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leclerc-xo · 3 years

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There were four things Eric Dier knew for definite.

1. He’d had better Monday’s.

2. The girl sat across from him was definitely staring.

3. His school needed to invest in better vending machines.

And

4. Apparently if you punch someone in the face three times it will result in being summoned to the Principal's office no matter how much you think the guy deserved it. Go figure.

Eric grimaced as he flexed his fingers. The tendons felt tight and he could already see the purple bloom of a bruise appearing over his knuckles. He lifted his hand up forced the fingers to straighten, the pain shooting up his arm. He wriggled them, moving them one by one and he smirked slightly. Nothing broken he thought wryly. His eyes flicked up and he raised his eyebrows causing the girl who was sitting behind the desk opposite him to blush. He studied a cut on the dip between his second and third knuckle, the area around it crusted with blood. He remembered the clean connection he’d got on the guys face the first time, the sharp sting of his nose ring nicking at his skin. Totally worth it, he said to himself as he made a fist, biting the inside of his mouth as he tried to ignore the way his nerves were screaming.

“Yo dickhead.” The double doors crashed open at the other end of the room and Eric looked up to see Jan and Toby walking towards him. He flipped them the finger in response and scoffed at the tutting come from the secretary's desk. The girl who’d been staring at him had dropped her phone when they’d entered and she was failing miserably at trying not to gawk at the two of them as they passed her desk. Toby threw himself down in the chair beside him and pulled his phone from his pocket, opening it without saying anything. Jan came to a stop directly in front of Eric and kicked at his feet, crossing his arms over his chest. Eric glanced up at him, pursing his lips together and raising his eyebrows. He knew that look and he huffed, shifting in his seat. “Don’t fucking start man,” he drawled and Jan smirked, jutting his chin towards Eric’s hand.

“What was it this time? Did they insult Dele’s shoes?” Jan asked cocking his head to the side. Toby scoffed and Eric shook his head. The smug look that the stoner dude had given Dele before he’d wiped it off flashed across his mind and he leaned forwards, staring down at his hand again. He remembered throwing himself in front of Dele, grabbing his wrists and pushing him backwards. He remembered Dele trying to fight of his grip, blood pouring from a gash on the side of his mouth. Everything else was a little bit of blur until he’d heard someone shout ‘scramble’ and the assistant principal had appeared in front of him. Dele had been dragged off before he could turn around and he’d been sat waiting in the same god awful plastic chair for what felt like an age. “Seriously bro, what if you had broken your hand this time? You can’t do this every time he pisses someone off and they retaliate.” Eric hated it when Jan turned all disappointed father on him and he rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat. They’d known each other since kindergarten, had been inseparable since they had bonded over their favourite superhero and Jan was the only person in the whole school who could challenge Eric without regretting it. Still didn’t mean that he allowed it to happen too often.

“It wasn’t like that this time,” Eric answered, his voice level. He knew the girl was listening, she was basically leaning over the desk, her ear angled towards them. No doubt it was the talk of the corridors again. Eric Dier, the most popular guy in school, loses his temper and everyone needs to know why. Especially when it’s becoming a bit of a regular thing. Jan laughed. “It never is,” he said commented but held his hands up in surrender, recognising that he was never going to win this particular debate.

“All I’m saying man is that your hand better be good for Friday, I’m not putting up with shit from coach if you can’t play.”

Eric was about to tell Jan not to worry about it, that he knew full well he’d be playing but the Principal’s door swung open and he didn’t get the chance. “Mr Dier, please,” a low voice sounded and Eric rolled his eyes as Jan patted him on the shoulder. He didn’t see the point in this, the conversation he was about to have but he plastered a guilty look on his face and turned around as Jan dropped down in the seat he’d just vacated.

“I feel like I should enter you in my diary, it’s almost like clockwork,” Principal Evans commented as he pushed the door closed behind them. Eric didn’t react, just pulled on the back of the leather seat nearest him and dropped himself down. He waited as the older man walked behind his desk and seated himself, resting his elbows on the desk in front of him. He clasped his hands together and sighed, staring directly at Eric’s bruised and bloodied hand. “No broken bones?” he asked curtly and Eric shook his head, flexing his fingers. Principal Evans nodded slowly and smiled tightly. “Well good, we wouldn’t want this little outburst getting in the way of Friday now would we?” he said as he pulled open a drawer and lifted a notepad out of it. Eric really did not see the point in this little charade they put on every time this happened. He knew it was to make it look like he was being reprimanded but it was getting boring now. Silence filled the room and Eric shifted in his seat, watching as Evans picked up a pen and started to write.

“Where’s Dele?” he asked, the words coming out sharp and loud. Evans didn’t answer and Eric clenched his jaw, bouncing his leg up and down. “Sir, where’s Dele,” he repeated, his voice lower this time, a little softer around the edges. The Principal looked up at him and shook his head. “We sent him home,” he answered, waving his hand, dismissing the question. Eric looked down at his hand and pressed on bruises, the discomfort distracting him from the retort he wanted to fire across the room. Of course they’d sent him home. Why would they do anything else?

“And the other guy?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “Mr Lomax received a warning,” Evans said, rubbing his hand across the paper before ripping it off and holding it out to him. Eric snatched it off him, rage roaring in his ears. He stared at the note in his hand, the scrawled handwriting excusing him from his afternoon classes. “I suggest you spend the rest of the day looking after that hand, get some ice on it. You know how much is riding on your performance of Friday and I won’t have a little ruckus over nothing ruining it.” His voice was low and hard, a warning mixed in with the concern. Sure Eric might be the most popular guy in school, people either wanted to be him or be with him but deep down he knew he was a commodity and it was getting extremely difficult to keep biting his tongue. “Don’t you worry I’ll be there,” he said pushing his chair back a little to forcefully as he stood up. He turned to leave, the anger he’d felt earlier simmering under the surface. This was the fourth time in three months that he’d been summoned here, the fourth time he’d had to sit and listen to Evans talk about him like he was some cash cow the school depended on.

“Oh and Eric?”

“Yes sir?”

“If you see Mr Alli could you please tell him he’s treading on very thin ice. I do worry that next time, and I assume there will be a next time, we will have a broken hand to deal with and I would hate for the blame to fall on his shoulder. He seems to listen to you.”

His name is Dele. Eric bristled at the blatant dismissal of Dele’s request to drop his last name and he nodded curtly not daring to open his mouth. Evans inclined his head, turning towards his computer and Eric took that as a sign that he was free to leave. He yanked the door open and stepped outside, not bothering to acknowledge Jan and Toby as he marched towards the doors that led back to the main corridor. He heard them scramble from their chairs and catch up with him, assuming their positions either side of his shoulders. His note was screwed up in his fist and he tossed it in the nearest trash can without looking. People moved out of their for them as they always did and he stared straight ahead of him as he walked. He knew there would be talk, conclusions drawn about why he kept on getting into fights over Dele but he didn’t care. He was untouchable, the school talisman and whilst he was their main hope for securing funding and would therefore face no consequences he’d continue to challenge anyone who was stupid enough to try it. As he came to the main entrance and threw open the doors he caught a snippet of conversation.

“I don’t get what’s so special about Dele that means he gets all the protection from Dier.”

“I know right? Come swing some of that rage my way, I know a perfect way to burn off some steam.”

“Ohmygod Kelsey!”

“What? He’s hot when he’s angry.”

Jan and Toby chuckled and Eric rolled his eyes before stepping out in to the daylight He might be the most popular guy in school and enjoy all the perks that came with it but he really was getting fucking sick of the place.

#have a sneak peek of the high school AU #well when I say sneak peek #I mean all I actually wrote #my writing

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srhlsx · 4 years

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* implied nsfw at the end

master | CHAPTER 1 | chapter 2

Fiddling with the keys in one hand, you shrugged your bag higher up on your shoulders while trying not to drop the pieces of toast in your other hand. When you’d gotten to the ground floor of your apartment complex and walked out to the main road of your neighborhood, the sun beat down and warmed your face.

You breathed in the morning air with a small smile and began your walk towards the bus stop a few blocks away. At first it took some time to get used to breathing in the combination of smoke and greasy foods, compared to the fresh cool air of where you had previously lived. Over the months of living in San Juan, the smell of the area you lived in became comforting and familiar.

The bus didn’t stop directly at the arena, but instead a few blocks away, so you were able to enjoy the sun and open air a little more before entering work for the next few hours. You entered through the employee entrance, stopping in the small space designated as your office to drop off your things. After slipping out of your sandals and into the clean athletic sneakers you always kept at the arena, you grabbed your binder of player information and notes and began your way through the facility halls.

Saying hello to a few of the other team workers, you made your way into the strength and conditioning room that seemed like your second home in this city. You could hear the sound of deep voices yelling, grunting, and laughing along with the sound of numerous weight machines banging together after being used. The deep bass of the music blasted through speakers and rattled your chest as you walked through the doors, a chorus of cheers and greetings also met your ears. Some were in languages you knew, a few slipped into their own native tongues but you understood the meaning.

You greeted one of your coworkers, a middle aged man who was the lead strength and conditioning coach for the team and your direct superior. He handed you a clipboard with a small stack of papers that held player information important to your role.

You’d only been on the job for about four months at this point, but you felt that you had gotten a good hold on things. You struck gold right out of your master’s program, applying on a wing and a prayer for the job as assistant conditioning coach and head nutritionist for a professional volleyball team in Argentina. You remembered the day they had called you saying they wanted to fly you out and get started right away, having found living arrangements and everything for you already. You accepted without hesitation, packed your things, and said goodbye to your parents only a few weeks after graduation.

Now, here you were. Surrounded by a team of athletes who adored you and a professional staff who took you seriously.

Calling out to a few players, you instructed them to follow you for their own conditioning set. Being that there were more players than trainers available you and the other coach usually had them break off into smaller groups for specific needs to accomplish more in the time you had available before they needed to start their actual practice.

“(Y/n), I think you've gotten prettier since yesterday.” You rolled your eyes with a grin at the tall blonde who had spoke to you with a broken accent. He grinned back at you playfully, taking a seat at the weight machine that you motioned towards.

“Flattery will not lighten the load of work I have for you,” You swatted at him with the clipboard in your hands and told him to get going on his reps. He grunted out a reply and did as he was told, giving a joking but knowing look to his teammates as well.

“You’re not her type,” One of the other players said as he came up behind to support the weight should his teammate need assistance. “Too old.”

You had to laugh a little behind your clipboard as the weights were noisily dropped back into the resting place as he sat up quickly. “Old?” He cried out. “I’m younger than you!”

“Hey!” You called out, catching their attention right away. “Focus more on your training than my love life or I’m placing both of you on double cardio for a week.”

“You wouldn’t…” They both looked at you skeptically, their faces having matching expressions of skepticism as they waited to see if you were serious.

You glanced down at the papers in your hands and flipped through them dramatically. You clicked the pen you held and pretended to write copious notes with a flourish, making an emphasis on your finishing mark and then looking up at them.

You sent them a flat, closed lip smile. “Done.”

“Hey,” You looked up from where you had been scribbling some notes on a player’s conditioning log in your office. A few had passed by already, done with their practice for the day and peeked in to say their goodbyes as they almost always did. Your eyes fell on a welcoming sight, the tall frame of one of the younger players on the team greeted you at your door. “We still on for tonight?”

The way he spoke, like there was a secret shared only between the two of you, made you smile as you leaned back in your chair. Well, it was a secret for the most part, the organization you worked for wouldn't necessarily mind, but it wouldn’t be the best for either of your careers should something bad ever happen.

You nodded your head, “Yes, but you have to promise to not distract me, we missed two episodes last time.”

“I’ll do my best,” He flashed an award-winning, shit-eating grin in your direction, bracing his hands on either side of the doorway and leaning forward as he winked at you. You had to roll your eyes at his playfulness, biting the inside of your cheek as you eyed him with a glint in your own eyes as you thought back to when all this had even started.

“(Y/n)! Hey~”

You were still unpacking a few random items around your office, you hadn’t been expecting a space of your own when you accepted the job so setting things up was still taking time. You turned around to greet whoever was knocking at your opened door, pushing your hair over one shoulder and stretching out your back as you came up to your full height.

“Hey Tooru,” You smiled at the figure in your doorway. He stood cooly opposite you, leaning against the doorframe without a care in the world. “Sorry, uh Oikawa. What’s up?”

“Tooru is fine. Well, I was seeing what you were up to tonight?” He asked, flashing you a dazzling smile that you’d been subject to a few times from a distance since starting your job with the volleyball club about a month earlier. “Maybe dinner? It’s nice finally having someone my age around, I’ve been the kid for too long.”

You squinted your eyes at him as you crossed your arms across your chest and leaned back against your desk. “Hector from marketing is our age,” You smirked, having an inkling of an idea where he was going with things but wanting to get him to actually say it out loud. “Why don’t you ask him to hang out?”

“Because I don’t want to get dinner with Hector from marketing.” He stated bluntly, lifting an eyebrow with an expression that read ‘You know what I mean’.

And did you ever.

“You bastard,” You mumbled against the pair of lips that were pressed against your own. They moved down to your neck, biting and sucking as they traveled which caused you to let out a moan in pleasure when he finally reached that spot below your ear. “You pr-promised not to-”

Your own gasp cut off your voice as Oikawa rolled his hips against yours, pressing you more firmly into his bed. Feeling his lips form into a smirk against your skin, you pulled a hand away from tugging at his hair and swatted the back of his head, making him laugh.

“I never promised,” He said, leaning back on his knees. His hands slowly dragged up your thighs and grabbed at the pair of cotton shorts you had worn over to his place that night. Playing with the hem and tickling the skin at your hip, making you squirm, he continued to smirk down at you.

You wiggled to lift your hips so he could tug the clothing down your legs, his head bending forward to press feather light kisses to the skin of your thighs as his fingers trailed along. The feeling of his touch left goosebumps in its wake, making the breath in your lungs shudder with anticipation. Your arms lifted behind you in a much needed cat stretch, your back arching and legs unwrapping themselves from around his hips as he began to slide further down the bed. His fingers gripped at the skin of your legs, getting a firm grasp on them as he lowered his head between them and nipped a trail of small bites up and down.

You hummed in satisfaction, very much enjoying where things were going until you felt Oikawa stop his caressing and prop his chin up on your stomach right below your belly button. “Yes?” You pulled your head up, reaching down to cradle his cheek with your hand.

“I’m just not sure this is within my diet,” He joked, looking up at you with a playful expression.

“I think I can make an exception,” You stated bluntly and pushed against his face. Oikawa laughed and gave your hand a light peck on the palm before dipping lower.

Your fingers wound their way into his hair and tugged. The sound of the two of your moans filled the space of the small apartment bedroom and carried on into the rest of the night.

TAGS: @akasuns

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged!

#oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu!! x reader #hq!! x reader #hq!!#reader insert #x reader #haikyuu reader insert #oikawa

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signor-signor · 4 years

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Trending 27th - January 2020

What have been your efforts in the campaign for SaveWOY and what are your upcoming plans to save WOY? Now this is a question worth answering!

In the past, I made a little list of the things I did to support SaveWOY and bring awareness to Wander Over Yonder’s existence and its third season plans. Since then, I’ve done a whole lot more from hand-drawn art to more intricate art. Some of them are almost as special as that signed poster @peepsqueak got from the WOY crew as a token of their gratitude.

Here’s an updated list of everything I did for SaveWOY so far:

Attended the SaveWOY picnic at Griffith Park, where I got to sign a banner.

Pointed out various higher-ups involved in the business of Disney television.

Sent several letters to the higher-ups, some of which had envelopes with an image of the downed space pod taped to them.

Started a weekly Twitter post series, SaveWOY Thought of the Week.

Made Lite-Brite art of Wander and Lord Hater, which Craig McCracken and Francisco Angones liked.

Attended D23 2017 with an Operation: FORCE drawing of Hater, a colored page of Wander and Sylvia and a few facts about WOY, and an orange pen with a green hat (I got the hat from the aforementioned picnic) - there, I signed a bench with Wander and the phrase, “Never hurts to help.”

Signed my name, drew Wander (and my own character, Jacken DeBox), and wrote, “Happiest place in outer space!” on the highest beam for Star Wars: Galaxy’s Edge.

Wrote a letter (and drew Wander) for the victims of the Las Vegas tragedy with the message, “The darkest times call for the sunniest smiles!”

Got Craig to reveal the name of the ship (said to play a BIG part in S3, made a cameo in Future-Worm) when I commented that we’d have to figure out the name - his response: “The ship is called The Star Nomad.”

Wrote a couple of cards to two Disney higher-ups with the message, “A little nice makes naughty think twice!”

Drew Dominator in a situation that might take place several seconds after she passes the downed space pod, just in time for Noël Wells’s B-day.

Made the Star Nomad with LEGO Digital Designer.

Made three images in the style of the original Star Wars trilogy VHS set.

Posted 50 WOYS3PredictionPolls on Twitter.

Made an image of “The First 5 Years” with over 140 individuals (including the question marks for 3 new mains and 2 new regulars - I still want to know what they look like!) and one cleverly made Hidden Mickey.

Shared WOY-related images from my 1st 5 Years fan art on Twitter acknowledging the B-days of most of the voice actors (Charlie Adler, Kevin Michael Richardson, Ken Marino, Josh Sussman, H. Michael Croner, James Adomian, Jason Ritter, and Piotr Michael clearly noticed).

Typed a summary of how I think the S3 premiere would go.

Typed lyrics to “Let’s Go Soarin’ and Explorin’,” a song from my aforementioned S3 premiere summary. Wouldn’t it be great if Andy Bean used it?

Made a microgame with WarioWare: D.I.Y. where the player has to spin the fan to make the Star Nomad fly. Part of a chorus from “Let’s Go Soarin’ and Explorin’” included.

Started FanCharacterFriday on Twitter - more Tumblr users seem to like Dr. Otmar Vunderbar.

Made a short comic page of Lord Hater trying to break out of the DTVA vault plus a sly reminder that Disney owns the rights to WOY.

Shared a list of potential episode titles for S3.

Made an actual LEGO Star Nomad based on the model made with LDD. Hopefully, those who worked on WOY have noticed. In case you missed it, here’s a picture...

Now, the ideas I have in mind for further boosting support for the campaign. I may not be able to do most of them myself, but they are certainly for everyone’s consideration.

Provide updated information of higher-ups (if any).

As soon as we find out what Kid Cosmic looks like, expect fan art of him saying, “Watch my show and tell your friends so we’ll make that Mousey Company pay for what they did to my half-brother!”

Another SaveWOY picnic - if there’s one in my general area, you can count me in.

LP album artwork of My Fair Hatey.

A mural identical to that of Super Smash Bros. Ultimate consisting of not just characters from WOY, but also characters who were said to debut in S3 and characters who’d fit in perfectly, namely some of my OCs.

Pumpkin stencils of the main characters for Halloween.

Drawings of various WOY characters stuck on the ex-secret planet explaining why they need to leave said planet. Maybe I could also show how the galaxy’s villains would react if they learn that Lord Dominator’s been bested by Lord Hater.

Drawings consisting of SaveWOY-related messages spoken by the main characters from Disney shows that got at least three seasons (e.g. DuckTales, Fish Hooks), tons of love from the viewers and the executives (e.g. Gravity Falls), or both (e.g. SvtFoE, Mickey Mouse ‘13).

Example with Phineas and Ferb:

Phineas: “We may be creative and famous, but we’re not the ones who came up with the Star Nomad. It’s the ship powered by orbbles! Orbbles! I’d LOVE to see it take flight, wouldn’t you? If you let Mr. McCracken end the show his way, and not the executive way, which, truth be told, is the absolute worst, Wander will surely be elated!”

Ferb: “The Orbble Transporter was invented by conjoined twin brothers, voiced by the performers of the theme song.”

Irving (peeking in from the side): “Speaking of voices, the titular main character sounds JUST LIKE ME! How could you possibly resist?! And look, just because I’m the biggest fan of these guys (gesturing to P&F) doesn’t mean I have no interest in what’s planned for the furry orange fella!”

Since I’m a full-time Disneyland cast member, I should be able to make contacts with anyone who might have more clues about what S3 would entail. It might be a long shot, but if I’m able to convince Disney that WOY’s influence on my life boosted my chance at gaining employment at the company, they should understand.

A weekly Jeopardy-type pop quiz on Twitter - here’s the catch: you must refrain from finding information online when you read the answer (I bet you that the most hardcore fans of the most popular shows will get most of the questions wrong).

Example: This arachnomorph got his name from a dog tag he swallowed when he infiltrated a fish-shaped ship. He later became Lord Hater’s beloved pet.

-Who is Captain Tim?

Summaries of S3 episodes I made up myself a while back.

More fan-made characters - my most recent is an elected official of Cluckon, Mayor Spye C. Drumstick.

Conjuring a logo that best fits the status of S3/TV movie - Wander Over Yonder: The New Galaxy (the center would have the silhouette of the Star Nomad with Wander and Sylvia on it).

Brainstorming possible ideas for the three new main characters.

If all else fails, I suggest we make a web comic based on the hints we accumulated back in 2016 and what we learned from the cameo in Future-Worm’s finale. Team Sea3on has been taking that approach for SatAM Sonic the Hedgehog S3, though they are also making an animated version.

That’s about all I’ve got so far. In closing, I have several questions to ask as the new decade kicks off.

Disney executives: Are you even listening to us WOY fans? What more do you want? I’ve done so much for the campaign that I feel I’m entitled to know everything that was planned for WOY’s third and final season, especially now that I’m working full-time for your company. If you tell us what your demands are, we’d be happy to oblige.

@crackmccraigen: Are you aware of how hard the fans and I have been trying to talk Disney into giving you the chance for true closure? We’ll make sure we watch KC when it comes out on Netflix. If we’re lucky, we might see WOY get added to Disney+, where it should get that closure, assuming you’ll have finished KC your way before then.

@suspendersofdisbelief: I know you’re super busy with DuckTales and you love the plans for WOY S3 so much that you can’t bear to reveal it all in one post, but it’s been waaaay too long since we got any hints from you. Are there any other WOY S3-related facts you could describe in much greater detail? The campaign could do with more motivation.

Non-WOY fans: Are you convinced? Need I remind you what’s in the end tag of the “last” episode of WOY? You know there’s much more to life than tales from the land of Ooo, a blue middle school cat boy in a world of unusual individuals, adolescent twins in an Oregon town filled with oddities, a half-gem half-human protagonist, a coming-of-age princess of Mewni, a trio of ursine trend-followers in San Francisco, and all that jazz. If you’re not one bit interested in Hater’s origin story and all that was planned for S3, it’s your loss.

Pessimists: Will you please dispense with this unnerving “Wander is dead” talk? As a certain Popeye would say, “That’s all I can stands, I can’t stands no more!” You’re not trying to let the Disney bosses win, are you? You probably used to think previously canceled shows like Hey Arnold!, Samurai Jack, and Young Justice could never be brought back. The point is, all is not lost.

@peepsqueak and WOY fans/SaveWOY supporters: Have I been of assistance? Almost every remark I’ve ever made shows wit and perception. I mean, just think. Wander is still stuck in that vault where his goal of reforming Lord Hater remains incomplete, and he has no idea of what threat awaits him. He says, “Glorn, help us.” It’ll take something big and extraordinary to convince every Disney fan (and perhaps every Netflix fan) to talk some sense into the higher-ups. Not to mention the replacement/back-up voice actors we’ll have to find if Disney takes even longer (we already lost one - René Auberjonois). We shan’t rest until we get the answers!

@disneyanimation

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lady-divine-writes · 4 years

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Truth in Advertising - Part 2

Summary:

As it turns out, that Orgasm blush wasn't an innocent inclusion into the box of stuff Gabriel sent to Aziraphale to evaluate. Anticipating what the Principality might do, and how that might end up, Gabriel waits patiently for any good news ... (1059 words)

Read on AO3.

“Any minute now … any minute now …” Gabriel chants while he paces, clasping and unclasping his hands, gazing periodically out the window of the high rise onto the world below. His eye pierce the building veil of clouds, hoping that any second he’ll hear the good word.

The word he’s been waiting to hear for most of his career as an Archangel.

Of course, aside from his personal vendettas … uh … goals … there’s a great many things he has to oversee today. The general balance of good and evil on Earth, for one, takes precedence over everything. Of course, it does. That’s the big picture overall – deploying angels for the sole purpose of tipping the scales in Heaven’s favor.

Absolutely.

But this takes a close second. So close, the two are nearly stacked one on top of the other.

Every time a Segway zooms by or an angel walks down the hall, Gabriel finds himself jumping like a meerkat on an electric fence. Anxiety, anticipation, excitement – these are not emotions he’s used to carrying and yet there they are in the wringing of his hands, his rolling onto the balls of his feet, and his constant glancing out the windows as if the news will be delivered to him via golden chariot pulled across the sky by four flying white horses.

It’s just that good!

But that’s not what happens, and because it doesn’t happen, Gabriel feels the pricking of soul-crushing defeat before Michael, approaching with a brilliantly white sheet of parchment in their hands, speaks a single word. Michael doesn’t offer Gabriel the letter right off, but he can see the writing on it – that obnoxiously bubbly yet illegibly academic handwriting of Aziraphale’s.

Ugh – disappointment.

Ugh – doubt.

Ugh – rage!

He hates suffering these human-style indignities! They’re so beneath him!

What an inconvenience. He’d rather just win and get it over with.

“Did it work, did it work?” Gabriel asks, still hopeful that that gold ink on white paper marks the last progress report written by Principality Aziraphale before he plummeted into fire and darkness. A resignation, or better yet - an apology. Nothing too formal or flowery, of course. Simple, honest, and to the point suits him best. Something along the lines of:

Dearest, most renowned, and holiest Archangel Gabriel;

Before this, my final missive, I’ve taken a moment to reflect on my wicked past, my foolish decisions, my incompetence as an angel, and I humbly plead for your forgiveness. I know now that you were right, have always been right in all things, and that I, a lowly principality, should have listened more reverently. Followed more diligently. Alas, too late have I seen the error of my ways. And with this, my last message to you, I pray you will know that as I take my place in Hell beside the bastard demon who lead me there (Oh why was I so stupid!?) that I will do naught but sing your praises during my eternal torment in my attempts to repent.

Good bye.

Try to think fondly of me, as I have always greatly esteemed you.

Your loyal servant,

Principality Aziraphale

Stained with tears would be a nice touch, Gabriel thinks as he pictures himself framing the letter and hanging it on the wall in his office, in a spot where every angel who enters would be sure to see it … and think better of disobeying him.

Whether that’s what this letter is or it isn’t, the smile twisting the corner of Michael’s mouth gives him no clue one way or the other. What could it mean? Amusement? Satisfaction? Success? Gabriel can’t read it and that drives him bonkers!

“Tell me it worked!”

Michael stops in front of him, fiddling with the letter in their hands – a letter Gabriel’s eyes have locked on and refuse to move from.

A letter he’s about to tear from Michael’s hands like a lion rips out the throat of a gazelle.

“Did he fall?” Gabriel begs in exasperation. “Just … just say that he fell!”

“Not … quite,” Michael says, relinquishing the letter.

“Not quite?” Gabriel growls. “What do you mean not quite?”

“See for yourself.”

Gabriel grumbles in annoyance that Michael won’t just tell him. He knows Michael has read it. Michael, of all angels, is a bit of a gossip – even if they ferret out information simply to keep it to themselves. They’re about as sneaky an angel as Gabriel, and he respects that. He respects Michael. Admires them even.

But he’s about to shove them down the escalator for toying with his emotions.

Gabriel reads through the letter, his face drawing and pinching at the same time, making him look like an underinflated basketball bouncing once on the sidewalk, then stopping with a pathetic thunk.

“Well … shit!” he spits. “Shit shit shit!”

Dear Archangel Gabriel;

After a long and rigorous examination of the blush you so graciously sent for my perusal, I am sorry to inform you that the color Orgasm does not quite live up to its claim. However, your challenge intrigued me so that I’ve taken the liberty to evaluate all products and recipes that claim to be ‘better than sex’. Out of six hundred and eighty three contenders (and counting!) I’ve discovered only five that come close, but none of them quite hit the mark. And believe me, some of them I tried twice!

But worry not, and trust that the search continues!

Thank you very much for the opportunity to evaluate these items and the validity of their claims. If you have any others, please send them down as soon as possible!!

Or, you know, whenever you get the chance.

Sincerely,

Principality Aziraphale

Below Aziraphale’s signature, a black scorch mark passing itself off as letters reads – Anthony J Crowley, demon (and assistant).

Gabriel crumples the paper in his hands, the image of him framing it and hanging it on his wall in triumph replaced by the now smug faces of Aziraphale and Crowley wrapped in post-coital bliss as that insufferable angel penned this letter, fully prepared to launch into another marathon of sin the second he snapped his fingers and sent it on its way.

And to make matters worse, he can’t shake the feeling that, from somewhere above him, the Almighty is watching … and snickering at him.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #frankie writes

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syncopatedid · 5 years

Note

Since the novel ended on Kakeru's 4th year what if you continued it? what would write about future lives of our kansei boys?

*whispers* thank you for this ask! ヽ(＊>∇

I know this ended up being the tsunami wall of text that absolutely nobody asked for, but my feelings for the Aotake squad go really deep and I doubt I will ever get a Kazetsuyo ask as indulgent as this one again. It’ll make me very happy if someone enjoys all my headcanons (and then some).

Akihiro cleaned himself up and graduated properly by the following spring (he bowed out of the ekiden on his fourth year to concentrate on his finals). After graduation, he pursued a career at a non-profit organization as a software developer engineer. At the reunion timeline, Version 2.0 of his tracking software* has just been slated for an international release. Akihiro became an active member of Namban Rengo (Tokyo’s International Running Club), and continues to participate in various running activities across the country with like-minded fellows.

*I didn’t mention this in my Q&A, but in the novel, Nico actually came up with a running simulator software program (with Yuki’s assistance), that was supposedly able to track, compare and calculate each runner’s speed and final positions in the race. It didn’t work very well though, because it was running so slowly that the rest thought it’s just faster to calculate with pen and paper, lol!

Yohei was still out of work for a good six months after graduation, so he accepted a sales job at a Television network when it opened up. While it’s not his dream job, he did find that he was good at it so he stuck with it (he could keep a conversation going, and was good at making pitches to achieve a sale). Working at a TV station also has its perks, as it brought him closer to the variety shows that he enjoys watching. At the reunion timeline, he’s already at a senior rank where he gets to train new recruits. He still has difficulty connecting with people on an intimate level*, but recently, a new starry-eyed junior who just joined his team has showed interest in his favourite show, and his enthusiasm reminds Yohei of someone he knew back at Aotake…

*Yohei explained his thoughts a lot clearer to me in the novel than in the anime. Yohei sees the ekiden as also fulfilling his dream - to feel that intimate connection with others he never got in real life. And yes, even with the Aotake members, he has always felt left out until they started running together, and he admits that because of his pride and timidity, he’s not very likely to change, and he may never feel this closeness to others again when the ekiden ends (hence a dream he did not want to wake up from). But I wish for good things to happen to him, I really do. Don’t give up, Yohei!

Yukihiko reconciled with his family shortly after the ekiden (he called his mother after the race was over to talk), and by the time graduation rolled around, he had already secured a job as an intern at a respectable law firm located in Roppongi, and was confirmed as a graduate associate within a year. At the reunion timeline, he is still ambitiously working his way up the corporate ranks to make partner (which he aims to succeed within six years or less).

Yuki never moved back in with his step family and still prefers to live on his own (a guy needs his own space to invite dates home, so he says), but now he contacts his mother regularly, and dutifully visits his step family every New Year’s Day. He is also fairly over-protective of his step-sister (whom all her potential suitors get rigidly screened by him).

Takashi took over as captain of the Kansei U track and field team after Haiji left, and participated in the next ekiden running in the same section, where he ranked 6th. After graduation, he returned back to Yamagata to manage the family business, but still travelled regularly between Yamagata and Tokyo to visit his friends (he’s the one who diligently keeps in touch with everyone from Aotake). At the reunion timeline, his family has recently expanded into the sake export business, and Takashi is in talks with some of his dad’s partners to set up a business branch in Tokyo.

This year, instead of Musa coming to visit his hometown, it’ll be his turn visiting Musa’s family in Tanzania.

Musa stayed on in the Kansei U track and field team, and took part in the ekiden on his third and fourth year (he ran in Section 2 and Section 9 respectively, averaging 5th position for both). Since his first trip to Yamagata, he’s been visiting Shindo’s family back in his hometown every year, and has learnt to ski! At the reunion timeline, Musa is pursuing another year of studies at Kansei U. He then went and studied some more, and eventually obtained his PhD. He also became very fluent in Japanese*, and a position as adjunct professor in Kansei U happened to open up, which he applied for and got accepted.

He served as club advisor to the Kansei U Track and Field team after Mr. Tazaki retired, and remains as the oldest member of Aotake who is still affiliated with Kansei U.

*More as an additional headcanon than footnote, but I’ve always pegged Musa as being bi- or trilingual when he arrived at Aotake - being fluent in English, Swahili and a third dialect (since he’s from Africa), just that none of those were useful when he was in Japan!

Akane never participated in future ekiden races again, but remained in the Kansei U track and field team as a perfunctory member (so he could stay in Aotake till he graduated). He continued to dabble in all things manga for the rest of his uni years, but always made time to help out at the ekiden, mostly as Kakeru’s assistant in his section since he already has experience with it.

At the reunion timeline, he’s working as a Junior editor at the manga department of one of the top four publishing houses in Japan, where he handles shojo manga titles (he’s extremely popular among his female colleagues). Despite his constant complaints of tight deadlines and pressuring working conditions, he continues to remain in that industry, and in a couple of years he gets promoted to editor-in-chief and takes over managing the sports manga section.

Jojiro found his affinity with running after his first ekiden experience, and opted to stay on with the track and field team to continue to pursue running seriously. He took over as vice-captain after Kakeru was promoted, and can be credited for pulling in a record number of members that year. After graduation, he was recruited into a prestigious corporation along with his brother and joined their Running Club, and meets Kakeru and Haiji’s team regularly as friendly rivals in the races held in the Kanto region. Although he has yet to best Kakeru’s time in the races, there is one thing he did win over Kakeru, and that’s being the first to confess to Hana-chan after graduation. He also goes on to be the first among his same-age peers to get married, and Kakeru was his second best man together with his brother Jota.

Jotaro left the Kansei U track and field team* in his second year (with Kakeru and Joji’s blessings) and went back to his first love, soccer. He joined the Kansei U Football Club and earned his spot as a regular, and even got to play in the Kanto league. Since their “separation”, the Jo brothers were closer than ever, and they discovered something interesting that came out of them doing different things – that they’ve had even more successes pranking juniors in their clubs, most of whom had no idea they came as a set! After graduation, he joins his brother Joji in the same corporation, but doing work in a different department (and the pranking continues, lol). The brothers and Kakeru remain very close friends.

*My headcanon of Jota obviously diverts from anime canon where they’re both still in track and field, but I’ve always had a stronger impression that Jota never planned to stay on in running after the ekiden, from what I had interpreted from his thoughts about his brother, as well as his conversation with Yohei before the run. Also, in the novel’s epilogue, a junior from the Kansei track and field team had only mentioned about “Joji-senpai”, but not Jota. While it doesn’t prove anything, it really does make me wonder if perhaps it was because Jota had chosen to move on from running. I never believe it’s a sad thing for them to divert on different paths though, because siblings are like that and their bond is strong.

YOU’D THINK I SHOULD BE DONE BUT WAIT I HAVE MORE.

BONUS BITTERSWEET HEADCANONS!!!

Kakeru had been visiting Haiji in hospital daily after class since his operation, but by autumn, Haiji announced he was moving back to his hometown to recuperate, and his contact with Haiji naturally became less frequent. (Kakeru wondered if Haiji was deliberately avoiding him but he never asked. Knowing Haiji’s character, he’s not going to be honest about it anyway. Also, Kakeru was not good with texting or calling, a weakness he suspects Haiji knew and used it to put some distance between them). Kakeru felt hurt that there was nothing more he could do for Haiji, but chose to respect his decision for some space.

In response, Kakeru ran in Haiji’s section (Section 10) in the next ekiden, besting his own time from Section 9 and breaking records that were previously set. He believed that Haiji would not be able to resist watching the ekiden (because he knew Haiji’s weakness too), and that was his answer. His efforts to reach out finally paid off (Haiji sent him a very long text message scolding him for a minor flub he did in his run… but also “congratulations”.) Kakeru would continue to run in Section 10 for the remaining two ekidens, and on his final year, Haiji appeared out of the blue again, this time in person to recruit him into his running team.

Kakeru took over as vice-captain of the Kansei U track and field team from the second year, and later as captain after Shindo graduated. Since he’s been on the team, Kansei U has never failed to earn a seed in the ekiden for subsequent years, a legacy that would carry on long after Kakeru’s graduation.

Haiji had to be rushed to surgery after the ekiden, and as expected, his injury had been aggravated and the damage was severe. A knee replacement surgery had to be done, and the year would prove to be a painful time for Haiji, who had to re-learn to walk all over again. In autumn that same year, he decided to move back to his hometown, citing family reasons (in truth, it was also because Kakeru wouldn’t stop visiting him in hospital, and it really was harder to be around Kakeru at this point in time than his family, so he picked the lesser of two evils).

Haiji would spend the next few months coming to terms with his situation while thinking about where to go from there. There were days where his mind wandered a bit too dangerously far, but his determination not to go back down that same path before manages to pull him back. Between his physiotherapy sessions, Haiji would often stop by his alama mater and watch his dad at work, lost in his own thoughts. And when he saw Kakeru running in the ekiden on TV again, his heart began to stir, as if a gust of wind had lifted his spirit and was pushing him towards the answer he was looking for.

He had found his second wind.

Haiji talked his father into letting him go back to school…. this time to pursue a sports degree (while their father-son relationship remained fairly complicated, the dad was more receptive to Haiji’s request since it’s to do with running, and Haiji was smart enough to leverage on his dad’s knowledge and connections to his advantage). His dad managed to pull a few strings and got Haiji enrolled into Rikudo (!!!) for a post graduate course, and Haiji moved back to Tokyo and threw himself into studying while nursing himself back to health. At the reunion timeline, he is armed with a sports coaching master’s degree, and has joined a relatively new corporation that hired him to set up a new running team. And Haiji knows exactly who he plans to recruit as soon as that person graduates.

Thank you for reading all the way and may your day be filled with wonderful thoughts!

#Kaze ga tsuyoku fuiteiru #kazetsuyo #Run with the wind #kaze novel things #Haiji Kiyose #Kakeru Kurahara #akihiro hirata #Yukihiko Iwakura #Yohei Sagaguchi #Takashi Sugiyama #Akane Kashiwazaki #Musa Kamara #Jojiro Kizuki #jotaro kizuki #All my best memories come back clearly to me #Some can even make me cry just like before #*Yesterday Once More plays softly in the background*#Whoever you are anon thank you from the bottom of my fandom heart <3 #SyncoID

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celticnoise · 4 years

Link

DAVIE HAY was in the vanguard as Celtic attempted to halt the 10-in-a-row attempt from Walter Smith’s outfit from across the city.

It was imperative the Hoops imposed themselves again as the best team in the country – and they turned their attention to a Dutchman in their hour of need.

It was a massive challenge for Wim Jansen as he set about putting together a jigsaw of tried and trusted players with an influx of new signings.

Here, in another CQN EXCLUSIVE extract from Davie Hay’s outspoken autobiography, ‘The Quiet Assassin’, co-authored by Alex Gordon, the Celtic legend takes us behind the scenes of a momentous season.

WIM JANSEN had joined the club in July 1997 and Murdo MacLeod, who had been dismissed as manager of Partick Thistle the previous season, came in shortly afterwards as his assistant.

It was around this time that I realised Wim could be good for the club. He was a bit of an unknown and his job prior to joining Celtic was in Japan with Hiroshima. The fans waited to see how the club would react to being turned upside down. Wim and I were busy in the summer as the team went through a massive shake-up. July was a bit hectic on the transfer front.

Striker Darren Jackson arrived from Hibs for £1.5million, Scottish international midfielder Craig Burley cost £2.5million from Chelsea, French left-back Stephane Mahe joined from Rennes for £500,000 and goalkeeper Jonathan Gould was a £200,000 snip from Bradford City. Henrik Larsson, of course, was already in place.

All eyes were on the kick-off against Hibs at Easter Road on 3 August 1997 for the opening day of the league season and, hopefully, the beginning of a glorious new era for the club. Wim sent out this team: Gordon Marshall; Tommy Boyd, Malky Mackay, Alan Stubbs and Tosh McKinlay; Jackie McNamara, Simon Donnelly, Craig Burley and Andreas Thom; Darren Jackson and Tommy Johnson. Henrik Larsson was on the substitutes’ bench, but he would play a major role in the outcome of the game.

It was deadlocked at 1-1 when Wim introduced Henrik to the expectant Celtic fans. The Swede set up the winner with an inch-perfect pass, but, alas, the ball went straight to my former St.Mirren player Chic Charnley. Everyone knew Chic had a sweet left foot and he didn’t hesitate to use it as he ran onto the loose ball and first-timed a ferocious 20-yarder low past Marshall. That was the winning goal. It wasn’t quite the start we were looking for from Henrik or from Celtic, for that matter.

How would Wim react? He immediately displayed a ruthless streak and axed keeper Marshall and he never played again for the club. Jonathan Gould got the nod and he made his debut in front of over 45,000 fans at Celtic Park the following week. Wim showed great reassurance in Henrik and played him in the No.7 shirt that afternoon. Unfortunately, the result was identical to the previous week with the Fifers going home with the points.

IT TAKES TWO…manager Wim Jansen and club owner Fergus McCann on the day of the Dutchman’s arrival.

A rather unkind headline emerged in a newspaper that had a former player stating Wim had been the worst thing to hit Hiroshima since the Atomic Bomb. No-one was laughing, especially our manager who would not be sidetracked from the task at hand. His determination was more than commendable. You only get one chance to make a first impression and two successive defeats didn’t please the Celtic support.

Thankfully, there were signs of things to come the following week when Henrik scored his first goal for the club in a 2-0 victory over St.Johnstone in Perth. As usual, the Swede did things in style with a flying header that almost ripped a hole in the net. Darren Jackson got his first goal, too, and we were on the board. The signings continued with Danish international centre-back Marc Rieper arriving in a £1.8million deal from West Ham in September. He made his debut only days afterwards in a close-fought 3-2 triumph over Motherwell at Fir Park where Craig Burley claimed two, his first league goals for the club.

It was early days, but it looked as though Wim’s jigsaw puzzle was coming together. He was still looking for a bit of extra quality in the middle of the park and that was provided by Paul Lambert when he joined for £1.75million from Bundesliga outfit Borussia Dortmund in November. He had helped the Germans win the Champions League the previous season, beating Juventus 3-1, and he was a first class acquisition. Again, like Mo Johnston all those years before him, he didn’t take a lot of persuading to put pen to paper.

Following the home defeat from Dunfermline in the second game of the campaign, Celtic had racked up eight successive victories. That came to a halt at Ibrox on on 8 November when Paul Lambert made his Celtic debut as a substitute. The team played well, but couldn’t convert their chances and were undone by a Richard Gough goal. A crowd of 47,464 turned out for the following game at Parkhead against Motherwell and were as baffled as anyone as the Fir Park side emerged with a 2-0 victory. That wasn’t in the script. Four days later 49,427 were in attendance in the east end of Glasgow to see a late header from Alan Stubbs give Celtic a 1-1 draw with Rangers. That was to turn out to be an extremely vital point at the end of the day.

Three games and no wins. Were the cracks beginning to show? How would Wim cope with the strain? I used to have a cup of tea with Wim in his office most mornings and I have to say I was hugely impressed by his single-minded attitude. He was utterly convinced that things would come together. We had to keep our focus. The fans were certainly showing their support for the Dutchman. Next up at Parkhead were Dundee United and 48,200 rolled in for the third consecutive home game. A total of 145,091 had turned out over that period. The supporters were backing the revolution. Henrik hit two against the Tannadice men to take his league tally to double figures. He was emerging as a formidable frontman with the happy knack of putting the ball in the opposition’s net.

That was down to a change in his role by Wim. He could see he would be more effective inside and his days of playing on the wing were over.

That was demonstrated once again the following Sunday, 30 November, when the Swede was on target again as Celtic lifted the League Cip – then under the guise of Coca-Cola Cup – by defeating Dundee United for the second successive game. This time it was 3-0 at Ibrox and Marc Rieper and Craig Burley were the other goalscorers while a crowd of 49,035 watched the enthralling action. It was the first time the club had won this trophy in fifteen long years.

READ ALL ABOUT IT…Davie Hay and his co-author Alex Gordon.

It was a bit of a breakthrough for Wim because, after only three months in charge, he had given the supporters some tangible success. He put out this team: Jonathan Gould; Tommy Boyd, Marc Rieper, Alan Stubbs and Stephane Mahe; Jackie McNamara, Craig Burley, Morten Wieghorst and Regi Blinker; Andreas Thom and Henrik Larsson. Enrico Annoni, bought from Roma by Tommy Burns the previous season, Simon Donnelly and Paul Lambert came on as second-half substitutes with McNamara, Thom and Blinker making way. Wim was doing his best to keep everyone involved. Exciting – and dramatic – months were ahead. They were certainly dramatic for me!

Around this time I was told of a Norwegian striker who was making a bit of a name for himself, Harald Brattbakk. He played for Rosenborg and I decided to have a look at him. I had seen footage of him playing against Real Madrid in a Champions League match and I was impressed. However, it is always good to check out the players in the flesh. Agents were unlikely to provide you with a video of their clients skying the ball over the bar from two yards, were they? All the good bits were on tape and the rest were left on the cutting room floor.

So, off I went to see Harald in action for myself. I detected he liked to come in from the left and hit right foot shots at goal. He got a lot of goals in this manner and I reckoned he could provide an x-factor at Celtic. He was something different, not a big hitman who would put himself about. He was actually quite slight and, off the pitch, wearing his spectacles, he looked like an accountant. I decided he was worth a chance and the club prepared to shell out £2million for him to become the eighth player signed by the club that season. Ironically, I lost my job a week or so before the signing was complete.

The fans continued to follow in their thousands and Brattbakk admitted he ‘was blown away’ by the atmosphere when he made his first appearance as a substitute in front of 49,806 fans in the 1-0 win over Hearts on 13 December. Craig Burley, beginning to strike a nice partnership with Paul Lambert in the middle of the park, was the goalscorer.

The fact that Burley and Lambert were beginning to be a perfect foil for each other was emphasised three games later when they both scored the important goals that saw Rangers defeated 2-0 at Parkhead, the first time we had won the New Year fixture in ten years.

Craig got the opener with a neat angled shot low past the stranded Andy Goram and Lambert’s second effort was Goal of the Century material. Goram pulled off a magnificent save from a rasping Darren Jackson drive, but the ball was worked back to the inrushing Lambert who connected perfectly from about twenty-five yards and his unstoppable first-timer raged high into the net.

There was now a genuine belief about the place that Celtic could win their first league title in a decade. What a difference to the glum, dismal outlook at the start of the campaign when the first two games were lost to Hibs and Dunfermline.

It was just a pity I would not be around at the end to participate in the championship celebrations.

WATCH THIS SPACE! CQN will be bringing you some more exciting revelations from Hoops icon Davie Hay in the forthcoming weeks. Don’t miss them!

https://ift.tt/2Ull4TL

#CelticNoise #Celtic #CelticFC #CelticQuickNews

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kiliinstinct · 5 years

Text

Like a Trojan: Prt 2

Small funny Fairy Tail One-Shot. Modern AU. Pairing: Nalu, Gajevy Rated: T for .. questionable shopping items.

The Little bit of Humor I wanted to get out of my head is getting a little bit expanded. But this time, around- I’m making it interactive! This is part two of the little funny I wrote, but for my next part- I want YOU lovely readers to help me decide what comes next!

If you reblog- please put in the tags, or send me an ask/im the form below. Based on what is submitted will decide what happens next in Prt 3! Sound fun? I hope so!

So, to help be a part of this stories’ fate- just tell me these following things:

Character Perspective: (1st chapter was in Natsu’s and the second in Levy’s- who’s next?)

Event: Describe an idea that you think should happen in this chapter. I.e. Lucy and natsu’s first phone conversation? Natsu runs into Lucy at HER work? Come up with your own!

Yes Or No, should Natsu: and Lucy interact next chapter?:

If answered yes, how?

Other: (if you have any other ideas/requests for this story that wasn’t mentioned above- put here)

There is only one rule for this: No tragic/heavy angst ideas. This story is meant to be a comedy!

Part 1 | Part 3

“The Grocery store? You went and dragged me here?” The voice was agitated, laced with a sense of incredulity and disappointment. “This ain’t what I was expecting when you said you needed my assistance, Shrimp.”

Levy Mcgarden, local known ‘shrimp’ and bookworm, certainly wasn’t having it. Not with that attitude. Eyes scanning her list of items to grab, the blue-haired woman shuffled through her bag for a pen, ready to tick off any item she acquired and swiftly began her trek through the store with cart in both her hands. Her companion, a much taller man with metal studs covering his face, followed with exaggerated stomps in his steps. He may ACT as if he didn’t want to be there, but oh, she knew better. She could ask her boyfriend to take her to an Ice Rink wearing a pink hat and mittens and he’d do it; grumbling all the way. “The sparkling water I need is always on a high shelf, can you get the raspberry flavor for me?”

“Why would I- “ Gajeel, grunting his agitation while a thick arm moved to do just as asked, lifted a studded brow and stared at her. Was she ignoring his first question? “Whatever, you owe me for this, shortie.”

“Quit calling me names and I’ll buy you a treat!~” Was her answer, fingers tapping a rhythm on the handle as she thanked him. Always eager to help no matter what was said. It was one of the many reasons she enjoyed her time with him. Gajeel’s actions had always spoke louder than his words, after all. Winking, she continued to push her cart along to find the rest of her list. “And no, I don’t mean whatever you’re perverted mind was thinking of- I’m meaning a snack!”

“Hey! I wasn’t thinkin’ a damn thing!” He barked, sounding offended despite the telltale marks of red crossing his cheeks. Levy sighed, grinning at her tiny win as she crossed a box of tea leaves off her list. “Uh huh-” Levy monotoned, ticking a few more items off, “Then what WERE you thinking when I called you to come meet me at my apartment, hmm? You certainly looked WAY too disappointed by the sight of Lucy answering my door to be expecting anything else you pervert.”

“Oh please, I just thought you dyed your hair and suddenly grew a foot, easy mistake.”

“Ah!” A pause, the cart squealing to a stop as Levy grit her teeth and turned to face the man. Did he seriously just- she couldn’t believe she’d allowed herself to walk into that. Just when she felt she was getting the upper hand too! “Supid, stupid, Gajeel- are you trying to say I magically got HAIR Extensions too?!”

“Stranger things have happened.” The smug smirk was enough to make her stomp her foot in consternation. How dare he! Fixing him with a stern stare, Levy’s ire only grew when he chuckled, clearly not intimidated.

“You’re impossible.” She grumbled, returning her attention to her grocery list. Focus, focus- they didn’t need to cause a scene with his brand of flirting right in the middle of the aisle, did they? A squeak of surprise erupted from her when Gajeel’s arm suddenly wrapped around her slender waist, pulling her against his back as he hunched over her.

The smaller woman couldn’t deny how the sudden action had made her heart jump into her throat and cheeks flame as bright as a traffic light. Especially when his annoying laughter lowered a few octaves and rumbled against the shell of her ear.

“Gihee- I might be, but maybe I can show ya’ JUST how impossible I really am once I get your ass home-” A suggestive squeeze along her hip and a nip to her ear put Levy immediately into a mode that certainly wasn’t made for public spaces. Swallowing thickly, she wriggled herself from his arms and lightly tapped his stomach with her elbow.

“Gajeel! Not in public, you jerk!” She hissed, putting space between them. The roar of his laughter called forth many a stare and Levy was certain her body had warmed up to producing steam. “B-besides, -” She managed while pulling her crumbled nerves back together again, “Lucy’s staying the night: we can’t.”

The dark-haired man’s laughter died off, jaw dropping as he stared, “What?! Then what was th’point in bringing me along if you were having one of yer damned girly nights?!”

“Maybe I wanted to spend some time with you, stupid!” “Oh.” His face reverted right back to its earlier bluster and Levy took a mental moment to celebrate. That’s right, big guy- you can make your pervy innuendos all you want, but the moment I say something sweet, you’re PUTTY in my hands so EAT IT.

Obviously, he couldn’t read her mind, but he definitely got the point when she smirked imperiously and began her trek back through the aisles again. Some onlookers might think they were arguing, but the banter was all part of their dynamic. She had fun with it. So did he. It was just how they worked. Though, the offsetting silence that followed only made the both of them all too aware of the elevator type music echoing through the small store.

How do the cashiers not fall asleep here? She wondered to herself, not for the first time. Levy had been coming to this corner store for years, ever since she had moved in the apartment complex a few blocks down. It was nearby and hardly ever packed by other customers. Absolutely perfect for when she needed to just get in and get out with her groceries.

Although, the last time she needed items, her best friend Lucy had gone to get them instead. Quite the questionable material, in fact- and the moment her blonde friend had returned, cheeks bright red and chest heaving from a lack of air, the blonde had quickly informed Levy that she would never, ever, go out and buy a thing for her ever again.

‘Oh, come on Lu, it wasn’t THAT bad was it?’ She had asked- accepting her bag of items with ease. It wasn’t as if she had asked for the condoms for a fun romp with Gajeel, after all- (No seriously, it hadn’t been!) They were needed for a prank, a PRANK! … .If said prank so happened to be against the very man she often slept with anyway, well- that was merely coincidence.

‘It wasn’t bad, it was HORRIBLE. You can’t make me go there ever again, Levy!’ And still, not three weeks later, the smaller girl hadn’t learned the true story of what happened that day. Save a few, small details.

“So, why’s blondie over at your place again anyway?” Ah, casual conversation- a great way to break through those pesky silences. Levy mentally decided to buy him his favorite cookies for that. (Then again, she already had those on the list.) Shrugging, she ticked the last of her items and began the process of weaving her way back to the front of the store.

“She’s convinced the police will be knocking on her door any day now.” She replied, nose crunching together as she thought it over. “I keep telling her she’s fine, but she gets oddly paranoid about those things.”

Gajeel’s confusion was clear- as well as completely understood. “Ya’ wanna provide context for that, shortie?”

A huff and a glare was sent his way, only to be met by a smirk and Levy threw a hand into the air to wave his question off. “Something about stealing some woman’s groceries and a stolen twenty? I don’t know, she got all flustered and embarrassed and didn’t give me all the details.”

“Huh, never thought she’d have it in her to steal something…”

She paused, brows scrunching together before her gaze slid back towards her boyfriend, “You’re still at the academy, no threatening to arrest her.”

“Pfft, don’t take my fun away.” It looked like an entirely new banter was about to start, with Levy lifting a finger to prod it into Gajeel’s arm, frowning in mock consternation, but no further words could escape her mouth. Stepping out towards the registers seemed the equivalent to a gate opening and letting forth a whirlwind the two of them had not been expecting.

That whirlwind being in the form of a pink-haired Cashier, fists slamming down his ‘register closed’ sign as he practically leaped over the bagging area and stomped his way straight towards them; the employee apron slipped off in a smooth motion, quickly being flung over his shoulder like an old, forgotten towel. Levy took an instinctive step back as his intensely focused eyes drilled into hers and barely noticed her boyfriend tense up and immediately move on the defensive.

“Hey, pal, the hell do ya you’re doing-” the cashier ignored him, pointing towards Levy with wide eyes.

“You’re Levy, right?! Blue hair, talking about stolen groceries and a twenty?!” Brown eyes widened and the stunned woman stared, unsure of how to respond. How did he- how did he know her name?!

“Don’t you ignore me, twerp- back off from my girl!” Muscles bulged as Gajeel moved to step between them- eyes narrowed and voice turning into a dangerous growl. One that meant business, but the boy merely leaned his head over to keep his eyes trained on her with a stubborn curiosity that matched her own when she found a book she adored.

“Are you or are ya’ not the chick who sent a blonde here a coupl’a weeks ago to buy her TROJANS?!”

The whirlwind suddenly turned into a loud echo that left every person in the store turning to look back at the trio and Levy felt her entire body grow still while all her blood focused on her face. Traffic lights paled in comparison. Gajeel, just as stunned, turned his head to look back at her and raised a brow.

“He talkin’ about those condom balloons you filled with glitter all over my apartment?” He asked numbly.

Levy Mcgarden had a realization in that very moment. “W-wait a moment- you can’t just, erm- eh?!”

Lucy was right! I’m never coming here AGAIN!

#Like a Trojan #Nalu Fanfiction #Fairy Tail Fanfiction #Mira's Fanfiction #Gajevy #Nalu #surprise!#i'm making more to this little thing #was going to try working on flame's desire #but after the mental blocks i've been having #i decided to work on the comedic one first #to help me out #anyway #i wanted to try something a little different with this #so i hope people participate in the event above and send me their ideas!

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tkmedia · 3 years

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Paul Pogba and PSG are the perfect match. Pog-bye…

Thanks for your mails over the weekend. Come them coming to [email protected]… The Pogba debate A collective shrub is right. Paul Pogba came, he dazzled, he faltered, he will go. Meh is right. I wish it wasn’t so but it is looking like it will be so. Blaming United or their fans is silly. He has been given more chances than anybody, more system changes to accommodate him, more attention than anybody. Still he can never consistently done it. I would agree that our team has never fully had all of the tools to make him fully shine. But just after Mourinho’s departure we got to see 4 goals and 4 assists in his first five games. Never before had we seen this form and never again would we. Did Ole decide not to play the way that gets this form? Nope. Did something change for Pogba in order for him to slow down? More likely, because within 2 years we were desperate for Bruno and some impetus from midfield. For me that was the deal breaker. He showed the world what he can do in the right head space and yet that was that. Never again. I would consider him the ultimate luxury player who is perfect for PSG. He has the amazing long passes and the occasional dribble from midfield as well as the potential to score goals. But as you rightfully pointed out, he is a liability. Defensively and in terms of possession. If his hearts not in it, then our entire team suffers. He will go there and for sure make the reels with Neymar, Mbappe and co, and hopefully with Gini and Veratti, as well as 3 world class defenders, can give him the protection his liabilities will no doubt cause. If you can’t be the first pick out of McFred and Bruno, and somebody is offering 45m, snatch their hands off and away you go. I will miss his passing and the five things good you mentioned but not much else. Hopefully his leaving becomes like Trumps ban on Twitter. Where has all this new news space come from?! Au Revoir, Ciao, Goodbye! Calvino (Pogba, Pabgo!) F365 Says: Man Utd won’t change Pogba now – let him go …Pogba was exceptional for Juventus Pogba is exceptional for France Pogba will be exceptional for PSG (if and when he leaves) The problem, my dear friend, is Man Utd Tunji, Lagos Good luck, Varane Man Utd fans should rejoice at the news of Varane transfer. Varane is a solid center back with real pace and ball playing ability. He might not be an intricate passer from the deep, but is one who uses both feet very well, very good in the air and a great attitude to go with them. He will have a bigger impact than Maguire and might actually make Fred a better DM. He will allow United to play high up and make counter pressing a good attacking option for them. I’ve enjoyed watching Ramos and Varane together for the last few years and I’ll be sad to see him go. But he leaves with good wishes, without any ill feeling. Sure, he might have a mistake or two in him, like the ones he committed vs City in CL, but they are far and few between. Real fan in California F365 Features: Every £20m+ signing ever made by a Premier League club Unfathomable Romero I loved him for all he did and for his time there, but my world Sergio Romero is a player I don’t get. He has been recently linked with Chelsea and Juve, to no doubt be there No.2’s. How has a man spent an entire career as a number 2. Especially given the fact he is pretty handy. He did make it to number one for Argentina which makes it even more bemusing. Calvino Kane will go I have no idea but I do have a feeling that the Kane saga was probably already decided and is good to go. The reason it is not yet done is because of Harry’s status at Tottenham and Levy wanting to save face. It will go through near the end and both teams will be worse off for it. Calvino (Just a thought)

Dortmund’s approach Have to say Ved got it spot on re Dortmund. I’ve been wondering about the same for the past few years and he nails it. I saw a comment under the previous Mailbox where Greg said, Well you can’t question Dortmund’s lack of ambition because of their average league position yadda yadda yadda. However, that completely misses the point. We’re talking about a club that has so many talents and have been oh so close to the title the past 10 years (When Bayern, admittedly, slipped up during those times) and yet failed to capitalize on it and win the title even once? I just don’t understand the majority who shrug saying “Ah well, it’s just Bayern and they’re unstoppable innit”. Surely the whole point of a league is to have competition and the fans should be well within their right to expect Dortmund to have seriously challenged for the title and possibly won it at least once since Klopp left? But hey, how dare we suggest fans and clubs have ambition eh! Sid (Bangalore, India) Postcard from Athlone Just wanted to give a special mention this morning to what may have been one of the greatest cup ties ever with one of the greatest goals ever scored last Friday night. FAI Cup 1st Round, Premier Division Waterford versus First Division Athlone Town. 2-0 up, favourites Waterford have a man sent off in the 68th minute. Back come Athlone Town with 3 goals in 13 minutes to lead 3-2 in the 88th minute. Waterford get a last gasp equaliser in the 91st minute to send the tie to extra time. Both managers are subsequently sent off. Enough drama? Nope. In the 122nd minute, 10-man Waterford grab a “winner” with what should be the last kick of the match. 3-4. Game over? Nope. With no time on the clock, Athlone’s ex-Liverpool striker, 21 year old Glen McAuley, shoots directly from the restart from inside his own half. You guessed it. Straight into the top corner. From his own half. 123rd minute and last kick. 4-4 and to pens, where Waterford win 4-2. It was McAuley’s hat-trick goal. And it was his first game for Athlone Town having signed only hours before kick off. A Puskas award contender, especially given the context of the game. So the lad scored a hat-trick on his debut, one of the goals of the decade, scored his pen in the shootout, got the MOTM award…and still ended up on the losing side! Luckily it was all captured on camera. It’s well worth looking up. This must to go in the “Things we loved” section. I’ll put the links here for The Ed. The commentator’s live reaction to the goal in the second link is especially brilliant… OH MY GOD! 🤯 Absolutely incredible goal by Glen McAuley to score his hat trick and equalise for Athlone Town, the game goes to penalties! 😱@AthloneTownAFC 4-4 @WaterfordFCie Sign up 📺 | https://t.co/vfkMjbvRwA#LOITV | #LOI pic.twitter.com/p4lSjUewI6 — SSE Airtricity League (@SSEAirtricityLg) July 23, 2021 OH MY GOD 🤯@irishfantv summed up how everyone was feeling @AthloneTownAFC Stadium last night! A truly magical #FAICup tie 🏆#LOITV pic.twitter.com/5H1c6o56tk — SSE Airtricity League (@SSEAirtricityLg) July 24, 2021 Jonny Read the full article

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sinkingorswimming · 6 years

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I was tagged by @maydei!! Thanks, Luc! <3

rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 favourite works you’ve created this year (fics, art, edits, etc!) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you’ve brought into the world in 2k17. tag as many writers/artists/etc as you want (fan or original!) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works <3

1. ‘Cause I’m a Taker, ‘Cause I’m a Giver, It’s Only Nature | canon compliant relationship detail filler, R18, dom!Yuuri/sub!Victor in later chapters, 13/20

Yuuri isn’t sure what he expected when he decided to make his request, but it’s not this.

Victor stares at him with an oddly blank expression, the light that normally fills his blue eyes somehow non-existent. His mouth is kind-of twisted, not quite a grimace but definitely not a smile. “What?” he finally asks.

Yuuri’s cheeks go aflame. Surely, this should have resulted in an immediate yes. Surely, he’s not that...not special. “I asked you to have sex with me.”

Victor’s expression doesn’t change. “I thought it was an auditory hallucination.”

Yuuri makes a noise, lifting up his glasses and shoving his palm into one of his eyes. “Why are you making this so difficult? It’s a yes or no question.”

His glasses fall to the bridge of his nose where they belong, and Victor comes into focus. He clears his throat a few times. “I admit, I don’t follow the rationale.”

Yuuri sighs. “Because every time I watch the video of my “Eros” skate, it still feels like something’s not quite there. And how can it be when I...you know.”

It’s subtle, but Victor’s demeanor changes, like his jaw locks. “Oh. You want to sleep with me for your skating.”

“Well,” Yuuri begins, because that does make it sound like he’s using Victor. That’s not okay, and he would never. “You’re also really handsome?” he tries.

2. My Boy Builds Coffins | Goth!Victor/Mortician!Yuuri AU, R18, 5/12

To kill time, he checks his nails for any chips or signs of impending breakage. Nope, still perfect. The color is called Wicked---it’s by Essie, and it’s a burgundy almost as black as Yuri’s soul. It goes well with the dark gray silk dress shirt he wears with the sleeves rolled up and the black skinny jeans he has on.

He may have (mostly) taken himself out of the Goth clubs, but the Goth clubs haven’t taken themselves out of him.

The bar gets a bit more crowded, and a man in his mid-twenties stands next to Victor in a modestly cut (but not bargain bin) black suit with a white dress shirt and a black and gray patterned tie. His hair is messy in a way that looks effortless, and it matches the color of the suit. He also wears a pair of blue half-rimmed glasses and his eyes are so…wow, they’re warm, soothing, and spicy all at once, like the clove cigarettes Victor has to have a buddy hook him up with when he travels to Vancouver on business.

Victor loves the view. He knows if he takes a pic it’ll last longer, but this man…wow. He bites his bottom lip a little and tilts his head in appreciation.

The man notices and gives him a glance. Then he stares. His cheeks turn the same shade as the strawberries that float on top of Victor’s preferred beverage. He clears his throat and looks back at the baristas.

“Hi,” Victor tries with a winning smile. “Come here often?”

3. will lose my desire for you (never my love) | FMA fusion AU, Major Character Death, Canon Typical Violence, 1/2

The sickness is hard when he isn’t around, but Yuuri always hates being coddled. As much as Yuuri believes himself to be weak, he is so, so strong, and Victor spends their years together in awe of this boy-turned-into-a-man with such a will.

He doesn’t---will never---understand what he or Yuuri did to deserve this.

It spreads to his legs and lungs and even his head, this bright eyed star that fades into a gaping singularity in Victor’s heart. He still laughs, oh how he still laughs and smiles, and he feels so small in Victor’s arms, and Makkachin will not leave his side for even an instant.

Chris comes often these days, both to help Yuuri have a semblance of normalcy and to prop Victor up because he knows if he falls down he may not stand again.

They wake Yuuri up for what they ends up being his final injection, and Victor rests his head over his heart, the blue jacket with its brass buttons and medals hanging off the back of a chair by the window.

”Victor," Yuuri begins, and Chris inhales, saying some excuse Victor doesn’t hear as he leaves. “Victor...I wrote you something.”

Victor swallows. He knows---he knows immediately from the way Yuuri’s voice fades, the light darkening in his eyes. Makkachin knows too as he shifts further up the bed from Yuuri’s feet to lie as much as he can on his chest without restricting his breathing.

”It’s in the nightstand,” Yuuri continues. “It’s a thank-you note.”

4. that the music’s fine like sparkling wine (go and have your fun) | Teen, complete

Yuuri looks at the card a second time. He picks up a ballpoint pen and checks yes. He hesitates at the box for the plus one while worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “I’d just take Phichit if he hadn’t gotten his own invite.”

Yuuri doesn’t have a date, Victor realizes. He sits differently, more outwardly casual. The robe slips to show off more of his shoulder. Part of him registers Yuuri did not offer Victor as his first choice, but that doesn’t mean he may not be one at all. “If you attend a wedding, I won’t have anything else to do. It’d be silly for me to come back here with no one to coach. I'd be willing to go.”

Victor puts minimal longing into the words. He keeps his expression neutral, though he wants to just outright ask. The thought of them together on a tropical island, holding hands during the vows, Yuuri in a beautiful suit like the last GPF in Sochi as he whisked him across the dance floor—

Yuuri looks at Victor with his eyebrows knit together and his glasses falling to the tip of his nose. “Well, you’re right. That makes sense, I guess, more so than going with a stranger.”

Not what Victor hoped for as a response, not even a little. “Yes, no need to force smalltalk.”

Yuuri’s smile sparkles like Altair, and Victor’s disappointment vanishes into the ether.

5. Don’t You Know That’s the Way Love Comes? | Parks and Recreation AU, Teen, 4/?

“Celestino Cialdini,” the man says as he gives Georgi a brisk handshake. “I’m one of the auditors sent from the state. This is my assistant, Katsuki Yuuri.”

The shorter man smiles and nods.

Yuri glares at him. “We can’t have two Yuris. I refuse.”

“Yuri,” Georgi shushes him.

Yuuri Katsuki gives Yuri Plisetsky a look that’s a combination of perplexed and intimidated. “You can call me Auditor Yuuri to avoid confusion,” he offers with a polite smile.

Yuri is unappeased, his jaw clenched with visible irritation.

Yakov steps out of his office. “Ah, Celestino,” he says. They shake hands.

“Always nice to see you, Yakov,” Celestino replies. “Have you met Katsuki Yuuri?”

Yuri makes an aggrieved noise. Everyone else ignores him, including the other Yuuri.

“I’ve heard the name,” Yakov says. He shakes hands with Yuuri. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Yuuri says with a bow.

Celestino’s smile lights up the room. “We’re just introducing ourselves to every department, saying hello, that kind of thing. And I want you all to understand that Yuuri and I---we’re not the bad guys. We’re here to review how the town operates and see where we can trim the fat.”

Yuuri’s expression, oddly, doesn’t match Celestino’s words, but no one seems to realize it. His face is much more serious than his boss’s bright grin. He glances around the room. “Wait, are we missing people?”

“Yes,” MJ says. “The Deputy Director and his Assistant are at the zoo marrying penguins.”

Yuuri’s expression becomes disturbed, his skin going pale.

“Oh,” MJ says. “No, they’re marrying the penguins to each other. They’re not marrying the penguins themselves.”

I tag: @katsukiyuuristrophyhusband, @lemonyoi, @phoenixrei, @iwritevictuuri, @ceiphiedknight, @alexwspark, @katyaton and anyone else who wants to! (Be kind to yourselves, you deserve it!)

#tag games #dommi's fic #shameless self promotion #get it y'all

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mitchbeck · 4 years

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BRYANT: HAT TRICKS HAT TRICK LEADS HAT TRICKS TO VICTORY

BY: Casey Bryant, Danbury Hat Tricks DANBURY, CT - In his first game since signing with the team earlier in the week, Nick DiNicola made a huge splash with three goals to lead the Danbury Hat Tricks to a 6-4 victory over the Delaware Thunder before 1,040 at the Danbury Ice Arena on Friday night. The win was the Hat Tricks' sixth win in a row. DiNicola, a Wolcott, CT native, was named the game's first star as he registered the first hat trick in team history. "It wasn't pretty, but good teams find a way to win," Hat Tricks head coach Billy McCreary commented after the game. "We kinda eased into the lineup tonight but he gave us a lot of energy. He possesses the puck, he makes plays, and he got better as the game went along." The Hat Tricks built a 2-0 lead in the early goings of the first period. Cory Anderson opened the scoring just 2:22 taking a feed from Carter Shinkaruk and beating Thunder netminder, Morgan Hudson. Just over six minutes later, Phil Bronner found the back of the net as well with assists coming from Shinkaruk and Thomas Freeman. Just over a minute later, Eli Kinsman cut the lead in half for the Thunder when he buried a wrist shot past the blocker of Hat Tricks goaltender, Tom McGuckin. Just 21 seconds later the Hat Tricks responded. Matyas Kasek snuck a turnaround shot past Hudson to restore a two-goal lead for the home team. Delaware refused to quit and cut into the deficit again with 5:24 remaining in the period. Anton Kalinin took a feed from Evgenii Demin and fired a slapshot that deflected off a Danbury stick and changed direction on McGurkin and found the back of the net. Anderson took an interference penalty just 1:31 into the second period, giving Delaware a power play that they would capitalize on to even the score. With power play time winding down, Taylor Cutting took a Ryan Marker pass and sent a shot that got past McGurkin at 3:22 and the score was tied at 3. But DiNicola, starting in his first game with the Hat Tricks went to work and would restore the Danbury lead. DiNicola took a saucer pass from Gordy Bonnel and took off on a breakaway and buried his first goal as a Hat Trick at 11:26. With both sides trading high-danger chances, Marker would get on the score sheet for a second time with his 14th goal of the season, 6:14 into the third period. After spending two minutes in the penalty box with Cutting on matching roughing calls, DiNicola went to work. At 14:20, Charlie Pens, Jr went to the box for the Thunder on an Elbowing call. He was joined in the box 1:38 later when Kieran Devine joined him on a Tripping call, giving the Hat Tricks 22 seconds of 5-on-3 power-play time. Jonny Ruiz sent a backdoor pass to DiNicola who banged home his second of the game on the power play at 16:09 to reestablish a Hat Tricks lead at 5-4. With 2:02 left in regulation, DiNicola again found himself the recipient of a cross-crease pass from Ruiz, banged the puck into the net and mailed down the win. McGuckin stopped 29 shots in the win. Shinkaruk registered three assists, with two of them being the primary helper earning him the game's Second Star. Marker, with a goal and an assist, was named Third Star for the Thunder. Danbury rides their six-game winning streak into the rematch tomorrow night at Danbury Arena against the Thunder. Tickets can be purchased by clicking here. Read the full article

#DanburyIceArena #HeadCoach #Howlings #ThirdPeriod

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theseaeaglelives · 5 years

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Round 24

THE SEA EAGLE

MAKING RUGBY LEAGUE GREAT AGAIN!!!

Round 24 Manly Sea Eagles 6 Defeated by Filthy Wrestling Rorting Cheating Melbourne Storm 36

Having banned himself from attending games during the ill-feted Trent Barrett era, the Sea Eagle made his first trip to Brookvale Oval in a long time to take in this fixture. One of the last times that the Sea Eagle attended a game at Brookvale Oval, expectations were high, the weather was wet and the home team delivered a less than inspired performance going down to the despised Eels, despite being 6/1 favourites, effectively ending their hopes of playing finals in 2016 and resulting in the demise of Geoff Tooveys coaching career. Three years later, it was a case of déjà vu, with expectations high, miserable weather and an insipid performance against the Filthy Wrestlers, (where the Storm were decidedly favourites) which has effectively ended any chance of a Top 4 finish and any meaningful involvement in the September action. Despite the conditions, a large crowd braved the wet weather to cheer on their side at Brookvale Oval, however initial signs were ominous when Brad Parker was a late inclusion into the starting line-up at the expense of Brendon Elliott. Always quick to the uptake, the Craig Bellamy coached Filthy Cheaters were able to exploit this late inclusion and repeatedly targeted Parker for much of the game and basically ran roughshod down the left-side of the Brookvale Oval based teams’ defence where poor old Brad was positioned.

Things did not improve for the Brookvale Oval based team, when Josh “the Fox” Addo-Carr crossed for the Filthy Rorters after 6 minutes. As bad as that was, it was nothing compared to what transpired in the 10th minute when Tommy Trbojevic was assisted from the field in a distressed state, not to return. It has since been reported that Turbo Tom has a ruptured peck muscle which rule him out for the remainder of the season and with it effectively end any hope that the Brookvale Oval based team had of a serious September finals challenge.

With Tommy Turbo gone, the reshuffled Brookvale Oval based team’s backline struggled to contain their Filthy Wrestling counterparts and young Parker will be having nightmares about The Fox, Will Chambers and Justin Olam (3 tries) for years to come. With a mountain of possession, field position and surprising ball control in the wet conditions the Filthy Cheaters quickly ran out to an 18-0 lead and things were not looking at all good for the Brookvale Oval based team. Somehow against the run of play the home side hit back just before half-time and at 18-6 at the break there was still a glimmer of hope for the drenched fans. Unfortunately, the Brookvale Oval based team failed to get hot in the second half and were wrestled to a standstill by the Filthy Storm. The Brookvale Oval based team did themselves no favours with sloppy ball control further highlighting their poor credentials in the wet, a problem that has been identified by the Sea Eagle in previous editions of this report.

Even when the Filthy Cheaters were reduced to 12 men following the sin-binning of Wrestling Will Chambers, the Brookvale Oval based team was unable to capitalise. Quite the opposite in fact, and despite being a man down the Filthy Rorters ran in two more tries running out 36-6 winners. This will be the last scheduled home and away to be staged at Brookvale Oval in season 2019. As a consequence of the magnitude of this loss, there are now two possible outcomes in terms of who the Brookvale Oval based team will face in week 1 of the finals. Outcome 1 – if they beat the despised Eels or lose by 11 pts or less, they will face the perennial whipping boys, and team based in the Shire, the Sharks (or the Wests Tigers) with a high possibility that the game will be held at Brookvale Oval. Outcome 2 – if they lose to the despised Eels by more than 11 pts they will face the Bronco’s. Given the recent predisposition of management to take home games against the Bronco’s to Brisbane, the Sea Eagle fears that this game may be held at Lang Park. The Sea Eagle is not offering any prizes for guessing which of the above outcomes is most desirable. Notwithstanding, without Tommy Turbo the Brookvale Oval based team will be up against it no matter who they end up playing. And, even if they somehow manage to win in week 1 of the finals, they cannot realistically hope to go much deeper into the contest. That said, no criticism should be placed on super Coach Des Hasler around any of this. The fact he has got the Brookvale Oval based team into the 8 and with a guaranteed 5th or 6th placing, with the same squad that Trent Barret came 2nd last, in 2018, only proves what we already knew. That is, Des Hasler is the messiah for the Brookvale Oval based team and Trent Barret should never have been allowed through the front gates and/or should have been made to pay to enter. The Brookvale Oval based team need to use this year’s finals series as a stepping stone to brighter things in 2020 and beyond, and allow this inexperienced squad to gain some much-needed semi-final experience. Sure, they should try to make the GF and win it, after all, that is the point of the competition. But in 2019, no criticism should be placed on the Brookvale Oval based squad as long as they do their best (even if they fail to deliver).

MANLY SEA EAGLES BAN BROOKVALE OVAL NAME FOR LOTTOLAND

Manly chairman Scott Penn has apparently banned all players and staff from referring to the club’s home ground as Brookvale Oval — demanding it be called Lottoland.

Mr Penn’s stipulation means Saturday afternoon’s Battle of Brookvale mark II against Melbourne will now, at least from Manly’s perspective, be known as the Battle of Lottoland.

It is understood that an official letter penned by Mr Penn to all staff which was then forwarded to every player. While not wanting to cast aside Brookvale Oval’s rich history, Mr Penn has called on all staff and players to call the club’s home ground Lottoland.

Mr Penn apparently wrote: “On the back of this great news for the club, it is an opportune time to provide this friendly reminder to all staff and players regarding the importance of each and every one of us always referring to our home ground as LOTTOLAND and not ‘Brookvale Oval’, ‘Brookie’ and anything else other than LOTTOLAND, which is the official name of the venue. I perfectly understand our historical ties to the name ‘Brookie’ and have been prone to the occasional slip up myself, however LOTTOLAND pay a significant fee for the exclusive naming rights to the venue and deserve recognition as a loyal sponsor of the club.

“The fee they pay goes directly into the day-to-day running of the organisation including, but not limited to, everything from salaries through to equipment and running of home games, etc.

“As representatives of the club, it is our job to drive the rights and benefits of our partners from within, hence why it’s so important that we are driving the conversation, particularly with the media and our members and fans.

“If we’re calling our home ground anything other than LOTTOLAND in the media, then our members and our fans will too.

“We are still passionate about our heritage and history at the ground; however, we need to do the right thing by our partners at LOTTOLAND and keep them front and centre.”

Sea Eagle Comment: The timing of this announcement by Mr Penn could be no less opportune, that being in the lead-up to the anniversary of one of Manly’s finest moments, the demolition of the Filthy Wrestlers in the aptly named Battle of Brookvale (or Brookvale Brawl) in 2011. Fans will recall that this was the night that Manly drew a line in the sand, screamed “no mas”, standing up to the Storm and their filthy wrestling cheating tactics.

The ensuing melee has gone down in folklore, and Glenn Stewart will be forever be remembered as the man who took a stand, was sent off, suspended for 4 weeks but returned to win the Clive Churchill medal in leading Manly to premiership glory. Let’s face it, the Battle of Lottoland hardly fires up the imagination with the same degree of grandeur and majesty and the name will be long forgotten when the next Corporate sponsor comes along with a few more bucks for the naming rights. Add to this Brookvale Oval, notwithstanding its traditional significance has also been known (apart from the Barrett era) as Fortress Brookvale or simply Fortress Brookie and has been in the main (apart from the Barrett era) a graveyard for visiting teams. There is no such thing as Fortress Lottoland, as evidenced by the Filthy Wrestlers demolition of Manly in this round. It is understood that Lottoland pay around $500K for the naming rights, but surely a winning team at a fortress will deliver greater returns for Manly and its owners. The only consolation in this entire debacle, is that the naming rights holder of the venue is not 1300 Smiles ….. or

Without in any way denigrating the decision to garner the sponsorship of Lottoland in what must be a tight environment, after all Manly management were just doing their best, and noting as one must, that what Mr Penn as club owner has said about supporting sponsors is 100% spot on, nevertheless, the words “lottoland” and a rugby league home ground do not sit well in terms of interpretation.

It requires one to imagine, perhaps only momentarily, but nonetheless still for a split second, that the outcome may be less than predictable or not even a realistically guessable possibility. The phrase “it’s a lottery” come to mind. That the NRL allowed this in the first place (given their so called integrity of the game line around betting and the like), is the real issue here. Someone at rugby league/NRL headquarters clearly could see no problem in allowing the implication that a rugby league ground might have lottery like outcomes.

The NRL integrity unit needs to undertake a deep probe as to who made this decision and said probe should result in the culprit being the recipient of a fist sized prostate massage (perhaps delivered by Kens at Kensington) for their involvement in the decision.

MAD MONDAY

With Mad Monday fast approaching, and the natural reluctance of most venues to house a large number of NRL players on a club sanctioned bender for a whole afternoon and then some, the Sea Eagle thankfully notes this recent piece from the Fairfax press:

Beyond belief': Sydney restaurant under fire for serving 86 drinks to group of five By Ben Weir SMH

A Korean restaurant in Sydney's CBD is facing disciplinary action after it allegedly served five diners 86 shots of alcohol during a six-hour birthday celebration.

Police allege the group of diners at the Haru Fusion Soju Lounge were served 86 standard drinks of soju, a clear Korean liquor that has an alcohol content of between 16 to 53 per cent, in October last year.

After leaving the venue one female member of the group was found outside the restaurant next to a pool of vomit, while another was found lying unconscious on the road.

The NSW Independent Liquor & Gaming Authority alleges CCTV footage shows a female staff member of the Castlereagh Street venue walking past a patron passed out at a table. Other footage shows a woman being carried out of the restaurant. The authority has imposed a strike on the licensee Chris Chang under the NSW Government's three strikes disciplinary scheme, the authority's chair Philip Crawford said.

"It is almost beyond belief that venue staff could serve such a large amount of alcohol to a group of five patrons and not take any steps to avoid extreme intoxication," Mr Crawford said in a statement.

"The authority will consider imposing a range of special conditions on the venue’s liquor licence, as well as winding back the venue’s trading hours."

Sea Eagle Comment: This behaviour by the regulator is the sort of nanny state hand holding that is making being a true blue Aussie a thing of the past. This Korean restaurant should be commended for its efforts. And frankly, the Sea Eagle thinks they should be on a special NRL Mad Monday list of fit for purpose venues.

The only special condition this joint needs is that it is authorised to house NRL Mad Monday functions and a mandatory requirement that there be a maroon neon sign stating “enter at own risk, NRL player function inside”.

THE SEA EAGLE

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iswearonmarcuskane · 7 years

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Kickin’ & Screamin’ // Chapter 15

Title: Kickin’ & Screamin’ Fandom: The 100 Pairing: Kabby Tag/Warnings: Modern AU Setting, Kicking and Screaming AU, Kid!Delinquents Chapter(s): 15/22 Read earlier chapters on: AO3

Chapter Summary: Marcus does a no-no aka the Tornado has struck

PS – Kaha rise !!!!!!!!

Chapter 15: Silence is argument carried out by other means

Abby was stressing over three things.

1. She just got out of an emergency trauma surgery that lasted five hours.

2. Their game against the Reapers that they needed to win was in an hour.

3. Her Snickers bar just got caught in the rack in the vending machine.

Was it considered bad morale if she took a shot of vodka during work? God knows she needed it.

Giving one last defeated kick at the vending machine, she sighed loudly and let her head thump against the glass. She glared down at the Snickers bar and whispered to it, “You’re more annoying than Marcus.”

That was a hard standard to beat at the moment. Right now, ever since that practice on Tuesday, he had been number one on her shit list.

He had basically confirmed Cage’s accusations of him thinking less of her and her coaching abilities. Just the thought of it and him made her angry. She kicked the vending machine again, more forceful than she meant.

The Snickers bar slowly fell forward and got loose from his hook, falling to the bottom slot.

Abby threw her hands up in the air, a grin spreading across her face. Only if she could kick Marcus and make him comply too.

Happily, she took her Snickers bar and made her way back to her office. It had been an hour since the surgery and she had just finished finalizing up notes and talking with the family. She was grabbing a quick snack before heading out to the game.

She ripped the wrapper open quickly, feeling her stomach rumble in anticipation and victory. She took a huge bite of it as she heard someone call for her. “Dr. Griffin?”

She turned around, mouth full of a Snickers, and found her good friend and co-surgeon, Emori. She smiled at her and tried to ask her, “What’s up?” but it came out more like, “Wahffz uffp?”

Emori laughed and shook her head as she waited for Abby to finish chewing. When she smacked her lips, signaling she had swallowed it, Emori told her, “The surgeon team for the surgery we just performed are meeting up to go over the patient’s post-opt vitals and checking for any signs of complications.”

Abby looked to the clock on the wall. It was fifty minutes until game time. Warm up would be starting in twenty minutes and it took ten minutes to drive from the hospital to the fields. That was if traffic was nice to her. She swears the light out of the hospital always turns red on purpose when she drives up to it.

She gave an approving nod to Emori and said, “Let me text my…co-worker and tell him I may be late for our game.”

Emori nodded and told her, “Sounds good. I’ll go gather the rest of the team. Meet you by the patient’s room in five? Or do you need an extra minute to finish your snack?”

Abby heard the playful and teasing note in her voice and she laughed, flipping her off. She joked back, “I’ll preform a surgery and eat my Snickers.”

“Sadly, I don’t think you’re joking.”

Both laughed at that and offered smiles to each other. Emori turned and left at the moment to gather the team. Abby took another bite of her Snickers as she walked to her office to get her notes. On the way, she pulled her cellphone out.

She opened her messages and clicked ‘new message’ and typed his name in. She sent the following message: ‘Got tied up at the hospital. May be late to the game.’

She reached her office when she heard her phone ding with his response. She flopped in her office chair while taking another bite of her Snickers, opening the message from the devil himself. It read: ‘No problem. Was just going to update you on the game time. It got delayed an hour.’

Her eyebrows furred together in confusion. Before she could reply asking why, he sent up a follow message, explaining: ‘One of the older teams, a kid went down. Ambulance and everything. They think it’s a shattered kneecap and torn ACL.’

Abby’s heart sank. That would keep the poor kid out of soccer for at least a year. She shoved the rest of her Snickers in her mouth as she typed a reply: ‘Terrible news. Hope the kid is okay and recovers quickly. See you at game time.’

She sat back in her chair, looking at the ceiling. She thanked God every day that Clarke had never suffered an injury as bad as that. Sure, she had sprained her ankle before. It’s almost impossible to not tweak your ankle the slightest in the game.

Her phone went off again and his response was: ‘See you then.’

She didn’t respond and slid her phone back into her lab coat pocket. She looked to the clock in her office. Now she had one hour and forty minutes until game time.

She grabbed her clipboard that contained her notes and stood, leaving her office. On her way to the patient’s room, she thought of texting Indra to tell her about the game time change. When Abby got the call about the emergency surgery, she had dropped Clarke off at Indra’s.

If the surgery had went into game time or Abby would be arriving right on time, Indra would get Clarke there at the time she needed to be.

She figured Marcus would alert the rest of the parents.

She arrived at the patient’s room to see her surgery team and they turned to greet her. Emori’s eyes were drawn to Abby’s lab coat pocket and she raised an eyebrow, looking back up to Abby. She asked her, “You sure you don’t need that extra minute?”

Abby looked down to her lab coat pocket and saw part of the wrapper had stuck to her. She ripped it off and threw it away in a bin nearby. Emori teased her more, “Usually you’re not messy, Dr. Griffin.”

Abby snuck her another middle finger and told her, earning a laugh from her team, “Well, you know what they say, you’re not you when you’re hungry.”

“Don’t try her, Emori. She might actually try that idea,” one of the assistants said as they exited the patient’s room.

“Are you trying to say that I won’t or I’m not skilled enough?” Abby asked, looking down to the young man.

He shrank back a bit under her gaze. Marcus and Cage may have power and control on the field, but Abby had power in the hospital. Being a top surgeon had its perks.

“Neither?” The man said, unsure.

Abby smirked a bit to herself and patted him on the head, joking, “You’ve got a lot to learn there, youngin.”

He swatted her hand off his head as the rest of the team laughed. Abby let her hand fall to her side, while lifting her notes up. She reported, “Post-opt vitals were all stable and exams all showed signs of no complications. We have a CT scan set for tomorrow for further examination?”

“Yes ma’am,” Emori told her, looking at her own set of notes, “at nine tomorrow morning.”

“Perfect!” Abby clicked her pen and slid into her lab coat breast pocket. She smiled at the group, adding, “Good job team. See you all tomorrow. We’ll meet up tomorrow a half hour before for preparations, got it?”

They all nodded in agreement and broke off into their different ways. Emori called out over her shoulder to Abby, “Good luck at your game today!”

Abby laughed a bit in response, yelling back, “We’ll need it!”

Thinking of that, she looked to the clock on the wall. There was fifty minutes until game time.

The checkup had taken longer than expected but they wanted to be careful to not make any complications that weren’t already present. Abby also liked to double check over the process with Emori repeating her tests to get another opinion.

Setting up the CT scan took time as well as they needed to find a time that worked well with immediate family and the doctors.

She entered her office and set her clipboard down while sitting in her chair. She sighed, suddenly exhausted. She wasn’t sure if she had the energy to deal with the kids, the parents, and Marcus. That in itself was exhausting.

She pulled her phone out to see an alarming amount of notifications for missed calls, text messages, and voicemails.

She had six missed calls, two voicemails, and ten text messages.

She checked the missed calls first and noticed two were from Cece and the other four were from Indra. Abby checked the first voicemail, immediately recognizing Cece’s voice.

“Abby! Where the hell are you?” Cece yelled over the noise of what Abby guessed was the field complex. “The game starts in ten minutes. Marcus wouldn’t answer when I asked him where you were. Did you have an emergency at the hospital? Just let me know because Indra stated that but she seems to think something else is going on. I’ll try calling you again at game time.”

The voicemail ended as Abby checked the time of the next call. It was ten minutes ago. Pricks of nerves found their way up Abby’s spine. She clicked on Indra’s voicemail next.

“Hey Abby, it’s Indra,” she spoke, “this is the fourth time I’ve tried to reach you. Hopefully the surgery went well and you’re still not in it. I’m saying that because I went to Marcus to tell him about your condition in case you may have forgotten to and he seemed…unbothered? I’m not sure how to word it but it was unsettling. When you get this, give me a call. The game is going to start soon.”

A click indicated the voicemail ended but Abby kept the phone by her ear for a few seconds longer. The pricks turned into needles, spreading deeper and further. She pulled the phone from her ear and noticed the voicemail and call were nine minutes ago, right after Cece.

Abby then opened her text messages, two from Indra and the rest of the eight from Cece. She opened Cece’s first, the messages progressively getting more desperate.

‘Abby!!!!!! Where are you???’ ‘Indra brought Clarke, but where are you?’ ‘Indra just talked to Marcus and now Indra seems….IDK how to put it…thoughtful?’ ‘I just tried calling you and left a voicemail. Sew that person up and get your ass here!!!!’ ‘Five minutes till game time. I thought top surgeons were fast!!!’ ‘Indra tried calling you again. She doesn’t seem to be happy about something.’ ‘ABBY !!!! IT’S THE COIN TOSS!! WHERE ARE YOU!!’ ‘I just called you again, where are you??? Kickoff just happened. GET YOUR ASS HERE!!!!!!’

Abby saw the last message and those needles were pushed further into her, cutting deeper and sending nerves deeper into her. “Kick off just happened”? The game didn’t start until another forty-five minutes now, how did kickoff happen?

She went and opened Indra’s texts, which were a lot less animated than Cece’s.

‘Taking the girls and Lincoln to the game. Call me once you’re out of surgery.’

That was sent barely an hour ago. That would mean Indra was taking the girls and Lincoln to the game for warm up at the original game time. The needles were now pushing the substance into her body, burning the nerves throughout her body.

‘Call me.’

The last text was sent five minutes ago.

Abby’s heart was beating fast as the nerves and anxiety began to overtake her body. She remembered Indra’s voicemail and her text, immediately dialing her back.

Indra picked up on the first call tone, not bothering with a greeting, but getting straight to the point, “Where are you?”

“At the hospital,” Abby answered, “I had to finish up a post-op checkup.”

“Are you done?”

“Yeah,” Abby answered uncertain. It was silent for a while before Abby asked, “Indra? Isn’t the game delayed? Why is everyone freaking out?”

She heard Indra curse under her breath. She spoke into the phone, but more to herself, “That son of a bitch. Abby, how fast can you get here?”

Abby’s mood was dropping by the second and she looked to the clock and told her, “Probably fifteen minutes the latest.”

“Well, you better drive fast,” Indra answered. She could hear the disappointment in her voice.

“Indra, what’s going on?” Abby demanded, even though her voice shook a bit. She had a feeling of dread concerning what Indra’s answer may be.

“The game isn’t delayed, Abby,” Indra told her. “I’m not sure what bullshit Marcus spewed to you, but the game started on time. It’s twenty minutes into the first half already.”

Abby almost dropped her phone at the news. He did what?

Abby was in shock first. She would’ve never guessed in a million years that Marcus would pull a stunt like this.

Then their conversation from their practice on Tuesday flashed in her mind. He had told her, “Because I know how to win a game. I don’t need your formation or your stupid game or you to get it.”

Anger leaked into every inch of her at the connection.

She wasn’t sure she could get more upset at Marcus after Tuesday’s practice but it was obvious she could. How dare he do this! How does someone have the audacity to lie to their co-worker so they miss the game?

Oh, Abby was pissed.

“That son of a bitch,” Abby repeated Indra. She still couldn’t believe Marcus would stoop that low to prove he could win without her. “I’ll be there in ten.”

“Do you know why he would lie to you?”

“Oh, I do,” Abby spat out, venom seeping into her words, “and I’m sure the whole field complex will know the reason when I’m done with him.”

Abby hung up the phone and shoved it in her pocket. She was fuming. She needed to hit something or maybe a certain someone. And maybe hit that certain someone with her car.

She looked to the clock on the wall, it indicating that there was less than ten minutes left of the half. If Abby could beat that light outside of the hospital and escape any cops, she could get there by halftime.

Then Marcus would have a different type of Hell other than the kids to worry about.

“Not now, Cage,” Abby spat out to the man in the green suit. She strode by him, ignoring whatever bullshit fell from his lips.

She was focused on one man. She was focused on the one man who she wanted to run over with her car. She was focused on the one man who just finished up his halftime speech and clapped, getting the kids off the bench.

The kids ran onto the field, the bench consisting of Murphy (not dressed due to having to sit out for his red card last game), Harper, Jasper, Lincoln, and Octavia. Before she could reach the bench and rip apart that one man, Indra suddenly stepped in front of her.

She held a hand out to stop Abby from advancing and told her, “Whatever you’re thinking of doing…”

“Oh, he deserves everything I’m going to give him,” Abby retorted, the venom in her voice not escaping Indra’s notice.

Indra tried to reason with her, “Going up there and tearing into him isn’t the best solution to this-”

“And his solution for winning this game?” Abby interrupted, anger making her snap at Indra. “Was his solution the best way to approach it?”

“Of course not,” Indra replied just as firmly back, “but that doesn’t mean you have to approach it just as bad.”

“I disagree,” Abby hissed, “because he did something unforgivable and he deserves every word I’m going to throw at him. He doesn’t get to be let off easy because it’s the high road. No, Indra, I’m sorry. What he did was wrong and it hurt.”

“I’m trying to keep it from getting worse.”

“And you tried that before, didn’t you?” Abby shook her head, smiling sadly at Indra. “This has been building up for five years, Indra. A ten minute lecture wasn’t going to change us like that, not unless we really wanted to. We found an easy outlet, the Grounder kids, to avoid our mistakes because we’re scared to admit them. In the end, this is our fault.”

Indra frowned as she looked behind her to the field where Marcus was yelling at Raven for another dive. She turned her attention back to Abby, agreeing, “I won’t argue that.”

“We were working, intentionally or not, towards this point,” Abby admitted, feeling embarrassed at that statement. It was like they were teenagers in middle school, picking fights over stupid drama and going behind each other’s back. “It may not be pretty, but it’s probably just best if we let it all out. That way there’s no more tip toeing around in a minefield waiting for one of us to explode. Let me set it off on our own terms.”

“Does it still qualify as his terms if he doesn’t know you’re here?”

“He lost the right to that the moment he texted me about the game update,” she explained, eyes drifting to Marcus. Her anger had subsided a bit while chatting to Indra, but it was still there. The moment Indra walked away, it would come back at full force.

But she was done. It was tiring, going back and forth about the same damn thing. It got them nowhere and that showed pretty well last Sunday against Alpha Station. Like Abby had said before, it was also embarrassing.

Sure, their teasing was fun and everyone laughed along to it. But Abby saw the effect their real bickering did on the kids and the parents. It was evident enough on Tuesday.

The kids stopped their drill twice because they were surprised by their coaches. She’s seen Octavia look at her father with what was fear and confusion when he spoke harshly to Abby. She also saw the disappointment in Bellamy’s body language. Not to mention, Clarke was visibly upset and didn’t watch their exchange.

She had heard Jaha tell Jackson when they were leaving to “keep an eye on your sister”. Even Cece had pulled Abby aside to ask if she was okay. If Cece, one of the most obnoxious parents, was concerned with her arguments with Marcus, then there was a problem.

Abby was done. She would walk up to that bench and confront Marcus. She would end it and leave nothing unsaid.

Indra said, “Well, I don’t disagree with you on that.” She shrugged as she tucked her hands into her jeans pockets. She added on, “Just keep in mind there are children around.”

Abby smiled at Indra and Indra noted with a groan that it held a sinister edge. She told her, “Oh, I know. And those kids? They’re going to learn what a real coach he is.”

With that, Abby walked around Indra.

Indra didn’t try to stop her this time. It was a good thing she didn’t as Abby’s blood was beginning to boil again. The anger was spilling over the cap that was trying to keep it contained. One smartass remark from him would set her off.

As calmly as she could, Abby made her way up to the bench and slowly walked to stand beside Marcus. He jumped a little in surprise when he noticed someone, her, beside him.

He quickly regained his composure, not having the guts to look at her, and kept his focus on the game in front of them. Neither of them said a thing to each other for a good few minutes. Each could feel the tension between the two crackling, waiting for a remark to set off a spark that would lead to an explosion.

Abby finally spoke up by asking, “What’s the score?”

He looked to her out of the corner of his eye and then back to the field. He replied, “1-1.”

“Mhmmm,” Abby hummed as she rocked on her heels a bit. Dread was creeping its way through Marcus as anger was spreading through Abby. “Seems like you’re doing a fantastic job without me.”

His eyes shot to her for a good look at her. He studied her stance and her body language. He read the anger in the fire in her eyes as she watched the game. Her posture read that she was guarded and bracing for the inevitable argument that was going to take place.

She was examining the field, her eyes landing on her daughter. The position she was in made the fire in her rage brighter. She added in the jab, “Guess your so called emergency formation doesn’t work, does it?”

He shot back, a hard clip in his voice, “And you’d know what about a working formation?”

Her eyes snapped to his then and they made eye contact for the first time Abby had arrived. Hers were burning with a blue fire, the hottest flame, while his were burning with flames slowly reaching the same level. The spark was lit.

“Is your excuse of putting her there because Murphy has to sit out for his red car?” She asked, tilting her head.

“It’s not an excuse,” he shot back, “it’s what will benefit the team the most.”

“Right, because it’s not like we need to win this game or anything. We can totally tie and advance,” Abby told him, deadpan. Irritation added fuel to the fire in him. Abby pretended that a lightbulb went off and she said in fake shock, “Oh, wait! That’s not us! That’s the other team.”

She was staring him down this time, eyes fixated on him. She tilted her head to the other side, waiting for a reply. He watched her for a moment more before turning his attention back to the field while saying, “Leave the decision making to me.”

This was where the spark hit the dynamite. This was where the explosion happened. This is where there was no room for turning back.

“Oh, just like how it was your decision to lie about the game time so I would miss it?” She accused him, loud enough to ensure that the kids and parents heard it.

Heads turned to look at the two, surprise and confusion among many of the faces.

Marcus’ head was one of the many to find her. His stare at her got sharper and the fire in his eyes was turning cold fast. He replied, “You made me make that decision.”

“I didn’t do anything except trust you,” she threw back, venom slipping in, “but that obviously was a mistake.”

“Trust me? You do everything but that!” He shouted back, attention completely on her, the game forgotten. “If you trusted me then I wouldn’t have had to do that!”

“Actually,” Abby retorted, “had you trusted me, you wouldn’t have had to. You didn’t and probably still don’t trust me, Marcus. I get it, I really do. I had no wins before you, I wasn’t the ideal business partner you signed up for. It’s hard to trust someone like that.”

Marcus didn’t respond. He knew she had a point. He didn’t trust her tactics and that’s why he made the decision he did. He trusted himself to the get the Delinquents the win they needed, not her.

She continued on, “You don’t trust me make the decision you thought was the best for this team so you made sure I couldn’t have a say. You didn’t give me a chance to give my input.”

“Did you forget I changed the formation for you? Did you forget I let the kids play the stupid game for warm up?”

“Not because I truly wanted to,” she told him. He visibly winced at the jab. She added, “We did them because you approved them, whether it was to get me to shut up or you could find a way to make it meet your standards.”

He didn’t argue; he knew she was right. Even if he didn’t mean for it to come off that way, it unconsciously was the reason. Marcus felt himself beginning to freak out as if he was being appointed the bad guy in this situation.

He randomly asked, “Don’t you want what’s best for this team? Don’t you want to keep your job?”

“Of course I do,” she replied, no hesitation, “but only if it’s done in the right way. Don’t you want to be a good role model for your kids?”

That was crossing the line. He took a small step towards her and harshly told her, “You’re one to talk.”

Abby didn’t flinch back. She knew she wasn’t the greatest role model material, but at least she owned up to her flaws. “You don’t think I know I’m not the perfect role model for my daughter? Yes, I cuss too much. Yes, I overreact a lot. At least I can say I’m not selfish to the point I lie to others to get what I want.”

There was silence between the two after the statement. It was chilling as the two stared at each other. The kids on the bench were watching their coaches, all scared of what would happen next. Then, Octavia asked her father, “Is it true, Dad?”

Both heads snapped to the girl on the bench. Abby could see the tears in her eyes as she gazed up at her father.

Marcus felt his heart snapping in half. He didn’t feel guilt for what he had done until he looked to Octavia. How could he lie to her? He had done it and he thought he was doing it for her and the kids. He thought it was the best decision for them.

He looked down to the ground, shame overtaking him, as he stumbled on his words, “Octavia….it’s not that simple…”

“Yes it is!” She yelled at her father. It caught the two coaches off guard. Neither had heard her be this vocal anywhere near a soccer field.

He frowned and looked to Abby, to Octavia, and then to the ground again. He sighed and nodded, saying, “Yes.”

Abby could see in Octavia’s body language that her heart was breaking. Her hands that were resting on the edge on the bench tightened around the wood. She was shaking, trying to not her tears fall.

She looked to Abby and told her, “I’m sorry,” before she got up and ran off towards the bathrooms. Abby heard a sob escape the girl and she visibly watched another heart break, but this time it was Marcus’.

Indra passed by them, saying, “I got her.” As she passed Marcus, she shook her head in disappointment. Marcus tried to speak up to defend himself but Indra didn’t listen, shaking her head again as she kept walking after Octavia.

At the same time, the two heard Alie blow the whistle. They looked to the field to see Bellamy had scored. It was now 2-1, the Delinquents in the lead.

The kids on the bench went in for their subs Marcus must have preassigned them and Lexa, Monty, and Clarke came off the field. They sat on the bench, oblivious to the previous argument but did notice the tension between their coaches.

Abby told Marcus, “You don’t get credit for taking the lead since I am present.”

The heartbreak in his eyes disappeared and the fire came back. He harshly told her, “You have a lot of nerve accusing me of that shit in front of my daughter as if you’re any better.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Did I not state my flaws?”

“You stated the ones you know and don’t care about. You forgot to mention that you choose to stay ignorant about what makes your daughter happy because you’re afraid to be wrong. That’s a bad trait by default.”

“How so?”

“You’re teaching her to be scared of change. You told Cage yourself that change is inevitable. How can you tell people that when you yourself are afraid of it?” He pestered her.

“I don’t like it when people try to tell me things they know nothing about,” she shot back. Her eyes found Clarke, who was watching her mother with confusion in her own eyes. She looked back to Marcus adding, “I know what’s best for my daughter.”

“Just like how I know what’s best for this team.”

They two fell silent again. Both were still angry at the other and still thought the other was in the wrong. Abby shook her head, sighing and said, “Forget what I said at practice, you have changed. The Marcus I know wouldn’t have done this. He would’ve just argued with me and we would’ve worked it out even if Indra had to drag us by our ears to another lecture.”

“You know damn well another lecture wouldn’t have fixed this,” he replied, anger spiking at her words.

“Maybe not,” she snapped back, “but at least it would’ve been a higher moral solution to our problem than this. How the fuck did you think this was okay, Marcus?”

“I wasn’t concerned about you or our relationship,” he replied. “I was concerned about losing my job and these kids winning.”

“And you thought this was the best way to get it?” She couldn’t believe her ears. It didn’t sound like Marcus anymore. It sounded like a certain asshole who was standing by the usual tree in a green suit.

They made eye contact, anger seeping from her to him and him to her. He said, “I had to do what was best for this team.”

“Fuck you, Kane,” Abby spat at him, her voice cracking the slightest. “Using that excuse for you to treat me less is bullshit and the Marcus I know would agree. Sure, he’d tease me about it and hold it over my head, but he would never use it as a reason to use against me. You know who that sounds like?”

Marcus didn’t answer, a single man flashing in his mind. A distant memory of himself talking to that one man at the beginning of the year played out. He had told that man, “And you don’t have to make every team below you feel like shit for being a lesser team but here we are, you doing exactly that.”

Was that not was he was doing every time he pulled that reason out? He shot down her formation before because he didn’t think it was best for the team because when she used it, she was in last place. When she brought up sharks and minnows, he looked down on it because it was a waste of time and he thought her progress proved that.

“It sounds like Cage,” she told him.

His eyes hardened, anger spewing like a volcano from his heart and running through his veins. “I am nothing like him,” he claimed.

“Really? It’s hard to tell the difference now-a-days.”

Marcus opened his mouth to respond but a new voice broke through from behind Abby. “We’re winning, why do you care so much on how we get there?”

They looked behind Abby to see Jaha standing up, making his way toward them.

Immediately, Abby transferred her anger from Marcus to Jaha. He had always made snide comments about her coaching, thinking she didn’t hear them or understood their meaning.

Jaha added, “He didn’t do anything illegal. Was it a smart decision in regards to loyalty and trust? Probably not.” Did he really say ‘probably’? “But in regards for the team’s success? It was a smart decision.”

She could feel that fucking smirk form behind her on Marcus’ face. She glared up to Jaha, not responding. He finished by saying, “We actually have a chance, don’t let your ego ruin it.”

That was it. Before she could stop herself or decided that she gave a fuck, her fist came into contact with Jaha’s face. Immediately, blood sprayed from his nose and over her knuckles. He collapsed to the floor in pain, grabbing his face.

“Holy shit!” Murphy commented from the sideline, eyes wide.

Abby barely registered the noise of the whistle in the background. She barely registered the feel of Marcus holding her back from punching Jaha again. All she could focus on was somehow she was getting blamed for this situation when she was the victim. He lied to her, not the other way around.

Yes, they both had flaws that contributed to their downfall, but this time it wasn’t her doing. Yes, her actions before lead to this moment but it was a decision made by Marcus that he voluntarily did knowing the consequences. He was at just as much fault as she was.

Abby saw red in front of her eyes, drawing her from her blank state. Her eyes focused, seeing Alie presenting her with a red card. Alie shook her head and told her, “You know the drill, Abby. No attending practice or coaching at the next game.”

Abby nodded and yanked her arm free from Marcus. She looked to him, whispering, “You’re lucky that wasn’t you.”

Marcus didn’t respond as he watched Abby, no emotion showcasing through his eyes this time. He was guarded.

Abby gladly let her angry show as she stormed off the bench and to where her car was in the parking lot. She had plenty of red cards to know the drill. She was supposed to leave the premises but Alie let her chill out in the parking lot so she could take her daughter home.

She leaned up against her car as she looked up the sky. If she looked back over to the game then her anger would come back. Surprisingly, she was trying to take the high road here and calm down before she did something she would regret.

And if you were wondering, no, she wouldn’t regret punching Marcus or even Jaha again. God knows they both deserved it.

“Great day for soccer, isn’t it, Coach?”

She didn’t have to look away from the sky to recognize the mocking voice. She didn’t have to look away from the sky to see the mocking smile. She did, however, look anyway to see Cage walking up to her.

“Every fucking day, Cage,” she replied.

It was silent between the two as he leaned against her car next to her. He crossed his arms over his chest and sighed, asking, “Is this the right time to say ‘I told you so’?”

Irritation pulsed through her and she looked to him, narrowing her eyes. She told him, “Only if you want your suit to resemble Christmas.”

He laughed and said, “As much as I like Christmas in July, I’ll pass.” He pushed himself off her car and fixed his suit jacket. He gave her a big smile and told her, “See you next Saturday for the semis- oh wait, never mind.”

She pushed herself off her car as well and reveled in the tiny fact that he backed up a few steps when she did. She smiled at him and asked, “Is that in reference to my red card or the fact that you still believe the Delinquents can’t win a game?”

“I know the Delinquents can’t win a game, at least not without those Grounder kids.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong. Last Sunday proved that well enough. Still, she didn’t like it when he talked down about her team. She leaned back against the car, telling him, “You’d be surprised.”

Before Cage could respond, Clarke appeared beside him as she walked to the car. Abby smiled at her daughter asking, “What was the final score?”

Clarke barely looked at her mom as she threw bag in the backseat. She told her, “2-1.”

Abby smiled and looked to Cage, who was visibly fuming. Ha, karma was a bitch.

“Looks like I’ll see you on Saturday,” she told him as Clarke made her way to the other side of the car. Cage didn’t honor her with a response as he stormed away, immediately pulling his cellphone out.

On his rampage through the parking lot, he ran into Marcus. The two looked at each other, silence passing between them both. Cage smiled at him and told him, “Nice decision today, Coach.”

The words struck home, sending Abby’s accusation of him being like Cage through his mind again. He mentally shook it off. He was not Cage, and he would never be. He rightfully ignored him as he made his way to his car.

He didn’t miss Cage talking into his phone however, hearing him greeting the person on the other line, “Nia? It’s good to hear your voice. We need to meet up for lunch.”

He was curious as to why Cage would be contacting Nia, the coach of Ice Nation. Nia wasn’t a very social person; she chose to keep to herself and refrained to talking to parents of her players only. Marcus knew others would agree with him when he would describe her as unapproachable.

The Delinquents had won their game today against the Reapers, earning a final standing of fourth place. That landed them in the fourth seed for the semifinals for the playoffs. They pulled the lucky card of playing Nia’s team for the first round. Whoever won that game would go on to play the winner of Mount Weather versus Alpha Station in the championship round.

Marcus has never won against Ice Nation, not alone or with Abby. It would be interesting to see how the game would go without her by his side but with the Grounder kids. He knew he could do it, but he was starting to feel uneasy after hearing Cage call Nia.

Marcus had to pass Abby’s car on the way to his and he caught her eyes as she opened her car door. She smiled, fake as can be, and told him, “You think you can coach them without me? You think that’s the best decision for the team? You got your wish, through better circumstances this time. Good luck, Marcus. You’ll need it.”

#kabby #kabby fanfic #abby griffin #marcus kane #the 100 #the 100 fanfic #lindsayisthecraic

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tyson-berry-blog · 7 years

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Sidney Crosby #2 - Homecoming

@habs-girl-31 asked: If the requests are open, (I can't see the description because my computer if having a fit), could I request one with Sidney Crosby, where the reader has just come back from 3 years in the arm, and the Pens have won the cup, but Sid was sad that the reader wasn't there to see it, but low and behold, the reader turns up and surprises Sid. Also, the team knew about it, but kept it a secret for Sid. Thank you!!! You are awesome BTW!! I love your stories

Yes my requests are open! I don’t have much to say in preface to this piece which seems to be a first for me. I hope you enjoy this!

You had done a total of three tours in Afghanistan, each one longer than the last. The most recent had been three years long and even harder knowing you had someone to return home to. Your long term boyfriend Sidney Crosby had been planning to propose the same night you were planning to break the news to him so by the end of it there were lots of tears.

“Are you sure about this?” you had asked, “three years is a long time to wait.” “You’re it for me,” he had confessed.

The two of you did the best you could with the distance and he kept you up to date on what was going on in Pittsburgh. He had dinner with your family twice a month when his schedule permitted and made sure your parents were doing okay.

On one of your most recent video calls he informed you that they had made it to the playoffs for the second year in a row. You had missed the previous season playoffs as well so you had to miss your fiancé hoisting the cup over his head. He sent pictures of course but it wasn’t nearly the same as being there for him.

You hadn’t noticed you were crying until he asked, “what’s wrong?”

“I’m just sad I don’t get to be there for you,” you sniffed.

“Don’t be sad. Please,” his voice grew hoarse as he tried to will away his own tears.

The end of the tour was set to end in mid-August so there was essentially no chance of you making it back in time.

Flash forward to game seven of the playoffs against the Nashville Predators. You were situated up in the Luxury Box with several of the important members of corporate watching as your fiancé and his team dominated the ice. He had no knowledge of you being in attendance and you had only gotten in last night. Due to an unfortunate incident with a mishandled firearm you had been honorably discharged but not before undergoing intensive surgery. You hadn’t told Sid as you didn’t want to him to worry as none of your injuries had been life threatening.

The score was tied 2-2 at the bottom of the third period and appeared to be going into overtime when Evgeni Malkin with an assist by Sid managed to sneak it past the Predators’ goaltender and win the game. Everyone around you began exchanging hugs and high fives when you felt a tap on your shoulder. The Penguins PR manager gestured for you to follow and took you down to where you could enter onto the ice. The team was currently huddled around their captain and watched as he was the first to lift the Cup. Even from this distance you could see the joy on his face. Just as soon as he passed it off to another teammate, reporters swarmed with cameras and microphones. Your fiancé’s face was broadcasted onto the Jumbo Tron and the entire arena turned to watch. Sid talking was your queue to walk down through the Penguin’s bench to the edge of the ice.

The first reporter asked, “So Sid you played a heck of a game, is there anyone you’d like to mention?”

Sidney smiled, “well I’d like to thank my team of course. Without them none of this would have been possible. My parents of course, who have always been supportive. The fans for sure, and uh lastly I’d like to dedicate this win to my fiancé who could not be here tonight because she is currently serving a three-year tour in Afghanistan.”

The PR manager nudged you to begin walking as the Penguins announcer called out to Sid.

“Sidney,” your fiancé looked up at his name, “The Cup isn’t the only thing you’re going home with tonight. Ladies and gentlemen please help me welcome back from Afghanistan…” your name couldn’t be heard over the thunderous applause of the crowd.

Sidney began frantically looking around for you, clearly worried this was a joke of some sorts. You caught his eye when he glanced over to the bench and he broke out into a sprint in an attempt to get to you. His hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat and his face was red from the cold but you had never seen anything more handsome. He wrapped his arms around you and began crying into your shoulder. You hugged him back just as tightly, aware that all eyes were on you but you didn’t care in the slightest. This was the first time you had been able to touch your fiancé in years and nothing would come between you.

While the crowd was easy to ignore, the 6’3” Russian hockey player who had skated over was not. Geno didn’t even hesitate before throwing his arms around both you and Sidney. He had been a big part in helping you plan the surprise so you were forever in his favor. Sid had to let go eventually and kissed you deeply before skating over to rejoin the team. You had promised him you’d wait outside of the locker room with the other family members and went off to join them.

His parents greeted you easily and you straightened out your uniform from when it had gotten wrinkled during the numerous hugs. You expected Sidney to be the last one out as he was the captain and a favorite of the press but just after the first couple of players exited he was quick to follow suit. He hugged his parents first then turned to you with one of the biggest smiles you had ever seen. He looked at you like he couldn’t believe you were really there.

“Are you going out with the guys?”

He looked at you like you were crazy, “definitely not.”

“Ready to go home then?” you asked.

His smile somehow got even bigger, “yeah. Let’s go home.”

You walked hand in hand to his car which was something you could do now. He was reluctant to let go but had to do so in order to get into the driver’s seat. As soon as you were both situated though he picked your hand up again.

“I’m not questioning it, believe me I’m happy you’re here but I thought you still had months left until you got home.”

You grimaced, “about that. There was an incident.”

“What?!” he turned to look at you.

“Sid eyes on the road please. It wasn’t anything serious, the bullet didn’t hit anything vital.”

“Bullet?!”

“Yeah,” you continued, “I’ve been doing rehab for it; you can barely notice the limp.”

“Limp?!”

“Can you say more than one word Sid?” you chuckled.

“Yes,” he glanced at your expression. “You caught me by surprise is all. Also how did you manage to pull this off?”

“The team helped. I talked with them sometimes to keep tabs on you.”

“Why? We talked all the time,” you detected jealously in his voice.

“I just wanted to make sure there wasn’t something you weren’t telling me. You don’t like to worry me and I had to be sure you were taking care of yourself.”

He pulled into the driveway and turned to look at you, “where is your luggage?”

“I left it at my parent’s last night when I got in.”

“You got in last night?”

“Yes.”

“You should have come here,” he grumbled.

You touched his cheek, “and ruin the carefully thought out surprise? I don’t think so.”

He unlocked the front door and ushered you inside, “I don’t want you leaving ever again.”

“I hate leaving just as much as you do, but can we not talk about that tonight? This is the first time I have gotten to be with you in years and I want to enjoy it.”

He approached you, “of course. Anything you want.”

“Anything?” you asked a smirk growing on your face.

“Yeah, anything,” he confirmed.

“Well in that case. I want to go change and take a bath while you order dinner.”

“Of course. What do you want?”

“A Forest pizza from ‘Proper Brick Oven & Tap Room’.”

Sidney looked at you, “they don’t deliver.”

“Good thing you have a car then,” you called over your shoulder on your way to the bedroom.

You could hear him grumble from the other room but the door quickly opened and the car backed out of the driveway. It was good to be home.

#sidney crosby imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #pittsburgh penguins imagine #sidney crosby #pittsburgh penguins

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