#sucked at football but at least i did one goal

[thoughtfulseason]

it was SUCH a weird day today… or more like evening since i slept through the day

idk if it’s funny or terrible but i went to sleep at 2 am last night (which happens but rarely) and my alarm was at 10 but i was feeling so bad that i slept until now. 2 PM!!! what the fuck. so fucking weird. it’s literally two hours until i have to eat my dinner and go to training what even…

[weakformingyu]

College jock | Y.J.

Pairing: I.N. x afab!reader

Genre: fluff, smut

Words count: 791

THIS AND ALL MY CONTENTS ARE +18, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!!

A/N: okay, why the hell did I stumble upon these pictures and jock Jeongin was the first thing that came to my mind? Like, my boy is looking good asf

College jock Jeongin who's not interested in anything but football, if he could he would stay training on the field all day.

College jock Jeongin who's forced to go to classes just so he won't bomb on all the subjects and get taken out of the team.

College jock Jeongin who sees you in social studies class, totally concentrated in something he doesn't give a fuck about.

College jock Jeongin who, for the first time, is interested in something other than football, that something being you.

College jock Jeongin who doesn't struggle so much to wake up to go to classes anymore, knowing he'll get to see you.

College jock Jeongin who scoffs at his friends when they say you always reject anyone that tries to hit on you, not believing you can resist him.

College jock Jeongin who's shocked when you tell him you're not interested in going out with anyone, much less someone like him.

College jock Jeongin who makes his new goal to actually woo you and his first win is when he manages to get your number from someone in your class.

College jock Jeongin who texts you first thing in the morning, a picture of himself in the mirror asking you if he should wear those clothes.

College jock Jeongin who gets upset that you don't answer him but at least you don't block him.

College jock Jeongin who reminds you to eat and drink water, who texts you good morning, good night and asks how your day is going.

College jock Jeongin who feels too happy about the smile you give him in the mornings when you see him in class.

College jock Jeongin who feels strangely attracted to you — someone who rejected him, every time you're in the same place as him, his eyes following you like a magnet.

College jock Jeongin who asks you out one more time, expecting a no again but being surprised by a positive answer.

College jock Jeongin who takes you to dinner in a nice restaurant, makes jokes just to hear your sweet laugh and feels so much more enchanted by you as he walks you to your door.

College jock Jeongin who leans closer to kiss you on the cheek but receives a peck on the lips followed by you hiding your face behind your hands while you give him goodnight.

College jock Jeongin who feels his heart beating like a hammer in his chest, even though it was just a peck on the lips, just like that he knows he's whipped.

College jock Jeongin who asks you to be his girlfriend one week after going out with you for the first time, not able to hold back anymore and confessing to you.

College jock Jeongin who proudly walks down the college halls, holding your hand and showing everyone he managed to get the girl.

College jock Jeongin who's so nervous the first time he meets your parents, shakily giving your father a handshake and flowers to your mother.

College jock Jeongin who enchants your family the same way you did to him, making them love him and seizing the opportunity to ask for a picture of you when your family is showing him your childhood photo albums.

College jock Jeongin who convinces your parents to let you two sleep in the same room, smiling brightly at them with his innocent face and making them believe he wouldn't do anything disrespectful in your childhood room.

College jock Jeongin who makes you dry hump on him, feeling your warmth hugging his covered cock while he covers your mouth telling you to keep quiet so your family won't hear you.

College jock Jeongin who doesn't like when other men approach you, coming around and sliding his arm possessively around you.

College jock Jeongin who makes you suck him off in the locker room, at the risk of anyone coming in, just because he needs you to reassure him that he's the only one you want.

College jock Jeongin who took his time before you two had your first time, making it romantic so you'll never forget about that night. He has to hold himself back as he fucks you nice and slowly, listening to your muffled moans like it's music to his ears.

College jock Jeongin who eats you out after he came inside you, tasting himself and drunkenly enjoying the juices that come out of your cunt, even though you're telling him you can't take it anymore.

College jock Jeongin who calls you in the middle of the class just so he can fuck you behind the bleachers while his team is training and suddenly football is not as important to him anymore now that he has you.

[slow-slug]

(not) lonesome practicalism

AN: Okay first of all, the person who forced me into making tumblr account, please do not look at this post lmao I want to save my dignity, let's pretend it's not here. Second of all it's all @angelchigiri fault that I've written it, and thirdly it was not suppose to be that long but my hand slipped. And at the end I want to mention, english is not my first language and I do not have a beta, so yk, probably a lot of mistakes, sorry :,) Enjoy!

Its all fluff I promise! Oh and it's Chigiri x Reader ofc!

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

You pouted as the ball you just had kicked rolled not into the direction you wanted it to go. You had to admit it was a very pitiful picture, the net of the goal waved slightly with barely noticeable breeze, and the ball was, well, not in the middle of it as you wanted it to be. 

It was really frustrating, you were on the field that belonged to your old school, for quite some time now. Long enough that the sun started to set, and the hot summer temperature was slowly but surely becoming a chilly one. 

You felt like a fool, despite the fact that because of summer vacations no one was nearby, you still were feeling rather embarrassed. How was kicking a ball into the right direction so hard? It just never went the way you wanted it to go, honestly it was so silly, all you wanted to do was learn some basic football movements. That’s all! Was it so bad wanting to be more invested in your boyfriend's activities and passions?

You flopped down on the hard ground, feeling the artificial texture of it beneath your fingers. 

Sighhhh.

Honestly, Chigiri was so amazing in every way. He was caring, a gentleman in always asking about your mood, and making sure you were comfortable in everything you two were doing. Since you started dating, two months ago, suddenly your world felt a lot brighter and colorful. You spent so much time together, and when not, you were texting and sending stupid photos to each other. A true honeymoon phase in all its glory.

But the most important thing to you that he was doing was the way he was so invested in your hobbies and interests. You never had someone so, so genuinely interested in your passions. It was such an amazing feeling, when he sent you links to silly videos that he knew you would be interested in, and what's most important was the fact that he was never scared to spend time with you doing those activities. No matter what it was. Baking? He would research the best recipe that there exists. Dancing? Bring it on, with his coordination skills it was a lot of fun twirling together. Drawing? He wasn’t really good at it, but you still had the portret he drew of you, hanging up proudly above your desk. Hell, he even went shopping with you for new makeup products you needed and later, when you got back to your house, he did face masks with you and cuddled while watching some cheesy kdrama. 

And you wanted to return the favor, so, a whole week you spent walking to the field and practicing the damned football. It was your favorite thing, watching him being all excited about matches and scores. He smiled so widely and his eyes sparkled with such a real passion. And you wanted to be part of this world as well. 

You understood the rules of the game, knew the professional and more inside terms used for different moves, you were there for Chigir’s practice when you only could, you were watching matches with him and engaged in long discussions about them. 

The only thing is that, well, you kindly speaking, sucked at playing the actuall game. 

And it was so embarrassing! 

You heard your boyfriend's wishes that you could play some nice and short matches. He had never said it outloud, but you could read between the lines well enough that you understood his shy smiles and quick looks on the field when you were passing by it. So you did the only reasonable thing. Decided to learn this sport, at least a little bit, so you could surprise Chigiri and see his beautiful smile when you would show him the skills you had. 

You observed the slowly moving clouds. Well, you must admit that the practice you had, everyday for the whole week, was really effortless. Sadly. The ball never went in the direction you wanted it to go, you couldn’t run with it without losing it or falling on your face. You didn’t even attempt dribbling. 

You covered your eyes with your arm sighing quietly, and felt the frustrated tears to prickle them. This isn’t fair, you’ve seen so many matches, and Chigiri’s practices, so why couldn’t you repeat any of the things he did? 

The moment you decided to stand up and try again you felt someone laying down next to you also sighing quietly. Your tensed muscles relaxed as you felt your boyfriend’s comforting smell enveloping you. Dammit, you didn’t even hear him creeping on you.

You laid in silence for some time, breathing quietly. Then you felt his pinky touching delicately yours, and you smiled softly against your will. 

“Are you gonna tell me what you've been up to this past week?” He asked quietly not breaking the tiny physical contact he had with you. 

“It’s stupid” you’ve murmured. 

“It’s not if you spent so much time on it” he responded gently. 

That made you uncover your face and shift it so you could take a better look at him. Pink hair spilled around him, and tickled his perfectly looking skin. His pink eyes blinked at you, patiently waiting for your answer. 

“Promise you won’t laugh?” You’ve asked uncertainly, it was so stupid now that you looked at it. He nodded softly, enveloping your hand fully and giving it an encouraging squeeze. “I just wanted to learn some basic football I guess…” you turned your eyes to your hands observing the color of your skin. You heard a quiet oh, and your face flamed red. 

You’ve quickly sat up, and buried your head in your knees. That’s it for you, never coming back nope. And Chigiri was still silent! He did sit up with you, not so abruptly as you of course. He was always so smooth and elegant in every move. 

“You did?” He sounded weirdly breathless. You nodded without looking at him. You sat there in silence for a while. You wanted to go away, to stand and ask Chigiri to forget it, to never mention it again, so you can just skip this embarrassing chapter of your life. Yet, before you could act on those thoughts, you felt arms wrapping around you from behind and his hair tickle your nape when he leaned on it with his forehead. 

“Gods I love you so much.” He whispered in a hushed tone. You felt the warmth on your cheeks and the butterflies in your stomach. Chigiri never really says it outloud, his love is more hidden in gentle kisses and in the time you two spend together. You muffled a groan, his random declarations of love will always mean so much to you.

He stood up, and turned to be in front of you. When you looked up, the last sun rays made up a halo around his hair and the smile that graced his lips was so fond and kind. He put out a hand in your direction. 

“Come I’ll teach you.” And in what world would you say no to him? 

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

i feel cringe

[cazluvsu]

hello. celtics-bengals anon here.

that one... hurt. probably the most, because i had hope after that fumble. if there hadn't been the fumble actually, it might've been better. but our horrible awful defense did it! and i understand running it, to not risk another interception and all -but to lose on a missed field goal!

it wasn't even evan's fault. just... damn, football sucks. i'll still watch next week, but at this rate, even a win against the giants isn't guaranteed. frustrating because they ARE better than 1-4 and if they were a little bit luckier, they would be 2-3 or even better, but. 1-4 is where they stand. depressing.

at least the celtics blew out the nuggets, even if it's still the preseason. yay.

hello . again 😞😞 much yapping under the cut

yeah that was so fucking devastating lmfao. not a great day for me personally (bills lost in Also devastating fashion!!)

i’ll just explain my entire day Teehee sorry for using ur asks to rant every week atp but i enjoy them keep asking 🤗🤗 when the bengals win A game we can celebrate together 🤞

i go to work. work sucks! sometimes if it’s slow i can watch red zone or something else but nope! i end up staying later than i was supposed to and by the time i get to drive home i am Devastated bc 1 im tired lol and 2 i didn’t get to watch Any of the bills game!!! and i wanted to watch it so bad!!!!! and there was no way for me to go back and watch it bc i don’t live in buffalo or Houston so i don’t get the game in my area. So starting off strong. but. !! i get home and i realize the bills game actually was broadcast to me!! and it all recorded!!!! i could watch the entire game lfg!!!!!!!! so i do!!! i didn’tlook at my phone at all to get spoilers, it looks rough at the beginning but the bills come back and tie it with some luck!!! and then they fucking lose!!!!!! so i am already sad. i go on twitter as the start of the bengals ot starts playing bc that’s just. what records after the game is over i guess. i’m like Oh let’s see if the other team i am emotionally invested in can win and make me less sad!! and it looks like all is well with that fumble!! and they drive into evan’s fg range and the commentators are saying all these stats about how he’s perfect from 50+ this season, he has 14 straight made fgs in the 4th/ot, life seems great!!!!!! and then he misses 😀😀😀😀😀😀 watching the replay of the holder drop the ball literally killed me and then that run by henry immediately after (ptsd from the bills game last week lmfao) was just great ☺️☺️ so. Yeah it’s all devastating and football sucks i am never watching a game again (lie)

i completely agree it’s so much more frustrating when u Know they are much better than their record. they were right there in every game they’ve lost!!!! if their offense looked how it did in every other game Besides that first pats game, that’s a W. the ja’marr penalty in the chiefs game (horrible. i hate it. i hate thinking about it. Anyways! ). the commanders game. Literally did not punt!!! but the defense!!!!!! their offense is great like everyone predicted and it’s So frustrating when they can’t do anything but watch as the defense gives up points in crucial moments. Ugh.

and yeah it is still early (ish) in the season but when they’ve had the same issues in every game it makes it hard to believe they’ll really get that much better to propel them to the playoffs or like. A winning record. but what can u do 😕😕

the celtics will always be the light through the darkness 🙂‍↕️ (i forgot they played today) hope ur doing well tho anon 🫂🫂

[coachrivero]

Tulane season recap/ bye week

Oooh we are (almost) halfway there

Here we are… Man time sure does fly since those agonizing summer months counting down T minus how many weekends until we get football back. It’s nice to once again be in the thick of things. I know this is where everyone expected us to be but still I remember the days when Tulane would normally be eliminated from contending for anything at this point. I’m glad things are different now. May Tulane be relevant forever. From this day until the end of days.

When the season started it looked like the Wave didn’t miss a beat from last year’s Cotton Bowl team. South Alabama is no USC (and has definitely lost some luster recently) but they are solid enough that many were picking them to win the Sun Belt, and some people including Scott Van Pelt picked to beat us. That obviously didn’t happen as Tulane brought the fireworks in a 20 point rout that really wasn’t that close. Michael Pratt was sensational, shredding USA’s secondary completing 14-15 passes for 294 yards and 4 touchdowns, with the only blemish a dropped pass that should have been another touchdown. Tulane’s defense was incredible as well stifling one of the better offenses in the FBS allowing only 17 points and forcing 5 turnovers. We were firing on all cylinders… but sometimes in life adversity will happen. Late in the 4th quarter while Tulane was in the process of salting the game away, Pratt suffered a left knee injury. This big win came at a steep price of losing the services of our superstar QB (also lost emerging star LB Corey Platt to an Achilles injury earlier in the game). A lot of speculation can go into the why was Michael Pratt in there and the what ifs, the play-calling, and so forth. I won’t really get into that. It just sucks to have lost Pratt right before the biggest home game in 40 years and the toughest game on the schedule where we couldn’t afford to lose him.

It turns out Tulane really is a damn good football team. We lost Tyjae Spears and a lot from last year, plus we haven’t been playing as well as we could have, but we do have a solid nucleus of talented players and great coaches. The Ole Miss game was a loss. I’m not going to spin it into a moral victory, but I was encouraged with how we competed with them. We have the horses to play with one of the better teams in the SEC even without our senior NFL prospect Quarterback. It was unfortunate to squander that opportunity to get a statement win but it wasn’t the most disappointing thing I’ve ever seen as a Tulane fan. I was just eager to kick the shit out of Southern Miss and get the bell back, and so was Tulane. Not much to be said except we scored 3 Touchdowns and USM kicked one field goal. Nice relaxing game for Southern Miss’s band the Pride of Mississippi. They didn’t have to play the fight song except for a couple of times when the team ran out on the field and the Alma mater at the end. Do kind of feel bad for Will Hall though, he’s a good dude. He recruited Pratt and was a big part of changing the culture here and helping Tulane turn things around. I think he’s trying but the USM job is a lot tougher nowadays than people realize. Good news is they can’t afford to fire him so he’s at least got another season.

FCS Nicholls State was kind of blah. It wasn’t the best performance but we did win and got to ease Michael Pratt back into things. Kai Horton did OK filling in for Pratt IMO, but the drop off there is significant. I would have liked to see more development with Cobra Kai being in this system for 3 years but he’s been serviceable and I am thankful for his victories over Houston last year and of course the mustard buzzards this year. Game ball definitely goes to the defense for carrying us. Few college football teams have a better 1-2 combination of cover corners than Jairius Monroe and Lance Robinson. There are so many good players in this defense I could go on forever naming them all. I check under my bed at night for Patrick Jenkins because he is a monster. Devean Deal is also a force. Jesus Machado is Dorian Williams 2.0 a tackling machine. I hope Grubbs is healthy going forward. Despanie is so good and Jared Small has been a pleasant surprise in the LB group. If I missed anyone it’s because again there’s an abundance of talent in this unit. Defensively Tulane is a problem.

UAB at first glance was disappointing being in a dogfight with a 1-3 football team, but I like the resolve of this group. After falling into a 20-7 hole, Tulane outscored the upset-minded visitors 28-3 to go 1-0 in the American Conference. The first half reminded me a lot of my younger days as a Tulane football fan. Losing at home to a CUSA team… terrible officiating… my dad yelling at opposing fans. The only thing that was missing was being in a 65 degree climate-controlled indoor stadium with 1,000 people in attendance. Turns out this is not 2010, we were not in the Dome, and Tulane did not fold in the football game. I do give UAB credit they had the perfect game plan, they utilized quick passes and had some success moving the ball. However, Tulane put the clamps on in the second half, with Makhi Hughes further separating himself as RB1. I like that Duda Barnes still returned to the football game even after a costly fumble. It shows the staff has faith in him choosing not to cast him down into the Iverson Celestine fumblitis gallows. Michael Pratt threw an absolute dime to Lawrence Keys on 4th and 9 for a 32 yard touchdown to put the game on ice with 47 seconds. That was *chefs kiss* very nice. It was cool to see the reappearance of Alex Bauman who hadn’t really been featured since the ending of the Cotton Bowl. I need to also give Jaquan Jackson and Chris Brazzell the credit they deserve for being so dependable in the passing game. Adding speed threat Yulkeith Brown to the mix as well should help open up the offense too.

In conclusion, we are right where we need to be. We beat the teams we were favored against and dropped the one game that ultimately doesn’t hurt us that much (except for dropping like 30 spots out of the top 25). LSU can basically give up 1,000 yards of offense to Old Piss and still be ranked but what the fuck ever. Anyhow, I think Tulane might have lost a bit of its edge from last year. Part of this is natural regression that was honestly to be expected after the best season in school history (or second best depending on your personal preference), and Pratt not being 100% healthy. It’s also very possible that the best is yet to come. Make no mistake though it is still AAC Championship and New Year’s 6 or bust.  The recipe is still there: Explosive offense, salty defense, and very solid dependable special teams. Truthfully, the special teams are the unsung heroes of Tulane. We are one of the most efficient College football programs in terms of special teams and it shows up on Saturdays. We don’t talk about them enough, but they will be critical for our chances to win at Memphis. That… and not fumbling the ball.

Anyhow, thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed. I think the bye week came at the perfect time. Get everyone healthy with all team goals still very much attainable. I’m ready to kick back and enjoy my stress free football weekend!

Roll Wave! 🌊

[coffee-at-annies]

Am gonna go both broad and also narrow cause wins really depend. It depends on what I want out of the sport, and what my expectations are vs what I’m actually getting. It also depends on overarching season narrative and whether am I watching an actual game.

With Pirates baseball I want to check in occasionally to see how they’re doing and my expectations are so low that the knowledge that we won is a pleasant surprise and the knowledge that we gave up 5 runs in an inning is met with lmao what else did I expect from this team. The bar is so low I’m excited when the clear it and when they inevitably limbo under it I’m just like lol, lmao. I do not follow baseball closely however so I don’t really get any narrative beyond what my sister shares with me from baseball twitter. Thus winning is a pleasant surprise but nothing I’m expecting and losing doesn’t ruin my mood. I also don’t watch games. I’ll tune in for an inning and tune out after that. The only time that really matters is the ninth inning and yeah if we get close and lose that sucks but again, what did I expect from this shitsburgh team.

With Steelers football I went into the last season knowing we had a baby QB and that we were at the start/middle of a rebuild and that playoffs were a pipe dream so I set my loftiest goals at Pickett starts at least one game and the team ends at .5 record. They did that for me. We got close to an even w/l record and Pickett started the back half of the season. I’m still getting used to watching football games and managing my expectations. I got into football via fantasy football and boy am I bad at it. I’ve been bottom of the bottom of my league 2 years in a row. It’s hard. I don’t like it. At certain points last fall it made me dread Sundays because I do not like the it. The thing is I’ve got a good group of people I like making memes and memories with so like idk the experience is worth it even if its been the source of the bad brain chemicals many a time. Quite literally in that league winning is the friends I made along the way because I am not doing any winning.

Pens I expect them to win. That’s the main thing. They are a good team and I expect them to win more than they lose. They aren’t going to win forever. There’s a reason it’s called hubris dot gif after all. Still I expect them to be able to win games. I expect them to make it to the playoffs. We could be one game from being mathematically eliminated from the playoffs (entering partytime for all my fellow blaseball fans) and I would still be like no we’re gonna make it. This season has tested that faith a lot. Losses hurt, because they go against what I know to be the core makeup of my team. You can say that I’m spoiled in that respect, but again it’s expectations vs what we’re actually getting and the reconciling of those two.

Watching games is fun. Watching games can eat up and afternoon and evening. Spending all that time only to see your team come close and fall short can be intensely disappointing. I enter most hockey games with “I think my team can win this” and so a loss is disappointing.Sometimes it’s meh or numbness sometimes it’s enough to get me spiraling most of the time though it’s the absence of the good brain chemical when I need a pick me up. I have different expectations with other sports so it’s a different experience watching game.

Wins feel good. I get the good serotonin from them. If I’m not gonna get the good serotonin is this worth my time? I turned off the rangers game on Sunday to instead watch John Wick 1 and had a much more pleasant evening than if I had sat there being frustrated and mad at the pens performance. I can follow a loosing team but watching losing games is something that is unfun and can actively be harmful for my mood. I promised myself in my teens when I quit glee that I wouldn’t hate watch things anymore — I can watch things that are low quality or where my purpose is making fun of it but if the only emotion I get from content is hatred or rage then I need to take a step back and quit. There have been pens games where all I felt in my heart was rage and I just wanted to quit. The worst of these was the oilers game I was physically present at where losing felt like adding insult to injury because I couldn’t just turn off the game and move on with my life. There are good things in a losing effort. Sometimes you gotta take the small wins of a milestone reached or it’s not a shutout. Some losses hurt less than others. Losing in general however doesn’t feel good.

I don’t need to win always and I don’t expect to always win. I want the Stanley Cup every year but I don’t expect to get it. My issues with the pens this year has mostly been my expectations for the team vs the reality that I’m getting.

I have a question for Sports Fans.

What does winning mean to you?

Because I cheer for majority underdog teams and I don't think winning to me means the same thing it does to others. So please if you have been rooting for a team that has been a winning team or at least good for longer than they haven't (Think NFL Patriots, NHL Penguins, NBA Golden State Warriors) what does a singular win mean. Not a Championship, or Playoff game just a normal regulation win in the regular season

[errythinisblue]

American Chelsea fan here! Could I request a mason imagine please! one where he’s dating a uswnt player and they’re long distance? 🥺

Hi lovely! I loved this request so much I had to write it all in one go! 😍 I hope you like it! ❤️

Football vs Soccer

Mason Mount x Y/N

Summary: Long distance relationships suck, you and Mason know something about it… but what if something is about to change??

Warnings: sexual innuendos.

gif credits to @masnmount

Long distance relationships sucked, you’ve always thought that, at least until you met Mason.

You met him in LA last summer, while he was on tour with his club, Chelsea FC, the Blues. You still didn’t know if by chance, luck or whatever it was, the United States Women National Team was invited to attend one of the matches, and with you being in it you got to meet the players, and Mason of course.

Surely you knew you were there because you were an international footballer as well, but since the moment you met that handsome brown-eyed boy, you couldn’t help but think that there was some kind of force that was pulling the two of you together, and you couldn’t explain it to yourself but you felt as if you were supposed to be there, as if you were supposed to meet him.

The two of you were about to be interviewed when you first saw Chelsea’s number 19; during the match you noticed he wore the same number you did; this coincidence and the fact that you both were so young and talented convinced the journalists to do a double interview, as in their opinion it would have been a nice confrontation between the two of you.

You both were extremely embarrassed since you didn’t really know each other if not because of your careers; the fact that you were standing there, so close that your shoulders were almost touching, made it impossible for you not to notice how good Mason looked.

Little did you know that Mason’s thoughts were mirroring your own: he was just as astonished by you as you were by him, and just as embarrassed as you were, if not more. But even if he was extremely nervous to be there by your side while you were waiting for the questions to start, he found the courage to bump his shoulder against your own, smiling at you afterwards.

“You okay?” he asked, the sweet smile never leaving his beautiful lips.

“Yeah, just a little nervous I guess… it’s like I never got used to these interviews.” you smiled back, lowering your gaze for a minute before you looked back at the boy standing by your side, “Congratulations for the win though, and for your goal too, it was pretty amazing…”

“Yeah tell me about it,” he breathed a laugh, agreeing with what you were saying, “I know I’m just supposed to be talking about football, but it’s kind of exhausting sometimes… thank you by the way, it means a lot.” he nodded his head at you, while he was taking in your whole appearance.

“You’re welcome…” you said, “I can’t help but ask though, when you say football, or whatever that word was, you mean soccer right?” you asked him, a playful yet defying tone in your voice.

“Oh here we go…” he laughed, throwing his head back, and giving you a nice view of his broad neck, “No darling, I meant football, what even is soccer??”

Darling, that word rolled off his tongue in a delicious way; in a way that made your heart beat faster as a lot of thoughts ran through your mind.

“Soccer is what you play, Sir Mount.” you winked at him, bumping his shoulder back with your own, as you were already loving the tension that was slowly growing between the two of you, “No football, we play soccer here in the US.”

“Sir Mount??” he narrowed his eyes at you, closing the space between your bodies just that tiny little bit that was letting him whisper in your ear, “Careful with your words, darling.”

“Or else??” you turned your face towards him, noticing how close you two actually were.

“Oh nothing… I just wouldn’t want to disappoint you when I’ll show you that football is better than that ‘soccer’ thing…”

“I’d like to see you try…” you smirked in his face, both of your competitive sides were making an appearance, as you were standing face to face now, “But we both know I’m right.”

“Why don’t we-” he tried to say before the journalist came to stand in front of you, ready to start with the endless questions you both were dreading so much and interrupting your own “match”.

Every time you found yourself missing Mason, you thought back to that day. The day you first met.

You thought about the way you were both so stubborn, yet so determined to see what that strange feeling, that tension between the two of you was about.

You thought about the whole evening after the match, when you two spent the night talking, laughing, making fun of each other’s accent and fighting because you both were stating you were the best football, or soccer, player.

You thought about the way your determination brought your lips together, as you and Mason stood right in front of the front door of your house in LA. That night he insisted on walking you home, since he discovered his hotel was close by, letting you see his sweet, caring side, you were so fond of.

Those same memories were playing in your head as you were waiting for his phone call, like you would always do each day at lunch time. With you living in Los Angeles, the 8 hours difference, and your busy schedules, this was the only time of the day you could share a proper time speaking to him on the phone.

You used to refer to these phone calls as your “dates”. Everynight, once Mason was home from training he would call you, then you’d both prepare something to eat and enjoy your food right in front of your phone; you’d have your lunch and he’d have his dinner, while you sat in your houses, far away from each other, talking through a video call.

You couldn’t help but sigh, the long distance was taking a toll on you already, as it was on Mason; you could only hope the news you were about to give him could cheer you both up a little.

Just as you lowered your gaze to your phone screen, it lighted up, Mason’s goofy smile appeared on the screen as a big one curved your lips.

“Hey you…” you softly smiled as you took in Mason’s disheveled hair and his soft brown eyes.

“Hi gorgeous, missed me??” he winked at you as the right corner of his lips curled up.

“You know I do,” you softly smiled as you shook your head, “how was training??”

“Long…” he sighed as he scratched his forehead in thought, you knew the situation at the club was weighing on him and you wished you could do more for him, “All I could think about was you…”

“I thought about you too…” you told him, “I have some big news by the way!”

“Really?? What is it??” his ears perked up upon hearing your words.

“The new kits have arrived! I’m gonna show you once we’re finished eating!” you grinned at him right before you started eating your meal.

“Oh really??” he smiled, toying with his food, “I bet it doesn’t look as good as ours!”

“That’s because you didn’t see me wearing it yet!” you winked at him, noticing a strange slumping posture in his shoulders.

“Are you gonna wear it for me darling??” his low voice sent shivers down your spine, the pet name he gave you the first time you met quickly became one of your favourites. So much that he’d always call you that.

“Of course, I’m gonna put on a show for you babe!” you told him, but something wasn’t sitting right with you. He looked strangely sad, like he wasn’t even paying attention to what you were saying. Like he was elsewhere.

“I can’t wait to see that show in person…” he sighed, “I miss you so much…” he half whined, making you pout at him.

“Aw Mase… I miss you too…” you cooed, trying to soothe him as best as you could, “I promise we’re gonna see each other soon… I’m gonna come to you as soon as I can…”

“Yeah I know, it’s just… we’re both so busy…” he said as he scratched his beard, “How can you possibly come here now that the season began?”

“Don’t worry I- I’ll find a way!” you were quick to answer him, almost letting your little surprise slip past your lips.

“I’m sure you will… stubborn, Californian ‘gurl’…” he giggled as if his mood had suddenly got better upon hearing you say that.

“Hey don’t! I’m not gonna come if you keep making fun of me!”

“We both know you’re gonna come, in more ways than one…” he growled as he winked at you.

“Mason!!!” you groaned, “Is this what it is about?? Long faces and whines because you’re horny really??” it was your turn now to giggle at your boy’s antics.

“So what?? It’s been weeks since we saw each other! Of course I am!” he whined once again, “My hand can only help so far you know…”

“Want me to put up a real show for you?…” your teasing tone went straight to Mason’s crotch, as he bit his lower lip.

“Of course I do…” he rasped, watching as you slowly started to remove your clothes.

“Say please and I’ll think about it…” you were trying to cheer him up a little, not to let him think too much about the distance that was separating the two of you, even if it wasn’t that easy to do.

“Please…” his voice was barely audible, just about a whisper. His eyes turned suddenly sad, his lips curved down in a pout, his lower lip sticking out.

It was then that the reality hit the both of you, Mason wasn’t horny, he was missing you, bad.

“Mase what’s wrong?” you stopped your ministrations and took your phone from your nightstand, where you’d left it right before starting your show, “Talk to me…”

“It’s nothing…” he shook his head, trying to cover the sad look on his face, “Show me that kit now… I want to see you…”

“I’m not gonna show you anything if you don’t tell me what’s wrong…”

“It’s just- It’s just that you’re not here…” he said, plain and simple, he said it, and those words tore directly at your heartstrings, “I want to see you try that kit on right before my eyes, not through a phone screen! Damn I want to touch you, your skin, when you get naked in front of me… I want you close, and I know you want that too, I don’t want to put too much pressure on you but-” he was starting to ramble and as if you wanted to put an end to his sadness, you cut him off.

“I’m joining Chelsea at the end of the month!” here, you said it. What was supposed to be a final surprise for Mason, was a way to calm his nerves down at the end.

“I mean I- Wait what??” he was taken aback by your sudden revelation, “What did you just say??”

“I’m joining Chelsea Mason…”

“You’re not joking?? You’re coming here for real??” he half screamed with his high pitched voice.

“Of course I am!” you giggled as you looked at his wide eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me you meanie??” he pouted once again, but he couldn’t for too long since he was too happy with the news you gave him.

“Because it was nothing official yet! I couldn’t!” you shrugged your shoulders before you bit the inside of your cheek, “And because I wanted to surprise you…”

“Well you did surprise me darling,” he admitted, “but next time don’t make me suffer this much for it!”

“I’m sorry baby…”

“Wait when did your contract end?? Tell me everything about it, now!” he was back to being the usual over-excited boy he always was, once again.

“It ended at the beginning of August, and Chelsea’s offer came pretty fast… but I couldn’t talk about it, not until it was done at least…”

“When did you sign for us??”

“Last night,” you smiled, “I couldn’t wait to tell you, you’ve been on my mind ever since!”

“I’m so happy to hear that,” he smiled so big you were sure his cheeks were hurting, “I can’t wait to have you here with me all day every day!”

“Are you sure you can keep up with the competition??” you smirked, “I mean, Chelsea’s gonna have two number 19 after all… and we both know who’s the best.”

“Well that’s technically true,” he pondered for a second, “but one of us plays football, and the other plays soccer… there’s quite a difference here!”

“Oh shut up you dork!” you said as you rolled your eyes at him, “Do I need to remind you that you lost to me badly??”

“I didn’t lose, I just let you win!” his whiny voice was back, as he felt like he explained himself a thousand times.

“Yeah yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night Mount!”

“I’m the best at playing football, therefore I’m the best number 19.” Mason said, putting a satisfied smirk on his face.

“No way!” you denied, “I’m the best at playing soccer, so I’m clearly the best number 19!”

Mason didn’t reply, he just laughed out loud before he set his eyes back on your face; the soft look on his facial features made you go quiet for a minute, as you were unable to find the words to speak.

“Is it always going to be like this??” Mason’s relaxed voice broke the silence this time.

“Of course! At least until you give in to me and realize I am the best one here!”

“I can’t wait for you to be here, to prove you wrong every single day…” the dreamy expression on his face made you laugh out loud, your hands covering your face as you were struggling to breathe from how hard you were laughing.

“Keep dreaming!” you winked at him, while Mason chuckled at you.

“Seriously though… I can’t wait to have you in my arms every day…”

“Are you admitting defeat??” you grinned widely at him, watching as he was relaxing on his black sofa.

“Are you serious?? I’m here, admitting my feelings for you and you keep insisting you’re the best at football?? You’re delusional!” it was his turn to roll his eyes now, but he couldn’t help but smile all the same.

“I’m the best at soccer!”

“Football!”

“Soccer!”

“Football!”

…

The “match” continued, but the best was yet to come.

[deviltoys]

— ‘𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗽𝘂𝗽𝗽𝘆!’

itadori yuuji x top!male reader. (wc; 1.3k)

#a/n: JESUS, AFTER MY DRAFT POSTING AT LEAST FIVE TIMES— IT'S DONE!

warnings. NSFW CONTENT, MINORS DNI, football au, ftm itadori, exhibitionism, choking, spanking, rough sex, dirty sex, barebacking, no prep, dacryphilia, sir k., pet name (puppy), belly bulge, implied oral.

dim lights, the roar of people in the stands, the booming voice of the announcer amongst the crowd, cheerleading sqaud egging on their side in hopes of them outplaying the opposing team, and sweaty guys all lined up for a chance to win it; it was like every other friday night game. all the essentials were there.

your eyes locked with itadori’s light chestnut ones glistening with heart and motivation, he traced the opening in your movements; preparing for the golden opportunity to throw you the match winning pass. with your arms perched out in front of you he played his cards and took the risk, planting the ball right between your palms— calculated and clean you sunk the ball in-between your forearm and chest.

you had caught the toss, nothing less from the team's starting quarterback and receiver. together, you were a gnarly duo, the ultimate combination of talent.

carrying your team to victory was common practice for the two of you, there wasn't a single game that had happened throughout your third year career where you two hadn't been the mvp’s. just another notch onto the school's metaphorical belt, being a powerhouse school you had a reputation to uphold. you all had gone undefeated for years, another win was what you were known for— which also meant another reward for your puppy’s outstanding preformance on the field.

it was routine, a few months prior itadori was overwhelmingly titillated after a long and straining practice. he had outshined his fellow peers and you couldn't help but feel the need to help him relive some stress after a hard day; you'd be lying if you said you weren't a bit pent up yourself. so from then on, every match you two would win and every practice he demolished, you'd drill his brains out as soon as you two found a little privacy.

this time was different though, you were horny, he was horny— he wouldn't stop rubbing up on you as you exited the field and that was your breaking point.

at the rate in which he was clawing to remove your jersey, you were sure he'd rip the fabric right in two; he was so needy. you're dizzyingly hot as you draw an arm around his waist, letting your fingers slide between the waistband and the hem of his boxers.

“yuuji, this is your last chance. you sure you wanna do this now? because i won't be showing you any mercy puppy. practice will be a pain when you can barely walk.” you growl and bite at the nape of his neck, the gravel in your tone twisting with your hot breath only made you even more irresistible. how could he say no?

“mhm, i can handle it sir! i’ll take all the cum you give my greedy pussy!” his confirmation was only useless banter, you already had his pants pressed down to his kneepads. his milky skin was so plush, his puffy ass was messily rubbing right into your palms; just asking to be spanked into oblivion.

itadori whimpered with the sensation your warm hands brought upon his sweaty ass— the moisture from running around made the dewy flesh erupt harshly against your palm. it was far louder than expected, you wouldn't be surprised if the suspicious noise turned a few heads your direction. but you didn't care, they could watch you break your boyfriend all they pleased, you were only there to reward him.

sloppily, you drag your half exposed boyfriend deeper under cover of the bleachers. you two were sheltered by the metal seating— rows of attendees still roaming around the area, just threatening to unveil the naughty act.

you're reaching over and rubbing the front of his cunt, hastily trying to stimulate his swollen clit while itadori attempts to push the length of your cock inside of his desperate heat. your rough, broad hands spread him wide, suddenly aware of how absolutely filthy he looks. the grueling approach of your palms flushing his creamy white complexion a profound sheen of red didn't do his drooling pussy any favours— but the way you bait the head of your leaking cock over his slit makes him shudder and his brain fizzle into mush.

his cheeks were completely battered, the sting of humiliation overthrew any pain he may have been experiencing. if not, the deliciously overwhelming stretch of your cock around his velvet walls surely did the trick. you plunge inside of him and he's lost in euphoria, mind unable to function with the motion of your thrusts.

“i thought you said you could handle it baby, where's all that vigor now?” he throws his head back as you snake a few fingers around his throat, teasing a few more before finally clamping down. his back arches into your chest pads, whining and vibrating with excitement; you couldn't tell if it was how nicely you were treating his pussy or how badly he wanted to be used like a ragdoll. either way, you continued to plant rough spanks on his ass while the hand around his neck steadied your hips right against his sweet spot.

he was losing himself, thoughts disconnecting from reality.

“i..c- can't sir! m’sorry, you're too big!” despite his protests, you continue to grind the head of your cock right up against his cervix. he's physically unable to fit anymore of your thick, pulsing length inside and frowns slighty— wishing he could take you deep enough to paint his tongue white.

“can’t? i don't do, can't, puppy.” sure enough, your balls twitch once, twice, as they delve deeper into his creamy womb— so messy and dumb as he bucks his hips weakily in an last ditch effort to stuff himself full. a groan rumbles throughout your body as his first orgasm of the night shakes your shaft wonderfully, body still insisting he draw out as much pleasure as humanly possible.

his cunt splatters slick down your cock, adding to the mess that was already stirring around his tummy. the more wetness that collected the more inviting his hole was to your shaft— his stomach forming a very prominent, round bulge that showed off your cock very well. a telltale sign that his guts were surely moving to match your jabs.

it's too full— he was too full— but you didn't stop, your seed spilling out of his pussy as the sounds from his underside blended with his beautiful moans to create a lewd symphony. he was so overstimulated and so enthralled, eyes slightly crossing together and hot, salty tears leaking from his eyes as you fucked him through the both of your highs.

his cock bounced so pitifully as your merciless reign of hip-thrusts didn't slow from when you two had started. with one last, wholly thrust your warm, potent cum pumped blissfully into his infertile womb— his cunt overflowing with semen that would soon be selfishly sucked in like the rest.

the changes to his body made you undyingly hungry; wave after wave of your twitching cock just resting inside of him, desperately wanting to breech those sweet walls once more. he was bottomed out, his spent hole gaping around seemingly nothing as your dick popped out with little resistance; the cum from both of your groins pooling into a small puddle in the grass.

the way you rocked in and out of his meek, useless body made his resolve crumble so easily. his knees buckled out from under him and sent him onto the ground below— you were in need of a reward yourself, were you not?

it took him a minute, but soon you had him neatly settled between your legs; eyes wide with lust when the grin sprawled across your lips gave him the go ahead.

his body was still perfectly able to preform simple actions and that meant he wasn't finished. fucking and feeding him from both holes was your goal and let's just say a few janitors observed the two of you leaving, the quarterback snug between your arms— unable to move properly without support.

[melancholymetropolis]

No Idea

Pairings: Athlete!Kirishima x PlusSize!Reader

Summary: College AU The reader is Kirishima's History tutor and they kinda have a crush on each other. It takes an afterparty filled with horny guys and a skin-tight dress for Kiri to realize he wants them all to himself.

Warning: Do I even need to say it at this point? It's smut, obvi. Kinda unedited. The reader and her best friend are black. Kirishima is a football player; he's VERY possessive over the reader. Her best friend is a little gay for her as well.

Author's Note: This was a commission!!!!! The client gave me this insane prompt and I had no choice but to go over the word limit. If you want to commission me, click here! Your support really means the world to me. Enjoy!

Word Count: 5,300

“You’re back early!” My roommate, Liza, yelled from the other side of the apartment-style dorm room. The sound of her chair scraping the floor followed shortly after, along with the light footsteps of her sock-clad feet. “I left you a plate in the microwave, in case you were hungry. I could heat it up, if you’re too tired— why the long face? What happened?”

“He didn’t show up,” I sighed as I dropped my books on the table and sank into a chair.

“How can he not show up?” Liza fumed crossing her arms. “His GPA is already in the gutter from all the other quizzes he seemed to fail before the semester even started.”

“I know,” I replied in a bored tone.

“He’s on academic probation—”

“I know.”

“One more hiccup and he’ll be off the football team—”

“I know.”

“Not to mention how you practically have to bend backward to make time for him—”

“Mhm.”

“Just for him to flake on you for the third time! I just—”

“Liza, please,” I rose from my seat and stood in front of her. “You don’t have to be angry with me. It’s truly okay.”

“No! It’s not okay!” She stormed to the microwave and pulled the cover plate from the inside. She removed the foil and pushed it back into the device, before pressing the start button four times. She turns to face me and forces an angered sigh from her lips. “He likes you, you know that right?”

I lifted my books from the table and walked to our shared room. I took in the words that she threw at me with each step and digested them. Kirishima liked me. It wasn’t as though I didn’t have an inkling that he may be, sorta found me attractive. Although I wore glasses, I wasn’t blind. At least with them on. I saw the way he looked at me when we were less than a foot apart. Shoulders practically touching as we slouched over the Advanced American History textbook. Our hands brushing against each other’s ever so often. The sparkle in his eye when he looked at me longer than a few seconds; the blush on his cheeks when I smiled at his corny jokes. His persistent tendency to walk me home, although most times, we finished our study sessions just before dusk. The way he stayed glued to my side during the journey to my dorm. How he’d carry my books on the way. I noticed it all and practically welcomed it, since I too found him attractive. The spiky redhead just had a way of making everyone swoon over him. Kirishima was genuinely a nice person, not because there was something in it for him, but just because.

The beeping from the microwave brought me back to reality. I placed the textbooks on the designated space on the shelf and fixed my scattered stationery from that morning. Liza shuffled in with a bowl of baked fetta pasta, and a piece of toasted garlic bread a few minutes later. She placed the bowl on the desk, with a fork, a can of sparkling soda, and my favorite metal straw.

“What did I do to deserve you?” I said with a tired smile.

“Helped me pass ‘Text and Ideas’ with an A-,” Liza smiled back and placed a hand on my shoulder.

“Oh right,” I took a seat at the desk and forked the starchy dish in my mouth. “This is heaven-sent.”

“I knew you’d like it!” She deemed walking to her own desk. “I got the recipe from tiktok.”

I hum in response and continued to stuff my face. After a few minutes of silence, I grab the phone from my back pocket and unlocked it. A new message from Kirishima was the newest notification from many and it said:

Hey, I am sorry for not showing up. My teammate got shitfaced and decided to take a dive into the fountain. It took three of us to pull him out. It sucks because I was really looking forward to seeing you.

Since my mouth had already filled to its brink with pasta, I opted for a tight-lipped smirk instead of a toothy one. Kirishima all but admitted that he missed me. My hunch was right: the feelings are mutual. I swallowed the pasta and swiveled around in my chair to look at Liza. Her eyes were glued to her phone, but she snapped her head up to laugh at the content on her screen. Once she was down laughing, I picked my phone up and pointed it in her general direction. Reaching forward, she grasped the device and quickly read the message.

“Don’t respond to him,” she said, handing the phone back to me.

“Why? I thought you were shipping us together?” I asked whilst forking more pasta in my mouth.

“That’s why I’m telling you what I am telling you!” Liza rose to her feet and in a split second, she stood in front of me with a sickening smile.

“I am afraid to ask,” I said with a sigh.

“You don’t have to; I’m gonna tell you anyway,” she squats between my legs and widens her smile. “That boy is already wrapped around your finger, all you need to do is pull away. Just a tiny bit and he’ll come running.”

“Liza. . .”

“Hear me out!” She rose to her feet again and walked to the closet. “Remember when I went thrift shopping last week and I picked up that cute bodycon dress?”

“Yeah. . . ?”

“Well, I washed it and realized that it didn’t have the BODY to fill it out properly.” She pulls the dress from the closet and turns back to me. “And since the Homecoming Afterparty is at the Quarterback's house tomorrow night, I thought it would be the perfect time for you to wear it.”

I eye the dress, taking in its extremely short length and strappy detailing on the front. One wrong move and my breasts would spill right out of it. But, one right move would have them fall onto Kiri’s lap. I tried my best to list the pros and cons of the situation. Pondering what I could get out of the ordeal going to the lion’s den dressed as a gazelle. Yet, all I could imagine was me twerking on someone’s son and taking him home afterward.

💘🖤💘🖤

The dress fit like a glove: perfectly tight, almost like a second skin, but very breathable. I paired it with some hoop earrings, a few bangles on each wrist, and 3-inch kitten heels. My goal was to dress to impress, not nurse my aching arches by the end of the night. The entire ride over to the nicer part of town was nerve-wracking, for one, the Uber driver wouldn’t stop staring at my cleavage from the driver’s mirror. And, secondly, Liza practically had phone sex with her boyfriend, who was going to meet us at the party. I stared down at my phone the whole time, rereading Kiri’s message and the ones he sent afterward. It was true, he was wrapped around my finger. He didn’t double text; Kirishima sent five messages in a row.

Hey, are you free tomorrow? I wanted to talk about yesterday.

I’ll buy you that weird thing you like from Starbucks.

The drink you said that tastes like the moon.`

And I’ll get you those cake pop things.

My heart couldn’t help but flutter; I didn’t know he was paying that much attention to me. I only mentioned that Starbucks drink once in his presence, quite a while ago. It had to be a little over a month ago, yet he still remembered.

The car stopped and Liza popped right out. Her 34 inch Brazilian, straight swaying behind her as she closes the door. Still chatting with her boyfriend, she motions me out of the car with an eager smile. Reluctantly, I detach myself from the cool leather and tug on my dress as I closed the door behind me. I looked up toward the mansion before me, white paint and overwhelming size almost frightened me. But, when I saw a familiar, spiky-haired, redhead, all my potential fear left my body and warmth replaced it.

Kirishima’s back was to me; he was having an intense conversation with his best friend, Bakugo, one of the team��s Linebackers. The blond was so close to popping a fuse but Kiri was struggling to keep from laughing directly in his face. I approach the porch, slow and sensual, my eyes glued to him the entire walk over. Kirishima briefly turns around to address a comer of the group, Sero, an offensive player, when his eyes come up the steps. The humorous expression on his face drops and is replaced with awe. The other two boys look in the direction of his eyesight and replicate his reaction.

“Hi—” I lifted my hand to wave, but it never made it past my abdomen. Liza appeared right in front of me and captured my wrist.

“Girl, it’s our song! Hurry up!” She said as she proceeded to drag me into the house.

“Bye—! Wait, damn!”

Liza pulled me to the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the living room of the home. She starts to bop side to side, swaying her hips in place. It takes me a few seconds to register that “34+35” was blasting the speakers. Liza twirls around me in a fit of giggles and continues to bop along to the music.

“I thought you liked “positions” better than this track?” I questioned as I matched her rhythm.

“I do! I just had to get you out of there,” Liza answered as she swayed her head back and forth. Which made her hair move in an angelic wave behind her bandeau top and pencil skirt. “Those three guys looked like they wanted to run a train on you.”

“ELIZABETH!!!!” I screamed with a shocked smile.

“What?! I’m not lying!” She gives me a bashful smirk. “You look so good, mamas! Shit, you're making me rethink my relationship with Shinso.”

“Oh my god!” I laughed. “I can’t take your ass anywhere, for real!”

The song began to fade out and bleed into “Pussy Talk” with the infamous City Girls. Liza’s soft bops began to move into full booty bouncing. Soon her hands are on her knees and she’s throwing her ass back on my lap. I press my hand flat on her back and lift my other hand in the air. She whines her waist and looks back at me as her inner hot girl is threatening to make an appearance. Shortly after the first verse, Liza straightens her back and dances around me as I bop to the side, bouncing my ass to the music. A smile comes to my lips as my favorite part plays on full blast.

“Pussy talented, it do cartwheels,” Liza and I screamed in unison. “And he pay ‘cause he like how that part feel.”

“Pussy give speeches, heartfelt,” I continued, popping my back against my friend.

“Yuh,” Liza ad-libbed.

“Said the pussy really talk like it Garfield,” I rapped as I felt Liza’s hands glide up my sides.

“It do!”

We danced around each other for the rest of the song and pulled away from the floor, desperately needing to hydrate. We practically stumbled toward the makeshift bar across the living room. We reached into the cooler and pulled out two bottles of water. We chugged the water and tossed the empty bottles in the trash.

“Only water, ladies?” Mineta asked as we turned back towards the dance floor. “You don’t want something a little. . . stronger?”

“Get lost, grape juice,” a familiar voice suddenly came out of nowhere.

Just a few feet behind the purple blob stood Kirishima and Shinso. If looks could kill, Mineta’s body parts would be staining the marble floors and messing up my fresh pedicure. The poor excuse for a human scurried away as both football players approached us. Shinso instantly wrapped his arms around Liza and planted a kiss on her forehead.

“Having fun, baby girl?” His low voice sounded sensual against the harsh music.

A seductive smile falls on Liza’s face. “I would’ve had even more fun if you actually danced with me for once.”

“You know I don’t like—”

“Too bad!” She pulled Shinso to the dance floor.

Leaving me alone with Kirishima. I turned to look at him and offered him an awkward smile. “How was your diving lesson?”

The redhead returned my smile and scratched the back of his neck. “So you did read me my texts? I was starting to think you were mad at me or something.”

“Not at you, per se,” I replied thinking of my words carefully.

“Then who were you mad at?” Kirishima closes the distance between us and puts a finger under my chin. He redirects my attention to his face and gives me a smirk.

He looked good and he knew it. He wore a simple white t-shirt and black ripped jeans. But, he paired it with a burgundy leather jacket and a Cuban link silver chain. He had a gold wristwatch on his left wrist and a simple chain on his right. And his cologne. . . it danced in my nostrils. It wasn’t too heavy or suffocating; you simply had to be close to him to smell it.

Kirishima was playing a dangerous game and he knew it.

“At the people that take you away from me,” I looked at him with doughy eyes and slightly parted lips. A look of innocence was written all over my face.

Kirishima clenched his jaw and briefly looked away. A blush starting to form on his cheeks. “Well, I—. Shit.” He remained silent for a few seconds, gathering his words, before saying “You don’t know what you do to me, Y/N.”

“And what’s that?” I asked while removing his hand from my chin and bringing it to my lips. I gently kiss his bruised knuckles, never breaking eye contact while doing so.

The redhead opens his mouth to speak but is rudely interrupted by a yelling Liza.

“GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE, BITCH!!!! THEY’RE PLAYING OUR SONG!!!!”

While I was talking to Kirishima, the music seemed to slip away. I had no idea what was playing until I refocused my attention on the blaring speakers. “Come on, Kiri. Duty calls.” I drag him to the dance floor.

Liza unlatches herself from Shinso and twirls around me. “I’m not shy, I’ll say it. I’ve been picturing you naked.”

“I’m a little faded, you look like a fucking painting,” I continue the verse as I glide my hands along my body. “Big doe eyes, amazin’. She’s everything I’ve been prayin’.”

Liza walked up to Kirishima and glided her hand along his chest. “Me and your girlfriend playin’ dress-up house.” She pressed two fingers against her lips and poked her tongue out. “I gave your girlfriend cunnilingus on my couch.”

Kirishima blushes a bright red, nearly matching his hair. It takes everything in me not to laugh.

I look back at Shinso and he’s just shaking his head with a smile on his face.

“Go get your girlfriend, before she devours your teammate,” I said giggly quietly.

“Go get your best friend before she kills your loverboy,” Shinso counters looking down at me with a smirk.

“He looks like he's gonna pass out,” I replied, struggling to contain my laughter.

“If you think that’s bad, you should’ve seen him when you were twerking on Liza,” Shinso jested while leaning closer to me. “Eijiro looked like he came in his pants.”

I smacked his arm and leaned against his chest. “You’re lying!” Laughter overcame my body; tears were gathering in the corners of my eyes.

“I swear to god,” Shinso struggled to say while laughing. “Then, when Bakugo called you hot. . . Eiji almost went feral.”

“Stop. . . I can’t breathe. . .”

“You better fuck him like the world is ending. . . I can’t keep stopping him from. . . fighting the entire team over you.”

“You and Liza. . . perfect for each other. . . I cannot. . .”

The song swiftly faded out into another. Yet another one of Liza’s favorites: Buss it by Erika Banks.

The young woman peeled herself from Kirishima and began walking to her boyfriend. I distanced myself from Shinso and walked over to Kirishima. I wrapped my arms around his neck and looked into his eyes. “Are you okay, Kiri?” A smile painted my lips.

His eyes darkened and he gripped my waist firmly. “I want you. . . so bad right now.”

“How about we get outta here?” I suggested with a raised eyebrow.

“Go say goodbye to your friends, I’ll bring the car around,” Kirishima asserted with a smirk. He pressed a kiss to my forehead before detaching himself from me and walking out of the living room.

I turned back to Shinso and Liza, who were seconds away from eating each other’s face off. I tapped the loving couple and cleared my throat. They both pulled away and stared at me.

"We're leaving," I said simply.

"About fucking time," Liza replied with a smirk. "You better come back to the dorm in a goddamn wheelchair, if not, I'm sending you back to his place."

"You have like zero chill," I shook my head and waved goodbye.

"Don't forget to use protection!" Liza yelled after me.

A chuckle fell from my lips as I walked out of the front door. I found Kirishima exactly where he said he'd be: parked in front of the massive house, within a bright red mustang. He exited the car and walked around to the passenger side of the vehicle. He opened my door and helped me get in. Kirishima made sure I was buckled in and comfortable before entering the car on the driver's side.

He starts the vehicle, and places his right hand on my thigh. He gives the plush fresh a securing squeeze before pulling away from the curb.

The drive was short and sweet, averaging around ten minutes. We parked across the street from the boys’ dorm hall and exited the car. Kirishima opened my door and helped me out of the vehicle.

"If you don't want this, I could always take you home," he said as he shut my door. "I don't want to pressure you into anything."

"I want this more than you know," I responded while gripping his hand. "But, if I ever feel uncomfortable, I'll let you know."

Kirishima nods and smiles. "Good girl. Now let's go."

The moment his dorm's door closed, his body was pressed against mine and his hand glued to my waist. His lips massaged against my own, slow and sensually. I moaned against the kiss, and pressed my body closer to his. He felt so good attached to me, almost like he was meant to be against me. His searing hot kisses inched down my jawline and to my neck. Kirishima's hands slid up my abdomen and to my shoulders, he slipped the straps from the curved surface and pulled away just enough just to allow me to remove them from my arms.

He kissed the other side of my neck, leaving little bites here and there. The redhead ran his tongue against my collarbones and I swear a flood rushed to my nether regions. Kirishima kissed down and left my breast, gathering the anticipation that swirled through my body before latching his lips on my nipple. A throat my moan fell from my mouth and my legs jolted slightly. My mind continued to fog as he nestled against the sensitive bud, while happily moaning against the soft flesh. I pressed one hand against the front door and another in his hair.

Pants left my lips as I began to squirm underneath his body. "Take me to the bed, please," I begged while looking down at him. " I want you so bad, Kiri."

The redhead detached himself from my breast and gripped my chin. "Say my name, baby." His red eyes stared deeply into my brown ones, taking in every little detail of my expression.

"Eijiro," I said breathlessly.

"Say it again," he broke eye contact and gripped my waist.

"Eijiro."

His hands slipped down the curve of my rear and to my legs. He lifted limbs from off the ground and wrapped them around his waist. I wrapped my arms around his leg immediately afterward and giggled.

He walked further into the dorm room and passed through another dorm. He sits me on the extra-long twin bed and falls to his knees between my legs. Kiri unlatches my strappy heel and tosses it to the other side of the room. While he does the other foot, a smirk presses against his lips.

"What?" I asked while looking down at him.

"I'm just thinking about how this started," he said while smiling. "How my shifty grades gave me the best thing that ever happened to me."

"Stop it," I counter with a blush on my face. "You're exaggerating."

"Baby, I mean it with every fiber of my being when I say this," he leaned forward. "I've wanted to be with you for a while now, I just didn't know if you'd like me back. And I was kinda ashamed of taking so long to say something because you're so sweet and you really helped me a lot with Advanced American History. I didn’t want you to think I was using you for information or anything."

I leaned forward and pressed my lips on his forehead. "I liked you even before I officially knew you. When you beat the shit out of that guy that tried to home a drunk girl."

"I don't even remember that."

"It was during a Halloween party last year, that was when I first saw you. And I thought, "wow I wish more men like him existed in this world"."

"I can't believe you remember that."

"How could I not? You basically saved that girl's life and dignity. You were the only human being in a room full of predators. That's when I knew I wanted you for myself."

Kirishima laughs. "Greedy, little Y/N."

I shrugged.

"Come here."

I gathered the football player into my arms and pressed my lips onto his. Taking in every ounce of his kiss. Sucking on his bottom lip. Slipping my tongue within his mouth. Tugging against his collar to close the distance between us. After a few seconds, Kirishima kissed down my body again until he was face to face with my heated center. He scrunched the dress around my waist and pulled my panties off my legs before spreading my legs wide open.

"Oh… look how wet you are, baby," he kissed the soft skin in between my thighs. "All for me."

Kirishima dipped his head between my legs and took a long swipe at the sticky mess between them. A shiver ran along my spine, Arching my back, I released a soft whimper and spread my legs further apart. He dipped his tongue into the smooth canal repeatedly, bobbing his head as he completed the action. His calloused hands slid up my legs once more and hooked around my thighs. Kiri moved his hot mouth from the very bottom of my womanhood to the top, leaving a long string of spit along the way. The redhead sucked on the protruding bud tenderly; with hollowed cheeks, he looked up from my heat and stared into my eyes. I bit my lip and moaned loudly.

“Fuck, you feel good,” I arched my back against his mouth and bucked my hips slowly.

Kirishima released my bud with a silent “pop” and began lapping the rosy, pink button in great haste. My legs jolted at the new source of stimulation and a throaty whine fell from my lips. Squeezing my eyes shut, I squirmed underneath his mouth, desperately wanting to add more friction. Kiri noticed my slutty movements and began to move his tongue even faster.

“Ah. . . just like that, don’t stop,” my fingers gathered my bosoms and gave them a firm squeeze. The walls of my slick cave began to clench and release themselves at a faster pace. Tingles rose up my body, swirling against my lower abdomen, almost numbing my lower half entirely. Then, a searing sensation ripped through me, causing my hips to raise from the bed and my knees to shake. A low scream left my mouth as I felt the throbbing of my bud increase tremendously.

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” My hips fell on the bed again and my legs shook violently. Kirishima steadied them as much as he could before a whole another wave hit my body and my entire being went still.

“Ah! Eijiro!” I screamed as the pleasure shot through my body for the last time. Pants left my throat and short spurts, just as sweat dripped from my forehead. I looked down at Kirishima, who had just pulled away from my spasming cunny. He had a look of astonishment on his face, as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. He looked down at my wrecked body, taking in the shaking limbs, the thin layer of sweat upon it, and the scrunched-up dress at the waist.

“You sounded so hot screaming my name,” he finally said after a few seconds of silence. “No one has ever made it sound so good as you.”

“Well, grab a condom and I’ll scream your name for the rest of the night,” I replied with a smirk. “If you can last that long.”

“Oh, baby,” Kiri’s smile widened. “You have no idea.”

He walked over to his dresser and pulled out a box of condoms from the top drawer. He ripped one off the sleeve and walked back over to me. I pulled the scrunched-up dress over my head and tossed it to the side. I looked over at Kiri and he’d already stripped himself of his T-shirt. He was currently unbuckling his belt with the condom packet in his mouth. His massive bulge immediately caught my eye and I moaned in anticipation. Kirishima rips the packet open with his teeth and rolls latex down his throbbing shaft. My walls clench at the delicious sight and I could feel my nipple begin to stiffen

“If you’re still tired, we can wait a little—” Kirishima begins to say before I cut him off.

“Eijiro, stop being nice and fuck me like a slut.”

His lips were on mine within the next heartbeat. His hands roamed every crevice of my body, taking in the soft tissue and stretchmarks lovingly. His throbbing member slowly slid into me with little to no friction. He made sure to thumb my clitoris while inserting himself, just so he wouldn’t hurt me. And I swear, I was seconds away from asking him to marry me. He gently moved his hips backward, and then pushed forward again. Highlighting his first stroke. He looked at the crimson hue on my face and leaned down to kiss me.

“You are so pretty, princess,” Kiri groaned softly, as he moved his hips at a gentle pace. “So, so pretty.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him again. Our tongues danced together as his member tenderly kissed my sensitive walls with each thrust. Kirishima moaned against my lips, as he took in every part of that union. He hiked up one of my legs and hooked it around his waist while he cradled the back of my neck with the other. He looked into my eyes as he increased the pressure of his strokes and their depth. My mouth hung open, and drool poured from the side of it as he kept up the sickening pace. My eyes began to roll back as throat moans rose from the depth of my body.

“Oh God. . .” I slurred as the pleasure increased within my body.

“Aww look at my pretty baby,” Kiri grunted as he rested his hand on my neck. He pressed his thumb between my lips.

I sucked on the digit and looked into his eyes. He moved his hips faster and my lips separated from around the finger. Pants fell from my lips as I felt his member sensually assault my cervix. After a few minutes, Kirishima suddenly pauses and hikes one of my legs up to his shoulders. He readjusts his body, leaving his hand on my neck and placing his hand on my clit. Kiri began to rock his hips in a powerful, but steady motion. He rubs the throbbing bud in a gentle motion, slowly gathering every ounce of pleasure within my body. The pace of my breathing increased rapidly, as the pool in my stomach began to inflate. Whimpers fell from my lips as I gripped the sheets underneath me.

“I’m so close. . .” I whispered through tight lips. “Please don’t stop. . .”

“You’re squeezing me so deliciously tight, baby,” Kirishima grunts as a droplet of sweat drops from his brow. “Milking my cock for everything it’s worth. What a greedy little cunny you have.”

“Eijiro. . . I wanna cum so bad,” I whimpered through pants. “Please let me cum, baby.”

Kirishima curses under his breath and releases his hand from my throbbing bud. He places both hands onto my neck, thumbs pressing against my jaw. He eases his body forward and keeps his sickening pace. “You’re gonna be the death of me, I swear.”

I sucked in a breath and wrapped my hands around his forearms. I furrow my brows and pant with my mouth open. “You make me feel so good, Eiji. So fucking good!”

“You’re mine, you hear me?” He drops his hands from my neck and presses his forehead to mine. “You don’t get to fuck anyone else. . . . .You don’t get to be with anyone else. . . .My name will be the only name you moan for the rest of your life, do you understand?”

I nod. “I understand.”

“You’re mine and no one else's.”

He pulls me into a searing hot kiss. Drinking in all the love and energy throughout my body. I hook my arms around his neck and moan against his lips. Suddenly, I felt an intense rush of adrenaline pass through my body and everything seemed to go silent. A low ringing noise sounded in my ear as my mouth fell open. I dug my arms into his back and clung to his body. Every fiber of my being tensed and my mind went completely blank for several seconds. Then, slowly, my body released itself and collapsed onto the bed. I opened my eyes lazily to see Kirishima’s eyes tightly closed and his hips slightly shaking. Once he finished his ride, his body relaxed and he lowered my leg from his shoulder. He pulled me into an embrace and pressed another kiss onto my lips.

I pulled away from the kiss and looked into his crimson eyes. “Were you serious about calling me yours?”

“Ugh. . . yes?” He replied hesitantly. Then, he added “If that’s okay with you! I don’t wanna force you—”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I cut him off with a smirk.

“Oh, I was worried for a second.”

“The only thing you should be worried about is your Advanced American History grade.”

“Oh, right. . .”

“You miss another one of my sessions, I’ll ignore you again.”

“Please don’t! I will be present at every session.”

“Good. And you have to be Starbucks.”

“The drink that tastes like the moon?”

“Matcha latte with 2 pumps of chai. Yup.”

“And two chocolate cake pops.”

“Mhm. You know me so well.”

[thesquidkid]

So my favourite cartoon growing up just got renewed for a 4th season and I wanna properly talk about it. It’s called ‘Foot 2 Rue’ (you might recognize from me talking about it every occasion I can lmao), and this is what I have to say about it, about the reboot, and about the fourth season.

First of all, what is foot 2 rue? It’s a French/Italian show that follows 7 kids (5 at first) that play street football in the fictional town of Port-Marie. Their team name is ‘Les Bleus’, and they are aged 11-14. This show originally aired 2005-2010, with the reboot airing 2014-2015 and the 4th season starting in 2022. I will first talk about the original 3 seasons, then the reboot, and finally the fourth season.

Now, why is it my favourite cartoon, and how did it impact my life so much? (putting this under a cut for people who don't want to see one of my rants about foot 2 rue) Here you can find more information of the show

Well, for starters, let’s talk about the three rules of foot 2 rue: “Amitié, respect, solidarité!” or in English: friendship, respect, solidarity. The fourth unofficial rule (tho it is repeatedly pointed out) is that each team must have at least one girl. These ‘rules’ meant that as a kid, I played football with the guys, putting backpacks on the ground to make the goals. It teaches kids that you should treat others with respect, that you should help each other out, be nice to one another, and that girls can play with boys too if they want.

Another aspect that makes this show so special to me and to many other kids, is one that I only really realised once I was older. Diversity. These kids, who play football all together, come from many different backgrounds. And I don’t just mean diversity when it comes to skin colour. We have kids who are orphans, or whose parents are divorced, or whose parents are busy with work. We see kids who feel left out because they are the eldest of 10, or kids who are only children yet their parents aren’t much present. We have kids who were raised by grandparents, or raised in an institute. Some of the kids live in a homeless shelter, others live in council housing. Some kids are disabled, whether that be physically or mentally. The one thing they all have in common? Football.

I am lucky enough that when I was a child, I didn’t really realise that there was such prejudice against other people, simply because they are different. My parents raised me to look at everybody the same, to treat everyone with the same respect. And as a kid, I never questioned why my friends were different, they just were.

But then I started middle school, where I got bullied for being different. And that sucked. But I also made really good friends there, people who had also watched foot 2 rue growing up, people who didn’t see differences as a weakness but as a strength instead. One of the girl who bullied me started off as my friend, and I may be a small insignificant thing, but I know that her parents didn’t let her watch this cartoon growing up because it would be a bad influence on her.

Now, I may be naive to believe that such a little cartoon could impact people into respecting others, but I believe it does indeed make a change.

One of my cousin’s classmates was in a wheelchair, and I remember clearly the day we watched the episode where one of the kids who plays football is also in a wheelchair. Because she drew the kid that was on the tv and gave it to her friend.

I could go on and on for days, talking about the major and minor characters in depth, and maybe one day I will. The characters all have layers to them, their personalities are so distinctive, yet they cover a pretty large ground when it comes to representation. I’m pretty sure that if everyone here watched it, you would relate strongly to at least one character, major or minor.

So, you can see how foot 2 rue is such a great show and how it impacted me so much, right? Okay, now let's talk about the reboot.

Foot 3 rue extrême. Or as my cousin likes to call it, the "bland" foot 2 rue. Because we went from a show that put forward diversity, telling kids that it was okay to be different, that you could even find strength in being different to a show that was mostly only about winning.

We went from a show which was mostly about kids of colour, kids from all sorts of backgrounds, to a show that was moslty about white rich kids.

When I say the reboot is moslty about winning, I don’t mean that the original wasn’t. Les Bleus were twice world champions, and they didn’t often lose a game, we saw them lose in other aspects. Many episodes centered around the captain, Tag, an orphan, looking for a father figure. We saw these kids be kids. They argued, and made dumb choices, and cried. But together, as a team, they fought back, they won, they laughed.

In my opinion, the reboot feels like the studio wanted to tone it down, to please a greater audience. And to make it more interesting, they added the idea of a challenge before each game. These challenges, once again imo, make it less ‘real’. What I mean by that, is that foot 2 rue was about taking 4 backpacks or coats to create goals. Or using pre-existing objects, like benches or bushes. It was about a game that kids have always, and will always play: street football.

There are no rules in street football, only to show respect. On the other hand, the reboot and the challenges meant you needed preparation, you needed rules and perhaps even an audience.

The main reason why I am not a fan of the reboot is that the characters seem to lack layers. Which is ironic considering the original is in 2D and the reboot in 3D. I don’t like the reboot in many ways, but I won’t shit on people who enjoy it, everyone has different taste.

Now, talking about the fourth season. So far I have only watched the first 2 episodes, but I needed to write this out while I still had it in mind. It supposedly takes place a few months after the end of season 3, though there are some major changes, like the presence of smartphones. We follow a minor character, P’tit Dragon, as he takes the lead of Les Bleus and builds his own team.

We are back in Port-Marie (the reboot takes place somewhere else, can’t really recall where) with the same background characters. The locations are the same: the institute, the marketplace, the old port etc (oh I forgot to add, the reboot only takes place in the building site of a shopping center). The drawings are back in 2D, in a similar style (which is totally bringing me back to childhood).

And most importantly, we are back with a show that puts forward diversity.

[parkersbliss]

Heyy I absolutely love the Gally imagine you wrote! I mean its so good and it feels so natural and his character fits so well and it was so cute😟 Idk if you have time but if you like the idea could you maybe write a gally×Reader where they are all in the safe haven and joking around, just having fun with the others? And they confess their feeelings and its just a lighthearted fluffy thing? Because I think Gally can be a happy person too🥰 And your writing is so amazing that I think you can totally rock this♥️ And idc if you don't do it, I still love your Blogs and everythikg you've written so far🥰

ahhh thank you so much!! that is so sweet of you <3

Charades | Gally

—

They say time heals all wounds, and at first, you didn’t want to believe that. How could a few years erase what happened to you in the maze?

But it wasn’t time that erases it; it is the people you surround yourself with. You find yourself creating new memories to overlap the bad ones, and the pain dulls because all you can feel is happiness.

“Do you guys remember when Thomas first came up and completely face-planted into the grass?” Gally asked as everyone howls with laughter.

“I missed that?” Minho shouts, looking to Thomas, who smiles bashfully.

“Not my greatest moment.”

Minho slaps him on the back, “I death glared you the first time I walked past.”

You laugh at that, “That is so true! You had murder in your eyes.”

Minho holds his hands up in surrender, “In my defense, he was looking at me weird.”

“Yeah, probably because you just ran out the wall Thomas was specifically told not to go in,” You snort.

The laughter dies down as the fire rages higher in the night, the flames dancing in the wind.

“Do you guys ever miss it?” Fry asked, a thoughtful look on his face.

“The maze?” Gally questions as Fry nods in response.

Thomas shakes his head, “No, not really, but I mean I wasn’t there as long as you guys.”

You hum in thought. “I think it was simpler, easier. We had Newt, Chuck, Winston, all of them, but then again, I think being here and not being chased by grievers is a lot better.”

“I can toast to that,” Gally said.

You all chuckle, raising your glasses and clicking them together, the drink spilling over the edge as you all eagerly drink up.

The maze was a while ago; it was years ago. Things were definitely better here, that was obvious, but the maze was a home.

And you couldn’t help but miss it sometimes.

You glance around at your friends, most here, some gone, new ones too, and some that returned.

Your eyes linger a bit longer on Gally. He was so much different from who he used to be. He was happier, to say the least.

“We should play charades,” Minho suggested.

“We should?” Thomas questioned as Minho grabbed his arm.

He whispers something in Thomas’s ear before sitting down with a smirk on his face. Thomas glares at him before sticking his hands out and walking with a limp. He sticks his tongue out, making a sort of groaning noise.

The answer is easy.

“Crank!”

He claps his hands, pointing at Fry, the two boys exchanging seats as Thomas gives Fry his.

Fry laughs before standing in front of you guys and placing his hands on his hips. He purses his lips, staring off into the distance.

“A prince?”

“Posing?”

“Model!”

Fry pretends to run a hand through his hair before returning to his original pose.

“Hair model?”

“Minho!” You shout out.

The said boy hits your arm playfully as Fry claps.

“Yes!”

Minho scoffs, “Your pose was off. It’s more like this.” He demonstrates.

Gally rolls his eyes, throwing a piece of paper at him. “Boo!”

Everyone else joins in on booing Minho, who mumbles something under his breath and sits back down but not before running a hand through his hair.

Fry comes over to you, whispering in your ear the word “soccer.”

You give him a look with raised brows as he shrugs, patting your shoulder. You internally groan and begin kicking your feet, pretending there was a ball between them. You pretend to kick it hard, making a goal, and start cheering.

“Football?” Thomas shouts.

“No, it’s tennis, you idiot!”

“Basketball?”

“Baseball?”

“Dodgeball?”

“Frisbee!”

“Frisbee doesn’t even have a ball, Minho, wait, does it?”

“No, it doesn’t!”

You laugh loudly at the boy's attempts to remember the name of the sport.

“Oh!” Minho exclaims loudly. “Soccer! Is it soccer?”

You clap loudly, exhausted from all the kicking and bickering. He jumps up, cheering, shouting about how he is the best guesser, and everyone loudly disagrees.

“Raccoon,” you whisper in his ear.

His entire face falls as you giggle, sitting down next to Gally.

“What did you tell him?” Gally asked an amused look on his face as Minho begins.

The poor boy kneels down, giving himself ears with his hands and widening his eyes.

“I can’t tell you, that is cheating,” You reply, raising your eyebrows at Gally.

He shrugs, “A little cheating never hurt anyone.”

Your conversation is interrupted when Minho runs up to Thomas, grabbing his drink and making a poor squeaking sound.

Thomas begins yelling at him as everyone doubles over in laughter.

“Give it back!” Thomas shouts as Minho replies with aggressive squeaking, holding it close to his chest.

Thomas groans, “someone guess it already!”

“Squirrel?”

“Rabbit!”

“Thief!”

“No shit, Thomas.”

Minho shakes his head, eyes darting around and landing on a trashcan. He grabs the lid and places it on his head while he pretends to go through it.

“Trash Panda!” Gally shouts. “Raccoon!”

Minho jumps up, “Yes, thank you!”

Gally high-fives you. “Good one.”

You wink, “I try.”

Gally goes up, and Minho gives him a devilish smirk, whispering something in his ear that makes Gally blush. The boy stands there awkwardly as Minho sits down next to you. They seem to share a conversation with their eyes, and Gally sighs.

He walks over to you, extending his hand out, and you take it with minor suspicion.

“Gally?” You ask.

He shakes his head, making a zipping motion across his lips. He brings you to the middle of the circle, letting go of your hand as you both stare at each other.

Then, suddenly, his hands grab your face pulling you into a kiss. Your friends being cheering and clapping as you slowly get used to the feeling of his lips on yours.

You melt into it, letting your eyes flutter shut as you settle into the state of bliss.

Gally pulls back cheeks pink.

“Kissing?” Thomas guesses, and Gally nods. He gives Thomas his next charade and grabs your hand, sitting down next to you.

You cough, “so…”

“I like you, (Y/N),” Gally said. “Like a lot, I mean enough to kiss you in front of all of them.”

A grin spreads across your face, “I like you too, enough to do it again.”

“Wha-,”

Gally’s cut off as you kiss him again.

“I give him one thing to act out, and now they’re sucking faces!” Minho shouts.

You flip him off.

[usakiboi]

Got a list of fic ideas collecting dust because I suck at writing, if there’s any Sakuhina or Sasuhina fans who are experiencing writers block I got you

Sasuhina 🖤💜

Hinata searches for a reason to die but instead gets a boyfriend in return

After the death of her husband, Hinata Uzumaki is left fending for herself and two children. What’s a single mother to do than get a job, though she may have taken the wrong path

-sugar daddy

-boruto kiddies

-Divorced Sakura and Sasuke

-Sakulee (you can change this if you want)

-Sarada plays soccer

Bonus: “God I should have listened to my parents, this marriage was a lost dream and gave nothing in return...” Sakura groaned

“I wouldn’t say that, I did enjoy your company despite your constant talking....plus something good DID come out of it.” Sasuke held amusement in his voice and pointed towards Sarada

The girl ran across the field like lightning, she slid pass the other girls and as she reached the goal she pulled her leg back “CHA!” the ball flew so fast Sakura could have sworn she saw fire come from it. As the ball made impact with the goal the two parents had the pleasure of seeing their daughters victory dance “Uh-huh! Oh yea! I did that! Uchiha princess, Sarada Uchia BABY!”

“I Hate My Husband”

Hinata and Sasuke are married and she can’t stand him

“26 and Lonely”

Sasuke and Hinata are unexpectedly transferred to modern society to apparently help themselves get together. The only problem is that they’re both losers and seem to hate each other

-Hinata is a game addict, anime fan, and often cosplays

-Sasuke is hella emo and also a game addict, huge nerd

-They both are very different from the past Hinata and Sasuke

-Sasuke wears really nerdy glasses

-Bully Naruto and Sakura

-Hinata slowly picks up the modern day lingo

-26 year old virgin Sasuke

Hinata Hyuuga, pure blue blood, childhood best friend of Sasuke Uchiha, and certified bitch. Cheating, OOC, daddy’s money

Hinata is a spirit medium in training and comes across a spirit that can’t seem to rest until her last wish is fulfilled which leads her to befriending Sasuke Uchiha.

Someone’s been leaving lunch boxes out for Sasuke and he’s determined to figure out who

-Kiddie fic

Sasuke somehow gets magical powers after eating a plum from a strange women, the only problem is that he takes a less than desirable form when he wants to use them

-Magical girl Sasuke

-Yes he becomes a girl

-Hinata has a crush on girl sasuke

Sasuke is prince trapped in a birds body and his need a princess to kiss his damn beak to save him

Hinata Hyuuga and Sasuke Uchiha two of the richest children in Japan attend Konoha High as the school’s top students. One is a known delinquent and the other is a class president..or at least that’s how people see her

-Future Mafia leader! Hinata

-Sasuke is her lackey

-They’re often seen together

-Badass Hinata

-Smiles when she taunts her victims

-Sasuke is lowkey creeped out by her

The Hyuga family known for their tech and booming businesses are one of the richest family in the world, but is that really where they’re getting all their income from. Sasuke Uchiha doesn’t believe so and with the help of his brother and family police business he plans to bring to light the dirty ways of the Hyuuga...you know...if the heiress doesn’t blow his head off first

Sakuhina 💖💜

Sakura is a football player, Ino is her cute cheerleader friend/crush, and Hinata is the new girl who she bullies

-Sakura plays with the boys team

-Wallflower Hinata, wears sweaters and long skirts and glasses

-Mean girl Ino

-Mean girl Karin

-Hinata can fight (it’s what gets Sakura to notice her)

-Set in America

Sakura is a fitness trainer and while Hinata enjoys yoga she wouldn’t mind having the woman spot her once or twice

Hinata is a good mother and a good wife, she just so happens to have a few health problems and she just so happens to only want one doctor to look after her. It wasn’t anything serious

Tired of their husbands absence, Hinata and Sakura confide in each other for consolation

Pissed off by their father’s lack of attention, Boruto and Sarada decided to set up their mothers

Sakura can’t help that she had a crush, Hinata was nice, Naruto didn’t notice the girl and Sasuke rejected her. Neither had a man, it was bound to happen.

Sakura finally understands why she’s fascinated by big boobs (Rated M)

Hinata is a witch and she has a crush on a human girl

Sakura couldn’t believe it. A mermaid. She found a mermaid! A busty mermaid.

Hinata has always had a thing for muscles

Hinata has an amazing body and Sakura gladly reminds her.

Hinata and her husband has a secret. (Crossdresser! Sakura) (Victorian era)

Normally witches have black cats yet Hinata has a pink one

Your Choice

Sarada has anger issues and Sakura and Sasuke take her to a specialist to figure out the root of the cause and see if they can fix it. Luckily the woman is pretty cute.

-Child psychologist Hinata

-Humor/Romance

-Sarada overshares a lot and changes the subject quickly

Team 7 is sent on a mission to protect the Hyuuga Heriesses on their way to a diplomatic meeting

Hinata is the chosen holy priestess yet unfortunately she sucks at what she does

-Twin sisters, Shion and Hinata

-They’ve been locked up for years

-Hanabi loves her sisters when she meets them

-Hiashi redemption?

-Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura are left to watch over them

Hinata, Naruto, Sasuke, and Gaara are officially the four great priest of their world after the demise of the previous. Unfortunately they were still in training so they have...a lot to work on

-Water priest Hinata/Wind priest Naruto/Fire priest Sasuke/Earth priest Gaara

-Sakura is a bodyguard for Hinata

-Comedy Rated T

Hinata plays mom for a very sick Team 7

Sakura has a crush on two dark haired beauties

<3

[fruitcoops]

Would love to see a wired autocomplete interview with coops! 🥰

Anon, did you read my mind? These two have such chaotic energy when they’re given an outlet and it was a true pleasure to write it. Dorcas is exhausted. Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

“Wait, I want to pull the tab,” Remus said, tugging on the edge of the cardboard lightly as Sirius tried to hold it out of his reach without falling off his chair.

“I get to read it out loud for you and then we switch!” Sirius protested, smacking him gently on the head with it. The resulting bonk noise made them both break down laughing.

“You guys know we’re rolling, right?” Dorcas asked as she gathered a stack of cards in her lap, looking highly amused.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” She turned to the camera with a bright smile. “Welcome back to Lion Pride, hockey fans! I’m Dorcas Meadowes and I’m here today with Sirius Black and Remus Lupin to answer some of the internet’s most pressing questions. How are you two feeling?”

“Terrified,” Sirius said.

“The internet is like the Twilight Zone,” Remus agreed. “Who goes first?”

“Sirius, you’ve got a card already. Take it away.”

He cleared his throat and grabbed the edge of the first pull tab, ripping it off slowly. “That is so satisfying, woah. How tall is Remus Lupin?”

“I am five foot eleven and a half.”

“That half inch comes from your sneakers and you know it.”

“It does not!”

Sirius just smiled and removed the next paper slip. “What language does Remus Lupin speak?”

“I speak English and a little bit of French. Tried to learn Spanish in high school, but failed miserably.”

“I love the wording on this one,” Sirius said as he turned the board toward the camera. “Remus Lupin Green Bay Packers.”

“Dammit, now everyone knows my full name,” Remus sighed. “Uh, the Packers are cool.”

“I think people were wondering if you ever played on the team,” Dorcas said.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Do I look like a football player to you?”

“Next question!” Sirius ripped the tab off and took a good section of the paper above with it. There was a beat of stunned silence. “I am…so sorry.”

Behind the camera, Marlene burst out laughing, along with most of the camera crew. “It’s fine, keep reading.”

“Okay, um…” Sirius squinted at the partially torn-off question. “Remus Lupin name meaning.”

Remus groaned. “I hate this question. Yes, it does mean Wolf Wolf. Yes, my dad’s name also means Wolf Wolf. Yes, my mother’s maiden name is Howell. I’m aware of the endless puns.”

“Don’t you mean a-were?” Sirius asked as a slow grin spread across his face. Remus grabbed the card and bonked him over the head with it.

“Remus, your turn.” Dorcas handed him a poster board and took the blank one.

“I’m going to be careful with this one, unlike somebody,” he teased, kissing Sirius on the cheek. “Is Sirius Black…related to Pascal Dumais?”

“In all the ways that matter, yes.”

Remus grinned when he read the next one. “Is Sirius Black missing a tooth?”

“No!” Sirius gave the camera an offended look. “I have all my teeth, thank you very much.”

“Is Sirius Black mean?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Reporters don’t like you very much.”

“The feeling is mutual. I love the fans though, most of them are so sweet.”

“Oh, I like this one. Is Sirius Black married?” Remus rested his chin on the top of the card and batted his eyelashes, making Sirius laugh.

“Almost! Ask me again in July.” Remus set the card on the floor and Dorcas passed Sirius a new one. “Does Remus Lupin wear glasses?”

“Nope.”

“Does Remus Lupin—I have never said your name so many times in one sitting, my god—does Remus Lupin have siblings?”

“Yup.”

“Does Remus Lupin—”

“Can you elaborate?” Dorcas asked with a laugh. “How many siblings? Names? Ages?”

Remus turned to the camera. “I have one brother named Julian and he’s ten years old. He likes piggyback rides, ice cream, and hockey.”

“Much better. Take it away, Cap.”

“Does Remus Lupin have allergies?”

Remus frowned in confusion. “Why do people want to know that? Uh, yeah, I’m allergic to some pollens. Spring is hell.”

“How many of these do we have?” Sirius asked as he tossed the board over his shoulder and crossed his legs.

“Quite a few! Loops, you’re up.”

“Where is Sirius Black from?”

“Canada.”

“Where does Sirius Black live?”

“The Lions ice rink. I set up a tent in the middle of the goal posts every night so that I’m never late to practice.”

“Sirius Black gay.”

Sirius paused. “I think we’re missing a couple words in there.”

“That’s literally all it says,” Remus laughed, moving it to show him. “Sirius Black gay. I don’t know, honey, Sirius Black gay?”

“Sirius Black very gay,” he confirmed. “Sirius Black thinks people need to have better grammar.”

“Is Sirius Black’s hair naturally curly?”

“No, I use a curling iron every morning to do each individual curl,” he said. “It takes me seven hours and thirteen minutes, and I use a full can of hairspray.”

Remus scooted over so Dorcas could hand him a new card. “He keeps a stopwatch and tries to beat his personal record every time.”

Sirius pulled the first tab away and immediately started laughing too hard to speak.

“What does it say? You can’t just leave me hanging!” Sirius turned the board around and Remus leaned down to read it. “Is Remus Lupin hockey? Yes. I am the entire sport of hockey condensed into one being. I’m coming for basketball next. Thanks for asking!”

It took a few seconds for Sirius to get his breath back. “What is Remus Lupin—”

“I thought we just answered that.”

“—what is Remus Lupin zodiac sign?”

Remus paused. “Is that the thing Pots was talking about the other day? With the quiz?”

“That was love languages.”

“Your zodiac sign depends on your birthday,” Marlene called. “When were you born?”

“March 10th.”

“You’re a Pisces.”

“I’m a Pisces!” he said brightly to the camera. “No idea what that means, but it sounds cool.”

“It means you’re two fish.” She laughed as Remus sucked his cheeks in for a fish face. “Very nice.”

“Thank you.”

Sirius was especially careful as he pulled the paper slip off the next question. “What is Remus Lupin first job?”

“The grammar of these questions is killing me. Um, I worked in the university bookstore during college.”

“On the list of ‘things that don’t surprise anyone’,” Dorcas joked.

“Did Remus Lupin go to college?”

Remus gave the camera a look. “First of all, I have a medical degree. Second of all, did people completely forget about the whole ‘about to be drafted right out of college’ thing? It was a grand total of four years ago! Google it!”

“That’s what they did,” Sirius pointed out, gesturing to the board.

“True.”

“Last one for this card: how old is Remus Lupin?”

Remus thought for a moment. “Y’know, I kind of lost track after the first few centuries. My turn…what is Sirius Black real name?”

Sirius glanced at the camera. “It’s Sirius Black? Is this a trick question?”

“There are people out there who think that’s a fake name,” Dorcas said.

“Um, okay. Yeah, my real name is Sirius Black, my brother is Regulus, my dad is Orion, and I have cousins named Andromeda and Bellatrix.”

“What’s your uncle’s name again?” Remus asked.

“Which one? Cygnus? Phineas Nigellus? Arcturus?” At Dorcas’ surprised look, he laughed. “Oh, I could go all day long with this. That’s the tea on old French families with weird-ass naming traditions.”

“This next one is similar: Sirius Black middle name?”

“Orion.”

“Fun fact: the first time I saw your full name, Moody had written it and I thought it said ‘onion’.” Remus laughed as Sirius’ jaw fell open. “Those three seconds were a highlight of my life. Alright, what’s next…what color are Sirius Black’s eyes?”

“Blue.”

Remus shook his head. “They’re gray, almost silver.”

“Basically blue.”

“There’s nothing basic about you, babe.” Remus slid the board onto the floor and passed Sirius a new one. “Hit me with your best shot.”

“Is Remus Lupin Canadian?”

“I wish.”

“Is Remus Lupin left-handed?”

“No, but a lot of people seem to think that I am.”

“Is—” Sirius cut off with a snort. “Is Remus Lupin scrappy?”

“Are you fucking with me?” Remus asked, leaning over. “Is that actually what it says?”

“Yep.”

“Scrappy? Really?” He shook his head, lost for words. “I mean, I guess. Nobody’s ever called me scrappy before.”

“I don’t like this last one. How much is Remus Lupin worth?” Sirius wrapped an arm around his shoulders and kissed his temple. “You’re priceless.”

“I’m worth at least half a PB & J, but only if you use the good peanut butter. If you use the shitty Skippy stuff, hand over the whole sandwich. My turn! Does Sirius Black have piercings?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Does Sirius Black have an Instagram?”

“I do. Sblack12, if you want to see pictures of my friends’ kids and this cutie.”

“Is Sirius Black Australian?”

“Fuck off. I’m French Canadian, how the hell did anyone think I was Australian?”

“Sirius Black birthday.”

“I have one.”

“What is it?” Marlene asked. “I’ll tell you your zodiac sign.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “November 3rd.”

“Scorpio bitch.”

“Hey!”

“On the bright side, Scorpios and Pisces are super compatible.”

“What a relief, I was really banking on our astrology compatibility,” Remus said drily.

Dorcas handed Sirius a fresh board. “First up: can Remus Lupin sing?”

“Eh.”

“The correct answer is yes. What is Remus Lupin like in real life?”

“I’m horrible. I kick every puppy I see and carry one of those sticky hands from arcades to steal candy from children.” A smile twitched at the edges of his mouth and Sirius’ cheeks turned pink from suppressing his laughter. “Like Spiderman, but evil.”

“What happened to Remus Lupin after college?”

“What didn’t happen to Remus Lupin after college?” he laughed, leaning back in his seat. “These past couple years have been bonkers fucking yonkers. I became a PT, got a secret boyfriend, and now I’m engaged and an NHL player. There were, like, three seasons of character development squished into eighteen months.”

“Alright, last one. Why Remus Lupin kissed Sirius Black?”

“Because he’s hot and nice. Also, because he’s my fiancé.”

“Is that the criteria for kisses?” Sirius asked. “I just have to be hot and nice?”

“Pretty much. You’ve got both boxes permanently checked.”

“Final card,” Dorcas warned as she handed it to him. “Make it count.”

Remus cleared his throat. “How does Sirius Black work out?”

“I rollerskate and hula hoop for six hours a day simultaneously.”

“How old is Sirius Black?”

“Ageless.”

“How did Sirius Black meet Remus Lupin?”

“Fun story, actually. You know the movie Ocean’s Eleven?”

“Are Sirius Black and James Potter—”

“Dating.”

“—still friends.”

“Damn, I thought I had that one.” He did a double take. “Still friends? What happened? I saw him an hour ago, tops.”

“You might have to google it,” Remus suggested as he slid the board across the floor. “That’s it!”

“Way to go, guys,” Dorcas laughed. “I know literally nothing new about you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sirius said as the two high-fived. “We were completely honest the whole time.”

She faced the camera with a poorly-hidden smile. “Thanks for joining us today, Lions, and remember to like and subscribe for more content!”

[yarbz]

cowardly game of rival — n.jaemin ( f )

synopsis!

 ━ as the girl’s football team captain, you were used to the endless derogatory taunts, the wolf-whistling, the attempts at romance being boys telling you what they thought of barcelona’s starting XII. na jaemin fell into all those catergories, a detestable flea in your hair. as sworn enemies, there was not even an inkling of romance, and you were convinced that your attraction to him was ONLY physical. weren’t you?

pairing ━ na jaemin x female!reader

word count ━ 6k

genres ━ fluff, rival!au, football!au, comedy, romance, very little of the football game is described in detail.

warnings ━ profanity, football terms, dirty jokes, y/n and jaemin are literally just cowards

( author's note! )

this one came to mind when i thought of how i love female footballers and decided that jaemin would be the idiot in question to chicken out of confessing to their crush by being an ass instead. i really hope you like it !! other notes are sissoko is the name of like three different players and a cracker is slang for a really good goal.

Football.

A sport of creatively insane wits, fancy footwork and incoherent celebrations. Those were all the things you loved about it, along with the ridiculously cute uniform.

It provided you an escape from the man's world, a chance to carve out your own story, free from the shackles of stereotypes. At least, that's what you'd initially thought.

Unfortunately, the boy's football team made it their sole objective in life to demean you. As captain, you took on the strenuous task of refusing to resort to physical violence when a stupid comment about your short length was made or when boys assumed you couldn't tell your Sissoko's apart (you could, quite well actually).

You had taken it as a sign of war, and refused to comment on their pathetic sneers. You did, however, feel as if Na Jaemin made a blood pact or something to be a parasite towards you.

He stood at the cusp of six foot, towering over you like an evergreen beanstalk, cheshire-cat like smile taunting you. Chocolate colour tresses fell over his eyes in straight lines, shielding his forehead.

It's not like you paid attention to his visage, but even you had to admit in your spite that he was attractive. And horribly so.

Today started like every other, going to your locker before heading to your homeroom. Luckily, you'd managed to get there before the freshmen started to pile in. Being a senior had its positives along with its various faults, one of them being the early access you got to the school.

You jammed your key in the lock, flinging open the locker door, making quick work of exchanging your books. In your fast-paced stupor, you didn't notice the figure leaning behind the door. You slammed the door shut, nail catching an patch of skin, scraping it.

"If you wanted me to leave, you could've been less catty." The voice wheedled, throwing a withering glare in your direction. You rolled your eyes, annoyed, arms crossed across your chest.

"Jaemin." You sighed, rubbing your temples. "Why are you hiding behind my locker? Are you looking for a death wish?"

He sat up slowly, soothing his reddening nose, suddenly regaining his smile as he leaned closer towards your face. "If I was looking for a death wish, I'd eat whatever food you just stuffed in there."

"Fuck off. Don't see you making any gourmet meals."

"I'm the gourmet meal." He slithered, breath fanning your nose. From this distance, you could see the wonder swimming within his eyes, breath caught in your throat.

Damn, he was too fine.

You tore your gaze from his eyes, "And yet, I don't feel inclined to taste it." He jumped back in surprise, eyes widening, giving you an opening to dash. Chuffed that you left him speechless, you walked towards your next class, resisting the urge to turn back to revel in his awe-struck face.

Jaemin's eyebrow quirked in curiosity, crooked smirk hanging from his lips. He watched you stalk away, cursing underneath his breath softly. You carried a fiery aura around you, burning him with every snarky remark — even though it beat him bruised ghastly lavenders, he could bear to play with fire if it meant you would pay him attention.

You see, Jaemin did not hate you as per say. The 'hate' which you believed in was merely his inability to profess his affections towards you. For lack of a better word, he was a coward.

A dashingly handsome one, but a fragile, chicken-legged coward all the same.

You'd made it to class in record time, ego bared boldly on your shoulders, attracting the curious eyes of your best friends Yangyang and Donghyuck. Both were terrorists in their own right, but you couldn't help loving them all the same. Sure, they came as a dreadful pair, but love had decided to shackle your heart to them.

"What's got you so happy? Jaemin finally drop dead?" Yangyang joked, shifting to make space for you. Headband strapped to the pinnacle of his forehead, he grinned at you from beneath the base of stretchy ebony material.

"No..not yet." You hummed, sad lilt to your tone.

"Awh, didn't kill him yet?" Donghyuck teased, nudging Yangyang in their laughter. "I think it must be love stopping you from committing the crime yourself." You shoved both, peals of laughter tickling your throat at their whines of pain.

"If you don't shut up, I'll be killing you two instead, never mind Jaemin." You snapped. "Love is what I feel when I score a cracker from the halfway line. Seeing Jaemin makes me want to jump out of the nearest window."

"Are you sure it's not just unresolved sexual tension? I, too get antsy when I haven't jacked off—"

"Finish that sentence and you'll have no arms."

"I'm flexible enough to suck myself off." Yangyang mused, "You'll never stop my libido."

"You're disgusting." You and Donghyuck said in sync, swatting his grabby hands from flying at your shoulders. Quite frankly, you didn't want to hear about his freakishly boneless limbs, or his untameable sex drive, nor hear anything about his genitals at all.

"Does that count as self—"

"Yes, it does. Please don't be telling people that I'm your friend, or that you can do that. It's not a little icebreaker."

Friendship with these two had crossed all sorts of personal boundaries you didn't know existed, and it was starting to decompose you, like a rotting piece of cabbage infested by slugs, yet still hanging on for the glimpse of sunlight to regenerate.

Okay, so you were being dramatic. But, that didn't explain their dire need to over share certain aspects of their lives with you.

"Doesn't change the topic at hand —Did you get my pun?" He asked, looking for Donghyuck's reaction.

"I did. Not going to comment on it before she breaks my arms. Just know I enjoyed it very much."

"If I wanted to mess around with Jaemin, I'd put my hand in a beehive. It'd sting less." You snarled, slamming down your books. They winced comically, faces alert as the teacher walked into the class.

Apart from football, you enjoyed learning — how to make things, break things, self defense, people skills, and education fell not too far from that. Classes like biology interested you greatly, which is why you found yourself fully immersed in the process of respiration.

Your mind drifted for a second, thinking back to what he'd said. Was it actually sexual tension? Did you actually bare an emotion other than loathing towards him? Then, you thought of that face and how you'd want to do nothing more than break his pretty little nose—

Yeah. There it was. You were normal after all.

School had come to her daily dreadful end, and you were happily striding into the ladies' changing rooms for football training. Nobody had gotten here yet, luckily.

You glanced over into the full body mirror, tugging at your shorts until they fell just above the bump of your knee, pulling your sock midway at your calf. Lean abs shone underneath the dim light, and you proudly paraded around the room, happy to be alone.

A knock on the door came, and you swung the door open with a feverish excitement. "Who is it?"

"Didn't take me as a bra kinda girl. Was thinking more spandex or a binder." Jaemin seethed, hands on hips, azure jersey hanging off his lithe frame.

"You're insufferable. Why are you here?" You groaned, choosing to ignore his taunt at your breast size. His eyes crinkled into upside down crescents, wandering lower to the dip of your frilly black bra.

"To see my favourite girl, of course." He whistled, eyes still glued to your unmarked expanse of skin. "I think those need a new owner." He pointed towards your chest.

"Preferably one whose face I can stand to look at."

"I'm roaring with laughter." You snarked, voice dripping with sarcasm, making no attempt to cover yourself up. Jaemin was still staring, face flushed a flaming cerise. "You gonna keep staring or are you gonna leave me alone?"

"I'm not staring. Why are you staring at me?" He shot defensively. Your eyes narrowed at him, watching his cheeks darken with every lingering stare.

"You're in the girl's changing room, drooling over two lumps of fat on the body of a girl that you hate. The real inquisition here is your lack of sensibility to stop thirsting after anything with a vagina."

Jaemin stayed silent, eyes boring holes into your full lips, tongue instinctively darting out to wet his own nimble, chapped ones. Rolling your eyes, you lead him to the door, hand clasped against the door handle.

Then, you heard loud footsteps approaching the room, incoherent rambling increasing in clarity. You began to conjure up a plan, wondering how on Earth you'd be able to kick Jaemin out without the girls knowing.

With the shouts of the team gradually getting closer, you panicked, chucking Jaemin into a locker.

"Fine, I'll leave! Lemme out!" He squirmed, trying to come out of the metal confines.

"You can't leave now, they're literally outside. Do you want to be stomped to death by Nike Mercurials?" You hissed, closing the door over, much to his protests.

"Don't wanna die with the last image being your breasts."

"If you survive this, I'll gladly provide you a new image."

He shut up at that, and you straightened, reaching for your jersey in a false calmness. The girls burst in, squeals of various greetings being thrown across the room.

You smiled gently at them, encouraging them to get changed, joining in to laugh at their jokes. The topic kept shifting from manicures to new boots before finally settling on Na Jaemin.

"Cap'n, what's going on with you and Jaemin?" One of the girls asked, batting her eyelashes softly. "A boy on the football team told me that you guys are dating."

Dating..that devil? A sin punishable by death! You repelled all instinct to shudder in disgust, instead choosing to maintain a neutral expression.

"I am absolutely not dating Na Jaemin. He's a despicable little mongrel and I'd rather eat my shoe—"

"Mon bébé chérie, why do you curse me like this?" Jaemin squeezed from the locker, voice like a wounded puppy.

"Did you hear that? I think it was—"

"No! It's my Jaemin impression. Isn't it so good?" You spluttered, voice rising in volume. You were sure that your face was a painful beetroot, breathing crazily as you over-exerted yourself.

"Cap'n, it was so good I almost thought Jaemin was in here with us!" She gushed, hands clasped. "You guys would be so cute together. Even if you don't like him, I think he most definitely has feelings for you."

The rest of the girls joined in at this, shouts of 'you should take a chance!' resounding in the hollow room. You'd already ruled out that as a possibility, chalking it down to his uncontrollable thirst for being a pest. Na Jaemin was your rival, the utter bane of your existence, a rodent that fed on robbing your spirits dry of any positivity.

"He'll get a chance when pigs fly." You muttered, noticing their eyes staring at you inquisitively, as if they knew something you didn't. Awkwardly, you smiled at the girls, ushering them towards the door, scanning the hallway after the last one had skipped out.

Jaemin untangled himself from the locker, straightening his limbs, pulling at his calves in a stretch. You peered over your shoulder, frown deepening at him.

"Did you mean what you said?" Jaemin breathed, walking into your personal bubble. He was way too close. His breath tickled your forehead, eyes dark with something you couldn't decipher.

He felt his heart pound against his chest, resisting the urge to pick the stray hair in your eye to the side. You were looking at him with a confused expression, nose scrunched, eyebrows furrowed. You were going to be the death of him. Devastated, he broke eye contact, feeling all forms of fight seep from his bones.

"You don't like me." You whispered, wincing at the wobble in your voice. "Everyone's just saying that....right?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"No. I want you to say no."

"I can't do that."

"Well, you have to say no. I don't want to hear the rest of your sentence — keep us as just this." You softly yelled, pointing between the pair of you. "Don't change anything."

"Okay. I'll leave, but only because you want me to. But, before I go..you've gotta start being more observant." He sighed, ruffling your hair before making his way out.

"I’m plenty observant. Wouldn’t be a good player if I wasn’t.”

"I’ll see it when I believe it. Oh, and the thing you said about pigs flying..”

“What about it?”

“Renjun’s working on it.”

You laughed heartily, locking the door behind you. So, Jaemin did in fact think of you as his Aphrodite — all those nicknames were genuinely created out of affections. 'Mon bébé chérie' held a lot more emotional weight than it did twenty minutes ago, and you had to breathe before your eyes prickled with saltine tears.

Fresh air hit you like a loaded delivery truck, Mother Nature delicately wiping the tears from your eyes, shaking you with a cold flourish, roaring your cheeks to life. The team had already started their warm-up drills, as opposed to the boys' football team who were cooling down from their jog.

You ran over, tightening your ponytail, shifting into 'Captain' mode. The coach pushed you into the circle, encouraging you to take the reins. "Team, we've been doing nothing but straight work. Let's make this session count before the match tomorrow." You shouted, feeling that familiar rush of adrenaline.

The team chanted back, settling into their positions for the first drill — a penalty shoot out. You stepped to the ball, striding back to gain a better angle, socks hugging your knees.

Giving yourself a five second countdown, you charged at the ball, foot pointed, kicking it with a passion that rivalled Lionel Messi. It rolled in the back of the net, flying past Hyejoo, who could barely even process it.

"Still got those fire feet, I see, Cap'n!"

"Lady Luck gave them to me for a reason." You boasted, smugness slapped all over your face.

From the corner of your eye, Jaemin snickered, winking at you when you turned to make eye contact. At least he had the audacity to keep up appearances in front of everyone, even if you had probably made everything awkward.

"My granny could kick better than that, babes!" He boomed from across the pitch, teasing smirk on his lips.

"Your granny lives in a retirement home and still calls on you 'Nana Banana'..it's not very nice to lie." You retorted, eyes narrowed, nearing his hunched form.

"Doesn't mean she can't kick your ass. Granny was a little Aguero back in the day."

"She can't if I'm the Manè, can she?"

"But I'm a Modric. I'll beat your ass, any day, any time." He grinned, leaning in to you. "In any way you want."

You heard blood pumping in your ears, your cheeks filling with immense heat. He grabbed your cheeks softly, grinning even wider when you flushed even warmer, a human sauna. Pushing a lock out of your eyes, he searched your eyes for any sense of rage, face softening at your lack of that emotion.

"Any..way..I want?" You mouthed silently, innuendo catching your attention again as you mulled over the words. "Na Jaemin, you're a dirty boy."

"I think you're the dirty girl." He hummed, saying the next sentence in an octave that made your head spin, quietly enough that only the two of you could hear. "Sauntering around in your little Victoria's Secret bra, cozying up to me without even batting an eyelash or covering up."

"These boobs are mine. I'm allowed to show them to anyone I want."

"So you admit to showing them to me? You admit that you were trying to put on a show for me?" He pressed, purposely craning his neck over you.

"I was trying to change. If you didn't come into the room like a little pervert, you'd never have gotten a visual of these."

"And yet I know how they look now. There's nothing that can erase that image."

"Fuck you, Na Jaemin."

"I think you meant to say fuck me, but I'll allow the slip-up just because I'm so nice." You squirmed under his predatory gaze, heat in your cheeks akin to a fever. "Better get back to training, Cap. Your team's got a match tomorrow."

You hissed at him weakly, choosing to walk away from his provocation, going back to the team, who were all smiling at you with a glint in their eye. By the looks on their faces, they'd definitely taken that exchange as a form of flirting.

Not that you were disputing it, of course.

The coach rounded the girls up, calling them to grab bibs. You relaxed, running over to take the last bib once you'd calmed down. Na Jaemin was a little toe-sucking, filthy mongrel who only knew how to charm his way out of everything — totally not your ideal type or anything.

His penance for being blunt coupled with that honeyed voice was what was throwing you off. Not your physical attraction to him. At least, you hoped so.

The shrill shriek of the whistle behind you shook you out of your mind, bringing your attention back to the practice game. With every shot at the goal, you could see Jaemin taunting you, making kissy faces.

After the first half, you weren't sure if it was real or if you were hallucinating — almost like a mirage, he was wearing that stupid little smirk and there was nothing more you wanted than to slap those lips clean off his face.

Soon enough, you clocked that it wasn't just an illusion, as he'd shifted to the opposite end of the pitch, the other boys from the football team watching from the stands.

They'd started jeering at every pass, exaggerating their reactions, commentary toeing the border of sexual harassment. You volleyed the ball on your foot, battering it into the stands, grinning widely as it hit one of the boys in the face, leaving his nose lopsided.

"If you're gonna be a sexist piece of shit, just fuck off. My team doesn't deserve to hear your brain-dead commentary, nor see your fuck face." You smiled, bite in your voice. "Kindly take the opinion that nobody asked for and shove it up your ass."

Jaemin's eyes twinkled with respect, breath caught in his throat at the dark look in your eyes. He felt his chest warm in adoration, heart doubling in size. "You heard the lady."

"Includes you too, Jaemin. Better get home before Granny Na starts missing her little boy."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Fuck off." You said playfully, recovering the ball. He waved you bye, lugging his bag over his shoulder, fixing the collar of his jersey. A beam touched your lips, face lighting up.

Jaemin smirked back at you, taking his leave. He dragged the remnants away with him, leaving the girl's football team alone in the cooling dwindle of Autumn light.

"Nice shorts." A tug.

"Oh? Na Jaemin complimenting me?" You mused in surprise, arms folded across your chest.

"You didn't let me finish." Jaemin whispered, standing on the sidelines of the pitch, pulling at the hem of your shorts. "Ooh, I can see your stubble. Better bring out the razor."

Your jaw tightened, feeling that rush of annoyance fill your veins again. The nerve.

"More stubble than you'll ever grow on that chin."

"At least I'm not a human Sasquatch."

"I've got hair in the right places—" You started, catching the innuendo, glaring at Jaemin's raised eyebrows. "—I know what I meant. Don't be such a dirty boy."

"Say it again. Love the way it rolls off your tongue."

You gaped at him, whole body blowing a fuse, skin reddening at his tone. Sweltering heat danced atop each fingertip, each muscle, making you jolt. His gaze was still glued to your face, relishing the quickly dilating pupils in your eyes.

"I—"

"—Would rather have you speechless after our first time, not for your championship final. When you win, I'll buy you fucking adorable ice cream with the little star sprinkles that you like."

"Going to ignore you on that first statement, but the second one sounds like a motive."

"Win the match, and I'll ask you out. Properly."

You saw his eyes flash with something passionate, flakes of gooey molasses swirling behind the irises. Before you opened your mouth to reply to him, he pleaded silently for you to just take it as it was. "Gimme a chance. Who knows you better than your enemy? Nobody."

"I mean..."

"Only you know that my grandma calls me those corny names or that I see her all the time."

"Or that you lose every game that's not football because you're too lazy to pay attention." You added.

"And I know that you broke a guy's jaw because he was bothering Yangyang." He continued. "And I also know that you know one thing I've never told anyone."

"Ooh, what's that?"

"That I like you."

You looked away from him sheepishly, goosebumps popping up on your skin, and whether it was from the cold or from his words, you didn't know. He was looking down at you tenderly, ruffling your bed of hair, pressing a small, wet kiss to your forehead as the whistle blew.

"Don't play with fire, Na."

"You're more like a carpet burn."

You sighed, defeated. "Fine. I'll give you an answer when we win. If you're playing me, I'll break your arms."

"Okay. Go get 'em, Lady Luck." He smiled, waving you off as you scurried onto the pitch, face glowing under the fluorescent lights. Jaemin felt his chest tighten with pride, jaw aching from all the strenuous smiling.

With that absurdly contented face, you reminded him of a cross between a kid at a carnival and a man about to kill another. Your hair gathered wildly atop your head, a wicked glare painting your face.

This was you at peace, he deduced. Even with the gruesome of expressions, you looked calm. The pitch was truly your home away from home.

Two minutes into the second half saw you being carried off on a stretcher with a torn hamstring. You'd fallen to the grass, no sounds coming from your limp body. Jaemin swore he felt his heart plunge into his ass, and with a frantic flourish, he was coddling your head into his chest.

"Luck, don't die on me. I'm supposed to take you out for ice cream after this, and I stole Renjun's Baskin Robbins loyalty card to cut costs so if we don't go, I'll be getting beat up without having kissed your stupid face." He babbled, slapping your cheeks, scared that you'd genuinely lost your life.

You groaned, rolling slowly in the elastic. "Stop touching my face, I'll get acne." Mildly concussed, you soothed your throbbing headache, registering Jaemin's face looming over you. "Jaemin?"

"Oh, thank God. Thought I'd never see that unruly sparkle in your eyes again."

"Fuck off. My hamstring feels like a fried chicken mukbang and you're talking about my eyes."

"I can't cry before our first date. You'll think I'm a wimp."

"Already think that."

He hit your arm lightly, beaming at your focus on his face, meeting your eyes. You were glaring at him with a kissable pout on your lips, eyebrows furrowed — he wanted to pepper your face in balmy kisses.

The paramedic pushed him away, leading you to the ambulance. You flipped him off, yelling loudly as they wheeled you in, "Make sure you win! Won't forgive you if you don't."

The girl's football team had gathered around the door, all tight-lipped smiles and crumpled faces. They visibly brightened at your declaration, huddling together to recalibrate — the ref blew her whistle to call them back, summoning them back into position.

Yangyang and Donghyuck left the stands, rushing into the ambulance alongside you, closing the door behind them. Jaemin could faintly hear your loud curses, and sighed in relief, knowing that you'd be fine.

With two goals up, the team were at optimum working speed, playing loyally for your honour. Jaemin stood at the sidelines, holding your jacket in his hands as he recorded the match on his phone, wanting to send it to you later.

At 90 minutes, the girl's team had become the winner of the Division One Seoul Inter-district championship, and Jaemin was content. Not because it meant you'd go on that date with him, but because he could feel how much it meant to them.

Everyone around him was cheering madly, chanting and spraying assorted drinks in each other's faces, an infectious joy lingering in his veins. Amongst all the commotion, he'd somehow been pushed into the middle of the team, feeling their gazes boring into his frame.

"You like Cap'n, right?" The brunette said, eyes bright.

"No. I don't like her. She's my rival." Jaemin lied pathetically, trying to escape their judgement.

"Why were you in the locker room then?"

"Damn. How do you know that?"

"Cap'n is horrible at lying, so she's always upfront. She also cannot do an impression so she never attempts it."

"Wow, you guys sure know your stuff. Bet she's glad to have a team like you. I know I'm feeling a little jealous."

"Cut the smooth talk. If you like Cap'n, just be straightforward. She's more innocent than she seems, and can get her heart broken easily."

"Got it." He nodded, "Well...ladies, I have to thank you for the advice."

"No problem, but if you break her heart.." They chorused, "We'll break that pretty little nose." Fifteen studded feet swung at his face, narrowly skimming the bridge of his nose.

He flinched, caught off guard, grin bared. "Now, I definitely got that message. I'll be going to check up on her, what do you want me to say?"

"We've already called her and shown her the trophy, so we have nothing left to say, you, however...take all the time you need."

"Since I have your blessing, am I allowed to—"

"Don't finish that sentence. Keep in your lane."

Jaemin promptly closed his mouth, and bid them a goodbye, dashing into his car towards the hospital, stopping at Baskin Robbins to buy the ice cream he promised. He hoped you’d at least be able to eat the sprinkles (the ones you liked were expensive, and if you didn’t eat them, he’d just wasted an extra 2,500 won.)

In the hospital, you were now dressed in a medical gown, surrounded by the two idiots. It smelt like an experiment lab, and the spotless shades of ivory splashed on the walls made you feel a tad bit overwhelmed.

Your leg had already undergone the MRSI scan, and the nurses had told you that you’d definitely tore your hamstring, but surgery would fix it right up along with natural healing.

Of course, all those details lacked in comparison to your team finally winning the trophy you’d worked so hard towards — that excitement numbed the pain considerably.

“We thought you’d somehow died.” Yangyang confessed, grasping your hands in his clammy ones.

“You did.” Donghyuck sneered, pointing at him, continuing when he saw your face change in confusion. “Yang was convinced that you were invincible like Superman or something. He started blubbering about how you could definitely defeat the grim reaper in close contact and that should be enough to steal back your soul or whatever—”

“I’m just never going to ask questions again.”

“Jaemin was on the verge of a breakdown when he saw you fall. Never have I ever seen him run so fast towards a girl.” Donghyuck said, hand on chin in mock thought.

You blushed, remembering your promise about the ice cream and falling back into the bed in distress.

“What’s going on with you? I saw you two all friendly at the sidelines.” Yangyang murmured, eyes squinting in judgement. “Don’t tell me...you guys fucked before the game?”

Suddenly it was too hot in the room. You fanned yourself to cool down, slapping your own cheeks before pulling Yangyang’s ears. “Yeah, because I have the guts to just have my first time in a school setting.” You deadpanned.

“Naughty girl.” Both boys swooned, unable to note your sarcasm.

“Just because my leg is gone doesn’t mean I can’t harm you anymore. I’ll break your kneecaps.”

In the midst of your fight with your best friends, you spotted Jaemin opening the door, wearing that greasy smirk that made butterflies tickle your throat.

“I see a broken leg isn’t enough to stop you, is it?” Jaemin drawled from the door, hands behind his back. “Still threatening people?”

“It’s not threatening if they deserve it.” You mumbled, suddenly shy. Jaemin maintained his distance from you, arm outstretched, ice cream tub in hand. He was looking away from you, faint blush tinting his cheeks, lips squeezed in a puffy ‘o’.

“Not that I remembered or anything, but you did say something about liking these sprinkles.” He said, eyes darting around to focus on anything but you.

“I do...like these sprinkles..how did you know?”

“Everyone calls you star, and you’re cute. It’s your personality in an edible sugar shape.”

You rolled your eyes at his words, forgetting both Donghyuck and Yangyang were seated in the room. It felt like the two of you were just stuck in your own world, glaring at each other like a pair of lovers.

Unfortunately, that moment was cut short by your ungracious best friends, cooing annoyingly. They were squealing like little girls, incomprehensible screams of ‘our girl’s grown up!’ scraping your eardrums.

“Leave me alone!” You whined, face scrunched in discomfort, making futile attempts to push them away. “Jaemin...please get these two off me.”

“Asking your boyfriend to get rid of us? Already?” Yangyang hollered, one of Jaemin’s arms stopping him from jumping on you again.

“He’s not my boyfriend. As of now, he’s the only sensible one who isn’t mauling the girl with a broken leg, and that’s why I’m asking him for help.”

“Should I throw them out?”

“Yes —actually, do whatever. Let them go terrorise someone that isn’t me.”

“Your wish is my command.”

On that, Jaemin escorted both boys outside, shutting the door on them, cutting off the beginning to their long-winded rant with a smile. That left the two of you alone.

Oddly enough, the silence wasn’t stifling but rather a conversation of the mind — you were able to see what he wanted to say by looking into those mocha coloured eyes. You threw the ice cream tub in the bin, reaching for Jaemin’s hands shyly.

He’d sat down beside you on the bed, just staring at you like you were an abstract painting, a mosaic of a splendid array, unable to take his eyes off you. He took your hand warmly, running his fingers over your calloused knuckles, sharing his heat with you.

“Jaemin.” You yawned, head falling onto his shoulder. “I’m saying yes to your date. If I didn’t get injured, you could’ve taken me out today, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry. Being with you is enough for me, even if I do want to comment on your horrible tackles during the match.” Jaemin teased, grabbing your hand a little tighter.

“Haha...I’m dying of laughter.”

“Hey! None of that here.”

“Sorry. I’m just happy. My team won our first championship, which we’ve been trying to do for three years, and I feel on top of the world. All those years of boys being absolute dickheads to us about our abilities, trying to put us down have amounted to this moment. I’m at peace right now.”

“Don’t apologise. I should be sorry instead. It was easier to talk to you if I pretended I hated you. I shouldn’t have been like that.”

“I accept your apology. But..I think it was cute you couldn’t tell me you liked me! That’s so endearing.”

“Fuck off.”

“That’s my line! Well, you were always attractive to me, even when you were being a dickhead. Now that I think about it, you’re at your hottest when you’re being mean.”

“Is that so?” Jaemin mused, rolling onto his hands, dangling over you, lips eerily close to your own. “Do you want me to treat you mean, keep you keen?”

“Firstly, don’t ever say that again.” You stopped him, hand placed on his chest to push him away lightly. “Secondly, I’ve never had a boyfriend or my first kiss. That means no experience.” You slurred that last part, rushing the words so he wouldn’t be able to hear.

“Cap’n, you’re telling me that I’ll be your first?”

“Not if you don’t ask me out.”

Jaemin sat back beside you, looking up to the ceiling. This was the moment. He took a deep breath, standing up before you, hands rubbing his stomach softly to calm down.

“I wanted to do a real dramatic confession, but I rushed over here in fear that you wouldn’t be able to hit me again, so I’ll have to stick with my speech.” He cheesed, trying to ease himself of his nerves. You laughed, hissing in mock anger when he wore that stupid grin. “I like you. Like a lot. Sometimes, I come to school with a dirty scowl on my face, but then I see your face and start smiling like a love struck fool. You’re someone that I wouldn’t want to lose.”

“Jaemin, you little mongrel. Come here.” You waved him over, arms outstretched in a hug. “Even though I know your ego won’t let you ask me out properly, I would love to be your girlfriend. However, if my heart is broken..I’ll be stoning your car.”

“Thought you were gonna say that you’d break my face.”

“That too.”

He snuggled closer into you, peering up at you with shining eyes, not wanting to move too much to keep you comfortable. You grinned back at him, placing a soft kiss on his head, running a hand through his hair.

That familiar silence returned, and that’s how you fell asleep with Na Jaemin enveloped in your chest. Although you’d broken a leg, Lady Luck seemed to have twiddled her fingers to send you a ‘get well soon’ present, the ever cunning Na Jaemin.

Five months later had you no longer hobbling around on crutches like a hobbit, but walking proud and tall. Jaemin drove you to school (using the excuse of carpooling) and helped you take your books to first period everyday — the alpha male in him winced seeing you attempt any ‘heavy lifting’, and he’d made it a routine.

“Can you fuck off? I can carry this.” You complained, pinching his side. “Just because I see a physio biweekly doesn’t mean I’m about as able-bodied as a monkey.”

“Got the hair to be a monkey.” He snorted.

“Look who’s talking, Mr.Sasquatch. Bigger feet than his prints, you little scoundrel.”

“Big feet means big—”

“Don’t finish that if you wanna keep the body part in question.”

“—heart. Dirty girl.”

You felt the honey pooling in your stomach, kissing his cheek in haste to escape his relentless teasing. He shut up at that, pulling you back to kiss you properly, attracting the attention of everyone in the hallway.

“Get to class.” He announced as he parted from you, enjoying your petulant face. You hit him softly, flipping him off from behind you, blowing him a kiss.

Ah, Na Jaemin. You still hated him. Just a little less this time.

[bigbrotherlouis]

i’m obsessed with joel farabee and morgan frost and you should be too: a primer

hello! welcome! recently i have become infatuated with morgan frost and joel farabee for a lot of reasons but mostly because of that one post that i spent like twenty minutes searching various blogs for that said “people are freaking out about sexualising hockey players, meanwhile joel farabee is one instagram comment away from telling morgan frost he’d suck him dry.” in my head rent free. hit a girl up if you have the post.

anyway! frosty and beezy:

[hard cut to me whispering “oh my god even their nUMBERS are friends” i’m fine.]

this is more like about vibes and less about facts, so you can google if you want to know more about their, like, bios and stats and stuff that’s not 99% rpf or conjecture. this primer is just the things that make me scream. however, that being said, they do play well on a line together and both are very good players.

joel farabee is american, from new york i believe but his dad is from philly, and falls neatly into the category of BORN TO BE A FLYER. longtime fan, hugely excited to play for the team, brings it up all the time.

morgan frost, from ontario canada, was not.

a real, actual tweet. he tweeted this with his WHOLE chest and then joined the flyers like three years later. i adore it. another real actual tweet i adore:

sweet, sweet joel. he misses his buddies :( no doubt including morgan because they are, by all appearances, obsessed with each other. i’m trying not to keep  using the word obsessed in this primer but it’s hard because they are. morgan’s a year older, a first round draft pick in 2017 and joel’s a first round pick in 2018, but they didn’t start playing together until 2019, i believe, because joel played for a college team in boston. side note: he also captained team usa and wore a number 28 in honour of claude giroux and i am absolutely not okay about it.

e! mo! tion! al! incidentally, frosty wears danny briere’s number when he plays for the flyers, which. take from that what you will. iykyk. their NUMBERS are FRIENDS. HERITAGE SOULMATES. joel’s been called up to play on the flyers (and did really well in the playoffs!) but we’re still waitin’ for morgan to come along too but the coaching staff hasn’t recognised the raw power of true love yet so.

at this point, you’re probably saying “sasha shut up about their fucking numbers and talk about why they’re obsessed with each other” but good news! i do not need to do that because the official flyers media has done that for me! (x) i’d recommend watching it because it’s a lot packed into a neat 100 seconds, but notable moments include the voice over saying “joel farabee and morgan frost have found that going at it together has its benefits” within the first thirty seconds. that is a real direct quote. i can’t believe it either. there’s also a lot of light homoerotic bonding over playing chel, them sitting across from each other  on their beds, the admission of being ROOMMATES (oh my god they were roommates), this shot of them sitting with their mouths wide open on either side of their dad,

and also joel wearing a hat with a canadian maple leaf on it, despite being from the the united states. wonder where he got that from. please watch the video.

when they’re not playing chel or, you know, going at it together, they’re being horny in each other’s instagram comments. there’s honestly.... so many of these that i can include but we’re just gonna go with my favourites.

when i say i think about this comment on a picture of morgan with isaac ratcliffe, a fellow flyers prospect on a daily basis, i mean it. i’ll be just doing my thing, minding my own business, and MORGAN MAKES ME VENMO HIM JUST TO TALK will pop into my head, completely uninvited. king shit for morgan to do and king shit for joel to admit on social media for the world to see, but joel admitting things he maybe shouldn’t is a running theme. 

cool. TOTALLY not flirting or anything.

joel. also both their exhibitionist streaks should be explored in fic more i am JUST sayin.

ok but bee you were lookin. like you can chirp but you were lookin, don’t lie. 

when ur in love with ur roommate but ur both hockey players so u can only communicate that love via chirping when he’s with the boys :(

what’s it called when you vibe really well with someone and also live with them and also comment on their shirtlessness and also maybe kiss them on the mouth a little? d... da... dating?? can’t be it.

morgan is a little more composed in the comments and mostly just posts inside jokes i cannot comprehend, or compliments. it’s still cute.

this was on a playoffs pic where joel’s wearing #28 love 2 see it love a supportive boyf always

this one was of joel with a fish he caught and i’m sorry but i did not want it on my phone.

but morgan can’t hide his affection for long. (me, in the distance: TWENTY EIGHT TWENTY EIGHT TWENTY EIGHT!!!!!!!)

there’s more comments but they’re boring and this is long, mostly joel chirping  morgan for wearing baseball or football stuff. however! they are also on twitter where they keep each other humble after incredible goals, like bros do,

this is DEFINITELY flirting. like, blatant. it’s like that kind of flirting when you’re thirteen and you don’t know what to do with your body so you just kinda steal your crush’s stuff or insult them because all attention is good attention, right??

but when push comes to shove, beezy is always gonna look out for his boy (because they are in love):

some important pictures of them together, for your pleasure: 

this is so DUMB and i love it

friends supporting friends!!!

this is them meeting their hockey dads :) so cute :) joel is promising g that he’ll have morgan back by ten yessir he will be respectful of boundaries and curfew. jake is high fiving morgan on getting some. this is facts i just call em like i see em.

and finally!

is this allowed?????  is this allowed???? it’s hard to tell but i’m pretty sure that’s joel on his knees for in front of morgan and i just??? how is that allowed???? it’s been five days and this picture has RUINED me. someone write me an essay to have on my desk by morning, stat.

also v unrelated but here is a video of morgan frost reading, proving he’s the smart one in the relationship. that’s not saying much but, hey! at least there’s proof he can read.

obviously different ships capture people in different ways but there’s something about them to me, personally, that is just so captivating. there’s a lot of potential for different fic vibes, and joel in particular always has a really fun voice to read (and also to write). they definitely have chemistry, they’re pitted against each other so there’s a good-natured rivalry going on, CLOTHES SHARING AND HERITAGE SOULMATE NUMBERS, and, like, they just genuinely seem to enjoy each other. someone PLEASE write more fic for them or by god i’ll have to do it myself.

ok that’s everything for now, i believe. they’re in love and don’t care who knows it and i’m obsessed. (however, i’m also obsessed with joel farabee and andrei svechnikov together, for which i have a one-picture argument for here.)

(p.s. anything not linked i screenshotted myself thank youuu for reading have a good day and remember: morgan makes joel vemno him just to talk 😌)

edit: hello. i wrote this on election night as a way to take off the edge of my nerves and it is not as funny or screechy as i wanted it to be so i’m going to add some now.  

[ohsnapcracklepopfriends]

To be named GGMU fic: Part two - A Derby to be Forgotten

Here it is my dear friends. This fic still feels blasphemous to write but I'm doing it anyway. I'm getting on a plane in four hours and I'm scared out of my mind but I finished this part so everything's fine! Here's part one if you haven't read it!

Jamie slammed his phone down on the table of the bar as he collapsed into the booth opposite his oldest friend. He let his head drop and it slammed, with more force than Jamie expected, into the table. Fuck. It had been such a long day. Jamie couldn’t even bring himself to lift his head up out of the indent he was sure his skull made on the table. He felt a bony finger jab the sore muscles of his shoulder.

“Jamie,” another jab, “Jamie, mate. You alright?” Jamie groaned and lifted his head slightly to peek at Stevie. Jamie didn’t know why Stevie would even ask him that question when he so clearly knew the answer. When Jamie saw the dazed, twitchy, beer-soaked look in his eyes, he found his explanation.

“Course I’m not fucking alright. Everything sucks. I hate football. I hate United. I hate Manchester. I hate television--” Jamie felt drunk and he’d only had one, two, three--oh, definitely too many pints. Jamie couldn’t blame himself for the nightmarish morning he would surely have. No, he was driven to drink. For starters, there were few things Jamie liked less than losing. When you retire, watching your team lose gets so much worse, because that’s all you can do: watch. There’s nothing you can do to turn things around, to steer things in the right direction; you have to watch as the team you love more than the air you breathe goes down in flames. Looking over at Stevie, Jamie thought he too was having trouble adjusting to his new role: that of a fan, not a player.

To make matters worse, it was the Northwest Derby. Jamie hated Northwest Derbies: he hated them to the very core of his being. Sure there’s a thrill to it: the chance to beat your bitter rivals is inviting, but it never seemed to work out that way for Jamie. It certainly didn’t pan out that way in his playing days that often. Northwest Derbies were a reminder of broken ribs, harsh words, own goals, and most of all the bitter sting of defeat. And despite all of that, he would’ve chosen to be a player losing again over a day like this one.

Jamie was in an unfortunate situation. He found himself somehow entirely smitten with his obnoxiously unprofessional, Mancunian, united-till-I-die co-pundit. Gary had apparently thought it was a great idea to do victory laps around the studio right before they went on air. When they went live Gary was sat across from him at the table, a smug smirk on his face and panting slightly. Jamie tried not to think about that night, that first night that Gary had burst into his hotel room, but ultimately failed. He could almost feel Gary’s hot breath whispering across his nose and cheeks as they embraced. He could almost taste the sweet, artificial fruit of Gary’s mouth when he pulled Jamie into a closet for a pre-match snog: it was a great way to release some energy. Jamie spent the rest of the show stumbling along as he tried to get the image of Gary flustered, panting, and thoroughly kissed out of his brain.

On top of all of that catastrophe, Gary managed to make things worse in the dressing room after. He practically floated into the room, something Jamie would have found attractive if he hadn’t known the context. If Jamie was honest with himself he found it attractive even in context but in the way that made Jamie want to pull his hair and push him to his knees rather than wrap him in his arms and kiss him. He hummed softly across the dressing room as he unbuttoned his shirt, doing Jamie’s job for him.

“Glory Glory Man United,” Gary sang just once to make sure Jamie knew before he went back to humming. Not that it would have been easy to ignore otherwise. He looked over at Gary expecting to see him searching for Jamie’s reaction: Jamie wanted to show his neutral face, to let Gary know he couldn’t be manipulated. Except that he could, so, so easily. Gary was looking at him for a reaction as expected. Jamie did not expect Gary to be wearing an old United shirt, Neville proudly written on the back. Yet another reminder to Jamie that the man he had not chosen but had come anyway to love (yes he said it, Gary might have been in denial but Jamie Carragher was not an idiot or a coward) was so different from himself in the ways that matter both the most and the least.

“What’d Neville do this time, mate?” Even Drunk Stevie seemed to know how smitten Jamie was and Drunk Stevie was an idiot. Jamie had videos on his phone to categorically prove that. Jamie loved one in particular of Drunk Stevie trying to strip off his shirt, instead getting the fabric stuck around his head and laughing so hard he fell into a lamp post. But that's another story. Jamie took another sip from his beer. Given the amount of beer left in his pint, it seemed that he’d taken a lot of sips while lost in thought.

“He won’t stop singing that fucking song, Stevie. It makes me want to throw him off a bridge every time.” Stevie nodded solemnly. Jamie appreciated Stevie’s humouring him and decided to continue. It wasn’t like he had many other outlets he could rant to about his infuriating, Mancunian coworker. “He’s such a stubborn idiot, Stevie. I mean, God, he’s so dense. We fucking fuck every other fucking day and every time he fucking comes up with some fucking shit excuse and fucking runs out like a fucking coward. He’s fucking stubborn that’s what he is. He’s so stubborn. It’s against his fucking principle or something to hang out with a fucking scouser. Mate! He wouldn’t eat the fucking cereal, Stevie! I bought fucking Weetabix--Weetabix! I bought it just for him and he doesn’t have the fucking decency to fucking stick around to fucking eat it!” Jamie gasped for breath as he finished his sentences and chased his breath with a large gulp of beer. Stevie grabbed his hand and pulled the pint out of his now loose fingers.

“Think we should call it a night, eh, Carra?” Stevie went to get up and slid down into the booth further. “I think I’ll call Alex.” Jamie grunted. Even in his swirly, tired mind, it seemed like a good idea. Jamie melted down onto the table and for the second time on the night, his cheek was smushed against the cold wood.

“I just love ‘im, Stevie. I don’t want to. I just do. I love him sooooooo much,” Jamie was really slurring by now. Jamie’s head was spinning and there was a dull throbbing pain in the centre of his skull. They definitely needed to call it a night. Preferably an hour ago, maybe longer.

The next thing Jamie knew he was in the back of a car with his head resting in Stevie’s lap. Stevie looked down at him and ran his fingers through Jamie’s short hair comfortingly. Jamie thought Stevie’s breath didn’t smell nearly as good as Gary’s did.

“I just love ‘im,” Jamie murmured once again. He didn’t even mean to this time; the words just came out. When they left his mouth the words blended together into one mush of a word but Stevie still seemed to understand him. Stevie always understood him.

“I know, mate,” Stevie said, softly, “it’s okay.” And as long as Stevie said so, it was.