#it's from the coach outlet and I really want it

[gabekidd]

Trying to talk myself out of buying a $90 wallet clutch, but also... why shouldn't I?

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Jack Howl: Fluffy is Justice

Me, expecting Jack to be in a tank top and sweat pants:

Twst: HAH, you thought 😩

He looks so cozy! Apparently the patterns featured are inspired by Nordic ones. This makes sense since Jack is from a snowy region in the Shaftlands.

Rise and Shine!

Early to bed, early to rise.

Jack followed his regiment rigidly. He tucked into bed at 10 pm sharp every evening and rose at 6 am every morning. A protein-packed breakfast and a morning stretch, job, and weight-lifting session with Vil later, then he was off to classes. (Ace sometimes poked fun at him and declared he may as well be an honorary member of Heartslabyl.)

But sometimes life didn’t seem to want to cooperate with him.

Peering into a washroom mirror, Jack scowled at his reflection.

He must have been tossing and turning in his sleep—his hair stood on end. It looked as though he had plugged his tail into an electrical outlet, frying his fur.

The teeth of his comb wove through his mane. As soon as the comb retreated, the hair sprang back up again, as if deliberately defying him.

Jack gritted his teeth, letting loose a low growl.

Frustrated.

He checked his phone and nearly jumped out of his cardigan. He had spent longer than he had intended tackling his hairdo. If he didn't hurry it along, he would be late.

Can’t have that, Jack sighed. Guess I’ll have to skip fixing the hair today.

He laid down his comb and turned on the facet. Cold water spilled out and onto his hands.

SPLOOSH!

Jack ran his wet fingers through his hair, matting it with the weight of the water. Tamed, at least for the time being.

He blitzed through the rest of his routine, peeling off his pajamas and shimmying into his P.E. uniform. Grabbing a protein bar and his duffel bag--crammed full of his school supplies and his track and field uniform--Jack rushed out. No tardies on his permanent record, not today.

He was fast. A wolf sprinting, unrestrained, out of the Chamber of Mirrors and thundering down Main Street.

"Like the wind," Coach Vargas would remark.

"I have to catch up," Deuce, his fellow club member, would say.

"Way too eager," Ruggie would snicker.

"Jack!"

He came to a half at his name, his ears perking. There, standing by the statue of the King of Beasts, was a familiar face. You waved at him as he approached, a hand fiddling with the strap of his bag. It snapped against his beefy shoulder.

"... Hey. You're up early," he remarked gruffly.

"I wanted to catch you before you met up with Vil-senpai for your usual workout," you grinned. "Glad I did--I have something for you."

Reaching into your backpack, you produced a water bottle and a small container. Inside were sandwiches sliced into triangles: leftover canned tuna (courtesy of Grim), ham and cheese, and vegetables.

Surprise sparked in his amber eyes. His tail jutted up, wagging excitedly. "You made this for me?"

"I figured you'd need to keep your energy up since you've got a whole day of lectures afterwards," you said bashfully. "Sorry, did I overstep?"

"No, I... I don't think so at all." Jack cleared his throat. "Really. I appreciate this. I didn't pack any real food today. The timing couldn't be better."

Relief washed over your face. You offered the water and the sandwiches to Jack, who stiffened slightly when he felt the warmth of you grazing his fingers. He quickly pulled away, avoiding your gaze, and busied himself with shoving the snacks into his bag.

"Oh....!" you suddenly gasped.

"What's wrong?"

"Your hair, it's..." You gestured to your own.

"Yeah, I know it's a mess," he mumbled, his ears flattening in shame. "Didn't have the time to style it right earlier. I had to compromise."

You shook your head.

"It looks different than usual, but that's not bad. In fact, it's kind of cute."

"What? Cute...?" He scratched his chin. "Not sure if I'm getting it."

"Yes! It looks super fluffy, like a cloud. Or whipped cream on top of ice-cream or cake," you suggested. "And cuz it's sticking up so much, it's like it's inviting someone to come along and pat your head to smooth it down."

"Pat my head?!" His hands flew there, as if to protect him from the terror that was an aggressive head pat.

"You don't like the idea?"

"I-It's embarrassing!" he snapped. "Only my family goes and does stuff like that. I'm getting too old for head pats, anyway."

"That's a shame then. Fluffy things should be cuddled more! Fluffy is justice, after all." You linked your fingers together and chuckled. "Fluffy means plushies, blankets, and coats. All the things that make us feel warm and protected. It fills our hearts with happiness. You're the same, Jack. So... I don't think it's anything to be embarrassed by."

He stared at you, bewildered.

The sun warmed his cheeks--or were they warmed from within? And there it was again, the telltale way his tail moved, back and forth and back and forth, like a metronome.

"I... I guess so," Jack managed to say. “A-Anyway, I need to get going. I can’t keep Vil-senpai waiting.”

“Alright, I won’t keep you for any longer.” You gave another wave and a smile brighter than the sun. “Good luck!”

He nodded before surging off.

His face aflame.

Maybe being fluffy wasn't so bad after all.

[girlgenius1111]

when i break, it’s in a million pieces

alexia x putellas!reader

the pressure on r is intense, from her sister more than anyone. an injury pushes her to her breaking point. desperate not to let her sister down, r struggles under the weight of her injury.

-----

Something that was always said about your sister was that she pushed everyone around her to be better. This was something that you knew to be true on a whole other level. The pressure of being Alexia Putellas' sister was immense; not just from the media, and the coaches, and the team, but from your sister herself. She expected a lot from you, she always had.

Alexia knew better than anyone what it took to be a great footballer, and when you expressed to her that you wanted it too, she promised herself that she would help you get there. The raw talent was there, and with your sister by your side, it seemed to the world that you would be unstoppable.

It was your first real season with Barça, having spent the last 2 seasons on loan at Sevilla. It had been good for you, helped develop your skills and allow you to be independent. Now, at 20, you were back in Barcelona, playing with the first team, and with your sister, for the first time.

Your sister always toed the line between pushing you just hard enough, and pushing you too hard. Your mother often had to step in, and get Alexia to back off, just a bit. Not that you were on the team with her though, where she was the captain, training with her everyday, you couldn't really go to your mother for help when Alexia pushed you too hard. You just... took it.

It was a lot, several stressful months at the beginning of the season where you tried to carve out your place in the team. It felt like Alexia was breathing down your neck, always asking for more. It was an environment that you had thrived in, before. And then you'd gone on loan, and you'd learned to push yourself.

Alexia's pushing, compounded with your pushing was, if you were honest, too much for you. You could never tell your sister, though, not when she was just trying to get you to be the best version of yourself.

It didn't help that the media had wild expectations for you; they were expecting you to perform how Alexia had when she was 28, and you were only 20. Every mistake, every missed shot had media outlets questioning if you would ever be as good as your older sister. You knew Alexia didn't pay attention to the things said about her online, and you tried to do the same. You weren't as successful.

Things only got worse when Alexia hurt her knee. Your heart ached for her, knowing exactly the toll not being able to play took on your sister. Still, you were suffocating in her absence from the pitch.

You needed to be better, stronger, faster, play harder, pass more precisely, shoot right on target every time. You needed to be passionate, but not hot headed. Confident, but not cocky. You felt like you were being pulled in a thousand different directions; every move you made seemed to be the wrong choice. Your solution? Work harder. Train extra. Push yourself to the absolute brink.

Everyone seemed to realize that you were pushing yourself too hard. Everyone, that is, except your sister. She only saw the results, how well you were playing. It was like she was blind to how exhausted you looked. Your teammates tried bringing it up with you, and with Alexia, but you both insisted that there was no problem. Alexia, because she genuinely didn't think there was one. And you, because you would rather drop dead than disappoint your sister.

Somewhere deep inside, you had convinced yourself that if you weren't perfect, completely and entirely perfect, Alexia wouldn't love you the same. Your sister's praise and approval was something you'd always sought; only recently did it reach the point that you were willing to do anything to make her proud of you; fuck your body and it's limits- Alexia was counting on you, expecting things of you, and you were going to do them. No matter what it took.

-----

It made sense, then, that your body would reach it's breaking point. The load on you was immense; playing almost every minute of every game. You were overworked, but you wouldn't admit it. You'd gone back out for the second half of the game against Eintracht Frankfurt, dismissing Jona [and Irene, and Patri, and Marta]'s questions about coming off to rest. You had more to give, you assured them. And give it your all, you would.

You were on the left side of the pitch, attempting to dribble past one of the opposing midfielders. The tackle wasn't really very clean; she came sliding in towards your ankles after the ball was already sailing towards Mario. Still, if you weren't so exhausted and overworked, you would have seen her coming, and moved out of the way. Or, at least, you would have managed to move just enough that the tackle wasn't catastrophic.

Instead, she caught you just right, crashing into you so hard that your ankle rolled in a way it wasn't supposed to. You felt the crack as well as heard it, the excruciating pain that followed forcing you to the ground.

Your head was left completely untouched, and the ref let play continue, apparently feeling that the tackle didn't deserve a yellow. You felt like you could feel every nerve ending in your ankle being lit on fire, at the same time as a deep ache permeated out from the bones in your lower leg. It was unlike anything you'd ever felt before, truly. You were on your stomach, face hidden away in the crook of your elbow, as you raised your other hand in the air, gesturing wildly for help.

Your heart was racing, ankle throbbing, as you felt everything come crashing down around you. This couldn't be happening. How could this be happening?

"Y/n?" Ingrid asked quietly, resting a hand on your back. Mario had kicked the ball out, and the medics were sprinting across the pitch towards you. Ingrid was closest, and while the rest of the team stood frozen, praying to anyone they could think of that this wasn't as bad as it seemed, the Norwegian crouched down by you, able to hear the small, pained whimpers escaping your lips.

"Ingrid, help," you choked out, reaching blindly for her. She grabbed your hand, holding tight.

"The medics are almost here, just hang on."

-----

Up in the stands, Alexia sat, watching on in absolute horror, at the way your body laid on the pitch. She'd been much too far away to hear the crack, but she knew what a broken ankle looked like. Your reaction only confirmed it. She was gripping the arms of her seat like her life depended on it, barely able to tear her eyes off you when Mapi called her name for the third time.

"Go, Ale. Get down there. She'll need you." Mapi nudged, looking to Jana when Alexia made no move. Mapi was still on crutches, unable to grab Alexia and go like she needed to. Jana got the message, standing and grabbing Alexia's hand in hers.

"Alexia," she called, waiting until her captain's eyes looked up at her. "Come on. She needs you." With another tug on the blonde's hand, Jana got Alexia to stand, before she pulled her out of the row of seats, and towards the stairs.

-----

The medics had maneuvered you onto your back, before they asked you what hurt. They already knew, even as the question left their mouths.

"What hurts?"

"Ankle. It's bad, it's really bad," you cried, before yanking your jersey up to cover your face. It was bad enough that this was happening, and the entire stadium, everyone watching being able to see you cry only making it worse.

You stayed in your little hiding place, shirt covering your face, until the crowd of medics around you, combined with the medical cart that had been driven onto the field, provided enough of a shelter. When you removed your kit from your face, you were met with the sight of most of the team standing over you, pained expressions across their faces. You were handed the dreaded green whistle, which you tried to push away. The medic insisted, and Irene leaned over you, as if daring you to reject it again.

You accepted it, then, taking deep inhales of the medication. Your brain felt hazy, suddenly, and it didn't really register when they put the puffy orange cast over your leg.

The team hovered, silent support, as you were moved onto a stretcher, and then the cart. You were left with pats on the shoulder and kisses on the forehead before the cart began moving, driving off the pitch. The crowd clapped as you went, and all you could think was that you had no idea how long it would be before you could get back on the pitch.

-----

"Where is she?" Alexia questioned, grabbing the arm of the physio attempting to pass by her. She'd been waiting for you by the medical rooms for a few minutes, only growing more nervous as time passed.

"Ambulance. They're taking her right to the hospital." The physio replied, looking sympathetically at the blonde.

Alexia swore, taking off down the hall and towards the doors. Thank god she was cleared to run again. The blonde just barely caught the ambulance before the back was slamming shut, hopping up and in. She slid in right next to the stretcher, instantly leaning over you.

"I'm here, pequeña." She murmured, taking in the absolutely devastated expression on your face.

"It broke, I heard it break." You whispered. Alexia felt like her heart was being squeezed at the sound of your shaky voice.

"It's all going to be okay, I promise."

You shook your head. "I'm sorry, Ale." You barely got the words out, a loud sobbing ripping it's way out of you.

Your sister looked confused, reaching a hand down to cradle your cheek. "You don't have anything you need to be sorry for, hermanita. Nothing."

The conversation was only agitating you, and the paramedic gave your sister a look, one telling her to change the topic.

"Does it hurt?" She asked, glancing down at your heavily wrapped ankle.

You bit your lip. "No."

Just then, the vehicle hit a bump, jostling the stretcher slightly. Your ankle was jolted, and you let out a high pitched squeak, gripping on tight to the sides of the stretcher.

"Sure, it doesn't hurt." Alexia sighed. "We're almost at the hospital, okay? They'll fix you right up."

Alexia was speaking to you like she had when you were much younger; when the injury to be fixed was a scraped knee, not a broken bone. It was comforting, though, a glimpse of soft and sweet Alexia that you hadn't really seen much of recently.

"Can you call mom?" You asked quietly. Your sister swallowed back tears of her own at how young you seemed suddenly. You were only 20, and though normally you acted much more mature than that, she was reminded of your age by the look of complete fear in your eyes.

Your mother, however, was out of the country on a girls trip with her friends She had been texting Alexia pretty much nonstop since the injury, and Alexia had only managed to reply to one of the texts. She told your sister, though, that she didn't have good enough cell reception to call. Alexia was going to have to be enough for you.

"Her internet isn't good enough to call, remember? I'm right here with you, though. I'm not going anywhere." Alexia vowed, peeling your hand of the side of the stretcher, and wrapping her hand around it.

Your sister didn't miss the unsure glint in your eyes, and although your hand tightened around hers, she could tell that you were holding back from her, at least a little bit. The trouble was, she didn't understand why. You used to go to Alexia with all your problems; she was one of the only people you would let see you cry. Now, though, you chewed aggressively on your bottom lip, blinking away your tears.

Alexia wondered when you'd stopped trusting her the way you used to, and why.

-----

Thank god that Barça had connections at the hospital; you were in and out of x-ray fast, seen by the doctor, put on crutches within the hour. Your foot was encased in a moon boot, all the way up your shin, and you were... miserable. There was a permanent scowl set on your face, and you were answering your sister's questions with simple yes's and no's, refusing to make eye contact.

Alexia's chest ached seeing you in this much pain. She felt like she used to feel when you were little, and you'd cry; like she'd do anything, anything at all, to make you smile again.

Your other sister arrived in a flurry of chaos, and Alexia watched on as you practically melted into the hug Alba offered. She didn't understand; you went to Alba when you were in trouble, or if you wanted to goof around. You went to Alexia if you were upset. That was how it had always been, but suddenly, you couldn't look her in the eye.

"Olga went to go get you some stuff from your apartment. You can stay with Ale until you're better, alright?" Alba said.

Alexia didn't know when Alba had contacted her girlfriend, or how the decision for you to stay with her had been reached, but she was glad for it. You shouldn't be on your own, physically, and if your current attitude was any indication, also mentally.

"Did the doctor say how long you'd be out?"

You grew visibly pale at the question. "At least 4 months."

Alba opened her mouth, clearly about to comment on how that was... a long time for a broken ankle. Alexia elbowed her in the side, sending her a look to not bring it up. Alba promptly shut her mouth, figuring Alexia would explain later anyway.

What she didn't know was that you'd broken both your fibula and your tibia. The bones would take time to heal, time to rehab, as well as the partially torn muscles in your ankle. You'd asked about surgery, but the process wouldn't be sped up at all if you were operated on. You had no choice, but to wait it out. 4 months away from the pitch. 4 months.

"Hey, y/n?" Alexia said, waving a hand in front of your face.

"What?" You asked.

"I said your name like 5 times." Alexia told you, taking in the bewildered expression on your face. You'd completely tuned out, lost in your thoughts.

"Oh."

"Ready to go?" Alexia asked finally, when you didn't offer an explanation.

"Yeah."

You stood, slightly shaky on the crutches from the pain medicine, and began to make your way to the doors of the hospital. Your sisters followed close behind you. They didn't know it, but anyone looking at the two of them would have instantly known they were sisters; sporting matching worried frowns as they watching you move down the hall. Neither of them was really sure what to say to you, to make you feel better, and they hated standing by and watching you be upset. Nothing seemed to be working though, and you offered them nothing as you made it to your sister's car, sliding into the backseat without a word. The car ride back to Alexia's was completely silent, both of your sister's were lost in their thoughts, as you were.

-----

Alexia lay awake in her bed, unable to shake the feeling that she needed to check on you. Staring at the ceiling, her mind was racing, through every interaction she'd had with you recently. She couldn't figure out when you'd started acting so... strange. In retrospect, it had definitely gotten worse recently, and she hadn't noticed. The blonde had been busy, dealing with her knee and her contract renewal. Now that she'd taken the time to really look at you, for the first time in weeks, she saw someone who was hurting. All she wanted was to fix it.

"Go check on her, Ale." Olga spoke up from next to her girlfriend. "I can hear you thinking from here, just go so you can see she's fine, come back, and go to sleep.

Alexia considered for a minute, before leaning over to kiss her girlfriends cheek, and sliding out of bed. She was wearing socks, and her footsteps were quiet as she padded down the hall and to the door of the guest bedroom. She was just going to peek in, but when she rested her hand on the knob, she heard quiet snuffling whimpers coming from behind the closed door.

Twisting the knob and stepping into the room, the sounds cut off with a sharp breath. Alexia didn't say anything, not yet. Instead she walked closer to the bed, towards where you were facing away from the doorway, pretending to be asleep in the middle of the bed. Your body was trembling under the covers, so much so that she could see it even in the dark. She took a careful seat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to rest a hand on your arm. As soon as she did so, you broke, curling up into yourself as a heart wrenching sob fought it's way out of you.

Before your sister could say a word, you were twisting to face her and gasping out an apology. "Sorry, Ale, I'm sorry."

Alexia didn't know why you kept apologizing to her, but she desperately wanted you to stop. "Shh, just let it out. It's all okay, nena."

"It's not okay, Alexia, it's not. I can't play. I can't play, not for months. I can't do it, I don't want to do it." Nothing you were saying was really making any sense to your sister, but she was sure she wasn't getting any more out of you while you were still so worked up.

"Just come here, nena," she murmured, opening her arms up for you. For a second, you looked so unsure, so apprehensive, and Alexia felt like crying herself. Then, something inside of you must have given up, and you were launching yourself, as best you could, across the bed and into your sister's arms. Alexia held you close, humming a soft tune as she held you tight against her, like she used to do when you were very small.

For once, you didn't worry about disappointing her, or seeming weak in front of her. You let yourself fall apart completely, your sister's arms wrapped around you feeling like the only thing stopping you from breaking into a million pieces.

"You are strong, pequeña, so strong. You can do this, I know you can. My strong hermanita. You can do anything. I bet you'll be back on the pitch before 4 months is up." Alexia's words only seemed to make you cry harder, so she stopped talking, focusing on rocking minutely back and forth.

What if you weren't strong? You knew you weren't as strong as your sister. What if you were weak? What if you couldn't do it? Alexia said you should be able to come back before 4 months, but what if you didn't? You'd be disappointing everyone, Alexia most of all. The fear of that, of letting her down, felt like it was squeezing all the air out of your lungs, until all you could do was cling to your sister, and wait for it to pass.

It wouldn't pass. The thoughts wouldn't stop ricocheting around your head, your deepest fears and anxieties. Everything you'd been pushing down for weeks was bubbling to the surface until you were a trembling mess in your sister's arms.

"You have to calm down, nena, breathe." Alexia tried to remind you. You could only shake your head frantically, and your sister sighed, her worry increasing. "Okay, let's go call Alba."

Without another word, she held tight to you and stood up off the bed, walking towards her room. You were past caring, at this point, where you had your breakdown. Calling Alba might be a good distraction, you thought. So, you wrapped your arms around your sister's neck, trying to steady yourself.

-----

Olga had just been considering getting up, and going to check on the pair of you, when she heard her girlfriend's steps returning down the hall. They were slower than normal, and her lips tugged into a smile, knowing exactly what was about to walk through the door.

Her smile fell when Alexia walked in with you in her arms, the miserable sounds you were making filling the silent room. She made eye contact with her girlfriend, feeling her heart sink at how helpless she looked.

Alexia placed you in the middle of the bed, pulling away just slightly so she grab her phone and call your other sister. She hit Alba's contact, absentmindedly rubbing your back as you cried into her. Olga scooted closer, resting her head on Alexia's shoulder, hoping to provide some comfort to her girlfriend, who looked completely distraught at the state you were in.

"Hello?" Alba answered, grumpy at being woken in the middle of the night.

"She's really upset, can you talk to her?" Alexia asked, forgoing a greeting and holding the phone to your ear. Alba sat straight up in bed, her soft voice a stark contrast to the tension and stress flooding her. She began talking, about her day, about her week, about the silly thing she'd seen at the dog park the other day.

Your sister's soothing voice, your other sister's calming patterns rubbed into your back, Olga's nails scratching lightly at your scalp, all probably combined as you began to calm down.

Alba's voice had vanished, and Alexia smiled despite herself, knowing the other girl had probably fallen asleep talking. When your sobs quieted to small whimpers, and your sharp gasps for air turned to the occasional hiccup, Alexia spoke again. You were half asleep, and you felt safe, so safe, so tired. You let Alexia's words wash over you, the final push before you shut your eyes, drifting off on top of her.

"I love you, so much. Always. I'll be with you the whole way, nena. I promise you."

Groggily, you wondered if she meant it. If she really would be with you through this, if she really would still love you when you inevitably failed. Because you were sure you weren't strong enough for this. Despite your certainty, you also knew that you would do everything you could to meet your sister's expectations. The doctors had said 4 months, you'd do it in 3. No matter what it took, no matter how hard it was. If you failed, you'd deal with that later.

-----

[leeharkersblouse]

Not Ogling.

part 1.

Spider!Lottie Matthews x fem!reader

word count: 1k.

summary: lottie had been closed off recently and you had noticed the way she’d been wincing whenever she’d put too much pressure on one leg. you thought maybe something had happened with her parents , not that SHE was spider-woman.

proof read but apologies for any mistakes !

authors note: hello!! this is my first fic thingy so please excuse if it isn’t the best? I just really wanted something to use as an outlet for my writing. I have no idea how well this will go but I hope you guys enjoy whay I wrote while being hyperfixated on spider!lott. Please let me know if there’s anything I can improve , i’ll try and take the criticism well :D

lottie was slacking during practice , you had noticed it , and so had coach scott.

the way she’d hesitate to put too much pressure on one leg , wince when she eventually had to. the way she didn’t complete her stretches during warm up because she’d wince and grimace everytime she’d stretch too far.

something was up and you wanted to know what.

lottie would tell you if something had happened though , right? you and lottie were close , really close , actually , the line of platonic and romantic was a blur between you two.

you were crushing on lottie and she was obviously crushing on you all the same , just neither of you had it in you to confess.

your worried watching was cut short when coach scott blew his whistle. the ball had shot right past you and into the goal , which caused the people on your team to groan and the others to cheer.

“ogle the ball next time , not your girlfriend.” tai said as she came to retrieve the ball from the goal , since you didn’t look like you were about to any time soon.

“I wasn’t ogling—” you mumbled as you finally tore your eyes away from lottie. “and she’s not my girlfriend.”

“whatever , just focus on practice , yeah? we need to make it to nationals this year.” tai said , condescendingly , as if she was the captain of the team.

“does something seem off with lottie to you?” you asked , completely brushing off whatever tai had said to you before about focusing on practice.

tai looked over at lottie , who was talking to a concerned looking coach scott. at least he , too , had noticed something was wrong.

tai just shrugged.

“she’s fine. now , focus.” tai chided before jogging off while kicking the ball , causing you to let out an exasperated sigh.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆ 🕸 ⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

the rest of practice flew by and your eyes had hardly wavered from lottie.

you and the team headed back to the locker rooms to change before heading home.

you didn’t miss the way lottie had slipped away to get changed in the bathrooms , which definitely wasn’t something lottie often did. she’d get changed with the rest of the girls in the locker room and the two of you would share glances while changing.

you were snapped out of your worried watching again by — tai.

..again.

she’d clipped the back of your head with her hand which caused you to wince and rub the back of it , shooting her a glare.

tai nodded her head in the direction lottie went , practically screaming ‘go talk to her’.

which you eventually do , with a defeated huff.

you spun on your heels to head towards the bathrooms.

you pushed open the door with your shoulder , head down.

“hey , lott? I was just wondering if everything was okay? with you , I mean. just because I saw the way you were wincing during practice and how cautious you were being and—”

you look up to see the bathroom empty.

“lottie?” your brows furrow , you swore you could have just seen her come in here.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆ 🕸 ⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

you push past tai after you got changed , not wanting to talk to her incase she asked how your conversation with lottie went.

which it didn’t because lottie wasn’t there.

the only way lottie could’ve gotten out without anyone noticing was through the small window in the top of the bathroom , which you doubt lottie could climb because , even for lottie’s height , it was too high up.

you walked home with your head down , a slight furrow on your brow. it’s not like lottie to avoid you , it’s not like lottie had a reason to avoid you either.

maybe it was her parents? you knew how much of an asshole her father was , and how her mother didn’t speak up about it much. but she would’ve told you , surely.

you were too caught up in your own mind to realise the sketchy figure in-front of you getting closer. it was darker on the walks home now and usually you were more alert , because you are a woman waking home alone.

but lottie had you so caught up in your own head that you weren’t as alert as you’d usually be , and the guy heading towards you grabbed your backpack , that was slung over one shoulder , and took off.

“hey!” you yelled as you realised what had just happened.

sure , you’re a woman walking home alone in the dark but you’re also a woman who’s pretty pissed that her girlfriend-who-isn’t-her-girlfriend is suddenly acting closed off.

“that’s mine , asshole!” you took off after the guy , your legs pretty sore after practice but you didn’t care. your backpack had your books and money in it , that was more important.

your shoes slapped against the concrete as you rounded a corner , the thief in-front of you almost stumbled over his own feet before—

he was dragged into an alley way.

“what the fuck?” you muttered to yourself , breathlessly.

you stopped in-front of the alley , hearing your backpack fall to the ground and the sound of grunts echo off of the walls.

you watched as the thief got pushed against the wall by a figure. the thief swung at the figure , the figure ducking and uppercutting the thief in the jaw , knocking him out , before webbing him to the wall.

the figure stood up to its full height , about 5’10 , picked up you backpack before walking over to you at the entrance of the alley.

oh my god , your thoughts screamed.

��your bag , ma’am—” the figure said as they cleared their throat to try and deepen their voice.

but you still recognise that voice , especially when it was slightly breathless.

the figure stepped into the street light , body clad in red and blue..spandex? your eyes locked onto the spider logo , not just because it was on the chest.

the figure was spider-woman. which you could have guessed from when she webbed that unconscious thief up.

spider-woman had taken the newspapers by storm over the last three weeks. she was on the front of every newspaper , everyone was talking about her at school , and her latest crime stop was plastered all over the news.

and here you were stood with your mouth agape like an idiot because you still recognise that voice.

with both arms , spider-woman held your backpack out in front of herself for your to take.

“I hope nothing broke when it hit the floor.” spider-woman said , still trying to make her voice sound somewhat deep.

you took your backpack back , muttering your thanks , your chest still heaving a little from when you chased the thief yourself , and you just stood there like a total lemon.

but so did spider-woman.

“would you like me to walk you home? I know it’s not too far.” spider-woman offered , did she not have other crime to fight?

“how do you know where I live?” you asked as you held your backpack to your chest.

you watched as the lenses on spider-woman’s mask widened.

“lottie?” you muttered , breath catching in both yours and spider-woman’s throat.

[lushrue]

hockeyteam!141 headcanons

wanted to write more for this au but i don't have enough creative juices for a part 2 yet, so have some hcs about the 141 + some reader backstory! 💖

price (#35)

has been playing since he was a kid, found something he was good at and stuck to it

skate guards, stick tape, mouthguard, everything is blue because that’s his favorite color

gets really concerned when any one of his guys goes down on the ice, he’s usually right there beside the team medic until they shoo him away

is the first one back in the locker room after a game to greet the others with a fist bump or a high five for a job well done

(ghost thinks it’s corny, but he always asks for a fist bump after a particularly tough match)

ghost (#42)

picked up the sport as an escape from family life, it was an outlet to let out his rage and he took it

carries around a communal bottle of peroxide for washing jerseys

sometimes, the other guys on the team will give him their bloody gear cause no one can get the stains out as good as he can

technically, gaz gave him his nickname first (“you’re like a bloody spectre out there, mate”) but soap was the one that made sure it stuck

is definitely the guy on the team that yells at everyone else when they aren’t paying attention to price

has gotten called the captain’s pet more than once for it, too

really likes the flavor of red gatorade, but he doesn’t like how it stains his teeth

soap (#07)

started playing when he got kicked off of his youth football/soccer team for being too aggressive, parents picked a more physical sport for him

definitely chews on his mouthguard when the game is getting close, will chew on it regardless if he’s been on the bench for too long

gets really annoyed with how sweaty the mohawk gets under his helmet and has fully considered buzzing his whole head multiple times

chirps both on and off the ice, started an all-out brawl by calling another player a “sack of yankee-dankee-doodle gobshite” once (yes, he got it from gordon ramsay)

once he puts those pads on, he will do anything and everything price tells him to do

refill his water bottle? done. grab the whiteboard so he can sketch something out? it’s already in his hand.

speaking of sketching, johnny really likes to draw and has drawn everyone on the team at one point or another

gaz (#74)

definitely was one of those kids that played every sport they could

this man was in hockey, rugby, football, anything that would let him sign up and give him a position to play

price handpicked him for the minor league team after seeing him play in a local match (still had to run it by the head coach, laswell, though)

dances in his seat on the bench in between plays and has definitely bribed the announcer to play some of his favorite songs during the intermissions

is relatively quiet on and off the ice until he sees something he doesn’t like

once, someone landed a pretty nasty hit on price and kyle got himself ejected from the game fighting with the ref over the lack of penalty

bonus reader hcs!

i want to leave most of the physical characteristics vague (gender, hair color, etc.) but i have some backstory for the reader in this au!

decided they want to be a figure skater after watching the olympics with their parents as a kid

they started classes as young as an instructor would take them, and before that, they made their mom take them to the ice rink every day after school

always refuse to compete with a partner because they got burned by an almost-dating situation when they were in high school

as much as their coach keeps trying to get them to do upbeat routines to rock/pop music, they’ve always preferred the more flowy routines to instrumentals

despite that, they always warm up to divorced dad rock

gonna write a pt 2 for the story soon, so stay tuned!

[azzibuckets]

For the Love of the Game [Pazzi | Part 3/10]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: paige and azzi find themselves in a very sticky situation, with only one way to get out

a/n: none of this stuff is accurate to the time line in real life but who cares

word count: 1.4k

masterlist w/ all parts

“Two weeks in and you’re already causing problems.”

Azzi shrunk under the critical stare of Geno Auriemma. Although Geno was a physically stout man whom she would’ve towered over had they been standing, he was still extremely formidable in his legacy as a basketball coach. This was the seven-peat titled NCAA coach of the year, who’d guided UConn to eleven nattys and USA to three olympic gold medals, and he was glaring at her.

“I’m sorry, sir, but-,”

“And you,” Geno interrupted, fixing his reproachful frown on Paige. “You’re going to be captain this year, and this is how you lead the team?” The blonde shifted uncomfortably in her seat, glancing haughtily at Azzi. “Frankly, I’m very disappointed in you. The fact that multiple of your teammates had to inform me about your behavior is very concerning.” Paige hunched her shoulders and stared at her feet, looking like a puppy who’d gotten kicked to the side of the road.

Geno focused his attention back on Azzi. “Cursing at your teammates? You signed the player contract, Fudd. We don’t tolerate foul language or bullying of any kind. Do you know what the punishment is?”

Azzi’s mouth went dry. “I don’t know, sir, but I promise I can explain.”

Geno’s eyebrows dipped down, and his mouth was pulled into a firm line. “The punishment is suspension from all non-NCAA pre-season team activities. This includes next month’s tour in Europe, since we’re only playing exhibition games.”

Everything went blank. Azzi’s heart raced, disbelief coursing through her veins. She’d only been at Storrs for two weeks, and she was about to get kicked out of the European tour that she had been looking forward to so much. What would this mean for her? She’d miss out on team bonding, and even more importantly, wouldn’t be able to debut for UConn with the other freshmen. She’d be behind, and all her teammates would hate her, and the sports news outlets would go crazy with gossip over her suspension and-

Paige’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “Geno,” she said solemnly, “I have to tell you something.”

Azzi gaped at the blonde. Was Paige about to play the hero by admitting that she was the one who had started all the arguments?

“Azzi and I are dating.”

Okay, that was very much NOT what she had been expecting to come out of Paige’s mouth. She shifted in her seat, about to speak out in horror because the mere thought of dating Paige made her want to throw up, when she felt the other girl lay a palm on her knee.

Geno looked between the two of them, surprise evident in his eyes. “You two? Dating?”

“Yeah,” Paige shrugged. “We uh, wanted to keep it on the down low. So that we wouldn’t distract the team. So we decided to act like we didn’t like each other, but we might’ve taken it a little too far.” Paige chuckled, and Azzi had to restrain from rolling her eyes. Even she could tell that Paige’s laugh was forced.

Geno opened his mouth to respond when his phone rang. He looked down and grunted. “Give me one second,” he said before picking up the phone and slipping out of the room.

As soon as the door closed, Azzi swatted Paige’s hand that was still on her lap. “What the hell was that?” She hissed. “I don’t know what kinda weird kinky stuff you’re into, but dragging me into this is not cool.”

Paige’s eyes narrowed. “Just trust me, okay? I might be an asshole, but not enough to get you kicked off our trip to Europe. Just follow my lead.”

Azzi was about to protest, not understanding how telling Geno they were dating could save her ass, but he stepped back in before she could. Paige squinted at her, as if to make sure she was in on the plan. Azzi was completely and utterly confused. But she didn’t know what else to do, and she really wanted to go to Europe. So she decided to go along with Paige’s schemes, at least for now.

Their coach interlaced his fingers, resting his chin on them. “So what you’re telling me is that you two are in a relationship? A romantic relationship?”

Paige nodded, a little bit too enthusiastically, before taking Azzi’s hand in hers. She tried not think about how soft and warm Azzi’s hands were. “Yeah. I promise you that Azzi didn’t mean anything. She just gets a little bit too into her role sometimes, you know?” Paige smiled fondly at her, and it seemed so genuine that Azzi herself was almost convinced that they were dating.

“I promise, though, that there’s no bad blood between us. None at all.” She squeezed Azzi’s hand, signaling that it was her turn to shine.

“For sure!” Azzi’s voice came out high pitched and squeaky. Feeling Paige’s hard side eye, she cleared her throat and tried again. “There’s nothing but love here. Right, sweet cheeks?”

Paige winced, and Azzi realized that that might not have been as smooth as she’d thought. But the blonde forced back a smile, coming to her rescue. “Geno,” she said pleadingly. “Do you have to suspend Azzi?”

Geno took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes with a sigh. “I’m having a hard time believing that you two are dating.” Both girls nervously waited with their breaths bated. “But,” he continued, “since you guys apparently are, I now have a request for you. My daughter Leo is doing a little video series on the team this year as part of her assignment for her film class. She’s been wondering how to approach the personal life segment, but now you two just opened a wonderful opportunity for her!”

Paige and Azzi exchanged looks. This was not what they thought they were getting themselves into.

“If you could help Leo with her assignment, by you know, showing the dynamic between you two and how that can translate to chemistry on the court,” Geno paused, studying them over the rim of his glasses, “I could possibly see about giving Azzi a lighter punishment. Like cleanup after practices. Nothing as severe as suspension from the Europe tour.”

“Send Leo our numbers,” Paige said immediately.

Geno’s face brightened, and he looked at them with a pleased smile. “Great! I expect both of you to keep your relationship professional during practices and games, but other than that, you have no objections from me.” He sat back in his chair with his arms crossed. “Have a good day, girls,” he dismissed.

The two basketball players hurried to leave. Once outside and walking down the corridor, Paige turned to Azzi. “Sweet cheeks, really?”

Azzi blushed furiously. “Stop,” she complained. “I didn’t know what else to say.”

“Okay, honey buns,” Paige smirked, elbowing her gently in the side.

They fell into silence as they walked. “So what do we do now?” Azzi finally asked. “Pretend to date?”

The taller girl furrowed her eyebrows. “I guess. But just to make it clear, I don’t have feelings for you. I’m doing this because we can’t start off our season without one of our players, especially one as…promising as you. It’s for the team’s better if you’re in Europe - it’s for the love of the game.” She stared straight ahead as she spoke, avoiding eye contact with Azzi.

“Okayyyy,” Azzi trailed. “What’re we gonna tell the rest of the team?”

“They can’t know,” Paige responded quickly. “Did you see how all the stuff we said to each other got back to Geno? We’re gonna have to pretend in front of the team too.”

Azzi halted in her steps, realizing the full extent of what they were about to do. “You realize this means that we’ll have to act like a couple basically all the time right? We’re always with the team.”

The corner of Paige’s lips turned up. “What?” she asked. “You scared you’re gonna fall in love with me?” When she saw the look on Azzi’s face, she said in a more serious tone, “Don’t worry. We can always break up after Geno’s kid finishes her assignment. I think the issue is making everyone believe we’re dating after…you know.”

Azzi nodded, deep in thought. “We can say that in the meeting with Geno, he forced us to spend time together and we just kinda grew on each other.”

Paige made a noise in agreement. “It’ll be kinda hard, though,” she said. “Not being mean to you.”

“Shut the fuck up. And for the record, I’m straight. I will absolutely not fall in love with you.”

“We’ll see about that, sweet cheeks.”

[reigningqueenofwords]

Go Sports!

Pairing: Dean x Reader Request: @jessicalynnann Foot ball coach dean a fluffy love story ha ha ha

Letting out a sigh, you glanced down at your nephew. “You couldn’t do band?” You teased him. 

“Nope!” He grinned. “I wanna learn football!” He said proudly. 

“Alright, let’s do this.” You walked with him towards the other kids. Your sister and her husband had died the spring before, leaving you to raise your 8 year old nephew. He’d had a rough spot not long after moving in with you, but you cut the kid some slack. He’d lost his parents. Then, right before school started, he said he wanted to try out for football that fall. Which, you hadn’t even been aware football for kids that young was even a thing. After some googling, you’d found the local team for his age. 

He ran ahead of you, eager to get started. You stood off a bit from the other parents, feeling out of place. You were only 23, so you got some odd looks. Your sister was 11 years older than you, so of course the two of you were in different phases of your lives! “You look a little nervous.” Came a smooth voice, making you jump slightly. “Sorry. I’m Dean.” He held out his hand. 

“Y/N.” You shook it. “Still getting used to all things ‘kid’.” You admitted. “But, he really wants to learn to play football, so here I am.” 

“Little brother?” He asked, looking to where you were pointing. 

You shook your head. “Nephew.” That one word said so much. 

He nodded, not prying. “Well, good luck to him getting on the team.” 

“I’m hoping. I read comments about the coach- Coach Winchester. Everything said he was great with kids, and parents saw a boost in their kid’s confidence working with him. Of course, some of the moms just called him ‘yummy’.” You noted. “I figured that would be someone I’d like working with David. I mean, aside from the yummy thing. That was just an odd thing I noted.” 

“Hopefully football can be a good outlet for him.” He said casually, not making a comment about the ‘yummy’ part. 

“Coach!” A man with a mullet came over, making you raise an eyebrow at Dean. “Looks like everyone who signed up for tryouts is here.” 

Dean smiled at you. “Hi, I’m Dean Winchester. I coach the Little Bangles. This is my assistant coach, Ash. Bit weird, but the kids love him.” 

“This isn’t awkward at all.” You said shyly. “Hi, Ash. I’m Y/N.” You introduced yourself to him. “I’ll let you guys get to tryouts. I’ll be over…there…” You motioned behind you before quickly turning and walking away. 

“She’s cute.” Ash noted. 

Dean watched you walk away. “Yes, she is.” He said before taking the clipboard from Ash to go rally the kids. 

David made the team, which meant you’d be seeing a lot more of Coach Dean Winchester. The thought slightly flustered you. Which was why you had to do a double take when he walked into your job two weeks after tryouts. “Hi, Coach. Can I get you something to drink?” You asked after you handed him a menu. 

“Coke, thanks.” He gave you a grin that damn near melted you. 

“One Coke.” You noted, going to get that. No wonder the moms called the man ‘yummy’. “Here you go.” You said as you set down his glass a few minutes later. “Do you need a few minutes?”

He shook his head. “I’ll have the bacon cheeseburger and fries, sweetheart.” He handed you the menu. “How’s working going today?” Dean asked as you took the menu before writing his order down. 

“Not too bad, thankfully. Almost over.” You told him truthfully. “Been on my feet since 5 this morning.” 

He made a face. “Oh, bet David loved getting up that early.” He chuckled, lighting up when you laughed. 

“No, my best friend is a God-send. She’s a nurse and gets off at like 4 am. She went to catch a nap at my place and then watch him until I get home.” You were beyond thankful for her. “But, I will get that order in for you.” You gave him a small wave and went to get his ticket into the kitchen. 

Dean was just finishing up his meal when you came over. “Refill?” You motioned to his Coke. 

“No thanks, sweetheart.” He shook his head. “How much longer until you get off?” 

“You’re my last table. So, I once I get you cashed out, I’m headed home to listen to David talk to me about football and try to follow along.” You chuckled, making Dean grin. 

“Not a fan of it?” He asked as he pulled out his wallet. “Can I get the check?” 

You shook your head. “I jokingly yell ‘go sports’ when I watch it with David.” You admitted, enjoying how he threw his head back and laughed. “And yeah, let me get that for you.” You quickly went to get his check. He made you feel both shy and comfortable. It was such an odd combination of feelings. 

He watched you as you came back, noting there was a shyness to you now. “If you’d like, I can come watch football with you and help explain things. You know, so you don’t have to ‘try’ to follow along. If he sticks this out, do you really want to be yelling ‘go sports’ while he plays in high school?” He teased. 

“Good point.” After thinking for a moment, you nodded. “Alright. Can you come over for Sunday night football tomorrow? I order us a pizza.” 

“I’d love to. How about I bring the pizza?” He offered. 

“How about I order the pizzas, and you bring soda?” After all, you were the one inviting him over. You’d pay for the more expensive part of things. 

“Fine. Fine.” He held up his hands. “Let me pay for this, then you can clock out, and I’ll walk you to your car. Get your number and address.” 

Smiling, you nodded. “I think that works for me.” 

Every Wednesday and Friday you saw Dean for practice and games. Then, every Sunday he’d come over for Sunday night football. Eventually, Monday night football was added to that. Before you knew it, it was Superbowl Sunday. Shockingly, you found yourself really looking forward to it. Even if you’d be meeting Dean’s parents. Apparently, his dad really went out for Superbowl Sunday, and wanted you and David to have the full experience. “When is Dean gonna be here?” David asked, looking at you from the couch as he played with his football. He’d been up since 6 that morning, in his jersey, waiting. 

You chuckled. “Any minute now.” You assured him moments before you heard the sound of Dean’s car. “Hear that?” 

David got up and bolted to the door. “Finally!” He pulled the door open to see Dean walking up the driveway. 

“Heya, kiddo.” He grinned. “You can get in the car, I’ll help Y/N get the food she made.” He ruffled David’s hair as he reached him. 

You watched them fondly, chuckling as David ran to Baby and got in. “He’s been waiting for you all day.” You told Dean. 

“Well, I’ve been waiting to see you all day.” He winked. “So, I had a question.” 

“Yes, I made those potato skins you like.” 

“That makes me a very happy man, but not what I was gonna ask.” He looked a bit more shy than you were used to seeing him. You tilted your head, curious, and motioned for him to go on. “We’ve been spending nearly every weekday together, and I’ve really liked that. Was kinda hoping you’d be my girlfriend?” 

That wasn’t what you were expecting, but you weren’t complaining. “I’d love that!” You beamed at him. 

“Oh, thank God. Was so worried I was misreading things.” He breathed, hand on his stomach. 

“Nope, but I had no idea you were actually interested in me.” You admitted, confusing him. “I mean, I’m playing single mom to my nephew. You could have pretty much any single woman in town. Hell, any woman in town.” 

He took your hand in his. “And yet I spend most of my spare time with you and David. I love that kid. His Aunt is pretty great, too.” He gave your hand a squeeze. “So, let’s get all that food I know you made, go enjoy Superbowl Sunday, and then plan our first real date.” 

“I think I need to thank David for insisting on playing football.” 

[crownpastelyellow]

So I wrote something for the Solidaritek football AU @bidoofenergy has made because I have been severely unwell about them.

I recommend reading through the posts before reading this but it also works without prior knowledge of anything.

On my knees for you

Pairing: Solidaritek

Tags and Warnings: Smut, Age Gap, Oral Sex, Mild Voyerism, Mutual Pining

Length: 6.5k words

Summary: Tango is a retired football (soccer) player who now works as a sports commentator/interviewer and Jimmy is a popular football player. After spending way too long pining after each other they finally get it on.

A/N: Also fair warning, I do not know much about football. I am not a sports person. Touch this with a good amount of suspension of disbelief please. I just got too unwell about them and it needed an outlet <3

Read it on Ao3 or under the cut

Jimmy’s crush on Tango has slowly been escalating and he is very sure that the tension has been building between the two of them. 

It started with conversations before interviews and Jimmy smiling brightly at Tango, whenever they crossed paths. Then it turned into accidental touches, bumping into one another on occasion and, much to the dismay of Jimmy’s teammates, he had not shut up for weeks after Tango once grabbed his arm to pull him out of the way from someone.

At this point, Jimmy can’t deny that he craves more, so he started hanging around after interviews whenever he could, he learned all about Tango’s career, and tried his hardest to memorize anything that could make him stand out to Tango when their work made them cross paths.

But so far, luck was strictly against Jimmy. Whenever he decided to build up the courage to talk to Tango there was always some sort of interruption and he never got more than a few words in, in private.

Today though, might be Jimmy’s lucky day; they were the last ones in the interview room, Jimmy just awkwardly hanging around as Tango picks up some of his notes, not aware of the other one still in the room.

This is Jimmy’s chance. Grian was not here to make fun of him for being a mess around Tango, his coach had already left and nobody else could demand Tango’s attention. No, today he would be cool and charm the commentator with… Something. He can figure it out along the way. Maybe he could just ask Tango out for a drink, or he could- “Oh, hey, Jimmy, you’re also still here.” Tango says, smiling at Jimmy, instantly making him forget anything he had planned on saying.

And from there it only just gets worse. “You did well out there today”, Tango casually praises Jimmy, whose mouth opens and closes again till he eventually lets out a “Thanks”, that is just a bit too strangled, earning a chuckle from the other man who isn’t even looking at Jimmy anymore, more focused on his bag and papers.

As Tango finishes packing up, Jimmy shakes his head to get out of his stupor. If he doesn’t shoot his shot now, he might miss yet another chance. Jimmy makes his way towards the other man, a confident grin on his face. He just needs to be smooth now.

“Hey, Tango,I really enjoyed the interview today, your questions are always the best. I wanted to ask -” Jimmy says, the words coming out just a little bit too quickly, and he walks with just a little bit too much bounce in his step. His foot catches on a cable that wasn’t properly covered up, and he trips, his large frame falling right into Tango’s arms, who, to Jimmy’s absolute delight, manages to catch him with ease.

Jimmy is too awestruck at being so close to Tango, feeling his strong arms around his torso, to consider being embarrassed, or to move away. Instead he just looks up at Tango, unable to tear his gaze away from his lips.

“Careful there, buddy” Tango says with a laugh but Jimmy can see the other man gulp.

Maybe, just maybe, Jimmy hasn’t fucked this whole thing up just yet.

If this doesn’t work out how he imagines that he is going to be in deep shit but Jimmy cannot stop himself at this point.

As he closes his eyes, not wanting to see a potential expression of dread on Tango’s face, he finds his footing again and leans himself up again, just enough so that his lips meet Tango’s.

For a moment, Jimmy is convinced that he has just made a huge mistake, one that could, in the worst case, affect his whole career. A mistake he made because he was thinking with his dick again instead of -

Tango kisses him back.

At first the movement of his lips is barely noticeable to Jimmy who was so focused on how warm Tango is, how his beard tickles against Jimmy’s face and how strong his arms are. 

Jimmy might be a little bit overeager at this point, but he leans further in. Standing up straight now, Tango’s arms still remain wrapped around him, Jimmy is a bit more than a head taller now but still leaning down into the kiss.

His heart is pounding in his chest and Jimmy doesn’t know what to do with his hands, his brain short-circuiting, but when they find Tango’s body, they instantly begin to wander.

——————————————————————————————————

They know they can’t stay in the small interview room, too many people might walk in, with all the equipment that is still in here.

“Locker room” Jimmy mumbles into a kiss, and a few seconds later they part, and Tango sees the way Jimmy’s eyes are lit up with excitement. 

The locker room isn’t far and it should most definitely be empty by now. They part just long enough, just in case somebody else decided to stick around here, to hurry through the hallway, Jimmy eagerly pulling Tango along who is equally stunned and amused.

Jimmy looks back at Tango with his brown eyes, almost like a puppy begging for a treat and Tango feels his heart melt at the sight.

The second the door closes behind them, Jimmy presses his lips against Tango’s, pushing his back against the door. Tango kisses back instantly, parting his lips with a small smirk, as he lets Jimmy eagerly explore. 

He has been driving Tango insane with his smile, his charisma and just his energy in the plenty of interviews they’ve had at this point. And Tango had wanted this, had kicked himself for craving this for longer than he wants to admit.

But he isn’t pushing Jimmy away now. No one in their right mind would push Jimmy Solidarity away if he kisses them like this.

Tango pushes back into the kiss, pushing himself off and away from the door, not wanting to jinx the most awkward accident imaginable, should somebody come in here after all. Not that any other alternative of someone walking in on them would be much better, but Tango decides not to think about those possibilities right now.

They part but only for a moment before Tango finds himself between the side of a locker and Jimmy, who is currently pressing one leg right between Tangos, his thigh just brushing against him just right and Tango already has to bite back a groan.

It doesn’t help when Jimmy trails open mouthed kisses alongside his jaw.

Tango leans further against the wall for support, letting Jimmy kiss his neck with a hunger that surprises him.

He still does not understand what someone like Jimmy wants from someone like him, but for once he decides not to question his luck.

With eager hands Jimmy starts pulling Tango’s polo shirt up slightly, and as one hand explores Tango’s stomach, traveling all the way up over his chest, his other hand starts to undo Tango’s belt.

For a moment Tango is so taken aback by how skilled and practiced Jimmy’s movements are, but after a second or two he gathers himself, placing a hand on Jim’s wrist, immediately stopping the younger one in his eagerness. 

Of course, Jimmy immediately backpedals, stopping, trying to pull back but Tango’s hands remain on his wrists, not letting him remove them either. “Jim, I… Are you sure you want this?” He asks, clearly nervous. More nervous than Jimmy, who’s hands seem to just want to keep moving.

“What? Of course Tango.” Then after a moment he adds “I wanted this for so long. Gosh, Tango, I have been thinking about this for way too long” Jimmy admits and Tango can see his face flush, see the way it spreads past the collar of his shirt and Tango needs to close his eyes. But that only ends up making it worse, his imagination now running wild. Jimmy has been thinking about him? About this?

He almost wants to ask, wants to know what exactly Jimmy has been fantasizing about.

Instead, Tango decides not to push his luck further today. He just needs to make sure that this is really what Jim wants and not something he’ll end up regretting.

“Are you-” Jimmy immediately interrupts him. 

“Yes, Tango. Please, I just, I just want this. I want you.” Jimmy looks down at Tango with pleading eyes, his tone just edging on being whiny. Tango goes weak in the knees at the sight.

Here is this handsome, fit, young man, practically begging for him. Slowly he lets go of Jimmy’s wrists, letting his hands trail slightly up his arms, giving Jimmy a confirming nod.

Tango is still conflicted, of course. He can never really turn his brain off and now is no different. What does Jimmy want with someone like him? Of course, he shouldn’t complain, should just give in but… Tango isn’t exactly in his 20s anymore. His body, while still fit for his age, shows that. And he is not exactly one for random flings anymore, he doesn’t even really remember how long it has been since the last time he did something this spontaneous. 

Of course he’d want more from this, in the best case, but now is not exactly the time to ask for that. He closes his eyes again, unable to stifle the sigh that escapes his lips as Jimmy finally undoes the zipper of his pants. 

Tango leans back, the metal of the locker cold against the back of his shirt that Jimmy is still pulling up.

With his head leaning back, Tango lets out a shaky breath. He can already feel his dick harden inside his pants even if, despite Jimmy’s eagerness, he hasn’t even touched Tango yet.

Jimmy slowly, very slowly, sinks down to his knees, hands on Tango's waist to steady himself. Even on his knees, brown eyes looking up at him, he seems tall. Tango can’t help but stare at him like this, broad shoulders, strong arms, tousled hair and he knows that he needs to see more.

With slightly shaky hands, he grabs Jimmy’s shirt at his shoulders and gently tugs on it, begging silently to remove it, but he waits, patiently, for Jimmy to react.

Jimmy does not have the same patience apparently, quickly pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it into some corner of the room with little regard.

Tango’s eyes travel over his broad, slightly tanned shoulders, the definition of his muscles, and Tango can see them work as Jimmy’s hands trail over his lower body, slowly pulling his pants down till they pool at his ankles.

Despite Jimmy’s clear impatience, he looks up at Tango, while hooking his fingers under the waistband, slightly tugging it down, thumb brushing over the dark blond hairs that trail down below. 

Tango wants this, wants this more than anything, so he pushes his concerns away, his hand finding Jimmy’s hair, tugging on it just a little. The moan Jimmy lets out at this is making Tango throb, and he pulls just a little bit harder, pulls his face a little bit closer to his crotch, which only earns him more of those beautiful noises. It feels addicting, like he needs more, more of Jimmy.

“Please” Tango manages, his raspy voice cracking slightly as his breathing already grows heavier in anticipation. 

And Jimmy doesn’t need to hear that twice, quickly pulling down the boxers. He can see Jimmy eye him, his brown eyes large, lips parted just slightly as his face is so close to Tango’s member.

Tango is slightly nervous, having someone like Jimmy so close to himself. He knows he’s not anything impressive, that he isn’t Jimmy’s age anymore, and that it shows. Despite being fit, his body has gone soft. But with Jimmy looking up at him like that, he might almost feel as beautiful as Jim is.

Jimmy’s warm breath ghosts over him, causing Tango to shudder, knees buckling slightly. Immediately, Jimmy’s hands grab his waist just a little bit firmer. He lets the touch ground him, but it is only a momentary respite before he feels the warmth of Jimmy’s mouth on him. Tango feels like he might pass out from how warm and wet it is and the tightness of his lips wrapped around his tip.

Already Tango has to keep himself from bucking his hips forward, not wanting to overwhelm Jimmy, but the younger man takes notice and  greedily takes more of him, sinking down onto him until Tango can feel himself press against the back of Jimmy’s throat, while letting out a strangled gasp.

Jimmy stays still for a moment and looks up at Tango and he can’t help but throb in his mouth, precum leaking from his tip.

“Jimmy” Tango groans, his voice high pitched and raspy, pulling slightly tighter on the blonde hair, as if it were a lifeline.

The way Jimmy hums around him has Tango already on edge and he knows he won’t last long, not with how Jimmy looks up at him, moves his tongue around his member, and takes him just a little bit deeper, occasionally closing his eyes, as if Tango were the most delicious thing he ever tasted.

When Jimmy pulls back, not fully but just enough to sink himself down on Tango again, his lips still firmly wrapped around his member, Tango can’t hold his noises, panting back anymore.

Tango can’t help himself, as he feels his orgasm build and build, until he feels like he’s about to spill. “Jimmy, I’m gonna -” He tries to pull Jimmy off, not wanting to make him swallow like this, but Jimmy has other plans, his tongue licking along the underside of Tango's shaft as much as he can while trying to take him even deeper, nose brushing against Tango’s abdomen.

Tango didn’t plan on cumming down Jim’s throat. He didn’t plan on any of this in the first place.

It was an idea he entertained before, on some lonely nights, when he couldn’t stop thinking about Jimmy’s bright smile, his stupidly beautiful brown eyes, thinking about a sight much like the one right in front of him. But this was better than he could have imagined it.

Tango can’t help but let out a few indecent grunts, mixed with a sigh, as he feels his orgasm wash over him. He can’t handle the sight in front of him, the way Jimmy smiles with his eyes, still looking up at him. Tango wants to look away, he really does, but he can’t tear his gaze from him, not wanting to miss a single second of this. 

Tango is quite certain he hadn’t cum this hard in years, mostly just taking care of his needs as they arose, but this is something he didn’t even consider again, for the longest time.

He sinks against the wall, leans his head against the cool metal of the locker and shuts his eyes, his breath coming out heavy and his hand still buried in Jimmy’s hair, not holding him down. No, Jimmy is staying in place of his own volition as Tango softens in his mouth, still surrounded by the warmth.

Gently, he strokes Jimmy’s hair, still reeling from the intense pleasure, brushing a few strands of hair out of his face before daring to look at him again.

It takes everything in Tango to remain standing up, especially when Jimmy starts trailing one of his hands along his thigh, grabbing gently at it. Of course Tango is still fit, still muscular, just because he is retired from playing football professionally, doesn’t mean he isn’t still playing and especially his legs show that.

“Jim” Tango groans, his voice cracking again slightly and in other circumstances he might be embarrassed about it but right now he can’t find it in him to care.

Not when Jimmy’s hand travels lower, gently brushing up and down his calf as if he were admiring the muscle in it. That thought, mixed with the warmth of Jimmy’s mouth and his hand trailing up and down his leg, cause Tango to let out another high pitched noise.

Again, Tango repeats “Jim”, as it is getting too much for him. He needs to breathe, he needs to just… Sit down for a second.

With a gentle push he moves Jimmy's head back, guiding him off his cock, which is now glistening with Jimmy’s saliva and the bits of his release that Jimmy hadn’t managed to swallow down immediately and this time Tango needs to avert his gaze.

“This was…” Tango tries but starts again “Jimmy this is… You are…” His thoughts are still all over the place, unable to focus on anything coherent. Or better said, he can’t focus on anything but Jimmy and the way he is looking at him.

“I think I need to sit down” he eventually manages to get out alongside a desperate and shaky laugh.

Before Tango can even try to pull his pants back up, Jimmy is already at it, and their hands brush against each other as Tango grabs onto the fabric of the jeans to pull it up the rest of the way and fasten the belt again. It feels weirdly intimate, despite what they just did and Tango finds himself just wanting to hold onto Jimmy’s hands, to just not let go.

Instead though, he just extends his hand to Jimmy.

Tango can't help but think of the first time they met, the way Jimmy was still so awkward and new to the entire interview scene, the way he slumped onto the floor once they were finished.

Tango doesn’t remember much about that interview, how long ago that even was or why Jimmy even fell off the couch in the first place.

What he does remember though, is the way Jimmy had looked up at him with his large brown eyes as he pulled him to his feet again.

Tango is afraid he is in this position for far too long, so he helps Jimmy up with ease and proceeds to sit down on one of the benches right next to them, leaning back against the locker behind him.

“This was amazing, Jimmy. You are amazing” Tango rasps as he tries to calm his pounding heart, giving Jimmy an encouraging smile.

With his eyes closed once more, Tango doesn’t see Jimmy’s face flush as a bright, goofy smile finds its way onto his lips, or the way Jimmy stares at him absolutely starstruck.

When Tango opens his eyes again he sees Jimmy bend down to pick up his discarded shirt, and he can’t look away from the way his back looks as he moves.

Tango wants nothing more than to return the favor immediately.

“Jimmy” his voice still sounds breathless, “Come here”, he requests gently.

And of course Jimmy is right there, not even bothering to put the shirt on again. Instead he lets Tango pull him onto the bench so he straddles his lap. Tango has to crane his neck up to meet Jimmy’s gaze, his lips, as they meet his.

This time it is Tango’s hands that wander over Jimmy’s ribs, his abs, his arms, his back, pulling him closer as he deepens the kiss until Jimmy lets a soft moan slip out and it only encourages Tango more, now needing to know what other noises Jim can make for him. 

As he plays with the waistband of Jimmy’s shorts, just about to pull them down when it is now Jimmy’s turn to stop him. “Tango, Tango, I haven’t showered yet. I don’t wanna do that to you” He laughs and Tango can only stare up at him and nod with a weak “Oh, yeah okay”, earning another laugh. Of course he heard Jimmy laugh before, a million times it feels, with how charismatic he gives himself in the interviews nowadays, but never like this. 

They both look at each other for a moment before Jimmy leans in with a smirk “Care to join me?” and Tango forgets how to breathe for a second before he manages to get out a quiet, barely there “yes” 

Tango knows he’s behaving like a lovestruck teenager right now but when Jimmy looks at him like this, he can’t help himself.

Now both of them move eagerly towards the shower, just out of view from the empty locker room, as neither of them can take their hands off each other.

Jimmy is immediately eager to help Tango out of his red polo shirt, tugging the red fabric over his head, as Tango kicks his shoes off. Quickly his pants follow suit, Jimmy fiddling with his belt again as their lips meet. Tango blindly tries to pull Jimmy’s pants down but brushes accidentally over his already very prominent length. This causes Jimmy to gasp right into Tango’s mouth, all while pressing further against his lips, clearly wanting more.

Tango tries, just for a moment, to tease him more, to get more of these delicious noises out of Jimmy, but both of them are getting too impatient as to draw this out any longer.

Soon enough, they’re both undressed and Jimmy turns around to turn the water on, only for Tango to immediately step up behind him, strong arms wrapping around his torso, as he hugs Jimmy from behind, pressing open mouthed kisses against his shoulder, causing Jimmy to freeze, before he even manages to turn the water on.

Tango smiles against his skin, trying to reach out and around Jimmy, hand placed on his, on the faucet and without much thinking, he turns the water on.

Immediately hot water splashes both of them, right onto Jimmy’s shoulder and square into Tango’s face, causing him to yelp in panic for a moment.

Jimmy quickly moves so the water isn’t pelting Tango right in the face, but Tango just wants to bury his head into Jimmy’s shoulder in embarrassment. Of course, for once he tried to be cool and collected around Jimmy, which was already hard enough considering everything about him, only for something to go wrong.

Tango lets out a laugh, the heat in his face rising but then he sees Jimmy turn towards him and his bright, slightly crooked grin turns into laughter too. But not at Tango, not making fun of him, but with him.

And when Jimmy tries to tilt his head upwards, of course Tango looks at him and gets lost in his eyes.

Jimmy wants to say something but Tango can only focus on his lips and how they were wrapped around him just a few minutes ago, so before any word can come out, Tango kisses Jimmy again, eager to repay the favor as the hot water runs over them.

While Jimmy’s hands roam Tango’s body with a vigorous hunger, Tango carefully brushes his over Jimmy’s body, calloused hands cleaning his skin, while slowly trailing lower and lower.

Their bodies are pressed against one another, and Tango can’t help but press kisses all over Jimmy’s skin. He can see him shiver when his beard scratches against Jimmy’s throat as he trails down from his jaw, causing Tango to smile into each kiss.

Jimmy bucks his hips against Tango, his member already hard and Tango cautiously reaches out, studying Jimmy’s every expression to make sure he doesn’t overstep. But Jimmy has his eyes pressed shut, head tilted backwards just the slightest bit as he bites down on his lips as he is struggling to keep quiet.

“I want to hear you, please” Tango whispers, some of the guilt still gnawing at him. What is he doing here? What is he doing here with Jimmy? 

But seeing his expressions it is clear that Jimmy enjoys this as much as Tango does, if not more. And who is Tango to leave Jimmy unsatisfied after he already got on his knees for him;

Tango is not planning on leaving Jimmy unsatisfied.

“It’s okay. We’re alone here.” He reassures, as if that’s what Jimmy would be worried about.

He picks up his pace and asks again, this time just with another raspy “Please” murmured into Jimmy’s built chest. Tango can’t look at him for too long like this, his mind and body still reeling from his own release just minutes ago.

Jimmy’s lips part and the moans flow freely now, drawing Tango's gaze up. He presses another kiss on the corner of Jimmy’s mouth as his hand keeps moving in a steady rhythm, making sure that he's wrapped around Jimmy just tight enough. 

He can feel Jimmy eagerly fuck forwards into his fist with desperation, the need for more apparent in his movements and the few moans that the sound of running water didn't fully drown out. 

Tango can’t take his eyes off Jimmy, studying his expression and with the tousled wet hair he looks even more beautiful, his cheeks flushed, panting out Tango's name. 

No one should have to be subjected to such a sight. Ever.

Tango can feel his own member slowly starting to harden again but he ignores it, wanting to focus solely on Jimmy now. 

He presses more kisses onto his jaw, and down his throat, burying his face in Jimmy's shoulder for a moment as he stops his hand from moving, just to feel Jimmy desperately bucking his hips to find more friction, his moans getting needier and needier. “Tango. Please. Tango, please I need-”he pants. 

Normal Tango might have tried to make him spell it out but the slight whine in Jimmy's voice has him give in instantly. He cannot say no to him, to the way that Jimmy's moans beg him to keep going, like a puppy asking for treats. 

But instead of moving his hand again, Tango holds the base of Jimmy's shaft in his fist while getting on his knees. 

Jimmy has half a mind to turn the water off, so Tango doesn't get hit in the face again when Jimmy leans back against the cool tiles of the communal showers, groaning at the cold sensation on his back.

Tango kneels before Jimmy who is towering over him entirely now. How can he be so ridiculously tall? How can he still look so ridiculously handsome from down here? Maybe even more handsome, with the slight flush spreading over his torso, his member now standing right in front of Tango's face. 

Almost immediately, a hand finds itself on the back of Tango's head, pushing him forward towards where Jimmy's tip is already eager, leaking slightly.

Trying not to get lost in the sight, Tango focuses on gently licking along its underside, all the way to the tip, pressing an open mouthed kiss on it, that practically invites Jimmy to buck his hips forwards, the younger one clearly not patient enough for this.

“Oh God - sorry, Tango, I'm sorry, I - “ Any apology is instantly getting swallowed by a moan, as Tango starts moving the hand on Jimmy's shaft, jerking him off into his mouth.

Tango knows that there is no way he can do what Jimmy did for him earlier, and he's still thinking about it, and he knows he won’t be able to ever stop thinking about it either for a long while. 

There is an eager stutter to Jimmy's hips and Tango can tell just how much he is trying to hold back, can feel it in the way Jimmy's hands keep wandering away from the back of his neck, to being on Tango's shoulder, to one hanging in tense fists next to Jimmy, the other splayed on the cool tiles behind him. 

Right as Jimmy was about to ask Tango to take him just the slightest bit deeper, hand on his neck again, the door to the locker room opened and both men froze up instantly. Jimmy had half a mind to turn the shower next to them on, hoping the sounds would muffle any other noises. 

“Jimmy, can you hurry up? How long are you still gonna take here? We've been waiting forever“, Joel's voice sounds through the locker room, clearly annoyed. 

Tango wants to pull himself off Jimmy's cock, but the hand at the back of his head applies gentle pressure, keeping him in place. When Tango looks up and their eyes meet he can see Jimmy whisper a silent “Please”, face still flushed and traces of pleasure apparent. 

“Ye-Yeah I'll be out in a bit. Just gotta finish showering. Why, why are you and Grian still waiting?” Jimmy asks, hoping he comes across normal enough. 

He can hear the frustration in Joel's voice “Jim, we've had plans to grab drinks tonight. Can you stop drooling over that guy for one second and actually pay attention.” A locker opens and ruffling noises sound. Tango remains unmoving but prays that Joel won’t come in here, won’t notice what is happening.

If Jimmy's face was flushed before, he was now closer in shade to a tomato. 

“Shit” Jimmy stammers as Tango shifts slightly, but Joel doesn't seem to notice the cause. “Oh gosh that was today? I'm sorry, I can't, something came up and-”

“I swear Jimmy, if you're ditching us again just to learn, what was it? Football stats,” Joel says in a high-pitched voice mocking Jimmy's, “just to get your dick wet, I'm gonna actually punch you.” Joel threatens, still audibly rummaging in his locker. 

It doesn't escape Tango how Jimmy's grasp has become just a little bit firmer on him and how he is twitching in Tango's mouth. 

Jimmy is actively avoiding Tango's gaze, looking anywhere but at the man on his knees for him and Tango isn't quite sure if it is out of embarrassment or something else but he gets his answer when precum coats his tongue, Jimmy's breath hitching as he tries to remain steady enough to reply. 

“No, no, Joel, I just… I just forgot about an appointment I had. Norman… I have to bring him to the vet, for a checkup.” Jimmy stammers his weak lie, the best he could come up with given his situation. It doesn't help that Tango slowly starts moving his hand again, a careful eye on Jimmy's expression, nervously trying not to misinterpret the situation but it seems like he was spot on. Jimmy's hips start moving again.

“A checkup at the vets? At 8pm on a Friday? Jim, you absolute idiot. But yeah, go home and jerk off to your Tango or something. But you're paying for the first round next week.” Joel gives him a dry laugh, locker door slamming shut and after a few moments his steps leave the room entirely, the heavy door falling shut.

Jimmy is now painfully hard and leaking, not able to hide from Tango, just how much this interaction had worked him up. Finally he lets Tango pull himself off his leaking tip, catching his breath, but his hand still keeps moving as he looks up at Jimmy.

“So… Football stats to get your dick wet, huh?” Tango asks with a smirk. 

Tango already had a hunch, that Jimmy didn’t actually know much about the statistical side of his job, despite being an excellent player, at least at the beginning of his career. It comes naturally to some and less to others and there's no shame in it. But there is shame in how endearing it had been to Tango, to see the effort Jimmy put into learning about these things.

And to know now, that he did it to impress Tango was a heady feeling he dared not to think about too much, at least not right now.

What had he done to have this puppy of a man be infatuated with him? It is both pure bliss and absolute torture simultaneously. 

Tango tries to just turn his head off for once and it comes easier when Jimmy whines out his name again in a desperate plea. 

Of course Tango's hand picks up speed and of course Tango's lips wrap around the leaking member again.

He wants nothing more than to make Jimmy the happiest he can be in this moment and it doesn't take long for Tango to succeed. 

In a frantic, desperate motion, Jimmy pulls Tango off of himself, not having even a second to warn him, before spurts of release get shot across Tango's face, some landing in his beard and a lot of it on his glasses.

Jimmy looks like he's about to apologize as he's but Tango just looks up at him and laughs “Hey, at least we're already in the shower” studying Jimmy from this view one last time before taking his glasses off and standing up, feeling Jimmy's gaze on him the entire time. 

This seems to ease Jimmy’s own worries slightly, his face more flushed than tomato colored now and his parted lips slowly turning into a goofy smile. And before Tango can wipe any of the cum off his face Jimmy energetically pulls him in for a kiss, even more enthusiastic than before.

Tango can’t help but be endeared by him, Jimmy’s energy being infectious enough to make him forget how his knees ache from being on the tiled floor for too long.

“Lets get cleaned up, alright?” Tango laughs as they both bask in each other's presence under the hot water.

——————————————————————————————————

Jimmy throws Tango one of his spare towels once they are done and asks, as casually as he can, “Can we go out? For drinks? Tonight?” It comes off as a little bit desperate so he adds, “If you don’t have anything planned.” That is not making it any better.

Tango finishes drying off, tossing the towel back to Jimmy who catches it with ease, shooting Jimmy a smile as he puts his pants back on. “Thought you had a vet appointment? Norman was your cat right?” And Jimmy wants to sink to his knees again almost instantly. He remembers the name of his cat? But before Jimmy can point that out or even just nervously laugh at Tango’s joke, the man continues. “Or are you just ditching your teammates to go spend time with some old guy, trying to impress him by talking about football stats, huh?”

Jimmy wants to sink into the floor and never emerge again. He might need to strangle Joel tomorrow, couldn’t his timing have been any worse?

No, what actually is worse is how much Jimmy enjoyed it. The mixture between the panic of getting caught, the embarrassment of getting called out like this right in front of Tango and just the feeling of Tango himself. 

Jimmy shakes his head, focusing on drying off again. He hasn’t even put his pants back on again, he can’t already beg Tango for more.

He realizes he hasn’t replied and has now just been staring at Tango in silence for a few moments, watching him fasten his belt again and reaching for his shirt. 

Jimmy only manages an awkward stammer in reply.

He is sure that he’s messed this up again, his one chance, when Tango chuckles, looking at Jimmy, walking closer to him, while only being shirtless.

“We can go out, sure.” Tango grins, placing a hand on Jimmy’s arm. “Come on then, get dressed” He teases at Jimmy’s state of undress, but Jimmy interrupts Tango before he can put his own shirt on, with another kiss. 

——————————————————————————————————

Grian and Joel are sitting around a table with a few other teammates they would consider friends, each slowly sipping at their drinks, eyes fixed on the bar nearby where they see Jimmy, who is clearly not taking his cat for a routine checkup on a Friday night, and Tango who has his back to them.

Both seem engrossed in their conversation but the two can only overhear occasional tidbits from Jimmy, his volume control even more questionable than usual when he is around Tango.

“I genuinely can’t believe this. How did Timmy manage that?” Grian asks, pinching the skin between his eyebrows as he sighs.

“No idea. Maybe he finally stopped bringing up -” Joel wants to reply but Jimmy’s laughter echoes way too loud through the bar, but neither of the men seem to be aware of it.

Joel groans instead of finishing his sentence, emptying his drink.

——————————————————————————————————

The next day before practice, Jimmy can’t stop thinking about what happened yesterday, right here where he is sitting in the locker room, the way he was on his knees in front of Tango, how he sat on his lap, how his lips felt on his. Oh, he would go on his knees again and again for Tango in a heartbeat.

Jimmy was so lost in his daydreams that he did not notice Joel entering, immediately kicking at Jimmy’s shin, ripping him out of his thoughts about the wonderful sounds Tango made for him yesterday.

“How was Norman?” Joel asks in a mocking tone.

“Norman?” Jimmy asks back, confused. His mind is filled with many things but none of them help him figure out why Joel is talking about his cat.

Grian joins the team in the locker room, immediately heading past Jimmy to his own locker, not sparing him a single glance. “Tim, next time you’re getting your dick wet, please just come up with a better excuse”

Jimmy stammers, right. “I didn’t mean to ditch you guys, sorry” Jimmy says and he means it. 

“Whatever, next one’s on you” Joel shrugs before sitting down in front of his own locker, kicking his shoes off.

“How do you guys even know about this?” Jimmy asks, fearing for the worst. They couldn’t have actually heard them in here yesterday, right? Joel would have said something right then and there and Jimmy would never live that down.

Grian has the most exasperated look on his face, tired of dealing with this “Jimmy. You guys quite literally went to the bar that we were supposed to go to yesterday, after ditching us.”

A weak ”Oh.” is all Jimmy can manage.

“Oh Tango, please tell me more. Oh Tango, can you tell me about the Olympics again” Joel mocks Jimmy in a high pitched voice, causing Grian to groan.

“Joel, please don’t encourage him. Seeing him drool like that yesterday was already bad enough” which is met with laughter. 

Jimmy leans his head back in embarrassment “You guys… saw all of that?”

“Jimmy, it was really hard to miss.” Grian sighs, unpacking his bag. “The whole place heard your conversation”

“It was actually quite disgusting to watch.”, Joel chimes in with another laugh.

“Guys please, I…” Jimmy can’t really defend himself there, his face heating in embarrassment but he can’t help but laugh. Because he must have looked absolutely ridiculous yesterday, but how could he not?

He checks his phone quickly before putting it into his locker, needing to escape his friends teasing. But he stops, seeing he’s got a message from Tango.

It is simple, it just says “alright. see you later then!”, but Jimmy must have the biggest grin on his face, judging by Grian groaning in exasperation.

[spideysquake]

my thoughts on art donaldson

art wants nothing more than to be wanted, to be someone’s free and clear first choice. i don’t necessarily think it’s about repression with patrick (at least, not all the way) but about rejection.  yes, patrick wants art, but he also wants the girl from boarding school, and his kinda girlfriend (mentioned in the hotel room), and he wants tashi enough to go back on his promise to art about winning their match. he stops being as important to patrick once tashi is his girlfriend, and he only gets to be with tashi after patrick fucks up their relationship. and yes he manipulates them, blah blah blah. manipulation is the main color scheme of this movie! they all manipulate each other and they’re in love, nobody is special. but art has clearly internalized that when all three of them are involved, he doesn’t come first or even second. when it’s just him and patrick, or just him and tashi, at least he stands a chance at mattering. even in tennis, everyone always tells him that he is such a good sidekick for patrick, that they’re great doubles partners, but it isn’t until tashi is his coach that people tell art that he is a great tennis player. it isn’t until patrick is out of the picture that art gets to be valued as himself, as a tennis player, as a man, as a boyfriend. the only thing art really wants in this world is to matter to someone more than anything else. and when tashi is his coach, he becomes her most valuable thing. he is her outlet through which she can play tennis again, and he knows that that is the thing she desires more than anything else in the entire world. but after a while, art is tired. tired of playing tennis, yes, but also tired of only mattering when he plays tennis. he knows his wife loves him, but he also knows she resents him, because he gets to play tennis, and he doesn’t even want to. he would do anything for her, but the one thing he knows she wants from him is making him miserable. once again, art has to learn that he can’t have everything he wants in life; he is always to feel that emptiness somewhere within him. 

[jamiesfootball]

On the one hand Roy breaking up with Keeley was deeply rooted in his own insecurities and it’s heartbreaking because they both clearly still love each other.

On the other hand, while it’s easy lambast him for being stupid about it and not staying together to work it out, he may have accidentally done a very good thing for himself.

We saw in season two how Roy tends to get a bit clingy in a relationship. Some of that is probably just who he is - a guy who feels things very very very strongly and wants all the quality time with people he loves - but I suspect that some of it is also an outlet for the fact that Roy doesn’t easily make strong, honest emotional connections.

He gives people PARTS of himself. He gives the yoga ladies a bit of his silliness, but not the passionate core of himself that loves football more than anything. He gives the coaching team… more than he used to, but he holds back from being a Diamond Dog. He clearly loves the lads on his team, but they’re not allowed to comfort him about his break up. That’s a step too far.

Outside of his family, Keeley really was like the only person he let inside. And it’s easy to point at Roy’s sense of self worth as the reason for the break up, but on a deeper level I think part of him also felt devastated by the possibility that maybe Keeley didn’t feel as strongly. She didn’t need him the way he needed her, didn’t want to be attached to him the same way. She was fine on her own. Preferred it sometimes.

She loved him. He knows that. But Roy is a man in progress, and god only knows how low his reservoir of being loved was before the series. In some ways, Roy was a starving man when it came to Keeley, and honestly good on him if he realized that wasn’t the healthiest thing to bring into a relationship.

While he might have gone about it in a messy way, in a way that didn’t use enough words because he didn’t know how to make the words mean exactly, I think Roy asked for what he needed. (And Keeley might’ve hit the nail on the head when she called it a ‘break’ instead of a ‘break up’, but Roy is not a man of half measures. If they’re not together then it’s a break up. He’s stringing no one on here.)

Roy is emotionally a fucking mess post break up, but we do see signs now that this is a Roy Kent who is becoming comfortable with his life. He’s warmer with the boys, he’s joking with the coaches, he’s having a great old time during practice and personal training. He’s even made Jamie Tartt into a friend- dare I say, a close friend.

These are the support structures he needed in season two but wouldn’t let himself have. Now that he’s forcefully put himself out to pasture, he’s in a position where he has to let them in or it’s going to get very cold out there. Of course like a sheepdog he has found himself surrounded in cozy things.

This is a Roy who’s gonna be more secure in a relationship. Boy really just needed some time to work on himself. Its the good idea hiding behind the facade of a bad one. He’s gonna be just fine.

[blue-rose-soul]

For the main Devil's Bastard AU, how likely would either Alastor or Lucifer be to clear things up once the news broke to the public?

If, like Vox, Hell believes that Alastor knew Lucifer was his father from childhood and was given an easy go of it, it arguably harms Alastor's reputation more. Assuming nepotism and involvement with Charlie's hotel being the result of existent family relationships. His mother would probably get less attention with the focus on Alastor himself.

If the facts came out that neither of them knew until just before or after episode 8, that might bring less scrutiny on Alastor, who can now be confirmed as raised human, but open up them both to questions about Nicaise. Because that means Lucifer really had no idea and was a complete non-entity in Alastor's life.

Actually, how does Lucifer address the controversy of Alastor's mother in all branches of the AU?

Given that Lucifer's usual coping mechanism is to lock himself in his workshop for a few decades building ducks, I don't think that rushing to any news outlet willing to platform him would be his first plan of action. Not that he'd be unwilling, just that it wouldn't immediately occur to him.

Alastor, on the other hand, is not the type to take things lying down and is more than happy to retaliate publicly to attempts to slander his name. Rather than focusing on the fact that he and Lucifer didn't discover their relation until recently, however, I can see him going on air and reiterating that he is independently powerful and anyone who dares to think otherwise is more than free to face him. Charlie takes issue with this response.

I think it would be Charlie herself who would organize something like a press conference to address the situation. Katie Killjoy and a half dozen other reporters are present and Charlie's nervous but determined to get ahold of the situation and emboldened by her success in Cannibal Town. She and Vaggie strategize how to address the crowd well in advance, coached Alastor and her dad on what to say, and, yeah okay, she might have had to promise Alastor another favor or two to get him to agree to go in front of the cameras without glitching them out, but when the day comes, they're ready.

She starts out with some simple statements laying out the facts; no one inside the hotel knew that Lucifer was Alastor's father, including the two involved, the Hazbin Hotel exists purely to rehabilitate Sinners in hopes of helping them reach Heaven to spare them from the exterminations, there are no plans to launch an assault on Heaven, and her only goals are for the good of her people. She has Lucifer and Alastor themselves back up these facts, Alastor even stating that while he personally doesn't believe in redemption, he's there for the entertainment, nothing more, and the help he offers Charlie comes of his own will, not Lucifer's orders. He might be a bit more smarmy than Charlie cares for as he emphasizes he doesn't take orders from Lucifer, but he gets the point across.

All seems well. They've said what they need to, and while not everyone will believe their side of the story, the wind has been taken out of the sails of a lot of these baseless rumors whose only origin was an anonymous source. Charlie opens the floor to questions, aaaaaaaaand that's when the topic of Alastor's mother comes up.

Nicaise isn't part of the press conference. Alastor didn't want her in the public eye, and she agreed. Charlie and Vaggie did prepare Lucifer for the possibility that he would be asked these types of questions, but actually being faced with them is a different matter.

'Who is the identity of Alastor's mother?'

'Does Lilith know about this other woman?'

'How many other women are there?'

'Does Lucifer have more royal bastards out there?'

'Is this why the Queen of Hell disappeared seven years ago?'

'Does this mean Lucifer and Lilith are split up for good?'

'Have they heard anything from Lilith?'

'Will Lilith-'

Lilith.

Lilith Lilith Lilith.

They keep firing questions at him faster than he can answer. He manages to rattle off the answers he and Charlie prepared beforehand, but there are questions they haven't accounted for and the reporters are barely giving him time to think. He begins to stumble over his words, repeating answers he's already given, or just not answering. And the starving vultures, sensing blood, pounce on this display of weakness, implying he's a deadbeat father and unfaithful husband. Charlie tries to call the conference off, but Lucifer's frozen and the reporters aren't letting up. But we all know how Alastor feels about fighting reporters.

It takes him eating just a few of them in eldritch beast mode for the rest to scatter. Charlie guides Lucifer back inside while the poor guy breaks down into a panic attack.

In the Raised Together AU, Lilith met Alastor when he was a child and helped to raise him. She and Lucifer announced his addition to their household a few decades after taking him on, only once he'd grown into his powers some and was able to somewhat defend himself, just in case. When she and Lucifer made the announcement, Lilith was the one leading the conversation and she shut down any questions about infidelity. She and Lucifer were open to one another having sexual partners outside the relationship, so long as they both communicated with one another if they planned to sleep with someone else and got the other's approval beforehand. Lucifer did not do this with Nicaise, but Lilith gave the impression that she was aware of and approved of Lucifer sleeping with Alastor's mother in order to save face with the public. According to Lilith, Alastor's mother was not able to care for such a unique child and so Alastor would be living with them. He was to be regarded as a full member of the Morningstar family and not a bastard. End of discussion.

[little-annie]

Wiggly Worm Wednesday 🪱

@tinytalkingtina I haven't been able to stop thinking about this reverse AU.

Specifically where the girls would fit into this scenario.

Robin

Soccer star. She's captain of the varsity soccer team and is more likely than not going to make it into an ivy league school thanks not only to her grades but also her athleticism. But maintaining the expectations of her coaches, teammates, teachers and parents is stressful. Not to mention being a closeted lesbian on top of that. So what does she do? She goes to the local drug dealer of course.

She tracks down the once upon a time preppy rich kid, Steve Harrington. She knows through the grapevine where to find him. That he spends his days at the picnic table in the woods selling drugs to the residents of Hawkins High. She finds him there of course, but not alone, only catching the glimpse of another Hawkins athlete in the trees with him before whoever it is runs off in a green and gold blur. Drak curls falling from their loosely tied back hair as they sprint in the direction of the parking lot.

Steve's flushed with even messier hair than usual when he comes from the depths of trees. Lips obviously kiss bitten as he confidently gives Robin a welcoming nod.

She'd been scared to meet the man at first but as they sit at the picnic table and he begins to talk and act so disgustingly chatting, Robin realizes Harrington's not all that bad. Maybe a little odd, a little wild eyed at times, but he's kind and almost immediately she feels comfortable in his company.

When she asks to buy some K to take the edge off of life in general, he refuses. Offering her a single joint and conversation instead.

Weirdly enough after that first day in the woods they become something sort of friends. And when at a Halloween party Steve tries to make a move resulting in Robin having a panic attack, Robin comes out to someone for the first time and they some how become best friends while sitting on Tina's bathroom floor.

Or alternatively Robin's punk. But I like the total reversal of Robin and Eddie being athletes and Chrissy and Steve being the outcasts/ underdogs.

Chrissy

Once Hawkins golden girl, projected to become the prom queen and head cheerleader, Chrissy found herself in a similar situation to Steve. Rich family, awful parents, turning to music as an outlet and finding herself immersed.

Jason had broken up with her the summer she decided to reinvent herself and really it wasn't all that much of a loss while she too discovered she liked the company of other women a lot more than men.

She'd joined the school band the following year, picking up a bass guitar and never really looking back. It was then that she decided a future in music was where she wanted to go.

But in the meantime she kept to her new crowd, becoming fast friends with Hawkins senior and resident drug dealer Steve Harrington.

When her parents decided working a real job was the only way to potentially set her on the right path, she started working a part time job at Scoops Ahoy. Instantly regretting her decision to apply there specifically when Eddie Munson, the insufferable captain of Hawkins track team strolls through the door in a matching sailor costume, grumbling about how his shorts are too short and his hat was crushing his apparently best asset.

I don't know 🤷🏻‍♀️ the worms are wiggling and I just haven't been able to get this AU out of my head since discussing it with @tinytalkingtina

Tag! @stellarspecter @withacapitalp @vthx

[my-castles-crumbling]

Anon Advice Asks - February 5th

midnights anon, infinite anon (new), chickfila anon (new), outlet anon, Alabama anon (new), ⭐️ anon

Midnights Anon

Okay so I know I've gotten a couple messages from you in the past few days. I'm gonna try to answer all of them

For your oldest message- I'm so sorry your parents aren't very supportive. As far as your gender, remember that even if you choose to do nothing about it, it doesn't negate who you are. And it also doesn't change that you have time to figure yourself out. there's no rush.

For the message you wrote on Sunday - Honestly listening to your body and not listening to diet culture is SO hard. I still struggle with it every day. I'm proud of you for trying your best! And as far as your dad...he just sounds so picky! Did he ever work in the military? But yeah you're not stupid, that's....a lot.

And for the message you wrote on monday - you are NOT going crazy. But you do need help. Forgive me for needing a reminder, but is there any adult besides your parents you can talk to? A teacher, coach, therapist, anyone? I just want you to have a support system, you know? Also remember there a hotlines you can text and call, there's a list of them on my pinned post! And it's absolutely okay to vent to me, please don't worry about it.

_______________________

Infinite anon

Hi cas,

I really don’t know how to start writing this (it’s the first time I right an anon, idk why I’m so nervous, but either way).

So, imma give first some context cuz I feel it’s needed.

So let’s just say that I’m not the most affectionate person to exist. And well, we were having lunch, me and my family, and my father brings out that I’m not affectionate. I’ve listened to this just way too many times, normally I can control myself, but today I’ve just not been able to and I just get up and go to room and start crying. Then my mother comes and tries to console me and she doesn’t stop touching me. I’ve told her infinite times -emphasis on infinite- that I don’t like touch, I don’t know why but it just repulses me. And she doesn’t stop touching me, so instead of getting better, I’m worse. And through this, she keeps saying that I should be more affectionate, warm, loving and everything. But I think she should understand that she’s asking for me to be someone that I’m not. And I don’t how to communicate this more clearer as I’ve already done so and it has no effect.

Some time passes and suddenly she says. “Are you like this cuz you’d think that I wouldn’t accept you if I knew that you like girls?”

Ok, so this happens and I’m like, what? Like, ok, she accepts it, but how does she know? I mean, around the internet I’m really open so maybe she’s read a comment on a TikTok or something like that. Maybe she’s seen my Pinterest. But she doesn’t know what my TikTok or Pinterest accounts are. Does that mean that she somehow controls everything that I do? I more or less suspected it but I prefer to not think much about it. And also, anywhere that may say that I like girls it says that I’m pansexual. So she must know that. And I feel that she made the comment before with reluctance as if she didn’t want to admit that I’m pansexual. As if if she just said girls and didn’t say the word pansexual it wasn’t real. And I’ve spent a lot of time fighting with myself to come to terms with it. My family’s really conservative and I’ll never forget a New Year’s Eve that we watched first dates -idk if it airs anywhere else, but in Spain it is, as the title indicates, about first dates- and there was someone who was bisexual. So, point is, all of my family was making comments such as “all-terrain”, “2x1”,… And this now lives rent-free in my mind cuz if they thought that bisexuals were that, what will they think I am?

And I also just couldn’t feel more outed. I thought that one day I’d be able to say it and be brave, now I’ve lost the opportunity. I must admit that I thought that if people just discovered it it would be easier, it isn’t. Though I’m still not out to anyone else, so maybe I can do so to them. But that’s also a problem as my brother and my father make too many homophobic comments and then sometimes my friends, although they like to look like allies, they say things like “they’ve appropriated of many things that now I can’t use”, “why do they act like that?” and shit like that.

So now I’m just a pansexual-outed(I wouldn’t consider it outed but the fact that my mother knows and not because I told her makes me feel outed)-mess who also doesn’t feel completely aligned with being a girl, demigirl maybe, but I’ve never told anyone, except the internet. And I feel that if anyone knew, then I wouldn’t be supported in any way and I would lose everyone.

And I don’t know what to do cuz I already censored myself way too much around my family and now I’m doing it even more. Also, I feel that in the upcoming elections from my country my father'll vote to the equivalent of Trump here and I don’t know how to face that -i really hope he changes his mind-. And also, I’ve really started to doubt myself if I’m allowed to want to have boundaries regarding touch. Am I entitled to have sensory issues? I mean, I definitely don’t like having them, but there are parts of my body where I just can’t even fathom a light touch. I feel like my culture is too warm, and I just don’t enjoy it at all, sometimes I feel it too overwhelming.

So, all in all, I don’t know what to do with all of this and I just don’t know how to feel.

Just noticed how much I wrote. Well, if you just read it I’ll be forever grateful, I just had to write it somewhere and i feel that clicking the button ‘ask’ will make me feel much better.

So, thank you for reading.

Hi! First of all, you are ABSOLUTELY entitled to decide when and how you are touched, even if you didn't have sensory issues. You have a right to have absolute control over your body!!

But as far as what your mom said, that wasn't cool. Your sexuality is a separate issue. If you feel comfortable, I think you should tell her that upset you and you wish she brought it up at a different time. But if you don't, just know that that was not okay.

But YES please know your boundaries are ABSOLUTEY okay. Don't doubt that for a second!

_____________________________

ChickFilA Anon

am i a bad person for wanting to live (a little bit) ignorantly so i won’t feel guilty about giving money to not good people?

(ex. I watch Disney still and eat chick fil a and listen to Taylor swift)

My brother is like a super activist and always gets mad when I mention liking those things. I do what I can like buying book secondhand but sometimes it’s just so much work and I would rather order it on Amazon.

I feel guilty when my brother points it out to me, but other times I just don’t care.

Am I a bad person for that?

Here's the thing. I love the people who are able to have the time, dedication, and resources to be super activists all the time. But honestly...and this might be a hot take...activism is only a PART of my life. I try to make informed choices wherever possible, and I think other people should too, but I also have to do my job, take care of myself, be in a relationship, etc. I am a thousand percent supportive of people who can put activism first always, but I can't always do this and I don't just people who don't, either.

Also I think there's a difference between some of these things...like yeah Taylor Swift has a private jet but she also donates millions to food banks. Chick Fil A donates to charities that are anti-lgbtqia. So to me, I feel fine listening to Taylor so I do, but less great about giving money to Chick Fil A, so I actively avoid it. It's relative, ig.

__________________

Outlet Anon

Hey cas, outlet anon here. Man have I had an eventful day. So I ride horses, and today I was working a diffiult horse who's been on stall rest (bed rest) for a while due to some back and hoof problems. He did really well all things considered, and I'm really proud of him! I was able to give his owner a few pointers on riding him in the future and I might get to do it again next week. Anyway, I was riding in a western saddle, which is basically just the ones with saddle horns (the things cowboys hang ropes on), and I hit my thumb on the horn at just the right angle that a small piece got wedged under my nail (not at all the horse's fault) and fell apart when I tried to take it out. I put a bandaid on it anf finished my ride since it hurt a little bit but didn't constitute getting off early. My mother was with me (she likes to watch me ride) and she took one look at it and drove me straight to an urgent care. We waited for an hour (honestly, 'urgent' care? Please. The day those people are 'urgent' is the day I turn straight) before I got called back. Long story short, the doc couldn't get it out (he dug as far uder my nail as he was willing to) so he numbed up my thumb and cut a portion of my nail off (about a centimeter or so). I now have a bunch of shit wrapped around most of my thumb and have to replace the bandages every morning for a week. I get home and my service dog is like "wtf did you do? See, this is what happens when you leave me" so I let him sniff my thumb and the fucking maniac tries to EAT IT. Like... my dog is crazy, I've known that. That's why I bought him. But trying to eat my damn thumb, which is covered in some antibacterial shit that doesn't even smell like anything, is a new level. He chose my thumb over food. That dog loves food more than literally anything. I had to put his shock collar on so the gremlin would stop trying to devour me. So yeah, fun day :):

Honestly the fact that you managed to do that is impressive. I hope your thumb feels better soon! Also it sounds like your dog was rightfully concerned lol

______________________

Alabama Anon

you know that feeling when you’ve got something you really need to tell people? Like you’ve known something for so long and you just want to tell the people you love and get it out into the world. But you don’t. Because you don’t know what they’ll think when you tell them. How could you possibly know what they’d say? Or if they’d still stick around? You know how that feels?

I feel like this currently. The thing I need to tell my people is that I’m bisexual. I live in a sort of rural area in Alabama, so a lot of the people in my town are quite conservative. I don’t even know if there are other queer people at my school. There probably are, but no one has said anything and I don’t want to be the first. I really want to tell somebody though, so I’m telling you. 

I feel like I’ve got a pretty good group of people, but you just never know what people will think. If I came out to the wrong person they could tell the whole school. 

Some of the people at my school already make comments about me. And some of the things they say about the other girls are absolutely disgusting. I honestly want to punch them. 

I apologize for the length of this. It sort of turned into a rant. But anyways, I love your work. I really do like the stuff you write. It always makes me feel happy inside, if you know what I mean. Thank you for reading this whole thing, if you did. I really appreciate it. 

Ugh yes I definitely know this feeling and I'm so sorry that you're feeling this way. Could you kind of 'test out' your friends first by talking about queer celebrities or something and seeing how they react? Just so you can make sure you're safe.

I hope you have a support system in your family or in other people around you. It's absolutely awful having to go figure out these things alone, so I am sending you so much love <3

_________________________

⭐️ anon

so i came out to my dad. it was kinda weird because he came into my room and basically told me that my mom knew that i thought i was bi and wanted to talk about it, basically he told me he would love me no matter what but he just wanted to know (which i was really stressed out about because he’s a pastor) so i told him that i was a girl and i think i like girls too and it went so much better than i thought he just hugged me and we watched a tv show together. i just wanted to thank you for giving me the confidence to actually come out and now i don’t feel like im hiding this huge thing from my family. i probably won’t be publicly coming out soon just because of our current leadership in America but i just wanted to thank you so so so much for helping me.

-⭐️ anon

AHHHH I'm so glad it went so well and your family supports you! I really wish we could say the same about the government, but it makes me so happy to at least know your parents have your back <3 I'm sending you so much love!

____________

6 anon

WE MADE IT TO STATES!!!

Also, I agreed to meet my dad for lunch.

JEY USO WON THE MENS ROYAL RUMBLE!!

AHHHH congratulations!!! That's amazing!! Keep me updated (if you want) on your dad!

[realtapiocafan]

Oh my god I feel so seen 😭😭😭 the way some Bengals’ fans talk about Ja’marr pisses me off (media and other team’s fans too but when it’s our own it drives me crazy). The whole contract situation especially (where they backed out last minute and constantly low balled him) when the details leaked and people said he should’ve just signed it??? The KC game aftermath too, oh my god the micro aggressions were LOUD!! Sorry I forget a competitive, professional athlete can only express emotion when they’re white!!

He was getting stick for saying he deserves a ‘fair contract and what deserves’ like that’s common knowledge?! The amount of other teams who would trade for him in a heartbeat!! I have so many receipts from people shitting on Ja’marr and Tee the last year 😭 I fear it’s worse with Ja’marr as he’s never shied away from expressing himself (which he shouldn’t!! Let my boy be angry! Or Petty! Or Sad! Or full of whimsy!).

Yet another rant below. Don't interact if you disagree that there is a clear element of racism in how black players are covered in the media

The contract stuff pisses me off like no other bc Ja'Marr is well within his rights to demand what he deserves. It's not a new thing to ask for an extension in your third year, now. So why was the conversation always revolving around 'why is Ja'Marr sitting out' rather than 'why isn't the FO getting this shit done'. It's not a new thing that the FO has constantly lowballed its players and is known as one of the cheapest organizations. And Ja'Marr has watched them negoiate with Joe and Tee and Jessie and Joe Mix and DJ -he knows that they do this kinda shit and he wanted to get his extension early! And btw, Ja'Marr trying to negogiate his contract last year was actually better for the team in the future -the bengals not getting it done is gonna cost them at least a few million dollars. So why in the world. were fans angry that Ja'Marr was holding for the money that he deserves?

And I know these athletes get paid millions, I know that the amounts of money they have is something I can't even fathom. But they're also risking their bodies and brains (I got so muchhh to say about CTE and the jokes I constantly hear/see and what a serious disease it is -but. another time perhaps). Ja'Marr, even before this year, has played under a rookie contract for three years. He's earned this extension, with every catch he's made and every touchdown he's caught. Don't blame Ja'Marr for wanting to get paid his fair share! (not directed to you anon, just ranting in general)

Then, regarding the KC game, I'll always remember that moment last Super Bowl, when Kelce started yelling at his coach. I just looked up the articles and it's all 'Why did Kelce start yelling at his coach?' and 'Travis Kelce apologizes for shoving his coach'.

You google Ja'Marr's incident and you get 'Ja'Marr Chase unloads on refs for costly penalty' and 'Chase fined for verbally abusing ref' and 'Chase's tantrum costs his team'.

There is a double standard. One of them is explaining and excusing the player's behavior. The other is blaming the player for their behavior. Is it really a coincidence that one of them is white and the other is black?

These are different situations, yes -one is at the coach, one is at the ref- and not all news outlets are so blatant. Wording makes such a huge difference. But it's another example of the 'angry black man' stereotype, another example of black men are inherently seen as more 'out of control'.

Players get angry at the refs. They get frustrated. It's part of the game. It's why we have penalties like 'unsportsmanlike conduct'. The racist element is how those incidents get covered and talked about, bc they're not covered the same. And when people point it out, it's all 'why are you making everything about race?' Because whether you acknowledge it or not, it is about race. Hundreds of years later, we're still trying to deal with the fact that when white people came to this country, they brought black people in chains.

(And one last thing: following the KC game, I was avoiding Twitter bc I know that I'm only getting angry, but there were a lot of people praising Joe for holding him back and like. Very controversial of me, bc I and a lot of people love Joe'Marr -but if you take out the Joe'Marr aspect of it all. The thought of praising a white man holding back a black man has implications. Mostly being that the black man needs someone to control him, bc he can't control himself. And that. That makes me 🤮)

[wisteria-lodge]

why is Dramione so popular and do you think it's problematic?

I. PROBLEMATIC SHIPS

(scroll down if you just want to read about Dramione)

First thing is, I don't think any ships are problematic.

There are lots of ships I don't *like.* There are ships that squick me, or mischaracterize one of the characters in a way that annoys me, or that I think are boring. But saying something is "problematic" implies that I have an issue with it's existence, and don't think that anyone should ship it ever. And that's just not ever going to be the case for me.

Like okay. I have a really strong dislike of any relationship where Character A is "saving" or "fixing" Character B. (In my head I call them Life Coach ships.) I think that's an unhealthy dynamic that breeds resentment and also doesn't work. You can support people, but in the end they gotta fix themselves. BUT. I'm ALSO aware that fixing/saving the bad boy is power fantasy, and power fantasies are fun, and cathartic, and important. Maybe it's nice to read about Lucius Malfoy or whoever responding to that sort of attention the way you wish your father or partner responded in real life. People are messy, and complicated.

To take an extreme example, I know that some people who've been raped stay away even from sex pollen and fake dating, and others actively seek out non-con, even romanticized non-con, as a way to process and deal. Basically, I think people tend to seek out media that is good for them (or at least comforting) and backspace out of media that's actively hurts them. You probably have a second of disgust where you're like, ugh that's a thing? But you're not going to read a whole Snape/Hermione fic if the premise upsets you.

I bring up Snape/Hermione because teacher/student is a huge squick of mine. Doesn't matter if they're both adults, or if more of an apprentice thing. It's a scenario and a power dynamic that I do not like. BUT. I understand the appeal. The premise of a lot of Snamione fics is... okay, here's this powerful, intelligent, well-dressed guy who is extremely buttoned up and repressed, who doesn't give anyone the time of day. But there's something about YOU (not your prettier friends/classmates) that gets under his skin, and now he's obsessed, wrapped around your little finger. Oh and he's damaged, so he *needs* you. That's a power fantasy. And like, irl you're generally pretty powerless as a 17 year old girl, especially when interacting with men in positions of authority.

Also, like, historically? A lot of fantasies have operated under the heading of "I know it's wrong, but I still can't resist." The fact that something is wrong, is a societal taboo, well - that's a very easy, safe way to get an adrenaline rush, and up the intensity of the fantasy situation. Even the stuff people always bring up when they talk about problematic ships - underage, incest, slavery au but it's framed like it's hot, idk. They're forbidden societal taboos for really good reasons, but I don't think it's crazy to be interested in the big red button that says DO NOT PUSH.

Like how about this. In my experience, actors who play villains tend to be sweetest, loveliest people you've ever met in your life. And I've always wondered if it's because they kind of have to unpack all the dark, sticky, destructive, perverse parts of themselves on a fairly regular basis (and then have a good outlet for those same feelings.) Everyone has parts of themselves that are not "nice" and not "proper." I think fiction is a fantastic place to air those out.

II. DRAMIONE

I am absolutely not surprised that Dramione is so popular. First, Hermione gets shipped with everyone - for a long time she was the character everyone projected on, and while that's less the case now... she's still the most important female character, and she's a *good* character. She's intense, and goes a little extreme with the problem solving. She's good at observing people but not great with people. She misses social cues. She's compensating like crazy. That's good (relatable!) stuff.

And Draco? He slots into the worldbuilding in an interesting way, he's got a *great* backstory, he's arch and a little bit of a shit, but he's also sensitive and squeamish about violence. I also think he taps into that "oh shit I was WRONG" feeling that is such an important part of adulthood. Hermione is also just going to be the walking embodiment of that feeling for Draco, so he's going to feel some kind of interesting way about that

I think Draco is fun to ship with any of the Golden Trio, because they've all got that martyr streak and Draco is a survivor, so they clash in interesting ways and end up balancing each other out. Draco and Hermione especially are both very politically orientated people, so they're a good ship for exploring worldbuilding, wizard world reform, or pureblood politics. I also think Hermione has a feminine, girly side that she feels a little guilty about exploring - and spending five minutes around aesthetic, fashion-conscious Draco is going to give her permission to do that. They both have a streak of practical ruthlessness that I think they would respect in each other. Draco can be... a little lazy, so passionate driven people are good for him. But then I think he would be a nice control for Hermione's workaholic tendencies. Ultimately I think they're actually very compatible.

(also like. Hermione likes quidditch players. and if her crush on Lockhart is anything to go by... she also likes pretty blonde men who dress all snappy.)

[mind-lost-in-the-stars]

AU where Tom adopts/takes care of Max would be designed to take me out specifically because the timeline is brutal and angsty and wonderful….UGHH stay with me while I yap for a second

I imagine Max would have fallen into Tom’s care in his sophomore year of high school (Max would be about 15 around this time). Tom is the coach of the football team and has seen Max coming to practice with unusual bruises and burn marks ever since 8th grade (I like to imagine there is some kind of Hatchetfield Middle that also has a little football camp for older middle school kids that Tom helps out with), and Tom has been working to get Max out of his father care since then. Max ends up in the care of the Houstons which includes Tom, Tim, and Jane because the accident has yet to happen since it’s the beginning of the school year. Max still has anger issues (not as bad as we see in NPMD; I imagine his bullying would be at its peak his senior year as a sort of last hoorah since his “life would be over after high school”), but he never bullies or hurts Tim, and Tom keeps him in his place. Max also now once again has a mother which is something he’s missed for a long long time (I know Jane isn’t implied to be the best person in Nightmare Time, but I like to think she’s a pretty good mom). As time goes on and winter roles around, Max feels happy for the first time in a long time. He helps Tom build things, plays video games with Tim, and sometimes he even helps Jane cook. He starts bullying people less and maybe his grades even start to improve.

Then the accident happens and Jane dies.

Of course Jane’s death hits Tom and Tim extremely hard, but Max loses a mother for the second time. He feels indebted to Tom for saving him from his father, so he steps up for Tom and Tim. He grieves with them, but he doesn’t let his emotions show since Jane wasn’t really his mother or family. His father taught him that men aren’t allowed to show emotions and should instead be strong; Max internalized this deeply and while he was getting better at it since Tom is so kind, Jane’s death has set him soooo far back. Max finds outlets for his grief in cooking and football, but it’s not enough. It’s not enough and he’s still restless and upset; he goes back to bullying just a handful of nerds—the nerdiest of nerds. He keeps bullying Pete, Ruth, and Richie. Once again it’s not as bad as before, but it’s enough for Max to feel like he has some control of his life again.

Fast forward a year, and it’s Black Friday. Max has still been bullying the nerds, but Tom doesn’t know since it’s so minor. He’s noticed that somethings been up with Max, but he’s been so caught up in his own grief and keeping it together and Max says everything is fine so he doesn’t look into it too much. However, Tom does hear about this Tickle-Me-Wiggly doll and wants to get one for Max and Tim since they both deserve it after everything they’ve gone through. In an attempt to connect them both more with his family (and because he feels a bit bad leaving them both alone right after thanksgiving), Tom calls Emma to come watch the boys. Emma brings Paul (her not boyfriend) along, but Paul was also put on babysitting duty, and he’s watching over his nephew: Richie. Max is obviously surprised to see the nerd, and Richie gets a bit terrified but doesn’t want to ruin this for Paul or Emma. Max complains with Tim that he doesn’t want Tom to go, and rightfully gets pissed when Tom does leave to “get a new blade for his bandsaw”. It’s no use, and Tom still goes Lakeside mall to get both of his boys a Wiggly. Max is mad, but Emma is a master at dealing with angry people; she’s a barista, she does it everyday.

The group of Paul, Emma, Tim, Max, and Richie all hang out for the day. Richie shies away since he’s very much scared of Max still, but Max doesn’t pull any shit with him. Richie thinks it’s because adults are around, but then Richie also sees glimpses of Max acting like an older brother to Tim, and he starts to wonder. He wonders about the period where Max didn’t bully him, he wonders about how Max ended up in the Houston’s care, and he wonders what it would be like to be Max’s friend. Max doesn’t have anything to prove at his own house. He let’s himself be more involved in the board games and bonding shenanigans, and even makes a few jokes that Max laughs at.

Maybe life could turn around for all of them…

Since Black Friday takes place during their junior year (I think this is right timeline wise, but I may be wrong) which would give them time to be friends and heal and all that good stuff (assuming they all live past Black Friday). Max gets to live and have a family with the Houstons and gets to learn to be friends with Richie and maybe even the other nerds.

fuuckkkkkkkkkk now I need to make this a whole ass fan fiction and universe ughhhhhhh……<3

also it took me til half way through writing this fucking essay to realize that I was just making my 5 favorite Hatchetfield characters (Richie, Paul, Max, Emma, and Tom) all connected, and I just think that’s a little silly

if u read this whole thing, ur one of God’s strongest soldiers o7

also pls pls plssss let me know if u think of other stuff to add