#in the open in the second half before the re entered the stadium where there was less wind

[eirianerisdar]

As awful as the TV direction for the Mexican GP drivers’ parade was, it was funny to see that while most drivers were shivering in the wind only two driver pairs sat closer to their teammates for warmth - Charlos and Landoscar.

[jmdbjk]

They take up a lot of space in my head sometimes...

I didn't want to dwell on this in the documentary posts but I know you guys will indulge me as I ramble a little bit.

I want to elaborate on some thoughts I had while watching the second half of Episode 7 when Jungkook went over to Jimin's.

I watched it several times. I made sure to watch it once with a very critical and skeptical eye to keep myself from straying too far...nothing serious but possibly delulu...

This part of the documentary inside Jimin's apartment was filmed on March 13, 2022 following the last PTD Seoul concert.

This was BEFORE PTD Las Vegas where Jimin has told us he talked to the members about his troubles and that's when he embarked on writing the songs that would end up on his album FACE which was released A YEAR after this interview.

It seems Jimin answers his phone in the car after the concert. Tells whoever to get ready and come over and asks what kind of chicken to order. The documentary camera person is already in the car with Jimin... who is he speaking to on the phone? When we eventually see Jungkook coming over later on in this episode, it's natural to assume he was speaking to Jungkook on the phone, who was probably in another car on his way home to his own apartment after the concert, or perhaps already home since his apartment is much closer to Jamsil Olympic Stadium where PTD Seoul was held.

Inside Jimin's residence, he talks about what he does there, basically not a whole lot: eats, sleeps, drinks, has friends over, plays on the computer, and from what we've seen since, he's not much of a decorator.

He wonders if he's revealed too much. I think this was a legitimate question for him, since idols typically do not divulge this sort of thing to the fans. It's plausible to me that Jimin has to unlearn all these preconceived ideas he's had about being an idol in order to forge ahead.

Delivery fried chicken arrives and he runs to get it and runs back to the dining table. Literally runs. The door chimes as it closes. I do love watching him eat. He surely loves his food. A man after my heart.

He talks about how it naturally came about that they needed to have their own spaces. They were maturing young men, they needed their own places even though they'd lived together for so many years. He said their place in Gangnam was so small they put up temporary walls. I believe he was speaking about the house that is now a cafe, Hyuga? He says it was scary living on his own, it was so quiet.

When Jungkook arrives, the door chime sound we hear was different from what it sounded like when Jimin went to the door to get the delivery chicken.

From this footage, we can't know if Jungkook punched in the code and let himself in. Maybe he did, but this footage does not show that. Unless someone is familiar with how that particular door chime sounds when it is unlocked, when it is locked, when it opens and when it closes, we can't know what that chime meant.

We see Jungkook after he's already inside the apartment. He was followed by a camera person. I am certain the camera-person does not have Jimin's apartment's door code. Make of that what you will...perhaps Jungkook came alone and they re-enacted him entering once he got there because it'd be weird if he was just there all of a sudden... we can't know.

Incidentally (fun fact) this is the same jacket Jungkook wore in the video of receiving the President's Award during his university graduation earlier that month (Mar. 2, 2022)... yes, Jeon Jungkook is a university graduate too. He wore a jacket with "QUIT YOUR JOB" across the back of it, to accept a graduation award.... 💀

Anyway back to my delulu...

Jimin and Jungkook are chatting at the table while eating and drinking and get on the topic of their sleeping habits when Jungkook says normally he would take a bath, drink a couple beers and go to sleep and even adds now he goes to sleep earlier. Such a grown up.

Jimin says he falls asleep at 1 a.m. so he must be getting old but it doesn't matter if he falls asleep at 1 a.m. or 6-7 a.m., he sleeps until 4 o'clock in the afternoon.

Jungkook says he decided not to live like that anymore... this the man who in early 2023 was staying up all night to do live broadcasts with us from his living room and waking up his neighbors belting out Unholy, etc... such a grown up.

And then Jungkook says 'oops, I sounded like Yoongi just then, never mind, live how what you want' and whoever that is off-camera wheezing... HAHAHAHAHAHA. Anyway. That whole exchange was... what is it with them? They ride the edge of smart-assy sarcasm and inside jokery with each other constantly. And this time at the expense of Yoongi! HAHAHAHA.

Jimin and Tae sometimes act similarly with each other but it is more role play and nothing like the long-running inside joke Jimin and Jungkook do all the time.

The vibe between them was identical to the one when they were sitting at the dining table that first night of In The Soop 2.

As episode 7 goes on, they show Jimin and Jungkook again, Jungkook is chopping mushrooms and Jimin says "You are doing so well on your own" and "Be careful" and the translation says Jungkook said "okay" but it sounds more to me like a "ayyy stop nagging" sound he made.

Jimin runs behind Jungkook again. Why does Jimin run so much? He's like a nervous, excited little mouse.

They're terrible Youtubers:

The ship wars and solo wars and stupid-things-you-could-ask-during-a-live wars over whether or not Jimin ever ate Jungkook's ramen... FINALLY, after posting all those recipes last year and Jimin saying he wants Jungkook to cook that for him, we see JUNGKOOK HAS COOKED RAMEN FOR JIMIN! Cooked it for him way before any of these wars began too... what a waste of energy.

No, Jimin didn't go over to Jungkook's to eat it, Jungkook came to Jimin and cooked it for him.

Ok, but this is the part that made me need to pause and rewind and write this long-ass post:

Jimin tells us that a friend of his helped him realize he needed to explore the possibility he was depressed.

He recounts the story as they were at Jimin's apartment drinking and they had a small argument. The next morning Jimin wakes up, has totally forgotten the argument and goes over to the friend's to help begin moving. They apologized to each other and the friend came over again that night and the friend said "I think you are severely depressed. You act like you aren't, but you've been acting strange. If you're having a hard time, tell me." Jimin said he didn't think he was having a hard time and the friend told Jimin to take some time to think about it. Jimin says a lot changed after that.

This moment when Jimin is retelling this story, "yet you act like you aren't, but you've been acting strange. If you're having a hard time, tell me." Jimin reaches over and actually touches Jungkook. Look at the way they are looking at each other?

The way Jungkook sat there, looking straight at Jimin while Jimin recounted that conversation/day/moment, chewing on his bottom lip as is his habit, Jungkook nodding during certain points that Jimin was retelling... very very brief moments where body language reveals a lot.

Maybe the "friend" Jimin was supposed to help move, the one who told Jimin he seemed severely depressed... was Jungkook?

You can call me delulu if you want. I see what I see and I hear what I hear.

They have not shown this type of closeness amongst the other members in this entire documentary. And here is Jungkook sitting in Jimin's home, while Jimin tells us this very intimate detail about himself.

If Jungkook was the one... it's plausible, the one who came over to drink, just like they were doing this evening... the one who was moving and Jimin was going to help him. The one who he can look in the eyes and recount this story and his friend can look him straight back in the eye and nod in agreement.

Why retell this story with Jungkook sitting next to him? There were other moments when we know Jungkook is there, he could have been off camera while Jimin told the staff about this intimate moment with his friend. No. He said it while they sat next to each other looking at each other.

It's possible. If not, it seems possible that Jungkook has already heard this story.

Jimin shares more than we've ever heard from him: that he falls into a labyrinth the moment he starts to ponder about what happiness is. He says of course their work and many other things require attention to detail but it's ok if there is vagueness (or imperfection) too. If you get too caught up in the meaning of things (in the importance of things), you feel like you have to risk it all to accomplish them and its ok to let some of it go, enjoy the simplicity of things and not get emotional over everything ... this sounds like Jimin has matured and has tried to push away perfectionism.

He believes he is in a very healthy place mentally right now (at the time of that interview, March 13, 2022) but can't say the same about his body, but he wants to stay healthy as he grows older together with the fans. And Jungkook is still there, but off camera.

This interview was almost two years ago. And now their first solo career endeavors have been accomplished and these two are doing their military obligation together. They've come a long way. We will see them again next year. It won't be as long as it feels.

Anyway, going back to my delulu cave now. Carry on.

[alldayangst]

lovebug (Tom Holland)

GIF is from gaybuckybarnes here on Tumblr. You can access my masterlist here. This was written for @worldoftom’s lolbrosgetsicktoochallenge. The prompt I had was: ‘Tom self diagnoses himself as sick. He’s got all the symptoms. He’s speechless, over the edge and just breathless. He never thought he’d get hit by the ‘love-bug’ again’. Inspired by the song Lovebug by Jonas Brothers!

A/N: Y/N is an assistant director on Cherry in this fic. This has a lot of Cherry (the movie) references but most are explained if you haven’t seen the film. Such as, it was filmed in Cleveland and Morocco, directed by Joe and Anthony Russo. Some scenes in this fic borrow from the movie & I’ve linked clips from the film if you’d like to listen/watch along. WC: 4K.

“Yeah, Mum, I’ve just got like the sorest throat at the moment.” Nikki’s picture cuts in and out on a scrambled screen on the South side of London, her husband’s hand periodically reaching out for her, rubbing her shoulder, then leaving the frame almost as quickly as it came in. Even through the low quality, the pixels dashing about his screen, Tom can make out his mother’s brows knitting together and can’t remove the feeling of utter guilt when he sees her grow redder and redder out of anger, concern and confusion for her son. “But I’ve got Harry here with me.” Harry waves from behind his brother, his trusty mug swapped for a Phoenix Coffee Cup in his spare hand, just to get a taste of the States.

Tom reckons that's why he’s sick. He barely drinks coffee on the other side of the pond, and would bet good money that an at home PG Tips would beat America’s swankiest coffee joint any day. But now, he’s betrayed his usual routine and his body’s all out of whack and his throat is hoarse, he’s breathless even at times.

Harry shoots his mum a half smile to comfort her, but he doesn’t know what it's like to be a mother, and his and Tom’s mouth both form an ‘O’ when Nikki begins to type so hard her screen jolts and Tom swears she’s put a dent in it. “You know what? I’m going to give them a piece of my mind, Tom! They’re overworking you!” Nikki looks intensely to find her baby boy in drug-addled eyes and his jungle of curls on his newly shaven head. She guesses it becomes easier when Tom pushes his face halfway into the screen and pleads like the child he’ll always be to her, “Please, please Mum! I can’t have any days off. Under any circumstances, I need to finish this film!”

Tom turns to his younger brother for help. “Tell her, Harry!”

And as little brothers do best, Harry spills the beans as soon as Tom’s phone is in clutch. “Tom’s fallen in love with the first A.D., Y/N.”

Nikki immediately loses her frown, knowing how love can knock Tom off his feet and blow all the wind out of him. Tom’s father, Dom, re-enters the frame to match Nikki’s grin. He never misses an opportunity to tease. “Oo, caught a case of the love bug, have you?”

Harry has to whip the phone around to dodge Tom’s protesting arms reaching for it again. “Don’t listen to Harry. I’m not in love. I just like Y/N.”

“A lot.” Harry mutters. Tom’s family doesn’t budge any further, knowing how bad Tom was hurt after his last relationship. They weren't sure when the love bug would come back to bite him again. So after they all shared a knowing look, Harry handed Tom his phone back. “I’ll keep you updated. Bye, Mum.”

It all started five weeks ago. Tom, at 24, was beginning to feel like love was trudging up a high hill he couldn’t come down from, where every beat of heart was feeling like an ache on an open wound.  Tom had yet to meet a lover to prove distance makes the heart grow fonder, finding himself in six month long entanglements and illusions of love before things inevitably went sour.

He’d say, perhaps, you were the closest thing to the real deal. The problem was, he didn’t know if you liked him back.

“When life was beginning, I saw -”

“When life was-”

“When life was be-fuck!”

“When life was beginning, I saw you.”

Tom could make a picture book out of the day he first met you. He remembers how your hair looked that day, the speckles of genuinity in your eyes, how your ear-to-ear smile seemed to be a mirror because every time he saw you from then on, he brandished the same beam. He recalls how his eyes went low as he dropped his script to his lap and stared at your lips, so soft and kissable, as you repeated his words back to him: “When life was beginning, I saw you.” Then you chuckled softly as Tom waited patiently for his head and his heart to return to him.

“I’m sorry. I’m dyslexic. I have a bit of trouble reading.”

“It’s cool, I'm the first A.D. That’s what I’m here for.”

You rubbed your hands on the back of your trousers, your mic jostling in your back pocket as you attempted to rid yourself of your nervous, sweaty palms.

“I’m Y/N.” You reached out for a shake only for Tom to cough loudly into his own hand. 

“Fuck! I’m so sorry! That wasn’t me trying to get out of your handshake. I- I-.” Tom looked at his hand for it had failed him for the first time in his life. His hand that had helped him up during handstands, being his crutch through cartwheels and backflips, but had decidedly run out of luck to be on the receiving end of Tom’s monstrous cough impending a handshake with someone his eyes just couldn’t look away from.

You laugh again. Your laugh sounds like melody, Tom muses. Awestruck, he wishes he could play it again, repeat it like a radio hit and never wash himself of the feeling he got when he heard your laugh for the first time.

“It’s all good. I’ll see you around.” You disappear from his trailer, likely on a venture to your own, when Joe and Anthony block his view of you walking away.

Anthony and Joe take on the ghost of you in Tom’s room, “Tom! The man, the myth and the legend!” Joe comes behind him to rub his newly hairless head. “We’re so glad you agreed to do this movie!” 

“Bummed that you’re not coming to the Browns game tonight, though.” Anthony remarks, throwing a football at Joe who sets it in his lap.

“Harry and I, we’re British, mate. We play football with our feet.”

Joe doesn’t know it then, but his next words are the beginning of the end for Tom. He rubs on his football and looks Tom in his eye when he poses, “It’s a shame ‘cause the whole crew’s going. First day of filming celebrations.”

“The whole crew?”

Anthony mumbles an ‘mhm’ as he picks up a framed photo of Tom and RDJ sitting pretty on Tom’s dresser, posing like father and son.

Tom’s usually self assured when he’s on set, but he’s hesitant to say this next improvised line. His voice trails off as he speaks. “Including Y/N?”

“Y/N?” Joe queries, with a smile that’s half scary and half comforting, and the butterflies in Tom’s stomach are begging him not to fuck this up and suddenly every second a word is not spoken feels like hours have passed and he might have ruined things before they’ve even started, gosh he just met you and-

Tom tries to play it cool. “I don’t- they’re cool.” Tom coughs again. “I mean, I don’t really know them but Y/N seems cool I guess.”

Anthony and Joe smile at each other, scrambling to exit. “Whole crew’s going, baby!” Joe beams.

“Please don’t tell Y/N I asked!” Tom shouts before they’re out of earshot.

“Yeah, yeah. Anthony, go long!”

A few hours later, Tom was sitting next to an unamused Harry, you on his left, foam fingers pointing every which way. 

“Are you a big football fan?” Tom asked, imposter syndrome creeping up on him. He had the best seats in the house, but knew not a thing about this sport he’d come down to watch. Meanwhile, crew and crowd alike sat themselves around you guys, cheering leaving throats raw for days to come and a tussle for a foam finger between Joe and Anthony leading to hundreds of sugary popcorn shells scattered on the stadium floor.

“I mean, I wouldn’t ever turn down the option to look at Odell Beckham Jr. Are you?” you replied.

Tom looked over to his brother who sat with his chin in his hand, lips pulled into a thin straight line as his rusty curls were blown about from the wind of brown and orange flags flown from fans behind him. “We could learn to love it.” Tom flashed you a toothy grin, unsure of where to guide the conversation next. He knew for sure that he wanted to keep talking to you, but his ego began putting up a fight, eager to show himself off if you’d have him in any way. Tom sighed. “Truth is, we have no fucking clue what’s going on.” Tom could hear the commentary about a player reaching the end zone, but they were all just words that went into one ear then came straight out of the other.

You giggled. “I have no idea either. We could make up our own rules if you want.”

Tom likes the way you think. He also likes the way you speak. He loves the way you laugh.

“You have a beautiful laugh.” 

You covered your mouth. “Oh, fuck, I hate my laugh!”

“I’d make you laugh a thousand times if I could.”

You pointed to the jumbo screen as Mayfield made a touchdown, unable to stop laughing from sheer nerves as you felt Tom’s hot, burning haze on you. An advert for Cleveland’s Own Phoenix Coffee flashed on the screen as you spoke. “We’ll make our own rules. Every time we see the quarterback pick up the ball, we’ll cheer.”

By the end of the night, Tom is speechless, breathless and over the edge of his chair in faux excitement and anticipation of the quarterback receiving the ball once again. 

“Another coffee?” The service worker asked.

“Yes please!” You and Tom both say in unison, pumped as the quarterback began circling around to collect the ball in open arms.

The footage of the game is cut abruptly as the camera points to a confused, solo Harry; Anthony and Joe are seen at the edge of the frame whispering suggestively and pointing towards Tom, the camera eventually capturing the superstar who looks back up at his own reflection. Poorly green screened hearts flood the screen and the camera pans to include you in the frame too. Tom looks on in horror when he realises what’s going on and how it could be too late, and turns to you.

“I promise I didn’t know this was going on. We don’t have to.” Tom panics. 

You hear him loud and clear, that you don’t have to, but your heart and eleven thousand people are telling you to kiss him otherwise. “Oh well. We should just do it.” you murmur, the bright pink ‘KISSCAM’ logo flashing in and out.

It doesn’t take more than a moment for the gap between you and Tom to close, for your face to get lost behind his, his lips pressing against yours, eyes closed, trusting each other to share your air. This was probably the first thing that night worth cheering for, howls and whistles erupting around you. 

Tom doesn’t understand American football, but he thinks that the best seats in the house could be anywhere next to you.

Harry’s on the phone to his twin brother, Sam, when you and the rest of the crew make it back to the hotel later on. “-Yeah, and Tom spent half the night with the first A.D. cheering and screaming at fuck all.”

The Cleveland Browns lost that night, but Tom remains none the wiser. He stood in the doorway as Harry continued to relay his day to Sam. “Oh, and Tom, Mum said to give her a call, eavesdropper.” He flicks Tom’s reddening nose before closing the door.

A week and a half later, Tom reckons that's why he’s sick. He never has the time anymore to attend ‘real’ football games back home, and he actually understands the game back in Britain. But now, he’s cheered at almost every given opportunity to impress you stupidly, and his chest and voice is suffering as a consequence.

You and Tom walked onto set with your pinkies intertwined, growing closer and closer by the minute, but Tom doesn’t miss how Ciara’s boyfriend visits set every day for her, doesn’t miss how they rub their nose together in this lovey-dovey affection he wishes he could bestow upon you.

The scene wasn’t working.

The crew was beginning to grow restless and Tom silently became more frustrated as the minutes went by and he was unable to get his lines right. He remembers how a week ago, it felt so easy. You were there to correct him when he stumbled upon his lines and you picked him up so effortlessly, a twinkling smile on your face. But then? Then you were different. Your eyes were scrunched up behind the lens of the camera and you were mumbling something to Anthony about how the sun was due to go down in Ohio soon so you needed to hurry along.

“Alright.” you announced. “Take five!”

And Tom was thankful, Ciara perched upon a swing for the scene they were filming, Tom dwindling the rope of the swing under his finger as her boyfriend approached her once again. “Hey dude, are you okay?”

Ciara looked at Tom with the same concern, hands finding home in her boyfriend’s nest of hair. “Yeah, Tom, are you okay?”

Tom coughed into his hand. “Yeah, guys, I’m good.”

“I think you’re coming down with a nasty cough.” Ciara muttered.

“Yeah. It’s you guys. You’re too cute. You make me sick.” Tom laughed humourlessly for a short while, wanting to be that adorable with someone, maybe not anyone, maybe just with you someday. Then Tom shook his head, a bitter feeling in his throat as he yawned. “It’s the Browns game. I was yelling and screaming every time a quarterback got the ball. Of course I’m a little unwell. I’ll be good as new in a few days though.”

Ciara already knew Tom wasn’t playing a man with the healthiest of habits, but she worried that Tom was getting this bad this early. “Maybe you should talk to the first A.D. about reducing shoot days from five to three?”

Tom didn’t like the prospect of seeing you less. “Yeah.” Harry had a clapperboard between his hands, leading Tom’s eyebrows to furrow as his brother yelled something about it being take 13. “Maybe.” 

Harry resumed to a new position in your chair, with you taking Harry’s place right across from Tom, a coffee waiting for him when the scene was over like Harry always did. Ciara’s boyfriend left the frame to watch supportively on the sidelines.

“Lights. Camera. Action!” Anthony called. “Time is money, you guys! Let’s try to get this one right this time.” 

They’d been over this already twelve times today.

“Hey, I’m really happy you’re here.”

Ciara read her line back. “Why’s that?” 

Tom could hear whispers of the crew, the sound guy glaring at them in case they were picked up in the scene, and he knew it had something to do with the fact that he couldn’t for some reason get the next line out all day. And that reason, unbeknownst to everyone, was because Tom couldn’t say something he didn’t mean - feeling like his heart was locked in a cage for which only you had the key. He looked past his co-star, Ciara, and up at you; feeling so close but you were far away, leaving him all day without anything to say. And overcoming his speechlessness and breathlessness, even in just that moment, he ran his hand over the rope to say, “Cause I like you. A lot.”

Ciara and the rest of the crew broke into a wide smile once Tom finally spoke his next line, but the only person Tom was focused on was you, who wasn’t smiling, but mouthing his words back to him.

Ciara breathed, “Shut up.”

And Tom’s sure to look you in the eye when he says, “I really do.”

When the filming for the day is said and done, Tom makes a beeline for you across the greenery. You hand over his coffee to him, “It’s a little cold now, but a warm hand is holding it.”

Tom quirks an eyebrow. “Are you inviting me to hold your hand?”

“Don’t push your luck.”

“You swapped jobs with Harry, I saw.”

“Yeah, well. It’s good he gets to grips with the job now. You know, in case anything changes.” You pulled your phone out of your pocket. “I should probably give you my number. In case anything changes.”

“Oh no, yeah. Your number is?”

“216-XXX-XXX. Speaking of changes, I heard you’re trying to get your days reduced.”

“You were eavesdropping?” Tom looks at your face that bears no trace of guilt. “You’re just like me!” He pulls you close.

“Tom, if what happened today is because you’re working too much, I’m happy to reduce your time.”

“Nah, nah.” Tom sniffles, rubbing his nose on a jacket probably worth more than your life. “I’m just a bit sick, s’all. I’ll be fine.”

Two weeks pass and Tom’s no better. With the Cleveland game nearly a month ago, Tom has nothing to blame and as first A.D., you’re obligated to reduce his hours. Tom’s on the phone with his mother when you approach his trailer. 

“Don’t listen to Harry. I’m not in love. I just like Y/N.”

“A lot. I’ll keep you updated. Bye, Mum.” 

You’re so quick to skip happily back to your trailer that you miss Harry calling out to his brother, he’s his protector now that his mother was countries apart. “Tom?” Harry starts.

Tom mumbles an ‘mhm’, hoping Harry would make it quick as he sees you FaceTiming him. If only his mother could see him like this. He’d get to call her tomorrow and tell her he’d called you for the first time yesterday, he could hardly wait to utter, 'I've finally found the missing part of me’. Harry sighs as the FaceTime ringing is relentless. Tom’s eyebrows threaten to meet in the middle of his face as he clutches onto his phone.

“Tom.” Harry begins. “Y/N is giving up assistant director.”

Tom’s really not sure where Harry gets the source of his information from, but he’s sure this isn’t true. He thinks you’d tell him before his brother if you were leaving the film behind, leaving him behind.

The film is due to move filming to Morocco soon, and Tom’s well aware that not all film crew joins them when production moves abroad, but to Tom, you’re an extension of this movie universe. And Tom refuses to leave the memories of you in this filming cycle. “How’d you know?”

“I’m taking over.” Tom’s screen lights up with the glow of your call, and as bright as it is, as bright as you are, as bright as your smile surely is on the other end of the phone call, Tom’s in his deepest darkest feelings wondering how he fooled himself into thinking romance could go right for him this time. 

He’s going to Morocco. You’re not. You’re funny, smart, promising, beautiful. You’ll find someone good for you, a better pair by the time he’s back.

“That doesn’t mean it won’t work out, man.” Tom sulks in his bed, the light from your constant calls bleeding through his bed sheets. “I just wanted to warn you.” Tom nods, screaming into his pillow. Harry decides that’s his cue to leave, a glimmer of light from outside seeping through the crack of the door as Harry escorts himself. Tom musters all his might and courage to reluctantly answer your phone, the ear-to-ear grin he knows so well greeting him once again.

Suddenly, he forgot how to speak. Hopeless, breathless, couldn’t you see that?

“Tom?” You call out his name a few times before cutting straight to the point. “Do you like me?”

Tom shifts slightly but not enough to show that he’s alarmed. “Huh? Yeah, I like you.”

He sits up, but doesn’t reciprocate the outrageous smile you wear like a heart on your sleeve. Tom’s eyes are sunken, dark circles forming under his eyes where he and his disturbed character become one. You suddenly remember why you shouldn’t have run away so fast, perhaps Tom was overworking himself. He continues, “But I’m an emotionally unavailable hopeless romantic. So I wouldn’t waste your time on me.”

Tom can’t help the hurt in his heart when he sees your smile drop so suddenly, knowing it was earnest. “Tom, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying, life is unfair. And I’m gonna quit while I’m ahead. We wouldn’t work out. And I like our friendship now. We should stay that way.”

You’re not convincing when you nod rapidly, not letting Tom see your face as you play with your fingers to avoid his gaze. “Yeah, I agree.” You’re much less convincing when the last frame Tom caught of you was a shot of tears dripping down your face, as three rings followed you. Tom’s screen went black in your absence, and Tom falls asleep with eyes even redder from crying, and he wonders when he’s gonna shake this sickness.

It’d been a few days since Tom had got his shots to allow him to go to Morocco. He sat opposite the doctor on set, a coffee cup placed on the desk between him.

Tom reckons that's why he’s sick. Shots always have their side effects, and he’d taken multiple shots in one day. And now, he specifically asked for you to hold his hand during the process, Harry branded in a glinting jaw-drop, only for you to leave directly after. 

“I’m speechless, constantly feeling over the edge, breathless.” Tom explains his symptoms to the doctor. “At first I thought it was because of that stupid football game, then all the coffee I’m drinking, now I don’t know if it’s the shots. I feel like shit, doc.”

“I know exactly what you’re dealing with.”

“What?”

“Lovebug.”

Tom stares at the doctor in utter bewilderment. “You figured that out based on my symptoms?”

“I figured that out based on the puppy dog eyes you gave for your first A.D. when they left without a word.” The doctor begins to laugh softly, but Tom is unamused. How is he supposed to shake this illness after completely ruining your relationship? How is he supposed to mend your bond after talking so recklessly, so emotionally? “Tom, I’m not here to be a fairy godmother, I’m being strictly medical. At a certain point, what you feel in your mind affects your body. So I prescribe that you talk to Y/N and say everything you need to say.”

And while that seemed easy enough, Tom’s ego was at work again, and Tom was feeling far too bruised and wounded to speak to you first. Surely if you cared enough, if you liked him back, if you were willing to be distanced, you would reach out first.

It seems Tom’s pride had forgotten that you already did.

“I heard that this is the exact shit that happened in Cleveland, and he couldn’t get the line out.” Tom hears the whisperings from behind the camera, the amount of familiar faces in the crew dwindling after the change in location. He doesn’t respond. He waits for someone to take five. And when no one throws him a bone, he asks Harry to.

“Alright, everyone take five.”

“Someone get this kid a fucking coffee, he’s always on edge.” Joe instructs.

“And you think giving a kid in twenties coffee is taking him off edge?” Anthony chuckles.

Tom doesn’t care whether or not he gets the coffee, rocking side to side. He’s got all the motion for this role, but he feels nothing. All he felt was for you.

“Here.” Harry sets a Moroccan mint tea down next to Tom, hoping it would calm him down. When Tom takes a few sips, the look in his eyes is less pleading, and everyone’s ready to rumble, this being the last scene of the day.

Harry feeds Tom the line. “Baby, are you seeing bad things?” Tom is seeing bad things. A life without love, a life without you. Unable to contain it all, Tom turns his frustration into laughter. “Why are you calling me baby for, man?” Tom has this ear-to-ear grin but even he feels it's not as innocent, as genuine as yours. He never knew a smile so wide could be so full of pain.

“I have an idea.” Harry saunters off to collect his phone. “Don’t stop rolling the cameras.”

When Harry comes back, there’s sounds of shifting erupting from his phone. “Hi, Tom.” 

Tom didn’t know it would be so bittersweet to hear your voice again. He wasn’t sure if he should put walls up again or if twice was the charm. Even if you worked out in the short term, whose to say Tom wouldn’t get hurt again? And Tom wouldn’t want to hurt you.

“Are they taking good care of you out there? I don’t think I took good care of you.” Tom doesn’t say anything on the other side of the line, so you continue. “I’m not a good A.D. if you’re always sick and tired, and I didn’t want to see you any less, which was selfish of me, so I didn’t change your schedule.” You sigh as you admit why you left. “When you asked, though, I swear I was gonna do it, but then I heard you liked me, and I got carried away. I had to remove myself from the situation to do what’s best for you. Do you understand me? I did it for you.”

“I, uh, I got a diagnosis.” Tom stumbles.

“Oh my gosh, are you seriously sick?”

“I’m speechless. Over the edge, breathless.” Tom laughed dryly, finally feeling like he can choose an ending.

“What did they say it was?”

“Lovebug.” Harry smiles softly at his brother.

Your laugh is like nectar entering Tom’s ear.

“I might just love you way too much, Y/N.”

“Are you sure you’re doin’ okay?” Tom tries his best not to sound dejected that you didn’t say it back, knowing he’s already felt the brunt of this heartache already.

“I just miss you, that’s all.”

“I miss you too. I love you.” Joe stops recording, and Harry lowly whispers ‘take.fucking.five.’ as he and the crew creep away from Tom’s new found love scene. 

“Anthony, can I borrow your phone?” Harry begins to type Nikki’s number as soon as Anthony gives over the phone. “Mum, Tom just told the first A.D. he’s in love with them so guess who’s out of a job?”

Tom knows why he’s sick. He used to feel like love was trudging up a high hill he couldn’t come down from, where every beat of heart was feeling like an ache on an open wound. Tom had yet to meet a lover to prove distance makes the heart grow fonder, finding himself in six month long entanglements and illusions of love before things inevitably went sour. But now, Tom has found you.

[aion-rsa]

Money Heist: What to Know About the International TV Phenomenon

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If you haven’t tuned into Money Heist yet, you’ve been missing one of the hottest series on Netflix right now. It’s sexy, absurdist fun, an action soap opera like no other, so addictively bingeable that it has stolen the hearts of a worldwide audience. But it’s more than escapist fare. Money Heist has also become a rallying cry of resistance that is changing the world. 

It almost didn’t happen. Netflix picked up Money Heist entirely by chance. If they hadn’t, the original series might have easily vanished into obscurity for English-speaking audiences. Once Netflix got it, it blew up and became their most watched non-English series.

Money Heist was originally broadcast on Spain’s Antena 3 channel in 2017 under its native title La Casa de Papel (The House of Paper). The first season was 15 episodes, told in two parts. The initial part garnered a healthy 45 million viewers but viewership plummeted when the second part was broadcast. With only half the audience remaining and the story complete, the show seemed at its end. Netflix acquired the series as part of an international catalog of titles, re-edited it into 22 shorter episodes, re-released it internationally later that year. The streamer didn’t even bother to promote it when they added to their queue. Nevertheless, it found a huge audience outside of Spain and viewership skyrocketed.

Season 1 is about a meticulously planned heist of the Royal Mint of Spain. The Professor (Álvaro Morte) is a criminal mastermind who assembles a gang of thieves. Each thief adopts the name of a city to conceal their true identities from each other, akin to the robbers in Reservoir Dogs. The story is told from the perspective of Tokyo (Úrsula Corberó), a brazen spitfire femme fatale who steals every scene she’s in. The thieves capture the Mint, taking dozens of hostages. Their plan is to print millions in unmarked bills. Meanwhile, the Professor plays a cat-and-mouse game with Inspector Murillo (Itziar Ituño) who is hot on his trail. 

Don’t Fall in Love During a Heist

Through Tokyo’s narration and copious flashbacks to the planning of the crime, Money Heist tells a gripping story of the ultimate anti-heroes. As tensions mount, the gang is at one another’s throats while navigating the Professor’s deceptive instructions. The Mint is surrounded by cops and time is running out. Gratuitous shots of ticking clocks increase the pressure, the same device deployed by original Mission: Impossible TV series to heighten suspense. Stockholm syndrome takes hold as the hostages fall for their captors. In classic Money Heist style, the main hostage who joins the gang adopts the name “Stockholm (Esther Acebo)”. The Professor and the Inspector engage in a deliciously dysfunctional romance. It’s all exceedingly sexy with the beautiful actors often scantily clad, and has a subversively sharp sense of humor. 

Despite its ludicrousness, Money Heist is so addictive in many ways. First off, it masters the cliffhanger. The suspense is relentlessly palpable and no matter how ridiculous some of the deus ex machina resolutions are, they’re still great fun to watch. Just like Game of Thrones, this show is merciless. Beloved main characters die in shockingly poignant death scenes. This keeps the suspense very real. You never know if your favorite character is going to make it. Of the seven thieves that enter the Mint with Tokyo – Berlin (Pedro Alonso), Denver (Jaime Lorente), Helsinki (Darko Perić), Moscow (Paco Tous), Nairobi (Alba Flores), Oslo (Roberto Garcia Ruiz) and Rio (Miguel Herrán) – three don’t make it out. 

Secondly, it’s about those characters. The ensemble cast delivers great performances across the board. Every role is rich, complex, and well-developed. Everyone has his or her strengths, weaknesses, and back stories and their emotional journeys resonate deeply. No one is entirely innocent. You can’t help yourself from rooting for them, even the villains. 

And third, Money Heist has style. Its passionate soundtrack has captured the ears of the world. The use of color, particularly red against darkly composed frames, is exquisitely captivating. Money Heist is a thrilling roller coaster ride that just has to be experienced. 

Enjoy It Until the Party is Over

The global following shocked the cast and crew. After season 1 wrapped, the show seemed finished. As the cast watched their social media following grow exponentially (an experience catalogued in Netflix’s documentary, Money Heist: The Phenomenon), they knew something was up. By 2018, Money Heist garnered several nominations and wins across the European awards circuit and even won the coveted Best Drama Series at the 46th International Emmys.

Consequently, Netflix reassembled the cast and crew for a second season, this time with a much bigger budget. Even though season 1 was self-contained, the show’s creator Álex Pina dreamed up a second season, one that was on a much grander scale, thanks to Netflix’s backing.

The second heist is in four parts. That may sound confusing because the upcoming season 5 will be split into two parts as well. Season 5 is actually parts 3 and 4 of the second heist story arc. “Heist 2” is already 16 episodes deep and it’s only the halfway point. 

For the second heist, the gang must reassemble to rescue one of their own after Tokyo makes another grievous mistake. And that rescue hinges upon robbing the Bank of Spain. New gang members join the survivors of the first robbery, and another more ruthless adversary, the pregnant Inspector Sierra (Najwa Nimri). Sierra is a more ruthless opponent than Murillo was for the first heist. When it comes to the Professor’s psychological chess game, Sierra flips the chess board upside down. Season 3 (Part 1 of the Bank of Spain heist) debuted exclusively on Netflix in the summer of 2019. Season 4 (Part 2) was released almost a year later in April 2020, and it was seen by 65 million households. That’s a million more viewers than watched Tiger King when it ran around the same time. 

Realizing they had a bankable hit, Netflix released Money Heist: The Phenomenon. The documentary showcases the astonishment of the cast and crew as they navigate their new found popularity from a show they thought was done. A season 2 opening scene, filmed in front of the historic Santa Maria del Fiore Cathedral in Florence, Italy, was almost ruined when rabid fans rushed the crew. However, do not watch Money Heist: The Phenomenon before seeing the show because it drops some major spoilers. 

We Are Dali

To hide their identities, the gang wears masks based on the famous Spanish surrealist artist Salvador Dali, replete with a red hooded jumpsuit. They force their hostages to wear the same costume to confuse the police. This Dali mask has become a new symbol of international rebellion, supplanting the Guy Fawkes mask from V for Vendetta on a global scale. Beyond Comic-Con cosplaying, the Dali mask has been appearing on protestors and in effigies around the world. Footage from these real life demonstrations appear in the show. 

Money Heist has had a profound effect on international football (“soccer” for we Yanks). Massive displays of Dali mask banners appeared at Saudi Arabia soccer stadiums. At the Karaiskaki Stadium, Greek soccer fans unfurled a huge Dali banner too. After their team won, they rushed the field wearing Money Heist costumes. Brazilian soccer superstar Neymar de Silva even makes a cameo in season 3 as a monk who wryly comments about his disdain for soccer. Silva claims Money Heist is his favorite show.  

There were even real life copycat heists. France fell victim to a shop hold-up and a hotel robbery where the perpetrators wore Dali masks. A 2019 daylight heist of the Mexican Mint was thought to have been inspired by the show. Perhaps the best one was when Justin Bieber’s five-billion-view music video ‘Despacito’ was hacked on YouTube. The hackers replaced it with an image of Money Heist in full Dali regalia with guns pointing out, accompanied by a call to ‘Free Palestine.’ 

Consequently, there has been some backlash. Cyprus banned Dali costumes for Carnival. Turkish journalists and politicians have admonished the show, describing it as rebel propaganda. The Professor describes it best in season 3. “The mask has become a symbol throughout the world of resistance, of indignations, of skepticism. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that it has inspired many people.” 

Ironically, Money Heist pilfered Dali’s image. The Gala-Salvador Dalí Foundation never gave the show its blessing for the use of the artist’s likeness. There’s no doubt that Dali is spinning in his grave for not getting paid royalties, but he must appreciate the surrealism here. 

Bella Ciao!

Beyond the now iconic Dali mask, Money Heist also revived a rebel ballad, the Italian protest song Bella Ciao. Bella Ciao means ‘Goodbye Beautiful’ and it was the anthem of anti-fascists of the Italian Resistance during WWII. Originally about toiling in rice fields under an oppressive boss, the lyrics evolved to describe the Resistance’s commitment to the cause with their lives. When translated from Italian, the lyrics end with “This is the flower of the partisan who died for freedom.” 

The Professor’s grandfather fought in the Italian resistance so he sings it with Berlin, his older brother, and teaches it to the gang. The song is frequently reprised throughout the series, most tellingly during the season 1 part 1 finale end credits. A montage of black-and-white footage decrying the evils of money fades to red as Bella Ciao plays.

Since Money Heist, over a dozen new versions of Bella Ciao have climbed the charts across Europe, with the Professor’s rendition placing first in Austria, second in Germany, and in the top twenty in Belgium, France, and Switzerland. It’s been covered by several EDM DJs like Steve Aoki and Hardwell. Bella Ciao has become a common chant at soccer matches, and was heard at the 2019 World Cup. When Open Arms rescued a boatload of fleeing immigrants docked in Lampedusa, the refugees sang Bella Ciao to celebrate their newfound freedom. 

The Last Times are Beyond Comparison

What might the finale hold? When we last left the gang, they were reunited in the Bank of Spain and determined to win ‘the war’ in honor of their latest fallen comrade. But Inspector Sierra got the drop on the Professor. With a gun to his head, she declared “Checkmate, son of a bitch.” Anyone who knows the show understands that it is volatile and unpredictable so it’s anyone’s guess what happens next. 

It’s clear that this is the end. When production wrapped on May 14th, Netflix tweeted “Thank you to all the fans for being part of La Resistencia! We can’t wait to show you how this story ends.”  However, Netflix is never one to kill a goose that lays golden eggs. 

Money Heist creator Álex Pina already launched another Netflix series, Sky Rojo. Season 1 premiered back in March 2021 and season 2 is slated for July. It’s the story of three women on the run, somewhat reminiscent of Thelma and Louise, only the threesome are prostitutes. It’s stylish and sexy, and received some critical acclaim. But it has nowhere near the impact of Money Heist. 

A Korean adaptation of Money Heist is in the works with Kim Hong-sun directing. Cast as the Professor is Yoo Ji Tae, who is most remembered for his mastermind role in Oldboy, and also had a part in a Korean TV adaptation of The Good Wife. Playing Tokyo will be Jeon Jong Seo, aka Rachel Jun, a newcomer with two feature films under her belt. 

This summer, an immersive event “Money Heist: The Experience” is set to tour London, Miami, Mexico City, New York, and Paris. Each city will get a different version of the experience, adapted to the venue, and the venues won’t be announced until just prior to the events open. This is another collaboration between Netflix and Fever, who previously staged “Stranger Things: The Drive Into Experience” in Los Angeles. 

Most of the cast of Money Heist were too engaged with filming the final season under pandemic restrictions to take on any new projects. The notable exception of Úrsula Corberó. Corberó is cast as the Baroness in the upcoming G.I. Joe Origins film, Snake Eyes. 

Money Heist held the title of Netflix’s most watched non-English series until a French show, ironically also about a heist, stole the crown. Lupin robbed Money Heist of the title in January 2021 racking up 76 million views. Lupin Part 2 debuted on June 11. When Money Heist returns, will it steal back Netflix’s most watched non-English series crown? Hopefully so. For Nairobi!

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Money Heist, Parts 1-4, are available on Netflix now. Season 5 Volume 1 debuts on September 3, Volume 2 arrives on December 3, 2021. 

The post Money Heist: What to Know About the International TV Phenomenon appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3yesomz

[darkblueboxs]

If you're taking requests, maybe the foxes reacting to soft andreil? I love seeing their relationship through outside perspectives

Sorry for the delay! I ended up with two very different ideas for this and wrote both of them. I’ll be posting the other one in the next week or so! [EDIT: Here it is!]This was great fun to write. Thank you for the request.

In the Eye of the Beholder

Read here or on AO3

.

#1 Dan

Dan raps her knuckles against the door to the monster’s flat and waits. Nicky greets her with an impressive mop of bedhair and a baffled expression which smooths over only when Neil darts past, citing brunch with Dan as his excuse for being awake at such a thoroughly reasonable hour on a Sunday morning. He’s in high spirits, from what Dan can tell, rolling on the balls of his feet as they wait for the elevator to arrive. Dan is ready to put it down to excitement over their plans – she has a stack of potential recruits under her arm thicker than Les Misérables for them to discuss, hopefully with a stack of pancakes of equal height on the side. Then she spots the light bruise peeking over the hem of Neil’s collar, and draws a very different conclusion about the source of Neil’s good mood.

She smiles as they step into the elevator, but keeps the observation to herself. While some members of the team love to badger Neil for the slightest insight into his relationship, Dan is willing to push her curiosity aside for the sake of Neil’s privacy. He has plenty other teammates to pester him without her jumping on the bandwagon.

Just before the doors slide shut, an arm bursts through the gap, forcing them open. Andrew is as stoic and terrifying as ever (not that Dan would ever admit it) even while wearing Neil’s foxprint-patterned pyjama bottoms. The quickened rise and fall of his chest is the only hint that he ran to get here.

Neil raises an eyebrow at the sudden appearance of his underdressed partner.

Andrew lobs something at Neil which bounces off his chest and lands on the floor between his feet. Neil stoops to scoop it up, and Dan sees that it’s his wallet.

“Thanks.”

“Idiot,” Andrew huffs. He retracts his arm, and the doors slide shut on the sight of him stalking back to their dorm.

Neil taps the wallet against his hand a couple times before sliding it into the wallet.

“You’re both idiots if you think I’m letting you pay for brunch,” Dan says wryly.

Neil shakes his head. “I said I was going to pick up some stuff at the store afterwards. But thanks. Brunch is on me, though.”

“We’ll see,” Dan says, which means no. “Okay, I’ll admit it. That was sweet of him.”

The corner of Neil’s mouth twitches. “Nah. He’s just making sure I come back with the junk food I promised him.”

“Sure.” And, oh, Dan had been trying to be good, but she really can’t help herself any longer. “So, did you guys mean to give each other matching hickeys, or was that just a fun little accident?”

Neil slaps his hand to his neck and groans.

All in all, it’s a great morning.

 #2 Kevin

Aaron’s trial is coming up. Kevin wouldn’t care (well, he would, but for different reasons) except that it’s making the cousins snippy and fractious. More so than usual. Andrew isn’t sleeping properly, although he would deny that it had any relation to the trial. Unfortunately, his insomnia is contagious, which ends with Neil losing focus at their night practice, having spent the best part of a week running on fumes and gatorade.

Kevin has been patient – patient by his standards, anyway – but the third fumbled catch in a row snaps his temper like brittle bone.

“Get the fuck off my court, Josten.” Kevin says, smacking the base of his racquet against the floor.

“Fuck you,” Neil answers reflexively. He stops to push his lengthening bangs back from his face.

“I’m not joking. You’re in no state to play. Get the fuck out.” Kevin wishes Neil would take it as the blessing it is, a night to re-focus and re-calibrate, but instead he’s glaring Kevin down like he just asked him to eat sewage.

Neil turns away from him to send another ball barrelling towards the goal. It misses by an entire foot.

“Neil,” Kevin says sharply, readying for a fight that neither of them have the energy nor patience for.

Before he can begin, the doors to the court bang open. Andrew stands in the entrance, arms crossed. It’s the expression that ends an argument before it’s had time to start; Kevin knows it far, far too well.

Andrew leads Neil away to the showers while Kevin continues his drills.

When he’s finished washing up, he finds the pair in the team lounge, collapsed on the wider of the couches. Neil is asleep, slumped into Andrew’s side. Andrew looks up as Kevin enters, but he doesn’t move his hand from its resting place in Neil’s hair. Although Neil was the only one of the pair training that night, Andrew’s hair is plastered against his head as though he, too, is fresh out of the shower. Kevin tries not to consider the implications.

They wait in silence for a few minutes, watching as Neil sleeps, properly sleeps, for the first time in far too long. Neither are willing to disturb him, but the night is late and Kevin has a whole host of classes waiting for him in the morning.

“I’ll walk back,” says Kevin. Andrew meets his gaze for a long moment before nodding briefly. The bags under his eyes betray him.

Kevin darts back into the lockers to pick up Neil’s abandoned kit bag. When he passes them again, Andrew has slouched onto his side, having manoeuvred Neil in front of him so they can both lie comfortably. His arm is slung protectively around Neil’s waist like Andrew is prepared to beat off the world to keep him there.

Kevin knows they spend more nights in each other’s bunks than out of them in the dorm, but somehow they’re always up and away before anyone else is awake enough to give them any hassle over it. Kevin doesn’t care, but Nicky can be overbearing at the best of times, and Aaron is… well, Aaron. But here, in the privacy of an empty stadium, it looks like Neil has finally found enough security to drop off at last, and Andrew looks ready to follow. Kevin shuts the door behind him, not quite smiling, but close. It was strange to some, the idea of Neil and Andrew, but anyone who saw them curled up together would see it plain as day. They just fitted.

The next day, Neil is closer to being himself again, and no more is said on the matter.

 #4 Matt

Matt has to admit that press duty with Neil is never boring. The interviewers seem to share his opinion, visibly perking up when Neil follows Matt into the room. They lost to the Bearcats, but it was close enough that Matt doesn’t have to lie when he says that he’s proud of the team’s performance today.

“Some are saying that the failure of the defence line in later stages was due to Minyard’s performance in goal in the second half. How would you respond to that?

Matt doesn’t know why he bothers opening his mouth; the question may be directed to him, but he knows damn well that a boulder in the shape of Neil’s fury is already barrelling in this hapless reporter’s direction. “Well-”

“Last time I checked, this was a team sport,” Neil says loudly. “Was I hallucinating that, or has there been a few rule changes since yesterday?”

Matt isn’t sure whether to laugh or groan. Coach had told Matt to keep an eye on their resident fire-starter as though anyone was at all capable of controlling Neil when there was a mic in front of him. Matt feels sorry for the poor sucker that will one day be assigned to the role of Neil’s publicist, because he’s sure that Neil will drive them into an early grave alongside Matt’s.

“You have to admit that the number of goals that he let in-”

“I’m sure it had nothing to do with the fact that his entire defence line had already played two full quarters before he even stepped foot on court. People get tired the longer a game goes on, of course defence is going to suffer in the second half. But sure, keep pinning it on the goalie you clearly have it in for.”

Matt claps a hand on Neil’s back. “What he said,” he agrees, staring down the reporter.

They take no further questions.

Matt doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, but when he leaves the showers to see Andrew and Neil alone in the locker room he ducks back out of sight. He walks into at least one dramatic confrontation amongst his teammates per week, and sometimes the best way to deal with the daily bouts of fox drama is to hide and wait for the storm to pass.

“Point me to where I asked you to lead my own personal crusade.” Andrew’s flat tones echo off the tiled floor. Matt regrets leaving his Ipod in his bag. The conversation doesn’t seem too personal to overhear, but Andrew and Neil have never been the easiest reads.

“I’m tired of them talking shit about you just because they have a vendetta against anyone with your…” Neil trails off. Matt imagines him to be making several expressive hand gestures; it’s hard to condense all of Andrew’s history and circumstances into one word. “…everything,” Neil settles on.

“Your principles should not intersect with my business.”

“Even if it could affect your future career?” Neil’s words are met, unsurprisingly, with silence. “Besides, yours do.”

“Explain.”

“When I first came here, you told Nicky to back off. Not out of concern for me. Because of your principles.”

This time, the silence stretches so long that Matt doesn’t think Andrew is going to answer.

“Point,” Andrew concedes.

“Besides, is it so bad that I’m standing up for you?”

“Only when it’s making new enemies for you. How many does one man need?”

“I’ve got room for a few more,” Neil says. There’s a rustle of movement, and, oh, are they kissing? Matt strongly suspects that they are kissing. It’s more than his life is worth to look. He takes a few steps back, rattles his kit loudly and makes as much noise as possible before entering the locker room. The pair are a safe distance apart by the time he enters, and Matt gives them a probably-not-convincingly-casual nod before busying himself with his change of clothes.

The pair spend the journey home holed up together at the back of the bus, and if he suspects that they’re doing a little more than talking, Matt keeps it to himself.

They’ve earned a little privacy, after all.

 #5 Aaron

“Well, maybe if you stopped and took the time to, I don’t know, explain literally anything that you do, we wouldn’t be in this fucking mess.”

“Aaron,” says Bee, a gentle reprimand. He isn’t in the mood to hear it. His attention remains on his brother, who’s features remain the same stony, impassive blank that they have in almost every joint session to date. It’s an expression that makes Aaron want to tear his hair out, or kick his brother’s face in, or both.

“What would you like me to explain?” says Andrew, more of a challenge than an offer. Aaron snorts, because, where to fucking begin?

“How about we start with your little fuck-buddy, seeing as you’re so keen to start on mine.” Earlier that week, Andrew had returned early from a class to find Aaron and Katelyn together in their dorm room. The result, while not outright violent, had been deeply unpleasant for all involved. And of course, Andrew was being an ass about it.

“Aaron. We’ve talked about this. How can you expect Andrew to talk about Katelyn respectfully if you won’t offer the same respect to his own partner?”

Aaron scoffs. “It’s not the same.”

Andrew’s eyebrow… it doesn’t quirk, but it twitches. “Oh?”

Aaron gestures vaguely. “You know what I mean.”

“I can assure you that I don’t.”

“Me and Katelyn. You and Neil. It isn’t the same.”

“How so?” Andrew’s tone isn’t in the danger zone yet, but it’s edging towards it.

“I’m not talking about the gay thing. I’m talking about…” The hand Aaron was waving clenches into a fist as he drops it into his lap. “Don’t make me say it.”

Andrew and Bee share a look over his head.

“Aaron,” says Bee.

“I just, fucking…” Aaron grapples with words, struggling to find a combination that won’t rip them apart any worse than they already have been. “How the fuck can you expect me to believe that you and him… that you’re real. That you’re normal, that you’re like us, after everything those fuckers did to you. What makes him so different?”

Andrew watches him. Just when Aaron resigns himself to the fact that no answer is coming, Andrew speaks. “If I ask him to stop, he stops.”

Aaron bites down on the inside of his cheek so hard that he thinks he might have drawn blood. “It can’t be that simple.”

Andrew shrugs.

“How?”

Andrew’s eyes flicker upwards, like he would rather be anywhere else, having any other conversation in the world than this one. “We have a system. We don’t touch each other without asking first. We listen to each other. We talk. What more do you need me to say?”

Aaron falls silent. He doesn’t know what he needs from his brother, still, but it’s something.

“I have a question in return,” Andrew’s eyes flick to Bee. He isn’t looking for permission, but she nods in encouragement nonetheless. “Katelyn. What makes her so different?” Andrew meets his gaze dead-on as he turns Aaron’s own words back on him. “How can you trust her, after everything that bitch Tilda did to you?”

And finally, it all clicks into place.

Aaron forces himself to look his brother in the eyes. So much like his, yet at the same time so different. “Okay,” he concedes at last. “I see.”

Because, at last, he does.

 #7 Allison

Neil appears at Allison’s door with a black eye, a bust lip, and the words “don’t freak out,” spilling from his mouth before she can get so much as a word in.

“Great start,” she says, pulling him in. “Who do I need to kill?”

“My shoelace came undone and I ate shit while I was on my run. I just need enough makeup that I can get through class without looking like I’ve been in a fight again. Do you know how many of my lecturers have taken me aside to give me the domestic abuse hotline?”

“You should know how to do this yourself by now.” Allison rolls her eyes as she leads Neil through to the table.

“You’re better at it,” he admits grudgingly, and oh, doesn’t that just warm her heart to hear.

“Nice try. You’re still taking me out for coffee after this.”

Neil pulls a face, and Allison laughs. It doesn’t take long – Allison has treated him in far, far worse shape, as much as she’d rather not think about it – and soon there’s only the faintest smudge around Neil’s eye.

“Can I tempt you to some mascara? Glitter?” Allison asks, waggling her eyebrows as she spreads the contents of her makeup bag out for his inspection.

“Maybe next time,” says Neil, “When I’m not going to a calculus lecture.”

“But that’s the best place for it.” Allison dabs the tip of his nose with her brush, and Neil’s face scrunches up as he tries to hold back a sneeze. His hair flops back down over his forehead as he moves, falling into his eyes.

“Don’t move just yet,” Allison says, yanking a drawer open and fumbling for the kitchen scissors. “I’ve been meaning to deal with that mop for weeks, and right now I have you trapped.”

“Oh, no,” Neil says flatly, but still he surrenders herself to her demands. Wise move.

“Perfect,” says Allison a few minutes later, ruffling Neil’s hair to shake away the last loose strands. “Ready for the red carpet now. I hope there aren’t any cute guys in your maths class, or Andrew is going to go mad with jealousy.”

Neil snorts. “He’s not really the type.”

“Mhmm,” says Allison, because in her experience, everyone is the type.

Speaking of the psychotic little devil himself, Andrew bursts through the door just as Allison is brushing up the last of the trimmings.

“Hey,” Neil says, apparently impervious to Andrew’s thunderous entrance. Andrew ignores the greeting, taking hold of Neil’s chin to turn his face from side to side.

“Kevin said you fell,” he says, relinquishing the grip. Allison half-turns away, pretending to busy herself tidying but really listening, because the monster’s overbearing-boyfriend performances are rarely seen in public yet endlessly entertaining.

“Shoelaces. Who could have seen it coming?”

“I did. And warned you. Twice.”

Neil winces. “My bad.”

Andrew mutters something under his breath that seems to involve the words kill you. The day Allison understands their relationship is the day that she gives up on any and all gossip for the rest of her life.

Then, Andrew pauses, distracted. “Did you trip and fall onto a pair of sheers?”

“Allison gave me a haircut. How does it look?”

Andrew holds his hand in front of Neil’s face. When Neil nods, Andrew runs it quickly through his hair, gently tugging at the roots as he goes. “Awful.”

“Hey,” Allison interrupts, outraged. They both start, and Andrew’s hand drops away, like they had forgotten she was there. Which was the point, really. She holds the scissors in Andrew’s direction. “You’re next, scraggy.”

“When I’m dead,” Andrew replies flatly. It’s clear he isn’t joking. Neil shakes his head at them both.

“Come on, then,” Allison says. “Neil’s taking me for coffee. Give us a ride and I’ll buy you the sugariest, most expensive drink on the menu. I’m hoping the diabetes will finish you off if lung cancer falls through.”

Andrew glances between them. “Fine.”

Sugar and Neil; the keys to Andrew’s stony little heart.

 #8 Nicky

Nicky is fully capable of responding to his cousin’s newfound domestic happiness with maturity and decorum.

He just chooses not to.

This has nearly ended in violence no less than eight times. But really, how can he be expected to let it lie when his cousin, who came to him an unruly, violent teen to whom any conversation was like pulling teeth with plastic tweezers, is, for the first time, experiencing the gay teen college romance Nicky could only have dreamed of?

With his fiancée a million miles away, Nicky has to live vicariously when it comes to matters of the heart. There is no better subject for this than his violent baby cousin, who, it seems, isn’t such a baby anymore.

Nicky is beyond late for his class already when he realises that his laptop is dead. He had been skyping with Eric until ass-o-clock in the morning, forgot to plug it in before passing out in his bunk and is paying for it three-fold. He has two options; pencil and paper (what is he, a toddler?) or steal someone’s laptop. The answer is both clear and obvious.

Andrew’s is the first to hand. He most likely won’t surface until noon, by which time Nicky will have returned from class, leaving him none the wiser. The perfect crime.

Or it is the perfect crime until Nicky opens the laptop in the middle of his seminar to a webpage that is filled with very, very unsafe-for-classroom content.

Nicky slams the laptop shut. It wasn’t a video, none of the sites Nicky knew from his own fits of late-night loneliness. Large blocks of text, diagrams that were more analytical than downright pornographic. Nicky slides the laptop open again, just enough for the screen to light up once more, and tabs up. No, not porn. Informative. Educational.

The girl beside him, although unable to see his screen, is giving Nicky some very strange looks. Nicky glances back to the laptop before sliding it shut once more. Pencil and paper will have to do.

The class is drier than dirt, leaving Nicky’s mind with far too much space to think. A dangerous pastime in Nicky’s case, Eric would say teasingly. Nicky had assumed – well, not that he had thought about it, much, but Andrew always seemed so set and sure of himself that it was hard to imagine him googling how-to guides like an acne-riddled teen the night before prom. His apparent innocence is weirdly adorable. Not a word Nicky uses out-loud in his cousin’s presence, but true all the same.

Nicky remembers his first time. Awkward, uncomfortable, and involving entirely the wrong set of genitals. He can only hope Andrew and Neil’s is better.

He shouldn’t get involved. He really, really, shouldn’t.

Nicky slips the laptop back into place mere moments before Andrew slouches into the living space. Nicky watches him as the coffee-maker gurgles away, thinking.

“Andrew.”

Andrew glances up. Nicky isn’t sure what he reads in his face, but it must be setting off alarm bells, because his hands move almost unconsciously to his sleeves. Nicky holds his hands up.

“Hey!”

“What?”

“I just…” Oh, this is a lot more awkward than Nicky anticipated. “You know, I’m always here for you. If there’s anything you want to talk about.” He clears his throat. “If you have any questions…”

Andrew’s eyes narrow. They flick in the direction of his desk. Nicky remembers, far too late, Andrew’s impossibly perfect memory. He would remember the exact position he left his laptop in. Nicky is busted.

“Don’t borrow my laptop,” Andrew snarls. The coffee brewer clicks, and it may be the only thing that saves Nicky’s life.

“I’m sorry! I was in a rush!” Nicky says weekly. “If it’s any consolation, the guy who sits behind me now thinks I’m a grade-A pervert.”

Andrew slams a mug down on the counter so hard he almost cracks it. “One more word. One more.”

“I won’t. I won’t, I promise, I’ve been there, okay?”

Andrew takes his coffee and his laptop and leaves without another word. Nicky counts it as a blessing.

The next day, he’s working his way through the mother of all essays when Andrew enters the room, pulling the door shut behind him. Nicky keeps working until Andrew pulls a chair over to Nicky’s desk and sits in it. He stops typing mid-sentence, fingers hovering over the keys.

“Everything okay, Andrew?”

“I want you to take a moment and remember how many knives I have on me right now.”

“A lot, I assume.”

“A lot,” Andrew confirms. “If I had any other choice in the world, I would take it. But I have you. So, I’m going to ask you something, and you are going to be calm and level and mature and everything that you usually are not when you answer.”

“Of course,” Nicky says in a heartbeat. He can’t think of a single time Andrew has ever come to him for help, not even when he was wrapped up in bed and coughing his lungs out the day before his AP Calc exam. Nicky has never been more determined to get something right in his life.

“How,” Andrew says, stops, starts again. Today is full of firsts; Andrew is usually so careful and measured with his words. “How do I do it without hurting him?”

Nicky’s heart is ready to melt or break or explode, maybe all at once. “Oh, Andrew.”

“The knives, Nicky. Remember the knives.”

“Okay,” says Nicky, and he tells Andrew everything he can. He wants, more than anything, for Andrew to be safe and happy, and if it involves going into details that even Nicky is squeamish about discussing with family, then that’s what he’ll do.

He offers to write out a list of reliable books and websites for Andrew to check out, ones he used himself and others Eric recommended to him. Andrew shakes his head.

“Just tell me. I’ll remember them.”

When they’re done, Nicky almost claps Andrew on the shoulder. He thinks better of it, hand hovering mid-air before he withdraws it. “Andrew.”

Andrew is half-way out the door, but he stops, which is more than Nicky expected.

“You’ll be fine.”

Andrew huffs, and abruptly disappears. Nicky smiles to himself as he turns back to his essay.

It took him a long time to piece it all together, but the truth is that Andrew really can be quite sweet, in his own terrifying way.

Nicky wonders how long it will be before he has to give Neil the sex talk too. Maybe he should offer.

Best not to; he has some self-preservation instincts, after all.

 #9 Renee

Renne likes to think that she has improved at reading Andrew over the years. Some of his quirks are more obvious than others, however; it doesn’t take a student of human character to notice that when Andrew wants to spar, it’s usually because he has something on his mind.

Renee is hardly in a position to judge, not when she finds the cut and blow of a vicious fistfight as cathartic as he does. There’s still a piece of Natalie Shields underneath all of Renee’s growth like the pit at the heart of a peach. Sometimes the best way of holding her down is by letting her out in controlled increments. Give her the inch so she won’t take the mile.

As usual, it is only when they have beaten each other to exhaustion and back that Andrew is ready to talk. They sit cross-legged in the centre of the room, slurping down apple-juice cartons like kids in the playground, and finally, Andrew speaks.

“I want you to train Neil.”

Renee sets her carton down. “I thought Matt was teaching him to box.”

“He’s a shit boxer.”

“Neil or Matt?”

“Both.”

Renee shakes her head. She reaches back to pull out her hair tie, letting her bangs tumble back into their usual place. “Is there a reason Neil hasn’t asked me himself?”

Andrew is silent. There it is; the heart of the matter.

Renee sighs. “I’m not going to force Neil to train with me if he doesn’t want to.”

“I don’t force Neil to do anything,” Andrew says sharply. Renee winces; it was a poor choice of words on her part.

“Why do you think he needs it?”

“Matt is teaching him how to box. It’s not the same as real fighting.”

Renee hums. “Can’t he do something for fun?”

“That’s not the point. Besides,” Andrew pauses. “Matt only knows how to fight like the fuck-off giant that he is.”

Renee can’t argue with that; Matt never had to learn the same style of combat that she and Andrew did. He may teach Neil how to throw a good punch, but there’s a big difference in stance and strategy when your opponent is a foot taller than you. Renee and Andrew learned that the hard way.

“And who is it that you think Neil is going to be fighting?”

Andrew waves one arm in an all-encompassing gesture. “Have you met him?”

“Andrew.”

“Renee,” he shoots back, imitating her tone and inflection.

“What did he say when you suggested that I teach him?”

Andrew scrunches up his features in an imitation of Neil’s ugh face. “He said that he gets enough bruises as it is.”

“He’s not wrong.”

Andrew doesn’t roll his eyes, but his eyebrows twitch as though he’s considering it. “He also said he doesn’t need to get any better. Because he…” Andrew grimaces. Sharing is still tough for him, even after years of therapy and trust. “He has me to protect him.”

“As I said,” Renee says, smiling. “He’s not wrong.”

“He’s an idiot.”

“He has his moments.”

They finish their juice boxes in silence.

“Well,” says Renee, getting back to her feet. Her legs may be going stiff, but there’s still some fight left in her. There always is. “I may not be able to train Neil, but at least I can train his bodyguard to the best of my ability.” She holds her hand out to Andrew. After a moment of careful consideration, he takes it, using the pull to swing himself to his feet. “One more round?”

Andrew nods, determination setting in his eyes like concrete. “One more round.”

Renee likes to think that she has improved at reading Andrew over the years. This time, as they trade hits and kicks, it isn’t anger or frustration powering Andrew’s movements; it’s something far more powerful.

She thinks – hopes – prays – that the worst of Neil’s fights are behind them. All the same, she sleeps a little easier knowing that, should the day come, Andrew will be at his back with a knife in each hand.

That’s love, after all.

.

Thank you for reading - please let me know what you thought

Still open to requests!

[lifeofclonewars]

Plo Noon, Compet, Sinkspur, Dooffe, and Spewst

Part 2 to Wolffe Koon and the Missing Aliit Members (Sequel to Zoolffe, Stinker, Zoost, Gonet, and Glo Koon. I recommend you read that first). Part 6 of Pun Wars (I’d appreciate if you read those first, but not required for understanding).

As always, AO3 link is below if you prefer that.

Summary:

*hacker voice* I’m In Petition to get GPS trackers for Wolffe for his aliit

Jurassic Park I second

Keeling Over Same

Thorn In Your Side Definitely Sorry Boost and Sinker

T-Mobile No, I totally get it

Werewolf? There Wolffe! I hate you all

--

In which Plo gets lo-- er, sidetracked-- around noon, Comet attempts to adopt a penguin, Sinker spurs on the group chat, Wolffe makes a doof of himself, and Boost continues to spew facts.

----

Chat: Fett Dynasty

Jurassic Park

Wait, seriously?

Wow, that was less time than I thought

Werewolf? There Wolffe!

Yeah, same

But we’re 100% sticking together this time

T-Mobile

Yeah, cause some of us can’t watch a 10 y/o properly

Werewolf? There Wolffe!

Boost

T-Mobile

Yeah?

Werewolf? There Wolffe!

Shut it

Think Outside The Fox

Lol

----

Two weeks after the Zoo Incident, the Koons were headed out in public again. Destination: the aquarium. Buir insisted they’d be able to handle it, as long as they didn’t split into groups this time. Boost agreed readily, excited to put his new zoology book facts to the test. Comet was most enthusiastic about seeing more penguins. Sinker and Wolffe? Well, they were looking for a chance to prove their trustworthiness when watching Comet again. Even if they weren’t splitting up. 

Wolffe had a feeling his brothers’ increasingly chaotic shenanigans from staying at home is what pushed his dad into planning this trip. 

(Probably somewhere between Sinker and Boost screaming while threatening to re-dye each other’s hair and Comet sneak-attacking Sinker and causing them to almost stumble into Mom’s favorite vase. Or maybe between Comet trying to get Warthog and Meerkat to let him set Vandor on their backs and Boost reciting his zoology book up the staircase to bug Wolffe. Actually, likely after ba’vodu Alph’s kids visited one day and created more chaos in two hours than the four of them had managed to make in a week.)

The aquarium was across the city from the zoo. While it was smaller in perimeter, it had multiple floors, something the zoo was unable to do. Three levels in all, plus a sort-of-a-stadium where they held demonstrative shows, and seemingly more crowded than the zoo.

Given the space differences, the number of people was likely the same. But due to the closer quarters, staying together and not splitting up— intentionally or not— would present itself as a challenge. 

The entrance had been filled with people packed like sardines. Somehow, the Koons had made it through without incident and then were off to the nearest bit of wall to plan. Immediately, Sinker slumped against it. Boost had been the one to grab a map this time; he took his time making a show out of unfurling the paper. 

“This place looks sofishticated,” buir stated. More puns, because what is a Koon family trip without them, apparently. Not that he was wrong; the place was an odd cross between neoclassical and modern architecture. Like someone mashed Ancient Greece and the city’s downtown into one building and somehow pulled it off.

“Why yes, yes it does,” Boost responded with a dramatic flair. He scanned the map, then folded it up, tucking it under his arm. “We’re going to the sharks first because I said so.”

Buir leveled him with a look but when his other three sons shrugged their shoulders, off they went. 

The sharks weren’t in the immediate vicinity. Instead, it was across the building and on the second level. A quick trip through the nearest staircase and a walk across, and they were there. A plastic reef greeted them as they walked into the exhibit. 

Once inside, glasses lined both lines, holding a rainbow of fish, flora, and other marine creatures. Sharks swam about, minding their own business and going about whatever giant fish did on a daily basis. Some of the tanks only held certain species of sharks, while others (the larger ones) held a wide array. 

Informative signs stood wedged in corners and in front of the glass. Comet spent his time pointing out things mentioned on signs in real life. Sinker simply observed, and Boost began to talk their ears off once more. The zoology book he had gotten at the zoo had just added fuel to the fire.

Chat: Fett Dynasty

Banana Sink

Boost stop talking and let me enjoy the killer fish in peace challenge

Hunter-Gatherer

...what

Thorn In Your Side

You good there, Sinker?

Werewolf? There Wolffe!

We’re by the sharks. Boost is flaunting his zoology brain again

Green Man

I approve

Banana Sink

You don’t get a say in this, Mr. Biologist

We’ve been at the aquarium all of 10 minutes and he hasn’t shut up once

Sixes

r.i.p. your ears

Have fun

Banana Sink

Gree please adopt him, kidnap him, something!

It’ll do both of us a favor

Old Man Dad Bly

Gree, vod, Do Not

Green Man

Sorry, ori’vod, that sounds like a good plan…

Lakes

Have fun, Gree

I’ll be ready if you just so happen to need bailing out

Regardless of what was happening between the cousins, Boost ignored the notifications and continued to talk more. Honestly, not that that was a surprise. He probably couldn’t even feel the phone buzzing over how fast his vocal cords were working. 

As they moved towards the exit, buir turned, stated, “Stay jaw-some,” and continued on. Sinker shared an exasperated look with Wolffe before following after him. Comet raised an eyebrow, grabbed his eldest brother’s hand, and dragged him along. 

They exited and Boost once again took charge, leading them to the nearest exhibit. This time: whales. 

“Whale, whale, whale, what do we have here?” buir questioned as they entered and turned towards the first set of whales. Behind the glass was a trio of dwarf sperm whales— the smallest whale species, according to both the plaque and Boost’s running commentary.

“Is anyone going to keep a running number this time?” Wolffe suggested.

“I do every day,” Sinker admitted, “but not because I want to. It’s like a permanent fixture in my head to try to keep me sane as I listen to them.” At that, Comet snickered into his free hand. “He’s only at three but that’s bound to rocket sooner rather than later.”

“Tell me when he hits ten,” Comet said. Sinker rolled his eyes and nodded. They were all vulnerable to Comet’s requests and they knew it. Try as they might, it was hard to say no to him. Stupid baby brother effect.

The aquarium didn’t have as many kinds of whales as they did sharks. Besides the dwarf sperm whales, they had belugas, orcas, and a few others Wolffe didn’t bother reading the plaques of. At one of the tanks, one of the employees was feeding the whales. 

Buir’s face lit up in sudden comprehension. He listened to Boost chatter on, and, after a pause where Boost caught his breath after an exclamation, opened his mouth. “You’re krilling me right now! That’s super cool!”

Sinker looked dead inside. 

“Hey, cheer up, Sink,” Comet chirped at him. “Sometimes life can be over-whale-ming. It’s okay.”

“Not you, too,” he mumbled, dropping his head into his hands. Comet just laughed and skipped over to buir.

As Comet began to recount what just happened, Boost turned to the other two. “Did I just hear Comet make his own whale pun?” The look on Sinker’s face said enough. Boost laughed. “I’m so proud of him. You’ll be fine, Sink. Everything whale be okay. Whether that’s once we leave the exhibit or the aquarium is up to debate, though.”

“You stink.”

“No worse than you.”

They continued through the end of the exhibit with more bickering and teasing. The exit opened up into a hallway filled with people. Seeing the crowd, they stayed by the doorway but not blocking it. Buir turned toward his silver-haired son. “Is there anywhere you’d like to see? I fear we’ve been leaving you out of these decisions.”

He shrugged. “I’m fine with it. But seeing sea otters again would be cool.” 

Consulting the map told them the sea otters were on a different floor. Once again, they wormed their way through the crowds, hands and arms grasped, until they came across a staircase and made their way to the third floor. 

Unsurprisingly, the third floor had as many people as the other two floors did. One crammed walk and they made it to their destination. These exhibits were different from the ones they had seen so far. The sharks’ had been tanks filled almost completely to the ceiling. The whales’ had the same height of tanks but had been half-filled, leaving room for air and whatever tricks the smaller ones felt like attempting.

Instead, there was a shallower pool and many rocks for the sea otters to climb around on. All things considered, it didn’t look too different than the one they had seen at the zoo. And just like at the zoo, Comet began to wave. 

A small otter wandered their way closer to the glass. It waved and Comet’s face split into a grin. How the Force was he this lucky with animals? He must radiate some pure, shiny, approachable vibes to them because this was uncanny. 

“Aww,” buir said, watching the little bugger and his new friend wave at each other. “How otterly adorable.”

Whether he was calling Comet or the otter cute didn’t matter: either way, Sinker groaned. 

“Oh, no!” Boost exclaimed. “Not an otter pun!” His raised voice and exaggerated gestures as he said it led Sinker to reaching over and punching him.

“Stop making fun of me.”

The maroon-haired teen’s face scrunched up. “I didn’t say anything related to you.”

“It was implied.”

“Would you rather I start listing facts about otters?” He raised an eyebrow at his younger brother.

“I’m good.”

“So I thought.”

Wolffe rolled his eyes as the duo turned back to the otters. Comet had made his way to the plaque and was scanning it for names. Continuing with his tradition of trying to find individual ones and waving to each, he exuded elation. His joy appeared to be rubbing off as other groups, both passing and watching the otters themselves, smiled at his antics and even beginning waving themselves. 

Once done, he climbed on top of the plaque.

“Comet—” buir started but didn’t get far.

“I’m fine!” The ten-year-old flung himself off of his perch and onto Wolffe’s back. He slammed into him, immediately wrapping himself around his older brother’s torso and beaming.

“A bit of warning would’ve been nice,” Wolffe grumbled as he readjusted his vod’ika. He should’ve seen this coming, especially given how many times he’d carried around the stinker at the zoo. And his non-diminishing penchant for monkeying around. 

Snickers came from behind them. Sinker and Boost, for sure. Probably some bystanders, as well. He turned just in time for Sinker to yank his phone down. The odds of a picture landing itself in the cousin chat and everyone teasing him grew higher with the grin spreading across the brat’s face. 

His phone buzzed once in his pocket, then a fast-paced fourteen following it. Yep. 

The look he threw his brother must’ve instilled some sense of fear in him. The thirteen-year-old gulped, then turned to their dad. “Let’s go somewhere else.”

“Dolphins!” Comet blurted out from behind Wolffe.

Boost nodded. “Yeah, let’s see the dolphins.”

And off they went once more.

Banana Sink

Attached: piggyback-time.jpeg

Think Outside The Fox

Aww

Having a smiling kid on his back cancels out the scowl

Jurassic Park

Wow

It really does

Lakes

Petition to pay Comet to live on Wolffe’s back to cancel it out forever

Zzzzzz

Seconded

Green Man

I would pay to see that

Lakes

Smh Gree can you read I said that

Green Man

...

T-Mobile

I can pay him candy to stay until lunch

Lakes

Beautiful, ty

*hacker voice* I’m In

You’re a miracle worker, Boost

T-Mobile

Why thank you

It’s a talent of mine

Werewolf? There Wolffe!

@T-Mobile friendly reminder I’m missing an eye, not an ear

And I have never heard you whisper once in my life

Including 2 minutes ago

Neigh

That was so passive-aggressive I love it

Thorn In Your Side

😂 aliit, I love you guys so much

Think Outside The Fox

We know, Thorn

You remind us every 10 minutes

Lakes

So did it not work?

Werewolf? There Wolffe?

You’re really asking?

Getting to the dolphins was a quick trip on the level they were on. With no workers throwing out puns, buir, once again, took the responsibility upon himself. As they watched the mammals flip and goof off, he told them to his sons.  “That was flipping fantastic” and “They have a legasea” came first. 

When Sinker, predictably, groaned, he turned. “My son, I must have you know, all of my puns are on porpoise.” 

Sinker groaned louder. “I know, buir. I know.”

While watching the flips and tricks, buir’s attention was drawn toward a flyer posted by the glass. It announced the daily presentation times, where the dolphins, seals, orcas, and other animals put on a show. Looking at the times on the paper and the one on his watch, he called his sons over. 

“If we eat now and quickly, we will have ten minutes to make it to the stadium for the next show.”

With nods of agreement in response, the Koons set off for the restaurants. Seating outside of the food court-esque area allowed guests both buying and bringing their meals to stop and enjoy their time. Tables and booths packed with people spanned the area. After a few minutes of careful checking, Boost pointed out an empty booth for them to settle into.

Like at the zoo, the Koons brought their lunches. Sandwiches, cheese sticks, fruit snacks, and whatever else Comet and Sinker had snuck into the bags. The fruit snacks — dinosaur and shark themed —  felt fitting for the occasion. 

Sinker and Boost fell into their normal routine of bickering as they ate. Comet made comments at such precise moments there was no way he wasn’t trying to instigate a fight. The little stinker was too impish for his own good at times.

In fact, the bickering lasted so long and escalated so far that they missed the show. Bickering had overtaken eating, lunch extended, and suddenly buir noticed it was ten minutes past the show’s start time.

Comet pouted at the news; the two teens glared daggers at each other. If looks could kill, they’d both be dead.

With a sigh, Wolffe asked when the next show started. Buir thanked his eldest for reminding the group of the other opportunities and proceeded to look it up. In two hours, the search told them. With that, everyone finished eating, conversation now switching to more facts from Boost.

They packed up the remnants of their food and headed back inside the rest of the aquarium. People continued to mill about, many also coming off a lunch break. Their group gravitated towards a — somehow — empty bench and set the bag down. Comet plopped himself on the seat between the bag and the end. Sinker sat on the other side of the bag. 

“I’m going to the bathroom. Anyone else need to?” buir asked. Shaking heads answered him. “Alright. Stay here, I’ll be back soon.”

“Yes, buir,” Wolffe responded for his brothers. The rascals already zoned out and started doing their own thing. Their father set off in the direction of the bathrooms and Wolffe turned his attention to his vode.

Comet examined the map, though he appeared to be looking at the times of the demonstrations more than the building. Boost made himself comfortable on the far end of the bench, phone in hand. Sinker had his own phone out and — yep, there was a buzz. Sighing, Wolffe settled himself between Sinker and Boost and pulled out his own.

Jurassic Park

Fives, stop trying to convince people your full name is Fivestones

Sixes

Never!

Neigh

Did I read that right?

Jurassic Park

And stop trying to convince people Echo’s name is Echocardiography

ECHO Echo echo

It’s their fault for falling for it

Lakes

I’m sorry WHAT

Sixes

You see, when you have cousins named Pontius and Fox and literally all the names of the Koons and Unique and so on, it’s not that difficult to trick them

ECHO Echo echo

It really isn’t

Lakes

Wow, thanks for that

T-Mobile

I like my name a lot, thank you very much

Banana Sink

That’s not fair. I think subclan 2 has the weirdest names of all of us, not my subclan

Think Outside The Fox

I didn’t ask to be named this

Lakes

Mood

*hacker voice* I’m In

Yeah, but neither of you have changed it despite being legally able to

Green Man

CODY

*hacker voice* I’m In

What kind of name is Gree anyway

Green Man

DUDE 

The texting continued, as it was bound to in the Fett clan. Wolffe frowned when he glanced at the time. It had been about fifteen minutes since buir had left. If there was a line, that’d be about right. Not too odd, but if it got any longer… eh, they’ll cross that bridge if they get to it. He shot off a quick text to buir, asking to text him when he was on his way back.

“Comet, stop poking Sinker.”

Said little brother stuck his tongue out but stopped. He moved on to poking and picking at the bench instead. 

Thorn In Your Side

… aNyWay

I have news!

Think Outside The Fox

Is it really news if we all can guess what it is

Thorn In Your Side

Shevi

I have the privilege of announcing that the Annual Fett Family Gathering is happening in exactly a month and 3 days from today!

Think Outside The Fox

Why couldn’t you just put the date like a normal person

Thorn In Your Side

Because I knew it would bug you

Werewolf? There Wolffe!

I gotta say, that’s reasonable

Thorn In Your Side

Ty Wolffe

At least someone’s on my side here

Think Outside The Fox

I despise you all

Green Man

Aww we love you too Fox

Think Outside The Fox

Why do I even try anymore

Thorn In Your Side

So, yeah, further info to come

Keeling Over

Let’s avoid another Mud Incident this year, thanks

Hunter-Gatherer

I second that

Orange Gal

Lol of course you two do

But I agree

Zzzzzz

I still have pics if anyone wants them 

Neigh

So evil, Zari, so evil

Zzzzzz

They include you, ori’vod 😁

Neigh

I Resent this

It had been over half an hour now. While the chat was always a source of amusement, it didn’t stop the concern seeping into Wolffe’s mind. Sure, the aquarium was busy, but not that busy. Thirty minutes was pushing it for a single bathroom; this place had multiple. He hadn’t gotten a text back yet, either.

“Hey,” he said, grabbing attention away from phones. “It’s been half an hour since buir left. Something’s up, don’t you think?”

Boost frowned. “That is an abnormally long amount of time.”

“Should we try calling him?” Sinker suggested.

“That’s a bit awkward to answer in the bathroom.” Boost crossed his arms as he made his point.

“Yeah, but he could always decline it and text us a response instead,” Sinker argued. 

They did that, to no avail. No response, calling or texting. This was not a good sign.

The boys stood up, corralled themselves together, Boost putting on the backpack, and headed over to the bathroom to see what was up. Hopefully, nothing bad happened. 

When they got there, there were a couple of people at the sinks, but that was it. No sign of their dad anywhere. There wasn’t a sign of an accident or kidnapping or anything, either. 

“What,” Sinker stated.

“I have no clue,” Boost responded. They turned toward Wolffe.

He shrugged his shoulders. “I have as much of a clue as you do.” They stood in silence for a moment, Comet glancing between the other three, waiting for a reaction. “Let’s check the other bathrooms. Maybe he went to a different one?”

Buir didn’t show up at any of the bathrooms on the level. Again, there were no signs of struggle or of anything bad that could’ve occurred. They agreed it wasn’t likely he’d gone to another level. As they went back to the bench they had occupied earlier, the irony of the situation fell on Wolffe. They had stayed as a group specifically so they didn’t lose Comet and in the process ended up losing their dad. Shi kaysh jate‘kara.

“We lost buir,” he said simply. Comet frowned; Sinker looked like he was holding in a laugh. 

“That we did,” Boost agreed. “Have fun trying to get your way out of this one.”

Wolffe rolled his eyes and turned to the silver-haired teen. “Any ideas, provided you’re going to keep your promise?”

Sinker’s eyes widened. “I was hoping you forgot about that,” he mumbled like it hadn’t been only two weeks. He cleared his throat and said, louder, “Uh, how about the front desk?”

“They’ll have the announcement system to call him over,” Boost pointed out.

“Great. Front desk it is.” He took a hold of Comet’s shoulder in one hand, Sinker’s shoulder in the other. Boost led the way through the exhibits and rooms until they reached the entrance. A Visitor’s Services desk stood behind the ticket desk and they made their way over.

After the person in front of them left, they stepped up. Comet directly in front of him, Boost to his left and Sinker to his right. “What can I do for you boys?” the elderly lady behind the desk asked.

“We got separated from our father,” Wolffe said. Saying it out loud to someone who wasn’t one of his brothers increased Wolffe’s awareness of everything going on around them. Great. He pushed the urge to shift his weight away. This was fine. They were doing the responsible thing, after all. 

The lady peered at them over the top of her glasses like she belonged in a movie with a judgemental librarian and not on an aquarium staff. She was definitely taking stock of how old he and his brothers were. “Is this a frequent occurrence?”

“No, this is the first time.”

“Well, as parents get older, things like this can occ—-”

“He’s not that old,” Wolffe cut her off.

“Yeah, he’s like, forty-something, right?” Boost piped up.

Wolffe turned to the teen and frowned. “You didn’t need to share that.” He got a shrug in response. His phone buzzed and he turned toward his other teenaged brother. “Give me your phone.”

Sinker narrowed his eyes at him. “Why should I?”

“No repeats of the zoo.” He held out his hand expectantly. Sinker rolled his eyes and handed it to him. He turned and did the same to Boost, just in case.

All the while, the lady watched them with a sharp eye. “Has your father had memory problems?” she said, bringing their attention back to why they were there. 

Wolffe scowled. “No, and I don’t see why that’s pertinent information. Can you help us locate our dad or not?” Comet leaned back a smidge and gave his chest a headbutt with the back of his head. Wolffe glanced down and Comet gave him a small smile. 

They stood in silence as they waited for a response. Again, it seemed like the lady was trying to nitpick details about them and what they meant by observing them. Finally, she pushed her glasses up her nose and sniffed once. “I can make an announcement and try to call him here.”

“That’s all we’re asking for.” 

After giving the necessary information, the Koon boys were shuffled to the side. They waited near the desk as the intercom stated Plo Koon to the Visitors' Services Desk. Your children are waiting for you. The lady continued to help other people. Everyone seemed to be getting the same supercilious treatment they had received. 

The minutes passed slowly until a frantic movement from by the entrance to the aquarium-proper caught Wolffe’s eye. It was buir, politely not-quite-rushing his way through the crowds to his sons. 

Comet looked at Wolffe, then in the direction his ori’vod was looking. He perked up, a grin stretching across his face. “Buir!”

“Comet! Wolffe, Sinker, Boost.” He came to a stop in front of them. 

“Where were you?!” Boost exclaimed. “We looked, but you weren’t in any of the bathrooms.”

Buir’s eyes widened in dawning realization. “I didn’t go to the bathroom,” he admitted. “I got sidetracked by the jellyfish. They are quite fascinating to watch.” 

The jellyfish? That was some detour. He must’ve seen the sign for them and forgot his original plan since they were smack dab in the middle of two of the bathrooms. Boost had almost gotten sidetracked when they were searching for buir, but Wolffe had kept him on track. Like father, like son, it seemed. Maybe if he had let Boost get sidetracked, they’d have found buir themselves.

“How about we all go to the bathroom this time, and then the jellyfish?”

“Yes, that sounds like a better plan,” buir agreed. Then, they were off, phones given back, and hoping nobody else got lost.

Banana Sink

We lost buir this time

Werewolf? There Wolffe!

This is exactly why I took your phone in the first place.

Think Outside The Fox

Fjadskldfsa

Guys, we found Wolffe’s talent

Losing his family members in public

Werewolf? There Wolffe!

Gee thanks

Lakes

Any details to share?

T-Mobile

He was going to go to the bathroom but got sidetracked by the jellyfish

Which,,, fair enough

Werewolf? There Wolffe!

So nowhere near my fault this time

Banana Sink

He had to explain to this scowly lady what happened

It was super funny

*hacker voice* I’m In

You actively tried to avoid it and it still happened

Werewolf? There Wolffe!

Again, not my fault

*hacker voice* I’m In

That has got to be the funniest thing I’ve heard all day 😂

Green Man

Wolffe,,, Wolffe, buddy

Werewolf? There Wolffe!

Don’t

Green Man

How?! 😂 

*hacker voice* I’m In

Petition to get GPS trackers for Wolffe for his aliit

Jurassic Park

I second

Keeling Over

Same

Thorn In Your Side

Definitely

Sorry Boost and Sinker

T-Mobile

No, I totally get it

Werewolf? There Wolffe!

I hate you all

----

The jellyfish were as enrapturing as buir claimed and Boost had anticipated. One more pun was given as everyone (even Sinker) stood preoccupied by them: this has been a jelly good day! There was something mystical about watching these creatures with no heart or brain swim around and just exist. Comet even made a reference to Finding Nemo when he saw some smaller ones. Sooner than they expected, buir’s alarm had gone off. Close to an hour had passed and none of them had noticed.

Finally, the family made their way, on time, to the show. They snagged seats approximately halfway up the stands. No splash-zone to worry about this time, either, the workers assured. The front walkways had to be accessible for wheelchairs and a surprise in the show. As a result, the stands themselves were closer and they ended up with about the same view as they had at the zoo.

Comet somehow got his hands on the flier buir had passed over on their way in. The flier about ‘adopting’ various animals at the aquarium. “Look at this!” he exclaimed, shoving the paper towards Wolffe. 

Adopt a penguin! Yep, that was why buir had avoided it earlier. And likely not quite what Comet thought it was.

Assured Wolffe got a good look, he pushed it towards buir, nearly bouncing in his seat. “Can we please adopt a penguin, buir?” he asked, pulling out the big guns. And by big guns, that meant his cutest puppy dog eyes. “Gedet’ye, buir.” And switching to Mando’a, so it seemed. 

Buir considered his options for a moment. “Do you have any money to help pay for it?” he asked gently.

Comet pouted. “Nayc.” He swiveled toward Wolffe. “Ori’vod, tion’nari gar gan—”

“No.”

The pout deepened. Buir reached out and patted his youngest’s back gently. “I’m sorry, ad’ika, but we don’t have the money for that. While it would be quite the experience to adopt one, we don’t have the money to have a dog, cat, and penguin.”

“Okay.” He crossed his arms, only to immediately uncross them and sit up straight as the show began. 

Dolphins, seals, and beluga whales performed various tricks while the trainers spouted facts and puns. Sea otters tottered around the ground level and interacted with willing audience members. With every pun, Sinker’s vexation increased and Comet’s and Boost’s elation skyrocketed. 

A loud gasp escaped Comet when they brought the rockhopper penguins out to waddle around. “Buir, buir, buir,” he chanted, shaking their father’s arm. “Can I take pictures of them on your phone?!” Chuckling, buir complied and the ten-year-old spent the rest of the penguins’ appearance captivated.

Once the show finished and provided plenty of entertainment, Comet proceeded to drag the family to the penguin exhibit. He couldn’t get enough of them. When they got there, buir leaned in close and said, “Why did the penguin hop across the street?”

“I dunno, why?”

“To get to the other rock!” 

Comet burst into giggles and proceeded to take over what had essentially become Boost’s job in overflowing with facts about penguins. Although he loved all penguins, it was clear rockhoppers were his favorites. His earlier disappointment over not being allowed to adopt one had dissipated. 

“Buuiiiiir,” Sinker whined with all the gracefulness of a disgruntled thirteen-year-old. “Stoooop, you’re being worse than the workers during the show.”

“Sorry, Sinker. I’ll try to play it more cool from here on out.”

The silver-haired teen slumped into his older brother, Wolffe’s chest muffling the groan he gave. “Why is this my life.”

Wolffe patted his back as he watched Comet have the time of his life. He was in his element here, surrounded by his favorite animal. It would be interesting to see how long this particular interest lasted. Wolffe could picture a future-Comet attempting to become a scientist just to go to Antarctica and see the penguins if it lasted long enough. 

Once Sinker picked himself back up, he made his way to Comet. “By the way,” he said, tapping the ad’ika on the shoulder, “the rockhopper pun was the tenth of buir’s. He’s at eleven now and overall we’re at thirteen.”

“Thirteen?” Boost perked up. “Give me a minute and I can make it fifteen.” 

Sinker rolled his eyes as Comet smiled. “I can help!” he offered. “I may have looked up penguin puns at home one day. I’ve just been letting buir tell them.”

“Go ahead.”

“Boost, waddle I ever do without you?”

“Let’s hope you never end up too icesolated to find out.”

Buir looked on the verge of tears of happiness; Sinker on the verge of tears of frustration; Wolffe rolled his eyes. “Alright, if that’s all, let’s go somewhere else.”

Comet protested and they stayed another ten minutes. Following that, they found themselves in the general area containing fish from all over the world. As the day dragged on, fewer people crowded the area, each having their fill of sea creatures and leaving. With that, buir allowed them to wander wherever they wanted, provided they stayed within the larger section. 

Once Sinker wandered off to find a bench in a different area, buir turned toward Boost. “Any fin is possible, just don’t trout yourself.” 

“There’s some-fin special about you. I’m glad you’re my dad.”

“Why thank you, Boost. If you think of a better fish pun, let minnow.”

“That’s a fintastic idea. Will do.”

Half-twirling around, the maroon-haired teen wandered off to examine more tanks. Comet quickly followed him and the two struck up a quiet conversation as they observed crabs and fish. Wolffe stood next to his dad, watching them for a while. Eventually, they split up to visit different exhibits, leaving their ori’vod and buir standing there. 

Inside the section of the exhibit they stood in, nobody else was in. When the family had entered, it had been as crowded as rooms were getting at this time of day. Now, all the other guests — like the three youngest Koons — had left for other ones. 

Side by side, they watched river fish swimming around. Bluegills and walleyes and trout and more. Without anyone else around, bubbling could be heard from the tanks. That, and the faint whir of the air conditioning. Minutes past and neither dared break the peace which had settled.

A fish started zig-zags when Wolffe cleared his throat. “I think Mom would’ve enjoyed today.”

Buir hummed, hands folded and resting on his torso. “She would have. Especially Comet’s newfound love for penguins and Boost’s for zoology. She was always so excited to watch you boys learning and growing.”

Wolffe remembered her enthusiasm when he and Fox figured out how to rush-attack Bly, Gree, Ponds, and Keeli without them suspecting and had dashed over to tell her and ba’vodu Courey when they were six at a family reunion. Their older cousins had been fourteen, twelve, ten, and eight respectively, and hadn’t even been close to seeing it coming. She had responded with so much joy and happiness to his excitement that six-year-old Wolffe couldn’t help but bask in the warmth of her smile and praise. 

There was also that time when he was nine, Boost was five, and Sinker was three, months before Comet was born. Sinker had been preoccupying Dad with something in the corner while Mom had, ever so patiently, helped Boost and Wolffe create customized magnets for NiNi’s birthday. She encouraged their ideas and helped with the difficult steps and shapes. Her hugs when they finished rivaled only those from NiNi. Full of love and warmth and care for her sons.

Most of his memories of her involved that warmth in some shape or another.

“Sinker would be surrounded by even more puns.”

Buir chuckled. “That he would. That he would.” 

Memories overtook the two as they remembered just over a decade ago. Silence stretched between them once more while they reflected.

That is, until Sinker came barrelling back into the room. “Did you know they have stingrays here?! Let’s go!” He grabbed their hands and attempted to drag them along while walking backwards. 

Right as he appeared to be getting the hang of it, Comet popped up behind him. “Sinker, watch—”

Wolffe lurched forward as Sinker and Comet hit the ground, but managed to stop from falling himself. Buir, having let go in time, watched on, concern and amusement mixing in his eyes. 

“Well.” Sinker stood up.

“Thanks for that,” the ten-year-old said, frowning. He pulled himself into a sitting position. 

“Sorry. Did you see they have stingrays here?”

“That’s why I came back here, actually.” 

They shared a look, then looked at buir. “We were headed that way, weren’t we?” he intoned.

Boost emerged from the doorway. “Did you see the stingrays?”

Sinker pushed him back through the door as Comet picked himself off the ground. “You’re the third person to say that. Let’s go.”

The other two cheered and raced after him. Wolffe shook his head at his brothers’ antics and followed after them, buir not far behind him.

----

Part of the aquarium experience allowed guests to touch the stingrays, provided they washed their hands properly beforehand. The Koons followed procedures and participated. Sinker loved it so much he doled out his only pun of the day: this is a stingray of sunshine today. Buir was so proud, he ended early to take pictures of Sinker and the stingrays. 

After that, they collectively decided they had seen enough of the aquarium and they were ready to head home. Buir announced that, like at the zoo, they would stop by the gift shop. This time was for small items only. If they did everything quickly, they’d be home in time for him to prepare dinner by the normal time. That got the brats moving quickly. 

Comet somehow found a tiny stuffed Cape penguin that he immediately claimed was Vandor’s best friend and named Atoa. Boost got a small jellyfish squish-thing that seemed like half-stress ball, half-figurine. Sinker found a stingray magnet, of all things, and got a shark one for Wolffe when he didn’t look for anything.

Outside the aquarium, buir stopped them on the steps to take a picture. 

“Great! We’ll print this one out, too, and then you can switch it out with the zoo one if you ever want!” Comet told Wolffe. Then he had used the stairs to climb on his shoulders once more and demanded to be carried to the car.

As they settled into the car and began the journey home, Wolffe pulled up the cousin chat and shared some of the news before either of the other teenagers did and completely exaggerated it. 

Werewolf? There Wolffe!

Did I mention Comet tried to adopt a penguin earlier?

Zzzzzz

Fdsjldk that’s so cute

Werewolf? There Wolffe?

Not when you’re the one he asks for money to pay for it

T-Mobile

It was cute

I was there, I saw it happen

Werewolf? There Wolffe?

Shush

T-Mobile

He even switched to only Mando’a

Idk why he thought that’d help him but it was cute

Old Man Dad Bly

Now that’s a Fett kid move, all right

Banana Sink

There was a total of 21 puns today

I almost died

ECHO Echo echo

If I didn’t know you, I’d be concerned those were 2 separate events

T-Mobile

Ignore Sinker

He said one of them, so he has no place to talk

Banana Sink

BOOST

T-Mobile

I am so glad you’re shotgun and I’m in the back

Thorn In Your Side

You guys heading back already?

Werewolf? There Wolffe?

Well, Boost managed to drag us around the whole place this fast, so yeah

T-Mobile

😁 I have no regrets

Banana Sink

YOU SHOULD

Green Man

Speaking of regrets

I regret to inform you that Bly is being a sap again

Old Man Dad Bly

You were the one who asked

Green Man

I have No Idea what you’re talking about

Old Man Dad Bly

Attached: screenshot0345.jpeg

Neigh

I know this wasn’t a surprise to me since Gree’s my ori’vod but are any of you surprised?

Hunter-Gatherer

No

Jurassic Park

Not really, no

T-Mobile

Nope

Orange Gal

No

Green Man

Alright, alright, I get the point

Thorn In Your Side

Oh, is it Expose Your Vode time?

I think Fox just crashed after staying up for 3 days straight

That’s why he hasn’t said anything lately

It’s been a few hours and even Rys and Corsica together couldn’t wake him

Werewolf? There Wolffe?

Oh, again?

*hacker voice* I’m In

Wolffe

Wolffe what do you mean by again

Werewolf? There Wolffe?

Happened a few times these past 2 semesters

Too much work not enough hours

Thorn In Your Side

...this makes so much more sense now

Lakes

What does?

Thorn In Your Side

He’s sent me some incoherent messages when he’s really sleep deprived this past year

I just thought it was one of his friends who stole his phone sometimes

Lakes

This just makes me glad Wolffe and Fox are going to the same college

At least someone’s there we know to look after him

Werewolf? There Wolffe?

Yeah, his roommate and I complained about him together a lot

Orange Gal

LOL

The chat continued the typical Fett brand of chaos up until about five minutes before they got home. When they did, everyone went about, putting stuff away. Wolffe turned to head off to the kitchen to help buir start dinner when his phone started vibrating — consistently, not the odd pattern from the group chat, so it must be a call. He pulled it out, read the contact name, rolled his eyes, and answered.

“What do you want?”

“Well, hello to you, too, Wolffe.” Cody sounded much too amused on the other end.

“Fine, hi. Get to the point.”

He could practically hear Cody’s grin growing. “What would your dad say about you guys joining us for the Coruscant Deltas’ game against the Serenno Clankers?”

----

Mando’a Translations

Buir: Parent

Ba’vodu: Uncle, Aunt

Vod: Sibling

Ori’vod: Older Sibling

Vod’ika: Younger Sibling

Aliit: Family, Clan

Vode: Siblings, plural

Shevi: Silent (Shev'la is the adjective, so this is my approximation of the verb form)

Shi kaysh jate’kara: Just his luck

Gedet’ye: Please

Nayc: No (negative answer)

Ori’vod, tion’nari gar gan-: Roughly “Big brother, do you have” but it’s cut off halfway through have

Ad’ika: Little one, son, daughter

----

And that's part two! Thanks for reading! If you have any questions about the Fett Clan in this AU, feel free to leave a comment, ask, or message. Also, fun fact: Cross is the only one in the cousin chat who didn't say anything! (That's because he mostly lurks lol). There are more cousins than featured here, they're all just too young for a phone. They'll all be featured in part four. Also also: it has come to my attention that kih'vod is most likely the more accurate term for "younger sibling" and vod'ika is more of an affectionate term. For the sake of continuity in this series, vod'ika will still be used as "younger sibling" but my works outside of this will begin to use kih'vod.

Up next: Cody's, Rex's, Fives', Echo's, and Tup's brand of chaos meets the Koon's brand of chaos during a basketball game. Coming eventually!

[abundanceofsoph]

SkyFire 1: Chapter 21

On the Road Again cont. & Rascal Flatts: August 2015

Word count: 3.3k

SkyFire 1 MASTERLIST

>Instagram posts

As August began, the band found themselves back in New York. Following a show in Pittsburgh they arrived in the morning, the day before they were scheduled to appear on Good Morning America for the shows Summer Concert series and since it was scheduled to be filmed in Central Park, a mere stones throw away from Avengers Tower, it made sense for them to stay there instead of booking hotel suites for all of them.

Tony and Steve were glad to have Rori home, if only for two days, having missed her while she travelled with the band for the last 2 months and she’d missed them too, of course, happy to be home briefly before continuing on with the tour for another month. That evening they all crowded into the living room in the penthouse with Sam, Bucky and Thor joining the Stark-Rogers family and the band. They watched a movie, Aurora curled up against Tony, his arm wrapped around her shoulder. She fell asleep at some point, waking up when Louis started throwing popcorn at her, causing Niall to laugh hysterically. They didn’t stay up too late, aware of how early they would need to be up the following morning.

They sky was still dark when they woke the next morning and the sun was still hidden behind the city skyline, barely lighting the sky as they left the tower and walked across the road towards the southwest corner of Central Park. They were joined by the bands security team as they made their way up West Drive and across Sheep Meadow to reach the Summer Stage in Rumsey Playfield. Despite the pre-dawn hour, fans were already camped out across the park, having slept out overnight to ensure their spots for the concert and the five of them dashed towards the backstage tents behind the stage, avoiding drawing the attention of the fans in the soft morning light.

Finally, the sun rose into the sky, warming the summer morning and Aurora grinned with pride as they boys sat on the stage in front of all their fans, talking about the upcoming album, the rest of the tour and Louis’ exciting baby news. By the time the interview concluded, and the boys prepared for the first song, the morning was already warming up and Aurora removed her jacket, revealing her sundress and her most recent tattoo, a rose nestled between her shoulder blades, the stem tracing down her spine. She lifted her hands into the air, joining the fans surrounding her, cheering as the boys stepped back out on the stage and started the performance.

By the time the last song came to an end, Aurora made her way out of the crowd and towards the backstage tent, throwing her arms around Harry once he made his way of the stage.

xXx

After leaving New York, the tour stopped in Rutherford and Baltimore before taking 9 days off and while Niall, Liam and Louis used the time to fly home and see family briefly, Harry and Aurora headed for the coast to spend a few days on the beach.

Aurora barely wasted a moment to drop her bags inside the little beachfront cottage that they’d rented before she was out the door and heading down to the warm sand. Harry joined her a few moments later, wrapping his arms around her stomach as he came up behind where she was standing, her eyes closed and face turned towards the water, soaking up the afternoon sunlight, their toes digging into the sand below them.

They spent the next few days swimming in the ocean, reading or watching movies in the evenings and revelling in the opportunity to spend time alone together with nowhere to be or no one demanding their attention for one thing or another. On their last evening they were curled up on the porch swing, looking out over the moonlit waves, a blanket thrown over their laps to ward off the cool breeze blowing up off the ocean. Harry had a glass of wine in one hand, his other resting around Aurora’s shoulders as her head lay on his shoulder.

“So, there’s something I need to tell you before we get back to the tour,” Harry said, breaking the comfortable silence that had stretched around them in the summer night. “Something the boys and I have been talking about for a while now.”

“Should I be worried?” Rori asked, lifting her head up to look into his eyes.

“No,” Harry promised, “but we’ve decided to take a break. We’re going to go on a hiatus for a year or two.”

“What?” Aurora asked, surprised by the news, having had no idea that it was even an idea before now. “But things have been going so well. Why?”

“We’re all exhausted,” he explained. “None of us have gotten the chance to see our families or live our lives for more than a few weeks at a time in years. We’re in our early 20s and we’ve been working non-stop for the last 5 years. Zayn leaving just made us realise that this isn’t healthy for any of us and we decided we should take a year or two off now before any of us burn out. I don’t want any of them to leave like he did, I can’t do that again. If we all take a break now, we can make sure that doesn’t happen. I just hope the fans don’t hate us for it.”

“Oh Harry,” Rori sighed, wrapping her arms around her boyfriend and pulling him tightly against her. “They’ll be upset but they’ll support you guys no matter what happens. So will I.”

“I love you Rori,” he whispered. “Don’t know what I’d do without you in my life.”

“Good thing you’ll never have to find out,” she replied, smiling warmly up at the man she loved before kissing him. “When are you going to announce it?” she asked softly when they pulled apart.

“In a few weeks.”

xXx

Aurora and Harry flew into Columbus, Ohio the day before the band was scheduled to perform there, and while Harry headed for the stadium for rehearsals and interviews, Aurora took a cab to a local music studio.

She was nervous as she climbed out of the cab, adjusting the hem of her shirt as she made her way through the front doors and gave her name to the receptionist behind the front desk. She was buzzed through the doors to the right and instructed to take the first right and then the third door on the left. Aurora knocked as she opened the door and stepped into the control room, the large window in one wall looking into a spacious live room, instruments and microphones already set up and waiting. There were 3 men sitting in the control room, who all stood when she entered, stepping forward to introduce themselves. Gary, Jay and Joe were all lovely guys, and Aurora was a little star struck at first, having been fans of Rascal Flatts for years, but after spending most of the day chatting and getting to know each other she quickly got over that and was able to look forward to working alongside them for the 2 weeks without the overwhelming anxiety.

The following night Aurora watched the boys from the side of stage and once they left the stadium, she spent the evening wrapped up in Harry’s arms back at the hotel.

“So, Toronto, Chicago, Milwaukee and then you’re back with me,” Rori mumbled in the darkness.

“You’ll be so busy writing number 1 hits that you won’t have time to miss me,” Harry chuckled, trying to brighten his girlfriend’s mood.

“I know it’s silly,” she said. “It’s only 2 weeks but I’m so used to sleeping next to you every night.”

“It’s not silly, love,” Harry promised. “I feel the same, and I really wish we were gonna be together when the hiatus announcement drops.”

“You’ll have the boys with you. You’ll be ok. Just remember the fans love you guys so much. They could never hate you.”

“It’s gonna break their hearts though,” Harry mumbled. “Hate the thought of hurting them after they’ve given me my dreams.”

“And that’s why I love you.”

xXx

For the entirety of the two weeks Harry was gone, Aurora spent almost every moment she could in the studio with Gary, Joe and Jay, revelling in the opportunity to spend uninterrupted time writing and playing. She’d never set aside so much time to write music, usually spending an afternoon here or there, or scribbling lyrics in the back of notebooks while she studied, and she loved every minute of it.

“Ok I’ve got half of something,” Rori said one morning after they’d piled into the studio. “Just a half assed melody and a verse and chorus I came up with last night.”

“Alright well let’s hear it,” Joe said.

Aurora flipped open her notebook to the page she scribbled on the previous night and began to sing what she had, humming when she didn’t have the words to fill the gap.

I know we're running … usually two different ways But we need more than just a quick kiss and a wave goodbye I need you and only you by my side Why don't we turn off the phones, get somewhere alone? I'll trace that smile on your face, 'til the stars fade away Baby, cut off the lights, let our hands talk tonight There's things that need to be said, …. Got good love to be made, take as long as it takes One touch at a time, let our hands talk tonight

Joe picked up his guitar when she finished singing and started to put together the melody, asking her to re-sing certain sections, and then Jay was joining in with the bass line and Gary started piecing together another verse. They spent a few says working on the song until they’d finished Hands Talk and moved on to work on something else.

They played most of Yours If You Want It to Aurora towards the end of the first week and she made some suggestions to the unfinished song, writing a section to slip into the song about 2/3rds of the way through.

Every dollar, every dime, every drop of rain                                                   Every single thing I could beg, steal, or borrow Every yesterday and tomorrow Well every grain of sand on the beach Every blade of grass under our feet Baby your name is written on it And it's yours if you want it

“I love it,” Gary said, singing it through a few times for smiling widely. “Inviting you down here was the best idea we’ve ever had.”

The second week of Aurora’s stay in Columbia, she and Gary put their heads together and wrote Are You Happy Now over the course of a few days and after Gary sang the song through with Joe and Jay accompanying him on the guitar and bass, and Aurora playing the piano, all four of them were grinning from ear to ear with excitement.

“This one’s good,” Jay said.

“Let’s go through once more I want to try something,” Aurora said, already starting to play the opening keys of the song. The guys laughed at her eagerness but joined in quickly and when they reached the bridge and the third chorus, Aurora joined in on the vocals with Gary.

“Now that I'm not around,” Gary sang with Aurora echoing the line. “Now that you've finally,” Gary began, Aurora joining him on the second half of the line, “lost what you thought that you needed, never would have treated your heart, like you did. What goes around comes back around.” “It's been that way forever,” Gary continued. “Baby, just look at you now,” they sang together, Gary dropping out to let Aurora finish the line alone, “barely holding it together.” they alternated the next four lines seamlessly, Gary singing first and then Aurora.

“We're so in love.”

“but you gave that up.”

“Just look around.” “Just look around.”

And then they sang the last chorus together, occasionally alternating lines, dipping in and out of the lyrics, watching each other to read which lines to take and which to leave for the other.

“Oh wow,” Jay said when they finished the song. “That was incredible.”

Aurora smiled, blushing as all three men gushed about how great hers and Gary’s voices had blended together.

“This going to have to be a duet,” Gary said, before sitting down with the lyrics and working out where to split the song between the two of them. In the end, Gary took the first verse and Aurora took the second, while they sang the chorus’s together, layering their voices together as the song built toward the final chorus, following the same arrangement they’d sang the first time round and then Aurora played out the final few notes on the piano. After practicing the arrangement a few times, they called it a day and agreed that when they came in the next day they would get in the technician to record the song in full since Aurora only had 2 more days left to work with the boys before she had to drive the 2 hours up to Cleveland to meet back up with Harry and the tour.

They spent every minute of those two days recording the track, Aurora not only laying down her vocals but also playing the piano on the track. An hour before she needed to be on the road, they were all crowded into the control room to listen to the finished song, no one making a sound as it played.

Aurora was grinning from ear to ear when the song faded out to silence, immensely proud of the song and all the work they’d put into it over the last week.

“Thank you so much for this opportunity guys,” she said, turning to look at each of them.

“We should be thanking you,” Joe laughed. “We’re the ones that have 3 incredible tracks for the next album thanks to you. I don’t think we’ve ever had such a productive two weeks in our lives.”

“Me either,” Rori agreed. “But honestly I just had so much fun, so thank you for inviting me down here.”

“You’re welcome, Rori,” Gary said. “There’s actually something we wanted to ask you before you leave. We usually perform at the CMAs in November and me and the boys were talking last night. We were wondering if you’d want to come down and debut Happy Now with us?”

“You want me to sing at the Country Music awards with you?” Aurora asked, shock clear on her face and in her voice causing all three men to chuckle.

“We do,” Jay replied. “The songs bloody great. You in?”

“Absolutely!” Aurora cheered, grinning broadly, all three men hugging her tightly before she said her goodbyes and climbed into the cab waiting for her outside.

xXx

Unlike the previous year when Harry had gone to New York with her at the end of her time on tour, this year she stood in the departures lounge of the Buffalo airport watching as Harry walked away from her to board a flight to Montreal. She tried to hold back the tears threatening to spill from her eyes, knowing that she would see him in November for the CMAs. She held it together right up until he turned around to wave goodbye one last time and the sad expression on his face pushed her over the edge, breaking the dam and sending the tears dripping over her cheeks. The moment Harry saw them, he dropped his bag and run back towards her, causing Niall to pause where he had been walking beside him.

Harry swept Aurora up in his arms, gripping her tightly as her breath stuttered. She tried desperately to pull herself together, knowing that her reaction would only hurt the man she loved, making it more difficult for him to get on the plane that would take him away from her.

“9 weeks,” Harry whispered. “9 weeks and I’ll be back.”

“I know,” Rori replied, her face still buried in his shoulder. “I love you.”

“I love you too. God, I don’t want to get on that plane,” Harry said. “I want to stay here with you and never leave again.”

“You’d be bored,” Rori joked, pulling back from the hug and pecking his lips one last time.

“Never. This hiatus can’t start soon enough,” he sighed.

“You have to go,” Rori urged, pushing him away gently, noticing Niall still waiting by the gate. “Call me when you land.”

Harry pulled her in for one last desperate kiss before turning and walking back to Niall. He didn’t turn back this time and Aurora held her breath until he disappeared from view. As soon as he was gone, she let the sobs break through her chest, slowly walking through the terminal towards her own gate. She waited in the private lounge until her flight was ready and then made her way on board, settling into her first class seat. She put on her headphones and shuffled Four, a soft smile ghosting over her lips as she listened to Harry’s voice, leaning her head back against the seat with her eyes shut as the plane began to taxi down the runway. She let herself wallow in her sadness, knowing that she would need to put it aside when she reached home in about 2 hours’ time. Leaving Harry was never easy, and she hated the months they spent apart but at the same time she had desperately missed her family and was anxious to see them again. She was also excited to start back at school the following week, eager to begin her final year of college, knowing that once she graduated she would be free to travel the world with Harry and very little would keep them apart now that the band was going on Hiatus for the next year and a half.

xXx

A few days after she returned home, Tony and Steve were scheduled to appear on the Late Show for the first night with the new host Stephen Colbert, and since she didn’t have any classes the day they were needed at the Ed Sullivan Theatre, Aurora decided to join them for the day. Having appeared on the Late Show a couple of times when it was hosted by Letterman, Aurora somewhat knew her way around the theatre, although it was interesting to see the subtle changes that had been made for the shows soft reboot with a new host. She’d watched Tony and Steve’s interview from the green room, smiling softly at Steve awkwardness and Tony’s absolute calm in front of the cameras and the audience. Colbert asked them about the team, about leading them together and of course he asked about their relationship. Tony took the lead with most of the answers but when they were asked what it was like having your husband next to you in a fire fight, it was Steve that answered first.

“It’s the best and worst part of the job,” he answered, his arm slung over Tony’s shoulder. “Fantastic because there’s no one I’d trust to have my back more than Tony, but it’s also completely terrifying because if he goes down, I know I’m out of the fight too because I’m going straight for him and getting him out of there.”

They answered more questions about Avenging before being asked about family life.

“Never planned on being a dad,” Tony said. “But Rori’s such an incredible woman and she’s made both of our lives so much better in the last 4 years. Can’t imagine not being a dad anymore.”

“And Steve,” Colbert asked, “what’s it like being a stepdad?”

“Like Tony said,” Steve replied, “Aurora’s so incredible and being her dad is probably the best thing I’ve ever done with my life. I’m very lucky to have her as my daughter. As our daughter.”

NEXT CHAPTER

OR CONTINUE READING ON AO3

[sugar-petals]

Fuckin’ Wembley (m)

➝ you take care of a pliant, blindfolded yoongi before bts’ concert in london. 

⌈pairing › yoongi x reader ⌈words › 1,555 — one shot ⌈a/n › for yoongi’s birthday ♡

⚠️ warnings › smut/fluff, handjobs, guided masturbation, finger sucking, mommy kink, clothed female naked male, sensory deprivation, sub!yoongi, dom!reader, aftercare

Yoongi feels still under your touch. He savors it. 

Trembling. 

Peeling off his black shirt proves to be a bit difficult because you don’t want his earrings to entangle with it. Tugging and stretching the hemline a little, you manage to leave his hair fairly untouched. It’s kind of spritzed and sprayed and textured already. A hurried member of staff came to the table and messed with it before breakfast. He’s performing later. 

The stylists sent you jaded, almost rabid glances when he arrived all disheveled and marked head to toe last time you had been fucking two hours before a concert in Macau. Looking at his collar bones now, not a trace is left. Smooth, supple skin. Staff’s lucky today. Maybe.

You shift closer.

“What are we in the mood for? Sleepyhead.” 

“Hey... I slept less than on the flight.”

That’s true. Two hours, in fact. 

He’s well-rested either way. No bags under his eyes.

You nibble at Yoongi’s neck, shirt plopping down on the carpet. Delightful. Perky little nipples. Goosebumps. 

You like what you see. 

“Am taking care of you today if you wanna.”

He’s leaning against the headboard of the bed, jaw loose and eyes closed, in his boxers and crumpled Kumamon socks. It’s the last bit of relaxation he can get. 

A little nod follows. He caresses at your hip. 

“How much time?” you ask.

“Got rehearsal at 1:30.”

Something to keep in mind.

“Certainly watching that one.”

“You said you’d choke me out after the gig.”

His tone is frivolous. You’ve been texting him about it since Los Angeles.

“Hm, I did. Probably here again.”

“Love that.”

You pull off his neck with a twinkle in your eye, perhaps intended, perhaps not. The blue towel folded at the end of the bed is already waiting to be used.

“So this is just warm-up.”

Before you ruin him completely. Your sweet cherished little one. But that he already knows.

Mounting his lap with your jeans still on, it’s easy to feel Yoongi not having had a clear mind during breakfast while you teased him— under the table. Rock harder he couldn’t be. You squeeze his dick on purpose by means of letting your weight sink down on him slightly.

“Ouch…”

“My favorite thing for you to say.”

More squeezing. Yoongi grits his buck teeth. He’s kinda adorable this way. 

You decide to pick up your phone from the nightstand.

“Need a pic, Min Yoongi. Hold pose.”

“Mh.”

Click.

Perfect capture. The phone goes back. You muster him, now that he’s all cornered. Pinch his nipples. Tickle his belly.

“You like how I tease.”

It soothes his trembles. And yet, you can still see how nervous Yoongi looks at the watch on the wall. There are still over a dozen hours left before the fans even enter the stadium. You pull off your charmeuse scarf and pray that the ever-irate hair stylist forgives you. But anything to distract your boyfriend does the job.

“Blindfold?”

“Yes.”

Yoongi reclines even further against the wall. Finally, smoother. At least a bit more, his breath normalizing. 

A small surprise twitch jolts through his body once you pick up a lubricant bottle from underneath the bed and squirt a frugal amount into his half-open palm. He can tell by the scent what it is, however. 

After reaching down to store the bottle where it came from, you guide his hand down into his boxers gently, holding him by the wrist. More nipple pinches with your free fingers. 

Soon enough, he firmly jerks at his erection without missing a stroke, like a beat. Yoongi moves so much more fluidly with the blindfold on. Pulling down the elastic of the trunks reveals to you the red little peak of his cock, with a small pearl on top. Cute as hell. 

It’s fun to pick up the bead of pre-cum with your thumb and sliding it between his lips. Either respond almost instantly with sucking, lush and wet. Yoongi loves to lick your thumb. So you leave it hooked in his mouth. 

Ogling his neck makes you look forward to the late night romp that’s all planned out in your mind already after BTS went Wembley on the second day. Perfect for some more marks to upset just about nobody tomorrow because Yoongi is allowed to rest at last. With you. In this very hotel.

“Grab a little harder.”

Your order translates directly to his right, pumping and stroking away with a more severe grip. Only the pace is missing. So you guide his wrist up and down to increase friction, making Yoongi’s tongue all incoherent on your thumb. More jerking, more precum. His little muffles are desperate. You don’t let go of his wrist just yet. You keep him on track. His mouth is hot and sloppy like the spread-out lube on his shaft. 

The mattress of the hotel bed is not so much squeaking now, but very well bounces underneath the two of you. It’s hard not to shove your jeans off right away and ravage him. Waiting is rough. However, his pumping hand is rougher under your lead. So much, his docile moans become frenzied, his neck veins so much more prominent at either side.

“Be my sweet boy, cum for mommy,” you coo. “I’m only letting you on that stage when you’re all empty.”

Pinkish and under heavy grates, Yoongi’s cock won’t take too long to respond to yet another teasing motion of yours pinching at his little ears. You love how sensitive they are. Rubbing a little at the lobes and the other parts not covered by the blindfold: Good fun. Without the thumb in his mouth, his drool is very much left to its own devices. Yoongi still tries to keep up with his palm chafing furiously, down until the base, and up again so relentless that it makes it hard for him to speak.

“Hurts, hurts—”

“My boy. Add the other hand, quick.”

He obeys. You let go of his ears and lean right in to lick his lips clean. Slipping into his mouth with your tongue isn’t as easy given how much the mattress vibrates and his body shakes, so you grab Yoongi by the jaw to hold him still. You pin him hard against the headboard. Merging your tongues completely, Yoongi arches with jittery hands around his dick.

The messy spill on his stomach comes dripping down as fast as it shot out in little strands. Almost clear fluid, just a little whitened. Quitting the drug that is his mouth leaves you high and dry more than ever, but wet spots of saliva on your jeans. Gladly— not lube. He’s not been that wild with his little yanks and jerks today. Maybe you will make him, soon. 

You untie the blindfold with care and swing the scarf back around your own neck. It’s nice, light, and a tad warm. Cozy like Yoongi. You will wear it during the rehearsals. And backstage. And during the concert. He’ll always see it.

Yoongi collapses at your chest with slicked up hands hanging down at either side of his torso. Seemingly, with each last bit of tension pulling like threads on his every limb completely dissipating. The strings are cut. 

“Did I do well... mommy?”

“You did.”

“The sheets—”

He gazes around.

“Nothing really stained. You have better aim without seeing. Only, um.”

You point to his spit on your jeans.

Yoongi smiles his little gummy smile in reply. Embarrassed. He does remember Macau.

“Gosh, sorry for shaking…”

“Energy comes back in a minute. Jus’ lay back.” 

You help Yoongi accommodate on the bed, unscrew the water bottle next to your phone. He takes huge sips. Within a few swipes, you remove the pooling semen from his belly with the blue towel, among the drool around his chin. Yoongi’s a sloppy baby. That’s what you love him for.

Double-checking the back of his head for hair out of place is rendered useless now that the sheets pretty much swallow him again as if for another nap, with you pulling off his boxers completely. You glide off the edge of the bed content, take another look at the risqué picture you had taken, and head toward the wardrobe in the same room to browse through the available items. You find two rather scruffy grey bathrobes, another towel. And some more casual street wear— a sweater of yours to lend, just as black as his discarded shirt. Tight ripped jeans, light white sneakers.

“Enjoy this here, little one? For your rehearsals.”

Yoongi hums in reply with one eye open, peeling his beloved socks off by using his toes. He already knows that he can’t lie down for too long. The wake of the concert, the clock, his own bleeping phone with the group chat getting active. All reminders. But he doesn’t seem as antsy as before. That’s a good sign.

From your suitcase, you grab a petite shampoo bottle and comb, some conditioner, both hibiscus-scented. Tamper with your own clothes, pick a matching color. Compare. Alright.

“We’ll be taking a nice Wembley shower. Come. I’ll take your earrings off.”

Yoongi, dainty knowing smile, wriggles himself out of the pillows. The stylists will have to put up with freshly blow-dried hair and a bit less of a ‘texture’.

© 2017-2019 submissive-bangtan. All rights reserved. Do not repost, translate, or modify.

Thank you for reading!

@seesaws-wife @re-sugance @mint-tea-only @mintyy-yoons @never-mind-singularity @yoongismykink @sugarcookiesandsins @suga-swaeg @honeysyubb @honey-boyyoongi @eshika0102 @submissivekpop @bendovabangtan @siedhr @softyoongiionly @galaxy-min-yoongi @cupsofsuga @anpansuga @syubcandy @pinkypie-sadness @softie-yoongi

[fawsldaily]

'Same sport, different game' has long been the unofficial tagline of women's football. But as it continues to grow and in doing so moves closer in proximity to men's football it is inevitable that some distinctions between the two sides of the sport will begin to blur. 

The question of how the women's game can ensure the preservation of its elements worth holding on to, whilst simultaneously needing to attract fans outside of its bubble, is one which it has been asking itself for some time now. There is no simple answer, as demonstrated when those with the task of balancing the scales openly admit they are not sure of the best approach to take.  

For the sake of its prosperity the women's game must tap into an audience which is more accustomed to the starkly contrasting culture of men's football; something so established and ingrained it permeates through to the very society we live in as society itself filters the other way. The nearer the women's game is positioned to something so influential the more likely its norms will change as a result, but there is still opportunity to control to what degree its customs are altered. If managed correctly it should one day be possible to look back and see a positive evolution as opposed to the loss of better days. There is, however, little time to decide how the game intends to achieve the former if events of Manchester United vs Liverpool on Saturday afternoon are anything to go by. 

Many things were said about Manchester United's vocal fan base in the days before they hosted Liverpool in Leigh. Many more things have been said in the aftermath. 

The commentary during the opening minutes of the match was dominated with talk of the club's ‘Barmy Army’ fan group. It echoed the positive sentiments of a BBC article published the day before detailing the group's origin, their song book and growing attendances. A particularly audible chant during the eighth minute prompted the commentator to again commend the group and their efforts creating an atmosphere. He was seemingly completely unaware that they had in fact just finishing singing about the visiting fans being so poor they resort to eating rats.

The chant in question was that of Park Ji-sung; once a player for Manchester United's men's team. Seven years after departing the club his chant was sung at a women's team match, all due to its punchline about Scousers and poverty. It is, therefore, the perfect example of the two most likely things to be brought into the stands on the back of importing too much of a fan base from the men's game and too soon - those two being, things which are unrelated to the women's game and things which should not be present in either. Park Ji-sung's irrelevancy to a Women's Super League match is not negated just because the final line of the chant referenced the opposition, and the nature of that reference ought to mean the chant be considered unwelcome at any match at all. It is hard for Barmy Army members to justify singing this particular chant on them not yet having material more suited to the women's team when they pride themselves so much on the existence of their women's team centred song book.

The point that new fans won't initially know the inner workings of a women's football crowd is a valid one, however. It has to be expected that their contribution will likely be what they do know, which is men's football. Often perceived to be the default in any case. A common argument being made in reaction to events at Leigh this weekend by those on the outside looking in has been that if women's football wishes to be treated equally it must be prepared to have the same elements as the men's game - warts and all. Many comments read like they had been left by people resigned to accepting that abuse is part and parcel now and you can't have football without it. It is easy to understand why somebody would resign themselves to that when also in amongst the reaction were comments from others carrying the disturbing notion that the sort of chants from the Manchester United fans are not even warts but are in fact enhancing a match day experience. Mocking destitution and death (as referenced in their chant related to the Hillsborough Disaster) is not an enhancer of anything. 

It is difficult to find fault in the principle behind the argument that women's football must adopt things from men's football, when it is an argument being made in the general sense. But when made in the context of fan base attitudes and behaviours, it does not in fact need to adopt what are warts. It is impossible to convince fans not to cross a line or to come back on the correct side of a line when they do not acknowledge the existence of one. It is critical therefore that the women’s game establish exactly where the line is as early as possible.

Preventing the adoption of the worst elements of men’s football will require a robust, zero tolerance approach with input from all sides. Including the existing fan base who must play a role and be prepared to police both themselves and new arrivals. It is likely not a coincidence that the one set of fans failing to read the room, or outright ignoring it, happen to also be the set with no grounding in women's football culture because their team is only just over a year old. Whilst it is not possible to force new match goers to adapt to the differences of a women's match, a club stands a much greater chance of their fan base growing into a positive asset if new match goers can at least enter a ground and see women's football culture on display. Recognising and then taking on board the differences will largely be an education achieved through good example. 

It is a shame then that the FA spent so many years catering to children and families rather than to the young adult and adult demographic who have been responsible for setting the crowd tone to date, and so are therefore the subsection who would be most likely to successfully set that necessary example moving forward. Had more of this type of fan been targetted earlier and more assistance been given for the establishment of fan groups then perhaps there would be enough of a vocal presence at matches to offset the introduction of anybody wired to make distasteful contributions.

It would be a continued shame if that demographic were now overlooked for a second time in favour of bussing in 'ready made' fans from men's matches, when it is the case that had this demographic instead been the target audience they could by now have developed into exactly what those bussed in fans will be, but crucially minus the problematic tendencies. The ‘source from elsewhere’ approach may shortcut to higher attendances, but, just as targetting children now so there is a fan for tomorrow came at the expense of building up the fan of today, an influx of fans too contrasting with the present will come at the expense of having a desirable culture in the future.

The young adult and adult demographic who have been part of the league are also key to establishing rivalry. The more seasoned the fan and the older they are the more able they are to recount previous meetings between their team and another. One argument made for bringing in fans from outside of the bubble is that it is a step towards lively atmospheres with needle, but the fact that we so often highlight the times such an atmosphere is present proves the women's game does in fact already have the ability to create such thing - the issue is that it isn't created often enough. This is not because there is something wrong with the current fans and their methods, it is because there isn't yet enough narrative and history which are two things vital to cultivating a partisan crowd. 

The Women's Super League is only nine years old. It has also been through multiple restructures and re-licencings at the same time clubs and squads have been becoming unrecognisable from one season to the next, meaning you can divide those nine years into three or four completely different and practically unrelated eras. Going back further than a season or two takes you into a time of little relevancy to what is happening on the pitch nowadays. It is an unfair and unrealistic expectation that fans regularly create an atmosphere to rival those seen in men's football when those men's football fans are often doing so with a lifetime of meaningful past meetings to reflect on. 

Of the eight founding Women's Super League clubs, only one fixture between them could really be considered a local derby but for the first two years it did not feel like one. Only in 2013, once some of Everton's better players had 'crossed the park' to join Liverpool who had finally become competitive and the power started to swing to the red half of the city, did the Merseyside Derby have the fitting significance. Almost 1500 fans travelled to Widnes on a freezing cold March night despite inches of snow on the ground to watch a Continental Cup match. The atmosphere whenever they faced each other during that period was exactly what is required and requested. Two seasons after the derby found its feet Everton were then playing in the second division and little of the Liverpool team which leapfrogged them into being best in the city remained, causing the few meetings between the sides in the years since to not manage to spark anywhere near the same level of passion in a crowd.

If we are affording ourselves time to grow the size crowds then we must also afford the crowd time to develop an identity, practices, stories and traditions. Such things can not be manufactured or come as a byproduct of transferring fans from men's stadiums because context is what makes the occasion.

Much is said about women's football being reluctant to the culture of the game changing with the introduction of new approaches but the fans being accused of having this attitude are the same fans wishing others would join in with their singing and bemoaning when an attendance is down from the week before. They are ones doing the utmost to create an atmosphere. The are the ones most open to changes which would benefit that goal. Their perfectly reasonable hope that change come with the respected condition that lines not yet crossed remain uncrossed should not be confused with a reluctance to welcome new people. Because to confuse the two will leave the door open for new people to cross the line and justify doing so on it being unreasonable to ask that they don't.

[hoopdiddies]

I'm Not Over You //Ben Hardy x Reader (Part 1)

Summary: You had always loved Ben ever since the two of you met at university and became the best of friends. That feeling went out like a candle flame when the two of you parted ways until he re-entered your life...but this time with someone who has already occupied his heart.

Warnings: A good dose of fluff and a whole gallon of angst. (eehhh probably a some bad writing) This entire series is a slow burn...a freaking slow burn.

word count: 2.5k+

(Edited)

Laid out on the duvet of your bed is a black shirt with a clear, white, bold print on the front that says "Prettier Than You". You give it one more glance before cackling to yourself, thinking of Ben's reaction the second you give it to him as his birthday present.

"This is ridiculous." You mumble amusingly, folding the shirt neatly and eventually tucking it into a box which you are going to wrap up nicely. You feel as if Ben is going to question your ability to pick out a present once he unwraps the gift. You were never one to pick out expensive presents for him or your friends and of course, there were times you felt insecure about the items. In contrast to the pricey objects he gets for his birthdays from his celebrity friends, yours was a lot simpler.

It even is now.

I mean, a shirt? You scoff at yourself.

That's the best you could do for his 28th? You had your doubts and nearly decided to skip out on his party all because you couldn't afford a Rolex or a yacht. But the simplest things from you mattered greatly to Ben. He actually admired the shirt a day prior, before putting it back instead of buying it. And so you had to take the instinct and buy it for him.

Last year you got him tickets to a rugby game and even so, he lost his mind knowing you did...in a good way of course.

It made your heart flutter when he had shown up too early at the doorway on game day in a beanie all hyped up and flashing a full megawatt grin, just ready to drag you on full speed to the stadium. Ben had always loved rugby, he had always gushed about it fondly to you, ever since the two of you went to the same school and even until now.

You parted ways after graduation merely because of your jobs and surprisingly enough, you both came across each other once more the night you almost ran him over– which admittedly was the most awkward night of your existence. Since then, your friendship rekindled and you two became inseparable from then on.

The memory prompts a smile to ghost upon your lips, boosting your confidence to a good amount.

His smile.

How you love him.

And the intangible words in your head lower your spirits for a split second. You'd be fooling yourself if you think you'd ever have a solid chance with Ben when someone else had already taken that slot. Well you have been in some past relationships but they never worked out that well with how unruly the chemistry was, Ben's just different.

You snap out of your reverie and roll off the bed to get ready. You glance at the wall clock and realize you only have half an hour left before Joe arrives. With one last, tired look at your present, you start zipping around to get prepared.

You pull your hair up in a tight ponytail and scan yourself in the mirror. Nothing like a good sweater with dark jeans and back Converse to match. You've also touched up with a decent amount of makeup to hide the fruit of your labors; your eye bags.

It's a cold evening out and you wouldn't risk your health for a party.

"FBI! Open up!"

"For heaven's sake, Joe! It's unlocked!"

On the way of leaping to attend to the door, you trip over your own leg, blessed to have your arm break your fall. You groan in pain as you sprawl on the hardwood for a couple of seconds and the door swings open, revealing Joe in a leather jacket inlaid with a white shirt.

By the time his eyes find yours, he takes a sharp breath in to hold back a fit of laughter as he reaches his hand out for you to grab. "You always fall for the wrong people." He comments, trying to stifle a grin that is threatening to form.

You smile sarcastically and pull yourself up, dusting your knees afterwards. "You're such a gentleman."

"Haha. Are you ready to go? Benny boy's dying to have us there."

You turn around and walk to the couch where your wrapped-up present is seated. The most basic of presents. You give it a narrow once-over prior to picking it up, hoping it'll be good enough for Ben. It's getting difficult to purchase decent gifts these days.

"What do you have there?" Joe questions, taking light steps towards you. You face him without taking your eyes off the box and slowly gaze up at him. "What else. A gift for him."

His brows perk up slightly, sensing the dismay in your voice. "Y/N, he'll love it. He always does." Joe slips a hand onto your shoulder and you nod weakly at him. Joe is the only one in your circle who knows of your inner struggle and seeing you in pieces like this breaks his heart.

And so to brighten a bit of your evening, he briefly admires your appearance. "On a note, you look amazing tonight."

He smiles sincerely at you and you can't help but let out a faint chuckle, hauling him out the door and closing it behind you. "Thanks. We better get going."

He opens the door of the driver's seat for you and you gladly hop in, strapping yourself against the seat with the present tipped on your lap. Joe slips in next to you and starts the ignition, backing up from his parking spot and stepping on it.

The minute Joe parked promptly across the street of Ben's place, you feel your heart beat erratically of what's to come. Although you've seen him with his girl a few hundred times now, the prick of the reality hasn't gone away completely.

It probably never will.

But he's your best friend and his happiness is always your happiness.

It's always been.

After a good minute of zoning out, you snap your head up to Joe who's standing in front of you with his hand out, smirking at how you reacted. "He's waiting." He reminds you as he takes your hand to guide you out of the car.

You clutch your present tight against your side and shake your head, embarrassment crashing over you like a wave. "Damn, I'm sorry."

Joe lets out a mellow chuckle. "You'll be alright, Y/N. Besides, Lucy and Gwilym's there. We'll be okay."

"And Rami? "

Joe shakes his head as the both of you cross the bare street. "He had to be somewhere."

Well you got extra company with Gwilym and Lucy, right?

Several cars are parked just right across where Joe had parked his and the possible number of people present inside makes you uneasy inside. Even when you're barely five feet away from the front door, you can make out funky music blasting from inside. You and Joe swap odd looks before turning the knob and coming in to guests chatting, laughing and drinking.

You tut at the suffocating number of guests but then it's Ben's birthday so why wouldn't he? His place is big enough to accommodate a lot of people however you were never hardwired to enjoy a house party as heavy as this.

You make your way through unfamiliar faces to find your lineup with Joe trailing in closely behind you. "Have you texted Gwil?" You ask him loudly.

"Yeah, he and Luce are out back!"

"But that's a mile away from where we are!"

"Sorry to say we'll have to swim through this mess." Joe scratches his scruff apologetically and you grab hold of his hand, holding Ben's present close as you navigate your way through the sea of people.

You notice a couple of familiar faces, mostly the faces Joe and Ben hang out with. One of them gives you a smile as a greeting and you give him a nod, returning to the mission of finding your people.

You can't seem to find Ben anywhere half way through and so you and Joe decide to just wait for him out back. Joe has texted Ben that you guys have arrived and will wait for him with Gwil and Lucy. You reach the backyard eventually and spot the two having a good laugh by a tree. They notice you two approaching and Lucy doesn't hesitate to squeal and run to pull you into an embrace. "Y/N! You made it!"

You hug her back with your free hand as the other stays preoccupied. "Hey, Luce. Ugh, you wouldn't believe the crowd."

She rolls her eyes playfully at if irritated by the number of people as well. "That's why Gwil and I decided to wait for you two out here."

You approach Gwilym and he hugs you briefly. "Hey you, what do you got there?" He takes notice of the gift and your cheeks heat up in a blush. "It's for Ben. I saw him admire this the other day and he didn't have time to buy it because he was in a rush to get back to filming."

"You're a thoughtful person, Y/N. I hope you remember me like that as well." Gwil chuckles and you shrug happily. "Anything for you guys."

"By the way, where is Ben? We couldn't find him in that ocean of-" Before Joe can even finish his small complaint, a deep voice gushes from behind.

"Guys! You made it!" You all turn around in unison, seeing Ben beaming buoyantly at your presence with...his girlfriend waving sweetly by his side. Who knew it only took three seconds for you to finally opt for a heart transplant.

"Happy Birthday, mate! You're getting old!" Gwilym brings him in for a manly hug and Ben throws his head back a little to laugh. "How dare you." Pulling away from Gwilym's arms, he goes over to Joe and gives him the same hug, then to Lucy and finally, he turns to you.

His smile grows bigger as he outstretches his arms out for you to jump into. With his gift in hand, your legs sprint towards him involuntarily just seconds before you can even mentally command them to do so.

You throw your arms around his neck and he spins you around like he used to, when it was only the two of you against the world. "Happy Birthday, Benny!"

"In all the time we've spent together, you decide to call me that now?" He pulls away slowly and smiles at you, the corner of his eyes crinkling a little. Your giggles are becoming uncontrollable by the minute and you smile proudly. "I like how it just rolls off the tongue."

Unfortunately, that is what his girlfriend calls him and Ben just decided not to address the fact that you unknowingly called him that. You weren't reminded anyway. Seeing Ben become too comfortable holding you, his girlfriend steps in and clears her throat with a greeting. "Hey Y/N! Thank you for stopping by. "

You realize the position you're in and detach yourself from Ben. Joe coughs awkwardly from behind as he is fully aware of the things happening, confusing Gwilym and Lucy who are just minding their own business.

You pull yourself together and smile warmly at Rosy, Ben's girlfriend. You don't have a problem with her, you never had. She seems like a decent lady. Beautiful, good intentions, not coming off as conceited but oftentimes, you just feel as if she and Ben don't synthesize well.

And no, it's not the jealousy.

"Hey. And you're welcome. Just stopped by to drop this for Ben." As if his ears perked up, Ben whips his head at you and you wave the wrapped box in front of him. Rosy's lingering smile shrivels as Ben's eyes light up in wonder like Christmas lights in the middle of unwrapping his present.

As he pulls out the shirt from within, he chucks the box away and gasps in awe. "You," he holds out the shirt still maintaining that genuine beam of appreciation, "didn't have to!" Like a kid who had just received the first thing on his wish list on Christmas morning, he immediately slips it on, determined to flaunt the quality and the sentimentality imbued in it.

Your eyes flicker at the print on the front and giggle amusingly, your heart jittering at how happy and contented he looks. He turns around to Joe, Gwilym and Lucy, shrugging good-naturedly at them. "Yes, Ben. You're pretty. But you overqualified as a woman." Joe comments sarcastically, referring to the time they had to dress up in drag.

"See? Y/N is an exemplar of thoughtfulness. Learn from her, Joe." Ben retorts cheekily, making Joe roll his eyes heavenward playfully.

Lucy holds a thumbs up at Ben, quite impressed and Gwilym shakes his head, too delighted by it. Overwhelmed by the thought put into his gift by you, Ben embraces you once more, only tighter this time, and mumbles happily against your shoulder. "Thank you, Y/N. I really love it."

The smile taking form on your lips cannot be stopped. "Anything for you." You break your hug almost too quickly to prevent Rosy from getting the wrong idea. Ben smiles at you endearingly once more before making his way to Rosy, whom he kisses briefly on the lips.

Ouch.

"Thanks for coming guys. I'll get back to you in a couple of minutes and Y/N..."

You raise your brows at Ben in question.

"I wanna talk to you later about something."

You simply nod and watch him disappear into the house with Rosy around his arm. You stay that way, looking over the back door in utter silence, just before Joe's voice snaps you out of it. "How hard did it hit you this time?"

You turn around quickly and give him a confused look. "What?"

He offers you a drink and purses his lips deliberately. You get the idea and shrug it off. "It was just a kiss. No big deal."

"Yeah, a kiss shared between them and them only."

"Let's just have a drink, Mazzello. I could get drunk and forget this by tomorrow." You swipe the drink from his hand and he chuckles softly, ushering you gently back to Lucy and Gwilym. Of course, however chaste the kiss was it still hit you like a bullet train but what can you do?

You'd seen them share more heated kisses before and they still crushed you like an anvil. The feeling is but the same, and you wonder why you still can't get used to it.

End of Part 1.

I'll be posting part 2 sometime tomorrow uwu

Tags: @mrsmazzello

[namjuicyy]

A Father’s Love - Chapter 10 [FINAL]

Masterlist | Requests are open.

Genre: Angst, fluff, smut.

Genre of this part: Fluff.

Word Count: 1.9k.

Summary: Single father, Namjoon, struggles to keep his idol life and his private life separate. When he meets you, everything changes.

Warnings: None.

ONE YEAR LATER

The American leg. It was their longest stretch of the entire tour, and during the middle of it, Namjoon was visibly losing the will to live. He gave his all onstage, of course he did, but as soon as the curtains had closed he was close to collapsing. More so from emotional exhaustion rather than physical.

Manager Sejin gave you a call, asking if there was any way that you could fly out to him, join them in America and stay with them for as long as you possibly could. You missed your man. It had been an incredibly long time since you'd seen him... in fact, the longest time. Haneul had taken his father's spot on the bed and cuddled up to you and daddy's Koya pillow. Haneul was usually okay with Namjoon leaving. Of course he missed him, but never this much. So, you thought you'd take Sejin's offer up, and organised to surprise Namjoon in the middle of their tour. Because he needed you, and you and Haneul needed him.

Haneul had never travelled overseas before. He had nothing, so, while he was out at playgroup, you went out to the shopping centre to get some things for the trip: a small suitcase for Haneul, plus one of those adorable Ride and Roll carry-on suitcases that you knew Haneul would love. Sure he was a little mature for his age, given that the majority of people he knew were adults, but he absolutely loved everything he should being a child. The suitcases were packed by the time you had to go and pick him up, the tickets had been sent via email, the Visas had been sorted, you were pretty much ready to go. So, after picking Haneul up from playgroup, you took the detour to the airport and surprised him there and then.

He cried at the prospect of being able to see his daddy again. They were happy tears, of course they were, and despite his crying, he was practically running through security, moaning at you because you were going too slow. He didn't want to sit on his Ride and Roll, but it got to the point where he was running through the airport, you had to force him to sit on it just so you knew where he was.

He was a bearable nightmare on the 13 hour flight from Incheon to San Francisco. He was so excited to finally see his dad again, he tried his hardest to stay awake. He was too afraid of falling asleep and missing it all, landing, getting in the car, seeing daddy. He did pass out, however, half way through his lunch to be precise. His head was almost dunking itself into his yogurt. He was so adorable. You took a photo of him before removing the yogurt from the small boy's path so he didn't actually look like someone's pudding.

Landing was smooth, and going through the airport was even smoother given that you both were privately escorted through security so that no one could get at you or your son. Manager Sejin was waiting the other side, taking your bags off you so you could strap a sleeping Haneul into the seat beside you so he could continue sleeping until you got to the venue. Sejin made conversation with you all the way there, telling you about Namjoon's slump and how he just didn't seem to be taking care of himself properly. You found yourself getting angry at him for his unprofessionalism, but you knew exactly how he felt. The only reason you hadn't gone into a slump yourself was because you had Haneul to take care of.

You woke him up just as you entered the venue, getting him to truly wake up before he lost his mind at his father. You made him remain as quiet as possible as you walked backstage, and Haneul took this a little too far, tip toeing as he made his way backstage, to make doubly sure that his dad didn't hear him.

The door to the artist dressing room opened, and you heard the boys laughing. They saw Sejin and started trying to rope him into some scheme they were plotting to bully Taehyung with. "Listen," he said holding his hands up, "what you lot do in your spare time is none of my business. However, Namjoonie, I need you to do me a favour."

"What's up?" Namjoon asked.

"I need you to stand here." He pointed to a spot in the room that made sure Namjoon was in the centre so everyone could see him, but more importantly, he could see the two of you as soon as the door opened wider. Namjoon disappeared from your view and you heard him stop walking, clearly in position. "Close your eyes."

"Oh God. Last time someone told me to do that, Jungkook shoved his ass in my face and farted."

The whole room erupted in laughter, Jungkook's hands clapping violently as he recalled his prank and felt no remorse for it.

"Trust me." Sejin's voice was soft, but firm. Namjoon obviously did as he was told, because when the door opened to reveal you and Haneul, he didn't move. Sejin moved out the way, "open them."

Namjoon's eyes snapped open and immediately focussed on you and then moved to Haneul. He dropped to his knees and opened his arms wide. Haneul didn't waste any time. "Daddy!" He screamed as he toddled towards his father, launching himself into Namjoon's chest and wrapping his tiny arms around Namjoon's torso.

Namjoon groaned at the impact, but didn't mind the slight pain as his son was wrapped up in his arms again. "Oh my baby boy." He breathed. "I missed you so much. Stop, let me look at you." He gently pushed his son off of him so he could hold his chubby cheeks in his large hands and stare at his son, taking in his entire appearance. "Look at you! You got so tall!"

"I am exactly a hundred and one centimetres." Haneul stated proudly. "Mummy checked."

At the mention of you, Namjoon looked up. He'd almost forgotten that you were there. He picked Haneul up and rested him on his hip, and made his way over to you. His free hand cupped your cheek and his lips immediately attached themselves to yours, keeping you locked to him in a very passionate kiss, just screaming how much he missed you.

"Get a fucking room, you two!" Hoseok shouted from across the room.

"Yeah, daddy, get a fucking room." Haneul repeated.

Namjoon broke the kiss immediately to gently scold his son for his poor use of language. You, on the other hand, had to leave the room so that Haneul couldn't see you laughing at his parrot-like behaviour.

You were there for the show that night, and Haneul got to see his daddy perform for the first time. He was completely enthralled by the stage and how the band performed. He couldn't look away, and screamed every single time he saw Namjoon, either on the stage or on the screen.

Their second night in San Francisco ended with Namjoon bring his son on stage for the endingment, because that's what Haneul asked. He wanted to see what his daddy saw, to know what it was like to be on stage with so many people looking at you. So, Namjoon obliged. And fans lost their mind when they saw the spitting image of Namjoon waddling onto the stage, looking incredibly excited to be there. Namjoon gave Haneul the microphone, as he held him on his hip, and asked him if there was anything he wanted to say. Haneul went shy in that moment, which was pretty much unlike him, but every time Namjoon tried to say something meaningful, Haneul took the microphone off him and placed a kiss to his cheek.

You and Haneul joined Bangtan for the rest of the American tour, bringing in a private tutor from Korea to teach Haneul things during the day, making sure he didn't miss out on his schoolwork. And when he wasn't with his tutor, he was with you and Namjoon, running around on the empty stage and screaming as loud as he could to make his voice echo around the stadium.

The boys had a final free day in New York before they were due to head to the next state, so Namjoon decided to make it special for the three of you. He blindfolded you, and made sure the location was a surprise. The summer breeze hit you as soon as you got out the car, and by the sounds of the people in the background and the cars driving passed, you knew you were somewhere really busy. He pushed you by your shoulders, making sure Haneul was following behind you, and kept you steady as you walked onto the dry grass. He stopped you, gently removed your blindfold, and you almost cried at the sight in front of you.

In the centre of Central Park sat a red and white tartan blanket, weighed down by a few picnic baskets and paper plates and disposable cutlery. Namjoon knew you loved intimate moments with people you loved, and he couldn't have made this any more intimate even if he'd tried. Inside the baskets were your favourite foods, there was some pizza, cakes, sweets, snacks, just general items that were easy enough to eat without the need for plates and fine dining.

His tone turned serious after your meal, as you both sat there and watched Haneul play in the dirt not too far away from you. "You know, I owe a lot to you." He began.

"No you don't."

"I do. We do. It's because of you we became happy again. You fixed me... us. When you left the first time, you had every right to, and I was so terrified I'd never see you again. Hannie was, too, you know. Though he didn't necessarily know you'd gone and been gone for long, he knew something wasn't right. He loves you. Perhaps more than I do if that's even possible. We're lucky to have you."

"I'm lucky to have you both. You invited me into your lives happily. You gave me a family when my own family was half the world away. I love you so much. I love you both so much. I don't ever want to imagine my life without you."

"Me either." He was quiet for a second. "Marry me."

"What?"

"Marry me. I knew I was going to spend the rest of my life with you, anyway. You're too amazing to let go. So why not make it official? I'm desperately in love with you, always will be. Marry me."

You didn't even need to think. The word just came out without you realising. "Yes." You saw his face light up and wash with relief. He held you close to him, tighter than he'd ever held you before. His hand went to his pocket and pulled out a box-less ring. Turned out he was going to ask you anyway. The ring, it didn't fit. Of course it wouldn't. He didn't check your size and used Jimin's hands as a guide. So with another hug, he promised you that you'd go together and get it sorted.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw movement. You saw a familiar face with long hair that was let loose around thin shoulders. A face you recognised, laced with some emotion you didn't even want to register. It couldn't be. Was... was that Minji?

[definegirlfriends]

Hello everyone! Hope you all had a wonderful April! This rec is full of some new fics (for me), some old ones ive been meaning to read/re-read, and some new favorites! If you are interested I do have a larger fic rec already on my blog that is in the process of becoming much larger very soon! If you have any fic suggestions please feel free to send me a message! As always, everything will be listen in alphabetical order, under the cut. Happy reading!!

A Whole New World by backonefish (24k) : He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head, imagining the notes he heard earlier are from a residual dream. He opens his eyes, and, nope. The music is still there. Notes of a song he could never forget clear as the confusion in his head. That is to say, they’re really not very clear. The more he strains to comprehend what the fuck is actually going on, the more he understands. Understands that what he’s hearing is piano keys, not a record of a song. Understands that whoever is playing the piano is really not very good at it, hesitance heard before each press of the key. Understands that his fucking neighbour is waking him up at – he fumbles with his phone on his bedside - 7:30 in the morning by playing Aladdin songs on a piano. Badly. Or- Louis has moved into his new apartment to start his new job as a teacher. Things would be great. If only his arsehole neighbour didn't wake him up every morning by playing piano. Shenanigans ensue. Like a very inadvisable kissing bet.

Found My Missing Piece by styleandsin (16k) : “@harrystyles followed you.” “@harrystyles liked your tweet.” “What?” He whispers in astonishment, because there’s no way. But he clicks on Harry’s profile and sure enough, the little grey “follows you” appears by his name. After taking a second to just stare at the screen, he quickly takes a screenshot and sends it to his sister. Lottie is one of the few people who would understand his shock. Niall would certainly just make fun of him for it. Louis and Harry are both fashion bloggers. Louis' been following Harry for years. Harry and his blog really gave him the confidence and the push to make his own. His sister and best friend have been making fun of his silly little crush on him ever since. But that's all it is, a silly, harmless crush because there is no way Harry knows who he is. Or does he?

Have Faith In Me by stylinsoncity (183k) : As the son of Anne Styles, millionaire owner of one of the world's most luxurious fashion labels, Harry has spent his last seventeen years living in carefree extravagance. And now he's grown tired of it, along with the pressure from his mum to follow in her footsteps and the constant care given to him by her past assistants. When his mum's newest assistant, Louis, moves into the guesthouse, Harry determines to be treated differently. To be treated like an adult. Except Louis is not at all what Harry was expecting... This is a story about growing up, growing in love and having the faith to make it last.

Hiding Place by alivingfire (365k) : Louis never wanted a soulmate, didn’t really care for the whole Bonding thing at all, really. Enter Harry Styles, who’s wanted to be Bonded for as long as he could remember. With one fateful meeting in an X Factor bathroom, Louis gets a dagger on his arm and the realization that just because Harry is his soulmate doesn’t mean it’s mutual.From the X Factor house to Madison Square Garden, from the Fountain Studios stage to stadiums across the world, Louis has to learn to love without losing himself completely, because someday his best friend will Bond to someone and replace Louis as the center of his universe. Meanwhile, Harry begins to think that maybe fate doesn’t actually know what it’s doing after all, because his other half has clearly been right in front of him the whole time. All he has to do now is convince Louis to give them a chance. Or, the canon compliant Harry and Louis love story from the very beginning, where the only difference is that the love between them is literally written on their skin, and there’s only so much they can hide.

I Carry Your Heart With Me (I Carry It In My Heart) by thedeathchamber (56k) : Harry thinks he has good reasons for avoiding relationships. Meeting Louis puts those reasons to the test.

Kryptonite by orphan_account (78k) : Harry Styles has enough problems as it is. Dealing with superpowers, teenage strife and his unavoidable awkwardness is hardly easy… But when he moves to the rural town of Smallville, he inherits a new problem: one that’s 5′7″, unbelievably feisty, and by the name of Louis Tomlinson

Seeing Blind by zedi (10k) : Louis finally turns his head in Liam’s direction, knows his face is showing the longing he’s been aching with ever since it took root in his chest. “What the fuck do I do, Liam? He wouldn’t want me like that, but I want-” his voice cracks, and he turns his face back downwards. “What do you do when you’re not perfect for the person who’s perfect for you?” OR the one where Harry’s an independent omega who likes to have his fun and Louis is the blind alpha that changes Harry’s priorities.

Take My Breath Away by RealityBetterThanFiction (153k) : There is a prestigious school in the British Royal Navy classified as Premier Delta - or as it is known by its flyers, 1D. These select pilots are an elite set of Naval lieutenants who are trained in the skill of aggressive aerial combat. They are instruments of war, trained in times of peace. They are dogfighters, relentless and fearless in their mission to protect their beloved country. From their lofty vantage, they are always watching, waiting, and ready to lay it all on the line.Lt. Harry Styles, call sign Sparrow, is a prodigy when it comes to flying. The owner of an unrivaled Naval pedigree, being a pilot was always written in the stars for Harry. With his trusty RIO, Lt. Niall Horan, Harry has made an unprecedented ascension in the ranks of the Naval aerial combat elite, and has been recruited to the esteemed Premier Delta flight school, carrying on his family’s legacy. What he finds there are unexpected friendships, perilous challenges, and something beyond what he ever thought possible. Because as his father had always told him, before the great Captain Styles went tragically missing in combat, you don’t fall in love with the sky, you fall in love with what keeps you on the ground.

Wild Love by purpledaisy (130k) : “Good,” Julia says, clearly pleased to have them both uncomfortable and unable to look at each other. “Now, I only have one more question before you can go. What are you planning to do when this experiment ruins your friendship?”“We said we’d stay friends no matter what,” Harry says smoothly, his chin lifting in defense. “That was our one thing going into it,” Louis agrees. “Stay friends no matter what.”Julia raises a perfectly manicured brow, “That’s all fine and good. But I hope you realize your emotions aren’t going to realize this is an experiment in the end. If one of you falls for the other and finds out those feelings are not reciprocated, you’re not going to be able to laugh it off as a social experiment. I’m not saying you shouldn’t do this, I’m just hoping you’ve considered all of the possible outcomes.” AU: Two best friends try to date each other for forty days. It's supposed to be fun until emotions make it complicated.

7 Up by cherrystreet (51k) : Very loosely based on the British TV show "The Up Series" and somewhat inspired by the song “Something I Need” by Onerepublic, we follow the lives of Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson in an interview setting every seven years. They fall apart and come together, their lives and emotions recorded. Harry calls it a time capsule. Louis calls it a pain in the arse. * Warning does have a MCD tag please read with caution

[junker-town]

The Bucks’ loss in the 2020 NBA Playoffs is a total organizational failure

The Bucks were outclassed by the Heat in every way.

The Milwaukee Bucks’ five-game series loss to the Miami Heat was like watching a car crash in slow motion. The Bucks’ obituary was being written in real time as Miami exposed glaring weaknesses in both their game plan and roster construction, but Milwaukee was either unable or unwilling to hit the brakes until it was too late.

There is no point in sugarcoating it: a second round elimination amounts to a total organizational failure for the Bucks. Blame starts with ownership, trickles down to the basketball decision-makers in the front office, fully encompasses the coaching staff, and finally hits the players. This series can’t be seen as anything but a referendum on each decision that ultimately led to the result.

The reality is that the Bucks were a great team that had an amazing season — that’s why anything less than a trip to the Finals was always going to be catastrophic. Milwaukee was playing at a 70-win pace during the regular season. Giannis Antetokounmpo deserved to win both the MVP and Defensive Player of the Year awards soon to be on his mantle. The Bucks had the league’s best defense, finished No. 8 in offense, and lapped the field in net rating — finishing +3.1 points per game better than the second best team in the NBA.

The Bucks were awesome this year. Unfortunately, to steal a line, it doesn’t mean a thing without the ring. It’s hard to blame Bucks fans if they’re already feeling exhausted by it all.

While Milwaukee’s failure will get all the attention, it’s worth emphasizing that the Heat won this series even more so than Milwaukee lost it. If the Bucks’ loss falls on every level of the organization, the Heat deserve the same widespread credit for their five-game win. It’s not just that the No. 5 seed Heat pulled off the upset — it’s that the series was never even close. There was no doubt Miami was the superior team and superior organization from the opening tip.

Now that it’s over, let’s look back on the all the ways the Bucks failed — and where Miami shined.

Bucks owners made an unforgivable mistake by playing it cheap with Malcolm Brogdon

Malcolm Brodgon was one of Milwaukee’s very few success stories in the NBA draft after Antetokounmpo was already on the roster. Brodgon established himself as one of the team’s best players during his run to the Rookie of the Year award in 2017. As he entered restricted free agency in the summer of 2019, Brogdon was coming off a remarkably efficient season where he joined the exclusive 50/40/90 club and also proved himself to be the Bucks’ top guard in the playoffs.

Milwaukee could have kept Brodgon at the cost of nothing but ownership’s money. Instead, Milwaukee chose to trade him to the Indiana Pacers for their first round draft pick after he had agreed to a four-year, $80 million deal. Ownership didn’t even try to cover it up at the time — Brogdon was let go only because the team didn’t want to pay the luxury tax.

“Was re-signing Malcolm an imperative?” Bucks co-owner Marc Lasry asked in a news conference before the season. “I think re-signing Malcolm was a luxury.

“Our view was that Malcolm is a phenomenal player. But for that amount of money, we thought we could have those dollars better spent elsewhere.

“And we’ll find out.”

Perhaps it’s worth pointing out that the Bucks did spent a lot of money locking up Khris Middleton, Brook Lopez, and Eric Bledsoe, who were all set to hit the open market at the same time as Brogdon. The Bucks still had the second-highest payroll in the NBA and no team finished the season above the luxury tax threshold. There were rumors that Brogdon wanted a larger role that he apparently wasn’t going to find in Milwaukee.

None of that is a legitimate excuse. The Bucks knew they were in for a championship-or-bust season. They know Giannis becomes an unrestricted free agent in the summer of 2021. Ownership should have been doing everything they could to put the best team on the floor, and that went out the window when they decided to play it cheap with Brogdon.

Brogdon was essentially the exact player the Bucks needed against the Heat: an elite spot-up shooter who could also run offense and create for teammates. Brogdon had an excellent year for the Pacers, making a strong push for All-Star consideration as he took on more playmaking duties. Even as the Pacers were swept out of the playoffs by the Heat, Brogdon still averaged 21.5 points and 10 assists per game in the series.

What’s even more insulting is that ownership decided not to pay the luxury tax with a championship contender after they asked Wisconsin tax payers to contribute $250 million to the team’s new stadium. Bucks ownership — led by New York hedge fund managers Wes Edens, Marc Lasry and Jamie Dinan — paid $550 million for a franchise that is now valued at $1.6 billion. They still put half the cost of the new arena on tax payers and just watched one of the team’s best players leave because they were too cheap to pay him.

Hey, Wisconsin taxpayers did their part ‍♂️

— NoTechBen (@NoTechBen) September 5, 2020

Eventually Bucks ownership will sell the team at a massive profit. The tax payers will be left with the burden of a paying off a depreciating asset with the new arena in the years to come. The very least they could have done is re-signed Brogdon to give Giannis the best possible chance at winning a championship. Here’s what Antetokounmpo told The Athletic on Brogdon in November.

“Definitely wish he was still here,” Antetokounmpo said. “One of my friends, one of the guys that I always teased every day when I see him — call him ugly, we’re just going back and forth. I’m going to miss that, but at the end of the day, you got to do what’s best for you. I wish him the best, I wish his team the best and I’m excited to play against him.”

Giannis shouldn’t be framing this as Brogdon’s decision to move on. Brogdon had no control over his future as a restricted free agent. Ownership could have and should have kept him. The coaching staff could have given him the additional creation duties he wanted.

Is Brogdon still a “luxury” for the Bucks after a five-game loss to the Heat? It sure doesn’t feel like it.

Mike Budenholzer’s philosophy on minute-management doesn’t make any sense

There’s a good chance the Bucks-Heat series would still be going on if head coach Mike Budenholzer played his best players more minutes. Think about how infuriating that sentence is for a second.

Coach Bud’s philosophy towards minutes distribution is well known. Antetokounmpo is poised to win MVP again despite finishing No. 71 in minutes per game during the regular season. Giannis actually played more minutes in the All-Star Game than he did during the Bucks’ march to the best record in the NBA. While it could be seen as admirable to protect your best players during the dog days of January and February, Budenholzer’s complete inability to adjust his minute allocations during the postseason is baffling.

Antetokounmpo played 37 minutes in Game 1, 36 minutes in Game 2, and 35 minutes in Game 3 against the Heat — all losses for the Bucks. Co-star Khris Middleton also didn’t crack 37 minutes in a game before the Bucks were down 3-0 in the series. Here’s what Budenholzer said after the Game 3 loss, when he referred to his best players getting 36 minutes as “pushing the ceiling.”

Here is Mike Budenholzer's full response when I asked if he regretted not playing Giannis Antetokounmpo (34:54) or Khris Middleton (36:02) more tonight: pic.twitter.com/qdj5LrltQ9

— Eric Nehm (@eric_nehm) September 5, 2020

It’s worth noting Miami’s best players played similar minutes in the series, but they were also winning the entire time. The better comparison is the team that ended Milwaukee’s season last year, the Toronto Raptors. Head coach Nick Nurse has regularly pushed his stars past the 40-minute mark in his team’s series against the Boston Celtics to battle out of an 0-2 hole to tie the seres.

Budenholzer eventually played Middleton 48 minutes in the Bucks’ Game 4 overtime victory after Giannis hurt his ankle. The Bucks won that game, and they wouldn’t have if Middleton played his customary 36 minutes in regulation. It was simply too late at that point for any real adjustments — the series was already out of hand.

Budenholzer will say that Antetokounmpo played so few minutes because he was going so hard during those minutes. That’s fair, but it’s also true that the regular season should have been used to ramp up for the playoffs. Giannis and Middleton had to learn how to handle 40+ minutes per night at times during the regular season so they were used to it in the playoffs.

The most disappointing thing about this was Budenholzer’s inability to learn from his own mistakes. The exact same scenario played out last season for the Bucks in the Eastern Conference Finals against the Raptors. Middleton only played 36.8 minutes per game in that series, and Antetokounmpo played 38.5. Milwaukee lost four straight games to lose that series after starting out up 2-0.

Budenholzer’s minutes management isn’t the only thing wrong with the Bucks’ coaching decisions — it’s just the tip of the iceberg.

Budenholzer’s lack of tactical adjustments were a killer

It isn’t hard to see why Budenholzer was so obstinate in changing his game plan in the playoffs: his strategies helped make the Bucks the best regular season team in basketball. The Bucks played one style and they played it really well. But as we see in the playoffs every year, the best coaches are the ones who are willing to adjust when things aren’t working. Coach Bud refused to do that until it was too late.

The Bucks built the best defense in the league by putting Brook Lopez in drop coverage against the pick-and-roll all year. Miami was able to exploit it with Jimmy Butler and Goran Dragic hitting pull-up jumpers and floaters away from the rim. The obvious move for the Bucks was to start switching screens to take away the in-between space where the Heat were thriving, but there was only one problem: the Bucks never practiced it during the regular season.

The Bucks being so ill-prepared to adjust their defense showed the most when Lopez wasn’t on the floor. In lineups with Giannis or Marvin Williams at center — more mobile defenders than Lopez — Budenholzer still played drop coverage.

Bucks go small with Giannis but they love to keep him in a drop. Instead of a switch and taking away the roll and making Herro go vs. Giannis, Herro is able to make a routing play. Come off, wait for the defense to help on the roll and skip to Dragic for a 3. pic.twitter.com/iOgeH3SH12

— Steve Jones Jr. (@stevejones20) September 5, 2020

A refusal to tailor scheme to personnel was maddening for Bucks fans to watch. Again: this should have been worked on in the regular season so the team could be ready to switch in the playoffs.

Budenholzer also showed a lack of imagination in how he used both Giannis and Middleton. As Miami followed the game plan to defend Antetokounmpo put together by the Raptors last year — building a wall with multiple defenders to deny his drives to the paint — the Bucks kept ramming Giannis into that wall over and over. There were so many other ways to get him the ball in advantageous positions that the Bucks chose not to explore.

Why didn’t we see more actions with Middleton as the ball handler and Giannis as the screener? It worked effectively whenever Milwaukee went to it.

Giannis Antetokounmpo has only 18 possessions so far in the Playoff as the PnR Rollman. He's 11/12 (91.7%) from the field in these possessions, producing 1.56 PPP, while also drawing 6 shooting fouls. Just 18 possessions.

— Dean Maniatt (@AllTheBucks) September 4, 2020

This is the Middleton/Antetokounmpo Side PnR I mentioned as a way to get good looks. The Bucks run it in the 2nd possession of the game. The Heat know that Giannis will slip, they both go under to switch, so Middleton gets a wide-open 3. The Bucks went back to that play never. pic.twitter.com/ICzjVcNmMX

— Dean Maniatt (@AllTheBucks) September 5, 2020

If the Bucks want to see what good coaching looks like in the playoffs, look no further than the Heat. Miami played drop coverage during the start of the regular season before going with a more switch-heavy scheme after the trade deadline, as detailed by the great Nekias Duncan.

It’s hard to win in the playoffs only playing one style, regardless of how successful you’ve been with that style earlier in the year. The Bucks needed a changeup, but Budenholzer didn’t have them ready for it.

The Bucks’ roster was also flawed after too many failed draft picks

Budenholzer’s coaching certainly cost Milwaukee a chance at the series, but the Bucks’ struggles go beyond even that. Ultimately, Milwaukee’s roster just wasn’t good enough. Even scarier, they don’t have many realistic avenues towards improving it in the immediate future.

Beyond the decision to let Brogdon walk over money, Milwaukee has simply been terrible in the draft since selecting Giannis in 2013. Here’s what the Bucks have done with their recet draft picks:

Jabari Parker with the No. 2 overall pick in 2014

Rashad Vaughn with the No. 17 pick in 2015

Thon Maker with the No. 10 pick in 2016

D.J. Wilson with the No. 17 pick in 2017

Donte DiVincenzo with the No. 17 pick in 2018

The Bucks used their first round pick last year to trade Tony Snell in another cost-cutting move. DiVincenzo, who had something of a breakout year this season, is the only one of those draft picks to work out to any degree.

Hindsight is of course 2020, but teams simply cannot screw up the draft so often and expect to build a title contender. Joel Embiid went one pick after Parker in 2014. Montrezl Harrell and Larry Nance Jr. went after Vaughan in 2015. Domantas Sabonis went one pick after Maker in 2016. OG Anunoby went shortly after Wilson in 2017.

By blowing the draft so often, the Bucks had to rely on older veterans in the postseason that simply didn’t have enough athleticism to keep up with the Heat’s younger roster. If George Hill, Ersan İlyasova, Kyle Korver, and Robin Lopez weren’t good enough this year, they certainly won’t be in the future either as they’re all in their mid-30s. Eric Bledsoe was a disaster offensively, too, averaging 11.8 points per game on 32 percent shooting for the series.

The Bucks now need to overhaul parts their roster in the final season of Giannis’ contract next year. The only problem is they have no cap space and very few appealing trade assets. In that way, letting Brogdon go actually gave the team less flexibility, as he still would have been tradeable on his $80 million deal. What are the Bucks supposed to do now?

The Heat shined in all the ways the Bucks failed

Miami nailed two first round draft picks with Bam Adebayo and Tyler Herro, both taken outside the top-10. It made a hugely beneficial trade in-season by acquiring Jae Crowder and Andre Iguodala from Memphis. It landed a marquee free agent in Jimmy Butler. It also has a coach in Erik Spoelstra who isn’t scared to adjust his game plan in the pressure cooker of the NBA playoffs.

Yes, Giannis deserves some blame. He only hit 52.7 percent of his free throws in the series and had a noticeable lack of counters beat Miami’s wall. He certainly needs to add a mid-range jumper to his arsenal, among other things. Giannis will be better in the future. He’s still only 26 years old, an age where LeBron James and Michael Jordan came up short, too. It was the Bucks’ job to surround Giannis with the best environment possible, and they botched that by having a coach who wouldn’t adjust within a playoff series, by letting Brogdon go to save money, by wasting draft picks nearly every single year since his arrival.

Antetokounmpo said all the right things after Milwaukee’s second round playoff exit. He has talked publicly about wanting to stay in Milwaukee long-term so many times that it might be hard for him to actually leave as a free agent next summer. If Giannis takes a step back and looks at the reality of the situation, though, he’ll see a team that doesn’t have many good young players or appealing trade assets, owned by people who refused to pay up to keep one of his better teammates.

If Giannis really is happy in Milwaukee, the Bucks will have plenty more chances to win a championship. Maybe there’s a miracle Chris Paul trade around the corner even if it feels like other teams can beat Milwaukee’s best offer. Maybe this loss had more to the do with the matchup than anything else — Miami had also beat the Bucks twice in the regular season at full strength.

It’s just hard to look for positives right now. The Bucks blew it and the entire organization deserves to feel the heat. The nature of NBA basketball means the star player will get most of the blame, but the Bucks’ problems aren’t about Giannis. They’re about everything else.

[bongaboi]

Alabama: 2018 Sugar Bowl Champions

NEW ORLEANS -- Nick Saban is back in his comfort zone.

Let others run up the points. He'll take a defensive slugfest every time.

Especially when it gives Alabama another shot at a national title.

In a game where every yard was a struggle, the Crimson Tide defenders took matters into their own hands. They accounted for a pair of touchdowns just 13 seconds apart in the third quarter to turn an offensive slog into a 24-6 rout of defending national champion Clemson in the Sugar Bowl semifinal game Monday night.

"This game was about our identity as a team," Saban said. "I don't think anybody would doubt our relentless attitude out there. We had a warrior-like mentality."

He was clearly pleased.

Sure, it was quite a contrast to the first two meetings in the Alabama-Clemson trilogy, both high-scoring classics with the national title on the line , not to mention the Rose Bowl semifinal that preceded it. Georgia knocked off Oklahoma 54-48 in a double-overtime thriller that wasn't decided until the Alabama was on its second possession in the Big Easy.

There would be no drama in the nightcap. With Deshaun Watson off to the NFL, top-ranked Clemson (12-2) simply had no answer for the Tide's latest group of defensive standouts, setting up an all-Southeastern Conference showdown for the national title -- with Saban matched against his former defensive coordinator, Georgia coach Kirby Smart.

"I'm proud of the job he's done," Saban said. "I'm sure it will be a great football game."

Leading only 10-6 after a turnover to start the second half handed Clemson a field goal, the fourth-ranked Tide (12-1) quickly snuffed out any thoughts of a repeat title for the Tigers.

It began with 308-pound defensive tackle Da'Ron Payne picking off a wobbly pass after besieged Clemson quarterback Kelly Bryant was hit as he threw. Payne rumbled 21 yards on the return, shedding one would-be tackler with a deft open-field move and drawing a 15-yard personal foul penalty when he was finally dragged down with a horse collar tackle.

After Alabama drove to a first down at the Clemson 1, Payne re-entered the game -- presumably to add another big body for blocking purposes. Instead, he slipped open near the right pylon on a play fake and hauled in a touchdown pass, even managing to get both feet down before the celebration commenced beyond the sideline.

"I've got gold hands," quipped Payne, who was picked as the game's defensive MVP.

A bit shell-shocked by that turn of events, Clemson was thoroughly demoralized after its next offensive play. Bryant's pass deflected off the hands of Deon Cain and was intercepted by linebacker Mack Wilson, who returned it 18 yards for another TD.

They could've called it right then.

"Just incredibly disappointed in our performance," Clemson coach Dabo Swinney said. "But congratulations to Alabama. They were the better team today. No doubt about it."

The Tide, which began the season in Atlanta beating Florida State , will return to Mercedes-Benz Stadium next Monday night to face No. 3 Georgia and give Saban a shot at his sixth title, which would match Bear Bryant.

Saban has four championships in the last eight years at Alabama, along with a BCS title at LSU during the 2003 season.

This is eerily reminiscent of Alabama's run to the 2011 championship, another season when the Tide didn't even win its own division or play for the SEC title. That year, Saban's team lost at home to LSU during the regular season but got a second chance against the top-ranked Tigers with the biggest prize on the line -- in the Sugar Bowl, no less.

On that night in the Big Easy, Alabama defense didn't allow LSU to cross midfield until the closing minutes of a suffocating 21-0 victory. This defensive performance was nearly as impressive.

Clemson was held to 188 yards -- 260 yards below its season average -- and never reached the end zone. Bryant was sacked five times and the Tigers were held to 64 yards on the ground.

Alabama played it tough right to the end, denying Clemson on a fourth-down pass into the end zone with just over a minute remaining.

Clearly, the Tide was still ticked off about the way last season ended, giving up a TD pass with 1 second remaining to hand Clemson the national title.

"This," Saban said, "was a little bit personal for us."

SILENT RENFROW

Clemson receiver Hunter Renfrow was known as the Tide Killer.

Not this time.

After hauling in four TD passes in the last two national championship games -- including, of course, the title winner a year ago -- Renfrow was held to just 31 yards on five receptions. All of his catches came in fourth quarter with Alabama comfortably ahead.

"From the opening kickoff, they hit us in the mouth," Renfrow said.

THE TAKEAWAY

Alabama: The Tide's defense against Georgia's offense will be an especially intriguing matchup given the way the semifinal games played out. One thing to keep an eye on: Anfernee Jennings was helped off with a sprained knee late in the game after recording a sack and three tackles for losses, another potential blow to the Tide's already beleaguered linebacker corps.

Clemson: The Tigers looked at this game as a chance to show they had surpassed Alabama as college football's most dominant program. Sorry, the Tide is still king.

"We'll be back," Swinney vowed.

UP NEXT

Alabama: A national championship game to end the season for the third year in a row and sixth time in the last nine seasons.

Clemson: Opens the 2018 season Sept. 1 by hosting FCS school Furman.

[auburnfamilynews]

Hello friends and welcome back to the Theater of Pain, Auburn Football Theater 2020. Last week, we had some fun and watched the 1996 Independence Bowl between the Tigers and Army as we hit the half way mark of the countdown. This week though, we get back to the DEEP HURTING as we dive back in to games that make no since and often remembered with an OOF or UGH or I remember getting really drunk after that game. Some will argue that this week’s selection should be flipped with the 2015 Jacksonville State game and after doing a rewatch, those people are probably right. So, if you are of that camp, read this writeup, then re-read the Army write up, then re-read the Jacksonville State game, and you are happy…or insane…not sure exactly which one, but hey, that would be you! This week, we revisit the 2011 season for the Auburn Tigers as they welcome home the fans for the first game after the magical 2010 season…this is Utah State vs Auburn from 2011.

THE PREGAME

As mentioned before, Auburn had just won the National Title and was still basking in its warm glow. Cammy Cam had taken off for the NFL, along with Darvin Adams, Nick Fairley and most of the offensive line so to say that Auburn was looking to rebuild would be an understatement. Utah State was led by Gary Anderson who was breaking in a true Freshman quarterback from the Houston area named Chuckie Keeton who would take the reigns and run with them on offense and on defense were spearheaded by senior linebacker Bobby Wagner. Utah State had been a pesky team to some but had never beaten a Top 25 team away from home and had only won 1 game against a ranked opponent in 55 tries so Auburn looked to be safe as they kicked off the season…OR WERE THEY.

THE GAME

The bourbon of choice for this one is Mitcher’s Small Batch, for those keeping score at home.

So far on the countdown we have seen a lot of…winners…in the press box *COUGH* ROD GILMORE *COUGH* MARK JONES *COUGH* but there is one who has been absent for the most part. She make her only countdown appearance today

AND WITH FORMER OREGON COACH MIKE BELLOTTI no less. How mean is it for ESPN to send the coach that just lost the national title to the team that beat them’s opening game? While I am not a fan of Beth’s tenor and cadence, she calls a pretty good game, so don’t expect much in the way of that grating on me.

Kickoff happens with Utah State getting the ball first. Both teams begin the feeling out process and trade 3 and outs to start the season. Utah state with it for their second drive as they begin from the 36. They would have the ball for 3 plays and on that 3rd play

Yeah…that’s a quiet JHS right there, and just like that its 7-0 Aggies.

Auburn would get it and, in 3 plays, would answer right back.

Mmmm, that Emory Blake acceleration. And after 12 offensive plays, its 7-7 as we should settle in for a track meet apparently.

Well, I spoke too soon, Utah state gets it from their 20 and begins a march, however it looks like the defense has then hemmed in on a 3rd and 20.

That doesn’t bode well. The Aggies would get it inside the 5 but would be cut just short on 4th down and they will kick the FG right?

It might be a long day at the stadium friends. With the 4th down conversion, it’s a 14-7 USU lead.

Auburn would then get it from their own 27 before punting it away after 3 plays and Utah State would begin a drive that actually made me check to make sure it wasn’t the one from before. I say this because, this happened.

And it was followed by this

The only way I was sure that it wasn’t the same drive was because the first one was 15 plays and the second one was 16…So Utah State now has a commanding lead over Auburn at 21-7. What Auburn has to do on this next drive is methodically work down the field and give that defense a rest because they’ve been on the field for 31 of the last 34 plays without a true res…

DAMN IT TRE! The guys just put on the oxygen masks! But it’s a score and Auburn definitely needed that! So now its 21-14 and it doesn’t feel so bad, as long as Utah State don’t have an 18 play drive to respond.

Luckily, it’s a quick 3 and out and the Tigers get it back at their own 36. After 7 plays and running down the clock as much as they can, they punt down to the Utah State 2 and the half comes to an end with USU leading Auburn 21-14 and it’s time for another pour of bourbon. Taking a look at the stats from the first half, Auburn had a total of 16 offensive plays…16. And somehow they are only down by 7.

Auburn will get the ball to start the second half and will get nice field position from the 25. I really nice drive followed that used 11 plays and was capped with a big 3rd down play from the MVP of the BCS title game…if you guys didn’t know that.

That Dyer run put things back at level and it’s a brand new ball game.

Utah State would follow up with a 7 play drive that picked up 17 yards before they gave it back to Auburn at the 12, where the Tigers would look to build on their previous drive.

So a punt followed.

The Aggies would get it back at the Auburn 45 and hit it big with a huge 33 yard pass play from Keeton that set them up for a field goal attempt.

That made it 24-21 Aggies as the crowd at JH started to get a touch restless.

Auburn would get it from the 28 on the kick and would reach in to their bag of tricks to wake up the offense.

Huge play to get it in to USU territory, and Trotter would look to build on to it the very next play

Not sure I’ve ever seen the snap go right through the Quarterback’s hands like that. In all seriousness though, he would make up for it on the play after that.

BROKE YOUR DAMN ANKLES SON!!! WOOOOOOOOO! Legends say that dude’s jock is still on the 5 yard line.

So after the ambulance came out and help that poor child, it was Auburn’s lead 28-24. Take a moment to enjoy this, cause not much good happens for the rest of the game…till the end of course.

Utah State would get the kick from the 20 (after it went through the freaking uprights) and would do that thing where they have a sustained drive and Auburn can’t stop them until.

Until they reach the endzone, at least then Auburn gets the ball back. So Utah State breaks back out on top 31-28

Auburn would get the ball at their own 34 and look to answer.

So a punt was the next play.

Utah State would take it from their own 35 and look to work the clock and get the score to put this one way.

They would get deep in to Auburn territory and face a 4th down field goal attempt to go up 6 on the Tigers.

Oh those tricky tricky Aggies….

As you can probably guess, this was 2 plays later.

And now its starting to feel real bad, with just over 3 and a half to play, Auburn is now down 10.

The Tigers would get it from their own 35 and have a nice drive that would be capped in a fitting way.

No Lutzy dance but that’s cause there is still work to do. So Auburn is back with in 3, that’s the good news. The bad news is that there are only 2 minutes left and the Tigers only have 1 time out to go. So that means its time for uat’s second favorite play, only behind a Field Goal attempt, the onside kick!

Ok, let’s real talk here. How is it a dead ball if you recover an onside kick? If you have the chance to run with it, take off! Either way, Auburn would get the ball from the Utah State 44 and would get to work. After 7 plays, the Tigers had worked inside the Aggie 5. Play 8 would push them ahead.

30 seconds to go and Auburn is on top 42-38

Utah State would get 3 plays out of the clock but would be stopped on a screen play at the final gun and Auburn held on for a 42-38 victory to start the 2011 campaign.

THE AFTERGLOW

Following this Auburn would fall out of the top 25 but would beat a ranked Mississippi State team the following week before dropping a road game to Clemson. If you want a deep dive on the 2011 season, click over to the South Carolina game and I hit up the rest of that season.

For Utah State, they would have a rougher go of it, as they entered November with a 2-5 record but rallied to win out till their bowl game, a 1 point loss to Ohio in the Humanitarian Bowl, to finish with a 7-6 record.

That’s it for this week’s look back at one of the more forgettable games in Auburn history. Next week we begin with the Top 3 and a game I can honestly say, I remember watching a little bit of, but I had to go to bed because it was past my bed time (I don’t know why I had a bedtime on a Saturday night but I vividly remember it), so this will be my first true watch of next week’s game. Until till then, stay safe and please bring back football…even if its hard to watch.

from College and Magnolia - All Posts https://www.collegeandmagnolia.com/2020/5/4/21245856/aft2020-4-2011-utah-state

[mitchbeck]

CANTLON: XL CENTER COMING INTO A FINAL STAGE?

BY: Gerry Cantlon, Howlings HARTFORD, CT - The long and meandering road known as, "The XL Center Reboot" has been both a Greek comedy and a Greek tragedy as well, but the light at the end of the tunnel seems to be in sight. But at the same time, we have been down this road before. Executive Director, Mike Freimuth, who has sounded dire warnings in the past few years, but this one seems to have more urgency than past pronouncements as the calendar gets ready to flip toward 2020. The road ahead is narrow, and it isn’t filled with gold and honey, but a few thorn bushes and potholes still lie ahead a modern 21st century XL Center to emerge. “Of course I’m frustrated, but we hope we can get to a happy place. We’ve started this about six or seven years, ago. We invested $35-40 million dollars, and at the beginning, we thought we could get ten years. We didn’t think we would go ten, but here we are entering seven years. "We are getting to the point where some very difficult decisions have to be made and if it’s a no, we're going to have to do it now. It’s gonna be a legislative call on this Capital projects are still in limbo. I really think by the end of the session (in June) something will be done, but it will have to wrestled through the legislative process,” Freimuth remarked. There has been radio silence over the past two months while behind the scenes, many efforts are currently underway on multiple fronts to finally push the project over the goal line. As yet another market study was started, a critical step for a final push that will begin in earnest after the new year. One thing is clear, as the CRDA pursues taking another crack at creating a public-private financial component, there will be a combination, but make no mistake, public money will be a part of the equation whether it’s a 60/40 or 70/30 split or some other ratio. “There is gonna be a public component. We are working toward getting private capital involved. What percentage or blend it will be, I have no idea at this point. "I can say there is no way it will be 100% private. The math is simply not there for it. Some of the controls, operational components and the public rights under the public domain are very sensitive issues in any future ownership partnership arrangement. "There will be a level of public engagement. What the perfect blend will be is, I don’t know. All of this is subject to future negotiations, but those three elements are all going to be a part of this and all are on the table.” When asked if the needle has moved in the legislature on bonding with significant push back from the big cities to allocating any more money for the XL? “That hasn’t changed a whole lot, but I hope with this work we're doing now, we can hopefully change that dynamic.” The market study that is underway, the fourth done in the past seven years carries a significant piece of the future direction that is to be undertaken to bring finality to this process is to be ready by January. “As we speak, a lot of work is being done to prepare this report. We have several dynamics to look at such as UCONN going back to the Big East in basketball. "The report is a big part of several things we are analyzing for the re-boot. "We have hired an outside financial advisor and as part of securing private capital, this will be our walking papers to go to boards in seeking investors and attract the necessary capital investment that is required. "This process isn’t going to be done by hanging out a shingle in a newspaper or a website. Having this info is for a direct appeal. This could allow us to open the door to talk to an array of investment groups.” The thorniest issue that is still unresolved is that of the atrium and the long-standing, two-and-a-half plus negotiations with Northland Corporation, the tile owner to the property, and the one-time manager to the XL Center and that tract has taken a new turn. “The Governors office has reached out and has begun talking to Northland for about a month. There is nothing new to report on that front." One thing Freimuth did confirm was that the CRDA did offer $4.5 million to Northland and subsequently rejected it. The eminent domain arrow stays in his CRDA shoulder bag as Governor Lamont, Majority Leader Joe Aresimowicz (D-Berlin), and minority leader Len Fasano (R-North Haven), are still not disposed of for him to pull the bow back and let it fly. Freimuth declined to name Northland’s asking price but reiterated the process they have been working under. “They have a much higher number than we believe is justifiable. We have done multiple appraisals, made multiple offers and we haven’t come to terms and that where we sit,” Freimuth, with a tone of annoyance, said that he still is discussing this issue. In his public-private dilemma, he and the building's management company, Spectra, have been in what he calls discussions, not negotiations. “One element that's out there is whether a private investor will want Spectra or not? I have no clarity on that issue because it will affect operations and staffing, which presents another set of issues, such as who will handle the facility (day-to-day)? At what level will this be at? What is the budgetary requirement?” Cantlon’s Corner has learned from a variety of sources that the figure is somewhere near $10 million, but that the appraisal includes the entire area, not just the atrium. Spectra has been operating at an even lower figure than previously known, which had been $600 million and that has affected the marketing efforts of the tenants. “It's more like $460 million now, and we have weaned back on the marketing because of the budget. We have a very tight balance between UCONN and the Wolf Pack. The budgets have not changed much and that runs the entire state budget.” Declining attendance last year is a product of bad teams, and the trimming of marketing. He acknowledges it could be better. “We certainly would like better attendance at the XL and Rentschler. Certainly, there's a combination of factors involved. There has been a slight uptick we hope continues." Looking ahead, recent developments regarding MSG and its ownership structure regarding its minor sports properties. There was an announcement two weeks ago that the MSG Board approved a spin-off of those entities into some other yet to be announced new umbrella, but with SEC filings and approval now done this long-awaited shift is now underway that is a year-and-a-half in the making. Freimuth was very cautious in answering about the how the Wolf Pack could be affected. “I’ve heard about it. The CRDA hasn’t been directly contacted about it,” Freimuth said very succinctly. With a lease renewal date coming up in just over a month for the Wolf Pack for the 2020-21 season, the first of three one-year options for MSG, nothing has yet to be done. “We haven’t heard yet from MSG regarding the renewal, but we still have till the end of the year,”  Freimuth said of the Wolf Pack concluding the second year of a five-year deal effective in June. The very much needed new chiller system will be installed this summer after being shelved for over a year. “Our construction team got bogged down at Dillon (the stadium home of the USL Hartford Athletic). In fact, we are preparing our bid packages now for an RFP that will go out after the new year,” Freimuth said even with an unusual June Cirque de Soleil ice show. “I think we can still do things and build around it. We haven’t had ice down in the spring the past few years, but we can work around things for this to get completed,” said Freimuth who has had the project money for the new chiller system and atrium acquisition for nearly two years. The XL Center remains open for business, but it seems the next seven months will be the last chance to secure a future as all around the XL, much work is needed to revitalize the downtown core, It's either underway or plans are being finalized to overhaul certain sections nearby. Only time and the state legislature have the answer to what form the XL Center will or will not be part of the future of downtown Hartford. Read the full article