#and I was really good at it too. that and gymnastics are the only sports I've ever been good at

[torchickentacos]

omg was talking on discord and something inspired me to dig out the video of the weezer cover band I was in (I think I’ve mentioned it once before?) and not a SINGLE person’s instrument is tuned it is just noise. also this is going to get me teased for being short again but I need to get back into guitar-I have three, two acoustics and an electric (all hand me downs that are older than me, I don’t have that kind of money lmao). but the only one I can comfortably use is the child size acoustic, which is at my grandma’s, and I keep forgetting to bring it back. but yeah instruments were not meant for tiny handed people like me. which is annoying. and hand injury inducing. edit: tags got super long. open on mobile at your own risk.

[roaringroa]

commented on a gymnastics video about how it was a shame that the international broadcast for yesterday's world championship women's finals didn't show julia soares' from brazil solo because i loved it (i watched the brazilian broadcast that did show it), she did so well especially considering she had just fallen off the beam, she aced it and helped give confidence back to the whole team and then linked to the only youtube video i could find for it. and then a middle aged slightly butch woman replied with "thank you dear, i'm going to watch it. big hug!"

what i'm getting at is that my rizz is off the charts women love me

[danadaria]

Steddie Olympic AU where Eddie gets on his first Olympics for BMX freestyle, and it's so weird because he has been in competitions for many years but nothing like this, something so big and with so many rules.

His background was being a hyperkinetic kid who didn't really care about his life, and somehow being fearless and doing acrobatics became his career. Still, even then it wasn't so serious.

His thing were the X-games and open exhibitions, with fire, hard rock & metal, tattoos, and having RedBull as a sponsor.

Behind the adrenaline he and his friends are a bunch of clowns who just wanted to fly and have the bones of a child forever.

But now he's here: in the middle of a giant line in an ocean of other athletes, wearing a fucking blazer from Ralph Lauren and with the lamest jeans he had to wear in his entire life.

And everything is kinda awful, because he lost sight of friends (Gareth and Max, both skaters, but they train in the same place), and he just heard there's no McDonald's at the Olympics this year.

He doesn't even like McDonald's so much, but god, he grow up hearing about athletes eating hundreds of burgers and mcnuggets for free, and sue him, but his inner child was super excited about it.

"Are you ok, man?"

Eddie opens his mouth to give a snarky remark when he sees the most beautiful man in existence – GORGEOUS v-shape, honey eyes, pink pouty lips, and kissable moles– looking at him with concern.

"Yeah, yeah. Everything is okey-dokey" He says lamely.

The most beautiful man in existence snorts at him.

"Okey-dokey? What are you? Five?"

"Probably. I was sad because I found out today there's no free McDonald's this year. Now that I know I'm not sure if it is worth being here"

Eddie's future husband looks surprised for a second and laughs at him.

"Are you serious?"

"Of course. I read some people ate so many nuggets they left the Olympics cackling like a chicken: I wanted to be one of them!"

"Oh, yeah. I ate lots of them post-competition"

"See?!"

"Ok, I give you that. But this year there's going to be international cuisine and all that jazz"

"Knowing me, I'm going to get too overwhelmed with the options and I'll end with the saddest oatmeal every day."

"You have lots of food opinions for someone that's on a sports event"

"Well, is either that or thinking that my biggest rivals are a bunch of 15-year-olds from Brazil and Japan."

"Oh? What's your sport?"

"BMX freestyle"

"That's the race in the mountains?"

"That's literally BMX racing."

"Right." He looked ashamed.

Eddie needed to fix that look, now.

"And you? What's your poison?"

"Poison? You mean my sport?" Eddie nods at him encouragingly. "Gymnastics."

"I can see it." Eddie looks at him approvingly, "You have the arms of a gymnast, big boy."

The face of Eddie's future husband turns a beautiful shade of red. And Eddie is just a second away to ask for his name, and his number to change the course of his life, when he feels a hand on the jacket's collar.

"Here you are, loser. We need to go this way!"

And before Eddie can say anything, Max Mayfield (his new arch-nemesis) takes him away from the love of his life.

He says bye with a hand before being cruelly separated, disappearing into a sea of people.

"Do you want to be murdered before or after the opening ceremony, Red?"

"Oh, shut up loser."

____________________________________________________________

Steve is going back with his best friend to their apartment, feeling super frustrated. Somehow, 24 hours ago, he thought it would be a good idea to give his phone to his best friend for the inauguration night to avoid getting too excited and watching videos of the event until 4 am.

And now he was regretting ALL his life choices.

"You don't understand Robin, I met a super cute guy, but I couldn't get his name! I'm only going to search that and nothing else"

"Steve, you made me swear I wouldn't pass your phone on inauguration day, no matter the reason. You need to sleep"

"Easy for you to say. You didn't meet someone when you didn't have your phone!"

"I would understand better than anyone! I met the cutest girl competing at air riffle, aaaand I didn't have my phone either!"

"You gave her your presentation card, didn't you"

"Yes, sorry."

"See? Why didn't you make me buy some for me, too?"

They arrive at their floor. Steve knows they're a little obnoxious, but it was the first night and it's still early.

"Good night, neighbors! Isn't it too early in the event to be fighting?"

Steve looks up so fast, he probably hurt his neck a little bit. At the end of the hallway, sitting on the floor next to a very closed door, was Steve's meet-cute: All smiley, charming, and inviting.

"It's you!"

"Oh! Hi Mr. Gymnastics, and hi unknown lady."

"It's Robin Buckley," She says and goes straight to her apartment, "we probably going to see each other again, so good night".

And she closes the door firmly behind her.

"I didn't have. I mean. I don't have my phone to search for you."

The other boy looks at him, almost evaluating him, before giving Steve a big smile and offering his hand to stretch.

"Eddie Munson."

"Steve Harrington."

"So, would you-"

"There's a McDonald's near where I compete tomorrow. Would you like to go with me?"

Eddie stands up and walks until he's in front of Steve. He smiles.

"Would love it. After all, it was my childhood dream."

Steve smiles too.

[hairmetal666]

It's a fluke that Eddie ends up a gymnast. Wayne only signs him up for summer classes at Hawkins's tumbling gym to burn off his excess six-year-old energy. Nobody, lest of all Eddie or Wayne, expects him to be talented at it.

And now, somehow, he's at his first ever elite gymnastics competition. His coaches all said he was good, but he hadn't really had a frame of reference for what that meant. Not until now. Not until he's in 3rd place after high bar, right behind Steve Harrington.

They tumbled together, as little kids. Steve a tiny boy with an absurd pompadour, monopolizing the mats for insane tumbling passes and lording his high-end competition shirts over the other kids (none of the rest even wore actual gymnastics gear; they were six and it was Hawkins).

Now, he's a swaggering fifteen year old with the same pompadour and bad attitude. They're not on the same rotation, but as Eddie moves on from his floor exercise, Steve makes a point to ram into him.

Eddie doesn't react and maybe that would've been the end of it, but he ends up placing, and Steve corners him in the locker room.

"Come to congratulate me?" Eddie smirks.

"You better watch your back, Munson." Steve shoves him into the lockers.

"I knew you were an asshole, Harrington, but I didn't realize you were a sore loser."

Steve leans close, heat melting into Eddie. "You better count yourself lucky you've gotten this far. Not really a sport for poor kids."

Eddie bristles at this. Yeah, sure, his gear is secondhand, and he and Wayne learned how to sew to mend his competition shirts, gymnastics pants, and warmups, but they work hard, together, for Eddie to do this. "Don't worry about how I afford to be here." Eddie checks him as he brushes past. "Just fix those wobbly flairs on pommel."

The rivalry is hot and fierce and mean, made even worse by the fact that Eddie has an enormous hate-boner for Harrington. It's not, Eddie reasons, his fault. He's gay and surrounded by guys whose bodies are honed for a sport based on strength, endurance, and agility, Steve the most beautiful of all. So he looks, and he longs, and he hates Harrington with every fiber of his being.

Eddie's sure this would continue for their competitive lives, but everything changes the summer before their junior years of high school. They're at a training camp, the kind for world champion, Olympic hopeful types. Steve is practicing ring dismounts when he loses himself in the air, lands hard off the mat, destroys something in his knee. He needs surgery, the recovery time 6-8 months, if he's lucky to be able to compete again.

Maybe a year ago, Eddie would be excited by this development, but now it's kind of devastating. He doesn't bother examining why.

--

Steve comes back and he's--different. His first competition, he comes up, asks, "Eddie, hey, can we talk?" And, well, they've never been on a first name basis before and Steve is so so pretty, so he agrees.

"I just want to say, I'm sorry how I treated you back before. I was a real piece of shit and you never deserved it."

Eddie truly doesn't know how to respond, never foresaw this day coming. "Thanks. Uh--yeah. Thanks."

They stare at each other for a few seconds longer before Steve taps him on the shoulder and walks away.

It's not the only thing that's changed about Steve. There's this big group of feral children that follow him around everywhere now. Apparently, Harrington told them Eddie plays dnd and now they follow him around too.

He also. Has a girlfriend now. She's pretty; delicate looking. Her name is Nancy. And she's nice, or whatever. Eddie definitely isn't jealous. It's just. He's been with Steve in locker rooms for years, and he thought--well, he'd seen the way Harrington's eyes sometimes lingered on a bicep, a well-cut thigh, the intrigue of a pelvic v, and he thought--not that it matters, but he thought--

Anyway, Steve has a girlfriend.

---

They're at the winter classic, when it happens.

Eddie is doing good. Like. Really good. Like his routines, they're not flawless, but he's hitting the big skills and sticking landings, and stays in 2nd throughout the majority of the rotations.

It's not a huge shock when he finishes his final rotation, vault, and winds up finishing in 2nd. What is a shock, though, is that, when the scores go up, Steve is wrapping his arms around Eddie's waist, hoisting him into the sky. And, even after he's back on solid ground, Harrington doesn't loosen his hold.

And it's, like. Nothing, right? It's nothing because he has a girlfriend and, sure, maybe he's bi, but that doesn't stop Nancy from existing.

He's not going to think about it, is the thing. He knows it doesn't mean anything, so he isn't going to dwell. It's definitely not all he thinks about during the podium ceremony, or after when he talks to media, or even later walking into the empty locker room.

Or. He thought it was empty. But Steve is there, smiling, saying "you were amazing out there."

They hug again, and Eddie tries not to enjoy the warmth of Harrington's body, the comforting strength of his toned biceps. Eddie pulls back and Steve is--he's so close, gazing at Eddie's lips and--

Steve's mouth is hot and sweet, like he's wearing cherry chapstick, and Eddie can't--he thinks of Nancy; she's nice, doesn't deserve this, they should stop--

But he's sucking on Steve's tongue and Steve is making the sweetest sounds, hard against Eddie's thigh, and nothing else matters.

---

It goes on for months.

Eddie knows he needs to end it, vows to as soon as they're apart.

It all goes out the window as soon as they're together again. He can't get enough. It's Steve. How is he supposed to resist?

(He needs to. It's horrifying, what they're doing to Nancy)

---

The children who follow Steve around invite him to dinner after the first day of the USA gymnastics championships.

Nancy is there.

It's the worst three hours of his life. He can't look at Steve, can barely speak to him.

Nancy is beautiful and smart and kind and strong. She doesn't deserve any of this.

And when Steve drops by his hotel room hours later, Eddie greets him by saying, "I can't do this anymore."

Steve's shoulders drop, eyes squeezing shut. "Right. Yeah, I--Yeah."

"I like you, Steve. A lot. But I can't--you have a girlfriend. And I can't keep being whatever this is for you."

Steve nods, won't meet his eyes. "You're right. It's not fair to either of you. I--My parents expect--And I--I'm sorry," he whispers the last part.

Eddie smiles, heart aching. "Sweetheart. I get it. But. Figure out your shit, yeah? Maybe then we can talk?"

The smile Steve flashes him is a broken thing. "Maybe. Sure."

And that's it.

Eddie cries himself to sleep that night.

The next day, he wins first in the all-around.

---

He and Steve stop speaking.

Somewhere around, ohh, the very first time they hooked up, he caught feelings. So sue him if it kills him, seeing Steve at every competition.

They don't speak again until the Olympic trials. And isn't that ridiculous? Eddie at the Olympic trials. It's such an insane pipe dream, being an Olympian, that he doesn't actually have any expectations whatsoever.

So knock him over with a feather when he fucking makes it on the team.

And so does Steve.

The announcement rings out, and Steve is there, out of nowhere, pulling Eddie into his arms. And Eddie's so hyped, so excited, that he just shouts and hugs Steve right back.

He pretends the proximity, the musk of Steve's cologne, the tangy saltiness of his sweat, doesn't bother him, doesn't transport him immediately back to Steve's bed.

They're teammates now; he can keep it casual.

Right before they leave for the games, news breaks that Steve and Nancy have broken up.

---

The Team competition at the fucking Olympics is going well. They've had good routines, with no huge errors, stay consistently within the top 5 scores. But then they're on the last rotation, parallel bars, and he's the very last competitor to go. They'll win bronze if he can score above 14.933.

But

He's inconsistent on parallel bars, always has been, something deep and psychological he can't quite let go of, and now their medal chances are all on him.

He salutes the judges, jumps into his starting position--and his mind goes quiet. Muscle memory, skill, years of training take over--he's flawless.

Eddie sticks his dismount, and the place erupts. He doesn't have a score yet, doesn't know if he's done it, but the rest of the team screams like he has.

They pull him into their arms, but Steve is closest, his grip the tightest. Their eyes keep catching, holding, and Eddie can't really breathe but he doesn't think it's the anxiety or the excitement.

The score goes up.

Not only is it high enough for bronze, it puts them in silver.

Eddie has barely a second to process before he's being hoisted into the air, Steve's arms bracing him up. The crowd's going crazy, his teammates screaming and hugging him, each other, but all he sees is Steve beaming up at him.

He's slowly lowered to the ground, Steve's arms still around him. "You were perfect, baby," Steve whispers. "Never seen anyone like you."

He wishes he could stay right there, Steve beaming at him, but they won the silver--they won the silver at the goddamn Olympics--and they have to get medals, do interviews.

They don't have a chance to be alone together until they're back at the Village, where Steve is just waiting in Eddie's room when he gets back.

"Is this okay?" Steve asks. "I wanted to talk to you and Jason let me in, but I can--I'll leave."

"Please don't." Eddie swallows. "Stay."

Steve smiles, a little. "I needed to tell you that I'm sorry for what I did to you and Nancy. It was unfair to both of you. I love her, you know? But she's not who--I'm not in love with her."

"No?"

"No. I thought it would make my parents happy, settling down with a nice girl. But it turned out it didn't actually make a difference to them, who I dated. And she isn't who I wanted to be with."

"I'm proud of you for figuring out what you really wanted. It's brave."

"I wish I could've been brave earlier." He gives a little laugh. "Before I hurt you."

Eddie doesn't know what to say to that. He wishes the same thing.

"Um, which is also why I'm here." Steve plucks at the waistband of his Team USA Nike joggers. "I wanted to see if maybe we could try again? Officially this time?"

Eddie can't keep his smile from taking over his entire face. "Sweetheart, I would love to."

"Yeah?"

And Eddie just--after all this time, he just--pulls Steve into his arms and kisses him. The silver medals, still around both of their necks, clink together with the force, but neither of them really care.

Steve sighs, nuzzles his nose to Eddie's. "Missed you so bad," he whispers. "I'm so sorry."

"Me too," Eddie smiles. "But kiss me a while."

Eventually, they fall back onto Eddie's bed, which makes a horrible noise as their combined weight topples onto it, and they break apart to laugh. Steve smooths back his hair, wrapping a few fingers through his curls to keep Eddie close, even though he's not about to go anywhere.

"Can't believe we made it all the way here." Steve's looking at him like he hung the moon

"Cause we're taking medals home?"

"Honey," he laughs. "Because I'm taking you home."

[angelfrombeneth]

THE HOTEL - A . DONALDSON

Sexual Content Ahead

Art Donaldson x Fem!Chubby Gymnast Reader

Summary: The US Open wasn't just a tennis event, it was a dating pool and you were definitely successful this year.

Warnings: SMUT 18+, use of Y/N, P in V, Art is a munch, Art and Y/N yearning for one another

Note: If you have any suggestions for ANY sort of fic, do send me an ask. I do check them 💗

US OPEN 2006

Tashi had her final today. You were extremely excited. You had taken time off training to visit her. She didn't know you were coming and she was going to be so stoked.

You and Tashi have been friends for 13 years, both of you growing up together at such a young age. You watched her ease into the tennis scene to become the amazing player she is now. Likewise for you, she had watched you grow as a gymnast and the excitement you both had when you got scouted for the Olympic team in 2004, as you began training towards the next Olympics which was 2008.

Both of you bonded over your love for your own sport. Both of you dipping into eachothers sport and helping eachother train.

You walked into the area Tashi's mother said she'd be. You smiled, walking past the many rushing tennis managers and people. You didn't understand much about the logistics behind it.

Your low rise white shorts, clinging to your figure as you sported the matching cropped jumper and wore your bikini top below. It was a very hot day conveniently and you being a fashion obsessed girl, you had many outfits. Your belly button piercing shining with the sun that peak through the windows within the hallway as you stalked closer to the room she was in.

You knocked on the door, clutching your bag as you smiled.

'One minute!'

You heard, as you hear clamoring on the otherside of the door.

You watched as the door flung open to reveal your best friend as you smiled brightly at her.

"Y/N! YOU CAME!" She squealed jumping forward and hugging you tightly.

"Of course I would!" You hugged her back smiling as you both pulled away. "This is the fucking US Open, of course I'd come to see your final".

"I was worried you'd be too caught up and I didn't want to bother you" She smiled as she ushered you into the room.

You shut the door behind you, smiling as you sat upon a free chair, crossing your legs. "Tashi you never bother me. Your like a sister to me of course I'm going to support you. You are always there for me"

She smiled, sighing as she sat back in her chair. "God, its not that I'm nervous. I'll definitely win" You chuckled as that comment. "I'm just... I don't know, I don't want to let people down"

"Tashi. Shush. You are literally amazing, you have a fanbase already. You are going to do amazing" You smiled at her.

"Thanks Y/N. God, how have you been! How's training been?"

"Its been great, I'm really getting into the rhythm of everything especially because the Olympics are so close now only 2 years. I'm definitely nervous but I'll be prepared" She smiled at you, her eyes glistening as she watched you speak with such excitement about your sport.

"Any boys" She smirked, raising her brow.

"Don't be silly, I'd never date a gymnast, can't mix work and pleasure" You both laughed. "What about you? Any boys?"

She shook her head. "You know what my Dads like. No ones good enough for me"

"He's not wrong" You shrugged.

Tashi rolled her eyes, a light chuckle leaves her lips as she looked to the clock. "I like this" She smiled leaning forward and touching the velvet material of your shorts.

"Thank you! It's actually something they got made for the team" You turned around, revealing a tiny embroidered logo on the back of the jacket 'TEAM US'

"Ooo love it. I need one of these" She smiled.

You peered to the clock, smiling as you stood up, grabbing your bag. "I'm going to get to the stands. You'll do great out there" You smiled, your hand upon her shoulder as you leaned forward to kiss her cheek.

"Oh I know" She smirked at you.

"That's my girl!" You cheered, as you opened the door, waving at her before making your way out towards the court.

It was a very hot day today, extremely hot. The sun was beating down on you like you were in hell and being burt alive. Perfect weather for tanning you definitely thought multiple times.

You made your way to the stands, smiling at Tashi's family as you waved to them. Opting to sit closer to the centre of the court to watch the whole game play out. You took your place, settling your legs over one another and your bag in your lap as you pulled your hair up and clipped it with your clear claw clip.

You closed your eyes, sighing as you leaned back slightly, basking in the gentle beat of the sun as you pulled your sunglasses down. Tapping your foot against the air as your flip flop slipped up and down on your foot but perfectly balanced so it never fell off.

You relaxed, enjoying the beat of the sun but you felt a shadow cast over you. A pair of shadows.

You opened your eyes and pulled up your sunglasses as you looked at the two men stood above you.

"Are you Y/N Y/L?" The brunette one spoke.

"Yes" You smiled.

"I told you!-" He turned to his blonde friend as they both sat next to you.

"Its a pleasure to meet you. I'm not a huge gymnastics fan, but you are amazing at what you do and we'll obviously your Tashi's best friend" The brunette said.

"Tashi fans, I see" You smirked, sitting up as you looked to the two of them. "Do you want to sit?"

The blonde's face looked shocked while the brunette smirked, the two quickly sitting beside you.

"Wow. You really are an angel" The blonde one spoke.

"Thanks" You chuckled, a pink hue covered his face as he nibbled at his lip, looking down.

"So your both here to watch Tashi?"

The brunette nodded. "He's never seen her play and I was telling him he needs to. She's like the hottest woman alive" He blurts out, pointing to his friend, which made you chuckle.

Before the blonde could protest, the announcers voice filled the stadium. His eyes were focused on you as you turned to look at the court watching as Tashi's competitor entered.

"Whats it like?"

You turned your head to look at him. "Whats what like? Being friends with Tashi?"

"No, being an Olympian"

You were taken back. Most people who were into tennis would ask you what's it like being friends with Tashi. Not asking much about you. It didn't bother you because they shared a common interest - Tennis. But sometimes it did irk you.

"Oh- Its um.. its really amazing. Its such a blessing I'm very grateful" You smiled. He smiled at you, as both of you turned to watch the court as the crowd roared as Tashi walked out.

You focused on the game. Watching as Tashi darted across the court. She was truly amazing at what she does. You could hear mumbles from beside you from the two boys which made you chuckle. The way their eyes never left Tashi. Little did you know, the blonde took any chance to glance at you.

"COME ONNN!" Tashi screamed as she hit the winner. The scream didn't startle you as it had become a tradition whenever Tashi wins. You smiled brightly, clapping. You knew she'd win.

Her eyes darted to the stands as she found you, smiling to you as you picked up your hand and waved.

You smiled, sighing as you stood up. The two boys beside you staring up at you. The blonde's eyes never left your face, the way his gaze held on your features was mesmerising. Whereas the brunette, his gaze faltered as he glanced up and down, checking you out.

"Will I see you boys later at the Adidas party?" You smiled down as them.

"Um I d-"

"Yes! We will see you there!" The brunette cut off his friend as he nudged the boy.

"Great, I look forward to it" You gazed at the blonde, nibbling on the corner of your lip as you smiled at him. "See you later" You shimmied past the boys.

You skipped down the stairs, towards Tashi's family greeting them as you arrived.

ADIDAS AFTER PARTY

You and Tashi were dancing together. You two were big party girls, you planned to go to college together and live the party girl life - but with you getting scouted you wouldn't go to college but Tashi vowed she would. You would visit and you two would party hard together.

Tashi wore a beautiful strapless blue dress, as her hair hung low on her shoulders as she twirled around in the Royal blue.

You wore a little black dress, probably not entirely appropriate but you were always the slightly more scandalous one when it came to outfits.

"We've got some admirers" Tashi smirked, as she twirled you round as your eyes locked upon the two boys from earlier. You span back around, smiling at her as the two of you danced very raunchy upon one another. "I saw them sat with you at my match, the blonde one seems to be enamoured"

"He's so fucking cute Tashi, I can't get over it" You smirked, turning around and pushing your ass against Tashi's front as you slowly dropped to the floor and got back up so effortlessly. "The brunette one fucks with you. Alot"

"He's definitely my type. Seems very assertive" She smirked. You laughed as she took your hand and pulled you over to the seating at the side.

The pair of you sat and watched as the boys gravitated towards you both.

"You were amazing- I'm P-"

"I know who you are" Tashi smiled. You looked at her, confused because you didn't know who they were. "Fire and Ice right?" Then it all clicked. You had watched them a few times before with Tashi.

"Of course you know us" Patrick laughed.

"So which ones which" You smiled, pointing at the two of them as you leaned into Tashi. Which one was the fire, and which one was the ice. You do wonder.

They both chuckled at the two of you. You couldn't help but notice the way Art's gaze lingered on you even if he was talking to Tashi. She noticed it also.

The four of you engaged in light conversation before you were interupted.

"Tashi, sorry to bother you but we need you for pictures baby" Tashi's dad smiled.

"Sorry guys, hope you enjoy the party though!" Tashi smiled, taking your hand as she pulled you away with her.

The rest of the party went by quite quickly, you and Tashi enjoyed yourselves and you were glad to have been there with her.

You held your heels in your hands as you giggled, walking down the stairs to the house with Tashi in hand.

"I can't believe she had the audacity to even speak to you after doing that" You laughed.

"Hey!-"

You both turned to the voice, noticing Patrick and Art sat on some chairs in the corner. The two of you walked towards the boys.

"Hey? I thought you guys would've went home. You have a final tomorrow" Tashi spoke.

"Oh we both know how it's going to go"

"Its just the juniors"

The two boys spoke over eachother as you and Tashi raised and eyebrow at eachother.

"Do you both smoke?" Patrick asked the pair of you.

"No I can't, because of training" You shook your head

"No, why. Do you two?" Tashi asked as the two nodded.

"Come to the beach with us" Patrick pleaded.

"We really have to get back, but it was nice meeting you boys" Tashi smiled.

"Come to our room. Your in the same hotel as us I'm assuming. We are in room 206" Patrick peered to the both of you. A cigarette hanging from his mouth.

You chuckled, the way Art was so tentatively listening as his gaze pierced yours.

"We have beer-" Patricks only barging chip as he stared at the two of you.

"Goodnight boys" Tashi chuckled, the two of you walking away.

THE HOTEL

You weren't going to go. But the second you both got back you rushed to change into something comfy but also sexy. Tashi was confused by your action but you pleaded her to go. You had to see that blonde again.

"Y/N, he's going to Stanford with me. You can see him again then-"

"No Tash- He was giving me the 'fuck me eyes' I can't let this one slip through the cracks" You snapped. Pulling on the shortest shorts of your life as you slipped your chest into the tightest and most flattering bikini top you had.

Tashi laughed, changing into some shorts and a jacket as she looked at you. "You like him hm"

You nod as you looked at her, pulling your jacket on but stopping the zip so you can perfectly see your breasts.

She shook her head laughing as the pair of you both slipped on a pair of slippers and exited her room.

You both listened as you knocked once more. Hearing the boys scramble behind the door, mumbling to one another as you heard things being thrown around.

The pair of you stood up straight as the door flung open as they both stood infront of you. Your eyes instantly gravitate to Art, stood in his stanford tshirt and shorts.

"Do come in" Patrick ushered the two of you in. You noticed his absence of a shirt as he opted for a more freeing feel. You can't help but think how this is him all over.

The four of you sat on the floor, a lone can of beer in the middle as you and Tashi smiled at the boys.

"So.. how often does this happen" Tashi peered to the two boys.

"What?-" Art questioned

"Going for a pair of best friends. You get one each right" Tashi raised her brow.

"Not as often as you think" Patrick shrugged, opening the can and taking a swig of beer.

"You see, Patrick has a girlfriend"

"I do not" Patrick snapped at Art.

You smirked, amused by the two boys infront of you.

"So you have a girlfriend and what about you." Tashi looked at Art.

"Well Art, he's between ladies" Patrick smirked.

Art instantly hit Patrick, shaking gis head as he peered to you. "Now don't say that. It makes me seem like some sort of- what is it-"

"Player?" You raised your eyebrow.

"Yes that. Which I am not" He grit his teeth towards Patrick.

Tashi continued to talk to the boys. You opted to sit and listen. You couldn't help but let your eyes trail upon Art's figure. The way his muscles peeped from the shirt as you nibbled at your bottom lip. Fuck you were getting hot and bothered just looking at him.

"And he was just sat there.. just covered in it. He looked like a kid who spilt milk all over himself" Patrick laughed.

You were watching Art closely, the way his cheeks tinted pink as he got embarrassed. You were really paying attention to the story - you were too busy checking him out. But you know it was something about jerking off.

You felt movement beside you as Tashi stood up, looking around as she sat upon the bed. Smiling down at the three of you.

"Come" She looked at the group.

"Which one of us-" Art started before Patrick scrambled to her side.

You watched as Art didn't flinch. Didn't move. He sat on the floor still, looking at you. This made you smile. Finally someone who was interested in you.

You stood up, dusting yourself off as you sat upon the bed too, beside Tashi as you took Art's hand pulling him up with you.

You peered to the side, noticing Tashi and Patrick already making out with one another - rather aggressively.

Art sat beside you, his bottom lip caged in by his teeth as he stared at you. His eyes focused on yours, no wandering gaze at all.

You slid your hand around his neck as you leaned in, placing your lips onto his softly.

Quickly the two of you moulded together. His hand snaked it's way to your hip as he held you softly, pulling you closer. Your legs kicked up and hung over his as the the two of you deepened the kiss.

Your lips, moving against one another. His tongue darting into your mouth as it swirled around. You couldn't help but nip at his lip. The kiss was quick but very passionate. It gave you butterflies to say the least.

He pulled away, pushing your hair aside as he sucked on your neck. His lips suctioned to the skin as he kissed down it. Leaving slight red marks peppered across your neck as you softly sighed. A light moan leaving your lips.

Your eyes trailed to Tashi as she peered to you, smirking as she basically controlled Patrick's every movement.

Your gaze didn't linger long as Art nipped at your ear, causing you to let out a soft yelp as he tugged as it, before pulling away.

You stared at one another, lips plump, swallowen and covered in eachothers saliva as you panted softly.

Tashi clasped her hands together loudly standing up as she looked at you. "We should get going"

You looked at her, slightly dazed as Art's hand softly interlocked with yours. You stood up, standing beside Tashi

"But what about your number-" Patrick spoke.

"You'll have to guess" Tashi smiled. You looked at Art, a silent exchange before you and Tashi exited the room.

You hated Tashi for cutting that short. You wanted him. You wanted to run back and have more. Take him where he stood but Tashi said the wait would make him want you more.

During the night, you got up, slipping out of the room quietly as you walked down the hall. You found yourself yet again outside room 206.

You knocked on the door, instantly regretting it and going to turn around to run off, but the door opened.

"Y/N?" Art looked at you. His hair slightly disheaved like he had been sleeping. The room pitch black behind him.

"Oh- You were sleeping I'm sorry. I just- Had to see you" You toyed with your fingers.

A breathy chuckle, left his mouth as his hand touched yours as he smiled at you. "God you are truly breath taking" He sighed, his hands fit on your hips as he pulled you closer, his lips landing on yours once more.

It was rough and passionate, but still pleasurable. Your arms made its way around his neck as you pulled him closer. Your tongue toying with his as the kiss became sloppy and needier.

Art backed up into the room, as you kicked the door shut behind you. Darkness engulfing the two of you. You both chuckled as you navigated your way to the bed, feeling around for any sort of object as your eyes adjusted to the lack of light.

You fell back against the plush of the bed, breaking the kiss as you peered up at him. It was dark but you could still see just how perfect he was. You peered to the side to notice a sleeping Patrick beside you as you looked back to Art.

"Don't be too loud" He smirked, lifting you up and throwing you down higher up the bed. He crawled ontop of you, caging you in as you both smiled at one another.

"Do you get off on this? Your friend being right there?" You whispered, your arm around his neck as you pulled his closer to you.

"I'm not going to wake him up and kick him out. Took him ages to finally get to sleep he was jerking off for hours after you both left" He whispered back. You chuckled, as your hands tugged at his shirt, pulling it off as you pulled him in, kissing him once again.

Art pulled away, stripping himself of his clothes as he kneeled before you in just his boxers. You quickly stripped yourself of your shorts and jacket, throwing them across the room as you tugged on the knot of your bikini top letting it drop off.

"Fuck-" Art bit his lip, pulling the bikini off you as he left it sprawled on the bed beside the two of you. His lips travelling down your body, sucking and nipping at the skin. Leaving countless of marks but due to the darkness you wouldnt know till morning.

Art gripped your plush thighs tightly, groaning as he lowered his face between your legs. His mouth, sucking the fat of your thighs as he definitely left dark hickeys between them. His groans as he nipped at the flesh. Your hands found its way into his hair as you tugged at it, biting your lip to suppress your moan.

"You make me so fucking hard.." He groaned, kissing your lower stomach as he bit your panties, pulling them down with his teeth. "Fuck me.. you are sculpted by a goddess..." His hands found its way to your plush stomach, kneading the flesh as he licked his lips.

Art's lips trailed up your thigh, kissing and nipping at the skin as he tugged your panties off and dropped them to the floor.

You stared down at him, biting your lip as you saw his silhouettes move within the dark. He stared up at you, as his head perfectly positioned infront of your core, smiling as his lip sucked under his teeth as a slightly blush crept onto your cheeks.

"Mhmm.. You ready?" He smiled at you, that gorgeous golden retriever type smile. Art had you in his fucking clutches and you were melting, melting badly for this boy.

You nodded, rendered speechless by his movements. A light chuckle left his lips before he dove in - his tongue lapping over your folds as you threw your head back and reached to grip at his hair - gasping.

"H-holy fuck-" You croaked out a whisper as your back arched against the bed, your hair tugging at his locks but pushing him futher into you.

His tongue worked magic on you, swirling over your folds, diving into places that haven't yet been touched. You have never felt this way before, not even your hand could do this.

You were constantly taking long gasps of air as you whined quietly. Art's large pale hands, reached round both your thighs, squeezing the plush flesh harshly as he continued to devour on you.

You couldn't think, the way he was pampering, being attentive you were cared for and feeling good. Your breath began to quicken as you bit your lip, sighing. "Art- I'm close-" You croaked as your leg began to shake as you drew closer to your climax.

Art pulled away for a brief moment which had you overwhelmed - especially how close you were. But before you could protest he was leaning over you, his lips crashed onto yours as his fingers dove into you, fingering you through your high.

You pulled away, mouth hung open as whines fell from your lips, your hand tightly gripping his bicep as your toes curled as his fingers pistoned in and out of you. Your eyes rolling back as your whole body twitched as you came against his finger. "Ffffffuck!-" You choked.

Art wore a smirk, he was proud of himself, making you cum and making you so weak. He withdrew his fingers from you, instantly connecting with his mouth as he lapped his tongue around them, peering down at you as you watched him.

"Sweet. Just how I like it" He smiled, as he kneeled back on his legs as he looked at you.

After composing yourself you sat up, looking up at him as your hands rested upon his thighs.

"S'good" You smiled, your hand sliding up over his bulge as you kneaded your hand into it as your eyes never left his. Your eyes trained on his, glistening with that needy look.

Art flinched for a second, his eyes rolling for a brief moment as he took in a sharp gasp.

You both froze at the rustling of the crisp sheets beside you, both looking to Patrick, who had turned over, face now facing the two of you but still peacefully at rest.

"Don't worry about him" Art chuckled, dipping down and capturing your lips.

"Mhm- I'm not worried but what if he wakes up.." You pulled away briefly, his hand on the back of his neck as you peppered pecks onto his lips.

"Then he can watch me fuck you" He smirked, gripping at your thighs as he pressed a long kiss against your lips. He quickly kicked off his boxers, smirking as his hand worked on his length, pumping it a few times as you layed down getting comfortable against the bed.

"I know your fucking flexible Y/N, so let's play around with that" He chuckled, taking your legs and spreading them. You smirked at him, allowing him to pratically fold you out into the splits. His eyes glistening as he could put you into whatever position he desired.

"Fuck me.. you're making me harder" He laughed, his finger running up your folds, an instinctive jerk of your body as he lips cocked up into a smirk as he pushed himself into you, the pair of you sighing in unison.

Art's hand gripped both of your calfs either side of you, holding them down as he caged himself above you, as he began to slowly thrust gaining a rhythm into you.

Your hands flew to his bare chest, sighing as you bit your lip, your finger dipping between the crevasses of his chest as he rutted into you. You body bucking against the thrusts as you suppressed your vocals as you hummed.

Art leaned down, his lips capturing yours once again as he kissed you. Needing, you kissed him back, his grip on your calfs loosening as he moved his hands to either side your head on the pillow. Your legs instantly caging around his body, your arm around his neck and a hand on his face as the pair of you kissed. Your legs pulling him closer... further into you, as his hips needily snapped into yours. The sensation, the feelings of his body needily snapping against yours for any sense of friction from you - drove you insane.

Tangled up in one another, the pair of you continued to whine and moan as Art continued to thrust at a comfortable pace into you. It was good, it was nice. But you wanted more. Craved more.

Gripping his shoulder, you whined as you slowly maneuvered yourself to straddle yourself ontop of the man. Sliding him under you as you caged your plump thighs either side of his hips as you were still sunked down on his length.

"What are you doing?" Art sighed, his hands instantly gripping your waist as his head dove into your neck, nipping at the skin.

"Mhm- wanted to... ride you" You sighed, your hips rolling against his as your breath hitched. Your hands gripped to his shoulder as your back arched, your chest leant to Art's face.

His gaze on you never left, as his mouth slacked open as he fitted it over your breast. Sucking so feverishly on the skin as you let out a soft whine. His tongue lapping over your nipple as your breast occasionally popped from his lips.

As you grinded down against him, gripping his shoulders tightly still as a string of soft moans left your mouth - Art's mouth would toy between sucking and licking at your breast, constantly trained on the supple skin as hos ehes were always fixated on you.

"God you are so fucking beautiful" He sighed, pushing his face into your breasts, your hands wrapping around his neck as bounced up and down on his cock. Maneuvering yourself to slip up and down his length, your whole body bouncing with each movement.

You eyes, occasionally snapping to Patrick's sleeping figure beside you - going through scenarios in your head of what would happen if he woke up and saw his friend balls deep in you.

You heard a snap, your head snapped back to Art's as he smiled, taking his hands as he cupped your face inbetween them.

"Don't look at him. Why you looking at him? Look at me" He spoke, his hips harshly snapping up into you with each short phrase. You gasped, gripping his shoulder as your body recoiled against the thrusts.

Art noticed the quick obedience, smirking at this, his once folded legs were now unfolded, spread apart below you as he comfortably sat, gripping your hips as he began to snap his hips up into yours. Your body bouncing down against each thrust, his eyes trained on the way your breasts would bounce harshly with each snap of the hip.

You gasped, a loud moan leaving your throat as your hands pressed down harshly against Art's chest. His thrusts deep and curving up into you were sending you spiraling. You were close, you felt yourself getting hotter and htoter as the body below you, watched you attentively- small grunts and whines leaving his lips as he carefully listened to the sound of your skin slapping back down against his with each thrust.

"Art- I'm close-" You grit your teeth, your hands pressed onto his chest as you gasped.

"Good.. because so am i-" His hands gripping your waist before pushing himself up with his core, your body flying back to lay against the bed as he positioned himself above you. With no warning, thrusting aggressively into you, your legs flailing about as you let out a load moan, his hand flying over your mouth, as he held your hip up with the other. Your back arched against the mattress as Art, leaned above you, letting out soft whines, his face scrunching as he continued to piston into you.

"Fuck- fuck- Yes there!-" You moaned from behind his hand.

Art let go of your mouth, gripping your waist as his pace sped up completely, his head thrown back as he tried to control his whiney moans to be as quiet as possible as his thrusts began to grow sloppier.

"Oh yes- fuck me- right there!-" You yelped, clawing your hands forward to his chest as his hips snapped into yours once more as you both let out a rather loud moan in unison. Your body, twitching against his, as his cock twitched inside of you. You both pratically holding your breath as you both climaxed.

Sighing as his grip on you loosens, as you relax into the mattress below. Art's hands planted either side of you, as he slowly drew himself out to push himself back in slowly, looking down watching as both your juices collected at the bottom of his shaft as he grunted, dragging out the pair of your's high.

No words were exchange in that moment, just the sound of pants and slightly wetted skin, before Art pulled out, leaning back on his thighs as he peered down at you.

The pair of you, smiling, before you sat up, wrapping your arms around his and pecked his lips softly. You just stayed there briefly- in one another's arms. You don't know how long for, you were just comftable.

Eventually, you got up. Grabbing Art's phone as you put your number in. His hand gripping your wrist as his needy gaze locked onto yours.

"When will I see you again-" He whispered.

"When you want to" You smiled, handing him back his phone with your contact open on the screen. His phone, lighting up his face as a small smile appeared on his lips.

His grip loosened as you grabbed his shirt, throwing it over your naked body as you gathered your clothes before exiting the room.

You didn't know if you'd see Art again, despite giving him your number - it was about to be a long while till you heard from him again.

When the time was right, your paths would align again. Hopefully.

~~~

Thank you for reading this piece, I hope you enjoyed it. Please do heart this post if you enjoyed it and comment/send an ask if you have any suggestions for anything else.

If you'd like to buy me a coffee you can do so here

[thewritetofreespeech]

i want to request Generation of Miracles (knb) reacting to their so being ex gymnasts and/ athlete if possible? Like it just came up in a casual conversation with a parent of s/o showing off old pictures of s/o training and winning medals and trophies but it all unexpectedly ended up with a serious hands injury so they stopped right before a big world wide event? She’s just as flexible as before now with lighter training than before!

Akashi

Surprised in himself that he didn’t know. Akashi makes it a point to be well informed. He is pleased to hear their parents be so proud of them, even if they can’t compete anymore. It’s a rare thing for him for parents to be proud. He does see though that talking about the past hurts them, so he quickly moves to change the conversation to new, current achievements.

Aomine

Aomine never knew. But then again, he didn’t ask. He suddenly realizes talking to their parents that he doesn’t know a lot about his partner, other than just superficial junk that’s not really important. He asks why they never told him about it and they tell him it’s not important anymore, but he can tell that it is. If he lost basketball Aomine would lose it. He can’t think about what they must be going through, losing their dream, and he’s hurt that they didn’t trust him enough to share it with him.

Kise

Excited to talk about their accomplishment. Even though they can’t compete anymore, their work beforehand and their work & knowledge now is impressive. Kise is the only one that doesn’t treat their injury like a loss, but that and opportunity to change course. Like coaching. Or being a manager of a team. He encourages them to continue doing what they love, even if they can’t do it exactly the same, and is supportive of their new goals.

Kuroko

It’s certainly a surprise. Since Kuroko has never met this person, the ‘athlete s/o’, it’s definitely a shift in his opinion of them. He asks a lot of questions on what competitions were like or what is was like doing stunts, but he doesn’t really know too much about the sport of gymnastics. Basketball has been the only one he was ever interested in. Tries to be supportive and notices when they get a little upset talking about it. When he lost his old friends after middle school, he thought he would lose his friends & sport forever. So he can sympathize.

Midorima

He figured that they were some kind of athlete. Based on their build and how they worked out sometimes, they clearly had a strict schedule and routine for performance. Midorimia feels bad for them. He can’t imagine your dream getting taken away like that. All that hard work down the drain. Chooses to not bring it up anymore because he doesn’t want to upset them, but does ask for stretching tips as that is a big part of gymnastics training.

Murasakibara

Doesn’t really know what to say. Murasakibara has never really been interested in his sport. He plays it cause he’s tall, he’s good at it, and it gives him something to do. He would be just as happy not play as he is on a team. So he can’t really understand what they are going through. He thinks their medals are cool though. He’s never gotten a medal for basketball. Maybe if they had those instead of trophies he would be more invested.

+Kagami

It breaks his heart to know that their career is over. Kagami would die if he could never play basketball again, or his dreams of going pro were suddenly over. He can’t imagine how hard that must be, but he knows someone who does. Kagami makes a point to introduce them to Alex. Alex would understand and be a good support person for them. Teaching them how to cope and maybe use their skills for a new hobby or path. Kagami tries to be supportive as well and a source of comfort when they need it. Whatever they need he’s there for them.

[numberonecodwomenfan]

ok yall heres my thoughts for a potential olympics au.

price boxes. 100 percent. no clue why but he just has the Vibes. it’s definitely not his first olympics. he’s getting close to retiring from the olympics (which no is not an old man joke, they genuinely just have a very small age window to be like in their prime to compete. simone biles is 27 and she’s considered on the older side for olympic athletes).

gaz does gymnastics. look at him man he just looks like a gymnast. it’s his first olympics and while he’s not really an underdog he’s not very well known. he is however definitely getting the stephen nedoroscik treatment (immediately becoming the country’s sweetheart, having tons of fan edits, etc).

soap plays soccer (IT’S CALLED SOCCER 🦅🦅🇺🇸🇺🇸) as a goalie and again, scotland’s sweetheart. they eat him UP. i mean look at him why wouldn’t they. he and gaz become immediate friends in the village and post online together. they make jokes on tiktok about getting freaky on the cardboard beds (ilona maher and nicole heavirland style) and no one ever shuts up about it. he’s new to the olympics as well.

ghost plays rugby because he’s massive and angry. i feel like this is his second olympics and he’s lowkey still mad his team lost last time but he’s pretending not to be 😭 he doesnt participate much in the dicking around, but since he, price, and gaz are all team england he gets spotted in some of the online shenanigans (can u tell i pay more attention to the athletes goofing off online than the actual games)

farah i feel does beach volleyball. shes tall (5’8” which is crazy because she looks SHORT next to some of the other characters) so good for volleyball, and i’d imagine urzikstan’s team would unfortunately be pretty small considering. yk. so they might only have enough athletes for beach volleyball since it only requires 2 players. im imagining this to be set in a world where farah wasn’t leading the ulf but the occupation and stuff still happened, but it’s over and urzikstan is slowly healing again. throughout the competition farah is very vocal about her pride for her country and she talks about her brother and parents, and says that she’s competing in honor of them. she also becomes one of those athletes that everyone roots for no matter where theyre from, simply because of a) how good she is, and b) the way she speaks about her family and her country, and how emotional it makes people.

alex surfs. look at that man and tell me he doesnt surf. i know we agreed he’s from some podunk midwest town but i can also totally imagine him being from like socal and being the most doofy surfer dude. he meets farah in the olympic village and is immediately infatuated. also i feel like he would have an obsession with one of the foods there like that norwegian swimmer with his chocolate muffins and post about it online.

(again can yall tell i pay more attention to the athletes dicking around on tiktok than the sports)

i wanna say rudy and alejandro both do equestrian because yk. vaqueros. but i cant tell if it’s too on the nose. let me know ur thoughts.

laswell does archery. i believe its one of the sports that is more likely to have “older” athletes (although i could be wrong) and i imagine laswell is like 45 ish. lesbians love her. this is not her first rodeo she has olympic’d before. people see her talking to alex on the boat during the opening ceremony and theyre like “is she his mom or smth wtf???” bc they look similar and they eventually just lean into it. like yeah this is my mom she’s like 7 years older than me. dont think about it too hard the numbers make sense. i swear.

könig wrestles because he’s massive. i fear booktok gooners would obsess over him and it would simultaneously give him a huge ego boost but also make him deeply uncomfortable. he’s a good wrestler tho so he toughs it out 😭 the gooners see him without the doofy little wrestler cap for the first time, realize he’s fugly, and move on. he can live in peace again.

horangi does shooting because i keep seeing that hot korean shooter kim yeji everywhere and shes so cool. also bc horangi is in the military in game so um. yeah. dude is cool as fuck and he knows it.

[napakmahal]

Strength Training

Tadashi x college gymnast! Reader

Kinda been a while since I did a full Tadashi one shot.

You’ve been dreading this next meet. How could you not? You’ve been practicing like shit and worst of all your air awareness has never been so off. Jumping feet into the air and twisting and turning without knowing where you are in comparison to the ground. Not only dangerous but terrifying.

At the beginning of every season your coach always told you and your team that getting to the top was one thing but staying there was another. Not to blow smoke up your ass but you were really fucking good. But you’d always vent to Tadashi how worried you were before every season. That maybe you’d finally get knocked off your podium or worse you’d get injured. He always told you that would never happen and even if it did you’d be just as amazing no matter what material your medal was made of.

You were stretching on the floor hours before your meet with your headphones blaring music when it paused. A loud ding and your boyfriend's name flashed across your phone.

“Hey, I know you’re probably busy right now. But I just want to wish you luck, you’re going to do great. We’ll be watching. Check the stands for the banner with your name on it.”

College sports were hard. College gymnastics was a whole other deal. You spent your mornings and afternoons at school while your evenings and nights were dedicated to practice. That’s actually how you met Tadashi. A rough bar routine landed you in muscle strengthening and you gave permission for a student to watch and help the trainer. He was cute, super cute and very good at what he did. He got your number from the receptionist and went out of his way to double check that you were okay the morning after your last day of strength training. You got to talking like friends, he went to his first meet ever, and months later you got a practically perfect boyfriend.

It wasn’t entirely perfect though. Your dedication to your sport and his to all of the projects and labs he did jammed your flow. You got into fights about being ignored and neglected. But you always make up within a few days. You had made it very clear that you would not compromise on what you wanted to do. Although that made your relationship rockier than some, it’s on Tadashi’s list of ten billion things he loves about you.

“Aww, thank you. I’m just stretching right now but I’ll see you guys soon. I love you.”

He responded back almost immediately.

“I love you too.”

A few hours later you arrived with your team and coach to the invitational that was quickly filling up with people. You saw a couple of people from your old gym waving to you. It was funny to think about how much you wanted to be like the big girls who wore the sponsored warm-ups and custom leotards, who got to pick their own floor music and used both the low and high bar. Now you are a big girl.

But even while you and your teammates were sat on the side of the blue carpeted floor in straddles and middle splits, the thought still lingered in the back of your mind.Your air awareness is awful. It was the one thing that cannot be taught, it's an instinct. And your instincts were off. Plus all season you’ve been having bad shoulders, bad wrists, and bad elbows. Earlier you had your coach help you wrap sports tape around your elbow and put Tiger Paws on your wrists.

After driving for a few hours, Tadashi and his family showed up to the invitational. He likes to sit closer to the top that way when you move events he can still see you just fine. They had to learn the hard way the gymnastics meets can go well into the day and sometimes even the night. But watching all your routines made it all worth it to him. Tadashi would never say it out loud but watching you do something you’re a literal expert on effortlessly is hot as fuck.

You came down from your bridge stretch and immediately saw your boyfriend, his brother, and their aunt sitting down with a banner with your name written on it. You smiled at them and waved when your coach wasn’t looking. It was improper etiquette to interact with the audience during a meet but you still wanted to say hi. One of your teammates noticed.

“Is that your boyfriend?” She asked, looking at Tadashi. Some of the other girls’ ears perked up and they immediately looked in the direction you were looking in.

You smiled to yourself. “Yeah, him and his family.”

“You guys are so cute, it’s gross.” Another girl added.

You laughed and went back to stretching before your coach could catch you. By the time the meet actually started your first event was vault. The cool thing about vault is if you mess up you get to try again. And whichever vault you do better is the one the judges will score. Tadashi and his family knew next to nothing about gymnastics before you so it was really funny when they would get mad at the way the judges scored you thinking you deserved better.

Your first vault was fine. Not great and nothing like you usually do but fine which technically meant it was shit. By your second one you coach quickly pulled you aside and reminded you “just trust yourself” before sending you off to go again. Your teammates were encouraging and by the time you went again you did much better. You could feel it.

Tadashi and his family were screaming so loud they were getting dirty looks from the people around them but it’s not like they give a shit. They came to see you and to them you always did amazing. You always thought it was cute that your boyfriends took videos of your routines on his own phone even though college meets are filmed professionally because he liked having them.

Your beam routine was fine except that part where you almost fell off and took two steps back out of your dismount. And your bar routine was a hot mess. Not only did your elbow give out mid giant but you fell out of your jaeger. It was taking every last bit of mental will for you to not start crying. It was beyond frustrating. You could feel the blood from one of your old rips seeping from underneath your grips. When you fell, Tadashi nearly jumped out of his skin and you laid flat on your back on the chalk covered mat with your hands over your eyes. His heart was racing when one of the medics and your coach approached you. You said something like ‘im fine’ and sent the medic back. He could see it on your face, you weren’t fine. Tadashi sat back down in his seat as an ugly feeling settled in his stomach.

Your last routine was always floor. Everyone likes floor routines because they’re entertaining and not as nerve racking as beam or quick as vault. For a few moments into your routine you thought floor would be your redeeming event for the day. Until your second tumbling pass when you were on your second tuck and had no clue where you were in the air or how close you were to ground. When you did land, almost falling out of the white line, you heard a loud pop sound followed by a tearing sensation in your leg and collapsed onto the floor.

Cass nearly screamed as she saw you fall onto your side clutching your leg and covering your eyes. Pain written on the parts of your face she could see.

“Oh shit.” Hiro whispered to himself. When he looked over his brother was no longer sitting next to him. Your boyfriend nearly ran towards the end of the bleachers as the medics ran to you. You weren’t moving. How come you weren’t moving? He could see the gasps of air in your back. You were crying. Whether it was because you were in pain, couldn’t finish the season or both you were crying.

Your hamstring was on fire. Fuck it hurt so bad. One of the medics asks you what your pain level is and you don’t want to sound like a baby by saying a ten, but it really was a ten.

“It hurts.” You whined almost pitifully as one of the male medics picked you up in his arms and carried you as he repeated “I know, I know.”

He carried you to the nurses station on the outside of the building and Tadashi went sprinting after you two. It made him borderline sick to see how many people had pulled out their phones just to record you laying on the floor holding your thigh and crying. By the time he got there you were sitting with your leg elevated and an ice pack right on top of your hamstring. Tears were still dribbling from your eyes.

“Baby,” He breathed out and sat down right next to you and put his hand on your face, wiping your tears with his thumb. “Are you okay?”

You were honest and shook your head no. “It hurts.”

“Yeah, it looked like it hurt.” He pressed a kiss to the side of your head and just held you. He could already see the slight bruising spread onto your skin. “If it makes you feel any better you were beautiful today.”

He smiled at you and you could only give him a small weak one in return. His heart cracked a little down the middle at your face broken into tears of sadness, pain, and frustration.

“I fucked everything up.” You wiped your nose with your hand.

Tadashi pressed more kisses to the side of your face. “No, don’t say that. Don’t-”

“Yes I did.” You insisted, now sobbing like a little girl. “That was the worst I’ve ever done!”

Your sobs were deep and full of sadness. He glanced down at your leg and saw more of the bruise becoming more prominent and colorful. Gently, he placed his hand on the ice pack and pushed it a tiny bit closer to your skin. The way he held you was so full of love and affection. The world could have been suffering an apocalypse in the background and he would still stroke your face as tenderly as he was.

“You were so beautiful today.” He repeated. “You’re so beautiful now.”

You laughed a bit thinking about how you were looking up at your boyfriend with spit, tears, and snot on your face. Yet he still looked at you like he meant it. The prettiest girl he’d ever seen, bodily fluids and all.

“You know this is kinda how we met.” He whispered to you. “You were injured and I took care of you.”

“Yeah but that time it was your job to do it.” You joked. It was nice to hear you joke a bit.

“Still, I liked seeing you. On Friday you would always come in covered in chalk because that was the only day you had training after practice.” He recalled it like it was yesterday. Small details like that that he would remember till the day he died.

“Is that how it’s going to be this time?” You asked. “Are you taking care of me?”

He pressed a kiss to your lip and smiled. “I’ll always take care of you. Plus this time it’s just you and me. No doctor supervision.”

“Should I be worried?” You laughed finally. A true laugh.

He squished your face with one hand and blew air into your ear. “Only slightly.”

“Great, can’t wait.” You smiled and scooted your body closer to his despite the pain.

[quirkwizard]

Pro Heroes at the Olympic Games

Well, it's been another three years and another Summer Games has rolled around. Only seems fair I'd try again with a post about what heroes would belong in what games. This can be based on anything from powers to skills to whatever I think would be the funniest to see.

Kamui Woods-Archery: I just think it'd be really cool for Kamui Woods to make a bow and arrow from his wooden body. I don't need any more reason than that.

Midnight-Rhythmic Gymnastics: I mean, a whip is pretty close to a ribbon. And it's not like the outfit she has to wear is that much different from her hero costume.

Sir Nighteye-Golf: Sir Nighteye seems like the kind of guy that would be into golfing. That's it. I just thought it'd be fitting for the guy that looks and dresses like a stoic businessman.

Hound Dog-Handball: This is a sport all about catching and throwing a ball around and keeping it away from another team. Naturally, this should be no problem for the man who is part dog.

Beast Jeanist-Diving: The need for precision and elegance would, in this event, fit great with someone like Best Jeanist. That and it's the sport with the least amount of clothing for him to cheat with.

Mount Lady-Sports Climbing: She's got mountain in her name. Of course that means she's good at climbing. Oh, who am I kidding? She'll just turn giant-sized and reach the top instantly.

Snipe-Shooting: Considering all of his shots are guaranteed hits, I would want to see how disrespectful Sniper would get with this. Like doing it with his eyes closed or even shooting other people's targets.

Miruko-Basketball: I could have chosen any leg-based sport for her, but I wanted to pick the one with some more direct competition. Plus, there is the easy reference in putting her in a Toon Squad jersey.

Present Mic-Breaking: Yeah, apparently breaking dancing is considered an Olympic sport. And look me in the eye and tell me Present Mic of all people doesn't know how to break dance.

Nezu-Table Tennis: This is just the only sport that I think could fit him. Literally. He might be too small to use or do any of the sports on the roster. Even then, he's going to have to wield the paddle like a claymore.

Wild Wild Pussycats-3x3 Basketball: Considering this is one of the few team events that requires such a small number, it only feels fitting to place Ragdoll, Mandalay, and Pixie Bob here. And what about Tora? He can be a cheerleader.

Fat Gum-Wrestling: Could you imagine someone trying to wrestle as big and plushy as Fat Gum? They're going to go in for the grapple and immediately sink right inside of him. Now the real question is whether or not it counts as a clinch or a pin.

Eraserhead-Artistic Gymnastics: I wanted to give him Rhythmic Gymnastics so badly with how well it fits him, he even has the ribbon for it, but it's a women's only sport in the games. Still, this fits well enough with his impressive acrobatic skills.

Edgeshot-Fencing: Perfect set up for a fencer. He can make himself as thin as an epee and extend himself out as his pleases. Plus, it's the only official sport that lets you wear a mask in game, which should be no issue for Edgeshot.

Endeavor-Boxing: While I could say that I think that Endeavor is smart enough to handle the sweet science of boxing, the real reason is that he is that huge. I don't even think he'd need his powers to demolish someone in the ring.

Gang Orca-Water Polo: While Gang Orca would kill in any of the water-based events, he would definitely kill it in an event where hitting something really hard is part of the goal with his strength boost. Seriously, his spike might actually kill someone.

Ectoplasm-Rowing: This sport is all about being as in sync as possible with the rest of the rowers. Why bother when you can have your hivemind of clones work perfectly together? And if any of them run out of juice, just switch out one of your clones with a fresh one, no one will notice.

Hawks-Skating: Like Sir Nighteye, Hawks just looks and acts like he would be a skater. It wouldn't surprise me if it was part of his training at the Hero Commission to appeal to a younger demographic. Now he can truly become like his heroic namesake, Tony Hawk.

[unanswered-stars]

This is for you @jules-writes-stories

Prythian’s Olympic Roster

Rhysand - Pentathlon: if he can’t be the best at them all he isn’t the best at all.

Feyre - nothing: let’s be honest, you all thought I was going to put Archery but Feyre has been a little too preoccupied with Rhysand ever since they got mated to really hone her skills to that next level. Not to mention that she is freshly postpartum.

Nyx - baby: His parents take full advantage of the Olympic Village Nursery (thank you Allyson Felix and Pampers) for some playtime between sporting events. Favourite activity, carrier naps during every single one of his dad's events no matter how much Feyre tried to keep him awake. He only wakes up to watch Auntie Nesta, much to his parents dismay.

Elain - Artistic Gymnastics: On a team with Gywn, after all that’s what those “pliable bones” are for right SJM? Nuala, Cerridwen, and LoA round out their team of five. Elain’s best event is bar. Gwyn is beam. Nuala and Cerridwen are Vault and beam respectively. And LoA is the star of the show, winning All Around as well as Floor finals. Team FAAFO.

Cassian - Rugby: this man loves a good team sport and personally helped most of the other males who qualified for the team. First all Illyrian team to make the Olympics.

Nesta - Synchronized Swimming: Taking those dancing skills and eight point stars to the pool. All Valkyrie team. Wings and water, who knew it was such a good combo. She also qualified to be the female fencer for the Night Court due to the hours of practice put in being Azriel’s partner but declined in favor of participating in something that she could do with all of her friends. She recommended a Hewn City female , one of Mor’s younger cousins that she met during a Solstice Ball.

Azriel - Fencing: Being completely covered for his event only adds to the mystery of the Shadowsinger. His shadows like to do funny dance routines on his shoulder while he is in a match to distract his opponents. Truly he loves surfing but didn’t want to be in a different location than Eris for the duration of the Olympics. He caused quite the upset when he announced he would be competing under the Autumn Court his new place of residence and home of his mate.

Eris - Cycling Road: Of course he won both Road and Timed. This is coming straight off of his fresh Tour De France Bronze a month prior. (Please look up Remco Evenepoel, he actually did that this year.)

Lucien - High Jump: This boy is tall and gangly and inherited his daddy’s thighs. He plays on the Olympic Refugee team because every court was fighting over wanting him on their team.

Tamlin - Climbing: Boulder and Lead. If his claws pop out and help him get just a bit of a better grip no one is the wiser.

Helion - Weightlifting: It’s all in the thighs.

Thesan - cheerleader: For his lover who is the team captain for the Dawn Court Male volleyball team. Thesan always wears long layers, hat, and sunglasses in hopes of not being noticed but he can’t help but emitting a soft glow every time his lover encourages and hypes up the other players on his team.

Kallias - refuses to participate in Summer sports off of principle but is the biggest fan during Viviana’s event. As soon as she is done competing he whisks her away to see the sights and sounds of Paris.

Viviana - Beach Volleyball: on a duo with her sister. She prefers sand to snow and Kallias teases her relentless about it.

Mor - Equestrian: Her secret manor is actually a horse ranch. She is a horse girly at heart and despite the Night Court uniform being black and silver hers is obviously blood red. Everyone keeps mistaking her for Autumn Court in interviews which makes her unreasonably angry.

Tarquin - Swimmer: preferred stroke is breaststroke but he is the IM king. Think Summer McIntosh/Leon Marchand.

Cresseida - Swimming: long distance queen, world record holder in the 800 and 1500. Oh and she does open water swimming too. The stamina and determination, yep. The Katie Ledecky of Prythian.

Varian - Synchronized Diving: tried to get Cressedia to do synchronized diving with him and Amren eventually had to break it to him slowly that they don’t have mixed synchronized diving events. He cried for a week after that because he loves his cousin and didn’t want to go to the Olympics without her. Aodh, Vanserra brother, is now his partner in the 10m platform.

Amren: sits in the stand and cheers with Feyre. Refuses to hold Nyx. The only time she gets out of her chair to stand and cheer is during Varian and Aodh’s diving. Everyone assumes it is for Varian but really it’s for Aodh. If Amren were to ever admit she had a best friend Aodh would claim that title.

Jurian - Penathlon: Actually a professional boxer but decided to do the Penathlon just to bother Rhys. Obviously he wins gold.

Vassa - Rowing: Women’s Eight. Team leader for all of Koschie’s girls. Koschie lake is secretly the most elite training ground for rowers. Koschie is the encouraging dad coach.

Alis - Kite Sailing: Because she is literally cooler than anyone else. Never wins but she has the best time. Her nephews can be heard cheering even from all the way across the water.

Briar - Judo: Tamlin is her trainer and she beats him every time.

Bryaxis - tried joining the rugby team because he heard Cassian was the team leader. Really just wants to be BFF’s with Cassian but the general keeps running away and Bryaxis can’t figure out why. The Night Court loses their game when Cassian spots him in the stand during their final and is frozen in place for hours after their game until Nesta can come collect him after her and the Valkyries are done their event for the day.

Nuan - Hurdles: Girl is fast and she’s got the jumps. She and Lucien poke fun at each other during their training on the track.

Madja does not compete and is a medic for literally every event.

Mirrell and Clotho are the judges of gymnastics, diving, and synchronized swimming.

Kier and Breon were on Male’s Double Badminton team. They switched which court they would play for each Olympics. The only opposing team was the Bone Carver and the Weaver. Upon their deaths Badminton was been removed from the Olympic roaster and their “legacy” was wiped from the ledger.

My OC Vanserra Brothers

Aodh - Synchronized Diving: Emissary of the Autumn Court living in Summer and has temporary citizenship. Agreed to dive with Varian in hopes of catching the eye of a certain Summer Court fae. He really could not care less about the Olympics.

Caradoc - Shooting and Skateboarding: 10m Air pistol. He could outshoot Feyre with his eyes closed. His style of shoot is exactly the same as Yusuf Dikec from Turkey. Skateboarding is a skill he learned from a very special someone and is competing in their memory. Everyone is absolutely terrified of him except for Gwyn.

Matthan - Trampoline: The boy has springs in his feet and his head is permanently in the clouds.

*special note from game hosts - the inclusion for Breaking this year is in memory of Andras who bravely sacrificed himself so that Tamlin would have a chance of breaking the curse and set into motion the events that has shaped Pythian today. High Lord Tamlin was adamant about honoring his sacrifice as “we would all be dead if not for him.” Break dancing was one of Andras favourite hobbies. Who knew that breakdancing to the fiddle could be so fun?

To all those we have lost in the past four years we honor them.

I think I got everyone but let me know if I forgot anyone. Have your own roster? Please tag me!

[rambleonwaywardson]

Clegan Olympics AU - "Comeback"

Read Olympics AU "Beginnings" if you're new here.

AU summary: Paris 2024 Olympics. Gale is on the U.S. equestrian eventing team, Bucky is a U.S. gymnast, they meet on the plane to Paris, and a love story ensues.

Author's Note: This is probably not what @avonne-writes had in mind when asking for a massage scene (at least not the beginning), but I think it worked out anyways. We take a deeper dive into Bucky's story and what it took to make it to Paris, and Gale is a good boyfriend (Wait are they dating? Neither of them know)

---

The world loves a comeback story. 

They love to watch a star rise from the depths of a sport. And they also love to watch them fall. Like pulling out a bucket of popcorn to witness a train wreck – it gives them something to talk about. Something to lament. Something to circulate in newspapers and on morning shows and around social media for weeks. Something to sell headlines.

“A shame,” they say. “So much potential. Lost just like that.”

“He’ll make it through,” some say. “He’s strong. If anyone can do it, it’s him.”

“Impossible,” others say. “There’s no way. He’s done.”

They shake their heads. They send their thoughts and prayers, empty words. They say they’re wishing you a speedy recovery. And all the while they’re talking about what the future of the sport will look like without you in it. They write you off. Done. Over. Forgotten to time. 

Nothing but a name that once was met with such veneration.

But then, you set out to prove them wrong. Even when there’s only a small handful of people still holding out hope, even when those people are just glad you’re alive and couldn’t care less about your name, you put one foot in front of the other. You grit your teeth and pull every ounce of strength from the depths of your soul and pretend the world doesn’t matter. Pretend you can’t hear what they’re saying about you, about how disappointing it all is, about how there’s no coming back from a catastrophe like that — pretend you can’t hear those cynical, whispered words, even when they’re needling at your skin, trying to break through. 

And slowly, slowly, slowly, pretending the pain isn’t there, pretending your heart is stronger than you believe it is, pretending you never had a single doubt — slowly, you rise again. 

Like a phoenix from the ashes, except the ashes keep trying to pull you back down. 

Bucky kind of wishes the reporters would just shut the fuck up about his amazing comeback story. 

“U.S. gymnast John Egan seeking another Olympic medal less than two years after terrifying high bar accident,” the headlines say. 

“Incredible.” “Inspirational.” “Insane.” “Invincible.”

Those are the words people use when they talk about him. After the accident, he was “done for.” He was “hopeless.” They whispered his name and grieved his legacy. But now he’s “strong” and “unstoppable” and “relentless.” He’s back. And that’s the stuff a good story is made of.

“It’s hard to believe he’s made it this far,” they say. “It’s incredible that he’s able to do any of this right now. I can’t imagine how he does it.”

And it’s flattering, really. But he’s well aware of the unbeatable odds that he overcame to make it to Paris this year. He’s well aware of the courage and the strength and the determination that it took. He was there. He went through it. He’s the one that screamed in pain when the world shattered around him and cried his way through grueling physical therapy day after terrible day. He’s the one that nearly tore his sports psychologist’s head off when he couldn’t get past the mental blocks, couldn’t push through the fear. He was there. He remembers all of it in more detail than he wishes were possible. He remembers every gasp, every drop of sweat, every skill that he had to relearn, every landing that he prayed he’d stick. 

It’s all in his head, and he’s fought hard to keep his head on straight in spite of it. He doesn’t need it thrown in his face, too. 

But he’s learned to deal with it. He’s learned to smile to the reporters and answer their questions and move on. Because it’s part of him now, and he has to accept that. That’s the price he has to pay for living and breathing this sport that he loves.

–

It’s only the day after opening ceremonies, but Bucky feels like he’s been here for weeks even though he has several days of competition left. A big meet is always a strange limbo for him — feeling like he’s going at full speed, unable to catch his breath, even as he feels like it’s dragging on, no end in sight. That feeling has been worse this season. 

His whole body is exhausted; he’s used to that. His left leg is sore, though, like it has been at every meet this year. He’s gotten used to that, too; he’s not sure it’ll ever be 100% again. But he keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop. He feels too lucky, being here, regardless of how much of himself he poured into his comeback. It feels too fast, too easy, like he shouldn’t have gotten this far but instead should’ve been stopped at the gate, told ‘sorry, you don’t belong here anymore.’ He might as well have sold his soul to get himself here, and he keeps waiting for someone to tell him his time is up. 

He keeps waiting for his leg to give out. 

He checks his brace again, under his pants. It’s still secure, just like it was when he checked it two minutes ago, and two minutes before that. He shakes his head and curses the universe for assigning the high bar as his last event today. 

Bucky has had a phenomenal qualifying round, as have his teammates. John Egan, Curtis Biddick, Harry Crosby, John Brady, and Alex Jefferson: that’s the men’s gymnastics team that stands a chance of putting the U.S. back on the podium for the first time since 2008, and their qualifying round looks promising. Particularly between Bucky’s floor and rings, Curt’s vault and high bar, Croz’s pommel horse and parallel bars, and Brady and Alex’s ability to seamlessly fill in the gaps in any event, they look pretty unstoppable right about now. They just have to keep this going for the finals, and hope some of them qualify for individual events and all around.

Bucky and Curt cheer loudly as Croz completes his dismount on parallel bars. The team swarms him as he leaves the apparatus, patting him on the back and telling him he did an amazing job.

“Can’t believe you stole my dismount,” Bucky jokes. Croz had perfectly executed a parallel bars dismount that, in the code of points, was dubbed “the Egan” the year before Bucky’s accident.

Croz laughs and bumps his shoulder against Bucky’s. “You just wish you did it as good as I do.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and ruffles Croz’s hair, saluting his team as he follows their coach to the high bar. He’s the last athlete on their team to finish their final rotation. As he chalks up his hands, bounces from foot to foot and hypes himself up, his eyes skim over the crowd of spectators. It’s nothing compared to the crowd for women’s gymnastics, especially just for qualifications, but it’s something. It’s big enough that he shouldn’t be able to pick out a face unless he knows where to look. 

And yet his eyes are drawn like a magnet to Gale Cleven – and wait, what the hell is he doing here? Blonde hair and a cheerful smile, undoubtedly fresh from Versailles where Bucky knows he was riding dressage for the eventing team earlier today. He’s looking off somewhere in the distance, beyond where Bucky is prepping for his final event. But Marge and Benny are on either side of him, and when Marge sees Bucky looking up at the stands, she excitedly smacks Gale’s arm and shouts, pointing to the apparatus below. Gale’s eyes lock right onto Bucky’s, and he takes a deep breath before he waves and yells, “GO JOHN!” Benny and Marge even join in.

Bucky blows Gale a kiss, and he finds himself honest to god grinning before the high bar for the first time since before his accident. 

The world notices it, too. 

“John looks almost excited about this event for the first time since his comeback,” the commentators are saying on TV. The camera focuses on him as he steps onto the mat next to his coach. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but it looks like that’s… Gale Cleven? In the stands. Is that who he’s smiling at? The equestrian athlete.”

The other commentator says “I think you’re right. You know, they’ve been spotted together quite a lot in the last few days. Including at the opening ceremonies.”

The Paris opening ceremonies had been historical, as the first summer games opening ceremony to take place outside of a stadium. The night was straight out of a fairy tale, with colorful lights all along the Seine as athletes stood on boats that traveled down the river at sunset, spectators watching from the sides and from above. They sailed in a 6 kilometer parade that ended right in front of the Eiffel Tower. Some of the equestrian team had been spotted with the men’s gymnastics team on the U.S. boat, all of them orbiting around John and Gale, who were seen laughing and talking, always an arm slung around a shoulder or a hand on a waist. Social media, of course, has been going crazy over those photographs.

So if the media wasn’t interested in John Egan and Gale Cleven as a potential item before, well, they are certainly interested now. 

“John Egan has been very open about his sexuality in recent years,” the first commentator says. “So one definitely has to wonder if there’s something between those two.”

But Bucky doesn’t care about that at the moment.

He raises his arm in salute to the judges, and his coach helps lift him up to the bar. “You got this John,” he says, and then it’s just Bucky and the bar he’s determined not to fear.

He breathes deeply as he swings himself up and around, forcing his focus to narrow to nothing but this moment. No past. No future. Just now. He takes that with him into his first release, a simple straddle. Then he works himself up to a Kolman, a backflip with a full twist. Then a Cassina, the same thing in a laid-out position. The Cassina is the exact release that almost ruined his life. But today he completes it, and he’s on to the next skill, and the next and the next. He can feel his heart beating through his entire being every time his hands seek out the bar, every time he completes a skill and surges into the next.

Somewhere off to the side, he can hear Curt and Croz shouting encouragement at the top of their lungs, as they always do. He can feel the bar gripped beneath his fingertips, and the air rushing by with every swing, every release, every flip. He can feel the exertion in his face and in his arms with every handstand. He can feel the tension in his legs.

But then his body is flipping through the air, his feet are hitting the ground. He’s staring down at them, pressed into the mat with his arms out to the side. He’s done it. 

It’s only qualifying, so he’s far from done here. But he stuck his dismount perfectly, not even a step off balance, and his teammates are going wild because they know how much every little success means this year. Bucky salutes the judges before yelling “LET’S GO!” as he pumps a fist in the air and walks off the mat, where he’s greeted with slaps on the back and tight hugs from team USA. 

Curt and Croz practically lift him into the air in their excitement, and Bucky’s eyes catch Gale’s again. He’s right in the front of the grandstand with Marge and Benny, and they’re on their feet, waving their arms in the air as they celebrate this small victory right along with him. 

–

“Are you okay?” Gale asks later that night. Bucky has been quiet for several minutes now, rubbing absently at his left lower leg and knee as he stares off into space. It’s a couple of hours after qualifications ended, and they’re in Gale’s room, Benny having gone out with some of the other equestrian team members for the evening. Gale is sitting on the floor next to his bed, his back against the wall, so Bucky can sit comfortably on the bed. Damn cardboard.

Bucky nods at Gale and tries to give a reassuring smile that falters at the edges. “Yeah, my leg is just a little sore I guess.”

He doesn’t miss the way Gale freezes, just for half a second. The way his eyes flick to Bucky’s left leg, the way he nervously licks his lower lip in concern. Fuck.

“You watched the video didn’t you,” Bucky asks. He groans when Gale stays quiet, pointedly avoiding eye contact. “I should’ve told you not to look it up.”

He shouldn’t have let Gale search for that terrible video that has no business being anywhere online. That Bucky tries with every fiber of his being to forget exists because, if he doesn’t, he might be masochistically drawn to watching it himself. And that is the last thing he needs.

But they showed it on the news when it happened. The whole gymnastics world has seen it. Everyone who cares to watch it has seen it. The whole world witnessed his downfall in disgusting clarity. And with the Olympics now, it’s circulating yet again. 

It gives curious and sadistic spectators a front row seat to the moment that almost destroyed John Egan’s career. He was at the World Gymnastics Championships in the UK in November 2022. High bar was his last event; he was so close to a world medal. But then the unthinkable happened. His hands sought out the bar at the end of a Cassina, a skill he’s been doing for years now, and all of a sudden, the bar just snapped in half. Bucky vividly remembers the sensation of his heart plummeting in his chest, the air whipping past his face too fast too fast too fast, the stunned silence around him as if everything was happening in slow motion. And then an explosion of pain that made his vision go white before there was just nothing.

The video shows him hurtling through the air off of the broken bar, landing in an ugly heap with a crunch and a blood curdling scream that supposedly came out of his own mouth. His leg can be seen twisted at awful angles as he lay unconscious on the mat, crumpled like a rag doll, as if he were nothing more than a sack of potatoes that had been tossed to the ground. Everything was too still, everyone too shocked to move. 

Then suddenly the world remembered that it was supposed to keep turning. His coach, who would torment himself for months over whether there was any way he could’ve stopped this from happening, rushed to him, followed by Curt and Croz, who would rarely leave his side through his whole recovery. Medics pushed through them all, saying they needed space. They tried to wake him up, tried to find signs of life. They lifted his limp body onto the stretcher. The crowd murmured nervously as they watched, wondering if they’d just witnessed the end of a record-breaking career.

Bucky doesn’t remember any of that, though. He doesn’t remember anything between the excruciating pain immediately following his premature dismount and waking up, still in excruciating pain, in a white hospital room. He’d hit his head somehow during the fall, knocking him out for two straight days. It was a miracle, they said, that he didn’t have any brain damage. But the same could not be said about his leg. He’d fractured his tibia and destroyed just about everything in his knee that there was to destroy. 

The surgeon told him he may never do gymnastics again. 

He practically spat in the surgeon’s face.

Because Bucky doesn’t know who he’d be without gymnastics. He doesn’t want to know. 

“I would’ve looked it up either way,” Gale says quietly.

“Why? I knew it would only scare you.”

“I don’t know,” Gale admits. He looks back up at Bucky, his eyes worried. “Everyone keeps talking about your comeback. Back at the top again after a career-ending injury. They talk about how awful it was. I needed to know what they meant… I couldn’t stand not knowing.”

“You won’t be able to stand knowing, either,” Bucky insists, picking at the fabric of his tee shirt to keep his fingers from shaking.

Gale frowns. “I’m not the one that lived it.”

Bucky takes a deep breath and looks Gale in the eye. “I don’t talk about it much.”

“I understand.”

“It was… it was a long process. Getting here again.” 

And then Bucky does something he never does. He tells Gale about what it took, what it cost him. He doesn’t know why. Maybe it’s a need for Gale to know him, that same aching need that he’s felt the last several days. Or maybe it’s just a need for someone to hear this story that he only ever shoves down, down, down where it can’t hurt him anymore. 

He tells Gale about the pain – physical and emotional – of destroying your body and your career at the same time. He tells him about the physical therapy, the occupational therapy, the weeks and weeks he spent just trying to walk again. About the way Curt and Croz refused to let him push them away, how they stuck by his side and went through all of the physio with him no matter how insufferable he could be, no matter how angry at the world he got. He talks about the months spent with a sports psychologist trying to stop being afraid, and how he still talks to the guy sometimes to keep his head level when the anxiety picks up again. 

He tells Gale about how excruciating it was trying to train again, trying to get his body to listen to his brain again. Trying to push through the pain just enough to keep going, but not enough to break. And how utterly humiliating it was at times, being in his old gym with his Olympian teammates but being unable to perform and land skills that once were simple. He talks about how he felt so much gut-wrenching guilt at the thought of letting his late sister down, as absurd as he knows that was. And he tells Gale about how he bailed out in a panic his first several times back on a high bar, flipping into the foam pit that was mercifully below him. He explains the slow, aggravating process of trusting himself again, and accepting the fact that he can’t trust anything but himself and the people close to him in this crazy, unfair world. 

He doesn’t even remember how he got there, but by the time Bucky has run out of words, he’s on the floor with Gale. He’s letting himself hide away in Gale’s strong arms, which are wrapped tightly around him, one hand on his back and the other cupping the back of his head. He’s curled into Gale’s side with his head tucked against his shoulder, and he’s fighting to make sure he doesn’t start crying all over this man’s shirt.

After learning about how hard Bucky has pushed himself, how unrelenting he’s been in his recovery, a part of Gale wants to say please don’t hurt yourself. But he knows he has no right. He knows firsthand that those words are empty. When anyone says it to him, a quiet plea to be careful, slow down, he laughs and tells them that’s not how horseback riding works. He does what he can to be smart, be safe. But in the end, his control stops at a blurry horizon where Lady Luck begins. He loves his sport, and he knows John loves gymnastics in the same exact way. It’s who they are, simple as that. 

So instead he rubs Bucky’s back, whispers to him that it’s alright, holds him tight as if Gale alone can protect him from the world. He gently kisses Bucky’s temple, and when Bucky pulls away at last, Gale pats his knee. “Come here, let me try to do something about that leg.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow at him, motioning questioningly to his bad leg. Gale nods and makes a shooing motion with his hand. “Yep. Scoot back, let me see.”

Bucky does as he’s told, leaning against the bed frame so that his leg is in Gale’s lap. Gale shoves up the leg of Bucky’s sweatpants, and then there’s surprisingly strong, warm hands on his skin, working at the sore muscles in his lower leg and around his knee. 

“Oh fuck,” Bucky groans, letting his weight collapse against the side of the bed.

Gale smirks at him. “What? Is it that surprising that I can give a massage?” he asks. Bucky shrugs, and Gale shakes his head at him. “I’m a horseback rider. My body’s been acting like it’s 45 since I was 20.”

“I didn’t know it was that hard on the body,” Bucky admits. 

Gale laughs mirthlessly as his palm presses up the side of Bucky’s leg, damn near making him moan again. “It is,” Gale explains. “People who don’t ride never really notice how hard the rider has to work. How much stress and strain it puts the body through. Not to mention the way horses can throw you around like you’re nothing.”

“Have you ever been hurt?” Bucky asks. “Badly?”

“I have,” Gale says easily. He looks at Bucky with a wan smile. “Not as bad as you. But I’ve broken my wrist, had my fair share of concussions. I took a hard fall when I was about 18, right after I started college. Fucked up my back real bad. It was one of those injuries where not even the doctors were sure what went wrong, you know? MRIs showed what looked like a stress fracture, but it was strange for that to happen from blunt force trauma like that. I’ve had chronic back pain ever since. Couldn’t even breathe without pain for weeks. I lived on borderline dangerous doses of Advil for months.”

Gale sighs, flexing his shoulders like he’s trying to stretch out his upper back. “It still bugs me sometimes. There’s a lot of simple things I can’t tolerate so well anymore, or that I have to be careful about.”

Bucky blinks at him, tensing like he’s about to move away. “Then why the fuck am I making you sit on the floor?”

Gale shushes him and pats his leg gently before he keeps working at it. “It’s fine. You deserve all of this after today. I can sit on the floor for a little while, I won’t break.” Bucky gives him a skeptical look and Gale rolls his eyes. “Stop that. I’m okay, Bucky. Really.”

So Bucky relents, if nothing else because he needs the magic in Gale’s hands not to give up on him now. He’s curling his fingers, seething through his teeth when those hands hit a particularly sore spot, gasping when Gale sets to work on a knot in the muscle. “That’s- that’s really good,” Bucky grits out. “Keep doing that.”

Gale is watching him carefully, no doubt amused by the actually obscene sounds coming out of his mouth right now, but Bucky doesn’t even care. He just focuses on those perfect hands, those long fingers, so sure and so deliberate and so soothing, as they work up and down his lower leg. He feels like those hands might be able to single-handedly take away every bit of pain he’s ever felt. And the way Gale’s attention is so wholly on him is intoxicating and endearing at the same time. Gale Cleven could slap him in the face and Bucky would say thank you, but here he is, taking care of Bucky without a second thought, like he actually means something to him. Bucky really doesn’t have the wherewithal right now to sort out why that’s such a turn on. 

“I’m sorry I missed your ride today,” he says instead.

Gale shrugs as his hands move up around Bucky’s knee, his touch turning gentle around the fragile joint. “It’s not a big deal.”

Except it is. “I’ll be there for cross country,” Bucky promises. “Maybe even part of jumping before I have to get back to the stadium for finals.”

“It’s fine, John,” Gale reiterates. “I don’t expect you to be there. And cross country is boring in person anyways. Spectators basically stay near a single jump for most of it, since the course is so long. You’d see a lot more of me if you just watched online.”

“Oh I’ll be there,” Bucky says resolutely, even though he’s admittedly terrified at the prospect of Gale hurtling down a cross country course, flying over jumps on the back of a strong-willed animal. “I would’ve been there today if it didn’t clash with my schedule.”

“Maybe I’ll give you an exhibition ride sometime.” Gale’s fingers stop working at Bucky’s knee, and he smooths one hand down Bucky’s muscular leg.

Bucky tracks the movement with hungry eyes, busy thinking about what else he knows those hands can do. “I know you’re joking,” he says. “But I’d like that.” 

When Gale glances up at him again, Bucky is biting at his lower lip, looking right at him with such earnestness that Gale can’t help but blush. “Okay, we can do that.”

“You know.” Bucky glances over his shoulder at the bed. “I’ve been hearing reports that these things are sturdier than we thought this time around. They supposedly hold up well to… extracurriculars.”

Gale tilts his head thoughtfully, his eyes flicking from Bucky to the bed and back. “Is that so?”

Bucky nods, biting his lower lip, teasing. So Gale lets Bucky’s pant leg fall back down to his ankle again, and Bucky crawls forward until he’s right in front of Gale. In one smooth motion, he practically scoops Gale into his arms and settles him on the bed, hovering over top of him. The bed frame holds. Gale grins up at him, his hand reaching up to stroke Bucky’s cheek, and Bucky’s hand settles underneath Gale’s shirt, finding its home on the side of his waist where it’s decided it belongs. 

“Maybe I can do this for you sometime,” Bucky offers. “You know, the massage.”

Gale nods, his cheeks flushed. “Yeah. The massage. Of course.” Then he pulls Bucky down into a desperate kiss.

---

---

Next part

Bucky's injury is in part based on Brody Malone, who is making his comeback this year after suffering a similar leg injury off high bar just over a year ago. I am heavily rooting for him going into gymnastics trials this weekend! If you're interested in what a high bar routine is like, watch his amazing US Championships routine here.

(Gale's back injury is loosely based off personal equestrian experience ✌)

[dylawas-reblogs]

Larian is wrong. Gale does not have a six pack. Gale does not have abs. Let me propose what's really going on with that dude.

First, let's look at the fighting style of the wizard. Yeah, they have a quarterstaff, but those are usually a last resort defense and not a primary form of attack. You still want to have the upper body strength to swing one around that's decently enough made to not snap like a twig if you've got to defend from an axe in a pinch, so they're not light, but it's not like he's bench pressing with the thing either. He's also not twirling it like a baton, or using it in a martial manner like a monk would, but that's where the other component of a wizard's fight style comes in; casting spells.

I'm not going to pretend I fully know/understand all the intricacies of magic and spellcasting in the Forgotten Realms, I play DND but we ignore that spell component bullshit. Somatic and verbal components still matter, but material? Ppf. Fuck that. All that is to say, take what I'm gonna suggest with a heap of salt.

Pretty much every spell in existence has a somatic component, meaning you move your arms and hands in a certain way to make it happen. So wizards may not be doing much heavy lifting, but they're still moving their arms a lot. Probably having to brace themselves to cast more powerful spells, too. And you can still very much build some muscle tone even if you're not throwing around bags of sand. Gymnasts and swimmers come to mind in this particular instance. Like yes I'm sure they train in other ways (and I know they rely on core and leg strength way more) but you can't tell me none of their increased arm strength comes from doing their actual sport.

And hell, as I was typing that out, maybe wizards do have arm-specific strength building exercises they do outside of spell casting. At the very least they're doing some hyper specific things with their wrists and fingers. Violinists do finger strength building exercises. That's totally not out of the question. It's likely, really.

Posture is also important for a wizard, not just because good posture keeps you alive in most dangerous circumstances in general, but it keeps you properly balanced to cast, and cast accurately. Given Gale's reprieve from the public eye for a year, though, this aspect has admittedly probably taken a little hit, and changes in posture can change the way a body's weight is distributed. And I want to make it very clear-- I don't think this man is thin. Especially not now, not with time and age. But I also don't think he completely stopped keeping up with his spellcasting, either. He'd want to keep his mind, tongue, and fingers sharp. This man doesn't do core exercises, mind, but he probably only spent the first few... Weeks? Maybe a month or two-- wallowing. You can take the wizard out of the spells, but you can't take the spells out of the wizard. He was trained to cast with efficiency and precision, and he'll keep doing that, so his posture, and therefore core strength, wouldn't completely lapse. In short, tummy plush, but likely not round.

Now, everything beneath the belly isn't as important for a wizard's needs, so I'm going to skim past them a little to get to my conclusion, but to summarize, if he has cake it's not because he was doing squats, if his thighs are thick it's not because of muscle, and we all know this man's knees are dogshit. There's a reason one of his canon lines is, "Given my propensity towards verbosity, it surely can't be a surprise that I have a practiced tongue." Suureee bud you can use that as your excuse for being a cunning linguist instead of your knees.

In conclusion, all of this is to get to the point that Gale does not have abs. Gale is, in fact, closer to dadbod, with some pretty decent upper body strength.

Oh yeah and he's hairy. I don't make the rules sorry.

[charmixpower]

what are your hc's when it comes to the specialists hobbies? (+Nabu)

i'm kinda sad we don't really know a lot about them.

YEAH!!! Or if we know their hobbies, WE NEVER GET TO SEE THEM ENJOY THEM??? Unless ur Helia. Pretty people privilege

Sky

Listen, I need you to look at Erendor and Samara and tell me if Sky has a life or any real time for hobbies. The answer is no he does not

Listen dragon equestrian is a thing that exists in the magic dimension and he loves it do not argue with me this man loves it. Riding a dragon and doing tricks, what more could you want out of a sport???

He also spends so much time teaching Lady tricks you'd think he was entering her into a competition. He's not, he is simply having fun

Sky really likes running, and walking. With or without Lady, he is content to run around with this thoughts. It's his favorite form of exercise

I think Sky would enjoy at least some of the royalty approved activities pushed on him, like riding horses and dragons obviously, but also dancing. (Though he would hate learning how to play an instrument or something that required sitting without movement)

I think he'd like the fake duel's and mock battles like fencing over real combat but that's just my version of Sky that lives in my head talking

I don't think Sky is really snobby about anything that isn't tea. Does he argue with other people about which tea tastes the best? Maybe. It's like part because he and Diaspro have opposite tastes in tea and they will argue about anything, part because tea was the only meal he wasn't being hovered over because it's supposed to be a bit more informal than a real meal, half because magix doesn't have all that good tea options

Brandon

He suffers from has no life syndrome too but worse actually bc he's had a government job at 17!!!

Does crafting and maintaining an Instagram presence count as a hobby? I mean I do this as a hobby so I'm gonna say it counts. Making thinking your hot into a hobby, I wish I were him

I have no clue if Brandon genuinely enjoys weightlifting or gymnastics or if he does it because it's literally required of him but I DO think he'd enjoy exercise in general. Like?? He's getting hotter, better able to handle situations, AND it makes him feel great. 10/10 he loves it

I think Brandon would enjoy calligraphy. I have like multiple friends who are on their handwriting bullshit and Brandon would absolutely be one of these people. He'd write exclusively in fancy capital letters while pretending to be Sky, but he also like genuinely knows calligraphy and enjoys it. No one knows cept Sky until Stella wants to write something formally and he writes it for her

Brandon is way too chill of a person, and while I think he's like naturally good at controlling his emotions I also think he does SOMETHING for mindfulness. Reads self help books, does meditation, something that helps him stay so fucking chill all the time

On that topic I also think Brandon likes psychology, like the "why do people act the way they do?" side. Just a little bit, he gets along with way too many insane people to not have at least a little idea

Timmy

He's the least interesting specialist to me in canon so he's where I'm on my bullshit. Listen man we don't need TWO computer wizs, we can have one computer genius and an engineering nerd. For the sake of everyone around Tecna not being the exact same as her AND for my enrichment

Timmy is obsessed with their air crafts. He can talk for HOURS about types of planes, the Owl assigned to their squad is literally his fucking baby and Riven is NOT allowed to pilot it EVER. He lost his mind just a little bit when he's got to pilot a Hawk with Helia, he was so excited. This is definitely his main hobby and why he's in the RF air force track instead of the engineering track, he WILL fly and nothing will stop him

If Legos exist in the magical dimension he's obsessed with them and makes the most insane builds and you know I'm right

Riven absolutely gets Timmy into lock picking. Lock picking is just a logic puzzle that also has a real life application and they spend so much time trying to pick difficult locks when they need a no think thing to do

And speed running, all the specialists have a tendency to just watch him play a video game stupid fast and it's group bonding

Shooting is a sport and one that Timmy enjoys immensely

Riven

Reading. No I'm so serious he's the character shown holding a book the most often. This man reads. Tbh he's probably reading about types of magical animals that specialists are called in to deal with, and their behaviors. That and like lists of forgeable plants

Riven also sews and makes his own clothes! Like it's a restoration thing but also Riven just likes fashion and has very specific ideas for clothes so he just makes them himself.

Riven is the most passionate about sword play and combat. Like it's genuinely fun for him, I think if everyone was set loose they'd drift away from being in the military except Riven. This is his passion. Survivalist stuff is also a huge passion of his. It's his concentration at RF I will never shut up about that hc. His dream job is dealing with magical animal threats in the wilderness, everyone thinks he's just a little insane

That and podcasts. Oh my god the podcasts Riven would have listened to in middle school, cringe worthy, they're EXACTLY what your thinking and it's terrible. Thankfully he listens to calming podcasts and like educational podcasts now, and the occasional true crime one

I'm not sure if lock picking is a hobby for him or if it's just something he HAD to learn, but he takes a lot of pride in it so I'm assuming it's a hobby. Riven likes logic puzzles and that's what lock picking is

Does Riven have an interest in photography or did he print off pictures from Musa's Instagram, the world may never know

Helia

We know the most about his hobbies. Painting, origami, and poetry. Helia is well and truly vibing, and by that I mean I bet you he spends hours agonizing about every detail <3

He probably also has a bullet journal, it's the vibes, do you understand where I'm coming from?

I think Helia would be super into general DIY in every area and at one point he gets Timmy into helping refurbish a chair he found, sometimes he just wants to work on something and that something is a chair he picked up off the curb

Helia definitely picked up how to use his string gloves for fun and to have a body active hobby and he loves it? I think Helia would really enjoy doing things that challenge him and he has the most esoteric weapon so it fits

I also think Helia's glove string weapon is as much of a weapon as it can be used for string art? I think he'd like string art

Helia can parkour and that's on wanting to get the PERFECT angle for his reference piece and know he's 40 ft in the air, Saladin slowly lost his mind when he adopted Helia after his parents died because the kid would not stop climbing on RF

Helia is also a chronic people watcher. At least 70% time when he's people watching he's also drawing them but sometimes he's too tired for that XD

Nabu

Learning about his hyper fixation magic. Listen this man will DEMOLISH a library in a week to learn about the intricacies of runic magic, he is vibrating in his shoes

Okay I know Timmy is the one who you'd assume would like this the most, but I think if you put a ttrpg in front of Nabu he'd fucking love it??? He would either spend 2 million hours world building as the DM or get way into role playing

I think Nabu spends a lot more time fucking around and having fun with his magic than most magic users. Like learning how to make small intricate beautiful things with his magic. I definitely think there would be an art form based around magic that Nabu would be super into that

Nabu absolutely is a history buff too. Like knows about ancient techniques for making things off the top of his head can list most major developments in each century when prompted history buff and I love him

He probably also has a rock collection, this man is autistic and we have rock collections. Sometimes the rocks are magically and that's always exciting

Nabu and Flora spending hours researching a random ass specific phenomenon and having the time of their lives

[yuinterrobangapologist]

Batfam members by which obscure Olympic Sport(s) they would be (its a stunt for charity or something):

Bruce: His inquisitive nature leads him to ask: Is there a limit on how many Sports You're Allowed to Compete In? Not for him. He wins gold in Golf, Diving, Badminton, Greco-Roman Wrestling, Ice Dancing with Cass (she's not going to prom of course, so this is his best chance at a father-daughter dance) BMX Racing, Men's Skeet (he has nothing against sport shooting! Honest!), Dressage, and Weightlifting (wait? 860 KILOS??), and Beach Volleyball (Dick is his partner). In fact, he already did sports with Dick and Cass! Why not all his kids! Badminton with Bette (she's basically his niece, come on now), Tennis with Jason, Luge with Tim (Tim literally falls asleep on top of him), and 3x3 Basketball with Damian and Duke.

Kate: Kate runs a poll on twitter asking for the "Straightest sport possible" and that's how she ends up doing a fucking 50 kilometer race walk. Why the fuck is walking an Olympic Sport?? I don't know Kathy, its for charity, just do it please. So for one day, Kate turns into Karen, and speed walks 3. Fucking. Hours. Kate is tempted to melt her Bronze of course its fucking bronze medal down into parts for nose piercings out of malic

Luke: Obvs wants to go into a combat sport. Which is why Dick purposefully tells he he wouldn't be able to do anything else, and dares him to try Artistic Gymnastics. He gets Gold in Rings and Silver in Pommel Horse and Vault

Dick: Dick wants to challenge himself by doing the other Gymnastics he's never done. So he signs up for Rhythmic Gymnastics! But...it's a women-only sport. Which is why Dick comes out as genderfluid and is a woman specifically for the games (cue Tim being fucking furious at Dick about enforcing negative stereotypes). And naturally, Dick wins. But also....you know...he kind of really feels...empowered with she/her pronouns. Like....it feels right. And thus, it took winning an Olympic Sport for Dick to realize he was bigender all along.

Bette: She's like actually a Tennis player, so that. Also, she idolizes Dick and wants to impress him with her super good Gymnastics skills. After winning the gold she bites it in tradition, and it actually bends. She actually ended up with a fucking poorly made tin medal fuck this is so embarrassing noone look at me

Babs: Curling, another weird fucking sport. It's basically like shuffleboard on ice. And honestly, like, its not an athletic sport. Honestly, you probably could do it in a wheelchair. And a huge part of it is technique and intellect. It was MADE for Oracle. After she wins Tesla reachers out for a sponsorship deal to make a robotic wheelchair, and Babs makes a working spaceship just to fucking spite Elon. She also hacks X and removes all the X branding, literally turning it back into Twitter.

Jason: I kid you not, in 2024 they will add competitive breakdancing To the Summer games. Jason is on the first U.S. team. It...you know there were worse ways to make money on the streets than street performing...and you know...it was fun too...I made like $74 one day outside an iHop. No shit fuck Babs don't look for it please don't fuck no please

Tim: Skateboarding has also been recently added to the Olympics. Tim isn't allowed to put his Superboy stickers on it because Young Justice happen to be involved in several international incidents.

Steph: Everyone remembers Steph lived in Africa, but no one even bothered to ask her about it, much less ask which country. Ethiopia, thank you for asking. Curious how they offered her citizenship right after she announced her Olympic plans. Steph wins gold in Speed Skating, giving the continent of Africa its first ever medal in the Winter Games. (She mentions this every single time possible)

Dami: Modern Pentathlon is by far the weirdest fucking sport in existence, but Dami loves it. He gets to swordfight, shoot things, and most importantly. meet a horse.

Cass: Karate kata. Cass in a combat sport would just be unfair, so she does the Kata, just showing off the execution and form. Ice Dancing with Bruce, as mentioned earlier. Her outfit is based on the Black Swan, of course. Frustratingly Bruce is much better at it than her, and she's unsure why. Until it dawns on her she's competing and he's having fun with his daughter. After she stops caring about scores, they two get the highest score in history.

Duke: Artistic Swimming. 2024 is the first year men will be allowed. "No Bruce, I'm isn't going to use my powers to see easily in the water, god." And showing off his abs to that pretty girl in his Women's Studies Elective is definitely not part of his choice of sport. Nope. (She's turned off by his puberty acne, and Duke cries in his room for 8 days straight)

Harper: No Bruce. No Steph. Fuck you Cass. No. No. No. Hey Harper, just wanna let you know, as part of the charity thing, we're doing a gala, and Bernard's busy. Do you think Cullen would like to go?...Fine Tim, I'll do it, for Cullen. Harper of course needs to do something to make an impact though. If she's gonna do this shit, she might as well have fun with it. Which is why she starts a one-woman crusade to add a new sport. It takes petitions, conferences, and a few million dollars in charitable donations to the IOC...but a new sport is added, and Harper Rowe because the Olympic's first ever gold medalist in Sumo Wrestling.

[noneedtoamputate]

Band of Brothers Olympics AU - Chapter One

I don't have a great title for this yet. I was thinking about The Vault in Our Stars, a pun on another Shakespeare quote to go along with Band of Brothers. If you have any ideas, please let me know.

This came out of my Olympic obesession, and I've tried to include a lot of details that came out of the Paris games in the fic.

I can't thank @mercurygray enough for helping me flesh out this story and providing some much-needed details. She deserves co-author credit on this chapter, but any mistakes or sections that don't work are on me. And thanks to @shoshiwrites for beta-reading and telling me it was a fun read. That's exactly what I am going for with this fic.

Hope you all enjoy!

Tuesday, July 23, 2024

Five days before Opening Ceremony

Four of the five members of the United States men’s gymnastics team lounged in the larger of the two bedrooms in their Olympic Village suite after their designated practice time. Harry Welsh texted his girlfriend, Kitty Grogan, a member of the U.S. women’s gymnastics team and America’s current sweetheart. High bar specialist George Luz balanced a plate of French baked goods on his lap. Team himbo Floyd Talbert read the newest issue of Field and Stream. Carwood Lipton, the youngest member of the squad, sat on the floor doing a v-stretch. 

“My mattress here is worse than the one in my dorm room,” Carwood lamented, grabbing his foot and reaching his head to his knee.

“Yes, but it’s environmentally friendly,” Harry pointed out without looking up from typing. “You can save the world or save your back, but not both.”

“Fuck, this pain au chocolat is good,” George said, his mouth full and his pronunciation terrible.

“You don’t say the last letter of the word,” Tab explained, hardly looking up from his magazine. 

“Whatever.” George considered the pastry again. “I think I’m going to record a review and put it on TikTok.”

“You know French?” Carwood asked Tab. It wasn’t impossible, but Carwood didn’t take Tab as the … cultured type. He knew Dick and Harry pretty well - he was a few years behing them at Penn State, after all - but he was still getting to know George and Tab. Both men liked to joke, although their senses of humor worked in different ways - in strong contrast to Dick, who didn’t really go for jokes when it came to his team and his sport. 

“Kinda. I’ve been doing twenty minutes of Duolingo a day for the past two months. I’m up to Level Six,” Tab explained proudly.

Harry laughed and shook his head. “And here I was thinking the only French Tab knew was mènage à trois.”

“I resent that you think that low of me, Harry - and that’s an important phrase,” Talbert defended, finally looking up from his reading. “Speaking of, any chance Kitty introduces us to her teammates?”

Harry put his phone down. “Kitty’s already told them all about you. And if that didn’t scare them off, she threatened  that if they so much as shook your hand, she’d send their names to the doping agency and they’d have to take extra urine tests.” 

“Shit, I wouldn’t cross Kitty. She scares the hell out of me.” George admitted, brushing crumbs off his chin. 

“If only the American public knew about the real Kitty Grogan,” Carwood agreed. Harry’s girlfriend had worked hard for the America’s Sweetheart nickname, but George was right. Her tiny frame and blond curls hid a ruthless sense of humor, a deceptively strong arm, and a very, very strong protective urge for the other women on her team. (Necessary equipment, she would have said.)

“Well, there’s lots of other women in the Olympic Village,” Tab said, unbothered and unashamed. “And I’ll need some more condoms, too, since someone -” he glared at George - “wouldn’t share.”

“Christ, will you let it go? Harry asked for mine first. And everyone got five to start with. If you need more than that, walk your lazy ass downstairs to the clinic. They have more there for the taking.”

The suite door opened, and team captain Dick Winters walked into the room.

“Hey, have you had any of these, Dick?” George asked, gesturing to the remnant of croissant on the table. “They’re really good.”

Dick looked at the pastry like George had just suggested he eat something toxic, and gave a brief shake of his head.“I just got through talking with Coach Taylor, and he was really happy with the way practice went this morning.”

“Well, that’s why I came to France. To make Coach Taylor happy.” Harry rolled his eyes. He wasn’t on the best of terms with the national team coach, and he wasn’t afraid of letting everyone know it. 

“Hey, Tab, you should ask Dick!” George suggested. 

“Ask me what?” Dick looked over Tab’s way.

“Can I have the condoms that came in your welcome pack? George already gave his to Harry.” Tab still sounded put out.

Dick looked even more offended about this than he had about the chocolate croissant. “No!” 

“Why? Did you use them already?” Tab sat up and looked at Dick, interested in his answer.

“No!” Dick shouted again, even louder this time. “And nobody is no going to need the condoms, because nobody on this team is going to have sex until we’re done with the competition.”

“What?” Tab asked incredulously. “There are 5,000 women here. And 5,000 men, if that’s your thing. Ten thousand people, all of us at the peak of our physical well being. And you want us to refrain from doing anything that requires a condom for a week?”

Dick sighed, more than a little agitated he had to explain this to his teammates. “We have a chance to do something really special here. I know it's a long shot, but we could medal. It would be huge for men’s gymnastics back home. We owe it to ourselves and our sport to do our best, and that means focusing. Abstaining for a week isn’t going to kill anybody.”

Harry shook his head. “Look Dick, I understand what you’re saying, but you know how superstitious I am, and I always sleep with Kitty before a big meet. She does this thing where … ”

“STOP!” interrupted Dick, eyes closed in pain. “Nobody is interested in what you were about to say.”

“I am,” Tab answered honestly, and George laughed.

“Look, I didn’t come up here to talk about condoms,” Dick said, desperately wanting to change the subject. “I’ve been thinking we should skip the opening ceremonies.”

The rest of the team stared at him.

Dick sighed before starting again. “I know we’ve all been looking forward to it, but it’s only two days before our qualification round, and we’ll be on our feet and it will throw off our sleep schedule.”

“C’mon, Dick. It’s one night,” George said.

“I know it’s not a big deal for you, being in just one event,” Dick said, sounding judgmental. 

George sat up straighter. “Yeah, I only won the silver medal at last year’s world championships for the high bar. I have no idea how I even got picked for the Olympic team, because that’s not a big deal.”

The three other teammates turned their heads back and forth, following the heated exchange.

Dick grimaced. “That didn’t come out the right way, George. I’m sorry. But you have to see my point. You get it, don’t you, Carwood?”

Everyone looked at Carwood. 

Carwood looked up to Dick, both as a gymnast and a person, so he was slow to voice his dissent. Truthfully, he’d been looking forward to the ceremony quite a bit, and the idea of not going for something like a sleep schedule sounded … well, lame.  “I want to do well, too, Dick, but there are so many things about the games that we don’t want to miss out on. The opening ceremonies, meeting new people …”

“Mènage à trois,” Harry added with a huge grin, and Tab threw the magazine his way. 

“You know what, forget it,” Dick said, clearly agitated. “Let’s just treat this like one big frat party and forget about representing our country and bringing home a medal.” He walked out of the room.

“Aw, Dick, come on!” he heard Harry call out to him, but he didn’t respond. He’d shared his feelings with his team, and they’d shared theirs. 

How was a captain supposed to lead when his team didn’t want to be led?

-

Dick decided to take his frustration out in the weight room, and then he got a massage. Back in the locker room, he checked his phone and saw Harry had messaged him.

Harry: Hey, you okay? We’re going to grab dinner, but I understand if you need to cool off.

Harry: I don’t think that conversation went the way anyone wanted it to.

Harry: They’re all good guys and they care a lot, but we all need a little fun, too.

Harry: You don’t have to be perfect, Dick. You’re already a good leader.

Harry: You know I love you, man. Kitty says she loves you, too (but not like she loves me).

Dick smiled briefly at the words on the screen. Harry was more than just a long time teammate. He’d been his freshman year roommate, one of the first friends he’d made at Penn State, and the guy on the team who understood him the best. They had shared wins and losses and ups and downs. Dick was even there the first time Harry laid eyes on Kitty, and she quickly became one of Dick’s people, too.

Thanks. Dick texted back. Grabbing dinner with Lew. Appreciate the invite, though. I’ll catch you before lights out.

He would need to apologize to them all later - he could see that now. Sometimes he forgot that other people saw the world a little differently than he did. But that was part of being a leader, too. 

It’s good to have people who care about you, he thought.

-

An hour later, Dick took the Metro and walked a few blocks to meet team sponsor Lew Nixon at a bistro. A second-generation tech titan, Lew and his sister, Blanche, needed a way for their father’s software company to save face after Stan’s headline-making fourth divorce. Blanche suggested adopting two Olympic teams that needed financial support and didn’t mind the backing of NixWorks, despite the reputation of its founder. 

So Lew met with men’s gymnastics, promising free housing for its national team members, as well as covering travel expenses and extensive social media coverage. Blanche did the same with the women’s rugby team, and both teams were happy to accept. 

Nix hated athletics - his idea of weight training was 12 ounce curls - and Dick had nothing in common with the San Francisco tech bro. But in spite of their differences - or maybe because of them - the two had become close friends during the past year. Dick appreciated having someone he could talk to outside of the gymnastics bubble he placed himself in leading up to the games. 

Dick spotted Lew sitting at a table for two on the outdoor patio, looking at his phone, a glass of red wine already in front him. 

“Dick!” Lew said, greeting him a little too loudly. Dick thought the glass of wine may not have been Lew’s first of the evening. 

“Have you seen the new dating app we created for the Olympians?” Lew turned his phone around so Dick could see it.

“Yeah. Light My Fire. Great name,” Dick said.

“I know, right?” Lew missed the sarcasm from Dick. “You know, because the torch and everything.”

“I get it,” said Dick.

“And my dad is a huge Jim Morrison fan. Once I told him the idea and the name, he had the programmers start working on it right away.” The waiter came over to go over the specials and take Dick’s drink order. Lew translated and answered back in perfect French.

“Dick, it wouldn’t kill you to try some new things while you’re here,” Lew said, considering his friend over the candle in the middle of the table.

“I don’t like sparkling water. I just want tap. And what’s wrong with ranch dressing?”

Lew tried to hold in his smile.“They call it still water here, Dick. And nothing is wrong with ranch dressing ... if you’re in State College, Pennsylvania. But you happen to be in the culinary capital of the world, and I’m going to let you in on a little secret,” Lew said conspiratorially, leaning a bit closer to Dick across the table. “Champagne vinaigrette won’t get you drunk.”

Dick rolled his eyes. 

Over the meal - Lew had steak frites, rare, and another glass of what Dick learned was Bordeaux, while Dick stuck to water, still, and a grilled chicken salad - Dick shared what had conspired earlier in the day. Dick would have never guessed it when they first met, but Lew was a good listener, always taking in facts and asking pertinent questions. 

Lew took a long sip of wine before sharing his conclusion.

“Listen, I know you don’t have beaches in Pennsylvania, but I’m sure you’ve held sand too tightly before,” Lew said. “I don’t think I need to tell you it usually doesn’t work.”

Dick couldn’t help but laugh. Lew was right.

“I’ve seen all five of you work hard, make sacrifices. You’re all ready for this. Give them a little space, a little freedom. This thing only happens every four years - enjoy it a little!” 

Dick nodded.

When he got back to the room, the team was half-watching an action movie dubbed in English on the television while Kitty was recording George eating another one of those chocolate pastries. Several sets of eyes swung to him and the door as he came in, just as quickly going back to the movie.

He looked down at his feet for a moment. “I owe you all an apology. I came on a little strong earlier, and I’m sorry. I’ve … got a lot on my mind at the moment.” The group continued to watch the movie, but George’s frown had softened a little.

“Here’s the deal,” Dick said in such a way that everyone turned around and stared at him intently. “We’re going to work like hell for the next two days. Then we’ll go to the opening ceremonies. And then we’ll kick some ass.”

His teammates look stunned. They never heard him swear once before, let alone twice in one speech. 

“Fuck yeah,” George answered back, smiling.

“Fuck yeah,” Harry and Tab said at the same time.

Carwood took his time. He didn’t swear much, either. “Fuck yeah,” he finally said, and Harry patted him on the back.

As Kitty recorded the moment on George’s phone for posterity, she knew this group was something special. 

[kittycatsheros9]

Ethan Landry x Cheerleader!reader

Word count: 1104

Warnings:stalker Ethan, male masturbation, male oral

Notes: hello. I created another work. Idk how I feel but it’s just such a good pair.

It was your freshman year in college, as it was for Ethan. He first saw you in Econ class. You didn’t know anyone and decided to sit second to the back row. While he picked the seat directly behind you. It was classic. How every college romance begins.

You had already been seated when Ethan was walking up to find a seat. He saw you focused on your phone. You gave him the perfect opportunity to study your appearance. Your gorgeous face with doe eyes and full lips. Hair was in a half up half down claw clip style.

“Wow” Did he say that out loud? Yes he did. You looked up off your phone to find his gaze, already looking at you. A toothy smile was your first movement towards him.

“Hey” You had told him with confidence.

He could tell you carried yourself with love and positive energy. It made him want to be around you 24 hours a day for the whole 7 days of the week. He would not have any cons with that idea.

“Oh hey” Ethan had responded to you while finding his seat directly behind you. His response didn’t carry that confidence you do, which made him a little self conscious. You turned your body around so you could be face to face. Still smiling. Ethan was curious about you and followed up his lousy response with a question.

“So what brought you to Blackmore University?”

Setting both of your elbows onto his part of the desk. Now each palm holding your cheeks. This act made Ethan blush. He had only met you literally three minutes ago and he’s so focused on your beauty. Staring from your eyes to lips, waiting for a response.

“I’m glad you asked, because I love talking about my passions. From the age of like 6, I think, I started doing gymnastics. And then at age 10 I quit, got sorta bored of it and changed my sport. I went into cheerleading and from age 10 to now, that’s what I have been doing.”

“But the most important part I had gotten a scholarship for cheerleading my senior year of high school. Now I will be cheerleading here”

Hold on. Wait a minute. Ethan back tracked your speech. Cheerleading, he begin thinking. As in little outfits and high ponytails. He was already fantasizing about what you looked like in the uniform. Before getting too far into his head, Ethan had came back to your presence.

“Oh that’s really cool”

After that first conversation you two had, he always went to the football games. He liked the sight of you in a skirt and top too tight. Left little to the imagination. And of course Ethan would sneak a photo of you here and there. He kept them in his photo album along with photos you posted on Instagram. Containing your bikini pics and cheerleading pics.

What he used them for was on the sexual side. He was always scared to actually hang out with you outside of Econ class. After all, you could reject him and no more little conversations during class. So he was on the safe side.

Stalking up all your photos and when alone using them for good use. He would be alone, Chad out with his friend group. Always at some stupid frat party.

Ethan laying alone on top of his bed. Pants and boxers down to his thighs. One hand holding his phone and the other stroking his dick. Looking at a photo of you smiling and in a hot tub. No matter what you were doing, you looked pretty doing it.

He spit into is hand. Needing to lubricate his length. Eye lids heavy and trying to keep looking at your photos. But soon failing and dropping his phone to the side of him.

Closing his eyes.

He saw you. You were doing something so dirty. Only between you and Ethan. Instead of Ethan’s hand stroking up and down, it was yours. Your smaller hand trying to fully clasp onto his dick. Now bending down to open your mouth. Your tongue lightly licking his tip. He was already moaning so much, and you haven’t even fully put him in.

He looked down at you with his mouth slightly open. His eyes were heavy. He saw you smiling and looking up with your sweet eyes. Licking a stripe from his tip down to his balls. He pressed his hands into your hair. He never felt anything like this.

You sucked one ball, still looking up at him. And one hand stroking his dick. Moving your mouth to give attention to the other ball, you lightly squeezed his dick. His hands in your head harshly gripping your hair, but you didn’t mind. Leaving your mouth to now fully suck his dick. Giving him no time, you stopped stroking. Earning a whine and you moaned at the sound of him.

His sounds were so pretty to you. It was literally heaven to your ears. You had this nerdy and hard working boy to be so vulnerable with you.

You pushed down, his dick hitting the back of your throat. God was he big. Eyes watering while spit was coming out from the side of your mouth. You moved your head in an up and down motion. Wanting him to each his high. You needed to taste him and swallow his cum. He knew you were a dirty girl, but didn’t tell anyone. He helped you move your head, his hands moving it up and down faster. To his liking.

“Oh fuck imma bout to cum baby” he groaned. You looked up to him and hummed. Wanting him to know you wanted it too. You felt his dick twitch. Your mouth was on his tip but he pushed your head all the way down. Nose was touching his pubic area. He kept you still while hands grabbed onto your messy hair.

You felt him cum down your throat and swallowed what you could. He released his hands out of your hair and let out a long breath. You moved your head up to free his dick from your mouth. Letting go with a pop sound and giggling. You showed him your tongue. You swallowed all of his cum.

He looked at your spit covered face and gave you a smile. Reaching your waist to hug you.

“You’re such a good girl. You do so well every time”.

He opened his eyes.

His cum all over his hand and lower stomach. You weren’t there. You were never there. Ethan was fucked.