#d3: the mighty ducks

[marthaskane]

CHARLIE CONWAY & ADAM BANKS

D3: THE MIGHTY DUCKS (1996) dir. robert lieberman

[gunnarstahl]

Let’s play hockey.

[mstrickster]

It still fully makes me laugh that Charlie and Linda share one kiss; only for him to skate off back to his team right after. He didn't even look back once he'd turned around! THAT IS NOT HOW YOU TREAT A LADY, CHARLES CONWAY!

[joshjacksons]

Joshua Jackson as Charlie Conway in the Mighty Ducks trilogy

[tmd-narnia14]

Late-night-drive

Pairing: Adam Banks x fem!reader

Summary: Adam Banks and y/n go on a late night drive, vibing to their playlist they had made together and drinking.

Warnings: drinking alcohol while driving. Driving fast. But mostly fluff.

Word count: ??? But it’s pretty short.

A/n: In this imagine Adam Banks is aged up to 19, here where I’m from the legal age to drink alcohol is 18+. Just imagine it’s 2022 and Adam is 19.

———————————————————————

Y/N= your name

*Y/N POV*

As I locked the door to my house I heard Adam, my boyfriend, yell “ I got the drinks in the back seat, are you ready?!” From the car. Me and Adam were going to go on this late-night-drive where we of course had bought our drinks along.

Even though we know it’s illegal to drive while drinking, but I live in this private-area on a hill which means that the other houses are pretty far away from where we are going to drive, and people always mind their own business. So we really didn’t care if someone saw us.

“Yeah I’m ready, let’s get going already” I say exited as I opened the door to sit in the passenger seat. The time was currently 11.45 PM as Adam stepped into the drivers seat starting the car. “I’m so glad that for one time, after a long time, we get to go out. Just the two of us, no hockey no nothing just us” I say as I grab Adam’s shoulder and lightly massage it while looking at him. “Me to, I have missed the way me used to go out on these late night drives” he says as his eyes are still on the road. After sometime he pulls over and step out of the car to get the drinks from the back seat. First off he takes two beer cans and hands them to me so he can get in the car and start driving again. As he starts to drive I open the cans and hand him one.

As I hand him his beer I open mine. I took my phone out so I could connect it to the cars Bluetooth. When that was done I went into Spotify and clicked on our shared playlist, the first song that played right when I clicked on the playlist was ‘Run it! By Chris brown(feat. Juelz Santana)’. That really sat the vibe as we started to drink our beer and sing out loud, but of course as Adam’s eyes still concentrating on the road.

After sometime we had already finished our second can of beer. Adam had once again pulled over, this time I went out and opened the back seats door and took out a bottle of Vodka and two Red Bull cans, I then took two glass cups that Adam already had put in the car before we left. I then started to combine the vodka and the Red Bulls together, when I was done mixing I gave one of the cups to Adam. Right as he started to drive again ‘Heartbeat by Childish Gambino’ started to play, another one of our favorite songs. Adam being more drunk then before, starts to drive faster.

This time me and Adam got a lot more drunk then we were just a few minutes ago, Adam started to sing(rap) his soul out, as if he just didn’t do that while the other songs were playing, and I just stared at him laughing and then sang myself. Right as the beat dropped I looked over at Adam, this time he looked more appealing than ever before. He stopped because of the red light but I really couldn’t think of anything else other then him right now. I was still looking at him, the red lights flashing on his face, he turned his head to look at me, as we made eye contact, he suddenly says “ I’m so glad that you are mine and only mine” as he smiles, I on the other hand of course not being able to contain the blush that’s slowly but fast rising on my face, just smile and giggle a little.

“No really, you’re the best girlfriend I have ever had” he says again. This time it felt like he really just stared into my eyes. As we slowly lean in for a kiss we hear some car beeping from behind, we then pulled away fast and laughed a little as Adam started to drive again. “I’m also very happy that I get to have a handsome- REALLY handsome boyfriend like you” I say as I smile widely, he looked at me and smiled and took my hand to hold one of his as his other hand is holding the steering wheel.

————————————————————————

Okay so that was my first time writing an imagine/ff so I hope that you all liked it😊 and then thank y’all so much for reading it.(Btw sorry if my English is bad, English is not my first language that’s why)

[satelitis]

꒰ CAN'T GET RID OF ME THAT EASILY ꒱ . . . f reed !

pairing(s) : fulton reed x fem!portman!reader (romantic) , dean portman x sister! reader (platonic)

in which before the game against varsity, the portman siblings have a surprise up their sleeves.

requested : yes or no.

!! content warnings : fluff, yelling, swearing

robin chirps : erm so im out of my writing slump and ziggy and i nonstop talk about tmd and our boyfriends, so i decided to surprise her since she kinda got me out of my writing slumps and introduced me to my bf charlie and one of the most amazing movies of all time <3 ily zigma!! [@spaceagebachelormann]

"your'e playing hard, i'm proud of you guys." coach orion reassured as he patted russ on the shoulder.

"they're cheap shotting us to death!" luis groaned.

"i know they are, i know they are." orion sympathized.

"It's gonna take a miracle for us to hold on." averman replied. little did the ducks know that "miracle" would be a little more unexpected then they thought.

suddenly, the door burst open revealing a tall brunette with a bandana around his head. dean portman.

"dean portman is awarded a full athletic and academic scholarship to the eden hall academy," dean read off his maroon folder. "i found this lying around at home in chicago, my attorny thought i should sign it, and i agreed." he continued. "it's offical boys, im back!" he exclaimed as all the ducks cheered, especially fulton. his heart broke the day that his best friend dean, and the love of his life, y/n had to go back to chicago. he was ecstatic at the sudden appearance of his fellow bash brother. but if dean was here...then where was y/n?

"hey you ass, where'd you go?" a voice spoke in the doorway. fulton could recognize that voice from anywhere. y/n. the voice was further identified when she herself wandered into the room. fulton was beyond shocked, jovial and he felt that he might have a heart attack because of how much was happening. in no time at all, y/n was in fultons arms their lips interlocked.

"did you miss me?" y/n teased, as fulton rolled his eyes, kissing her once again. dean looked partially disgusted.

"what the hell. why didn't i get one?" dean joked, activly trying to piss y/n off. the girl gave her brother the bird as the ducks laughed and watched the cute reunion. russ and averman made jokes in the background and snickered.

"oh, fulton! i missed you so much mwah mwah mwah." averman said in a feminine high pitched voice, as he faked kissing noises. russ continued with the bit presumably as fulton.

"i missed you too, babe." he said also mimicking kissing sounds. the ducks snickered. fulton proceeded to threaten the two.

"will you shut the hell up before i give you pucks for teeth?" he said. averman and russ laughed, as they stopped the bit. fulton turned his attention back to y/n now answering her question. '

"of course i missed you, you were gone for like ever." he exaggerated. but that's what it felt like for the couple.

"the phone calls weren't the same." he frowned softly.

"yeah, 'specially WHEN DEANS BREATHING ON THE OTHER LINE." y/n raises her voice as she turns back to dean.

"why didn't you call me and tell me you were coming?" he asked her,

"cause this was way more fun." she replied, a goofy grin on their faces. "you can't get rid of me that easily." she said.

'i'd hate to intrude on your little love fest but we got a bunch of temperamental man children's asses to kick." russ chimed in.

the ducks all cheered as they made their way on the ice.

"is that dean portman?" the teenage announcer asked. the crowd was in unbelief, "oh and his sister, y/n! they're both back!" he exclaimed.

"who are those kids? they cant play!" tom exclaimed. "they're on scholarship tom, my hands are tied." dean buckley replied.

"so you're the big enforcer, huh? well its nice to meet you, see, we have a lot more in common then you think-" dean rambled.

"shut up." the warrior spat, "lets play hockey," he said.

"whatever you say sunshine," dean shrugged, the game continued as dean ended up making cole go through the glass, shattering it.

dean and fulton cheered as they banged their heads together. "the bash brothers are back and they're here to stay and so is "y/n "the firecracker" portman, as she scores goal one for the ducks!" the announcer called out and boy was fulton beyond happy with it.

[gaffney]

CHARLIE CONWAY & JESSE HALL ft. the mighty ducks scripts.

[adam-banks2024]

someone sent in

charlie conway 🎈

for one of charlie’s surprise birthday parties, the ducks all pitched in to get one of those party rooms and a birthday cake at their local ice rink. they also accidentally got too many balloons so the room was just filled by the time they were all blown up. charlie thought this was hilarious and still considers it his favourite birthday

[euphoricdenbro]

The Mighty Ducks + Tumblr Text Posts

[ralphiesaces]

charlie: bad things keep happening to me, like i have bad luck or something.

guy: charlie, you don't have bad luck. the reason bad things happen to you is because you're a dumbass.

[ponys-girl]

can we all start making an effort to refer to D3 Charlie Conway as "Sassway" because that boy was sassing EVERYBODY AND ANYBODY off that movie

[gunnarstahl]

Nice save, catlady.

[mstrickster]

We learn that in D2 that Casey remarried but in D3 there’s no mention or seeing of a stepdad. What do you think happened with that?

My theory was always that they divorced. Jan says D2, that Charlie has been over at the Ice Palace more often because of the marriage. So we know that Charlie and his stepdad maybe don't have the closest bond. Plus, I could definitely see Casey choosing Charlie over anyone else. So it was probably inevitable because of the lack of a relationship. I feel like Casey might have wanted to try for a marriage to see if it could approve things but it didn't. In the end, I feel like he'd just turned out to be one of those guys who completely changes their personality once they're married. Also, I can't see it being a very expensive wedding so it was probably pretty easy to either annul or divorce. I don't think anything like death happen. I also feel like Charlie probably felt bad about it because he loves his mom. However, I don't think Casey had any second thoughts. However, that's just my opinion I do wonder if there was anything in past scripts that tells us what happened. Might have to look into that.

Anyways, thank you for the ask!

[joshjacksons]

D3: The Mighty Ducks (1996)  ➡ Fringe Season 4 (2012)

Josh Jackson has the most heart melting smile in Hollywood!! 😍😍

[whyareyouhere66]

TV - Mighty Ducks x GN Reader

“Don’t know where you are right now…did you see me on TV?”

“Maybe I, maybe I, maybe I’m the problem…”

-TV, Billie Eillish 2022

Mighty Ducks 3/Adam Banks x GN Reader

Fem or Male, I imagined it as Male but it works either way. Y/n’s sport is not specified either.

Warnings: Angst, jealousy/comparing yourself, implications of depression, might sound a bit dramatic and kinda me projecting just a wee bit , and no real implications of romance.

3-8

The other team was up by 5 points, and the score board only 3 minutes to sounding. I could see people rushing around me, eyes trained on the ball. But I was just too tired to move my legs. 

My mind was swimming, the people sat on the bleachers were screaming into my ear like fuzzy, TV static. But my brain dampened the noise, putting a soggy blanket over my ears. My eyelids were heavy, and the rim of my eyes were feeling warm and heavy like I was gonna cry;  but I wasn’t crying. 

People whiz past me again, and I turn and try pushing myself to follow them. They were getting too close to the goal; I saw them rushing towards it. But for some reason my dampened ears and brain weren’t letting me comprehend what was truly happening, only faintly reminding me that some of the staticky-screams were from my teammates yelling at me. 

The buzzer blares, overlapping with the ‘end of game’ alarm that sounds right after it and I feel my shoulders slump. 

3-9.

Next to me there’s grumbling, a few mutters to “go after it next time” as my teammates go past me. To think I’m the captain, absolute shit. 

Their condescending tones and energy are enough to shove me away, stumbling over my feet as I squeeze my eyes shut. Maybe I was crying, maybe that’s why the ground below me felt so unstable and blurry. 

I walk over the the sidelines with my head hanging low and fists clenched as one thought echoes through me;

I want to go home. 

The air in the locker room was suffocating, coach’s after-game talk doing nothing more than stirring the annoyance everyone felt. His words felt like lukewarm water against my fizzling ears, skin melting away like foam. It felt as if every look, word, glance was pointed towards me, and the ‘C’ on my jacket burning until I felt I needed to cover it; hide it away from them all in shame. 

No one spoke to me when we all poured out into the afternoon’s air, the near-empty parking lot giving plenty of space for me to duck into my car without speaking a word. 

****

“The Eden Hall Warriors, though nicknamed the “Mighty Ducks” are on the ice again as they face their neighboring school, the Brookefield Bears…” 

The TV echoes through the living room, only a portion of the screen visible to my eye as i sink further and further into the cushions of the couch. 

Scraps of food, left on my plate that now sits on the coffee table accompanied by a singular soda can. I wasn’t hungry enough to finish it.

“Player Adam Banks goes for the puck, with years of experience under his belt! Oh and boy is it showing tonight, with a slick pass to Conway…”

The familiar name makes me narrow my eyes at the tv screen, thinking back to that name. 

Adam Banks. 

I knew him, once. Back in elementary school we’d all gather together on the playground to play whatever game was most “popular” at the time. 

It’s a weird feeling, seeing this random boy from years ago suddenly on television. 

He was always talented, passionate. Sometimes I wonder if he’d recognize me, on the slight chance we’d ever see each other again. I mean, it’s not like we were best friends or anything, but when he seems to be on television as often as he is it’s hard not to think back on him. 

My head was still cloudy, from todays events. Seeing the Ducks, how they so easily glide across the ice in such a synchronized manner it really makes me wonder - what the hell have I been doing?

Todays game was not unique, the flaws to our skills showing with ease. 

What was he doing right, that I wasn’t?

I sit up, shakily moving my head away from the scratchy pillows as I analyze the game through the TV. 

It’s always easy to compare yourself to someone. Just a quick thought, able to bring all sorts of insecurities that you hadn’t thought of before. 

I never thought I’d be sitting here, in this dark, depressing living room comparing my skills to Adam Banks of all people. 

Though maybe it wasn’t all about skills. 

Maybe it was the fact that someone my age, from my town, could’ve evolved into this successful athlete in just a few years while I had no choice but to watch. 

Maybe I should be happy for him- he was always nice to me, after all. But then again comparisons are just so much easier for the envious, greedy bystanders like me. 

How does high school hockey even end up on the television? What channel am I on again?

‘-it goes in! Another point for the Ducks-‘

I groan, letting my head fall back and rest on the couch’s back. I crane my neck to look at the ceiling, unmoving fan casting a shadow on the plain white area. The announcer’s voice pricks my ears, as I try blocking him out to think. 

But as hard as I tried, the thoughts had more static to them than the TV itself. And so I tried to stop, but it didn’t go away. 

A mix of comparisons, jealousy, images from sports fails bounce around in my head until they overlapped in the most obnoxious way possible. 

That damn announcer’s voice screamed, echoing in the back of my head like a bad song being repeated over and over. 

“Oh, shut up…” I groan, hitting my hand against the pillow as a wave of exhaustion washes over me.

The thoughts fade in and out, volume turning up and down, up and down, like an echo.

 “Banks steals the puck, bringing it back up towards Brookefield’s goal-!”

God, could this guys voice be any higher in pitch…

“Mendoza follows up, he’s got the puck now!”

“He’s going for it!”

I flinch as the buzzer goes off, echoing through the speakers and wafting through the living room. 

“And there it is, folks! Yet anoth….

I roll over onto my side, loosely hugging myself as my fists unclench and my eyes squeeze shut once more.

I could hear the announcer rambling off into the microphone, people on the bleachers going wild in the background. 

It was so loud.

“Maybe I’m the problem…”

.

I let the remark hang in the room for another moment, all my thoughts suddenly going quiet. It felt like a sort of confirmation, in a way. Something agreeing with me- yes, you are, the problem.

I slowly open my eyes, letting them wander towards the screen. Hockey players in red jersey’s celebrating, skating laps around the rink. Of course. 

I move my gaze back to the scratchy pillows and couch cushions.

Maybe I was just being dramatic. After all, that is what it felt like. Such a small comparison to make, though it felt like hundreds of signs, just pointing at me. 

One final, sour laugh escapes my throat, before disappearing. “‘M definitely the problem…”

[elisa20beth]

I forgot that you existed: series; a.b

Okay, this is coming out like a few months after making the announcement that I'm doing this. Please bear with me because this is my first time writing a series due to my strength in writing one-shots.

I forgot that you existed

pairing: Adam Banks x Reader

warnings: none

fluff and angst? I'm not fully sure of which direction I went with this

word count: 1.3k

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

-Prologue-

“Representing the United States in today’s event of the Goodwill Games, Y/N Y/L/N!”

Skating out into the center of the rink, it felt as if everything stopped. All the attention is on me. I can’t mess this up. 

The jewels on my dress reflecting the lights showering from above and glistening on my body, acting as a false narrative of the confidence that somehow seems I own. The heightened feeling of my heartbeat mocking me while the audience ahead blurs as my anxiety decided to rise at the worst time possible to take down whatever sliver of confidence I had left. But as the music started up and the arena stopped spinning, my confidence started to surge back into my body, protecting me like a suit of armor. The uneasy feeling of pure bliss and pure anxiety was all I could feel at that point.

Picking up the speed, I prepare for my first double salchow and land it with a surprise ease. Things were running too well for me at that point which honestly provides a sense of irony compared to how I was feeling on the inside. My upcoming trick, which would guarantee me a spot in the finals, was coming faster than you could say Goodwill Games. As I finally reached the prep that decides if I make the cut, everything droned out. The music and chatter slowly drowned out by my heartbeat taking control, pounding with each breath like the drums in a random classic rock song my dad blasts in the car.

buh bump, buh bump

Jumping in the air for my triple axel, I could feel the shards of ice that I shaved from the ground melt through my tights and take shelter on my legs.

buh bump, buh bump

This is what it all came down to.

buh bump

This could finally push the spotlight that my parents took control of on me.

buh bump

I can either make it..

buh bump

*SMACK

..or break it.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

buzz

Groaning as the irritable ringing of the fluorescent lights disturbed by apparent rest, I surveyed the room I somehow ended up in. The slight shiver from the cool temperature was all I needed to wake the rest of my body up. The sharp sanitized smell that invaded my senses was all I needed to figure that I was in the clinic. But I don’t even remember ho-

Oh

Oh.. The pain that radiated from my ankle starts to reduce to a slight throb as a doctor glides through the walkway with my parents trailing hot on her tracks.

“I have good news and bad news,” she said, “which would you rather go first?”

Catching my parents worried filled expression, I let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding.

“Good news..please,” I meekly followed through with.

“The good news is that it seems to be only a sprain in the ankle which should heal relatively quickly if you stay off of it,” the doctor expressed with a positive attitude which definitely  did not relieve the thick tension surrounding the area. 

“Bad news though, you’re taking an indefinite break from figure skating until it heals. So although you’re still representing your country in the games, you won’t be able to compete due to your injury.”

Closing my eyes with a sighing exhale, I glance over to my parents trading hushed whispers. Sensing my discomfort, the doctor lady spoke up: “You will spend most of your time ith us in the clinic and who knows, maybe you’ll make a friend or two,” she expressed.

“Maybe” I thought. Maybe I won’t be bored out of my mind waiting for this bloody stump of an ankle to get its act together.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

The soft hums of the television behind me broadcasting the current sport helps drown out my nerves as I sit idly in the waiting room, waiting for a miracle to get me out of here. Or even to just distract me from mellowing in my misery any longer.

Ding

“How may I help you?”

I lift up my head to inspect whoever the sing-songy voice of the clinic volunteer just greeted. To inspect whoever just became my saving grace.

..and I guess they came in the form of a fourteen year old in a polo shirt holding his wrist? Well at least we have our age in common. Maybe if I’m lucky, he’ll know a thing or two about basically living on ice, but a girl can only dream. But who knows? I’m just grateful to have a distraction, even if they came in the form of a random stranger, even for just the smallest sliver of time.

The receptionist, if that’s what the volunteer even goes by, directed the bot over to where I was currently holding reign in my kingdom of boredom and restlessness. I try to look disinterested? No then he’ll feel uncomfortable. Busy maybe? No then he’ll definitely not talk to me. I’ll just look bored. Maybe he’ll feel some sympathy and take one for the team and entertain me. Maybe then I won’t feel the nurses’ and volunteers’ pity radiating off of every single surface in this seemingly cramped area. 

You know what? I’ll just take initiative and start the conversation. Yeah! I’ll reach out and start off by saying: “..So.. what are you in here for?”

The polo shirt dude lifted his arm to show off his tender looking wrist. He seemed to ponder before deciding to satisfy the lingering reply waiting to be answered. 

“What about you?”

“I sprained my ankle on a triple axel during my short program for the figure skating event.”

He nodded off for a second until he brought up the obvious gold question.

“Wait, you ice skate?”

That question slowly morphed into gaining information about each other, dragging each other out of our self wallowing pits because we know what it's like to be deprived of action on the rink. At the end of the week, it was like we’ve known each other for years.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

I rush into the clinic holding my version of the holy grail in my head, dying to tell my new companion my great news; my ankle is almost done healing and I’ll be able to ease myself back on the ice. Seeing as he’s nowhere to be found, even though this is the time he’s usually hanging out in here, I wander up to the clinic’s volunteer desk, head still spinning around in hopes he’ll appear.

“Has a boy with blond hair, a sprained wrist, and a pitiful expression been around here today?”

The volunteer shaked his head, implying he’s been missing around these parts of town. I take the newfound info and tread back to the waiting area, waiting for my saving grace to reappear.

5 minutes… no polo shirt boy

10 minutes… no sprained wrist friend

15 minutes…no sign of the only person interesting around here.

Just as I’m about to walk out defeated, the television stops me in my tracks. I turn right around and head back to my previous position. I stared a hole into the television as all of my questions were loosely answered with the answer I was not looking for. The telecasters' speech starts to muddle together except for a single sentence.

“..and taking the stage, here comes #99 ready to take center position, opposing his Iceland opponent-”

“-best of luck to #99,

Mr. Adam Banks”

<3