THE NEXT MORNING but Sniperspy
Overreacting vr underreacting
May they find the middle ground some day

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THE NEXT MORNING but Sniperspy
Overreacting vr underreacting
May they find the middle ground some day
That’s it,I love them sloppy and cute and adorable 💕
🥹🥹🥹i love you !!!!!! all !!!!! can not believe this wowowow
a big fat 💋 to all of u who send requests in, comment, like, reblog n absolutely everything !!!! writing has always meant a lot to me n to have a place to share it where people actually seem to be enjoying it!! is crazy n ugh ily ily ily
thankyou for taking time out of ur day to read my silly lil stories :))
xo val 💗
++ there’s a lil 2k thanku present i have for u that im almost done setting up so he ha he ily
"Reminds me of you"
"Cigars and cigarettes are totally different smells!"
"Yeah, that's why it's weird you two smell exactly the same."
Silly HD summer beach fic :D
Captain Fukuchi should not be allowed to drive, Tachihara decided. Maybe it was the fact that he usually traveled by missile or the fact that he always just slightly hungover, but frankly, it didn’t really matter to the teen. What mattered was that the jeep the captain had ‘borrowed’ from the base was currently parked in the middle of a public beach. And had three flat tires. And an empty gas tank. And he was pretty sure the breaks were malfunctioning.
It was an armored all-terrain vehicle.
If anything, it was almost impressive. If it weren’t for someone (read: Tachihara) using his ability to move the truck, it’d probably be crashed into the highway barricade. Being the only one who actually took and passed his driver’s exam, this all could’ve been avoided if they’d let him drive. But of course, the captain would never allow that since he was ‘on vacation’ and ‘supposed to be taking it easy, that’s an order!’
Which really just meant that now, he was A.) cranky B.) had sand in his hair and C.) had to deal with-
“Ta-chi-ha-ra~!”
Teruko.
The pink haired girl was standing before him, arms crossed. One foot was tapping impatiently on the sand. Though really, it was more of a ‘flapping’ noise than a tapping one, considering the hot pink flip flops she was wearing. And of course, no mildly irritating sound was missed by Jouno’s perceptive ears.
“Vice Captain, please keep that got awful slapping of cheap foam on sand to a minimum. You’re going to aggravate my senses and scare away my target.”
Tachihara blinked at that, shaking himself out of his thoughts. “Huh? Your target? I didn’t realize we were on a mission.“
He stepped forward, only to be stopped by a warm hand on his shoulder.
“This is something Jouno and I must do together. It is a training exercise meant to build patience and teamwork.”
The strongest Hunting Dog (in terms of physical strength, which didn’t matter nearly as much as intelligence, according to Jouno) was wearing a purple Hawaiian shirt. In his hands were two plastic buckets filled with water.
“No, you dimwit. I’m not building anything with you. You’re just carrying my supplies since you decided to nose in my business,” Jouno huffed.
“Oh.”
It wasn’t even noon and Tachihara could already feel a headache coming on. Excusing himself from what was almost certainly going to be another fight, he padded his way back to the jeep. He loved his family, really. But sometimes they made him want to drown himself. In alcohol.
And then the ocean.
“Hey! Where are you storming off to?! I wanna build a sandcastle! Tachihara, come back! You don’t just…”
Tuning out Teruko’s chirping, the teenager rummaged through his back that was tossed haphazardly in the front seat. He hadn’t brought much- just a yellow and white floaty, his speaker, and a snorkel. According to the old man, there was a small reef about a mile off the beach. If nothing else, it’d be good to get some training in on his off day.
He slung his bag over his shoulder before slamming the door shut behind him.
“Tachihara! Why’d you run away, huh?! I was trying to talk to you!”
Ah. Teruko had managed to escape from Jouno and Tecchou’s situationship. Good for her. Less good for him.
“Sorry, Vice Captain. I just…”
He gestured vaguely towards his bag.
“How many times have I told you, don’t call me that when we’re off duty! It makes me feel old!”
One amber eye twitched slightly as he repressed the urge to roll them. “Sorry, Teruko. Force of habit.”
And also, when they first met, she’d practically ordered him to use her proper title. Then again, he’d also been a twelve year old prisoner, so maybe it felt different.
“Anyhoo…what’re ya up to? Because I can’t take any more dudes pining over each other and you’re embarrassingly single.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem!”
She continued to stare at him expectantly.
Drat.
“I’m going to check out a reef that gramps mentioned,” he mumbled, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t give me that look! It ain’t a trap or nothing. He didn’t even mention it cuz I told him we were comin’ here. It was actually a fact from a book big sis Higuchi gave big bro Akutagawa. But he didn’t want it, so he pawned it off to the old man ages ago. Actually-“
“Tachihara.”
He stopped, eyes wide. “Uh, yeah…?”
“…nothing. I think a swim would be good for you actually. Clear your head.”
“…um, I’m confused. I thought you wanted to build a sandcastle…?”
“We’ll do it after! Now go, you stupid dummy!”
She shoved him towards the water with unnatural strength. It actually hurt a bit, though part of it was definitely that he tripped over Tecchou’s now-discarded buckets. Discarded, of course, because he was now racing Jouno down the beach.
“So much for their mission, I guess,” Tachihara mumbled as he walked.
A glance back at Teruko confirmed she was no longer interested in him, instead pestering Captain Fukuchi, who was struggling with a beach chair and umbrella combo.
The one he’d been fighting with since they crashed on- er, parked on- the beach.
With a shrug, Tachihara figured he should make use of his recently awarded freedom.
So much for the strongest military squad.
—
Truly, Tachihara was grateful for the peaceful swim, because as soon as he’d returned, it was back to the chaos.
Teruko had demanded he team up with her for a sandcastle contest with the others. Tecchou and Jouno, back from what was apparently a fishing trip, were teamed up as well.
“You dunce! We don’t need a weight room for the sand army to train! That’s why I built the moat! I don’t have to see it to know what you’re planning!”
“Our sandmen deserve the opportunity to study the blade, regardless of their make or background.”
“What sand people?! We didn’t built any sand people?!”
Unlike the duo who were once again bickering like an old married couple, Tachihara was more than happy to just follow orders. Fukuchi, on a team of his own, was struggling to even get a single tower to stay standing until, finally, Teruko had ditched her own teammate (Tachihara) and gone to help the enemy (Fukuchi). Not that Tachihara was bitter or anything.
“Captain! You need to use water! Otherwise it’ll crumble!”
“Captain, stop! You’re flooding it!”
“Hey Captain, this isn’t water, it’s sake!”
…maybe he was better off on his own.
After the sandcastle contest, if it could even really be called a contest, Fukuchi and Tecchou set up a portable grill to cook the fish. Well, it was primarily Fukuchi doing the cooking and Tecchou slicing up the fish.
Not because Tecchou couldn’t cook, but because it would require Jouno also in the makeshift kitchen complaining about his choice of condiment.
Still, the grilled fish was refreshing in Tachihara’s stomach. He wasn’t picky on the best of days- he’d lived on the streets after all- but he was considerably less so after swimming around four miles and then being forced to win a sandcastle contest.
Bellies full of fish and beer (and to Tachihara’s embarrassment, a juice box Tecchou had brought for him since he couldn’t legally drink), the five curled up on the beach blanket Teruko had packed.
The Hunting Dogs were loud, obnoxious, a bit funny smelling at times…but they were still his family.
Tachihara yawned, pulling his towel around his shoulders. He was faintly aware of a large hand brushing through his hair as he closed his eyes. Part of him wished they could stay like this forever.
But of course, nothing is that simple for ability users.
Cat On the Ceiling | Pialbon
Pairing/Fandom: Alexander Albon/Oscar Piastri - Formula 1 RPF
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Summary:
“Actually,” Alex continued. “It’s true what they all say. That smile you do…”
Oscar’s stomach dropped. Not this again. He braced himself for the awkward compliment, maybe a joke about his usual stoicism. Instead, Alex’s eyes sparkled, and he gave a soft, perfectly pitched “Meow!” while raising a mimic paw.
Oscar Piastri, professional F1 driver, felt his face flush a mortified crimson.
(Or: Alex compares Oscar to his cats, Oscar think it's stupid).
ao3 link