#tennis player!dan

[onboardsorasora]

Been rewatching Break Point and couldn't help but think about tennis player Daniel meeting F1 Champ Max.

Idk if this this any good but...

Tennis AU?

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Max sees Daniel at the Monaco GP, he doesn't know who he is but he notices the attention he's getting walking around. Almost to the same degree as a driver.

He asks around and is told that Dan's a popular tennis player. He's in town because he just won the Monte Carlo Masters and is having a training camp for the French Open. He's been having a stonking season, winning his home tournament, the Australian Open and was the favourite to win the French.

He can hear his laugh down the paddock, he's talking to Mark at McLaren now, but before he was walking around Aston Martin with Lance's sister and her new husband.

He's hot and Max finds himself staring in-between sessions. He's wearing some flashy party shirt and ripped jean shorts. The peekaboo flash of tattoos on his thighs make Max wonder if the texture of his skin would feel different on his lips than the texture of his bare thigh. Would the colour pop more when smeared with come?

He turns away and steps into the safety of his garage with his crew. He sipped from his bottle and actively stopped himself from playing with the straw with his tongue. Out of the corner of his eyes, Daniel's walking by, stopping to talk to Christian.

Christian is waving him over now, of course he wants to show off his champion to this hot, sexy-

"Daniel, this is Max." Christian is a proud papa, clapping Max's broad back with a big smile.

Daniel's smile is bigger, brighter. He's hotter up close and Max hopes his blush is explained away by the sun.

"Hey Max. Crazy good driving out there." Daniel greets and Max enjoys the way his lips form the syllables of his name.

He smiles in return, wider than his media smile, warmer than the grin he gives when Christian has him meet other celebs.

"Of course." He replies, his voice scratchy. "Congrats on your season."

"Thank ya thank ya." His grin was impossibly wider, as if he were blushing. Max couldn't tear his eyes away even as someone grabbed Daniel's attention and Christian waved him off.

"Fuckin' full send out there, yeah?"

"Full send." Max parroted, and Daniel was off. Max saw Christian looked at him consideringly and sucked on his forgotten straw instead of meeting his eyes.

"I'll talk to Vicky about tickets." Is all he offered before walking away, clapping Max on his back. Max followed him back into the garage, mentally going over all he knows about tennis.

[mousemannation]

i am being divinely punished for not learning to drive

[girljeremystrong]

i had a series of wildly weird dreams tonight but the one that takes the cake is one of jonah ryan and dan egan of veep fame being sleazy roommates in spain of all places and the gang's all there and they're falling in love and i will PAY YOU TO WRITE ME THE FIC

[nelkcats]

Don't let King Phantom get bored or he will do meaningless things

Danny got bored and decided to have a tennis competition, even though he had no idea how to play Tennis and had never held a racket in his life. He thought it would be fun.

He joined Dan because incredibly he knew how to play tennis (he was also quite fed up with Danny's presence, but he didn't have many options since the halfa had promised him his freedom if he won), and his opponents were Jazz and Dani.

In a very short time Danny got tired of losing. Clockwork suggested him to get new players to practice, and he took it seriously. Maybe he would have to look for superheroes to practice with.

He abused his Ghost King powers and transported the Justice League to the Realms to, you guessed it, play tennis. He explained that he and Dan would be their opponents in the final round, and if they didn't win, Dan would be free.

Dan was quick to explain that he was a prisoner of war after destroying a universe, but the King promised his freedom if he won (which wasn't entirely a lie), and wished them luck, commenting that perhaps he would visit their universe next.

Jazz and Dani sighed at their brothers' behavior; Dan would visit to annoy someone, though he surely wouldn't do anything, and Danny didn't even know how to play tennis but somehow made all the heroes panic. It was pretty obvious that they were both playing.

After this interaction John Constantine wondered what the fuck was wrong with the universe. Was the balance of his world really tied to a hyperactive teenager and his weird family?

[callahanisms]

for me...formidable

i'm going to commit to the bit and make this a real thing. because i like the idea of tashi getting her fellow tennis player back in the game.

this will also be another time where i'm specifying reader's gender. so a female reader. and they're the same age as tashi.

unfortunately did i technically make covid canon in the universe? yes. yes i did.

pairing: tashi duncan x fem! reader

context: 2019 (briefly), late 2020 - 2021

"are you just going to keep eyefucking your husband? or...?"

you turn your head back to look at her. "sorry." you feel the phantom feeling of pain shooting up your leg and your fingers go to scratch at the scar on your leg.

tashi glances over. your husband and hers. playing tennis in the country club. she can overhear the conversation from them. come on art! do it! beat me!

"and how are your kids?"

"they're fine. doing well in school. having fun at sleepaway camp. it's just me in the house. feels unnatural." your stomach churns at the thought of your kids.

that's not to say you didn't love them. you loved your triplets. but your triplets reminded you that you could have had a different path. you could've had them later after you won the coveted venus rosewater dish. to finish your collection of trophies on the shelf. to finish a grand slam career title.

you feared you had aged out of the sport. and that there was no chance for you. a comeback was out of your league.

"he still keeps you at home?"

"yeah. even though i saved his career." you take a sip of your virgin strawberry daquiri. "that whole speech, the whole rebrand idea...was me. it was my idea."

"he's been keeping you locked up since college. so i'm not surprised." tashi's fingers tap on the table as she looks out at the men playing tennis.

"locked up since i got my injury." you scoff. "hate it. i hate seeing that empty space on the shelf. there's enough room for another trophy. for wimbledon." you sniffle. you blink back the tears. your husband always scolded you for getting emotional about it.

"you healed. you recovered well." tashi cocks her head to the side, and she pushes her sunglasses up so they rest atop her head. "why aren't you playing?"

"dan says...some shit about not wanting me to get hurt again. it's real bullshit."

"yeah. it is. you should play."

you raise your eyebrows, looking at tashi. "tashi."

"what? you can do it. you're still young."

"i'm 31. i don't...i don't want to be one of those players that comes back way past their prime. besides, i wouldn't even know where to start-"

"i can coach you."

you nearly spat out your drink. you swallow it down and ignore how cold it is, how it painfully travels down your system. "huh!"

"i can coach you. feel like you're...a lot easier to work with than some other people." tashi leans back in her seat. you were always receptive to her advice and criticism back at stanford. you always took things to heart because you strived for perfection and for pushing yourself.

and secretly, tashi wanted to piss off your husband. she's always hated dan.

you purse your lips. "tashi i...no. don't. you don't need to!"

"art wants to retire. after he tries for the u.s. open. win or lose. he wants to retire. i need someone new. and i think you deserve a second chance."

"that's...that's if i can even play the same. i'm old! my body is...completely different from when we were in college. i have three kids-"

"dan can watch the kids, for once. just...you don't even have to tell me now. you can think about it. if you want to play but not go with me, that's fine too. i would just hate to see a stranger try to say what you should and shouldn't do."

after all, you deserve to be cared for by the woman who knows you the best.

lockdown was a time where you really sat and thought about your tennis career.

you were tired of just taking care of the kids all day, of being locked in with them all the time.

and what you hated the most was that empty space on your shelf, staring at it all day, every day. you hated it when your husband showed it off on facetime to his friends. he almost bragged about the fact that there was a missing trophy, that you were missing a grand slam.

about two months into lockdown, you text tashi.

– let's do this – comeback of the century, right? – and i want you on board

"art's excited for you."

"is he?" you look at her as she's writing something on the legal pad. she always enjoyed the feeling of the paper. she was writing with a pen you had bought her. it was from a stationary store and the kind that had a tiny tennis ball and tennis racquet attached to the clicker.

"i think he's just happy to...relax." she looks up, watching the way your body was being stretched by the trainer. "you're a little bit older. and you have some clotting issues since giving birth. i can get in touch with some people to help craft a suit that will help."

"tashi, don't you think we're doing too much?"

"we aren't. you're older. and your body is obviously different from art's. for one, you literally made and carried three kids. we just need to get you the right equipment, get your body back into shape, and train you up."

the look of hesitation does not go unnoticed. "we can stop at any time-"

"no. i want that dish." you say it through gritted teeth. "i'm going to fucking get it."

tashi feels her lips curl into a satisfied smile. "hell yes we are."

"i registered you for a tournament. they're starting to open things back up." tashi lightly hits the ball and watches the way your legs move with precision. you hit the ball and it knocks over the cone all the way to your left. "you're basically a whole new player. some people might remember you, some won't. so we're leaning towards a new public image." she hits another ball.

you hit it and knock over the final cone.

"what does dan think about all this?" she asks.

you shake your head, wiping the sweat off of your forehead. "i'm divorcing dan."

tashi raises her eyebrows. "oh. is everything okay?"

"everything is fine. i...just hated him. don't hate the kids. they're sweethearts. and he's wasn't around enough for them to really grow attached to him. i...i was trying to work things out when he swooped in like a hawk and shoved that ring on my finger." you loved not being able to wear it. "i finally worked those things out."

"good for you. you deserve better."

like her.

but tashi would never say that out loud.

charleston. the perfect opportunity for a comeback.

you've faced worse. you had to remind yourself of that. the charleston open was not as serious as the other tournaments of the past. your hands were cold and frigid beneath the air conditioning. and they were growing numb.

"hey. hey. you're going to do great."

tashi's hands are warm. they cup your face, making you look at her and deep into her brown eyes.

she's always so warm.

"i can't feel my fingers." you mutter.

"here." she moves her hands to take yours, pressing them flat together between her own. "warm enough?"

"i can...feel it coming back."

tashi watches the way your eyes look all over the place, how they take in the crevices of the wall. you were always an observant person. you always liked looking at the walls of the locker room.

the catsuit looked really good on you too.

"what if...this is all a mistake..." you mumble.

"then it would be a waste of hard work and materials." she doesn't mean to sound cold. "and technically, you would have divorced dan for no reason."

you finally look at her. her eyes are soft. and you understand. she sees another shot within you. the same kind of shot she saw within art.

"yeah. i guess." there's the remnant of a laugh leaving you.

tashi leans forward. her lips are soft. and she tastes like prosecco. her perfume is warm with spices.

you kiss her back, leaning towards her, leaning into her. it feels right. kissing her feels right. just like that one time you two kissed in the showers at stanford.

tashi pulls away. she feels your hands. your hands were warm. hers were a little cold now.

"decimate that bitch."

[dnpoll]

whoops is it obvious i'm a dog person (i do love cats though!!!)

pictures below the cut!

[fritzes]

Which tennis player pairings give off the most sibling vibes? Like, ranked as well.

omg I don't know if I can do it ranked but here's a few:

ben and literally any american player (and also arthur fils lol)

jasmine and flavio

karo and linda

jack and dan evans (and their dad is andy murray)

[maximumwobblerbanditdonut]

Andy Murray's stunning career comes to an end with Olympic doubles heartbreak in Paris 🇫🇷🎾

Andy Murray is the only tennis player to have won two singles gold medals at the Olympics, and the only player to retain the singles Olympic title.

Andy Murray's glittering career comes to an end: Tearful two-time Wimbledon champion bows out of Olympics after doubles defeat alongside Dan Evans in what is Scot's final ever tennis match.

Goodbye to the career of an Olympic legend. A sporting legend 🤩🎾

#paris2024 #Olympics #tennis #men'sdoubles #AndyMurray #DanEvans #career #eurosport #ThePhryge

📹@eurosport

Posted 1st August 2024

[slymewitch]

In the last 24 hours I had a bunch of dreams that were kinda weird

I had a dream where I found out Dan Avidan from the Game Grumps plays Greg Heffley’s dad and I believed it was real until I double checked just now.

I had a dream where I kissed a girl who I do not recognize from real life and it made me experience the yearning when I woke up.

And I had a dream where my school was having a Tennis tournament against a Japanese school and I had to fill in a spot on the team because the previous player couldn’t come in. That previous player was Pineco from pokemon and he had the voice of Ocho from TAWoG.

[done-cruising]

I never post on my side blog but I have a tennis fic so

Felix Auger-Aliassime and Jack Draper Fic

I Was Split in Half but So Were You

(it's on AO3 - but I'll also posted it here for the exposure lol)

Jack Draper and the fallout of his controversial Cincinnati match against Felix Auger-Aliassime (everything that happens between them from then to Shanghai).

Tennis players of the same generation grows up together, but do they really grow up at all?

Takes place over August 25th 2024 - October 4th 2024

(this one's bittersweet but yeah)

After Cincinnati Open, Jack Draper was stuck, looking through comments on his “rivalry” between him and Felix Auger-Aliassime. He was explicitly told not to. His team and his friends ORDERED him to stay away from social media after that match in Cincinnati. Draper had known that people were on Felix’s side, they were chanting replay right in front of the both of them that day. What he didn’t know was this match point might be stuck to his reputation for the rest of the season and maybe beyond that.

Seemingly, every single person on any form of social media had labelled him “a cheater”. A unredeemable cheat that should be punished because a call that was too difficult for the human eye to process in the moment was somehow his fault. It would have be easier to block out the massive amount of messages if only… if only he did believe himself.

Yes, that ball at Cincinnati had double bounced.

They saw it in the replay and Jack saw it. He FELT it. No amount of reassurance could make that change. He was a liar. Everyone had to understand, though, he NEEDED this competition because…

Then Jack continued to scroll down every instagram reel, highlight video and tweets of that match.

“Felix was so calm during this whole thing, any other tennis player would have lost their shit.”

“The Canadian No. 1 is as classy as it gets.”

“The difference is Felix has honour and Jack does not.”

“Felix replayed a similar point with Andy Murray, he’s always been a gentlemen”

He lost the next match against Rune. Holger seeing him just before the match and stating to him straight: “I’m doing this for Felix and everyone on his side.” Players knew that Rune was a trash talker but the Brit doubted everyone had gotten such a personal insult from him. Rune was friends with Felix and Jack just imagined the texts they sent to each other, before and after the match. Then Jack lost.

Fucking Felix. Everyone thought that the Canadians were perfect. Jack knew for a fact that Shapo had a temper and Felix… well. Jack had never practiced or played with him even though they came up through Juniors together - he didn’t REALLY know him. Regardless, everyone calling Felix something akin to a cherub, Jack just assumed the worst. That the next time they see each other, Felix would rub it in his face.

And next time, couldn’t come soon enough.

—

The US Open high wore off so quick. The quarter-final was such an short endeavour. He was proud of himself through it though, so much so that he’d almost forgotten about Felix. He didn’t even hear about him in New York, FAA dropped out the first round and Draper had not thought about him since, outside of that time when he saw Felix practicing early on and Jack switched courts with Musetti and Carlos to get further from the Canadian.

Within 2 weeks, he was now going back to the England for the Davis Cup. It was the North, so at least it wasn’t his exact home crowd but it was rough. The Mancunians were crowding and recognising him in several places. They were all expecting something from him, for his US open run to mean something. It’s only the group stage but Team GB was not doing well, losing to both Finland and Argentina.

Before they even knew it, Canadians in the last round was peeking over, already looking to finish at the top of their group.

Denis Shapovalov broke Dan Evans to bits. And Great Britain was out.

It wasn’t a huge deal, he had to prepare for Tokyo Open anyways, his dad and brother agreed Davis was a distraction to his ranking fight so it was actually a good thing. He still watched as Denis celebrated with his teammates though. Then Denis’ faced his best friend - FAA. There Jack was, scheduled for a dead rubber against someone he’d been avoiding since they were in Ohio a month ago.

“Dan, can you check if they’re around the corner?”

Evans, as good hearted and worn out as he was, didn’t want to entertain Jack’s childish anxiety. “God, it’s fine, you’ll have to walk out together anyways. You’ll be fine okay-”

Jack peeked out at the corridor from the changing room again, pulling Evans with him. “I don’t want to be in front of him, then I won’t be able to see him coming.” Dan laughed at him and finally gets himself out there to look.

—

Nothing went right for him. He played well enough but he lost the tie breaks and the points that mattered. Felix got him in straight sets. Throughout the entire game, Felix was smirking. He was so relaxed that it made Jack tense up more. What the fuck is Felix doing to him? Every time he looked over the net, he swore Felix was mocking his stance.

“Jack Draper decimated his racquet on court, days after his biggest ATP match.”

He couldn’t control himself, Felix won that first tie break and Draper smashed his racquet.

“Revenge on Draper.”

After the match, Shapovalov sat down and refused to shake his hand.

“Imagine having beefing with Felix, the nicest man on tour.”

He didn’t want to see his family yet, he’s already texted to say he’ll go to them in a bit. Instead, Jack was shaking in the dressing room, his back against the bench as he sat on the floor, fists curled up and completely finished.

At the end of the game, he went up to shake Felix’s hand, the Canadian barely made eye contact, flickering up to look at him only slightly before pulling his hand away almost instantly. Jack looked so stupid, the whole match he was losing his nerve and-

“Hey, um, Jack?”

There was a knock at the door, it opened only so slightly, waiting for confirmation. Jack’s never met another French Canadian so he knew that accent came from one man.

“You alright?” He still couldn’t see his face. For all Felix knew, there wasn’t anyone there, or someone completely different. He was taking the risk of being wrong for…

Draper stayed silent for a second longer than he wished to, then when he heard some shuffling and the door creaking a bit back, he wiped his face before speaking in a hurry.

“Yea.” He managed to push his voice up.

Felix walked in slowly, approaching with caution, with his green jacket and black sweatpants. Jack hadn’t even changed yet, he became very aware of how his shirt stuck to him with sweat. There was a weird look on his opponent’s face.

“I heard you… um.” There was no shyness in the hesitation, just a question not asked. His kind brown eyes assessing Jack, his brow rather low watching him. There was no passive aggressiveness between them like there was on court. No crowd, just the two of them, speaking alone with each other for the first time in a month. Maybe Jack had his mouth slightly agape at the man opposite him for a little too long but was Felix always this tall? Jack craned his neck more as he walked closer. He tried to uncurl his legs to get up but he doesn’t, he just appeared to be shuffling and stressing his knees on the ground.

Felix extended his hand towards Jack. Again, he paused looking at Felix’s hand and then at his face.

For some reason, Jack still had the strength to hold on to it. The Canadian’s grip was strong compared to Jack’s shakes. He tried to stop shivering as Felix pulled him to his feet, but all that happened was his heart pounded quicker. His feet balanced himself well enough but his hands were all cold when he let go of Felix’s.

“Alright. I’ll see you at Tokyo Open, eh?” Felix placed a soft smile on his face. Jack had his doubts about if it was genuine or not, but it didn’t matter all that much.

“Yeah. See you there.” Jack tried to paste his own smile on his face but it did seem a little false. He also didn’t realise how warm his face was until he grinned. For a second, Jack remembered that he’s been staring at Felix more than a beat too long again but he couldn’t look elsewhere.

The Canadian nodded at him and patted his shoulder as he turned away. It’s never been so quiet in a changing room than when Felix left Jack standing in that one alone.

—

Jack eventually got himself to Tokyo, it was barely a week and a half later, the weather was scorching and he found himself get worried about it. He was used to getting anxious fast, so there isn’t a huge difference there.

Tokyo Open had a event at the beginning where all the players and their teams were invited to play games… well, it’s pretty much just media day part 1. Draper just sat in the corner, off near where the lamps didn’t illuminate too harshly. He sucked in more of the Tokyo Summer heat, the last he’ll enjoy before he’s sure he’ll start hating it. Watched Taylor Fritz appear with Felix following in tow, both their girlfriends also not far behind. Right. Jack tried to look occupied, going on his phone but it’s hard to look engaging in anything significant if you’re alone. His dad was busy talking to everyone he used to work with, his brother didn’t even come and his coach was off elsewhere. But when Jack finished fidgeting, he looked up and they were gone. Of course, why would they notice him anyway. Not being on the tour very consistently, made a lot of people forget about him.

He wanted to follow up, to find someone to speak to, maybe Ben Shelton or Arthur Fils but he didn’t.

The Open just began and Jack played at the same time as Felix. The Canadian was playing against Nishioka. And Jack won against Bellucci. When Jack finished comfortably, he got to watch Felix lose two terrible points against Yoshihito, even though he played a better overall game. Jack knew that him and Felix were on the opposite sides of the draw and they would have to meet in the finals if they were to meet at all, but still, disappointment pooled at the bottom of his stomach. Jack wasn’t sure where this all came from, he just wanted to see Felix again- without going out of his own way.

Jack saw Felix leave the building, not like a creep but they happened to leave at the same time. There was a sad air to it, Felix really need a come-back. He lost the first round at US Open and now the first round out Tokyo Open. Everything seemed to spiral out of control for him after their encounter in Ohio. Jack tried not to think about that when Felix bumped his shoulder with his own.

“Heard you had a great game.”

“Yeah?” Jack walked out of the stadium only hearing people say “good win” or “nice job,” but not “good game”. It was a good game, for him at least. He wasn’t trying to be clever but just clinical like he was working on.

“Had a good day, that’s all really.” Jack bit him lip to hold back a smile, that would be too proud. When Jack remembered Felix’s loss, he quickly stopped walking to clarify.

“I’m sorry, um-” Jack stuttered, but obviously Felix was not offended.

Felix brought out his famous smirk again. “Nah, I just had a bad day, didn’t I.”

Jack would have been crushed in his position, but Felix still held himself. Obviously, the Canadian didn’t go around breaking racquets but his calm in such a situation was unfathomable to Jack. If Jack were to ever reached top 10 in his career, it would be aspirational to have the same smile Felix did in the face of defeat - but he doubt he could keep his emotions in check like that.

Atlas, Matteo Berrettini and Hubert Huracz walked around the corner from the car park - waving Felix to come quicker. Why was Felix friends with absolutely everyone?

“Gotta go, good luck with the rest.”

“Thanks.”

—

He’s managed to tear his ab in the middle of quarterfinal game in Tokyo days later.

Walked out with his head high, but he didn’t feel anything. He was so tired of getting injured all the time, his body was failing him and he was only 22. The quick spikes of anxiety from the pain in his ab spurred his thoughts: “What if I continued to do this every time I play. What if I never win a title after this season? What the hell was he supposed to do with injuries other than wallow and think catastrophically?”

Jack got himself to the medic room and then got himself to his physio.

He was floating.

His team looked more annoyed than concerned at this point, he told himself.

Jack didn’t seem to think about anything, someone was talking about the schedule and that his mother was urging them to bring Jack home for treatment - but that just went through him. Everything was going through him. The air was light and he was light but somehow he was staying on the ground.

No one seemed to notice when he slipped off to the changing rooms but he found himself hovering over the bin outside of the shower. He was just staring into it, his stomach churning but with no avail.

“Oh shit.” An American accent pierced the cold changing room air.

“Do you need me to get someone Draper?” Shelton.

Jack’s mind was getting hotter, he wanted to say “No thanks, I’ll leave this breakdown for myself to suffer as I’ve been enough for a nuisance today.” But the only thing that came out of his mouth was

“Felix, here?”

“Felix? Sure, uh yeah-” Shelton shuffled out, his slightly panicked voice faded as he said something about Felix being around to use the practice courts.

About 4 seconds later, Jack’s empty mind registered people coming into the changing room again.

“-he looks like he did during US open when he was playing Sinner y’know and-” Ben’s voice approached him with another set of footsteps.

“Jack?” Felix’s voice turned him around, however slowly he did.

Jack saw him again, he’s wearing the same shirt he wore at his one game in New York. He looked concerned, maybe. Jack felt the heat in his mind start to concentrate behind his eyes.

“I’m going to miss Shanghai Open.” Jack responded with his voice breaking, at this point he wasn’t fighting it.

Felix got closer to Jack - his eyes wider. His fear for Draper was faint but somehow Jack saw it.

Jack’s feelings flood back into him immediately. The ground beneath him seemed to vibrate, sucking the numbness out of the air.

Even though Felix was slowly approaching as if Jack was a wounded rabbit left as roadkill - Jack got to him a little quicker and wrapped his arms around his neck, covering his face with his forearm on Felix’s shoulder. Jack felt Felix reciprocate and held his back and shoulders.

“It happens.”

The heat behind Jack’s eyes leaked out, only a little. Felix held his neck, smoothing his short hair.

“If anyone were to be lucky to have no injuries their entire career, call me and I’ll complain to God about it myself.”

They sat down for a good 30 minutes. Ben was there too, nodding at what Felix had to say, still kind of looking at Jack as if he were to break into tears again. Felix hadn’t made Jack feel like that, even though he was aware his eyes and nose were still pink every time he sniffled.

When Ben was called to go complete his post-match stretching. Felix walked Draper back to his team. On the way, he was just staring at Felix, as he’s done for half an hour now.

“Life happens outside of hitting the ball. We might remember that if we stopped staring at it every and all day long.” Felix said as Jack walked to a stop just as they arrived at the door, shielding them from his team.

This time, Jack didn’t jump into Felix’s arms (as his sense of embarrassment returned as well) but Felix saw him and held him anyways. Draper’s grip of Felix tightened a little more than last time.

“Get some rest. I’ll see you out there. Whenever you come back.” He lets go and Felix pats the side of his head.

Jack watched Felix spin around and turn out of the corridor.

The Brit breathed and pushed into the room.

—

When Jack got back in London, the first thing he did was watch the Beijing Open final with his team, snapping a photo to cheer Yannick on. But, every few minutes, he was refreshing Google to see when Felix’s 1st round at Shanghai was scheduled.

It was Friday morning. And before he knew it, Felix had lost the worst match he’d seen him play this year, against Muller. Jack’s friends from home like Paul Jubb, messaged Jack about Felix’s recent run of failures being karma. Jack didn’t reply.

Instead, he sat there all day, running through what he might text Felix. When his brother brought groceries back to the house, Jack considered asking him but he just thanked him for the smoothie he bought from the corner shop.

It was past midnight when Jack finally worked up the words in him to tell Felix something.

Are you alright? Jack’s phone glowed in the darken bedroom, he just imagined what it looked like if he could see himself, his illuminated eyes - anticipating a buzz from his phone. It had to be the longest 10 minutes until Jack saw a notification pop up.

Not really.

but Shapo somehow found a Tim Hortons in Shanghai so we’re having breakfast

Felix sent a picture to follow, Denis was holding an ice cap coffee with a breakfast bagel on their table, looking at his phone.

That’s nice. Jack sent it without thinking. Then he realised he’s trapped himself into a corner without a line that could lead back into a conversation.

want to call? when you wake up? it should be about early morning for you lol

Sure. Jack smiled, HE SMILED - without anyone to witness it.

—

The next morning, Jack found himself sitting in his childhood drawing room, crosslegged as he talked to Felix on the phone. The French-Canadian had a tone in his voice where he obviously didn’t want to talk about his losses so they steered away from that. They talked about all sorts, Shanghai’s weather, the commercialness of the current media activities they had to do and the fans. Felix told Jack about when he saw a fan yelling bweh in Andrey’s face. Then they started talking about juniors.

“The first time I saw you, I think I was 14 and you were 12? It was my first time in Europe- it was for the ITF’s junior thing.” Felix had a brighter voice recounting those days. It was weird that they’ve been in orbit for so long but that’s just how the people privileged enough to play tennis live.

“Yeah, my dad was invited there and my brother wanted to play but couldn’t.”

“That’s pretty weird right? All of us are like a decade older but technically, still all doing the same things. Sometimes it feels like we never grew up- like we never left school.”

Jack thought about that a lot actually. Sometimes he wishes it was otherwise. What would have happened if he and his brother chose something else? But all paths seemed to die here.

Then Jack thinks.

“That year I got second place at Wimbledon Juniors. 5 people told me it was because you weren’t a junior anymore.” Jack looked away from the window of the room and scanned into the shelves - seeing the proudly displayed Wimbledon Junior 2nd place plaque.

“2018?” Felix’s memory was fast, perhaps it was memorable.

“Yeah.”

“I had a terrible run that year, I missed being a junior so bad, man. Didn’t even make it to Wimbledon, was too busy playing challengers.” The Canadian huffed just thinking about it.

“Didn’t feel like it. I always felt like you were so far ahead from everyone.” Jack remembered it all deeply, the next-gen predictions and how Denis and Felix and everyone that was only a little older than him being praised into the sun.

“I remember in 2016, I was obsessed with your career. You did so much when we were juniors like, no one could keep up.” Jack stumbled when he said career, he was just hoping the call quality didn’t catch that.

“And whenever I saw you with Denis. I wanted that, like - someone to grow up together and climb the ranks with.”

“But I couldn’t really do it, I tried with Loffhagen but it didn’t work out.”

It’s quiet for a second. And honestly Jack never thought they’d have this moment.

When they were juniors together, they never had any moments together. They never played against each other and never spent time together. Jack only knew Felix from a far, paired with Denis or any of the Canadians or Ugo or … anyone. Everyone liked him. But Jack was quiet. Maybe it was his stupid poshness but he didn’t really know how to interact properly with other juniors without talking about the game seriously. He always admired how Felix was with the other boys, calmly sensible but enjoyable to be around.

“You have plenty of chances to be someone’s doubles partner, now. Especially since Sinner’s up there…” Felix weighed out,

“Yeah.” Jack could feel himself get quieter.

“Hey.” Felix’s voice crackled through the phone again.

“It’s going to be good. YOU’RE going to be good.” Felix laughed, smoothing over whatever tension Jack might be having in his chest.

“I thought you were going to do so well this year, I told the media team that you were going to be THE break out star.” Felix affirmed.

Jack grinned at that.

“I guess I proved your predictions right. You’re welcome for that, Oxford.” Jack joked, the morning sun had appeared from behind East London’s clouds outside of the drawing room window.

Felix laughed back. “Maybe I’ll keep predicting you and see the limits of my power, Draper.”

[onboardsorasora]

So excited that I finally found a way to participate in the Summer of Cum goodness!! Also! Moar Tennis AU!!

Part 1 | Part 10 | Part 12

Part 11 - Summer of Cum 2023 - Day 26 Come Marking

"Fuckfuckfuck!" Daniel cried out, hoarse. From his exuberant scream at the end of the match, and the endless media…and from the onslaught of pleasure Max had been subjecting him to since he stepped through the threshold of the apartment.

He was happy, overjoyed and oversensitive. But the way Max was fingering him so perfectly, he knew he wasn't going anywhere until his dick unloaded itself again.

Max was sucking him off as if it was his job, swallowing down Daniel's length and swirling his tongue around the shaft, pressing solidly along the veiny underside. Daniel distantly praised Max's multitasking ability because the fingers fucking into him wetly and nailing his prostate were doing the Lord's work. 

Daniel'd already come once; Max had honest to God yanked him into the apartment, pressed him against the door and swallowed his dick. The tennis pro had come not even ten minutes later. The combination of euphoria from his win, excitement that Max saw him win and then Max on his knees was just too much stimulation.

Max; his beautiful, incredibly sexy Max, had swallowed with a moan and then smirked up at his bleary eyed boyfriend. His red lips, swollen and more pronounced. Daniel had stroked his favoured freckle, smearing away the stray some that had hid it from his gaze.

Max had sucked Daniel's fingers into his mouth, maintaining eye contact while he slowly stroked Daniel's softening cock. Daniel opened his mouth to apologize but Max cut him off,

"Can you go again?"

"Probably, if you like give me a minute."

"What if I finger you?" Max eyed him innocently and Daniel's eyes rolled into the back of his head.

"Oh fuck." He whispered in reply. Max felt when his dick gave a twitch.

Easing himself to his feet, Max pulled Daniel along behind him through the living room to the main bedroom. They stripped quickly, clinging to each other.

"I'm proud of you, y'know?" He'd whispered in Daniel's ear before he licked the appendage.

"Yeah?" Daniel shuddered out, tilting his head for more.

"You look so fucking hot when you're focused. I almost fisted myself right then and there."

"Fuuh-" Daniel trailed off before making a grunting sound as Max pushed him to lay back on the bed.

"Your legs must be so tired, don't worry I'll take care of you." Was all Max offered before the only thing Daniel knew was the wet slide of his tongue everywhere. 

Max groaned a wordless noise as he thrust into the tight heat of Daniel's body. His head lolled forward, almost resting against his boyfriend's panting sternum. No matter how many times they did this, it always made him feel insane with want.

They were connected, he was in Daniel as far as he could go, but he still wanted more. Needed it. 

Hooking tired legs over his elbows, Max fucked into him deep. Daniel was a writhing mess beneath him, his eyes were squeezed shut. His back was arched and Max felt all of the uncontrollable twitching of his legs with every slide home.

"Max Maax." Daniel trembled into the night, cleaning out what was left of his voice. Fucking Daniel was a sensory treat and Max drank up every bit. 

Dropping one leg, Max gripped and stroked Daniel's leaking length, smirking at the accompanying clench on his own dick. Daniel was babbling nonsense now, a sure sign that his second orgasm was close. 

Daniel came with a cry, and a curse. Squeezing Max's dick deliciously as he spurted against his own chest and chin. Max pulled out quickly stroking himself the rest of the way to come with a groan over Daniel's chest as well, mixing their loads messily.

Daniel smiled at him tiredly from his spot on the bed, unable to move if he tried. Max smiled back, swirling his finger idly in their mess. Daniel watched him softly, as he coated his fingers and smeared their come along the ink on his thigh, first the envelope then the sailboat. Max's blue eyes glittered as the ink glistened darker like always. 

[annieqattheperipheral]

tw: death, funeral

Beautiful article on Adam Johnson's Celebration of Life, includes those from the hockey world who attended and their shared words:

- - -

HIBBING, Minn. — In a small, hard-working town of 16,000 in Minnesota’s Iron Range, where there are streets named after Bob Dylan and there’s a sense of pride at having also produced MLB legend Roger Maris and Basketball Hall of Famer Kevin McHale, there is — and was — only one “Adam.”

“If you said the name ‘Adam’ in Hibbing, everybody knew that meant Adam Johnson,” said Scott Pionk, the father of Winnipeg Jets defenseman Neal Pionk and Wild draft pick and University of Minnesota-Duluth freshman Aaron Pionk. “Like LeBron, he needed only one name: Adam.”

Jim Perunovich, the father of St. Louis Blues defenseman Scott Perunovich, agreed: “Cher. Bono. Everyone knows who Adam is.”

That’s why on a chilly, wet Monday afternoon, some 3,000 people filled the Hibbing Memorial Arena, which was originally built during the Great Depression and stands three blocks from Adam’s old high school, to pay their respects and offer an outpouring of love and support to the friends and family who are reeling right now. Nine days earlier, Hibbing’s “Adam” died at 29 years old playing the sport he loved, cut by a skate blade across the neck while playing professionally in England.

The Nottingham Panthers on Saturday conducted their own memorial, at Motorpoint Arena, where assistant coach Kevin Moore said Panthers fans had immediately taken to Adam — “our best player” – and will “wear his No. 47 in their hearts forever.”

Then on Sunday, Nottingham Forest football player and Panthers fanatic Orel Johnson Mangala scored in the 47th minute of a Premier League victory over Aston Villa — while fans were paying tribute to Adam with a one-minute ovation. Hours later, Matthew Thiessen, the goalie for Adam’s alma mater, University of Minnesota-Duluth, made a career-best 47 saves in a 3-3 tie with cross-state rival University of Minnesota.

On Monday in Hibbing, scores of people walked into the lobby of the arena and were greeted by a picture of Adam flashing his joyful and infectious smile.

There was a condolence book and there were pictures of him as a baby and young boy running around or skating with his older brother, Ryan. There were pictures of Adam excelling with a hockey stick and tennis racket in his hand. There were pictures of him playing with his young nephew and niece and kissing his fiancée, Ryan Wolfe, a St. Francis native who he fell in love with instantly and planned to buy a farm or coffee shop with.

Seeing so many pictures of a happy Adam and hearing the memories of him was a great reminder that Adam is not just a name, not just a stranger causing so many other strangers to argue on social media about how and why he died. And the term “neck guard” wasn’t uttered once Monday, even though Adam’s death may end up causing a lot of good in the game as college and professional hockey players are starting, one by one, to seek out neck protection.

We were reminded that Adam was a son, a brother, a grandson, a nephew, a cousin and everybody’s best friend.

“Adam truly is and always will be our hometown hero,” said former Hibbing/Chisholm Bluejackets teammate Jake Doherty, one of nearly two dozen speakers to pay homage.

The nearly two-hour service was often funny and more often profoundly sad. And fittingly, it took place on the sheet of ice where Adam used to electrify, in the building he used to fill.

Hockey runs deep in Hibbing, and Adam’s death brought this community together.

Longtime P.A. announcer Dan Marich boisterously welcomed folks into the arena intentionally because that’s the way Adam would have heard it on the ice when he was in the starting lineup. And he ended the ceremony by announcing Adam’s name like he had just scored a goal to draw a thunderous ovation from the crowd as a band did a rendition of AC/DC’s “You Shook Me All Night Long” – a song Adam learned to play on a guitar he saved up to buy when he was a teenager.

This was not long after the same band caused waterworks by playing one of Adam’s favorite campfire songs, the song he used to love to sing with his best friend, Neal Pionk: the Eagles’ “Peaceful Easy Feeling.”

There were so many poignant moments during the ceremony. Like when Adam’s fiancée, Ryan, read a letter she wrote for him, telling him how much she’d miss her favorite napping partner and sous chef. And when Ryan’s sister, Kylie, read a poem then talked about how her sister sneaked out of a cabin to meet Adam that first night, the same night they apparently burned down a sauna. There were Adam’s nephew, Grant, and niece, Britta, constantly running over to Adam’s fiancée and sitting on her lap because, in their eyes, she is their “auntie.”

Maybe the most gripping moment came when Adam’s old high school coach, Mark DeCenzo, choked up and struggled to even start his speech. Adam’s mourning father, former UMD captain Davey Johnson, stood up, walked down the black carpet and joined DeCenzo, putting his arm around him and helping him get through his touching words.

- - -

Friends came from far and wide.

Winnipeg Jets ownership, led by Mark Chipman, arranged for a charter to fly Neal Pionk, Alex Iafallo, Dominic Toninato and Dylan Samberg to Hibbing for Sunday’s funeral mass and Monday’s celebration. St. Louis Blues defenseman Scott Perunovich also attended both and then hitched a ride with the Jets players back to St. Louis for Tuesday’s Jets-Blues game.

Also there Sunday were Wild president and general manager Bill Guerin, who signed Adam to the Penguins in 2017; Adam’s agent, Pete Rutili; former NHLer and current player agent Neil Sheehy; and Minnesota State coach Luke Strand and Detroit Red Wings assistant coach Jay Varady, who both coached Adam for USHL Sioux City.

University of Minnesota-Duluth coach Scott Sandelin spoke at Monday’s event and brought his entire team and staff. St. Cloud State coach Brett Larson was also there, as was Hibbing High’s hockey team.

Other players seen Monday included Henderson Silver Knights captain Jake Bischoff; the Colorado Eagles’ Riley Tufte; the Bridgeport Islanders’ Karson Kuhlman; the San Diego Gulls’ Nick Wolff and his girlfriend, Sydney Brodt, who in September was drafted by the new PWHL team in Minnesota; Bruins scout Parker MacKay; and former Minnesota Mr. Hockey Avery Peterson.

“Definitely had to be here. All of us,” said Tufte, who rushed back to Colorado on Monday night for a game Tuesday. “Can’t miss this. Not for this guy. We all loved him.”

On Friday night against Ontario, one of Adam’s former teams, Tufte recorded his first professional hat trick.

“The first thing I thought about was Johns,” Tufte said. “Even the way the third one went in: off the goalie, off a defenseman’s shin and in. I know Adam pushed it in. It was insane. Something pretty special.”

Neal Pionk first became friends with Adam playing in the Minnesota high school Elite League, then at Sioux City, where they lit it up on the power play. They lived together while at UMD. Pionk said during the celebration that you knew Adam really loved you if he was unrelenting with his insults.

Pionk demonstrated their bond by repeating one of their last text messages after the Jets lost three of their first four games this season: “You’re off to an abysmal start. Pick it up.”

Said Pionk, “I’ll miss those texts every day.”

Neal’s dad, Scott, whose wife helped plan the Celebration of Life with other family friends, said his son is crushed.

“This is the first time as a young guy that he’s lost somebody that he’s really close to,” Scott said. “He’s shocked. He’s devastated.”

Scott, a close friend of Adam’s dad, first got to know Adam in ninth grade. Davey would every now and then ask Pionk to call his son to encourage him when things weren’t going well hockey-wise. Adam worked at Pionk’s hockey camps and helped him one summer at his landscaping company, so they had a bond.

“He was quiet. He liked to be alone a fair amount. And he liked to do things his own way,” Pionk said of Johnson. “He was a free spirit. I’ll put it this way: He was playfully grumpy. Because whatever you decided, he’d be like, ‘I don’t want to go there tonight.’ And then five minutes later, you’d get him in the car and he was laughing and the life of the party. So he played that role. Guys loved it.”

Adam was a terrific hockey player. He was a beautiful skater, taking after his uncle and fellow UMD alum Gary DeGrio, and ultra-skilled, especially in high school. Guerin recruited him for two years, hoping to sign him in Pittsburgh.

During development camp with the Penguins after his sophomore year of college, Adam met with Guerin and Penguins development coach Mark Recchi. They told him they loved him but to go back to school, have a great junior year and they’d be waiting to sign him after that season.

Guerin then returned to the stands. Hall of Famer and Penguins owner Mario Lemieux walked up to Guerin and asked, “Who’s that kid?”

He was pointing at Adam.

Guerin said, “That’s Adam Johnson. Beautiful skater, isn’t he? We’re going to send him back to UMD and sign him after the year.”

Lemieux said, “Well, you probably shouldn’t let him leave the building.”

Guerin responded, “Are you serious?”

Lemieux said, “Yeah, we need to sign guys like that.”

Guerin and Recchi went back downstairs, grabbed Adam when he left the ice and told him, “We understand we just told you we’re sending you back, but things have changed. Mind coming upstairs and meeting with a small group of us?”

Adam showered, changed and walked into a room. That “small group” was Guerin, Recchi, coach Mike Sullivan, CEO David Morehouse, general manager Jim Rutherford and none other than Mario Lemieux.

When Super Mario tells you he wants to sign you, you sign.

“Hey look, this kid was as hot a free agent as you could get,” Guerin said. “We just loved the way he could move, the way he skated, the way he frankly smiled. Like his teammates loved him. He fit everything we wanted. There was no B.S. to him. He was just a well-rounded, well-grounded, really good kid.”

Guerin’s voice began to crack.

“This is just such a sad story,” Guerin said. “Just so sad. Gone way too soon. He had his whole life ahead of him.”

- - -

The testimonials Monday were beautiful.

Johnson’s old Hibbing assistant coach and good friend Grant Clafton called him a “joyful grump” and said he had to be loving seeing Clafton look and feel so uncomfortable and nervous talking in front of a packed arena.

As funny as that was, he made everybody sob when talking about his broken heart that Adam and the love of his life, Ryan, wouldn’t get to create the life together they so deserved.

Sandelin always told Adam he wanted him to have the puck on his stick 90 percent of the time. He remembered his sly grin, his humility, his care for his teammates.

Moore talked about watching all of Adam’s assists this season for Nottingham and being so warmed by the selfless look and joy he had when his teammates scored.

Ebony Johnson, Adam’s sister-in-law — “not by choice,” Adam would joke — talked beautifully but also got everybody laughing when she admitted that their friendship actually began as rivals when they were each up for a third-grade fitness award.

As she remembered it, she could do more pushups than Adam.

Every speaker’s address touched on a similar theme: This was a tremendous person who also happened to be a tremendous hockey player.

As his cousin and former Hibbing teammate Michael Pechnovnik said, “Heaven’s hockey team gained a heckuva player.”

- - -

Four thousand miles away in Nottingham, Adam’s devastated and shaken Panthers teammates watched the live stream Monday.

It was proof of community, one that Nottingham’s Westin Michaud knows well.

He hails from Cloquet, Minn. — 70 miles away from Hibbing — and played with and against Adam in youth, high school, college and pro hockey.

Michaud was an eyewitness to the incident that injured and ultimately killed his friend and was at Adam’s side until the very end.

Michaud said this has been a tremendously challenging time for him and his teammates but the outpouring of love of support has been heartwarming and there’s no doubt watching Monday’s sense of community helped.

“It’s truly amazing how much hockey has impacted not only my life but also the lives of others who play the game, regardless of their skill level,” Michaud said via text. “It’s a community filled with people who genuinely care for and support each other.

“Hockey is more than just a game; it brings people together, ignites passions and provides a profound sense of purpose. Additionally, it unites communities and validates individuals as part of something greater, nurturing both a sense of belonging and purpose in life.”

Still, Monday was hard. “We’re all cried out. We’re hurting. We’re hurting really bad up here right now,” said Jim Perunovich, who was so broken up after Sunday’s mass, Adam’s mom, Sue, had to console him. “Nobody can understand it, but I guess God needed Adam more than we did.”

But what made Monday beautiful was the laughter, the celebration of Adam’s life with humor and memories, as well as music and P.A. announcements.

“That’s the way we roll up here,” Perunovich said.

There’s something special about the Iron Range, where hockey runs deep. Adam cared so much about the people here. He was proud to be from here and took a piece of Hibbing and brought it with him to the UK.

Tufte, for one, was not surprised at Hibbing’s perfectly executed celebration.

“Good ol’ Hibbing hockey community,” said Tufte, who went to high school three hours south at Blaine but attended UMD. “Can’t beat it.”

The celebration of life was live-streamed.

[fictropes]

Today I was watching the French Open with my mom (lol) and ended up thinking about your tennis players wip from a bit ago. I know their story never got completed, but I still hope that dnp are doing well, hehe. And also that tennis Dan gets to continue to watch ducks.

Omg… I miss them. Someone finish that story or write their own dnp tennis fic😔

[ttwasteland]

AAAAAAAAA! We read New Defenders #140, and folks, this was a tough one. Topics of discussion include: Ninja Turtle booze choices, Steely Dan, horny flower poems, and late 80's/early 90's tennis players. That's the fun stuff. But, CONTENT WARNING, because this issue's plot involves racism and sexual violence, and those topics do come up in both the synopsis and our discussion.

https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/titan-up-the-defense/id1024210268?i=1000605471064

[goalhofer]

Famous March 11, 2023 birthdays:

Keith Murdoch (Australian-American businessman & investor), 92

Sam Donaldson; Jr. (American reporter & anchorman), 89

Bobby McFerrin; Jr. (American singer & record producer), 73

Jerry Zucker (American movie producer & director), 73

Jimmy Iovine (American businessman & record producer), 70

Terrence Howard (American actor & rapper), 54

P.J. Clapp aka Johnny Knoxville (American actor & stuntman)(pictured), 52

Bobby Abreu (Venezuelan baseball player), 49

Benji Madden (American guitarist & singer), 44

Joel Madden (American singer), 44

Dan Uggla (American baseball player), 43

Brian Anderson (American baseball player), 41

Greg Olsen (American football player & commentator), 38)

Paul Bissonnette (Canadian hockey player & analyst), 38

Marc-André Gragnani (Canadian hockey player), 36

Morita Ayumi (Japanese tennis player), 33

Jodie Comer (British actress)(pictured), 30

[murder-popsicle]

📕 + Bundle

@cephaloscience || facts about my muse || accepting

“Bucky” isn’t actually short for Buchanan, Bucky’s middle name. Bucky went by Jane up until she was seven years old. She started going by Bucky because she sported an impressive set of buck teeth as a child, and she was being teased about it. Her mother’s youngest sister, Bucky’s aunt Mo, suggested that she switch to Bucky – a teasing nickname her uncle Dan had always called her – at school, too, instead of just with Uncle Dan. Mo’s reasoning was that if Bucky owned her buck teeth, it would be harder for her classmates to use them against her. It worked, and the nickname stuck, so Bucky kept going by Bucky even after her (rather smaller) permanent teeth came in.

Bucky attended public school until 2nd grade, when her parents withdrew her and enrolled her in the local Catholic school instead, because they disapproved of the public school system’s Protestant approach to religious education.

Bucky started playing tennis when she was twelve, and by the time she hit her sophomore year of high school, she was her school's top girls' tennis player.