#in order for kids like this to be embarrassed they’d need a brain cell and a shred of humility

[explode-this]

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found the richtok anon was talking about omg

[troublesomeshika]

After all this time, I'm still into you

shikamaru nara x reader word count: 2k warnings: i think there’s one swear word?

You two had grown up together. You’d been the yin to his yang, that was the joke you two always heard. You had energy for days, and he was the laziest person in the village. Although you were able to get him moving, he somehow always managed to get you to mellow out. You were the only one who could pull Shikamaru from his spot cloud watching and force him to play ninja with you. He was the only one able to talk you out of your crazy ideas. He held you back from danger, and you pushed him out of his comfort zone. It was a perfectly balanced friendship.

In your academy days, you were able to keep Shikamaru paying attention in class, even if he did sleep for most of it. He likely wouldn’t have passed without you there by his side, bouncing your leg throughout the class. And whenever you’d get too excited to focus, he was able to ground you and make you concentrate on your work. Once you were placed on separate teams, it was harder to keep up your friendship, but something drew you back time and again, and it seemed to be the same for him. He’d see you running around the village and convince you to take the rest of the day off to watch clouds with him. You’d check up on him if you hadn’t seen him around, usually finding him napping. Forcing him to spar with you was the easiest way to get him up and moving, even if he did beat you most times. He knew how you fought, and even if you knew how he fought, you weren’t really one for complicated plans of attack. You weren’t quite as bad as Naruto, but you also weren’t hard to predict. The loser always bought lunch afterwards, and more often than not, your wallet was lighter after spending the day with him. The few times you’d managed to beat him, you’d held it over his head for weeks, not letting him forget until he’d managed to beat you again in retaliation. Through the years, you maintained this dynamic. No one was quite sure how you could motivate him so well and they’d often shake their heads at your polar opposite personalities, sure that one day the differences would be too much. But he was always your lazy best friend. Then you’d gotten into a relationship with Kiba. He perfectly matched your energy and was always up for a good fight. You two were unstoppable and you’d accidentally caused damage to the village more than once. But as you got closer to Kiba, you began to drift away from Shikamaru. Sure the two of you still got together now and then to swap stories and have lunch, but you had less time to seek him out, and turned him down more and more because of dates with Kiba. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be friends, but you both had more and more demands on your time, and Shikamaru’s friendship had just...... become less of a priority in your mind. You felt confident that you’d always be best friends though, you’d been through too much together not to be. 

Eventually, your relationship with Kiba ended. You both loved each other, but a good relationship needs balance, and that just wasn’t possible between you two. Luckily, you’d both realized and parted on good terms. That hadn’t made it hurt any less. And so you’d turned to your best friend. Except that, he couldn’t be there. Not in the way you needed him. You’d drifted far, and although there was still love, you just didn’t quite know each other as well as you once did. But he’d reintroduced you to Ino, and you’d quickly hit it off. It began mostly with a mutual hate of Shikamaru’s laziness, but you’d gone on to bond more and more after that. You began to regularly visit the flower shop Ino worked at to go for lunch. Walking in you called out to her, “Inooooo! You ready to go?”

“Yep! Gimme a minute to hang up my apron.” She smiled, stepping to the back room, “Mom! I’m heading out for lunch, the register is unsupervised!” You heard a voice call back, but couldn’t make out the words. “Whatever, she knows.” Ino shrugged, stepping out from behind the counter. She looped her arm through yours. “Where to?”

“I don’t know, where do you wanna go?” 

“I think Choji had mentioned that he and Shikamaru were gonna try out that new barbeque place that just opened- wanna see if they’re there?” 

You grinned at the thought of barbeque, “Sounds good to me, let’s go!” And with that, the two of you strolled off. 

You weren’t excited to see Shikamaru, it was still awkward between you, but Ino seemed to want to hang out with her team, and who were you to stop her just because you were afraid of an awkward silence. As you walked over to the restaurant, you made small talk with Ino, telling her about the mission you’d just gotten back from. “Ugh, I can’t wait till Lady Tsunade sends us out again. I’m so tired of sitting in that flower shop everyday!” Ino groaned, rolling her eyes. “Like, I’m happy to have something to do I guess, but it gets really old really- Oh there they are!” she raised a hand, spotting the two boys sitting at a table. “Hey! Got room for two more?” she pulled you over with her. “Yeah of course, are you gonna pay?” Choji asked, grinning. 

Slapping his arm, Ino sat down next to him. “Of course not, pay for your own food!” She smiled at you, nodding towards the seat across from her, next to Shikamaru. You grabbed the chair and slid it out, sitting down. “So, what’ve you guys been up to on our time off?” Ino started. 

“Nothing much, I learned how to bake which has been awesome. Now I can have cake whenever I want!” Choji exclaimed, smiling. “Nice, Shikamaru?” Ino looked to the boy next to you. 

“Ehh, just been laying around mostly.” Ino seemed satisfied and launched into a conversation with Choji. You chuckled and under your breath said, “Now who’s surprised at that.” You kept your eyes trained on the menu, searching for a meal you liked.

“Yeah well, at least I can relax.” you heard quietly from beside you. 

Your head shot up, looking at Shikamaru. “Oh? Well, there is a difference between relaxing and becoming one with your bed you know.” You cocked an eyebrow at him. His mouth twitched, a small smirk betraying him. “Mmm you’ve got me there. One of these days you’ll run out of fuel and end up sleeping for days, and when that happens I won’t let you forget it.”

“Yeah no, sleeping for days? Sounds like a drag.” You grinned, teasing him just like you used to, this time, feeling your cheeks heat slightly.

He side-eyed you, grinning, “You and your mouth never stop moving, isn’t it troublesome to be always going?” 

You opened your mouth, pretending to be offended, but before you could reply, the waiter showed up to take everyone’s orders. The rest of lunch passed in casual conversation with the table, as you avoided looking at Shikamaru. It felt good to trade insults again, but something was still different, it wouldn’t ever really be the same, and you knew you held most of the blame for that. 

When lunch finished, you offered to walk Ino back to the flower shop. She agreed, and you bade Choji and Shikamaru goodbye. Turning your backs on the restaurant, Ino grinned at you. “So?” You just continued walking, “So what?” 

She groaned, “You and Shikamaru! Didn’t it feel good to be just like the old days? I remember how you two always were.” She knocked her shoulder against yours. “Haha, yeah I guess....” you trailed off, staring at the feet. “I don’t know though. It’s just not the same you know? It’s different. There’s still.... distance between us.” 

Ino rolled her eyes, “You know, I still wonder, how did you two even get so far?” 

“Hah, I don’t. It’s my fault really,” you proceeded to spill the beans on how you’d chosen your relationship with Kiba over Shikamaru’s friendship. “And now we’re basically strangers compared to how close we used to be. I hate it but, it is what it is, there’s no going back.”

She nodded silently before asking, “Wasn’t he your first kiss?” 

You chuckled remembering the day. A soft blush covered your cheeks thinking of how embarrassed and nervous you’d been. Shikamaru had asked you after school, and you’d agreed to be his first kiss. You’d been hoping it meant that he felt something for you, but looking back, you knew it was just your schoolgirl crush clouding your thoughts. “Yeah, but that was just because we were both awkward kids and wanted to get it out of the way with someone we trusted, you know?” Ino scoffed. “Hey, Shikamaru was the one who had suggested it. You know he never saw me like that. And I felt that way for like, 3 months tops. Well, okay maybe more like 5 months.” Ino stopped in her tracks. You turned around, staring at her. “What’s wrong, did you forget something?” 

“God you’re dumb Y/N.” She shook her head. “You really think Shikamaru just ‘wanted to get it out of the way’? I wish I lacked critical thinking, you seem so happy.” 

“Hey what the hell?” Your brow furrowed. “He did!! He called first kisses “a drag” and said it was better to just be done with it!”

Ino walked over, grabbing your hands. “Sweet sweet Y/N. So much energy, so few brain cells. He liked you. For a long time. Anyone could see it!” 

You shook your head, laughing, “Ino, I really don’t know what you think you saw, but we were best friends. Nothing else.” “Y/N,” She stared into your eyes, “when you started dating Kiba? He wasn’t just put out because you pulled away. He never actually said it, and he seemed to think he was hiding it,” she chuckled, “honestly I don’t know if he knew. But seeing you with Kiba, and the fact that you pulled away,” she pursed her lips, “it wasn’t a great time for him.” 

You were shocked. You didn’t quite believe her about his feelings, but the idea that you’d caused him so much trouble and hurt brought tears to your eyes, which threatened to spill over. You shook your head and began walking away. “Ino, I just remembered I have some errands to run,” you raised a hand in farewell, “I’ll... see you soon.” 

Your mind was going a million miles an hour, and even though you hadn’t lied, you did have errands to run, you weren’t going to get anything done. You walked, without knowing where you were going. You were lost in your thoughts, and you allowed your feet to steer you wherever they wanted to go. Finally looking up, you found yourself at a familiar clearing. Smiling sadly, you reminisced over the days you’d spent here when you were younger. Sure you were still always going, but your body had gotten better at knowing when you needed to take a break. And now, almost at a breaking point, your body had brought you back here, to the place you’d relaxed a thousand times. This time though, you laid down by yourself, feeling the grass prickling against your back. Staring up at the sky, you breathed deeply, trying to organize your thoughts. Clouds passed by quickly and the wind played with the hair around your face. “After all this time, Shikamaru?” you covered your face with your hands and groaned, “I can’t believe I’m still into you, this sucks. I was so sure it was nothing but a childhood crush, and now? Ugh.” You laid there, slowly drifting off into a nap you desperately needed. When you cracked open your eyes and sat up, the sun had disappeared and only lights twinkled in the village. You sighed, “Get it together, Y/N.” You weren’t sure if you were going to apologize, confess, or something else, but you knew you needed to see him. And so, standing up, you began your walk of shame towards the Nara compound.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.   ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.   ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.   ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

i just really enjoy listening to paramore and writing angst. honestly it’s not even that angsty imo, i was gonna make it worse but the writing gods said not to. n e ways, hope you enjoy!!

- ☆  

[fallout4reactsblog]

What if a sole survivor that’s a teenager(like 14-16 years old) begins to view the companions and faction leaders as parental figures, before slipping up and accidentally calling them “mom” or “dad”? Just a thought.

Ada: “Ah, shit.”

Sole patted themself down, checking their pockets, before sighing. “I knew I should’ve taken the time to skin those mole rats.”

“Is something missing?”

Curious, Ada leaned over to check the project they were working on. They slid to the side to accomodate her.

“I just don’t have enough leather to finish my armor mods. I wanted to put some pockets in my chestplate so I could carry a couple extra rolls of duct tape, but I don’t think it’s going to happen.”

“Leather?”

She checked back through her mental inventory, sizing up what she was carrying. Enamel bucket, ashtrays, pack of cigarettes...

“Ah, here we are.” She pulled out a baseball glove and handed it over. “Will this suffice?”

“Oh, yeah, this is perfect!” They beamed. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Anytime.”

If either of them noticed sole’s little slip-up, neither of them said a thing.

Cait: Sole reminded her too much of herself, some days. She knew their jaded expression, their thousand-yard stare, the haunted look of a kid who’d seen more than they should have. She knew more about them than they’d probably like, which was how she knew to stop them before they could do something they’d regret in the long run.

“No chems,” she said, plucking the canister of X-Cell out of their hands before they could get too close a look at it. It still felt dusty from its years laying in a Concord Speakeasy, and she wiped her hand on her pants.

“I know,” they huffed, rocking back on their heels. “I was just looking.”

“Well, don’t.” She tucked it into a back pocket, making a mental note to either toss it in the closest river or sell it first chance she got.

“It’s not like anything bad can happen from just looking at it, Cait. I wasn’t even thinking about it.”

“You better not have been. If you start doin’ that shite-”

“I know.” Somehow, their tone remained patient. “I promised I wouldn’t do chems, and I won’t, okay, Mom?”

The breath left her like she’d been sucker punched. For a moment, all she could do was stand there, eyes wide, unable to form a thought, much less words. Was it really like that? Had she really let things go this far? How long until she ended up like-

“I mean, uh, Cait.”

She glanced up to see their face beginning to turn red, and they ducked their head.

“Sorry, it just slipped out. I don’t, I mean, I didn’t-” They huffed. “Sorry. I know you don’t want to be a parent or anything, and I don’t mean that you should, I just...”

They prattled on nervously, as if trying to comfort both of them, words going right past Cait’s head. To think sole thought of her as a mother. She couldn’t have that responsibility. Her parents had been trusted with a child, and look how she’d turned out. She couldn’t take that risk, not with sole, not when at any moment some switch could flip inside her and she’d turn into the monsters that had raised her.

She’d known this was a bad idea, right from the start.

Codsworth: “I was thinking about putting another mod on my pistol today,” they said, hunched over the kitchen table. They were poking at some circuit board or another, something that they’d never have been allowed to touch before the war. He eyed the screwdriver in their hands warily.

“A fine idea,” he said, resigning himself once again to the fact that a new world meant a new way of life for mum and sir’s child. “Perhaps a larger magazine?”

They chewed their lower lip thoughtfully, tightening a screw. “I was thinking something more quick-eject, you know? Speed in battle and all.”

He couldn’t argue with that.

“The only reason I hadn’t done it was I needed some more adhesive. But since Carla stopped by again and she had some duct tape, we should be set.”

“As I recall, Miss Carla had more than enough for an extra set of sights as well. You asked me to remind you when you had enough material for a large scope, and by my measure, you should be there now.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot about that.” They nodded thoughtfully. “We can get that old hunting rifle in working order again. Thanks, Dad.”

He froze. Dad? Him? No, that wasn’t right. But they’d said it so casually, as if they hadn’t even realized they were saying it. Surely, they couldn’t have forgotten sir already. They’d had years with him as their father. Such things couldn’t be forgotten so easily.

“Sole.” He tried not to make his tone sound warning.

They, too, seemed to have realized what they’d said, ears beginning to turn red. “Sorry, Codsworth. I was just working and not thinking about it, and-”

“It’s alright. Such slip-ups happen, after all! We’ll just have to make sure it doesn’t become a habit. After all, I’m simply the family Mr. Handy. Hardly a father. I wouldn’t want to take sir’s place.”

“Right, right. Sorry.”

“No need for apologies! We’ll simply call this a learning moment, for both of us.”

They sighed, “Sounds fair,” and returned to their work.

Curie: “You have your stimpaks, yes?”

They patted a pocket. “Got ‘em right here.”

“And your bandages?”

“In my bag.”

“Extra ammunition?”

They sighed. “Stop fussing, Mom. I told you, I’ve got everything I need.”

She pursed her lips and cocked her head to the side. That was certainly an... interesting choice of words. 

“You see me as a maternal figure?”

“What?” They adjusted the straps on their bag, refusing to make eye contact.

“You referred to me as your mother. I am simply curious when you began to perceive me in such a role.”

“I don’t.” Their cheeks flushed, and they turned away further. “I didn’t call you ‘Mom,’ either.”

“Oh, but there is no need to be embarrassed! It is only natural for such things to happen. Your brain is still maturing, and as the primary provider of such maternal care in your life, it is predictable that you would-”

“Okay, okay, I’m leaving now.” They turned hastily to the door. “I’ll see you in a few days, Curie.”

“Certainly. Au revoir.”

As she watched their retreating back, she let herself consider the happy hum in her chest. Did she want to be sole’s mother? Was it that she wanted to be their mother specifically, or was there simply a general maternal instinct that was now surfacing? It was intriguing that such an instinct could exist in her, since she could never have children, but perhaps there was some lingering Ms. Nanny instinct that was affecting her. No matter what, it was certainly interesting.

If sole saw her as a maternal figure, she’d do her best to provide.

Danse: He found sole leaning against a wall, panting. There was blood splattered across their armor, gun dangling loosely from their fingers, but they were smiling, which was good enough for him.

“You look exhausted,” he said.

They laughed a little and smeared some of the blood from their cheek. “That was quite the fight. We should’ve brought some backup, huh?”

He glanced over at the scribe Quinlan had sent along, who had been of even less use than he’d expected, but decided to let that go and focus on sole. “I wouldn’t be so sure. You fared quite well on your own, and for your level of training your performance was impressive.”

Their eyes flicked over to meet his. “For real?”

“I would never lie to you, especially in your field evaluation. You’ve come a long way.”

He caught a hint of their smile before they ducked their head. “Thanks, Dad.”

He paused, sucking in a breath. While it wasn’t an uncommon mistake, it wasn’t one he was exactly willing to overlook. Still, best to approach things tactfully to avoid embarrassment for them. “What was that?”

They wouldn’t meet his eyes. “What was what?”

The scribe, tapping at the terminal, decided that was his moment to be useful. “You called Paladin Danse ‘Dad.’”

“No, I didn’t. I said, ‘Thanks, Danse.’”

He allowed himself a smile. “I didn’t know you saw me as a father figure, sole.”

“I don’t.” Still, their flush of embarrassment betrayed them.

He waved a hand through the air. “It’s alright, Knight. You wouldn’t be the first to refer to their sponsor as Mom or Dad, and I sincerely doubt you’ll be the last.”

Really, they were a good kid. Young initiates usually tended to find a substitute parental figure in the ranks, and of all sole’s options, he was glad it was him. He could keep them on the right track, make sure they didn’t go astray. With any luck, they could probably take his position someday. 

All in all, this was a good thing for both of them.

Deacon: “Deeks, how does this jacket look on me?”

He glanced up from the hats in Fallon’s Basement to see sole tugging on the sleeves of a leather jacket. It was a bit rough around the edges, but it was just worn enough that he could believe it had seen some action. It wasn’t really their style, though; Agent Whisper tended more toward a softer kind of spy work, based more on charisma and less on punching people in the face.

“I like it,” he said, rocking back on his heels. “It’s a new look for you.”

“I was thinking I should add a more badass disguise to my collection. Try for that intimidation factor every once in a while, you know?”

He tossed the idea around a moment before agreeing. “We could make it work. It’d need practice, though, and some other accessories.”

“We could go get a bat from Mo while we’re here.”

“Now you’re talking. You put a couple nails in that sucker, and boom. You’re halfway to badass city right there. We’ll just have to teach you how to actually use it so you don’t stab yourself by accident.”

“Yeah, sure, but you’ll teach me, right, Dad?”

He nearly choked. Shit. Did sole know something he didn’t? No, that couldn’t be true. He’d never had kids, despite how much Barbara wanted them. Plus, sole had known their father. He’d seen the body, still half in cryo in 111.

That left the fact that sole had come to see him as a father figure, which left him in the awkward position of either shutting that down, probably hurting their feelings in the process, or just letting it slide. But could he even consider the latter? He couldn’t be a father, not in this state. He couldn’t lie every other word and still consider himself a decent parental influence, now could he?

Still, that voice in the back of his head nagged, “Barbara would want you to say yes. She thought you’d be a good dad.”

“Deeks?”

They looked at him quizzically, obviously still looking for an answer.

He sighed and, just this once, gave in. “Sure, kid. I’ll teach you how. It’s not that much different from their intended use, really...”

Desdemona: She always had a certain fondness for sole’s reports. She never got to hear much about the missions, just a quick affirmation of success and not much else. Sole, though, sole always told her a story, starting from the beginning and highlighting anything that they thought was interesting.

“But, you know, they’re just raiders,” they said, twenty-some minutes after they’d started. “In the end, H2 got where he needed to go. Highrise will take it from here.”

She smiled and ruffled their hair, making them laugh. “Good work, agent. You’re making all of us proud.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

They froze immediately, realizing what they had said, but their moment of embarrassment was cut short by Tom’s sigh of relief.

“Finally! You know how long we’ve been waiting for this? You took so long to join the club.”

Glory caught sole’s look of confusion and added, “Everyone calls Dez ‘Mom’ at some point. It’s basically a rite of passage.”

They looked to Dez for affirmation, and she could only nod. 

“It’s true. It happens to everyone, sooner or later. I’m more than used to it by now.”

“You sure?” they asked, voice still hesitant.

“Positive. The only one that hasn’t is PAM, and she doesn’t have the capability.”

“Give her time,” Tom said. “She’ll get there.”

Gage: “You’re being stupid,” he snarled.

They glared back with surprising intensity. “You’re being a prick. You said yourself, I’m the Overboss. Things go how I want them to.”

How they’d managed that little trick, he didn’t know, but he hated it more and more every day. “Bein’ the Overboss doesn’t mean you don’t have to listen to anyone. You’re still new here. You better show me some respect.”

“Oh, fuck off, Dad,” they snapped.

That only pissed him off more. “What did you just call me, you little shit?”

They blinked, anger seeming to cool for a second. “Gage. What else?”

“No, you called me Dad.” His temper settled in return, hovering at a simmer. “Like this is some sort of family reunion or some shit.”

They snorted. “As if.”

“Don’t try and take it back now. I heard you.”

“You’re old and losing your hearing. Old fucker.”

His temper flared again, and despite that he knew they were baiting him, he couldn’t resist. “What was that?”

“What, I need to enunciate everything for you? Do you need your hearing aids, Grandpa?”

“What the fuck is a hearing aid?”

“What do you think, dumbass? It lets you hear better when you get old and lose your hearing. Like you.”

A knock on the door interrupted what he was going to say, and he snapped his mouth closed with irritation.

“Overboss?” The voice was muffled through the door. “Do you have a minute?”

“Yeah, just a sec.” They dusted their hands on their pants, anger instantly melting into a mask of cold determination. “Come on, Gage. Work to do.”

He huffed and resolved they would finish this later.

Hancock: He was always impressed with how well sole handled Goodneighbor. It went to show that they were much tougher than their age and pre-war softness let on; that this kid who looked like they’d never even handled a gun would shoot you without question if threatened. He’d seen how they’d handled Finn.

“Cold today,” they said, blowing into their hands. “This wind is killer. You wanna head inside and check up on things while I barter here?”

They gestured in the general direction of KLEO’s shop, and he chuckled. 

“I dunno. Maybe the big, bad mayor better stick around to make sure you don’t get yourself into more trouble.”

They rolled their eyes. “Come on, Dad. I can handle myself, you know.”

They realized their mistake before he did, eyes widening, jaw snapping shut. He faltered, snappy words dying in his mouth before he got hold of himself again. Dad? Were they kidding? Their face said they weren’t.

“Woah, now.” He held up his hands. “It ain’t like that, kid. I’m not exactly the fatherly type, y’know. Cool uncle, maybe, but I ain’t anybody’s Dad.”

They huffed, clearly embarrassed, and diverted him by saying, “Bet you’ve been more than one somebody’s Daddy, though.”

“That’s more like it.” He nudged them in KLEO’s direction. “You go do your shopping, and I’ll go make sure they ain’t burnin’ down my town while I’m away.”

“Sure. If I’m not here when you get back, I’ll be in Hotel Rexford.”

“Sounds fine. Get me somethin’ nice while you’re at it, huh?”

“Alright, but I’m charging you a convenience fee.”

Content that they were back on the same page, he agreed and went to find Fahrenheit.

MacCready: “Your fever’s gone down a little.” He rested a hand against their forehead. “Seems you’re gonna pull through.”

They smiled a little, eyes still hazy with sickness and medicine. Soon, they’d be on their feet again, he hoped.

“I bet you’re a good dad, Mac,” they said. “Duncan must really love you, huh?”

He let out a sigh. Sole had been strangely emotional ever since they got sick, which had annoyed him at first, but lately he’d just come to accept it. After all, there wasn’t much he could do about it, was there?

“Jeez, I don’t even know if he remembers me. It’s been a while since I got to see him.”

“He remembers you. I mean, I remember my dad, and he’s been dead for a couple hundred years now, I guess.” They laughed a little, as if they’d said something funny. “But you should go see him. Take a break. I’ll be fine without you.”

“Nah, we’ll go together. After all, he’ll probably want to meet you.”

“You think?”

“Yeah. He’ll probably see you as some kind of adopted older sibling or something. You’ll get along.”

They exhaustion in their laugh betrayed them. “Sure, whatever you say, Dad.”

There was a wryness in their voice, an almost mocking note that told him they’d meant it as a joke, but long after they’d fallen asleep, he sat at their bedside, watching them. He’d thought he was joking, too, but now that he was along with his thoughts, he had to wonder. Maybe he did want them to meet Duncan, and maybe he did want them to get along like siblings. Could he do that? Was that wrong?

He sighed and rose from his chair. No use worrying about it now. Sole had probably been joking about him going to DC anyway. After all, there was work to be done here.

They definitely weren’t going anywhere until they were better, though. For now, he had to focus on making sure they pulled through.

Maxson: He watched them across the table as they studied the map of the Commonwealth spread between them. It was a crude battle plan, mostly consisting of bottlecaps and buttons, but it was enough for them to discuss. He found he was regularly impressed by their knowledge in this area; in many ways, they reminded him of himself at that age.

“What if we swung south?” They pushed three bottlecaps across the table. “The way C.I.T is set up makes anything but a direct assault difficult, but we could try to split their forces, or at least their fire.”

He hummed, considering. “You’re still assuming we can’t assemble Prime in time.”

“Right. I’m concerned they’ll force our hand before we’re ready. We need to be prepared for that.”

“If you hope to split their fire, we’ll have to split our forces. That means we’ll need more men overall and be pulling more away from the airport, leaving us vulnerable.”

They scrunched their face as they thought about it. “You’re right, but in these circumstances we’re already at a disadvantage, don’t you think? We’re outgunned and outmanned.”

“Both of which can be overcome by outplanning them.” He leaned back in his chair. “What you lack in physical strength can often be overcome with mental acuity.”

They glanced away from the diorama to look at him. “That’s pretty good advice. Nice one, Dad.”

He felt his heart skip a beat. They had already returned to the diorama, now considering the forces around the airport, but he suddenly couldn’t focus. Sole considered him a father figure. Did he mean that much to them that he was someone they looked to for guidance, not just on the Prydwen, but in all aspects of their life? To be a father to them, to be able to guide them, was more than he could have ever asked for.

He cleared his throat. “I believe you mean ‘Elder,’ Knight.”

“Hm?” They looked up again.

“You referred to me as something else. I’m reminding you that the proper title is ‘Elder.’“

“Oh. My apologies, Elder. It won’t happen again.”

He sighed. “I ask that you’re careful around the others. That is all.”

They nodded, mind clearly already on other things.

Nick: He watched them poke around Earl Sterling’s apartment, careful eyes taking everything in. He lingered by the doorway, letting them do their thing, curious to see how it would play out. He was taking a bit of a risk letting them work the case, but he figured he could clean up any mistakes they made along the way.

Mistake number one was probably letting them pick up all those beers, but he figured as long as he watched them sell them all, it would be fine.

“Aha!”

Triumphant, they emerged from where they had crouched on the floor, brandishing a piece of paper.

“Find somethin’?” He flicked his cigarette to the side, nudging it out with the toe of his boot.

“Some sort of receipt, I think. Facial reconstruction with Dr. Crocker. Appointment date... should have been sometime around his disappearance.”

“That means ol’ Doc could’ve been the last to see Earl alive.” He nodded thoughtfully. “Good work, kid.”

They flushed with pride and perhaps a bit of embarrassment at the praise. “Thanks, Dad.”

He raised an eyebrow, hoping they would realize their mistake on their own, but they were busy tucking the receipt into their bag. It seemed as though they hadn’t noticed at all, and after a moment of thought, he decided not to mention it. After all, there was no need to embarrass them. They’d realize what they’d said eventually.

Plus, it was kind of nice, in a way.

Piper: “You’ve got ink on your face.”

Sole glanced up from the freshly-printed edition of the paper, fingers wandering to their cheekbone. “Here?”

“Little to the left.”

“Here?”

“Less to the left.”

“Here?”

“Oh, just hold still.”

She leaned over, wiping the ink off their cheek with her thumb. It smeared a little bit, but was a marked improvement, and she scrubbed the rest away with the heel of her glove.

“There you go. Good as new.”

They nodded and returned their attention to the paper. “Thanks, Mom.”

They seemed to realize immediately, eyes widening, and Piper felt a sharp pain in her chest. 

“Aw, Blue, you know I’m not really...”

They visibly deflated. “I know. I’m sorry, Piper.”

“Not like that.” She leaned forward, putting her coffee to the side. “I’m not upset by it. I’m just not that kind of person, that’s all. I’m like your older sister, not your Mom. I wouldn’t want to replace her. It’s not a big deal, just, you know, get it in your head.”

“Older sister?” That seemed to perk them up a bit, and she smiled.

“Yeah. You’re still part of the family, Blue. Just not like that.”

They smiled. “I guess I’ll take it.”

Preston: The first sign was always the quiet. Sole wasn’t likely to stay quiet for too long; they were always listening to the radio, humming or singing along. When it was quiet for too long, that usually meant they’d either wandered off without telling him, which was never good, or they’d fallen asleep somewhere.

Sign two was the glow of a lantern at the workbench. It wasn’t uncommon for them to work late into the night, but that was always accompanied by the sound of work: the screech of metal on metal, the hum of an engine, the rattling of loose hardware in its drawers. 

Quiet and light together meant they’d fallen asleep at the workbench. Again.

“Sole.” Gently, he shook their shoulder. “Come on. You can’t sleep here.”

They sat up, bleary-eyed, a sheet of orange plastic cut from a pumpkin stuck to their cheek. Almost unseeing, they looked up at him with a sleepy, questioning hum.

“Come on.” Gently, he pulled at their arm.

“Sorry, Dad.” They rubbed their eyes, rising on unsteady feet. “I’m going.”

A smile crept to his face as he led them across the Sanctuary street to their home, making sure they got settled. Almost instantly, they were asleep again, long hours of hard living catching up to them all at once. Quietly, he closed the door behind him.

It was too good to be true. They were just tired, and mistook him for their father in the dark. But still, a part of him wanted to believe that it was possible. Maybe he could be a father to sole. He could show them how to make it here, in this unfamiliar world, and support them as they grew into the General he knew they could be.

Maybe, just maybe, they would let him.

X6: He watched them pace back and forth in front of the door, coat tails swirling with every pivot. They adjusted their lapels for the fifth time, sighed, and glanced around for a clock.

“It’s only four twenty-five,” he said. “You’ve still got twenty-five minutes.”

They sighed and sank heavily into a chair. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

They groaned and dropped their head onto the table. “You said it was thirty minutes to go, like, an hour ago.”

“Five minutes ago.”

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

He set his gun on the table with a sigh and set his sunglasses beside them. “If you keep worrying about it, you’ll only work yourself up more, and the time will seem to pass slower. Your best move would be to get a cup of coffee and relax.”

“I can’t relax.” They leaned back in their chair. “It’s my first meeting as the director. Half of the Institute already hates me because I’m so young, so if I mess this up I’ll be out on the street by dawn. This is no time to relax.”

“If you don’t relax, you’ll be more likely to make a mistake.”

“I know, but it’s easier said than done, Dad.”

He blinked. At first, he wasn’t sure if he’d heard them properly, but his hearing was beyond satisfactory. If he’d heard it, they’d said it, but that didn’t mean anything.

“Case in point. You’re upset, you make mistakes. Like that.”

They sank their head into their hands. “You’re right. I’ll- I’ll get some coffee. Sorry.”

“There is no need to apologize. Humans make mistakes, after all.”

[obsessedwithbbandsuju]

Thanks

Jiyong-oppa was telling her about the struggles he was having with his recent projects when his gaze happened to flit out the window next to the table. His brows furrowed and his eyes narrowed, fixating on something, before a dark scowl settled over his face. 

Pairing: Kwon Jiyong + Son Taeyeon, Park Jungsoo/Son Taeyeon (past)

Warnings: Subtle references to depression

___

oppa: a term used by a female to refer to a male, older than her, that she is close to

sunbaenim: a term used by a junior to refer to a senior in the industry

___

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Jiyong-oppa had a playful smile on as he noticed Taeyeon’s presence, standing near the café table. She rolled her eyes, her lips curling upward too, and opened her arms to accept the tight hug he pulled her into. There was almost nothing that was more familiar, she noted, as she patted his back.

“I haven’t seen you in ages,” he commented as they seated themselves across from each other. Taeyeon nodded. “I know. Work’s been crazy.” From occasional variety shows to her preparations for Pandora’s comeback to the exponential popularity surge of D’apchier in Japan… it was hectic, to say the least, and she was sure Jiyong-oppa could relate. Sometimes she wondered if they were both doomed to a life of exhaustion.

“Hey, Jiyong. Hey, Taeyeon.” Minsoo-oppa, a friend of Jiyong-oppa’s who owned the café, flashed them a grin. His straight black hair had grown out since Taeyeon last saw him, the lowest strands almost reaching his shoulders. She waved, wiggling her fingers, and Jiyong-oppa returned the grin, brief but sincere. He ordered his apparent usual, while Taeyeon declined having anything. As Minsoo-oppa walked away with the order, Jiyong-oppa gave her a concerned look. “You sure you don’t want anything?” he asked. “Knowing you, you’ve been pushing yourself. Minsoo’s café is really good.”

“I’m really fine,” Taeyeon assured him. “How are the songs coming along?” He was working on the tracks for Bigbang’s latest album.

Jiyong-oppa shrugged. “Not the best, not the worst. Productivity could be better, but I’m making pretty good progress on some days.”

“Sounds typical.” She knew the process of creating songs inside and out, up and down. While she loved it, it could be exhausting and draining. Jiyong-oppa nodded.

“You? D’apchier’s doing really well these days,” he noted. “I heard it’s popularity soared in Japan.” He smiled playfully, “You must be proud, Miss CEO.”

Rolling her eyes, Taeyeon couldn’t help the small smile that spread across her face at his jocundity. Jiyong-oppa was one of her oldest, closest, dearest friends, and she’d missed him. Being with him always helped her unwind, made her feel like she could totally and thoroughly and genuinely be herself, and she was grateful, again, that they had remained such good friends even after breaking up all those years ago. “I’ve already corrected you multiple times on calling me that.”

His only response was the widening of his lively smile. Snorting, Taeyeon fought the urge to reach over and flick him on the forehead.

“Anyway, I’ve gotten a lot done with regards to designing,” she said, answering his question. “But not much done for Pandora’s comeback.” Normally she would keep the note of frustration out of her voice, but with Jiyong-oppa there was no need. He knew fully, perfectly well where she was coming from.

“Just don’t push yourself too much,” he replied – not telling her to stop or take a break like most people would have done, as she’d expected. Jiyong-oppa understood more than enough about her workaholic tendencies; he knew saying those things wouldn’t help or encourage her much. Probably because he was the same way.

“I’ll try not to,” Taeyeon assured him as a waiter came over with Jiyong-oppa’s order. It was a roast beef and provolone panini, looking delicious and making her regret, just a little, that she hadn’t ordered anything. She wasn’t hungry per se, but it did seem appetizing. Good thing it’s real food instead of something sugary, she thought. Jiyong-oppa was a lot like her in that he neglected to take proper care of himself during a working phase. It was assuring to see that he was eating substantially, at least.

Noticing her eyeing his food, Jiyong-oppa offered her some, which Taeyeon sheepishly accepted. He cut the panini in half and they shared it, talking to each other and catching up on everything they’d missed when they were both occupied with business.

Jiyong-oppa was telling her about the struggles he was having with his recent projects when his gaze happened to flit out the window next to the table. His brows furrowed and his eyes narrowed, fixating on something, before a dark scowl settled over his face. He got up from his chair and left the café in the flurry, leaving Taeyeon staring after him, bewildered. Glancing out the window where Jiyong-oppa had been looking, she saw with a sudden, horrified shock that it was Jungsoo-oppa. He was walking into a nearby restaurant with a woman, and it was obvious that the two of them were on a date.

Taeyeon blinked a few times at the sight, surprised at how hard it was to adjust to seeing her ex with someone else. By the time she had recovered from her stupor, Jiyong-oppa was almost upon the pair. He stopped a short distance away and said something to Jungsoo-oppa, who looked completely caught off-guard. (Although the poor woman with him appeared even more flabbergasted.) Jiyong-oppa said something else, motioning angrily with his hands while Jungsoo-oppa made a placating gesture. It seemed to stop Jiyong-oppa long enough so that the other man could talk; although Taeyeon naturally couldn’t hear anything, it only took a few functioning brain cells to understand that he was explaining about their breakup.

Jiyong-oppa grew still, thankfully seeming to have calmed down, and said something else. Jungsoo-oppa nodded. Jiyong-oppa spoke again, short and businesslike, and turned away from the pair, walking back towards the café. Jungsoo-oppa turned to his date, looking apologetic. Taeyeon grimaced, embarrassed – and apologetic herself. She should have told Jiyong-oppa that she had broken up with Jungsoo-oppa sooner, if only to prevent this kind of misunderstanding.

Jiyong-oppa reentered the café and came back to their table, slightly out of breath from his furious rush outside. “You and sunbaenim broke up?”

Taeyeon nodded sheepishly as Jiyong-oppa took a seat in his chair again. He fixed her with a faintly accusing stare. “How long ago?”

She had to think about that. “Three… three months.” Had it really only been three months since they split? It felt like an eternity, and their relationship seemed to be between Jungsoo-oppa and a slightly younger Taeyeon. She felt different from how she’d felt back then. More tired. A little bit more jaded. She’d had such strong feelings for Jungsoo-oppa; it had felt like they would help her get through anything that came between them. As it turned out, they were actually completely useless in stopping her decision to break up with him. In recent months, they had also, at least, revealed themselves to be completely useless in causing any sort of regret that she’d ended things between them. That was a blessing, at least, because if she’d chosen to break up with Jungsoo-oppa and then turned around and regretted it, she’d feel absolutely sorry to him.

At least he finally seemed to be moving on. His morose state since they split had been gnawing at her mind for the entire three months, not helped by their exchange in the street food tent some time ago, but it looked like he was coming out of it. She hoped things worked out between him and the woman he was with.

Jiyong-oppa’s eyebrows rose, eyes widening in surprise. “Three months? Why didn’t you tell me?” To Taeyeon’s surprise, he sounded legitimately, if faintly, upset. She hadn’t realized that he would care that she hadn’t told him about her breakup with Jungsoo-oppa.

“I didn’t think you’d be interested,” she told him honestly. Because why would anyone be interested in her love life when they had their own concerns to work out?

Jiyong-oppa looked hurt, although it was just a flash in his gaze, not something that he intentionally let her see. “Don’t think that. I’m always going to look out for you.” The tenderness in his eyes caught Taeyeon off guard, because he wasn’t usually a person to get into emotional matters through talking. That wasn’t to say he wasn’t an emotional person, because he was, but words had never been an outlet he used for it. For a moment, she couldn’t reply.

Jiyong-oppa sighed, seeing her surprise. “I’m sorry. You’re right, there’s no reason you would think I want to hear about that. Just let me know next time, okay? I was about to start shouting at Leeteuk-sunbaenim; I thought he was two-timing on you.”

The thought of what could have happened if that particular misunderstanding had gone much further made Taeyeon shudder. Like her, Jiyong-oppa was a calm person by nature, and was generally very good at keeping his cool. He rarely raised his voice – but when he did, it meant he was genuinely angry, and when he got to that point he didn’t stop until he’d given the other person a good piece of his mind. Worse, he and Jungsoo-oppa weren’t too familiar with each other, which would mean a very awkward situation for everyone involved, to say the least.

The unpleasantness of the hypothetical must have shown on her face, because Jiyong-oppa snorted. “Yeah,” he said, “that wouldn’t have been good.”

“No kidding.” Taeyeon laughed a little, the realization hitting her full across the face that Jiyong-oppa had just gone charging out there, ready to throw hands at her ex – their senior in the industry – because he thought he was cheating on her. “Well, thank you for risking your reputation for my honor like that.”

“Your honor’s well worth it.” Jiyong-oppa laughed too. Now that the initial confusion had been resolved he seemed a little bit concerned, eyeing her with unconcealed worry. “Are you… okay?”

The question was cautious, like he was afraid she would take offense if he pushed too far. He didn’t need to have troubled himself, though, because Taeyeon wasn’t angry. He hadn’t crossed any lines that needed, in her mind, to be kept. And honestly, she was grateful that he was asking if she was alright. It reminded her that he had her back just as he had for the past eleven years.  

“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “It was me that broke up with him first, and it… it’s still hard for me to think about. Not because I regret it, but…”

“You wish it could have worked out.” Jiyong-oppa finished. Taeyeon nodded. Back in the earlier days of their friendship it had always been a little freaky how Jiyong-oppa could connect to what she was saying so easily, even when she didn’t actually say it. By now, though, she was used to it. Honestly, Taeyeon had never really believed in soulmates, and she knew that Jiyong-oppa hadn’t either – but if they existed, he was most definitely hers. That was why she openly called him “my soulmate”, after all; and she was confident that she was his. They’d only admitted it to each other once – when they’d half-jokingly agreed on calling each other by the name, deciding that it fit, but they had quickly come to realize that it wasn’t a joke, not even halfway.

They were both celebrities. Both leaders of two groups under YG, despite not being the oldest members. Both noted for their in-depth, heavy involvement in the production of their discography, something fairly uncommon in the industry. Both with considerable success as solo artists. Both judged, positively or negatively, for their “avant-garde” styles, be it with regards to lyrics or fashion or composition or performances. Both praised to have massive, larger-than-life charisma on stage, but both also surprising others with how contrastingly calm they were in their day-to-day life. Both credited with being highly influential in spreading kpop and Hallyu across the world. Both debuting in 2006, and finding themselves here, eight years later, impossibly grateful at the achievements they’d managed to make with the help of others – and impossibly sick and tired of the deification.

Jiyong-oppa, like her, was sick and tired of being seen as some star, some untouchable deity. At first, Taeyeon admitted, to their young minds it had felt like being on cloud nine. The idea that she was famous had been amazing. It still was amazing, but that amazement was soiled, wrinkled, smudged over by gritty, bitter exhaustion. The treatment as if she was somehow different from other people, the outside reminders that she couldn’t possibly have anything to feel less than thrilled about since she was a successful celebrity, since she was the leader of Pandora, since she was Son Taeyeon, they were suffocating. When she was younger Taeyeon had dismissed her misgivings; after all, she had thought, how could she find anything to complain about? But now… it was difficult to manage, difficult to just turn a blind eye to. She was tired. She wasn’t sure if people were supposed to feel this exhausted at age twenty-three.

And the thing about Jiyong-oppa was that he comprehended all that so perfectly. He knew how all of it felt. There was no one else whom Taeyeon could say understood it all so much in its entirety as much as Jiyong-oppa did. He understood what she meant when she talked to him about wanting to constantly throw herself into work, feeling anxious and tense when she wasn’t working, and yet getting stressed when she was. He knew how it felt to be stuck somewhere in that limbo where you didn’t want to eat, didn’t want to sleep, didn’t want to read, didn’t want to walk, didn’t want to write, didn’t want to cry, didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to breathe, didn’t want to do much of anything that had to do with existing. He had experienced that sense of isolation, alienation, when you walked down the street and you couldn’t help seeing everyone as completely separate from you.

From some point, he seemed to be a slightly distorted reflection of her, unlike her in a select few ways but so much like her in so many others. That was why, if souls had other halves, the other half of hers was his, and the other half of his was hers. Nothing could change that. It didn’t matter if they made other friends, it didn’t matter if either of them dated, it didn’t matter if either of them got married – this was something that went beyond friendship or romantic relationships.

There weren’t many people Taeyeon couldn’t live without. Taeyong, her brother. Her members – Soojin, Minhee-eonni, Yuna, Sunbin. And… Jiyong-oppa. If it weren’t for his presence next to her, understanding her and therefore being an unspeakably vital comfort and strength, many things would have been much harder to bear. It was the same for him regarding her, she knew – he didn’t need to say it, just as she didn’t need to tell him, because they knew.

“I don’t know what happened,” Jiyong-oppa said, “but I’m here.” For you. I’m here for you. I’ll always look out for you. He didn’t need her to verbalize how grateful, how much better, it made her feel when he told her or communicated to her things like that, just by being by her side – he was already aware.

Reaching over the table, Taeyeon placed her hand over his, lying flat on the hard wood surface. His skin was warm. Their eyes met.

“Thanks.”

Jiyong-oppa flipped his hand so it was his that was on top of hers. He might not have very big hands, but they were still significantly larger than hers, enveloping her whole palm and the entire length of her fingers. Lightly, so lightly that she almost thought she was imagining it, he squeezed.

“No problem.”

[recentanimenews]

The 42 Greatest Anime Moments of Monkey D. Luffy

  May 5 is the birthday of One Piece's main character Monkey D. Luffy, and over the past couple of decades of his existence, he's given us some moments that will stay in our minds forever. And so I've decided to chronicle 42 of his best ones, antics that will hopefully remind you how much you love the free-spirited, determined, ridiculous Birthday Best Boy. One note, though — while this list does contain some of those sweet, sweet fight scenes, I've already written a list that ranked his 20 greatest knockouts against bad guys. So, in order to not repeat that list entirely, I've tried to mix it up a little bit. 

  1. Luffy Wakes Up From A Great Nap

I can't think of a better anime debut for Monkey D. Luffy than "wakes up in the barrel that he miraculously survived a whirlpool in and immediately knocks out some pirates by accident." It's everything fun about the dude rolled into one.

2. Luffy Gets Coby To Hit Him

    One thing that doesn't get mentioned enough about Luffy is his haphazard, yet skillful ingenuity. He knows that Koby will never get to join the Marines if he's associated with pirates, so Luffy, his one brain cell working overtime, gets Koby to punch him in order to prove that they're not friends because would friends brawl on the floor of a restaurant? 

3. Luffy Gets The Straw Hat

A moment from the first chapter of the manga that was delayed until Episode 4 of the anime, Luffy getting the straw hat from Shanks is iconic. It sets in motion his entire journey and creates a symbol that represents freedom, adventure, and destiny.

4. Luffy Gives Nami The Straw Hat

  Luffy giving Nami his straw hat is more than just a simple, comforting gesture. It's Luffy telling Nami that if she wants, she'll be a Straw Hat now and for the rest of her life. Nami may have problems, but she'll never have to deal with them alone ever again.

5. Luffy Gets His First Bounty

    By gaining a bounty when he takes down Arlong, Luffy is introduced to the wider world of pirating, the World Government, and eventually the Grand Line. Though Buggy's reveal that he knew Shanks and Mihawk's appearance hinted at a wider world, this is Luffy's first real step into it.

  6. Luffy Smiles At Death

    Luffy obviously doesn't want to die. But as he smiles at the crowd and his crew while Buggy brings a sword down onto his neck, he grins. Because he didn't die in vain. He never became Pirate King and he never found the One Piece, but he did live his life exactly the way that he wanted to. And that's more important than any title or treasure. I'm glad he didn't die, though. They never would've found the Grand Line if Zoro had ascended to the role of Captain. They'd probably still be arguing in the Loguetown harbor.

7. Luffy Holds Up Hiriluk's Flag

   Wapol wanted to destroy Hiriluk's flag and thus eliminate his legacy. But Luffy — smoking due to being recently shot by a cannon and holding up the flag — proved that's not something you can just do. As long as someone is there to fight for it, a flag is forever.

  8. Luffy Disagrees With Vivi

   Vivi, frustrated, enraged, and embarrassed about the treatment of her country, was more than ready to sacrifice herself for it ... and only herself. But Luffy wasn't hearing it. If she was going down, they were all going down. It wasn't just Vivi's fight anymore. The Straw Hats had reached Ride or Die status.

  9. Luffy Beats Crocodile

  I did a list of Luffy's best knockouts so I'm not gonna list every major punch here. However, the ones that are especially meaningful deserve recognition. And this one, where, after two defeats, Luffy battered Crocodile up through the streets of Alubarna, is inarguably one of the most memorable. It's a triumph that's a long time coming, equal parts brutal and satisfying.

  10. Luffy Lets Himself Get Beat Up And Meets Blackbeard

  Mirroring Shanks' restraint when he let himself get harassed by the Mountain Bandits, here we see Luffy decide not to fight Bellamy and instead he listens to Bellamy's foolish proclamations about why dreams suck and why you shouldn't have them and why Mylo Xyloto is the best Coldplay album, probably. However, even if he didn't need the pick-me-up, Blackbeard meets him outside to reaffirm that dreams never die. It would be a super nice remark ... if anyone but Blackbeard was saying it.

  11. Luffy Is Immune To Enel

  Until this point, Enel is borderline unstoppable, able to strike down anyone in his path and — with the help of his "mantra" —  barely takes any damage in the process. And it's made him pretty cocky. But to see Enel's face distort in cartoonish disbelief when he realizes that Luffy is a Rubber Type Pokemon and that he's impervious to Electric Types is so joyously satisfying.

  12. Luffy Decides To Get Rid Of The Going Merry

    With the Going Merry slowly becoming unusable and actually becoming a handicap to the crew, Luffy figures that it's time to find a new ship. It's a sad moment, but you can't help but see Luffy's side. A good pirate crew needs a good pirate ship. And if the Going Merry suddenly sinks, Luffy is dead. Like very, very dead.

  13. Luffy Faces Usopp

  Usopp relates to the Going Merry, fearing that its "weakness" and "inadequacy" represents his own. And so when Luffy decides to get rid of the ship, Usopp lashes out, causing Luffy to have to "put down" Usopp. It's a difficult decision, but it shows that Luffy isn't all laughs and "I'm gonna be King of the Pirates!" declarations.

14. Luffy Does Not Recognize Sogeking

    And then, after the most heartfelt showdown in the series, Luffy doesn't even recognize Usopp's Sogeking disguise, despite the fact that he has most of Usopp's traits, most of Usopp's weapons, and showed up only a little while after Usopp left. Oh, Luffy. Never stop being you.

  15. Luffy Goes Second Gear

  Power-ups are pretty common in anime. But Luffy saying that he needs to take his skills up another level so that he won't lose his friends still feels pretty special. And then the music kicks in and Luffy beats Blueno to a pulp and it's one of the most hype scenes in the entire series.

  16. Luffy Declares War On The World

   He'll always have a target on his back, he'll never be able to rest easy again, and the World Government will pursue him as long as he draws breath. Luffy knows this, but when the time comes to save Robin from CP9 in Enies Lobby, he doesn't hesitate to take on the whole world. It's just what friends do.

  17. Luffy Refuses To Fall

  When Luffy and Lucci fight, it isn't a quick contest. They go to absolute war on one another. And when Lucci thinks he's won, having left Luffy spitting up blood on the floor, we see that ... no. Luffy will not leave his feet. He has too much pride, too much grit, and too much determination. Defeat is not an option here. He will stop fighting to retrieve Robin when he's dead.

  18. Luffy Is Reunited With Garp

  For a long time, Luffy's actual flesh and blood family was a mystery. Shanks is kind of a cool uncle and Ace is someone that Luffy considers his brother, but where did Luffy, ya know, come from? As it turns out, his grandpa is the cannonball-throwing Marine Vice Admiral Garp, who is not only just as goofy as Luffy, but also really, really, really strong for being 76. What's his secret? Low carbs? Eiichiro Oda, please let me know.

  19. Luffy Punches The Celestial Dragon

  Luffy can't stand bullies or anyone that relishes the misery of others. So when a Celestial Dragon shoots Hatchan in the auctioneering house, Luffy walks right up to him and turns his face into a catcher's mitt.

  20. Luffy Loses His Crew

   Luffy's darkest hour (so far) comes when, in a fight with Kuma, Kizaru and the Pacifistas, his whole crew eventually gets wiped out and spread across the world. All the while, Luffy is powerless to stop it — his Gum Gum skills no match for Kuma's abilities. It's a truly pitiable thing to see Luffy beat his fists on the ground in futility, something entirely unlike any scene in the series before.

  21. Luffy Covers Sandersonia

   Back in Little Garden, Luffy agreed it wasn't necessary to actually have a reason for the fight between the giants. They were having an honorable contest between warriors. That was enough. Later when Sandersonia's scars were about to be revealed after a battle, Luffy covered them up. He had no interest in killing them or exposing their secrets. That is not what the battle was for. The contest was simply one that he wanted to win so he'd eventually get back to his crew.

  22. Luffy Decides To Save His Brother Before Reuniting With His Crew

   When Luffy learns that Ace is to be put to death, he must make a choice: Get the gang back together or dive into the depths of Impel Down and try to rescue his brother. He ends up choosing the latter, which shows a great deal of trust and respect for his crewmates. He knows they're strong enough to be OK without him for now.

23. Luffy Embraces Mr. 2

    This is just plain wholesome. Luffy's love for his friends is might be the best thing about him.

24.Luffy Falls From The Sky

    Luffy's story isn't just about his quest to find the One Piece, but the formation of a legend. And when Luffy and the other Impel Down escapees plummet from the sky into the Marineford war, you can practically see that legend being written.

  25. Luffy Faces The Admirals

  Yes, Luffy's attempts to kick a frozen log at them goes nowhere. And yes, Luffy is almost immediately knocked down by Kizaru when he tries to rush past him. But the guts in that kid! Facing down three of the most powerful men in the One Piece universe and demanding they give Ace back to him. That is moxie, my dudes.

  26. Luffy Goes Comatose

  Ace is dead. The mission has failed. A brother is lost. And all Luffy can do is go numb and lifeless. He has no words or actions to explain or react. A chunk of his soul has been ripped away.

  27. Luffy Realizes He Still Has His Friends

    Yes, his attempt to save Ace was a bust. But in the most hopeless of times, Jimbei asks him what he still has. And Luffy remembers he still has his friends — friends he has been there for in the past and who will most certainly be there for him later. They are still there. And because they are still there, Luffy's existence has worth.

  28. Luffy Gets An Upgrade

  Reuniting with his crew in Sabaody, it doesn't take too long for Luffy to find a way to show off the results of two years of training. He's been doing some grinding, so his skill tree has some new branches. He's unlocked some new abilities, and he's reached his evolved form. When a Pacifista comes at the Monster Trio (Luffy, Zoro, and Sanji,) they beat the bear out of it.

29. Luffy Decides To Make Fish-Man Island His Territory

    For the most part, Luffy doesn't really care about the dominance sought by other powerful characters. But after he's gotten to know the citizens of Fish-Man Island and he sees the terror caused by Big Mom, he tells her straight-up he's gonna defeat her and take Fish-Man Island under his protection. It's the closest that Luffy has ever gotten to being a character in Goodfellas.

  30. Luffy Allies With Law

  And then, shortly after talking trash to Big Mom, Luffy teams up with Trafalgar Law in a plot to overthrow Kaido, another Emperor of the Sea. It's a real leap forward for Luffy. One day, you're just a kid from East Blue punching everyone that seems mean. The next, you're taking an active role in changing the power structure of the entire world. That's just how it is sometimes, though. As Logic once said, "Who can relate?"

  31. Luffy Has Been "Picking Fights All Along"

    Luffy knows he doesn't just tumble from one situation to another. He isn't just a poor guy caught up in the gambits of powerful evil forces. No, Luffy has definitely chosen to live a life where he will interfere with your best-laid plans if he feels inclined to. And if that includes a lot of fighting, well, so be it.

  32. Luffy Reunites With Sabo

  It's been pretty much non-stop action since the beginning of the Post Time Skip era, and that hasn't really allowed for a ton of emotional moments for Luffy. But when he reunites with Sabo in the coliseum and his scream comes out as a mix of happiness, confusion, and surprise, he finally gets one. Cry it out, buddy. We love ya.

  33. Luffy And His Allies Head For Doflamingo

  From orchestrating a breakout in Impel Down to creating a charge toward Doflamingo with all the allies he met in the tournament to win the Flame-Flame Fruit, Luffy has slowly gone from being the captain of a small crew on a ship with an animal head on the front to being the full-on leader of a Pirate Alliance. Luffy 2020 is what I say.

  34. Luffy Goes Fourth Gear

  Years after the reveal of Second and Third Gear, we get Fourth Gear, a power-up that even more freakishly transforms Luffy's body. It's not graceful, nor is it particularly beautiful to behold, but it gets the job done.

  35. Luffy Beats Doflamingo

  Doflamingo — a man that's been a thorn in the side of nearly everyone in the world for about 15 years of anime history — finally gets taken down. And still, it's only a stepping stone to Wano. Somehow, Eiichiro Oda creates these moments that seem like the biggest events in history, and yet, they're only just the beginning.

  36. Luffy Refuses To Fight Sanji

  Luffy knows Sanji is conflicted and not really a bad guy. And he's also aware of the fact that he'll be creating an even bigger issue if he fights back against his chef. So he just takes the kicks, hoping Sanji sees there's another way out of this. Sadly, it'll be a few episodes before he realizes that.

  37. Luffy Waits For Sanji — And Then Punches — Sanji

    Sanji finding Luffy because his captain's stomach is grumbling super loud is so cartoonish and lovely — because what is Sanji's role if not to feed his captain? Of course, Luffy enjoys Sanji's rain-soaked cookin' and then he punches Sanji for still being a twerp that won't admit what he really feels.

38. Luffy Clashes With Big Mom

    Luffy stood beside Whitebeard, but this is his first real showdown with a Yonko. And it doesn't go very well. Big Mom is easily able to block him, which shows that, while Luffy has come a long way, he's still got a bit farther to go.

  39. Luffy Places The Hat On Katakuri

  Much like the previous covering of Sandersonia's shame, Luffy covers Katakuri's mouth with his hat after their duel. The two combatants fought and earned each other's respect. And so Luffy leaves Katakuri with his pride.

  40. Luffy Knows He's Arrived In Wano Due To The Swords

    That giant baboon is using a sword? Obviously this must be Wano, the land of samurai. That's Luffy logic at its most pure. 

  41. Luffy Promises Tama She Will Not Be Hungry Again

  For the most part, heading to Wano seemed like a pretty impersonal act. The only reason he thought about going there in the first place was because Law seemed pretty confident it was a solid idea. But then he meets Tama and learns that she — along with most of the country — is starving. So his journey to take down Kaido gets some personal stakes. He's now shouldering the hopes of an entire group of people.

  42. Luffy Is Beaten By Kaido

  OK, so Round 1 didn't go so well. Luffy pummeled Kaido with everything he had and Kaido one-shotted him with a melee weapon attack. Luffy has to rethink his strategy and expand his move-set and maybe, with some luck, Round 2 will be a tad more even. I can't wait to see what Luffy moments we have in store when One Piece returns!

  What is your favorite Luffy moment? Do any on this list stand out to you? Let me know in the comments!

      Daniel Dockery is a Senior Staff Writer for Crunchyroll. Follow him on Twitter!

  Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

  By: news+feed@crunchyroll.com

[ladyxxdaydream]

37. The two of you wear costumes from the same fandom at a costume party. (Yuri on Ice?)

Sorry it took me so long to get to this prompt, anon! Sadly, I’ve never seen Yuri on Ice (its on my list!!) so I had to go with a different fandom. Hope you like it!

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

#37 (from this prompt list here. Feel free to submit your own! I’ve already filled 20, 32, 47 & will be filling 2.)

Iruka walked into the party alone. Kotestu and Izumo opted to “watch scary movies” instead, which Iruka knew was code for fucking all night. They were still high off their new relationship. They’d invited him over, but he really wasn’t in the mood to be the third wheel while they made out and fondled each other under a blanket, waiting for a polite time to kick him out. Besides, he liked dressing up, and he thought he did a hell of a job on his costume this year.

Iruka prided himself on his craftiness, which was part frugality, part creativity. He already had the boots, and the navy pants. The blue tunic was fashioned from an old bed sheet. He brought the design to a friend in the theater department and asked her to stitch it up with white trim. All that was left was to bandage up his arms to his elbows, pull on a pair of fingerless blue gloves (the middle and index cut at the knuckle instead of the palm), and fasten the white choker around his neck—he’d ordered the flat, square wooden beads online, which were less than $5.

He made a damn fine Sokka.

Several people had already told him so on his walk over from the dorms. Some had even asked to snap a picture with him, which Iruka shyly obliged.

Upon entering the house, Iruka went straight to the kitchen and poured himself a beer from the keg. When he turned back to face the rest of the room, his eyes landed on a folding table lined with snacks. Iruka knew it was Kurenai’s idea, because Asuma didn’t have that kind of courtesy. What really caught his attention though, was the rather tall person in a fuzzy Appa suit.  It looked like a onesie for a 10-year old, given that it cuffed at the guy’s knee, revealing pale calves, instead of reaching his ankles. The flat, wide tail swayed as he moved. It was oddly adorable. Iruka wondered what kind of face went with that swath of silver hair.

His curiosity got the better of him.

“Nice costume,” Iruka said as he approached, biting into the rim of his red plastic cup to try and smother his smile.

The guy looked up from the table, and swept his eyes over Iruka in obvious assessment. It made a heavy kind of heat settle into his skin. Iruka wasn’t prepared to be met with someone so attractive.

“You too,” the guy said. “I see you’ve got excellent taste in television.”

“Did you get that in the kid’s section?” Iruka smirked. He couldn’t help himself. It was so incredibly dorky.  

“How’d you guess?” the guy grinned. “The best part is the hood.”

He pulled it up over his head, the arrow bisecting it through the middle, while two brown horns stood out on either side.

It was the cutest thing Iruka had ever seen in his life. His heart beat hard against his chest.

“Hm,’ Iruka hummed. “You’re missing a few legs.”

“Well, we can’t all look like professional cosplayers. Didn’t anyone tell you this was a halloween party? Your costume should either be slutty, cheap, or tacky, judging by the look of this crowd, and yours is none of the above. I went for cheap,” he said, placing a hand on his chest.

“Mine barely cost a thing. I made it. Minus the boomerang,” Iruka said, placing a hand on the object slung at his hip. “I bought that.”

“Huh. Look at you,” the silver-haired stranger said, clicking his tongue. “And you shaved the sides of your head for it, too? What dedication.”

“Ha,” Iruka laughed. “I had this hairstyle before today, believe it or not.”

“Hm. I don’t know if I do,” the guy said, narrowing his eyes at him a bit.

Iruka’s breath caught in his throat.

He’s flirting.

—

Kakashi was flirting. He couldn’t help himself. Not when this sexy fucking water tribe fantasy was standing right in front of him, dark skin and all. Admittedly, he’d searched for fan art of an older Sokka before and it definitely tickled his fancy. And uh, he may have bookmarks of Zukka in his browser, but this was… this was a million times better.

“Kakashi! I see you’ve met my brother!” Asuma all but shouted, slinging an arm around his interest’s shoulder.

It took everything in Kakashi not to scoff.

“He looks nothing like you,” Kakashi said bluntly, in pure disbelief that he’d be attracted to anyone related to Asuma. Asuma was about as far from his type as you could get. A loudmouth, grizzly jock, who ironically didn’t give a shit about his health, if his diet and terrible smoking habit were any indication.

“Yeah, well, he wouldn’t,” Asuma said, yanking his supposed brother’s neck to his chest, whose face flushed with embarrassment as Asuma rubbed his knuckles against his scalp. “He’s my adopted brother.”

The Sokka look-a-like gave Kakashi a weak smile beneath Asuma’s headlock.

“He’s a newbie. A freshman. Ain’t that right, ‘Ru?” Asuma said, letting him go.

“It’s my first year here, yes.” Asuma’s brother said, meeting Kakashi’s gaze for a second, before flicking his eyes down, smoothing out his costume. He readjusted his ponytail, giving Kakashi an opportunity to check out his biceps. Oof.

“I’ve been trying to get him to hang out with us forever, but he’s too busy with chess club and being…”—Kurenai walked by, derailing Asuma completely— “…gay…”

“Being gay? I’m too busy being gay?” Asuma’s brother deadpanned.

“Yeah, you know…” Asuma said, still staring at Kurenai. “You’re part of that organization or alliance or whatever… hey..” he said, bringing his attention back to them for a second. “I’ll be back.”

Yeah right, Kakashi thought, before Asuma left the both of them standing there. He wasn’t about to complain though; he could get back to flirting now, especially since he knew his interest was attracted to men.

“It must take up all your time. Being gay,” Kakashi teased.

“Yeah, my whole life really,” the younger man rolled his eyes with a laugh.

It was such a fascinating, genuine sound. It was full of warmth. Kakashi wanted to wrap himself up in it.

“Uh, Ru was it?” Kakashi asked, needing to know the name of the man he was quickly coming to adore.

The man blushed profusely, scratching at the scar that cut across his nose.

Shit. That was not helping.

“Ah. T-that’s a nickname. It’s Iruka.”

Iruka. Hm.

“Kakashi, if you didn’t catch it earlier.”

“It was hard not to with my brother’s dulcet tone,” Iruka said, sarcastically.

It was Kakashi’s turn to dissolve into laughter.

—

“I should… go home,” Iruka said, standing up from the couch, only to sway a bit. Kakashi placed a steadying hand on Iruka’s hip, before standing up himself.

“Uh, Iruka. You’re a little drunk.”

They had played a partnered game of beer pong (which Kakashi was excellent at, and Iruka well… Iruka tried), before settling into the couch to chat. That was over an hour ago.

Iruka swiveled towards him, bringing their faces a little too close for comfort. Kakashi tried to keep his eyes off Iruka’s lips.

“Am not,” Iruka protested.  

“Iruka, your eyes are so glassy, I could drink from them.”

They stared at each other for an awkward moment, as Kakashi wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole, before Iruka burst out laughing.

“That was weird as hell. How—what. Was that a pun on the word glass or were you saying you could literally suck liquid from my eyes beca—”

“Okay, I get it.” Kakashi cringed, feeling his cheeks heat up. “It was weird. I-I don’t know why I said that. It just happened. Will you,”—Kakashi took a deep breath—“let me walk you home? Please?”

Kakashi rubbed a hand at the back of his neck, feeling self-conscious. This damn fleece costume was making him sweat beneath Iruka’s stare.

Iruka huffed out another laugh, stifled by the way he was biting into his bottom lip.

“Okay.”

—

When they made it out to the sidewalk, Iruka appeared a little lost.

“What dorm are you living in?” Kakashi asked, as Iruka scrutinized a particularly large tree.

“Uzushio”

“It’s that way,” Kakashi pointed.

“I… knew that,” Iruka said, changing direction. “I was just… admiring nature…”

“Mhm. Sure.” Kakashi quipped, not believing him for a second.

Kakashi watched as Iruka not-so-gracefully began to walk, sparking an idea to pop into his head.

“Wanna ride me?” Kakashi asked, looking Iruka dead in the eyes with an impossibly straight face.

Iruka tripped over nothing, blushing all the way to his ears.

“E-excuse me?”

Kakashi knew what he said, and how he said it. It was completely worth it. He got the reaction he wanted. It was payback for Iruka embarrassing the hell out of him earlier—stupid glassy eyes comment.

“Do you want a ride? On my back?” Kakashi asked, innocently. “You look like you’re gonna fall over.”

Iruka studied him for a moment, his face scrunched up in contemplation. It looked like he was struggling to connect with the last of his brain cells.

“Stop overthinking it,” Kakashi laughed. “You look like you’re going to combust. Come on,” Kakashi said, bending his knees, offering his back.

There was a few seconds of hesitation before he heard Iruka move behind him.

“I’m heavy,” Iruka protested.

“I can handle you.”

He heard Iruka sputter.

Really, it was too easy.

“Do you need help getting yourself up Iruka?” Kakashi taunted him, which resulted in a sharp tug on his costume’s tail.

“Shut up,” Iruka said, hopping on top of him. He yanked the hood over Kakashi’s head in retribution.

“Hey,” Kakashi laughed, as he pushed himself to stand. “That’s covering my eyes. The whole point of me accompanying you home, is so that you get there safely.”

Iruka felt a wave of heat wash over him, as his crush increased tenfold.

“I-I wanted the full effect,” Iruka said, tugging on one of the plush horns, before he smoothed the hood back to Kakashi’s forehead, away from his eyes.

The real reason he pulled that damn hood up was because he needed a barrier between his face and Kakashi’s bare neck, lest he sunk his teeth into it.

Iruka smashed a smile into Kakashi’s shoulder, encircling his arms around Kakashi’s neck, before he picked up his head and said—

“Yip yip.”

—

Iruka woke up the next morning to find his facebook page blowing up.

Someone, a random girl apparently, had taken a picture of Iruka being carried on Kakashi’s back last night with a caption that read:

Cutest couples costume ever!!!

Asuma had tagged him.

[notwhelmedyet]

Dratchtember Day 4

Prompt: Love and War

Angst/Whump/AU: Ratchet finds himself captured by Decepticons and ends up fighting Deadlock to the death...unless rescue can get to both of them first. (also on ao3 here)

"Ratchet, don't do this," Skipshot whispered.

Ratchet pulled away and tried to give the kid a reassuring smile. "Sorry, Skip, I don't think this is an optional activity."

"Come on," the genericon said, grabbing Ratchet's collar by the train and trying to bodily haul him out of the cell. Ratchet's feet scrabbled on the smooth flooring, trying to keep up so the big lug didn't crush something important.

The Con dropped him at Bludgeon's feet and then settled back to lurk menacingly.

"It's been so long, doctor. I've been missing you," the Decepticon general said, optics promising that he still remembered everything* that had happened the last time Ratchet had suffered the misfortune of his hospitality. Comparatively, a fight to the death against one of these brutes promised to at least be short.

"Bludgeon, breaking ranks again, I see," someone sneered,. Ratchet knew that voice. It was -

"Deadlock, I told you to mind your tongue. I suggest you do so before I am forced to rip it out and feed it to you," Bludgeon growled.

Deadlock sauntered over, ignoring the glares of Bludgeon's guards with a smile on his lips. He paused beside Ratchet and looked at him for a for a long moment. "I just don't see how the entertainment value of watching this one bot die is worth what Megatron is going to do when he realizes you've fragged his prisoner exchange. He's a noncombatant, it wouldn't even be an interesting fight."

Bludgeon roared and lunged forward - frag, Ratchet had assumed a monster with that much bulk would move a lot more slowly - grabbing Deadlock around the throat and lifting him into the air. "You will be silent," Bludgeon roared. "It is not your place to question the orders of your commander."

Deadlock didn't look particularly concerned, given that Bludgeon could probably rip his head off his shoulders if he got riled enough. "You're not my commander. Telling you to back down was my orders," Deadlock hissed.

Bludgeon dropped him and Deadlock sprung back to his feet, stupid fragging smile still on his face.

"You are under my command and you will obey my orders," Bludgeon commanded. The air of petulance rather undermined the menace in his voice.

Deadlock stared at him.

Bludgeon stomped closer, pushing his grotesque face into Deadlock's. "Either you do what I say or I deliver back to Megatron a dead spy."

"Well, what are your orders?" Deadlock asked, amusement plain in his voice.

Bludgeon considered for a moment and then began to laugh. "You. You will fight him."

Deadlock glanced over at Ratchet again, triumph his his eyes, and Ratchet realized that this was the plan. Somehow. It didn't seem to make much of a difference who did the executing but maybe Deadlock was sentimental.

He'd not missed the...thing, between him and Deadlock. They'd crossed paths a few times, almost all of them in situations where Deadlock had every opportunity and often direct orders to render Ratchet dead and yet Ratchet was suspiciously not dead. Ratchet had tried not to fuel whatever this was but he was pretty sure Deadlock knew his...interest was returned. Not that Ratchet would ever do anything about it - Deadlock was the enemy and unless he wanted to defect that was the end of it, so far as Ratchet was concerned.

"If that's what you want, Bludgeon," Drift said. "Still not going to be a very interesting fight. But I'll try my best not to be killed by the unarmed noncombatant."

"You're right," Bludgeon said. "We should even the scales a little. Hand over your weapons, Deadlock."

Deadlock looked less than pleased at the suggestion but the troops on this ship were all Bludgeon's loyalists, even Ratchet could see that he didn't have much of a choice. Of course, a not evil army wouldn't have Bludgeon as one of their generals, which would rather prevent this kind of sticky situation.

Deadlock disarmed, passing the contents of a small armory to one of the surrounding genericons - two blasters, a sniper rifle, several grenades, an electrowhip and several knives that he'd had tucked under his plating.

Bludgeon waited until he was finished, and then took one of the knives and tossed it at the floor by Ratchet's feet. "This is for you," he said. "Try to put up a fight." Next he picked up one of the blasters, looking it over with a casual eye, like a mech inspecting an interesting bauble at a secondhand store. "And this is for you," he said, leveling the weapon and shooting Deadlock through the shoulder.

Deadlock went still, body rocking back from the impact and then returning to equilibrium. He looked so unaffected that for a moment Ratchet thought the neural feedback had knocked him offline. Then his optics flickered over towards Bludgeon and Ratchet recognized the sheer fury in his face. "Are you done?" Deadlock asked.

"I think I am," Bludgeon agreed. "Let us move on to the main event."

The guards formed ranks around Ratchet and Deadlock, their locked shoulders forming the ring. Ratchet wondered if the other prisoners could see him from their cell. He hoped not - this was probably going to be embarrassing and short. He ducked down to grab the knife and then surveyed his opponent. Deadlock was poking at the hole through his shoulder, but when he saw Ratchet staring he dropped down into a low crouch. "You waiting for something, doctor?" Deadlock asked.

And then he lunged at Ratchet.

Ratchet had learned how to fight from Roller, back in the day. Roller had emphasized to him, over and over, that maybe some people were talented at fighting and some weren't but the thing that mattered most was who had put in the work and practiced until they didn't need to think about what they were doing anymore. Ratchet could never get in that flow state for more than a few seconds at a time before his brain started outrunning him. Deadlock landed the first hit, whacking Ratchet on the back of the head and sending him stumbling.

Ratchet spun on his heel at jabbed at Deadlock, using his blade to keep him out of grappling range. Deadlock dodged backwards and someone in the crowd jeered.

There was a message in Ratchet's remote upload queue. He did not have time to read spam mail, not if he wanted to keep Deadlock from doing the fairly unpleasant things the anonymous 'Con in the crowd had just suggested. But Ratchet got lucky, managed to catch Deadlock's ankle as he was retreating away from Ratchet and sent him onto his aft. While Ratchet backpedaled he opened the message. Ratchet had always been too curious for his own good.

The message was a radio frequency and an encryption code. Ratchet locked optics with Deadlock, immediately certain of the source. Deadlock waved him on, like he was goading Ratchet to stab him. "Well, come on," he growled.

Ratchet tuned in to the frequency and set his decryption algorithm to the provided code. Immediately, Deadlock's voice was there in the back of his skull, like he was breathing down Ratchet's neck and whispering in his audial. >>Come on, come on, lunge already, they're going to notice.<< Deadlock hissed.

Ratchet wasn't in the habit of doing as he was told, but Deadlock was right. He charged and Deadlock slipped under his knife arm, grabbing him by the wrist and shoving him off balance. >>What are you doing?<< Ratchet radioed.

>>Buying time. Megatron knows. We've just got to survive until he gets here.<<

Deadlock bowled Ratchet over, throwing them both to the ground.

>>What are you doing?<< Ratchet asked again.

Deadlock scrabbled for the knife in Ratchet's hand.

>>Saving your life<< Deadlock replied. >>Do exactly as I say. Now swing for my head.<<

Deadlock rolled off of Ratchet to dodge.

>>Get up. Now.<<

Ratchet shoved himself to his feet, noise of the crowd fading away as Deadlock's voice filled his head.

>>Chain attached to your collar. Use it to catch my wrist.<<

Ratchet did it, dragged Deadlock's good arm into a lock at his command.

>>Good. Use the knife to pin that hand into my back.<<

Ratchet hesitated.

>>Ratchet, do it. I need both hands disabled to justify not killing you.<<

Ratchet did it. Deadlock screamed, the crowd howled, and the world felt like it was fracturing in two as the voice on the radio thanked him. Deadlock squirmed away from him, trying to climb back to his feet and falling twice. Ratchet followed the voice forward to grab Deadlock by the finials and slam his head twice against the ground.

>>Okay,<< Deadlock said. >>Bad news, I'm gonna bite you. Sorry.<<

Deadlock got his teeth into Ratchet's wrist and then there was fuel everywhere and they were both on their feet, trying circling and feinting in accordance with Deadlock's careful choreography. Ratchet knew how hard it was to kill a Cybertronian - it was certainly possible to kill a mech bare-handed but it wasn't easy. He was more worried that Deadlock was going to pass out.

>>They're coming. Few more minutes.<< Deadlock said, like most one-on-one fights didn't last less than a minute. Ratchet caught him around the neck with his elbow and used the leverage to shove the knife deeper into Deadlock's back, at his direction. The kid shuddered with the pain and Ratchet's spark twisted. Deadlock was the enemy and that was the end of it. That was supposed to be the end of it.

>>Why are you doing this?<< He asked.

>>Love makes people do stupid things.<< Deadlock said. >>Fuck that hurt. Push your advantage, if you shove forward I'm going to fall. Do it.<<

>>I don't want to hurt you.<<

>>Now do it now do it now!<< Deadlock roared and Ratchet threw them forward, hitting the ground just as the first shots went off overhead. Laserfire, hopefully the cavalry. Ratchet covered his head and stayed low, pretended he didn't notice that doing so meant shielding Deadlock with his body.

>>Nobody's looking,<< Deadlock said over their radio link. >>Rescue's coming. Last chance, doc.<<

>>Last chance to what?<< Ratchet asked.

>>Well, you could kill me. Or you could kiss me. Take your pick.<<

That first stolen kiss was barely half a second. Megatron's loyalists were on them too soon, pulling them apart, sending Ratchet back with the other prisoners to be exchanged back for Soundwave. Deadlock's radio signal faded as Ratchet was carried back across the hold of the ship, like a signal decaying across miles or lightyears. >>You better not die,<< Ratchet said, though he was pretty sure Deadlock was unconscious and could no longer hear him. >>You didn't even kiss me back.<<

[holy-kpop-hoe]

Appaloosa || Pt. 1

Disclaimer: co-written with @violentredroses

Pairing: sheriff! Yoongi x reader x outlaw! Namjoon

Genre: angst, smut, drama, romance

Word Count: +5k

Warnings: references of death of a loved one, references to injuries, fist fight, Yoongi loses his mind, minor smut at the end;

Synopsis: Yoongi’s life as the sheriff of Appaloosa City takes a turn with the return of an old friend. When the woman he loves goes missing, Yoongi will have to make a decision between his duty and his heart. Either way, he is bound to lose something.

Pt.1 –> Pt.2 –> to be continued

Also posted on AO3

(Special thanks to my beta readers and reviewers @kpopcinnamonswirlroll @supersailorrapmon @starryjo0n and @btssavedmylifeblr  Without your advice and opinions, this fic would not exist. Also, my beta that turned co-writer @violentredroses this fic wouldn’t be half of what it is without your help. Thank you so much to all of you! <3)

Soft snores echo through the brick building, mixing with the buzz of flies. A light breeze comes through the open door ruffling the papers on the desk and walls of the sheriff's station. Said sheriff sits on a wooden chair behind the desk, feet up on the table and cowboy hat covering his face. A brown mutt sleeps next to a jail cell, and inside a middle-aged man lays on a wooden bench, beer bottle in hand.

The smell of alcohol fills the room, mixed with the unpleasant stench of piss and sweat coming from the cell. The heat only strengthened the scent, but this didn’t disturb the sleeping men. After being there so long, they’d grown used to the stuffy air.

The dog's ears stand up hearing an outside sound, and he barks at the intruder bursting through the door.

“Sheriff, come quick, Madam Ho needs you!” the newcomer is a young boy, brown hair a mess and face red from running in the heat.

“Sir, wake up!”

The town's sheriff grumbles in his half-asleep state, taking his feet off the table with a thud.

“It better be good,” He groans when the daylight hits his eyes. “What's the problem, boy?”

“Some man is keeping Miss Rosa in a room,” he shrugs. “I tried to help, but Madam Ho told me to call you instead.”

“Hmm, I see.”

The man stands up and stretches his stiff limbs from sleeping in the uncomfortable chair, petting his dog that comes greeting him with a wagging tail. Grabbing a metal cup, he hits the bars of the jail cell behind him, wincing when the sound hits him straight in the brain. He unlocks the door.

“Rise and shine, Earl!”

The man asleep in the small compartment jumps and falls to the ground, empty beer bottle rolling away from him.

He slowly stands, a stream of curses directed at the sheriff falling through his teeth.

“Am I good to go?”

“Yeah, just stop picking drunk fights with horses and I'll never have to see your ugly face again.”

The older man laughs and limps out of the cell, making his way to the outside door.

“Yes, sir,” and he leaves.

The lawman grabs a whiskey bottle from a shelf and takes a big gulp, approaching the boy with uneasy steps and ruffling his hair. He smirks at the boy.

“You did well coming to me, kid,” he grabs a shotgun from a near wall. “Show me the way.”

He closes his eyes with a grunt as soon as they step outside, the torturous feeling of adjusting to the sunlight.

The sun is at his highest peak, Appaloosa City vibrates with activity. From street vendors to outsiders, people went about their daily lives. A quiet peacefulness often remains over the town, rarely disturbed or rowdy. Sheriff Yoongi Min never came across a problem he couldn’t fix in Appaloosa City. Wood buildings occupy the sides of the street, where the dust rises from the passing of wagons, people and animals. Children run around playing, men with stern faces and long jackets walk by on their horses. A group of women milked their goats under the shadow of a porch, the goats’ bawls hitting his ears.

The boy runs in front of him, eager to show him the way. The man is greeted by multiple people along the path, which makes him grin at the boy's growing impatience.

They finally get to the town's saloon, entering the main room through the swinging doors. The bar is filled with mostly empty tables and chairs at this hour of the day. The old bartender is the only person seemingly sober and awake in the building.

“Mornin’, sheriff,” the bartender stops cleaning the bar. “Madam Ho is waitin’ for you upstairs. I bet it’s just another drunk looking for trouble.”

“I don’t doubt it for a second, Billy,” Yoongi tells him, passing by random men sleeping at the tables. He's halfway upstairs when a woman appears.

“Yoongi Min, I thought I'd have to go and get you myself!” she is dressed impeccably in a black and red dress. Her hair up, her black corset shaped her form and highlighted her cleavage. It’d be tough for Yoongi to ignore them. “Come over here!”

“Good morning to you too, Jessi,” he, stopped by her side. “What happened?”

She huffs and leads him through a dimly lit corridor, closed doors on either side. They stop at one of the last doors, a small crowd of women in various stages of undress already at the front.

“Get out of the way, girls,” orders Madam Ho. “The man is here.”

The women get away from the door upon noticing their arrival, a red-haired one winking at the sheriff who just smirks in response.

Yoongi closes his fist and bangs at the door. “This is the sheriff, open the door!”

A muffled sound is heard from the other side until a man's voice is made clear.

“No, I'm not leaving without her!”

Yoongi sighs at recognizing the voice. It was not the first time he did something like this.

“C'mon Johnny, not again. Let her go, and I promise I won't take you with me this time.”

More muffled sounds get to his ears, and Yoongi sees himself starting to get impatient. In the three years he has been sheriff, things like this tend to happen. Men who delude themselves into thinking the prostitutes they pay to fuck actually love them.

“This is your final warning, Johnny!” he takes his fingers to his lips and whistles. “Open the door, or the next thing you know Holly will be biting your ass!” As if waiting for his call, the dog in question stops next to his owner, tail wagging. “Oh, look who's here!” He waits for acknowledgment on the other side, “Johnny?”

The door creaks open, a woman's face appearing instead of the one he hoped for. An amused smile is on her face.

“He ran away through the window, the pendejo.”

Yoongi smirks and enters the small bedroom, stopping by an open window. He looks three meters down, where a boy no older than eighteen is trying to jump over a fence. Yoongi laughs, shaking his head.

“You really have to be a fool to make the same stupid ass move a third time!” he calls down, grinning.

The boy freezes, shoulders falling in embarrassment and defeat. He slowly turns around, eyes on the floor.

“I...forgot.”

Yoongi scoffs. “Yeah, I can see that,” he says while extending an arm. “Get over here before I arrest you for invading private property.”

He follows Yoongi’s command, using his arm to pull himself up to the bedroom. Johnny nervously looks at the dog awaiting him once he climbs the window. Holly happily wags his tail upon seeing the familiar face. The women had long gone back to their daily routines, except for Madam Ho who stood by the door frame.

“I swear to God, Johnny Seo, I’ll castrate you myself if you don’t stop keeping my girls after hours!” she screams, hands on her hips and fire in her eyes. She poked her index finger into his chest as he paled, mumbling excuses under his breath. “No buts!” she sighs. Fixing her hair and extending a hand in his direction, she demands, “Pay me the money you owe me and go.”

Yoongi promptly drops money in her open hand. “Here’s your money, now let’s go,” he says, grabbing the boy by his shoulders and guiding him out of the bedroom.“You really need to stop this,” he tells Johnny once in the hallway.

“But I love her, Sir.”

“Yeah yeah, now it’s Rosa, last month was Tiffany, and next month might be Billy the bartender.”

They are going down the stairs, dog in tow, when the man behind the counter laughs loudly. “You again? Don’t you ever learn, son?” he asked upon seeing the person the sheriff was dragging.

The boy continues to look at the ground in embarrassment, ears red and posture slumped. Yoongi laughs with him. “You know our loverboy. He just can’t stay away,” he smiles. “Have a nice day, Billy.”

They pass through the swinging doors of the saloon into the heat outside. Yoongi continues guiding him through the mix of amused and curious people, all the way to the sheriff station. There he drops the boy on a chair and takes a seat behind his desk, throwing his hat on the table and taking a gulp from a flask in his vest pocket.

“Johnny, you really have to stop,” he says while trying to look the boy in the eyes. “Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he says sternly before they lock eyes. “They don’t love you, Johnny. You pay to fuck them and that’s it. No more, no less.”

Johnny slumps in his chair, an expression of defeat on his face. It wasn’t the first time he was scolded for wanting to run away with one of Madam Ho’s doves.

“Yeah…”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow. “Yes what?” he asks.

“Yes, sir...I won't do it again.”

“For the sake of your poor mother, I really hope not. If you want a girl so badly, try to get a farmer's daughter or something.” Yoongi took another sip from his flask,“Your mother would be happy to see you married to a nice girl.”

The boy just shrugs, already more relaxed, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Weren't you married once?” he asks.

Yoongi nearly chokes on the drink, coughing violently in hope of breathing air again instead of whiskey. “I was...engaged. Once,” he coughs again. “A long time ago.”

“What happened?”

The sheriff quickly jumps on his feet, raising the boy from his chair and pushing him to the door. “None of your damn business. Now go home to your momma before I decide to throw your ass in jail.”

Johnny is quick in leaving the sheriff station, saying goodbye and making his way home. Yoongi stays outside watching the boy go, taking a moment to just look around and put his thoughts in order. There wasn’t a day that went by without him thinking about Roseanne. About him. The pain and grief in his heart remained very present even after five years. Memories of that terrible night tormented him and filled his dreams with blood and screams. Yoongi wasn’t proud of the man he had become, constantly drinking and spending his money on gambling and prostitutes. But he was that man now.

His thoughts are interrupted by a young man guiding a horse he recognizes immediately.

“Howdy, sheriff,” greets the newcomer. “Here is your horse, all taken care of.”

“My girl!” he beams happily, running his hands through the neck of the white and brown Appaloosa. The mare lets out a greeting huff, rubbing her nose on his arm. “Thank you so much, Jungkook, “ he smiles at the younger man. “For a moment I thought I would have to put Shooky down.”

“It was just a colic,” Jungkook smiled. “Some walking on the paddock and she’s back to full health,” he explains, lightly patting the mare’s neck.

Jungkook Jeon was a young man in his twenties, with raven hair and big doe eyes. He had shown up in town looking for work about two months ago, with only a bag and the clothes on his back. He was surprisingly good with horses, so he’d quickly get a job on a nearby breeding farm.

“I'm glad she's ok,” said Yoongi. “So, how you holding up at the Kents farm?”

Jungkook scratches behind his head, a faint smile on his lips. “It's hard work, but at least I have a roof under my head and three meals a day,” he shrugs. “I like it here.”

Yoongi hums in approval, patting the boy's shoulder. “That's good,” he says, taking the reins from his hands and tying the mare to a wooden pole. “By the way, have you found the horses that ran away last week?”

Jungkook shakes his head,“Not yet, sir.”

“That's a shame,” says the sheriff .“Actually, it’s nice that you're here. I have some matters concerning your boss.”

“Well, follow me. Ben and Jimin are loading up the cart now.”

Both began walking in direction of a wagon a few meters away, where two men loaded multiple crates of supplies in the back. One of them stood big and tall, ripped muscles under dark brown skin. Thick lips stretched in a bright smile upon seeing the men approaching them. The other is way shorter compared, black hair showing under a hat and a lean body shining with sweat from the overbearing heat.

“Hey there, sheriff Min!” greets the shorter one with an eye smile.

“Nice to see you, Jimin,” says Yoongi with a tilt of his hat. “Hey, Ben.”

“Yoongi!” the tall man drops a box at the back of the wagon and approaches the smaller man. His big hand makes Yoongi nearly lose his balance in a few pats. “Tonight is poker night at Billy's. You coming?”

The sheriff laughs and shakes his head, “Every night is poker night for me, Ben.”

The men finish loading the cart with the help of Yoongi and Jungkook. Talking about mundane things and news from nearby counties, they finished the work in no time. After that, they all hop in the back and Jimin takes the driver's seat, flicking the reins and the mules began walking. The rest lays between the boxes and sacks of goods organized at the back, just enjoying the ride and the warm breeze.

“So Jimin, how does it feel to be back in town?” asks Yoongi.

Jimin Park was born in Appaloosa City, just like himself, but moved after the house fire that took his father’s life. He returned about two weeks ago and was quick at finding a job in the nearby farms. They always need cowboys to care for the cattle and protect the property.

“It feels...strange,” he answers with a shrug, eyes on the road. “All looks the same but I feel like everything changed in the four years I’ve been away.” He looks back at Yoongi and smiles, “You’re the sheriff now! How did that happen?”

Yoongi accepts an apple that Ben throws to him, brushing it on his shirt and looking at the fruit with a thoughtful expression. “Well, after - you know - I started helping the old sheriff and some marshals in law duty. One of them made me a deputy after about a year and a half,” he bit into the apple and continues talking, “Then sheriff Canton died - rest his soul - and the town decided I was the best replacement for some reason.”

“Our sheriff is a good one, boys,” Ben told them.“You know that gunfight in Rose Creek? He was there! This little guy shot down one guy from high up in the chapel! Headshot straight through, no lie!”

“Wow, that's impressive!” exclaims Jungkook. “I heard it was two hundred of the best gunslingers money can buy against a few lawmen and a bunch of farmers.”

Yoongi gives a last bite on his apple, holding what's left before throwing it far away.“Actually, it was eighty men against some of the best lawmen of this country and a town of armed people. It’s not as big as people make it.”

“Still amazing,” says Jimin.

They continued talking through the rest of the ride until they reached the farm. “We're here.”

A brick house is the main building, surrounded by smaller wooden houses and barns, paddocks and stables full of Appaloosa horses. Several men are seen working. They either train the stallions, clean the saddles or walk around doing other various tasks. Jimin stops the wagon right in front of one of the barns, where a group of men come and start unloading the back of the cart. Yoongi says his goodbyes and walks in direction of the main house. He's about to step on the balcony when the door opens and he's greeted by an unfamiliar face.

“Oh, hi,” she's young with a pretty face. An even prettier smile stretches out in surprise at the sheriff, who can do nothing but stare at her. “Are you here to see my uncle?” she looks around, a little uncomfortable when he doesn't respond. “Hmm, hello?”

Yoongi snaps out of his daydream with a shake of his head, a faint pink coloring his cheeks.

“Yes, hi, I'm here to see Mr. Kent, yes.”

She smiles again, the early awkwardness fading slightly. “He's in his office. Who should I say is asking for him?”

“Yoongi,” he says, taking his hat and bowing. “Sheriff Yoongi Min, Miss…?”

“Y/N,” she says, giving a small curtsy. “Nice to meet you Sheriff, please follow me. I’ll take you to him.”

She turns her back and goes inside the house, Yoongi close behind. They pass by a kitchen, where women are cooking something that makes his mouth water. When they pass the living room, he spots a lady reading a book to a child on her lap. A tired grin comes over her face once she spots the newcomers.

“Sheriff, what a nice surprise,” she drops the book by her side and raises from the chair. The child at her hip, she asks,“What brings you to the farm? And I see you've met my niece, Y/N.”

Yoongi tilts his hat, “I'm afraid being a man of the law is what brings me to the farm today, Elizabeth. And yes, your niece is quite lovely.”

“Well, it's always a pleasure to have you here, Sheriff.” The child suddenly starts crying, instantly calling for his mother's attention, “I'm sorry, little Harry has been feeling sick these past few days.” She raises her eyes again, “Maybe you can stay for dinner?”

“I don't want to be a bother…”

“Nonsense, it’s no bother.” She turns her attention to her niece, “Darling, please tell Nancy we'll be having a guest for dinner tonight.”

Y/N nods at her and leaves the room, Yoongi watching her leave. His gaze doesn't linger long before he turns to her aunt. ”I’m guessing John’s in his office?”

“Yes,” she nods. “You can go up and see him. You know where he is.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.”

Bidding her goodbye, he makes his way up the stairs to the man of the house. Mr. John Kent is the biggest, richest horse breeder in their county. Tall and lean, his salt and pepper hair show his age, wrinkles around his kind brown eyes. The bittersweet cigar scent hits his nose the second he opens the door. Sitting at his desk in front of a log book, John only glances up at Yoongi before returning to his books. “Morning, Yoongi,” he says in a gruff voice, “Is it that time of the month already?”

“Yup, ‘tax season’,” Yoongi shuts the door and stares at him. “You gonna hand it over or do I gotta use my badge?”

John leans back in his seat, hand slowly going down into the dresser. “I don’t know, Sheriff,” John says, “It’s been a slow month.”

“About to get even slower…” he locks eyes with him as he reaches down to his side.

“...Oh really?”

They stay perfectly still for a moment, eyeing each other hard. Suddenly, they lift their hands simultaneously, but John says it first. “BANG!” he beams at Yoongi, his fingers posed in the shape of a gun. “Gotcha, kid.”

“You win again, John,” Yoongi sighs, putting down his own finger gun.

“You gotta be quick with me, son. You gotta be quick,” he chortled. Turning to his drawer, he pulls out an envelope. “There’s the money. It’s all there.”

Yoongi moves to the desk and takes the envelope. He doesn’t bother opening it as he’s trusted John all these years. “Stay and have a drink, Yoongi,” John says, closing his log book. “You haven’t been down here in ages.”

“Been busy with Sheriff business, you know?” Yoongi takes a seat in front of him, taking off his hat and relaxing back. “Rounding up drunkards, pulling boys out of Madame Ho’s place, the usual stuff.”

“Oh, you sound like you got your hands full,” John quips. Pouring whiskey for them both, they clink their glasses and begin talking.

Dinner time finally comes around and both men make their way into the dining room.

The members of the Kent family are already at the dinner table. Elizabeth sat on one end of the table, while Y/N and two of John’s sons took up one side. The infant sat by his mother and their teenage daughter sat by an empty seat for Yoongi. Servants place a fine dinner before them complete with John’s best wine. The conversation started the usual way, Elizabeth asking about the town’s business and John commenting on the other horse breeders in the area. Yoongi couldn’t remember the last time he ate a real meal. One can only eat rabbit, beans and bread for so long. After dinner they took to the living room, Elizabeth having already put the youngest Kents to bed.

“So Sheriff, any problems with bandits lately?” asks Frank, John’s oldest son. “I was at Virgin Valley for business last week, and it seems that they've been having some problems with outlaws.”

“Bandits?” Yoongi shakes his head, “Not in my county.” He takes a sip of the brandy John poured him,“Virgin Valley is three counties north. I doubt they'll come here.”

“But what if they come?” asks Y/N. She’s sitting close to a window, eyes focused on nothing specifically. Yoongi notices how tense she looks, fists closed and eyes glossy. “What happens then?”

“I can assure you, Miss, no harm will come to you if they come close to town.” He continues looking at her, admiring how the room’s light makes her glow. He hadn’t seen someone this alluring since...No, he pushed that from his head. “I take my job as the sheriff very seriously, Miss.”

“I really hope so, Sheriff,” she answers back, now looking at Yoongi. “Well, if you'll excuse me, I’m going to sleep now.” Y/N raises from her chair and goes in direction of the living room door, stopping there for a few moments. “Goodnight uncle, cousins. And goodnight, Sheriff, a pleasure to meet you.” She leaves the room, and Yoongi keeps his eyes on where she’d stood.

“You have to excuse my niece, Yoongi.” John says with a sigh, “She’s still grieving the loss of her brother and father, my brother, at the hands of criminals. Her mother thought it’d be best for her to spend some time with us to take her mind off of things.”

Yoongi nods, lips in a straight line. “I’m sorry for your loss, John. I know how close you and Jimmy were.”

“Thick as thieves,” John nodded. “We used to run with your dad in the old days. Ha, those were the times! We’d spend days riding around, shooting at cans and chasing girls. Your dad and I grew out of that whole rebel phase. Jimmy didn’t.”

It’s not long before Yoongi says his goodbyes and leaves back to town, Ben accompanying him, both ready for poker night. Yoongi stops his borrowed horse in front of the saloon, tying the animal to a pole and leaving with a pat on its neck. The saloon is the only building buzzing with activity at this hour of the night, the sounds of laughter and loud conversation coming from inside.

Both men make their way through the swinging doors, people greeting them as they enter. Poker night appears to have started without them. Men sit at tables putting down cards, tossing money into piles or chugging down a beer throughout the bar. Scantily dressed women walk around looking for a new customer, a redhead walking to Yoongi.

“Hey there, Sheriff,” she grins. “Want a little bit of company at your table?”

“Not while I'm playing, Beth. I'd rather have you in a bed instead,” he smirks, pulling her a lips distance closer.

She giggles, “Oh Yoongi, you little devil. Just give me a holler when you're done with the farmers. I think I make for a much better time.” She winks and saunters away, already moving to another potential customer.

“She's something, huh?” Ben watches her. “I think she's a little sweet on you, Sheriff.”

“The only thing Beth is sweet on is my wallet. Come on, let's get to a table.”

Both men sit at a table with the usual customers, and poker night starts. Beers coming and going, winning and losing money, maybe some fun with a lady. That is the routine, and Yoongi can’t say he hates it. He just wishes things were a little different.

The Saloon turns into a place of furor after a few hours, the patrons way past a state of intoxication. The previous socialization was taken by commotion, and little arguments erupt and mix with the loud laughs and voices of men and women.

“You hijo de puta!” exclaims a man in a rough voice while slamming a hand of cards on the table. “You’re cheating aren’t you, cabron?”

“My dear Garcia, I’m the sheriff,” Yoongi smirks halfway of taking a sip from his bourbon. “I would never cheat.”

The burly man looks at Yoongi with a frown and a raised brow. “So tell me how you’ve been winning almost every game since you got here.”

“What can I say, I’m good with my hands,” he answers, winking at the woman sitting in Ben’s lap.

She erupts in a fit of giggles and Yoongi smirks, asking for another drink from the bar. Garcia just continues mumbling through his teeth, and a new game begins.

“So Sheriff, have you heard of the bandits causing trouble lately?” asks an old man, eyes focused on his cards while chewing tobacco. “I heard the bastards robbed a train next county over!”

Yoongi sighs, “I’ve heard of them, Patrick.” He throws down his cards, collective grunts coming from the rest. He collects the money from the table, and they start the next round. “From what I know they’re far from here, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Let them come, Yoongi,” Ben slurred, “I know you’ll send their asses to hell!” Hugging the woman on his lap, the two of them laugh together.

“If you say so,” he pats Ben’s shoulder. “How about you end the night here, hm?” He turns to the woman, giving her money. “Go show him a good time, darling. I’m paying.”

She smiles with a wink and stands, taking the big drunken man by the hand and leaving the table. The remaining men start a new game, the conversation flowing together with the drink.

“I’m telling you, Sheriff, those outlaws are no good,” Patrick continues as he tosses coins into the pile. “I heard they rob and kill at will,” he spits into the spittoon beside him before continuing. “People say they’re demons and the leader is the devil himself!”

“Patrick, they are just normal men who will one day answer for their crimes,” Yoongi scoffs. “They aren’t demons.”

“What do you know, boy?” this time it’s Garcia talking, his eyes focused on his beer. “I’ve seen them,” he looks Yoongi in the eyes. “My brothers and I were riding down here from Harrison County when we saw them two years ago. From what people said after, they disappear and reappear like smoke. When they rob a bank or a train, they leave nothing left but death and destruction. They’re like ghosts. Nobody knows their names or seen them barefaced. My brothers and I tried helping the people on the train, you know, getting on board and trying to stop it. But the bandits, they outnumbered us and we had to get off. Julio got shot in the leg so bad they had to cut it off.”

“You really have drunk too much, Garcia.”

“I know what I saw!” he banged on the table with a closed fist. “I almost died that night!”

“How are you alive then?” asks Yoongi with a mocking expression.

“God saved me that day, gracias a el!” He fully turns to the sheriff, a heated look in his eyes. “I was dying but I remember the red claw marks across his cold white eye! If The Rangers hadn’t found me I would-”

“Wait what?” Yoongi freezes, eyes locked on his face. He couldn't have just heard that. There was no way in Hell Garcia had seen him. “Say that back,”

“If The Rang-”

“No, before that!” There’s a fire in Yoongi’s eyes when he stands, getting closer to him.

“Red...claw marks…” Garcia hesitates, gulping at the sheriff's expression. “Across... his white... eye.”

Nothing would have prepared Garcia for what happened next. People would gossip after that night, telling how Sheriff Yoongi Min lost his mind and incarnated The Devil.

In a blind fury, Yoongi rains a harsh blow on his face.

“You’re lying!” he screams in the older man’s face, his fist connecting with his jaw for the third time. “YOU SICK FUCK! TELL ME THE TRUTH!”

A group of patrons step in to take the furious Yoongi from a crying and bloodied Garcia. Yoongi only sees red, memories he rather forget coming back full force. He recalls her blood slipping through his fingers and the hoarseness ripping through his throat. He saw the one person he hated the most. His white eye slashed through by claw marks came and went, and Yoongi screams even more rage shook throughout his body and his eyes are glossy with unshed tears. He should have killed him when he had the chance. He thought he’d died. He thought he’d gone over. The idea of him being alive...He gave another holler into the air before a hand touches his shoulder. He flinches to see Beth standing behind him, a worried look on her face.

“Yoongi, sweetheart, what happened?”

Yoongi looks at her, eyes unfocused and adrenaline kicking in. He needs something right now, and he knows she can give it to him. He grabs her wrist and she yelps.

“Yoo-!”

He kisses her hard, pressing her body into his. “I need to fuck you right now,” he says in barely controlled whispers. She nods and he doesn’t waste any time in dragging her upstairs.

Yoongi brings her into the nearest open bedroom. Slamming the door shut, he looks to her by the bed. He doesn’t waste a single second. He pushes her onto the bed and settles between her legs. Beth makes no objections to his eager hands and bruising kisses. Grinding into her a few times, he already hardened against her.

“Yoongi!” she giggles, “I’ve never seen you like this before! What’s gotten into you?”

“You don’t want to know,” he growls.

He kissed up her neck to her ear, where he tugged a bit too harshly. Beth didn’t expect what happened next. In a swift second, Yoongi tore at the chemise covering her chest, not bothering to untie her underbust corset. He lost himself in her. He focused on her perky breasts and hard nipples. He sucked and licked them until he had her squirming beneath him before moving downwards. She squealed with delight once his hand sunk between her legs, quickly rubbing at her wet folds. She was nothing like Roseanne, but she did in a pinch. Her tightness enveloped him nicely, squeezing his shaft in every thrust. He kept his pace quick and hard. It was as if every thrust pushed the memories further and further away. His mind swam in drink and sex, but he didn’t fight it off. He had Beth any way he could until he pumped out smoke. He knew he’d owe her much more than the usual fee in the morning.

He’d pay any amount of money to forget the night he lost Roseanne.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Attack on Lycan 3

Stalking through the hallways, Levi glared openly at everyone he passed. Thanks to Eren's sudden appearance and segregation from the rest of the soldiers, he'd become the focus of an endless amount of rumours... so as the kids baby sitter, he'd been dragged into the mess the brat had caused. Erwin needed to do something about this, or more than once person was going to find their wagging tongue cut from their shitty mouths.

Not bothering with knocking, Levi entered Erwin's office with a low growl

"Levi, I've been expecting you"

"Of course you have"

Rolling up his sleeve, Erwin held out his left arm

"I'm not here for that"

"You always get so cranky when you don't eat"

"I'm not here for that. I'm here for because of that shitty brat"

"Giving up already?"

"No, but there's something wrong with him"

"Other than he can turn into a Lycan?"

"It's his smell. According to Hanji, the kid stinks like a wet dog"

Erwin frowned at him, his commander lowering his arm as he did

"Is that not the case?"

"No. He smells sweet, too sweet. There's something in his scent that's making my teeth ache"

Leaning back in his chair, Erwin's frown deepened

"He smells sweet?"

"He smells like blood"

Normally "sweet" and "blood" didn't belong together, but he had no other way to describe the teen's scent. Eren had been walking through castle, trailing that sweet smell all over the place, while completely oblivious to its effects. It was unsettling to say the least, and left him uneasy

"I see. What did Hanji say?"

"She said Eren has developed scent glands on both his neck and inner thighs"

"We already knew he wasn't human, but I wasn't expecting this. We'll need to have Hanji conduct a biopsy on these glands, and for now, he'll need to use scented soaps and keep his neck covered"

"That might have to wait. Eren seems to be sick. Hanji reported Eren felt warm and he admitted to not feeling well"

"Why didn't you bring this to my attention straight away? We can't risk him being sick and his condition speaking"

Pushing his chair back hard enough for it to grate loudly against the wooden floor, Erwin rose to his full height

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To check on him. If this is contagious, we need to act immediately"

"That doesn't mean you personally need to check on him. In fact, it's all the more reason for you to stay away"

Erwin was their leader, despite his obvious need for answers, putting himself in harms was an unacceptable risk as far as Levi was concerned

"It's my duty as commander to ensure the safety of the personal under my command"

Striding from behind his desk and across the room, Erwin was clearly not going to listen to him, so what was the point in arguing the matter further.

*

The moment Erwin opened the door that lead down to the basement cell, they were both hit with an odour so thick that Levi could taste it on his tongue. Pulling his cravat free, Levi tied it around his face to cover his nose and mouth. The smell had him practically giddy, like a cat with catnip. Erwin on the other hand was openly gagging

"I'll go"

Shaking his head, Erwin pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and held it against his face. Given all they'd seen and experienced, it must be truly revolting for the man to go to such lengths.

By the time they reached Eren's cell, Levi's body felt leaden. His skin was crawling knowing he would come out of this smelling like Eren, yet the sweetness that swirled around him had all but robbed him of his rationality. But whatever he was feeling was driven from his mind when his eyes finally found Eren hiding under his bed while in his wolf form. It was like the brat was seriously injured, as long whimpers and whines fell between small pants and huffs

"Get Hanji down here. We need to know what's going on"

"We can't let her in with him while he's like this, there's no telling what he might do"

"Do you have a better idea?"

"Let me shoot him. I'll make it quick, he'll be dead before he even realises"

"No... I don't think his goal is to hurt us. He seems more in pain, as if he's the one who's hurting"

"What? The shitty brat couldn't survive a 6km jog? He wouldn't have made it this far if he couldn't survive basic training"

As if finally noticing they were there, Eren dragged himself from under his bed, before making his way towards them on very unsteady legs. Reaching the bars, the teen slid his muzzle through and let out a long whine

"Eren. Nod your head if you can understand us"

Whining again, Eren dropped heavily to the floor. Great. The last thing they all needed was for the brat to drop dead under unusual circumstances

"Levi. Go find Hanji"

"Will you be able to stomach the smell?"

Giving him a stern and somewhat disapproving look, Levi nodded before turning away from Eren. Whatever this was, he wanted no part in it.

Word of the foul odour must have already reached Hanji, as he'd barely set foot into the hallway before walking squarely into her

"Whoa! Levi, are you ok?"

"It's that brats stench. He's gone and shifted into a wolf"

Hanji practically squealed with excitement, the loud cry stabbing into his brain with all the gentleness of a thousand knives. Swaying on his feet, he was embarrassed by the fact that Hanji had to catch him

"Levi, have you eaten?!"

"I'm fine. It's the smell. I'll go get something to eat after this is dealt with"

"If it's affecting you this badly..."

"Drop it shitty glasses. Just do your job so I can do mine"

Hanji hummed, some how managing to look concerned over his welfare, but excited over Eren's wolf form at the same time. When they said he shifted, he was expecting to see a more werewolf form, not this shaggy brown wolf that looked like it'd gotten on the wrong side of a hunters trap. He'd seen more appealing half starved mutts running around in the underground. Following Hanji silently down the stair, he kept a hand firmly against the wall as they went.

"Hanji. You're here rather fast"

While Hanji disregarded the fact Erwin's hand was in Eren's mouth, Levi couldn't help but feel that was the whole reason his commander was down here. Being an ordinary man had always been a bitter pill for Erwin to swallow, and now Eren had shown up from no where, and with this never before seen gift

"Levi, can you unlock the cell for me?"

"Can't you just examine him through the bars?"

"No. I need to take samples, and I need to make sure he isn't injured"

"Wouldn't he heal if he was?"

"Levi, unlock the cell. I've got a firm hold on Eren's mouth, so there's very little he can do to hurt Hanji"

"He could just bite through your hand"

"I doubt he wants to"

Following Erwin's orders, Levi held the door open for Hanji, before locking it after she was inside the cell. There was no he was dealing with any unnecessary paperwork, or the potential fall out from his friends being idiots. Keeping his eyes on Hanji, she didn't even hesitate as she walked over to Eren, before kneeling down and placing both her hands on the boys pelt

"Wow. He's so soft. I mean, he looks like he'd be all wiry, but he's super soft. Levi, you should feel this"

"Or I could not, and you could do your damn job"

Rolling her eyes, Hanji's hands moved across Eren's stomach

"Eren, I want you to whimper if it hurts"

Given Eren was already whimpering, Levi was pretty much certain Hanji hadn't thought this through.

From his stomach, Hanji had then moved to Eren's mouth, before working her way down his whole body... including the boys arse. This was something else he definitely didn't need to see

"Hanji, leave his arse alone"

"But Levi, you should see this. His arse is oozing this fluid, almost like a woman would when she's aroused. I'm beginning to think due to his wolf DNA, Eren's gone into a rut..."

"You said he was human"

"That's because other than the scent glands, I didn't find anything out of the normal and you know I haven't had a chance to do a thorough internal examination"

"How do we treat this?"

"If he is in a rut, it means his body is calling out for a suitable mate. I'm not saying we have to find another wolf for him to do the do with, but I would recommend quarantining him until his symptoms fade. The thing with wolves is that they mate for life, a they are highly protective of their mate and offspring. No doubt if we were to give Eren someone to mate with, he'd imprint on them, and see them as his mate, which could be highly problematic during the future. I know we've had no success with sedating werewolves, but given Eren was born human, we should be able to keep him unconscious for the time being"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Levi nodded

"We'll also need a secondary set of chains for in here. He'll be easily able to slip the ones made of his human form"

"Levi. You can't just chain him up"

"How is it any different from pumping him full of drugs? We know nothing about him"

"And we knew nothing about you either when you first showed up"

Levi shot a glare at Hanji, she way out of line. He was at least more human than Eren...

"I was useful from day one, Eren on the other hand has been nothing but trouble"

Throwing herself over Eren, Hanji rubbed her face against Eren's coat as her hand moved to pat Eren's head, cooing over the teen as she did

"Eren probably didn't even know what was happening. He did say he felt sick, didn't you Eren"

"Enough. Hanji, Eren will be chained and you will monitor all changes in him. Levi, Hanji won't be drugging Eren so you'll be expected to keep watch over the pair of them"

"Alright. Levi, can you tell Moblit what's happening, he'll organise everything we need"

"Hanji. You're not staying in there without supervision. Levi, I'll leave you to deal with Hanji"

Great. No one was able to deal with Hanji. The woman was a force to be reckoned with at the best of times.

[vermiculated]

terrible tuesday: Louisa likes ugly shoes

a nice thing, before the screaming intensity of next week’s inevitable fix-it. 

when Louisa is twenty, she takes a break. This is how she thinks about it:

A Break.

She cannot promise herself that she will be fine. She will be fine. She has not thought that, she has never thought that. That is not a promise she can even make, not even to herself. Sometimes out loud, when her mother is around, she says so. There are more important things in the galaxy that her own happiness: Louisa knows where she fits in the galactic ranking order, and she adjusts her expectations accordingly. It's summer on Corellia, and the sun is invisible in the high troposphere haze.

It is restful. Han's doing something, and Louisa has taken the opportunity to explore the coast. She only has to be back in the evening. Her dress is drying in the shower. Louisa had brought the basics of what she's wearing these days: a shift dress that reaches her knees and honey-colored boots that roll up to her thighs. She likes how she looks. When they'd arrived, Han had promised that he'd take her shopping for some things that were better for the weather. Louisa squints at the strap of her sandal.

It looks okay. The rock outcrop where she's standing glistens from where the water washed over it. They're supposed to see Han's friends tonight. It's not going to be any more horrible than anything else. They'll probably be boring. Yesterday, her grandparents just told her about how they think she needs a hobby or a job. It's pathetic, how devoted they are to that. Like repairing busted kettles is going to make her happy. Everyone except her parents thinks that Louisa needs just one thing to be happy: a big thing, sure, like a career or a spouse or a brain that isn't shimmering with toxic gas, but they all imagine it to be so easy. Like she might have missed an obvious obstacle and if they tell her about it, it'll be gone. She'd drunk whiskey out of a tea mug and slumped lower on the settee over the course of the evening.

Everyone tells her that she's amounting to nothing. Louisa doesn't have to listen. Her parents know what she can do. Her mother walked to her to the Falcon. It hadn't been embarrassing. Louisa knows about embarrassing.

Louisa crouches down to look at a crab. It's tiny, the size of her thumbnail, and making sturdy progress across the wet sand. She straightens up and keeps walking. She doesn't care about that, either. What does it matter when everyone's seen her at her lowest -- and then they still want more of her? They're contemptible, and she doesn't like listening to them. She'd thought the worst thing that could ever happen to her was losing Nikolaj, but the pain of that is like ripping off a bandage compared to how she feels now. Her existence just goes on and on. Louisa didn't mean to see him. Louisa didn't mean to survive him. The fact that anyone wants to spend time with her only proves that everything's rotten. Nik would have said that it was 'corrupt,' and Louisa hates thinking about that. He had been so good, he had been so good to her, why did he have to throw their friendship away on something stupid?

They should have fucked. He talked like that sometimes, like he was back in his weird childhood cult where they prayed. That was so weird, the way he talked about it: all those years had really meant something, even if he didn't believe them anymore. Nik was still working with the same stuff, it was just that this time, he didn't believe it. "Corrupt." When she says it out loud, the word doesn't mean anything. The sounds are empty, and she feels foolish. Standing here, by the shore, the sun warm at her shoulders. The new things aren't so bad: Han didn't say anything about them this morning, and she is more comfortable in her new sandals than her boots. Earlier, she'd gone down to the water and let the waves engulf her.

Not all the way. The beach is cleaned up from when Han was a kid here and there was all kinds of industrial debris everywhere, tar and cored cells floating in the gyre, but she's not going to swallow the water. It isn't clean like Coruscanti water, she could tell anyone that: yesterday, all anyone could talk about was drip agriculture, like it was a new technique that they all had to be really interested in, instead of standard practice. Louisa could tell that it was getting to Han too, but he has to tough it out while she's here. If she stays, he has to stay.

The sand had been abrasive, and stuck under her new swimming suit. Louisa can still feel the grit inside. What she had liked most was how surprising it was: she'd knelt in the sand and the waves had lapped at her knees. They'd moved unpredictably. The feeling had been almost startling. She'd enjoyed it. Maybe the break is a good idea. If she doesn't feel anything bad for a while, maybe she can get into enjoying good things. Like: the beach. Like: a holiday. Like: making changes in her life.

Louisa had imagined it: the sand curling around a seedling like it curls around her feet. Coruscant wouldn't have sand, it barely has dirt. Maybe she should visit the local airponic garden when she's home again. Look at lettuce and radishes. Sand hollowed out with a place for the seed, and the greenery flourishing up. It's almost pretty. Her swimming suit is drying as she walks.

The tip of her braids drip down her chest. They're holding together pretty well. Louisa did the double braids because her grandparents have a picture of her mother and Han, which she had looked at last night, and her mother has such lovely long hair. She looks even prettier than Louisa remembers her looking. Radiant. The buckle on her sandals glints in the sunlight. They're nice sandals: woven with thick straps across the top, and stitched firmly to heavy soles at the bottom. The buckle opens on the outside, and the heaviness of it around her ankle is calming as she walks. The sameness, Louisa likes that, each step is the same as the last one.

The sky brightens. Louisa shades her eyes and looks out at the water.

[erraticfairy]

7 Triggers that Get Teens Reaching for Their Phone When They Shouldn’t

Parents everywhere are complaining that kids are using their phones way too much. They are glued to their screens at dinnertime, staying up when they should be asleep and are opting for virtual interaction over real-life conversations. It’s a growing problem, and even 50% of teens themselves think they’re addicted to their smartphones.

Such a high level of usage makes it easy for teens to develop an addiction to their phones and many parents and teens are oblivious to the dangers this presents. For starters, dangerous levels of phone use could lead to internet addiction. This could in turn spiral to serious issues such as insomnia or relationship problems with friends and family. Heavy phone use has also been linked to depression and anxiety thanks to the social isolation it fosters.

What Triggers Your Teen?

In order to break the hold that phones have over your teen, you first need to know what drives them to use them so much in the first place. In other words, what are their triggers?

Your teen might use their phone to cope with any of the following:

Boredom – Before smartphones came on the scene, teens used to hang out with their friends whenever they’d get bored. Nowadays, they spend hours locked up in their rooms, chatting with their friends on the phone or mindlessly surfing the internet. Phones, with their endless stream of news, entertainment, and connectivity, are the perfect panacea to boredom.

Anxiety – Anxiety is a common reaction to stressful situations. Whenever teens get anxious, e.g., when seated in a waiting room or when faced with a socially awkward situation, they whip out their phones to distract themselves from feelings of discomfort.

Rejection – Rejection stings, and it takes a lot of maturity to accept it gracefully. Most teens haven’t developed the resilience or self-confidence required to handle rejection be it from friends, a crush or a school team. As a result, they look for any means available to divert their attention from their hurt feelings. More often than not, their phones provide the necessary distraction.

Addiction – At other times, teens simply reach for their phones because they’re addicted. Compulsive cell phone use is similar to other types of addictions in that it stimulates the brain’s pleasure centers to release dopamine, which in turn makes you crave more. The phone itself can provide access to the real addiction, which could be porn, gambling, gaming or an internet addiction.

Stress – Teens these days are under intense pressure as they try to juggle schoolwork, friendships, budding relationships, changing bodies and an uncertain future. They may turn to their phones to get a temporary reprieve from these stressors.

Poor communication skills – Teens who have problems expressing themselves might opt to conduct their interactions virtually to avoid any awkwardness or embarrassment.

Schoolwork – If teens find schoolwork hard, uninspiring or boring, they might procrastinate by reaching for the phone. Sometimes what starts out as innocent research ends up with hours spent surfing the internet, liking photos and watching videos.

Helping Your Teen Learn to Cope in a Healthier Way

We parents don’t have to just resign ourselves to the fact that our teens overuse their phones. Instead, there are proactive things parents can do to help their teens learn to cope with the above triggers and assist teens in becoming more well-rounded people.

Model appropriate phone use. Our actions have a huge impact on our teens, so modeling restraint where phone use is concerned might inspire your kids to follow suit. Start by switching off your phone when spending time with your family and encourage them to do the same.

Turn off those notifications. Sometimes something as simple as adjusting app notification settings can pay off. If the phone isn’t constantly buzzing or dinging, then your teen won’t be tempted to reach for it as much.

Set routine and structure. Kids always benefit from structure and routine at home. To curb your teen’s dependence on their phone, cut off phone use at certain times, e.g. at the dinner table, when doing homework or before bedtime. Outlining the consequences of not adhering to these rules and following through when they’re broken will reinforce the message.

Offer healthier substitutes. Encouraging your teen son or daughter to take up extracurricular activities they’re interested in can help break their phone addiction. Taking part in these activities also teaches them to be immersed in the moment, and they’ll also learn how to make friends, socialize and interact with people in the real world.

Talk and spend time with your teen. Your teen might be going through a rough patch, forcing them to turn to their phones in a bid to escape reality. You can help them by providing a safe space for them to talk, vent and figure out their feelings.

If you feel that your teen’s phone use is getting out of hand, it’s advisable to seek professional help. Therapy can assist in uncovering the underlying cause of your teen’s excessive phone use and can give them the requisite coping skill to help them deal with their triggers in a healthy way.

Resources:

Common Sense Media. (2016). Dealing With Devices: The Parent-Teen Dynamic. Retrieved from http://bit.ly/1NjeRSf

Ungar, M. PhD. (2018). Teens and Dangerous Levels of Cell Phone Use. Retrieved fromhttp://bit.ly/2BifSaHlog/nurturing-resilience/201801/teens-and-dangerous-levels-cell-phone-use

Teen Internet Addiction Infographic. Liahona Treatment Center. Retrieved from http://bit.ly/2TARZSS

from World of Psychology http://bit.ly/2Bigo8D via theshiningmind.com

[psychotherapyconsultants]

7 Triggers that Get Teens Reaching for Their Phone When They Shouldn’t

Parents everywhere are complaining that kids are using their phones way too much. They are glued to their screens at dinnertime, staying up when they should be asleep and are opting for virtual interaction over real-life conversations. It’s a growing problem, and even 50% of teens themselves think they’re addicted to their smartphones.

Such a high level of usage makes it easy for teens to develop an addiction to their phones and many parents and teens are oblivious to the dangers this presents. For starters, dangerous levels of phone use could lead to internet addiction. This could in turn spiral to serious issues such as insomnia or relationship problems with friends and family. Heavy phone use has also been linked to depression and anxiety thanks to the social isolation it fosters.

What Triggers Your Teen?

In order to break the hold that phones have over your teen, you first need to know what drives them to use them so much in the first place. In other words, what are their triggers?

Your teen might use their phone to cope with any of the following:

Boredom – Before smartphones came on the scene, teens used to hang out with their friends whenever they’d get bored. Nowadays, they spend hours locked up in their rooms, chatting with their friends on the phone or mindlessly surfing the internet. Phones, with their endless stream of news, entertainment, and connectivity, are the perfect panacea to boredom.

Anxiety – Anxiety is a common reaction to stressful situations. Whenever teens get anxious, e.g., when seated in a waiting room or when faced with a socially awkward situation, they whip out their phones to distract themselves from feelings of discomfort.

Rejection – Rejection stings, and it takes a lot of maturity to accept it gracefully. Most teens haven’t developed the resilience or self-confidence required to handle rejection be it from friends, a crush or a school team. As a result, they look for any means available to divert their attention from their hurt feelings. More often than not, their phones provide the necessary distraction.

Addiction – At other times, teens simply reach for their phones because they’re addicted. Compulsive cell phone use is similar to other types of addictions in that it stimulates the brain’s pleasure centers to release dopamine, which in turn makes you crave more. The phone itself can provide access to the real addiction, which could be porn, gambling, gaming or an internet addiction.

Stress – Teens these days are under intense pressure as they try to juggle schoolwork, friendships, budding relationships, changing bodies and an uncertain future. They may turn to their phones to get a temporary reprieve from these stressors.

Poor communication skills – Teens who have problems expressing themselves might opt to conduct their interactions virtually to avoid any awkwardness or embarrassment.

Schoolwork – If teens find schoolwork hard, uninspiring or boring, they might procrastinate by reaching for the phone. Sometimes what starts out as innocent research ends up with hours spent surfing the internet, liking photos and watching videos.

Helping Your Teen Learn to Cope in a Healthier Way

We parents don’t have to just resign ourselves to the fact that our teens overuse their phones. Instead, there are proactive things parents can do to help their teens learn to cope with the above triggers and assist teens in becoming more well-rounded people.

Model appropriate phone use. Our actions have a huge impact on our teens, so modeling restraint where phone use is concerned might inspire your kids to follow suit. Start by switching off your phone when spending time with your family and encourage them to do the same.

Turn off those notifications. Sometimes something as simple as adjusting app notification settings can pay off. If the phone isn’t constantly buzzing or dinging, then your teen won’t be tempted to reach for it as much.

Set routine and structure. Kids always benefit from structure and routine at home. To curb your teen’s dependence on their phone, cut off phone use at certain times, e.g. at the dinner table, when doing homework or before bedtime. Outlining the consequences of not adhering to these rules and following through when they’re broken will reinforce the message.

Offer healthier substitutes. Encouraging your teen son or daughter to take up extracurricular activities they’re interested in can help break their phone addiction. Taking part in these activities also teaches them to be immersed in the moment, and they’ll also learn how to make friends, socialize and interact with people in the real world.

Talk and spend time with your teen. Your teen might be going through a rough patch, forcing them to turn to their phones in a bid to escape reality. You can help them by providing a safe space for them to talk, vent and figure out their feelings.

If you feel that your teen’s phone use is getting out of hand, it’s advisable to seek professional help. Therapy can assist in uncovering the underlying cause of your teen’s excessive phone use and can give them the requisite coping skill to help them deal with their triggers in a healthy way.

Resources:

Common Sense Media. (2016). Dealing With Devices: The Parent-Teen Dynamic. Retrieved from https://www.commonsensemedia.org/technology-addiction-concern-controversy-and-finding-balance-infographic

Ungar, M. PhD. (2018). Teens and Dangerous Levels of Cell Phone Use. Retrieved fromhttps://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/nurturing-resilience/201801/teens-and-dangerous-levels-cell-phone-use

Teen Internet Addiction Infographic. Liahona Treatment Center. Retrieved from https://www.liahonaacademy.com/teen-internet-addiction-infographic-info.html

from World of Psychology https://psychcentral.com/blog/7-triggers-that-get-teens-reaching-for-their-phone-when-they-shouldnt/

[achaionrp-blog]

Presenting FINLEY PAGE! Returning to Achaion for his SECOND SEASON, he holds the mantle of IOLAUS, THE ASSISTANT. Some of the fans say he looks a lot like TOM HOLLAND. Welcome to Achaion: The Best of our Heroes. Let’s take a closer look at this hero’s performance.

Tactics: he relies primarily on his brain, on a photographic memory, a determined attention to detail, and a vast database of complex knowledge that most people have discarded as insignificant (the most powerful pressure points, the weakest bones, the most vulnerable organs; plants with healing remedies, ways to build first aid from nothing but the environment around him, how to navigate with only the stars as a guide). his upbringing in a military family gifted him with (reluctant) experience with basic hand-to-hand combat and boxing, alongside a familiarity with handling and identifying various firearms.

Harmatia: smaller in stature than his competitors and more lean than toned, he knows he is no formidable opponent when it comes to physical competition. he is fast (it runs in the family) and agile, and strict household rules shaped him into the fit, healthy young man he is today. but he is no adonis, and certainly no heracles and, despite his elementary training, once he’s locked in close combat with an opponent, the odds shift frighteningly out of his favor. and though, in many ways, his genius is an advantage, it becomes a disadvantage when he begins to overthink, questioning his instincts and hesitating when he should be acting. his reluctance to be on the show translates into his being easily intimidated by his more comfortable, more glamorous peers, leading him to second guess his choices (and his chances) even more.

He is a boy. He is a genius. Some time along the way of time’s impossible trail, someone glued those words together. They were slapped onto his forehead the first time he slipped colored blocks into the right spot, stayed there loud and invisible every time he finished another book or inadvertently outsmarted another teacher.

“He’s learning at a rate that I can’t teach. He’s truly gifted.”

There was no skipping grades in his world, in his parents’ world, a world of uniform and structure, of high security bases and reveille at the crack of dawn. He knew very little freedom outside of his books, the rigidity of their hard-backed covers nothing in comparison to strict schedules, before school, after school, in the morning, at night. His hair stayed short and his manners stayed good, his clothes stayed wrinkle-free, like his parents’ uniforms, his strange, whimsical fascination with nature and time and space kept to himself. He craved the swirling unpredictable loops of the unknown, the ones in the sky above, the ones deep beneath the sea, the ones hanging in the unseen balance between it all, all which had no place in his world of cement and fences and perfectly straight lines.

“I’d recommend homeschooling, a private tutor maybe, someone who can keep up with him.” “We move around too much it’d be…it’d be impossible.” “They have programs online now, for kids like him.” “We shouldn’t take him out of school. It’s the only interaction he gets with kids his age. They need each other.” He looked up hopefully from where he sat solving a six by six Rubix cube for the third time since they’d arrived. “I could do both,” sheepishness crawled into his expression, pink and light as he averted his eyes to a spot just in front of where his feet swung from his chair. He could feel both pairs of eyes on him, his mother surprised, his teacher impressed. He’d interrupted. He knew better than to interrupt, “I mean, if that’s okay…”

Ironically, all the rigidity and structure in the world meant relocating at the drop of the dime, with no room for protest. Moving was always an order, and orders were never disobeyed. He’d been smarter than his parents since he was ten so he was smart enough to know he could never tell them no. He wanted more than plain t-shirts and boxed rations and free movies on the base. But his sister never seemed to mind, except when one guardian was deployed without warning for long, indefinite stretches of time. She made friends everywhere she went, real friends, good friends, where his friendships rarely every scratched the surface; it was hard to keep conversation with peers when his own matching unidentifiable accent cupped words that sounded stilted and cumbersome next to theirs.

“It’s freezing out there. Swear I get pneumonia before Christmas.” “Actually the cold causing illness is a common misconception. The cold virus, ironically enough, thrives in warm environments, about 91 degrees, whereas cells that fight infection actually increase when you go out into the cold. It’s your body’s natural way of fighting the stress of freezing temperatures.” The silence among the group before the subject changed was suffocating. He made a point of staying quiet the rest of lunch.

Where they saw a safe haven, a home, he saw a prison. But he did his best, for his family, keeping his intelligence under wraps to avoid embarrassing his sister or making his parents look bad to their uniformed peers. He listened to his own peers, smiled and nodded, laughed along with banal humor, hid his fascination with the most minute of life’s miracles, got lost in knowledge while the rest of the base (in yet another new country) slept.

It wasn’t all bad, not when his family was truly loving. They were strict, but never unkind. The outbursts from his father were quelled by calm words from his mother (sometimes, when they were both in uniform, he’d squint hard until he could no longer tell them apart). As he grew older and more vocal about how little he wished to follow in his parents’ footsteps, about how much he disapproved of all of it, tension between he and his father solidified. He would never be the model son the man had hoped for, there were no badges or athletic scholarships in his future, only vast streams of knowledge and a strong urge to change the world, and even as he approached his second decade of life did he feel guilty for it.

“What’s this?” He plucked the thick stack of paper with his name on it from the coffee table, wary of the suited group of strangers filing past him out the front door, smiling at him through closed lips like trained robots. His father stood nearby, in his cleanest work clothes, intimidating as ever. “A contract.” “A contract…” he repeated, his backpack sliding off his shoulder (but not to the floor; the living room floor was no place for backpacks…or clothes or shoes or mud or hair or anything really) as he lifted the first page. He handled it with the same care he might if he were diffusing a bomb, ACHAION: THE BEST OF OUR HEROES, sprawled across the top of every page in huge black lettering. His reading comprehension carried him through the first three pages of complex legal jargon as if it were a nursery rhyme, albeit far more frightening. “Dad, this is for a reality show. And why…why is my name on it?” “We can’t afford your tuition on our own. Even with the scholarship. It’s a good school and I’m proud of you, but it isn’t cheap. It’d be cheaper if you-” “I’m not doing ROTC, dad.” “Don’t interrupt.” “I don’t even know if MIT has an ROTC p-” “They do, and a great one at that. But I know you won’t do it, and I won’t force you to.” The pause hung between them like a spiderweb, frail and impossibly strong all at once. The implication sunk into the space between them like unsuspecting prey, trapped and panicky. “Dad- You can’t be serious- People die on that show.” “I thought you were too smart for urban legends.” “Dad-” “They approached us, they made a good case. You’ll learn some discipline, pick up some social skills, get into better shape, maybe even win, and actually work for something in this household for once. Real work, not just reading your way through life.” “That’s-that’s ridiculous, that’s so fucking ridiculous-” “Language!” “Just because I don’t want to end up a brainwashed, gun-toting meathead like y-” The sound of his father’s strong hand striking his cheek echoed off the walls of the otherwise empty room. Pain bloomed under his skin, prickly and hot, stinging his pride just as badly as his face. His eyes stayed glued to the floor, his face tilted to where it’d been pushed by the impact, his backpack still hanging heavy from the crook of his elbow. The silence between them that had been momentarily shattered began to assimilate into the space all around them, weighted and unbreathable. “You’ll do the show. End of discussion.” His eyes were bright, watery with the shock of the slap, but he did not move, did not blink, did not dare to breathe deep enough to make the rise and fall of his chest visible under his shirt. “Yes, sir.”

His eyes only moved to catch movement across the room, his sister, staring and still, no doubt drawn from her room by the noise. She made none.

He knew better than to say no to his father.