welcome back childhood

Despite of we can’t hear the familiar “chokusetsu!” anymore, there’re bunch of good news from latest Nintendo Direct. Can’t wait for the new Zelda, Star Fox Zero, Pokken Tournament, #FE, and new clothes for squids!

But this one. This one is definitely my favorite news in yesterday’s Nintendo Direct. Although it’s not a brand new game (I do kinda angry about that there’re no news about Pokemon Z!), these old things play big part in my childhood. Welcome back my old friends! This time you won’t lost your memories anymore.

And please I also want the old Gold/Silver back :-(


And in response to my last post, if you HAVEN’T seen the 90′s show “Wishbone” and it’s Sleepy Hollow episode… BAM! Here ya go! Revel in the 90′s nostalgia and the corny (but awesome) show that combined classic novels and an adorable dog! :D Ah, yes.  90′s Halloween TV episodes were the best. (And for those of us that have seen this… welcome back to your childhood, guys. Don’t pretend you were too cool to watch this! LOL!)

Michael Song Preference: “Jet Lag” by Simple Plan ft. Natasha Bedingfield

Author: Rhine


What time is it where you are?
I miss you more than anything
And back at home you feel so far

He hates it.

He hates the gnawing, scratching feeling at the bottom of his stomach that left him feeling hollow and incomplete; he hates the ache of his shoulders from another sleepless night, the clock glowing two in the morning, but his heart still in the sunny afternoon where you are.

It’s the worst part, being away.

Away from you.

And it’s all part of the job, all part of the contract deal and all part of the fame – he had to give some things up to reap the rewards, but every time Michael lies sleepless on his bunk, he’s not sure if it’s more of a reward or a punishment.

Because he’s always so tired – tired from the restless nights, tired of being away.

He just wants some time to breathe, some space to breathe; some time with you, your air to inhale through his lips.

And all he can think about is where are you now and what are you doing; what he could be doing with you if he was by your side, bodies lying together, fingers interlaced.

But he always reaches out and feels nothing but empty air, spaces where he wishes you were.

He’d always spend his waking hours thinking of you and his restless sleep dreaming of you.

Then waking up alone.


You say good morning
When it’s midnight
Going out of my head
Alone in this bed

It’s hard.

And you always said you’d get through it together, that a few months will fly by, that distance was just another number – cheesy lines on creased lips in an attempt to soothe yourself from the fear of the detachment that always came with tours.

He always believes it when it’s coming from you.

But then when he’s gone, when you’re gone, your words disappear with you and he’s left to drown in the distance between you.

And it’s hard to get that comfort back when you’re not there, when Michael rarely hears from you.

Because the time zones are always changing and he’d fall asleep the moment you opened your eyes to a new day and it was hard to match spare pockets of time in between air flights and shows and school and work and Michael’s lucky if he hears from you at all.

It’s not from the lack of trying though.

He’s trying, he’s trying, but Michael can’t pause time, he can’t move miles.

He can only wait by his bed, hoping for his phone to ring, for your voice on the other end.

I miss you.

He whispers the words, but you’re too far to hear.


I hate the thought of you alone
I’ve been keeping busy all the time
Just to try and keep you off my mind

He tries.

He tries to focus on the tour – tries to get excited for a new city he’s never been to, for a sold-out auditorium, for the fans and the lights and the sound of the bass pumping in his bloodstream.

But you’re always there in the back of his head.

And he’d rather be exploring the city with you in his arms, he’d rather play an acoustic show just for you, he’d rather trace his name into your skin and see the lights in your eyes and feel your heart as a rhythm for the music flowing in his veins.

He’d rather be with you.

He’s trying, he really is.

He puts his blood and his sweat on the stage, but his heart and his tears are always saved for you; still beating, still aching for you.

And that’s why he messes up the chords or forgets the lyrics – he laughs and says something silly to make the others think oh, Michael – but he knows it’s more than just a regular slip-up, more than just a momentary blank.

He’s too busy thinking of you, of your wide smile when you heard the song for the first time, of your small fingers on his worn guitar strings.

He’s always thinking of you.


My heart is so jet-lagged

He’s stuck where you are, his heart always next to yours.

It can’t keep up with the airplane flights and tour bus rides, so he gave it to you, he gave it to you to keep.

So maybe that’s why he feels that dull ache when he’s gone, maybe that’s why he’s always consumed by thoughts of you while he’s away.

His heart can’t adjust to the times, to the places without you.


I miss you so bad
I wanna share your horizon
I miss you so bad
And see the same sun rising
I miss you so bad
And turn the hour clock back to when you were holding me

Is it too much to ask for?

He thinks he’s being too selfish sometimes.

Because he wants it all; he wants to take on the world with his three best friends and he wants to play on international stages and hear his voice reflected off large stadiums; he wants the crowd shouting his lyrics back at him and he wants to leave behind something more than a name that lasted for just a moment.

But he also wants you for all you were – he wants your soft whispers for his ears alone, he wants your touch grazing his arm, he wants your Sunday morning thoughts and Friday night confessions, he wants your taste on his lips and your eyes only on him.

It is a little selfish – quite a lot, actually – because Michael wants the life of his band and he wants the life with you.

And he can’t ever have both, not at the same time.

Because to live one, he always has to let go of another.

And it always hits him when he’s away on the road, how much he needs you – how much he needs you just as much as he needed his music to live.

All he can think about is the moments that almost existed, of the moments that already passed.

He’s always missing something, always a chip in his life that he can’t fix without breaking off another piece.

But for tonight – for tonight and the rest of the nights until he comes back home – he’ll be missing you.


more imagines here!