#nfl top ten

[chaosallstar]

This is my hill and I will fucking die on it

[waklman]

Michelin Star

summary: you give bradley head during a private dinner or the “you say it’s big, but you take it” lyric from frank ocean.

pairing: bradley bradshaw x female reader.

warnings: no use of y/n. smut 18+ blog minors dni. blowjob/oral (m receiving), pwp, spit kink.

word count: 1.3k

nfl au, billionare bradley, a24 actress reader

city of stars masterlist

“Look so fuckin’ tiny next to it. Fuck.” Bradley harshly whispers, fully taken by the way your head shrinks in size when you pose next to his straining cock. His stomach knots at how the shadow of his dick rests over your entire face, as it towers past the top of your head. 

Mouth starting to fill with saliva, all you can do is nod in agreement—not wanting to drool over the expensive slacks he’s zippered down for you.

You could only pray that your plea translates through the wide-eyed stare you’re giving him. Because right now, you’d do just about anything to feel the delicious stretch of his thick cock down throat when he inevitably reaches back there.

Under the dinner table of the Michelin restaurant he’s booked out, the precum dripping down his length slips onto the side of your face and you go to eagerly lick it off once it trails down towards your mouth. 

Though, you should be a bit ashamed—acting like this in a public space, you can’t seem to care as your restraint thinned out long ago.

“Please. So big,” you thickly swallow, chest rising up and down as you pull back to watch him throb in your manicured hand, that barely wraps around his girth. The silk table cloth slips down the back of your tweed Chanel archive dress when you move to look at him.

Through pure instinct, you roll your tongue back in on itself, trying to find the fleeting aftertaste of his salty precum somewhere on there. 

Bradley insisted that you’d wait until the driver drops you both off at his penthouse—but how were you supposed to do that when he casually passed a thick bundle of cash to the waiter, suggesting he say a number between five and ten. Smirking when ten hit his ears, Bradley leaned over his main course to tell you that he’s going to make you cum ten times tonight.

And that's when you started begging hard enough that he gave in, letting his seared steak run cold.

“So big, but you take it anyway,” he hums condescendingly, guiding you towards his leaking tip with the hand he has tangled into your hair. You're not sure if it's his Rolex brushing against the shell of your ear or the thought of someone possibly catching you, but a shiver passes down your spine. 

"My dirty fucking girl,” he suddenly growls through clenched teeth. “Lettin’ me stuff that pretty mouth. Don't even care if someone sees, huh?" 

It's almost pathetic how quickly you nod, bleary eyed as you slowly move down his length, bobbing back up to swallow his tangy precum, desperate to not miss a drop.

It’s a brief thought that cuts through his lust, but Bradley wished the paparazzi waiting outside the tinted glass doors would just fuck off for once. Because if he did so much as move in his seat, they’d get a view of his wife on her knees, cherry red lips wrapped around the head of his cock. 

Tightening his grip, he slightly tugs on your roots, moving you back off him for a moment. Instantly, you dart out a tongue, catching the taste of him that brushes over your chin to hide the disappointment of your empty mouth. 

Bradley couldn’t imagine that your manager would particularly enjoy spending his rare day off—scrubbing lewd photos of his rising movie star off the internet—as that would stir trouble around your growing career. But, what Bradley could imagine, was that he has more than enough money to hire someone else clear the pictures within seconds.

“If you make it quick, I’ll fuck you til’ can’t breathe in the back of the Bently. Got it?” He looks down at you, a stern expression dawning his features. Noticing the haze taking over your vision, Bradley presses further, a tinge of impatience leaking into his tone. “Gonna be a good girl and answer me?”

“I–Yes,” you whimper, regaining focus with a forceful blink. The mere thought of him mercilessly pounding you into the leathered seats with the radio cranked up, stifling the harsh snap of his hips—while the driver blissfully attends to his smoke break, has you instantly clenching your thighs. The carpet under your bare knees scratches at you with the abrupt movement. 

Pleased with your reaction, he scratches at your scalp, prompting you to sink your mouth around him again. “Mm, that's right,” he begins to coo, watching his dick glide past the tip of your tongue. “Thought you’d like that. Making people wait around while you’re crying ‘bout how full you are. Crying ‘bout how you can’t live without this dick in you,” he crudely voices. 

Then like instant karma, an unsuspected groan rips through his chest, putting an end to his teasing.

Bradley’s suddenly forced to bend forward because you’re eagerly hollowing your cheeks, already taking more than half of him. It’s downright shameless how obedient you’re being, sucking in a deep breath and holding it so you don’t gag around his cock.

“Holy shit,” he heaves, steadying his faltering clutch on the roots of your hair. 

“S-Shit. Just like that,” he grits, brows pinched and eyes fixated on the way your nose increasingly gets closer the bejeweled hand you have curled at his base, mouth moving up and down his length, coating him in a clear slick.

The decorated table above you is shaking, the back of your skull cushioned by his thick fingers repeatedly slams against the blunt edge in bursts. 

Bradley’s hazel orbs are dimmed to an inky black color—the only light glimmering through his eyes is from the reflection of burning candles jittering away from its original spot between your plates.

“You tryna’ call the waiter over here? Huh? Needy little thing,” he bites down on his lip, ears zoning in the sound of your muffled moans.

Tongue molding around a protruded vein on his underside, you chase to get the entire stretch of it to lay flat against your tastebuds, ignoring the burn of your mascara in your waterline when your tears mix with it. 

Roughly, Bradley spits a sharp wad right onto the hefty rock perched on your ring finger. “Want you reaching that fuckin’ diamond, baby.” The saliva glossing your wedding ring, spurs you to pick up your pace, sending a continuous vibration down his length. 

Jaw stretched to its limit, your slobber leaks out the side of your mouth. A rush of dizziness surges through you when you finally feel the head of his cock poking the back wall of your throat. 

Curling his other hand firmly around your nape, he mockingly taps his large thumb on the pedant of your necklace. “Almost fuckin’ there,” he runs the digit down line of your throat. “C’mon. Thought you wanted this dick down here.” 

In response, you bob your head faster in unison with the well decorated hand fisted around his length. Above you, Bradley’s incessantly grunting out a string of praise as the wet surface of the glassy crystal nudges at the tip of your runny nose in success. You finally reached the diamond.

Bradley feels the oxygen completely dissipate from his lungs, a sear of building pleasure bats through his ribs while he fights the urge to tip his head back. His eyes nearly shuts, but he wills himself to keep his attention on you. His wife.

And if it’s not the sight of your throat growing in size as his cock spills into it, then it’s the overwhelmed gag that rings around him that finally tips Bradley over.

A shaky praise of Good Girl mindlessly leaves his scratchy throat when you diligently swallow the ropes of cum that shoot down your throat.

Carefully, he moves you off him, lightly laughing when you blankly blink at his deflated dick as if you didn’t just consume his future children instead of dinner.

Moving his hands to cradle your head between them, Bradley extends a thumb to feasibly clean off the smudge of lipstick smeared across your cheek. 

Bradley grins. “You do realize that our waiter who’s been consistently checking up on us, hasn’t come back to our table right?”

The remembrance of the grown man's excitement to constantly ask how the food was, after becoming thousands of dollars richer from the Bradley's loose change makes him laugh again, but you don’t join in.

Instead, you frown a bit as he continues to work off the red stain on your face. “I thought I was pretty quick!” You protest, pondering on how long you actually took.

If you weren’t as fast as you thought, there wouldn't be a chance in hell that he'd start on his promise of making you cum ten times tonight in the car.

Bradley raises an eyebrow at you, biting back his amusement when he says his final statement. “Apparently, not quick enough. Looks like the Bentley is being spared.”

note: did i write this to live out my rich husband dreams, maybe! anyways thank you for reading and as always reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

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[jj-5656]

First and Last With; James Potter

A/N: Hello again! I finally finished that wonderful request, so sorry it took forever. Football (NFL playoffs) and school preparations have kept me preoccupied. Winter break is over and I’m absolutely devastated. For anyone in college, I wish you luck for this Spring Semester. But with that being said, school starting back up means I likely won’t upload as much. So I apologize in advance. Regardless, I hope this makes up for the wait on this request. To the lovely anon and all others, enjoy!

Summary: The one where the Marauders vacation to the Potter’s beach house, and a revealing drinking game ensues...

TW: Descriptions of panic attacks, Sirius is an ass as usual, a lot of mutual pining.

   “Marlene, you have packed half of your house and more, it’s just a week’s vacation.”

“Anything could happen, Sirius. Better to be over prepared than under prepared.”

“I’m just happy James is filthy rich.” Dorcas deadpans, straightening when you and Lilly shoot her a disapproving look. “And so, very generous at the same time.”

“I’m not filthy rich.” James laughs, taking your bags from your grasp and loading them into the trunk for you. Amongst all of your friends belongings, piled high enough to reach the top of the van you’ve rented for the adventure. “We’re just...Comfortable.”

“That’s what all rich people say.” You and Remus look to each other, stunned at your simultaneous blunt confessions. 

“Shush, the lot of you.” Lilly chides, never sparing commonalities. 

“Remind me why we couldn’t just use floo powder? I’m already sweating, and my complexion does not do well in heat.” Sirius fans himself dramatically. James allows you to lift yourself over the mountains of bags with his arm for support in order to reply. 

“When have any of you experienced the adventure of a road trip?” You’re beaming at the thought, James takes your distraction as an opportunity to admire your unusually giddy attitude. Though the real reason you’re so eager to be away from home pulls at his mind, his grin faltering. He pokes your side, grabbing your attention. 

“Miss sunshine gets shotgun, I’ve called it.”

“Prongs, I thought you’d have wanted me to be your passenger princess?”

“Absolutely not, though I’ll miss those luscious locks of yours. I’m driving, so I select my navigator.”

“You’ve been there a million times.” You note, crossing your arms incredulously. James smirks, placing his burgundy and gold quidditch cap atop your head. 

“I’d much rather you keep me company.” He says so only you can hear, unknowing of your flushing when he turns back to Sirius. “Pads, Moons is gonna need a pretty view, it’s fortunate he’ll have you in the middle seat.”

“I’m reading! Reading this entire time, very busy.” Remus teases, pleased with the raven-haired boy’s mock offense. 

You round the corner of the van after checking the trunk for the fourth time, positive you haven’t forgotten any supplies for the trip. James is at the passenger side, holding the door open for you. He’s got a pair of prescription sunglasses on, and looks very different. No less handsome, if anything, the shades accentuate the bravado you’ve always envied. His arms are especially toned after another quidditch season, tanned from the summer sun you’ve missed so dearly. You’re staring. 

“Systems ready, co-pilot?” He beams down at you, pulling his cap over your eyes in teasing. You stick a tongue out at him, pulling his arms away so you can  adjust it right again. 

“I feel silly in this.”

“Nonsense, you look adorable. My clothes suit you.” He defends, so casual you don’t let the words resonate until after he’s shut your door and rounded to the drivers side. 

“Enjoy the passenger seat, princess.” Sirius sneers, pouting despite not holding any true ill-will. 

“Gladly.” 

************

“Are we there yet?” 

“No, Dorcas. Just like we weren’t there ten minutes ago.” James glances at the girl through the rearview, slightly amused with her childish complaints. 

“You know, we could just pull over and-”

“No floo powder!” You and Lilly shout to Sirius, hoping not to have awoken a sleeping Marlene and Remus. Sirius covers their ears, both of them having dropped their heads on each one of his shoulders some time throughout their slumber. You finish fiddling with the radio when a good song comes on, taking a moment to look at the lot of your friends all corralled in the van. 

“Where’s the camera, James?” 

“On my side door here, I’ll pull over if you want it.” 

“Oh, so you’ll pull over for her.”

“Shut it, Pads.” 

“No need, I can reach it.” You lean over the seat, careful not to block his view of the road as you quickly grab it. James swallows, clears his throat to act natural whilst all of his insides begin to burn. 

“Hot?” Is all you ask, studying his discomposure.

“What?” He starts, voice shaky and strained. Sirius falls into a fit of muffled laughter from the back, leaving you confused. “J-Just a little warm, yeah.” Potter recovers, now well aware you were inquiring about temperature. You turn up the AC, taking the cover off the lens and pointing the camera toward the back. Sirius smiles wide for the camera, handsome features lighted by the early afternoon sun. Marlene and Remus drool along on his shoulders as Lilly beams brightly from the back. Looking positively radiant, as always. Dorcas smiles, but holds up her favorite finger to the lens. You grin,full of adoration for the entire lot of them as you snap a couple photos, ensuring they’re all in the frame. 

James admires in increments from the rearview, blowing a raspberry to the camera when you point it at him. 

“Eyes on the road, Potter.” He shakes his head, running a hand over the steering wheel in a mindless habit as he hears the camera snap. Looking over quickly to smile at the lens. Effortlessly handsome, as usual. 

“We have to take as many pictures as possible this week.” You demand, getting excited all over again for the much needed vacation, spent with all your best friends, no less. 

You roll down your window even more, sticking your head to enjoy the warm, salty air. It smells of the beach, grass, all things green and beautiful. You’re so happy your head spins, giggling to yourself as you catch Lilly doing the same behind you. Meeting her eyes in the side mirror and scrunching your nose when she blows a kiss, an embellished hand pretending to capture it in the air and holding it to your heart. 

James does a double take from his view of the road and then you. Trying to stay focused and not find any distraction in your adorably delighted mood. His brows furrow when you shuffle forward, aiming to get even more of your body out of window the feel the entirety of what this beautiful view has to offer.

“Absolutely not.” He chastises, a finger hooking onto your belt loop and tightening. His eyes are on the road, one hand on the wheel as he tugs you back inside. 

“Lame!” You whine, hitting his arm in distaste. 

“I prefer my friends with their pretty heads in tact, thank you.” 

You settle in your seat, still full of delight but a little more contemplative as you think about what got you here.

“Summer vacation!” Sirius throws himself between you and Remus during lunch. Gathering an assortment of food on his own plate. You’ve barely eaten, stomach turning at the thought of being home for two months. You’re nudged from under the table, meeting James’ gaze, whose eyes avert to your abandoned plate. A subtle request for you to eat. You offer a weak smile, shrugging before your friends go on. 

“Two whole months without exams.” Marlene adds, absolutely pleased with not having to spend another second with her nose in a book. 

“We’ll be seventh years, I can hardly believe it.” You’ve considered Lilly’s words the entirety of this last month of classes, absolutely dreading going home. Hogwarts is more home than your house would ever be, and your friends are the only real family you have. You lose your breath at this, biting at the nail of your thumb and wincing when it draws blood. 

“I’m gonna head to the library,” You announce, blinking hard to fight the room from blurring. “Forgot to turn in my potions textbook.” It’s believable enough for the group to nod along, chorusing their farewells as you head out of the great hall. Heart racing and hands trembling. James takes only a moment, eyes following you the entire time. It’s not his business, but he knows that demeanor. He’s seen all of this before, in the boy he calls his best friend. Sirius Black, who leans forward and shoots James a look. Instantly, the chaser is on his feet, mumbling a feeble excuse and heading out of the hall in search for you. 

“I think he left the curling iron on.”

James searches the corridor wildly, all of the students being in the Great Hall makes the search easy, he can follow the sound of your fleeting footsteps with ease in this sea of silence. He follows your distant frame up a set of stairs, cursing to himself when they shift before he can follow your path. He’s searching for a new route, not wanting to shout to you and scare you even more.

There’s a lot of running, a couple instances of tripping over his own feet, but eventually Potter catches up to you. 

You’re sat in a windowsill beneath an overhang of a hallway above, curled in on yourself. James approaches carefully, trying to control his panting breaths. 

“Fuck, James!” You startle each other, studying the other instantly.

“You’re” the athlete coughs, winded, “so fast.” You smile, but it does little to calm you down, because as he gets closer, the view around him blurs, and everything sounds cloudy, distant. 

“I’m,” you try to form words, too loud because you can’t hear yourself properly. “F-fine.” You try to move, try escaping to prevent embarrassing yourself further. Clutching your chest and swiping at the flood of tears that can’t be ceased. 

“You’re not. You’re having a panic attack.” 

“Happened b-before,” you wheeze, staring at your hands to make sure they’re real “I’m good.” 

“And I’m a humble introvert that loves Slytherin, sit down.” You begin to wheeze, rubbing your hands over your legs to stop them from sweating, ground yourself maybe. “I’m gonna hug you, tight. Is that alright?” You nod, because you’re not entirely sure what he’s just said and it’s easier to comply. 

He encloses you in an embrace, loosening for only a second when you fight it. He’s squeezing again, but it’s not unpleasant. You’re shaking, and your breaths are still rapid. James swallows, terrified and unsure. Because all of this usually helps Sirius but he’s still kind of freaking the fuck out.

“Let’s talk about something.” He suggests, wincing when you hiccup for air in reply. “I know you’ll love this. What’s something about me that annoys you?” You’re aware he’s trying to distract you, and you feel like you’re dying, so you give it a go in the off chance it’ll help.

“You’re im-immature.”

“Good. But you’ve done better than that, love.” 

“You’re reckless. You play quidditch like,” you lick your lips, trying to control your trembling. “Like you’re indestructible.” 

“Attagirl, something else?”

“You’re picky, and...And you’re too stubborn to try new things.” James hums, recalling a time you’d forced him to drink pumpkin juice an he hurled in the lavatory minutes later. He rests his chin on your head, pleased when the added pressure slows your breathing. 

“You’d do anything for your friends, no matter the personal expense. It’s self destructive, p-probably exhausting.”

“Ouch. You really know how to flatter a man, love.” 

“I don’t want to go home.” You whisper, so quiet he’d miss it had he not been surveying your every move. The confession shocks even you, and James, for likely the first time in his life, is devastated to be right about something. 

“I’m not gonna let you. We’re going to figure this out. I’m gonna figure this out, I promise.” 

“You’re doing that thing again.” You note, wiping your nose with the sleeve of your robe. Further comforted in the feel of his chest vibrating against you from laughing.

“And you’re forming full sentences.” He loosens, giving you space to decide whether or not you want to separate.  You don’t, not right away, not when you can feel the strong, stable beating of his heart. 

“What am I gonna do? I can’t stay here over break. Even if Dumbledore allowed it, my family would-” You falter, unable to finish. James holds tight again, nauseated. 

“I promised. And I intend on keeping it, love.”

**********

“Land! Sweet, sweet land.” Sirius cries, throwing himself onto the freshly cut grass. 

“James, it’s stunning.” Lilly shades her eyes to admire the shore house. Standing taller than the others around it. 

“It’s home. Away from home, that is.” James shrugs, and you can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. There’s a faint, deep-rooted envy for the blessings your friends hold. Sirius rolls onto his back to look at you, the only one noticing your hunched shoulders amongst the rest of the group beginning to unload the van. 

“Shall we go inside, lovely? Get dibs on the best rooms while these common folk collect our luggage. He extends his arm for you to take, adjusting the sunglasses adorning his face and ignoring the displeased looks of your friends. Stealing a kiss to your temple as he leads you inside. 

“Moony, sweetheart, do be careful with my things. I’ll show you what bed to place them on.”

“Fuck off, Pads.”

“That’s Sir Padfoot, to you.” 

You and Sirius falter, shocked to see an older woman placing the finishings of a homemade meal on the large kitchen table. The inside is even more impressive than the out, but you don’t have much time to appreciate the decorum. Considering you’re engulfed in an oddly familiar embrace. 

“Welcome, welcome!” She beams, holding Sirius’ face and kissing his cheeks with small pinches. 

“How’s my Siri?”

“Alright, mum. Thanks. James didn’t mention you’d be here. Though it’s a very happy surprise.” He looks at the wrinkled, stunning woman that smells of lavender and tea like she’s hung every star in the sky. It’s then you make the obvious connection this is Mrs. Potter. 

“Oh, he doesn’t know either. I’m only here to make sure you’re all settled in and then I’ll be on my way. We haven’t visited here in a while, I wanted to be sure it looked alright for you all.”

“Hard to imagine it ever looks less than gorgeous,” you say without thinking, “thank you for having us. This is lovely.” 

“And so are you, dear. Sirius, tell me this beautiful young girl is with you?” She strokes your hair, and it’s the most comforting touch you’ve likely ever felt. 

“Only in my dreams, unfortunately. Unless dear y/n would like to make a wish come true?” You laugh, swatting away his puckered lips. 

“Y/n? Oh, I’ve been waiting to meet you! Sweetheart, Jamie talks about you so much in his letters!”

“Let’s get waste-Mum!” James drops the bag in hand, yours. Pulling the handle of liquor behind his back in pure shock. “What are you doing here?” 

“Thought I’d have a warm meal waiting for you kids. You must be starving after that drive. Though I’m so happy you did as opposed to powdering here. Shows some responsibility. And Jamie gets so sick sometimes with the powder and all-”

“Mum!” The taller boy repeats, setting the array of luggage in hand down and hiding the bottle behind it. 

“I’m doting, aren’t I? Remmy!”  She stops herself, rushing over to envelop the taller boy in her arms. He, just as Sirius, is absolutely pleased to see her. She goes down the line of girls, putting faces to names and genuinely loving every second of it. James sighs, no genuine distaste in his nature as he observes.

Sirius throws an arm over your shoulder, cheeky as ever. “Mum was just telling us about your letters home.” 

“You’re just as pretty as he said you were. All you girls are so beautiful!” She goes on, blissfully unaware of her beet-red son. 

“She exaggerates.” James scratches his neck, skin burning with embarrassment. 

“Does she?” Siris pulls you closer, basking in your shared humiliation. 

“This food looks wonderful Mrs. Potter. Thank you so much for thinking of us.” Lilly clasps her hands together, rolling her eyes fondly at James’ indebted glance. 

“Call me Euphemia, please. And yes, you all must be starving. Come, fill those bellies with something warm.” You’re in a state of shock as you sit, unaccustomed to such hospitality and genuine kindness. It’s evident where James gets his big heart, undying selflessness. 

The food is amazing, you all go for seconds with a chorus of shared appreciation and compliments. Euphemia beams as she collects her things, pleased to meet the lot of friends her son cares for so deeply. 

“All the beds have fresh sheets, and there’s extra throw blankets in the linen closet. Jamie, your father says go easy on the fire whisky. He’d ask for no drinking, but we all know that’s a long shot. Don’t break anything, and Remmy, keep everyone in check.” The taller boy nods swiftly, no doubt having heard the orders before. James gets up from his seat, kissing his mothers cheek and enveloping her in a hug. 

“Thank you mum, seriously.” She fixes his hair, wiping invisible smudges from his face in a fit of doting. 

“No problem, I’m glad you were all able to make it here. You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like. All of you.” Theres a quick moment where she meets both you and Sirius’ eyes, the two of you nodding with feigned smiles. Quickly, she kisses both Moony and Padfoot’s heads, stopping for only a moment to caress your cheek with her thumb, a faint sadness in her gaze. Everyone else is enveloped in conversation, passing servings across the table as they would at the Great Hall. 

“You’ll keep an eye on my Jamie, won’t you?” She whispers, touch soothing you with an unknown ease. 

“Of course, though I’m not sure he needs it.” You hold her wrist, somehow not minding the affection whatsoever. 

“So he likes to think. He does, really, speak so fondly of you in his letters. You’re even more lovely than he described.” You want to cry, so overwhelmed with her generosity and love, a maternal energy so strong it’s wiped your mind of any anxieties. 

“Alright, mum. Let the poor girl eat.” James guides her toward the fireplace, while his mother pats his arm and says something to him you don’t quite catch. James’ ears burn bright red, and he nudges her gently so she’ll stop looking over at you. The rest of the group turns toward the fireplace, echoing their farewells and gratuity as she waves. Floo powder enveloping the space around her and sending her off. 

“Does that turn your stomach just looking at it, Jamie?” Marlene mocks, the rest of your laughing through bites of food as he flips her off. 

“Fuck off, the lot of you.” 

“We should start cleaning up.” You suggest, taking your own plate and bringing it to the sink. “This way we can unpack before the sun sets.” Lilly follows, taking her and Dorcas’ plate to you as you begin washing. Sirius groans, grabbing a dish towel from one of the drawers and drying the dishes you hand him. 

“Can’t we just charm the sponges to clean these?”

“Dad had them countered so they can’t be charmed. Said it was supposed to teach me some ‘household responsibility.’” Sirius howls, thoroughly amused.

“I’m just curious about these detailed letters back home.” Remus mutters as he carries his plate past James, dodging his swings and rushing toward the group at the sink for safety. 

*****************

After everyone’s settled in, and you’ve all recovered from the ‘who called what room first’ arguments, there’s an obligatory round of shots. A bin begins to pile high with cans, and you’re all sat around a bonfire atop the Potter’s outdoor furniture. Even the furniture for the backyard looks expensive, so you clutch your drink in hopes not to make any spills. 

You’re buzzed now, skin tingling with an uncommon ease as you lean against the arm of the couch. Sea breeze easing the warm air as the fire pops in front of you. 

“Alright, none of you are drunk enough.” Sirius chastises, shifting in his seat and tossing Lilly another beer. “Never have I ever,” you all groan in half-assed annoyance as the name of the game sounds, “been snitched on by Peeves.” 

You and the rest of the girls take slow, ashamed, sips. The boys all looking over in amazement. 

“We snuck out one time! All I wanted was a bloody butter beer.” Marlene confesses, flushed. James stretches as he approaches, still sore from driving. He passes you his cup, grinning when you cringe at whatever concoction he’s come up with. You move your legs so he can sit beside you, the rest of the couches having been taken. 

“It was a terrible craving, but nonetheless worth the loss of points for Gryffindor.” 

“Is that why we were tied with Ravenclaw mid semester?” Remus laughs over his cup. 

“We still won the cup!” You and Lilly defend, James taking hold of your legs to place them on top of his. He isn’t even thinking about it, too enthralled with the teasing conversation before him as he slides a hand under the cuff of your jeans. Warm hands calloused from quidditch running over your shin. You’ve always found affection with him comes easier than with others, and the touch comforts you, electricity lingering on your skin. 

“Never have I ever, had my first kiss.” Because Dorcas also aims to have the rest of you drinking more, she says what she thinks is the most common proposition. Your stomach turns, and you debate on taking a sip just because it’ll spare you the embarrassment. You must consider it too long, because Sirius’ brows shoot up in shock. 

“Merlin, how?” Is all Sirius manages, the girls’ jaws dropping because you’ve never told them. 

“I volunteer!” Marlene shoots a hand up while you curl into the cushions, wishing you’d just had the drink. 

“It’s not that there haven’t been opportunities.” You struggle through the explanation, tugging on the sleeves of your shirt to fight the cold. “I just, I guess, want the first one to matter. If it’s been this long I may as well make it special.” They all coo in mocking, laughing when you flip them off. 

“I get it.” James pats your leg, taking generous sips of his own drink. 

“You don’t.” Theres an amusement in your tone, no real meanness to any of it. 

“Well what about that Hufflepuff third semester, he was totally into you.” Dorcas inquires. 

“Are we seriously this interested in my love life, or lack thereof?” You roll your eyes when they all agree, giddy from the topic and the alcohol. “I thought he was into me, but I don’t know. We stopped talking after a while.”

“Wait,” Remus narrows his brows, too contemplative to see James’ signals. “That curly haired guy, beater for Huffle?” You nod, giggling because he’s not usually this slow to understanding, clearly inebriated. 

“Wasn’t that the kid that came up to us at Hogsmeade, Prongs?” Potter vehemently shakes his head, chugging his drink again. 

“Nope, I don’t think so.” 

“No, I’m pretty sure it was. You two didn’t get on that well, I think.” Sirius covers his mouth to muffle his laughing, basking in Moony’s drunken confession. 

“You sabotaged me!” You frown, James grabbing your leg so you can’t kick his side. 

“Listen, I overheard him boasting in the locker room. He’s not the type you should be around. Trust me.” He’s sincere, enough to make you relax. 

“He was a bit of an ass, sweetheart. Prongs isn’t entirely wrong.”

“You two are still snog-blocks.” Dorcas is quick at your defense, crossing her arms in solidarity.

“If I wasn’t banished to solitude, I’d kiss you, Dorcas.” 

“Time and place, lovely.” You clutch your heart, feigning a blush in your antics.

*********

“Alright, I need my beauty rest. Someone needs to remain the prettiest of the friend group.” Sirius stretches, tapping a dazed Remus on the cheek to get him up. His actions initiate the turning in of the rest of the group. To which you and James groan. 

“It’s only 2, you’re all lame!” Potter sneers, looking to you for consolation. You nod along, displeased with their departure. 

“You night owls can stay up as long as you want, but we have all week to be sleep deprived.” Marlene ruffles James’ hair and kisses your temple as she stupors inside, giggling all the way with the other girls. 

“And then there were two.” You stretch, moving over when James shifts, moving into a laying position. In order to fit comfortably, you still have to keep your legs over his. “You know, now theres three other open couches.”

“I like it here.” He decides, enclosing his hands over his chest and settling in. You chuckle, letting him tangle his legs in yours. 

It’s confusing, because he chooses you as his passenger, his seat-mate, scares other guys away. Fuck, he planned an entire trip just because you and Sirius have such shitty home lives. Guilt twinges in your chest, and the alcohol allows you to finally say what you’ve been holding in since you first got in the car. “James?” He hums, hazel eyes looking up at the array of stars in the night sky. “Why did you do all this?” Potter sits up, looking over to you in disbelief. 

“Why wouldn’t I? Don’t you like it here?”

“Like it? It’s a shore house filled with all of my closest friends and alcohol. I love it here.” He laughs, nudging your legs with his own in teasing. 

“I’ve been wanting to ask you something,” he starts, answering your question with one of his own. “Would you be willing to spend the whole summer here?” 

This time, you sit up, brows raised in shock. “Sorry?” 

“Instead of having to go home, you could stay here.” 

“James, I couldn’t possibly intrude like that-”

“It wouldn’t just be us two.” He unnecessarily reassures. “I’ve already spoke with Pads, and he’s staying. My mum doesn’t want him going home either.”

“You already talked to your parents about it?” 

“In the chance either of you said yes. They both are more than happy to have us stay here. There’s internship positions at my dad’s company, and he said if we looked after the house and helped him out, we’d be more than welcome to stay.” 

“Are you starting a shelter for the broken homes club or something?” You jest, not in poor taste, but because it’s the only defense mechanism you know. James frowns anyway, upset at the thought.

“I care about the both of you. And...I’d never want either of you going home to- Well, anything other than a place you feel safe. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you. Knowing I could have stopped it. Understand?”

You nod, warm tears brimming in your eyes. Because in a world full of people that don’t, James Potter cares. You tackle him in a hug, overcome with the foreign feeling of being cared about, protected. He falters, wrapping an arm around your waist with a small laugh. 

“That’s a yes, then?” You nod, smile pulling at your lips when he uses his thumb to wipe away your tears. 

“James?”

“Yeah?” He’s soft-spoken now, eyes studying yours as you press your hands to his chest. 

“Is there...Any other reason you told that guy to stay away from me?” He swallows, licking his lips with an unusual anxiety to him. He meets your eyes again, pleading for another hint.

“Would you want there to be?”

“I’d like to have my first kiss.” You play with a pull in his sweater, fighting a smile at his nervous demeanor. “Would you want it to be you?” He nods, slow, and honestly unsure if you’re fucking with him. Considering how embarrassed he’d be if this is some joke, or a dream, maybe. “James?” You move closer, and he snaps out of his daze.

“I would.” He averts his eyes to your lips, back to your eyes again to ensure you’re sincere. “Like to kiss you, I mean.” 

You remove the space between you, putting your lips to his and hoping it comes natural like everyone says. It must, because he’s pulling you into his lap, a hint of a whine escaping his throat. You grin, flushing at his eagerness. He squeezes your sides harder, a warning. 

“Stop it.”  He continues past your jaw, down your neck, hearts thrumming with excitement and uncertainty. He tilts your head with his thumb, grinning when he nips at your skin and you gasp. Pulling back, he surveys his work, kissing you two more times before letting you breath. 

Is that what I’ve been missing out on?” You pant, energy coursing through you and accentuating your buzz tenfold.

“Up to expectations?”

“Exceeded, I’m pretty sure.” You blink hard, taking hold of his wrists and moving them so they can slide under the hem of your shirt. You hold them at your waist, a silent sign to keep them there. Though you’re sure he would have anyway. He kisses you again, more intense this time, finally allowing all the pent up tension between the two of you release. 

James, against every fiber of being in his body, pulls you away from him. Both breathing hard to collect yourselves. “While I’d really, really like to keep this up.” He starts, trying not to reconsider when your perfume envelopes his senses. “I’d like to take you out for dinner first. If you’ll let me.”

“Are you asking me on a date, Potter?” You whisper, teasing him as if it’s the hottest gossip to reach Hogwarts. 

“Are you gonna say yes, pretty girl? Or leave me hanging?” You nod, and James throws his head back against the cushions, absolutely relieved. 

*************

You blink awake, fire still burning brightly after being charmed by Lilly earlier in the evening. In the midst of you and James conversation, filled with recalling old times, plans for the rest of the summer, and a lot more alcohol, you both fell asleep. James’ jumper covers your frame, while the boy lays on the other side with only a sweater to keep warm. 

“Prongs.” You nudge him, wincing when he groans. “It’s too cold, let’s go in.”

“Too tired,” he croaks, voice riddled with sleep, “too drunk. Come over on this side.” He rolls on his back, groaning again when the world spins with him. 

“What, like...Next to you?”

“No, curled up on the floor like a cat.” Your brows furrow at his sassiness, fighting a smile as you crawl over. Muttering a half-assed apology when you nearly knee his groin. 

Hesitantly, you place a head on his chest, letting him grab you under one knee and pulling it up so you leg rests over his abdomen. Immediately, he releases a deep breath, fully relaxed. Your body, though, tingles with that same electricity from before, keeping you awake. 

“Sleep.” He orders, nudging the back of your head with his shoulder, eyes closed but somehow aware.

“Can’t.”

“Is this alright?” He blinks awake, afraid he’s made you uncomfortable. 

“Good, this is good.” You reassure, pulling on his jumper so it covers both of you. He pushes your arm away, tugging on the fabric and covering only you again, stern in his actions. 

“Close your eyes. I need us both to sleep this alcohol off so I can kiss you again.”

“Who says I’ll let you, Potter?”

“I may have been your first kiss, but I’m also aiming to be your last. So please, Dove, shut up and sleep” You’re speechless, he’s stunned you with his confession and simultaneous attitude. 

“I hate you.”

“I seriously doubt that.” There’s a smile on his face, you can hear it in his grumbling voice. Wordlessly, he moves the arm that’s under you so he can stroke your cheek, eyebrows, and jaw with the hook of his finger. Knowing the gentle touch will send you off to sleep. And it does, because you don’t wake again until morning. 

********

“Rise and shine, love birds. If you want to hoot with the owls, you’ve got to fly with the eagles.” Sirius chimes, a click of a camera sounding out after he speaks.

“Any louder, Pads, and I’ll break your jaw.” James covers your ears, shielding you from your friends shrill laughter with an intense glare. His head pounds something awful, and he’s pretty sure he’s never been this hungover in his entire life. He remembers every second, though, memories of last night bringing a dopey smile to his face. Despite the alcohols consequences. 

“Hey.” He nudges your arm, ignoring the gawking of his friends through the glass sliding door as he wakes you. You yawn, stretching atop him and regaining sense of your surroundings. 

“Are we supposed to be spinning?” James rolls his eyes, much too fond of you for his own good. 

“We have to get up, theres breakfast.”

“I can’t eat a single thing right now.”

“Yes you can,” he pushes you again, sighing in feigned annoyance when you rub your face into his shirt. Shielding the morning light from your eyes. In one swift movement, he sits you both up and hurls you over his shoulder, ignoring your squirms of protest with an obnoxious yawn. He sets you down at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, grumbling a hello to your astonished group of friends. You’re too hungover to feel embarrassed, smiling a thank you to Remus when he slides his glass of orange juice toward you, Sirius’ sunglasses over his eyes. 

“Gimme those,” you plead, extending an arm that’s quickly swatted away.

“Get your own,” he whines, “I let you have my juice.” You accept this, nursing the glass as though it’ll save your life. 

“Late night?” Lilly teases, putting a plate of food in front of you and James. You both groan, but offer your gratitude for breakfast anyway. 

“Figured you would have at least made it inside.” Marlene chastises, amused with your zombie-like states. You frown when James finishes what’s left in your glass, watching as he leans across the counter to grab the carton and refills it. Sirius places a steaming cup of tea in front of you and Potter, avoiding your distrusting gaze as he clears his throat to speak. 

He’s awfully cheeky all the sudden, hoisting himself onto the counter with his signature mischievous grin. “Never have I ever…Had my first kiss?” His voice tilts in questioning at the end, and you’re momentarily displeased with the realization you’ll be spending the rest of the summer with the shit-starting bastard you consider a friend. 

You’re absolutely flushed, curling in on yourself when a chorus of cheers erupts after taking a swift sip from your mug.

[swappingbryn]

Boosters Association

The university had a very generous boosters association, the athletic department received tens of millions in donations, so much so that the school itself didn’t contribute anything to any of the teams.

The school attracted top talent and was a feeder to the NFL, NHL, MLB and NBA, all of which had owners and former (but no current) players that contributed heavily. As a result, every team had the newest and best of everything, unicorns, equipment, facilities, which meant the teams performed incredibly well. It was a glorious cycle of victory, rewards, improvement and success.

But strangely, the players never seemed happy about any of it. Every student wanted to be scouted by the school, it had a reputation of excellence, ever athletics member that graduated either went on to professional teams or received a lucrative position at a boosters company. When asked, each one provided the same response, nearly verbatim, “(team) is a lot of hard work, dedication and team work. It is not something I undertake lightly, but I am glad to be here.”

The dirty secret was that the boosters expected more than just publicity and tax benefits from the players. Depending on how much they donated, boosters got more from players. The lowest tier just covered Home Coming weekend, there was also Spring Break week, and both Winter Break and Summer Break required additional expenses because they not only had to pay the school but also the students directly under the guise of an “internship.”

The top players were basically drones. They had no rest, they ate, slept, class, practice and games, but had no weekends, no personal time, no vacations or breaks, as all those times were given to boosters. Sometimes even games were taken from them, when a former professional player paid to be able to play again.

@mr2swap

[mamaestapa]

Sick Day|| Joe Burrow x reader

•pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

•summary: You take care of a sick Joe<3

•warnings: sick Joe, the flu, vomiting, lots of fluff

•word count: 1.8k

•A/N: I thought I’d post this for all of you that are waiting for a Welcome to the Jungle update (which is coming this weekend!) This is from my NFL imagines book on wattpad! :)

You were sitting on your couch, getting ready to watch (your favorite tv show) when your phone rang. You picked up your phone, smiling when you saw your boyfriends contact name, shiesty❤️‍🔥, on the top of the screen.

"Hey Joey!" you greeted cheerfully.

You heard a sniffle on the other side. Was he crying?

"Joe?" you questioned, "What's going on? Are you okay?"

"I think," he cleared his throat, "I think I'm sick, take care of me?"

His voice was raspy and he sounded congested. There was no thinking he was sick, he was definitely sick.

You frowned, "I'm sorry baby. Do you want me to bring anything?"

"Just you. Please." He finished his sentence with a cough.

"Of course, I'll be right over."

Joe nodded on the other line, but you couldn't see, so you were met with complete silence.

"Joe?"

He sniffled, "Oh, sorry. Okay, I'll see you soon."

"See you in a bit, I love you."

"I love you more."

You hung up the phone with a sigh. Usually when you get a phone call from Joe, he's more upbeat and cracking jokes every other line. You figured he must feel pretty bad then since he’s doing neither of those things.

You stood from the couch, going to your bathroom to freshen up before heading over to your boyfriends house. You live about ten minutes away from Joe's house, which speaking of his house, you currently are in the process of moving out of your apartment and into his house. It's taking a little while for you to get all of your things over to his place, but once the off-season is here, you'll be moved in with Joe.

You brushed your hair and changed your outfit, putting on a pair of black leggings and one of Joe's old LSU sweatshirts. Once you were ready, you left your apartment and headed for Joe's house. You texted him to let him know you were on your way and that you'd stop at the store if he wanted anything. He just replied with a simple "No thanks", so you drove straight to his house.

Once you arrived at his house, you unlocked his front door with a house key he gave you. You didn't want him to get up and open the door, especially if he wasn't feeling the greatest. You took your shoes off and placed them on the shoe rack, next to Joe's Nikes. You walked down the entry way and into the living room, frowning at the sight in front of you. Joe was laying on the couch with a blanket wrapped around his body. One hand was laying over his forehead while the other was placed on his stomach.

"Hey baby," you said, walking over to him.

Joe smiled softly at you, "Hey sweets."

You leaned down next to him, placing your hand on his cheek. He brought down the hand he had placed on his forehead, placing it on your forearm.

"How are you feeling?"

Joe sniffled, "Pretty shitty." he smirked, "but at least now I have a sexy little nurse to take care of me."

You shook your head, laughing at what Joe had just said. Even in his current state, he still had a comment to make. It made you smile, happy to hear your boyfriend was somewhat still his usual self.

However, your smile soon turned into a frown as you took in his appearance. He was paler than usual, with dark purple under eyes and a pink nose. You felt both of his cheeks and his forehead, checking him for a fever.

"You definitely have a fever."

He nodded, "Yeah, I took my temp about an hour ago. It was one hundred one point two."

You frowned, asking "Does anything hurt?"

Joe closed his eyes, "My head. My stomach hurts a little bit too, and my throat. I cant stop sneezing either."

"You poor thing, I'm sorry." You said, voice laced with sorrow as you gently stroked his cheek. Joe leaned into your touch.

"Can I get you anything?" You asked.

Joe started to sit up. You stood from your leaning position, helping him sit up. He smiled softly at you, muttering a "thank you".

"Just," he took a deep breath, trying to hold back a sneeze. It failed and he sneezed anyways. Joe groaned, "Oh god, I'm sorry."

You chuckled, "Don't apologize, Joey. It's okay."

"As I was saying, just holding me would be great." he said, bashfully. Joe wasn't one to initiate the cuddling, you always were. You smiled at him, sitting down on the couch next to him. Joe carefully laid back down, resting his head on your chest. He hummed as he snuggled himself into your breasts.

"Are you comfy?" you asked with a laugh.

"Very." He nodded, pulling the blanket over his shoulders.

"Good." you said softly. You brought your left hand down to his blonde hair, running your fingers through it gently and scratching his head every so often. You hoped it would lull him to sleep (which he desperately needed). As you ran your fingers through Joes soft strands of blonde hair, you noticed he started to stir a bit.

You placed a hand on his shoulder, "You okay?"

He nodded. You put your hand back in his hair, running your fingers through it, but stopping when you heard Joe groan softly. You didn't have time to react when Joe threw the blanket off of him and sat up, abruptly.

Uh oh. You thought.

"Joe-."

He cut you off, "I think I'm gonna be sick." He got up from the couch and sprinted off towards the bathroom.

"Shit." you cursed to yourself, jumping up from the couch and running into the bathroom. You frowned as you saw Joe hunched over the toilet. You sat down on the edge of the bathtub, rubbing his back up and down, trying your best to soothe him.

"It's okay, babe. You're okay. Just let it out".

He sniffled as he pulled his head out of the toilet bowl. He wiped his mouth before looking up at you. The look on his face made your heart break. He looked absolutely miserable.

"Oh, Joey."

You stood from where you sat, opting to sit down against the wall behind him instead. As soon as you leaned against the wall, Joe was instantly in your arms. The back of his head was laying on your chest while you wrapped your arms around him. He placed a hand on his stomach.

"Baby, I think I'm dying." He croaked dramatically. You couldn't help but laugh.

"You're not dying you big baby. I think you just have a bad case of the flu."

He groaned, snuggling himself further into your body. You put your hands in his hair, gently massaging his scalp.

"Sitting on the floor of your bathroom can't be comfortable." You murmured gently.

"No, but you are."

You smiled, "I'll cuddle you on the couch, okay?"

You felt Joe nod in response, so you carefully stood up from the ground, careful not to jerk his body too much. You helped him off the ground, tightly holding his hand.

"Do you feel like you're going to be sick again?"

He shook his head, "No. Not right now at least."

"I'll bring the trash can just in case. Now, you go get comfy on the couch, okay my love?"

He nodded, slowly walking out of the bathroom. You frowned as you watched him. You hated seeing him sick. Joe didn't get sick often, but when he did, it was just like this. You grabbed the trash can from the bathroom and went into the kitchen to grab a grocery bag to line it, just in case he did get sick again. You grabbed a bottle of blue gatorade from Joe's fridge, along with a bottle of sprite. You made sure to grab two straws too, one for each drink. You walked into the living room, setting down the trash can next to Joe. He smiled up at you.

"I brought you some sprite to settle your tummy. And a gatorade in case you get tired of sprite, plus the electrolytes are good for you."

He chuckled, "Thank you, sweets. Although it makes me sound like a child when you say that."

You giggled, placing the drinks on the coffee table.

"Can I get you anything else?" You asked, reaching out to caress Joes cheek. He brought his hand up to yours, holding it against his flushed skin.

"Cuddle me?"

You smiled, "How could I say no?”

Joe smiled softly as he slowly sat up to make room for you on the couch. Once you sat down and were comfortable, You put your arm up on the couch. Joe tucked himself under your arm pit, laying the side of his face on your right breast. Once he was comfortable, you grabbed the blanket and placed it over his body. You put your arm down, your hand laying on his blanketed bicep.

"Thank you for being my sexy nurse today, Y/n."

You laughed, rubbing his arm. "Oh Joey, Even when you're sick you can still crack jokes."

He hummed in amusement, "But seriously, thank you for taking care of me."

You leaned down and pressed a gentle, loving kiss to the crown of his head, "There's no need to thank me. I hate seeing you sick, I'd do anything to make you feel better."

"Oooh, anything you say?"

You shook your head, "Not that. Gotta get you feeling better first, Mr. Burrow.”

He chuckled, "Hopefully I'll be better tomorrow."

You hummed, rubbing his bicep, "I hope so too. Now," you brought your hand up to his hair, slowly running your fingers through it, "get some rest, okay?"

"Okay." He said quietly as he sniffled.

"I love you Joe."

"I love you more, sweetheart."

You spent the rest of the afternoon and evening on the couch watching SpongeBob and cuddling with Joe. Thankfully, he felt much better the next day and he got his wish for you to do anything to make him feel better ;)

hi loves!

as you wait for more welcome to the jungle updates, if you have any requests for imagines about joe, feel free to send them to me. i will happily write them for you!

hope everyone is doing well<3

[gaynfl]

does anyone wanna hear about the funniest "top ten moments before disaster" moment from this season of the nfl?

[tanadrin]

@m---a---x

Wait, how is college us football being professional a good thing?

Short answer: college football players provide enormous economic benefit to the universities they play for, and universities make enormous amounts of money off them, both indirectly through the profits they accrue just from having a prestigious football program in general, and specifically in terms of licensing players' likenesses. Football players deserve to be fairly compensated for their work.

Long answer: the NCAA was formed as a cartel to destroy the ability of college sports players to be fairly compensated for their work. On that basis alone, the NCAA delenda est. On top of that, the NCAA delays entry into the NFL for players who are good enough, sells players who aren't an unrealistic dream, and lets colleges skate by with frequently giving football players an inadequate education (because they're really there to play football and everybody knows it). All these problems exist for all sports the NCAA regulates, of course, but by virtue of football's popularity, the problems are exacerbated to their worst degree in football programs.

College athletic programs do not exist to serve the needs of students. That much should be obvious: students don't need stadiums that cost tens of millions of dollars, or coaches who command multi-million dollar salaries, to have high-quality on-campus sports clubs. And if the concern really was providing high-quality on-campus sports clubs to students, colleges wouldn't have to be bullied into providing similarly good facilities for women's sports by Title IX, they would do it as a core function of providing facilities for those clubs in the first place. But women's sports aren't popular spectator sports, and varsity college sports like football and basketball, exist first and foremost as spectator sports, programs designed to turn a profit.

On top of all that, as soon as you start looking into the NCAA and American college sports in general, it becomes obvious this is a hive of corruption and villainy and exploitation as bad or worse than the IOC or FIFA; but the more specific sins and abuses of the system don't need to be laid out to make the justice of the fundamental premise obvious: players should be fairly compensated for their labor! Anti-competitive cartels should be destroyed!

[sassyfrassboss]

The only thing I'm annoyed about so far in the Superbowl are the sign language interpreters. They need to be on the same stage as the performer for the main broadcast instead of shoved off to the side ten yards away. Otherwise it's accessibility to check off the box and doesn't mean anything for the NFL's diversity program.

I'm also not a huge Taylor Swift fan - I like her music fine

well, it's the Suits reunion commercial for T-Mobile

Anyway, I'm not a Swiftie. I ike her music, her songwriting is decent, but her fans and some of the things she does are so over the top. I don't care for how overexposed she is (and the fact that she both simultaneously knows she's overexposed and doesn't think she's overexposed is irksome) but I do truly like how unbothered she is by the 'dads, chads, and brads' complaining about her existence.

So I have been listening to Taylor since she dropped her first single. I was a sophomore in college at the time.

I like her. I'm not a hardcore fan but I admire the fact she has worked her ass of to get where she is today. She is talented and creative. I think she can be OTT at times and she seems to have a vast array of friends but that's her personal life. There is actually a part of me that hopes her and Travis work out. She truly seems happy for once in a relationship. It seems natural and not contrived like others.

What I don't like is her wading into US politics.

Celebs needs to stay out US politics. They have zero clue what day to day citizens go through.

[woman-respecter]

Just wanted to jump into the debate here about Swift and Kelce. I'm neither a Swifty or a football fan, but I do want to make a few points:

Travis Kelce doesn't have to "clout chase." He's ranked in the top tens, and is considered an NFL all-time tight end for receiving ends. Which means jack to me, or probably most of Tumblr, but it is to say that for football nerds everywhere he has achieved clout in other ways.

His mother is 76. She gives no effs. Her son is now a Superbowl champion, a top 10 (or 100, depending on the year) NFL player who has set records. Even without Taylor Swift, she's the mother of a famous person. Like, she's just riding the rest of her days with whatever amount of fun she can have. Like, Lady was born before Hawaii and Alaska formally became states. She was born during the Korean War. Give her a break.

While I would generally refrain from participating in stereotypes, like "you just know guys like that, yada yada yada," because they're harmful (as many other stereotypes are), it is worth recognizing that Kelce is at an extreme risk of having chronic traumatic encophalopathy (CTE) (which happens when you get too many hits to the head and chronic concussions), which also results in cognitive decline, depression, anxiety, among other things.

yeah these are mostly good points, tho i want to say that CTE can cause agression too so i am still concerned about that

[superbeans89]

It’s RWC eve, and with kickoff tomorrow at 8:15 PM UK time, some speculation is in order for the 9 people on tumblr who follow it.

For those who don’t know, rugby union is a sport not far removed from American football, based more on evasion than contact however. There are 15 players on each team, and the ultimate goal is to get the ball grounded in the other team’s try area - comparable to the end zone in NFL. Unlike NFL though, the ball can only be passed backwards in rugby (unless you’re kicking it), turning it into a whole different ball game, so to speak.

Should a team achieve this, they score 5 points, and can attempt a conversion - that’s kicking the ball from a tee between the upright posts - for an extra 2. Penalties can also be kicked for 3 points outside of try scoring situations, making for a strategic and slightly complicated scoring system, though yet again NFL fans won’t be unfamiliar with it. It’s worth noting that games have been won solely on penalty points though, so don’t underestimate them.

Now, for the teams:

As it’s still a developing sport, not even competing with the likes of soccer or cricket, there are only 20 participating teams in the RWC. There are several countries that have adopted it as their national sport however, including Wales, New Zealand, and many of the pacific islands.

Of the four pools, only two from each will advance to the quarter finals, while third placed in the pool will automatically qualify for the next tournament, giving teams plenty to play for, even if they aren’t going to win every game.

With that said, there are favourites and no hopers among those that have qualified;

The Favourites

🇫🇷 - France. As this year’s hosts, France are currently ranked 3rd in the world, and are notoriously unpredictable. Able to beat - or lose to - just about anyone, France have been the bridesmaids of the Rugby World Cup three times now. With flair, team depth and a home field advantage, they’re expected to go far, and should be guaranteed a place in the semifinals or better.

Which French team shows up may be revealed when they play New Zealand in the opening match.

🇮🇪 - Ireland. Ranked number one in the world, but with a poor record at World Cups, never getting past the quarterfinals, Ireland don’t thrive under the pressure of expectation, preferring to act as the underdog and surprise people instead.

Nevertheless, with a dedicated following, solid recent form, and trailblazing coach Andy Farrell, this could be the year they break that curse, though they’ll have to escape the Pool of Death first.

🇳🇿 - New Zealand. Historically the best rugby nation on the planet, New Zealand were near unmatched in this sport until recently, remaining at the top of the rankings for almost ten consecutive years. Their form has taken a dip recently, particularly after a record breaking loss to South Africa, but only time will tell whether the infamous All Blacks can bounce back, or if they were just hustling.

🇿🇦 - South Africa. As the current champs, alongside terrific form and team depth, the Springboks are expected to go far this year. While they are also stuck in the Pool of Death with Ireland and Scotland, they have a tremendous pedigree in the sport, matching New Zealand’s record three victories, despite featuring in two less World Cups. Thriving under pressure, the Springboks combine esteem and unconventional playstyles - you’ll hear the phrase ‘bomb squad’ used a lot when they’re playing - a lot of fans will see this World Cup as South Africa’s to lose.

The Dark Horses

🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 - Scotland. Currently ranked 5th in the world, Scotland are in strong form and have surprising team depth for such a small rugby nation. Unpredictable and world beating on a good day (yet still waiting on that historic victory against the All Blacks), Scotland would be expected to do well this year… if they weren’t in the Group of Death alongside Ireland and South Africa. These are both teams Scotland can beat, but will they remain consistent for a full eighty minutes of play? That’s the main concern.

🇦🇷 - Argentina. Often forgotten as a rugby nation due to their soccer pedigree, Argentina are one of this tournament’s secret weapons. With solid form, growing momentum and a lucky placement in the pools however, los Pumas can probably reach the semifinals.

🇦🇺 - Australia. Famous rivals to the All Blacks, Australia’s form has fallen in recent years, but not to the point where they should be counted out. Almost causing a massive upset against New Zealand, leading them for most of the game on their own turf, when the Wallabies get it right they can be deadly, and they’ve won this tournament twice as well, so don’t write them off just yet.

🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 - England. Having won the RWC in 2003, not to mention inventing the sport, England have a rugby pedigree that can’t be denied. Their recent form has been poor however, recording several record losses, as well as a first ever loss to Fiji. While they should make it out of their pool - though this is largely because it’s the easiest pool by far - England won’t be expected to go much further, maybe scraping past the quarterfinals if they’re lucky.

🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿 - Wales. Between funding issues and player retirement, Wales are a depleted side this World Cup. While inconsistent across previous tournaments, they have notched up some remarkable results in the past, and could do so again under legendary coach Warren Gatland. It’s far more likely that they’ll struggle however, and may not even make it out of the pool this year, with Fiji and Georgia looking strong.

The No Hopers

🇮🇹 - Italy. While their form has been good, and they’ve made great strides in recent years, Italy are grouped in with France and New Zealand, the latter of which they’ve never beaten. Short of a miracle, Italy won’t be making it out of their pool.

🇫🇯 - Fiji. Recording a famous win in Twickenham on their last warmup match, Fiji have form and momentum on their side, and will be aiming for the quarterfinals. They likely won’t get any further, but for a tiny island nation, Fiji punch well above their weight.

🇼🇸 - Samoa. Having upset traditionally stronger nations at previous World Cups, Samoa could surprise a few opponents this year too. Beating either England or Argentina for a qualifying place will be a tough ask, but never say never.

🇹🇴 - Tonga. Also in the Group of Death with Scotland, Ireland and South Africa, Tonga will be gunning for an upset. Their form has been strong, and they perform immensely well for an island of 100,000 people, but escaping the pool will probably be too much of an ask.

🇬🇪 - Georgia. Europe’s ‘other’ rugby nation dominates in the second tier of competitive play, and will hope to upset Wales in this World Cup, just like they did in Cardiff last year. With Fiji also vying for the same spot though, their rough and tumble playstyle may work against them in the long run, as fitness is definitely an issue for bulkier players.

🇯🇵 - Japan. After stunning South Africa 34-32 at RWC2015, and graduating from their pool by beating both Ireland and Scotland at RWC2019, Japan will hope to take advantage of their reputation as the wild card, and escape pools a second time. With England looking vulnerable it’s not impossible, but poor form and and equally hungry Samoa may hold them back.

‘We’re just happy to be here!’

🇺🇾 - Uruguay. South America’s second best rugby nation has grown massively in recent years. Ousting Canada from the qualification rounds, they’ve featured at plenty of World Cups, and even got a surprise win over Fiji last tournament. In a strong pool with France, New Zealand and Italy however, they’ll be fighting with Namibia for what will likely be their sole victory of the tournament.

🇳🇦 - Namibia. Similarly to Uruguay in many ways, Namibia are also the second best in their continent, behind the mighty Springboks. Also in the same group as Uruguay, they’ll be aiming for a single win, with no real hope of graduating from their pool.

🇷🇴 - Romania. A World Cup mainstay, The Oaks have been to all but one tournament, and even that absence was mired in controversy. Between lacklustre recent form and rampant funding issues however, Romania will be lucky to get a win in what’s by far the toughest pool.

🇵🇹 - Portugal. Another nation known more for their soccer, Portugal won’t be expecting much from their pool. If they get a win, they’ll be ecstatic. They qualified by the skin of their teeth, but they made it here. That’s reason enough to celebrate, and it’s only a short plane trip home.

🇨🇱 - Chile. Debuting at RWC2023, Chile qualified with a last gasp victory over the USA, and will likely end up bottom of their pool. Still, qualifying at all is a massive achievement for a nation with such a small following.

…and that’s everything. RWC2023 is considered the most open World Cup in the sport’s history, with as many as six or seven viable contenders. Whoever holds the Webb Ellis Cup aloft in a few weeks is up to debate, but it should be entertaining nonetheless. Game on!

[chrissyfied]

❝ trick or treat! ❞

* autumn/halloween sentence starters! 🍂🍁🎃

It was the first Halloween party of her freshman year of college in Indianapolis. A school she decided on to still be close by to her brother, wanting to be sure he got on by without the struggles of drastic changes most kids went through in transition from middle school to high school. It was not in the top ranks of any Ivy League by any means, but it was enough to pursue cheerleading on a possible professional level. She was thinking big - NFL range. If that didn’t work? An educator would be the so-called realistic approach.

Her mother surprisingly helped her with the costume. It was also the only way to get an accurate one, rather than something that was bunched up in packaging and could rip at any minute. Originally, Chrissy wanted to dress up as Tinkerbell. She was the perfect height, with a petite frame to match with the fairy but it came with more details than the red Princess Buttercup dress. It had to be her favorite costume so far, and she had attended a lot of costume and themed parties since her popularity sprouted back in the 8th grade.

This was also the first time she was actually looking forward to not only attending but also partly hosting a party in one of the frat houses on campus. And, it had everything to do with who she invited to who she was matching with that evening. She invited him early, too. Just an hour before the rest of the attendees arrived, even met up with him the weekend before just so he wouldn’t get lost and knew exactly where it was.

She was simply running a routine check to make sure the bar was stocked, before there was a knock at the door. “I got it!” All said in a single breath as she ran past the roommates and other hosts to answer the door. She took a second to pause at the door and catch her breath, while also making sure her hair and costume were okay after the rush to the door. After pushing down any nerves that came up, she felt a calm at the very sight of Eddie in his Dread Pirate Roberts costume.

It was easy to get in her head when he wasn’t around, thinking worst case scenarios of him becoming bored and wanting to leave ten minutes into the party. This wasn’t Hawkins by any means, and her choice of friends were actually chosen rather than chosen by association. “Treat.” First word right out of her mouth, unable to hold it back, just like the look of awe in her expression. “— to see you.. have you here!” She corrected herself in a rush. After all, he could have decided to not show up, and yet there he was. “Come in, come in. I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

Poor choice of words, because it sounded like people had arrived early but it was only the ones in the house. Once Eddie stepped inside, she closed and locked the front door and stepped up to be by his side as she made a gesture with her hands. “Everyone, this is Eddie. Eddie, this is Odette, who prefers to be called Odie. Preston is at the bar, Adam is our main host and DJ.” As she introduced the group one by one, they were each welcoming to Eddie. “Miranda and Sarah are still upstairs.”

@outsidermunson

[strictlyfavorites]

Donovan Edwards #7 above

HOUSTON — It's now how you start, the classic sports trope says. It's how you finish.

Turns out, the answer is both.

Behind a powerful running game, Jim Harbaugh and the Michigan Wolverines put together stellar first and fourth quarters in a 34-13 triumph over the Washington Huskies to win the 2023 national championship.

On the opening possession at NRG Stadium, Kalel Mullings slipped out of a tackle to pick up 14 yards before Donovan Edwards rushed for a 41-yard touchdown. Edwards ripped off a 46-yard scoring scamper on the next drive, and Blake Corum soon followed with a 59-yard sprint.

Nine carries, 174 yards, two touchdowns.

And that was merely the opening frame.

Michigan's initial surge on the ground sparked the final victory of the team's 15-0 campaign—one that secured the program's first national title since a shared 1997 crown.

Monday brought a familiar blueprint for Michigan, which focused on the run while the defense owned the game.

Washington quarterback Michael Penix Jr. zipped his picturesque spiral throughout the night. However, the Maize and Blue prevented an offense that entered bowl season leading the country in passes of 30-plus yards from completing such a throw for nearly 53 minutes.

In total, the Dawgs mustered 301 yards with Penix averaging a meager 5.0 yards per attempt on 51 throws. He tossed two interceptions and dealt with constant pressure from Michigan's disruptive front.

That defensive effort proved vital for the Wolverines, who struggled to move the ball in the middle quarters.

They managed a field goal after Will Johnson snatched an interception on the first play of the second half. Otherwise, the offense had a stretch of five punts and a turnover on downs. The lull allowed Washington to hang around until the midpoint of the fourth quarter.

Clinging to a 20-13 lead, Michigan found some breathing room.

Colston Loveland's 41-yard reception led to Corum's decisive 12-yard touchdown run with 7:09 left in regulation.

Washington drove inside the 30-yard line on the ensuing possession, but U-M's star nickelback Mike Sainristil picked off a 4th-and-13 prayer, returned it 81 yards and set up Corum's second touchdown.

Michigan closed the victory with 303 yards and four trips to the end zone on the ground. Corum collected a team-high 134 yards and two scores, while Edwards added 104 yards and two touchdowns on just six carries. Plus, quarterback J.J. McCarthy chipped in 31 yards.

And the celebration was on.

Nine adventurous years into his tenure—one which may be ending in the immediate future if rumblings of his potential return to the NFL are true—Jim Harbaugh is a national champion.

The prodigal son, officially, has brought his alma mater back to the top of the sport's proverbial mountain.

If that was Harbaugh's final game, what a fitting way to finish.

HC Jim Harbaugh

During the last three seasons, the Wolverines have boasted one of the sport's best offensive lines. Michigan earned the Joe Moore Award—which is given annually to the country's top offensive line—in both 2021 and 2022 before Washington landed the honor in 2023.

Earlier in the week, U-M left tackle LaDarius Henderson told On3's Andy Staples that "it definitely stings" the blocking unit missed out on a three-peat.

Winning a national title in that fashion is a decent consolation prize.

The future of the program will rapidly become the greatest focus in Ann Arbor; Harbaugh understandably side-stepped questions about the NFL at multiple media availabilities throughout the week.

On this night in Houston, however, the nation's No. 1 team won in the same manner it had all year: Run the ball and shut 'em down defensively.

Michigan started the season that way, never wavered and rode the philosophy to a third consecutive Big Ten title and third straight trip to the College Football Playoff.

It's how you start. It's how you finish.

And the Wolverines have ended as national champions.

[lboogie1906]

William Anthony Perry (December 16, 1962) is a former football defensive lineman who played in the NFL for ten seasons, primarily with the Chicago Bears. Nicknamed “The Refrigerator” for his imposing size, he played college football at Clemson University and was selected by the Bears in the first round of the 1985 NFL Draft. He gained popularity during his rookie season as a member of the Bears team that won the franchise’s first Super Bowl. He played fullback in goal-line situations and set the then-record for the heaviest player to score a touchdown at 335 lbs. He remains the heaviest player to score a touchdown in the Super Bowl and has the largest Super Bowl ring at size 25.

He attended Aiken High School and played as a 295-pound nose guard on the school’s football team and ran on its track team. During an exercise in which his coach instructed all of his fastest players to line up for a 100-yard dash, he joined the group of running backs, wide receivers, and defensive backs and was timed as the 6th fastest runner on the entire team, with a time of 11 seconds flat. He was able to run the 100 meters in under 12 seconds and competed in the shot put event, recording a top throw of (53 ft 11 in). He could execute 360-degree dunks on regulation basketball hoops and perform a complicated dive into the swimming pool.

He has been married twice and has four children. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence

[balaenopteraricei]

hey guys!! I need your help. I have the opportunity this summer to march with a world class DCI corps (more information on what that is under the read more) but it's pretty expensive. I'd really appreciate if y'all could donate a dollar, buy pasta (up to 50% of profits go to my tuition!), or just reblog to help me reach more people. this is something that is super super exciting to me and I am so absolutely pumped.

please dm me for donation/pasta links

I don't feel comfortable posting a link straight to my full name so please shoot me a dm and I'll can hand out either the pasta or the donation link. any little bit helps and I'm so grateful I get to do this <3

"I have the super exciting opportunity this summer to go on a tour with a music group! As a member unit of Drum Corps International -- “Marching Music’s Major League,” it is very exciting for me to be a part of one of the world’s most exclusive & elite national touring ensembles as we celebrate our 31st Anniversary season and DCI’s 51st Anniversary tour.

If you are not familiar with our group and the activity in which we are involved, I would like to ask for just a minute of your time to tell you a little about it. The Jersey Surf is made up of more than 100 musicians and dance performers between the ages of 16 & 21, who come to be a part of our organization from throughout the USA & beyond. We are interested in furthering our musical and performance education and becoming trained as future leaders through our involvement with The Jersey Surf.

The organization was started in 1990 and is a model of excellence in youth programming – I am very proud to be a part of this special group of people. Being a member of The Jersey Surf will allow me the opportunity to receive instruction from some of the top arts educators in the country, tour the United States, and perform before tens of thousands of people this summer along with our entire team people just like me. During the summer we will travel extensively, on our way to the prestigious DCI World Championships in the state of the art NFL Lucas Oil Stadium in Indianapolis, IN.

[neondarklight]

Some of my favorite Hivemind moments

Dan Marino

Justin Long

Performance enhancers/"My name's Dignan"

Kill Edward

JK Rowling burning in a house fire

SportsCenter Top Ten Clips of the Week

"Gamestop."

"I SOLD CRACK TO A PINE TREE"

Draining Camp

Stapleton

Wooden Horse Kentucky Derby

Goose mode

Gary Vee's house being powered by incinerating Capuchin monkeys in a furnace

Riley's entire family dying in his arms

Antisemitic Pokémon

"Picture Diggy grinding"

"Funny how?"

Killing someone with a golf putt

Sandra Bullock in the NFL

[godizawoman23]

Biggest Sporting Events In The United States 🇺🇸

1. Super Bowl

2. Final Four (NCAA)

3. NFL OPENING NIGHT/Weekend

4.NFL DRAFT

5. DAYTONA 500

6. NBA ALL STAR GAME

7. KENTUCKY DERBY 🐎

8. MASTERS ( golf ⛳️)

9. MLB ALL STAR GAME

10. US OPEN TENNIS