there’s no way sae would ever choose anyone else over you. would never dream of having any other option.

“promise?”

sae sighs, in that lovingly way he does. “yes, i promise,” and he means it—he’s never thought of being with anyone else. “i love you, don’t i?”

you nod, chuckling because yes, yes he does. and yes, you know that more than anyone. even if it has to be kept under wraps for now; there’s no cause for concern.

when you fall asleep on his chest and sae’s too cautious to wake you up, your mother wakes up to take some water and stumbles upon the sight. she greets sae with a nod and a smile, the softest one he’s seen so far.

“my daughter has good taste.”

“that’s a secret.”

sae’s only getting more and more famous as he gets older. a year later and he’s already garnering attention from everyone, with girls lining up to be a possible mrs itoshi.

you’re still unknown; hidden in the crevices, tucked between pieces of signed contracts. you’re dealing with it, it’s fine. it’s going great, only because you’ve learned to get used to it. it was either that or to call everything off, and you don’t want that.

it’s a friday night and sae’s away for another match, this time in london, and you’re watching post-game interviews on your screen while you finish your pack of chips.

they finally get to sae, throwing the normal obligatory questions like how he feels after winning the match, how he feels like being the man of the match. until they start asking personal questions like who he’d like to dedicate his win to.

he dodges the first few easily with vague answers. but then they get even more personal.

“so, itoshi, rumours have it that you’ve been in a long-term relationship now, is that true?”

you freeze up hearing the question, noticing how sae momentarily looks to the right before he rolls his eyes and turns back to the interviewer.

“maybe,” he answers, and you’re surprised. that’s the first time he’s probably not listened to his publicist.

“now who is this lucky lady?”

sae sighs, “that’s a secret.”

his interview ends there as he retreats back into the locker room, your phone vibrating almost immediately after.

one day i’m gonna show you off to everyone.

you smile as you type your response.

sure you want the whole world to know you belong to me?

you expect a retort about how it’s the other way around, but he does one better.

fuck yes.

“you make me lose my goddamn mind.”

you’re both comfortable, twenty-three and lounging in sae’s apartment, curled up in the couch, fingers intertwined and spending a lazy sunday in.

it’s right smack in the middle of his break and you’ve got him to yourself for four entire months. it’s been good, so good.

everyday you’re reminded of why you love him, of why he’s yours. the way he pulls you back against him in the mornings when you wake up. the way he says your name when he’s sleepy, the raspiness in his voice known only to you.

“hey, i’m heading out for a while,” he tells you, slipping on his slides and unlocking the door.

that’s how it usually goes; you’re still not allowed to admit to your relationship, even if sae has hinted at being in a committed relationship. what his publicist considers as minimising risks is that both of you shouldn’t be seen out in public together. that’s why you’re having fun nights out at odd hours and being romantic in private.

sae often just leaves in the middle of the day, some alone time and maybe get some groceries since you can’t let yourself be seen leaving his apartment. it’s not an ideal situation, but you’ll take it. the last thing you want to do is make his life harder.

while he’s gone, you do the chores—make the bed, defrost some chicken breasts, vacuum, maybe wash the laundry. he’s doing his best to learn the right way to do chores (because one time when you asked him to help vacuum he ended up vacuuming the bathroom too), but you find it’s easier if you just do them instead.

usually he comes back by now, takes about a half an hour because his apartment is nestled in the centre of town, surrounded by all the stores and amenities he could need. but you stare at the clock.

it’s been an hour and a half, what’s he up to?

sae doesn’t even respond when you text him. right as you’re about to call him, worried, you hear his keys jangling and the door opening.

you expected to find him carrying a huge bag of groceries with the amount of time he was gone, but he’s empty-handed and you’re starting to think maybe he was hounded by paparazzi.

“did you have trouble with some press?” you ask innocently, mop in your hand.

sae sighs, “fuck no, thank god.” he toes off his slides and tosses his keys on the dining table, taking his cap off and tousling his hair. his pretty pretty reddish brown locks.

“oh, then where’d you go?”

sae smirks at you this time, hiding something behind his back.

“what’re you up to, itoshi?”

he rolls his eyes because you only call him that when you’re afraid. “relax, baby,” he coos, inching closer to you and revealing what he’s holding.

sae’s holding up your keychain; a mini figurine of sae you got from one of the gift shops during his match. but you spot something that wasn’t there before—a key, painted black like the door to his apartment.

“sae?”

“this key’s yours.”

you blink at him, a little stupefied. “sae, did you get lost while trying to find the key copy place?”

sae clicks his tongue, annoyed. “shut up, do you want this or not?” by the way he’s all red, he did get lost.

you take the key from him, suppressing a grin. “aw thanks, now i can let myself in.”

sae sighs again, “i’m asking you to move in, stupid.”

“y-you want me to move in here?”

“yes.”

“like, you want to see my face everytime you wake up and before you go to bed?”

“yeah.”

“you want me to live here with you, together?”

“yes and if you ask anymore i’ll take it back.” because sae’s aware that you’re asking out of disbelief—he loves his alone time yet here he is, asking you to be with him whenever he’s back home. which isn’t that hard to believe for him; you’re the only one he’d ever want to be alone together with.

you giggle, “okay okay, roomie.”

sae only sighs. “you make me lose my goddamn mind.”

“i don’t want this anymore.”

it’s your fault, it’s all your fault.

sae’s publicist is at the house, screaming at the top of his lungs, and by sae’s unamused expression, he’s not having it. he’s just controlling himself so he doesn’t end up getting a lawsuit filed against him for employee abuse.

“who thinks it’s safe to go out wearing their boyfriend’s jersey, which isn’t even for sale yet by the way,” he rants, staring straight at you, “and go down and buy a birthday cake on his birthday and take it up to his apartment, all while knowing that the press is gonna be camping outside the complex?”

he makes you feel stupid.

sae steps in front of you, his broad shoulders the only thing making you feel safe from his publicist’s constant attack. “you yell at my girl one more time and you’re done,” sae threatens, managing to get his publicist to storm out of the house.

apparently, sae had a big endorsement deal all planned with the one stipulation being that he had to appear a bachelor up until the stunt was over. and now his publicist’s mad because that’s all down the drain and his commissions are gone.

“hey, you okay?” sae asks you, gently, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him.

you’re fine, you’ll get over it. it’s just what his publicist said that gets in your head.

it’s like you’re trying to ruin his deals.

being with a famous pro player comes with some form of caution, you know that right?

she’s just in the fucking way!

weeks pass and it’s not easier to drown out the voices. sae’s good at it, so he’s already moved past it, resumes work as per usual, assumes you’re okay too because of the multitude of times you insisted that you are.

but really? it’s fucking difficult.

if you thought you were insecure before everyone knew about you, it’s ten times worse now. while the majority of people are nice about it, saying wonderful stuff like how the two of you are so sweet and look so good together, there’s still so many people who shit on you.

wait, i thought he was with that model from that one shoot? damn, he got the short end of the stick with his gf lol

lmaooo what a downgrade from that other soccer star he was dating

@itosae you okay, dude? you blind or something?

there’s a lot more than that. a lot. some of them even found your account, messaged you directly and said some less-than-nice things.

you keep it all from sae, though. the last thing you need to do is distract him any further, especially when he has the champions’ league coming up.

“i’m fine, mom,” you say one night when your mother calls to check up on you. “i promise.”

you’re a bad daughter, keeping these from your mother who’s just concerned. she isn’t convinced, but she hangs up anyway afterwards, telling you to rest.

it’s easy for things to spiral when you keep them all to yourself. the voices in your head that belongs to sae’s disgruntled fans growing louder, drowning out the words of affection sae tells you everyday.

until one day you think you can’t take it anymore.

they’re all telling you that you’re not good enough, that you’re just a burden. his publicist is nowhere near your side, instead silently siding with the fans who berate you. sae’s oblivious to it all, you think, because he doesn’t do anything about it.

one day you’re just sitting side by side, watching a movie, sae’s arm around your shoulders, his fingers idly twirling your hair.

“sae, we need to talk.”

like the lover he is, he pauses the movie, adjusting himself to look at you. “yeah, what is it?” he’s smiling at you because he has no idea what’s coming.

and you know, you know if you tell him what you really think that it won’t work, so you put on your best game face. truth be told, you’d been building up to this moment anyway, purposely telling him you’d be busy whenever he’s back from his games just so you won’t spend time together. it was all to give him the illusion that you just weren’t interested anymore, no matter how fucked up that sounds.

“i don’t want this anymore.”

sae furrows his brows. “what? what’s this?”

you sigh, feigning frustration. “this, sae. us. i don’t want this anymore.”

“why not?”

“because i’m tired. i’m tired of dating someone who’s half here and half not, i’m tired of tolerating your stupid habits, i’m tired of being with you, sae.” you’re raising your voice, but sae doesn’t flinch. his expression doesn’t even change. you’re beginning to think you broke him, made him malfunction.

when sae doesn’t say anything, you continue.

“i want to break up.”

sae looks away from you, at the patch of rug on the floor beside him, jaw clenched. he blinks a few times before he looks back at you.

“no.”

now it’s your turn to be confused. “w-what?”

sae tilts his head to the side, concern etched in his expression. “i said no, y/n,” he repeats, sighing. he puts his forefinger under your chin, his thumb caressing the side of your face. “who are you trying to fool?”

“i-i mean what i said, sae.”

you’re in disbelief. you hate how he knows you better than anyone else, maybe better than yourself, and you’re beginning to realise no one can come close to sae for you.

“so you don’t love me anymore? don’t wanna be my girl anymore?” he asks, but it’s redundant because he knows the answers. “i love you, okay? and i’d be a shit boyfriend if i let you go like this.”

you’re speechless, so you don’t say a thing, just sit awkwardly in front of him while for the first time in his life, he resolves to being there for you.

“look, i don’t know what mean things people are saying online, but fuck them,” he tells you.

“sae, it’s not easy,” you sniffle.

“then talk to me, and stop shutting me out, you idiot,” he chastises, and you find yourself falling onto him. “i fired my publicist too, by the way. couldn’t stand him spouting shit about you even after i told him to shut the fuck up.”

you laugh at his exasperation, your chest somehow feeling lighter.

“and, do me a favor? ignore the mean comments, yeah?” sae tells you, softer this time. “i kinda don’t ever wanna lose you, so.” he has his head resting on top of yours, your fingers intertwined and your heart soaring.

until now, you’d thought it’d be easy to drive sae away. you thought if you’d been enough of a nuisance, an eyesore, that he’d just take your word for it and run, that he’d throw a fit and let you leave.

but he doesn’t.

sae stays. and he tells you to stay. because he doesn’t know much about laundry, or how to handle feelings, but what he knows is how to love you. he knows what you need and he knows what you’re thinking, even if he doesn’t necessarily tell you about it.

and sae is a bitch to the world. he’s not the friendliest to fans nor does he care about making friends or enemies.

but to you, he’s everything. he says no to either of you straying and he says yes to whatever you ask except when it doesn’t make sense and you never knew that this was the beauty of being with someone who wants you—in every sense of the word.

there’s a certain threshold to pass before you can see everything clearly. suddenly it’s like the mean voices are faded into the background, and suddenly sae’s love is all you hear, and nothing is blurred because now all you can think about is how even if the world fails you, sae never will.

“hey, sae?”

“mhm?”

“thank you.”

he smiles against your head and you can feel it. “i love you, stupid.”

and you love him; recognising your handwriting and sweeping you off your feet. you love him; braving your parents, living his dreams. you love him; protecting you and showing up at your door. you love him; bashful yearning and unwavering emotions.

so you kiss him in response, and that’s all he needs to know that you’re with him for life.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

Hi maggots, it's Asmi!

It seems we have arrived at That Point again, when I need a new intro post. So here we are! The Official (kidnapped) Good Omens Mascot and uh Maggot Prince has returned with a fresh post.

First, before I talk about myself, here are some important links that people ask me for and I want to make sure they're accessible:

The Official Maggots Server of Doom on Discord: The server of kindness and chaos and brainrot where we just vibe (I promise you'll be welcome there, whoever you are, maggot, so many people who were shy are now screeching at me and I love that). Link here.

Weirdly-Specific-But-Ok The Youtube Channel: Yes, thanks to the 10khaos post, I made a Youtube channel. I intend to cause a lot of chaos on it, I have already begun. Hehe. Link here.

My Ko-fi: Ummmm this exists? Wahoo a Ko-fi. No pressure and I appreciate you all whether you're a silent lurker, causing chaos, supporting me with words or supporting me on Ko-fi. I love you. Link here.

My PO address and email: I'D LOVE TO HEAR FROM YOU, SNAIL MAIL OR MAIL OR OTHERWISE! Link here.

The Good Omens Ad: A lot of you ask me what Good Omens is about. Never fear! I wrote an advertisement for it ages ago, and @1800ineedshelp edited it fabulously. Link here.

Okay I think that's the important parts, I'll edit it later, and now... uh HELLO!

I'm Asmi, I'm 20 years old, he/him, very queer and probably napping at any given moment of the day. Because of a chaotic post, I now have a fandom. My fans, such as they are, are known as maggots. There is a lot of significance behind that (accidentally, I just picked it because it looked like mascot kind of).

I am the Official Good Omens Mascot, because I was kidnapped by the fandom in January after I made a summary post of Good Omens without watching it, just by what I saw on my tumblr dash. I have grown very fond of this title and the fandom, and have since watched the show (some episodes twice).

Also, this blog is a safe space for all queer people, and yes that includes aroace-spec people, trans people, all queer people. If you don't agree with that, there's the door *points to a pit of boiling sulphur*.

ANYWAY YES ENOUGH TALKING WELCOME TO THE CHAOS JUST BE KIND AND RESPECTFUL OF EACH OTHER, BE AS IRREVERENT TO ME AS POSSIBLE, AND WE'LL GET ALONG GREAT. YOU DON'T NEED TO INTERACT TO BE PART OF THIS FAMILY, EVERYONE IS WELCOME! WAHOO!

[if you see talk of spare organs, the Wibbles Incident, Fae kidnapping, Red Bull-induced madness, me thirsting over Crowley etc, don't worry about it, it's normal here. just be careful when gardening and/or fishing is mentioned, it's a trap.]

I LOVE YOU!

[plutosbow]

𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི , tgm — bradley bradshaw x f!reader

`` 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧' , 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧' ? ``

summary: a sunday morning of sleeping in calls for your specialty; half-burnt pancakes. but it's always the effort that charms bradley, anyway.

warnings: none! just some silly fluff and perhaps bradley pining over you (isn't he always?)

note: this is the first little blurb i've decided to flesh out more than others, lmk if i should start posting my stuffs :3, (i don't really know how tumblr works but if anyone has some requests for miles teller characters i'd totally try to do them!)

there was a soft light that beckoned itself into the bedroom, like a staircase to heaven as your dreary-minded eyes followed its path onto bradley's visage. right through the crack in the blind that he always complained about since it only ever reached his side of the bed — that thought made it impossible to stop a smile from tugging at your lips.

his expression twisted in his slumber, eyes wiring tightly shut in a feeble attempt to drown out the warm rays adorning his face. you always felt bad, but thanked the sun silently in the end because it allowed for domestic tidbits like this to be available to you - and only you. shifting at a snail's pace beneath the covers, you leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to his temple before rolling from the warm confines of the bed.

as much as you enjoyed your times of quiet with bradley, you enjoyed treating him to the little things in life even more. a day at home with your boyfriend called for celebration because you knew just as well as him that these moments were fleeting. downtime was barely even a word between the two of you, but that was the price paid when dating a pilot — and unfortunately, he was worth every ounce of worry that plagued you when he walked out the door with death hanging over his head.

but, he was here now. that's what mattered.

you were swift in preparing breakfast, perhaps a bit too swift as you clumsily forgot to spray the pan before pouring pancake batter into it. it spat and hissed at you, like it was wincing in agony and trying to bane you to hell before it died. you couldn't dwell on it, though, not when it still managed to make the kitchen smell like sweet dough and something nostalgic sprinkled in beneath the waft of burning batter.

a second pan was laid down, and this time it was methodical enough to have been prepped for eggs that plopped down into its gentle dip. a much kinder sizzle ensued, earning a satisfied hum from your lips as you went on tending to the curdling pancakes (could they even be called that, now?). the aroma of them crying for help was enough to rouse the grizzly bear from his surprisingly light hibernation — only let on by the groan that was pouty enough to put any sassy teenage girl to shame.

you didn't look back on account of the fact that you were trying not the burn the eggs — not on fire, which was a feat in itself — and you just assumed he would shuffle his way in and groggily mutter something about waking up 'so early', and then plop down at the counter while he waited for the meal. that was too generous of an idea, though, because his former growl from the bedroom had not been out of frustration (well, sort of), but out of a longing for you to have been in bed beside him.

thick, calloused fingers snaked their way around your waist and curled into the tender flesh of your hips, earning a soft hum from your throat. it was a sound that bradley had grown fond of, whether you be pining for his attention or whining at his incessant teasing — he could always count on that sweet, purring hum to fall from those pretty lips.

"my lady, my lady," he rasped, voice dry and scratchy as he recited his little morning mantra. his head dipped down, nose pushing your hair out of the way as his face pressed into your nape. you can't stifle the soft giggle that bubbles up in your throat at the tickle of his mustache and slightly stubbled chin. "i was expectin' .. room service .. on this fine mornin'?"

you scoff with a roll of your eyes, flipping the eggs and using this motion to elbow him in the gut. he tenses and grunts, hands gripping the gentle dip of your hips like they were a safety blanket to him.

"room service costs extra, mister bradshaw," you tut, grabbing the pancake-contaminated spatula to begin painstakingly scraping them off of the poor pan. "and i'll have you know, i am not a cheap commodity." your words earn a low chuckle from his crackling throat, lips migrating from your nape to your ear, his mouth finding your earlobe to give it a small nibble - just innocent enough for a morning like this.

"a high-end gem such as yourself must be making somethin' extravagant, no?" bradley chuffs softly, peeking down at the pans as his chin rested into the dip of your shoulder. he winces idly at the scraping sounds that ensue from your assault on the .. pancakes?.. his brows crease, and he bites his tongue for a moment.

you .. never were the finest cook in the world.

bradley found that worth more than any perfect dish.

"hm," he clicks his tongue before you even had a chance to respond, "flapjacks with a side of black tar 'n soppen eggs; gourmet." the pilot cooed, making you laugh and frown simultaneously at his unfiltered jab at your skills. you always knew the effort payed off more in his eyes than the actual taste of the food (thank goodness). you flip the ashy, flaking pancakes onto a plate and try tending to the barely edible eggs, but it seems all too lost as you resort to just turning the burner off.

even though you knew he never minded your ineptitude in the kitchen, it was moreso a personal duel when it came to your absentminded degradation over your failures.

"good-lookin'," came that husky voice, tinged with slight guilt after realizing you hadn't responded to his silly jab after some time now. a hand trails up your abdomen to let the pad of his thumb run along the edge of your jaw. you can't see his face, but one can assume his brows are quirked in silent question with a hint of a plea in hopes you'll forgive him (silly. over something that never even hurt you to begin with). it earns a soft giggle from somewhere in your chest.

"i bought extra syrup last errand run to make sure you can drown out the taste of mustard gas, my love." you hum, swaying a bit as you shift away from the counter and squirm around to finally face your big ol' grizzly bear. at your words, that exact expression you expected to see from before quickly lightened. a crooked grin curled up on his stupidly kissable lips and his head tilted almost expectantly.

"maybe i like my breakfast with a lil' bit of radioactivity." bradley retorts before burying his face into your neck, letting his stache poke at your flesh and make you squeal and wiggle around. now satisfied at your ticklish state, he grumbles something inaudible and presses open-mouthed kisses against your exposed collarbone. his tongue is too dry to really give you the full effect, so he compensates and gives your ass a good and satisfying squeeze.

you squeak at that, letting one hand curl into his tousled up locks while the other drifts down his bare back. he keens at the sensation of you tugging his hair, broad arms consuming you further like a moth to a flame — your body a burning star in his foggy vision. he keeps kissing, not lingering long enough to suck against the skin but it fills you with contentment anyway, because the softness of the embrace is far more fulfilling than sex could ever be in that moment.

he was more desperate than a starved dog, it showed in the way his grasping motions along your body were so fervent yet .. straining to be tame. your thumb rubbed against his scalp and you sway absently along the kitchen tiles with him, breakfast merely an afterthought as your bodies consume one another in their loving warmth.

"missin' ya so much. all the time, sweetheart." bradley murmurs, hoarse voice tugged by the vulnerability rearing its ugly head in his heart. you crane your neck and hum softly, lips pressing into his temple to leave a warm, wet kiss in their wake. it was an action that always hushed his aching mind when it was on the cusp of spiraling, something only you could ever do for him — a jockey who soothes their racehorse that froths at the mouth before each race.

"i'll always be here, honey. always gonna make you shitty breakfast, always gonna tolerate that loud mouth a' yours." you mumble against his prickly, stubbled face. the soft, whiney sigh that slips from his lips reassures you that your words, in fact, soothed the raging stallion in your grasp.

his mouth latches onto your collarbone once more, this time lingering for a beat too long and making a suctioned pop as he pulled back. cloudy hazel eyes peer down at you while his dry tongue flicks out for a second of thought.

"go lay down, sugar," bradley mutters - his voice stirring from deep within his rasped throat. it managed to make a familiar warmth bubble up in your stomach. ".. 'm gonna pour myself a cup of orange juice and give you some good goddamn art on this blank canvas 'a mine."

that thought alone makes you chew the corner of your lip to suppress a stupid, cheeky smirk, and you scurry off before he gets a chance to question you and your unbridled excitement for the mere opportunity to be adorned in his artwork (he never called those methodical hickeys of his anything different).

you can't help the fuzzy sensation that begins to pour down from your heart and sift into each crevice of your innards. you can't even recall the last time the two of you started off a morning so soft and tender, and it makes you pause in the hallway to glance at bradley while he looks through the fridge. a quick double take, just to make sure.

he was here.

and oh, he was so pretty, goddamnit.

PART 2 HERE !!

[jayparked]

go big or go home | lee heeseung / nishimura riki

PAIRING:pitcher!heeseung / batter!riki x concession worker!female reader GENRE: comedy AU: strangers to ???, love triangle, baseball RATING: 18+ (my blog is 18+ but this is sfw) WORD COUNT: 4.2k WARNINGS: strong language, riki is kinda an egotistical jerk LOL, old man heeseung with creaky joints, good ol rivalry (i might be missing more) A/N: SURPRISE!! i kept staring at the photos when the boys visited my home town and went to a mariners game and then boom this idea bloomed in between writing my other wips! also omg what snail posts a fic that isn't just porn without plot??? craazzzyyyyy. anyways i love baseball, i grew up going to mariners games (maybe jay and i were at the same game at one point sfjkaldj) anyways i'm rambling this is a different writing style than what i normally do but thought i would experiment a bit! i hope you enjoy it ♡ SPECIAL THANK YOU TO: @sungbeams for making this sexy banner and for helping me figure out some details in this fic ily always

It's the bottom of the fifth inning and Heeseung cannot wait for the day to be over. It's hot, more so than ever before and it feels like he has to wipe the sweat off his forehead every twenty seconds or so. Soon enough, he won't be able to see where he's pitching.

Spitting out a buffalo flavored sunflower seed to his right, he re-positions his cap, nearly taking over his eyebrows. It can't possibly go any lower and he's wasting valuable time stalling with it.

The catcher has been throwing out basic plays that Heeseung has seen and done a million times. The kid knows his pitcher can't throw a decent changeup or slider anymore due to years of muscle strain and poor self care habits. Hell, it’s even difficult for him to throw an accurate knuckleball now. His specialty has switched to a ninety-seven mile-per-hour fastball. At least, that’s how fast it was two years ago.

The mitt smells sour against Heeseung’s nose as he finally nods his head, accepting his teammate's suggestion for a basic splitter. The catcher, Yang Jungwon, readies himself, rocking his body slightly as his knees adjust, giving his own mitt a few playful smacks as he does so.

Deep breath, the roar of the crowd stills into a faint white noise in the pitcher's mind as he lowers the mitt and the ball to his chest. As a pitcher, it's important to have a signature move. Something subtle, yet eye-catching that drives the fans crazy. Some have claimed his technique is too predictable; but those who comment, aren't usually the ones on the field.

Heeseung rocks back his left shoulder, his right rolling up towards his ear before making a rowing motion with the mitt and ball back to the right, the ball in his left hand leaving the comforts of the mitt. Left knee kicking up in front of his body, Heeseung releases his breath and winds up, the last of his energy exploding as the ball leaves his hand and spirals down towards home.

"STEEEEERIKE THREE! YOOOOU’RE OUT!"

Stomping feet of the fans in the stadium and the inspiring roars of his teammates from the dugout fills Heeseung's ears all at once. When he was first starting out in his career, all the excitement would make him jump right there on the mound. Now, the noise is comforting and he smiles fondly to himself. At this point, it's hard to concentrate without it.

Two batters down. One to go.

The next player that approaches the plate is someone Heeseung has been excited to compete against. With stats higher than any fresh new recruit the league has ever seen, Nishimura Riki is a force to be reckoned with. It’s midseason of the kid’s first year. Riki has never struck out. The batter struts out of the dugout with the bat over his shoulders, taking long, slow strides towards the plate with his chin held high.

The breeze picks up as Heeseung uses his mitt to hide his face, discreetly popping in some more sunflower seeds into his mouth, concentrating hard on Riki's broad, wide, confident stance. The kid is glaring right at Heeseung, the bat now held just next to his left ear, raising an eyebrow with a smirk.

Rolling his shoulder a couple of times, Heeseung tries to ignore the growing ache inside his joint or the way his smile is naturally pulling into a frown. It helps to see that Yang has a newfound fire in his eyes, his first-hand signal is one Heeseung hasn’t seen in a very long time. And oh, does that simple hand signal excite the fuck out of the pitcher.

“Let’s take this newbie back old school style.” Heeseung chuckles to himself, his mitt covering his mouth as he gives a short nod to Yang.

The ritual restarts.

“STEEEEERIKE ONE!” The umpire hollers. The crowd screams as the tension builds in the stadium. Riki has had strikes before, so Heeseung isn’t phased by the hype of the crowd. Unless he smiles, they think that he will be the pitcher to knock the kid down a few pedestals. Riki did have a delayed swing reaction for that first pitch which isn’t how he usually reacts at base.

Yang quickly tosses a new ball to Heeseung.

Wasting no time, he winds up again, this time with a little more gusto and confidence laced in his fingertips.

"STEEEEEERIKE TWO"

Pride swells quickly in Heeseung's chest, how could it not? Riki grimaces, stepping back from the plate and hitting the end of his bat against his cleats. This time, he swung too early. Heeseung watches as the batter rolls his neck, shaking his upper body before comically bouncing up and down - the same way Heeseung used to do. Stepping back up to the plate, Riki sticks his tongue into the side of his cheek and narrows his eyes at Heeseung.

Another ball is tossed to Heeseung who catches it casually and without much effort, barely even giving it a glance.

The sun feels warm at the nape of Heeseung's neck and on his forearms. He’s definitely walking away from this with a wicked sunburn and he just knows the long bath he’ll sink into later will feel so nice on his aching bones and singed skin. It's the perfect weather for a game. It's the perfect weather to win a game.

And, for the final time (he hopes), Heeseung winds up to pitch. Every muscle in his body feels relaxed and ready as he eyes his target: the center of Yang's mitt.

Right as Heeseung is about to release the ball from his hand, there's a yell in the crowd.

"COTTON CANDY! GET YA COTTON CANDY HERE! FIVE SMACK-A-ROONIES! COTTON CANDY!"

For just a moment, Heeseung looks to see where the noise is coming from. A girl is waving around blue and pink bags of cotton candy above her head. By the drastic movement of her jaw, Heeseung guesses she's chewing a big wad of gum. She tosses a pink bag towards a man in the middle of a row and collects the money promptly. Something about her energy is captivating, hell, the way her voice was even able to carry out all this way past the roar of the crowd is something Heeseung has never seen before in all his years on this mound.

And then, she turns towards the field.

It feels like time stills as Heeseung notices her features. With long hair swooped up in a messy bun, held captive by a home team baseball cap, the craziness of all the wisps floating with the breeze somehow makes the features of her face stand out even more. She’s smiling wide with each short interaction with the customers around her, glancing to the field every now and then to see the action going on. Every time she turns to the field, her eyes glisten slightly and that smile widens.

She's absolutely beautiful.

He feels it– the quiver throughout his body making him lose his focus. The baseball leaves Heeseung's fingertips all too soon as that quiver offsets the direction of the pitch. Riki watches the ball confused as it thumps against the green tarp just about five feet to the left of home base.

Silence.

"Raaah!" Heeseung yells and kicks at the mound, coughing instantly as the dirt rises up to his mouth. Everyone in the arena is confused as to what just happened. Heeseung has thrown walks before, sure, but nothing even close to this drastically bad.

Then suddenly, Yang calls for a timeout and runs up to the mound to meet Heeseung.

"Dude, Lee, what the hell just happened? Is it your shoulder?" His voice sounds muffled behind his catching mitt that covers his lips.

Words escape Heeseung, but his mouth moves anyways. Inaudible sounds manage to sneak out and Yang stares at him with a concerned look in his face before waving one of their coaches over.

Mitt also in front of his face, the coach tries to find his words before blurting, "What's going on? I've never seen a pitch that bad since we tried you out for pitcher." The coach laughs as he bumps shoulders with Yang who only grimaces back.

"I don't know, Coach, I think he's having a stroke or something." Concerned, Yang sticks out a finger and aims to poke at Heeseung's nose.

Heeseung shakes his head and grabs Yang's finger, pushing him away, still not meeting the younger player's eyes.

The coach follows Heeseung's line of sight and immediately smacks the pitcher on his non-throwing arm. "A girl? You have got to be shitting me right now. You are not being paid to ogle at stadium workers! Acting like a real rookie right now, Lee. Get your shit together, you’re about to make history!"

Heeseung barely feels the smack. He's too busy looking at the girl juggling massive bags of cotton candy like a professional. There's a wave of grace as she rolls a pink bag of fluff down one arm and into her hand, only to flick it towards a customer seconds later. Fascinated, Heeseung has never seen anything quite like it. She’s not like the other concession workers he’s seen throughout his years; one’s that always have that dark cloud following around them as they sluggishly drag their feet around the stadium rows. Strands of hair from her bun are coming undone, the wind slowly untangling the strands with each gentle push.

Finally, she turns towards the field again.

Underneath his team’s cap, her eyes flick to meet his.

She doesn't stay facing them long, yelling about cotton candy left and right, customers eagerly trying to get her attention. As she spins around, Heeseung feels like fainting seeing his name painted in bold letters on the back of her baseball jersey, his lucky number 49 also printed largely on the back.

The air suddenly feels stiff and musky. Heeseung feels sweatier than before and can't seem to focus on the words his coach and teammates are saying to him, a smile blooming on his face meanwhile his cheeks start to burn, and it’s definitely not from the sun.

"AYO, Lee!"

Heeseung shakes his head and turns his attention back towards home base, instantly annoyed at the sight of the batter, Riki. The newbie has his shiny oak bat resting on his shoulders, one hip casually jutting out, looking bored as ever. Heeseung can see from the mound how flat Riki's eyes look as the younger man smacks his bubblegum.

"We gonna play some ball or something?" Riki waves a hand up in an annoyed fashion.

Clenching his jaw, Heeseung nods his head, prompting Yang and the coach to head back to their spots.

Two strikes. One ball. It's an easy out at this point. Heeseung has the rage fueling him and he always throws faster and harder when there's something to target. Plus, it would be pretty cool if he could strike out the un-strikable in front of the pretty girl.

Stealing one last glance, Heeseung sees the cotton candy girl leaning against the metal banister upfront and close to the field. She's focusing hard on Heeseung with an intensity he has never seen before. It's clear she's looking at him, waiting for something to happen.

Gulping down a lump of nerves, the angry fire that was bubbling within quickly becomes dormant.

Wind up. Breathe.

Release.

Riki swings, catching the baseball with the tip of the bat. Instead of going forward, the ball spirals behind him. A perfect foul.

Two balls, two strikes.

When it comes down to the wire like this, Heeseung feels his strongest. And the intensity coming from Riki only reminds Heeseung of how it used to be when he was first starting out in the league: exhilarating, adrenalizing, a never-ending insatiable hunger. Heeseung sees that same drive in the batter in front of him. It’s rejuvenating to see that raw emotion can still exist in the newcomers. 

Hopefully, for the final time, Heeseung winds up and prepares to strike out Nishimura Riki’s ego for good.

It couldn’t have been a more perfect pitch. The baseball leaves Heeseung’s fingers tingling with the sheer force of the throw. When his leg kicks up from the momentum of the throw, Heeseung can feel the speed of the ball as it barrels in a perfect line towards Yang’s mitt.

So, imagine Heeseung’s anger and confusion when the ball sinks into the catcher’s mitt and the umpire is dead silent.

Uproars from the home team fans go crazy with insults as replay after replay shows on the jumbo screens. 

“Timeout! Timeout!” The coach of Heeseung’s team yells furiously as he runs onto the field. The coach grabs Heeseung by the arm and drags him to the dugout, quickly thrusting a water bottle into Heeseung’s hands and puts an ice pack on his shoulder. Heeseung winces at the impact, his sun kissed skin not prepared for the harsh contrast so quickly.

“Fucking umpires I swear they’re out to protect this Nishimura’s reputation. That was a strike if I’ve ever seen one! A textbook, picture perfect strike!” The coach enunciated the words with his pointer finger jamming into his other palm, and continues to grumble as he applies more pressure to Heeseung’s shoulder.

The cold does feel great against his joints after a moment, but sitting inside the dugout does not feel ideal. He’s not meant to be a bench warmer, especially not in the middle of an intense moment. Walking away from the mound has anxiety bubbling deep within his chest. He’ll rest after all of this is good and over with, no matter the outcome. So, wordlessly, Heeseung waves his coach off, takes the water bottle, takes a long swig, stepping back onto the field wiping the corners of his mouth with the back of his hand.

The feeling of the ice-cold water going down his throat felt more refreshing than he was expecting as his eyes gaze around the field, casually trying to find the girl from earlier.

Unknowingly, Heeseung walks closer to home base before finding the cotton candy girl just a few rows away. She looks beautiful as she smiles at the customers, the pinks and blues of the cotton candy bringing out the blush in her face and the sparkle in her eyes. Heeseung leans against the padded wall, reaching into his pocket to pop a few more sunflower seeds into his mouth.

Following Heeseung's glance, Riki scoffs and turns back to him. "Really? The cotton candy girl? Buddy, friend, you do realize what kind of people we are right? We have million-dollar contracts. She makes minimum wage. Those classes don't mix."

Heeseung has never been more grateful and proud of his own self-control than in this moment. If he were any other place, he would have socked Riki right in the jaw with as much might as humanly possible. Preferably right in the spot where the edge of his smile forms a lined dimple. Instead, he spits out the sunflower seed shells as close to Riki as he can without it being called unfair sportsmanship. The kid doesn’t even notice.

"Despite the class difference, I guess she is kind of cute," the younger boy continues, "I wonder if she's ever dated a baseball player before." There's something hidden behind that seemingly harmless statement, challenging almost, and Heeseung has a weird feeling, enough to make the hair stand on the back of his neck and his nose to scrunch.

Wordlessly, Heeseung looks back and forth between the cotton candy girl and Riki.

"What's it gonna be, old man? Do you really think she would pick you over me?" The kid laughs and adjusts his helmet to fit over his ear better, squaring up to bat and locking gazes with the pitcher. 

Unspoken words thrash across the field between the two players while Heeseung walks back towards the mound, tired of waiting for his coaches to be done bickering with the umpires. He can't decide if he wants to call the rookie's bluff or not.

Actions speak louder than words, Heeseung tells himself and casually throws the ball into his mitt a couple of times, finding a rhythm that feels right. Riki is still waiting for him, the umpire now back in place and Heeseung’s coach fuming against the railing in the dugout.

Quiet.

Suddenly, the ball is no longer in Heeseung's hands.

It's like he blinked and didn't even feel his body move. But Yang has left his crouched position and is picking up the baseball on the far, far right side of home plate.

Heavy groans arise from the sea of fans, growing louder and louder as their doubt in Heeseung sets in more permanently. There’s a faint sting in his wrist that makes him want to shake it vigorously.  That wouldn’t go unnoticed by the coach, though, so he refrains. 

Looking at the sky, Heeseung immediately notices a change in the weather. The sky is now filled with dark purplish clouds, casting a dark shadow over the field. At first, it seems that the universe is mocking him, telling him that his wonder years have officially come to an end. But then, a flash of white lights up the sky, and Heeseung’s melancholy attitude fills with annoyance.

“God dammit!” 

Maybe it was a one time strike. Maybe no one else saw it. If there’s lightning they will cancel the game immediately. And that means he won’t be able to see the look on Riki’s face once he finally strikes him out.

For a few moments, nothing happens and it seems like the perfect chance for Heeseung to wind up again. As quickly as the thought came to mind, another streak of lightning hits the sky, this time, more noticeable than the first. To make matters worse, Heeseung is hit in the forehead with a juicy raindrop, the contents sliding down his nose and across his cheek.

“Everyone, due to unforeseen weather, we will have to postpone the rest of this game. Please evacuate safely to your vehicles. Updated game information can be found on our website-”

Shaking his head, Heeseung walks off the mound and heads towards the locker rooms. 

Up ahead, he sees Riki leaning against the wall with one elbow, his other hand placed on his hip. There’s a look in his eyes that makes Heeseung follow where the rookie is looking. Devastation hits when he sees that Riki is flirting with the cotton candy girl.

Jogging over, Heeseung can feel the rain increase in intensity, his jersey starting to cling to his skin.

“This lighting is way too dangerous, babe. Why don’t you and I get out of here? I’ll keep you safe.”

Heeseung wants to gag at Riki’s words. The younger generation just has no problem being so blunt these days.

“Have a little class, rookie,” Heeseung grits his teeth before turning to the cotton candy girl, “I can walk you to your car. You’d probably be safer with the lightning than with this guy.”

“Says the old geezer,” Riki laughs, “she’d be walking you to your car if anything!”

Tired of the old man jokes, Heeseung can’t help but jut his lower lip forward as he says, “I’m only a few years older than you, you know. Just because I’ve been in the game longer than you’ve held a baseball means nothing.”

Taking his elbow off the wall, Riki faces Heeseung fully, setting his shoulders back as he sizes up his opponent.

“You’re just mad that I got to Y/n before you did. Yeah, that’s right,” Riki crosses his arms over his chest and takes a few more steps towards Heeseung with a newfound smugness on his face, “I learned her name before you could even guess it.”

“Oh, yeah? If you think you’re so in, then why is she wearing a jersey with my name and number on it?”

The next five minutes are a blur of insults and jabs between Heeseung and Riki, the cotton candy girl long forgotten while the rain comes down harder. Heeseung has never been in a fight with someone like this before, and, in the back of his mind, he’s kind of worried about if Riki is the type to get physical or not. Heeseung definitely can’t afford to injure his shoulder more than he already has throughout his years in the game. Even just bruising his knuckles would throw him out for the rest of the season. 

Their voices increase with the sound of the thunder.

“You two!” Heeseung’s coach yells from the other side of the field. “Quitcha arguing and get to safety! I’ll be damned if my best pitcher gets electrocuted on the field!”

Smugly, Heeseung turns to Riki, raising an eyebrow as he soaks in the unintentional praise from one of the world’s most decorated coaches. Success hits when Riki furrows his brow, his mouth tightening to a white line with frustration.

Victory won in his own mind, Heeseung turns to say something to the cotton candy girl, only to find that she’s long gone.

Riki is also looking around him, annoyance evident on his face as his tongue pokes the insides of his cheek, his jaw muscles setting a little stronger than usual.

“You…” Riki growls and swiftly reaches for Heeseung’s jersey, fisting the material tightly as the younger player tries to find the right words to express his anger. Defensively, Heeseung grabs at Riki’s biceps, trying his best to hold him at bay. He really doesn’t want to fight in the middle of a lightning storm over a girl who isn’t even around to witness the outcome.

As more players are leaving the field, making jokes at the two guys about to pummel each other, Riki loosens his grip, his gaze focused on the other side of the field.

Heeseung barely sees you walking away from the field with someone else beside you.

Riki still holds onto the front of Heeseung's jersey, but Heeseung has since dropped his arms to his sides as he sees one of his own outfielders reach for the cotton candy girl's hand, lifting it, and pressing a soft kiss to her skin.

"She's...laughing..." Heeseung pouts, his shoulders drooping slightly. Another crack of thunder booms lightly in the distance, closer than the previous one.

Riki finally turns around, promptly releasing Heeseung from his grasp. "Damn," he mutters as watches, “guess she does date baseball players.”

"You guys didn't know?" Laughs one of Heeseung's teammates. "They're engaged, bro. Have been for a couple of months now." He pats Heeseung and Riki on the back simultaneously before walking off, not even turning as he waves his hand goodbye.

Disbelief and embarrassment overwhelm Heeseung all at once as he watches you leave towards the stadium doors with Jongseong. Before this point, Heeseung had barely paid any attention to the outfielder. His skills were average at best, his batting stats about the same, he wasn’t great enough to be a fan favorite, but also not bad enough to be the outrage of the fans and team. They’ve never really connected on a personal level either and have just kept things professional these past few years. And it just doesn’t make sense how someone as average as Park Jongseong could find love and not himself.

Noticing the cease in your bickering, the cotton candy girl turns back to them with a wide smile, “Now you guys can walk each other to your cars! Be safe!” She yells and winks, turning back to her fiance.

“Maybe she’s allergic to greatness,” Riki tuts, shaking his head before adjusting his hat. His hair is greasy from sweat and rain, curling at the ends. 

Wordlessly, Heeseung begins to walk towards the locker rooms, Riki following close behind despite having his own team’s locker room behind him. The first few trickles of rain glide down the nape of Heeseung’s neck, leaving him feeling chilled and uncomfortable. Something about what Riki said keeps playing over and over again in his mind. And the more he thinks about it, the angrier he gets.

“If she’s happy, let her be happy. Maybe he’s great in her eyes and has more going for him outside of this stupid game.”

Riki scoffs and laughs, barely stopping before he continues towards the locker room.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, old man. Just know the next game, I won’t be going easy on you. And there sure as hell won’t be any lightning or girls to stop me.” He turns to flash a toothy grin at Heeseung, who can’t help but laugh in return. There’s a fire in the kid's eyes, one that Heeseung remembers he himself had when he first started out. It’s become more of a rare thing to see; genuine passion from newbies who are in it for more than just fame, money, and status.

With that realization, Heeseung can’t help but feel some sort of respect for the obnoxious guy.

It’s too bad he’s on a rival team, Heeseung thinks. Imagine the chaos the two of them could have created if they were on the same team, how well they could push each other.

“Until next time! You better bring it!”

“Only if that’s a promise, old man!”

♡ pls like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed! ♡ masterlist ♡ all rights reserved jayparked 12/14/24 do not copy, repost, or translate

[planetpedri]

Hi! Would it be possible to request fluff with Cole Palmer, like a lazy morning in bed when he doesn't have training and then getting up to make breakfast together? I love your work sm

Mornings like this — Cole Palmer.

Pairing: Cole Palmer x Fem!Reader

Summary: You loved when Cole didn’t have training. It meant you got to have a normal day together, doing normal things like cook breakfast together without needing to rush.

Word count: 620+

Disclaimer/s: Fluffy + banter !

A/N: I’m finally going through my reqs heyyy

Sun seeping through your curtains had to be the most annoying thing. On Cole’s rare day off, you two liked to sleep in, but the sun had a vendetta against you, clearly. Your boyfriend shifted behind you with a groan, nuzzling his face into the nape of your neck.

“How many times do I have to beg you to get blackout curtains?” He grumbles, his voice raspy with sleep.

A small breath of laughter escapes your lips. “Baby, if you want them so bad, you can buy them.”

Cole’s eyes fluttered open, an amused grin on his lips when his eyes met yours. “Fine. Today, we go get them today.”

Shuffling around to face him, you nod in agreement. “Breakfast first though. Are we in the mood for anything specific? I would kill for Belgian waffles.”

“Do we have flour?” Cole quirks an eyebrow, “because if we do, then we can make some, but I want bacon.”

“Bacon and waffles is an odd combo, but i’m so down.” You sit up, stretching your arms and back. “Okay, I need to go to the bathroom first, i’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

The man nods, climbing out of bed alongside you. He goes to place a kiss on your lips, but you dodge him. “Oh.. we need to brush our teeth first.”

His lips purse and he has to suppress a groan, but nods in agreement anyways. So instead of making his way to the kitchen, he follows you to the bathroom.

After your morning routine was done and you both make your way into the kitchen, you begin preparing for breakfast cooking. You both move in slow motion, too tired to make a hasty breakfast like you usually would on his training days.

“Pass me the measuring cups?” You sigh, putting your hand out patiently.

Cole steps away from the stove where he was making his bacon to grab the cups. Handing them to you, he goes back to where he was previously.

Your phone was connected to a speaker, playing soft tunes while the two of you cooked. “Ay, can I have a drink?”

Your lips pull into a frown. You’d just poured the perfect cup of orange juice. Reluctantly, you hand your boyfriend the glass. “Don’t drink it all, Cole.” You point at his accusatorially, which he feigns offense at before taking two large gulps just in spite.

You gasp, resisting the urge to lunge at him. “Hey! What did I say? You’re such a—“

“Woah!” He laughs, “watch it!”

“A loving, kind, boyfriend.” You grit through a forced smile, “hand it over.” Your boyfriends laughter echoed throughout the kitchen as he hands you the now half empty cup.

Once breakfast had been made, you two sit down at the table across from each other. “So, we go get curtains at around one, and then stop at the new café down the road? I want to try it, your sister said it’s amazing.”

Cole hums, “after that can we stop by the mall? I want to get a new hoodie.”

“You have like��five thousand. Why do you need another?” Your lip curls into a teasing grin.

“Yeah, and so why is my closet empty? Oh, should we go take a peek in yours?” He shoots back. Your smug look falters. Well. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“Oh, shut up.” You huff. “New hoodie, got it.”

The rest of the morning goes smoothly, both of you showering and getting ready for the day at a snails pace. You were grateful for his days off, they always made for the perfect lazy days. Plus, any extra time with Cole was time well spent, no matter how productive.

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in any of my posts.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby !

[matchalovertrait]

It's been such a hectic day for these four! Ángel took Dulce's family out to explore Del Sol Valley, so nobody else has any idea about what has been happening after the court session ended.

NOTE: Guys, I've been working overtime to make this all come together 😭 Also, the story is moving at a snail's pace, but I wanted this to line up around Halloween time. The pacing should pick back up after the trial ends. I imagine we'll also see more gameplay posts instead of these more dialogue-heavy posts.

Transcript

ANTONIO: Hurry, we’re already late.

DULCE: We’re 10 minutes early!

YOLTIC: The Beehive is closed! But for you two? I’ll always make an exception.

DANIELA: He’s leaving out how excited he is to dress you guys up.

ANTONIO: Still, thanks for doing this so suddenly. I’m still not sure why she insists on a “Professional Team-Building Costume-Test Montage”? We just need costumes with masks.

YOLTIC: Oh, lighten up a bit!

DULCE: Antonio was saying how Yoltic wouldn’t be up for this because “he doesn’t like shenanigans,” but Yoltic always complains about rude and snobby people.

DANIELA: Both are things that describe Caruso. Anyway, you can’t steal something that belongs to you, right?

DULCE: Exactly. Still, we need to take precautions.. I guess. And focus on things like “team-building.”

DANIELA: Luckily you know two geeky cosplayers who own a lot of clothes and costumes.

YOLTIC: Are you going to let me put some light makeup on you?

ANTONIO: Light. I don’t like having anything on my face.

YOLTIC: Can I pierce your ears?

ANTONIO: No. Dude, I’m a lawyer.

YOLTIC: Ugh, you’re ruining my visions.

DULCE: Any ideas on what we should dress up as?

DANIELA: A LOT! Vampires, mummies, pretty dolls...

[plaguedocboi]

hello there so. this might sound weird and i do not expect you to remember it but a while back you mentioned cone snails filter feeding with mucus nets and this fact has stuck in my head pretty firmly. You know, extremely cool thing for a snail to do tbh. However. I recently found out about worm snails (exceptional beasts) an apparently they do that as well? It might be that either you got these mixed up with the cones or that my memory is playing tricks on me. that or both snails do that. If you happened to remember the source of that cone snail fact i would be much obliged <3 By the way i read that the worm snails can make quite a mess with those nets and make corals' lives harder, and that there is a species of crab symbiotic to these corals that has learned to clean this mess up. which. i thought thats cool. anyway have a great day and feel free to reply directly if you don't feel like posting this on your blog

I don’t remember saying that exactly, but I do remember mentioning that cone snails have a “net” mouthpart that they use to engulf prey much bigger than you’d expect. But they definitely don’t filter feed, they’re all predators.

I may have said something similar about another animal, the caddisfly larvae, who cast out underwater silk nets to catch organic material and small animals in the rivers where they live.

But yes!! Worm snails are so weird and they do use a mucus net to catch tiny animals!

And although you don’t see it often since they’re usually buried, their shells are super crazy!

[gmax-centiskorch]

Mainline Pokémon Games Based on How Buggy They Are: A Thread

Red, Blue, & Yellow

Pretty buggy. The Butterfree line set the stage for regional bugs and emotional trauma. Everybody loves Scyther. Inspired use of Cordyceps when designing the Parasect line. Kabuto and Kabutops should have been Bug to honor trilobites for founding Arthropoda. 8/10.

Gold, Silver, & Crystal

Yes, we had Scyther, but what about second Scyther? Scizor, Heracross, and Shuckle are legends. Game Freak decided to invite arachnids (Spinarak and Ariados) to the party, truly redefining what it means to be buggy. 9/10.

Ruby, Sapphire, & Emerald

This generation is loaded with bugs! Game Freak realized their mistake in not giving the Kabutops line Bug typing, making up for it with Anorith and Armaldo (who are based on Anomalocaris). They fumble the recovery, however, in not only depriving the Flygon line of Bug typing, but forever making them second fiddle to the Salamence line. The Beautifly, Dustox, and Ninjask lines introduce some interesting approaches to Bug-type evolution. Volbeat and Illumise are there. 7.8/10.

Diamond, Pearl, & Platinum

DELELELELELEWHOOOOOOP! A smaller collection of bugs this gen, but a well-rounded one. Vespiquen slays. Scorpions get some love via Skorupi, Drapion, and Gliscor. Writing this post is making me realize that slugs, snails, and nudibranchs like the Magcargo and Gastrodon lines aren’t bugs. We grew up thinking snails were bugs, right? Anyway, Yanmega rules. 8/10.

Black, White, Black 2, White 2

Game Freak’s magna opera. Truly the buggiest games there are. While you have to wait until Pinwheel Forest to encounter your first bugs, you’re rewarded upon arrival with Sewaddle and Venipede, the larvae of the Leavanny and Scolipede lines. From there, you encounter the Crustle, Galvantula, and Volcarona lines. Game Freak has some more fun with Bug evolutions, having Karrablast steal Shelmet’s armor as they evolve into Escavalier and Accelgor (inspired by the real-world interactions between the ground beetle family Carabidae and the gastropods they feed on). Durant is our first proper ant, and we get our first (and only . . . ) legendary / mythical Bug in Genesect. These games made Bug my favorite type. 10/10.

X & Y

A big step down from the previous generation. This game hardly has any bugs. Do you like butterflies? You get a butterfly. Vivillon is a lovely butterfly that comes in all sorts of colors, but SURELY there are more bugs than that in France. 6/10.

Sun, Moon, Ultra Sun, Ultra Moon

Giant isopods! Diving bell spiders! Giraffe stag beetles! A true return to form. While the native bugs of Alola are great, we are also introduced to the ultra beasts, two of which (Buzzwole and Pheromosa) are really cool bugs. It seems they were going for wasps and bee flies when designing the Naganadel and Ribombee lines, but they don’t really work for me. Faint blemishes on an otherwise buggy generation. 8.5/10.

Sword & Shield

Centiskorch is the greatest Pokémon ever made. I have them tattooed on my arm. Blipbug is the worst Pokémon ever made. I see them in my nightmares. Interesting that they’re both Bug Pokémon, and that Game Freak really min-maxed with them. Fortunately, Blipbug evolves into Dottler and Orbeetle, who are great. Snom has a place in everyone’s heart, and Frosmoth is elegant as can be. 9.5/10.

Scarlet & Violet

I love Rellor and Rabsca! I . . . don’t really love the rest! Iron Moth and Slither Wing are great, but they’re nepo babies. Tarountula and Nymble are nice, but Spidops and Lokix leave something to be desired. Orthworm is a a big worm. At the end of the day, these games would be alright if they weren’t so wonkily coded and glitchy. Wish there was a better word for that. 7/10.