#floater band

[forgotn1]

I think this is, by far, my favorite song from a local band. It's got such an awesome groove that owes a lot to the general psychedelic/hippy vibes of Eugene.

#floater #cinema #floater band #Spotify

[myvinylplaylist]

Star Power (1978)

All Original Hits

K-Tel Records

#my vinyl playlist #kiss band #meco #star wars theme #foreigner #firefall #paul nicholas #england dan & john ford coley #bay city rollers #stephen bishop #paul davis #the babys #little river band #david soul #hot #brick #peter brown #sylvers #floaters #alan o’day #k tel records #classic rock #70’s music #70’s rock #album cover #album art #vinyl records #record cover

[stuntgirlatthevampiremansion]

.

#not to be dramatic but like #i was at a show last night #my friends’ bands were playing #but my vibe got fucking killed halfway through bc even if I was amongst my friends and I love them they were all sith their partners #their partners are also my friends but like #i felt like an eternal third wheel and It felt shitty #i felt shitty like. i was having fun with the music but turned to my friends to sing or dance with them and they were like. with their partn #ers #i was the floater #something something solitary multitude #idk I’ll probably get my period soon #don’t mind me

[pinkhairswagtourney]

#mod post

[weirdmarioenemies]

You know, all this time I never realized that Bomberman had Enemies! I thought it was just all those Bombers Men blowing each other up for sport. And I love those Bombers Men, they are very cute, but wow! Enemies! I love those! Enemies are my friends. There have been sooo many enemies over the course of the franchise, but here I will be talking about the originals from the very beginning! For the sake of consistency, I will be using the artwork from Bomberman Party Edition, since that was sadly the most recent time they all got official art for the same game. Here they come! Some creatures!

BALLOM

Ballom is The Enemy. The first one! It is very simple. It is really just a balloon, sometimes with a string, sometimes not. Watch out for this one! Ever try to kill a balloon before? Don’t let the media fool you, you need a bomb to do it. Ballom actually appeared before all the others in the very first game, called Bomber Man, where it was the only enemy! This game was localized in Europe as... Eric and the Floaters. It sounds like a band name! A real Yoshi’s Island style localization choice. This is not a Bomberman game anymore. It’s an Eric game.

I do not think this is what balloons look like

ONIL

Already we have reached my favorite one! Onil is a blue onion sort of thing, and I am really just a sucker for creatures that are vegetables. It is so cute! It’s almost not recognizable as an onion most of the time, with its tip looking like a dollop of frosting rater than actual onion skin, but the original sprite does a pretty good job of communicating Onion. As you can see at the beginning of the post, its name was originally localized as O’Neal, which I think is very funny. That’s a Last Name right there! This onion was named like a Fortnite character!

DAHL

Dahl is a sort of barrel of a thing! Finally we reach a thing that would more reasonably require a bomb to destroy. Look at its little face though! I feel bad talking about destroying these things with bombs. I don’t have much to say about Dahl, it’s a barrel, though it is a very cute barrel. I can’t think of THAT many other cute barrels.

MINVO

Minvo is a little boring. I’m sorry. But it’s just a Face! Sometimes it is a very inoffensive-looking face, while sometimes it is showing a few teeth, but still just a Face. They don’t do anything all that interesting either. However!

In some 3D appearances, they are not a sphere, but instead shaped like a sandwich cookie! Maybe they have been cookies all along! They even have Filling!

OVAPE

Ovape is a funny one! Originally, it was basically a smiley Pac-Man ghost, which is cute and funny, but not very unique. When allowed more detail, though, it often looks more like an octopus, and not just any octopus, but a hot dog cut into an octopus shape!

You know? Yeah! I don’t know how intentional the resemblance is, but it is very cute and fun.

DORIA

I love Doria! It is some kind of Substance, or perhaps an amoeba, and I love a simple cute blob. It is often seen in this weirdly flat-looking shape, like it was spread on an invisible piece of bread! I would not eat it! Doria moves slowly, but it is slippery and smart, chasing Bomberman while avoiding bombs. Very impressive for a brainless (I assume) blob!

PASS

Here we have our Token Mammal! Pass is a tiger who forgot the rest of itself at home and hops around as a head lump. It almost feels like Minvo, but with an actual design! You’re lucky you became a cookie, Minvo. Pass is fast, like a real tiger, and is able to Pass right through certain solid blocks, which real tigers cannot do. Only snow leopards can.

PONTAN

Another face? Kind of! But not completely! Pontan is a COIN, so more interesting than just a face, and spins around flatly in its animations. They are the most dangerous of the original enemies, and their design does nothing to reflect this! That is funny. Like Pass, it passes through some blocks, but it also hunts you down! If Pontan finds you, you will learn that it can indeed be used as currency. One Pontan is enough to buy you one Death!

Some, but not all, of these enemies would have the privilege of appearing in a Mobile Match 3 Game with the release of Bomberman Chains, and boy! They look weird! All of them! Ballom looks like Chris Griffin. Onil looks like it just woke up at 3:26 AM to go to the bathroom. I cannot say I Like any of these designs here, which is a shame because I think they could have all looked especially cute in Doodle Aesthetic, like Bomberman himself does! But I am glad this happened, it’s funny.

These have been just a few of the many funny little creatures specifically designed to be obliterated by explosions. Thank you.

#bomberman #ballom #onil #dahl #minvo #ovape #doria #pass #pontan #not mario #funky friday #mod chikako

[twogyuu]

like we were eighteen || kdy

Pairing: Doyoung x fem!reader (ft. a whole bunch of SM artists)

Synopsis: Upon your best friend’s insistence, you attend prom for a second time. Much to your surprise, you enjoy it more than either of you were expecting because of a certain someone you wished you met sooner. 

Alternatively: A surprisingly unforgettable night that made Kim Doyoung feel like he was eighteen again: Unsure, giddy, and nervous because of a mere crush. Maybe he’ll listen to Yuta for once and slide into your DM’s  

Genre: Fluff, crack, the slightest bit of angst, best friend!Seulgi, (almost) complete loser!Doyoung, law firm intern!Doyoung, former tennis player!reader, references Adele's When We Were Young

Warnings: Implied alcohol use, profanity, unedited(!!!)

WC: ~5.4k (HELP-)

A/N: This is like the SM Halloween Party, but SM is a high school, LSM is the retired principal, and this is a cheap (second) prom-themed reunion.

TBH, I'm kind of nervous about releasing this. It doesn't feel like my best work especially in the sense that this "drabble" was never intended to be this long 💀 My fingers just typed and then we ended up here 😅 Some way, some how, the way I write the designated member ends up some version of a Renjun I have in my head that I end up projecting onto everyone else 😭 That said, I'm working on better portraying each member of NCT (I'm still new to this!) so please bare with me :') I hope you enjoy this nonetheless!

You wouldn’t have been here, unless your best friend, Seulgi, hadn’t dragged you out. 

Contrary to the beliefs of most people, high school was not the best four years of your life (thankfully). You didn’t have an amazing, close-knit group of friends that helped solve a murder mystery of a girl you remotely knew. You didn’t have a band that you’d rock with every afternoon. There was no cliche, fake-dating, bad-boy-pursues-”good”-girl (were you even?) escapade with the captain of the basketball team, Jung Jaehyun. You didn’t have some sort of self-actualization where you discovered your purpose in this world and the meaning of life when you graduated. 

You were a “floater” – someone with a friend from this group, a friend from that group. You ate lunch in the library by yourself just trying to catch up on the next history reading or finishing the geometry homework – sometimes, Seulgi would join if she wasn’t busy with the volleyball team. You had a fair amount of crushes, but nothing that moved beyond the stage of “admiring from afar.” Besides, the only boy worthy of your time, Choi Minho, had graduated by the time you were a second year student. 

(He didn’t even know your name.)

High school by quickly, but slowly. The four years passed by in a flash: one minute you were a freshman with oily skin rushing through the halls with a map of the school in your hands and the when you blinked, you were suddenly in the auditorium draped in a black graduation gown with an pink tassle bouncing off your face everytime you got up from your chair. Nonetheless, the days were long. Seven, fifty-minute classes filled up your 7AM to 3PM. You’d remember sitting in Mr. Kwon’s physics class just counting the number of ticks of the minute hand as it neared the 12PM bell for lunch. Your lungs burned for air during the mile run in gym class – four rounds around the track felt like an eternity despite the teacher calling out a time of eight minutes. The nights at home never seemed to end when you had a literature essay due the next day. 

That said, you think you could say most people could relate to that experience. Despite the “real” and “true” experiences of teens, Hollywood wanted to share with the world, high school was bland and unmemorable. Despite the fact, most, if not all, of your graduating class was back in the humid and cramped school gym tonight. 

Perhaps there were the few individuals who did have that close knit of friends who they wanted to reunite with. 

Or perhaps, it was merely for the purpose of satisfying one’s curiosity of what happened to everyone. 

Did Jaehyun end up in the NBA like everyone thought he would?

Did the high school sweethearts, Sooyoung and Hyoseob, get married like everyone voted in the yearbook?

Did Dong Sicheng become a doctor like your teachers predicted?

That’s why Seulgi came. 

The theme of the reunion was to recreate prom: “a starry night.”

Standing at the front entrance taking it all end, despite the ten years that have passed, not much had changed about the place. The floors were still scuffed and scratched, if not more, the wax leaving the tan hardwood exposed to further damage underneath. The net of the basketball hoop that used to have a giant hole in it was finally ripped off. The bleachers that had been pulled out were still painted the dull blue. 

The decorations that tried to hide it all were tacky at best. The lights were turned off, the gym only being lit by the several feet of fairy lights that lined the walls and the lit pathways to the larger “dance floor” that was surrounded by balloons. There was a yellow, cardboard crescent moon that hung from the metal beams in the back. A table of refreshments with a royal blue drape stood off to the side. There was a photo wall just outside the east exit – then again, it was just a white curtain with some fake cherry blossoms from the fabric store and a few cheap oversized sunglasses and crowns. Though you didn’t particularly enjoy it, the makeshift bar that overtook where the concession stand used to be seemed to be the best attraction tonight – rumors had Jungwoo, who now owned some fancy brewery in uptown, had graciously volunteered to provide alcohol. 

It was laughable – honestly. You had hoped how tacky some of these decorations were, the “starry night” theme was an intentional decision. 

A shot at satire. 

“Okay!” you heard Seulgi’s heels click against the floor behind you, coming back from the bathroom. She came up to your side and linked arms. “Sorry for making you wait – there was a line.”

“It’s fine,” you replied, putting on your best fake smile for her. 

Frankly, just standing at the entrance and taking all of this in only reminded you how much you didn’t miss high school.  

Seulgi could tell from the way your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes. She tugged you closer and reassured you, “It’ll be good, I promise.”

You only shrugged. 

She rolled her eyes and started leading you inside. The rhythmic snare of the electronic house music grew louder, your eyes adjusting to the darkness. Eyes passed over the two of you as you entered, a few waves being thrown your way because people knew Seulgi. People were huddled away in groups, bouts of laughter bubbling above the music.  

Seulgi leaned closer to you and whispered. “Cheer up a little? You never know who you’ll meet again.”

. . . .

“The invitation said ‘dress to impress’, which usually means semi-formal or formal,” Taeyong explained. He scanned Doyoung’s outfit: distressed dark-washed jeans paired with a white t-shirt and his favorite worn black leather jacket thrown over it. Taeyong pressed his lips together in an effort to keep himself from laughing out loud at his friend’s outfit. “Unless,” he cleared his throat, “That’s how you dress to impress.”

“For the last time, please! I thought it was a casual get-together!” Doyoung retorted. “I missed the memo about this being a formal event.”

“C’mon, Doyoung,” Yuta snorted. He shoved his hand into the pocket of his slacks, tipping his drink towards the other man, “The theme was a “starry night prom” – what in the world made you think it’d be casual? You’re about to finish law school. I thought you were smarter than that.”

Doyoung let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his dark locks, undoing the hold of some of the gel. A strand fell across his eyes as he hung his head forward. Sometimes, he wondered how and why he became friends with these two in the first place. 

“Whatever,” Doyoung grumbled, “I’m already here – I’m not just going to drive an hour back to the city just to change. We’ll just . . . be normal, try to enjoy ourselves. We’re all adults now anyways, no one gives a damn.”

Yuta raised his hands up by his face in surrender. “Okay, okay, fine.”

“Thank you,” Doyoung huffed, pulling at the hem of his jacket. He flexed his back, opting to settle onto the corner of the bottom bleacher. He busied himself with his SmartWatch, crinkling his brows and swiping at the screen, pretending there was some interesting message on there or something. 

(Or something.)

Truth be told, Doyoung didn’t want to come to this stupid reunion in the first place. It’s why he didn’t pay attention to the invitation when he got it in the mail. It’s why he tossed it in the recycling the day after. He didn’t hate high school for he met some of his best friends here. 

Genuinely, he had a good time. 

Doyoung liked to think he was a fairly average student. Someone who didn’t quite stand out amidst the crowd. He played basketball, but never a star player. He did well enough to get on the honor roll in school, but wasn’t one of the valedictorians. He had a group of friends who were fairly well known among his peers, but never one that people paid attention to like Yuta or Jaehyun. 

And he liked it that way. 

As they graduated and entered college, then professional school and/or the workforce, Doyoung realized how much he enjoyed leading a quiet life and keeping to himself. He gets enough drama from hearing about Yuta’s monthly flings or the nepotism at Taeyong’s office. 

Though the past certainly wasn’t remarkable or perfect, he didn’t like to dwell in it, including high school. He was forward minded – working hard on his law degree and dabbled lightheartedly in various hobbies: photography, painting, singing on the rare occasions he could go out. 

Doyoung simply . . . didn’t care enough to want to come to this reunion.

His Achilles heel, however, will always be his two best friends, Taeyong and Yuta, who did want to come to their second starry night prom. 

Yuta had his own intentions of reigniting old flames, though Taeyong merely wanted to drink and to meet up with his old basketball team. The latter was happily engaged after all. 

Doyoung was merely manipulated and dragged along. Though it was nice to see some people again, he had better things to do at home. His mind was just racing with all the tasks and documents he could be reviewing and completing. Alternatively, if he was feeling lazy and just wanted to have fun, there were movies to watch and places to see.

His ideal Friday night was certainly not being trapped in the claustrophobic gym for second prom on-a-budget. 

(He found it strange, however. Most of his classmates were working adults now, right? Shouldn’t they have had more money to afford something more extravagant? And hire a real DJ instead of Johnny?)

Feedback poured through the speakers followed by the sound of two pats. The beat of the previous song started to fade and the said DJ’s voice followed.

“Okay, ladies and gentlemen,” Johnny started, “I think it’s time we slow it down,” He flicked a few buttons on his soundboard to switch out the track, letting a softer melody start to grow. The air filled with the sound of piano keys, soft guitar chords plucking in the background. 

“Grab yourself your partner who none of us has ever met and you met them after high school,” a round of chuckles spread throughout the gym, “Or perhaps someone who you never had the guts to tell them you liked them when we were in high school?”

Everybody loves the things you do. From the way you talk, to the way you move.

“We’re throwing it back to our angst days – Adele, ‘When We Were Young.’”

Johnny backed away from the might and twisted a knob slowly to turn up the volume of the somber song. Couples, hand-in-hand, started breaking off from larger groups or descended down the bleacher stairs to join the dance floor. There were a few who Doyoung recognized, mildly surprised that some high school sweethearts do indeed last (Jaehyun and Emmy not being one of them – not to anyone’s surprise). 

“Damn,” Taeyong nodded approvingly. A grin spread across his face. “Johnny coming through with the nostalgia.”

He was quick to excuse himself to find his fiance afterwards, leaving Doyoung alone with Yuta. 

“You gonna ask anyone to dance?” Yuta asked, though his attention wasn’t on his friend. His eyes scanned through the sidelines, looking for a lonely sole to prey on. 

“Nah,” Doyoung sighed, “I don’t think so.”

Yuta’s eyes landed on someone on the other side of the dance floor, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. His hand swung over, holding his drink in front of Doyoung’s face, signaling for his friend to hold it. 

“Well, if you excuse me then, I think I’m gonna shoot my shot,” Yuta tilted his chin up. 

“Who are you talking about?” Doyoung asked, squinting into the crowd. He pulled the plastic cup filled with pink liquid from his friend’s hand. 

“Hina,” Yuta looked down at his friend. 

Doyoung zeroed in on the black-haired beauty in the navy blue slip mini dress. He snickered – some things just don’t change and that included Yuta’s type. 

“You sure she isn’t married yet, man?” Doyoung asked. 

“I don’t see a ring on her finger.”

“You can’t see shit from here.”

Yuta shot him a playful wink, already starting to walk backwards. “Pray for me that she’s not then?”

“No, gross,” Doyoung chortled. “Good luck though!”

As Yuta disappeared into the crowd, Doyoung let his eyes wander to see who was left. By no means he did expect everyone to be dancing, but he always found it interesting who remained during these more soft and romantic moments. 

If he could, he would’ve gone home already, but he was DD for his friends tonight, and people watching wasn’t the worst thing. 

It could be the most fun actually at a party like this. 

His eyes didn’t linger for long, however, as they landed on you, sitting a few feet away with your legs crossed. You were hard to miss – the white dress you wore stood out in the dark. squinting , he could make out a bored expression on your face, something that Doyoung thought he probably looked like too. 

He knew you and you knew him. 

But that was the extent of your relationship. He remembers you from the few classes you shared throughout and he heard of you peripherally through Taeyong who was friends with Seulgi. A friend of a friend of a friend is the closest he was to you. Nonetheless, you weren't hard to miss – Doyoung remembered you always sat in the front, even if there weren't assigned seats. If your face wasn’t familiar, the back of your head certainly was. 

Did he even bother to say hi in that case?

However, it seemed like you had the answer for him already. 

“Doyoung, right?” you called. You were standing a few feet away from him with your hands clasped together in front of you. “Kim Doyoung?”

He peered up at you, blinking owlishly as he paused to process the current situation. 

“R-right. Right!” Doyoung chuckled, trying to save himself. “Kim Doyoung – that’s me.”

You gave him a small wave. “I . . . um, I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m–”

“Y/N Y/L/N,” he finished for you. “From freshman geography, sophomore history and literature, and senior year chemistry, calculus, and PE.” He peered up at you, the right corner of his lip curling up into a friendly smile. “Of course, I remember you.”

You let out a nervous chuckle, letting your chin dip into your chest. “I just wasn’t sure since we didn’t talk much.”

Doyoung nodded. “That’s understandable.”

Unbeknownst to you, your own face was reflecting a similar bashful smile. 

Doyoung waited patiently, half-expecting you to leave. Again, you didn’t run in the same circles – maybe you were only greeting him out of courtesy. 

Yet, there was something about you tonight that made him wish you’d stay a minute longer. 

Just long enough so he could figure out what this feeling was. 

A beat passed between the two of you, only Adele’s voice filling the distance between the two of you. The song was already drawing to a close, the instrumentals coming down and her voice flipping down into a softer note. 

“How are you?” you finally asked, feigning confidence to hide the shake in your voice. 

You could have just left after saying ‘hello’ – heck, you were planning on it. 

It was just like a movie.

“Good,” Doyoung replied. 

It was just like a song.

Doyoung might not have known it at the time, but you also felt the same: anxious and eager to pull away to clear your nerves, but not quite ready to leave. You wanted to linger a little longer and you hoped he would let you.

When we were young.

“Um . . .” you shook your head and pinched the bridge of your nose, “This is gonna sound ridiculous, but do you want to . . .” you pointed your thumb back at Jungwoo’s makeshift bar. “Maybe grab a drink?”

“I would really like that.”

Maybe Seulgi was right. 

You never knew who you were going to meet again.

. . . .

30 minutes earlier

“You should go talk to him!” Seulgi had urged you. She jostled your arm urgently. 

“Doyoung?” you frowned. “I don’t even know if he remembers me.”

“Why wouldn’t he? And who wouldn’t?” Seulgi replied. 

You shook your head, pulling your best friend off your arm. “Why do you even want me to?”

She gave you an incredulous look, scoffing a little. “Weren’t you just complaining yesterday about not liking anyone from the city and you were going to live with me forever and die alone?”

“I was in a mood,” you defended. 

“He’s cute and I think you’d look good together,” she smiled innocently. 

“Seulgi,” you deadpanned. 

“Hey,” she pointed at you, “You never know where it would go – plus, he’s nice.”

“That’s so . . . bare minimum.”

“I know him peripherally – the few times I hung out with Taeyong and we had projects together,” Seulgi explained, “He is actually nice-nice and he works hard. Non-problematic and drama-free like you like them.”

“People change,” you shot back. 

“Look,” Seulgi rolled her eyes. She was tired of this game of seesaw with you. “If you don’t try at least a little bit – no one’s going magically fall into your lap. Even if I just know him a little bit, I get good vibes from him. 

“What’s the worst that can happen? If it doesn’t work out tonight, you never have to see him again and I won’t drag you to the next one.”

. . . .

Doyoung didn’t turn out half bad.

Okay . . .

He was great. 

Wonderful – almost.

(You had to cut yourself a little bit of pride.)

After getting over the awkward hump of getting reacquainted with one another, you surprisingly felt comfortable around him. He was easy to talk to – good at holding a conversation. Rather than rambling about himself, he followed up on your comments with questions asking you to elaborate. If you didn’t want to delve too deep, he’d understand and start on another topic. 

You had learned that the both of you had both moved to the city – or it seemed most of your friend group had. He lived on his own on the north end, while you stayed on the westside with Seulgi. Though he refused the idea as a kid, he ended up spending the majority of the last eight years of his life buried in law school like his mother wanted. He was finishing up his last year, interning at an international law firm. He was grateful for Taeyong and Yuta who had stayed by himself throughout it all, bringing the sparks of spontaneity and fun that made for good stories to balance out the rigorous coursework.

You liked him. He was down-to-earth and there was a calming presence about him. Unintentionally, he was funny too, you found it endearing. He was clumsy - tripped over his own feet and leading you in the wrong direction to the science hallways to show you where his old locker was when it was on the other side of the school.

Ironically, he made you feel giddy - it's like the butterflies you got in middle school when your crushed said 'hello' to you for the first time. Usually an unpleasant and nerve-wracking feeling, however, you . . . kind of liked it?

You could decide that much now. 

Doyoung and you stood next to each other on the side, overseeing the blue and white tennis courts. The two of you, not much of the drinker nor dancer, had opted to wander around the school and talk instead, the conversation spanning anywhere from your lives now to memories associated with each stop. It was as if your feet had communicated and led you both out here. As bland as high school was, the courts held a special spot in your memories. 

The early spring night was still chilly. The soft breeze raised goosebumps along your bare shoulder and rustled through your hair. The sky was clear, but a strange shade of deep purple and navy blue. A few stars were speckled across the sky and the real moon shone like a light at the end of a tunnel from afar – it wasn’t anything special per se, but it was pretty, unlike the tacky one inside. 

“Do you still play?” Doyoung asked, turning to you. He caught how your arms were crossed over your body, rubbing away the bumps on your arm. 

You shook your head. “Tennis requires two people and no one else around me really likes to play. I stopped somewhere in college.”

Silence, then a beat.

“I’ll be your partner if you want to play again,” Doyoung said casually. 

That caught you off-guard. 

“Oh,” you said softly, “Um . . . thanks – I’ll think about it.”

“No seriously,” Doyoung insisted. “I like trying out different sports – I might not be as good as you, but someone’s better than no one right?”

Was he . . . flirting with you? If you remembered right, Doyoung didn’t play sports really – that was more Yuta’s thing. It was a strange offer. 

You turned to look at him to see if something suggested otherwise. 

He looked unfazed by his own words – like he didn’t know that what he just said made your heart jump a little. His face was serious, not even the slightest hint of that nervous smile dancing on his lips when you first said ‘hello.’

He probably didn't realize it, so you pretended to brush off the excitement and opted for a more equally neutral reply.

“I’ll consider it,” was all you replied. 

“I mean it.”

Yeah . . . he didn't. The insistence wasn't playful, but rather earnest - it wasn't creepy whatsoever though. It was . . . endearing. You held back your laughter and cleared your throat.

“I don’t doubt it.”

As you turned away, another breeze blew by, causing you to shiver. 

Doyoung made a brisk ‘tsk’ and began shrugging off his jacket. Before you could protest, the garment was already hanging around your shoulders. The ghost of his body heat wrapped around your body, the goosebumps disappearing and warming you immediately. 

“Don’t try giving it back,” Doyoung said before you could protest. 

“Aren’t you cold though?” you asked, clutching onto the collar. 

Doyoung hummed softly and shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s not too bad.”

However, the way he was quick to wrap his hand around his waist at another whip of a wind suggested something different. 

You chortled, slipping the jacket off your body to give it back to him. 

“Nuh-uh,” Doyoung shoved it back into your chest. “Keep it – I’m fine.”

“But –”

“It’ll give me a reason to come back and talk to you at the end of the night,” he huffed. He turned around so you couldn’t see how his cheeks were burning bright pink.

He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling himself cringe at what he said. He’s not sure if he wanted to see your reaction right now either. Doyoung still struggled to read you after spending the past few hours with you.

“Let’s go back inside," he pressed on, "Um, I think I hear Taeyong calling for me.”

. . . .

As reluctant as the both of you were to come to this reunion, you both were as reluctant to leave. Your friends had dragged you here and were now struggling to drag you back home. Seulgi, Taeyong and his fiance, and Yuta leaned against the latter’s car, arms crossed over their chest, a bored expression settling onto their face as they watched you and Doyoung from afar. 

“How much long do you think they’ll take?” Taeyong asked. 

“Five minutes?” Seulgi offered, though she wasn’t so sure. 

“Yah!” Yuta shouted from across the parking lot. 

You and Doyoung looked over. 

Yuta waved his arms wildly. “Just hurry up and kiss!” he tapped aggressively at his watch. “We don’t have all night!”

Doyoung sucked in a sharp breath, raising an arm in a punching motion. 

“You know, I kind of regret encouraging her to talk to him,” Seulgi commented.

Taeyong and Yuta looked over at the girl. She could feel their critical, but shocked eyes on her.

“What?” she asked. 

“Doyoung didn’t approach her first?” Yuta asked.

Seulgi shook her head. “No.”

“Wow,” Taeyong snorted, “And here I was, thinking he had game.”

. . . . 

“Sorry,” Doyoung said, turning his attention back to you. “Yuta’s not very patient.”

“It’s okay,” you nodded, teetering on the heel of your feet. You clapped your hands together and looked up at him. “Um, I guess . . . this is it, then?”

He nodded slowly, though he could already feel the disappointment growing in his chest. “I guess.”

Did you not want to see him again after this? 

Was this really going to be it for you and him? 

Did he do something wrong to push you away?

“I . . . had a surprisingly good time,” you continued slowly. You peered at him through your lashes with wide eyes. “Thanks to you.”

A hand flew to the back of his neck, while he let out a nervous chuckle. Doyoung waved you off. “Please – it was nothing, just . . . trying to pass time and make the most of it,” he blinked owlishly a few times before realizing how wrong that sounded coming out of his mouth. “I mean, no, like, I had a good time too. I-I just . . . wasn’t trying to do anything special or hit on you, not like I was just using you or you were boring – nothing like that!”

“I know,” you chuckled. “I’ll . . . see you around?”

“Uh . . . yeah?” Doyoung offered, confused. 

How? The two of you had lived in the same city for the past three years and hadn’t bumped into each other once. 

You smiled softly and offered him a hand. Doyoung’s eyes flickered from it to your face and back again. 

“It was nice seeing you again, Doyoung – and,” you tilted your head coyly to the side,”Actually talk to you. You’re not too bad.”

“Likewise,” he replied, grabbing onto your hand. He gave you a firm squeeze, but rather than letting go right away, he just . . . held on. 

“Best of luck in your last year of school.”

“Thank you,” he sighed, offering you an awkward smile. 

“Um,” you chuckled, tugging away your hand to no avail. “If you could . . . let go.”

“Oh! Right, sorry,” Doyoung shook his head and pulled away. He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans.

“Bye, Doyoung.”

And then you were gone. 

Your heels clicked against the dark asphalt as you descended off the curb into the parking lot, making your way to a red Toyota Corolla that he presumed was either yours or Seulgi. He watched you eagerly, a part of him wishing you’d turn around and wave, spare him one last glance – even the slightest turn of your head. 

Just anything that would indicate that maybe he was lingering on your mind like you were on his. 

Much to his dismay, you only waved Seulgi over. 

Just as you opened the door to the passenger side and were about to climb in, Doyoung took off in a run, bolting towards you. 

“W-wait!” he cried, garnering the attention of not only his friends and you, but all the other guests in the parking lot too. 

Doyoung didn’t like attention, but right now, he didn’t care. He just needed to talk to you

You paused, one foot in the car, one still out on the pavement. 

He came to a halt a few feet away, resting his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. You waited patiently, giving him a moment to even his breathing. Out of the corner of your eye, you could make out Seulgi eavesdropping on the confrontation. His friends were snickering from the distance – Yuta especially with a shit-eating grin on his face. 

“I, um,” Doyoung stood up tall. He lifted his gaze to look at you. “D-do you think, maybe, I could . . . we could see each other again?” 

You didn’t reply right away. You were stoic and each second passed felt like a beat closer to doomsday. He knew the worst that could happen was that you said ‘no’ and he would never have to see you again. Nonetheless, he didn’t wish for such a thing and the disappointment would eat at him for the next few days. 

The question of “what if” was a powerful one. 

“I’m still looking for a partner for tennis, so I don’t see why not,” you finally replied. A soft, playful smile danced on your lips.

It was . . . very pretty. He wondered why he didn’t notice earlier. 

Immediately, his demeanor brightened. A grin stretched across his face at your reply. His hands fumbled around as he tried to find his phone in one of his many pockets, slipping in and out of the front and back. He shoved them in slits of his leather jacket too and came up with nothing. 

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath. 

Doyoung has never lost his phone before – why now?

“I, um,” he showed you his empty hands. “I don’t know where my phone went, but if I could, I would love to get your number somehow?”

You dipped your chin to your chest, a girlish chuckle falling from your lips at his clumsy demeanor. 

“I don’t have a pen to write it on your palm,” you told him. 

“Oh,” he said softly. Asking himself more than you, he muttered, “What will we do?”

“But um . . . you have Instagram, right?” you asked, a new idea forming.

You always seemed to be a step in front of him. 

“Yeah,” Doyoung nodded, though still confused. 

“Well, Kim Doyoung,” you bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from grinning too widely, “This is me giving you permission to slip into my DMs.”

Doyoung thought he stopped breathing for a minute. 

The flirt was so . . .  blatant. Not that you couldn’t, but he wasn’t prepared for it nor was he expecting it from you. 

“What’s your at?” Doyoung asked. 

At that moment, you slipped into the passenger seat. You left the door open a crack and called out to him, “Ask Suh! He follows me on Instagram!”

The door slammed shut and Seulgi had already started backing out. 

You were friends with Johnny?

. . . .

1 week, 2 days, 3 hours, and 12 minutes later

[k_dy]: Hey!

[k_dy]: I found my phone 🙂

[k_dy]: It fell out of my pocket in between the cracks of Yuta’s car 💀

[k_dy]: Sliding into you DM’s liked you asked:)))))

[k_dy]: hehehe

[k_dy]: oh wait um –

[k_dy]: 127-07-1218

[k_dy]: call me ;)

[k_dy]: pls 🙏

Yuta snorted at the string of messages and looked up at his friend sitting across the wooden table. Doyoung was stiff, sitting tall in his seat at the cafe. The Iced Americano in front of him had hardly been touched. Doyoung had asked Yuta to meet up to go over his messages – he was worried he messed up because he messaged you this morning with no response. Yuta didn’t have the best dating history, so it was hard to call him an ‘expert’, but he definitely knew how to flirt and play these games a lot better than Doyoung.

“Well?” Doyoung asked, nervously. 

“Dude, you are so lame,” Yuta cackled. "Who puts that many parentheses for a smiley face?"

"Well what I was supposed to do?"

"I'll help you come up with something more . . . concise and slick," Yuta wrinkled his nose in dismay at his friend. "Before she sees all of these, you need to unsend-"

Seen.

Yuta's jaw fell slack.

"What?" Doyoung asked. "What? Did she reply?

He reached for his phone and new blue message flashed across the top of his screen. 

[unknown number]: I think I’m gonna hold off on calling you first lol. 

[unknown number]: But I’ll text first ;)

[unknown number]: This is Y/N. Glad you found your phone <3

(Frankly, you didn’t think he was ever going to slide into your DMs.)

#doyoung x reader #doyoung fluff #doyoung scenarios #nct x reader #nct fluff #nct scenarios #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 fluff #doyoung #kim doyoung

[youmarin]

Now Recruiting! ft. Inarizaki VB Boys - Part 8: Inarizaki v.s. Itachiyama

Summary: It’s time for the Summer Interhigh Tournament. Rivals face each other. And after, what will the next semester bring to the boys and Miss Manager?

Word count: 3,690 + Extra 12 (214)

previous, series masterlist

“Oi! I’m leaving, you know! Exhausting yourselves won’t help you out.”

“Just one more.” The setter said as he made his starting run. One. Two. Three. Four. Jump floater. Suna, who was on the other side of it, wasn't able to discern the real trajectory - or maybe he was already tired and began to half ass-, and took position too far up front. He received it. The only problem is he did so with his face. “Holy fuck!” Atsumu cursed and ran over to him.

“Suna!” You dropped the other volleyballs you had picked up on the cart - didn’t want to risk anyone tripping on one and getting injured. One’s never too safe- and ran over to check up on the dark haired boy lying on the ground.

“Are you okay?” You leaned over him from one side. He was blinking, probably trying to make out what had just happened to him. And there were three of you looking down on him. If he wasn’t worried by the simultaneous numbness and hurt he felt on his face he might’ve thought he was having a dream.

“He should be okay. If it were a spike serve he might’ve passed out.” Everyone finds reassurance differently, you guessed.

“I’m fine.” He tried to sit by grabbing the hand Osamu was offering. He missed it.

“Think you might’ve given him a concussion?” Osamu tried again and gently helped him sit. Suna’s head spun for a moment but it slowly came back to focus. “What day is it?”

“2nd of August.” Suna answered as you inspected the red spot on his forehead, brushing his hair away from his face.

“Who hit ya straight on your snout?” No answer. “Oi. Suna, I’m speaking to you.”

“What?” He briefly looked away from your concerned eyes and looked over to where Osamu was by one side before returning to look at you. “Oh. ‘Tsumu did.”

“Okay, y/n, Imma need you step out for a moment.”

“What?” You looked at him, confused.

“You’re clearly distracting him. I can’t consider the integrity of this test if I don’t know if he’s concussed or just crushing on you.”

“Well, okay.” You left, still worried yet a bit flustered. “I’ll bring the first aid kit.”

Kita gave the team a fearsome earful for not going home after the countless times he told them to, making them warm up properly before leaving -and 10 extra laps to make things interesting-. After making sure that Suna was okay -Suna’s punishment got a rain check, but for now he was staring at his fellow second years, Akagi and a couple of first years, thinking he was on the clear- , you took care of his nosebleed, sitting on the court’s left side bench. He felt so lame right now. “I’m glad it wasn’t anything serious.”

“Of course it’s serious.” Suna answered, “Atsumu could’ve broken my nose or ruined my face.” You laughed.

“Well, he didn’t. But someone else might someday if you’re continuing this career path.”

“Not if I actually receive with my arms.”

You fell in a comfortable silence as you worked. You tilted his head and moved to wipe the blood off his lips and nose .

“How are you feeling?” You asked after a while. Suna straightened up and seeing as he wasn’t bleeding over his face and t-shirt anymore you considered it safe.

“I’m okay.” He nodded, trying to ignore how his surroundings blurred when he did. But when he stood up, you noticed the gone look that flashed in his eyes for a second.

“You’re still dizzy, aren’t you?” you quirked a brow, then chuckled softly, “Here.” proceeding to wrap one of his arms around your shoulders and put one of yours around his torso.

***

Everyone was busy. From afar, you could hear the faint melodies while the school band rehearsed. The cheering squad gathered their team and practiced their routines and mottos - the captain even asked if you were interested in joining them like last time-, and as every year it was expected that a great part of the student body would attend to support their team. It was a big moment for the whole community. Thankfully, the boys were used to all of it, and rather than feeling pressure over it, they couldn’t be more excited. They knew the extent of their capabilities and their responsibility. And as their team captain always said: There’s no point in being nervous if you know what you can do.

***

“Where’s y/n?”

“She has a talent of disappearing without anyone noticing.”

“It’s quite scary if you think about it.”

“She hasn't left. Her stuff’s on the bleachers.”

“I can’t wait to get over with this.”

“I know. I bet it’s been awfully hard for you to keep your mouth shut.”

“Guys,” They all turned when they heard you, “c’mon, we have to leave soon. Don’t even think of extra practice time today- Wait. What are you up to?” You eyed them warily. The boys were all huddled in a group, each set of eyes looking in your direction pairing with innocent smiles - which inspired the opposite of innocent intentions. No one could blame you for being suspicious -.

“We have a surprise for you.” Osamu said, stepping up. His twin grabbed what he was holding and didn’t give him a chance to protest before he was handing it over to you.

“A-A what? Why?” After all, you thought you were the one supposed to prepare them a gift given the occasion. You stared at the box with a little bow on top, then straight to the blonde’s smiling face and at the rest of the boys, at a loss for words.

“When someone offers you a present you don’t ask such questions. Just accept it.” Aran encouraged.

You reached for it, brushing hands with the setter as you grabbed it. “Thank you.”

“But since you asked,” Osamu started after glaring at his brother as you opened it and saw it, “We wanted you to know, if you still hadn’t figured it out, that you are as important to us as any of the members of the team.”

“We appreciate all the work you do, your kindness and you taking care of us.” Kita added.

In your hands, you held a familiar fabric of equally familiar colors. It was a shirt like the ones they used on their official matches: black, with the name of the team written in white bold letters on the front and your name on the back.

You felt warmth spreading all over your chest. They could be a handful sometimes, but this was your team and also your friends, and you were so proud of them.

You hugged the blonde boy in front of you , taking him by surprise yet he was quick to return it. When you pulled back, you beamed at him, and he was thankful the other guys joined for a hug and stole your attention from his burning face and pounding heart.

Morning came, and this morning was not one to wish to stay five more minutes in bed or to sit at the edge of it with your head lost in space. You were up in a beat, turning off your alarm before it could go off and dashing to the bathroom to get ready. Getting out, you got dressed up, your Inarizaki tee shirt under your jacket.

“Good morning.” your mom saluted, looking at you oddly for how animated you appeared this morning.

“Mornin’ mom.”

“Wait, you’re not having anything for breakfast?”

“Uh no,” you said, adjusting your bag on your shoulder before balancing on one leg while you put on one shoe, then doing so the other way, “I grabbed something for later though. Want to get to the club room before the boys to double check that everything's in order.”

“You have everything you need?” She asked and you ran over your mental note.

“Yeah, I think so.” You kissed her cheek goodbye when she came over to see you off, “I’m heading out. See ya later.”

“Good luck!”

All the boys were quiet during the ride over to the gymnasium where Interhigh Tournament would take place, and by all it means even Atsumu was sharing his earphones with his twin and was sitting quietly, bobbing his head softly to the beat of his music. He was lively, could even describe him as wild sometimes, but you could count on him to remain sober and serious on such big moments. Suna was nodding to whatever the captain was saying to him. It was a bit amusing and also endearing seeing him look a little nervous listening to Kita. Ginjima was speaking with his upperclassman Aran, while Omimi and Akagi chatted with the first years, which seemed to be the most nervous.

The gym was a large building, fit for the several matches that would be taking place simultaneously. You went with the coach and you were quick to find your section upon your arrival, leading the team inside. Bright lamps on the ceiling met your eyes as you looked up, taking in the scene, while the chilly air from the air conditioned space hit your face. Other teams were heading to their respective areas and some of the first contenders were already warming up on their side of the court.

Dropping their bags, the boys took off their school jackets and changed their tees to their uniform. Some put on their knee pads and arm sleeves before they all headed over to the court to start their warmup routine. Warmups and drills had also another purpose besides, well, getting ready for the game. It was also a time to show off; show your confidence, your skill to the opposite team, and what they were about to confront. If you knew how to do it, and the Inarizaki boys were infamous for that, you could lead them on with a bit of intimidation.

“C’mon show me your best one, ace.” Atsumu encouraged Aran, who gave his start before jumping in the air with excellent form and slamming the ball on the floor to the other side of the net with booming force. Smiling, the setter watched the ball bounce off, making eye contact with one of the players from the other team when he looked up, smile unwavering.

Other players achieved to make their rivals uneasy without meaning to. Kita was that type. As he carried out with his drills, purpose-set as usual, boys from the other team stared at the captain move seemingly effortlessly. Reputation also helped, as the known middle-blocker Suna Rintaro moved on the court with such familiarity as if he were back on the Inarizaki High gym.

Of course, they didn’t reveal everything then and there. It was only a taste before the real thing started. The boys were also good with the element of surprise.

The stands above began to fill up with students from the different schools of the prefecture and from outside, and volleyball fans overall. These sort of events always attracted people from all over, ages ranging from the youngest to the eldest.

You recognized your school, the band standing in their place and the cheering squad hanging the banner you had made on their spot. Soon enough, the ref blew his whistle calling for the coaches to hand him the information of their respective starting lineups and player positions. After, it was just a few more minutes before he called for the captains to decide which side served first.

*

When the boys’ first couple of matches were over and they’d won without major inconveniences, you rushed over to watch the other matches and keep track of the bracket.

“I think Inarizaki should be over too. You think they did alright?”

“Dunno. But if Miya plans to defeat us they better have.” The blonde may not be his favorite person, but the rivalry was there. And things wouldn’t be as interesting or fun without it.

At that moment as they turned to head over the court where your team’s match had taken place, Sakusa saw you coming.

“Y/n!” Motoya waved at you, “Good to see you.”

“Hi, guys.” you smiled, happy to find friends out of the multitude. They were carrying a towel around their shoulders and you took it as their most recent match had just finished as well. Sakusa’s otherwise neat kept locks were a bit messy, slightly damp by his sweat. His dark eyes emitted friendliness as he acknowledged you, even a small smile threatened to take over his features.

“Did you guys win?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You responded with a satisfied tone and knowing smile. “Did you?”

“You really had to ask?” Motoya said jokingly.

“So that means that if we both win our next matches,” you looked down at the papers on your clipboard.

“We’ll face each other.” Sakusa finished for you. “So you better make it.”

And both teams did make it and were bound to face each other.

The other matches had gone alright. The team never underestimated any of the others. Sure, someone could get a little over its head and there was a little taunting, but it was normal for players to mess with opponents psychologically.

But considering these two teams knew each other better, they felt as if there was this responsibility for each other to go all out for it to work and have a good match. Both teams didn’t seem as exhausted as they saluted each other in the middle of the court before their match started.

During the first minutes of the first set, the team made a few mistakes while the coach told them to get themselves together. He had to call for a time out before Itachiyama could further their lead. After that, things fell into a good rhythm for them and they took the first set.

The game went downhill for them from that point on. Itachiyama’s defense surpassed them, not letting a lot of the boy’s attacks land and prolonging the rallies. Even when both Suna and Aran were on the court they couldn’t earn enough points to steal another set. They knew how to find their weakest spots, and who to target. And things only got worse as the game continued and they grew more fatigued and frustrated.

Atsumu set the ball for Suna, but the latter wasn’t fast enough in his approach and had to hurriedly make the pass, without as much force as he would’ve liked.

“Feint!” Motoya called and another of the players called for the ball, easily receiving it. They spiked it over and Kita was there to readily pass it to Atsumu, who set it for Aran. The ace tried to hit over the blockers that were marking him, but the hit lost power as it hit one of the blockers' hands.

The road for Inarizaki ended with none other than Sakusa sending a spike over to their side.

*

The beginning of the second semester. Your second semester in your new school, and this time it wasn’t as daunting. Now, you had the boys from the volleyball team. You reached the school gates, and not long after crossing them, you found your fellow second years.

“Y/N!” Gin noticed you first.

“We gotta take a group photo.” Atsumu stated, leading Suna to ask a random student to take a picture of you. Awkwardly, the boy accepted Suna’s phone.

“Do we really have to?” First mistake.

“Are you saying you don’t want to take a photo with us? Do you even like us?”

“No! Of course not!- Wait. Hold up,” Nothing you were saying was coming up straight judging by his face. Even the other three seemed to deflate a little. “What I mean is that I do like you.” You said looking straight into the setter’s eyes. And why were his cheeks burning all of a sudden?

“Then why not take a picture?” Suna, who kept a digital record of everything he could, asked you. “It’ll be nice to look back at it.”

“I just don’t look very flattering in front of a camera.” you shrugged, trying to play down your insecurities. “Plus, we have taken plenty of photos together.” During games they always made you.

Of course, some of them had noticed you’ve been shy regarding the topic. But that wouldn’t be the end of it. “But we don’t have one of this moment.” Osamu said.

“If I may say, I think you’re very pretty, Y/n.” The boy, still holding Suna’s phone, nervously said. Suna quirked an eyebrow.

“Oh. Thank you.” Receiving compliments was nice. You wished you knew how to take them. It made you feel a little bad that you didn’t even know the boy’s name. But to be honest, you were bad with those too.

“Yes, she is. Glad your eyes are working dude. Now take the picture.” Atsumu shared his opinion but wasn’t thrilled to hear the boy shoot his shot right in front of his face. You ended up apologizing for him. Someone was a little on edge today.

They all looked at you, their expressions all saying, Please?

“Fine.”

Now, the other problem was picking where they would stand. Osamu ended up pushing his way between you and his twin, while Gin stood on your right. Since Suna was the tallest, he stood behind you. He whispered something in your ear, which made you smile and your face heat up.

After looking through the pictures, complaining about how he looked on some of them, the blonde finally broke down, “Did ya see that nonsense about a ceremony to recognize the team for our representation at Interhigh?”

You looked at the others searching for clues regarding the cause of Atsumu’s newest outburst, which was somehow related to the ceremony. Osamu’s expression denoted some sort of pain (now you had no doubt Atsumu was the cause of this pain), Gin hung his head, while Suna turned away, whistling. Thanks a lot, boys. Finally, your eyes settled back on the setter. “Uh… Yes, the coach sent me an e-mail about it. That’s great!-“ Osamu started gesturing and shaking his head. What? Did you say something wrong?

Okay, so the school wanted to recognize the volleyball team’s job in the tournament. Of course, there were some mixed feelings about it. The team had lost. But they’d reached semifinals and that landed them a spot at Spring High Nationals. They might’ve not won but still their hard work paid off. So that was good, right? That was what you thought before this conversation and the scene unfolding at the moment.

Second mistake.

“Oh yeah. Right. I mean, after all, the important thing is having fun. And second place is great.” Atsumu’s words were dripping with sarcasm. “We are the second best.” He gestured with his hands, making an arch. “It isn’t enough that we lost. No, they have to rub it in our faces calling us shitty names. Just outright call us a bunch of losers.” He muttered the last part. For a moment you had forgotten who you were talking to. Atsumu was one of the most competitive people you’ve ever met.

But still, he was dismissing a lot. “Okay, I get it. Second place might suck for you but you can’t just brush away all your and your teammates' sacrifice to get where you are.” There you were. They boys could always count on you to knock some sense into them. “But it’s good that you don’t settle. It makes you keep aiming high.” You smiled at him.

Atsumu stared at you for a moment. That funny feeling from the other day kept creeping and blooming all over his chest. And what was that fluttering on his stomach?

Osamu looked at him, waiting for his brother to speak again whether it be another complaint or another snarky comment. But when it took a few beats more than usual, it clicked to him.

“But…” Atsumu’s voice wavered a bit as he regained his composure and started walking behind you as you made your way to your classroom. The bell would ring soon. The rest followed you two. “It doesn’t mean I have to attend, right?”

“Uh, I think you should. You don’t want to be rude.”

“You’re saying that to one of the rudest, meanest people here.”

“I’m not mean!”

“Remember that girl that tried to give you homemade cookies she made herself and you said you weren’t interested in buying them?”

“It was a misunderstanding, Gin.”

“Sure it was.” Suna snorted, “And right after when she clarified, you didn’t accept them saying you had to take care of your weight.”

“We’re athletes. It’s very important to look after what we eat, and I didn’t know what she put on those.”

“You were stuffing your face right after eating pudding. And one of those was mine.”

“I told you I didn’t eat it!”

“Okay. That is pretty rude, Atsumu.”

“Whatever.” He frowned, “I’m not interested in any of those squealing girls. And this is besides the point.”

“Well,” you said, swerving back to the topic, “Think of it as a rehearsal. Years later, you become a pro player and something like this happens. You dislike it, but you go, show your face, be grateful,” You emphasize that point, “and then you leave. Even if you truly hate it. You can still complain all you want and we’ll hear you out.”

“ “We” sounds like a lot of people. I don’t know.” Ginjima scratched the back of his neck.

“Count me out.”

“I’ll hear you out.” you fixed.

“I guess I will too.” Osamu added. He didn’t think he'd have much choice. “And who knows, maybe one day you’ll learn about good sportsmanship.”

“Fake it ‘til you make it.”

“So you want me to be fake.” Atsumu stated.

“No.” you glared at Suna, hitting him in the arm - it felt more like a caress to him.-, making him chuckle. “Just,” you raised a finger, “Don’t be rude,” another, “be grateful,” the finale, “and go to your classroom you all.”

**

Extra 12: Shirt on or shirt off? [word count: 214]

“I’ll walk you to your dorm. I just need to arrange some things into the storage room first.” You said as you walked behind Suna towards their locker room and stood in the doorway while he grabbed his stuff, insisting on seeing him off safely.

“I feel better now. And it’ll be more late for you to get home. Who says I’ll let you go if you go with me?” Suna tried reassuring you and, why not, teasing you a little bit.

With lack of a response, he turned to look at you to find you blushing and mouth open to answer back, but settling on frowning.

Then your eyes traveled to his sweaty t-shirt, sticking to his chest and torso. A white tee, basically see-through at the moment, and the bloodstains on it. “Take your shirt off.”

Suna nearly knocks down the rest of his things. “What for?” Just how fast the tables turned. And the thing was you weren’t even trying to get him flustered.

“The blood. I might be able to get it off.” Then you turned around to give him privacy.

“Right.” He did as told. You reached your hand back for him to hand you the shirt, making him chuckle while doing so, and you were out of there.

A/N: Hello, dear readers! It’s been a while - a year 💀-. Happy 2024! I hope you’re all well and safe. I’m happy to see people are still enjoying and showing love to this series. And here we are with part 8! Funny, I started writing this part the day I posted part 7 and it took me this long to finish it. The extra was just added. I got a little confused with the tournaments’s stuff lol but I figured shit out (I think). Not that anything needs to be accurate but yk, helps the writing flow. Happy reading and see you next time, whenever that is! **slow updates**

#haikyū!! #haikyuu!! #hq!! #suna rintaro #inarizaki #atsumu miya #sunarin #osamu miya #anime #manga #sports manga #atsumu miya x reader #suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #kita shinsuke #aran ojiro #ojiro aran #ginjima hitoshi #ren omimi #akagi michinari #atsumu #osamu #suna #kita #gin #ginjima #akagi #omimi #aran #hq!! fanfiction

[poetickinkerer]

"Big and juicy"

At first you thought it was just some mild bloating: it could have been your time of the month, or an allergic reaction, or maybe something you ate wasn't agreeing with you (that blueberry tart perhaps?). Either way, your belt was digging into your stomach somewhat and you opted to ignore it for now and keep watching your DIY videos.

It refused to be ignored, however. Somehow, it had gotten even tighter around you. The feeling was unbearable, like your belt was going to split you in half. You put your videos on pause to finally go deal with this before it gets any worse.

Standing in front of your vanity mirror and tugging up the hem of your shirt, it was abundantly obvious what was wrong: your stomach had done more than just "bloat," it was blowing up. It was blowing up big time right in front of your eyes. Like someone had snuck a balloon into your stomach and was pumping it just out of view, you could see it inflate and push against your belt. You could hear the leather creak and strain as your midsection poured over it. It felt so unbearably tight against you. You struggled with the buckle, working feverishly to undo it before it really did split you in half, until finally unlatching it and the top button of your pants as well. The mound of stomach that had been held back launched forward like a rubber band, crashing into your vanity table. You could finally see the full scale of your growing stomach: round and taut, and the size of a volleyball. A patch of blue formed where your stomach made impact and you believed it was a bruise, or at least you did until the blue turned a deeper shade and started spreading.

Like ink in water, the blue spread across your skin, creeping up and out in all directions from your center, until it had spread to cover your whole torso and most of your forearms and thighs. With it, the bloating had spread as well, and was even speeding up. Your belly had doubled in size from where it was just a few moments ago and seemed to be taking the rest of your torso with it. Thighs and forearms had ripened into thick pool floaters. Your breasts and ass were ballooning, taking on inches by the second. Clothing, left tight and constricting by the pressure of your swelling body, began tearing and shredding, exposing you. As well, it seemed like your body wasn't just swelling, it was being filled with something; something that sloshed and burbled inside of you. Something, juicy?

The blue had spread to the rest of your body, and with it your midsection was that of an overblown beachball. The weight of your juice had sent you crashing to your floor. You tried to hoist yourself back up, but your limbs struggled to push against your swelling and increasingly spherical body. Juice continued to pour inside you, and you kept swelling, and swelling, and swelling. So taut, and full, and and tart. Excess juice started to stream out of you, leaking out of your distended breasts and enlarged pussy. The feeling of your skin stretching, the sensation of your whole self swelling and being lost to the ball you were becoming: you were so hot and bothered. If only you could reach down there and get yourself off.

Oh well, might as well enjoy the ride.

#poe’s kinks #asks #sundae anon #blueberry inflation #blueberry transformation #blueberry tf

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

Mahogany

Wood crumbled beneath my fingers, fever-hot. Time stood still, its breath fire in my lungs, batting furiously for air. 

Birds were frozen in midair, wings aflutter like the streaks of nosebleed red in the golden sky. I dug my toes into the soft earth, power thrumming in my veins. The ground rumbled with my every heartbeat, shaking the frozen world. 

The man with the gun spat bullets and saliva alike. They hung in the air, drifting with infinite slowness. When I let go, they would pierce hearts and stain the birds crimson. I did not want that.

So I moved. A step. The pressure doubled, my chest screaming, scrabbling for oxygen. Another step. I was trapped beneath the water, unable to inhale. The man was just out of reach, his minefield of steel and slobber separating us. 

A third step. Would I die here? I felt my life leak down my nose, tasted the bullets that slipped between my cracked lips. Blood dripped on the floor, from my ears, crimson tears blurring my vision. 

One step. I was almost there. The elastic band around my chest might as well have been a noose. With agonising slowness, I plucked the shells out of the air. The only blood to be spilt today was mine. I trembled, shook like a helicopter with a vital screw loose. I was going to lose it. I was not strong enough. I would gasp for breath, and the shooter would riddle me with his spittle. Floaters swam in my vision, my fingers clawing the surface until my nails came apart.

One. More. Step. I shoved his gun aside with frantic hands, eye vessels popping, streaming blood from every orifice. I met the shooter's frantic eyes, like a man on the verge of drowning. I pushed him onto the ground, and held him right.

Then I inhaled. 

Time rushed into the vacuum with a pop, like the air that suddenly filled me. Sweet, sweet air, so full of life. Air like horrified screams of bystanders, like the blossoms of my blood that bloomed on the ground, the untainted mahogany wood beneath the birds soaring into the setting sun.

#microfiction #This is probably the shortest thing I've written #drabble #writeblr #writing #my writing #creative writing #writerscommunity #writing community #spilled ink #fantasy #Just stopping a shooting with time-stopping powers #Inspired by Life is Strange #Which is a great game you should go play it

[formulawonu]

hi!! Just wanted to say that i love ur writings!! and is it okay if u do svt as highschool roles if possible? ty!

seventeen & high school

a/n: hiii thank u so much <3 i'm glad u enjoy them!! 🙈 this was so fun to think of ahahaha what do u all think who would u guys be

seungcheol: the bad guy. even he doesn’t know he ended up with the stereotype but it stuck - what can he do? is actually really nice. probably smokes at the back of school during lunch with vernon lmao

jeonghan: the smart kid that does give their notes to you. believes in the power of collaboration. tests are a stupid way to measure one’s intelligence anyway 

joshua: the nice guy. gets along with literally everyone. even the people you don’t want to mess with love him. has a million people saying hi to him when he walks through the hallways. good for him

junhui: the floater. i actually had a hard time thinking about this bec he could literally be anything and anyone he wants to be. floats around and sits in different lunch tables every other day. everyone accepts him

hoshi: the school mascot. dont get him wrong he could 100% be part of any of the school’s teams but his joy is in half-time shows performing for the crowd and hyping them up. 100% gets competitive when the other school’s mascot shows up  

wonwoo: the smart kid that does not give their notes to you. believes in the power of LEARNING by putting in the honest work. amen sir

woozi: the band geek. always bopping his head and drumming his fingers on whatever surface is in front of him (even without earphones on). people wonder what music he’s listening to in his head 

minghao: the art hoe. oh u think he’s taking notes down during class? ur funny he’s actually drawing the sunlight leaking in through the classroom windows

mingyu: The Golden Boy™️. everyone loves him. everyone has a crush on him. the principal has a crush on him. people from other schools have a crush on him. no further comments from me

seokmin: RESIDENT THEATRE KID. LITERALLY FIGHT ME ON THIS.  

seungkwan: student body president. part of multiple clubs. always running from meeting to meeting trying to put things together. ~he wants to leave a legacy~ please tell him to rest

vernon: that one quiet kid that always has headphones on and ends up getting caught for vaping. idek 😭 100% friends with cheol

dino: he’s THE class clown. and he didn’t choose to be it nor does he want to be it. but he’s naturally funny and everyone loves him. pls take him seriously actually

#svt #seventeen #svt ask #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt reaction #scoups #seungcheol #jeonghan #joshua hong #junhui #hoshi #kwon soonyoung #woozi #wonwoo #minghao #the8 #kim mingyu #seokmin #dk #boo seungkwan #vernon #dino #chwe hansol #kpop #kpopimagines #seventeen reaction #fanfic #kpop fanfic #svt fanfic

[justoneofthoseghosts]

“You flinched.” + Brettsey

This one is AU featuring firefighter Brett and doctor Casey!

Sylvie winces as she massages her shoulder. Based on her basic EMT training, she didn't think it was dislocated. She could still move it anyway without much discomfort or pain.

She sighs, leaning back against the cold, metal chair in the Med waiting room. All of 51 was there waiting for news on Otis. Poor guy had been shot in that call where Sylvie had ducked haphazardly to avoid the bullets flying around, landing on her left shoulder.

"You flinched."

She glances at Stella next to her, raising an eyebrow at her fellow firefighter.

"You flinched - just now. You should really get that shoulder checked out," she advises.

"Later - I want to know how Otis is doing first," Sylvie mumbles.

It had been an hour since he went in for surgery. She tries not to relive the whole thing. She knew growing up in Chicago was dangerous but she never expected something like that ever to happen during a call. She sends a prayer upward, hoping her friend would be okay. She and Otis had known each other since their days in the Academy. By some sheer luck, she got transferred onto truck 81 two years ago, almost the same time as Stella, and the three of them together with Joe had been thick as thieves ever since. She couldn't imagine a life without Otis.

The sliding doors open up, drawing everyone's attention. They glance as Connor Rhodes walks into view. They all stand up, walking towards the trauma surgeon.

"Otis is going to be fine," he announces, "it's going to be a long road to recovery but with rigorous physical therapy, he should be able to get back to work in a few months."

Sylvie breathes a sigh of relief as everyone around he rejoice at the good news. They were going to have to deal with a floater for a few months but Otis would be back in no time.

Stella pokes her in the shoulder.

"Ouch," she lets out unintentionally, shooting daggers at Stella.

"Time to see a doctor, Brett," Stella reminds her, "luckily we are in a hospital."

"I'll be fine," she tells Stella, brushing it off. She thinks it might just be a bruise forming. She'll ask one of the paramedics to check on it when they get back to the firehouse. Foster did still owe her for introducing her Lana, the lady that ran the mobile rig command center.

"Nope - you are coming with me."

Stella grabs her by her suspenders, walking purposefully towards the ED entrance.

"Hey!"

Stella doesn't relent. She asks Maggie, the charge nurse, if any doctors were available to check on Sylvie quickly. She explains the situation and the nurse nods, calling over a doctor Sylvie didn't recognize. He was tall, had broad shoulders, sandy blonde hair and warm, blue eyes.

Honestly, he was very handsome.

Objectively speaking of course.

"Dr. Casey, Brett here needs her shoulder checked," Maggie informs him, handing him an iPad.

He smiles at her, "sure - bay 3 free?"

"All yours."

As Stella bids Sylvie a quick goodbye, she nudges the blonde firefighter, "bet you're thanking me now, huh?"

She blushes, pushing Stella away, rolling her eyes when the other firefighter snickers in response.

Her cheeks redden even more when she realizes Dr. Casey observe the whole interaction.

"Sorry," she says, twisting her watch band absentmindedly.

He shakes his head, "nothing to be sorry about."

He leads her to a bay, asking her to take a seat on the bed as he closes the curtains.

"Can you tell me what happened?" He asks, glancing down at his iPad, pushing a few buttons before looking up once more, sending her a soft, encouraging smile.

She doesn't know what makes her spill her guts to the doctor. Somehow, he males her feel at ease immediately, a certain calmness washing over her at being in his presence. Maybe it was how he was looking at her, like he genuinely cared about what she was going to say.

Yeah, maybe it was the solemn yet attentive expression on his face.

Did she mention he was handsome? That look made him 10 times even more handsome.

Gosh. She really didn't need to thirst over the new doctor. He was just doing his job.

She recounts the whole ordeal, realizing it as the first time she was speaking it out loud since this morning. She tells him about how it was just a routine call - they were firefighters and were used to putting out fires only this time, there was a room that had guns in it that apparently were semi automatic and rigged to fire at random. She and Otis were in the room searching for victims. She managed to call a warning and duck behind the bed, causing the trouble with her shoulder, but Otis wasn't so lucky.

Unintentionally, she lets it slip how terrified she was for Otis, of potentially losing another person she loved in the line of duty, how she tried to remember what was taught at the Fire Academy about applying pressure to wounds while waiting for what felt like forever for the paramedics to show up, how she was glad that Otis would be alright.

"I'm really sorry," she tells him sheepishly, "you don't need to hear all this."

He shakes his head once more, eyes full of understanding, "don't apologize. You do need to talk about things like that. It can be heavy dealing with it alone. I get it."

She smiles softly at him. It was like she was talking to someone she had known for years. He was right too. Firefighters were often tough but Sylvie knew mental health and emotional well being should be their priorities too, especially with how hard their line of work could be - not all calls resulted in rescues. There were grim days when they became recoveries.

"Thank you, Dr. Casey," she says earnestly.

"Nah - no need to thank me."

He asks if it was okay for her to pull up her top so he could check on her shoulder more closely. She nods, thinking nothing of it until it dawns on her. She tries not to blush again because today she chose to wear the one lacy bra she had in her underwear drawer.

Hey, it was the only one left because laundry day isn't scheduled until tomorrow.

She pulls up her grey shirt carefully as the doctor slips on a pair of surgical gloves. She tries hard not to look at him. She's sure he's seen a lot of women in their undergarments.

Darn it. She didn't mean that.

She meant at the hospital, of course, while examining them - for medical purposes only.

He begins to slowly knead the portion of Sylvie's shoulder that she pointed was the place she thinks she landed on. He does it carefully, clinically like any good doctor would. Curiosity getting the better of her, she chances a glance at him, noticing how his own cheeks seem to have reddened. When their eyes meet, he averts his gaze, clearing his throat.

"Doesn't feel dislocated," he tells her lowly, "but there may be some bruising or swelling so I suggest icing it whenever you can so it'll heal faster."

"Got it," she says as she lowers her top, smoothing it out, "thanks doc."

He smiles at her, "in case you feel any pain after a week, feel free to swing by. I can check on you shoulder or write your script for some pain meds."

She nods, swinging her legs back and forth, "thank you again - not just for checking me out but for listening too."

Few people were good listeners in her option and Dr. Casey was definitely a good one, especially since she unloaded so much about the day to him.

"No worries," he states, one hand going to the back of his neck, awkwardly massaging it, like he was debating something internally.

She wonders briefly if the tiny hint of a connection she felt wasn't all in her head.

When doesn't speak, she swallows down a bit of her own disappointment.

"Right."

They stare at each other for a few seconds. She's unsure of what to do and he doesn't seem to know too.

She clears her throat, jumping off the bed, pointing towards the door, "I, uh, I should get back to everyone. Thank you again, Dr. Casey."

"Call me Matt," he blurts out before his eyes go wide, like he couldn't believe he just sad that.

She lets out a laugh, "call me Sylvie then."

He grins.

"I'll see you around, Matt," she states before turning around to leave.

She pulls back the curtain, taking a step out of the room when she hears him call out to her.

She turns back around, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Here's my card," he says, handing her a calling card, "feel free to call me if you want to schedule an appointment."

She takes the card from him, glancing at it before tucking it into her turnout pants pocket. She nods at him.

He seems to be debating something internally again.

"Or feel free to call if you need anyone to talk to - anytime."

She furrows her eyebrows at him, not quite sure what to make of it. Was he offering to be her therapist or something? It was sweet of him to offer but she already had a therapist she loved.

"Thanks," she says, "I'll keep that in mind."

He frowns, signaling for her to not walk away just yet.

"Jesus, this is coming out all wrong," he grumbles.

"What is?"

"I, uh, I was hoping to ask you out for a drink," he states before smiling shyly at her.

Her heart leaps to her throat at his words. Guess he felt it too.

She smiles, "there's a bar called Molly's. It's owned by a few firefighters from 51. I'm usually there off shift. I'll text you the address."

She sees his shoulder visibly relax, "great. I'll see you there."

He claps his hands awkwardly but it makes Sylvie laugh. She thinks about how adorable and completely dorky he was being, endearing himself further to Sylvie.

"I'll see you there," she confirms.

As she's walking back towards the rest of her house, she thinks that maybe she'll buy Stella a drink for pushing her to get checked out. Something tells her getting a date out of it with someone who seemed sweet and genuine was just the tip of the iceberg.

#brettsey #it's a meet cute and an AU #I don't usually do AUs but felt like it this time #it's fun to play with characters

[another-blog-about-miis]

Headcannons About Sam

She's a demi-girl (uses She / They pronouns).

Sam is a sensitive person and can be brought to tears easier than others.

She's a goofball.

Sam's a Daddy's girl

When she first became friends with Kyle it felt weird at first because she never really had a friend before. Shortly after, they both developed a crush for the other.

She a bit chubby.

She has Autism and Anxiety. (She chews on her sweater sleeve when stressed)

Other than the Mii thing, Sam gets bullied for her weight and for her dad being dead. Because of this she's a little insecure about her body.

In the other AU were her dad is alive, she'll try to get him to take care of himself.

She's pretty good with an axe, she kept her father's axe when he died.

Sam's favorite sport on Wii Sports is badminton.

Because of her father she like the band Floater, but shes more into bands like Mother Mother and Mystery Skulls

One of My Mii Sam Headcanons

#wii deleted you #wdy #wii deleted you sam #wdy sam #headcanon

[nctsawrus]

Nct Dream as high school stereotypes

Mark

- the bookworm

- besties with the school librarian

- fav subject is english lit

- very small group of friends

Renjun

- the straight-A student

- gets paid to do other people’s homework

- always the student to raise their hand in class

- sits at the front

Jeno

- the jock

- popular but very quiet

- known for his kindness and politeness

- the one to show new people around the school

Haechan

- the theatre kid

- big group of friends

- want (and gets) the lead in every school play

- LOUD

Jaemin

- the stoner

- never really speaks to anyone but his one friend

- hoodies everyday

- lunch is his favourite class

Chenle

- the class clown

- sits at the back

- also a band kid

- teachers secretly love him

Jisung

- the floater

- gets along with, and is liked by everyone

- popular for his dancing skills

- is the school mascot

#nct #nct dream #nct headcanon #me and mark the same fr #IM BACK

[bugglestheclown]

bug (he/it) 24

human

exploring, questioning

Likes: weed, toads (& frogs), being around people, skating, anarchy

Dislikes: the government, being alone, being stared at

Backstory: a young human couple fall in love and decide to have a baby. bug grew up in hell as a human with a human family and generally enjoyed his childhood. there isn't much it has to say about other than that life had been normal (to him). he is now employed at a fast food place & enrolled in demonic college despite not knowing what degree he plans to get. a floater, lost, but living; bug is figuring out who it is.

Special abilities: can make balloon animals.

Additional information/details: generally, a bad influence by simple neglect to dangers. high af at all times, very rarely not, if ever. a smoker. doesn't enjoy drinking. living with three other people currently but looking to move out (hopefully to dorms). really loves using face stickers. always hurt. singer in it's black flag cover band.

#artists on tumblr #illustration #oc #obey me #obey me mc #my art #bug #he/it pronouns

[my-shields-are-down]

Part 2 for @lovemesomechenford - Ashley (17 years later)

—————

Angela had wanted to buy out a local pool for the festivities, but Patrice was not having it. She had the space: the almost Olympic sized pool, the outdoor kitchen, lots of space for towels, chairs, floaters, plus she was great friends with Angela’s grandmother, who she had gotten to know over the years.

For Angela’s Abuela Maria’s 90th birthday party/family reunion only the best would do. They brought in extra tables and loungers for the families, bought all the food and beverages, gallons of sunscreen, hired a mariachi band, had a dance floor, and catered the entire event.

The only thing Patrice didn’t have were life guards on salary, so she put her assistant on it -the woman was a dynamo and could literally do anything.

Turns out Tim’s eldest son Patrick, sorry Kai (he much preferred an abbreviation of his Chinese middle name), life guarded during the summer and he put Tamara in touch with his boss.

Yes Tamara was taking a sabbatical from the FBI where she worked on missing kid cases as a profiler. Well until she met Davison and moved back to LA to get married. She loved the FBI but there were so many kids who were never found and every child who didn’t luck out like she did, broke her heart.

She met Davison on the obstacle course at Quantico. He was a former green beret who was hired to revamp the Hostage Rescue Team’s training program. Davison grew up in an itty bitty town in Minnesota and went to college in Madison, WI on an ROTC scholarship. Like Tim, he served two tours during which he quickly rose through the ranks and left the instant he could. Switching to the FBI was natural for him, he was a born leader. Strong, silent, a watcher who surveyed everything and missed nothing. Tall, blond, fit, and hilarious he fell in love with Tamara on the spot and spent two years convincing her it was her that fell in love with him first.

Tim had cried when Davison asked him for permission to propose to Tamara. Lucy’s puppy had become a Bradford shortly after Lucy did. Lucy laughed at her silly husband who grumbled when Davison left, saying “you do realize who he takes after right? She’s marrying a version of you. He looks at her the way you look at me. You big idiot. She just gave you the biggest compliment ever.”

Tamara is due to marry Davison in a few months, and yes, Tim will walk her down the aisle. In the meantime, Tamara has been helping Patrice out after she broke her hip and the two are inseparable.

When Tamara spoke to the Head Lifeguard, she didn’t realize the Ashley she was speaking with was the same one Tim had been dating when he was in denial about his feeling for Lucy. Ashley had eventually gotten married and had two older step kids who she never really gelled with. So when her husband died a few years ago, she was content to stay single and alone. She now lived in Malibu in a lovely ocean-access bungalow, the ocean her backyard. She was the Chief of Lifeguards now and ran the whole she-bang for L A County.

Tamara and Ashley made all the arrangements. As the call was closing she asked Tamara for her details so they could keep in touch, Tamara had said sure, I’m Tamara Bradford, my # is……. Ashley’s heart had stopped. Could she be related? Could Tim still be in the area? Could we reconnect and restart? Ashley wrote down the number and asked, “ Bradford? Are any of your relatives cops?” She could her the young woman smile through the phone, “Yes! I come from a family of cops. thanks for your help! Ashley couldn’t ask any more questions as Tamara had hung up.

Grabbing her iPad, she Googled Tim’s name and sees him receiving medals of distinction, getting promoted and retiring from the police force after a scary car accident while chasing a criminal through Compton.

But nothing about him getting married or having a family. Sweet. Let’s just make myself the 3rd lifeguard on this gig and see what happens.

——-

Two weeks later…..

Ashley drives through the Evers compound gate, checks in at the gatehouse, and drives through a lovey wooded area before arriving at the main house. As she gets out of her lifeguard truck to get her things, she hears kid’s laughter and a mariachi band playing. Tamara greets her at the door, and says oh thank god your here.. you have your first aid kit? We’ve had some injuries come on. Ashley goes into action mode and doesn’t really see the people around her. She works with Kai who clearly knows what he’s doing and helps clean up the blood from the pools edge.

Once they are done, Ashley turns to Kai to ask where he got his skills. Kai turns and points in a vague direction, “my mom made sure that if I was going to “surf in shark infested waters,” that I knew how to handle myself and others if a shark did attack.” Smart, Ashley thinks to herself. She takes a closer look at the young man in front of her. He’s deeply tanned, tall - over 6’, long and lean like a swimmer, but very in shape like a surfer. Once he takes off his sunglasses, Ashley’s heart skips a beat. Tim’s eyes are staring back at her. That can’t be right, the young man doesn’t look like Tim.

“KAI!” - she hears a voice yelling and she can remember when it whispered sweet nothings to her. Kai smiles at Ashley and says thanks for your help, he puts his red lifeguard shirt back on and runs off towards the voice. Ashley’s heart sinks when she sees BRADFORD across his strong back.

She follows Kai through the party, hoping to catch a glimpse of his dad. Maybe it’s not Tim. There could be other Bradfords.

From a distance she sees Tim, grayer than she remembered, but still fit, and gorgeous. He’s now got a nasty looking scar on his shoulder and down his arm. “ah, that’s why he retired.” She watches as Kai runs up to Tim and gives him a huge hug. When they separate, she watches Tim bring a young girl who’s 12ish into the conversation. The girl is gorgeous - big brown eyes, blond, shorter than Kai, but still growing. That girl is going to break some hearts for sure.

“Her name is Miren de. Chinese for lovely. We call her Mai. Miren de Diana Bradford -after Tim’s mom. Mai hasn’t decided if she prefers Mai or Diana yet. She loves it when her dad tells her stories about Diana - goddess of the countryside, hunters and the moon. She’s a romantic like he is.”

Ashley turns and sees Lucy, who’s carrying a small boy sound asleep and wrapped in a big fluffy towel with BRADFORD across in big blue letters. The boy is a mini Kai, same coloring but with shockingly blond wavy hair and green eyes. “This little guy is Timothy Shenqi Bradford. Shenqi is Chinese for magical. He goes by TJ and is a little terror. He got my gift of gab and Tim’s athleticism. Where Kai’s a surfer, TJ is a natural at both baseball and track. He’s 10, Mai is 12 going on 25, and Kai is almost 16.” Lucy lights up talking about her kids. Correction her and Tim’s kids.

“Ashley! Oh it’s so wonderful to see you! “. Lucy steps in front of Ashley and waves at Tim to come over.

Ashley finds her voice and says, “Yes, Hi. I wondered if the Bradford I saw on Kai’s back was linked to Tim. How are you and what’s going on?”

Lucy tells her that she and Tim have been married for almost 17 years. Kai was born on their 1 year anniversary. And that yes, they started dating right after she and Tim broke up. They got married about 4 months later, there was no reason to wait. Tim had been promoted to Watch Commander and then head of the TO training program and it was a total fluke he was in that car when it crashed. He’s been a stay-at-home Dad ever since and loves every second of it. For me, I’m a Deputy Chief in the Police Department. Which sounds fancy but I sit behind a desk listening to Yacht rock and I am the City Council liaison. I work closely with the mayor. I make policy. And hob nob. The best part is I get to go home at 5 pm and be with my family. I’m so blessed.”

By now, Tim has reached the pair. His eyes widen when he sees Ashley, but when he’s in front of her, he grabs her in a partial hug like he’s glad to see her. Lucy turns to him, and hands him their youngest as if they’ve done it thousands of times. He leans over and kisses her, pulls away and then kisses her again. Smiling while he says, love you to Lucy, oblivious of everyone else. Ashley realizes in that moment she’s made a mistake to come. Seeing Tim so happy with Lucy and their kids in the life he always wanted, hurts deeply because she realizes now, they were never meant to be and he let her down easy instead of leading her on into a future that just was never going to happen.

Ashley takes a step back and says she should head out. She waves goodbye and quickly walks back to her car and drives away.

Back inside the party, Patrice has the photographer take pictures of all the families for her mantle. The Bradford’s look especially joyful in theirs - just before they throw Tamara in the pool.

———-

I am not going to write one for Isabel. She’s not a solid character in my brain. So this will have to do.

#chenford #tim bradford #lucy chen #i love them #tim x lucy #the rookie #i'm in chenford withdrawal #Ashley wishes she could be this happy #chenford fanfic #is the hiatus over yet

[welpimspooky]

Any wdy characters hcs?(mostly sam pls I love her aaaaa)

Sam:

Henry / Eteled is Sam's father

Sam dies the same way as Henry / Eteled and her soul is also stuck in the Wii

Sam is a Demi girl (That means she uses She / They pronouns)

She used to hate Kyle but then they became friends, now she kinda has a crush on him but refuses to acknowledge it

Her favorite sport on Wii Sports is badminton

Kyle:

Kyle is Austins nephew

Kyle is Bisexual

Kyle has a crush on Sam and wants to tell her but is scared on how she'll react.

His favorite sport on Wii Sports is bowling

Kyle and Sam played the Half Life and Portal games together (Watched the other play or took turns)

Henrey / Eteled:

Henry's / Eteled's favorite band is floater with their favorite song from the band being The Sad Ballad of Danny Boy

Henry / Eteled is quiet and untrusting of others, but not towards his daughter and Ex-wife

Him and his Ex ended on good terms

Henry / Eteled is protective of Sam

Henry / Eteled is Aromantic, he didn't find out until after he was married and had a kid

When he got electrocuted by Austin he forgot Sam was his daughter and was so happy to see her again when he remembered Sam (He didn't forget that he had one just who his daughter was)

He like to mess with the wii's game files when he's bored

Austin / Corrupted Mii

He's was Bisexual (he lost his ability to love when he got corrupted)

He doesn't really care about Kyle, he might love him a tad because hes family but not enough to care if he got hurt or something

When he became the Corrupted Mii he lost his humanity and now is only filled with hate and anger, he only finds enjoy in harming others

Austin started hating Sam when he found out shes related to Henry and wants to harm her

He messes with the Wii's files to mess with Eleted and Sam

That's about all I can remember

#wii deleted you eteled #wii deleted you henry #wii deleted you au #wii deleted you sam #wii deleted you #wii deleted you austin #wii deleted you corrupted mii #heandcannons #answered asks