#oh hey it's a thirty-year anniversary!

[king-of-men]

I don't know why people keep posting that it's September. It's been September for thirty years now. What's your point?

[apuckishwit]

When Your Boyfriend's a Reformed Mean Girl

100 percent inspired by this tiktok: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTR75sjkf/

Time seems to do wierd things for Eddie Munson.

It's something Steve has gotten used to, in the year they've been dating. Eddie is attentive and affectionate, always makes sure Steve needs are being met, always goes the extra mile to let Steve know how much he loves him, how much he cherishes their time together. In many ways, he's the best partner Steve's ever had.

Just...sometimes things like approaching deadlines and important dates seem to literally not register in his brain until it's almost too late. And not even then, sometimes.

Eddie acknowledges that it's a problem. He puts every effort into finding workarounds. There is a calendar hanging at both his (brand new, government-funded) trailer and Steve's house, hanging right by the door with color-coded schedules and a pack of Post-It notes and a cup of pens sitting on a little table below it in case something changes or comes up. Steve has a dedicated half hour every night where he's allowed to remind Eddie of things they have coming up, or ask if they've been added to the calendar and Eddie is one hundred percent not allowed to gripe about being nagged in that thirty minutes. Not that he would, because most of the time there's at least one, "Oh, shit, forgot about that." When something slips through the cracks, he apologizes promptly and sincerely if it's something that affects someone other than him and he is always trying to do better.

Steve understands. Hell, after as many concussions as he's had, details get away from him too sometimes. There's several color-coded blocks on the calendar for Steve, as well. Sometimes, Eddie just forgets things despite his best efforts.

But their anniversary? The date that Steve has been carefully planning for almost a month to celebrate their first (of hopefully, many) year together as a couple? Really?

Eddie is going to be horrified.

He is going to feel so bad, and so guilty, and he is absolutely going to go all out to make it up to Steve. Steve knows this. He knows Eddie loves him, and that Eddie was looking forward to tonight as much as he was, and that this is just an instance of Eddie's brain betraying him, and not him actively trying to hurt Steve, or be dismissive of him. Eddie is going to feel awful when he realizes that he stood Steve up on their one-year anniversary to fight imaginary dragons with the boys. Hell, the boys are probably going to feel awful when they realize they gave Eddie something else to focus on in the lead-up to his one-year anniversary.

Well. Dustin, Lucas, and Will are going to feel awful. Mike will probably think it's hilarious.

The point is, Steve knows Eddie didn't do this on purpose, and it's not that Eddie doesn't value his time with Steve enough to remember the date, and so he's merely irritated. Maybe a little exasperated. Not truly angry.

All he has to do is radio over to Wheeler's place and remind Eddie what the date is. His boyfriend will literally drop everything, will probably not even bother to pack up his precious miniatures and dice before he's tearing out of the driveway and breaking every traffic law imaginable to get to Steve's house. Steve doesn't actually want Eddie to get a ticket or anything, though. Besides.

He's feeling a little petty.

There's steaks waiting to be tossed on the grill, twice-baked potatoes in the oven, and a fucking homemade chiffon cake with fresh strawberries and whipped cream chilling in the fridge. Eddie's gift is sitting on the counter, in an elegant little gift bag tied with black ribbon.

"Hey Rob, you wanna come over for dinner?" he says into his walkie, deciding to let Fate decide if his boyfriend is listening and catches a clue.

"Do I get a piece of that cake you made?" Robin replies immediately, amusement already dancing in her voice because she's his (platonic) soulmate and she can read his mind.

"You can take the leftovers home," he says.

And then his (romantic) soulmate, who can usually read his mind, comes over the channel as well. "Have fun, babe!" Eddie says brightly. "This is probably going to run later than I thought. I'll probably just pick you up for breakfast tomorrow, okay?"

Steve rolls his eyes fondly. "Okay."

"Love you!" Eddie says, and signs off.

Robin brings a bottle of wine she stole from her parents' pantry and they demolish the dinner and half the cake. Steve does get another package of steaks out to thaw in the fridge for tomorrow, though, and blows out the fancy candles he'd lit before they burn too low to be used again. Fuck if he's making another chiffon cake, though, persnickety little thing. He calls Enzo's and orders a chocolate marble cheesecake to be picked up tomorrow.

"So you gonna milk this for a nice present or what?" Robin asks as Steve is packing the remains of the cake for her to take home, as promised.

"Nah. He's fucking perfect like 90% of the time...I'm not gonna get mad at him for the other ten." Robin smiles at him, a little gooey-eyed. Steve returns it with a smirk. "But I'm not letting him off the hook entirely."

He has just finished putting the dishes away when he hears the rumble of Eddie's van in the driveway. He glances down at his watch, laughing to himself a little when he notes that while late, it is far, far too early for a gaming session to be done. He scoops his little gift bag off the counter and saunters to the front door just in time for a frantic knocking to sound. He schools his features and opens the door.

"Steve! Stevie, baby, I am so, so sorry. I swear to God, I had tonight written down in like five different places, but Dustin wanted to try a new character class and we haven't done this campaign yet, and I got so excited...I'm so sorry I forgot, but I'm here and I SWEAR I will make it up to you!" Eddie pauses for breath, wild-eyed and panting.

Steve holds the silence for a moment, and then shakes his head, leaning forward to drop a kiss on Eddie's cheek. "You're such a nerd," he says, affection dripping from his words. He sighs. "I hope you know, now I'm expecting flowers tomorrow. And I get to pick the movies for, like, two weeks with no complaints."

Eddie almost wilts in relief. "Absolutely none," he promises, reaching out to grip Steve's hand. "I will make tomorrow night AMAZING. I promise."

Steve smiles at him, his chest aching with the love he feels for this man. But he's still feeling just a little bit petty. He holds the bag out to Eddie, tilting his head coyly. "You can still open this tonight, though."

"Babe! I thought we said no gifts." He takes the bag in his hands, plucking at the ribbon.

Steve's smile turns just a little sharper. He worked fucking hard on that cake. "It's kind of for both of us, really. It's what I was gonna wear up to bed tonight."

Eddie peeks in the box, his brow furrowing. "Stevie...there's nothing but strawberry lip gloss and a bottle of lube in here." He looks up, and freezes as his brain catches up with what his mouth just said.

Steve leans forward and kisses him, hard, long, and absolutely filthy. "Suffer," he whispers against his boyfriend's lips.

Then he shuts the door in his face.

[almostgenerallyalways]

where the wild things are (part 2)

Pt 2/?   - part 1 here Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem reader Category: angst / light smut (>18!) / eventual happiness Word count: 2,7K CW: language, grief

Two years ago, your sister’s death left a smoking crater in your life, leaving you to take care of your niece. Bradley has lived with loss his whole life, and is in a bad spot on the anniversary of his mother’s death.

Or: there is a crack in everything / that is how the light gets in

Six weeks later Bradley finds himself at Target early one Saturday morning, listlessly looking at socks (keeping on, his mom used to call this, on mornings where she’d throw open the windows to the Tierrasanta house, blasting Aerosmith or Tina Turner to silence the ghosts clinging to the walls, though he personally prefers operating on auto-pilot to think of the state he’s been in for the last few weeks), when a little girl rounds the corner of the aisle at full speed and crashes right into his left knee.

“Oh, shit!” He says, before he can think better of it, but upon impact the child has immediately started wailing so loud that she can’t possibly have heard him.

He drops his red plastic basket to the floor and kneels, helping her sit up. At first glance, there’s no sign of injury, and he breathes a sigh of relief.

“Hey, princess, are you okay?” he asks, quickly looking over her head for bumps. She can’t be more than four or five, but she has a set of lungs on her like a much older kid.

Bradley doesn’t know a lot about kids, but he thinks this one may be more shocked than hurt. Already the heaving sobs are slowing down, and she looks up at him with something of curiosity.

“Where are your parents?” He looks over his shoulder, down the aisle, searching for a frazzled mom or dad, or at least an employee bearing a red polo shirt. It’s before nine-thirty, early enough that the store isn’t crowded yet, and the speckled grey linoleum tiles stretch empty as far as he can see.

“Sierra!” He hears a frantic voice exclaim, before a woman appears around the corner, clearly distressed. “Sierra, what the –”

He sees you still, recognizing you at the exact moment you do him.

“Oh, shit,” He says again, and Sierra’s definitely heard him this time.

* * *

You rush over to kneel down beside the little girl before him, gathering her up: “Baby, are you okay? I’ve told you a million times not to run off like that.”

Bradley watches you run your hands over the little girl’s head, down her shoulders, and a comprehension dawns over him that makes his stomach coil.

Having established that she’s not hurt, you look over at him with wide eyes: “Bradley. I’m sorry.”

What you’re apologising for exactly, he’s not sure, but it brings him back to the morning after you met: waking up to his empty bed, and the gut-punch of disappointment it had been. It’s not like he’d never done it – quietly gathering up his clothes from the floor of some conquest’s bedroom before any further entanglement could ensue was something of a modus operandi for him, he can admit that – but that night had felt different to him, had felt real. He remembers the way your fingertips on his bare skin had brought heat to the surface, and incited a pull deep in his stomach he couldn’t quite put a name to. You’d made him laugh and you’d dulled the heavy, hollow feeling he’s gotten used to carrying everywhere, lately, the weight around his neck lessening with every kiss you’d pressed to his overheated skin.

And then he’d woken up alone.

And here’s the reason, he thinks, the sinking feeling in his gut rapidly accelerating. He gets to his feet, anger bubbling up in his chest: “What is going on here? Are you married?”

You get to your feet too, the little girl now clinging to your leg (you look beautiful, he can’t help but think: wearing leggings, a jean jacket and a faded baseball cap. No trace of the dressed-up glamour from the night you met, and all the more endearing to him for it), your eyes growing wide: “No!”  

He continues, crossing his arms: “Because I’m not that kind of guy, if you’re wi-”

You cut him off with a hand on his wrist, and he stills immediately.

Truth is, he’d hoped, and what is as dangerous as that? He’d taken you home, had been entranced by you. He’d slept with you and it had felt right, he feels fucking stupid thinking it but it had, and he’d fallen asleep tangled up in you and had felt, for some stupid reason, safe.

And then when he’d woken up, you’d disappeared.

He shrugs off your hand, straightening himself to his full height, and looks down the harshly lit aisle. “Right, I guess I’ll –”

“Bradley,” You say softly, and he looks back down. You’ve picked the little girl up off the floor, holding her on your hip now, and she looks up at him with eyes that resemble yours, and he feels his chest constrict.

You bite your lip. “I owe you an apology. But can we have this conversation somewhere other than the sock aisle?"

* * *

You commandeer a small table outside the adjacent Starbucks, which has a view over a thin stretch of arid plants interspersed with a few palm trees, immediately followed by the parking lot. Behind it, Saturday morning traffic is swelling over the Mission Valley Freeway.

Giving Sierra a book from your bag and some water, you look her over once more to make sure she’s okay. She’s been on a wild streak lately, slipping away from you when you least expect it, no matter how vigilant you are. You try hard not to consider it as another one of your failings as a parent, but it’s getting difficult.

Right now, though, she is surprisingly compliant, settling down into the metal chair with her legs crossed, already engrossed in her picture book. You suspect it has everything to do with the man currently pulling back the chair next to you.

Just a second too slow, you realise that he’s pulled the chair out for you. “Oh. Thanks.”

You sit down, and he mirrors you.

You’d forgotten how handsome he was, or really you’d tried not to think about him at all. He’s dressed differently, on a Saturday morning: shorts and a worn raglan tee, sunglasses hooked into the neckline. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, lightly bouncing the right one, and you don’t really know how to take it.

“I’m sorry I just left,” You say, not sure where to start. “I had a great night with you, and then… It was a cowardly thing to do.”

He scratches the back of his neck. “I’d like to play it cool and say it didn’t bother me. But I don’t know, I kinda thought we hit it off.”

“We did,” You sigh, glancing at Sierra. Truth is, it had scared you, how easy everything had felt with him: The conversation at the bar never running dry, the way he’d kissed you (outside, you blaming the rapidly cooling night air for the goosebumps on your skin), the way he’d whispered into your skin, in his bed, clutching your hips as he buried his face into your neck, setting every nerve in your body alight.

You’d been fooling yourself, because things weren’t easy, were they?

“This is going to sound like a huge cliché, but… I never do things like that. Anymore, at least.” You can’t meet his eye, staring instead at a crack in the pavement where dry weeds poke through, trying to grow against the odds. The previous time you’d had sex at all, you recall, was with your ex-boyfriend, who’d dumped you three weeks into grieving your sister. Who, when you’d still been reeling from it, the sound of the impact still hissing in your ears, had sent you a text: It seems like you have a lot going on right now. Maybe we should hit pause on this until you get back to Boston.

You look at him finally, cringing at yourself. “I thought I could be selfish for a night. And after you fell asleep, reality hit me and I couldn’t face trying to explain that I… can’t get involved with anyone. Maybe that’s presumptuous, or maybe I shouldn’t have gone home with you in the first place. I’m sorry.”

Bradley looks down at his well-worn pair of running shoes, not meeting your eyes. “Oh. I see.”

Maybe it’s the fact that Sierra was up half the night, and so you barely got any sleep. Maybe it’s the undeniable fact that sitting across from Bradley again has an effect on you – the way his jaw works, the subtle smell of his aftershave. That stern set of his brow, a premature groove indicating he may spend too much time wearing that expression.

The sober, aggressively sunny reality of the Mission Valley Target parking lot isn’t enough to fully dispel the pull you felt towards him.

You hesitate. Sierra is the most guarded part of your heart, but you feel you owe Bradley an explanation. Glancing over at her, you see she’s in her own little world, absorbed in her favorite book. You take a deep breath.

“Two years ago, my sister died.”

Bradley’s head shoots up, at that, and his brown eyes rest on you.

You look down, smoothing your hands over your thighs, bracing yourself because you will not cry before 10 AM. “It was stupid. She went in for routine surgery. One in a million.”

Thinking back to that phone call always pulls you back under, and you have to make an effort to keep your voice even. “I was living in Boston at the time, and the entire flight back here I…” You shake your head, ousting the memory of the worst six hours of your life, when you’d tried to bargain with a God you’d never believed in, when you hadn’t been physically confronted yet with the cold, hard reality you knew awaited you after landing. “Anyway. Sierra has been with me since.”

The man across from you nods, hands still clasped together by his knees. “I’m sorry I assumed… I just saw you, and she looks so much -”

You cut him off. “I’m sorry I didn’t just tell you. It’s hard to talk about, sometimes, and at Callie’s party…” You pause, trying to sort through your thoughts as cars slowly roll by a short distance away, looking for parking, families transferring their weekend shopping into the trunks of their cars.

“I don’t go out much, anymore. My dad’s not in great health, and my mom takes care of him, so they can’t take care of Sierra. I take on extra billing hours all the time to make ends meet. There’s a medical malpractice suit and the lawyer fees are horrendous, and it’s so painful to keep dragging it out, but I have to pursue it if I want any chance of sending Sierra to college. It’s just a lot, all the time.” You take another deep breath. “I guess I wanted to feel like my old self for a night.”

You look up, feeling your eyes tear up. “I’m sorry. You must think I’m crazy, I just wanted to explain-”

To your surprise, he takes your hand in his. It dwarfs yours, and the feeling of his rough palm on your skin grounds you. “Hey. It’s okay.”

* * *

Hangman has been trying to reach him for two weeks, but this time, when his Bagman moniker flashes up the screen of his phone just as Bradley pulls his truck into his driveway, he picks up.

“Bradshaw.” Hangman is, of course, already coming in hot. “So you do still know how to answer the phone. What gives, man? If it wasn’t for Penny telling me you were still coming to the bar, I might’ve thought you’d burned in.”

Bradley makes a mental note to skip the Hard Deck’s tip jar, next time.

“Been busy, Bagman. I know you’re living it up there on Oahu, but some of us still have work to do.”

“Fuck you, Bradshaw,” The other man says good-naturedly. “Just wanted to make sure you’re not moping around too much.”

Bradley sighs. Since the uranium mission last year, the relationship between Hangman and him has changed, into something that may be the kind of friendship you can only have with someone who saved you and your kind-of-estranged, kind-of-uncle’s life while also still being annoying as shit. Bradley has spent over a year unlearning the decade-long honed itch to punch Hangman in the face, only to find Jake Seresin to be… a good man. A thoughtful friend. A tenacious friend who will keep calling when you’re pointedly ignoring anyone’s attempts to get in touch with you.

“How’s Vanny?” He asks, knowing Jake will tell him anyway, because he can’t not talk about his girlfriend. Meeting the younger aviator changed his friend, sanded down some of his rougher edges.

“She’s great. Getting her double stripes next week. She’s been asking about you.”

Bradley grabs his gym bag from in front of the passenger seat (he never did get any new socks), clutching the phone between his ear and shoulder as he slams the door shut. “I’m fine. Tell her that.”

He hears Hangman inhale on the other end of the line. “Fine. Okay. Where does that fall on a scale of, say, zero to going to the gym at three AM and dodging Penny’s invitations to dinner?”

Unlocking his front door, Bradley sighs again. One thing about Seresin is, he’s extremely perceptive, and once he’s zeroed in on something he will not let it go. It’s infuriating, but on some level, Bradley knows he should be thankful for it. “Let’s say a four, okay?”

Sometimes he thinks about the crash that nearly cost him an eye, and left him with the scars on his face, and wonders what his mother would’ve said, is almost glad she wasn’t around anymore to get that call (Ice got it, instead). Just last year he and Mav went down in enemy territory, and the moment he turned the yoke around he’d been sure he was signing his own death warrant, and still he couldn’t have made any other decision.

“Alright, man.” Jake knows which boundaries not to cross, as well, when to respect the territorial integrity of Bradley’s defenses. “I’ll take a four. If you feel like a change of air, you know you’re welcome in Hawaii any time, right? We’re probably getting our assignment here extended until at least the end of the year.”

“Appreciate it, Bagman.”

Goodbyes exchanged, he hangs up and steps out of his running shoes in the hall, dropping his gym bag on the floor. He stands there, for a minute, letting the cool air of the dark entryway hit his skin, a welcome contrast to the day’s accumulating heat outside, and closes his eyes.

He’d taken your hand, and you’d both sat there for a minute, the dry breeze across the parking lot carrying with it the fumes of traffic crossing the freeway, mingling with the smells of tacos and ceviche from a food truck preparing for the lunch rush, until Sierra had gotten impatient and started trying to get your attention, dropping her book to the floor.

“We should go,” You’d said, inclining your head to the girl, who’d seemed not to be holding her earlier run-in with Bradley against him, grabbing at his sleeve as he’d gotten up to retrieve the book off the ground.

Picking it up, he’d frozen.

It was a newer edition, but the design had been familiar, the cover picture immediately calling him back to his mom reading to him at night, pitching her voice low and high at intervals to emulate all manner of different monsters, Bradley exclaiming at every turn in the story as if he couldn’t recite it by heart, as if they hadn’t read this story together a million times over since Goose had been killed.

“Where the Wild Things Are”, he’d said, a little hoarsely.

“Yeah,” You’d smiled, somewhat watery still. “It’s her favorite.”

Something like resolve had settled in Bradley’s stomach, then.

Phone still in his hand, he swipes the lock screen and scrolls down from Hangman’s name to the newest entry, freshly saved under his contacts as Paloma, dove emoji, and hits call.

 .

.

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  Authors note: soooo pt 1 of this didn’t gather much interest but I have the rest of the story loosely plotted out and i’m enjoying writing it (ask me if i’m working through my feelings re: deciding not to have kids by writing fic lol) so i will probably finish it anyway, just not sure on what timeline. anyway, comments/reblogs always appreciated <3 here’s my masterlist for other stories

[eds6ngel]

hey! I just saw your account and I loved it, I'm looking for accounts that have open requests, if you don't like it, leave me empty, you have no obligation!🤍 eddie x reader where reader likes physical touch, but eddie isn't much of that, and he ends up calling her clingy or suffocating

hey beautiful! i made this a lot more angsty than you asked, but that’s just what i seem to do well, so i hope you enjoy regardless!

warnings: fem!reader. pet names. swearing. mentions of abuse. yelling. swearing. a lot of angst. a lot of hurt. eddie’s childhood trauma </3. comfort. self-inflicted pain. meltdowns. tons of sad eddie. but also some tooth-rotting fluff!! [2.3k].

Childhood trauma was a bitch.

Eddie loved you. He really did. But, it was fairly obvious that your love language was physical touch.

He explained to you that he wasn’t the best at giving physical touch, which was true, but he didn’t tell you from the receiving end. And arguably, that was ten times worse.

And it got visibly worse closer to traumatic events. This wasn’t just a relationship thing either. Close to his mother’s death anniversary last year, he practically shut himself off from all of his friends. He pushed Dustin off of every hug he tried to give.

And this time, it was the anniversary week of when his dad beat him so hard, he broke his nose and cheekbone. He was seven years old at the time.

They say that trauma-filled dates stay with you until the day you die, and Eddie was convinced that was one hundred percent true.

You see Eddie standing by his locker, sneaking up to him and wrapping your arms around his waist. “Guess who?”

You fail to notice the slight flinch in Eddie’s demeanour as he becomes aware of your presence. That was something he struggled with majorly. The unwantedness of your touch.

“Yeah. Hi babe,” he replies slamming his locker shut, D&D manual in his hand.

“How are you?” you ask cheerily, hands still wrapped around his waist as he turns to face you.

“Yeah. Fine, fine,” he says, looking around frantically as he pushes a hand through his hair, letting a shaky breath out.

“You okay?” you ask, placing a soft hand on cheek, him instantly moving his head away and wincing, closing his eyes in pain.

“Yeah. I’m good babe, I promise,” he lies through his teeth. He couldn’t tell you yet. He couldn’t scare you away. He couldn’t lose you. “I just… I have to get going, campaign starts soon.”

“Baby, it doesn’t start for another thirty minutes,” you say, a disappointed look settling on your face.

“Actually, um…” he thinks for an excuse, “We’ve decided to start early today. We’re all just too excited to wait any longer to finish this campaign.”

“Oh,” you softly mumbled, “Okay. Will I see you later?”

“No,” he blurts out, a confused look perched on your face. “Sorry… I mean, um, Wayne and I were going to spend some time together. He has the night off from work.”

You nod, understanding why he wanted some alone time, “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, ‘kay?”

He softly smiles, “Yeah. Tomorrow.”

You lean up and place a quick kiss on his lips before turning your back and waving goodbye to him.

But, on your way home, you wondered why his behaviour was… off. You caught on he wasn’t the biggest fan of physical touch early on in the relationship, but even so, when you hugged him from behind like that, he would still lightly place his hands on top of yours.

And why did he flinch? It’s not like your hands are rough or you gave a harsh movement, it was the same as every other time. And every other time, he would nuzzle his face into your hand. A small gesture, but enough reciprocation to show comfortability.

Maybe he was just having a bad day. Tomorrow’s a new day. Perhaps he would be better tomorrow.

But, you were very wrong.

You walk into the cafeteria, spotting Eddie and the rest of the Hellfire boys sitting at their usual table.

You beam as you walk over, reaching the table and taking your usual seat, on Eddie’s lap. You sit on top of his thigh, wrapping your arm around the back of his shoulder and placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

The conversation goes as normal. Random chats about classes, latest campaigns, recent shows, a mix of everything.

But, Eddie is trying his hardest not to break. His other knee is bouncing and his hand is shaking, him trying to hide the fact by shoving pretzel after pretzel into his mouth.

With the boys loud chatter and the visible weight on his leg, it all becomes too overwhelming for him.

“Babe, can you get off please?” he whispers, just loud enough so she can hear.

“What?” you ask, making sure you heard right.

“Can you fucking get off of me!” he yells, his eyes on the brink of watering as you flinch at the loudness of his voice right beside your ear. You quickly move off of his lap, taking the empty seat beside Mike to your left.

“So fucking clingy all the time,” he grumbles, a slight waver to his face which you pick up on.

You reach out towards his hand, “Baby, what’s wro—“

But, he lets out a harsh whine and slams his fist down on the table in frustration, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut.

He grabs his small lunch box and loudly pushes his chair back, the legs scraping across the floor as he powers out of the cafeteria, arms folded across his chest.

All of the boys have their heads staring down at the table, each avoiding eye contact as they pick at the food on their plates.

“Gareth?” you pipe up, “Can I talk to you a second?”

“Uh… yeah,” he says, the pair of you getting up and walking over to the end of the cafeteria, away from the rest of the boys to be able to hear.

“What’s going on with him?”

Gareth sighs, a sense of knowing to his voice, “It’s best if you talk to him. It’s just…” he pauses, “It’s not my place to say.”

“Is he okay?” you ask in a concerned manner, worried for your boyfriend’s sudden shift in behaviour.

“No… he never is around this time of year. It’s… stuff from the past,” he explains, “I’m not the one to tell you, but he really needs your support. I would suggest you go find him.”

You place a hand on his shoulder, “Thank you Gareth,” you smile, walking back over to the table and collecting your belongings, before turning and walking out of the cafeteria and to the parking lot.

As you burst through the main doors, you look around, Eddie’s van nowhere in sight.

“Shit,” you curse, powering over to your own car and throwing your backpack in the backseat, jumping in the front and slamming the door shut. You put your keys in the ignition and turn it on, reversing out of the parking lot and heading down to Forest Hills Trailer Park.

It’s 1:30 by the time you reach Eddie’s trailer, stepping out of your car, seeing his van parked on the driveway. You walk up to his front door and knock on it, surprisingly no answer being shared.

It felt wrong, but you turn the handle and open the door, stepping into the small space, seeing the walls covered in Wayne’s favourite mugs. You giggle to yourself, he sure had a lot of favourites.

You walk past the couch, heading down the hallway and coming to a halt at his bedroom door. Making sure not to scare him, you lightly knock, “Eddie? Honey, it’s only me.”

“Leave me alone,” you hear him mumble from the other side, that waver in his voice returning once more.

You sigh, “I know you don’t really want that Eds,” you say, knowing that he did indeed want you to be there, he just shut himself out when things went wrong. “I’m going to come in, okay?”

When you are met with silence, you slowly open the door, turning to your right to see Eddie curled up in a ball in the middle of his bed, his knees tucked up to his chest and his head in between his legs.

As he looks up at you, you can see how puffy his eyes are from all the crying, his hair also a fluffy mess. It was the worst sight you had ever seen.

You sigh as you take a seat at the opposite end of his bed, giving your boyfriend enough space to make him feel comfortable. The last thing you wanted to do was scare him more.

“Gareth told me to come and find you. He didn’t tell me the details, but…” you take a breath, “He said you get like this every year and that you could do with my support. So, here I am.”

He simply nods, a strong silence filling the air once more. Seeing as the conversation wasn’t moving any further, you tell him something truthful, “I’m not pushing you to tell me a single thing, but whatever is making you have this reaction, I won’t judge you for it, okay? Our past doesn’t define us, and if you think that telling me is going to make me leave you, I can guarantee you that will never happen in a million years.”

He sniffles, “You won’t leave me?”

You attempt to lighten the mood, “Eds, unless you axe murdered someone in the past fifty days, I promise I won’t leave you.”

He slightly smiles at this as he untangles himself from his self-made ball and sits up on his bed. He takes a breath, debating to admit the truth to you, “You know I don’t live in the most… conventional family. I mean, it’s just me and my Uncle Wayne, you know? But…” he sighs out shakily, “I’ve never told you about my parents… Specifically my dad.”

You look over at him, “I’m listening, baby.”

You can see his leg bouncing, you refraining from the urge to put your hand out to calm him down, realising on the way here that physical touch must’ve been the issue he was facing with you.

“This week… Well, it’s been ten years since my dad hit me so hard he broke my nose and cheekbone. And I just…” He shakes his head in annoyance as the tears spill once again, “Fuck… I know you’re not him. God, you’re nothing like him. You’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me, and you would never hurt me in my lifetime.”

He hits his head a few times with the palm of his hand, you almost jumping in to stop him as he refrains himself from continuing. God, it hurt to see him like this.

He sniffles, “Just… The way you touched my cheek like that yesterday in the hallway, and then today with how overwhelming everything felt in the cafeteria… It just brought back so many fuckin’ memories…”

You slightly shuffle closer to him, maintaining enough distance to make sure you weren’t pushing any boundaries. “And… I’m sorry,” he cries, “You aren’t clingy, not at all, I just couldn’t cope with the physical touch, and I’m just… I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry, angel,” you softly speak, “Trauma is a tough thing. You shouldn’t feel the need to put on a brave face and cover it up just to make others happy. If you don’t want me to touch you, I’m okay with that. Touch isn’t the only way to show love.”

You inch just a tiny bit closer, seeing that he wasn’t flinching anymore and his breathing was becoming more regulated, “I just want to tell you that we have moments where we crash and burn. Healing isn’t a linear process baby. And if you have moments where you don’t want me to hug you or kiss you or simply hold your hand, then all I ask from you is to let me know, okay?”

He shakes his head, “But, I want you to touch me. I don’t want your touch, your such kind and loving touch, to link to his hands,” he spits out the end of his sentence, an obvious frustration at his traumatic childhood.

“Well…” you think for a second, “Why don’t you guide me?”

He looks up slightly in confusion, you beginning to explain yourself further, “Take my hand honey. Guide me to where you want me to touch you. That way, you’ll know that my hands are safe and you are the one initiating the touch. It’s just a small step in healing yourself.”

He looks down at your hands, taking a shaky breath before grabbing them with his own. He places each one on either side of his cheek. You can feel him take a sharp intake as he feels your skin come into contact with his.

He’s gripping onto your hands, afraid to let go as his eyes are closed, you whispering out a soft, “Listen to the sound of my voice baby. It’s only me. It’s your girl’s hands.”

And with those words, he removes his hands from yours, letting them sit comfortably on his cheeks. You can feel and hear him start to cry once more, but this time, in a sense of relief.

He felt safe in what felt like forever. For the first time in years, this week in his life, he let someone touch him, and he didn’t feel scared. He felt safe, he felt secure, he felt loved.

You can feel him reach out for your waist, pulling you close as he places his head on your chest, sobbing into your shirt. “I’m sorry,” he cries out again.

Your hands are now stroking his hair, tangled in his brown curls as you place a soft kiss on his hairline, leaning your head on top of his.

“You don’t need to apologise, my love. We’ll get through this, you’ll get through this. Because I know how strong you are, how tough you are. You aren’t as weak as you think you are. What you did just there? That’s the bravest thing I’ve ever seen someone do. And that is what makes you a strong person. The ability to overcome a fear and accept love into your life when you most struggle with it.”

You can feel him place a soft kiss on your exposed chest, him mumbling, “Thank you. I love you.”

You place one more tender kiss to his head, replying, “I love you too. So incredibly proud of you.”

And that is what he needed. Someone to tell him that he was a strong person. He was worth loving and that he should be proud of himself. And he’s forever grateful that he gets to call that person his girl.

thank you for reading! and i’m sorry for the utter heartbreak in this, but it’s just what i do best </3 hope this was good for you my love!

[idontplaytrack]

✧ Charming

AJ Campos x fem! reader

Warnings: fluff, some coarse language, implied smut at very end

In which AJ and reader bake a cake for their 3-month anniversary, but it turns into a big ‘ol mess.

Requested? Yes / No

(Pictures used are from Pinterest and my own)

“So, what’re gonna do today, babe?” Asked AJ.

“Right?” You chuckle, leaning your head onto her shoulder for a moment. “What do you feel like doing?”

“I mean, three months is a bit of a big deal. A quarter of a year together.” AJ mentions, winding an arm around your waist while you snuggled closer to her chest.

“We could always…bake a cake? It’s a celebration, kinda. I think that calls for some cake.”

“Yeah, we could do that. Of course, honey.” AJ nodded, wrapping her other arm around you. She plants a kiss to the crown of your head, “How ‘bout we go do some grocery shopping? Get what we need and stuff.”

“Sure.” You looked up at her with a smile on your face. She looks down at you, “Let’s go, baby. Up we go.” Still in your pyjamas, you and AJ got changed then did the rest of your morning routines. “It’s barely past 8a.m.— you wanna take a drive into the city?” AJ suggests while brushing her hair, “The Targets are open already anyway.”

“Ooh.” You gasped, “Yeah, let’s do that. Can we go to Build A Bear too?”

AJ turned around to face you, “Sure we can.” She grins, “Should be fun. Haven’t been there in years. We said we have to stop having fun anyway?”

Once the both of you were ready, you guys got into her car and AJ started driving. It was an approximately two-hour drive from Rhinebeck into Manhattan. You dozed off for a but due to the motions of the car, but was soon woken up by the sounds of the city. “Shit, I was out for so long?” You grumbled. “It’s okay.” AJ flashes you a quick smile, “Don’t worry about it.” Finding a parking spot was proven to be quite the challenge, but she got that done. And soon enough, you and AJ were walking into the grocery store. She grabs a basket before you could. You offered to hold on to it, on account that she drove here, but she insisted.

“Hey.” AJ tapped your shoulder softly, “Why don’t we have a little fun? Let’s each go around the store and grab some stuff we think the other person will like.”

“Cute.” You laugh lightly.

“Let’s do a drink, a candy, a chocolate, a bag of chips and one more extra thing— whatever you think I’ll like and I’ll get you something that I think you’ll like.”

“Okie-dokie. Got it.”

“Let’s meet up near the checkout line in thirty minutes?” AJ continues excitedly.

“No problem.” You mirrored her smile.

“Good luck~” AJ teases.

“Won’t need it, babe.” You chuckle, turning around to go the other way.

You didn’t use up more than fifteen minutes to gather everything you knew she’d like, so you pretty much spent the remaining time roaming the store just to see it. Right before thirty minutes was up, you headed for the checkout line to meet with AJ— she walks up to you at the same time. You let her go ahead of you in the line since she was closer to it than you were. And when the cashier was scanning the items you looked at anywhere but her, not wanting to spoil the surprise for yourself. You two were out of there soon enough and went to put those bags in her car before taking the Subway to get to the store you wanted to go to.

“Oh, my God. This place looks so different than I remember it being.” You remarked once you set foot into the store.

“Are you talking about the colour scheme because this one kinda sucks?” AJ whispered.

“AJ!” You chided quietly, seeing a staff member approach.

“The use of primary colours their old layout was way better. This place looks like a hospital.” AJ continues.

“Okay, Kingpun.” You joked, “Should we go then?”

“No. No.” She says, “No, you wanted to come here so we’re gonna make whatever you wanna make before we go.”

“Making a matching one with me.” You requested.

“Yeah, of course.” AJ agrees immediately, eyes scanning the options before her. While it’s been years since either of you have been at Build A Bear, the process was pretty much self-explanatory so you two got through the whole thing without any problems. “These are not cheap.” AJ laughs, checking the prices of the tiny clothing on the shelves, “I get why my Mom never wanted me to go here.”

You guffawed, “Yeah, but it’s just one though, right? Since my Mom threw away my whole collection that I had gathered over like— thirteen years.”

“What? That is so— she just threw all of them out without asking you?” AJ squinted at you for a second before attempting to put a t-shirt on her teddy bear, “The head’s so big. How’d you even get it through?” AJ giggles, you told her, “I just squished it and pushed it through.”

“Well.” She bit back a grin, “Yeah, okay.”

“Okay, let’s go pay for these before we end up buying more stuff than we need.” You urged.

“For sure.” AJ agrees, “Come on, baby.” She took your hand and walked to the checkout.

————

“AJ, why did you pay for me? I could’ve—”

“I wanted to.” She smiled, fingers still interlaced with yours as you walked back to the Subway station. “It’s a gift, alright? Take it. You never want anything, anyway. So just…let me give this to you, hm?”

You sighed quietly, squeezing her hand, “Alright.”

After roaming the city for a little while, and a nice snack— you and AJ decided to it was a good time to drive back home. “Did you have fun?” She asks, hand smoothly finding its way to your thigh for comfort.

“Yep.” You confirmed, “I had a good time. Reliving my childhood and all, without the screaming in my face about prices over a tiny hoodie.”

AJ bit back a laugh which turned into a chuckle as she caresses your thigh, “I’m glad I could let you have a better experience.”

You looked over at her and smiled, “I still think my Mom could have been nicer to me about it. You know? I was what, five or six? And she just raised her voice at me instead of telling me no at a normal volume?”

She doesn’t really say anything, but her hand was still running up and your thigh and then giving it a squeeze.

You offered to take over and drive instead halfway through but AJ still insisted to finish it herself. “I can drive, you know that right? I’m not gonna crash your car.” You giggled.

“I know that.” She smiles while replying, “I just wanna do this, you know? I love having you in the passenger’s seat while I put my hand on your thigh. I don’t know what that’s about, but I just like it.”

You hummed in response, “Oh, okay.” Her thumb softly brushes across your skin at that, and you say, "I like it too."

AJ only smiles back at you while she kept her eyes on the road. You loved seeing her smile— it always made you so happy.

Once you and AJ arrived back at her house, you two were met with her Mom making lunch in the kitchen. "Wow, you girls were up early." Her Mom looks over her shoulder for a second.

"Hey, Mom." AJ went over to give her a hug, "We woke up early so we drove into the city for a bit. Got a few things since we're celebrating today. Three months." "Time flies, doesn't it?" Her Mom commented.

"Indeed." AJ agrees while you walked up to them. She presses a kiss to your cheek, "Hi." You gave her a small smile in return, "Wow, you're making those stuffed avocado bowls? Lucky me."

Her Mom laughs, "She says you like 'em. And I know you're here, so I decided to make this." "Aww. You did?" You looked at AJ.

"I mentioned that you liked it, yes. But you have also complimented her for this dish before, remember?" AJ teases, "Okay, we're gonna go freshen up then we'll be right back, okay, Mom?"

"Of course, mija. Go ahead."

After lunch, you asked AJ if she wanted to watch a movie. "You pick one, honey." AJ nodded in agreement, grabbing the remote to turn the TV on. She hands it over to you, then went to grab the two bags of snacks and things you both got from earlier. You took yours, she took hers, then she sat down, opening up her arms for you to get closer and snuggle with her. "This one?" Your eyes flicked up to look at her. "The Object of My Affection." She reads off the screen, "This is a good one, yeah, sure. Whatever you want." You pressed play and put the remote away. "Just so you know, it's you though." She says quietly, her chin resting on the top of your head.

You let out a small laugh, "Alright, flirty." AJ slides her hand down to find yours before intertwining your fingers together. "Wanna see what I got you?"

"Definitely." She peeks into her bag of stuff from you, "I love all of these, babe, thank you. What is— oh. These socks are so silly, I love them." You cupped her cheek and pulled her face closer to peck her on the lips, "You know me better than my Mom does, not gonna lie. Everything is spot on. Even the freaking candle I've been eyeing for like two weeks."

"You like?" AJ grins, licking her lips then kissing you this time.

"Are you kidding? Of course, I do." While she snacked on some Sour Patch Kids, you munched on a bag of chips that she got you, both of you now completely focused on the movie playing. You and AJ ended up watching another movie after this before deciding that you guys were bored. "Maybe take a nap." Her Mom suggested while doing her daily reading at the dining table.

"Great idea." AJ took you upstairs by the hand, "See you later, Mom." The older woman laughs, "Sleep tight."

Once AJ got comfortable, you rested your head on her chest while laying stomach down. Her hand tangles in your hair, giving your scalp a massage which was easily lulling you to sleep. "You okay?" She asks, a tiny bit concerned that you were this clingy.

You mumbled unclearly, nodding your head, "Can we bake a cake when we wake up?"

"Okay." AJ agrees readily.

"Promise?" You continued.

"I promise." She answered wholeheartedly.

————

A couple hours later, you and AJ were in the kitchen getting ready to bake a cake. She got the recipe from her Mom, then proceeded to gather the ingredients. While she read off the paper, you snuck a kiss to her shoulder and made her squirm while a smile was plastered onto her face. “Hey, you.” AJ locked eyes with you for a beat, “What ya doin’?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” She asked, playful glint in your eyes as you pulled away and looked at her.

“Kissing me?” She nearly snorted, setting down the bag of flour.

“What’s so funny?” You ask, pushing yourself to sit on the kitchen island.

“Nothing.” She tells you, “You’re cute.”

“You’re also pretty fucking cute yourself.” You cracked a smile, she steps closer to you.

“Charming.” She smiles pulling you close eagerly and pressing a kiss to your lips. You happily welcomed the contact, deepening it quickly. One of her hands rests on your hip while the other cups your cheek, her kisses were soft and warm and comforting— you just couldn’t stop. Her hand brushes against the bag of flour as you leaned back and you got an idea, sticking your hand into the open bag, you got some of the flour and sprinkled it on her face as soon as she broke away. AJ tries to keep a straight face but very quickly failed. “It’s on, baby. It is so on.” She had a devious little smile on her face as she swiftly retaliated, causing a squeal to burst out of your mouth before you jumped off the counter to run away from her.

“Hey!” You gasp, a hand on your hip while you glared at her when she threw a handful of the flour at you and successfully dirtied your shirt.

She couldn’t stop chuckling, “It’s hard to be intimidated by you, honey. You’re so small.”

Brushing it off your shirt as best as you could, you quickly ran for the bag pf flour on the counter to grab some so you could get back at her. She dodged, and hit you again. You yelped, “God, I suck.”

“You started it, you’re not gonna win though.” AJ smirked, “Are you gonna surrender?”

“Yes, but you gotta keep that bag so we both can’t touch it anymore. Whatever we need is already—”

“Girls.” You heard. Both of you turned to look at her mom so quickly. “Oh, no, I’m so sorry.” You gasped, horrified, “We’ll clean this up as soon as we get the cake in the oven.”

“Why do you have your phone up like that?” AJ pointed out, “Were you recording us?”

“Yeah.” She admits, “It was really cute. I’ll send it to you later.”

AJ laughs in disbelief, “Wow. Uh, thanks Mom.” With that being said, AJ grabs the broom and immediately swept up everything. “I’m s—”

“Don’t be.” Her Mom assured, “We all need to have some fun sometimes. I’ll be in my room, but save me a slice.”

“Sure thing.” AJ promised, putting away the broom and dustpan before washing her hands so she could finish mixing the cake batter. Once she put the cake pan into the oven, she focuses completely on you again. “Hi, pretty.” She says. With you leaning against the kitchen island, she places her palms on either side of you and successfully traps you. “Now, where were we?” She grins, tilting your chin up by the finger.

————

🏷️ Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @reneeswif3 @ludoesartnstuffs @pda128

[jaidens]

hi :) if you're comfortable with it, could you write daniel supporting a reader struggling with body image? i'm just having a hard time tonight being nice to myself about the way i look and it would really comfort me <3 no pressure & no worries if not since i know it can be a touchy subject ! thanks 🤍

And When I Break, It's In A Million Pieces

pairing [s] : daniel larusso x reader

warning [s] : self-talk abt \ image | crying | my overall warning is if this topic may upset anyone in any way, you get this warning and you don't have to read it.

a/n [s] : hey sweetheart! I'm fully comfortable with anything besides obvious triggers. we all have hard nights and I want you to remember you're beautiful/handsome in every way. Now here's some Danny.

You were trying.

That's all you recognized about your feelings.

Nobody's way of healing is the exact same as everyone else's, and that's what you told yourself. However, the damned mirror that stood in front of you, pulling you to nitpick at yourself. It started off simple, hand running across certain parts of your face that you didn't particularly enjoy about yourself.

Then it escalated to seeing spots that nobody would have noticed, but you did. Your mom would always mention how observant you were whenever you were younger. Who knew it would follow you to your middle school and highschool years of your life?

Daniel had an idea about your feelings. He caught you crying under the bleachers one day and he held you until everything felt better. That's what you wished you had right at this moment. Tears prick your vision, blurring out the figure in the mirror.

Then, it suddenly hits you, Daniel was coming over soon for a movie night. Your room is a mess with clothes you tossed on the floor. A small knock churns through your door and you speak out a quick, “Who is it?!” You hear a small cough and out follows, “Daniel, baby! I brought the snacks you wanted…!”

You smile at the door and tell him to come in, which he quickly follows and throws the various snacks and candy on your bed. He walks up behind you and runs his hands on your arms. “How are you doing? I heard your Ma say that you weren't feeling the best.” Daniel's lip gently kisses behind your ear, making you smile softly and out your head on his shoulder.

“Oh. It was nothing. I just had a small cold.” Daniel nods and you turn out of his arms to grab the remote. The TV is playing Sixteen Candles, a movie you saw with Daniel on your eighth month anniversary. Inherently, you would have squeezed into Daniel's arms and held onto him as tight as possible.

However, now how you had seen yourself, you decided to stay a few inches apart from him with your legs pulled to your chest. Thirty minutes into the movie, Daniel noticed something was off. The way you pulled your body closer together and felt the lump pull back into your throat again.

He gives you your favorite pack of candy, but you only take two bites and throw it to the side. It's unusual for you, but he shrugged it off. He knows that you might still be a little sick. He lays closer to you, head on your arm and you scratch his dark brown hair. He's paying attention to the screen and you, smiling at both whenever he looks around.

The movie ends, the credits rolling across the screen whenever he flicks your lamp on. He sits up, getting closer to you. “You seem off,” Daniel tells you, hand falling gently against your thigh, rubbing against the shorts you were clad in. You knew the real Daniel. The Daniel that held onto you and cried after Johnny ridiculed him just enough. The Daniel that went in the middle of the road to save a kitten and raised it. “Are you sure you're feeling okay? Not just sickness wise.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, and you try and swallow down the lump that makes everything feel worse. The tears that pool up again are prominent as you try to let out some words. “I—I have been having some trouble..” Quietly calls from your mouth, tears getting heavy and falling from your eyes. “Do you actually think I look good? Be honest.” You ask him, staring into the brown eyes that begin darting across your face to admire it.

“You want me to be honest?” Daniel asks while his tongue darts out to lick his lips. “I think you're the prettiest thing ever. You're hot. Definitely hot. And ya’ got these gorgeous eyes that make me swoon.” You smile at him gently and connect your lips against his parted ones. His hand falls on your neck before you both pull away. “You know, when I lived in Jersey, I used to get picked on a whole lot by this guy named Tony. I let myself get down by it and Ma would have to carry me home because I tried to punch him. Not the best idea. That was the second time I got my ass kicked by someone.”

You laugh slightly before laying further in his arms. You kiss him again, getting closer to him. “I just, compare myself to everyone else. Especially in all those magazines. I read them and see the girls with the long legs and they're as tiny as barbie dolls. I just can't help thinking that I'm not your type.” You admitted to him as you wrapped your arms against your stomach again.

“You are definitely my type. I think you're real beautiful. I always love your outfits and the way you need to stare at every item you see in the mall. You're my favorite person in the whole world. Mr. Miyagi asked me one day, “Daniel-San, have you ever been in love?” and I told him you were the one I was gonna marry, y'know.” His confession makes you melt in his arms. Daniel wasn't the best at explaining his feelings, and you had recognized that early one. So, the way he was talking was new to you.

“You’re so sweet. Always making m’ feel so good. I love you, Danny.” You tell him, feeling his arms wrap around you. “I love you too beautiful. Now, can you scratch my hair again. That makes me feel so tired.” He asks you, giving his head to you and laying in your arms.

You know you can always count on Daniel to make you feel better on bad days. However, now he knows how to take care of you better and the right things to say to you.

[bangtansmauyeondan]

THIRTY-FIVE | S03 E05 - A Second Chance

Pairing: In-Studio Director!Jungkook x Stage Director!Fem Reader

Genre: rivals au, social media au, frenemies to lovers, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, crack.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: explicit language, mentions of abandonment, alcohol consumption, harmless scheming, dare, bet, smut

Summary: It has always been the battle of the best between you and your college rival, Jungkook. What happens when years later, you cross paths again working for the same network broadcasting company, and the competitive flame is rekindled? Well, a whole new drunken bet that determines your futures wasn’t in your line of vision but here you are… and you have until 35.

SERIES TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @babyboo22 @dionysusenthusiast @luaspersona @timelessruins @royallyjjk @sandraviolante-blog @quarter-life-crisis2 @jub-jub @pb-n-juju @jeonxgoogiee @sugaluvmyg @lookformyvoice @fairy-jaykay @juju-227592 @such-a-wh0re @hoseoksluv89 @exhibitachol @kleirielk @era-genius @hyuneyeon

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @jinsquishes @persphonesorchid @thatbangtanjagiya @pamzn @wrmnssoul @ygbubs @halesandy @jayhope88 @bnagtanx1306 @pinkseokchim @busanbby-jjk @babycandy111

•••

•••

The Seoul Institute of Art & Design’s fiftieth anniversary concert was about to come to an end, and to say that you’re satisfied with the outcome of the event was an understatement. There were a lot of people in attendance, alumni and current students alike. Rkive 360 was able to book the biggest names in the local music scene to participate in the event; one of the artists even graduated from SIAD, which made the experience even more meaningful.

You were so busy looking around, gazing up at the audience that you didn’t notice Jungkook and Mingyu talking in hushed voices a few feet away from you. Not even a minute later, Mingyu wrapped his arm around your shoulders and patted your head endearingly, “Having fun, boss?”

“Meh…” You tilted your head, shrugging off Mingyu’s arm.

“Tsss… liar!”

“Okay, yeah, a bit!” You giggled, and it sounded like music to Jungkook’s ears who’s standing right behind you. “I’m just a little tired.”

Jungkook cleared his throat behind you, getting your attention, “Why don’t we take a breather outside? It’s getting quite stuffy in here.”

“Yeah,” Mingyu agreed. “I stepped out for a smoke earlier and the campus ground is pretty empty. You’ll enjoy the silence and the fresh air.” He took the radio from your hand and clipped it to his jeans, “Go with Jungkook. I’ll wrap this up.”

“Are you sure?” The offer sounded appealing to you.

“Yeah, go,” Mingyu nodded at the direction of the stage door. “I got this.”

“Let’s go, Yn…” Jungkook chimed in.

“Okay, let’s go…”

Mingyu has never been more correct. You immediately felt the gentle breeze of the wind on your skin the moment you stepped out of the packed arena into the empty campus grounds. From your viewpoint, you could see the rows of the sorority and the fraternity houses, the student dormitories, the art exhibit hall, and the lecture buildings that shaped you all up and honed your skills.

“Wow…” You whispered in awe as you walked by Jungkook’s side, looking around at your alma mater. “Has it really been more than ten years since we graduated?”

“Hmn…” he nodded, doe eyes also looking around.

“I wonder if our professors are still here… and if they still remember us.”

“Of course, they remember us. We were Roger and Rafa back then.” He laughed, scrunching up his nose like a bunny at the memory of your college rivalry. The tennis reference wasn’t lost on you since that’s the only sport you enjoy.

“You’re forgetting we had Mingyu…”

“Oh yeah, the Novak to our Roger and Rafa.” Jungkook brisk-walked ahead of you to that familiar curb where you have last seen each other before the graduation. “Hey, do you remember when…” he stuttered, he wanted to ask you if you remembered your kiss but he didn’t want to get ahead of himself too much.

“Huh?”

“Do you remember when Joshua’s parents threw him a party in our frat house as if it’s THEIR house and invited everyone?”

“Yeah!” You smiled fondly at the memory. How could you forget? Of course, you remember that night so well. “Definitely a fun night, one of my fondest memories.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook’s cheeks warmed up at your words. The lamppost where he kissed you came into view just then and Jungkook stopped in his tracks causing you to stop walking as well. “What is your fondest memory here, YN?”

You stepped closer to the lamppost, grazing the chipping paint with your dainty fingers, and Jungkook’s heart started ramming loudly inside his chest, silently wishing you remember the kiss as fondly as he does. “You see that exhibit hall?” You asked softly, cocking your eyebrows to the direction of the glass building across the street. “In the first year that they asked me to join the exhibit for the Arts Festival, I was the youngest girl and the only girl in Film too, but I got the most recognition.”

Jungkook couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Your side profile was softly illuminated by the light coming from the lamppost, and your eyes were glimmering as you stared ahead at the exhibit hall.

“Yeah, I remember that arts festival…” He made a show of opening his arms out with his eyes closed, filling his lungs up with air before exhaling heavily, trying to get rid of the nerves before saying the following words to you out loud. “I tried to ask you out on a date on its first day.” He slipped his hands in his pockets before looking down on the ground, swaying from side-to-side.

You leaned against the lamppost, and you weren’t sure whether it’s the cold metal hitting your skin or Jungkook’s words that sent a cold shiver down your spine. “What?” You eyed Jungkook over a dubious expression. “What do you mean you tried to ask me out on a date?”

Jungkook furrowed his brows, a physical evidence that the wheels in his head were turning. He didn’t know how to explain what went on back then without sounding like a complete idiot. “Um…” he cleared his throat. “Yeah. i was going to ask you out but i ended up accidentally insulting you and well, you’ve hated me—”

You cut him off with a snort and the color drained from his face, a clear indication of his panic that he’s still being misunderstood twelve years later.

“You meant to ask me but insulted me instead?” You couldn’t help but laugh even though you noticed how hard your heart just started beating.

Jungkook’s shoulders slumped and for a hot second he looked like a college boy again. “You aren’t supposed to laugh about it,” he whined with a pout, trying to meet your eyes. “It was traumatizing for me.”

You blinked at him for a moment, heart still racing and it’s getting harder to ignore. “For you?!” You stared at him incredulously, “How about for me? I was the one who was insulted!”

“No!” he quickly shook his head, the same pout still on his lips. “For me! I had to somehow come back from that moment when I had such a huge crush on you!”

Now it’s your turn to shake your head, “Of course Jeon Jungkook would make this a competition!" You huffed out quietly before asking, “So okay, you didn’t mean to insult me back then?”

“Of course not! I didn’t know how to fix it and my feelings and then… Then of course I kissed you and—"

“—Wait, wait, wait, wait…” you stared at him dumbfounded, blinking repeatedly. “You….you remember kissing me?"

Jungkook tilted his head in slight surprise and confusion before breaking into a more serious expression, eyes completely sucking you in, “You think that’s something I would forget?” he asked, voice soft and quiet.

A beat of silence fell between the two of you, but there’s a whole marching band and fanfare making all sorts of noise in your hearts.

You leaned your head back onto the lamppost but your eyes stayed on him. “So…” you took a breath, “You wanted to ask me out at that time?”

Looking at him had always been so easy but everytime his eyes would meet yours, you wanted to look away. But you didn’t, and neither did he.

“Yeah,” he sighed out.

You have a subtle nod, swallowing down the sudden nerves because your heart was clattering inside of your rib cage. “And….just at that time?”

Jungkook didn’t want to overthink, but he thought he understood what you were insinuating.

“Um,” he rocked back on his heels, “At that time? Yeah…?”

“Yeah, but was that the only time, or…?”

“Well,” he gulped. “Since I kissed you later on, then probably not.” He answered simply.

“Yeah but…” you gave a vague gesture with your hands.

Jungkook, ever the expert that he is for mimicking, did exactly just that. “But what?”

“But… you know.” You gestured around again, rolling your eyes for good measure too.

“I know what?”

Letting your frustrations get the better of you, you stepped closer to him and rested your hands on your waist. “Why didn’t you ask me out again?”

Jungkook suddenly looked antsy, eyes going around before he mumbled, “How could I? You already hated me.”

“But you still—“

A small smile played on his lips “—why? Do you want me to ask you out again?”

“I don’t mean NOW! I mean, like,” you crossed your arms over your chest, your heart now thumping loudly in your ears. “I was just saying…“

Jungkook boldly took a step closer to you, making you take a step back until your back met the lamppost again. You’re forced to tilt your head up slightly to Jungkook’s big doe eyes boring into your almond-shaped ones. “What were you saying then?” He whispered, his hot breath subtly hitting your cheek.

“I…”

“Tell me, Yn…”

“I just mean… You should have tried again…”

Jungkook studied your face before his fingers were on your jaw and he’s slowly guiding your head to face him properly.

“Would you have said yes?”

You felt the urge to turn your head again, or to even slide your eyes to the side but you couldn’t— not with his fingers on your jaw and his gaze sucking you in again.

“JK—“

“Would you have? Back then?” He cut you off, his voice ever so gentle. “At that time, I mean.”

“I’m not sure.” You answered honestly but with the way your heart was racing, you didn’t think that’s the question you wanted him to ask you. Jungkook gave you a small smile, his cheeks growing rosier. “Then maybe that timing wasn’t what was meant to be.” He shrugged, timid smile still on his face. “I really, really liked you and—“

“So you don’t anymore?” You had the guts to ask.

Jungkook chuckled to himself, his face burning up. “That’s kind of what you’ve been getting at right?”

The sudden wobble in his tone gave his nerves away. You couldn’t help but wonder if his heart is going as crazy as yours.

“Well I don’t know what I am getting at.” You admit nonchalantly.

“Then I also don’t know.” Jungkook said with a slight chuckle, biting his lip and tonguing his lipring.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Yes you do, so just say it.”

He narrowed his own eyes in response, “Say what?”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously!” Jungkook finally dropped his hand from your face. “What am I supposed to say?”

You averted your gaze away from him, your own pout forming. “Well…” you dropped your arms to your side and made another vague gesture. “You know.”

“I know?”

“Yes.”

Jungkook’s face only grew redder, “Wow I have already confessed so much yet—“

“What exactly have you confessed?” you mumbled, still averting his gaze. “You had a crush on me years ago but…” you gestured around again but jungkook quickly grabbed your wrist to stop you.

You’ve never been one to beat around the bush, but this is new. There’s something different between you both right now.

“YN, can you look at me?” He asked, and you managed to get lost in his eyes again. He had his lips caught between his teeth as he took a deep breath, bracing himself for another confession. “Okay,” he started. “I was so into you I… I asked you… Wait no, I tried to… Well, I failed at…” he started mumbling his words. You’re a hundred percent sure that if you touched his cheeks, your fingertips would burn. “Um, I kissed you that time and now here I am, remembering that time and well, and also…” The words are shameless as they poured out of his mouth, like he wasn’t fully aware of what he was trying to say.

You found it cute, that a grown man like him would be that affected. It’s endearing even. You watched his lips move up and down through his speech but you’ve drowned out his words because your focus wasn’t on them anymore. You finally ripped your eyes off his mouth and back to his eyes as you tried to make out his words again.

“So, it wasn’t that simple, how was I supposed to just ask you—“

Your fingers were quick to gently pull him closer to you by his neck. His words completely silenced when your lips met his. Jungkook melted into the kiss for a few seconds, clearly surprised by what you just did. But just like clockwork, he had you up against the lamppost, his hand was once again back on your jaw holding you gently, as he sought permission to deepen the kiss.

He rested his forehead against yours, chuckling and chasing after his breath after you pulled away.

“So if I asked you out again right now… Would you say yes?”

You giggled against his lips before curling your fingers on his shirt, pulling him in and kissing him again— up against the same lamppost where he kissed you on the night before graduation.

•••

A/N: AAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!! Okay, funny story, I was brainstorming with @taestefully-in-luv while I was working on this chapter and she had a suggestion that she was so excited about! Unfortunately she couldn’t put it into words, and we weren’t getting anywhere! So she went, “Okay, let me play around on this one…” After about an hour (yes exactly 1 hour!), she sent me two long a$s messages that contained most of the conversation you just read here! I mean, that’s what friends are for, right?

[my-plastic-life]

Happy 30th anniversary to Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers! Thirty years ago today, the Power Rangers franchise debuted in the United States and was an instant hit. The series was originally a Japanese one titled Kyōryū Sentai Zyuranger. All the footage of the Rangers in their armor, along with any shots of the Zords, battles (yep they used actual cardboard building props for those scenes), and villains is from the original Japanese series (any "monsters" received an English dub). The series was so popular here in the U.S. that Japan began showing it there - with subtitles! Yes, their original material was such a hit that the host country bought the rights to show it there!

Oh, and fun fact - ever notice how only the Pink Ranger has a skirt on her armor? That's because in the original Japanese version, there is only one girl Ranger - the pink one. The Yellow Ranger was a male in the original version, which is why there is no skirt with the armor.

Another fun fact - the Command Center? It's a real place! It's called House of the Book and is located on the American Jewish University's Brandeis-Bardin Campus in Simi Valley, California. So the exterior shots of the Command Center are of an actual building. How cool is that?!

To commemorate this milestone, I dug out some of my most valued possessions. I've had these three dolls since the series was still live on TV. They were literally made for girls, as depicted on their boxes (and only the girls were made, not the guys). These fashion dolls are about the size of a Skipper doll now, and each one came with her respective uniform and a blasting gun, as well as an extra set of clothes for school/everyday wear. All three girls were made - Kimberly, Trini, and Aisha. I was fortunate enough to get Trini before she was replaced by Aisha in the series. RIP to Trini's actress, Thuy Trang, who was sadly killed in a car accident in 2001. (And also RIP to our beloved Green/White Ranger, Jason David Frank, who died just last year).

So I dug the three of them out and got some photos. Kimberly and Trini will remain in their uniforms because it is very difficult to get those boots and gloves back on once they've been taken off. I opted to leave Aisha in her school clothes since there are two Yellow Rangers. Here they are in all their glory! Go, go, Power Rangers!

Kimberly & Trini:

Yes, the helmets are only hollow shells that cover the faces LOL. Hey, it was 1993! The details are still great, though! These days you'd probably get uniforms with the details stickered on...

In the Command Center, without helmets:

Checking out the Viewing Globe - have to keep Angel Grove safe!

And last but not least, Aisha, the successor of Trini!

[ask-icancraft-it]

Amends

(( Hey folks! Happy 11th Fandom Anniversary! This is a fic that I’ve been carving away at for a long time, it was a difficult one to get just right. It’s very slight hurt/comfort, but mostly just two very different people coming together for a genuine conversation. Enjoy! )) -------------------

Laying on his back on the soft, dewey grass, Ralph let out a contented sigh. Quietly, he soaked in the serene atmosphere of his home, reflecting on just how much had changed in the short time since he went ‘Turbo.’

The Nicelanders were being nice, and he had people he could actually call friends. Among those few was Felix, his in-game sworn enemy, and someone Ralph had previously looked towards with envy…Something had clicked down in that sugary jail cell that fateful day, and the thirty year rift between them suddenly didn’t seem so wide.

“You doing okay there, Ralph?”

The wrecker looked up into the worried eyes of the handyman himself. Boy, his ears must have been burning.

“Oh hey,” Ralph smiled, sitting up. “Yeah, I’m good. This is just my ‘Thinkin’ Spot.’”

Felix smiled back, relieved. And as a brief silence passed between them, the wrecker could tell there was something buried behind those blue eyes, clouding them. He’d seen glimpses of this far-off look all week; between quarter drops, at the end of the work day, even in the mornings as everyone took their positions. If there was anyone who looked like they needed some time in the ‘Thinkin’ Spot,’ it was Fix-It Felix Jr.

“May I join you?” The smaller man asked gently.  

“Knock yourself out,” Ralph patted the spot on the lawn next to him. “I was about to say…you seem like you could use it.”

Felix let out a nervous chuckle as he folded his legs to sit. “Is it that obvious?” he said.

“Maybe I’m just observant,” Ralph scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “I’ve done my fair share of ‘people watching’ over the years…But c’mon, you guys already kissed, just ask her out already!”

The 8-bits face grew red, a bashful smile playing on his lips.

“There’s a lot more to it than that Ralph,” Felix sighed.

“Look, here—” Ralph dug his fingers into the chest pocket of his overalls, revealing a large gold medal tied with a blue ribbon. “I’ve been trudging through the woods every night looking for this so I can return it. You can come with me when I do and ask her then.”

The handyman seemed touched.

“That’s a very kind thing for you to do, I’m sure she’ll really appreciate that.”

“Being your wingman?”

“No!” Felix tittered. “Returning the medal!”

When the laughter died down between them, that doleful look came right back where it was on the handyman’s face.

“Ralph, there’s something else…” he bit his lip, head starting to shake slowly as he chose his next words.

“I’m sorry,” Felix said with such sincerity that it threw the wrecker for a loop. “I am so sorry for what you’ve been through these past thirty years.”

Ralph’s chest tightened, a small lump forming in his throat. He didn’t even know he needed to hear those words. A small hand grazed his upper arm.

“And I’m sorry for the part I played in all of it,” Felix continued.

Ralph suppressed some tears as he chuckled.

“C’mon,” he waved it off. “Most people were scared, or just outright hated my guts. But you… you were actually nice to me.”

In fact, he’d taken advantage of that niceness to get into the 30th Anniversary party.

The handyman’s face twisted in a way that was hard to read. “Maybe I was nice,” he sighed. “But I sure wasn’t kind.”

“Okay, you’re losing me here,” Ralph kept his lighthearted manner. For all he knew, those two words meant the same thing.

Felix flashed a bashful smile.

“What I mean is…I’m a people pleaser, Ralph. And that’s something I’ve been more or less told over the years by various friends that I did not listen to…‘till recently.”

Ralph blinked, curious as to where all this was going.

“I want to be liked, and I don't like conflict…I’d do whatever I could to avoid it, even if that meant saying or doing things that maybe I didn’t really agree with.”

Felix briefly looked around, as if he thought someone else might be listening. Ralph remained quiet, eager to hear whatever came next; there was a lot more to the bright-eyed handyman than he thought.

“And among the people I sought to please the most were the Nicelanders… It's part of the job, right? I was scared that night, when you showed up at the penthouse door. But I wasn’t scared of you,” Felix admitted with a gulp.

The wrecker’s brows raised, his mind flooding with the implications of what that meant. “Ralph, I had a whole room of people expecting me to get rid of you, and I…I couldn't. I did the nice thing, and invited you in… But then I just let Gene talk to you the way that he did,” Felix sighed, pulling off his baseball cap and kneading it in his hands. “If I was a kinder person, I wouldn’t have let any of that mess happen. You deserved to be there, just like everyone else.”

Ralph nodded gently, starting to get the gist of what the handyman was trying to say.

“I appreciate the apology, Felix. Just know that what happened at the anniversary party…I don’t hold any of that against you,” the wrecker leaned back on his hands, looking up at the stars. He found his coworker’s honesty inspiring.

“For a really long time, I wanted the life that you have,” he said. “Pies, medals, adoring fans; the whole shebang. I had convinced myself that’s what I needed to be happy.”

Ralph chuckled at himself, shaking his head slightly.

“Turns out I just needed friends. Like Vanellope,” the wrecker pushed his elbow against the handyman sitting beside him playfully. “And like you,” he added with a smile. Felix laughed softly, putting his cap back on.

“Besides, if I were the Good Guy, I’d have Gene hanging around me all day. No thanks.”

“He is a handful,” the handyman sighed. “He’s warming up to you though.”

“Oh yeah, real cozy,” Ralph’s voice dripped with sarcasm. A brief silence passed between the two. Felix took in a breath and held it a moment as he knotted his fingers together.

“When you went ‘Turbo,’ my life was turned completely on its head,” he spoke fondly. “And you showed me what being good really looks like.”

“I did?” The wrecker was genuinely surprised. The handyman nodded.

“Ralph, dragging me out into the arcade woke me up to just how complacent I’ve been…I don’t want to be the person I was on the night of our anniversary. If you’ve got a problem that needs fixing, or need someone to talk to…I’m here.”

“Thanks, Felix. That means a lot,” Ralph cleared his throat to try to keep those strong emotions at bay. “And, y’know…the same goes for you too. This has been really nice, talking to you like this.”

“It has,” the handyman agreed. “I hope I didn’t disrupt your evening too much, this is your spot after all.”

“N-no, no, please, come and go as you like,” Ralph stumbled over his words. “To be honest, I think I like it better when it’s shared.”

Felix had moved to get up, but slowly settled back down with the wrecker’s reassurance.

“If you don’t mind me asking…” the handyman twiddled his thumbs. “What were you thinking about before I came along?”

“Oh, a lot of things,” Ralph puttered, laying back on the lawn. “The kid, you, the Nicelanders. Just how much has changed, and how nice it’s been…”

A gentle smile crossed Felix’s face. “Good,” he said as he joined his friend in laying down, looking up into the night sky.

“And,” Ralph sighed, once more pulling the Medal of Heroes from his chest pocket. “Trying to figure out what to say when I give this back…That lady you like, scares me. And I don’t think she likes me very much…”

“Ooh, she was not happy,” Felix giggled. “But… I think you’ll find that she respects your efforts to fix the mess you made, and the heroism you showed. You saved Vanellope, and all of ‘Sugar Rush.’ I don’t believe Tamora was going to blow the exit with the two of you inside; that would have killed me…so we would have been toast along with the rest of the arcade if you hadn’t—”

The handyman paused, reeling slightly from the thoughts of what could have been.

“You’re our hero, Ralph,” Felix said sincerely. “I hope she lets you keep it.”

The larger man was humbled by those words, taking a moment to brush his thumb over the word ‘Hero’ engraved on the medals surface.

“Ah, even if she doesn’t…” he said, reaching just under his shirt collar to reveal his handmade cookie medal from Vanellope. “This is all I’ll ever need.”

“That is a good one,” the handyman concurred. “How is she, by the way?”

“She’s doing great, the gamers love her,” Ralph grinned. “Y’know, you can join me in watching the Roster Races sometime—Ooh! You could ask Sarge to come too, it’ll make for a good first date.”

“Raaaalph,” Felix droned with a lighthearted groan. “Alright, I’ll go with you and ask her.”

“Oh thank the Mods,” the wrecker let out a sigh of relief. “I think she’s less likely to punch me if you’re there.”

“So that’s why you’re so adamant,” the handyman rolled his eyes.

“Part of it,” Ralph admitted. “But I also think you two would be good together.”

“Thanks, brother. I hope so…” Felix smiled, feeling lighter. “I think the four of us made for a pretty good team.”

“Yeah,” the large man agreed, his heart full as he looked up to the stars. “I think so too.”

[naaaaayyyhaay]

GGE2022 ;)

Hello!

A GGE2022 for @imikhailotakeyouian , definitely a stickler for details and an imperfect perfectionist so i apologize for the long wait😭 I really hope you enjoy your gift tho!! (i do intend to post it on AO3 too, so i'll come back and link it here when i get the chance💫)

And a very big thank you to @gallavichthings for hosting this years exchange❣️

Rated: M

Words: 3,330

Prompt: "Ian finally takes Mickey to the beach

Or

Social media!AU

Or

Any AUs/anything Gallavich makes me happy really"

Tags: fluff, toothrottingfluff, jealousy, jealous!ian, domesticity,postcannon, soft!mickey

    Mickey's head is killing him, his eyes are lidded and tinged red from constant rubbing and his whole body feels like it's moving through a thick jello, leaving him weighted and slow. He had Ian to blame for this. To blame for his excessive tiredness. He was awoken this morning at 5am to an extra giddy Ian, rushed in the shower, and forced to leave by 6am(without a morning quickie he might add). And this all would've been unforgivable, an absolute injustice, if Mickey wasn't about to board a flight to Jamaica to go lounge drunk on their famed nude beaches with his very sexy husband Ian for their anniversary. And even if he tried, he couldn’t deny it, the fact that Ian is just so thoughtful. Surprising Mickey with an impromptu beach vacay for the second time in a row now. So as Mickey entered the airport with an utterly delighted husband hot on his trail like an overly excited puppy he couldn’t help but to think back to their first attempt at a beach trip… 

    "Mickey... Mick... get up. C'mon sleepy head."

    "Gallagher” Mickey grumbled as he fought back a yawn and squinted through sleepy eyes. “It's like four in the morning man, can't this wait?"

    "Mick it's literally twelve in the afternoon."

    "Oh. Same difference." he muttered as he rolled over and nuzzled his pillow attempting to drift back off into sleep. 

    "Mick seriously, get up." Ian laughed as he shook his husband and wrapped his arms around him squeezing him tight. 

    "I swear I'll make it worth your while.” He says voice is sultry and inviting, practically dripping with honey.

    "You really waking me up for a morning quickie Mr. Milkovich." Mickey replied with playfulness evident in his tone. 

    "No Mr. horny, I've got a surprise for you." He said, flicking Mickey on the nose and then hushing it with a soft kiss. 

    "A sexy surprise?" Mickey asked incredulously. 

    "Well... sorta," said Ian. 

    "This is n o t a sexy surprise." Mickey said, as he stared at what looked to be the world's most polluted beach. Or y'know just your regular average Southside public beach.

    “Yeah I didn’t really expect it to be this…” Ian trailed off disgust and a bit of disappointment written plain on his face. The wind was loud in their ears, whistling the classic tune of ‘Get The Fuck Back Inside, It’s Too Damn Cold For This Shit’. A tune Mickey never ignored.

   “Hey freckles, just in case you didn’t get the memo, it’s like below zero temperatures outside.”

    “No it’s not, Mick. It’s like thirty degrees at worst.” Ian shot back.

    “Okay, well I don’t know how you plan on doing this beach day at the start of March, genius.” Said Mickey.

    “Don’t worry, we can just come back in the summer.” Mickey said, discerning his husband's disappointment and pulling him into an embrace mostly to console him but also to steal some of his body heat. Ian didn’t mind, what Mickey didn’t know was that his thoughts were already elsewhere.

    “Yeah okay, you may be right.” Ian huffed a small laugh, finally giving in to the shiver that he was holding back as if somehow that would mean admitting defeat and accepting that it actually was in fact very cold.

    “I promise I’ll make it up to you, Mick.” and that was the end of that. Or so Mickey thought.

One Year Later.

   "This is gonna be great, Mick!" Ian exclaims, beaming ear to ear after fighting back another yawn. 

    "We're gonna go straight to the beach!" He has one arm wrapped around his short thug of a husband and in the other holds both his and Mickey's carry-on. It wasn’t a short impromptu vacation that Ian had planned at the very last minute, but it was much better. He figured their armed transportation business was doing pretty well and they had saved up a ton of extra money in the bank, and Mickey had just been working so hard with all the managing and security work and shit that hey, why not give themselves a little treat, right? 

    "We gotta check in and unpack first, dummy." Mickey says with mock annoyance. He hates to admit it but all Ian’s excitement was actually quite adorable. It reminded him of how Ian was back in their earlier days when they had just first started seeing each other in secret, fooling around in the back of the Kash&Grab, and sneaking underneath the bleachers. 

    "I know that already, sweetheart." Ian coos, ever since the start of their anniversary month he had picked up this funny little habit of responding to Mickey's attitude with over the top affection. Mick playfully bops him on the nose before they board their plane and settle into their seats. Without even waiting for any of the other passengers to board Mickey reclines his seat and places a sleeping mask askew over his eyes, planning to drift off into snooze-ville before the plane takes off. He takes one last peak at his studious Ian seated beside him, nose already buried in some book, before pulling his mask securely into place and dozing off. Well, dozing off for about five minutes before he was so rudely interrupted by a quiet 

    "Excuse me."

    For god knows what reason, some stupid mix up with the tickets or whatever, Mickey was in the wrong seat and some fuckhead standing in front of Ian would like him to move. Or at least that's what he’s gathered from listening in to the conversation happening right beside him with some stranger and his husband. 

    “Absolutely not.” Mickey deadpans. Believe it or not he actually didn’t mean to come off as aggressive for once in his life, but Ian had woken him up waaaay too early. Trip or not Milkovich’s don’t get up before noon on a weekend, and he was already nicely settled into his seat and too comfy to migrate down the plane having to brush shoulders with a bunch of randos with morning breath probably. 

    “C’mon, Mick.” Ian sighs, already exasperated. 

    “It’s only a couple seats down, let’s just move.” He says as he nudges Mickey’s shoulder, probably giving him the ‘please let’s not make a scene just this once’ puppy dog eyes, but his magic can’t work on his husband this time seeing as how Mickey still has his eyes shielded with his sleepmask. 

    “M’not moving Gallagher. Already comfy. Can’t shithead just sit in the already free seat?” Mickey asserts. 

    “Not moving from my window seat.” He repeats once more and crosses his arms over his chest in defiance.

    “Actually it has nothing to do with wanting a window seat, as it happens I actually prefer the aisle.” Came the stranger’s voice. 

    “It’s just that they seated me in a window seat right at the front, with all this legroom and empty space and it’s making me a little nervous.” He forces out a chuckle, obviously embarrassed but still trying his best to make light of the situation. 

    “Like the opposite of claustrophobia I guess, if that makes any sense?” The strange man laughs. 

    “No, it actually doesn't.” Mickey grumbles.

    “I’m a nervous flyer and I guess it just makes me feel safer to be compressed.” Suddenly Ian’s body language shifts, he sits up right and turns to face the stranger. 

    “Say no more, I’ll switch with you.” Ian declares like he’s doing the guy some big favor, but Mickey doesn’t need to look at his husband to know that there is a goofy little grin plastered on his face. But Mickey does in fact dramatically rip off his night mask to shoot Ian a death glare. One that says ‘how dare you abandon me?!’without even having to utter a word. 

    “Wait, so you’re giving up a window seat and extra leg room?” He asks, almost in disbelief. The younger skinny stranger nods with extra enthusiasm, as if he was a salesman trying to seal a deal. 

    “You’re welcome to join me at any point, darling.” Ian replies all coy and shit as he closes his book and shimmies out of his seat and down the cramped plane aisle, just to end up sitting about two seats in front of his husband. 

    ‘We can get through this right?’ Mickey thinks to himself as anxiety, and of course a total fucking stranger, start to settle in. `We've been separated by bars, by Terry, and even the Mexican border! There’s no way I’m panicking over a couple of plane seats!’ But here they are, literally just some old couple reading in silence and a jaded looking woman with her equally moody teenaged daughter placed in the rows between them. And on the inside Mickey’s mind is racing with thoughts like…  ‘How could my husband do this to me? Wow, the ultimate betrayal. Now I have to move… but I’m already so comfy. You know what, he’ll just have to sit all by his lonesome then. Not my fault he decided to ditch me. Now I’m stuck sitting next to some weirdo for the rest of this dumbass flight, so serves him right anyways.’ But as the minutes pass Mickey surprisingly lets his curiosity get the better of him and he moves his night mask a little to get a peak at the so-called weirdo in question. And as he glances over he meets eyes with a young man who is practically swallowed up by his own large gray hoodie which almost distracts him from the man’s surprising striking features. Dark green eyes, razor-edged cheekbones, what seemed to be a small brown beauty mark above the left side of his upper lip and… Wow, what a crazy fucking coincidence, because as the stranger turned to meet Mickey’s gaze his hoodie pulls back just enough revealing fiery auburn hair. ‘Dude is totally stunning and a redhead?!’ Mickey thinks. ‘Oh my god he's just like a younger version of my husband!’ And as they share a quick smile Mickey is again reminded of how totally hopelessly in love with Ian he really is. ‘I wonder if he's a natural redhead..? Well, we're gonna be on this plane ride for a while so… there’s probably no shame in asking, right?’

    Ian on the other hand, who was at one point as cool as a cucumber waiting for Mickey to get up and switch seats, is now a bit of a nervous wreck. Because ‘Why hasn't Mickey switched seats yet? Could he possibly be distracted? Maybe I should get up and remind him, or-’ But as he finally decides to go back and beg his husband to come join him the plane departs and he is forced to try to make peace with the fact that he won’t be riding beside Mickey. And yeah he might be more than a little upset, but then he thinks about how Mickey must be annoyed with his new plane mate, so he tries to focus and listen to see if he can hear Mickey being irritated by the poor talkative fool. “Oh a redhead, is that all natural or you get that outta ten dollar Revlon box?” He hears his husband chuckle. ‘A redhead?!’ Ian thinks, his brain sounding off alarms. ‘Don’t be ridiculous Ian, that doesn’t mean anything.’ he thinks to himself as he tries his best not to, but he can’t help the red hot burn of jealousy throbbing deep in his chest no matter how hard he tries to fight it back with logic. With each hour passing he feels his anger slowly start to bubble to the surface and just as he's about to explode the pilot announces that the plane will be landing and soon passengers will have started to depart. So out of the "greater good of his heart" Ian ends up deciding that he's just being paranoid and that the guy chatting up his husband is in fact just being friendly and nothing more. So Ian decides to let it go, it’s not like he wants to ruin this first trip alone with his husband anyway. So when the plane lands he makes sure to love up on Mickey from the airport all the way to the hotel check in and and to the beach. 

    "I'm telling you Mick, you need to reapply your suntan lotion! It's been two hours, and the bottle says to apply at least every hour!" Ian nags. And yeah he nags, but it’s with love, so sue him!

    "Nah, they just want you to buy more of their shit. Anyhow, I'm not as pale as your ghostly ass, you should be the one worried about sunscreen here Mr. I burn like a vampire in the daylight.” Mickey chuckles. 

    “And if you don't come here, you're gonna miss seeing this crab, man. Little guy’s fascinating! Think he's looking for a new house!" Mickey babbles, crouched down in the sand, a half smoked joint pitched between his fingers. He was already a shade tanner and his eyes were a lazy tinge of red. Mickey was so beautiful like this. Relaxed, a little buzzed, and off in his own little world no longer burdened by the traumas that once plagued their love like Terry or prison or shitty sadistic PO’s.

    "I want to see him too, baby, but you're gonna bitch all night if you get burned! Come on, it'll only take a sec."

    "Nah, man. That shit s'all sticky and cold. It fucks with my high, and I might miss when Mr. Krabs finds his new house! If I burn then I burn, bitch!" 

    "You named the crab Mr. Krabs?” Ian giggles as he stares at the little guy who seems to have stolen his husband’s full attention. 

    “Not Shelly or Pincher or somethin’, you’re really going with Mr. Krabs?" Ian laughs. 

    “Yep.” Mickey says grinning up at his big orange giant. 

    “How original, Mick.” snickers Ian.

    “Hey, I’m on vacation. I don’t need to be creative on vacation. I don’t need to be anything on vacation but good and high.” He takes another drag of his joint before placing it in the tiny ashtray he brought along with him and then grabs Ian and pulls him down onto him, startling and exciting him in the process. 

    “Well high, and on top of my husband of course.” the Milkovich says with that same flirty tone of voice that never fails to make Ian’s stomach do summersaults. And it takes every ounce of self control in his body to tear himself from Mickey when his phone rings and he knows that it’s either another goddamn ‘family emergency’, or it’s something work related that ‘just can’t wait’.

    So, much to Mickey's dismay, Ian sits in the sand and answers a call from Kev regarding the transportation business while Mickey takes it upon himself to avoid work at all costs and nap beside Ian looking all cute. And by god’s name it takes everything in Ian to not just stare in awe at his beautiful husband laying face down drooling just a little on his beach chair looking very much double cheeked up in his tight blue swim trunks. ‘So blue that they almost match the blue of his damn near mesmerizing eyes, but not quite because the blue in his eyes is just too beautiful that no man-made creation could ever recreate that specific color that is Mickey and oh shit he's staring, and oh shit he's definitely waking up now…’

    “Hey, there,” Mickey murmured. 

    “Hey, sunshine,” was all Ian could say. Still a bit stunned by Mickey’s unwitting beauty.

    “Sunshine?” Mickey raises a brow.

    "What's up with all the mushy gushy shit, huh lover?" he asks with a sleepy laugh, finally deciding to call it out. 

     In response, Ian reaches up to brush his fingers against his husband’s cheek, his once pale face now a bit bronzed and heated by the sunlight spread over them.

    “You just got a bit of sun on your face, thas all. Also chair marks,” Ian moves his hand to the opposite side, feeling the faint lines pressed into his lover’s skin.

    “Meanwhile you look like you’ve been very busy, real important business I see.” Mickey laughs. 

    “You should get some rest there, Red. Must be real tired after all that hard work playing in the sand and whatnot.” but Ian knows it’s not an insult, nor is his tone heated. He actually sounds content. So Ian huffs a small laugh in response and wraps his long arms around Mickey’s waist, burying his face into the soft part of his stomach and purring like a cat in the sun.

    “Thank you for your concern, but a nap is the last thing I wanna do right now.” He mutters into Mickey’s stomach.

    “Ohh, so you trying to get back to the hotel then Mr. Milkovich.” Mickey asks with a smirk. And Ian doesn’t even honor such a stupid question with such an obvious answer, and instead he grabs Mickey by the hips and hoists him up out of his beach chair and kisses him with a burning desire.

    “Okay. Hotel. Now.” Mickey says, lips bitten and red, eyes a little glazed over with lust.

    Hand in hand they walk along the sandy beach, enjoying the warm sun and the cool ocean breeze, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore providing a soothing background noise as they make their way back to the resort. "This is amazing," Ian says, interrupting the silence and smiling as he looks out at the ocean. "I can't believe we're actually here." and somehow Mickey knows that he’s not just talking about being here on the beach. But here. Together at last. 

    Eventually they make it to the hotel and quickly they rush their way through the entrance and make a beeline straight for the elevators, but before they can even make it past the hotel bar Ian is suddenly blind sighted by his actual worst nightmare. They’re greeted by none other than Mickey’s plane mate. 

    “Mickey? Hey! How’s it going?” He smiles brightly, too damn bright if you asked Ian, and makes his way over completely uninvited. 

    “Oh, hey. Brett? Right?” Mickey replies, thumbing at his brow. 

    “Brandon actually.” The man laughs, seemingly unfazed by Mickey's lack of gentility. 

    “So… this is crazy huh, I thought I had seen the last of you. Thankfully I was wrong though.” says Brett or Brandon or whoever. 

     “What’re you doing right now? I mean, I am working but I could definitely make you a drink. My shift ends in a bit actually.” And this time Ian knows that he's blatantly flirting with Mickey and there’s just no way he can hold his anger back now.

    "He's married! To me! He's my husband!" Ian exclaims angrily, red in the face, a scorching rage igniting in his emerald eyes and permeating through his entire body as he grabs Mickey by the hand before getting in between him and plane guy. All it takes is one look and Mickey can see it in Brett’s(or Brandon’s or whoever’s) face that he has no intention of pushing back against Ian, and he watches as the poor guy basically folds up into a shell of himself and just embarrassedly backs off. So Ian doesn’t wait a second and finally drags Mickey into the elevator and up to their hotel room but on the way up Mickey just can’t help but to tease him.

    "Don't know what came over ya back there, firecrotch." Mickey laughs breathlessly, lips pressed lightly into that spot on Ian’s neck that he knows just drives him wild. Ian groans and kneads the thick flesh of Mickey’s ass fitted perfectly into his palms. He places a couple more wet kisses to his neck and up his jawline before biting his lip and pulling back to look at the absolute mess he’s made of his husband. 

    "Can't say I didn't like it though."

[spicykaraage]

LET’S GO! ~2nd Anniversary~ - Story Translation

[Prologue]

Kaidoh: Jesus… You wouldn’t stop squealing in your sleep…

Kirihara: I’m telling you, I don’t talk in my sleep!

Hiyoshi: We should’ve recorded it. Physical evidence.

Zaizen: Man, you must really not like your Vice Captain, huh…

Kirihara: …Wha. What’d I even say…?

Hiyoshi: Nothing. You just said you don’t talk in your sleep, didn’t you.

Kaidoh: Hurry it up. We missed morning practice ‘cause of Kirihara.

Zaizen: Yeah. If we don’t hurry, everyone’s gonna take all the courts.

Kirihara: Come on, tell me what I said! Huh…

Kirihara: Hey, there’s something posted on the board.

Kaidoh: …A “Red vs. White Competition”? What?

Zaizen: Looks like all of us are on the red team.

Hiyoshi: Who decided on this? The red team’s mostly first and second years, and the white team’s all third years.

Kirihara: So what, is this gonna be a singing contest or something…? Huh…

Kaidoh: You’re an idiot.

Hiyoshi: You’re an idiot.

Zaizen: You’re an idiot.

Kirihara: Well, there’s no proof that it isn’t is there!?

Tsuge: Hey, you all!

Kirihara: Whoa…

Tsuge: Get onto the bus in the parking lot right now! And don’t forget your rackets.

Zaizen: …Bus?

Hiyoshi: And bring our rackets…?

Kaidoh: They just love sending us off to different places, don’t they…

[Episode 1]

Fuji: This is a pretty big stadium.

Tezuka: There’s no tennis courts here…

Yukimura: They did tell us to bring our rackets, though. So we’re most likely gonna end up playing tennis anyway.

Shiraishi: Unless… the courts can grow out from under us…

Ryoma: Hey, look up at the sky.

Eagles: …

Fuji: …Those are eagles. There’s a lot of them up there.

Ryoma: I already don’t like this.

Mifune: Welcome to the party, brats!

Yukimura: Ah, over at the bleachers…

Mifune: For this Red vs. White competition, it’s gonna be sportsman hunting deluxe in here!

Mifune: The red team gets red balloons, the white team gets white ones. Protect them against your enemies and other special little surprises!!

Eagles: …!

Shiraishi: Whoa… The eagles are raining down on us.

Ryoma: Yep… I knew this was gonna happen.

Fuji: That coach just came here to say all that and left.

Tezuka: So we must protect our balloons from those eagles, is that right.

Ryoma: The balloons are coated in a scent the eagles like, it’s gonna be an onslaught.

Ryoma: I already had to deal with this on those cliffs.

Shiraishi: Sounds like that was some wild training you did.

Fuji: Sportsman hunting, huh… If Echizen completed this special training, then I’m interested in it as well.

Yukimura: That boy is the way he is now since he overcame it.

Ryoma: Oh yeah, senpais, you’re all on the white team.

Tezuka: Yes, that’s correct.

Shiraishi: Looks like Echizen-kun and our troublemaker are on the red team.

Yukimura: Akaya’s on the red team as well. All of the first and second years are on the red team.

Ryoma: And all of the captains are on the white team…

Ryoma: Heh, this’ll be fun.

[Episode 2]

Mizuki: “Sportsman hunting deluxe”, is it…

Inui: The rules of this sportsman hunting are different than they were on the cliff, allow us to summarize.

Inui: First, any direct contact with a balloon is prohibited. Of course, this applies to both ours and the enemies’ balloons.

Yanagi: Second, a player whose balloon has been popped can no longer attack, and can only defend their allies.

Yanagi: There is a thirty minute time limit as well. The team with the most balloons left at the end of the game will be the winner.

Chitose: Thirty minutes, huh… I dunno whether to consider that long or short.

Yanagi: As someone who has experienced it before, I consider it long.

Inui: This time, there is not many places to hide from the eagles, and the area is small. We will be extremely disadvantaged trying to defend our balloons.

Mizuki: Perhaps you could pop your own balloon and focus on defending your allies.

Chitose: You think that’s a good idea?

Yanagi: It doesn’t defy any of the rules, does it?

Chitose: Go on the offensive or defensive, huh. Or maybe we could focus on a balanced strategy…

Chitose: Our true colors are gonna show.

Mizuki: Nhm. A remarkable scenario is about to unfold.

Inui: It’ll also be a great opportunity to collect more data…

Yanagi: I don’t think there will even be time for that…

—

Niou: Looks like we’re both on team red, Kabaji.

Kabaji: Right…

Niou: Based off the chart, it looks like they sorted it based off rooms that have first and second years and those that don’t.

Kabaji: Right…

Niou: What’s up, you don’t look too optimistic about it.

Kabaji: No… It’s just…

Niou: It’s gonna be hard since you’re going against Atobe.

Kabaji: But, you’re here… Niou-san.

Niou: …

Niou: Heh. Well, in that case… let’s knock the white team off their feet, shall we.

Kabaji: The winner will be… team red…!

[Episode 3]

Kurobane: Keep on at it, David!

Amane: …!? Bane-san, look out!

Amane: Kuh…!

Kurobane: Wha… That fast!?

Akutsu: If you’re done chatting, get lost. You’re in the way.

Amane: …He wasn’t even aiming at the balloon, he aimed for you.

Kurobane: It’s fine, David. I should’ve stayed focused.

Kurobane: The game’s already started. Even if it pops, there’s no time to complain.

Akutsu: Well said. Spoken like a true loser.

Amane: You—!

Sengoku: Akutsu, behind you!

Sengoku: Hah…!

Sengoku: Man, what a close call. We’re only a minute into this game and it’s already no joke.

Akutsu: Bastard. Stay out of this.

Sengoku: Huhh? Shouldn’t you be crying tears of joy over how lucky that was?

Akutsu: Shut up…

Akutsu: Hey, who hit that shot.

Ibu: …It was Kamio.

Kamio: It was you, Shinji!

Ibu: I thought for sure we’d pop it… We came so close…

Akutsu: Wonderful. I can crush you both together.

Kurobane: Hey now, don’t forget about us.

Amane: Time for a counterattack.

Sengoku: Looks like he’s gonna try to take on those red team members by himself. Typical Akutsu.

Sengoku: Akutsu, we should hurry and regroup.

Akutsu: Hmph. Go ahead and run with your tail between your legs, Sengoku.

Akutsu: You guys can run away too if you want.

Kamio: No way, we’re not letting you get away that easily!!

Ibu: We’re definitely gonna pop those two white balloons.

Ibu: We can’t afford to stop here…

Kamio: Right. It’s rare to get a chance like this.

Kamio: To be able to challenge Tachibana-san to a match!

Sengoku: Huh… They’re not focusing on us anymore?

Akutsu: Keh. They’ll regret it soon enough!

[Episode 4]

Kawamura: Looks like Akutsu’s going up against those red team members, I hope he’ll be okay…

Fuji: We don’t have time to worry about other people right now.

Kawamura: Huh…

Eagle: …!

Kawamura: Agh, an eagle…!

Fuji: Taka-san, hit a chestnut at it!

Kawamura: R-Right. Got it!

Kawamura: UWOOOOH! GREAT!

*thwack…!*

Kawamura: That was close…

Fuji: By the way, why are we using chestnuts as a countermeasure?

Kawamura: Echizen and the others used them to drive away the eagles at the cliffs.

Kawamura: They’re lighter than tennis balls, so they don’t pack much of a punch… But the spikes drive away the eagles.

Fuji: I see. It’s a good way to pop the balloons, too.

Kawamura: Haha… We’ve gotta be careful not to get targeted from behind.

—

Eagle: …!

Kirihara: …Whoa! That was close!

Kirihara: There was an eagle and a chestnut at the same time… Who shot at me!

Minami: I thought I had it…

Kirihara: Hey, that’s a Yamabuki jersey—!

Kirihara: …Who are you?

Minami: The captain of the Yamabuki Tennis Club, Kentarou Minami!

Zaizen: What’re you standing around for, Kirihara!

Zaizen: Huh…!

Kirihara: Huh? From behind…

Zaizen: From everywhere. Front, back, left, right, 360 degrees around you.

Kirihara: That’s impossible, isn’t it!?

Higashikata: Kuh. They managed to block our coordination…

Minami: And here I thought your stealth was perfect for this…

Kirihara: Both of you are actually pretty good at this, senpais~

Zaizen: You just suck at paying attention, Kirihara.

Kirihara: Oh come on, whose side are you even on…

Zaizen: I just had to save you. You’re barely on our side, aren’t you?

Kirihara: What do you mean “barely”!?

Minami: …Hey. Should we try to intercept them now?

Higashikata: Nah, they look too distracted, like they’re trying to make it easy for us…

Higashikata: Or maybe they’ve already forgotten we exist…

Minami: That’s our strength though. We should seize this opportunity, Higashikata.

Higashikata: …! Yes, now’s our chance to strike…

Higashikata & Minami: Slow and steady wins the race!

[Episode 5]

*pop!*

Kaidoh: …Another balloon got popped.

Hiyoshi: There’s less red ones from what I’m seeing.

Hiyoshi: The white team still has most of theirs…

Kaidoh: Hey, here it comes!

Eagle: …!

Hiyoshi: Damn it. Dealing with the opposite team is already a handful…!

Kaidoh: Running away will get us nowhere. Let’s go on the offensive!

—

Hiyoshi: Did we get it…?

Kaidoh: Yeah. Our next target is—

Kaidoh & Hiyoshi: The captains…!

—

Tachibana: …Phew. Looks like the eagles are just about done with their onslaught.

Tezuka: They’re assessing the situation from above. They probably intend to attack altogether now.

Atobe: It would be nice for us to catch our breaths, but it looks like that won’t happen.

Tezuka: Right. And I sense they’re not the only ones watching us with an eagle eye.

Tezuka: Take caution, or else they’ll get you.

Kite: I see. If they’re going to come for our team, then the captains will be a priority.

Kite: On that note, all of Higa is on the white team. I am grateful that we can attack altogether.

Atobe: Hey, don’t you dare try and play any dirty tricks on my members.

Atobe: If you go after them, then you will fight them fair-and-square.

Kite: Since we’re going after the balloons, then it should not matter what methods we use to pop them.

Kite: Besides, showing them how great the difference in power is between us wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

Tachibana: On the contrary, we should be cautious of any sly tactics ourselves.

Tachibana: We’re not the only ones they’ll be after.

Kite: Wise words spoken.

Kite: But regardless of what anyone believes, I will dispose of them one by one.

Tezuka: I see. You may be right, Kite.

Kite: Was that a compliment, perhaps?

Tezuka: No, just my opinion.

Atobe: Enough with the chatter. Here they come!

[Episode 6]

Sanada: The balloons are popping at a faster rate.

Yukimura: Everyone’s moving terribly.

Yukimura: All of the balloons will be popped before the thirty minutes at this rate.

Sanada: Don’t be foolish. You’re saying our balloons will be popped too.

Yukimura: Don’t get so defensive. I guess what I mean is most of the balloons.

Jackal: …Argh! Man, this is rough…

Yagyuu: Just when you think you’ve avoided the eagles, the white team comes swooping in…

Sanada: It’s quite the misfortune, isn’t it.

Jackal: Yeah. Especially since there’s no places to hide, we’re running around like headless chickens…

Yagyuu: Hold it, Kuwahara-kun! They’re on the white team.

Jackal: Ah! Th-That’s right…

Yukimura: You can take some time to recuperate. You’re still a part of Rikkai.

Yagyuu: No, I’m fine. Let’s get this started, shall we.

Jackal: Yup. I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night if I got a handicap!

Sanada: Then we will show you no mercy.

Sanada: Right here, right now, we shall obliterate your balloons…!

—

Eagle: …!

Krauser: Watch out!

Yuuta: Whoa…!

Yuuta: Thank you. I didn’t even see that eagle coming.

Krauser: Of course I would come to your aid. We are on the same team.

Yuuta: Same team…

Yuuta: Hey, and I hate to say this out loud but, but don’t you think the people on the red team are at a disadvantage?

Krauser: Disadvantage… What do you mean?

Yuuta: Half the red team’s got first and second years. The white team has all third years.

Yuuta: I’m not saying the seniors are stronger than the juniors, but…

Krauser: Hm… I hear what you are saying, but I do not understand what exactly you are implying…?

Krauser: Besides, you’re my senpai too, Yuuta-san. And if we work together, we have nothing to fear.

Yuuta: …!

Yuuta: Right, I guess I was overthinking it. Mizuki-san and my Big Bro are over there…

Yuuta: Since I’m a senpai, I can’t be weak. Alright, let’s go on the offensive!

Krauser: Right. We’ll win this one together!

[Episode 7]

Koharu: Let’s go, Yuu-kun! Love-love~…

Yuuji: Love-love-love-love attack!!

—

Yuuji: Alright, we fought them off with the power of love!

Koharu: Zaizen-chan, we’ll protect you!

Zaizen: You’re annoying, senpais…

Yuuji: Huh!? Koharu’s going out of his way to protect you!

Zaizen: …!

Zaizen: I didn’t ask…! *thok!*

Yuuji: !? The eagle’s flying away…

Zaizen: On the defensive again. Well, I’m fine with it.

Zaizen: So far all I’ve done is protect people, though…

???: Wow. Can you keep that up, Zaizen?

*thok, thok, thok, thok…!*

Zaizen: Wha—

Koharu: Look out, Zaizen-chan!!

Yuuji: Look out, Koharu!!

*pop!*

Shiraishi: …Whoops. Wasn’t aiming for that one but at least I still popped it.

Zaizen: Captain Shiraishi…!

Koharu: Aghh~, Yuu-kun’s balloon!

Shiraishi: There’s not a second to lose. The enemy waits for no one.

Chitose: It’s not really a surprise attack if you give them hints, Shiraishi!

Koharu: Wha… from behind now!

Ishida: Over here, too…!

Yuuji: Two of them!? Kuh, not even a chance to get back on our feet…

*pop!*

Koharu: Noooooo! My balloon…!

Ishida: Phew… We managed to get another one.

Chitose: If Shiraishi hadn’t said all that extra stuff, we would’ve got Zaizen’s balloon.

Shiraishi: We would’ve caught them completely off guard, I didn’t wanna go overboard…

Chitose: Taking them by surprise is also a strategy, we don’t need to hold back.

Koharu: Yuu-kun, now that it’s come to this, we must protect Zaizen-chan’s balloon even if it kills us.

Yuuji: If that’s what you’ve decided, then I’m on board. Let’s do everything we can to protect it!

Zaizen: Senpais… You really don’t need to bother.

Zaizen: Well, running away now wouldn’t sit right with me, so I guess this is fine.

Ishida: …It looks like it will be difficult trying to pop Zaizen-han’s balloon.

Shiraishi: Yeah, but I’m more comfortable taking them on fair-and-square.

Shiraishi: Okay… You ready for this, Zaizen?

Zaizen: Ready when you are, Captain Shiraishi…!

[Episode 8]

Kite: I will not let the others dissuade us from using our own methods for this situation.

Kite: Quickly get behind the enemy and take them down… Sound good?

Hirakoba: I came so close to taking out those red team guys just now.

Chinen: If that eagle hadn’t attacked us, we would’ve got them.

Hirakoba: Those eagles just won’t quit. We keep driving them away, and they keep coming back.

Tanishi: Don’t underestimate the eagles. They really put us through it on the cliffs.

Kai: Right when you think they’re gone and you can relax, they’re right up beside you.

Chinen: You shouldn’t even be thinking about relaxing.

Tanishi: You’ll wear yourself out if you’re constantly tense, though.

Kai: By the way, Kite. You tried to use me as a shield just now, didn’t you?

Kite: You’re imagining things.

Kintarou: There! I found five white balloons!

Kite: …!

Kintarou: I GOT YOU NOW!!!

Hirakoba: He just hit ten chestnuts at once!

Chinen: We’ll just hit them all back!

Tanishi: No sweat off our backs, there’s five of us.

Kite: And only one, single enemy. Redirect those shots!

Kintarou: Haha! Not bad, Misters!

Kintarou: Got plenty more where that came from…!

*pop!*

Tanishi: Aghh!? My balloon just…

Eagle: …!

Chinen: An eagle just came up from behind!

Kintarou: TAKE THIIIIIIIS!

Kai: More chestnuts coming in hot!

Kite: You’re getting ahead of yourself…

Kite: Allow me to teach you a lesson.

Kintarou: Whuh!? When did you get behind me…

Kite: Right when you think I’m gone, I’m right up beside you…

Kite: When using our Shukuchiho technique, you could say we are just like those eagles.

*pop!*

[Episode 9]

Gakuto: C’mon, now! Go ahead and pop it, I know you wanna!

Momoshiro: Dammit… I missed~!

Kenya: That slippery little…!

Yuushi: Quite the struggle you’re having. Maybe I should join you, Kenya, Momoshiro.

Gakuto: Oh, Yuushi. Looks like your balloon hasn’t popped yet.

Yuushi: Yes, and you’re my enemy, Gakuto.

Yuushi: But no matter how swift the opponent, two against one is never a fair fight.

Momoshiro: Hey, it’s not just Mukahi-san we’re up against…

Jirou: There!

Marui: That red balloon’s mine!

Yuushi: …! Both at the same time…

Jirou: Awww, that was so “C”lose! He dodged it!

Marui: Oh come on, there’s no way he could’ve avoided our genius teamwork technique.

Yuushi: Sorry. But as far as geniuses go, you’re speaking to the member of Hyotei who carries that title.

Yuushi: But it also could’ve been a mere coincidence that I managed to avoid that.

Marui: Doesn’t matter if you’re a genius or not…

Kenya: So now you see it was actually the two of us holding up against the three of them.

Yuushi: Yes, I see that now. The three volleyers…

Yuushi: In a balloon popping competition, they’re definitely more likely to win.

Kenya: Maybe so. But if it were a match of pure speed, I could beat any number of opponents.

Yuushi: Speed is all you have, to be honest.

Kenya: What do you mean speed is all I have!?

Jirou: Hey, hey. Is it okay to attack them now?

Marui: I think so, but I have a feeling this won’t be easy…

Gakuto: …Oh, right. Hey, where’d the other one go?

Momoshiro: Right behind ya!!

Eagle: …!!!!

Gakuto: Wha. He lured the eagle over here!

Jirou: They’re going for a pincer attack!?

Momoshiro: Nice! Oshitari-san, Kenya-san, let’s squash ‘em all at once!

Marui: Not good. Let’s retreat!

Yuushi: I won’t let you escape that easily.

Kenya: Time to show ‘em what my speed is made of!

Momoshiro: Let’s get this show on the road then~

Momoshiro: Boom…!

[Episode 10]

Fuji: …Doesn’t it seem like the eagles are starting to lighten up?

Tezuka: Yes, now that you’ve mentioned it. I don’t feel constantly targeted anymore.

Mizuki: The number of balloons has considerably decreased.

Mizuki: There’s still plenty of white balloons from the looks of it. I already knew this would be the result from when I first saw the team chart.

Fuji: We’re fifteen minutes in now… Only halfway through. Who knows what’ll happen from here on out.

Mizuki: I’m not saying it’s going to stay like this—

Yuuta: Whoa!?

Mizuki & Fuji: !

Kikumaru: Huhh, the white team!? When did we get so close…

Oishi: The eagles were distracting us so much, we didn’t even realize how close we were!

Tezuka: Well… it looks like all of your balloons are still intact.

Kikumaru: Oh this isn’t good, Tezuka’s getting fired up, Oishi~

Oishi: Let’s do this, Eiji. We’ll show him the Golden Pair’s power!

Yuuta: Huh, wait… If those two are dealing with Tezuka-san, then that means…

Fuji: Yuuta, your balloon’s not popped yet.

Mizuki: Now, your time has finally come…

Mizuki: Let’s go, Yuuta-kun!

Yuuta: Ah, I have to take on the two of you by myself~!?

Fuji: Huh…!

*thwack!!*

Yuuta: Huh. Both of your chestnuts hit each other…?

Fuji: Oh, wow. Didn’t see that coming.

Mizuki: Hold it, Fuji-kun. Kindly stay out of my way, please.

Fuji: We’re both aiming for the same balloon. It’s not like it wouldn’t happen.

Yuuta: …Now! Hah!

Tezuka: …!?

Oishi: Whoaa! Yuuta-kun took Tezuka by surprise!

Kikumaru: But he still hit it right back, that was sooo close~!

Yuuta: Aw… I thought I had it…

Tezuka: I see. You two were meant to distract me.

Oishi: No, we were actually being serious.

Fuji: Did you go after Tezuka because you didn’t want to face me?

Yuuta: I just seized the opportunity! I saw Tezuka-san’s balloon near your shadow.

Kikumaru: Great job~! Keep up the good work!

Mizuki: I don’t think it’s smart to say that when the enemy’s still right in front of you…

Mifune: Listen up, brats! We’re addin’ in more balloons now!!

Oishi: Huh…?

Kikumaru: Adding in more balloons…?

[Episode 11]

Kintarou: Huh…? Where’d all the eagles go?

Ryoma: Dunno… Feels like they’ve been gone for a while now.

Ryoma: Oh yeah, Kintarou, your balloon’s popped. So that means I’m the winner.

Kintarou: Whaddya mean. I’ve popped way more balloons than you!

Ryoma: And how can you even tell…

Mifune: Listen up, brats! We’re addin’ in more balloons now!!

Kintarou: Oh, it’s that drunk guy.

Ryoma: Ah…!

—

Byoudouin: …Well, well. Twenty minutes in, and they’ve still got half their balloons?

Oni: Standing their ground, eh. They would’ve been wiped out already if they were a bunch of weaklings.

Tokugawa: Half of them have endured that training atop the cliffs. They’re probably used to dealing with the eagles.

Oni: I can’t tell if it’s because of the others or the eagles, but the red team’s taken a lot of damage.

Tokugawa: I’m not sure whether to finish them off, or go after the white team to balance things out…

Byoudouin: Destroy any enemy balloons you see floating in front of you. That’s all you need to do.

Tokugawa: It don’t think it’ll be as simple as that.

Oni: Nah, he kinda has a point, doesn’t he?

Oni: All we have to do is send those kids to hell.

—

Ryoma: The high schoolers…!

Kintarou: What’s with the black balloons.

Ryoma: Those are the balloons they’ve added…

Byoudouin: Ryoma Echizen. You’re still up and kicking too.

Ryoma: Yup. So you’re joining in on this too, huh.

Ryoma: In that case, I’ll be taking that black balloon you’ve got behind you.

Byoudouin: Hmph… Still a cheeky little runt, I see.

Tokugawa: From hereon, we shall attack the red and white balloons indiscriminately.

Tokugawa: If you do not wish to be interfered with, just pop our black balloons. The rule states that we can no longer play if our balloon is popped.

Oni: As long as our balloons are intact, we’re gonna keep charging you guys.

Oni: …Wh—hey. Kintarou. Your balloon’s already been popped?

Kintarou: Yeah, but either way I still won’t lose! Let’s do this, Uncle Oni!

Ryoma: You can’t attack if your balloon’s popped.

Kintarou: Aw~, seriously!?

Kintarou: Well in that case, I’ll return every ball ya hit! I’ll leave the attacking to you, Koshimae!

Ryoma: Sounds good to me. I’ll just focus on attacking.

Kintarou: Alright! Let’s go, Koshimae!

Ryoma: Don’t need to tell me twice!

[Episode 12]

Tohno: Hyaahyaahyaa! Now, who should I execute first!?

Tohno: Nice, there’s a scarecrow over there. Let’s start with you!

Choutarou: Huh, m-me?

Shishido: You bastard, how dare you call Choutarou a scarecrow!

Choutarou: Shishido-san, it’s fine! Really, I don’t mind!

Kimijima: This isn’t really the time for you to be concerned for other people, either.

Choutarou: …! Oh no—

Shishido: Dorah!! Get down, Choutarou!

Kimijima: Oh. Aiming in the direction of your ally and making him dodge, huh…

Kimijima: There’s a great deal of trust between you two, but shouldn’t you both be a little more concerned for yourselves?

*pop!*

Tohno: Look at that, that thing behind you is gone now! Did it really have to be that easy to pop it?

Choutarou: Shishido-san, your balloon…!

Shishido: Tch, super lame…

Shishido: But I guess focusing on being the defense isn’t so bad. Go on the offensive from here on out, Choutarou!

Choutarou: I’m sorry, Shishido-san. You tried to protect me…

Shishido: Hey, what’s the matter with you. The enemy’s still right in front of us!

Choutarou: R-Right! I’ll get—

Mitsuya: “I’ll get my head back in the game.” …Is what you were going to say.

Choutarou: Ah…

Mitsuya: Apologies, but without further ado, I’ll be taking that.

???: That’s what I should be saying!

Mitsuya: What…?

*pop!*

Kirihara: Awesome! I popped a black balloon!

Shishido: Kirihara!

Choutarou: Th-Thank you. You saved me…

Kirihara: I wasn’t trying to protect you. I was aiming for that black balloon!

Shishido: Not bad, though. You actually managed to pop a high schooler’s balloon.

Kirihara: Hehe, right? I’m just awesome like that, aren’t I?

Kirihara: You too, senpai, you can be honest and compliment me too while you’re at it.

Shishido: …Ugh c’mon, you don’t need that much praise, do you?

Choutarou: Haha… He still did a good job saving me, though.

Mitsuya: …Hm. I agree that you’re overstepping your bounds.

Mitsuya: However, I have received some good data. I shall quickly start comparing it with my previous assessments, and reorganize my collection.

Tohno: …What’s with that guy. He actually looks happy his balloon got popped.

Kimijima: True, it doesn’t appear to be a big issue for him.

Tohno: Keh. He’s lost the plot…

[Episode 13]

Kamio: Dammit! They got me!

Ibu: It was an endless barrage of chestnuts… I can’t tell if you’re unlucky, careless, or if you just suck…

Kamio: I’m just unlucky, aren’t I!? And what do you mean I just suck, the hell…

Tachibana: Kamio, Shinji. Taking a break over here?

Ibu: Tachibana-san!

Kamio: Aughh, so close~!

Tachibana: …So close?

Kamio: I was hoping to face off against you, Tachibana-san! But my balloon just got popped…

Tachibana: The game’s still going. Bring it!

Kamio: But, my balloon…

Ibu: You want both of us to come at you at the same time… Right, Tachibana-san.

Tachibana: Yep. Let’s duke it out for a couple of minutes.

Kamio: Huhh… Even if that’s what you want, I don’t think it’d be fair to do two against one…

Ibu: Then why don’t we try it out and see. I’ll focus on attacking, and you protect my balloon at all costs.

Kamio: Damn it, I wanted to attack too!

Tachibana: Show me the power of the two great aces of Fudomine!

—

Tachibana: …Whoa… Wow, you two are tough, that’s for sure.

Ibu: You say that, but you’re making it look like a walk in the park… and we’re giving it everything we got. Typical Tachibana-san…

Kamio: …! Shinji, watch out!

*bam…!*

Ochi: …How asinine of you to interfere.

Mouri: We’re just doing what we gotta, sorry.

Ibu: The high schoolers…

Mouri: First, I’ll go… for the white balloon!

Kamio: No, you don’t!

Tachibana: Hey, Kamio… What’re you doing protecting the enemy.

Kamio: We’ll be the ones who’ll pop your balloon, Tachibana-san!

Ibu: We won’t let anyone else take it.

Tachibana: You guys…

Mouri: Mmm… Yeah, they are kinda asinine aren’t they, Tsuki-san.

Ochi: I’m not interested… Stand back, Mouri.

Ochi: Kuh…!

Mouri: …Wowee~, you saved me. An endless barrage of chestnuts… is that right?

Ochi: Based on the weight of those shots just now, it was…

—

Ryoga: Oop, looks like he noticed. He’s trying to play it off like he didn’t, but I already know.

Ryoga: …Mm? Well, the rules didn’t say the First Stringers aren’t allowed to go for the black balloons, did they?

Ryoga: Meh, whatever. Okay then, I’ll go check up on Chibisuke next~

[Episode 14]

Tanegashima: There we go!

Omagari: Hey, quit playing around. You’re hitting in the wrong direction.

Tanegashima: I’m trying to lure them here. Then once they’re in, I’ll get ‘em all with a bang.

Omagari: They’re not gonna make it easy for you…

—

Atobe: *huff*, *huff*…

Atobe: Tch… They’re toying with us.

Kite: They’re not leaving any room to attack. As expected of the high schoolers—

Hiyoshi: Now’s my chance…!

Atobe: What…

Kite: Hah!

*bam!!*

Kite: Hmph… Talk about a close call. Trying to take advantage while we’ve got our hands full, I see.

Atobe: Shut up. You’re just being a nuisance.

Hiyoshi: I’ve been looking for you, Captain Atobe. Glad to see your balloon’s still in one piece.

Atobe: Huhh? I should be saying that to you.

Hiyoshi: I’ll be taking that balloon of yours.

Atobe: Oh? Come and get it, then.

—

Tanegashima: Oh man, looks like something interesting’s about to start.

Omagari: Don’t even try barging in on it. That pompadour’s watching out for us.

Omagari: Besides… things are gonna get more interesting, just you wait.

—

Atobe: Orah! You’re not going to pop my balloon like that!

Hiyoshi: Don’t waste your time and energy talking…!

Atobe: …Hm?

*whoosh…!*

Atobe: Move it, Wakashi!

Hiyoshi: Wha…

Irie: Oh? You returned it.

Irie: Things were kinda persisting for too long, so I thought I’d settle it.

Atobe: Don’t interfere with us, Irie-san.

Irie: How can you say that, Atobe-kun! It was a gut-wrenching decision I had to make too, you know!?

Irie: I’m eager to see how this plays out… But, I have my own mission…

Hiyoshi: Excuse me, but could you please be quiet for just a second?

Hiyoshi: Captain Atobe, why did you save me?

Atobe: Huhh? Because, I’ve decided—

*pop…!*

Hiyoshi: Ah…!

Atobe: I will send you to your doom with my own two hands.

Irie: …Fufu. Well, well, so you ended up popping it after all.

Hiyoshi: Kuh…

Hiyoshi: Next time… Next time, I’ll overthrow you…!

[Episode 15]

Shiraishi: …Phew, just made it. That was pretty close.

Yukimura: Right when we made eye contact with Tokugawa-san, he started charging at us.

Shiraishi: I thought we were just passing glances.

Yukimura: Didn’t they teach you in school that it’s not good to look someone or something in the eye?

*thok, thok, thok, thok…!*

Shiraishi: …Whoa! He’s coming back for more!

Yukimura: No, it’s—

Kirihara: You two are getting a little too comfortable and chatty, y’know?

Yukimura: Akaya, your balloon hasn’t been popped yet I see.

Kirihara: I can’t let it pop until I’ve gotten your balloon, Captain Yukimura.

Kirihara: In other words, your balloon’s mine!

Shiraishi: Whoa, slow down there, Kirihara-kun…

Shiraishi: There’s two of us here. Trying to take us on all by yourself wouldn’t be the smartest idea.

*bam…!*

Yukimura & Shiraishi: …!

Zaizen: Who said he was alone, Captain Shiraishi.

Shiraishi: What’s this, Zaizen, you’ve still got your balloon too.

Zaizen: Even though they were extremely annoying, it’s all thanks to Koharu-senpai and Yuuji-senpai.

Zaizen: I’ve got no defenses here on out. But I’ll make up for it by paying you back for wiping them out earlier.

Shiraishi: So you came all this way just to get your balloon popped?

Zaizen: Go ahead and smile while you still can.

Yukimura: Well then… It’s you and me, Akaya.

Kirihara: If you think I’m the same as I was yesterday, you’re wrong.

Kirihara: Right here, right now: I may be able to surpass you, Captain Yukimura, or Vice Captain Sanada or Yanagi-senpai.

Yukimura: Yes, I see. In that case…

Yukimura: I will put my entire body and soul into this.

—

Byoudouin: …

Ryoga: Oh, you just gonna loaf around over here?

Byoudouin: I could say the same to you.

Ryoga: Better hurry and get out there before the balloons run out.

Byoudouin: Hmph. Things have been stirred up out there enough.

Byoudouin: Not to mention, time’s almost up. Will these rats bite back at the cats, or end up as frogs trapped by the snakes…

Ryoga: We’ll see, won’t we, still got a minute left…

[Episode 16]

Kaidoh: Oooogh!

Tezuka: What’s wrong, your aim is off.

Kaidoh: Damn it, I’m too busy protecting my balloon to attack!

Kaidoh: (No, I’m just making excuses. I’m just not good enough—)

Kaidoh: (What was I even thinking? What can I do if I can’t believe in myself at a time like this!)

Atobe: Hey, Wakashi. You gonna go help Kaidoh out or what?

Hiyoshi: I don’t particularly want to, since it’s gonna be a big hassle dealing with both you and Tezuka-san.

Atobe: Relax, I won’t do anything.

Kirihara: Whoa, they got you!

Zaizen: Dang Hiyoshi, your balloon got popped?

Hiyoshi: Shut up. Like you guys have any room to talk.

Kirihara: I did the best I could, alright! I just couldn’t find a chestnut to hit in time…

Zaizen: Enough with the sore loser act. Let’s hurry and protect Kaidoh’s balloon.

Hiyoshi: I was just waiting for an opportunity to jump in and defend him. I’m going in.

Kirihara: Kaidoh! I’ll defend that balloon till my dying breath!

Kaidoh: What the hell are you guys—

Hiyoshi: This isn’t a one vs. one competition. We’ll protect your balloon.

Kaidoh: …!

Kaidoh: (That’s right, it’s a Red vs. White competition. I thought I had to fight all by myself.)

Kirihara: Augh, dammit! My mind’s all “Attack! Attack! Attack!”, it’s what I’m built for!

Hiyoshi: Stop talking. I’m already annoyed over having to protect him.

Kaidoh: (These guys are with me today. This isn’t the time to be hesitant, Kaoru Kaidoh!)

Zaizen: Just a heads up, pretty much all the red balloons have been popped, so everyone’s gonna target over here.

Kaidoh: …Fantastic. No matter how many people come, we’ll kick their asses.

Kaidoh: I leave the defense to you guys!

Kirihara: Right. And you handle all the attacking for us!

—

Tezuka: …Oh. So the only ones left with red balloons are from Seigaku.

Atobe: I don’t like the way you said that. And you’re just stalling at this point.

Atobe: There’s less than a minute left. Am I gonna have to do it, since you won’t?

Tezuka: Don’t bother.

Tezuka: …Come, Kaidoh. Let us end this.

Kaidoh: I’ll get your balloon, Captain Tezuka, even if I die trying.

Tezuka: A good resolve. Let’s go!

Kaidoh: Don’t you underestimate Kaoru Kaidoh! Uwooooh!

Tezuka: Haaaah!

*pop…!*

[Episode 17]

Kirihara: Aaaaauuuuughhh, this sucks!

Kirihara: All four of our balloons were popped in the end, they totally crushed us!

Hiyoshi: Shut up. We already know, you don’t need to go shouting about it.

Kaidoh: Damn it… I wasn’t able to persevere to the end…

Zaizen: Not to mention we weren’t even able to defend you to the end.

Kirihara: But didn’t the high schoolers join in during the middle of all that? That must’ve been why our perfect defense was completely toppled.

Zaizen: The high schoolers were attacking both red and white, we weren’t the only ones at a disadvantage.

Kaidoh: I was so busy with Captain Tezuka attacking me that I didn’t even notice the high schoolers joined in…

Hiyoshi: Well, at least attacking was the only thing you had to focus on…

Hiyoshi: What pisses me off the most was having to see all the captains smirking around us.

Kirihara: Yes, oh my god! Arghh~~~ I’m furious just remembering~~~!

Kaidoh: Were they really smirking?

Kirihara: I mean, you wouldn’t have noticed since you were so wrapped up with Tezuka-san.

Zaizen: Speaking of smirking, this one right next to me has been smirking too.

Ryoma: …Huh, me?

Kintarou: What’s up Koshimae, did something funny happen?

Ryoma: I mean, you’re not wrong. My balloon wasn’t popped by the time it was over.

Kintarou: Yeah, ‘cause I was protecting it.

Zaizen: Yeah, ‘cause your balloon got popped almost instantly.

Kintarou: True, but I didn’t let anyone pop Koshimae’s balloon!

Ryoma: It probably wouldn’t have been popped even if you weren’t there, Kintarou.

Ryoma: Well, at least the red team wasn’t completely wiped out, thanks to us.

Kaidoh: Kuh… I can’t say anything to that but seeing you smirk is still aggravating…

Ryoma: Yeah, I know it is.

Kaidoh: …But I’m not gonna lose in tennis.

Kirihara: Oh yeah, you’re right. I won’t lose if it’s tennis!

Zaizen: Right. Things would’ve been different today if it had been tennis.

Hiyoshi: Yeah. If you think what happened today is all I’m capable of, you’re dead wrong.

Ryoma: For me, tennis is one of the things I don’t lose in.

Hiyoshi: He never stops being cocky, does he…

Kaidoh: …I’m gonna head out for a bit.

Kirihara: Oh, to the tennis courts? I’m coming too!

Hiyoshi: I was just thinking about how I wanted to hit a tennis ball and not a chestnut.

Zaizen: There’s still time before dinner. I’ll go with you too.

205: I’ll be the winner next time!

[Epilogue]

Tezuka: Hah…!

Atobe: Orah! Enough with these weak shots, Tezuka!

—

Tezuka: You’re looking worn out now, aren’t you, Atobe?

Atobe: Heh. As if.

—

Shiraishi: Those two have been really going at it with their rallying.

Kite: They haven’t taken a break since they finished the practice circuit.

Yukimura: Tezuka, Atobe. You guys should rehydrate at least once, don’t you think?

Tezuka: …Yes. It appears more time has passed than I had thought.

Atobe: I can still keep going. I could go on forever.

Kite: Good grief, the stamina you have.

Shiraishi: Speaking of stamina, that sportsman hunting deluxe yesterday was insane.

Yukimura: It was. It’s hard to believe it was only thirty minutes, it was so exhausting.

Tezuka: The opposing team attacking, along with the eagles and high schoolers… It was all I could do just to protect my balloon.

Kite: Oh, so even you thought so, Tezuka-kun.

Tezuka: …What’s that supposed to mean?

Shiraishi: You just looked so calm, Tezuka-kun. It made me feel self conscious and thinking that I should look calm during all of it too.

Tezuka: I wasn’t trying to look like that…

Yukimura: We were definitely on edge yesterday. They could’ve popped our balloons at any given moment.

Atobe: It’s the role of a captain to persevere and produce results.

Atobe: I won’t allow myself to look disgraceful in front of my club members, let alone my underclassmen.

Yukimura: That’s right. I gave it my all not only to attack and dodge, but to also smile��

Yukimura: To me, it’s a requirement when you are placed in the role of captain.

Shiraishi: Of course, you only want them to see good things as the captain.

Tezuka: It’s as if there’s a desire to leave something behind for them.

Kite: Well, it’s not as if I don’t understand those kinds of feelings.

Kite: …There is a different side to me when I’m with the others from Higa, I’ll say that much.

Shiraishi: To be honest, there were moments where I got anxious. But I couldn’t say it out loud.

Yukimura: Me too, actually. Once I heard the signal that it was over, I was honestly so relieved.

Atobe: Hopefully those who follow after will get a taste of the same thrill we had.

Tezuka: Everyone, we must get stronger. We can’t afford to get careless.

Atobe: Huhh? That word doesn’t exist in my dictionary.

Tezuka: Right. Now, and hereafter…

Tezuka: Don’t let your guards down.

[STORY END]

Couldn’t upload some images because of the 30 image limit (they’re in the stadium the whole time anyway). I do not miss when they had stories over 10 chapters long.

Also this story is the premise for Tenigo (the Switch game for Tenirabi). More to be added.

[jolikmc-thoughts]

So… last week, I made a poll, asking people to vote on their favorite version of the first two Final Fantasy games. I asked because, honestly, I kind of want to give these games a fair shake after more than thirty years of not playing them.

So, what were the results? Well, of the 28 votes…

… it seems that almost one-third of the people enjoyed the portability, semi-retro stylings, and additional content of Dawn of Souls more than any other version! Which surprises me because the PlayStation Portable versions had all that. But I mean… who, other than me, even owns a PSP? ᗡ,:

More analysis and rambling under the cut. –

The vote distribution kind of surprised me, honestly. I mean, I'm not terribly surprised that Dawn of Souls won over all the other versions, really? It was the most widely-played version of the bunch, not counting the original Final Fantasy I on the NES. No, what surprises me is what came in 2nd Place and 3rd Place.

It seems like 21.4% of people actually kind of prefer the original "8-bit" releases of the games. Not surprising – nostalgia is a really powerful thing! Sure, they might be riddled with bugs and weirdness compared to later releases, but there's just something about that 2A03 sound chip, those 4-color sprites, and the feel of the original, tiny game controller that just can't be replicated with modern-day ports.

Inversely, another 21.4% of people went clear the other way and voted for the Sony PlayStation Portable "20th Anniversary" remakes! These versions, of course, build on what already came with the Game Boy Advance versions, but add even higher resolution graphics, re-implement the Origins soundtracks, and even toss in additional bonus content, such as another dungeon, more equipment, and some of the Origins functionality.

Speaking of Origins, about 10.7% of people voted for their Sony PlayStation port. This was the very first enhanced edition of the games to be seen state-side, and it's the first official English localization of Final Fantasy II to be released. (The Famicom version had been mostly translated, but it was scrapped in favor of the Super Famicom game Final Fantasy IV.)

Another 10.7% voted for the Pixel Remasters edition. Now, knowing what I do about that version, I can't say that I agree with those votes, but I definitely understand where they're coming from. Sometimes, you just want a nice "Vanilla+" experience. For the most part, the Pixel Remasters series provides this. But, eh, from what's I've read? It's a little… iffy.

And finally… oh, dear. The WonderSwan Color version… the original enhanced port that spawned all the others… Well… at least one person voted for it. It's definitely not as impressive as the later revisions, but hey. It's not forgotten! ;v; –

Alright, so. as I said above, I ran this poll because I wanted to give these games a chance to impress me. More specifically, I asked what everyone's favorite version was because I figured that would be the version I should play for the most enjoyable experience. However, it's more than that. I actually want to play through every Final Fantasy game from the 8-bit era to the 32-bit era. Why? Well, some games… I haven't really played at all. And some games? I've neglected. Hard.

I've tried to play Final Fantasy at numerous points and even tried the nervous versions. It just… couldn't hold my attention. Too much grinding, maybe? I'm not sure. Same with Final Fantasy II.

Final Fantasy III, I kind of gave up on. Despite having a stellar Job System, I just lost interest in both the Famicom version and the Nintendo 3DS version. Again, not sure why.

Final Fantasy IV, my first RPG love… I played you to completion on the Super NES as "Final Fantasy II"… but why haven't I played you since, like, the fan retranslation in the 2000s? You have some of my favorite music, characters (Lydia ♥), and scenarios of the entire series! I owe you a revisit – and soon!

I actually beat Final Fantasy V on emulator back when it was first fan-translated. I… eh… I didn't care for it. I don't know why. I also tried playing it during a Four Job Fiesta, one year. Never finished it. I like the characters and love the music, but for some reason, it just didn't pull me in.

Do I even need to say anything about what an absolute masterpiece Final Fantasy VI is? I beat it multiple times as "Final Fantasy III" and have beat it a couple of times since. It's probably the game I've played the most, in fact. Still… it's worth a re-replay.

Final Fantasy VII… Same situation as VI, really, except that I haven't actually finished it more than once. I still have the save for that one, too! God, I took a long time to beat it…

The beautiful story that is Final Fantasy VIII… has escaped my grasp for years. I need… need… to play this. There's just no excuse for me not to. Oh, and unpopular opinion? I like the Draw System. I think it's really unique and fun!

And finally, I watched my sister finish Final Fantasy IX back when it was new, but I never actually bothered playing it to completion, myself. And that's a shame. It has the same energy as Final Fantasy IV in a lot of good ways, but with some of the modern trappings of later games. It's the original "retro Final Fantasy game"!

I have quite a long road to travel if I want to make this happen. None of these games are "short", and there are plenty that I'm unfamiliar with. However, I think it's worth the effort for the journey. Hopefully. I suppose I'll find out, huh?

To those who read voted: thank you very much! To those who Reblogged and Liked: you guys are too kind!

I'll let you know (via the Tumblr tag system) what happens with my idea and if I actually do it, and stuff. Until then… thanks for your interest! And happy gaming~!

~ J

[ariel-seagull-wings]

Thanks for the tag @professorlehnsherr-almashy

First: Fandom: Doctor Who (TV/Comics) Complete Ride on Shooting Star

It was the one-year anniversary of the day the Doctor emerged from within one of her paintings.

The happiest day of her life.

A year of incredible adventures ...

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I walked away from the dreadfull Tower, with the sound of the monks chanting and the guards footsteps coming behind me.

I did not believed that my father-in-law, good King Henry, the Sixth of his Name, was death. Until i finally had to lead the procession to his burial.

Oh good King Henry. What a kind father and mother thou were to me when my father and my beloved husband, thine son Ned, were away on the battlefield.

Third: Fandom: Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream (Theater) Complete Living Happily and Content

Two months have passed since that midsummer night, and Hermia, in her white night gown, looked to the bright moon trough the window of the bed chamber that she now shared with her beloved Lysander.

She was singing a merry tune, when her husband announced his arrival with a kiss on her neck.

-Good night, my love.

Fourth: Fandom: Peter Pan (Theater/Literature/Film) Complete Randy Dandy On

Now we are ready

To sail for the horn

Weigh hey, roll and go!

Our boots and our clothes,

Boys, are all in the pawn

To be rollicking Randy Dandy-O!

This was Hooks favorite song. When he was a child, his uncle would carry him over his shoulders to the ports, every New Year’s night, to see the arrival of the merchant shipps and the release of fireworks.

He considered the mixture of the pale golden lights in the shipps windows with the colorfull lights of the fireworks the most beautifull vision of the world.

Fifth: Fandom: The Steadfast Tin Soldier (Literature) Complete Patience

The belly of that fish was surprisingly comforting. Inside its stomach, it felt like a craddle. So i felt aesleep. I don’t know how long. But how i wish it was forever, so i could dream that i was in the arms of my sweet Ballerina...

I woked up in a strange bedroom, painted lilac and white.

It was small, but... clean and organized. I was layed in a huge, feathered and white pillow over the bed. I looked around, to see what was around me: At my side, was a yellow plushy rabbit, with a red ribbon over its head.

Sixth: Fandom: Sleeping Beauty (Literature) Complete An Invitation

One hundred springs had passed...

And Henbane Carabosse, the Old Red Fairy, was smashing some salamander powder for her potions.

That was her favorite moment of the day. She always loved feeling productive. And if there was a thing that annoyed her, was being bothered by noises during her work. Like the noise of that white dove flying around her.

At first, Hambene Carabosse tought of casting the dove away, but something called her atention to the animal: a golden ribon, tying a paper roll to the bird’s feet. That paper roll had a royal seal.

Seventh: Fandom: Doctor Who (TV/Comics) Complete A Night at the Opera

The Doctor looked at his watch. It was five minutes to the seven thirty, when he heard the sound of tires and a horn calling his attention.

-Am i late?

Liz Shaw asked from the window of her green car.

-On the contrary, it's four minutes early.

Said the Doctor, showing his watch.

-I don't promise it will always be like this.

Eight: Fandom: Shakespeare's Henriad (Theater/Film) Complete Warm

It was the first Christmas night that Fluellen spent in french lands. After their victory, his sovereign, King Henry V, nominated him to lead his personal palace guard.

It was a great honor. But Fluellen couldn’t avoid missing his homeland. Dear Walles…

At least he had hope: his King promissed to let him go back to Wales after the passage of two years, when their power over France would be fully established.

Ninth: Fandom: ABC's The Terror (TV) Complete This is Not The End

Her face has dryed. The former shaman had no reason to cry.

She had no idea how long she had been walking away from her home village.

There was only one direction for Silna: forward. Always forward.

Her feet was hurt.

But her sadness and anger desensitized her to this pain.

Sometimes Silna tryed to fight tiredness. But this feeling was bigger than her. And against her will, she slept at night.

She knew she would die. She looked forward to it. But she was not in a rush to meet Death.

Summer returned. A gentle breese blowed trough her skin. Silna stoped to sit and eat some fish that she catchet and salted.

Tenth: Fandom: The Muppet Show (TV/Comics) Complete Auditions Season: A Muppet Show Fanfiction

That week, Kermit had managed to pay the the two months of rent he owed for his landlord, J. P. Grosse.

Scooter and Fozzie had acompanied him: Scooter knew where J. P. lived, since he was his nephew, and Fozzie always was there to support him with his optimism, wich would stop Kermit from fainting in panic while visiting J. P.'s house.

The money payed was high, wich made Kermit say to his friends, concerned while they shared some coffee:

- We managed the rent and the plumbing of the theater, now we need money for the update of the costumes and settings, and pay the eletricity expenses.

I Tag: @the-blue-fairie @faintingheroine

AO3 First Lines Tag Game

Tagged by: @musewrangler ( thank you for thinking of me to tag ! this was great fun to do ! ^^ )

Rules: Share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written fewer than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

So I have twenty - three fics posted on Ao3 thus I will be using only posted works for this meme. Some will be posted in-progress wips , but all are available to read on my Ao3 account.

10 — Bound to Happen ( fandom : the witcher | status : in progress )

The stew was warm and excellently spiced, although the potatoes and carrots were of two different consistencies. Soft and tender, near melting in his mouth, whereas others were more formed and held a near audible crunch to them. Judging by the slightly watery quality to the stew and the sparse trimmings of soft meat, it would seem the tavern had underestimated the amount of food needed for tonight’s patrons. Having needed to add both water and new stocks of vegetables to the stew in order not to run out nor skimp those eating tonight.

09 — Enervated Strength ( fandom : final fanasty xv kingsglaive | status : complete )

The day was hot. Very little breeze blew across the land, meaning there were no sandstorms nor kicked up dust, but as well meant no relief from the harshness of the sun’s rays. The bus’s tiny front air conditioner didn’t reach past the first row of seats on it, and the stagnant air outside left the air flowing inside from the cracked open windows too warmed to properly cool the occupants. The packed conditions didn’t help matters either.

08 — Broken Power ( fandom : the falcon & the winter soldier | status : in progress )

It’s Sam’s desperate shout of not being able to run in the ridiculous footwear he has on that had Bucky slowing, marginally enough to allow Sam the time needed to catch up and run alongside him. He checked his pace, keeping the reduced stride to ensure he doesn’t stray too far from Sam’s side. With Zemo seemingly having abandoned them, it was better they stick together in this unknown city, even if it kept them in the range of those taking up the bounty on their heads.

07 — Drizzle ( fandom : star wars : the bad batch | status : complete )

The everpresent roar the sea’s waves, high-reaching and violent, had become a loud drone in Crosshair’s ears. A white noise that was both oppressing and deafening in its tumultuous volume yet still it was somehow distant. He had grown used to it, but as his mind wandered from his task ( exhaustion and the freezing temperature fought for which would tackle the vestiges of concentration that were left ) the symphony of sound from each clamorous wave competed with the rumbling of thunder and the crack lightening as an audial bombardment.

06 — Steady ( fandom : top gun | status : complete )

He finds him knelt before Goose’s grave, head bowed low with a hand placed upon the flat surface of the tombstone’s top. Even from this distance he can see the trembling that coursed through Maverick’s smaller frame, the interment hitch of his shoulders and the way the entirety of his being shuddered with the effort to muffle the relentless outpouring of emotion.

05 — Acta Non Verba ( fandom : tombstone ( 1993 ) | status : complete )

The babbling trickle of the creek was the only sound to permeate the silence of the night. If one listened hard enough they could perhaps hear the quiet rustle of the sparse breeze through the foliage surrounding the winding path that cut through the land to comprise the creek’s bed.

04 — Haunted ( fandom : tombstone ( 1993 ) | status : complete )

Stepping into the room equally as hot yet far more humid than the air was outside, clouded with a haze of visible smoke from spent cigars or rolled cigarettes, Wyatt single-mindedly headed straight for the bar. Ignoring the uncomfortable stickiness of sweat along his collar and along the creases of his suit, it wasn’t a new sensation after all these years spent further south than he had in the north.

03 — Solace ( fandom : top gun | status : complete )

A muffled yet audible thunk had Iceman’s gaze deviating from where it was fixated on the road towards the passenger side of his car, where Maverick was seated and had apparently fallen asleep in. Exhaustion having won out it seemed, causing the smaller pilot to literally knock his head against the window when his head had dipped downwards once unconciousness hit.

02 — Dash - Two ( fandom : top gun | status : in progress )

At the assigned push time twenty-two, Iceman ensured he was holding fix at two hundred-fifty knots and ready to commence approach. Allowing the mere seconds it took to confirm before he broke from the marshall holding stack stationed twenty-five nautical miles behind the carrier and held at ten angels, to begin to guide his aircraft to approach the carrier whilst radioing Mother, “Voodoo one-zero-four, commencing, 6.4, 30.01.”

01 — Fighting Chance ( fandom : star wars : the bad batch | status : in progress )

‘The runt is lagging behind again. And I’m not coddling him through another sim!’

The over-comms transmission highlighted the ‘CT-9911’ on Crosshair’s HUD. His gaze was momentarily drawn down towards Carve’s position from his perch in the southeastern tower, catching the end of a frustrated gesture from his batchmate towards another clone of smaller stature, who was crouched and peeking from around his cover with an altered DC-15 carbine clutched in his hands, the weapon seeming far too large for his slim frame.

There's the first paragraph of the first ten fics I have posted on Ao3 !

No pressure tagging : @krybes , @pain-in-the-asguardian , @theancientvaleofsoulmaking , @exlibrisfangirl , @ju1ian , @glaivenoct , @garbria , @ivorydice , @atlantis-is-burning , @inspirationmerls , @pollyna , @bisamwilson , @aithilin , @ourlordapollo , @sosooley , @wallywastaken , && anyone else who wishes to do this , I tag you !

[fushiguroll]

“hey, wake up”

gojo satoru rolled over, extremely annoyed at the sight in front of him. megumi fushiguro in his uniform and backpack and kicking the side of his mattress.

“what do you want? it’s my day off, I get to sleep in.”

“just wanted to remind you about the parent-teacher meeting. you and y/n need to be there at 12.”

right. the meeting that megumi’s homeroom teacher had called you about while you and gojo were out on your 7th anniversary dinner date.

“all because you had to beat up some poor kid.”

megumi looks down at his guardian’s sleepy figure, “thought you said I did a good job.”

“yeah, till I realized you getting in a fight is more of a punishment for me than you. now I can’t sleep in.”

“sleeping too much isn’t good for you.”

“just go to school.”

gojo plops back down in his bed and counts the minutes and the seconds. 3, 2, 1. right on cue, his door swings open as you march in. despite the fact that his eyes were trained on the ceiling, he just knows you were standing by the door, a hand on your hip, waiting for him to get up.

“satoru, are you up?”

“no.”

“we got megumi’s meeting in like two hours.”

“I know.” he sits up and pulls you in by the waist as soon as you were within arms reach. “I know because megumi-chan woke me up to remind me just before you came.”

he squeezes you tighter as you laugh and play with his hair, “well I do love that he takes after me and is a responsible young man. I raised him well.”

gojo smiles. ever since introducing you to the fushiguro siblings eight years ago, you’ve practically treated them like your own, making up for all the qualities Gojo lacks when it comes to disciplining and raising children up in the right way. the fact that megumi isnt sleeping in some juvenile center was probably because of you.

“satoru, we have to go over some things about the meeting. this is the third time megumi’s gotten in a fight this month and the third time we’re being called in to discuss his behavior,” you pull back to glare at him, trying to unlatch yourself from his grip, “— and you were super unhelpful the last two meetings.”

you wince at the memories of gojo laughing and trying to high-five megumi when told he knocked out two kids front teeth. good thing the black haired boy had the decency to keep his hands by his side and ignore his mentor’s invitation.

gojo chuckles, “what! I’m glad he knows how to throw a punch. meant I taught him well.”

“satoru…do you want megumi to be expelled?”

“I mean he could always come to jujutsu high.”

“gojo satoru.”

“ ‘m just kidding! you do not need to worry about me. I’ll be on my best behavior. in fact, I’ll shut up and leave all the talking to you.”

“you? the world’s strongest, gojo satoru, willing to shut up for a 30 minute meeting?”

he pouts, “It’s almost insulting you don’t believe me, but I promise you. you do all the talking and I’ll just look pretty and sit on the side.”

“okay fine, come on, let’s get breakfast before we head out.”

gojo smiles and follows you out the door. not talking for thirty minutes? piece of cake.

-

as promised, the white haired man sits down next to you and lets you take the lead as megumi’s homeroom teacher began to talk.

“mr and mrs. gojo, thank you for taking the time to come in today.”

gojo smiles to himself. how’d megumi’s homeroom teacher know that you’d be a “mrs. gojo soon?” he thinks of the little red box hidden in the upper corner of his closet.

“as you both know, megumi is a bright kid. but his tendency to resort to violence in concerning. I understand things might be tough for him at this age, but violence is not the way.”

“oh no, I wholeheartedly agree! we’ve raised megumi better than this and we apologize for the trouble he’s caused.”

you glance at your boyfriend, who nods, a solemn look on his face. so far so good. twenty minutes in and he’s not so much as uttered anything more than a “hi”.

“last time you told me megumi will be disciplined at home, but I wonder it’s effectiveness as his behaviors have only escalated. so I’d like to bring in megumi for this meeting as well and hear his thoughts to get a better understanding of his actions.”

megumi trudges through the door, keeping his eyes trained on the floor.

“megumi, why don’t you tell us why you’ve been acting this way?”

silence filled the room.

“megumi?” you parrot the teacher’s question, “honey, please talk to us. if you don’t say anything, how will we understand?”

the longer megumi stayed silent, the more gojo wanted to break the tension.

you give gojo a subtle glare once you notice his squirming. if you don’t wrap up this meeting soon, you know he’s going to end up saying something that will only make the situation worse.

“mrs. sato, I don’t think it’s right to force megumi. please give him one more chance. I’ll be sure to tal-“

“MEGUMI FUSHIGUROLL! IF YOU DONT ANSWER THIS SECOND IMMA GROUND YOU!”

gojo’s sudden intrusion scared everyone. and anyone could see him trying to hide his smile. Gojo satoru has always had the flair for the dramatic. but this was the worse time for drama.

you put on a polite smile, trying to find anyway to excuse his behavior, “sorry about the interruption mrs. sato, mr.gojo just gets a little too enthusiastic to teach Megumi some proper manne-“

this time you were cut off by the raven-haired boy. while megumi might not care about a lot of things, yet his freedom, and ability to come home anytime he want as long as it’s before 11 pm was something he valued.

“what do you mean grounded! you can’t ground me.”

“YES I CAN! and with that little outburst, youre grounded for…”

megumi glares at white haired man, trying to call his bluff.

“FOR TILL COLLEGE!”

“FOR TILL COLLEGE?” it was rare to hear megumi raise his voice.

“BOTH OF YOU CALM DOWN,” you were surprised by your own volume before clearing your throat, trying desperately for a redemption, “please calm down.”

“for till college and that’s final.” gojo settles back down in his seat, looking rather pleased with himself.

a moment of silence passes before mrs. sato speaks up. “I’m sorry but as evidenced by this meeting and the previous ones, megumi’s behavior is clearly a source of joke to you both and not taken seriously. he will be expelled effective immediately. we can no longer welcome him as a student here.”

“mrs. Sato, please, I-“

the teacher stands up and ushers all three of you to the door, “mrs.gojo, there is no need for excuses, this is my final decision. thank you for your understanding.”

as you try to reason with the teacher, gojo nudges megumi. “pretty convincing act there, huh?”

“so I’m not grounded?”

“course not! you knocked out four peoples’ teeth! doubled since the last time. did you use the jab I taught you?”

megumi nods and gojo raises his hand for a high-five.

“gojo satoru and megumi fushiguro .”

the two of them turn back in fear.

“princess, you heard that?” gojo swallows.

“home. now. and you two are in a lot of trouble.”

he sighs as he follows you to the parking lot. looks like keeping his mouth shut was much harder job than he thought.

[sean-kuraly]

list #2 066 with briss?

066: "take it easy, you're hurt"

The minute hockey season started, you made it a habit to go to every home game, at first it was to watch #19, an insanely cute guy in your freshman English class. By December, you were going to support your boyfriend, while you wore #19’s away jersey. Brendan Brisson was one of the sweetest guys you had ever met, he’s a little wild and a little immature, but when it’s just the two of you laying in your dorm at 3am, he’s softer than the massive teddy bear he got you for your two-week anniversary. The weather was dreary, overcast with a light sprinkling of rain as you made your way into Yost, this was a big game for the guys, Minnesota State was a good team this year and you know that they play aggressive. It’s half way through the third period when Bren hits the ice after being slammed straight into the boards by one of the other team’s defense. You’re sitting beside Audrey, Matty’s girlfriend, waiting for Bren to pop back up and play even harder, maybe even slam the guy into the glass as a little payback, after a solid few seconds he pops up, and you breathe a sigh of relief, only to see him skate straight to the bench Pearson already sending in a replacement. Audrey holds on to your arm when she sees you start to stand, “Y/N, you can’t go down there right now,” you know she’s right but Brendan Brisson is not the type of guy to get off the ice unless he’s forced to, seeing him leaving willingly- it means that something isn’t right. But you listen to her and you wait, anxiously fidgeting, all of your attention off the ice and on the bench, you don’t even see Luke score the winning goal right before the timer is up. The second the game’s over, you’ve shrugged off the hand Audrey’s had on your arm ever since Briss went down, and are half way to the locker room. As the guys slowly funnel out, they see you pacing the hallway waiting for Briss to hurry up and come out, until KJ comes and warns you, “He’s with one of the trainers, I think he’ll be there for a while.” After waiting for thirty some odd minutes, the door finally opens and out comes Bren wincing at every step, “Bren-,“ his face lights up when he sees you, going to embrace you before he lets out a quiet hiss of pain, “Oh honey- let’s go home, ok?” He doesn’t even try and complain, just softly nodding before reaching for your hand. The walk back to his dorm is long, the second you’re through the door he moves to start taking off his sweater, to try and get into something more comfortable, but you see his face when he goes to lift his arms, “Hey- take it easy, you’re hurt. Let me help,” the process of getting him out of his clothes is long and the process of getting him in to pajamas is even longer, but when he lays back letting out a sigh of relief, gesturing for you to join him, it’s all worth it, knowing that your boy is going to be ok even if he hurts now.

[davidhatter]

Getting Into Knives || Hatfish

baenxietydad​:

`

“We used to spend the day together, I’d let him skip school and we’d do pretty much anything he wanted. But last year he hungout with his friends, which. That’s fine, we all outgrow dad eventually, and it’s his birthday he can decide.” Mu-yeol smiled a little sadly, but you know, he meant it. Nemo was an adult now. And it was kind of silly to make a big deal out of his birthday still. Mu-yeol didn’t do anything for his except make himself seaweed soup after all, he didn’t care. “When he was little I liked to just take the day to hangout with him. His birthday’s the anniversary of the best day of my life after all.”

Okay, even he cringed at that. He laughed and ducked his head down.

“Oh my god, that was so cheesy, I can’t believe I said that. Dad-brain is…strong, even though I have an adult kid. Though the more I think about it, you’re right. Twenty, that’s a baby. If my son was like ‘hey Appa I’m going to get married’ when he was eighteen like I did I would have told him ‘no the hell you are not.’ I don’t even want to hear about him considering responsibilities until hes minimum thirty.”

--

Hatter could not attest to the validity of that statement but he thought, nah. If someone had a dad like Mr. Bae, who they had spent their whole life with and who still made them homemade meals, that one would never outgrow them. He knew he would have never outgrown his mother. But maybe he was biased since he hadn’t had the opportunity.

Which was probably why it was very nice to hear from the perspective of a parent. To hear how well loved a kid was, who was roaming the town right now. It made him think of Alice, who he didn’t think got to feel it. It made him think of Belle, who he didn’t think had it either and despite that produced it quite clearly for her own children. And so many others who crossed his path in that shoppe of his.

He smiled, shaking himself out of that emotional state, to nod at this. And then pause, brow furrowing as he tried to do some math. Mr. Bae had said he was born in ‘81. And his son was 20.... His head cocked to the side, “Do as I say, not as I do?”