#went with baseball instead of football

[nervousgardenerkid]

Hello! I love your writing! Could you do a request of Steve Harrington and reader going to a football game and the kiss cam won’t leave them alone so eventually they kiss for the first time?

Kiss her you fool

a/n: im baaackk!! sorry i went MIA for a while, i just had a lot of things going on. i don't know much about football games cause i'm a baseball gal but i imagine it's slightly the same??😭😭i hope you enjoy what my brain came up with! happy reading and credit to the gif owner!

warnings: none! i decided to make this another modern au cause why not lol. no pronouns were used in this story so everyone can read! the title is just from a song and i thought it'd be fitting

Steve watched with excited eyes as you stood up to cheer as your team scored yet another touchdown. He knew what was going on, he just wasn't much of a football guy. Basketball was his favorite sport but he'd sit through a hundred football games if it meant he could see you acting like this.

“Did you see that touchdown, Steve?!”

He lets out a hum, his eyes falling back onto the field as he watches the grown men tackle each other and run to the person who has the ball. His brain tries to recall old memories of his father explaining the rules of football to him, but they're all coming up as a blur. Now, this wasn't his ideal first date but he saw how excited you for at school games so he figured your excitement would be times ten.

He was right. You stand out of your seat shouting curses at the referee as he made a call you and the fans didn't agree with.

“Fuck you, ref! My grandma is blind and could see that shit!”

Steve chuckles as he watches you slump into your seat fixing the hat that was resting on your head. Steve likes you a lot. He likes that you're not as nervous as he is, he admires that. People begin to stand from their seats going to get some more beer and food as the teams got ready for the next quarter.

“Hey, did you want some more food?” he asks you whole digging into his pocket for his card.

You shake your head, your lips leaving the water bottle he got you earlier.

“I'm fine. Hey, thanks for bringing me here by the way! I'm sure you'd rather come with your friends instead.”

Steve chuckles at the thought of him here with his friends. “Yeah, cause Dustin is a huge fan of sports.”

You giggle, gently nudging him with your shoulder. “You know what I mean, but this is an amazing first date!”

His smile gets wide. “Yeah?”

“Definitely! A great game and a cute guy? I'm the luckiest person in the world right now.”

Steve opens his mouth but stops when he hears the crowd start to cheer and clap loudly. His eyes drift to the huge screen displayed for the audience to see and his heart drops as the words kiss cam are flashing on the screen. As much as he'd love to kiss you, it wasn't ideal for him to do it with literally thousands of people watching.

The crowd lets out an awe as the camera pans over to a happy family, the parents kissing the baby’s cheeks causing her to smile and clap.

“I think I'm gonna get us some more food.” he nervously chuckles. He starts to stuff his phone in his pocket when you look over at him.

“Okay, I'll go with you!” you cheer out while standing up.

Steve begins to protest, assuring you that he can get the food himself when you gasp and point at the screen. The two of you are on there for the whole stadium to see and Steve feels like he has a giant target on his back. His face gets hot and he nervously hides his face behind his hands slowly sinking into the chair. You giggle and poke at his chest trying to get his attention back on you.

“Awe Steve! I didn't know you'd be so nervous!”

He shakes his head and peeks from behind his fingers letting out a groan when the camera is still on you two. You laugh and shake your head signaling the camera to find some other random couple.

Steve peeks once again, a sigh of relief leaving his body as the camera shows another couple.

“You know, if you didn't want to kiss me you could've said no.” you tease.

“It's not that I don't want to kiss you, I do. I just...not in front of the whole stadium. I mean, that guy got booed for kissing his girlfriend on the cheek!”

“To be fair, she did lean in for an actual kiss.”

“Yeah, poor girl.” Steve sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I want to kiss you, I'm just nervous. I really like you and first dates already make me nervous, but a first date with you? I'm surprised it hasn't gone up in flames yet! I mean, sure I accidentally parked in a handicapped spot but that officer was rude for no fucking reason and-”

“Steve,” you said while grabbing his face. “I'm nervous too.”

“You are?” he asked with his cheeks still squished.

“Of course I am! You're Steve Harrington, girls talk a big game when it comes to you.”

His cheeks heat underneath your touch and his eyes are on everything but you.

“‘M not like that anymore. You got the new and improved Steve.”

You hum. “Can new and improved Steve kiss me?”

“Yeah, yeah he can definitely do that.”

Suddenly everyone around you disappears and it's just you and Steve, and god his lips feel so fucking nice on yours. Hearing about how good Steve is at kissing is one thing, but now that you're experiencing it you're happy to say that the rumors are true. Steve Harrington is a damn good kisser. The way his hand holds the back of your neck is so gentle, but the hand that's gripping your hip trying to bring you closer is what makes the butterflies swarm in your tummy.

Steve gets annoyed with the armrest that separates you two and has you faced at a weird angle, so he swiftly moves you from your seat to his lap, smiling when he hears you gasp. You both pull away panting for air with hooded eyes and rosy cheeks.

“Damn, what's a woman gotta do to get kissed like that?” an older woman next to you mumbled to herself. Your eyes widen and you look around you to see everyone’s eyes on you.

“Looks like they got their kiss,” Steve mumbles while pointing at the big screen that has you both on there.

“HELL YEAH MAN! GET ALL ON THAT!” a man shouts while clapping his hands. The crowd starts to cheer and whistle at the two of you while you rush off of his lap and back into your seat. You hide your face in your hands and men cheer for Steve and pat his back or shoulders, and you try your hardest not to laugh when women are asking you if he has an older brother.

Steve turns to you with a bashful smile on his face and clears his throat.

“Look, I really like you. I'm not saying you have to be with me right after this date, we can go as slow as you'd like.”

His eyes fall to his hands, too nervous to look at you any longer.

“If I'm being honest I’d wait for fucking ever if it meant I could call you mine.”

“Keep talking like that Steve and I’ll be yours by the end of this game.” you say with a smile on your face and your hand resting in his. Steve opens his mouth to say something but stops when a high pitched voice interrupts him.

“Ugh, why can't you talk to me like that Harold?!”

“Samantha, I'm trying to watch the game.”

"You always watch the game!"

"God, I need another beer."

You and Steve turn to the arguing couple that sits behind you before you both turn back to each other.

“We should probably go get that food.” Steve said, holding back a chuckle.

“Yeah, yeah we should.”

[boredmadamoiselle]

Loving him was red 

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Female reader

Synopsis: You surprise your boyfriend Carlos before his home race with an unusual outfit to support him.

Warnings: Smut, oral

Author's note: English isn't my first language, probably it contains some mistakes. I tried my best but if you want to correct or help me, you are welcome.

It was race day. Carlos had already woken up and gone to the circuit alone. You were used to going together but that morning to Carlos' surprise you had told him to go on without you and that you would join him later.

In fact, that wasn’t an ordinary race for your boyfriend, but a special one: his home race.

Carlos was obviously happy to be racing in his country – it was such an honor for him – but at the same time you knew he was feeling a lot of pressure. As him and Fernando Alonso were the only Spanish drivers on the grid, all eyes were on them this weekend. The entire Spain was cheering for them and wanted one of them to win. Winning at home would have been a dream come true for Carlos. So, of course he wanted to win. But, more than ever, he wanted to make his people – his fans, his family and you – proud of him. 

Yesterday, during qualifying, he had managed to get the pole and it certainly helped, but, as Carlos had said, the race was today and that was all that mattered, so he had to win today. 

As always you were there to support your boyfriend, but for the occasion you wanted to do something different than usual and surprise him. A few weeks ago, you had decided you would show him your support and your love in the best and original way possible. That day you would be his number one supporter. 

For that reason, you had told him you had things to do but the truth was you needed to be alone to wrap your gift for him: yourself. Or better, to get ready.

You were looking at yourself in the mirror satisfied with the result. Having Carlos racing for Ferrari meant you often wore red, especially at the official events you went with him and to the races. It was your personal way to support him and Carlos loved that color on you, especially if you were wearing something sexy. You always left him speechless and couldn’t keep his hands to himself. 

That day you weren't just wearing innocent red lipstick or red lingerie under your clothes. You were wearing Carlos’ race suit, or almost. Indeed, it was identical to the one Carlos usually wore and the same one that had walked a few months ago at the Milan Fashion Week. When you had seen it, you had wanted one for yourself immediately. Carlos instead had loved the idea of seeing you wearing it and of course taking it off. But that was the first time you wore it in public. 

You had slightly customized the outfit to make it more fashionable and to look less like a driver. You had put on a black belt to highlight your waistline and wore a pair of black cowboy boots. Then, you completed the look with a black baseball cap, an oversized black blazer, your Kelly bag of the same color and some accessories. You loved the final result: it was sporty but chic at the same time. You couldn’t wait to see Carlos face: that outfit would drive him crazy. But more than anything, you couldn't wait for him to take it off like you had done with him so many times after races. Just the thought turned you on. 

By the time you arrived at the circuit, it was less than an hour before the start of the race, so Carlos was probably finishing getting ready or warming up. 

As you walked into the paddock, people stopped looking at you and commenting your look while photographers took pictures of you. 

You found both Carlos and Charles playing football behind the motorhome. They were already wearing their race suits. While your boyfriend didn’t see you coming, the Monegasque did and stopped playing. 

“Nice suit, Y/n”, Charles said hinting at you. 

Visibly confused, Carlos turned around to look at you and his face immediately lit up. When he noticed the race suit, his expression went from surprise to desire. 

You smiled at him as he walked up to you. 

“So, what do you think?” You turned around to better show the outfit. 

“Beautiful, mi amor! But do you want to steal my job?” You loved when he called you like that and hearing him speak Spanish always turned you on. 

Although Charles was a few meters away from you, he kissed you passionately. His hands on your back held you pressed against him and you could feel his erection already pushing against his clothes. 

Charles cleared his throat. “I'll leave you to your warmup, mate. Don’t be late”, he said walking away. 

Shortly after, Carlos broke the kiss and looked at you maliciously. “Let’s go inside. I haven't quite warmed up yet and I think you can help me with that.”

Without thinking, you nodded and followed him. 

Once inside his room, you ended up sandwiched between his body and the door, while Carlos wasted no time pulling you in for a bruising kiss. He moved down, kissing down your neck and leaving marks on it. With Carlos pressed up against you and his fingers running up and down your hips, you started to feel your own arousal. 

“Cariño, you look so good in this outfit, but at the same time you have no idea how hard it is not to rip it off right now”, he whispered. 

The contact with your skin and those words were enough to make you moan but you tried to remain silent by remembering where you were. You didn't want to create a scandal just before the race even if the others probably knew what was going on in there. 

While Carlos was still kissing you, his hands took off your belt and unzipped your suit. His eyes, full of desire for you, flickered from your lips to the rest of your body. He smirked at the sight of you wearing nothing less than his favorite red lacy underwear underneath. He rubbed his fingers over your pussy, through your soaked panties, while the other hand was on your breast. 

“Already so wet for me, cariño, and I haven't done anything yet”, Carlos whispered between kisses. 

The sensation of his fingers sliding over the fabric was insane and made you shiver. He slipped his fingers under the waistband and rubbed slow circles on your clit. 

As much as you wanted him to continue, you stopped him and removed his hand from your pussy. He immediately looked at you confused. Before he could speak, you put his fingers into your mouth and sucked them. Your eyes fixed on his while you tasted yourself. 

“Oh, Y/n, you’ll drive me crazy. Look what you are doing to me”, he said hinting at his hardness.

Without saying anything, you lowered his zip. Then, you put your hands on his chest and gently pushed him onto the bed. 

“I know you have been under a lot of stress over the past few days and I am here to ease that tension, so today it’s all about you, mi amor. I want you to relax”, you simply said. 

You kissed him once more before sinking down to your knees in front of him. You tugged his clothes down to let his cock free. Your mouth watered at the sight of him and you wasted no time taking him into your hand, stroking him slowly. You bent over, sticking your tongue out to lick the side of his cock.

“Oh, princesa”, he hissed and pushed back your hair when your lips wrapped around him, taking all of it down your throat while your eyes were staring up at him. 

Every time you were amazed at how big his cock was and how it filled you properly. Only he could do that. 

Carlos was a gentleman and he always liked to treat you like a queen, but at that moment there was no time for pleasantries. You felt his hand rest on the back of your head as he started to thrust up into your mouth, fucking your throat. 

On the other side, you loved that side of him: rough and dominant. However, even in that situation, it was still you who dominated, who had the power in your hands, or rather in your mouth.

When he came into your mouth, you showed him and swallowed it. You knew he secretly loved that. 

“Good girl.”

With his taste still in your mouth, he took your face in his hands and kissed you.

He glanced at the clock above the door.  “Fuck, I have to go, princesa”, he whispered. 

“Then go and win so you can finish unpacking your gift later, my champion”. 

“Oh, baby, I think I’ll fuck you anyway, but I really hope to win”. 

Five minutes later you were ready to leave the room. Carlos was about to open the door when he turned around to look at you. 

“I love that this jumpsuit makes the fact that you are mine even more evident”, he whispered. 

You raised your eyes to the ceiling, but you actually loved letting others know you were his. 

Two hours later, Carlos won his home race and, like a child on Christmas morning, he couldn't wait to unpack his gift.

[chrisbitchtree]

Farrah

For years, Billy's dreamed of dressing up like Farrah Fawcett for Halloween, and finally, he's getting his chance.

***

The year Billy turned nine, Charlie’s Angels premiered. One night, he walked into the living room after he was supposed to be in bed to find his mom watching it. Neil was working late that night, and sometimes, when he worked late, Billy’s mom would let him watch tv with her, as long as he was quiet. He’d pulled back the covers and tiptoed down the hall, and what he saw on the screen enthralled him immediately.

Three beautiful women, fighting bad guys while all dressed up. He slunk up to his mom and sat down by her side, quiet as a mouse. He couldn’t take his eyes off the blond, with her feathered hair and beautiful eyeshadow. It was almost October, so when the show cut to commercial break, he turned to his mom and asked her if he could be that woman for Halloween. She’d been bugging him to pick out his costume, so she would be happy that he’d finally made a decision.

Instead, she frowned slightly, asking him if maybe he’d like to be Superman or a football player instead.

“No,” he’d said, shaking his head. “I want to be her.” He pointed at the woman who he would later learn was named Farrah Fawcett.

“I’m sorry, baby,” she’d replied. “You can’t go out like that. You know your dad would like it if you went as a sports star, or maybe a cowboy! Remember that hat you pointed out at the store last week?”

Billy now deeply regretted the cowboy hat he’d pointed out, practically begging her to buy it for him, so he could dress up like the Lone Ranger. He wanted his mom to feather his hair and put pink lipstick on him. He wanted to wear tiny little shorts and boots and fight crime. His mom wouldn’t hear his arguments though, so he ended up wearing his baseball uniform, much to the delight of his mother. It didn’t feel right though. It never felt right.

***

Even in their late teens, the residents of Hawkins took their Halloween costumes seriously, starting the planning for them months in advance. Chrissy had first brought up the topic of costumes in July, deciding that it would be a great idea to do group costumes. She declared that she, Heather, and Robin would go as Charlie’s Angels, and Billy, Steve, and Eddie would go as the Three Stooges.

Everyone was really excited except Billy and Robin, but Billy loved how into his costume Steve was getting, so he didn’t say anything. Robin had no such qualms about upsetting her girlfriend though. She kept complaining to Heather that the shorts Chrissy had picked out for her were too short, and the top was too low cut. Every time she was asked to try it on, so that Heather and Chrissy could make sure that everything looked just as it should, she would wriggle around, pulling at the fabric, saying she felt like she was practically naked.

Billy would look longingly at the outfit and the feathered wig, trying not to be too obvious as his mind wandered, images of himself in that same outfit flashing through his mind. He was going as Larry, and the bland grey suit and ugly wig had him down in the dumps. Steve and Eddie were so excited that he didn’t say anything though.

One such night, Billy and Robin were tasked with picking up pizza for dinner. They set out in the Camaro, and as they drove, Robin brought up the subject of the costumes. “I can’t believe they’re making me wear that hideous outfit,” she huffed, slumped down in her seat, arms crossed.

“I wish my costume was that nice,” Billy mumbled, rolling his eyes. He couldn’t help it, the jealously was seeping through. It was just so frustrating that Robin couldn’t see how cool her outfit was. She was lucky to get to go as such a beautiful badass.

“What?” Robin asked, turning towards him.

His cheeks heated up with a blush. He hadn’t meant for Robin to hear him complaining. “Nothing,” he said, eyes focused on the road ahead, hands clutching the steering wheel.

Suddenly her eyes got large. “Billy, do you want to be Farrah Fawcett for Halloween?”

“No, of course not, Buckley,” he snapped, shaking his head. “Why would I want to dress up as Farrah Fawcett? I’m a guy.”

The corner of Robin’s mouth curved with a small smile. “There’s nothing wrong with playing dress up, you know that, right, Billy? I personally think you’d look beautiful. And I’m sure Steve would too. Do you by any chance want to trade costumes? I’d much rather wear a suit than a tiny little shorts. Really, you’d be doing me a favour.”

“Sure,” Billy said slowly, after thinking about it for a moment. Robin was giving him an out, a way to make it seem like he was just switching costumes for her. “I’ll do it, but only as a favour for you, Buckley.”

They picked up the pizza and headed back to Steve’s. As they were sitting around the living room, eating the last of the pizza, Robin told the rest of the group the plan. “As soon as I said I was uncomfortable, Billy, great guy that he is, offered to swap costumes with me!”

Everyone looked at her in mild confusion, trying to figure out if she was talking about the same cranky asshole that they knew so well, but in the end they all shrugged, agreeing with the new plan. “It doesn’t matter to me,” Chrissy said, smiling. “I’ll be fun to get Billy all dolled up! He won’t even need a wig!”

Billy smiled, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder as the other boy wrapped his arm around him and pulled Billy in close, kissing the top of his head. “That was really nice of you, Billy. I’m sure Robin really appreciates it. And you’re going to look gorgeous in those short shorts. I just know it.”

***

After some searching in Chicago, Chrissy and Heather had managed to find booty shorts and too white boots in his size. They paired it with a white bikini top they’d found in a thrift shop and declared his costume complete.

His jaw dropped the first time he tried the whole outfit on. He felt gorgeous, and like his dream was finally coming true, even if it was ten years late. He started a countdown to Halloween on his calendar, elated when the day finally arrived.

He sat still as a statue on Heather’s bathroom counter as Chrissy and Heather blew out his hair, feathering the sides, and then applied makeup to his face. Frosty blue eyeshadow and soft pink blush, coating his lips with lipstick, almost the same shade as Farrah wore on the show.

They didn’t look in the mirror the whole time, but he sat patiently as he could, knowing it would be more fun to look at himself once he had his costume on. As soon as they were done, he hopped off the counter and ran into her room to pull his outfit on. He’d shaved his legs for the occasion, and the thin nylons slid up his legs smooth as butter. He wriggled into the shorts, zipped up the boots and then Heather came in and tied the halter straps on the bikini top for him.

“Ok, are you ready to see yourself?” She asked with a flourish, turning him around so he faced the mirror.

His eyes snapped open, growing large as he walked closer to the mirror, taking himself in from all angles. He was unable to keep the grin off his face. He felt beautiful, more so than he ever had before. He heard a wolf whistle and turned around, finding Steve, framed in the doorway, grey suit, and curly wig on his head, staring at Billy like he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

“You look stunning, baby,” he whispered as he approached Billy, wrapping his arms around him from behind. He no doubt, just the same as Billy, was imagining what fun they’d have in bed that night as Steve peeled Billy’s costume off after the party.

Billy grinned, placing his hands over Steve’s. “Thank you, pretty boy,” he whispered back, staring at their reflection. He did feel stunning, but more than that, he finally felt right.

[chocolatechimsugakookie2]

Random Headcanons for 4*Town

Yes Aaron T is amazing at skateboarding, but I have this feeling that Z and Jesse are pretty good as well and slightly Tae, but baby has no tricks.

They take late night trips to whatever gas station and buy all the snacks

The group likes to play fight!! You would definitely see two or three…. Or all members wrestling on the floor, but don’t worry it nothing serious or personal!! (sometimes Jesse, Tae, and T have to pull Z and Robaire apart because their “play fight” will start to look a bit too real👀 but it never is because the rival is just a joke🥹)

Whenever a 4Town song comes on they act like they don’t know who that is and makes fun of them😂

“Yo, y’all hear this mess? Is this what they call music? I’m disappointed… disgusted even”

“I think it’s that lil boy group 4City? 4Village? This shit trash”

“They don’t turn my tummy the way you do??? Sounds like kids bop to me”

“Yeah I heard about them, their shit ass for real”

“And why the hell they got 5 members? They can’t can’t count or something?”

They have movie nights every now and then and they always talk about their thoughts on the movie afterwards! (And if someone fell asleep during the movie they still get woken up even if they only saw 20 mins of it😭)

T makes them watch shows like family guy

As the two tallest Z and Jesse have a habit of holding things above their heads to make the other members mad!

They play games like “nose goes” and “1 2 3 not it” to see who is taking out the trash or getting the mail or answering the door and who is cooking (most of the times they have set dates for who cooks)

They also play those games if they’re at a restaurant and they are trying to figure out who is paying the bill, but that’s if they don’t do it together

I like to think in the beginning of their career they lived in an apartment/condo together and then after their 3rd almost 4th year of being together they moved to a mansion they got built for them!

I hate to put this here but once they disband, I feel the day everyone is packing, T will say he is going to keep the 4Town mansion instead of moving out and grow his family there! He doesn’t want the house full of memories to go to some stranger because they will never be able to visit it anymore so he is keeping and all the boys are happy he is!

They will literally talk in accents to be funny especially T and Jesse

They totally have like two trampolines let’s be honest here

Tae and T jumps on the other members backs when they least expect it (whenever they jump on Jesse’s back Z and Robaire always have something to say!! “y’all better chill he barely can carry himself with his old bones”. “The moment you jumped all I heard was a bunch of cracks”)

They all can be literal children and race each other to the car especially to see who gets shotgun

Z likes to buck at the members as if he is gonna fight them and it’s so funny

T lovesss doing parkour! Whenever they go to a park this man is jumping and flipping off many things! It sometimes scares random people and they leave👀

Ro bumps into people on purpose and says “oh! sorry didn’t see you there” but we know he totally did

If you walk into Jesse’s art studio without knocking he will throw pieces of clay or flick paint at you with no regrets

When they go to places like the mall they split up into two groups one of 3 and the other of 2!

They randomly choose who goes with who each time but T always have to be in whatever group Jesse is in because they will get caught if not

Ro, T, Tae, and Z talk about people (specifically the other members) in their other language.

Since Jesse learned Korean for Tae, they both talk about people

Z put everyone on to smoothie bowls!! he started making them a few years ago after his workouts, and he never went back. Now all the members love it.

They have certain days where they go out to their backyard and play different games like American football, soccer, kickball, baseball.

Whenever they play basketball together, they’re always fighting to see who will be on Z’s team since he’s the absolute best and knows his team will win 😌

I feel like this picture of Taehyung is definitely a pose T, Jesse, or Tae would do🤷🏽‍♀️ with a disposable camera 😁 (I canon Tae as 18 and T as 19, so the glass is sparkling cider)

[thesmokingguns]

Winner, Winner Hot Dog dinner

Nikki did not get why Peach liked sports so much. He didn’t understand why she always begged to go to basketball, hockey, baseball games depending on the sport. Even football games with the guys she would tag along cheering on whoever was on that year's fantasy lineup.

The one year Nikki had joined a fantasy league she had taken over as general manager and taken them to the championship game. He didn’t get the whole rah-rah sports thing but having peach this excited about something was worth sitting through anything.

That’s why in a Wednesday night they were at a basketball game, courtside as Peach wore the opposing teams jersey and kept Nikki on his toes thinking she was going to fist fight one of the men jeering at her.

There had been several moments in their relationship that Nikki had really thought she was going to give him a heart attack but tonight might just be ten nights she succeeded in offing him.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!?” She was standing up on the high heels Nikki had just bought her as a gift. Her jeans so tights he wondered if they had scissors in the LA condo they owned because he surely would need to cut them off her body. The green jersey was tucked in and Peach was looking at a red ready to go to jail to defend her team.

Nikki ordered another hot dog and pretended the lunatic wasn’t his.

He had just flown back from doing press in New York when Peach had surprised him at the airport. Nikki had been looking forward to a romantic night soaking in the bath and being lavished with her love. Instead she was boarding the jet and telling him about their plans for LA for a few days.

Nikki wanted to complain but it was so rare that Peach asked to go somewhere he had to just pull her on his lap and kiss her in the small space.

The basketball game that they had to drive to in rush hour traffic to make it on time had Nikki so frustrated that he had to close his eyes and take what peach called a grandpa nap on the way.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom, I'll be right back.” Peach pressed a red kipper kiss to his cheek before walking towards the bathroom before he could even think.

It was halftime and the mascot was doing some trick as Nikki thought about how good a hot dog tasted. He didn’t realize that Peach was up to something until ten minutes went by and the girl hadn’t come back yet.

Shit.

Nikki looked around to see if she had stopped to talk to someone but all he saw was the mascot bumbling around the court and headed straight for him.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Nikki was mid last bite when he appeared on the Jumbotron with the song Girls, Girls, Girls playing. Sure enough the cheerleaders came over and Nikki thought about how he was going to kill peach. She was well aware that he hated all the attention.

It got worse when he saw that peach was walking back towards him and seemed to not know what was going on. Nikki realized this was not her doing and felt bad for the thoughts of ringing her neck he had.

But as she sat beside him the mascot came over, dripping to his knee as a heart with Peach and Nikki appeared on the Jumbotron and the mascot opened a ring that Nikki had definitely not given him.

Before he could explain to Peach that this wasn’t him he saw her looking at the man who was sitting to her left and point at him.

The audience was laughing now, thinking this was all a big joke or that she was teasing Nikki about marriage but there was a gasp when the man stood up, picking the ring up and dropping to his knee in front of his girlfriend.

The mascot shrugged, sliding over and the heart kiss cam was off Nikki and peach for the time being.

Nikki’s heart was beating so loudly he thought he would need to be wheeled out of the staples center in the back of an ambulance. He didn’t want to even look at Peach and see her disappointment of not getting a ring.

They had spoken About marriage before and he thought they were on the same page but now he was worried that she was hurt seeing the proposal.

But Peach was still holding his hand.

“Well, you’re going to be a meme.” He blinked at her words, turning to see her smile and knowing she was teasing him.

Nikki had to smile with her because he had no idea that she wasn’t wrong,

[biolizardboils]

Underpanniversary mont September is almost over, so here’s one last headcanon dump for the road

General

The entire book series takes place in a single school year. The following is my vain attempt at cramming everything into that timeframe in a way that makes sense

The football game in Book 1 was the kickoff and happened in early August. The 4-to-6 weeks before the Ring arrived was really just 4 weeks, minimizing the Boys' slave labor and placing Captain's first day on duty in early September (not exactly the 1st but close enough)

Book 6 canonically happens during the cold and flu season (so late autumn), making it the halfway point of the school year and the series. (I just realized that it’s never shown snowing in modern-day Piqua? Maybe it only happened while the Boys were on winter break)

In Book 11, Krupp mentions there’s 7 weeks of school left. Summer break usually starts in mid-to-late May; subtracting 7 weeks from that places Book 11 in early-to-mid April

Book 12 happens in May. The Rid-O-Kid incident and sudden lack of gym teacher forced the school to close for damage control, then hold a half-day to do the yay-you’re-moving-up-a-grade stuff. (And yes, this means Captain Underpants Pizza Party didn’t happen and is merely a wistful fantasy 😔)

Also said school year is 1997-1998 (except for when I bring up any media that came out after that) because this is my post and I make the anachronisms

The Boys

Harold raises Sea Monkeys as snacks for his and George's pets

Speaking of their pets, they are NOT to be put in the same room together. George's are cats, Harold's are fish. Can I make it any more obvious

George had to stay home sick for a whole week once. when he finally came back to school, he walked in with this blasting on this boombox

George's fave computer game is Star Wars: Behind the Magic, Harold's is Insaniquarium (first the browser version, then Deluxe way later), and they both love Backyard Baseball

George's fave Disney film is A Goofy Movie. Harold didn’t have a favorite until middle school when Treasure Planet came out

The boys took Captain to see Hercules in theaters. He declared it the greatest movie of all time, so they bought it on VHS and played it in the treehouse whenever he asked. The boys kept it long after 4th grade and watched it whenever they missed him

They used to think boy bands were weird and girls were weird for liking them... until Heidi got into the Backstreet Boys. Harold caught The Fever from hearing her play their songs in the house, and George caught it from him. Their favorite song is Answer To Our Life

Harold would later joke that him catching The Fever should’ve been his wake-up call lol

The Old!Boys

In college they held a dorm party and made Jungle Juice in a (fully sanitized!!!) toilet so they could flush away the evidence after. And also just for laffs

Their kids go to Stubinville Elementary. It’s farther away and they have to take a bus, but it’s got generally better teachers than Jerome Horwitz. Go Stinkbugs

They wrote a letter to Krupp about what they did to him in 4th grade, but never sent it

Other

The Boys' parents didnt realize their families had blended together for years. It finally hit them when they asked Grandma and Grandpa to synchronize their visits. They were like "....Huh." and then went right back to setting the table

Other things both families do together: bills, carpooling, cooking, movie nights, fishing, picnics, holiday card photos at the mall

The Beards have a record player and a vinyl collection of every funk and R&B hit from 1968 to 1989. They always have one playing as background noise in the mornings and evenings. (The Hutchins like to play MTV instead)

Heidi goes to a preschool halfway across town. Robbie Hoskins (the little boy whose mom never believes him) goes there too

The Boys plan on being Heidi’s bodyguards when she starts kindergarten at Jerome Horwitz. No one’s gonna give her trouble, student or teacher, if they can help it

She can’t get in the Treehouse—not cus the Boys won’t let her, but cus she’s too small to safely climb the ladder 😔 Some day she'll get in there and eat all the hidden junk food, but not yet

I diagnose Melvin with EXTREME Gifted Kid Burnout post-canon lmao. He ends up going to the same community college as the Boys and they finally bury the hatchet there

Switching to paragraphs for this last one:

Long ago, when Krupp first started out as a principal, him and all the staff fell victim to an impossibly elaborate prank. He was excited to write his first detention slip and grilled the whole student body to find the culprit. 

After threatening to hold them hostage past the last bell, a dirty blonde boy in 2nd grade came up to him and claimed responsibility. Krupp locked him in the detention room and looked for his parents' number in the school directory, but couldn't find anything under his last name. 

Just then, he heard the kid make this noise. He stormed back to the detention room and opened it to yell at him... but the kid had vanished. The only sign he’d been there was his slip on the floor.

Krupp framed it in his office to preserve a milestone in his career, and vowed to crush that kid's spirit the next day.

But he never appeared at the school again.

[springgirlwaiting4fall]

You Distracting Eddie Kingston During a Yankees Game

Eddie was a sports guy, if New York had a team he was routing for them. Football was the giants, hockey was the rangers, basketball was the nets, and his holy grail was the Yankees.

You however were not a sports fan. You didn’t mind going to a basketball or hockey game every once in a while because you were able to eat all the good treats at the stadiums. Plus Eddie looked so good in his Jersey and baseball hats.

On Sunday afternoon games Eddie and you hosted football get togethers. He supplied the drinks and you were able to try out different recipes. Than in the evening you two would snuggle up and eat the leftovers during your movie pick.

Baseball however was so boring. Not only were the games so long, there was so many games. Sometimes there were games a couple days in a row and Eddie watched them all.

By July you have had enough of the Yankees and with limited time with Eddie you didn’t want to waste another Monday afternoon with him yelling at the tv (no matter how hot it made you).

You let him watch the 1st couple of innings in peace, before getting antsy. At first you tried to distract him by giving him a shoulder rub and hoped that it could turn into a full body massage. Instead the yankee pitcher threw some terrible pitches and when Eddie stood up to yell that he was never going to watch this awful team again, he accidentally head butted your chin.

You went into the kitchen to get some ice. After icing your soon to be bruise and ego you finished the homemade Ice cream cups cakes you made just for Eddie. You brought them out to him and tried to be cute and feed him one. He shoved it in his mouth. With crumbs in his beard telling you “you’re the best sweetheart,” his eyes never leaving the tv.

The frustration was building up to you especially when you looked at the score and saw it was only the top of the 4th. You were going to have step up your game.

Walking into the bedroom you changed out of your regular lounge wear and put on the super cute cheeky boxer briefs yankee underwear Eddie had gotten you as a joke gift for his birthday. You than found one of his yankee jerseys on threw that on as well, before going back out to the living room.

You could feel his eyes on you as you purposely walked in front of the tv to get into the kitchen. “What are you doing?” Eddie’s disdain in his voice made you paused. “Baby that’s a joley Rodriquez Jersey! We traded him to the Mets. You can’t wear that!”

He continued to go on about how you were possibly jinxing the whole season wearing that traders Jerseys as you walked back to the bedroom. You thew the Jersey across the room as soon as you got it off your body. Laying on the bed you took a couple minutes to collect yourself.

This time with your phone in hand you walked in front of the tv, in nothing but your yankee underwear. You grabbed the remote from the coffee table and clicked off the tv. Eddie looked up at you in shock, than his eyes darken when he finally noticed.

You used your phone to turn on the radio app that was calling the game. “Eddie Baby. I love you, but I am so over the Yankees today. So this is what’s going to happen. While you listen to the radio, I’m going to give you the best blow job you ever had. Than I’m going to take a long bath and when I get out. You are going to eat me out until I almost pass out. Next we’re going to fuck and have a late lunch. And not talk or watch the Yankees until you get home from Dynamite. Understand?”

Eddie had never seen you so assertive or bossy and he loved it, plus who could argue with a blow job while listening to his favorite team.

[hughhowey]

The Therapy is the Thing

A year ago this month, I was out wakeboarding with friends in Long Island when I took a spill. When I went down, I was racing out on a wide arc almost ahead of the boat pulling me, doing at least 50mph. The board's edge caught the water, and when I went down, my left arm flew above my head in a way I'd never felt before. Never in 45 years of taking nasty spills. It flew above my head with zero resistance, as if nothing was attached.

The pain set in immediately and lasted for weeks. Then months. Definitely something torn in there. I could barely move it above my head, and I was too weak to do my usual exercises or yoga. Pulling a shirt on was painful. But it wasn't scary. And I knew what to do. I'd been here before.

I tore my right rotator cuff when I was in my late 20s. A week of sports abuse and a terrible fall right on my shoulder (which probably shoved a bone through the muscle) resulted in a 100% tear of one of my four shoulder muscles. This was confirmed years later with an MRI, when the pain became unbearable. I basically just lived with a bum shoulder for over a decade. I could no longer throw footballs or baseballs with friends. I had to play frisbee left handed. I figured it would always be that way.

When I was sailing through New England in my 40s, the pain got so bad I couldn't lift my arm at all. Putting on deodorant entailed placing my right hand flat on a table, taking a big step away from the table to open my armpit, rolling on deodorant, taking a step back.

Putting on a shirt looked like a Harry Houdini routine in reverse.

I went to see a doctor and an MRI confirmed that one of the four muscles was missing. Retracted up into my shoulder. They could go in, pull it down, cut a notch in a bone, and screw it into the bone. I would have to immobilize it for 6-8 weeks and then do 4-6 months of physical therapy. And maybe I'd get 90% of my strength back.

We scheduled the surgery. I sailed north with one arm.

On a wharf one day, I met a newlywed couple and made small talk. The bride was a physical therapist. I mentioned that I'd just gone to meet my new PT and that I was having surgery soon, which was going to put a half-year pause on my circumnavigation.

"The therapy is the thing," she told me. "Not the surgery."

I asked more, and she explained that the surgery didn't do much. The muscle would tear right out of the screw if you relied on the surgery to fix you. It's the immobilization and the gradual strengthening of the other muscles using the bands and exercises the physical therapist would lead me through. If I wanted to, I could skip the surgery and just do the PT. I'd get the same or even better results.

This sounded insane to me. Here was a 20-something fresh out of school telling me the opposite of the best shoulder doctor in Boston, the guy who works on the Celtics' shoulders. But I wanted to believe her. And I realized something: it was free and easy to test her insane idea. The surgery was months out. I bought some bands and started the exercises my PT told me we'd be doing after the surgery.

The first round of exercises are ridiculous, that's how injured I was. Put a band around a doorknob, hold it in one hand, and step away from the door. Step back. Repeat 15 times. Rest. Do it again. Stop when you feel any pain worse than the resting pain. Now face a different direction and do it again. Repeat.

As the days went on, I was able to step further away, putting more resistance in the band. After a week, I was doing exercises where I moved my arm instead of having to carry it along with my entire body. One morning I lifted my arm away from my body to put on deodorant. A week later I was getting a shirt on and off without looking like a circus act. What the hell was happening?

It turns out the other three muscles can take over the rotation duties in the shoulder, but they have to learn from scratch. I was teaching them. Within four months of getting in a band routine, I had full strength back. No pain. I went back to throwing baseballs and playing disc golf. I got in the best shape of my life, and it didn't take surgery. All because of a chance encounter on a wharf one day.

So when I tore something in my other arm, I didn't panic. I also didn't resign myself to years of discomfort or feel like I had to give up my lifestyle. I just gave my shoulder some rest and began the band work. Once again, I got back to 100%.

The challenge, I've realized, is forcing ourselves to do the PT when we don't have the cost and pain of surgery to scare us into a routine. Which leads me to another thought: what other things in life could we improve if we had the equivalent of surgery to force our hands?

What if a doctor cut us open, put us in a sling or cast, and said the only way to get back to 100% is to write 1,500 words a day until that novel is complete?

Or the only way back to 100% is to spend an hour a day meditating?

Or the only way back to 100% is to sit down with a friend or loved one every day to have a talk that's deeper than the one before?

What if we had expensive, painful surgery, and our physical therapist said the only way to fully heal was to hug at least ten strangers a day and hold them until you felt both your bodies sag against each other?

Maybe the surgery isn't needed.

The therapy is the thing.

[tlbodine]

I was wondering how I am able to write a quick, but horrific death for a short story. Everytime I try, I accidentally end up dragging it.

Hi nonny! Great question!

So here's the trick with sudden, shocking events in storytelling (but especially in writing): The thing that makes it shocking is that it happens quickly, and the way to make it happen quickly is to spend not-very-many words on it.

The more detail you pour onto something, the more description you use, the more diluted the emotional impact will be.

But you don't want it to happen *so* quickly that the reader skims right past it without noticing. And you don't want the moment to fall flat in a "rocks fall, everyone dies" way.

So what do you do?

1 - You build up the suspense leading up to the moment.

2 - You choose really tight, evocative writing for the impactful scene.

3 - You let it rest for a beat, with line breaks, before characters start to react.

One way to build up the suspense is what we might call the "Final Destination" technique -- allow your description to linger over small, threatening details, building up foreshadowing before the event. Something like:

The barn door swung forward with a screech on its rusted hinges, and she crept forward, the lantern flame throwing flickering light over the walls. She could barely hear over the sound of her own breath and the way the wind moaned through the eaves. The lantern cast a sheen over something metallic, the sparkle catching her eye, and she turned her attention toward it, not hearing the footsteps behind her, then --

-- searing pain, a terrible pressure in her chest.

She looked down, uncomprehending, at the three bloodied points poking through the front of her sweater. Then then were gone, sliding out of her back just as easily as they'd gone in, and she tried to take in a breath but it felt like an iron band was tightening around her.

Blood bubbled up into her mouth, spilled between her teeth, and she slumped to her knees.

By spending a little bit of time building up sensory details in advance, you have your reader keyed in to be paying attention for what's going to happen next. Then, when the violence happens, zero in on a key specific detail or sensation rather than trying to describe the whole scene. Here I focus on the specific detail of her lungs puncturing and collapsing after being stabbed with a pitchfork. No other details are necessary -- not how the barn looks, not what she looks like or is thinking about or even where the killer is. For the moment, 100% of my attention is on the death. That's how you keep it tight and move along.

In Stephen King's Pet Sematary, the scene where Gage dies actually is not written directly in the book, the way it appears in the film. Instead, the story spends quite a few pages detailing out a fun father-son bonding scene. There's a chapter break, and the next chapter starts in with the funeral. That itself is already shocking! But we linger at the funeral and the emotions of that event for several more pages before we finally get a description of the death itself:

...one minute he was there on the road and the next minute he was lying in it, but way down by the Ringers' house. It hit him and killed him and then it dragged him and you better believe it was quick. A hundred yards or more all told, the length of a football field, I ran after him, Missy, I was screaming his name over and over again, almost as if I expected he would still be alive, me, a doctor. I ran ten yards and there was his baseball cap and I ran twenty yards and there was one of his Star Wars sneakers, I ran forty yards and by then the truck had run off the road and the box had jackknifed in that field beyond the Ringers' barn. People were coming out of their houses and I went on screaming his name, Missy, and at the fifty-yard line there was his jumper, it was turned inside-out, and on the seventy-yard line there was the other sneaker, and then there was Gage.

I think this is SO wonderfully effective for multiple reasons:

1 - It focuses entirely on the mood and experience of Louis, whose perspective we're in right here. He is a father absolutely beside himself with grief and trauma, and the form follows that. The long run-on sentences are breathless and rambling and sound like someone who's come a little bit unhinged as he starts explaining. You can really feel his pain in this.

2 - The juxtaposition of a football field is such a mundane but effective detail. Not only does it provide effective information (we know exactly how far this is), but the mismatch of the mundane and the horrible beside each other drives it home.

3 - We don't actually need to see the body to comprehend the sheer violence and horror of this death. We don't need to see blood on the highway. Focusing on the details of his clothing items scattered at such a distance does a great job of portraying the speed and violence of the collision, and it's unsettling. It paints a mental picture of a dismemberment without ever saying as much outright. And the idea of being hit and dragged with enough force to turn a jumper inside out and leave it behind on the road is absolutely horrific.

So there's a few techniques to try playing with. If you're interested, I have a couple of guides that might provide more ideas:

Description Writing guide: https://tlbodine.gumroad.com/l/pulqq

Suspense Writing guide: https://tlbodine.gumroad.com/l/uyevh

Thanks for the ask, and happy writing!

[redhairedwolfwitch]

30. Painting - OC x Platonic!Reader - Football!AU

@purple-dahlias' Seven sentence fic July day 30: painting

a/n: this is also set after the events of tears, but before the events of sunlight. It's also set slightly before the events of braid.

One of the plus sides of being loaned from your lesser known club up north down to Arsenal was that you could finally go to the museums and galleries that you hadn't been able to see before, and with an upcoming day off, you buried yourself in google maps research.

Atlas had warned you the night before that she was most likely going to spend the day in bed when you mentioned exploring London, although she wanted updates on how you were doing, most likely checking that you weren't going to get lost in London.

Finally walking into the Natural History Museum, clad in a baseball cap and sunglasses, you were not willing to admit how long it had taken you to traverse the London Underground, instead making a beeline first for the dinosaurs, snapping photos on your phone and grinning as you read over each information plaque.

You didn't expect a small child to be watching you in awe as you walked over to the gallery section, removing your sunglasses to take in the paintings in their full glamour, you paused to look down at the small child tugging at your jeans, asking if you were one of the new footballers at Arsenal.

Taking a photo with them as the adult with her took the photo, you walked around other museum exhibits you were interested in, texting Atlas about being recognised in front of a painting of a rhino from the 1700s, before heading into the gift shop, and then back to trying to traverse the London Underground again to get back for dinner at the flat you shared with Atlas.

"You could have told me you were going to a museum!" Atlas grumbled, having glanced over your shoulder as you went through your photos to post for your socials, retweeting the photo you'd taken with the small child earlier in the process as you stirred the dinner with a wooden spoon in your free hand, "I got you something from the gift shop though!"

Pausing in your stirring, you ignored Atlas' warning of not letting the food burn and stick the pan in favour of staring at your instagram notifications, as you read over your followers briefly, spotting some significant names, including some of your teammates at Arsenal who hadn't followed you before, whilst the Natural History Museum had liked your post.

[asteriismos]

flashing lights — bill denbrough

pairing: bill denbrough x fem! reader

warning(s): smut, eighteen! bill denbrough, is it choking if he doesn’t squeeze?, fingering, piv sex, cursing, ig kinda degrading idk tho judge for yourself, unedited

summary: bill, the star baseball player of derry, and you, from another high school, meet in the locker room and get to know each other. 

words: 3.1k

note: don’t say i never gave you anything i am a woman of my word

sitting here in the bleachers adjacent to the baseball field, with the setting sun in your gaze and the feeling of newly spring wind on your skin, you had high hopes that your schools baseball team would win. out of all the schools in lieu with your own, bangor high school, derry’s team was the most anticipated of in the season. where most high schools in the nation favored the fall sport of football, the central part of maine where you lived actually liked baseball more, so when the first sprouts of spring showed, everyone was excited for the next season. 

you were a senior, almost finished with school and personally tasked yourself and your group of friends with trying to go to every single baseball game that you all could make it to - whether they were at home or away. 

“look, he’s up to bat,” your friend marcella said, catching your attention by lightly tapping your shoulder and motioning to the field. there you saw your close friend owen, who was the star player of your school’s team and one of your friends since you were a little kid. he was the person who introduced you to the group that you were here with now, here specifically to cheer him on. 

you saw him walk to home plate, bat in hand and getting into position to swing. your eyes took you across from him to the pitcher of the other team, who you didn’t know but could see the name displayed on the back of his shirt. denbrough. you raised your eyebrow at the last name, it didn’t ring a bell. 

the crowd started to cheer for your friend, waiting for denbrough to throw the first pitch. everything became silent, and the ball was thrown with stellar accuracy. whoever this denbrough boy was, he was seemingly a really good pitcher. when the second ball was thrown and owen missed yet again, your hand ran through your hair nervously. you could hear people whispering all around you, wondering if he was going to strike out. 

just as if someone of the heavens was listening to the anxious worries of your fellow classmates, denbrough went to throw the ball and owen swung and the ball went flying, going straight for the outfield as owen ran with all his might to first base. you cheered with your friends, yelling words of encouragement and praise towards your team. 

the game, from that point, was in your high schools favor. it was seemingly decided almost halfway through that bangor high school had it in the bag, which did nothing for any person in your crowds ego. just as the last inning was finished, your school came out victorious. 

“hopefully this means that we’re going to the championships this year,” you heard people say. “and maybe we can host it at our school so we don’t have to drive all the way out here again.” 

you were anxious to see your friend, running down the stairs of the bleachers and shouting his name, but owen didn’t hear you. sighing, you turned to your group to say, “should we get back home?” the team would have to come back by bus anyways, which sucked, because you wanted to congratulate your friend on such a good win. 

“yeah, probably before it gets too late, you know how bad those backroads are,” jake stated. “do you want to catch a ride with me? im sure marcella can take your car back.” 

half of you wanted to go with them and just see owen later, but to you, it felt like poor taste to make him wait that long. plus, maybe you could catch him before he left. you shook your head, “no, i’ll stay. i want to see the team. go without me, I'll see you tomorrow.” 

jake laughed. “okay, just don’t get lost.” he wiggled his eyebrows in a teasing manner and walked away, taking your friends with him and leaving you alone in the front of derry high school. 

you had been here once before, just for a short while and after a baseball game like right now. but that was all the way back during freshman year when you were trying to find the bathroom, you really had no idea where the locker rooms were. 

opening the large door, you started along the main hallway, looking at the posters that aligned the wall that reminded you of your own school. derry was really similar in layout, so perhaps it wouldn’t be that hard. turning the corner, you saw a sign that pointed to the gym and the locker rooms. in no time you were there, but there was no one coming out of the doors. had they already left and you missed them? it was silent. 

you put your ear to the door and listened, hearing some rustling. you knocked, but there was no answer, making you raise your eyebrow. and you don’t exactly know what prompted you to open the wooden door and make your way inside, but you did, and along the array of closed lockers, your eyes took you to the one person who was in there. 

it was the denbrough pitcher. 

you got a good look of him now, with his honeyed locks that fell messy on his forehead, standing taller than you. his back was slightly turned to you and through his jersey you could see his toned back muscles, making you lose yourself for a moment and send you almost stumbling over your feet. you knew that he was attractive from the moment you set your eyes on him but you didn’t know that he was this attractive. 

he turned around now and immediately those dazzling cerulean blue eyes landed on you, making your face heat up in realizing that this was not the visitors locker room like you had intended on trying to find. 

“sorry,” you fumbled out after a moment of shameless staring. “I was looking for my friend.” denbrough tilted his head to the side and you watched him take out a bag and push his locker door closed. instead of walking out like you should’ve, you just stood there watching him. it was in poor taste, since the longer you looked at him, you could see clearly that he was angry. 

a tiny grin came to his face. “it’s fine, no one’s in here except me anyways.” a silent moment passed and then a quizzical look came to his face, eyes falling back on you. “wait . . . weren’t you cheering on the other team?” he had noticed you, just as you were now noticing him. the room seemed a lot smaller than it had earlier and you ignored the fluttering feeling in your stomach the longer he stared at you. you didn’t even know his name. 

“yeah, it was a good game,” you shrugged your shoulders. 

“we should’ve won that game.” 

a cocky grin splayed on your features. “well, im sure you’ll get another shot next time.” you would have to play them again to secure a spot in the championships, it was still rather early in the season anyways. 

“will you be at the next game?” denbrough asked, he walked closer to you now, and there was a look in his eyes that was not easy to mistake. he was looking at you like you were a full course meal and he was the hungriest man on earth. and you liked the way that he looked at you, this gorgeous boy that you had barely met, and you wanted him to keep looking at you like that. well, you would rather him be doing other things. “maybe we could go do something together afterwards.” now you were certain of his likeness for you. 

you gave him a smirk. “well, i don’t know about that, i wouldn’t want to get involved with the opposing team.” when he noticed you were directly giving back the same energy he was giving, his feet stopped so he was just inches away from you. it took everything in you to keep yourself from grabbing him by those large muscles and - 

in a moment of weakness or just pure idiocy, you did exactly as you thought, lunging yourself forward, hands reaching for his face and pulling him into a searing kiss. when he reciprocated your movements, you had to stop another smirk from rising to your face, pushing it down and focusing on your hands that made it’s way to his soft hair. 

your kiss was unexpected by denbrough, though seemingly not unwelcome since his hands found their place exploring your sides, not being exactly gentle with his touches which you didn’t mind. this was so unlike you, doing something like this with someone you didn’t know. and to be honest, it was unlike him, too. 

but both of you were giving each other the ‘fuck me’ eyes and well, you only live once, right? 

as the kiss became more sloppy and he broke it to press kisses to your jawline and trailing down your neck, you breathed out and closed your eyes. “I don’t even know your name.” you sighed into his touches though, not really caring what his name was but knowing that it would probably be useful sometime soon. 

denbrough came back up to meet your gaze. “it’s bill,” he gave you a grin. “pleasure to meet you.” there was a sense of teasing in his tone, which you would’ve laughed at if his hands weren't reaching for where your shirt met your pants. 

“y/n,” you said weakly, already feeling your legs start to give out by the way that he was looking at you. you reached out to bill, wanting to feel his body pressed against yours again. he chuckled at your eagerness, giving you what you wanted by slowly pushing you against the lockers behind you. you felt the cool metal through your shirt and instantly realized how hot it was getting in this locker room, your skin was already on fire. 

bill reattached his lips to your skin and you spent the time trying to undo the belt that was around his pants that nicely accentuated everything that you wanted from him. thank god for baseball pants. 

tentatively, you pressed your hips against his and you heard a groan leave his throat, his lips stalling for a moment and then going back to his earlier movements. you were well aware of how excited he was, taking a moment to note that you could feel that he was absolutely fucking enormous. 

of course he was. 

as if he had enough of this teasing, his hand reached down and went straight under the band of your pants, being met with the wetness that was gathering in your panties. you bucked your hips forward into his hand and he smirked at how compliant you seemed to be with him. his other hand was gripping your side, keeping you close to him while the other pushed your panties to the side and the pad of his pointer finger came into contact with your slit. 

you moaned out and bill covered your mouth with his own, not kissing you but keeping it there. “so tell me,” he said, breath hot against you, finger tracing a line from your slick folds to your clit, making you almost keel over if it hadn’t been for his hand keeping you up and body pressing you farther into the locker. “this friend of yours, he was on your team wasn’t he?” 

you nodded, not trusting your voice. but he didn’t seem to like that, his hand stalling and not moving no matter how much you tried to gain friction. 

“answer me with words,” the hand on your side coming up to the bottom of your throat so you were forced to look at him in the face, those blue eyes on him seemingly had become darker. 

you took in a sharp breath. “yes,” you answered. his movements started again, but this time he took one finger and pushed it inside you till he was knuckle deep in, a large moan falling off of your tongue, eyes rolling to the back of your skull. 

“and how do you think he would feel seeing you like this for me? the star player of the other team?” bill’s tone was condescending and you wondered if he was normally like this, or he was just angry about the outcome of the game. his finger sped up, soon being joined with another one that slipped in with ease. you were so wet for him already. “but you wouldn’t care, would you?” 

it was seemingly rhetorical, because he didn’t wait for you to answer and instead attached his lips to your throat, teeth grazing a point that had you gasping, hand coming and tugging on those locks of his, the other falling to his neck. 

“bill,” you muttered. “please just-” you were cut off by a moan, gripping him close as his thumb came into contact with your clit and rubbed tight circles against it. 

he looked up at you from the mess he was creating on your neck. “please what?” 

“just fuck me.” 

you were really in no position to be making such requests since bill seemed to be in control (which really, you didn’t mind if it meant that he was making you feel good in the process), but at this point you were too strung out to care what he thought of the rather forward request. you knew that you needed him and you needed him now. 

bill pulled away from you and you took in his now ragged features, noticing the tint of red in his cheeks and the freckles that dotted them, and the goldenness that he seems to radiate. in some ways you hoped that this wouldn’t be your only encounter with the denbrough boy, but that was something to worry about later, since his hands were undoing the rest of his belt and you knew that was your cue to do the same with your own pants. 

soon enough you were back in the same position, one of his hands next to your head on the locker behind you as he moved to position his cock at your entrance, eyes meeting with yours as he pushed in to look at your reaction. and it was everything that he hoped to see, your mouth opening into an ‘o’ shape, lips parted and eyes never leaving his own. 

once he bottomed out, he already started a fast rhythm, giving you little to no time to adjust. but you were so needy you didn’t care, not one bit because he was making you feel so good that you wished for this moment to last forever. and you were already so wet and willing, bill couldn’t wait a second longer. 

your hands gripped onto his forearms, steadying yourself, but it was hard to keep your legs from giving out. bill must've noticed your struggle and leaned down, grabbing you by the back of your thighs and hoisting you up in his arms, using the leverage of the locker to fuck into you. 

the change in position made you quiver in his arms like putty, arms wrapping around his neck and caging him close to you. incoherent words fell from your mouth that wouldn’t close no matter how hard you tried, while his pace became fast, rough, and unrelenting. you didn’t know bill well but you could tell that he was adamant about making you feel good, which fueled the fire inside of you even more. 

if he was tired from playing the game, he didn’t even show it. bill fucked into you with such a frenzy that it was almost animalistic, which made you wonder how much energy this boy possibly had. what you didn’t know was it was your moans what were spurring him on, your moans that kept him going. bill had already been to point of exhaustion from the game but you were able to give him a second wind and he was not fucking up this one like he had fucked up in the game. his determination both of the field and in this moment caught up with him and well, he was bringing all of his emotion out. 

and you loved it so much that you couldn’t think straight. all you could do was try and keep yourself still, words stringing together into barely put together sentences of oh fuck yes and that feels so good. 

it was a moment of pure bliss that you didn’t even feel yourself start to clench around him, noticing it finally when you felt every inch of him scrape against your willing walls, bringing you closer to that cliff into a sea of pleasure that only he could give you. what finally made you break was the groans that he was making, which were hot and heavy and like heaven to your ears that you knew you would be playing on repeat before you went to sleep tonight. 

and then his hand slipped between your legs, pressing up against your swollen clit and that was it. you were sent into a state of pure, fucked out bliss as you came around him, your moans everything but silent. luckily there seemed to be no one around to hear, and if they did they didn’t bother with stopping it.

a few thrusts afterwards and with an insistent command from you to cum inside you because you were on the pill, bill came undone and it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen in his life. as if this boy couldn’t get more perfect, haven been basically sent to you on a gift from god himself. he pulled out and you could feel the evidence slightly dripping out of you and onto your thighs. 

there was a moment of cleaning up, where he actually grabbed a towel from his locker and helped you wipe away everything and eventually sit down onto the bench between the sides of lockers. where you thought would be awkwardness, there wasn’t, a few words passed between the two of you and then you told him that you should go, you had to drive home. 

surprisingly, he asked if you needed help and then you remembered you barely knew him and shook your head. it was late anyways, he probably had things to do. 

and when you got control of your limbs again (which bill cheekily smirked at), you walked out of the high school, him trailing behind you. you gave him one last look before parting ways, and in the heat of the moment, you told him your number and to call him if he ever wanted to get together again. 

[rowanaelinn]

Tease

word count: 1,3k

warning: some mild nsfw

i might write part two of this if you’re interested in it! i wrote this in thirty minutes right before posting it so i’ll be honest i was a bit lazy to write everything, so just tell me if you’d be interested in a part two!

Aelin Ashryver Galathynius knew she was a tease. She had been told so her entire life, and she took great pride in it.

She loved to make jokes about her family, to laugh of her friends whenever she could, and to annoy the shit out of everyone around her when she was in a mood.

But, she wasn’t only that way with people she loved dearly but also with the ones she hated with a passion.

Not a lot of people could fit in that category since she never considered herself a very hateful person, only Rowan Whitethorn could. It wasn’t exactly her fault, she just couldn’t ignore him when he was in the same room as her, she had to pick on him. And he returned the courtesy so she didn’t really feel bad about it.

But after two years of knowing each other, something changed. Aelin didn’t know how their banters went from snarky remarks to angrily making out in closets, but she was willing to admit she didn’t mind.

Not that she had stopped teasing him, but it was funnier now. For the past two months, she couldn’t count how many times her hand had accidentally brushed the top of his thigh, how many times her skirt rode up around him and she just didn’t notice or how many times she had to wipe the side of her mouth as she maintained eye contact with him.

They had made out for hours and they had also sometimes crossed a line, but they were both in silent agreement to never speak about it even when it was only the two of them. So, whenever she could she’d tease him about how bad he kissed (which is the biggest lie that ever came out of her mouth) but she’d never brought up that time they had drunk and he made her scream of pleasure just with two fingers.

And he would tease her on the way she always pulled his hair too roughly, but he’d never spoke about that time she took him so deep in her mouth he came down her throat, chanting her name as he fucked her mouth.

Never had they crossed that final line and Aelin wasn’t sure they would. She didn’t know whether to feel revealed or disappointed. Normal people don’t make out with people they hate, so they’d definitely wouldn’t have sex with them. Maybe she wasn’t normal, she liked the sound of this.

Aelin was having so much fun tonight.

They were all out in a bar to celebrate Fenrys’s birthday and instead of being by her best friend’s side, drinking and partying, she was in a dirty bathroom, her legs around the man she hated’s waist, her hands in his hair, and her tongue playing with his. He was pressing her against the wall, both hands gripping her ass.

“What about ‘never doing this again’?” Aelin asked, pulling back to take back her breath but she didn’t catch a break, Rowan’s lips assaulting her neck. Every time they kissed, one of them promised it was the last time, even if they both knew it was a goddamn lie.

“Shut up,” he groaned, taking back her lips. She just giggled, trying her best not to break the kiss. She was annoying him, she knew it, it’s exactly why she was doing this.

Aelin didn’t know how they ended up here tonight, they had been fighting over what sport was better between football and baseball, and the next second, she heard him lock the door and she was kissing him roughly.

“I’m still right.”

He groaned, pressing his body closer to hers in hopes it would shut her up, but if he really believed this he didn’t know her at all. He went to unbutton her shirt, but she stopped him right there, shaking her head.

He looked at her, a brow arched and Aelin hated how beautiful he looked right now, his long hair in a mess because of her, his lips swollen and eyes darker than his usual shade of green. “Tell me I’m right, then you can take off my clothes.”

“No.”

Aelin smirked, taking her hands off his hair. “Hands off, then.” She smirked but Rowan didn’t let her go. “Come on, three little words. You are right.”

“I’m not going to lie.” He said, his hands massaging her butt. He really was shameless.

“But you’re going home with blue balls.” She winked and used all her strength to push him back, settling on her feet once again. She ignored the ache between her own legs and walked away from him, accentuating the sway of her hips because she knew it’s where he would look.

She sat back with her friends, ordering her second drink of the night as she laughed with Lysandra.

Five minutes later, Rowan sat at the same table, looking normal as if he hadn’t almost fucked someone in the bathroom. He ordered a new drink and spoke with Aedion who was sitting to his left, but not one single time did he look at her, which annoyed her.

She tried to attract his attention by laughing a little loudly, by interrupting his conversation with her cousin because she needed to ask Aedion something or because she was recalling a childhood memory, but nothing worked. Never once his gaze settled on her.

With a smirk on her face, Aelin pulled her phone out of her pocket and quickly found her message app. She took advantage of Lysandra wanting to dance with Fenrys to take the time to scroll into her picture to find what to send.

Happy with her choice, Aelin pressed the “send” button and put her phone on the table, her eyes focused on the silver-haired man at the other side of the table.

He opened his phone the moment he got the notification and she could see the moment he saw her text.

Rowan had just received a very explicit photo of hers truly, she was laying in bed, with lacy red lingerie on and one of her hands disappeared in her underwear, not letting what her fingers were doing to the imagination. She had been thinking of him when she took this, and had felt a little embarrassed about it when she came down from her high, but now she was glad she took the picture.

His knee, which had been shaking since he sat down, she didn't need to see it to know, he did it all the time, tapped the underside of the table, drawing everyone's attention.

His head snapped up toward her, his eyes hard. Aelin grinned like a fiend, proud of herself. She brought her glass to her lips but she before rose it toward him, mouthing “cheers”.

Her phone buzzed, showing a new message. Stop with this attitude before I fuck it out of you.

She bit her lip, fighting the blushing coming on her cheeks. When she looked up, Rowan seemed proud of him as if he knew what she was feeling right now. Maybe he did. They had never spoken about this so outrightly, this was dangerous territory.

Not sure you would be able to handle all of me.

His reply came in immediately. Willing to bet against it?

She was, but she didn’t want him to win her so easily even though she had fantasied about him fucking her for months now. You miss my mouth?

Yes. Oh, good gods help her. She didn’t dare to look up, feeling the weight of his gaze on her. Feeling the same about my fingers?

I don’t know. It wasn’t that memorable.

She looked up to see him frown and she internally smiled at it, finding the image funny. She looked quickly at her phone. Join me in my car in five minutes and allow me to refresh your memory.

Rowan didn’t wait for an answer before excusing himself for the night. She didn’t have to think about it twice, her mind was already made.

————

taglist: @sheharahu // @morganofthewildfire // @thestoriesyoutell // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @swankii-art-teacher // @itsforeverinnocent-blog // @becarefuloflove // @imnotsogoodatthis // @rowaelinismyotp // @a-court-of-milkandhoney // @feysand-loml // @themoonthestarsthesuriel // @live-the-fangirl-life // @story-scribbler // @loves-books // @fangirlprincess09 // @theysayitscrazy // @hellasblessed // @danibutterr // @endlessdaydream // @thegreyj // @gracie-rosee

[frankcarlisle]

“am I a prisoner to instincts or do my thoughts just live as free and detached as boats to the dock?”

FULL NAME: Franklin Carlisle II NICKNAME(S): Frankie, Frank, Junior PREFERRED NAME(S): Goes by 'Frankie' most often, doesn't mind alternatives BIRTHDATE: December 8th, 1983 AGE: 39 OCCUPATION: Bench Coach for the Philadelphia Phillies NEIGHBORHOOD: Rittenhouse Square BIOGRAPHY: (tw: infidelity)

Being born into Carlisle Dynasty meant that you were destined for greatness, and no one was more acutely aware of that than Frankie Carlisle. As the eldest of Franklin Carlisle, the head football coach over at Villanova, and Beverly Carlisle, CEO of one of the most prolific art museums in the city, the young boy knew from a young age that he had big shoes to fill.

Getting into sports was a no brainer for Frankie given his father’s career, but the question on everyone’s mind was which one he’d excel at the most. As a student at Oak Brooke Private school, he had the pick of the litter so to speak, and once he got his hands around a baseball bat that question was answered. His name got his foot in the door, but his skills on the field let him stay there. As a freshman in high school, Frankie was making varsity and winning MVP awards left and right, receiving sports scholarships and essentially able to go anywhere he wanted to for college. Enrolling in Villanova was a no-brainer, staying close to home and on the same campus as his father. 

The year after graduation was a big one for Frankie; getting married to his college sweetheart, Anabel, and getting drafted to the Philadelphia Phillies. It was like the young man was on cloud nine, the world opening up for him in ways he never could have dreamed. Soon he was traveling the country, playing a game he loved as his job, making his own income, and married to the love of his life. But the honeymoon phase can’t last forever, and after picking his career over his wife over and over again, Anabel asked for a divorce. It was amicable for the most part, and though devastated Frankie understood that the way he wanted to live his life was incompatible with hers, and so Frankie was single and living on his own once more at 25. 

Single life wasn’t actually so bad once he got over the initial heartbreak. Now the male could stay out late, not worry about keeping anyone waiting, not ask for anyone’s permission – with the glamorous lifestyle he was leading, it would have been too difficult to keep a steady relationship anyway. Instead, he focused on himself and his family, investing in his sister’s future by purchasing her yoga studio, remodeling his parents’ home, going on lavish vacations and spending more money he knew what to do with. Everything felt perfect, but at some point it all felt…repetitive. 

Enter Willa. He’d initially thought about cancelling the blind date set up by a couple of friends of his, but after meeting the brilliant, gorgeous doctor, Frankie was smitten. In less than a year they were moving in together, married, planning their future. This time it would be different, he’d devote himself entirely to his wife and to the family he yearned to have – at least, that was the plan. At the age of thirty, Frankie retired from playing in the MLB and instead was offered a position with his old team as the Bench Coach. More money, less grunt work, a slightly more flexible schedule. Maybe, just maybe, this could work.

After years of trying to get pregnant, the couple finally had their first child, Emmaline. That first year of parenthood was filled with ups and downs, testing their relationship in ways they’d never been challenged before. They loved their daughter, but as the days went by it felt like the only thing they had in common. Between their equally busy schedules, the fighting, and then the stress of trying to get pregnant a second time, Frankie felt himself slipping into old, selfish habits. Nights out with the guys turned into flirtatious banter with women at the bars, which turned into suggestive conversations, then make out sessions in the bathroom, until finally Frankie finally lost any shred of a conscience he had left. 

But then Willa finally got pregnant with their second child, and in that same week found out about his infidelity. Though he swore up and down, left and right that he put an end to his bad habits, the seal of trust between them had been broken. They attempted to work things out as she moved through the pregnancy, but after their daughter Olivia was born, they realized the damage was irreparable.  

Two years later and still in the midst of a messy divorce, Frankie is trying to focus on the things that matter the most to him and keep his head above water, but only time will tell if that will be enough to satiate him in the long run. 

[real-time-twilight]

Twilight vs. Life and Death #23

🍏Life and Death🍏

Maybe if I had been one of the cool kids, I could make this work for me. Come in all popular, homecoming king-styles. But there was no hiding the fact that I was not that guy--not the football star, not the class president, not the bad boy on the motorcycle. I was the kid who looked like he should be good at basketball, until I started walking. The kid who got shoved into lockers until I'd suddenly shot up sophomore year. The kid who was too quiet and too pale, who didn't know anything about gaming or cars or baseball statistics or anything else I was supposed to be into.

   Unlike the other guys,  I didn't have a ton of free time for hobbies. I had a checkbook to balance, a clogged drain to snake, and ac week's groceries to shop for.

   Or I used to.

🍎Twilight🍎

Maybe, if I looked like a girl from Phoenix should look, I could work this to my advantage. But physically, I'd never fit in anywhere. I should be tan, sporty, blond--a volleyball player, or a cheerleader, perhaps--all the things that go with living in the valley of the sun.

   Instead, I was ivory-skinned, without even the excuse of blue eyes or red hair, despite the constant sunshine. I had always been slender, but soft, somehow, obviously not an athlete; I didn't have the necessary hand-eye coordination to play sports without humiliating myself--and harming both myself and anyone else who stood too close.

   When I finished putting my clothes in the old pine dresser, I took my bag of bathroom necessities and went to the communal bathroom to clean up after the day of travel. I looked at my face in the mirror as I brushed through my tangled, damp hair. Maybe it was the light, but already I looked sallower, unhealthy. My skin could be pretty--it was very clear, almost translucent-looking--but it all depended on color. I had no color here.

   Facing my pallid reflection in the mirror, I was forced to admit that I was lying to myself. It wasn't just physically that I'd never fit in. And if I couldn't find a niche in a school with three thousand people, what were my chances here?

My gosh, so much to unpack here. Let's start with the fact that Bella's monologue is literally only about her own perception of her looks. And it's so much longer than Beau's. Beau's ties in way more thematically with the following paragraph about not fitting in with his peers, which we'll cover next time. I believe his lack of assessment of his own appearance stems from the Beau is a Boy issue. As is the fact that he ONCE AGAIN stresses how NOT INTO CARS he is. We get it!

We also get a lot of mingled underlying resentment for being the responsible one in his household as opposed to Renee, but also that he seems to have a sense of his own superiority over his peers that he's so much more mature than them because he "has" to take care of his mother. Which is very fucked up, but also very interesting. I think this falls under Personality Differences between Beau and Bella. Beau has a much greater need for control in his life, which I think is also why he's so organized.

Now, while Beau doesn't take any time to describe himself, he does mention being bullied in school. I think this is a gendered issue for Smeyer. Beau was physically bullied because Beau was being bullied by other guys, and only boys are violent, of course *heavy sarcasm*. I believe Bella was bullied but in subtler ways, otherwise she wouldn't be so self conscious about not "looking like someone from Phoenix should" but this is something she's internalized and clearly doesn't register as bullying in her mind.

Finally I want to take an opportunity to point out a glaring instance of Stephanie being hoodwinked by her sons into using very cringe turns of phrase-- in this case "homecoming king-styles". This is a really bad one.

[harryissuchalittleshit]

I am always down to hear your Johnson/Weasley headcannons!

Ask and you shall receive! What was supposed to just be a quick little list about George and Angelina being Little League Quidditch coaches, became a fun 4k fic. I just really love writing George and Angelina together, they are so in love and so sweet to each other :)

So without further ado, I now present:

Little League Quidditch with the Johnson-Weasley Family

Summary:

George and Angelina find themselves the coaches of Freddie and Roxanne's Little League Quidditch team. It's their little secret from the family, and somehow it works for them. Plus, how much trouble can a group of five, six, and seven year olds get into?

(featuring lovesick George and Angelina, an excited pair of twins that are Freddie and Roxanne, and Molly and Arthur enjoying some well contained chaos)

Read on Ao3 HERE!

I am putting the first part under a read more, but the full story will be on Ao3 at the above link!

“So the Chasers are coming along pretty well,” said Angelina, and George nodded as he tapped his quill on the parchment in front of him. “But I need to get the Keeper up to par.”

“Well our Beaters are great on the pitch and a bit too into practice off the pitch,” said George as Angelina handed him a cup of tea. George smiled at her as he took a sip, she had perfected how she made him his tea. “Seeker is still getting a little too distracted by the clouds.”

Angelina smiled and leaned over to kiss his cheek, before taking a sip of her own tea. When she had signed up Freddie and Roxanne for Little League Quidditch, she had thought that it would just be some fun for the kids, and a nice way to get back into the sport. Both she and George had stopped following the League sometime during the war, and neither of them even really went flying anymore, but Quidditch was one thing they had both always loved.

“Are you telling me that’s the reason why I found one of my vases broken in the front hall?” asked Angelina, thinking of the mess she found when she came home.

“I really didn’t think that they would be Beaters,” said George, still smiling and Angelina reached over a brushed the tears from his cheeks. “Fred and I-“

“Always joked that your kids would play together,” cut in Angelina, knowing exactly what George was going to say. It took her back to the winter they had reconnected, all of the conversations they had barely been able to get through together.

“Are we doing the right thing keeping this from the family?” asked George and Angelina shook her head, smiling at him as she laced their fingers together. “Other than mum and dad?”

“I told dad and David and…and Cassius,” Angelina told him, squeezing his hand. “Dad has no clue about Quidditch, but he understands what ‘little league’ is. He wishes that it was football or baseball like he played, but he knows that Freddie and Roxanne are happy and that’s all he cares about. And David…he always loved Quidditch, Cassius too.”

George nodded and tapped his quill again, before sighing and setting it down on the parchment. Angelina was quiet, she knew when George was lost in thought, and she knew better than to try and get it out of him.

At least most of the time.

“We’re going to need a strong defense against the Bumblebees,” said Angelina, breaking him out of his thoughts, and grabbing the piece of parchment he had been writing on. It was a list of all the teams in their little district, all of them numbered in the order they would be playing against each other.

She knew that they had no real need to get competitive, their team was made up of five, six, and seven year olds, but coaching wasn’t exactly bringing out the best in them. They had decided to sign up Freddie and Roxanne because they were fairly good flyers, they also expected to get a few free hours in the afternoon instead of hurrying to get their twins home from school.

But then their coach left or quit or whatever, and George volunteered because he felt bad.

And then he went and seduced Angelina to help with the Chasers.

She had been both impressed and a little annoyed, but then she saw how hopeless the team was without her. She couldn’t stand the thought of her kids and husband feeling sad and disappointed because they lost a game, nor did she want to stand at the sidelines and watch them fail.

“Alright,” said George, smiling sadly as he got to his feet. “I heard a noise, and you know what that means.”

Angelina nodded and smiled at him, following after him as they walked into the kitchen, finishing their now cold tea and putting their cups into the sink. Angelina giggled as George wrapped his arms around her waist as Freddie and Roxanne ran into the room, all four of them full of happiness.

This is what she wanted to see, what she wanted to hear. She loved her children’s laughter, George’s laughter, it was all so infectious and easy and warm. It filled her to the brim and made her feel light and happy and like she was home.

Because she was, she was home with George’s arms around her waist and Freddie and Roxanne laughing.

“Mama?” said Freddie, reaching forward to take one of her hands in both of his. “Are you going to keep playing with us?”

Angelina had stopped flying after the war, the memory of too many Order missions getting stuck in her head. But then when Freddie and Roxanne were about a year old, Ron had given them both toy brooms. She had been a bit apprehensive about the whole thing, but then she had come home from a long overnight shift and walked into her home to find George chasing after Freddie and Roxanne and laughing with them.

It had become easier to fly after that, especially with one of two small bodies pressed against her, the other with George.

Now she really couldn’t imagine her summers without flying trips together, all four of them.

[eremiie]

what sport/club do you think the aot characters would participate in? 😲

aot characters and the sports they play;

❥ every time i get a group aot character ask i immediately consult @miekasa , i love it here, ANYWAYS 

eren would play hella fucking sports, like he’s a PE kid, takes that shit serious asf. that being said football because he needs to let out his anger, and an angry sport for an angry kid, hockey, soccer (this man can KICK??? he doesn’t even know if he’s playing right he just punts the ball across the field and got on the team tbh)

levi does not play sports. maybe boxing, sparring? just to whoops some ass idk, or maybe even that one sport with the swords (fencing?)

armin i see as a more musically inclined person, he plays piano or something. BUT if i had to choose a sport i’d say swimming and i’m tempted to say boys volleyball.

jean ummm maybe swimming, i mean he got a long ass body, track but ONLY because the coach begged him to be on the teams since he’s fucking 6′3 so he did it. football probably also. maybe hockey also.

connie plays basketball! fight me on this!!! he dunks on you in the hallways and shits and jukes you for no fucking reason. i don’t see him playing sports really besides b-ball tho, maybe track but he’s not the best at all. i wouldn’t rlly consider skating a sport but connie skates

reiner ??? i looked at his name and my eyes went wide cause idk... WAIT FOOTBALL!!! HES A FOOTBALL PLAYER IN THE SCHOOL CASTES YEAH. big buff football player who carries his helmet around school and tries to impress the cheerleaders, namely historia.

porco why do i think this mf sucks at sports but not bc he sucks but bc he has no fucking teamwork skills. anyways hockey, and he hits people with the sticks. maybe baseball too. also maybe rugby cause that sport is rough.

colt and sports??? umm fucking tennis, baseball idk

zeke is a coach who acts like he can play the sports better than the kids but hasn’t actually played it. yk the ones w the potbellies. im not saying zeke has a potbelly, but

mikasa i see her going to the gym a lot compared to working out but like i can see her boxing with annie as well... maybe softball, who knows

sasha, hear me out; plays a surplus of sports, not NOW but like when she was younger she did a variety of sports??? okay lets get into this. she did archery when she was younger (remember how good she was with a bow and arrow?) but she doesn’t do it anymore, still got the skills. probably did karate as well and has fucking INSTINCT now. this isn’t rlly a sport but i see her being good at roller skating/ice skating, like when u go to the rink w her she’s the shit at it. maybe track but not for running, for field, like maybe pole vaulting, and maybe swimming. but keep in mind she rarely plays any more. her body is still fit though despite how much she eats. ok NEXT

hange and sports???? my girl be in the lab cooking up concoctions wym 😭, but on a real note i don’t see her doing sports either. i feel like when she was 3 she did gymnastics for 2 weeks. 

historia is a cheerleader. literally in the school castes she’s one, but have you seen her????? that’s a cheerleader if i ever seen one

hitch is also a cheerleader but she branches out, i can see her doing dance (in general, no specific genre of dance), and possibly gymnastics as well but i’m not confident ab that one?

annie could do any sport and be the shit at it, i see her doing boxing like i sid earlier. imma add track even though i’ve said it like 482397 times because i can really see her being fast as fuck (i mean her titan was pretty speedy), and being one of those girls that people always ask in the locker rooms “you’re so short!!!! how are you running track?!??!??!” and she wants to punch them in their face but instead shrugs and keeps changing bc wtf kind of question. she talks to no one on the team but everyone bugs her.

pieck and sports doesn’t sit right with me tbh. she literally crawls bc she doesn’t wanna stand— and she lays down 99% of the time,,, WHAT SPORT IS SHE PLAYING?? TELL ME. this isn’t a sport but she does yoga once in a blue moon. i hc her as flexible for no good reason

yelena ?????? shooting is an olympic sport and she goes to shooting ranges for fun, other than that she puts that height to no good use.