#jack brewer

Topper Thornton - outer banks 

Topper just needs to get his shit rocked honestly!

He can’t dismiss the absolute monumental L he takes from Jack as some bullshit about “getting jumped by a pogue” or “pogues fight dirty” or “I did him a favor and let him walk away”

BECAUSE JACK IS NOT A POGUE, ONE. AND TWO???? TOPPER PROBABLY PEED HIS PANTS A LITTLE!

Topper is like… quintessential douchebag that severely underestimates how much AURA Jack has moments before getting his ass absolutely handed to him

His ego is injured in a way he never fully recovers from

Nate Jacobs - euphoria (s1, s2)

I’m not gonna lie, this one would be a little harder

Still absolutely doable though

It probably happens at that fun fair or whatever when Nate is like… choking Maddy out in an alleyway??? (I haven’t watched the show in forever bear with me)

It’s a full blown “...you probably shouldn’t’ve done that.” moment

And that’s BEFORE he finds out the douchebag from the fun fair is also THEEEE nate jacobs that’s causing everyone acute distress and needs to be taken down!!! THAT’S WHEN JACK SHOWS UP LIKE THE GRIM REAPER TO GIVE A STILL INJURED NATE ROUND TWO DAYS LATER!!!!!

I’d watch that shit with popcorn and 3d glasses I swear to GOD

All four members of the Eltingville club (and northwest comix collective) - eltingville club

Listen. I love all four of these weird little incel dorks as much as the next bitch. But they need to be taken down a peg or several at times (except Jerry he doesn’t count, Jerry is fine. Mid fight Bill is probably like “JERRY DO SOMETHING YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE HE’S LEAVING ALONE” and Jack just pauses and is like “oh sick your name is Jerry? I’m friends with a Jerry too :)” then flips Bill into a table. But it’s fine because Bill ABSOLUTELY deserved it.)

Jack is probably at a comic shop with Milton for some collectable he’s been looking for. Jack is TRYING to mind his business. He really is.

But Bill and Josh and Pete (again, Jerry is fine) are being assholes! They’re saying a bunch of misogynistic shit, they’re taking toys from kids, they’re being dicks!

To his credit Jack DOES try to be civil at first, but he knows this particular type of asshole and how they hate to be reasoned with

His attempts to be nice basically get tabled when Bill looks at him and says some bullshit like “oh hoho! Look at what we have here boys, a CHAD coming into OUR TURF to try and COSPLAY at having a PERSONALITY UNDER ALL THAT PRETTY HAIR. heh.” 

He thinks he ate. Which he did. He ate absolute concrete.

Ethan Karamakov (season 1 douchebag Ethan) - dance academy

First few episodes/earlier season 1 Ethan in his prime douchebag era

I love Ethan. Kat is like a sister to me. Ethan is like a brother in law I tolerate. But good GOD did he need a good ass kicking

I think Jack and Christian would be surprisingly cool together. I’m picturing a little cross training sesh where the wasabi warriors take some ballet classes to help with agility and then teach the dancers a karate intensive for a week to help with like… jumps and flips and form or smth idk

But yeah no! Ethan tries to pull the same shit Topper does in another font. It works about as well as it did for Topper. 

Kat WILL try to get with Jack btw. I can just picture her pulling a michael moskowitz from princess diaries after Mia FINALLY calls out Lily. Just a handshake and sincere “ouch. thank you.” Kat will happily NEVER let Ethan live that one down lol

Derek Hale (human form) - teen wolf

Thankfully I don’t think this would probably have to happen

The only time it would is (in some bizarre crossover where jack is there during the earlier seasons of teen wolf where they’re still suspicious that Derek might be evil lmao) 

Like if Jack thinks Derek is gonna go MURDER someone he’ll try to fight him to buy some time for Stiles and Scott to do whatever they need to do

Added layer of complication because when you fight a werewolf you run a tiny risk of becoming one

Derek honestly might WANT to turn Jack so he can recruit him, so expect a lot of distraction and evasive maneuvers from Jack. The goal isn’t to fully kick Derek’s ass, it’s to keep him busy for a while, which Jack can TOTALLY do

Derek Hale (wolf form. Probably.) - teen wolf

Call this a stretch if you want but I think Jack could at least DISTRACT derek in his werewolf form

Again his goal here is to annoy and distract Derek

Which he does successfully

Extra stressful because Derek is really realizing that this kid has Stiles’ attitude and Scott’s strength which is a dangerous and really useful combination

Jack doesn’t know if Derek is trying to incapacitate him or turn him, but he’s hoping for neither!

Hunter - ginny and georgia

Honestly I don’t think Jack would NEED to kick Hunter’s ass

I just want to see it #proudhunterhater

Anticlimactic because he knocks out hunter with one move

Hunter is crying on the floor like the lady who fell while stomping grapes on the news (or the family guy version)

Jack feels kind of bad. It’s a little pathetic to watch.

EJ Caswell - hsmtmts 

Just like Ethan, it’s only early season 1 EJ that would even NEED an ass kicking

He probably did it to himself honestly

Probably was getting on Jack’s nerves all night then kept trying to impress Gina and/or Nini by boldly claiming that “waterpolo is JUST as dangerous as karate”

Jack (god BLESS him) tries so hard to just be calm and ignore him. “...I’m sure it is, man”

EJ’s the one who eggs him on. Play stupid games win stupid prizes. (stupid games… like… like waterpolo) (apologies to the waterpolo fandom

Jeremiah Fisher - the summer I turned pretty 

Later seasons Jere

I love him like a no ambition stoner brother in law but he NEEDS a reality check

The only cheeto tussles (0:40, and 1:40. I love jack pop btw) or slap fights between Jeremiah and Conrad have been sibling grade (and instigated by jere by the way)

Honestly I think Conrad wouldn’t really be able to say that Jack doesn’t have a point

Which is really unfortunate because Conrad is always the FIRST to defend his family. It’s a wakeup call that Jere desperately needs. He has GOT to be humbled.

Adam Fisher - the summer I turned pretty 

Jack wouldn’t plan on having any beef with Adam even though he absolutely rubs Jack the wrong way

But Jack (very reasonably btw) has an “oh HELL no” moment after he hears that Adam CHEATED ON HIS WIFE WHEN SHE WAS FIRST DIAGNOSED AND GOING THROUGH TREATMENT

I don’t know what the end result would be but I pray with my whole heart and soul that it ends with Adam being just a LITTLE less condescending to people that are younger than him

You know, not dismissing others autonomy just because they’re perpetually 20 something years younger than him despite a spotless track record of responsibility and good decisions (cough cough Conrad)

And you know. Maybe not steamrolling other people’s feelings because they don’t directly affect him. Just as a little bonus. That’d be really ideal.

Ward Cameron - outer banks

Again. Ward DESPERATELY NEEDS to get a serious and thorough ass kicking

Probably more than one!

Jack is HAPPY to assist. I feel like everything he learns about Ward is both against his will and spikes his blood pressure lmao (same honestly)

Ward feels true fear when he sees Jack dodge a bullet and kick the gun out of Ward’s hand

Ward knows he’s about to lose and starts asking how much Jack wants to be paid off to leave him alone. Jack is just like “OH IDK, MAYBE STOP TRYING TO MURDER LITERAL TEENAGERS????? ALSO DON’T BE A CLASSIST PIECE OF SHIT MAYBE!!!!”

Rafe Cameron - outer banks

Rafe (high as a kite, paranoid as fuck, tweaking his brains out, probably has a gun) vs. Jack (armed with a piece of drift wood or broom handle vaguely functioning as a bo staff) 

Rafe quite literally does NOT know what hit him!

Because not only is Jack fully capable of handing Rafe’s ass to him (which Rafe badly needs), but something about Rafe is reminding Jack a little too much of his cousin Kai (for full context. Or for shorter context)

Rafe, much like Kai, is in fact a liar a cheater and a coward (NO shade whatsoever to the rafe stans I love yall with my heart. This is beef between the two of them while we sit back with out popcorn lol) and as we know those are ALL the buttons necessary to press to send Jack into unstoppable ass kicking mode

Kind of funny. Rafe probably goes on some tangent about the treasure and the cross and the ship and the kooks and the pogues and family legacy and all this shit and Jack (who has no context for any of that or any of the local slang) is just like… “Man, what are you on??????” 

Literally everyone in cobra kai (even the senseis) - cobra kai

Full disclosure I have not watched Cobra Kai (and haven’t seen the karate kid in years) but have some information vicariously through general fandom interactions, research, scenepacks etc

I’ve seen a LOT of debate and discourse over this in general and I regret to inform you that no one in Cobra Kai would be a match for Jack (except maybe Mr. Miyagi, and MAYBE adult Daniel. Maybe. I mean Rudy was only able to beat Jack when he entered a LITERAL flow state, and Rudy knows Jack inside and out. It’s not impossible, just heavily dependent on the circumstances)

And for the people who say “ooooh it’s a disney show! It’s unrealistic! He couldn’t do that in the Cobra Kai universe!” My question to you is this: could the Cobra Kai characters hold their own against cyborgs or assassins or whatever in the Kickin it universe??? Probably! The Cobra Kai characters could probably also suplex the black dragons if they were in kickin it. Using realism as a way to dismiss universe-dependent context is a weak argument that holds no water!!!!! And sure, jack might not be able to take down a CIA agent or a cyborg if he were in Cobra Kai universe, but he could totally take down a bodyguard or a cop or three cops or a well trained bouncer! Which is equivalent to what he did in his OWN universe if you really want to play the “slide the realism scale around” game, which I personally do not. I could go on about this but I’ll save that for a later post

Here are the facts that apply to BOTH universes in terms of “realism”: Jack was a double black belt BEFORE the age of 14/15. He set the world record for most boards broken at once at the same age, then broke his OWN record for most bricks broken at once within like a year or something. Jack was a SENSEI by age 17. 

Those are all POSSIBLE to achieve in both universes, and Jack is the only one who did. “Oooh plot armor!!!!-” MIGUEL APPARENTLY BROKE HIS FUCKING BACK AND STILL COMPETED SOME TIME LATER!!!!! EVERYONE HAS PLOT ARMOR TO SOME EXTENT IT’S CALLED ENGAGING STORYTELLING!!!!!!

Anyway my point is that Jack could absolutely solo all of Cobra Kai. I do think however that the rest of the wasabi warriors would be pretty decently well matched for the cobra kai characters though. That’s a fight I’d love to see

Season 1 Andy Dwyer - parks and rec 

I love andy SO much. But I fear if Jack saw the way he took Ann for granted in early season 1 there’s a 50/50 chance he’d be back in double leg casts

That’s it I don’t have anything else to add lmao

Chris D’Amico (aka the motherfucker in movie 2) - Kick Ass 

Reminds Jack WAYYYYYY too much of Arthur Turner

Would absolutely steer Dave/Kick Ass away from him if he had the opportunity to

Would also prove singlehandedly that it’s not about the weapons and gadgets and whatever else you have at your disposal

It’s about discipline and hard work and what’s in your heart. It’s about WHY you’re fighting. It’s about loyntegresty. 

And Chris has NO loyalty honesty or integrity. And just like everyone above in this whole list, SERIOUSLY. SERIOUSLY needs to be taken down several pegs before he gets worse.

HONORABLE MENTIONS: Stelio Kontos - american dad, Cam Cameron - the summer I turned pretty, Mike Newton - twilight

Stelio DID take down a highly trained CIA agent multiple times, so I feel like it would either be a close call OR they’d end up at a stalemate

Cam Cameron, similar to Hunter, would just be… sad. And he’s not douchy enough to WARRANT an ass kicking

More specifically, the sound of a skateboard rolling down the sidewalk, followed by the scrape of the rider dodging the uneven sidewalk tile you still manage to trip over, then the rumble of wheels pivoting onto the cobbled path leading to your backyard. 

After that, it’s quiet for a moment. 

Grass rustles, and in the dimming light, a hand presses to your window, wiggling it open. A skateboard and a beat up sticker adorned helmet drop onto your beanbag, and in the next breath, Jack Brewer is hoisting himself through your window.

“What, no falafel?” You ask playfully, noting the lack of takeout containers from Falafel Phil’s in his hands. But one look at his face leaves the joke dry and dead in your throat. 

“Hey,” you start, stumbling out of bed on half numb legs from sitting for so long. “What happened? Are you okay?”

Your brow is furrowed with worry, and you reach out in an instant. Your soft hands meet the smooth plane of his cheek as you angle his head this way and that, clearly worried that he got in another fight. It wouldn’t be the first time he finished something some other douchebag started, and you’re sure it wouldn’t be the last. 

“I’m fine.” He says, catching your hand with his and walking past you to pace around your room for a moment. 

Your judgemental silence makes one thing crystal clear; you know something happened to leave him reeling like this, so he might as well just tell you when he’s ready to. 

A wry flicker of a smile crosses his face for a moment, his chest tightening strangely at just how well you know him. There’s a soft noise as you sit back down on your bed, watching him in patient silence. 

He’s grateful you know him so well, and that you know him well enough to tell he has no clue where to even start. 

“...Bad practice?” You ask cautiously, clearing the way for him to start filling you in. 

He lets out a dry, sharp laugh. 

“Bad doesn’t even start to cut it.” He mutters. He runs a hand through his hair. “But hey, if you count not representing the Wasabi Warriors in the Battle of the Dojos, and everyone thinking I’m some shallow, petty loser, then.. Sure. A really, really bad practice.” 

He scoffs, finally turning to face you. 

His stomach flips at the look on your face. You look… horrified. You open and close your mouth for a moment, searching for the words as you process this. A panicked heat starts to creep up his neck in that brief moment, as the worst possible outcome flashes through his mind in high definition. 

It’s laid out clearly - the way you’d reprimand him for not representing the Wasabi Warriors in the Battle of the Dojos, how you’d say he’s being dramatic and over reacting. His stomach twists as he pictures you taking Carson’s side too. Or worse… pitying him, assuming this really is some childish cry for attention over something as trivial as losing a single sparring match. 

“Wh- okay, well… first of all, everyone is wrong. You’re not petty or shallow or a loser.”

You state it so bluntly that it takes him a moment to process the meaning of your words. 

“And you’re not like that. You don’t just drop out of something like that for no reason, especially something so important to Rudy.” You add, fire growing in your chest at the outrageous circumstances you’re only beginning to learn of. 

“So what happened? Start at the beginning.” You urge, setting aside your textbooks to make room for him on your bed. 

Jack is still for a moment. He looks at you with a tender, fragile sort of skepticism. 

That’s the look that really makes you want to march down to his dojo and tear everyone there a new one. That’s the look that makes it obvious just how deeply his trust in his friends, his sensei, has been rattled. 

You hope for his sake it’s not fully broken.

He crosses your room in a few short strides and flops onto your bed, the daffodils printed on your duvet wrinkling beneath him. He throws an arm over his eyes and lets out a shaky breath, fighting a sudden surge of relief that leaves him nearly in tears. 

There’s a soft tug at his wrist, and he knows you’re playing with the bracelets he’s wearing - a familiar habit that’s strangely grounding. He lets out another dry, almost weepy laugh, the kind that shakes his shoulders and chest for a moment. 

“...You know that guy? Carson?” 

You know from the way he spits the name that things with the new guy have gotten drastically worse since you last talked about it a day or two ago. 

“Yeah?” You start, a defensive edge in your voice at the mention of his name. You’ve been wary of him since Jack first told you about him, since he first pointed Carson out to you at school between periods. 

Jack hesitates, really trying to find the most neutral way to explain what happened. You’re the last person who believes him, the last one in his corner. If he’s not careful, if he somehow drives you away too-

He squeezes his eyes shut, dismissing the thought. 

“Turns out he knows how to work a bo staff too.” Jack starts. 

Your fingers still on the end of a woven bracelet on his wrist. 

“...Uh-huh,” you nod, waiting for him to continue. He doesn’t have to look at you to know exactly what the look on your face is. 

Distaste. 

“This is so stupid,” he mutters before continuing. “He shows up at the dojo with Kim, who apparently went to Rockchella together after I bailed so I could practice-”

“Wait, wait. She went with Carson?” You clarify indignantly. “You’ve been looking forward to Rockchella for months.”

Jack was looking forward to it because he had wanted to go with you. So did you. 

That’s the whole problem with sneaking around in secret, it makes it hard to be seen attending public events together. He was hoping to take his whole friend group so he could “bump into you” by “accident”, and slip away together. 

…But obviously that’s not how things worked out. 

“Yup.” Jack confirms. “Then he crashes my practice with Rudy, rubbing it in my face about what a great time he and Kim had. I mean- he looked me right in the eye and said, ‘thanks for the tickets, man. We had a GREAT time’.” 

Jack’s imitation of Carson’s words, of the way he had said it makes your skin crawl. 

“He said that?” You demand incredulously. 

Somehow every word out of your mouth does the opposite of every conversation he’s had over the last three days. A strange sense of security about his anger settles over him as you make it clear that you feel the same way about Carson that he does. 

“That’s not all,” he adds, feeling the way you hang on his every word. “He put some lame EDM song on his iPod and started dancing with Kim in the middle of my private practice with Rudy. Apparently he’s the one who taught Kim how to ‘dance’.” 

He throws up air quotes around dance - you both know that Kim is enthusiastic at parties, but… well, the nicest way to put it is that she looks like a baby giraffe taking its first steps while trying to scratch an itch at the same time. 

Not good. 

Jack’s free hand fists in your duvet, tugging at the faded yellow flowers as he focuses on managing his frustration. 

“That is so disrespectful. What, is this the first time he’s ever set foot in a dojo?” You demand rhetorically. 

Once again, you’ve successfully put into words everything Jack felt and knew, but couldn’t quite verbalize. 

“I know! Then, he decides to stick around to watch me practice.” Jack adds. Your brow furrows. “...Weird.” You scoff. Jack lets out a dry laugh, agreeing. 

“So I finish the kata Rudy and I had been working on, and Carson’s all, ‘wow, looks good Jack. You’re PROBABLY the best guy for the job.’”

Jack narrates, reliving the growing tension as he speaks.

“So obviously I’m like… what do you mean probably? I’m literally the only one at the dojo who works the bo staff.”

“Yeah!” You interject, agreeing with him. “I was about to say, does he think Eddie is just going to go out there with a bo staff and do some jazzy tap number?” 

The mental image is vivid. Jack can see Eddie ripping off his gi to reveal a sparkly, bedazzled tux, catch a top hat that someone throws to him, and use a bo staff as a cane in a campy old musical number. 

He lets out a sharp laugh, momentarily distracted from everything that’s been weighing on him. 

He’s silent for a moment, and you drop your hand from his wrist, a look of fearful disbelief crossing your face. 

“...He didn’t actually-” 

“No.” Jack interjects your skeptical train of thought. “He didn’t make Eddie break out the tap shoes. Honestly, that would have been way better.”

He mutters the last part, and you let out a puff of air. You don’t know whether to be relieved that Eddie won’t be breaking out into a theatrical vaudeville number in the middle of a tournament, or worried that Jack would prefer that over whatever actually went down. 

There’s a beat of tense, dreading silence as you wait, too afraid to ask. 

Jack lets out a deep sigh, that prickling, itchy heat crawling back into his chest. 

“He started trying to bait me. Like… he started talking all this crap about how he’d let me take this tournament, and he’d get the next one. Like he’s doing me some kind of favor.” Jack spits, growing tense. He lets out a bitter laugh. 

“So of course I’m not just gonna let him get away with that. I told him, ‘let’s see who’s the best. This is about representing the dojo, not patting myself on the back.’ Rudy got us set up, and-”

Jack cuts himself off, swallowing thickly, trying to stifle the rage and injustice burning him up from the inside. 

“Well, his first mistake was trying to go up against you.” You state, waiting for him to collect his thoughts. 

Jack lets out a dry snort. 

“Sure. Until he broke my bo staff.” 

The statement makes your fingers freeze in place again. You don’t know when you started fidgeting with his hand again, but you’re sure as hell not moving at all after that bombshell. 

“...He broke it?” You repeat incredulously. You open your mouth, overwhelmed by this information, unsure what needs to be said first.

“Yup. Shattered it right down the middle.” 

You blink once. You let out a disbelieving scoff. 

Jack finally lifts his arm from over his eyes, blinking a few times as he risks a look at your face. There’s a flash of bone deep nerves before he processes that the disbelief and disgust on your face is directed at Carson’s actions, not at Jack himself. 

“What- I mean… can that even happen? They’re not supposed to do that, right?” You demand, half rhetorical. 

Catharsis floods his system. He sits up suddenly, giving you a look of desperation, needing now more than ever to be understood. 

“I tried telling them that!” He exclaims in frustration. “I told them - look, you know Carson better than I do. But I’ve been doing martial arts for my WHOLE LIFE, and I’ve never- like, not once - seen a bo staff just shatter like that. Is there any chance that he might have cheated?” 

You twist around to look at him, your eyes wide with apprehension as you brace yourself for whatever his friends said in response. 

“Which is a totally reasonable thing to ask, by the way. That’s weird.” You emphasize. Your stomach twists sickeningly, unable to understand how the hell his friends couldn’t see the obvious reason for him asking after something as bizarre as a bo staff snapping in half like a fucking toothpick. 

Jack just scoffs, half angsty and half relieved by the way you’re actually listening to him right now instead of brushing him off. His stomach squeezes with the realization hitting him once again that nearly everyone he trusts dismissed him so quickly, without so much as a second thought. Everyone but you, of course.

“They didn’t seem to think so.”

Your face freezes for a moment, struggling to understand how his alleged friends could just betray him so easily. 

Jack’s phone rings and you catch the name on the screen before he sighs and declines the call. Kim.

“Eddie told me there’s no shame in being number two, and that he knows it must be hard not being ‘top dog’ anymore.” 

Your blood pressure rises.

“And Kim looked me dead in the eye and asked if I only said that because Carson took her to Rockchella instead of me.”

Your room is silent for another moment.

Your eyes grow wide, expression serious, and you let out a long, low puff of air. You’re fighting tooth and nail not to crash out on his behalf right now, but good god is it taking all your strength to find it in you not to do something drastic. 

Jack… knows you pretty well too. And he knows if he doesn’t just bite the bullet, just get the worst of it over with and tell you now, you might end up decapitating someone - probably Carson. Or, you know… leveling the entire city of Seaford to rubble. Which ever happens first. 

Jack braces himself to rush through the last part, to just rip off the bandaid. 

“I went back to the dojo to talk to Rudy, but it was just Carson in there alone. He started trying to act like we were buddies, and I told him. ‘Look, you’re good. But you’re not that good.’ And he looked me right in the eye and said-”

Jack hesitates for a fraction of a second, his stomach twisting before he chokes it out. 

“...’I was good enough to take your place, and all I had to do was use a weighted bo staff.’” Jack’s voice is tight. “He said if I try to tell anyone, I’ll just look like a sore loser.”

He flops back onto your soft floral duvet, full of frustrated resignation. 

For the third time that night, your room is eerily quiet. 

“He said what now?” You demand, voice low and tense. 

A vindictive part of Jack feels nothing but deep satisfaction at the indignant rage he incited in you. It’s justified, a part of him says, to let himself revel in the outrage finally experienced by someone other than himself. To soak in the reality that he’s not fucking crazy, that it’s not jus tin his head like literally everyone around him has been telling him it is. And there’s a strange sense of intimacy somewhere under all that, one that he’d rather not acknowledge right now. It’s the sort of closeness, the solace you only find rarely, like a lush oasis in an arid wasteland. 

But then there’s the louder, deeper part of him that speaks up over the crackling flames burning in him. He didn’t tell you this to try and upset you, he doesn’t want you to be pissed off or upset because of him. Actually, he doesn’t want you to be pissed off or upset at all, if he can help it. He knows you’re trusting him, which means you’re also taking your cues from him. If he told you right now that he wanted to make Carson disappear, you’d… probably already be holding rope and a shovel. 

He lets out a wry laugh at the mental image. 

“OH MY GOD!” 

Your exclamation pulls him from the thought as you launch yourself off the bed. This time you’re the one pacing frantically around your bedroom while Jack tries to calm you down. 

“It’s okay-” Jack starts, but he’s cut off with a bitter laugh from you. 

“Oh-ho-ho, it is so fucking far from okay.” You spit, already ranting and raving. “The only thing okay about this whole fucking situation is- is-”

You let out a sharp breath. 

“I don’t know! Nothing, I guess!”

You let your hands fall to your sides as you continue on your tirade. Jack calls your name carefully, trying - and failing - to get your attention. 

“-Swear to god, I should just go down there now and call out his skank ass in front of everyone!”

“Hey, you don’t have to…” He starts, but you’re on a roll. He’s sure he couldn’t stop you if he wanted to at this point, so he closes his mouth, watching as you verbally annihilate Carson.

You reach some sort of a flow state, slinging out incredibly specific, creative insults, cussing out Carson - some of the bombs you drop, even Jack hasn’t heard before now - and going on about what an insult he is to the entirety of the martial arts world as a whole.

Thankfully you wear yourself out before Jack has to start seriously worrying about your blood pressure, or you losing your voice. You let out a furious roar, flopping back down onto your bed.

The mattress shifts, and Jack is laying beside you. 

You turn your head, too exhausted from your tirade to care about how close your faces are to each other. 

“...I fucking hate him.”

Your conclusion is simple, and right to the point. 

For the first time tonight, Jack lets out a proper laugh, with a proper smile. 

“Yeah.” He agrees. “Me too.”

You can’t help but smile back, letting your eyes flutter closed to soak in the brief moment of respite from all the bullshit going on around you.

Maybe now would be a good time to try and gently steer the conversation toward something that won’t lead you to property damage or bodily harm on his behalf. 

“Oh, I totally forgot.” He starts. His tone is so much more relaxed now, and you can tell this won’t be something you have to get up in arms about again. 

…Hopefully. 

“You’re never going to guess who tried to give me a pep talk in Falafel Phil’s.” He states. 

You open your eyes, looking at him curiously. 

“Sensei Ty. From the Black Dragons.” 

You gasp, swatting at his chest as a disbelieving laugh escapes you. 

“Shut up, he did not!” You protest playfully, already cringing at the idea of Ty of all people trying to have a heart to heart with anyone. Especially Jack. 

A little bit of tension drops from Jack’s shoulders as you laugh. 

“He did! He tried to talk me into joining the Black Dragons, and representing them in the Battle of the Dojos.” Jack scoffs at the ridiculousness of the idea. You both know he’d throw himself into a series of saw traps before even thinking about setting foot near the Black Dragon’s dojo. 

Your laughter fades a little too quickly, and you stare up at the ceiling with a focused look. The gears in your head are turning, and a plan begins to crystalize in your mind. “Wait… what if you did, though?” You propose slowly, turning to look at him again. 

Jack lets out a confused breath of a laugh, and slowly turns to look at you like you just grew a second head. 

“...Uh, what do you mean what if I did?” He asks, debating whether or not to check your pupils for signs of a concussion. Maybe you pulled some kind of brain muscle when you were ranting earlier. That would make more sense than… this. 

You sit up suddenly, eyes lighting up strategically. 

“Seriously, this could be exactly what you need right now.” You start. 

He begins to protest, but you cut him off. 

“Represent the Black Dragons, and beat Carson on live TV in front of everyone.” You state. But unlike Ty’s proposal, your plan has more nuance. 

“Either you kick his ass and prove you’re better than him, or - and I have a feeling this case is way more likely - he tries to cheat again. Weighted bo staff, or…” You trail off, realizing you have no clue how else someone would cheat at karate. 

“Whatever.” You finish quickly, waving away the example and drawing a reluctant chuckle out of Jack. 

“Look, someone who has to cheat his way into a competition is going to have to cheat to win it too. You know what he’s doing, which means you can expose him.” You state.

“Literally get proof on film, and eye witnesses.”

You finish. You quirk your brow, daring him not to see any merit to the idea. 

He opens his mouth. 

He closes it again. 

“Besides,” you add as an afterthought, “Their gis would really make your eyes pop.”

He lets out a bark of laughter as the idea takes root in his mind, mapping out into a plan identical to the one in your head.

“That…” He starts, sitting up slowly. “That just might work.”

He seems to snap out of his daze of planning logistics and preparing for all kinds of hypotheticals when he realizes the Black Dragon dojo is closing soon. He stands up suddenly. 

“I- I’m gonna go find Ty, tell him I’m on board.” He states. “Don’t tell-”

“Make sure you don’t-” You both start to say the same thing, and pause, exchanging a soft laugh at how in sync you are. You make a my lips are sealed gesture, tossing him the imaginary key, which he pretends to catch. 

His phone rings with a call from Kim. Again. She called him twice on his ride over, and he let it go to voicemail both times. He sighs, rolling his eyes and silences the ringtone. 

“The Black Dragons close soon, so-” he starts, but you’re already shooing him off with affectionate excitement. 

“Go, go!” You encourage, coaxing him toward your open window.

He grabs his skateboard and puts his helmet on. He starts to climb out your window, then pauses like he forgot something. 

“Oh- uh…” 

He crosses the room again, standing in front of where you’re seated on the edge of your rumpled bed. 

“Thank you for this. For… believing me.”

Before you can answer, he leans in, hesitating for only a moment when his stomach does a flip at how gorgeous you are up close. 

He tilts his head, kissing you. It’s warm and dizzying and full of gratitude, and over way too fast for your liking. 

You blink a few times, trying to get your head to stop spinning from the feeling of his lips on yours, and he’s already half out your window. 

“See you at the tournament.” He says, buckling his helmet. 

He drops out the window, and the last thing he hears as he starts to skate away is the sound of your voice calling out, the smile on your face audible in your tone. 

“I wouldn’t miss it!”