#pickleball near me

[webuniseo]

Uniting Enthusiasts: The Vital Role of a Pickleball Association

Introduction: Pickleball Association, a sport that seamlessly blends elements of tennis, badminton, and ping pong, has been steadily gaining popularity across all age groups. As this exciting sport continues to capture hearts, the role of a Pickleball Association becomes paramount. In this article, we delve into the significance of a Pickleball Association and explore the ways it fosters community, growth, and competition within the realm of pickleball.

Building Bridges: The Purpose of a Pickleball Association

A Pickleball Association serves as the cornerstone of unity for players, enthusiasts, and even newcomers to the sport. By bringing together individuals who share a passion for pickleball, associations create a platform for networking, learning, and sharing experiences. From organizing events to promoting the sport's ethos, these associations contribute to the sport's widespread appeal and longevity.

Nurturing Growth: Development Programs and Workshops

One of the core missions of a Pickleball Association is to nurture the growth of the sport. Through structured development programs, workshops, and coaching initiatives, associations ensure that players of all skill levels have access to resources that can enhance their abilities. From introducing beginners to the basics to refining advanced players' techniques, these programs play a pivotal role in raising the overall standard of play.

The Heartbeat of Competition: Tournaments and Leagues

Pickleball enthusiasts often find their competitive spirit ignited through tournaments and leagues organized by associations. These events not only provide a platform for showcasing skills but also foster a sense of camaraderie among players. Whether you're a casual player or a seasoned competitor, participating in these tournaments can be a thrilling experience that solidifies your connection to the sport and the larger pickleball community.

Creating Connections: Social Events and Networking

Beyond the court, Pickleball Associations curate social events that go beyond the game itself. From meet-and-greet sessions to community picnics, these gatherings foster genuine friendships and connections among players who share a common interest. The bonds formed through these events often extend far beyond the sport, enriching lives in unexpected ways.

Supporting Sportsmanship: Ethical Play and Respect

Pickleball Associations play a vital role in upholding the values of sportsmanship and respect within the community. By establishing codes of conduct and promoting ethical play, associations create an environment where fair competition thrives. These principles contribute not only to the integrity of the sport but also to the growth of players as individuals.

Joining the Movement: Embrace Your Local Pickleball Association

As the pickleball craze continues to sweep the nation, there's no better time to connect with your local Pickleball Association. Whether you're a seasoned player or a curious newcomer, these associations offer a gateway to a world of fun, friendship, and active living. By becoming a part of the pickleball community, you're embarking on a journey that transcends the boundaries of the court.

Conclusion: The Pickleball Association is the heartbeat of the sport, pulsating with the collective energy of players who are passionate about pickleball's unique blend of competition and camaraderie. From facilitating growth and development to fostering ethical play and community spirit, these associations lay the foundation for a sport that unites people from all walks of life. So, whether you're looking to enhance your skills, make new friends, or simply revel in the joy of pickleball, your local Pickleball Association is waiting to welcome you with open arms.

[d1a2v3i4d5]

Upgrade Your Game: Pro Paddle Pickleball Set in Canada

Discover the best pickleball set near you with the Pro Paddle Pickleball Set featuring a high-performance Glass Fiber Paddles Set. Experience superior quality and performance with these top-rated pickleball paddles and rackets. Elevate your skills and dominate the court with the ultimate pickleball set available in Canada.

[wheeboo]

some sky photos from last night cuz we smiled a lot :)

are those even stars? i have no fuckinf clue prob not but oh well we looked up at the night sky, put our feet in the air, and thought maybe this little life isn’t so bad after all 🫶

[waatticontractingnc]

At Waatti Contracting, we specialize in the design, installation, and maintenance of sports courts tailored to your specific needs. Whether you’re envisioning a basketball court for your backyard, a tennis court for your community, or a multi-purpose court for your school or organization, we have the expertise and resources to bring your vision to life. Our team of skilled professionals works closely with clients every step of the way, from initial consultation to final completion, ensuring that your sports court is built to the highest standards of quality and craftsmanship.

Business Hours: Mon — Fri: 8 AM–5 PM Payment Methods: cash, check or card

Contact Info: Waatti Contracting Address: 158 Tributary Cir, Wilmington, NC 28401 USA Phone: +1 910–800–9498 Mail: Shanew@waatticontracting.com Website: https://waatticontracting.com

[rallysportsclub]

Summer Camp at Rally Sports Club in CA

Summer camp at Rally Sports Club is about to start. Up for Action-Packed Activities? Dynamic Experiences? Exciting Games?

If yes, then Rally Sports Club is organizing a Summer Camp from 8th July to 30th August, 9 AM to 3 PM.

Children aged 7-14 years can register for:

Badminton Classes for Beginners

Learning Table Tennis for Beginners

Learn Pickleball

Elevate your summer with adventure and lasting memories. Enroll in the Fit n Fun Summer Camp for an unforgettable experience!

[racquet-sports]

Pickleball originated in 1965, and this game has quickly become popular among players of all ages. But how did pickleball get its name? This article will explain the history behind this odd title and why they chose it. The sport was believed to be named after one of the creator’s dog – Pickles – who would chase after the ball as it bounced across their backyard court.

Pickleball’s Origins

Pickleball is a sport that has been famous over the past several years, and its origin story is often overlooked. It all began in 1965 when three dads were looking for something to do while their kids were away at summer camp.

Joel Pritchard, Bill Bell, and Barney McCallum came up with pickleball as an enjoyable alternative to badminton. They created it using some of the materials they had on hand, such as wooden paddles, ping pong balls, and a low net made from a badminton court.

Early Beginnings

The pickleball game got its name from a funny story involving the creator’s dog, Pickles. According to legend, pickleball was invented by three men on Bainbridge Island in Washington State during the summer of 1965.

[timothyledick]

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[gaily-daily-musings]

Literally no one asked for the nursing home reverse trope and because I am upset I'm taking it upon myself to make y'all suffer

(I've decided to make it a senior community rather than a nursing home)

-

Obi-Wan is 55. An official senior. He hates it. It's awful. Quinlan won't stop making fun of him despite being older than him.

Despite his initial hesitation, the community is regretfully nice. Mace and Yoda and Qui-Gon are all welcoming. He never thought he would be reduced to this but when the divorce hit he'd lost the house. He'd been living with Quinlan for over a year and felt bad for taking advantage. Given his money situation, his options were reduced to a housing community for seniors. He'd heard about it through Qui-Gon who was on his pickleball team.

There's a young man (34) working there. A maintenance man named Anakin Skywalker. Anakin is quite handsome and very charismatic. The ladies will often flirt with him and giggle over his arms. It's all harmless fun. Normally Obi-Wan isn't one to leer, but goodness he was certainly striking.

Obi-Wan near has a heart attack one day when he witnesses Anakin in swim trunks attending the pool. Lord, he's never felt like such a lecher. He's not used to this. To looking. He's a monogamous sort of a man. Never cheated. Even when he and Satine started growing apart years ago he never wavered.

Obi-Wan starts working out more for no particular reason. He was always fit for his age but feels more self conscious than ever. He tries to tell himself he was just trying to stay healthy, but he knew he was lying to himself. He feels ridiculous. The hell was he doing? Anakin was just a nice man jokingly flirting with the elderly. It wasn't serious.

The center puts together an annual event for the residents. This year they decide the theme is “senior prom”. It's stupid. Quinlan talks him into RSVPing.

Anakin is invited by Maria, one of the ladies who is particularly forward in her intentions. Obi-Wan tells himself not to be jealous and fails spectacularly.

Throughout the evening Anakin dances with several ladies. Obi-Wan yearns from the sidelines. He tries to work up the courage to ask. He's not afraid of being rejected, he's just afraid Anakin will see he's being earnest. Did he even want to be taken seriously? Did he want to pursue something real?

Maria makes her way to Anakin again as I've Had The Time of My Life plays. She has no shame as she feels up Anakin's arms and strokes his chest. He takes it in stride and winks down at her. She laughs as they spin around the room.

Three songs later Obi-Wan contemplates slinking back to his room.

“Would you like to dance?”

Obi-Wan startles. He hadn't heard him approach.

“I…uh, y-yes…” he stammers.

He takes Anakin's hand feeling like a school boy. His heart flutters in his chest. He knows Anakin is just being nice, he's already danced with everyone else after all, but he can't help the blush on his cheeks.

Obi-Wan let's Anakin take the lead as he's unsure if he'll be able to keep his head on straight.

“Did you go to your school prom?” Anakin asks.

“Yes. With my ex-wife actually. You?”

Anakin smiles. “Coincidentally I went with my ex too.”

“I didn't know you were divorced.”

“Widowed.”

Obi-Wan winces. “I'm sorry.”

“It's fine. You didn't know. It was years ago anyway.”

They move slowly across the floor. Obi-Wan consciously keeps his hands where they are appropriate.

“So, any kids?”

“Twins. They're 13.”

Obi-Wan chuckles. “I don't envy you. I remember when my son was that age. He went through a whole goth phase.”

Anakin laughs. It's beautiful. “Aw man, you would have hated me then. I was really into the goth scene as a teen.”

They keep talking and dancing. At some point Maria kindly asks for her date back and they reluctantly part.

-

They come across each other while Obi-Wan is visiting the local park. He sees Anakin walking a dog as his kids eat ice cream. He doesn't want to intrude on what is clearly a family outing. But then Anakin spots him and waves him over.

Anakin introduces his children.

“You're that old guy dad talks about,” Leia says.

Anakin flushes.

“Did you fight in a war?” Luke asks. “Do you have any battle scars?”

After the initial awkwardness and round of interrogation, Anakin asks Obi-Wan if he wanted to join them for dinner. Unable to find a reason to say no he accepts.

For the record, Obi-Wan isn't an idiot. Normally when a young person sought out the company of a significantly older person, it was because they were a gold digger. But Obi-Wan hasn't much money to offer. He doesn't have much of anything really. He recalls Anakin mentioning that he never knew his father. With a heavy heart he realizes perhaps that was why Anakin wanted to be around him. He was an older father figure to him. Of course that must be it.

After dinner Anakin tucks his kids into bed (or rather just Luke as Leia has outgrown that). Obi-Wan helps clean up. Anakin says he should stay. It was late and he didn't want to send him home like this. Besides he had work in the morning so they could go in together.

Anakin lets him have the bed and sleeps on the couch despite his protests. The next morning Anakin sees the kids off to school. Obi-Wan makes everyone breakfast as a thank you. Anakin then drives them to the senior community. Obi-Wan gets out and goes to his apartment.

He is unfortunately seen getting out of Anakin's car. Rumors fly. His friends crowd him for details. Obi-Wan tries to tell them nothing happened but nobody believes him.

On his 56th birthday his pickleball team takes him out to celebrate. Little does he know that Qui-Gon has invited Anakin. He shows up with a present. Its pink shorts with the word pickleball on the booty. Obi-Wan's face feels warm.

Soon Anakin has to leave to go pick up his kids from school. Now gone, Quinlan takes Obi-Wan aside to ask him when he's gonna make a move on Anakin. Obi-Wan thinks he's being insane. Never? Anakin wasn't interested? Now Quinlan looks at him like he's the insane one.

“He literally gave you booty shorts! He wants to see your thighs!”

“That was a joke!”

Quinlan sighs. He asks the table if they thought Anakin was into Obi-Wan. They all say yes immediately.

“I thought you were already dating?” Bant asks.

The next day Obi-Wan sees Anakin doing maintenance in the lobby. He starts up a conversation. It was so easy to talk to him. Far too easy.

“By the way, thank you for your gift yesterday. Though I'm not sure they'll fit me, they may be a little small.” He jokes.

“I dunno, I think they'll fit just fine.” Anakin deliberately looks him up and down, lingering on his ass.

Obi-Wan gulps.

-

Later Obi-Wan is doing some swim aerobics in the pool with Yoda and Qui-Gon. Yoda mentions having had a heart attack two years ago.

“Seize the moment, one must. Lest life passes you by.” he looks straight at Obi-Wan as he says it.

Obi-Wan blinks. He frowns. He really didn't appreciate his friends barging into his love life. He tells them so.

“What love life? You're single.”

Obi-Wan has no retort.

Is it so wrong to not want to burden a strapping young man with someone like him? Someone who is wrinkled and old and has nothing to offer?

After swimming Obi-Wan grabs a towel and heads off back to his apartment. It's just a short walk over to the building. On the way he spots Anakin between the hedges fixing a sprinkler. He pauses. He looks down at his protruding belly. The worst he could do is utterly humiliate himself and be forced to avoid Anakin the rest of his life. Or until he moves.

“Hi.”

Anakin looks up. He smiles.

“Hey.”

His eyes linger on Obi-Wan’s chest. He swallows. It gives him the boost of confidence he needs.

“I was just, um, wondering if perhaps you wanted to…have dinner again? I can cook.”

Anakin hums, “I can't this week.”

Obi-Wan nearly deflates. He tells himself it's not the end of the world. It's fine. He starts to retreat, backing up the way he came.

“Sorry, of course. I didn't mean to impose. Anyway, I have to head back but it was nice to see you.”

Anakin catches his arm. “Woah, I didn't say I didn't want to, just that this week is no good.”

Obi-Wan blinks.

“But next week I'm open? I can pop by after work. That is if you're up for it still?”

Obi-Wan smiles. “Yes I'd like that.”

Anakin's hand lingers on his arm. Neither wanting to pull away just yet. Obi-Wan clears his throat.

“What would you like? F-for dinner I mean.”

“I'm not picky. Surprise me.”

“Alright then.”

“Alright.”

From the sidelines, Qui-Gon, Mace, Yoda, Maria, and several others are watching from inside the pool center. Maria sighs forlornly. “Should have known he would steal him right out from under my nose.”

“I think it's sweet,” her friend Amanda says.

“Very sweet.” Yoda nods sagely.

[cognitohazardous]

ad for a trump pickleball paddle caused me to choke on my drink. yea there would be a trump pickleball paddle thats the most appropriate sport to represent trump. fucking pickleball. the hot new shitty sport trending among middle class married couples. they all flock to the new pickleball center that was built atop a wetland near their suburban neighborhood so they can drink margaritas and wine spritzers while playing pickleball with their church group every friday night after work. with their trump pickleball paddles upon which is adorned the image trump posing for the camera after someone failed to kill him.

[laura1633]

can you do a short smutty drabble of max wanting to fuck charles, and charles just wants to win the paddle match

Hi Anon,

Thanks for the ask ♥️ I am not sure if this is the dynamic you were asking for but this is what randomly came to me so I just went with it as I was too tired to think too much. Hopefully it is still okay. I have actually spent the day playing pickleball and squash so racket sports have truly wiped me out today😂

*****

“Max, wake up” Charles hums softly against Max’s ear, his breath warm as it fans against the Dutchman’s skin. 

Max grumbles something in his sleep. He is far too tired to really form words at this time of the morning. Not that he is entirely sure what time it actually is but he’s not particularly keen on the idea of opening his eyes to find out. 

“It’s time to wake up” Charles hums again, still nice and soft. The Monegasque presses his lips against Max’s neck, kissing gently as he works his way down the Dutchman’s throat until he is licking and kissing along the collarbone. 

Max moans happily at the sensation, there is no greater way to be woken up than having Charles all over him. 

“Are you too tired to get up?” The mattress dips a little as Charles clambers on top of Max’s body and starts grinding his ass down over the Dutchman’s cock. 

“If you haven’t already noticed, part of me is very much up already” Max smirks as he slowly blinks open his eyes. The sight above him is not quite what he was expecting though. Charles is fully dressed. Fully dressed and holding a padel racket in his hand like some sort of padel wielding maniac, “Charles! What the …?”

“It’s padel time, we have to practice” Charles scoots up and off Max’s body leaving the Dutchman groaning in disappointment as he palms over his now hard cock. 

“That is not for hours, surely” Max pouts, he doesn’t know exactly what time it is but it is still clearly morning and nowhere near time for padel. The Dutchman reaches out and tries to pull Charles back down into bed.  

“I’m not losing” Charles wiggles away from Max’s grasp and then proceeds to try and swat him away with his padel racket. 

“We will of course not lose” Max sighs as he shuffles up in bed. He was very much expecting to be woken up with sleepy lazy morning sex not get dragged out of bed to play sport at god knows what time of the morning. 

“No I know we will not lose, because we are going to practice before the game” Charles gives Max an encouraging smile like he is trying to pep him up. 

“Fine I will practice but come back to bed first” Max grabs his cock and gives it a few long slow strokes, “I just need like ten minutes with you” Max gives Charles his neediest look, “Or I could 

probably be done in a few minutes if you don’t need any foreplay” 

Charles snorts in response but doesn’t inch any closer to the bed. 

“Are you really going to make me beg? I will, if you want me to” Max groans, he’s not above begging though, if Charles wants him to get on his knees and literally beg for it he will, it is not like has hasn’t done that in the past. 

“I will make a deal with you” Charles is still gripping his padel racket firmly and doesn’t look like he is returning to bed anytime soon, “You can have me as many times as you want if we win. I will let you do whatever you want to me. Anything. All week. I am all yours. But first we have to win” 

Max frowns, he is still a little too tired to think the offer through. A week of getting exactly what he wants from Charles sounds great but he’s also pretty horny right now, his cock is still rock hard despite having to sit through this long winded negotiation and all he wants to do is fuck up into Charles’ tight little body and make them both come. 

“But if we lose then no sex for a week” Charles adds resolutely. 

“You would not last a week” Max huffs out a laugh, it is an empty threat, surely even Charles would not be that stubborn over padel. 

“Max” Charles changes tactic and coos  the Dutchman’s name softly, it’s a little like the voice Max uses when he is trying to get his cats to do as they are told, “Just come and practice a little and then we can win our match and I am all yours to do with whatever you want.” 

“Fine” Max concedes rather reluctantly, he has no other choice really. Charles looks so eager and defiant and other than clubbing the Monegasque over the head with a racket and dragging him back to bed caveman style Max isn’t sure he is going to win this argument.  

He just really hopes they win. 

A few hours later ….

“I can’t believe you tried to switch teams” Max pouts as he flops down on the hotel suite couch and looks up at Charles.

“You know I love you” Charles soothes, “I love you so much but Max you are so bad at this game. Like so bad. I did not even realise how bad until today.” 

Max’s brow furrows and he crosses his arms as he starts to sulk. Not only did he lose - something he does not really relish even if he is new to the game - but he also had to stand there whilst Charles desperately tried to switch teams. His own boyfriend trying to abandon him. What made it worse was that there were no takers. 

“If it makes you feel any better then I thought you looked hot, even when you did miss that really easy point which would have drawn us level” 

Max’s frown lines deepen, “I would not have played so poorly if we had fucked this morning, I was all tense” 

“I thought it would help to hold off, lots of athletes don’t have sex the night before a big match” Charles offers by way of an explanation. The Monegasque tries not to get too mad because Max really did try. Like really really hard and he looked so cute whenever he stumbled on to the floor or giggled as he missed an easy shot. But even so, Charles really wanted to win so the sight of his boyfriend crumpled on the floor mid point was not as endearing as it should be. 

“But not me” Max whines, “You know I like to fuck before a race” 

“I know” Charles laughs faintly, boy does he know! Porpoising is one thing but porpoising when your boyfriend’s cock has been stretching you wide only a few hours before is quite a different experience all together. 

“And you looked so good, all sweaty and in your shorts” Max can’t help the little waver in his voice, “I couldn’t concentrate”

“It is fine” Charles sighs even though the sight of Max waving his racket around and hitting nothing more than thin air is going to haunt the Monegasque in his sleep, “I have set up another match for next week so we can practice lots beforehand” 

“And the sex ban? That is ….. that was all talk right?” Max looks up hopefully. Charles is still a little rosy faced - mostly from the frustration of losing but even so he looks hot. Riled up even. Max wouldn’t mind being on the receiving end of some hot “fucking out your frustration” sex

“It was not all talk” Charles shakes his head, “No sex until we win a match”: 

“No” Max wails perhaps a bit too high pitched, “Charles that is not fair” 

“Well I have to stick to my word. If we would have won I would have let you do whatever you want to me” 

Max groans in desperation but then decides that he just can not let Charles have all his own way. It’s not like he lost the match for them on purpose. The Dutchman hops up off the couch and rips his top up and over his head before slipping out of the rest of his clothes. He’s got a semi but he has no idea why, maybe Charles making fun of his padel attempts is doing something to him - it’s quite the way to find out he has an undiscovered degradation kink.

“What are you doing? Why are you naked?” Charles sounds a little panicked, like he is slowly losing control of the situation.

“I am hot and sweaty and I think I need to go and have a lie down on the bed ” Max gives Charles his sweetest smile before wandering through to the bedroom without looking back. 

The Dutchman has to wait less than ten minutes for Charles to join him. The Monegasque is already stripping out of his clothes as he comes bounding into the room and on to the bed, “I am going to ride you and you are not allowed to touch me until I say so” 

Max’s breath catches in his chest, this was not quite the reaction he was expecting to provoke but its more than welcome. He tries not to make any sudden movements incase it reminds Charles of how truly uncoordinated he was on court today and the Monegasque changes his mind.

“I have decided the deal should be reversed. If we had won you could use me all week. We lost so I get to use you. It is the only fair way” 

“Sure. Definitely. Sounds fair” Max nods eagerly, his tongue practically hanging out of his mouth, “Do whatever you want with me” 

Charles does exactly that. Hops on to Max’s cock and rides him hard and fast until they are both coming and the Monegasque is collapsing in a sweaty heap down on to Max’s body.  

“No don’t move” Charles mumbles into the crook of the Dutchman’s neck as he feels Max’s hips twitching, “Don’t move, stay there, I am going to go again in a few minutes” 

Max moans, his dick perking up again almost instantly. 

“Remember, you are all mine all week” Charles is mouthing against Max’s neck. His lips nice and soft and mouth warm and wet. 

“All yours. Use me” Max hums contently, It’s hardly a punishment having Charles jumping on his cock at various points during the day. If he knew being bad at padel would end like this he wouldn’t have even bothered trying so hard. 

“Okay” Charles mumbles, “We are going to fuck all night. Fuck all that tension out of you. Fuck every last bit out of you” 

Max’s breath hitches. 

“So then tomorrow when I wake you up at 5am to go practice padel you will be tension free and ready to go. Remember Max, you are all mine all week. We are going to practice so much”  

Max whines and goes to argue but Charles is already clenching around his cock again so he closes his eyes and gives into the fact that his boyfriend is the most insane, competitive person he has ever met. Max knows that without a doubt he is going to spend the week alternating between having the Monegasque bouncing up and down on his cock and being dragged to the courts to take part in Charles Leclerc’s padel bootcamp for dummies. 

[ryebecca]

people i want to get to know better ✨

thanks for the tags @sorchathered and @sugarcoated-lame!

last song: "bells and whistles" - bright eyes

favorite color: purple

currently watching: just finished watching a watergate documentary miniseries and i'm off to find something new! oh, and my soap. but that's a constant.

last movie: i saw my old ass in theaters last week and it made me more emotional than i expected!

current obsessions: trader joe's dill pickle potato chips, lewis pullman's arm vein, david corenswet, glen powell, etc etc etc

relationship status: perpetually single

last thing i googled: "indoor pickleball courts near me"

no pressure tagging: @writercole @hederasgarden @roosterforme @a-reader-and-a-writer @attapullman

@sometimesanalice @bobfloydsbabe @gretagerwigsmuse @clairewritesandrambles @lewmagoo

@laracrofted @statichvm @goddesspharo @hedlunds

[webuniseo]

Uniting Enthusiasts: The Vital Role of a Pickleball Association

Introduction:

Pickleball Association, a sport that seamlessly blends elements of tennis, badminton, and ping pong, has been steadily gaining popularity across all age groups. As this exciting sport continues to capture hearts, the role of a Pickleball Association becomes paramount. In this article, we delve into the significance of a Pickleball Association and explore the ways it fosters community, growth, and competition within the realm of pickleball.

 Building Bridges: The Purpose of a Pickleball Association

A Pickleball Association serves as the cornerstone of unity for players, enthusiasts, and even newcomers to the sport. By bringing together individuals who share a passion for pickleball, associations create a platform for networking, learning, and sharing experiences. From organizing events to promoting the sport's ethos, these associations contribute to the sport's widespread appeal and longevity.

Nurturing Growth: Development Programs and Workshops

One of the core missions of a Pickleball Association is to nurture the growth of the sport. Through structured development programs, workshops, and coaching initiatives, associations ensure that players of all skill levels have access to resources that can enhance their abilities. From introducing beginners to the basics to refining advanced players' techniques, these programs play a pivotal role in raising the overall standard of play.

The Heartbeat of Competition: Tournaments and Leagues

Pickleball enthusiasts often find their competitive spirit ignited through tournaments and leagues organized by associations. These events not only provide a platform for showcasing skills but also foster a sense of camaraderie among players. Whether you're a casual player or a seasoned competitor, participating in these tournaments can be a thrilling experience that solidifies your connection to the sport and the larger pickleball community.

Creating Connections: Social Events and Networking

Beyond the court, Pickleball Associations curate social events that go beyond the game itself. From meet-and-greet sessions to community picnics, these gatherings foster genuine friendships and connections among players who share a common interest. The bonds formed through these events often extend far beyond the sport, enriching lives in unexpected ways.

Supporting Sportsmanship: Ethical Play and Respect

Pickleball Associations play a vital role in upholding the values of sportsmanship and respect within the community. By establishing codes of conduct and promoting ethical play, associations create an environment where fair competition thrives. These principles contribute not only to the integrity of the sport but also to the growth of players as individuals.

Joining the Movement: Embrace Your Local Pickleball Association

As the pickleball craze continues to sweep the nation, there's no better time to connect with your local Pickleball Association. Whether you're a seasoned player or a curious newcomer, these associations offer a gateway to a world of fun, friendship, and active living. By becoming a part of the pickleball community, you're embarking on a journey that transcends the boundaries of the court.

Conclusion:

The Pickleball Association is the heartbeat of the sport, pulsating with the collective energy of players who are passionate about pickleball's unique blend of competition and camaraderie. From facilitating growth and development to fostering ethical play and community spirit, these associations lay the foundation for a sport that unites people from all walks of life. So, whether you're looking to enhance your skills, make new friends, or simply revel in the joy of pickleball, your local Pickleball Association is waiting to welcome you with open arms.

[queenoftheworldisdead]

Legitimate

Chapter 2

A/N: Reader is female. No physical descriptors used. Let me know if i fucked up and not do that. Chat me up i don't bite! Thank you

Summary: Tommy’s thirst for power leads him overseas to the States, where he's after more than just business. What starts as a strategic move soon becomes something far more complex.

Warning: Adult content only! 18+ only please. Dark! There is potentially triggering stories ahead. Dark Slow Burn

Dark Tommy Shelby x Reader

⌂

The neighborhood sits in quiet perfection, manicured lawns bordered by hedges that whisper of some unspoken HOA decree. You sit idle in your car, parked in the driveway of the massive luxury home. It's unnecessarily large for the area, its sharp angles and sleek lines standing in stark contrast to the more subdued, contemporary neighbors. Five bedrooms, four bathrooms, a game room—and even a pickleball court, a new popular accessory for the well-to-do.

Your fingers drum against the steering wheel, the other scrolling absently through your phone. The client is late—no message. Money the only motivating factor for your patience.

You run your tongue over your teeth, brushing away the faint smudge of rouge. Your gaze drifts to the movement behind you—a sleek black car gliding into view. It’s him.

You exhale slowly, giving yourself a final once-over in the tiny mirror. Usually, you don’t show houses outside of your listings. But he had been insistent, and with the commission on the line, you’d jumped through twice as many hoops just to make this happen. You’re not sure why you pushed so hard—maybe it’s the challenge.

With a practiced smile, you step out of the car, leather folder in hand as you go. The steady click of your heels on the driveway fills the quiet as you approach the car, each step measured and steady. The door opens slowly as you near it, smoke spilling from the door as he rises—unruffled. His suit is sharp, too sharp, like a blade in a dark room. Slim, tailored to perfection. He takes a long drag from his cigarette, barely acknowledging the world around him.

“Hello again, Mr. Shelby,” you say, forcing the words to sound natural. “Hope you found it here alright.”

“It’s a lot easier these days with one of these,” he says, his eyes still locking on you, as he waggles his phone before slipping it into his suit pocket.

“Right, well, right this way.” You motion to the house, tamping down the small flush of foolishness creeping up your neck.

He follows close behind as you step onto the stone path toward the door, his footsteps matching your rhythm. His presence feels louder than the silence around you.

“Oh, Mr. Shelby,” you begin, stopping short and spinning on your heels to face him. His brow rises slightly, yet his expression as unreadable as ever.

“Tommy,” he interrupts, his voice smooth, like velvet, but his eyes sharp—piercing.

“Oh, uh, right, well, Mr.—Tommy,” you correct yourself quickly, your words stumbling over the unfamiliarity. “I’m afraid the owners don’t allow smoking on the premises.” Your voice is small, unsure, as his closeness presses on your nerves, and his gaze lingers too long for comfort. “Sorry.”

He lets out a faint scoff, a smirk playing at his lips, before stubbing the cigarette beneath his polished shoe with a casual flick of his wrist.

“So you never said,” you continue as . “Are you looking to bring your family over? This seems a bit big for just yourself.”

“I do have a family back home,” he says, his voice low and calm, but there’s an edge to it. “But whether they’ll be coming here… well, that’s not something you need to worry about.”

“Right, sorry,” The words dry in your mouth, and silence thickens the air between you. You lift the key to the door, fingers brushing over the lock with a deliberate slowness, every motion feeling heavier. You can’t quite read him, and something tells you he’d rather keep it that way.

⌂

You sit on the couch, the cool weight of the wine glass steady in your hand as you absentmindedly flip through the listings. The low hum of cicadas barely reaches your ears, drowned out by the mounting frustration in your chest. The sharp clink of the glass against the table punctuates the silence as you take another sip, your eyes scanning the photos but not really seeing them.

You've heard the stories—difficult clients, high expectations—but Mr. Shelby was becoming the very definition. Every home you've shown him was met with some new criticism. The sting of each comment still lingers in your mind.

Were it not for the proof of funds he'd presented, you might have assumed he was simply playing the long game—wasting your time with no intention closing.

You set your glass down as your phone vibrates, the screen glowing faintly in the dim room. It’s him.

“Hello, Mr. Shelby.”

“Now, I’m sure I’ve told you to call me Tommy, haven’t I?”

You pause, hesitating before answering, feeling the tug between politeness and formality. “My apologies, but it’s late, and I’ve been drinking,” you admit, almost defensively.

He chuckles, low and unhurried. “Anything worth drinking?”

“Top-shelf grocery store brand,” you say with a half-smile he can’t see. The words slip out, the drink loosening a part of you that prefers to stay cautious, professional.

“Well,” he says, almost thoughtfully, “we’ll have to share a glass when we finally close on a house.”

His words hang in the quiet space, and you swallow, feeling the slightest pull of warmth at the thought. You let out a light laugh, barely more than a breath.

“At this rate, Mr.—Tommy—you may have to build one from scratch. I’m running out of listings.”

There’s a pause on his end, and you can almost imagine the way he’s leaning into his own quiet, perhaps smirking at the way you waver on his name. And though he doesn’t respond right away, you feel the weight of something unspoken, the strange pull between a man in search of a home and a woman who can’t tell if he’s looking for more than just four walls.

"Build a place from scratch, then? Only if you’re prepared to be the one I call on for, let’s say, expert guidance."

You almost scoff but catch yourself, letting his words linger in the air a moment longer than they should. You've been down that road before—and weren’t about to do it again.

"I’m sorry, Tommy, but if that’s what you’re after, I’m not the right person for you."

⌂

Quiet fills the room, and days go by without a word from him. Maybe you scared him off, or maybe he found someone more suited to his needs. You don’t worry too much, work is work. New houses come on the market, and potential buyers come and go.

Barefoot, you pad across the hardwood floor, heels in one hand, purse and keys balanced in the other. You love this home—every corner carefully crafted. Selling isn’t in the cards—not now, maybe not ever. Too much history is layered into these walls, even if staying means holding onto something you should’ve let go of long ago.

The art deco kitchen you fought tooth and nail to build greets you quietly as you step through the doorway. Your ex said it was dated, but you didn’t care—this was your dream. The marble tiles, painstakingly laid by your own hands, cool the bottoms of your feet as you head toward the mudroom.

Light floods the garage as you step in, your gaze catching on the boxes piled along the wall, their contents waiting for the day you stop putting them off. A small frown settles as you let the thought drift, slipping into the driver’s seat instead.

The soft purr of the engine fills the space as you buckle in, the garage door rising in a slow, steady arc. Carefully, you back out into the quiet morning.

That’s when you see it—a parcel on your porch, vibrant against the muted colors of the morning. You stop, putting the car in park, and step closer, brow creasing at the sight. The flowers, not your favorite but still beautiful, lay against your door, coupled with a bottle of wine and a card that reads simply, “Better than top-shelf.”

It would almost be romantic, if it weren’t so unnerving. You gather the items, scanning your quiet street, though you already have an idea who sent them. But how he found your address… that’s a detail you didn’t know.

⌂

[babybluebanshee]

so a dead mall near me is being torn down in October and while I’m glad the space will hopefully be used for something better, the little freak part of me is sad to lose such an interesting, cursed space. I love dead malls. I find them fascinating. So I shall recount to you my personal experience inside this particular dead mall, which I shall call C Mall.

so a little context - shae and I were there because I got a v-stock (vintage resale shop that mostly specializes in movies, video games, and other nerd swag; I buy a lot of movies from them) gift card for Christmas one year and that was the closest one to where we’d been shopping that day. I had never been to C Mall, the entire time it was open. I didn’t even know it was still open at the time. We drove out and, kids, you’ve never seen a parking lot that big that deserted. Only about a third of it had any cars in it, and that’s because those were the spots closest to the movie theater and Cheesecake Factory that were somehow chugging along inside. Even then, that third was barely a quarter full. I knew right away I was gonna love this place.

the v-stock was on the populated side of the mall, so if you just stayed in there, you probably wouldn’t have ever known it was in a dead mall. It was fairly bustling, there was even a line at the register. But there were signs all around if you paid attention - water stained ceilings, a musty smell despite the clerks’ best efforts, and, creepiest of all, on the lower level where the movies were, a huge window that offered you a look into the darkened food court. The chairs all put up on tables to clean the floor, but never put down again. Most of the food stands shuttered and bare, but some still wide open with signage. The only light the sunlight pouring in from skylights a story up. I have no doubt, at night, that food court was black as pitch.

so I get my movies (spending waaaaay more than my $25 gift card, but that’s life), when shae and I both realize we have to use the bathroom. The v-stock only has employee bathrooms. The closest open ones are in the Macy’s. Clear on the other end of the building. And our bladders were juuuuust full enough to make the trek, rather than find a gas station nearby or something. Honestly, we probably were just at the point where we didn’t even remember there was a world outside this dying symbol of capitalism. There was only Mall. There had always only been Mall.

so we set off, leaving the brightly lit, populated v-stock for parts unknown. And even though it probably only took us about ten minutes to get to the Macy’s, it felt like years. Most of the stores were shuttered. A few were clearly falling apart - broken ceiling tiles, cracked glass, a light dangling by a single frayed wire. Some had been converted to storage for what did remain. What appeared to have been a store for fancy home decor had become a tangled mess of mannequin limbs. Fortunately, no heads that we could see. Just arms and legs, reaching for a god who’d long since abandoned them.

the only other humans we encountered were some older ladies on the lower level. In a last ditch effort to attract customers, any customers, the mall had turned the southern food court into a pickleball court. These ladies were maybe a few feet from the crypt of a food court on the north side. As shae and I watched them, we wondered if they were as uncomfortable with that knowledge as we were.

the only store we saw before the Macy’s that was open was an arcade/party space. “Open” is actually a pretty generous description tbh. The gate wasn’t down, and the arcade machines were on, but it was completely dark aside from those arcade cabinets, and we didn’t see anyone at the counter or at the games. There was a sign advertising party packages. To me it felt like a honey trap, like someone or something was waiting in the dark for some unsuspecting child to walk in.

finally, we reached the Macy’s. Now, malls are typically considered dead once either their profit margins drop below a certain point or their flagship store (usually a large department store like macys or dillards) closes up shop and nothing replaces it. Macys was still chugging along, but clearly in hospice. They were just waiting for the old girl to die peacefully. Sparse shelves, about two employees for the entire store, so quiet you could hear every word of the music playing over the speakers. It was haunting. And, like all department stores, labyrinthine. Felt like Will Navidson trying to find the bathroom, but we eventually did. Two of the four toilets were out of order and the hand dryer only ran for a second or two before shutting off. It was surreal.

I don’t remember walking back to the car, which remember, was on the other side of the mall by the v-stock. I just remember we eventually stepped out into the sun, and were absolutely slammed with traffic noise and human voices. It was like coming out a dark, soundproof room. It was one of the most cursed experiences of my life.

I found out that C Mall is getting demolished from an article that included pictures of the huge, empty space. I could feel the unease, the wrongness of a place that should be full of people and noise being silent and derelict. It was almost sad that this place was going out with such a whimper. I feel this picture says it all:

We did this to it. And it knows that. And it wants to know why it has to die because of us.

[rallysportsclub]

Book a Pickleball Court at Rally Sports Clubs, in Oshawa CA

Experience the perfect blend of fun & fitness at Rally Sports Clubs! Book Indoor Pickleball Courts & start your Pickleball Club journey today in Oshawa, CA. Dive into the world of Pickleball at Rally Sports! Experience the thrill of this exciting racquet sport that combines elements of tennis, badminton, and table tennis. Join us for fast-paced, engaging gameplay suitable for all skill levels. Unleash the Pickleball passion.

Please note that Pickleball at Rally Sports Club is only available through pre-booking.

[racquet-sports]

Pickleball is a thrilling game that consolidates the components of tennis, badminton, and table tennis. This well known game is not difficult to learn, amusing to play and can be delighted in by all ages. It was designed in 1965 on Bainbridge Island, Washington, by three families searching for an astonishing game to play on their mid year excursion.

Players utilize an oar made of wood or composite to raise a ruckus around town over the net. The court size is 20×44 feet, with a help region 7 feet wide on one or the other side of the middle line. A pickleball net stands 36 inches high in the center and 34 creeps on one or the other side.

Players serve from behind the standard slantingly across the court to begin a game into their rival's administration box. Focuses are scored when your rival neglects to return your shot or returns it beyond the field of play.

What You Really want to Play

Pickleball is a well known sport that joins components of three games: tennis, badminton, and ping pong. You can play it with two, three, or four players.

The game is played on a court looking like a tennis court. It is set apart with various limits for singles or pairs. To play pickleball, you will require a couple of things of gear.