#i am so putting jon in a box and shaking him but then cuddling him in a chaste but loving way

[confusedfeelsfangirl]

Not being able to search a new interests tags so as to not encounter spoilers is a specific type of anguish for me.

[smoooothoperator]

Stronger(Lando Norris)

a/n: a little Sochi GP imagine... just to get it put of the heart. If you want more imagine like this let me know

The week started nice, a little bit rainy, but nice. We arrived at the airport early, so he bought us two coffees while we waited for the plane and the rest of the crew.

"Are you nervous?" Inasked him looking how his leg started to bounce while we were sitting. "Why do you think so?". "Lando, please. I know you". He sighed and looked at the floor, bitting his lip and then looking at me. "There's a lot of rain in Sochi. I used to be exited with rainy races, even the fans loved them. But... since Spa...". "You are afraid after the crash". He nodded with his head and looked again at the floor. "Hey, it's alright. Now the FIA knows what to do, I hope so. But don't be worried"

That was the start of the race week. He was worried. I was worried. Everybody were worried. When we arrived at the hotel the first thing I did was stare out of the window, looking the rain drops making their own race to see which one arrive at the bottom of the glass first. Lando lid on out bed, looking at the ceiling and sighing nervous.

"It's going to be the best race week. I swear it" I whispered, looking at him and walking near the bed and sitting on it, putting my hand on Lando's chest. He took my hand and squeezed it, sighing and then looking at me. "Come on, love. You have to go to the track"

He stood up and packed his backpack with his and mine things and grabbed my hand walking out of the room. We greeted everyone who wavef to us and stepped into the rented car, driving to the Sochi Autodrom. Kym saw us and took some photos of us arriving to the paddock, with our hands intertwined and smiling to each other. Charlotte and Jon saw us walking into the McLaren motorhome and they hugged me.

"He is a little nervous, I'll try my best to keep him calm, but I don't promise if it will work" I whispered into their ears.

Lando attended to the meeting with his engineers and mechanics and he did some interviews with Daniel. The first day was relaxed, nothing to worried about.

But the next days were a rollercoaster. The morning started with Lando looking at the street through the window, biting his lips at the sight of the rain. The practices were nice, he didn't complained about the rain or the wet track.

He was doing fine.

And then on Saturday, when they announced that the practice of the morning was cancelled he lost his mind. He closed himself of his driver room, meditating and calming himself by his own.

"Don't worry, Y/N. I think he will have a nice qualifying" Jon said when he saw that I was looking at the door of Lando's room.

Then he opened the door and walked to me, hugging me and kissing my lips with a smile.

"Thank you for being here" he whispered and then ran to the garage.

I watched the quali on the motorhome. I watched Lando getting the pole position. I watched how he opened the door and ran to me, wrapping his arms on my waist and pulling me into him. I laughed with him, celebrated his first pole and enjoyed watching his smile the whole day.

Then the race day came.

It started as well as expected. He woke me up hugging me and kissing my naked shoulder m, cuddled my a little while and woke up exited. The nerves of the previous days disappeared and were replaced by a permanent smile.

"You were right, darling. This is going to be the race of the season" he kissed my cheek before putting his helmet on and walked out of the garage.

I watched the race on his box, with Jon and Charlotte by my side. We exclaimed happy when he started to lead the race and fought to keep his position, when he got the fastest lap, when he leaded the race again.

But then the rain came back. At the start it was light, barely detectable. But then it was getting worse.

"Fuck" Jon groaned.

We saw the screen and they announced that all the drivers were changing their tyres. But when they said to Lando that he should change them...

"NO! SHUT UP!"

I jumped surprised by his scream. The garage was quiet, looking at the screens desperately. Charlotte and I grabbed our hands nervous, looking slowly how the mood on the box was getting worse.

And then he lost the control. He lost tho control of his car and slipped out of the track. I gasped, seeing how Hamilton took his position, watching how Lando tried to came to the pit lane, how his mechanics changed the tyres. Watching in complete silence how he crossed the finish line.

The garage at this moment was a scary place. No one was moving, talking or blinking. All of us were watching how he crossed the line the eighth.

"Oh my god, Lando"

He stayed some minutes on the car, we saw it. He didn't want to get out of.it, even this engineer reminded him of turning it off. George came to check on him, and I thanked him mentally. He got put of his car and ran with his helmet still on his head to congratulate Hamilton, hugging him without saying anything.

"I'll go see how he is" I whispered.

Charlotte nodded speechless

I waled through the paddock trying to contain my tears, feeling my breath getting heavier, and walked into the building. Everyone there were quiet, and when I saw Steve looking at the screen of his camera I walked near him.

"Where is Lando?". "He... he closed himself on his room. I tried to speak with him but he was quiet all the way here. Go talk to him, Y/N, you are the oy one that can do something".

I nodded and walked uo the stairs, standing in front of his door and knocking at it with hesitation. I didn't hear nothing from inside, so I opened the door slowly and look for him. He was standing there, in the middle of the room with his helmet on his head.

"Oh, my love" I sighed walking to him, but he took a step back. "I don't want you to see me like this" he whispered with shaky voice.

I bite my lip and placed my hands on his helmet, searching for his eyes. I know he cried. And he had the rights to do it. I kissed his helmet and pulled it off of his head slowly. His hair was a mess and his eyes were red.

"Baby" I sighed and put my hand on his cheek, tracing the line the helped left there. His closed his eyes hard, trying to erase the tears that are trying to escape. "You can do it, baby. I am here"

That was what he needed. He wrapped his arms around me and hide his face on my neck, and immediately his body started to shake with sobs. I walked slowly back and he followed me without letting me go, and lied on his bed.

"It's ok, it's ok. I got you"

He continued crying on my neck and I had to bit hard my lips to not cry. The door opened slowly and Charlotte's head appeared, but when she saw Lando curled against me and his body shaking with silent sobs, she smiled and closed it again.

"It hurts so much". "I know, honey. But your time will come. And soon. You were made to be a champion. What happened today was a demonstration that you can keep Hamilton looking at your ass for a long time"

I tried my best to make him smile. And he did it. I felt his lips smiling on my skin.

"Just be patient. Keep training. Keep fighting. What you did today was a mistake. But everyone does mistakes. Schumacher, Senna, Hamilton... but they learned from them. What you learned from today is that you have to trust your engineers, listen to your team. They do the best for you, they want you to win. And I hope you apologized to then because you screamed to them". "I did before coming here". "Good. Now, change your clothes, clean your face and show me one of your smiles"

He looked at me, tired and with puffy eyes. I pressed my lips on his and ofelt how he smiled.

"Smile, baby. Show them that you are strong, that you have the most beautiful smile even if your heart hurts like hell. I'll be there by your side like always". "I love you so much" he sighed and a little tear ran out of his eye. "I love you too, babe"

I walked behind him and when we saw Charlotte she gave me her recorder, smiling and nodding to me. I thanked her and grabbed Lando's hand, showing him the recorder and letting him know that I'll be by his side. He went to the interviews nervous, trying to not cry, and when he was trying to do it y squeezed his hand.

"Y/N" I heard Carlos on my back and turned around.

Lando was doing an interview alone, so I checked on him one last time and walked to the Spanish driver. When I was in front of him, he hugged me.

"Thank you so much for taking care of him. I was so worried that he closed himself and ran to the hotel instead doing the interviews" he whispered on my ear. "It's okay. And congratulations for the podium". "I would have enjoyed better if Lando was on top and I was second... it was our dream"

I smiled ti him and he walked to another interview. I saw George and called him, running to him and hugging him.

"This is for checking on him before" I thanked him and walked away hearing him laugh.

The next driver I shared a hig with was Daniel, who walked to us when we were coming back to the motorhome. He first hugged Lando, whispering something to him and then he hugged me.

"You are the best for him. You are his world. Thank you for looking after him, he deserves it". I smiled and tightened the hug a little bit more. "You finally bonded and I'm so happy for you, Daniel. He sees you as his big brother and his so happy to help you"

Daniel kissed my forehead and walked away, Lando and I watching how he greeted everyone.

"Let's go home, baby" he sighed, grabbing my hand and kissing it.

[babyspiderling]

“Control” Steve Harrington x reader

Steve Harrington - Control Janet Jackson

Not requested 

First time I fell in love, I didn't know what hit me So young and so naive, I thought it would be easy

August 1982

“I don’t understand how you like this stuff!” I roll over to sit up on Jonathan Byers bed. “How do you not? It’s so easy to move to, he has a nice voice, don’t even get me started on his dancing!” He looks up from his workbook with an incredulous look. “Y/N, I get it, you’re a dancer. But seriously? Michael Jackson? I thought I taught you better than that.” I shrug, “Well, I happen to like Disco and Hip-Hop. Not everyone could like The Clash, or else they wouldn’t be so indie.” We sit and study, or at least try to. We eventually migrate next to each other, hands intertwined. Everything felt simple then. 

November 1983

Will had gone missing. Jonathan was up all hours of the night looking for him, and for some reason Nancy would always happen to be around. “Hey Jon, you wanna watch a movie tonight? I think we both need to destress.” He looks back at me, dazed and confused. “What? Yeah, sure.” He turns to look back at someone across the lunchroom. As I follow his gaze, no one but Nancy Wheeler ducks her head down, not wanting to get caught. Everything in me sinks at the realization, but I smile at him anyways. 

It’s been hours since movie night was supposed to start, and Jonathan had still not shown up. Sighing, I put away all of the snacks I had prepared, put the tape back in the box, turned off the TV, and went to bed, crying myself to sleep. The next morning, I don’t see Jonathan or Nancy until second period. I watch them silently communicate across rooms or hallways, Jonathan disappears at her signal, leaving me alone during lunch most days if not all. As Jonathan leaves again, not even bothering with an excuse this time, I break. I gather my things and blink away the tears, heading to the library for peace and quiet. I cry in a secluded corner of the library, muffling my whimpers with my hand. How am I going to fix this? 

October 1884

Jonathan didn’t want to go to this party. I didn’t want to go to this party. But Nancy wanted to go to this party. She wanted Jonathan to go to this party. That’s how I ended up dressed as Stevie Nicks, all in black and hair big. I had grabbed a soda, wanting to stay sober and keeping my mind in the right place. I watch Nancy and Steve have an argument, resulting in her white blouse to stain red. I had lost Jonathan not long after we arrived, choosing to people watch instead of looking for him. Feeling claustrophobic over the amount of bodies in the main room, I head outside. I watch the new guy do a keg stand for a surprising amount of time, and observe the costumed teens mill about the lawn. By the time I re-enter the house, Nancy is gone, and I’m done partying. I bump into a wall of a person in the hall, looking up at none other than Steve “The Hair” Harrington. “What are you still doing here? I thought you were taking Nancy home?” Rolling his eyes he leans against the wall. “Yeah, I thought I was too, until your boyfriend did it for me.” I gasp, hurt filling my chest. “Oh. Ok, cool. I guess I’m walking home tonight. Guess I should probably get started then if my ride is gone.” As I turn to walk out the door once again, Steve grabs my wrist. “No, there’s no reason for that. I’ll take you home. I mean we both get fucked over, might as well be hospitable to each other.” Nodding, I mutter “I need a drink. Fuck being sober.” 

I take another sip of “Pure Fuel” as Springsteen blasts through the stereo system. I felt the buzz kick in as I move out to the living area. As a bass and drum heavy song comes on I feel a grip on my hips. I throw my head back to see the offender, coming face to face with the “New Keg King”. I shout “Can I help you?” over the music with a raised eyebrow. Leaning in, he says into my ear, “I’m hoping you can sweetheart.” Ok, if that’s how he wants to play, then let’s play. I swivel my hips hard against him, his grip tightening. I smirk and grip the back of his neck and his left hand on my hip. Spinning in his arms, we face each other. We keep dancing together, intertwined in a sweaty mess. He moves us against the wall, leaning to nibble at my neck. I catch Steve’s eye, and he holds up his keys, time to go. Rolling my eyes, I push the keg king off of me. “Well, I’ve had so much fun sweetheart, but I’ve got to go. Have a nice night.” As I walk away, I feel his gaze burn into my backside. Linking my arm with Steve, I ask: “Alright big boy, where to?” We get in the car, and I rest against the window, the buzz wearing off, leaving exhaustion behind. I tell him where I live, and fall asleep. I wake-up slightly at him opening my door, and he picks me up. “Parents aren’t home. Key under the mat.” He gets the door open unexpectedly easily. “What room?” Cuddling further into his chest, I grumble, “Upstairs, third door on the left.” I once again doze off, not waking until morning. 

When I was 17 I did what people told me Did what my father said, and let my mother mold me

Summer 1985

“Y/N, you need to get a job. How are you going to get a car? Or pay for college? Your mother and I are not always going to be here for you.” I nod at my father's words. “Yes Sir.” My mother opens her mouth to give her two cents in. “Oh, Y/N, before you go, let me help you with your make-up today. You always have to be presenting yourself, you want to make me proud, don’t you?” I look down at my plate, nodding, and take another bite of my waffle. “Oh, and Y/N, maybe we can start a diet. Don’t want an embarrassing figure now honey.” Pushing the offending food around my plate, I respond “Yes Ma’am.” 

I'm in Control - Never gonna stop. Control - To get what I want. Control - I like to have a lot. Control - Now I'm all grown up

I ended up getting the job at Scoops Ahoy, much to my Mothers chargain. “Y/N, are you sure you can control yourself around so much sweets? I just don’t want you to get any bigger than you already are.” Desperate to prove my mother wrong, I eat salads every meal, run the mall during my breaks, and always make sure my make-up is immaculate. I squeeze into the uniform my mother demanded I get in a small. It miraculously fits my waist snugly, but pulls at my hips, and rides high on my thighs. The shirt is short and tight around my torso, making it uncomfortable when teenage boys stop by only on my shift, doing everything in their power to stay at the counter and oggle what the uniform brings attention to. One of them grows brave and leans over the counter, “Did you sit in a bowl of sugar? Because it looks like you’ve got a pretty sweet ass.” I turn red in embarrassment, cursing my mother for my “blessings” and her insistence on the overly tight uniform. As I do my best to deflect their eyes and serve them as fast as possible, Steve comes out of the back, his shift starting. His eyes flicker between my red face and the boys ogling his co-worker. He pushes me behind him as he confronts the boys. “Alright guys, how can I help you? Our U.S.S Butterscotch is really good, and two scoops will only cost you a buck. So what’ll it be? Oh, and Y/N, Robin needs you in the back.” I open my mouth to protest, but he just nudges me towards the door. Reaching the back, I look at Robin. “Steve said you needed me?” Her eyebrows scrunch together. “What? No, I haven’t even talked to Steve today.” 

                     .                                                                                                   

We all sit in the bathroom, bloody and bruised. Talking about random shit. Parents end up being brought up in the conversation. “Ugh, my parents want to control me. My dad wants me to be an adult, and my mother wants me to be just like her. She made me get that stupid uniform in a small, she wants me to do my make-up dark and perfect, she wants me to be the skinniest girl out there. I bet she wishes I was made out of clay so she could mold me exactly how she wants me to be.” Robin mutters “My parents just want me to get a boyfriend. Like that’s going to happen.” We both turn to her. “What does that mean?” Blinking, she realizes what she said. “Oh, uh, I like girls. I don’t like boys like that.” I grimace as I scoot closer to her, taking her hand. “Thank you for feeling comfortable enough to tell us that. Just do you know, you’re not missing out on much. Guys are bullshit.” Steve shouts a “Hey!” at my accusation, but I give him a look that says “Seriously? Be honest with yourself.” He raises his hands in surrender and turns towards me. “Alright, why didn’t you want anyone to get close to you when you first started working here?” I swallow thickly, thinking through my answer. “Everyone else has been in control of what happens in my life for so long, I wanted to take that control back. I thought, if there was no one to try to take control, I would never have to lose control. Stupid I know.” They both shake their heads at my answer, just sitting in peaceful silence until Dustin bursts in the door. “Guys, we’ve got to go.” 

After this is all over, Steve takes me home like he did almost a year ago. I rest against his window, sleeping off my injuries. I wake up as the car stops, but it's not outside my house. “Steve? Where are we? This isn’t my house.” Putting the car in park, he turns back to me. “No, it’s not. It’s my house, thought it would be easier to get you patched up and rested here than getting you home and needing to explain it to your parents. You can call them and tell them you’re with Robin or something.” I go to stand and walk into the house, but my legs give out. Steve picks me up from off the ground and carries me into the house. We patch each other up, band-aids here, ice packs there. We spend the night watching cheesy tape after cheesy tape, neither wanting to sleep and see the nightmares under our eyelids. As we both doze off, too exhausted to stay awake any longer, I feel Steve kiss my forehead and whisper “You talk about wanting control, but you’ve had control over me since Halloween.”

[rafecameron]

Am I That Girl That You Dream Of? (Jonsa)

Jon has had a crush on Sansa for almost as long as he’s known her, after helping her after a car accident he accidentally admits his feelings to her while they’re cuddling in bed and fears he’s ruined everything. (for anonymous.)

“No it’s fine Sansa, really, I have things to do anyway.” Jon insists, he doesn’t but it’s better to lie than just say he doesn’t want to go, he doesn’t want to hurt her feelings after all.

Sansa pouts at him one final time before letting out a sigh, “Alright fine. But you’re missing out!” She smiles at him and pulls him into a quick hug, “I will see you tomorrow.” She places a friendly kiss upon his cheek before walking away.

Jon watches her walk up to the old red car belonging to her best friend and climb inside. Jon had known Sansa since high school and had the biggest crush on her since around the same time, but Jon never got along with any of her other friends making it hard for him to see her nowadays. Her friends were quite loud and giggly and he’d even go as far to say as some of them were quite stuck up - not that he’d admit that to Sansa.

She had been bugging him all morning during their usual coffee meet up to spend the day with them, it was a nice summer day and the group were going up to the nearby ‘nature’ reserve, though the only nature you see are blackbirds and the occasional grass snake, but still it was a nice park to relax in and take a picnic. But Jon couldn’t think of anything worse than spending the day with Sansa’s friends, so he’d declined.

Jon watched the red car pull off and watched it until it rounded the corner and went out of sight, then he headed back home with plans of doing nothing all day. He thought perhaps he could do something with Sansa’s brother, Robb, but figured he’d be with Theon - whom Jon also did not get along with - and anyway, he lied to Sansa about having plans and he was sure Robb would mention seeing him, so he decided against it.

Jon’s apartment was hot and stuffy even after he had opened all of his windows, it was a pretty humid day and he was finding it uncomfortable. Even his dog Ghost was laying by the window on his side with his tongue sticking out, Jon was not envious anymore of the animals long fur as he usually was during the winter.

Jon sat on the couch with the tv on for a little while before he felt himself sticking to the leather and had to get up. He found himself cursing Theon for knocking over the fan last time he was here and breaking it, something he said he would replace and never did. Jon felt irritated all day, he thought it was from the heat but he couldn’t help feeling maybe it was a little of something else too. He had a strange nagging feeling in the back of his chest but tried to ignore it. He reasoned with himself that it was because he had lied to Sansa, something he hated doing.

Jon was happy when evening finally came and the temperature started to dip a little, it was still too hot for his liking but a breeze had started to pick up with made it a tad bit more comfortable for him. He re-filled Ghosts’ water bowl and put a few biscuits down for him before leaving the apartment again. He thought of taking the dog for a walk but knew it would still be too hot for him and he’d only want to go back home once he reached the end of the street. So Jon went on a walk by himself instead, not that he minded, he liked the peace and quite and it gave him time to think - though his thoughts usually always ended up on Sansa.

He wondered whether she had enjoyed her day and whether she had thought about him at all, before telling himself he was being stupid and of course she hadn’t. She thought of him as only a friend and nothing more and he probably didn’t cross her mind half as much as she did his. Robb always teased him about the crush he had on his sister and often told him to ‘man the fuck up and ask her out already!’ But he never did.

Of course he wanted to ask her out and he very almost did once. He was going to ask her to their prom in their last year at high school, but a boy in her maths class got there before him and she had been ecstatic at being asked, Jon had felt his heart sink at the idea of seeing her looking beautiful and dancing in some other mans arms. He’d spend the night with Robb and Theon drinking at home instead.

Since then he’s never had the courage to ask her. Clearly, if she was so excited about being asked by that boy then she did not have any feelings towards Jon, and asking her on a date would only result in her declining and possibly running their friendship. Robb said he was overthinking it, but that coming from the guy who never thought anything through and usually got himself into trouble wasn’t really enough motive to ask her.

Jon was about to cross the road and head back home when he heard the sickening sound of the squeal of breaks and then metal crashing into metal from around the corner. Jon takes his hands out of his pockets and quickly jogs to the end of the street to see what’s happened, it sounded like a crash but nothing too serious. He would go and see if they need his help and perhaps ring an ambulance before carrying on back home.

When he rounded the corner he stopped dead in his tracks and felt his breath catch in his throat. There had indeed been a car crash, it didn’t seem too serious but all logical thought left his head when he realised the car with it’s front smashed in was a very familiar red one. His feet moved without his say so and he was now running over to the scene as people began exiting the cars to inspect the damage.

“Sansa!” He heard himself shouting, though he doesn’t remember telling his voice box to make any sound at all. He reached the passenger side door just as it was opening up and quickly grabbed onto Sansa and pulled her out of the car, “Oh God are you okay?” He asks, pulling her into a hug, then pushing her back to inspect her, then hugging her once again.

“I’m fine, Jon.” She insists, placing her hands lightly on his shoulders as he hugs her close.

“I heard the crash and when I saw the car…” He pulls away again and holds her at arms length to look her over properly, “You’re bleeding.”

Sansa strokes one of her wrists which was causing her pain and gives Jon a smile, “It’s nothing, I just banged my head. Seriously it wasn’t a serious crash, we’re all okay.”

I don’t care about them, Jon wanted to say but didn’t, “I thought you could have been…Are you sure you’re okay? I’m going to call an ambulance.” He grabs his phone from his pocket and begins dialling 999 with shaky hands.

“Jon we don’t need an ambulance.” Sansa insists but Jon ignores her and asks for one anyway, once he gives them the destination and the details he hangs up.

“I just want to be sure,” He explains, “You’ve hit your head you could have a concussion.”

Jon takes Sansa’s arm and pulls her over to the curb and sits her down, sitting beside her and putting an arm around her shoulders, “Do you want me to call Robb? He could call your mother, they should probably know, they’ll want to-“

“Jon!” Sansa sighs, “I’m fine!” She turns to face him and lets out a soft laugh, her giggles usually sounded like love songs to him but he was too concerned to notice right now, “We don’t need to call anyone. Why are you worrying so much?”

“Because you could have beens seriously injured!” Jon argues, finally realising his arm was around her and moving it quickly.

“Yes I could have been, but I wasn’t.” Sansa smiles at him and leans over to kiss his cheek softly, “But thank you for being concerned.”

Jon smiles lightly and nods his head, looking down to his feet as he hears the sound of sirens in the distance. It took the ambulance another minute or so to arrive on scene but when it did he pulled Sansa up again and hurried her over to the paramedics, all the while she was complaining that she didn’t need looking at.

Jon paces in front of the ambulance doors as Sansa sits inside and gets checked over, they wrap her wrist up and tend to the cut on her head before sending her back out to him, “Do you live alone?” they ask her, to which Sansa nods her head, “Will probably be best if you stay at a friends tonight, you have a slight concussion but nothing too serious.”

“You can stay at mine.” Jon says quickly, the paramedic smiles and nods before going to check on everyone else. “Do you need to give a statement?” Jon asks, eyeing up the policeman talking with Jeyne and the other driver.

Sansa shakes her head, “No, it was just an accident, they just want to speak with Jeyne.” She smiles, “Thank you for offering me to stay at yours.” she adds.

“No problem…Ghost misses you.” Jon smiles. Sansa used to come round to his quite a lot and he always found her and Ghost cuddled on the couch, even though Ghost knew he wasn’t allowed up on the couch.

Sansa told her friends that she was leaving and was glad they were all okay before joining Jon once again and taking a slow walk back to his apartment.

“You can have my bed,” Jon tells her as he unlocks the front door and walks inside, “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Don’t be silly.” Sansa smiles, “I’m not kicking you out of your bed! But I also don’t want to sleep on the couch, so I guess we’ll just have to share, like old times.”

She follows him inside and places her bag down before hurrying over to Ghost who looked equally excited to see her. Jon and Sansa had always used to share a bed when she stayed over, they would usually put a shitty movie on in his room and fall asleep watching it.

Jon didn’t want to share a bed with Sansa, he didn't want to run the risk of waking up in the morning holding her to his chest with his boner poking her in the back, but he didn’t want to upset her so he agreed. Sansa was a cuddler, always had been and Jon had never minded before he got a crush on her, now it just made things feel a little awkward on his end.

“Should we order take away?” Jon suggests as he opens up his fridge and realises he needs to go food shopping, “We could get that pizza we like.”

“Okay, but we have to watch an awful movie to go along with it, that’s the rules.” Sansa calls back.

Jon chuckles and picks up his phone, dialling the take out place and placing his order. Once he heads back into the living room he finds Sansa on the couch with Ghost curled up next to her who was looking up at him with a guilty expression.

“You know you’re not allowed up there.” He says sitting on Sansa’s opposite side. The dog wags his tail and buries his head in Sansa’s side, knowing he could get away with misbehaving when she was around.

Jon and Sansa spend the rest of the evening sitting on the couch, watching movies, talking shit and eating junk food. It was so like old times Jon almost forgot the only reason she was here was because of the accident.

Once Jon was ready for bed he headed into his room and found Sansa sat on his bed in just her underwear and one of his t-shirts, her hair now taken out of her high ponytail and left hanging long over one shoulder, he had to look away and chew his lower lip lightly, feeling a blush creep up his neck.

“Come on.” She says patting the space on the bed beside her, “You take longer to get ready than I do.” she grins and pulls the covers back to crawl under them, waiting for Jon to get in beside her before pulling them back around them both.

She leans over and turns the bedside lamps off, casting them both into darkness. She moves up beside him and rests her back against his chest, Jon’s arm moves to rest lightly over her side, his hand resting on the mattress in front of her as he didn’t dare place it anywhere else.

“Goodnight Jon.” Sansa mumbles, snuggling her head into the pillows and letting out a light sigh.

“Goodnight Sansa.” Jon whispers back, closing his eyes but knowing that he wouldn’t be getting to sleep anytime soon.

He buried his face into Sansa’s hair, breathing in lightly, her hair smelt of coconut while her skin had the scent of vanilla. Jon could get lost in her scent for hours, he found himself nuzzling his nose closer into her hair and pulling her tighter against his chest.

It was times like these Jon could forget that he and Sansa were just friends. When he held her int he dark like this he could almost imagine that they were something more. That they were lovers, living in their apartment together and cuddling together after a long day. Jon often fantasised what it would be like to live with Sansa. He imagined coming home to find clothes and shoes all over the bedroom because she couldn’t decide what to wear that day and finding make up brushes on the bathroom worktop. But he knew he wouldn’t mind, because he never minded anything Sansa did, even if it involved leaving his house in a mess. That was when he realised he was well and truly done for, it really was something when a girl could trash your house and you would turn around and thank her for it. Gods I love you Sansa, he thought to himself.

“What?” Sansa asks sleepily making Jon jump and tense slightly.

“What?” He repeats, opening his eyes as he feels Sansa move in his arms, turning to face him.

“What did you just say?” She asks, brushing hair from her face and looking up to him.

It was then that Jon’s eyes widen and he realises he must of spoke out loud, “Uh, I didn’t say anything. You must have been dreaming.” He attempts a smile but even he knows it must have looked forced.

“I wasn’t asleep.” Sansa states, “Did you just say you loved me?”

Jon stayed quiet for a moment trying to think of an excuse but came up with nothing, he realised he was caught and that it was best to just finally admit things rather than thinking of another lie to tell her.

“Yes.” He sighs, “I didn’t think I said it out loud. I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” Sansa asks, a small smile appearing on her face as she lifts a hand to rest lightly on Jon’s shoulder.

“For making things awkward…Can you just forget you heard that? Convince yourself it was a dream?” Jon mumbles, averting his eyes from the girl in front of him and instead looking over to the wall.

That’ll teach him for laying and thinking about his undying love for the girl laying in his arms when she doesn’t feel the same. Next time just go to sleep you bloody idiot.

“I don’t want to forget.” Sansa replies quietly. He feels her hand come to rest on his cheek and she's pushing his head so that he will look at her again, before he has chance to make eye contact again he feels something soft against his lips, it takes him a moment to realise it’s Sansa kissing him.

Jon hesitates then kisses back, moving a hand to rest on the back of her head and holding her close. He holds the kiss for a while longer before forcing himself to pull back and look down at her with a questioning look.

“Took you long enough.” She smiles. “Robb kept telling me you liked me but I never listened to him.”

“He told me the same thing.” Jon replies, “No one ever listens to Robb.”

Sansa laughs lightly, the sound filling the room and making Jon’s heart swell, “Maybe we should start listening to him.” She murmurs before she’s kissing him again, now wrapping both arms around his neck and holding him as close as she can, tangling her legs with his, “And I love you too.” She adds.

Jon slides his arms around her waist, trying to kiss her back but he can’t seem to stop himself smiling so he gives in and buries his head in her neck as he hugs her to him, placing the occasional kiss to her soft skin. Yes, they should definitely listen to Robb more.

[junker-town]

NFL Dad, Week 14: Snow makes everything beautiful, even Colts-Bills

One father tried to watch seven hours of RedZone channel while parenting two young children. Here’s how it went.

The year my daughter was born, the ensuing winter broke me. Newborns have a way of giving first-time parents cabin fever, and a prolonged snowy winter (I remember three separate snowstorms in March) only worsened that feeling. Having kids changed me from one of those people who says, “I like seasons!” to one of those people who says, “I swear to God I’m moving to California.”

It’s three years later, and I’m still in the same dumb place with winter. Occasionally, I’ll pitch a Fermi problem to myself: How many man-hours have my wife and I lost to winter since we had kids? How many cumulative hours have we spent cajoling my daughter to wear her hat? Or outfitting the strollers with those comfy little sleeping bags that keep the kids warm? Or just squeezing them into the boots and jackets and extra layers that the season requires? I figure I’ve lost entire days (weeks?) of my life to swearing under my breath while wrestling little toddler arms into sweaters.

Then it snows. A wet snow, clean and pristine, that sticks to trees but melts in the street. The city’s pace slows, its noise muffled. It’s beautiful.

And my daughter, to whom we’ve read The Snowy Day dozens or maybe a hundred times, picks up a stick and, like the protagonist, uses it to smack a snow-covered tree. When we go back inside, again influenced by the book, she tries to put a snowball in her pocket. I wouldn’t trade the moment for anything in the world.

Except California. I would definitely still rather live in California.

EARLY GAMES, FIRST HALF

— I turn on the games around 1:15 p.m. It’s better to wait a few minutes to let RedZone warm up. At the top of the hour, Scott Hanson is always showing off the Octobox while opposing quarterbacks shake hands and sideline reporters give final updates. I’d rather squeeze in a few extra minutes of parenting, and today it gives me the chance to put my son down for his nap.

— The kids are worn out from my sister and her family visiting this weekend. My nieces are 12 and 8 years old, and they are GODS to my daughter. So on Saturday night we let her stay up 90 minutes later than usual, which gave her a chance to spend time with her cousins and feel like a big girl. The fallout is that she’s cranky as hell today, and not rested enough to communicate her feelings with words.

— Eli Manning gets a raucous standing ovation from the home crowd. The first offensive play for the Giants is an Orleans Darkwa fumble. Erick Flowers recovers the ball, though, which is probably the first Erick Flowers play that Giants fans have appreciated this season.

— Touchdown Josh Gordon! His grab evens the game at 7, and afterwards he sports some sunglasses on the sideline.

Why don’t more players wear sunglasses on the sideline? Everyone looks cooler in shades. (This is rhetorical, I don’t need to be reminded of the NFL’s stentorian uniform regulations.)

— HOLY SNOW IN BUFFALO. YES. GIVE IT TO ME.

watching the game http://pic.twitter.com/smbTyWa2Os

— Jon Bois (@jon_bois) December 10, 2017

The visibility is so poor that the broadcast shows an Adam Vinatieri field goal attempt from the sideline view, rather than the usual view from behind the play. Vinatieri misses, because he’s only the best kicker in NFL history, not a god.

With the miss, the game remains scoreless. This should be a wild ride: I took the Bills as three-point favorites today without realizing that (A) the game would take place in a snow globe or (B) Nathan Peterman is starting for Buffalo. Never bet on anything.

— I read my daughter a book while she poops. Since last week, she filled up her poop chart, so we watched Moana together. It was a hit, of course. But now the poop problem has been flipped: Instead of holding it in for days at a time, she’s eager to squeeze out a poop even when she doesn’t have to go, because she knows she’ll get a chocolate and think it will lead to another Moana viewing, though my wife and I haven’t consented to that yet.

So it takes her 10 minutes or maybe more in the bathroom — time kind of dilates when I’m sitting on the floor of a bathroom encouraging someone to poop — and when we finally emerge, Kareem Hunt scores a short touchdown to put the Chiefs up 10-0 over the Raiders.

— It’s Week 14, which makes it the fantasy football playoffs for three of my four teams, which means I am ready to be filled with regret about every decision regarding a flex spot. Right now that means bemoaning my benching of Duke Johnson, who scores on a shovel pass to give the Browns a 14-7 lead over Green Bay.

(pokes Packers with stick)

— After my daughter goes down for her nap, my body starts shaking with hunger. A cool thing about parenting is tending to every whim of your child while ignoring every fundamental need of your own body. I make myself a grilled cheese because we have no other food in the house. I swear we JUST got groceries. Why have kids when you can invest in locusts?

— LeSean McCoy already has 15 rushes for 97 yards, and seeing him dance through the Colts defense reminds me of the 2013 snow game when he singlehandedly carried the Eagles past the Lions. McCoy’s built a career with jukes, but there’s something more refined about his style in the snow: He tends to make a single, decisive cut, and it devastates defenders. It’s like a pickup game where everyone’s wearing old sneakers, and McCoy’s the only player who brought cleats.

McCoy’s work sets up the first score of the game, a short fade to Kelvin Benjamin, who holds on to the ball as he falls into a snow bank. After the score, six Bills gather around the spot where Steven Hauschka will kick the PAT, which seems ill-advised. Nevertheless, Hauschka’s kick is true, and the Bills take a 7-0 lead.

— My daughter doesn’t want to nap. I explain to her that it’s time to rest, that it’s not time to get up yet. She says no, but I’m firm. As I walk out, she yells, “DADDY! DADDY!” Then she screams it.

I don’t go back in. I am resolute. I am a rock. I have missed a cool Dez Bryant touchdown.

DEZ! #DallasCowboys http://pic.twitter.com/BlOwe31V0B

— NFL (@NFL) December 10, 2017

— My wife leaves to get us groceries. With our daughter fighting her nap and our son already asleep for the last 80 minutes, I am definitely going to have to do some actual parenting today. But the other option is we all starve, and I don’t want to hear that much crying.

— With 10 seconds left in the half, Adam Thielen catches a four-yard touchdown on a fade in back corner of end zone with the sun directly in his eyes. It’s an incredible catch, and the Vikings lead Carolina 17-14 at the half.

A few minutes later, I look at scoreboard and the Panthers leads, 14-13. WTF? They overturned it? (shakes fist at sky) CAAAAAATCH RUUUUUUUUUUUULLLLLEEEE!!!

By the way, any time a catch like that gets overturned, some Johnny Mansplainer emerges from his toilet home to be all, “Actually, if you read the language of the catch rule, it’s obviously NOT a catch.” YEAH MAN, WE KNOW THE RULE. IT’S BAD. EXPLAINING THE BAD RULE DOES NOT MAKE IT GOOD.

— My wife has barely been gone when my son wakes up crying. Usually, when he wakes up from a nap, he’ll chirp a little bit but take his time waking up quietly. Not today. “DAD-DEE! DAD-DEE!”

I’m getting tired of this phase where he only wants Dad, and never Mom. Like, it’s great to be wanted, but I’m starting to feel more like an abused personal assistant than a beloved caregiver. Ask for Mom! She gave you LIFE. Show some gratitude, dude.

EARLY GAMES, SECOND HALF

— With my son cuddling next to me on the couch, Cam Newton dances away from pressure on 3rd and seven and flings the ball to Devin Funchess for a touchdown.

.@CameronNewton making a little magic happen! #KeepPounding http://pic.twitter.com/QhXcdHNu6L

— NFL (@NFL) December 10, 2017

Cam may struggle with accuracy and consistency, but when he’s at the top of his game, there’s nothing a defense can do. Just tip your cap and take the L.

— Ugh, RedZone just showed the replay of the horrifying fencing response Tom Savage exhibited after a hit. Naturally, he came back into the game five minutes later.

The NFL concussion protocol would of cleared JFK to reenter the parade

— PFTCommenter (@PFTCommenter) December 10, 2017

So now TJ Yates is under center for the Texans, and there’s really only one rule to playing quarterback for Houston: Throw it to Nuk.

Crazy @TJ_Yates pass. Unreal @Deandrehopkins grab. That's six. #Texans http://pic.twitter.com/ljSpNybwpY

— NFL (@NFL) December 10, 2017

The touchdown gives the Texans a 16-13 lead, but no lead is safe when Jimmy Garoppolo is on the other sideline. That’s where he was when his team came back from a 28-3 deficit in the Super Bowl. He does his best work there!

— Browns?

The Browns have a two-touchdown lead in the second half for the first time in the Hue Jackson era.

— Bill Barnwell (@billbarnwell) December 10, 2017

Browns!

Yes, it’s the 4th quarter, and Browns lead the Packers 21-7. But it doesn’t last long: Brett Hundley capably leads a drive that ends with a short scamper by Jamaal Williams to cut the lead to seven. There’s still PLENTY of time for the Browns to Browns this up.

— With less than four minutes remaining in Buffalo and the score still 7-0, Jacoby Brissett scrambles for a first down on 4th and six to keep the Colts’ hopes alive. We’re gonna have a fun finish in the snow!

— My son has gotten antsy. After climbing down off the couch, he closes my laptop and says, “All done!” So that’s it, everyone. That’s the end of the column.

No, I join him on the floor for some coloring, although mostly he just takes crayons out of the box and puts them back in. I take game notes on my phone when I can.

— The Bengals are getting OWNED by the Bears today, and MAN would I hate to be a Bengals fan. The sheer breadth of ways that they can disappoint is incredible. Like, being a Browns fan is fine: you just lose. You can insulate yourself from losing when there’s no expectation of success. But the Bengals manipulate their fans with tiny glimpses of success, constructing a grand stage before falling through a trap door of their own design.

I have two friends from the Cincinnati area who grew up Bengals fans. One of them stopped following the NFL this year; he said the best thing about it is not following the Bengals. The other texted me after the Bengals lost that ugly, vicious primetime game against the Steelers: “This is definitely my last year watching NFL. Just can’t watch that shit any more.”

— The Colts score a touchdown somehow (look, I’m parenting, OK?), but a PAT is too risky. Chuck Pagano opts to go for the win, and Jack Doyle catches the two-point conversion. Bills fans throw snowballs at him, probably because the three-point cover is hopeless now.

But wait. There’s a flag on the play, and it’s offensive pass interference. It’s too far to go for two, so the Colts will have to kick after all. And let me just tell you with complete sincerity that this is the most exciting PAT I’ve ever seen in my whole life.

Oh my goodness, @adamvinatieri. Got it! ❄️❄️❄️ #Colts http://pic.twitter.com/mQAhS5jjBe

— NFL (@NFL) December 10, 2017

TIE GAME! The Bills can still push with a field goal or cover with a touchdown. GAMBLING IS GREAT, EVERYONE SHOULD DO IT.

— The Vikings have staged an incredible 4th quarter comeback, but Cam successfully unlocked FULL CAM MODE.

.@CameronNewton, are you serious?! Just watch. #KeepPounding http://pic.twitter.com/y8FiDBju91

— NFL (@NFL) December 10, 2017

— I haven’t mentioned the Lions-Bucs game at all, so here ya go: With the game tied at 21, the Lions put together a drive that ends with a game-winning 46-yard field goal. You didn’t miss much besides a FAT GUY TD when the Bucs ran a tackle-eligible red zone play.

— DeAndre Hopkins may have had a monster game, but he also fumbles with his team trailing 23-16. The Niners recover and kick a field goal to go up 10. Ballgame.

— With time running out in overtime, LeSean McCoy breaks through for a touchdown, the win, and the cover. SNOW ANGELS FOR EVERYONE.

.@CutOnDime25 in the SNOW... Unstoppable.@BuffaloBills WIN! #GoBills http://pic.twitter.com/WnNmeYQXXc

— NFL (@NFL) December 10, 2017

Gotta love a good snow angel http://pic.twitter.com/AD4VHZDl7B

— CJ Fogler (@cjzero) December 10, 2017

— Moments later, Davante Adams scores a walk-off touchdown in Cleveland.

.@tae15adams. For. The. WIN! #GoPackGo http://pic.twitter.com/oxnkqC24yz

— NFL (@NFL) December 10, 2017

I know I’ve ridden hard against overtime in this column throughout the season, but these two overtimes gave me extra snow football and the possibility of Aaron Rodgers coming back and running the table to get into the playoffs. I can’t be too mad about it today.

LATE GAMES, FIRST HALF

— Five games on the late docket today: Titans-Cards, Jets-Broncos, and Washington-Chargers have already kicked off, while Seahawks-Jaguars and Eagles-Rams kick off at 4:25 Eastern. I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that I probably won’t be taking many notes on those first three games.

Before the last two games start, I leave to take my dog for a walk (It’s my last chance for a clear head before I get mad about the Seahawks). My wife is unloading the dishwasher, and as I exit the front door, I see my son pull a paring knife from the silverware rack. There’s a reason this video went viral:

"let me see what you have.." "a knife" "NOOOOOO" http://pic.twitter.com/hJXO3YpO7Y

— no (@tbhjuststop) September 22, 2017

It is universally relatable to anyone with a son.

— Todd Gurley caps the Rams’ opening drive with a touchdown, and the Eagles respond by stringing their own scoring drive together. Carson Wentz caps it off with a short pass to Zach Ertz.

— While my wife prepares dinner for the kids, she hits the nuclear parenting button: She plays “How Far I’ll Go” from Moana on repeat. Now, I listen to the entire soundtrack from start to finish almost every day, but this is madness. We make it through the song three times in a row before she advances the playlist to “You’re Welcome.”

When my daughter and I watched the movie, she got upset when the credits came on the screen. “I can’t see Moana! I can’t see Maui!” I had to explain to her that the movie was over: Moana led her people on new voyages, and Maui went off to have other adventures.

It didn’t soothe her at all. She got up off the couch and started to walk away. As she started to turn the corner for her bedroom, she stopped and turned to me with her eyebrows raised. “Daddy, can we talk about it?” Wait ‘til I tell her about the internet.

— The Chargers are cruising. They already lead by 10, and they just picked Kirk Cousins, which leads to another field goal.

— Here are all of the notes I took when Josh McCown threw an interception with the Jets trailing 10-0:

Jets-Broncos: no

— Trailing 20-6 and facing 4th and four, Kirk Cousins has a receiver open but the ball falls off his fingertips, just out of reach. This isn’t Washington’s day.

— My daughter throws a tantrum at dinner table that is wholly the result of her exhaustion. She refuses to eat and demands that my wife turn off “Despacito.” BEFORE THE CHORUS. Come on! Can you just let your parents LIVE for four minutes?

— Trey Burton scores his second touchdown of the game to put the Eagles up 21-7. I like to make fun of Doug Pederson’s golf wig, but the Eagles went for it on 4th and one when they could have settled for a field goal on this drive. They have an aggressive game plan, and they’re executing it well.

— Before I had kids, diapers were the thing I feared most about parenthood. Which is stupid, because the thing you end up fearing most is entire world and your own mortality. Diapers are fine.

That said, I just changed a diaper filled with the scent of death and campaign promises. I’ve changed several diapers almost every day for more than three years, and there’s about one per year that makes me gag. This was it. A tip of my biohazard hood to my son for that one.

— Russell Wilson takes a deep shot to Doug Baldwin that gets picked by Jaelen Ramsey. Can’t say that I thought Wilson would throw an INT in this game before Blake Bortles, but hey, sometimes you have to ignore the tape and challenge one of the best cornerbacks in football by throwing a jump ball to a 5-foot-11 receiver.

— I play with the kids as Seattle finally puts a drive together at the end of the half. It’s a totally cliché act of dad-ness, but I chase them around as the Tickle Monster. In moments like this, fatherhood feels less like something I do as an individual and more like a series of shared experiences. I am Everydad.

Oh, and Blair Walsh misses wide right on 38-yarder in perfect conditions. The Seahawks trail 3-0 at the half. No problem, Seattle gets the ball first in the second half.

LATE GAMES, SECOND HALF

— My wife has the kids in the bath, and I take the opportunity to change out of my Seahawks t-shirt. Gotta change up the juju! When I come back out of my bedroom, it’s 30 seconds into the second half and — wait. Why do the Jaguars have the ball? AW HELL, RUSSELL.

Et maintenant c'est AJ Bouye qui intercepte Russ ! #Jaguars http://pic.twitter.com/hRK6l1em8n

— NFL France (@FirstDownFR) December 10, 2017

That interception leads to a Dede Westbrook touchdown, and the Seahawks trail 10-0. (I find that French commentary helps me deal with an opponent making highlights at my team’s expense.)

By the way, I have three Seahawks jerseys, four Seahawks tee shirts, and a Seahawks hoodie, and none of them are the prototypical “lucky” piece of fan gear. Every single one of them has been taken off at halftime after 28 minutes of ineffective running plays on 2nd and 10 before a two-minute drill to set up a field goal attempt.

— The Chargers get a short rushing TD following a flea flicker bomb to Keenan Allen. That makes it 30-6, Chargers, and I can happily ignore this one the rest of the evening.

— I have come to grips with a Seahawks loss, so I crack a beer to celebrate giving up. Wilson immediately hits Baldwin deep beyond the double coverage. An absolute dime of a throw, but the Jags defense stiffens, and Seattle settles for the field goal. Stupid Seahawks. Just lose! Stop trying to make me invested in this game.

— I help get the kids out of the bath and into their pajamas. I give my son his milk and read him “Where is the Green Sheep?” Sammy Watkins scores on a short pass play to cut the Eagles lead to 24-21, and my son hands me the book again. He wouldn’t sit through an entire book for the first year and a half of his life, and now he wants a reprise? It’s not even CLOSE to one of Mem Fox’s best books. “Seep, Seep,” he says. Oh, fine.

— RedZone cuts back to Jacksonville, where it’s 10-10. Wait, how did Seahawks score? What happened? I don’t get to enjoy the tie game, because the play is a 75-yard catch and run to Keelan Cole.

— I take an antihistamine, because sneezing fits are dangerous at my age. You can throw your back out sneezing, dislocate a rib. Getting old is the pits.

I come back to the TV and the Rams have taken the lead, 28-24. I only see a brief close-up of the guy who scored entering the end zone. It was a skinny player with a jersey number in the 20s. Did Carson Wentz throw a pick-6? That hardly seems possible.

Luckily, Twitter is always there for me*:

BLOCKED PUNT ALERT! And the @RamsNFL turn it into SIX! #LARams http://pic.twitter.com/CdxONvXdbg

— NFL (@NFL) December 10, 2017

*Twitter is always there for everyone, waiting to ruin your day. I deleted it from my phone, and the quality of my life improved dramatically.

— RedZone shows the Seahawks punting, and my blood runs cold. RedZone only ever shows a punt for three reasons, and two of them would be bad for me:

Huge return

Blocked punt

Returner muffs kick

It’s option 1: The Jags returner gets tackled at the 1-yard line, and Leonard Fournette punches it in on the next play.

I am only just learning that Bobby Wagner is out of the game with a hamstring injury. The Jags have scored three touchdowns on the three plays he’s been off the field. Cool. Cool cool cool.

— With the Cardinals leading 9-7, Marcus Mariota gets picked off, leading to an Arizona field goal. This is already too much information about this game.

— Carson Wentz gets hit hard while scrambling in for a touchdown, but there’s holding on the play, so it doesn’t count. Four plays later, he throws a touchdown on 4th down to Alshon Jeffery, who makes an incredible catch.

He caught it! This TD grab by @TheWorldof_AJ gives the @Eagles the lead! #FlyEaglesFly http://pic.twitter.com/6dOWB4Ne5m

— NFL (@NFL) December 10, 2017

The Eagles lead 31-28, and this game is delivering SO HARD.

— My daughter’s sitting on the toilet before bed, again convinced that she can poop even though she just did it a few hours ago. She wants to count all of the hearts on a house in a book, and she nails the first baker’s dozen. Then: “Thirteen, fifteen, eleventeen… Daddy, you can count the rest.”

I come back to the TV after putting the kids to bed, and the Rams are back in front, 35-31. Carson Wentz is limping into the tunnel, and Erin Andrews reports something with a look of gravity. It would probably be useful if I listened to RedZone with the sound on, instead of a playlist of Christmas music.

— The Seahawks, by dint of a bomb to Tyler Lockett bomb and a subsequent defensive stop, will get the ball back with a chance to win the game. They absolutely have no business being in this game.

— Chris Long gets to Jared Goff for a sack-fumble, and the Eagles get the ball with short field down 35-34. Time for Nick Foles to do some handoffs!

— The Seahawks don’t get an obvious call, and their drive stalls before it can really threaten the Jags. Then there are fights and ugliness that I don’t care to explain, defend, or even really think about.

— Sometimes I get sick of RedZone by the end of the day. When there are only one or two games still in play, RedZone’s assault of highlights I’ve already watched feels drains what energy and attention I have left. I’d rather have the steadiness of one booth calling a single game, cutting to commercials I can tune out.

So I click over to FOX for the last bit of Eagles-Rams, where the Rams’ last-ditch attempt to score via rugby laterals ends up as a defensive score for Brandon Graham. It’s a Pyrrhic victory for Philadelphia, which tightens its control on a playoff bye but loses its star quarterback to a torn ACL. The sky darkens over the L.A. Coliseum and the surrounding wildfires, creating a palette of red and purple that awes the fans.

Photo by Kevork Djansezian/Getty Images

It isn’t beautiful the way that snow football is, but it doesn’t need to be to inspire awe. In a way, it’s all the same: The sun sets, snow melts, bodies are broken, and everything beautiful comes to an end.