#team cap imagine
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❤Steve Rogers Era Part : 3❤
Steve in his uniform🥹😍
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unknownartiste · 1 year ago
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morosexual
(part 2 of this, based on this post)
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jeynearrynofthevale · 4 months ago
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Was listening to 32 Thoughts and a really interesting point about salary negotiations was brought up. If you take a pay cut and sign a “team friendly deal”, that can be seen as screwing other guys in the league over. Because it’s used against them by teams in their negotiations. So, when agents are negotiating deals for their players, there’s not only the component of what is good for the individual player vs the team but also what’s good for the nhlpa, which is a union. Friedman brought up that he actually will sometimes get that same thing brought up when he’s negotiating deals as a broadcaster. Other people in the industry have asked him not to compromise and take lesser deals because that also compresses their potential wages.
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hockeylovee12 · 8 months ago
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One day Luke will receive player of the game after they Win a game.
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flhoarder · 2 years ago
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“Where’s your homo, homey” mate you’re wearing a fishnet wife beater at work can we talk about that first
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gingergari · 1 year ago
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ringo and mimi were due for a revamp + their birthdays just passed! 🥳
(nov 20 and dec 11 respectively)
closeups under the cut :^)
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brokenhardies · 1 year ago
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Jane Smith & Ryan Sinclair Aesthetic
"You stumbled into my life without warning, then you're turning around and swanning off?" "Yeah, that's what we do... Swanning off. I stayed for the funeral, at least!" "...You could at least stay for dinner?"
Taglist
@darth-caillic​ @sterling-writes​ @wonderguards​ @reirvival​ @arrthurpendragon​ @foxesandmagic @eddysocs @superspookyjanelle (want to be added or removed? send an ask or a dm!)
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holtbys-left-eyebrow · 1 year ago
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i am ready to mourn nicklas backstrom’s retirement.
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cloudinterlude · 2 years ago
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Sometimes I wish I never knew as much as I do about CACW so that I never feel the urge to argue every time I see some widely accepted misconception/fanon about it.
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anxsity · 2 years ago
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hi sorry i need everyone to know the lockscreen of Sergei Ovechkin's ipad, son of Alexander Ovechkin, is a pic of him (Sergei) and Aube Kubel. when asked why, Nastya said "I dont know! he's like his guy". ovi wasnt lying, sergei really does adore NAK
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stairset · 2 years ago
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For the sake of having a comparison to get my point across further. Imagine watching an episode of a superhero show where the entire episode isbdedicated to having the hero team up with another superhero, and then calling the other superhero a cameo. That's basically how Star Wars fandom uses the word.
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ballpoint-propaganda · 2 years ago
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LAST REBLOG. SORRY I COMMENTATE ON THINGS ON THIS SITE LIKE TWITTER. BUT YOURE SO RIGHT. THATS WHAT IVE BEEN SAYING. GENUINELY I THINK COROIKA WOULD ACTUALLY BE REALLY GOOD AS AN ANIME IF IT LEANED REALLY HEAVILY INTO THAT KIND OF SHOUNEN SPORTS ANIME TONE. DO YOU KNOW WHAT I AM SAYING
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fighting-these-demons · 3 months ago
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You know.... a baseball AU would fit pretty well for G Gundam. What with the tight pants and extended focusing on asses.
It's basically a Trace Suit.
Just throwing it out there that we all know they'd look great in uniform!
This absolutely isn't an excuse to Shove every one of them into my Comedia Del Anime archetype. Not at all.
👀
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is it ao3 or is it sports media
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yourcutelittlegayfriend · 3 months ago
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Imagine this
I've been reading some of this good fics about Yandere Batfam x neglected Reader and it got me thinking.
In some of this fic, usually it's Alfred that has given the reader some love and have not neglected the poor thing and I was like,
What if Reader is still neglected by the batfam but Alfred gave them enough love so much that reader just decided to stay just for Alfred and Reader really just treated Alfred as their real Father or Grandfather.
Where Reader just let go of any expectation from getting attention from the others and just strive to make Alfred proud and happy.
How the turns have table
Imagine reader walking pass the others not bothering to greet them as they look for Alfred instead and other stuff.
Dick seeing them practically skipping as they clutch on a medal hanging on their neck.
"Woah hey!-...um whatcha got-". He tries to say but doesn't get any answers because you were busy muttering to yourself 'I got first place! I have to show this to Alfred!' as you giggle while looking down at the medal and sprint away when you see a glimpse of the butler at the distance.
How instead of begging for the others to train you and become a vigilante, you ask Alfred to train you for self-defense (especially the stuff from his spy days).
Jason was the first to arrive at the manor when the team heard about some intruders getting in but halted when he sees you tying up the unconscious thugs on the floor.
"Hey Alfred is this right?". You didn't pay them any mind when some of them pile in as you pay attention to Alfred who was praising you and giving you more good defense tips while you and him pull the unconscious people out.
How you spend healthy family time with Alfred by helping him in cooking and chores that earns you some knowledge of the recipes from his famous dishes.
Tim was trying to grab a coffee when he sees you having a fun time with Alfred as you skillfully prepare for dinner and actually have good laughs with him.
"Okay, then after I fold this I should add some paprika, right?". You ask the butler as he smiles at you while sipping on the tea that you made for him.
"Yes, you're correct once again young miss/master". He said while humming after drinking the tea indicating how good it is.
Tim can practically see you lighting up as you cheered a 'yes!' from Alfred's confirmation.
How you revolved your time and passion to Alfred and actually deciding that only Alfred is the one you should waste your time on.
Damian wonders around the manor when you and him bump into one another.
"And what are YOU doing walking around MY Father's manor?". He asks while glaring at you.
you just sigh and turn while clutching away the art supplies you bought so you can paint in the garden with Alfred.
"Walking away from you that's what I'm doing". you tell him as you turn the other way not even bothering to argue with the boy anymore.
How you do well in your studies and aim to get a good degree/phd and act like a proper man/lady but not because you want to keep up to being a Wayne but to see Alfred's proud face as he watches you stand on the stage as you show him your diploma/degree certificate.
Bruce decided to take a walk from sitting down for too long when he walk pass a framed picture on the hallway near Alfred's room and double takes when he sees you and Alfred standing together with while you were wearing a toga and cap holding not just any graduation certificate but a college one as the both of you look so happy and him seeing Alfred having that loving and well pleased expression something he rarely sees from Alfred after becoming the crusading dark knight.
Looking at the date he couldn't believe that it has been more that a few years since the graduation happened.
All of the family who used to ignore you suddenly took a different turn and started to try and get your attention but they fail to see that you already moved on from them and only cared about the one person that have literally loved you from the beginning.
Bonus:
Imagine Thomas and Martha Wayne was mysteriously revived for a day and met the family but was deeply disappointed to the others and took a special liking to reader because Alfred has said many good things about them and them especially getting many good degrees something that the rest haven't gotten yet or never bothered to get (this is my hot take because my family are hellbent on us cousins to finish school) and you know for a fact that Alfred is really REALLY proud of the kid that he raised preciously
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aphelionwrotes11 · 6 months ago
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(MDNI 18+) (unedited)
Trucker!simon x reader (afab)
CW: smut, unprotected PiV penetration, dubcon (slight alcohol consumption, not a lot)
Part 3
Trucker!simon, as puntual as ever, raps his heavy fist against your door at 7pm sharp. You have to take a final look at yourself in the mirror to ensure you still look well groomed.
When you open the door Simon’s huge form takes up nearly the entire doorframe. He’s wearing heavy dark blue jeans, a flannel button up, and a thick leather jacket. He has a bouquet of red and pink roses. You get to enjoy his uncovered smile as you fawn over them.
He lifts them for you to smell, but the only thing you catch of whiff of is his musky cologne, rich and deep. Once you get the roses settled into a vase, Simon walks you to his pickup with a warm hand resting firm on your hip.
When you ask him where he’s taking you, he just glances your way with a smirk,
“You’ll see, lovey.”
You giggle and ask him how much longer it’ll be.
“Wot’s the matter? Just can’t wait much longer for it to be over and be in my bed?”
You gape at him, your face flushing red, and he chuckles. He must notice you squeezing your thighs together, because a moment later he plants his massive hand on your thigh, giving you a gentle squeeze.
By the time you two make it to the restaurant, you’re certain there must be a puddle on his brown leather seats with how much he was squeezing your thigh, teasing his fingers just under the skirt of your dress. Your legs feel like jello as he helps you out of the truck.
The place he’s taken you is a lot prettier than you imagined, cute and atmospheric. You’re a bit shocked that a gruff man like him would know any places like this.
Has a reservation for the two of you, at a table he specifically chose. A private table in the corner, nestled between two large plant covered windows. You gasp at the view, looking out over the well lit street.
When you ask him how he found such a lovely place, he tells you he knows the owner’s husband.
“S’my ol cap’s wife, used to be in the force with em’. Same team. Lovely couple, they’ll like you.”
You listen to him speak, asking him questions about his time in the military. When it’s time to order, you take a final glance at the menu, your brows furrowing. It’s a real nice place, and the prices reflect that.
“You can get whatever you want, lovey.” He says, but you just frown. So he looks up at the waiter and tells him to give you both another minute.
You explain that you’re sorry, everything’s just so expensive, you don’t want to cost him too much. He looks offended and grunts, leaning over to you.
“Money ain’t an issue f’me.”
“I’ll get you anything you want, anything at all, bird.” He says so gently, you’re unsure he’s even talking about food.
By the end of dinner, your belly is full and your cheeks are warm, from him or the glass of wine, you aren’t sure. The two of you talked for hours, and your stomach still hurts from how hard he made you laugh with his ridiculous dad jokes.
You feel giddy as he walks you out to his truck, arm around your shoulder. You nestle yourself into his side, taken in his heat and his smell. The mood shifts once the two of you get into the truck. Suddenly the air is too hot, and you would really love to lose a few layers.
Just like before, he plants his warm palm on the fat of your thigh, massaging his fingers into it. But this time, as his fingers breach the skirt of your dress, they keep inching up until his thumb is pressed up against your clothed sex. You suck in a breath as he applies some pressure to your throbbing clit.
“So wet already, ain’t ya bird?” He whispers, his voice thick.
The only response you can give him is a whine as he shifts his hand till he’s grinding his palm against you. You meet his pace, moving your hips against his hand, grasping his arm as you whimper.
His other hand grips the steering wheel so hard his knuckles are white. He struggles to even keep his eyes on the road, and when he finally glances at you, just to see you looking up at him all needy and flushed, he has to resist pulling over and taking you right here in his truck. Instead he just presses harder on the gas and on your wet pussy.
By the time you’ve made it to his home, you’ve already cum twice. Your gasping and twitching as he jumps from out as soon as he puts the truck into park, speed walking to your side and ripping the door open to smash his lips against yours.
Carries you up the front door, your legs wrapped around his waist. He parts from you only once to unlock his door and take you both inside. He pushes you against the wall, tearing of his jacket as you pull off your own. His hands grab the hem of your dress, you help him pull it over your head. You blush as he pauses for a moment to take in your matching set, red lace bralette and panties.
“This all f’me? So perfect.” He groans. Hand coming up to cup your tit and press a wet kiss to your lace covered chest.
By the time he has you laid out in his bed you’re naked and hot. You claw at his shirt, whining at him to take it off.
He complies without second thought, ripping it off and revealing a muscled, scarred chest. You can’t help how you practically mewl at the sight of him.
He bends down as he’s removing his jeans to press kisses down the expanse of your throat. His mouth finds a nipple, sucking it into his mouth. He licks your chest sloppily, groaning as he sucks hickies on your tits. He stands straight as he pulls off his boxers, revealing a thick cock, the tip an angry red as it leaks precum.
“Look a’ what you do to me love. Never been so hard.” His voice is low and nearly whiny near the end of his sentence.
Spends a real long time stretching you out on his thick fingers. Sucks on your tits and neck the whole time. He’s almost as loud as you, watching you as you squirm beneath him with groans falling from his lips. You cum at least 2 times, but you aren’t sure, your bones feel like jelly and your vision is so blurred from tears you can barely see Simon’s face. If you could see it, you would see how pussy drunk he looks, absolutely love struck.
When he finally lines himself with your entrance, he gently squeezes your hips and presses a few sweet kisses to your mouth.
“You ready bird? Think ya can take some more?” He asks softly.
Yes, yes, please. You tell him. Finally.
Doesn’t waste another moment and finally pushes himself into your slick cunt with a low groan. He presses his face into the crook of your neck, gently thrusting himself into you at first.
“Feel s’good.. so so good.” He mumbles against your skin, halting his movements for a moment.
He lifts himself to his elbows, analyzing your face to ensure you’re comfortable. With your approval he starts moving, fucking you with long and languid thrusts. Pulling his cock all the way out before pushing back in.
After a while of him moving like this, you feel like you’re about to fall apart again. You claw at his back, legs wrapped around his waist as he hits a gooey spot within you that has you clenching on his cock.
“Give it t’me sweetheart, please, I need it.” He says, sounding utterly wrecked.
And once you come on his cock, he loses it. He starts humping himself into you at an ungodly pace, one that has you crying and mewling his name. Every nerve in your body feels like it’s on fire, you can’t even form the words to ask him to slow down, but given the look on his face you aren’t sure if he’d even hear you.
He looks so out of it, practically drunk. His eyes are half lidded and lips parted as he grunts and gasps. His hands hold your hips in a vice grip that you know will leave marks, not like it matters though, he’s already marked all over your chest and throat.
“Been- been waiting to take ya out fer- fu-uck-“ he pauses, his hips snapping against yours, “since I saw ya bird- knew you were mine. All mine.” He growls out.
His eyes nearly roll to the back of his skull as you clench down on his length, he lets out a breathy moan as he slows his movements.
“W-where you want it birdie? Where y’want me to cum?” He gasps out.
Blows his load as soon as you squeak out a quiet “inside.”
He’s growling, gasping and panting, as he pumps his load into you. Keeps thrusting even after he’s cum, pressing his nose into your hair and whining.
Once the two of you have come down, and you finally stop seeing stars, he quickly hops up to get a wet rag and cold glass of water. Cleans the both of you up and urges you to take a few sips, finishes what’s left of the glass once you do.
You practically pass out as soon as he’s got you wrapped up in his warm, burly arms. He stays awake though, petting your hair and gazing at your pretty face. He’s finally got you, and he’s never letting you go.
Note: it was HELL trying to get this done for you guys today :((( my wifi decided to die once I was halfway through with the first part of this fic, which then deleted everything and I had to rewrite EVERYTHINF. That and my poor doggy has been losing his mind over the fireworks going off every ten mins (curse you Fourth of July). It’s fine tho, cuz I think it turned out so cute. Ofc I had to add in the fluffy ending, also please forgive the repetitive word use and unnecessary commas!! I’m planning on coming back and editing this one hardcore, if I end up adding any major things to it I’ll just post the updated version (as well as this one) but this will do for now!! Just wanted to give u guys something to chew on cuz I left you all high and dry with the first part lol
Simon Riley master list
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katsu28 · 6 months ago
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maiden wins & secret meet-ups
pairing: oscar piastri x verstappen!reader
summary: cons of being in a secret relationship—oscar wins his first race, and you can't celebrate with him outright like you want to. (1.9k)
warnings: secret relationship, max’s younger sister but no descriptors of reader so imagine whomever you want!
a/n: oscar piastri grand prix winner sounds like music to my ears <3 better decisions definitely could've been made on mclaren’s end, but still over the moon for oscar!!! 
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You have mixed feelings as Oscar zooms past the checkered flag. 
Your brother is pissed. Max has been furious the entire race, at the car’s capabilities, at the team’s strategies, and more than likely at himself too. He’s hard on himself, but that’s the way you have to be to maintain a razor sharp edge like the one Max has.
You’re a little upset too, what with sibling solidarity and all, but you really have to fight the truly massive smile threatening to overtake your face as you watch the broadcast from Red Bull hospitality. 
It’s not everyday the guy you’ve been secretly seeing for the past five months—your boyfriend, as much as it still feels weird to say that—gets his maiden Formula One win. He’s worked hard, as everyone involved with all the teams has, but you’re biased.
Oscar’s win, although marked with some not so great strategy calls on McLaren’s end, even you could tell, is one for the books. 
You’re buzzing with barely contained excitement, even hours later, itching to find Oscar and pull him aside so you can give him the love he deserves for everything that happened today. 
It seems like Oscar’s thinking of you too, because your phone chimes with a text right then. 
Oscar: Hey, what’re you doing right now? 
You bite your lip to hide the giddy reaction you still get whenever Oscar texts you as you tap out a reply. Nothing. What’s up? 
Oscar: Behind the RB hub. Can you sneak out? 
You: Be right there <3
You look up, glancing around to see if anyone who’d go running straight to Max was around, and gladly coming up empty. You’re glad for it, because you’re not sure you could’ve stopped yourself from hightailing it towards the back exit of the motorhome even if you wanted to. You haven’t seen Oscar after the race yet. There hasn’t been a good time to sneak out and find him. 
Oscar’s pacing back and forth when you emerge, stopping only when he hears the soft click of the door closing behind you. For a moment, all you can do is stare at each other, unmoving.
You can’t help but look him up and down too, because you’re definitely not immune to how sexy your man looks post race.
Race suit tied off around his waist, showing off those snug black fireproofs that cling to his chest and arms just right, messy hair tucked into that special black OP1 cap—you’re not ashamed of your ogling. 
Then he smiles adorably, and now you’re grinning like a maniac too, letting out a gleeful, albeit quiet giggle as you close the gap and throw yourself into his arms. 
He catches you easily, arms winding around your waist as he hugs you tightly. You’ve got your cheek squished against the hard plane of his shoulder, and the zipper of his suit digs into your hip sharply, but you’re so happy for him, so happy that it doesn’t even matter. 
“I’m so proud of you, Osc,” You sigh contentedly. “I narrowly avoided cheering at the top of my lungs in the middle of the hub. Would not have been a good look for me, would it?” 
“Probably not, no,” Oscar laughs, setting you back down on your feet. His arms stay in their place around you, as do yours where they’re looped around his neck.
You take him in fully now, flicking the bill of his new cap playfully. “Nice hat.” 
“You think so?” You nod wholeheartedly and he swipes it off his head, blowing the previously champagne soaked confetti off of it before securing it on your head. It’s a bit sticky and even more sweaty, but the gesture itself makes you beam. Then he leans in to sniff it and makes a weird face. “Yeah, maybe I’ll just get you a new one.” 
“That'd be great, actually. I want you to keep this one to remember your first win—champagne, sweat, and all. But I’ll keep it as collateral until you cough up the clean one.” 
“Deal,” He replies, smiling fondly at you. “D’you have any dinner plans? If not, maybe we can order in, or find a nice restaurant?” 
“A nice restaurant?” You tease, walking your fingers up the sleeves of his fireproof. Muscles pull taut under your fingertips like cords as Oscar shivers at your touch. You’re grinning like the cat that’s got the cream now, always enjoying the reaction you can get out of him every single time, no matter where you are. “Are we celebrating something, or…?” 
Oscar shrugs nonchalantly. “We don’t have to. It could just be a casual dinner, if you want.” 
“Oscar Piastri, you need to learn to be more selfish. Of course we’re celebrating your first win,” You huff, smacking him on the chest lightly. His lips quirk up into a smile again. “You did amazing. Seriously. McLaren is beyond lucky to have you on the track for them.” 
“Thank you,” He murmurs, squeezing your hip tenderly. “It means a lot coming from you.”
You lean in to kiss him, finally, but then—
“Your—erm, your back pocket is buzzing,” Oscar says awkwardly, chin up as he averts his eyes to the sky. You groan, letting your forehead fall against his chest, fishing the offending device out of your pocket again to see your brother’s face filling the screen. 
Max is calling you. You love him to bits, but he always has the absolute worst timing. 
“Hi, Maxie. What’s up?” 
“Where are you?” He demands. 
“I’m great, thanks for asking. Yes, I did enjoy watching you race, thanks for asking,” You encourage, leaning back to shoot Oscar a look as if to say, can you believe this guy? 
“Right, yeah. Sorry. I appreciate you making the trip out to watch. Better?” 
“Much better.” 
“Good. So where are you?” 
“Uh…just getting some air, why?” 
“Outside?” 
“No, in your stinky driver’s room. Yes, I’m outside. Again, why?” You roll your eyes at Oscar, who merely chuckles silently. Max sighs loudly. Dramatically. “Are you alright, Max?” 
“Yeah, fine, fine. Are you free for dinner tonight before you fly back to London in the morning?” He sounds uncharacteristically hopeful, but still a little stiff, like he’s still pissed. He probably is still pissed. 
How are you supposed to tell Max you already have dinner plans with someone else when he knows for a fact you’re not close enough with anyone else in the paddock to get dinner with them, without letting him know who it is? 
The answer is you can’t. 
You look at Oscar hopelessly. 
It’s fine, he mouths, shaking his head. You get the message. He wants you to be there for your brother, even if it means missing out on spending some much overdue time with you. 
“Yes, of course. Anything for my darling big brother,” You say airily. You’ve always loved to push Max’s buttons. 
“You’re not funny, you know that?” Max deadpans. You can almost picture the flat look he’d be giving you if you were in front of him. But then he sounds a little happier when he adds, “I’m almost to the paddock. I’ll meet you outside the team hub as soon as I can.” 
Knowing Max, ‘as soon as I can’ gives you about five minutes to gather yourself. “Okay. I’ll see you soon then. Love you.” Max parrots the same back to you before hanging up. You look back up at your boyfriend, lips pressing into an apologetic smile. “I’m really sorry, Osc. He—you know how Max gets after a frustrating race, I—” 
“It’s alright. Really.” Oscar shakes his head, shrugging. “Family first. He needs you right now, I get it.” 
“We’ll celebrate your win with dinner as soon as we both get back to London, alright? I promise. Maybe I’ll even cook for you.” 
His eyebrows nearly fly into his hairline at that, and he tilts his head, letting out a thoughtful noise. “Maybe I should win more often if it means I get a home cooked meal for it.” 
“Maybe you should. Winning looks good on you anyways.” 
“Does it? I’m still trying to wrap my head around it, believe me. Feels good though, even if it wasn’t exactly smooth sailing.” 
“You did great,” You say firmly, punctuating the fact with a sharp nod. “Own it.”
Oscar blinks a few times, as if he’s digesting the compliment. “Thank you.” 
“Alright, you need to go before Max gets here, because he’ll probably try to fight you if he sees us together.” 
“Your brother likes me.” 
“We’ll talk about why that may or may not be true another time. For now, go.” You give his chest what’s meant to be one last tap before you go. 
Oscar, however, has a different idea. He grabs your hand as you move to pull away, tugging you back towards him and pressing his lips against yours, firm enough to knock the wind out of you, but not hard enough to bruise. 
You’re fully aware that you’re technically in public, where anyone could turn the corner to see the two of you wrapped up in your own little world together. Specifically, any Red Bull employee that would definitely rat you out to Max. It doesn’t really matter to you though, because all that’s running through your mind right now is Oscar, Oscar, Oscar—
He pulls back too soon for your liking, dotting a quick kiss to your cheek before stepping back. “Alright, I’ll be off then.” 
“Real funny, Piastri!” You call after him. He just shoots you a haphazard thumbs up behind his head, though you suspect if he turned around he’d be grinning like a little shit. 
“Don’t forget to hide that hat!” is all he says in response, and then he’s out of sight. 
You slip back into the motorhome through the door you came through, hiding Oscar’s hat until you get to where you’ve stored your bag and stuffing it in as best you can, before hurrying out to wait for Max out front. 
He materializes by your side only seconds after you’ve managed to make yourself a little more put together, startling you with his blunt words. 
“Why do you look like that?” He asks, squinting at you in confusion. 
“Wow, thanks. You look absolutely stunning today too.” You roll your eyes at him, to which he just raises a judgy brow. “Why do I look like what?”
“Like you’ve just been hit over the head with a frying pan.” 
At that moment, a flash of papaya catches your eye from over his shoulder—Oscar, walking off back towards the McLaren hub like he hadn’t just kissed the daylights out of you behind his competitor’s temporary sanctuary. If you look dazed, it’s all because of him. But you can’t exactly tell Max that. 
“Oh, um, I dunno. Just tired, maybe. Long day. Intense race.” 
Max blows out a sigh, slinging an arm around your shoulders and leaning on you heavily. “Tell me about it.”
You pat him on the back sympathetically. “Sorry for the way it turned out, Maxie. You’ll get the win next time.” 
“Yeah I know. But Oscar—he’s not that bad, as far as drivers go. What do you think?” 
What do you think of Oscar? 
You think he’s one of the best things to ever come into your life. You think he’s got the potential of becoming a World Champion one day. You think he’s truly something special, both as a driver, and to you. 
Instead, you shrug. “He’s pretty good. Don’t really know him all that well, but he seems like a solid guy.” 
You want Oscar to be your little secret for just a little longer, even if it means telling your brother a tiny white lie.
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