#quality is not the best but fuck it we ball

[zorosroronoas]

Go Joon as NOH SANGCHEOL in 백설공주에게 죽음을: BLACK OUT (2024)

[moth-flowers]

moth-flowers #17

[dredgen-dumbass]

attempt #2 upload, fixed the glare (screw graphite) @tone-chan it's been done fr this time

[scalpelsister]

the little wolf of luskan

[nazumichi]

fighting for my life trying to convince myself that people in my life don’t hate me for the unforgivable crime of uhhhh. asking for things.

[heechwe]

miss americana | 𝖕𝖘𝖍

➸ second anthology piece in "basketball (inkchwe's version)" and story-inspired playlist also can be found there too! ୨୧ pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 9.8k ୨୧ genre: fluff, angst, smut ୨୧ tags: basketballplayer!heesung, cheerleader!reader, established relationship, exes to lovers au, high school au, heavy petting, marking, oral (f receiving) penetration (all characters are of age!) ୨୧ synopsis: Fed up with Sunghoon's attitude and petty games, you move on, hopefully to something better. Why did he have to realize how important you were to him once you were already gone? ��� a/n: bless @mini-mews for being there every step of the way with this fic, it was amazing seeing all of the comments and reactions and i could not have asked for a better beta ♡

DECEMBER

Sunghoon could have made the winning shot if it weren’t for the praise that was placed on someone else for so long. Lee Heeseung was the best shooting guard his high school had ever seen; anyone with talent and passion for the sport could see that. At the same time, Sunghoon made a lot of calls as the small forward that were imperative to the success of the team. From scoring to handling the ball, Sunghoon could do it all and then some.

If only the captain, the old fart, saw that. And Heeseung, the sanctimonious prick, appreciated him more.

Sunghoon is so wrapped up in his bitter thoughts he can barely focus on your lips attached to his neck and your legs around his waist. You both were cramped in the driver’s side of his car, but you managed to make yourself fit on Sunghoon’s lap to straddle him. In the dark of night, only the two of you parked on the basketball court by the river, you decided to give him a reminder of what the most important thing in his life was outside of winning the championship. 

Sunghoon usually spent times like these celebrating with his other teammates, but something was sitting in the front of his mind like a fly he couldn’t swat. You can tell in the furrow of his brows and his scrunched-up mouth. He may not be able to focus on going out and drinking, but it was a benefit to you. Maybe he would finally spend some time with you like he used to.

“Heeseung acts like everyone should worship the ground he walks on. Yeah, he won the game tonight, so what? I could score as many baskets as him if I wanted. And I’ve played as many games as his ass and won. Even once when I had chicken pox.” Sunghoon continues on his rant, unbothered by your mouth and hands on him. You run both of your palms inside of his jersey and feel the skin of his abs underneath your fingers, but Sunghoon doesn’t budge.

“I think you did great, who cares?” You mumble into his neck, focused on making him feel pleasure rather than irritation. You move Sunghoon’s hands to cup your backside, the cheer shorts under your skirt riding up to expose your upper thighs.

“Whatever,” Sunghoon grumbles, eyes looking past you and towards the window.

“What do you mean ‘whatever’?” You pull away from him to look in his eyes. He’s a million miles away, not bothering to pay attention to your impending frustration. His only concerns are himself and his feelings. “Seriously, get over this attitude and talk to me if you’re not gonna at least act interested.”

Sunghoon lets out a frustrated groan and pushes you back into the passenger seat. You yelp in the process, barely landing on your ass. “What the fuck, Hoon?”

“Don’t you see I’m upset and maybe I don’t want to spend another night making out?”

“Another—“ You huff out a breath, shocked at his audacity. “When was the last time we actually spent quality time together?” Before Sunghoon can answer with a basic response, you interrupt him. “And by ‘quality time,” I don’t mean with the guys or Jongseong in attendance.”

“That’s not fair.” Sunghoon tries to hit you with his signature pout, but you don’t budge.

“What’s not fair is that I’m supposed to be your girlfriend but all you care about is huffing and puffing about basketball, complaining about not being the captain, or being a huge jackass.”

“If that’s all I do, then why the fuck are you still around?” Sunghoon bites back, venom dripping from every word.

You look at him with wide eyes, seeing him clearly for the first time in months. After the latter half of the year you’ve been together being a disappointment of epic proportions, the veil finally lifted. Sunghoon does have a point. What are you still doing with him?

“You know what? You’re right.” You exit Sunghoon’s Denali with a grunt and fix your makeup, not letting the tears that threaten to escape fall from your cheeks.

“What are you doing now?”

“You’re right. I’m not gonna waste my time anymore. I’m done.” You slam the passenger door closed and begin your walk from the basketball court to your house, determined not to look back. If he wanted to be that way, then you deserved better.

You hear the slow, incoming huff of Sunghoon’s car, and he rolls the window down to continue your conversation. His lips are in a thin line, his annoyance at an all-time high but now directed completely at you. He says, “So I guess I’ll call you when you’re not so hormonal?”

“Don’t bother. Just fuck off, Sunghoon.”

He nods his head with an angry smirk and rolls the window back up. In a sudden screech, his car races down the empty street, leaving you alone in the night to cry. You weep not just for the future you saw with him coming to a sudden end, but for the past Sunghoon who you believed would never treat you this way now.

You shut your locker with an angry hand, a resounding slam filling the hallway. The strangers around you flinch in response and whisper, some unsure why the head cheerleader is in such a mood today.

“Didn’t you hear? Her and Sunghoon are done,” one of them speaks in a hushed tone.

“Damn. And right after his win? Heartless,” another says with the click of their tongue.

“How about you guys mind your fucking business?” You spit the words in their direction with force before walking away towards your calculus class. 

As if anyone knows anything about your relationship or how it came to end. The vipers are always ready to strike when a new hint of gossip comes around, no matter who gets hurt in the process.

To add salt to the wound, Sunghoon saunters up to you and tries to wrap his arm around your shoulder. You shrug him off with a tired grunt.

Many times before you had fought and made up as if the day prior never happened, all smiles and no tears in sight. But you’re tired of the same game you always played with each other. You think to yourself about the way he spoke to you two days ago, and how you would tell any other friend they deserve better.

And you definitely deserve better than that.

“Are you still mad?” Sunghoon asks with a whine. Typically, his childlike voice would make you laugh. Right now, you just feel vomit in the back of your throat.

“I’m not mad. We’re over.” You speak with a defeated but definitive tone, the end of your sentence falling into a whisper.

What’s the point of fighting anymore? With an outside perspective you did not have previously, you realized how exhausting it was going up and down with someone you were supposed to love.

Sunghoon doesn’t keep up with you, somehow understanding from the resignation in your voice and simple response that, as far as you were concerned, you were done with him.

“Goddamnit,” you curse, trying to make the lighter flick to life. For all the times you tried coaxing a flame from the device, it would not budge. First you had to deal with the onslaught of rumors circulating about your sudden breakup, and now you could barely get a lighter to work. Why did Mondays always have to be so awful?

Exhausted, you throw the pack of cigarettes and lighter into the open air. Both objects fall somewhere onto the football field, but you barely notice. You’re too focused on the tears in your eyes and the sobs that leave your mouth to pay attention to anything else.

You know it’s pathetic to sit on the bleachers and cry by yourself about the breakdown of your relationship, but the cyclone of emotions didn’t ask for permission when it hit you. It just did, violently and with little care for your wellbeing. You’re just glad to have the quiet time now to deal with the storm by yourself.

Or so you thought.

Someone walks up to you with both your cigarettes and lighter in his hands. Bang Chan, head quarterback for the football team and senior, smiles at you when you do look up in his direction. He steps back an inch when he notices your puffy eyes and red face. “Sorry,” he says. “Just saw you…lost these…and didn’t know if you wanted them back or not.”

You shake your head. “Throw them out if you want.”

Chan releases a surprised sigh. “Didn’t expect a cheerleader to smoke tobacco.”

His insight makes a smile appear on your lips in spite of the tears. “I never have. I just thought since I kicked one bad habit, why not replace it with another one?”

Chan laughs. He sits down next to you, but stays mindful of your space. “Sunghoon, right?”

You nod, his name a pit in your stomach. “You know him?”

”Just his reputation. Basketball guys can be real assholes.”

”And what about football players?” You counter. “You’re all just perfect angels?”

”Well, we prefer to call ourselves ‘realists’.” You share a laugh with him, relieved to feel something other than apathy or misery. It’s been so long since you’ve been around a guy who didn’t make you doubtful of yourself. Why not enjoy it?

You give Chan your name, but he tells you he was well aware of your presence before. “I mean, you cheer at our games too, y’know, so you’re hard not to notice.”

You blush, your puffy face suddenly red from the comment. “Well, you’re hard not to notice too, Chan.”

Maybe the future for you and Sunghoon had not played out the way you intended, but your future with someone else could potentially be pretty great.

JANUARY

Sunghoon feels pretty out of place every year once the end of the basketball season comes around. Now that he’s single, he wonders what could fill his spare time in a meaningful way. Besides academics, he comes up empty with ideas. 

He wouldn’t have chosen to be broken up with, but what else could he have done? He wasn’t going to grovel, not when you were the one making a big deal out of one fight. Eventually, you would come to your senses and come back. You both loved each other too much not to resolve the situation, even if weeks had rolled by without any communication.

Sunghoon is walking with Jay to second period when he sees you chatting with Chan, all smiles and body too close to the senior’s for Sunghoon’s comfort. Jay notices how tense his friend becomes seeing both you and Chan together, shoulders rigid and jaw tight.

”Would it be so bad if you just apologized? Even if you think you didn’t do anything wrong—“

”I know I didn’t,” Sunghoon cuts in, pissed off at the situation he’s in. How did Chan have any right to try and pull the charm out now that you’re available? It makes the blood inside of Sunghoon’s veins boil to a scorching temperature.

”You love her, man. Stop trying to be nonchalant about your feelings.”

The bell for late students rings, and everyone still in the hallway scatters to make it to their classes. Sunghoon feels the muscles in his body twitch seeing you walk away with Chan, arm in arm like you’re the closest of friends.

Writing notes for your physics class is hard when your best friend Wonyoung talks the entire time, her voice projecting to a high shrill. You manage to write while listening to her impassioned speech, but you stop altogether when the subject comes to you and Chan.

”When is he going to ask you out already? Everyone sees the way he looks at you.” Wonyoung bats her eyelashes with a suggestive smirk, and you thwack her away with your notebook.

”We’re just friends. And I’m not trying to date anyone right now.”

”Come on. It’s been three weeks. Nobody would blame you for putting yourself back out there.”

The intercom blares to life, and you hear your name and the request to be seen in the front office. You take your belongings in case the request involves some sort of emergency, your thoughts racing as you head out the door.

When you make it to the front office, all you see is Sunghoon with his back against the secretary’s counter, grinning ear to ear. You’re both alone for the first time since you broke up, and the awkwardness you feel is suffocating.

”Did you do this?” You ask, eyes rolling at his nonchalant posture.

“Miss Kang owed me a favor.” His eyes are vulnerable suddenly, the cloud of indifference shredding a touch. ”Besides, I wanted to see you.”

 Those words would’ve made you melt a long time ago, the early days of your relationship marked with gestures like this and sweet nothings leaving his lips. Now, you feel so far from the girl you were when you broke up with him.

”Well I want to get my lab done, so if you’ll excuse me—“

”Wait, wait, please.” He rushes to stop you from leaving the tiny office, his arm firm against the glass door in front of you.

”Sunghoon, this is not—“

”Please, just hear me out.”

You cross your arms and straighten your posture into a firm stance, looking directly in his eyes while waiting for the usual speech to leave his mouth.

You know you’re the only one I want.

”You know you’re the only one I want.”

My intention is never to fight with you.

”My intention is never to fight with you.”

All I want is to work this out, please.

”All I want is to work this out, please.”

You can’t help the broken laugh that leaves your lips, or the well of tears that build up behind your lashes. It’s both heartbreaking and comical that he thinks after weeks of nothing to show for his sudden humility, his half-baked, used-up monologue is the best way to mend your problems.

”Is that it?” you ask, deadpan.

Sunghoon stutters, suddenly at a loss for words. “What do you mean?”

”Is that all you want to say? ‘Cause if it is, then—”

”Why are you being like this?” His pleading tone suddenly becomes one of irritation. He’s not used to you putting up a fight, and now that you are, he doesn’t know how to handle it, like a toddler who can’t find their toy.

That’s all you were to him at the end of the day. A shiny doll to play with and discard when the circumstances didn’t suit him.

“I’m being like this because this is nothing new. And in another couple of days, it’ll be the same problems and the same excuses. It’s gotten old.” You walk out of the door, but hold it open just a touch to give him the last piece of your mind.

”You know what the worst part is, Sunghoon?” You clear your throat, failing to conceal the pain in your voice. “You didn’t even say you want me back because you love me.”

”Of course I love you!”

”Why? Why do you love me?” You throw your hands up at him, voice in tatters from how loud you’re screaming.

His response is exactly what you expected: nothing. No words come to mind or are adequate enough to describe the depth of his feelings for you, or lack thereof.

”That’s what I thought,” you say before walking away. If those are the last words you ever say to him, you’re glad you got them off of your chest.

The Spring Formal was all the talk of Sunghoon’s friends and their girlfriends once the date of the dance was announced. It was two months away, yet the hallways and classes were already littered with hearts and pink banners. Dance proposals were rampant, some even going viral on the school’s social media accounts.

It made Sunghoon sick to his stomach.

Four days ago, he thought he could win you back, but it only made you run further away from him. Was he that predictable? And what did that beefhead Chan have now that Sunghoon suddenly didn’t?

Playing video games with the guys and Heeseung’s girlfriend in attendance, he hoped it would take his mind off of things. But seeing his off-and-on adversary and partner loved up in the corner of Jake’s room didn’t help.

Sunghoon looks at the two of them laughing in each other’s arms and remembers the feeling of your body in his, the first weeks of dating being some of the best of his life. The quick texts during class, the impromptu kisses in his car before saying goodnight, and the secret drives to the beach on the weekends. He remembers them all, even if his cold nature made you think he had forgotten them with a cruel ease.

The memories pain his heart, and the image of a happy couple still basking in their newfound love does nothing but twist the knife.

“Can you guys not be all over each other in front of us? It’s disgusting.” Sunghoon remarks with sarcasm as he shoots one of Jake’s CPUs down. His friend grunts and tries to take out a person on Sunghoon’s team to even the playing field. 

Heeseung’s girlfriend quirks an eyebrow, still focused on her boyfriend but ready to throw a comeback Sunghoon’s way. “Aw, someone’s jealous, isn’t he?”

Her saying the words out loud causes the entire room to go quiet. The only sounds come from the TV and automated game dialogue.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Sunghoon responds, his voice at a new low.

“Hey man. Watch how you speak to my girlfriend,” Heeseung interrupts, ready to jump from the beanbag he’s sitting in to put his teammate in his place.

His girlfriend places a tender hand on his forearm. “I got this, Hee.” She turns her attention back to Sunghoon, the ghost of a smirk on her lips. “I meant exactly what I said. Your girlfriend was tired of you being a complete prick to everyone, including her.”

Heeseung says his girlfriend’s name in warning, knowing she’s gone a bit too far, no matter how true her words are.

She doesn’t stop though, and Sunghoon is too shocked to form a sentence. “And seeing anyone else happy makes you realize how bad you fucked up and why she was right to drop you.”

Jake makes a face at her too, silently pleading for an end to the fight before more things are said that can’t be taken back.

Sunghoon throws the controller at the TV stand, the device breaking once it hits the wood. Jake and Heeseung curse at him for his reaction, but Sunghoon storms out of the bedroom before he lets his anger go any further.

He sits on the stairs in front of his friend’s house and feels the prick of tears in his eyes. It’s rare for him to allow himself to be vulnerable. The only person in his life who saw him this way was you, and without you, he doesn’t know how to pull himself back from the precipice. Was what Heeseung’s girlfriend said true? Were you right to leave him? Did he not deserve any more chances to do right by you, given how many times he fucked it up before, no matter how much he loved you?

In spite of everything he’s done wrong, he still does. He loves your fire, the stubbornness that mirrors his own so perfectly. He loves your crude sense of humor, the way you can make a joke out of anything, even in the worst of times to make him laugh. And he loves your sweetness, your capability to think of others before yourself, something he’s never been good at and always admired about you even if he never said it. He never said a lot of things he should’ve.

The questions and regrets flood his brain and make him wish he had a time machine. He would go back to the last hour you were together before everything fell apart. To be happy to have you in his arms and grateful to still hold your respect, your effort, and your love.

He hears someone walk up to him, but he doesn’t bother to look. “I’ll apologize later, okay, Jake? I don’t need a lecture right now.”

The feminine grumble makes Sunghoon turn his head, not expecting to see Heeseung’s girlfriend behind him.

“I came to apologize to you.”

Sunghoon looks back to the street in front of him. He decides to avoid prolonging the argument and nods his head. “It’s fine. You didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

“Doesn’t mean it was okay.” She settles down on the stairs next to him. Sunghoon wiggles further towards the railing to make room for her. “Everyone deserves a chance to make things right. Even if they’ve been wrong a lot of the time.”

He discreetly wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater. “Even someone like me?”

She chuckles. “Especially someone like you.”

“I’m sorry, too.” Sunghoon doesn’t need to say the multitude of reasons why she deserves an apology. But it makes the aggression between the both of them, as well as a fragment of the guilt in Sunghoon’s heart, dissipate. All that’s left is relief.

She grins, the same feelings evident in her expression. “Apology accepted.”

Sunghoon lets a small smile appear on his lips. He has to practice apologizing more often; the feeling of making amends is pretty satisfying.

FEBRUARY

“Wonyoung, I don’t know where it is!” You say into the receiver of your phone, one hand holding the device to your face as the other rifles through the belongings in your locker. “And I doubt your bracelet is in here.”

“It has to be! I can’t think of any other place it could’ve gone,” she whines, sniffling. It isn’t her fault she’s home sick today, but she would get through her cold just fine without her lucky bracelet. As far as she’s concerned, however, it’s a matter of life and death.

“I’m sure we’ll find it so you can get over this cold,” you coddle her, still searching past the books and bags of snacks.

“I don’t care about that!” Her stuffy, squeaky voice makes you move the phone away from your ear. “I need it for the charity auction. How else are we going to get all of the items sold if I don’t have it?”

You roll your eyes, grateful she can’t see. “Just wow the PTA and student body with your impeccable charm.”

“Yeah yeah, have you found it yet?”

As you continue your search, an array of your belongings tumble out of your locker. You curse and bend down to pick the contents up. Most of them are some old notes for your current classes, but one makes you stop cold. 

Wonyoung’s words fade into the background as you hold up the photo strip of you and Sunghoon. The snapshots captured a perfect moment in time before the last six months of your relationship made everything take a turn for the worst.

“You can’t flip off the camera, Hoon!” You giggle as the timer starts for the next picture.

“It’s our pictures, so I have every right to use my middle finger whenever I want.” He nestles his head further into your neck, kissing the spot below your ear. You may be cramped sitting on Sunghoon’s lap in the photo booth of the arcade, but there’s no other place you’d rather be than with him.

As you laugh at his subsequent joke, the shutter goes off again.

“Your laugh is one of my favorite sounds, you know.” Sunghoon moves a stray hair away from your face, smiling ear to ear.

“That’s funny,” you say with a smirk. “That smile is my favorite thing ever.”

“Fuck off.” Sunghoon suddenly becomes shy, his cheeks turning pink.

“I swear, cross my heart.” You raise your hand in salute, and Sunghoon intertwines your fingers with his own.

As you seal your promise with a tender kiss to his lips, you hear the final click of the camera, content with whatever comes next.

You muffle your mouth with your hands, stifling the sob that started to leave your lips.

“Babe, you alright?” Wonyoung asks, another sniffle ending her question.

“Yeah I-I’m okay.” You shake off your sadness and stuff the photo strip in your locker again, half-determined to throw it in the trash nearby. “I gotta go, lunch is gonna be over in like fifteen minutes.”

“Okay. Next place would probably be your car, so just let me know later if you find it. Love you,” Wonyoung says at the end of the call.

Putting your phone in your back pocket and walking back towards the courtyard, you hear the rustle of hands clapping and feet stomping. Everyone at their picnic tables, like you, look towards the sounds.

The football team, all huddled up, begin chanting once you make it closer to them.

“Hey girl, you need a date. Why not make it #8?” They say the words in a morale-boosting rhythm, repeating them with vigor until other tables around them start chanting too. When the huddle opens at the center, Chan appears with a bouquet of flowers and a huge grin.

The team stops once he’s in front of you, Chan shy but determined. Once he gives you the bouquet, he asks, “Wanna be my date to the formal?”

You hide your face in your hands, a wide grin on your face in spite of your sudden bashfulness. Public proposals were never your thing, but with how much effort the guy put into the surprise, how could you say no?

“I’d love to,” you answer, giving him a hug as the crowd around you hollers in support. You’re grateful to have had Chan these past months while dealing with your heartbreak, it seemed to be a natural progression of your relationship. And while nothing’s set in stone, you’re happy something’s on the horizon for you.

But if you’re so happy, why is Sunghoon the first thing that pops in your head after you agree to Chan’s offer?

Thankfully, Wonyoung’s bracelet was in fact in your car behind the passenger seat. How she managed to get it back there was anyone’s guess, but hopefully that meant she would not be so freaked out about the charity auction next week.

In honor of Valentine’s Day, the high school allowed the cheerleading team to host a charity auction every year for a local nonprofit. This year’s was meant to be for the city’s homeless shelter. You worked there last summer to accumulate volunteer hours, and the people you met there had been on your mind every day since. Your goal was to make at least two thousand, but you wish you could do and earn more on your own accord for them. It was important to give back to others when you had so much and took it for granted. Some knew that better than others.

While printing pamphlets and auction tickets, your doorbell rang. You didn’t expect Wonyoung to be up to seeing anyone given her unwell state earlier on the phone, but it was her lucky bracelet. The faster she had it back in her possession the better.

Pulling the door open, the last person you expect to be waiting at your door is Sunghoon. His expression is an amalgamation of emotions, the biggest ones being disbelief and sorrow.

Any time before, back when he was your entire world, you would have pulled him into your arms and kissed away his pain. Even if you hate to admit it to yourself, a part of you still wishes you could.

But while you can be empathetic, you still have to be tough in his presence. Any sign of fragility, and he’ll see the opportunity to creep back in. “Why are you here, Sunghoon?”

“You’re dating him now?”

You furrow your brows in confusion. “What?”

“Chan. You’re together?” You see the tremble of his bottom lip and the lock of his jaw, his composure clearly hanging by a thread. It’s been a long time since you saw Sunghoon so unguarded, you’re unsure if it’s because he’s truly vulnerable or he’s on his last play to win you back.

No matter the reason, you answer with an exasperated sigh. “He just asked me to the formal, okay? He’s my friend.”

“Friends don’t ask friends to go to the dance with flowers.”

You bite your bottom lip, unsure what to say to that. “It doesn’t concern you anymore.”

Sunghoon releases a bitter chuckle, the sound of the laughter dying on his tongue midway. “It does concern me if you’re with someone else.”

“I just told you–”

“I get that.” He runs a hand through his hair, his voice frail at the edges. “But I know what it's like to want you, and I see it when Chan looks at you. And who can blame him right?”

Taking advantage of your stunned silence, Sunghoon keeps going. “When you asked me before why I love you, I didn’t realize how much I took advantage of you. I didn’t appreciate you the way I should’ve, and now I–I miss so many things. I miss the smell of your perfume in my car and the look you’d give me when you were calling me out on my bullshit, which was eighty-five percent of the time. I miss knowing you had my back even if I was in the wrong because you saw the best parts of me on days I didn’t see them at all.

“I miss you, and I love you, and I don’t know how to stop,” Sunghoon whispers. When he tries to step closer to you, you place a hand on his chest, safeguarding some sort of distance and composure between you. He presses his hand over yours, thumb rubbing across the skin on the back of your hand, making you suck in a breath.

It was every word and more that you yearned to hear from him since you parted ways. While the naysayers continued their dialogue about the demise of your relationship, nobody bothered to think about whether or not you wanted to let go in the first place. You had to, or it would’ve been the same patterns occurring over and over.

Maybe this moment, this speech, and this Sunghoon, can be a break in the chain. Maybe he’s truly adamant on turning over a new leaf for the better, for the chance to try again and do it right this time. Would it be so wrong to take the chance and give him the benefit of the doubt one more time?

But who truly knew he would change his ways except for Sunghoon himself? Could you run the risk of the cycle repeating itself again for the future you wanted? How were you meant to believe him this time with history on your side?

You retract your hand from his chest, your heart cracking in the parts he forced you to mend in the first place. “I can’t do this.”

He swallows forcefully and takes a step back, respecting your wishes. “I understand.” He walks down your driveway and to his car, leaving you with the image of his somber, close-lipped smile.

Sunghoon watches you walk back into your house, his heart in tatters. He looks at the bundle of roses sitting in the passenger seat and promises to himself to fight just a little longer. Giving up means losing you forever, and he’ll die before accepting that loss.

A big banner for the homeless shelter hangs on one of the gymnasium walls. The cheerleaders continue placing decor around the space for tomorrow’s auction, some hand-drawn by the girls and others donated from the PTA in previous years. You look around with your clipboard, items checked off throughout the day to signal your progress. With less than twenty-four hours to go before the auction, it was imperative to create the perfect atmosphere to sell as many items as possible.

Wonyoung skips over to you, her pigtails swinging in the air and a cluster of colorful streamers dangling from her hands. “Where do you want these, babe?”

“Lining the front of the bleachers. That way once the tables are set up we don’t have to work around them.” You check off another bullet, 

“You got it boss!” She winks at you, her expression teasing. Before she can walk away though, Principal Han and Coach Chae walk into the gym. Coach Chae has a bouquet while Principal Han holds a thin piece of paper.

The two gentlemen walk up to you and Wonyoung, beaming. “Great turn of events ladies,” Principal Han says. “The auction has been canceled.”

“What,” Wonyoung yells. The two men flinch at her reaction, but Coach Chae laughs off his reaction.

“No need to worry, Miss Jang,” Coach Chae responds. “There will still be a gala. Just not an auction. Think of it as a celebratory gala, if you will.”

“What do you mean?” You ask. You press your clipboard tighter to your chest, anxiety spiking. You put your heart into this event for the success of the fundraiser. Why was it suddenly crashing down?

“Someone already donated more than enough to reach your goal. Five thousand, to be exact.”

A silent gasp leaves your lips. The clipboard almost slips from your fingers, but Wonyoung manages to catch it before it clatters onto the gym floor.

”Holy sh—sorry. Holy moly!” Wonyoung exclaims, a smile matching the ones on the older gentlemen’s faces.

“Congratulations, girls. Now you can kick your feet up and enjoy the festivities tomorrow all thanks to your mystery donor,” Principal Han says.

”Mystery donor?” The mix of emotions in your stomach morphs to confused curiosity. “They didn’t leave their name on the check?”

”No. Just the card that came with the flowers,” Coach Chae answers. He hands the bouquet of roses and the comment card to you, the floral smell suddenly wafting in your nose.

You could recognize the script anywhere, the slants and slopes of the handwriting belonging to only one person. The contents of the card make your heart swell and sink deeper, causing you to question everything once more.

For reminding me to cherish all the things I took for granted.

MARCH

On the night of the Spring Formal, a week had passed since that day in the gymnasium which upended a majority of your feelings. Your thoughts have run rampant in your mind since, regrets and doubts sitting at the forefront of your brain.

Your mother was fixing the last pieces of your hair into the intricate bun she created. Looking in the mirror, the tendrils of your bangs falling out from the hairstyle frame your face. Grace exudes from your makeup and the dress you’ve chosen, the strapless champagne gown the centerpiece of your entire look.

”You’re a vision, honey,” She says, her eyes bright in the hallway mirror behind you.

You may look beautiful, but your thoughts make you feel small, unsure of everything you thought you knew or wanted before.

You had not seen Sunghoon since that night on your front porch almost two weeks ago, your ex choosing to respect your wishes and stay away just as you requested. Now, in spite of all the ways he vexed you to no end, you missed him just like he said he missed you. Maybe you suppressed yourself from grieving the end of your relationship, jumping headfirst into a new friendship with Chan and the other priorities in your life. Or maybe it was because he still had your entire heart, even if you wished he didn’t.

”Chan should be here any minute,” your mother says, interrupting your thoughts.

You respond with a nod and small smile, fidgeting with the top of your dress to conceal some of your cleavage.

Your mother frowns. ”Honey, what’s wrong?” She puts her hands on your shoulders, her presence the right amount of concerned and warm.

”Do you think people can change?”

She gives you a knowing smile, the topic of conversation not being said out loud but obvious to the both of you. “When someone has the desire to, they can. Especially when they have a good reason to.”

The doorbell rings, and she kisses you on the cheek. “I’ll let you get that. I’m gonna run and grab the camera.”

You answer the door, half-expecting to see Chan with flowers and his signature grin. What you find, however, makes your heart constrict with surprise and longing that you didn’t expect to feel so strongly.

Sunghoon in a three-piece suit, hair slicked back, and a corsage looks like the picture-perfect man. When you envisioned this night before, the image of him in front of you always came to mind. And now, you could not be closer to and further from those expectations.

“I wanted to give you this before…I mean, I already bought it, and you deserve to have it.” He twiddles the corsage between his hands. His eyes ask for explicit permission before he places it on your wrist.

Without a second thought, you nod.

Sunghoon steps closer, relieved to have received the green light. The tension between you is palpable in the air, flickering hot and reflecting the same feelings you harbored weeks ago when you were in the same position then. He carefully puts the strap around your wrist, tightening it until it’s snug. 

The golden-trimmed roses match your dress flawlessly, so much so you wonder how he managed to remember the color of the dress you dreamed of for this night.

Like he can read your mind, he says, “You’ve been talking about this dance since the start of the school year.” He laughs, the sound hollow.

“Thank you,” you say, the two words expanding far beyond the roses on your wrist.

Thank you for the flowers. Thank you for going above and beyond with that check. Thank you for showing you’re trying.

The smile he gives you touches his eyes, the edges of his expression almost golden in the light of the sunset. “It’s the least I could do.”

Without thinking, he’s so close you can feel the rising pace of his and your breath mixing together. It would be so easy to close the distance, touch his lips with yours, and fall back into his embrace with no regard for the next minute.

Before you can contemplate it further, you see Chan out of the corner of your eye walking up your driveway. His mouth is in a firm line and his posture reflects his discomfort.

Sunghoon steps away from you. He acknowledges Chan with a nod, not terse or disrespectful, but clearly disappointed. He kisses the back of your palm quickly and lets it go. “Have fun tonight, okay?”

Before he walks away for good, leaving you and Chan alone, he finishes with, “By the way, you look breathtaking.”

As Chan gets closer and Sunghoon heads down the road to his car, you think maybe your ex is taking all of your breath with him.

Sunghoon downs the drink in the plastic cup. The tinge of alcohol Jay put in his drink can’t seem to take away the burn of watching you and Chan dance together. The DJ for the dance is playing  an uptempo number. Thankfully you’re not holding each other close, but it’s still a punch to the stomach seeing you smiling with a guy that isn’t him. In a gym filled with so many of his peers, he’s never felt so alone.

He drove to the dance by himself, Jake and Jay too entangled in their own love lives to soften the blow of Sunghoon’s continued misery. Heeseung and his girlfriend remain loved up in their own private corner of the dance floor. Sunghoon isn’t jealous or petty, though, although he’s well-accustomed to both emotions at this point. All he feels is some semblance of gratitude for the people enjoying the festivities of the night with a person they care about.

Heeseung’s girlfriend steps away from her partner with a kiss on his lips, somehow sensing Sunghoon’s despair. She walks over to him, a sad smile on her face as she approaches the lone guy at his idle table. “No luck, huh?”

Sunghoon nods and tips his drink at her. “You could say that.”

Heeseung comes up in record time, Sunghoon’s teammate unable to stay away from his lover for too long. He clears his throat and looks toward the younger guy with quiet condolences. “Listen, Hoon. Just talk to her and be honest. Stop dancing around your feelings.”

Sunghoon scoffs into his cup, the sound echoing in the plastic. “As if I could steal her away from beefcake over there. Like your missus said, she’s better off.”

“You know I apologized for that!” Heeseung’s girlfriend mirrors Sunghoon’s reaction, puffing out a breath of air and rolling her eyes. “And if that’s the case, why has she been looking over here at least every five minutes?”

Sunghoon glances past the rim of his cup and catches you staring just as Heeseung’s girlfriend makes her point.

Your eyes are filled with a plethora of unspoken feelings, ones Sunghoon may have the words for but cannot manage to speak. Why did words hold so much more power when it was too late to say them? Did he still have time at all, or was the opportunity to be transparent long gone? It’s too much to process; all he can do is look away from you, the guilt hitting him square in his chest.

Heeseung and his girlfriend share a conspiratory look, plotting something. Sunghoon takes a gulp of air, unsure if he wants to know exactly what they’re planning.

“Be on the rooftop in ten minutes. And make sure you know what you’re gonna say, idiot,” Heeseung’s girlfriend commands, her smirk flashing wickedly under the gymnasium lights.

“Hey!” Heeseung and his girlfriend run up to your spot by the punch bowl. You were absentmindedly staring at the fruit concoction in the tub while Chan had raced off to the bathroom, promising to be back in five.

“What’s up?” You ask, giving his girlfriend a polite and acknowledging smile.

“Something happened on the rooftop with one of the girls on the squad. I think she got food poisoning or something,”

“Yeah,” Heeseung’s girlfriend comments. “Wonyoung told us to get you ‘cause she needs some help bringing the poor girl back downstairs.”

You roll your eyes and set your cup on the plastic table in front of you. If it’s Leeseo again, you may just have to kill her.

The couple follows close behind as you make it to the stairwell door leading up to the rooftop. You wonder why the two didn’t help Wonyoung in the first place, but maybe the girl in question requested you personally and didn’t want to be embarrassed by being assisted by strangers.

Opening the rooftop entrance, you see Sunghoon standing near the edge, kicking gravel off the side of the building. Your heart seizes up, glad but caught off-guard to be seeing him right now.

In an instant, the door closes behind you, locking from the outside. You bang on it, unsure what’s happening. “What the fuck, guys?”

“You’re not coming out until we hear some talking!”

The sudden quiet is deafening, the only reprieve being the breeze passing through the trees surrounding the school. You run your hands across your arms, feeling the chill now that you’re outside but also unsure of what to do in this situation.

Sunghoon immediately sheds his jacket and walks over to you. He waits with the article in his hands before you nod meekly. He wraps it around your shoulders protectively, making sure your arms go through the sleeves. “Better?”

“Much, thank you,” you whisper.

Sunghoon looks deeply into your eyes, knocking any subsequent words from your conscious mind. You bite your lip instinctively, tense from his lack of distance between your bodies. Why did he still have the capability to steal your train of thought without trying?

He blows out a breath, the sound of his voice flimsy in the spring air. “When I first joined the basketball team, I didn’t know if and how I would measure up,” Sunghoon begins. “I was fifteen and terrified of playing next to someone as good as Heeseung and always being compared to him.

“And I took all those worries about being not good enough and took it out on everyone. I let it ruin the most perfect thing in my life because I thought acting like I didn’t care would stop me from feeling insecure. What an idiot, right?”

Sunghoon brushes a free bang from your face. His eyes are glassy, the vulnerability he’s showing you at an all-time high. “I should’ve realized the girl I love didn’t care if I was the best or the worst basketball player ever, as long as I was hers and didn’t forget it. I just didn’t know it then. And now that I’ve realized what a fool I’ve been, all I want now is to spend the rest of my time making it up to her.”

The confession knocks any remaining resolve out of you, unable to bear the pain in his face or the uncertainty that hangs in the air. You slam your lips into his, the kiss both bruising and healing in the same motion. It rejuvenates all the parts of you that had been withered away since the night you broke up and couldn’t be revived without him.

Sunghoon feels the effects of the kiss as well, his gasps and whimpers exemplifying his surprise and relief to have you back in his arms. Holding you, kissing you, being with you, you can tell he’s worried the moment’s a figment of his imagination. If he doesn’t cherish it, you’ll float away. And he can’t survive that for a second time.

You part for air, but your lips still ghost over each other’s, unable to be parted now that he’s within your reach again.

With your voice laced with the unshed tears in your eyes, you ask, “What took you so damn long, you idiot?”

Sunghoon can only respond with a joyful laugh and another kiss to your lips, making up for his unsaid apologies and shit timing with his mouth.

Now that your body is against his, your hearts beating rapidly but once-again in tune with each other, he’s certain now he’ll never be stupid enough to forget your worth and let you go again. Because the pleasure he used to call home is back in his life, and he couldn’t feel more at ease.

Sunghoon’s laughing when he unlocks the front door of his house, his face in a permanent grin since you kissed a few hours prior. You spent the time before ending up here driving around town, too enraptured with each other to focus on your friends or the rest of the dance’s festivities. You didn’t leave without Heeseung giving Sunghoon a slap to the back and Wonyoung crying at your reconciliation.

The house is quiet, a result of Sunghoon’s parents being abroad for the past few days. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look, by the way?” Sunghoon mentions again when he closes the door behind you. He immediately pulls you in by the waist, showering the skin of your neck in kisses.

You giggle and weave your hands into his hair, a gasp leaving you when he takes your earlobe between his teeth. “Probably for the hundredth time by now.”

“Well you do.” He presses another kiss to the spot below your ear, making you shiver. “And I’m not gonna stop saying it.”

You smirk and move your hands to both sides of his face, forcing you to look at him. “I didn’t expect the night to go like this.”

“I hope that’s a good thing.” His voice is teasing, but his eyes are suddenly lined with anxiety. His body tenses in your embrace, the worry that you’re having second thoughts weighing on his happiness.

You ease his doubts with a deep kiss, holding him close and hoping that assures him you’re not going anywhere. “A great thing.”

The smile you love so much appears once he’s at peace, and peppers your entire face with kisses. You laugh out loud, but he can tell you love the adoration he’s providing you.

You could definitely get used to this new Sunghoon, the night already filled with so much magic.

“I’ll be back.” He grins wide, canines on full display. Another kiss punctuates the sentence. “Don’t go anywhere.” Another.

You laugh out loud and nod your head. He dramatically holds onto your hand until he’s forced to let go. He runs down the hallway and into his bedroom, closing the door behind him and leaving you in the sitting room of his house.

Twenty minutes later, you’re sitting on the loveseat in the sitting room when Sunghoon comes back out.

“My lady, follow me.” He bows and holds out his hand for you to take, and you smile ear to ear when you lace your fingers with his. You’re unsure what’s waiting for you on the other side of his bedroom door, but you know it must be another surprise your boyfriend has gone above and beyond to amaze you with.

Surely enough, it makes you gasp out loud and press your free hand to your chest.

Sunghoon’s bedroom is showered in a radiant glow from dozens of candles, all different sizes but the same light creating a sweet, calming ambience. Fairy lights hang on the walls, aiding in the atmosphere he’s created. Music plays at a low sound from the speakers near the television, Sunghoon’s phone hooked up to the system. To top it all off, there’s another bouquet of white roses sitting on his side table, some petals lining the edges of the floor around his bed.

When you thought about this night in your dreams, it always ended here, being so in love. He’s made those dreams come true, right down to the letter, and you could not be more in love with him than in this moment.

Sunghoon comes closer. He presses his chest to your back, encasing your body with his arms and kissing your neck once again. You try to stifle the sob that comes out, but he hears it and retracts. “Shit, do you not like it? I can blow the candles out and–”

You turn in his embrace, shaking your head furiously. “No, I love it.” You wipe your tears, laughing at the reaction he’s pulled out of you. “I’m just–it doesn’t feel like it’s real.”

“It is.” He takes the side of your face in his hand, rubbing his thumb across your cheek. “And I’ll remind you every day if you need me to.”

“I love you so much,” you respond, kissing the inside of his palm. You pull him closer, reconnecting your lips with his. You feel whole in a way you haven’t in weeks, knowing now for certain this happiness coupled with Sunghoon’s love is the perfect combination to sustain you.

“I love you too,” he says in between kisses, his mouth turning sloppy. You feel his growing hardness against you. It had been months since the last time you were intimate. You think as Sunghoon pulls you in closer than before, groaning into your mouth, that tonight’s the perfect time to reconnect in more ways than just emotionally.

“I missed you so much,” you moan, tugging his jacket from his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. You run your arms across his chest, still covered by the cotton button up he’s wearing, but you quickly make do with the buttons on his shirt to feel the skin underneath. 

He shivers under your touch, but he manages to find the zipper of your dress and lower it down until the dress easily slips from your body. You step out of it, careful not to tread over the fabric. Your focus remains on  undressing Sunghoon until he’s as naked as you are, wearing only your underwear and shoes. He’s shirtless thanks to you undoing his buttons, but you want all of him exposed.

You try to pull down the zipper of his pants, but he stops you, his eyes lust-filled but patient. “This night is about you, baby. Not me.”

“Please, let me touch you.” You whine, holding onto the belt-loops on his pants.

“Not yet.” He moves you both back until you’re at the edge of the bed. He motions for you to sit down. Once you do, he gets onto his knees in front of you, the man you love on a mission. “Let me make you feel good first.”

He takes the heels off of your feet and sets them down beside your dress. When he does, he begins his slow torture of kissing up your ankles to the insides of your thighs. You lay your body back on his bed, whimpering and body on the verge of shaking when he finally pulls the underwear from your legs.

“Fuck, Hoon,” you say out loud when he presses a kiss to your clit, taking the nub between his lips and sucking tenderly while rubbing his hands on the curves of your hips. He takes one hand to reach out and grab one of your breasts, expertly taking your nipple between his thumb and index finger as his tongue licks along the insides of your center. “Please don’t stop,” you whisper.

“Wasn’t planning on it, my love.” His tongue moves at a faster pace, matching the writhing of your hips crashing into his face to gain every ounce of pleasure he’s giving you.

Before, you wouldn’t have imagined being back in this bedroom with him, and now there’s no other place you wanted to exist.

“Hoon, please. I want you,” you say, one hand clutching his comforter and the other entangled in his hair.

“You have me, always.” His tongue slips inside of your pussy, the feeling of the muscle against your walls causing you to cry out in pleasure.

“I’m not moving until you come, baby. I know you’re close.” The pleasure has been building since the moment he had his mouth wrapped around your neck when you stepped into his house. And now, with his mouth buried inside of you and sweet words accompanying such dirty actions fuels your body’s speedrun to your release.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you curse, your orgasm hitting you like the crash of a wave before you go underwater. But you don’t care to drown if it feels this satisfying.

You laugh breathlessly when the end of your release comes. Sunghoon wipes your essence off of his lips with the back of his hand, smiling bashfully. Every action of his before is incredibly contrary to his shy expression, but you love it.

Ridding himself of his pants, Sunghoon’s cock springs free from the constricting article of clothing. The tip is leaking with precum, but he isn’t in a rush to jump on top of you like the many times before when you both were too frustrated to worry with foreplay.

He kisses you with all he has when he crawls on top of you. His tongue inside of your mouth fills it with the taste of your slick. In a blip, he has a condom in his hand and puts it on with quick skill. There’s no need to prep you, your previous orgasm leaving you wet and waiting for him to line up with your entrance and slip inside.

He does it expertly. Both of you tremble from the feeling you long forgot felt so otherworldly, his cock making a home within your walls and your body adjusting to the delicious stretch.

The song in the background fills your ears with the sounds of a slow-strumming guitar, reflecting the thrust of Sunghoon’s hips. Your hips meet his when he’s filled you to the hilt, causing you to sigh. “Fuck, just like that.”

“You’re so beautiful,” Sunghoon whispers between thrusts, moaning sweet nothings into your mouth. “I love you so much.”

“I love you,” you whisper in kind, gasping. The tip of his cock kisses your cervix with each press of his hips, exiting slowly and pushing back inside until there’s no space left to accommodate him.

How could you be so filled, figuratively and literally, by the love he had to offer you? For anyone else who’s never known the feelings stirring inside of you, a mixture of sinful pleasure and pure happiness, you feel sorry for them. If everyone in the world did, they might have been labeled as two extra wonders of the world.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come again,” you say, clutching onto his hips. You bite down on the skin of his shoulder, releasing your moans into his skin as his pace speeds up.

“Yes, baby, give it to me,” he groans, gulping hard and body frantic to take you both to the your climaxes. You feel the stars behind your eyes when your second orgasm comes, a long cry leaving your lips. Sunghoon matches it with a broken moan, the sound coming out in fragments as he spills inside of the condom.

Sunghoon lathers your face in deep, heartfelt kisses before pulling out. He walks to the bathroom quickly, throwing away the condom in the trash and grabbing a cloth to clean you up. He runs the fabric between your legs, careful not to press down too hard and overstimulate you.

You both crawl under the covers after he throws the rag in his hamper, your body immediately snuggling into his. The crown of your head receives another blitz of kisses, your smile hurting your cheeks from how wide it goes.

“I love you,” Sunghoon says, the words coming without a second thought.

And with no regrets on your mind or in your heart, resolute in your decision to forgive him, you say, “I love you, too, Hoon. Always.”

People could always change if they had the determination and inspiration to do so, and you know that for sure now. In  the arms of the one you love, that fact could not be more true.

@mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @dreamiestay

[into-f0lkl0re]

Paige bueckers head cannons

I’m in the writing mood idk why

not spell checked (srry)

warnings: slightly nsfw at the end

enjoy!!

———————————————————————

sfw

* definitely liked you first. i feel like caroline probably introduced you guys and she was immediately internally freaking out because you were so nice and chill and polar opposite of her

* would literally do anything to impress you like would jump really high and than turn around to make sure you saw

* for example say yall are in target to get some tru fru (cuz yk she loves her tru fru. her and kk have a serious problem god damn) and you are just pushing the cart not paying attention and she is just like “babe look babe look” “ watch this” “ are you watching??” and you finally are like yes paige and she just does a run a jump to touch something really high and then just skips back to you like “did you see that? you saw that right? I jumped so high!!!!”

* whenever she is on live with kk will just constantly talk about you to the point where everyone else is so fucking annoyed

* like kk is trying to give a crumbl review in her room (that one live) and is like “this one’s mint, i don’t like mint so im not gonna try it but ice wants some” and paige is just like “did you guys know that y/n loves mint. her favorite ice cream is mint chip and like the other day we wer-“ and you just see kk roll her eyes and groan really loudly “paige let me rate this damn cookie” and paige is just like 😧 cuz she just loves talking about you sm cuz your her baby

* during games every time she makes a basket will search for you in the audience and then smile really big

* speaking of games best believe she wants you at every single game and when you can’t go to one she is like ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️

* and gives you the silent treatment ( not like literally) but she is just so pouty

* like “ babe wdym you have to study for midterms? I have a game tonight. you have to be there” if this is after she recovers from her acl injury she will be like “it’s bad luck if you don’t come. i’m gonna get hurt again” and then you end up going just to cheer her up.

* loves to play video games with you

* if you don’t like playing video games than she just wants to be in the same room as you

* very clingy and touchy especially when drunk

* gets very very pouty when y’all are cuddling and you have to get up to do something

* will follow you around like a lost puppy until you can’t sit down with her again

* if you are studying or working and can’t exactly talk to her or entertain her she will just sit next to you and watch what you are doing or play with your hair

* if you are doing something on the computer she will start braiding your hair while looking over your shoulder

* her love languages are physical touch and quality time together

nsfw

* dom like 95% of the time but loves when you take control

* like after a really hard practice or game or just a shit day in general she really just wants you to take care of her

* you guys do not have a stone top/pillow princess dynamic (sorry not sorry) ( like yk how a lot of times the mascs will get treated like men in the relationship. that is not your guys relationship) you both give

* she loves to please you but also loves being pleased

* strap ( that’s it)

* she likes using the strap on you but she loves to be eaten out or honestly sometimes a really heated make out session and she just gets off from grinding on you

* she leaves a bunch of hickies all over you (i mean every where)

* wishes you could leave hickies all over her but you can’t that often because of her basket ball uniform

* but best believe off season she is covered in them

* safe word!!! she doesn’t really do overstimulation to much because safe word is not the goal. a safe word is like an emergency stop button

* but y’all can give for a bit

* if you two ever got to a place where you had to use the safe word she would feel so bad

* like y’all wouldn’t have sex for the next couple days because she is so scared of hurting you

* it gets to the point where you have to be like “ i promise you will not hurt me what happened was a miscommunication you didn’t do anything wrong”

* y’all have a really long talk on consent and shit like that because your safety is her no.1 priority

* same goes the other way around

* just loves you smm and loves showing it in anyway she can

I hope y’all like this!! I want to write for other wbb/wnba people as well so please send in requests 🙏 of what y’all would want

i will def do more headcannons for other people as well just ask! I honestly have been having sm writing and i have a bunch of ideas in my notes app! ik the smut wasn’t very smutty (im srry) i don’t have a lot of experience writing smut but i am not against writing it so i will write more if wanted!

Big forehead kisses💕💕

-Faye

[sluttycinderella]

Razorgate: an empirical, peer reviewed study*

*there is nothing genuinely scientific about this, it is merely a result of mental illness and unemployment.

So we all saw this right?

But after this bomb was dropped I began to get curious about the other slittenings. Did they use the same razor for all of them and no one had noticed? Do they actually own more than one razor? And if they don't, if this is truly the only phrazor, then I don't think I have to tell you that raises a lot of questions.

Firstly, I went back to where this all began, Phil's Birthday stream, to identify the razor that carved the very first slit and forever cemented itself as a part of herstory:

Now that is very clearly the Manscaped logo, no question about it. Here’s a high quality photo of the logo for comparison:

(You can also clearly see in the Twitter post that it says "Manscaped" across it but I like to double check my work and I also wanted to prove that they were both Manscaped)

And it's a good thing I did double check because OP made a CRITICAL ERROR in their post! They claim that the razor in question is the Lawn Mower 4.0 when in fact it's the Lawn Mower 5.0 Ultra! Unlike the PUNY, PATHETIC, UNMANLY 4.0, the Lawn Mower 5.0 Ultra comes with an interchangeable foil blade, a USB port, and a more advanced spotlight!

How could OP be so careless? Dan and Phil would never own an outdated razor! They require only the finest in ball shaving technology!

Also fun fact: The first appearance of the Lawn Mower 5.0 Ultra on the Manscaped YouTube channel falls right in between the dapg return announcement and their first video back so make of that what you will...I for one shall be sculpting my own hill out of the very earth itself, "Manscaped Sponsorship Hill", I encourage you all to join me.

So after spending far too long researching the intricacies of razors that shave an organ I don't even have, I now needed to check if it was the same razor being used in every slittening:

Here they are side by side for comparison, left is Phil’s birthday, middle is the We're All Doomed post-premiere, right is Dan’s birthday. Now it appears the WAD one is missing the logo but I'm going to go ahead and chalk that up to the poor quality of the clip I found (if anyone has a better version PLEASE hit me up so I can confirm my hypothesis). And considering the photo taken in the aftermath seems to show Phil holding the 5.0 Ultra:

I'm gonna go out on a limb and say it's the same thing.

“But,” I hear you shouting, “so what if Dan and Phil used the same razor for all the streams? They already said they only owned one razor so who cares?” Well this isn’t so much about proving that they’re the same razor as it is establishing a baseline. It’s hard to trust basically anything Dan and Phil say lately, what with piggate and the “pillow” bar and the fake view from the Phouse, knowing that they aren’t lying about only having one razor (to the best of our knowledge) is crucial in figuring out what exactly is going on. Remember, we’re doing science here.

And with that in mind: In my professional opinion, I can say that for all three slittenings, the Manscaped Lawn Mower 5.0 Ultra was the weapon of choice.

Sidenote: I went down a bit of a rabbit hole of Manscaped reviews during all of this and apparently Manscaped razors are kind of just a scam. This razor is $109 and they try to trick their customers into subscribing to their "Peak Hygiene Plan" which you don't actually need by offering a deceptive discount and hiding the terms where people aren't likely to see them. So yeah, fuck Manscaped and I for one think we should cancel Dan and Phil for not ethically consuming under capitalism.

But that's beside the point, we know that they indeed only have one razor and that that razor...is for balls. What does that tell us?

Conclusions

There are a multitude of conclusions one could jump to in the light of such a revelation, I shall display them in a convenient numbered list for your viewing pleasure:

One of them prefers to use straight (lol) razors to shave their...you know...I don't actually know if this is a thing people do or if it's even possible, people with balls please sound off in the comments, thank you

Only one of them actually shaves in which case I support them as an infamous pussy hair enthusiast (iykyk)

They share a razor (Please, God, no, that's actually disgusting)

Either way, this thing was on someone's balls and then it touched both their faces so I really hope they cleaned it properly!

Alright, so that whole exploration may have been a bit useless, it indeed only confirmed what we had already been told, but I spent literal hours comparing photos of ball hair trimmers and I'm not one to admit defeat. Consider yourselves peer reviewed, Dan and Phil, and maybe check out Beardscape instead! Apparently they have better, more comprehensive razors for the same price.

If anyone even more demon than me has any corroborating evidence (maybe of them using straight razors at any point or anything else razor related that they've said in the past) please let me know so I can take it into consideration! Thank you all for your time.

[asliceofzosan]

in which Sanji is in Shells Town when Zoro eats the rice ball off the floor

It isn't often that Zeff's plans to get rid of him involve actually making Sanji leave the Baratie on a supply run (mostly because they never work. Sanji always comes back with more produce than the budget allows for which pisses the old geezer even more). But today, he was persistent that he go all the way to Shells Town. Fucking Shells Town. It isn't exactly the first place Sanji would think of when wanting quality ingredients.

However, if there's anything Sanji is, it's that he's stubborn. He'll comb through every market stall if he has to. He's coming back to the Baratie with three kilos of overpriced bluefin tuna if only to raise Zeff's blood sugar out of spite. Zeff raised a brat. So he's going to act like one.

Disembarking off of his boat, he makes a beeline first for a reputable restaurant in town. Cooks know what cooks want. He'd rather shave off time by asking a fellow chef where are the best places to get supplies. A few lovely ladies point him in the direction of a well-loved little restaurant at the edge of town and he each gives them a kiss on the back of their hand as a thank you.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintances, my angels." He says with a wink. Both girls only give him blank stares and walk away from him. He still sighs dreamily as they soon fade from view. It's a lot better than getting hit in the head.

He walks ahead to the restaurant, finding it a little crowded with a couple marines. No matter. Sanji isn't exactly known by face around the East Blue. He begrudgingly understands now why Zeff doesn't want to go here and instead forced Sanji onto his sailboat by himself.

With an irritated flick of his hair, he strides into the restaurant, sitting at a table near the window so he could light a quick cigarette before asking for the chef.

"We already have our order—"

"No. More food is better! Gotta feed the brain!"

Sanji's ears pick up the conversation in the table next to him as naturally as he does breathing. With the amount of times Zeff makes him wait tables instead of actually cooking in the kitchen, he's become skilled in the art of being a gossip. Tie him up in the middle of a marine base for admitting that, he doesn't care. There's only so much one can do to keep themselves entertained.

"We have to figure out a way to get inside the base."

"Luffy, I don't think that's a good idea–"

"It's not a good idea because I don't have a plan yet!"

"Well, what's your plan?"

"..."

"Luffy..."

"I'm getting there!"

Sanji chuckles. Whoever this Luffy kid is, he sure sounds interesting.

But before he could get another slice of their conversation, a commotion at the bar piques his interest even more. He uncrosses his legs, sitting up a little straighter, and watches as a blond man in a suit scolds a girl for running into him, calling her stupid and mocking her.

Sanji quirks an eyebrow at him. No matter what, no man should speak to a little girl that way.

"You dropped my food."

This time, a man with green hair catches his attention and with a quick glance, Sanji sees that there is smushed up rice balls on the floor by the blond's feet. Sanji sees red immediately. He's just about to go over there and give the guy a piece of his mind when the green haired man kneels down, grabs a glob of dirty riceball, and puts it into his mouth.

Sanji tunnel visions on the way his lips move, slowly chewing, savoring the otherwise spoiled riceball in his mouth like it's the most delectable piece of food he's ever eaten. The whole restaurant watches with bated breath, but none held tightly in his chest as much as Sanji's is. The man scrapes every grain of rice off of the floor, licking the remaining traces off his fingers.

He doesn't know it yet, but Sanji's heart has spilled out of his chest, and is now in the hands of a dirty green haired swordsman. With each bite he takes of the sullied riceball, the more Sanji's soul is sucked out of his body and placed into a state of near heavenly revelation.

Then the swordsman picks up the plate and offers the other riceball to the irritated blond man across from him.

"Now you eat one and apologize to the girl."

Sanji doesn't know what happens to his heart because the aching in his chest feels like he's out of breath. Maybe he's dying. It feels a lot like it because suddenly Sanji genuinely has forgotten how to breathe in this moment.

It gets even worse when the fight breaks out. The man barely even breaks a sweat. In any other circumstance where there is a fight, Sanji would go right in and make sure none of the dishes fall to the floor. But it seems that even then, Sanji's interference isn't needed.

Because the man's hits are calculated, careful despite the rough and tumble of the fight. He barely even gets his swords out. And he, Sanji notices with a bright smile, makes sure none of the tables get hit. He contains it all in the small space in front of the bar.

The final nail in the coffin is when he takes a giant swig out of his mug, shakes it a bit to see if there's any more drink inside, and casually chucks it at an oncoming marine and knocks him out cold.

Now Sanji is used to falling in love easily with beautiful women. All they have to do is smile at him and he'll be on his knees for them. He has experience in that department.

But what is Sanji supposed to do when a brutish man with a kind heart glances at him briefly before taking the other riceball in his hand and shoving it in his mouth?

Sanji thinks that this is how he falls in love with a man.

His plate is wiped clean before he hands it back to the little girl, who looks up at the man with stars in her eyes.

Sanji figures that maybe the way he's staring at the man isn't too far off from how she's looking at him.

Sanji comes back to the Baratie with no supplies and an earful from Zeff that doesn't register in his brain.

His mind instead is filled with just the memory of the green haired man, his lips pursing ever so slightly around the riceball in his mouth, and the smallest smile he gives the little girl as he thanks her for the food.

Sanji wonders if he'll ever see him again.

He learns how to make different kinds of rice balls in the meantime.

---

A/N: did somebody say sanji would fall in love with zoro if he saw him eat food off the floor? say no more !!

EDIT: part two, debt and doing dishes is up!

[jflemings]

— birthday wishes

pairing: jessie fleming x reader

synopsis: you make sure jessie has a good day for her first birthday in portland

warnings: a lil suggestive & not edited

a/n: a lil smth smth for the birthday girl (i don’t rlly like this ending but fuck it we ball)

contrary to popular belief, jessie actually really liked celebrating her birthday. she liked that her mum always baked her a cake when she was growing up, she liked that you made the effort to always give her flowers and she liked it when her and her sister designated a time to facetime. the thing that she liked most of all though, was being able to have all her favourite people in one place,

this year was different though. jessie’s mood had seemed to get deplete the closer her birthday got. she had been adjusting to the move well enough but she didn’t exactly have the time to get really settled before she was off win team canada for the gold cup, the semi final loss leaving her more restless then when she left.

still, you made the effort to at least attempt to make this birthday feel somewhat normal. you bought her a bouquet of pink tulips and baby’s breath from a florist you spotted one afternoon on your way home from work, a lego flower bouquet set that the two of you wanted to build together and a proper, high quality photo album so that all of her favourite photos she’s taken can be in one place.

you sneak back into your shared bedroom with her flowers in one hand and coffee in the other, placing them down on a flipped cardboard box that your girlfriend had been using as a makeshift bedside table, before pouncing on her. you practically jump onto her back and lay yourself down flat on top of her, placing your head on her shoulder as she awoke.

jessie, in all her sleepy-faced-bedheaded glory, flashes you a smile as you trace patterns on her back through her sleep shirt.

“good morning birthday girl” you whisper quietly to her “how does twenty six feel?”

“not any different than twenty five” she rasps out whilst beginning to roll over onto her back. you slide off her effortlessly before she pulls you into her, one arm wrapping around your shoulders whilst the other hoists you onto her chest. she wraps both arms around you protectively and tightly, leaning her head on your own as she lets out a content sigh.

you reach over her as best you can and grab the bouquet “your birthday flowers madam”

jessie gives you one of her famous soft smiles “thank you, they’re beautiful” she praises gratefully, sniffing them before taking them from you and placing them on the ground, grabbing your torso so she can guide you up the front of her body, kissing you sweetly and slowly.

you pull away from her and lift your arms so that they’re on either side of her head “only the best for my girl” you say before taking advantage of the position your arms are in and pulling yourself up so you’re straddling jessie’s hips.

“as much as i would love to lay around with you all morning, you” you emphasise by poking a finger into the canadian’s chest “have training and then lunch with the girls, and i have work that needs to be done.”

jessie rolls her eyes and trails her hands up your sides “just five more minutes” she exhales “i don’t feel like getting up yet”

you swing your leg over jessie and roll onto your side of the mattress, sitting and then standing in one swift motion. you then walk to the end of the bed frame-less mattress and grip the bottom of the duvet that jessie is comfortably under “if i let you lay here for five more minutes then i’m going to feel the need to lay down with you, which will then turn into morning sex, which means that when janine comes to get you in about an hour not only will she be interrupting us but she’ll also be late because you won’t be ready” you explain pointedly, finally ripping the blanket off your girlfriend.

jessie shivers slightly at the sudden loss of warmth before sitting herself up on her elbows and forearms “i’ll be quick, promise” she smirks amused, raising her eyebrows in an almost challenging way.

you’re almost half convinced, her position on the bed paired with the confident smirk she doesn’t wear often slowly drawing you in. you tilt your head in faux thought, slowly leaning down and propping your knee up near her feet, planting your hands flat on either side of her legs. you hover for a moment and open your mouth to say something before a blaring alarm sounds off through the room.

jessie rolls her eyes and picks her phone up, quickly turning the alarm off and tossing it to the side. by the time she’s done that you’re up and halfway out the door.

“y/n” she draws out frustratedly “five minutes!”

“your coffee is going cold jess”

——

jess huffs as janine pulls up to the curb in front of the home she shares with you. lunch had gone longer than expected and although she appreciated the fact that the team celebrated her birthday with her, she had begun to miss her ex teammates even more.

“you tired jeffery?” janine muses “wouldn’t wanna be, y/n’s probably gonna keep you up all hours of the night”

“ooookay!” jessie hastily says as she reaches for the door handle “thanks for organising lunch, i had a really good time”

janine nods and smiles before reaching behind her seat and handing jessie a cobalt blue gift bag “this is from me and sinc” she says just as jessie opens her mouth to protest “and don’t say that we didn’t have to because we know! we just wanted to give you a little something”

jessie takes the bag off her teammate carefully, opening the door at the same time and awkwardly sliding out. she gathers her training bag, phone and gift bag before shooting janine a wide, genuine smile and shutting the car door. as the midfielder walks to her front door she notices the warm light peaking through the windows.

it’s not dark outside but the sun has started to set, so she finds it odd that you’ve already turned on the lamp in the front room. she thinks nothing of it as she opens the door and steps in sideways before kicking it shut, slightly cringing at the loud slam. when you don’t scold her for slamming the front door, like you had always done, she becomes puzzled.

magenta light that she hadn’t seen from outside bounces off the walls and the smell of sandalwood slowly invaded her senses as she begins to creep into the main living area. you’re still no where to be found and she’s about to call out for you when she stops herself, her jaw going slack and eyes going wide.

next to the window on the furthest wall hangs her canada and chelsea jerseys that she received for reaching one hundred games, underneath multiple framed photos and trinkets sit on top of the buffet, a birthday banner and balloon numbers two and six find themselves near by. the magenta light is coming from a lamp that you had at your place back in london and next to it sits jessie’s burning sandalwood candle, other bits of decor like potted plants, a ceramic mug with miscellaneous pens and pencils, unread books and small collectables have all found homes in her home. her home that wasn’t like this when she reluctantly got up this morning.

she hears the bathroom door open and watches you round the corner, a towel messily drying your hair as you hum to yourself. you haven’t seen her so she places her things down next to the kitchen table, slightly startling you.

you just about jump out of your skin when you hear the unknown noise, dropping the towel and placing a hand over your racing heart “jessie fleming! you scared the absolute shit out of me” you exclaim half out of breath “you could’ve announced yourself when you walked in”

you pull a ladybug patterned gift bag out from under the dining table as you walk past and place it in front of her, nodding in the direction of the bag “open it” you say giddily, practically bouncing on your toes as you watch her reach into the bag.

she pulls out a plain white faux leather photo album that’s bound by brown leather strings and the lego flower bouquet set that the two of you had said you’d wanted to build together once you got settled. she opens the photo album to reveal a photo that was taken of her, niamh and zećira on her birthday last year.

the three of them were dressed nicely and standing in your old kitchen before everyone went out for dinner. you had taken the picture on a cheap disposable you’d had for ages so the film was a bit discoloured and jess and niamh were both laughing at zećira’s expense after she’d almost tripped over her own two feet, but it was one of you favourite photos of the three of them.

jessie looks to you with tears in her eyes, and she watches your mouth quickly turns into a frown. you reach for her without a second thought, already thinking the worst “are you okay? did something happen?” you ask concerned, pulling her into you and wrapping your arms securely around her body.

“no i’m good” she mumbled weakly, sniffling slightly “you did all this today?”

you nod “did the bathroom as well, thought it might de stress you a little bit” you explain softly “why are you crying jess?”

jessie shakes her head and detaches herself from you “i’m just so tired” the canadian mumbles “and i just love you so much.”

you run your hands up and down her biceps “too tired for cake?” you ask cheekily before moving to the fridge. jessie watches you pull out a white frosted cake with small red hearts littering the surface, placing it down and allowing her to see 26th piped on with black icing. you reach into a drawer and pull out a brand new pack of colourful birthday candles, quickly sticking the red one in and lighting it.

“make a wish birthday girl” you say whilst pushing the cake almost directly under jessie’s nose.

she quirks a brow “what? no birthday song?”

you shrug “i figured janine would’ve had the whole team singing it at lunch, thought you’d be content with hearing it once”

the footballer nods in agreement and closes her eyes, blowing the candle out in one go and waving her hand to disperse the smoke. you tilt your head curiously, leaning your forearms on the dark wood of the dining table “you didn’t even make a wish!” you exclaim.

jessie rolls her eyes and sits down, patting her lap so that you can sit on her “i did make a wish, thank you very much.” she defends as you oblige happily and throw your arms around her neck. once situated you swipe your pointer finger through the frosting and holding it up to her mouth. she licks the icing off your finger and snakes her hand up your back to hold your neck, pulling you down to her level so she can kiss you.

the kiss is sweet but hard as she holds you delicately whilst swiping her tongue on your bottom lip. you smile and open your mouth, adjusting yourself on her lap so that your body is facing more towards her.

it feels like the two of you sit there making out for almost an eternity before jess pulls away to come up for air, her lips pink and slightly swollen “wanna know what i wished for?”

your lips ghost over hers “if you tell me then it won’t come true”

the hand that was holding your neck slides down to cradle the small of your back whilst jessie’s other hand runs over your thighs aimlessly. she shrugs and the same smug smirk that she wore this morning returns to her face “i’ll just show you then”

in the blink of an eye she’s hoisting you up and standing quickly before racing off in the direction of your bedroom. you giggle loudly at jessie’s sudden burst of energy and quickly become grateful that the two of you don’t have a bed frame when she pins you to the mattress.

[thislovintime]

Peter Tork with Bob Rafelson, May 1968. Photos by Henry Diltz.

From Peter's Q&A at the 2006 United Fan Convention. “When I recorded ‘Can You Dig It,’ the guitar solo originally ran about three or four minutes all by itself. We cut that back to a minute and a half. Bob Rafelson took a pair of scissors and snipped off the end of it. He didn’t ask me to shorten it, which I would have been glad to do. He just chopped it off. Son of a bitch! I have a lot of gripes about that, but that’s neither here nor there.” - Peter Tork, Blitz!, May/June 1980 “[M]y personal belief is that Bob [Rafelson] is an evil-minded man. He likes to bring people down. Bob was often unsupportive as a human being and distinctly negative — and I was on the short end of that. There’s one example [in the film] — where Ray Nitschke, the football player, keeps hitting me. He was a Hall of Famer for the Green Bay Packers. He’s doing his best to hit me but not to give it all he’s got because if he does, I’m a squashed bug. So this guy’s one of the toughest men in football, he’s coming at me and I’m scared [but] figure it’s good to be scared because that’s what an actor should do. But Bob goes: ‘Ha, ha! Look at Peter! He’s scared! Ha, ha!’ I was just about the kick him in the balls. It was like, For fuck’s sake, Rafelson! You’re making fun of me ‘cos I’m scared? How do you think that’s going to affect the quality of your movie, pal? I was so angry! That’s the style in which he damaged what could have been a fulfilling quality experience.” - Peter Tork, MOJO, June 2002 “I didn’t have much to do with Kirshner and that which I did have to do with him was strained, difficult and incomprehensible. Schneider I love; he’s a hero of mine. Rafelson, the less said about, the better.” - Peter Tork, Goldmine, May 1982 “There was one guy, Steve [Stills], whom I liked enormously. Unfortunately he wasn’t quite right, but he had musical intelligence and I went so far as to ring him up and ask him along again. When he realized he wasn’t going to make it he suggested I get in touch with someone he knew, a certain Peter Thorkelson. I might have said ‘Yeah’ and forgotten about it — particularly as this Peter Thorkelson hadn’t even answered the ad and we had a lot of guys who had. Yet I remember I went to great lengths to contact him. I found him working as a dishwasher — not even as a musician, so you can imagine it took a while tracing him. But when I heard him, I knew at once he was right. I was knocked out.” - Bob Rafelson, NME, August 12, 1967 “The movie portrays them with not so much sweetness and brightness [as the TV show]. It’s a much heavier and far-out thinking group. I wouldn’t call it uncharitable. I thought it was expanding my sense of who they were. There’s a boxing scene in which Micky says, ‘Take this, you dummy.’ Suddenly the music changes and Peter appears in the corner, Christ-like, and says, ‘Micky, I’m the dummy. I’m always the dummy.’ The point was that he was always asked to be the dummy, so here he’s acknowledging it. But he’s also the one who’s given the longest speech in the movie about spiritual evolution, which he’s learned from the guru in the steam room. I was trying to give him a chance to be himself, but in a symbolic way. He is that way today, by the way. In other words, The Monkees became what they really were.” - Bob Rafelson, MOJO, June 2002 “Working for Bob was tough.” - Peter Tork, Shindig Magazine, 2010 “‘Most people are dazzled by the psychedelia, and that’s fine, but for me finally the point of the movie is the Monkees never get out,’ Tork says sadly. ‘Which is to say Bob Rafelson’s view of life is you never get out of the black box you’re in. There’s no escape.’ So how would a Peter Tork cut of Head end? ‘There might have been a scene where we get out,’ he says wistfully. ‘We jump in the water and get away.’“ - The Guardian, April 28, 2011

[miracleonice87]

the camp letter

a/n: the requested note (which turned into more of a letter — I’m a writer, what did you expect?) written by Mrs. Kelce, from “new heights, new news, new baby.” enjoy!

___

“NHL tournament kicks off in my room in ten, big fella!” Isiah Pacheco called through the door after a few raps of his knuckle.

Travis smiled to himself, pushing his now-empty unpacked duffle into the dorm closet and clucking his tongue.

“You know I ain’t missin’ that, son!” Travis assured. “Be right there.”

As Isiah’s footsteps retreated down the hall, Travis grabbed the last piece of luggage on his bed, his toiletry kit, and walked it into the bathroom to hang up. Upon opening the flap, a piece of white notebook paper fell to the counter, folded so only the top of the page was visible.

Open when you get to camp! it read in your unmistakable penmanship. With an enamored grin, Travis quickly lifted and unfolded the page.

87,

the salutation read.

At that simple greeting, his throat tightened with emotion.

Oh boy… he was in for it.

He wandered to take a seat on the bed as he continued.

With another Super Bowl celebration summer coming to a close, another season is now on the horizon and it just might be the most special one yet.

I remember the first time you invited me to Chiefs camp when we had just started dating, watching all your teammates’ kids run to them after practice, watching them chase after footballs, watching their dads throw them up in the air and tote them around so proudly, and I remember thinking, “I hope that’s gonna be Travis someday with our own kids.” Sure, that happened just a little sooner than we planned, but with each day that passes, I only grow more excited to share this with you, and to make those football-centric memories with our little one, and hopefully more little ones to come.

I can’t wait to hold our baby in the stands and explain to them what you do for a living, Trav. I can’t wait to see how excited they get waiting for you on the sideline for a pregame kiss, then watching you ball out. I can’t wait to watch them meet you in the tunnel or the suite after a game, win or lose, and love on you like I do. I can’t wait to see them run around Arrowhead with Sterling and Bronze, and, as much as possible, take them to games with Wy, Ell, and Benny, watching them spend time together and clap for their daddies.

When I close my eyes, I can so vividly see another Super Bowl win, finding you in the midst of another red and gold confetti snowglobe, but this time, with our kid in my arms. I can envision you on the podium with Coach Reid and Patrick, a Lombardi in one arm and a baby in the other. And as much as I already miss you, despite you still being just a couple of rooms away as I write this, we both know that camp is the first step toward making that happen.

We are so lucky to get to do this at all, Trav, but I feel impossibly lucky to get to do this with you. Thank you for being the man that you are – I can’t tell you how much I admire your drive, your passion, your work ethic. You are the best teammate, captain, leader, friend, husband, brother, son, and daddy-to-be that I’ve ever known, and I know you’ll instill your best qualities in our little one.

I love you so fucking bad, Travis Michael. Have fun, be safe… go be great. See you soon.

XO

Silent tears were dripping down Travis’s cheeks and nose as he finished the letter, a fond smile permanent on his lips. God, he was the lucky one, to get to be able to play this silly game he loved so much with your full support backing him. And the thought of you and your baby cheering him on, together, in just a few more months… man, that made him actually giddy, despite the tears he was still trying to get under control.

A moment later, the only person who would ever push open the door to his room unannounced did just that — his quarterback and best friend entered with a casual “you comin’ to play Chel, you hockey freak?” before his eyes actually landed on Travis. Patrick was fearful for just a moment, seeing his friend so emotional, then the tight end met his gaze and held up the piece of notebook paper covered in your neat writing.

Travis cleared his throat and announced, “Letter from home. Got me.”

Patrick smiled, taking a few steps toward him to squeeze his shoulder.

“I gotchu,” he said understandingly. “All good, though?”

Travis nodded emphatically, beaming even as he wiped his watery eyes with the flesh of his thumb.

“So good,” he assured the fellow dad.

Patrick nodded, too, and pawed Travis’s arm affectionately.

“Glad to hear it. Take all the time you need, man,” he directed. “I’ll go take the first round with the hooligans.”

Travis giggled and reached to dap up Patrick, the quarterback giving him a warm hug.

“Thanks, brother,” he said softly.

As Patrick left the room, Travis gave the letter one last brief read, then pulled out his phone, screen lighting up to display his lock background — you from the back in an 87 jacket after this most recent Super Bowl, being hoisted in his arms the very moment you found each other on the field. Smirking proudly at the memory, he unlocked the phone and opened his text thread with you.

Just read your letter, you sneaky lil thing, he tapped. My god, you know how to make a 6’5” NFLer weep like a baby! Thank you for writing it, sweetness. I love you so much. Less than four days now until I hug you and baby Kelce again 😍🤰🏻 Tell Mama I said hi and I love her! Call you later 😘

With that, he hit send, took a deep breath, tucked the letter into an empty drawer for safekeeping, and headed toward Isiah’s room — which was already echoing with his teammates’ raucous cheers and jeers — all while wondering what the hell he ever did to deserve a life so damn sweet.

[grenade-maid]

there's a lot of reasons more people aren't into yuri that are troubling to consider, but equally, I genuinely think it cannot be understated how much of it comes down to most yuri being boring as hell. Like truly. I've been reading the front page of Dynasty Scans like it was the newspaper for 15 years I am not exaggerating I can show you the download file data 15 years.

You know what the complaint about yuri by yuri readers was back in 2009?

"wow that really was just 5 volumes of them blushing at each other and then they don't even kiss"

You know what the complaint about yuri by yuri readers is today in 2023?

"wow that really was just 5 volumes of them blushing at each other and then they don't even kiss"

Don't get me wrong, Yuri has grown a LOT in that time, to the point that most people today wouldn't even understand a Maria-sama reference if it were dropped in front of them (thank God). It's expanded and evolved to encompass more stories about adult women, wider varieties of scenarios, a greater acknowledgement of real life lesbianism, and is more comfortable showing girls kissing with tongue and having sex.

Yuri Manga is maybe the best is it's ever been, and it's also getting the widest readership it's ever had in the English speaking world. The titles we carry at work are always on back order with long queues, and, when I've asked them, most weebs of all gender or sexualities report keeping up with at least a few Yuri series.

At large though? Most of it is still really boring. That's not a bad thing necessarily. I like it because it goes down easy. For the most part any series you pick is gonna be pretty chill. Even shit from Sal Jiang which is PRETTY EDGY for yuri is a pretty breezy read. More serious ones like How Do We Relationship? cover some pretty real subjects about how intimacy is actually quite difficult even when both of you love each other, but it's not like... Exciting. Yuri isn't where you go to pump your fist or get perched on the edge of your seat.

So when the comparison is made to yaoi, well, I mean, have you READ any yaoi? Even in some of the more restrained titles those boys are likely to be sucking and fucking balls and all within the first volume or two. There's gonna be drama, intrigue, shit is gonna get messy, passions are gonna get heated, clothes are gonna be ripped off, people are gonna get sold to One Direction, it's stuff you can sit down with a bowl of popcorn with you know? Stuff you can message your friend and gush Hey Can You BELIEVE? A lot of it is pretty trashy, but that's the appeal. The generic state of yaoi is torrid and exciting and sexy. Ultimately, as a species many of us like to see pretty people fuck. In yaoi you'll get that. In yuri you won't. Nothing wrong with that, but it is gonna be a major contributing factor to their relative popularity.

It's also worth making the comparison to hetero romance manga, which has undergone a renaissance of it's own in recent years. There's now a whole meta around crafting a handful of mean shitty grouchy dysfunctional bully women and flinging them at the protagonist of the day who, unlike in years past, may actually have a face and personality. Most of these are also very trashy and truly scrape the bottom of the bucket in terms of writing.

AND YET?

I would bet money on the fact that you'll have heard of these women and probably even have a good idea what they're like without ever having touched a page of their manga.

I'm sorry but the straights are whipping donuts around the yuri girls in terms of delivering a wide variety of weird compelling fucked up women. How many yuri leading ladies by comparison can you point to as standout recognizable characters even divorced from their story? There's definitely a few, but not many. I'm not talking quality or depth of writing, I'm talking straight up pure recognizability. There are many beautifully written women in yuri, now more than ever. I can't think of many who'd like, get a figure made or have their face splashed on merch, though.

I don't really have a conclusion here. I love Yuri a lot, but at the end of the day this is just kinda the state of things right now.

[stinkfacestories]

The day you found out you had won Jason Kelces Beard Challenge was the best day of your life. The challenge was simple: put together a snap or tiktok video of how to get a beard as good as Jason and the top winner would win a day with Jason. Your video was a long shot: you made a tiktok showing how if you mixed essence of dwarf, with a bit of neanderthal, and just a splash of viking inside Abraham Lincoln's hat and applied it to your face, you'd look as good as Jason. It did t get very many views but Jason loved it. The next thing you knew you were in Philadelphia meeting the man himself at the airport.

The tour of Philadelphia through Jason Kelces eyes was a lot of stops at places he loved to eat. Steak sandwich, sausage, pizza, ice cream. The man just loved to eat. As the day dragged on just as Afternoon turned to evening he took you to Lincoln Field, his home turf. There was no game and the place was locked down, but that was nothing a few signed balls couldn't handle.

He took you to the locker room, the place where he told you he feels most free to be himself. You both sat down on the bench in front of his locker. He took out a case of bud light and cracked one open. The man drank so much bud lite you swore he was sponsored by them.

He told you to be quiet. To just listen to the sound of the room. To drink it in and become one with the soul of real American football.

The only thing you heard was the bench breaking as Kelce leaned forward and let out a fart with a satisfied grunt.

"Oh, sorry," he said, not sounding very sorry.

"Really? " you said. You looked at him, almost appalled that he would do that with you right next to him.

Jason turned and gave you a wink. "Dont tell me you don't find farts funny. Your a guy. All guys love farts." 

You rolled your eyes. "Not really."

"What about this one," he said and let loose a loud bassy fart.

"God stop it, it's so gross," you said as you slid away, but suddenly found yourself pressed against the wall of the locker room. "Seriously dude. What the fuck?"

"C'mon," Jason said as he moved over towards you. “I warned you. Remember when I ate that large sausage with pickled garlic ave said ‘were in trouble later’? What do you think I meant.” and placed a hand on your chest, giving you a bit of a push. "Don't be a prude."

You were caught between a wall, and a wall of beef holding you in place. "Seriously, stop it".

"Can't stop. Won't stop," he said still pressing you in the wall. His eyes were the kind of dull that only cheap low quality beer can make the."You know I bet you never had an older brother. Between me, my dad and Travis we learned to appreciate farts. My dad told me that the best cure is exposure. So to get you up to speed I think I need to gas you more"

He  pressed into you and lifted up his keg and let loose with a fart so powerful it echied through the empty locker room.. You struggled to get away from the horrible stench, but couldn't escape.

"No, don't do this," you said as it overwhelmed you.

He turned around and pressed his huge soft center lineman ass in your face, the soft fabric of his shorts spreading across your face like warm dough. It was too much, and you were powerless to stop it. His asshole flexed and relaxed as it sent out a long drawn out series of wet sounding farts. You gagged as the air around you filled with the horrid odor.

"Fuck that was a good one," he said, not budging an inch. “Three point stance just rips these farts out of me.”

"I think I'm going to puke," you said, trying not to vomit.

"If your gonna puke, aim that way, I like these shorts." he said pointing. "Do you think it's funny yet?"

"No!" You coughed.

"Alright you asked for it" he presses his ass harder, wedging your nose on his cheeks. He let loose with a rapid fire volley of farts that left you breathless and coughing. He backed away, chuckling at you.

"God, fuck, that's rank!" You coughed. You tried to breathe fresh air but the locker room had been total polluted by Kelces ass.

"Come on. You don't have to love them, but you gotta at least admit they are funny and manly now. How can you like football and not think farts are funny." he let you stew and come up with an answer.

"Fuck...no," you say.

He shrugged. "Ok. Your loss," he said and pressed his ass in your face again.

"No! Please. God. No. Fuck!"

"What's it going to take? Do I need to pull my shorts down and give you a bare ass stinkface?" He said, pressing even harder.

"No! No more. Fine. They're fucking funny," you cried.

"What?" He said. "I couldn't hear you"

"They're funny!"

"Now are you just saying that to make me stop?"

"No, I mean it. They are funny and they are manly."

"Well, if it's funny you won't have a problem asking me to do it a few more times so you can properly laugh. Right?"

"Uh...fine. Sure. Just, please, no more, I can't take it."

He turned and farted once. "Laugh. Laugh hard and long and deep." He was getting frustrated that you weren't laughing. "Seriously come on guy. This is just as bad for me as it is for you. It's hard to hold this position and if I keep farting I'm going to have to take a dump soon"

"Oh god no!"

"Laugh dammit!" He yelled.

"No, no, I can't."

"Fine then," he said. He pulled you down and set you face up on the bench. He loomed over you. "Ok big fucking guns time" he pulled down his shorts and hovered his raw hairy bear ass over your face.

"Oh shit, dude please don't!" His as was a beast. This close you could make out the rough skin. His ass had taken a pounding over the years and looked like a hefty bag overfilled with cottage cheese. The hair on his crack was dense and black. 

"Do you think this is funny?"

"Yes, yes, fuck, yes!" You were sobbing, your body convulsing.

“Good. Then you'll find this hilarious.” he sat down. He sat down hard. He rocked back and forth, the wiry hair of his ass crack scouring your face. He dug deep like he has an itch he was trying to scratch.

"Laugh. C'mon. Laugh, laugh like a big boy." He said, simultaneously belching and farting.

"Ahahaha!" You started crying and laughing.

"Oh fuck. What a fucking cry baby. Laughing at farts is supposed to be funny. Not sad."

"I'm sorry," you sobbed.

"Just...fucking stop," he said, standing and pulling up his shorts as he got off you. "Baby can't handle a grown man's ass. Jesus fuck"

He sat down next to you. You were still shaking a little, tears coming from your eyes. "I'm sorry," you said.

"It's fine, it's not the first time I've gassed someone like that," he said. "your not the only one who cried either "

You sniffed, still wiping tears away. "It was just so...overwhelming. The smell, and the sound, and the pressure..."

"It was a lot. It was," he said.

He drained his bud light and crushed the can. "Ok second chance to get it right." He leaves forward and farted, then looked to you to see your reaction.

You laughed. A genuine laugh. "Fuck, dude."

He smiled and farted again. You kept laughing. "It's funny, isn't it?"

"Yeah. It is," you said, laughing some more.

"Now you" he said 

You panicked. You didn't have to fart. You were to nervous.

"What the hell. Do it"

"I don't know if I can," you said.

"Come on. Do it. Do it" he chanted.

"I can't."

"You trying to make me mad? You're a guy. You should always be ready to let rip"

"But I'm not drunk like you are. And I'm not a fucking monster with an ass like yours."

"Fine, then, let's fix that." He reached down and ripped a huge one. He reached for his phone and placed a call "Trav. Yeah we got an emergency. Yeah get that chili defrosted and get some real cheap beer. Ooooh and some gas station food. Yeah he's a wimp. Didn't laugh. No he did. Fuck no she can't come to.  Alright. Love you. No homo" he hung up the phone.

"Your brother's coming over?"

"Yup. And he's gonna be pissed if you don't laugh when he cuts one. He loves farts. And he's got an ass that could kill a guy."

"Wait..."

"We're going to our man cave. It's a cabin in the woods. Just guys. Strict no pants policy. You better hope Trav remembered his boxers. You are gonna learn to love being a man like us and become the third Kelce brother, or you ain't leaving that shack."

"What's it going to be like," you said, afraid, but also excited.

"Oh, you're gonna hate every minute, and you're gonna love every minute."

"Fuck. I'm going to get wrecked, aren't I?"

"Oh definitely. We will probably fuck up your head so much. You're going to end up with a fetish for this."

You laughed.

All you could do was laugh.

[shadowuponstorm]

You're Gonna Get Us in Trouble

Reader is the newest member of the 118 and is a huge rule follower. So what happens when her secret relationship almost comes to light when a certain Diaz can't keep his hands off of her? Oh, did I mention that the reader is Bobby Nash's niece?

I'm not sure if this should be a warning, there are some spicy sentences (regarding f!oral receiving and squeezing of the ass), but they don't qualify this as smut fanfic, in my opinion! If I'm thinking incorrectly, please tell me in the comments or message me.

I woke up to the sound of my phone vibrating on the nightstand. Reaching my hand over, I turn the phone towards me to see the contact name, "Uncle Bobby," taking over the whole screen. I silently curse before answering with a "Morning, Uncle Bobby. Did you need something?"

"Sorry to be waking you up before shift, but I was wondering if you could run by the store to grab some essentials for me," Bobby says as I feel the other body beside me starting to move.

"Yeah, sure. Do you have a list?" I asked as I felt a pair of lips kissing a trail behind my ear and then stopping at the one spot that makes me shiver, "Actually, can you text it to me? I still got sleep on my mind to remember all of it."

Once Bobby told me that was completely fine, I hung up the phone after we exchanged love you. I turned to face Eddie and slapped him on his bare shoulder before scolding him, "He could've heard you!"

"It was worth the risk," Eddie said as he leaned closer to kiss me, "When are we eventually going to tell people?"

"It's bad enough that he keeps overhearing Buck talk about the bruises on my neck. It's going to become worse if he finds out I'm dating one of his 'boys' after he warned me not to," I respond as I sighed before telling Eddie it will be soon.

Eddie and I have been dating for six months, which has been the best months of my life. He has all the qualities that make him amazing, sweet, funny, always knows how to take care of me when the situation calls for it, and he's attentive.

"Amor, keeping us a secret has to be eating away at you. It can't be good for you," Eddie whispered as I remind him how I'm a follower and nobody expects me to start bending the rules just because I'm dating a fellow firefighter, "Well, I've got an idea that will help keep your mind off of it."

"Edmundo, no, we only have 15 minutes before we have to report for a shift," I said as Eddie smirked before pushing up the shirt I was wearing, making my lace panties come into view.

"I only need 8 of those minutes," Eddie whispered while his head disappeared under the covers as his fingers trailed my underwear down my legs before moving them back up to spread my folds.

"Eddie-" I started to laugh before letting out a moan from feeling his tongue enter me and I run my hand through his hair before balling into a fist to pull at it, which in turns, makes him groan out into me.

Let’s just say, it took exactly 7 minutes and 20 seconds for Eddie to make me come from just his mouth. After I “finished”, we got our showers, put on our uniforms, and left my apartment in our separate vehicles before he heads to the station while I head to the store.

“Wow, your mystery man certainly is a leech,” I hear Buck shout as I rush over to him and slammed my hand over his mouth before telling him to shut the fuck up.

“Is this the same guy or a different one?” Howie asks as I explained to him that I’m not that type of girl, “I’m just saying, no judgment here. Buckaroo here knows what it’s like.”

“Hey, come on, that was years ago! I’ve now since quit that,” Buck complains as I laugh and told him that I knew that he has since changed his ways.

I head over to my locker and started putting my stuff in there before I feel someone tap my shoulder and whisper, “Why is Diaz on your shirt?”

“Wait what?” I asked in a panic as I try to look in a mirror before I hear Hen laughing and I groaned before saying “Real funny, Hen.”

Hen is the only one who knows about mine and Eddie’s relationship, since she caught the two of us getting a little too close for comfort at an event for the department. Turns out, she has a bet going with most of the boys that Eddie and I would end up together so she offered to keep the secret if I help her win.

“So, you were a little late this morning, I take Eddie took his sweet time?” Hen teases, making me laugh before explaining that Bobby called asking for me to grab some essential for lunch or dinner, “Wait, did Bobby hear him?”

"Almost, can you imagine how embarrassing it would be if my uncle has heard his niece ‘getting some loving’?” I said as Hen snickers and starts to laugh before I smack her arm, harshly whispering, “It’s not that funny!”

“What’s not funny?” I hear Uncle Bobby asked, so I swiftly responded nothing before he gives me and Hen a concerned look.

“She was just telling me about how she’s embarrassed she burnt herself with the curling iron again,” Hen responds as Bobby shook his head and said “You’ve been getting quite a lot of those bruises lately, try to be careful next time alright?”

“Of course Uncle Bobby,” I told him as he walks away, before I turned my attention back to Hen, “I’m going to murder Eddie.”

Hen laughs again as she walks away towards upstairs, leaving me alone in the locker room. A few minutes go by before I hear the door open and footsteps enter.

“Hola Amor,” I hear Eddie whisper in my ear as I feel his hand move down to my ass to squeeze it.

“Eddie,” I warned him while I reached back and removed his hand, “You’re gonna get us in trouble.”

Eddie then moves me around, facing him before putting his hands on my hips and whispering, “With who? Everyone’s upstairs and we’re alone.”

“Even if they are upstairs, this room is like a glass house,” I whispered back as Eddie shook his head and leans in to give me a kiss.

“You worry too much, maybe your uncle will be happy you finally found a handsome man who swept you off your feet,” Eddie says, making me smile, before he continues with, “And maybe he won’t be too mad that his two firefighters happen to be dating.”

“You don’t understand how overprotective Bobby can get, especially about family,” I respond before sighing, “Ever since he’s lost his wife and kids in that fire, he’s been beating himself up mentally. Heaven forbid, something happens to me, to Athena, to May, to Harry, to anyone in the fire family under his watch, I fear he’s could go back into that spiral that made him fall off the wagon.”

“While I can’t exactly say I’ve been in your shoes witnessing that part of Bobby, I do know what it’s like to be overprotective about someone you love,” Eddie says and before I could say I know he’s meaning Christopher, he continues, “I never told you this but before I was to re-enlist to provide money for Christopher’s medical bills, Shannon left us to go take care of her mother. She begged me to go with her, but all I was focusing on was making sure I could give Christopher everything he wanted or needed. She called me selfish for doing so.”

“Edmundo Diaz, nothing about you is selfish. Your son was born with complications and has cerebral palsy so he’s bound to have medical expenses at some points of his life. That kid is so lucky to have you as his father and don’t forget, you had an army standing right behind you helping you out with whatever you needed while you were working various jobs to sustain a living,” I reminded him, which made him give me the biggest smile I’ve ever gotten from him, before he kisses me again, but this time with passion.

“Damn it!” We heard someone shout before we pulled apart and jerked our heads to the sound, Buck.

“Pay up gentlemen,” Hen says as Eddie and I exited the locker room, “Thanks to you two, I’m now $40 richer.”

“How long has this been going on?” Chimney asks before glancing his eyes over to my uncle.

“Are you mad?” I asked, nervous for his reaction since like I told Eddie, he’s overprotective about family.

Bobby then starts making his way downstairs and walks toward me before pulling me into a bear hug.

“There is no way I could be mad about my niece being happy with the man she loves,” Bobby says before I squeezed him back, “But really, how long have you two been together?”

“6 months,” Eddie and I both said before Buck asked if Christopher knows, which prompts Eddie to answer with, “He knows, he’s been very excited about the two of us.”

“When did you tell him?” I asked, curious how Christopher has managed to keep the secret.

“He actually drew a picture of the three of us and when I asked him why he included you, he said you were like a second mom to him. Always there when he needed you or there if he wants to talk to you. He also had suspicions when he saw my contact name for you on my phone,” Eddie responds, making me laugh before I ask him what it is.

Eddie takes his phone out of his pocket and pulls up the contacts before scrolling to the name he has for me, which made my heart melt.

“Mi Amor Por Siempre, which translates to ‘My Love Forever’ in English,” Eddie explains as I try not to cry about the meaning in front of everyone.

“I wonder what your contact name is for him,” Buck pipes up as I laugh at the random outburst.

“Mi Soldado, my soldier,” I said, making Buck confused and he then asked me if it would’ve made more sense for it to be my firefighter, “Eddie may be a firefighter, but he was a soldier first. Still is even if he’s in a different profession, he soldiered through single parenthood, war, and especially soldiered through fire. I couldn’t be any more prouder of him.”

“Now you two are perfect for one another,” Hen says as Eddie dips me and kisses me, making everyone hoot and holler at the scene.

Suddenly the alarm rang and the voice came on to tell us where we were needed. While everyone is hustling and bustling to get ready to leave the station, Eddie whispered, “That wasn’t too bad, was it?”

I smiled before saying, “Definitely not,” as I put my hand in his and we start racing toward the truck, with not a care in the world who’s watching us be in love anymore.

[saltydkdan]

Salty i wanna get into Baki which one do you recommend,the manga or the anime?

Oh you just woke up the fucking beast (I'm so sorry).

I LOVE this question, and as a recent Baki fan myself, I can tell you that getting into the series as a Western consumer can be rough if you don’t have a basic guide to know what you’re getting into…. so that’s what I’m gonna make this post (TEEHEE).

This series has gotta be one of the most insane shonen- actually no- one of the most INSANE PIECES OF FICTION I've ever experienced, and I NEED more people to check it out. Like, LOOK AT THIS SHIT DUDE.

Baki out of context somehow even puts Jojo's Bizarre Adventure to shame. The way I usually pitch it to people is that Baki is as insane as people THINK Jojo is before they read it. Shit is just... MAN LMAO. OBAMA IS FUCKING IN THIS.

Unlike more popular stuff like Dragon Ball and Hunter x Hunter, a lot of this series has just never been officially localized, so knowing where to start, and even how to support the series, is a hard task if you don’t know what you’re doing.

Thankfully THAT’S WHAT YOU HAVE ME FOR. This Tumblr post is gonna be your one stop shop for how to get into Baki as an English speaker (and it’ll give me some space to ramble about one of my latest favorite series).

But uh before we get into the nitty gritty, wanna put some trigger warnings for the series for those who may want to know. Listen, I know how some of these are gonna look to the average person, but this series just be like that sometimes, if you can’t take stuff like this trust me it’s insanely valid. You’ll understand if you choose to take the plunge.

SERIES TRIGGER WARNINGS:

Animated Blood/Violence, some animated gory imagery, Incest (???), Nudity, Urine stuff, Bigfoot/Animal Violence, Death, Uncomfortable looking muscles, and one instance of sexual violence (offscreen)

If you are comfortable with all that (and again, valid as fuck if you aren’t) then let’s talk BAKI!

First off, Manga or Anime?

You would think that either would be fine, but my personal recommendation for Baki as a beginner, is to watch the anime over reading the manga. Simply put: The anime is a lot more widely available and accessible in English speaking territories, and is fairly easy to support officially with its current iteration.

For whatever reason, the manga just never really took off in the West when compared to other series, so it was only ever officially released in English a handful of times, and they only ended up publishing the first few volumes. Theoretically, you can read the first few books to start, but the entire series all together is legit longer than One Piece at a whopping 1,203 chapters, so you are gonna run out of material real quick. The fraction of officially available manga barely scratches the surface of the series.

Even if you’re stubborn about reading the manga and want to try reading fan translations, they come with their own separate batch of issues. Plenty of fan scans you can find online range from wildly outdated, to generally being poor quality at best. There’s even some fan translations that just straight up make shit up and don’t even properly translate the original script. Adding in extra dialogue and slurs randomly to make the text seem way edgier than it actually is.

Full disclosure, I wanna cut through my bias here and say that there are indeed some great scans available on the internet if you look hard enough, especially for the more recent content! But they aren’t super easy to track down with how the series is formatted, and you may accidentally find yourself reading the story out of its proper order.

The watch/read order of Baki is a bit of a toughie for new people, but is actually pretty simple once it’s explained. The story of Baki is split up into multiple different series, kind of similar in format to Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure. Though instead of “Parts”, Baki is split up into completely different manga and TV series. This is why many fans get confused initially, especially with the watch order, because it isn’t laid out in an easy to understand way at first glance.

The most well known series are currently streaming on Netflix, but those aren’t the ones you wanna start with. Nope, the story of the Baki anime actually starts way back in 2001, in a TV show that isn’t streaming officially online. Now if you want to watch out of order, I’m not gonna stop you. You can do whatever you want, by all means, but you’re gonna be missing some VERY important story context, and some characters just won’t hold the same weight.

So if you DO want to watch in order, come with me my friend. Let me show you-

BAKI’S SUPER COOL AND NOT AT ALL CONFUSING WATCH ORDER:

Baki the Grappler (2001) (24 episodes)

This is the original 2001 anime adaptation, the very start of serialized Baki anime. You’re gonna wanna start here trust me.

This series isn’t streaming anywhere officially online, but you can find it… places. Seek it out, trust me, because otherwise you’re gonna pay way too much for out of print DVDs on Ebay. Thankfully though you have options! The series is both subbed and dubbed (as well as every series I discuss from this point forward.

This show is the very start of serialized Baki anime, the very beginning of Baki Hanma’s story. Although it’s not in the way you may think. Despite this being the earliest point in the Baki timeline, it’s actually an adaptation of a later story arc from the manga.

Now I know what you’re thinking, “Didn’t you just say this is where I should start? Why is it adapting something from later in the story?”, and yeah it’s valid to be confused. While yes this is the first ever Baki anime, for some reason the staff behind it made the decision to move this later arc up a bit from the original manga. In my honest opinion, I feel like this is actually a great decision.

As you will see as you watch, this honestly FEELS like this should be where the story begins. The escalation of power and storytelling from this point onward feels very natural, and you won’t miss out on anything or spoil yourself whatsoever on later events.

This is the de facto best starting point.

Grappler Baki Maximum Tournament (2001) (24 episodes)

This is effectively the second season of Baki the Grappler. For whatever reason they decided to title it something else, and while this is the norm for the series later on, this name change is weird because it adapts an arc from the original manga just like the first season of anime I just talked about.

Whatever lol.

Anyway this series, much like the previous, isn’t officially available as of now. So your best option is to SEARCH for it. SEARCH on the INTERNET. Or y’know. The good ol’ expensive out of print DVD on Ebay route.

In my opinion, compared to the first season, this one feels a bit slower paced and a bit of a slog at points but HOLD STRONG TRUE BELIEVER. This season is the introduction to a lot of mainstay characters in the series. Many of which you will come to love, even if you don’t know it yet.

BAKI (2018) (39 episodes) (NETFLIX)

This is the modern adaptation of Baki. After the last series ended in 2001, the anime went on hiatus for 17 years before it was announced that it would be coming back with a modern coat of paint.

Contrary to what you may think, this isn’t a ground up reboot. It’s a continuation of the exact point they left off years ago, right after the Maximum tournament. The only thing that kind of sucks about this is that, at least for the English dub, they replaced most of the voice cast. Most of the new VAs do a great job, however you may need to get used to Yujiro Hanma having Shadow the Hedgehog’s modern VA from the games haha.

Thankfully, you can officially support this series easily via Netflix. Normally I’m pretty eh on Netflix as of late, but this being the only way you can support the show officially in the west, I personally recommend it.

Baki Hanma (2023) (39 episodes) (NETFLIX)

This is the most recent anime! It’s also on Netflix.

Me and my friends just got to this on our watchthrough together.

Anyway, this is my list! If after you catch up you wanna hop into the manga and read the fan scans, I’ve heard that you can start on Baki Hanma/Baki Son of Ogre (chapter 183).

Hope you enjoy the funny man punching show! Feel free to report back and tell me how you feel about it (positive OR negative)!

Like I said, I've been watching the series with friends on Discord every night or so when we're free and MAN. Baki is fucking AMAZING WITH FRIENDS. It just never slows down after a certain point, and it just gets stranger and crazier.