#the rugby team

[shotmrmiller]

military issued wife but you didn't know that using the "dating app" your friend brought up once in idle talk would end with you in an office with a (signed) marriage license on the desk, actively not looking at your 'husband', the burly lummox with a skull mask who's dwarfing the chair he can barely fit in.

you'd thought it'd be like tinder. a potential dating site. as in messaging on the app, getting to know each other, exchanging personal numbers before going on a date. not marriage. not opening your front door expecting it to be your door dasher and instead it's him with a rucksack in one hand and duffel in the other.

he'd looked down his thick nose at you, grunted a quiet, "not bad", and pushed past as if you were a swinging door to a saloon. what the fuck had he been doing there? you'd only spoken a couple of times with him and left on read for the some of it. you'd chosen to move on, try to match with someone else but the app had stopped working (you couldn't swipe right or left anymore) so you'd just put it on the back burner. you had better things to worry about than another disappointment of a man then.

except now said disappointment of a overly large man is taking up most of the couch and his legs aren't even all that far apart. and he's at your house. the house you'd never sent him the address to. as a matter of fact, you'd received a text from an unknown number earlier that had said someone would be home in a few. you'd ignored it thinking it was a wrong number situation but now you're sure it was him. how he got your phone number is also a mystery.

you'd tried to argue. to threaten him with the cops. to get him out and away, far fucking away, but he'd only scooped you up and let you pelt his broad back with your fists. chuckled low in his throat while he smacked your arse to keep still. "i'd hate to drop m'wife."

whatever fight you had he ate right out of you with the heels of your feet digging into the large curve of his shoulders and his hands curled around the back of your thighs. maybe it's because it'd been a while but he'd played your body like an instrument and had you bucking your hips against his tongue, slick coating his face in minutes. (your cheeks burn furiously hot when you think back on what he'd said then. "tight little thing 'nd you've only taken my two fingers." it's flattering, sue you.)

he'd lapped at your sodden cunt until you had overstimulation clumping your lashes together, inner thighs tender from the bristles of his shorn hair and unshaven jaw, your palm on the crown of his head having both pulled him to you and pushed him away.

and then he'd wiped your release with the back of his hand, thumbed the swollen flesh of your bottom lip and rumbled that it's time for bed.

which eventually led to you being here. in front of a man he calls Price, a marriage certificate unlike any you've ever glanced upon, a large gloved hand curled snugly around your leg, fingers grazing a little too close to where he'd left aching and swollen just yesterday.

you're reading the terms and conditions of anything from here on forward. even the fine print.

and then soap comes around and plants a seed in his head of him planting a seed in you :/ at least you can tell your nosy ass aunt that at least you've got a man while she's on her 4th divorce on thanksgiving 💅🏼

[simonbrain]

cw slight dubcon

simon sweet talking you into having another kid because he's a nasty man who just wants a big family with his precious wife :(

it's hard to acknowledge anything except for the steady pace simon keeps as he drills into you and the hushed words being cooed in your ear, his voice filling your empty head with thoughts of adding another to the family. he's so eager to get you pregnant again, so ready to welcome a third little angel into your lives.

"would look so pretty, baby," he moans, pawing at your tits and chuckling fondly at the whine he gets back. "we can put tha' spare room to use, eh? please, lovie." you try your best to answer back, but honestly, your brain melted out of your head two rounds ago, and now you just want to come again.

"w— we can't, simon," you whimper, your body tingling pleasantly all over from his relentless thrusts. he growls softly at that and comes to a halt, pressing kisses to your cheek when you let out a sob, desperate for him to keep going.

"you know what i want, love. c'mon, don't you wanna make me a daddy again?" he purrs, punching a moan out of you as he picks up the speed again. it's so obvious he's dangling your orgasm in front of you in order to get you to agree, and if you were any more lucid, you'd call him out, but right now all you can think about is how close you are. who can blame you for giving in?

he smiles a little meanly when you mewl something out that sounds close to come inside me, his hands wrapping around your thighs to pull you in closer to him as he really begins to pound you into the bed. you've lost your fight faster than expected, but he's not complaining. whatever his missus wants, she gets.

(he pretends to be concerned when later on in the week you tell him you've missed your period with a scowl on your face. acts surprised when you present a positive pregnancy test and snickers when you smack his arm after he hums and says, "how'd that 'appen?" like he didn't fill you up a total of three times that night, just to make sure it took.)

[tracksuitlesbian]

[vicstenius]

England men r saur ugerly not u tho arsenal

[tvmusiclife]

the fact this is their highest finish in an Olympics is kind of insane 🤯

[horrorcrypt12]

OMFG!!!! With seconds left! Hell yeah!!!

[whitetail-doe-femme]

How often do you think Alfred looks up at the portrait of his late lovers in the sitting room of Wayne Manor, deeply inhales, and says, "Our boy.... is testing me again"

[whenweallvote]

The U.S Women’s Rugby team and Ilona Maher won Team USA’s first Olympic medal in women’s rugby! 🥳🥉

Didn’t make the Olympics cut this year? That’s ok, there’s still time to get in the most important race in 2024. Sign up with your #VotingSquad now to compete across the country at weall.vote/voting-squad.

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Summer Olympic AU Pt 2

To Kara's surprise, the next time she runs into L. Luthor is not at the cafeteria of the olympic village, but rather the massage suite the next morning. While waiting for her appt she scours the internet for info on the fencer. She learns her name is Lena, and that she's been fencing competitively since the age of 10, went to MIT at only 15 yrs old, and--

"Checking in for Lena Luthor?" comes a soft murmur, drifting to Kara's ears from the receptionist desk.

Kara's head shoots up, and stares at Lena in cotton shorts and a loose muscle tank over a black sports bra. Large sunglasses perch on her head, nestled on glossy black hair tucked into a ponytail.

The receptionist says something back, and Lena nods, then turns to find a seat in the waiting area. She stops when she meets Kara's gaze, staring back for a heavy beat before lifting an expressive eyebrow.

Kara flushes. "Sorry," she mutters, leaning back in her seat.

"You were at quals."

"Um, yeah. I met Siobhan earlier yesterday--"

"My condolences," Lena returns drolly. She moves to sit, and a low thrum sparks in Kara's belly when Lena chooses the seat directly to Kara's left.

Kara swallows nervously. "You were amazing yesterday."

"It was only qualifications," comes the succinct response, as though that fact somehow made it less impressive.

"And you qualed," Kara points out. "Not everyone does. Obviously."

Lena smirks. "Obviously." Green eyes scan Kara, chin tilting pensively. "Volleyball?"

"Rugby. We start tomorrow."

"Congratulations."

"Thanks!" Kara grins, unable to contain her pride in herself and her team. "You should come watch!"

Lena's eyebrow lifts again.

"Oh! I mean. If you can. If you want."

Finally, Lena's lips curl into a smirk. "I just might."

The next day, Kara nearly trips over her own feet as she trots onto the pitch and sees Lena stationed in the first few rows on the USA side. She manages to keep herself upright, and grins when Lena laughs. When Lena's hand lifts in a wave and a thumbs up for good luck, Kara knows the gold is gonna be hers.

[the-football-chick]

Team USA rugby player and bronze medalist Ilona Maher showing women can have a soft side and a GTFO the way side.

[teeth-draws]

Chase suffers in love but the other Norms still let him come to their little photoshoot

[faustianfascination]

U fckin wot mate

[1tbls]

Esprit de Corps - When [Kim's] finished with the front page, he scans the local box scores. The Stormers lost again, 17-32. He shakes his head and checks his watch. It's time to get back to it...

Kim Kitsuragi - "*You* could reach the Coalition and have your talk about *la responsabilité*... *I* could grow 10 centimetres and become a flanker for the Stormers."

Titus Hardie - "The Stormers can't play for shit."

so kim is canonically a fan of a team called the "stormers"? guessing rugby based on "flanker".

mileage may vary on "fan". based on titus' line too, i am envisioning them as revachol's absolutely dogshit home team that every vacholiere has a long-suffering fondness for...

[transparentdreamruins]

📷 samheughan IG

[brodygold]

Sweet Changes

Tom wasn’t sure why he found himself in the sports store. The Golden Army had promised an unforgettable, transformative experience, but all the self-described nerd felt so far was doubt. He meandered through the aisles, his eyes scanning racks of jerseys, cleats, and equipment, hoping something—anything—would stand out.

“Looking for something, bro?” a voice called from behind.

Tom turned to see a tall, athletic man in a sleek golden soccer jersey. The guy had a magnetic confidence, his muscles flexing casually under the fabric. The name tag pinned to his chest read Brody. He embodied everything Tom had ever wanted: strength, charisma, and a powerful presence that drew others in.

“Oh, uh... no thanks,” Tom stammered, shifting his weight nervously. “Just browsing.”

Brody smirked, his gaze piercing yet warm. “I know that look, man. You’re where I was once. Let me help you out.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like a thick gold bar. “Here, take this.”

Tom frowned, eyeing the strange object in Brody’s hand. It looked metallic, but the scent that wafted from it was unmistakably chocolate. “What... what is that?”

“Call it a free sample. Helps people feel like they belong around here.”

Tom hesitated, but the enticing smell hooked him. His sweet tooth won over his caution, and he broke off a piece. As soon as the candy hit his tongue, warmth spread through his body, flooding him with an almost electric energy.

In seconds, his chest swelled, muscles rippling and expanding as his shirt and vest shredded off his body. Tom gasped, watching in shock as his arms grew thick and powerful, his entire torso now straining under the weight of muscle that hadn’t been there moments before. A gold rugby jersey materialized over his new frame, fitting like it had been made just for him.

His legs transformed next, his skinny dress pants giving way to tight gold rugby shorts that hugged his now massive tree trunks. Three of them if you count his new massive package, which grew from 4 to 8 inches.

But the changes didn’t stop at his body. His mind began to shift too. Calculus formulas, tech jargon, and all the knowledge he’d prided himself on slowly drained away. His IQ plummeted, leaving only primal, simpler desires in its wake. Rugby. Team. Bros. Hot dudes. Tom’s lips curled into a smug grin as he imagined sweaty post-game showers, bonding with his teammates, savoring every moment with them.

He flexed his arms, marveling at his transformation, feeling the irresistible pull of the team. The self-doubt that had haunted him moments ago vanished, replaced by a cocky confidence he had never known.

Brody watched with a knowing smile. “How you feeling, bro?”

Tom’s grin widened as he looked at Brody, no longer shy or uncertain. “Ready to serve the team, bro. Gotta get to practice soon.”

“Thought so.” Brody reached over and tossed him a rugby ball, which Tom caught effortlessly. “Here, take this. And if you’re really up for it... grab some more of that candy. I bet there are some bros out there who could use it.”

Tom chuckled, the arrogance in his voice clear now. “Oh, I know just the guys.” He grabbed another bar of the golden candy, already imagining the look on his friends’ faces when he handed it to them.

Brody clapped him on the back, a grin of approval. “That’s what I like to hear, bro. Go share the love.”

With his head high and his body buzzing with power, Tom turned and strode confidently out of the store. He had a team to serve—and some bros to give some sweet changes.

[tvmusiclife]

born to be a girl who watches the Olympics all day, forced to be a girl who works 9 to 5