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athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit · 3 years

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Of Ice and Blood

Part 3

Hey there! Thank you for taking the time to read this

There are so many left out details here that I did on purpose for future explanation within the fic for the element of mystery I'm trying to brew . Hope you don't mind! Enjoy reading❤

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

1.7k words.

Pairing: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Human OC/Reader)

Warnings: cursing, violence, injury and fighting.

Without thinking, I drove my fist towards the voice, regretting it the instant I recognized who it was.

Tai'chi.

I shouldn’t have been surprised when I found my fist encased in his hand. He seems unfazed by my reaction, seemingly expecting it.

“Oh shi— I’m so sorry!”

How the hell did he sneak up on me without making a sound??

“Feisty- I mean, I should be the one sorry, for startling you...And for following you. I just wanted to, make sure you were alright.”

I blinked. He was concerned?

He spoke up when I didn’t respond.

“So, are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah. I’m fine. Just, disappointed.” I breathed in and sighed as he gently let go of my fist.

Oh, and his scent helps right now. He smells so...wonderful I don’t know why. It’s not like I’ve been surrounded by disgusting odors my entire life. I swear I’ve inhaled appealing scents like lilac, sandalwood, cinnamon, even rain has its particular smell! But Tai'chi, he—he’s something else entirely.

“Shouldn’t you be somewhere else like, I don’t know, maybe getting lunch with some of your friends or in a classroom?” I asked. I wonder why he would even bother to be in my presence. Anyone should be creeped out by the way I spoke up earlier. I mean, who does that? Plus, I did throw a stranger down to the floor. But part of me knows he deserved that.

Definitely.

“Want to talk about it?” He ignored my question. Tai'chi was now sitting cross-legged beside me, the oak’s root in between us. His deep azure eyes studying, watching me carefully.

“What?”

“What you did back there, wasn’t something a plain, timid college girl would do.”

Wait. He knew I was pretending to be one?

“Yes, I knew.”

“You can read minds?!” I stammered out. He can read my mind this whole time?! Shit.

He held up for a second before a boisterous laugh broke out of him and echoed through the circling trees, scaring away some birds perched above. I don’t know if I should be offended or flustered by his guffaw. It was so, so deep and rich and —

What the hell Pearl? What if he's reading your mind??

Tai'chi faced me again, sighing once he calmed down.

“To answer your question, no, I can’t read minds. But like I stated before, your face gives it away. Or your brows since you’re wearing a mask, but I can imagine your expression.”

I let out an incomprehensible noise.

“How did you find out I was pretending to be…you know,” waving my hands around.

“The moment we made eye contact this morning when you entered. And the way you shifted your body at the last second to prevent yourself from plunging into the trash bin, I knew you were something more. Your eyes and your actions show your experience in combat. A skilled warrior would notice these little things right away.”

My jaw fell open, and I’m sure he knows. He left me speechless.

Should I tell him I am a trained martial artist and a weapon wielder?

But we just met like 5 hours ago!

He seems trustworthy. And he’s an orc, didn’t they have a code of honor or something?

My thoughts ran wild I swear Tai'chi could hear my mind, screaming.

“Hey, it’s okay if you don’t wish to. And I must’ve sounded, creepy when I admitted I’ve been observing you. But before anything else, will you allow me to introduce myself, for real this time?”

“You mean your name isn’t Tai'chi?”

Letting out a chuckle, he replied, “I swear to you, my name is Tai'chi. What I mean is, I want you to know my full name. Do you understand what this implies, Pearl?”

I racked my brain for a moment, trying to recall what my parents said about orc traditions when my uncle, papa’s brother, married the orcess he fell in love with. Something about an orc’s real name being reserved only to those they’re close to?

“I guess so? But what exactly?”

“I want to become your friend.”

I couldn’t help the slight warmth creeping into my cheeks behind my mask. He can’t see it, can he? A friend, he says. A friend!

“Oh,” was all that came out. A pause and;

“Uh, I mean, I’d love to be your friend! I never had an actual friend before. I mean, have cousins, but we aren’t acquainted enough to consider myself their friend— I mean— uh, what should I do?” I blurted out a little rapidly.

He smiled. He actually smiled! Oh, damn, it was adorable!

Tai'chi was about to say something, but he snapped his mouth shut and grimaced. I was confused by his sudden change of mood, along with his scent.

Then it struck me.

The two of us shot up when multiple smells filled the air, making my stomach clench.

We were followed, not just one but six individuals. One of them was the pretentious human from earlier.

My day can’t get any better. And is that a baseball bat? Great. Fucking great.

I swear. I’m cursed to find trouble anywhere I go.

“Hello, freaks.” The guy in the middle began. “Whatcha doin’ out here in the forest?”

The others began spreading out and surrounded us.

“Planning something nasty I bet.” A human to my right spat.

“You will pay for what you did to me, you bitch. Just so you know, my father is the dean of this university. No one will ever hear a word of what I did here and what we will do to you.

'Dean’s son, David Silverstone, assaulted by an insane student in the woods within campus grounds. His friends graciously helping him fight off the lunatic until she passed out and was carried to an isolation chamber for monitoring, later finding out about her severe psychological disorder.’ Now wouldn’t that be a hit in the papers!” The bastard and his companions cackled and snickered, some of them stealing glances between my legs and I felt my skin crawl.

Tai'chi growled lowly, silencing them for a brief moment. He was getting mad but held his ground.

“And you,” the human pointed, “you beast. It won’t be hard antagonizing you, people will no doubt believe you were the one who violated the schoolgirl and left her in the woods to die.”

This fucking—

I felt a hand on my shoulder just as I was about to start, gently gripping, in hopes of trying to calm me down. He knows they were baiting us on making the first move. He shook his head, and an idea popped up.

Taking a deep breath, I attempted to make my voice as girly as possible, sounding so hilarious, like those overdressed, flashy high school girls with flowery perfume so strong I wrenched every time I get a whiff of it.

Provoking them would do.

“Oh, I’m so scared! Should I get on my knees and beg for mercy? Oh please, great and noble one, have mercy on my poor soul.” My voice laced with mockery and sadness, with my legs fake trembling and my arms flailing.

And did Tai'chi just snort?

“If you beg nicely, I will perhaps give you a chance to— ”

My sudden wheezing interrupted him and I laughed. Hard. I can’t believe he bought my terrible acting! I expected him to straight-up be offended rather than actually bite the false bait. He is dumber than I thought.

I was holding my middle by the time I was done. Tai'chi’s shoulders were moving slightly, probably chuckling and trying to hold back his amusement.

“Did you honestly take it seriously??? I can't— oh my God!” I choked out once more before I went on.

“There’s no chance in hell I’m gonna bow to you, not even one degree of an angle, you foolish, idiotic, spoiled, bastardized son of a bitch.”

His face was turning red out of rage and oh! Wasn’t that a sight to behold?

“You brat!” Turning his head to the others, he yelled, “What are guys standing there for?! Get them!”

Good.

Perhaps they didn’t catch my hands slipping on my beloved crimson knuckle dusters out of the bag when I was laughing then, tugging down my hoodie’s sleeve to hide it.

“Don’t move.” I told the orc, whose eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“But—”

“Just don’t.” I said with my voice firm. I will take them on my own. I can’t have him getting in trouble and people blaming him for being an orc. Imagine that. The ones who attacked him will be viewed as victims because they were up against him, an orc. Numerous humans will jump at the chance to throw dirt at their race, a single act of self-defense treated as a one-sided assault to humans, the thought of it being enough to somehow remove all of them from the city, but everyone knows it's not that simple. Dimwits.

I strode forward without earning his response, waiting for the first person to come at me.

I took my stance, although it was more of preparing half of my body since I was still hiding both of my hands.

They all seemed confused and hesitant, which was what I was going for. To me, and those with experience in hand-to-hand combat, this is one of the most basic stances, but fundamental, nonetheless. A simple form that can determine the outcome of a fight. With my right foot forward, left foot back, both firmly planted to the ground, and my dominant hand wearing my dusters. In their eyes, it was…wrong, foreign. Some may even say it’s an open vulnerability, showing how inexperienced the opponent is, but oh, it is the exact opposite.

I didn’t see Tai'chi’s expression, though. I was on alert and getting into my zone to peer at him, one motion that can put me in a compromising position. Did he notice my brass knuckles? Likely.

“Scared to hurt a little girl like me?” I enticed.

Finally, the one beside their alleged leader charged at me.

A typical amateur approach.

The guy, about two inches taller than me, threw a right punch, which was a huge mistake.

Predictable.

I smirked under my mask and dodged it not a second before it connected. Making him falter as I grabbed his arm and brought it down to my knee, dislodging his joints.

A high-pitched scream of pain broke out of him as he dropped down on the forest ground, gripping his bent-off arm, cursing, but refused to rise and fight me again.

I gave him one last glance before I looked back at the others.

“Who’s next?”

****************************************

Those human shits just can't leave them alone! Interrupting their supposed-to-be official introduction! There's more to the orc that meets the eye *wink* Who is he exactly? Why was he so... observant?

Part 4 is actually on its third revising— and I'm still trying to come up on HOW to phrase my next words to lead to part 5. I let me brain take a break from spewing senseless words for now so I'll probably post the next part of this later or tomorrow

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed! And I'd appreciate it if you have some advice for me, or just point out some mistakes I made! Thank you

Ps. This is really not perfect formal writing if you're wondering. I just type away whatever comes into my mind, and then proofread it to the best I can. And I hope you don't mind me using a lot of spaces. It... sort of makes my mind clear and continue moving forward, and it helps me when I'm reading it again, mentally taking note that with every line between spaces there's a slight pause and again, read it clearly like you were the one thinking it. I don't know how to explain how my own brain works but I guess that's that?

Tags: @kokokatsworld @crackinanutshell

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smokeybrandreviews · 3 years

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F*ck Batman

After i finished the first season of His Dark Materials, i figured i might as well check out the other shows I've heard are good but were behind some ridiculous paywall i had no interest overcoming. There were a few candidates, Euphoria and Chernobyl were definitely at the top of that list but i wanted something a little lighter, a little more fantastical so i opted to check out Titans. I’m not a DC dude but my people who are, say this thing is pretty okay. I wanted to see for myself so i ran threw both seasons. I ain’t like. I was entertained but i can’t say I'm fan. There is merit to this show and it might get it’s sh*t together enough going into that third season, also getting that HBO money, but i was left wanting. However, upon my viewing, i noticed some things. This isn’t a review, but more sh*t that made an impression.

I really, really, liked this version of Raven. The youngster they got to portray her, Teagan Croft, is perfect in the role. I absolutely loved every second onscreen, even if that whole “I’m terrified of my powers” arc lasted WAY too long.

How the f*ck was Trigon the very first big bad? How you blow your load that fast? That’s like the DCEU going from zero to Doomsday in two movies. The f*ck?

Speaking of Trigon, those effects were awful. This show really needed that infusion of HBO/ATT money because whoa.

And as if to drive my point home even further, f*cking Dr. Light’s costume is mad terrible. Like, the worst. None of the costumes are really any good, except for Donna Troy’s and kind of Nightwing’s? The rest are high end cosplay at best.

Trigon to Deathstroke? For real? Whatever, bro.

Didn’t expect Ravager so soon. Absolutely love that Ravager is here. Chelsea Zhang is mad dope and embodies the character perfectly. She’s snarky, cunning, violent, and every bit the Rose Wilson i expect.

Surprised to see the Atomic Family in anything, ever. That sh*t was a super-deep cut. I had to look that sh*t up to make sure i was seeing what i was seeing.

Papa Dick is the best Dick.

The guy who plays Jason Todd has a weird f*cking face and it wigs me out every time he’s onscreen.

The music in this show is pretty bloody excellent. I kind of feel like that's where all of the budget went because, goddamn, there are some bops in this thing, for sure. That opening theme is f*cking ridiculous!

What the f*ck is going on with Hawk and Dove? They’re metahumans, literally the personification of war and peace. Who the f*ck greenlit these versions? They’re both just assholes in hockey pads with debilitating anger issues. Sh*t whack son.

Also, Hawk dick don’t work.

And Dove wants the Dick dick.

Lots of filler episodes, man. It feels like I'm watching an old anime from the Nineties.

Starfire took an entire season to grow on me. Anna Diop, the chick who plays her, was awful in at the start of the show but she got much better toward the end. She really came into her own, though, the second they teamed her up with Donna. They have great chemistry together.

Lots of wholesale murder, man. Like, so much murder. Constant stream of bodies, on both sides of the conflict. Sh*t is wild. I don't understand how Supes exist in this world, catching bodies like it's a baseball game out there. Bunch of f*cking costumed psychopaths just out in the streets, brutalizing people to death.

Show suffers from that “too many villains” thing. Just in the second season, you start with Trigon, move on to Doctor Light, then Deathstroke shows up, but the ultimate bad is CADMUS shenanigans. Also, Rachel is still doing her weird demon sh*t on the side, too.

I like Donna as much as i like Raven. Conor Leslie was chef kiss level casting. Also, i mean, she’s gorgeous.

I like the level of diversity in this cast. Lots of representation onscreen. Kind of wish there were more black folks, though.

Lots of melodrama. So much forced melodrama. I get that this is a teeny drama like experience but too much is too much, you know? I can only take so much teenage angst before i completely disconnect.

Titans is a decent watch, not really a decent show. it’s kind of all over the place but i understand the intent. I’m not super into all of the edgy, grimdark, reimaginings and this show has a REAL bad case of that but there are a lot of good ideas in it. I’m not a DC guy so this was a hard sell for me and the pitch was good, but not good enough. I imagine fans of the comics or the old cartoon show might like this take but, for me? Meh.

#Titans #DC #DC Comics

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mandelene · 4 years

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Idk if you're still doing drabbles since the post was from yesterday (came across it too late 😅) so feel free to ignore this. But in case you are, how about this: very hot summer day. Madeline's exhausted because of the heat (low blood pressure I guess), Amelia's full of energy and hyperactive. You go where you want from here. Thank you! 💕

This drabble prompt has been sitting in my inbox forever and I’m so sorry! On the bright side, I wrote a lot for it.

You guys are trying to hurt poor Maddie again. Heartless fiends! Your wish is my command though, so here you go, lol.

Too Cool for You

Word Count: 1154

"Tag, you're it!"

"Amelia, I'm tired. It's too hot."

"Oh, don't be such a baby!"

Madeline isn't sure how Amelia has the energy to be hurtling up and down the driveway like this. She feels like she's melting. The heat has started seeping into her muscles and bones. The air is thick and humid, and her scalp is burning because she forgot to put a baseball cap on. She doesn't remember the last time it was this sweltering in June.

"I'm not! It's just...It's..." Even keeping a train of thought at this point is proving to be difficult.

Amelia finally stops running around like a madwoman and tilts her head to the side in confusion. "Maddie? You don't look so good."

"Just...Just too hot," she sighs. She hears a car coming up the block and sluggishly turns around to look who it is.

It's only Dad -- he's back from work.

"So do you wanna keep playing or not? 'Cause if not, I'm gonna go ask Ivan if he can--"

The world suddenly becomes fuzzy. Black clouds dance across Madeline's eyes. She tries to reach out a hand to grab something, but Amelia is standing too far away. There's nothing else around her but grass and concrete. Everything seems to slip away for a moment, and time stills.

The car gets closer and stops in front of the driveway. Her breathing quickens. Panic races through her veins. She hears Dad say her name but doesn't see him. Amelia screams.

Her legs give out, and her knees slam into the burning cement. Her upper body starts to pitch forward, but she lands in someone's arms. Oddly enough, she doesn't feel any pain.

"Maddie!"

Madeline groans. Her forehead, neck, and back all feel sticky and clammy. When she opens her eyes, everything is surprisingly clear again. She's slumped against Dad's chest like a ragdoll, and he looks down at her with a very serious expression on his face. And because she's scared and doesn't know what's going on, she feels tears roll down her cheeks.

"We'll bring you inside in a moment, love. You're probably overheated. You girls shouldn't have been playing in the sun," he says, carefully sitting her up. "And don't cry, darling. Don't cry. It's all right."

Her knees sting, and when she looks down at them, she sees speckles of blood oozing out from two sizeable scrapes. She hates the sight of blood -- it makes her want to throw up.

"Shhh, shh, don't worry. We'll fix it."

The front door to the house creaks open, and Papa appears in his kitchen apron and slippers. He says mutters something colorful in French and hurries toward them, slippers slapping loudly down the driveway. "Poor, Madeline. I can't let them out for even an hour, Arthur. I told them to stay in the shade."

"It's all right. This heat is enough to make anyone ill. "

Dad grips her waist and arm tightly and, with added support from Papa, she's able to stand. They carefully walk her into the house and over to the living room couch -- and oh god, does it feel amazing to be in the air-conditioning again.

Amelia bounces in and out of her vision, pacing around the couch and asking things like, "Are you taking her to the hospital? Is she having a heart attack? Is she gonna die? Can I have her iPad Pro?"

"Stop it. It's going to be fine," Dad says as he's stacking pillows under Madeline's feet and legs. "Francis, could you bring a glass of juice -- doesn't matter which kind...And ice."

"Ouai, of course."

"How are you feeling, Madeline? Any better?" Dad asks, crouching beside her. "Still too hot?"

"My head hurts."

"Sit tight. I'm going to bring my bag from the car. Amelia, watch your sister for a second, please."

"Okay," Amelia says, but as soon as Dad crosses the threshold, she yells, "It's been more than a second!"

"Don't test my patience!" he barks back, not even turning around.

Amelia sighs, sits cross-legged beside the couch, and murmurs, "What do you think he's gonna do to you? Give you a shot? Call an ambulance? Put stitches in your knees? Don't worry, I won't let him."

This is not the least bit reassuring.

Papa returns with a tall glass of cold apple juice and an icepack just as Dad appears with his backpack of torture tools.

"Thanks," Dad says, taking the ice from Papa and placing it on Madeline's forehead. He also passes the glass of juice to Madeline and has her take a few sips.

Then, he unzips his bag and pulls out a blood pressure cuff along with his stethoscope. The entire time, Amelia watches on intently, not wanting to miss any of the action.

He wraps the cuff around Madeline's left upper arm and shoots her a little smile. "Just going to make sure it's nothing more serious, all right?"

Madeline nods, watches Dad put his stethoscope on and holds still when she feels the diaphragm against the crook of her arm. This isn't the first time he's checked her blood pressure. She's prone to bouts of weakness in the morning before breakfast.

"87 over 60 -- a bit low," Dad says before pressing two fingers against her wrist. "Pulse is fine."

He then rests the back of his hand against her cheek. "No fever. How do you feel now?"

"Better," she sighs. Her head doesn't hurt as much as it did a few minutes ago.

"That's good. Rest here for a while. All that's left to do is to bandage those cuts on your knees."

From her front-row spot, Amelia frowns. "What? That's it? Aww, man."

Dad raises a brow and laughs. "What do you mean 'that's it?' What did you expect?"

"I dunno, I thought you were gonna do something gross or cool," Amelia says, very obviously disappointed.

Papa also laughs and shakes his head at her. "There are popsicles in the freezer if you're looking for something more exciting. Bring one for your sister as well."

"Yay!"

"I want grape," Madeline adds.

"Okay!"

Dad, meanwhile, pets her arm soothingly and says, "Don't pay her any mind, poppet...Amelia, did you put that cream on your foot rash today as I asked you to?"

Already halfway to the kitchen, Amelia shouts back, "No!"

"Of course not, I suppose that's not cool enough to bother with either," Dad grumbles, rolling his eyes. "Would you prefer an anti-fungal injection in your foot instead?"

"NOOOOO!"

"Stop scaring her," Papa chides.

"Fear is a very good motivator."

"Arthur."

"Not all children respond to kindness, compassion, and reason like Madeline does, Francis."

That gets a small giggle out of Maddie, and she can't help but feel miles better when Papa momentarily lifts the icepack on her head to give her a kiss.

She doesn't mind being the center of attention for a while.

#hetalia #aph canada #aph nyo!canada #aph america #aph nyo! america #aph france #aph england #aph face family #overheated #too cool for you #drabbles

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waterfall-mirage · 4 years

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So I wanted to write some theif Chat Noir and Marichat and came up with this

Sorry if the spacing is off this is being Sent from iPhone™️

A criminal.

Explained simply by the dictionary: a person who has committed a crime. A lawbreaker, delinquent, villain, culprit. These are all words you’d associate with someone who lived a life of crime.

So clearly- speaking in an obvious term- one should not get themselves into any trouble of the outlaw type. Yet somehow the bad luck seemed to find Marinette everywhere she went. She didn’t know when the infatuation had started, but she could remember seeing him on the news a few weeks ago when she had gotten home from her internship with Agreste fashion. She had to stay late as Natalie had requested her to revise some upcoming fall designs. As tired as Marinette was there could possibly be no way she could turn down an opportunity to add her own touch to such a massive collection.

Stepping through the door she lazily threw on some sweatpants, let her hair down from a tight headache inducing bun, and flicked on the small box t.v that sat on her kitchen counter. There was a low humming noise from the device as it tuned to find a channel. Marinette rolled her eyes, she needed to save up for an appliance that wasn't almost older than her. She turned away grabbing the pink kettle off of her stove filling it with some water. Another classic dinner for a starving artist, instant ramen. Pulling her bowl and chopsticks from their designated spot she listened into the news channel. Chat Noir had struck again, this time a watch store. The helicopter cam followed him as he seamlessly bounced between the roofs of homes. Marinette stepped forward from her position of leaning on the stove trying to get a better look at the tiny screen. Dressed clad in black as usual the unknown street cat did what he does best vanishing in between two buildings, a considerably dark alley even for seven o’clock in late summer. The helicopter hovered for a moment before the screen changed back to Nadja Chamack. Marinette let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Turning back to the stove to finish her meal. Chat Noir was a force to be messed with, he had already stolen three paintings from the Louvre successfully, rumours saying his fourth was nearing soon. The police have no clue on where to look or how to find him. Nicknamed by the public Chat Noir was “the vanishing kitten”. The name undermined his work, so he claimed he was going to step it up a notch.

Although Marinette never agreed to be a part of it.

The sweetest of dreams were brought to her that night. A wonderful extravaganza of her showing off her very own fashion line at Agreste fashion. The theme was 1960’s era mixed into modern fashion. Blissful, teals, reds, ivories, yellow, pinks dancing along with patterns, skirts, and thigh high boots washed over her. An Airy white translucent button up blouse with bell sleeves paired with a deep red pencil skirt. She could feel her dreamself twitching to start the sketching process. However, instead of witnessing her dream unfold she was unfortunately startled out of it in her dark room. Marinette rubbed her eyes as the sirens of Paris’ police department whizzed by flashing red and blue lights briefly through her windows. Groggily she reached over smacking her night table until her hand came in contact with her phone. Squinting at the brightness the phone displayed the time of two in the morning. She groaned pulling the pillow over her head to try to drown the noise out. Until she heard a thud from her balcony. Blue eyes opening behind the soft pillow Marinette’s heart dropped at the sound.The wind must’ve knocked one of her plants over, that's all. She sat up peering over to her french doors there was nothing to be seen in the pitch blackness of the night. Marinette let out a sigh of relief, what was she thinking? She placed her pillow back in its original position laying back down.

“C’mon, Marinette” she whispers to herself. “Get a grip”. She closed her eyes once again.

Chk. Chk. Chk.

Then she hears it, a slight rattle. A familiar rattle, the same rattle she’d dealt with when she first moved in trying to unlock the door. She now knew there was a slight left turn jiggle she had to do to get it to unlock. But clearly this intruder isn't one of the friends Marinette told this trick to. She panics jumping out of bed, she has no place to hide in a studio apartment. In the dark she blindly reaches for any sort of weapon. Her small hand grasps the baseball bat her dad had given her as a defense weapon when she moved out. Of course at the time she laughed at it but still hugged her papa anyway, joking that she’d take up baseball soon. Her blood goes cold, what an awful thing to come true, she thinks.

The rattling stops Marinette lets out a mini sigh, maybe it was a Chat Noir copycat that just wasn’t cut out for the robbing life. She lowered the rod down her shoulders sinking a little. “Whew” she manages to let out.

Then the door swings open. Marinette holds back a scream lifting up her weapon “Whoever is trying to get in here I don’t have much but I will defend my life for it!” She pathetically calls out in no particular direction. Marinette can’t see much of anything until she spots them. Two glowing green eyes in the darkness of the room. She lets out a tiny shriek waving her bat around, she feels a “thwoop” in her hands. In fear of the unknown Marinette swings her arm frantically towards the wall her fingers just barely smacking the light switch. The baseball bat which she thought she had acquired was actually an umbrella, that was now spread. Still holding her guard Marinette lifts the “weapon” pointedly towards the black figure in her partially lit apartment.

A chuckle leaves the cats lips as he walks towards her. “Aw, Princess opening up so soon? We just met” he smiles coyly at her. The hairs on the back of Marinette’s neck rise. Up close Chat Noir is handsome, which Marinette decides is very unfair as she’s currently being robbed by him. However, she’s also certain he couldn’t be much older than her as well. Which gave her a bit more confidence to tell him off. As he approached she jabbed the umbrella at him which humoured the cat as he lifted his hands up in the air as if he had been caught in the act. A devilish smile displayed in amusement. Chat Noir began to move in closer and she got a better look at the thief. His golden hair disheveled in front of his face casting a slight shadow over his viridescent eyes which seemed to glow. There was a black mask covering his upper face from cheek bones to brow. Black cat ears were perky twitching as he moved as if picking up on things. He had a small black pouch tied around his waist which seemed to be full. Marinette speculated it was used to stash smaller items such as jewelry or watches as he had stolen earlier that day. His boots were somehow quiet as he maneuvered towards her. She tried to keep distance with the umbrella at arms length but quite true to his cat nature he slipped through the barrier. Red and blue lights flashed outside her apartment once again. Marinette left with only a few options left resorted to the cry for help. As she parted her lips the cat seemingly doubled his speed to prevent what he knew was about to happen his leather clad hand covered her mouth in seconds.

“Shh they’re coming.” He coo’s pointing upwards and winking as the sound of a helicopter chopped past them. Marinette noticed a puff of air that had left his chest. A sigh of relief most likely. “Chat Noir, charmed to meet you” He turned to her, sneaky green eyes burning a permanent image in her mind. He gently removes the umbrella from her grasp lifting her hand to place a kiss on her knuckles. Marinette makes a face in disgust retreating her arm back to her side.

“You are?” Chat continued on pretending Marinette had not just clearly shown she wanted nothing to do with him. A smile so sweet perked up his features even the baker’s daughter felt her stomach protest. Marinette confused, and quite frankly still scared gathered the courage to fiercely bark back at the mangy cat. “None of your business, now leave!” She crosses her arms over her chest. He sighs in a feigned love sick kind of way placing the back of his hand against his forehead gloved fingers curled. “Such a shame I don’t get to match such a pretty name to an even prettier face” his body language shifts and a devilish glint in his eye shows he’s toying with her, playing with his prey before he feasts. “However, I think Princess suits you well.” Chat practically purrs. Marinette can’t help the shiver that runs down her spine. Her cheeks heat up and she curses her body for being weak to even a compliment from a criminal.

“Relax, okay?” He spins the now closed umbrella between them. “I’m not here to rob you, i'm here for refuge” Chat states matter of factly before turning away from her and walking around her apartment like he owns the place. Spotting the kitchen a little “oh!” leaves the self proclaimed non-burglars mouth as he struts over to the fridge. Marinette who was previously frozen to her spot comes back to reality. Well who does this mangy cat think he is? She stomps after him shutting the fridge. Chat Noir mewls pulling his thumb out of the closed fridge door suckling on the injured digit. “I don’t know who you think you are, but you don’t just go around taking refuge in random peoples homes!” Marinette whisper yelled pointing at him. Chat rolls his glowing eyes still sucking on his thumb. “Now look at me im involved in your stupid crime” she pokes his chest which she refuses to admit is very hard at the moment. He gives her a deadpan as if to say “yeah, yeah, i’m listening”. This enrages the bluenette further.

“And give me my umbrella back!” She swipes the black umbrella from his greedy paws. Marinette marches over to the still open french door the cool August night breeze flowing into her apartment. “Out!” She calls pointing with the umbrella. Chat grins a cheshire smile appearing ear to ear. Marinette isn’t completely sure how to feel about his demeanor. A snicker leaves him and his shoulders bounce as if to show his amusement.

“Oh, i’ll go” Chat smirks walking towards her from the shadows of the kitchen.

“But I like you princess” he firmly states. Chat Noir saunters towards her in true cat fashion in long strides of his legs. Marinette's heart rate picks up as he nears. What is going on with her? He’s close, too close Marinette decides. When she takes a step back it’s into the door she realizes she can’t get enough distance between them. His nose mere centimeters from her face she blinks, once, twice, his glowing eyes still boring into hers.

“So I'll be seeing you again” he whispers. Marinette’s breath hitches, hands pressed to the glass door behind her. He salutes her with a wink “Goodnight, Princess, see you soon!” With that he leaps off of her balcony and into the night. Wide blue eyes stare at the bright white moon. Her hands clutch her chest wrinkling her newly made pyjama shirt. “Oh Marinette what have you gotten yourself into now” she whispered into the night. Marinette slid down the door continuing to keep eye contact with the moon. Safe to say she didn't sleep well that night.

#miraculous ladybug #i have more to post the word doc is 5k #just testing the waters loll #i havent written in a long ass time #sorry if its bad but it needed to be out of my word doc #marichat #marinette dupain cheng #chat noir #maricat #adrien agreste #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #theif chat noir #ml fic #ml fics #mlb fic

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thorsstorms · 5 years

Text

Abroad part 10

(Chris Hemsworth x Reader)

Summary: Being the Hemsworth Kids’ Nanny, you were vowed to keep it strictly professional for their sake, but do the stolen glances go unnoticed between you both?

Word count: 6k ish idk

Warnings: The lot y'all. Fingering, unprotected sex (y'all wrap that shit) 18+! VEGAS BABY.

A/N: if you want to be tagged, PLEASE SEND AS AN ASK.

Masterlist

“India, I don’t want to say it again.” Her wet swimsuit was still on the floor in the upstairs bathroom, just as it was thirty minutes ago.

“Put the tablet down and do what she says or I swear you will not see that thing for a week.” Chris rounded the kitchen corner to eye her, watch her huff and throw it down on the couch and slowly walk for the stairs.

Today was not her day. She had been defiant since the moment she woke up, crying because she didn’t want to eat breakfast, sad that she doesn’t have the sandals that she likes in California, heart broken that the shirt she wanted was in the washer. It was enough to drive you crazy for the day.

You threw the blanket you were folding on to the back of the couch and sat down next to one of the boys who was making seemingly a million little paper airplanes. His fine motor skills weren’t very sharp, so the edges were very crooked and not creased, but he didnt care. His little fingers did what they could to keep him entertained.

Sasha was your saving grace compared to the other two. He was easy to please, and compliant, the easygoing child, much like you were.

Chris had been seated at the kitchen table for the past hour on his laptop trying to memorize maps and try to plan out what we were going to be doing. He had been watching travel sites for information, trying to track how long the drives were from each stop. It sounded like too much work honestly, you were a road trip veteran. You learned to go with the flow, it is hard to follow a timeline, but you left him to it. He had ever done this across the states, you had.

By some grace of god, Elsa was going to be flying into LA and was going to stay with the kids. Back months ago, you both had this time planned for Paris, the kids were going to fly out of Paris with their mother to Spain and spend two weeks with them while we were all in Europe.

This ment begging Chris for an extra night in Vegas. Originally only staying one night at the Mirage because it seemed the most kid friendly to you. You on the spot asked him to cancel those reservations and book two nights at Paris instead. It was your absolute favorite hotel of them all, and was home to your favorite restaurant that looked over the Bellagio fountains. He had never been, so either way he didn’t care but you were determined to show him the best time possible.

Plus you had a surprise in mind, located in Treasure Island, and maybe another in the Venetian. You were going to have to be sneaky about it, deciding to call Gen later in secret and make sure it would be okay, she would get it setup for sure.

“Go fly one of these at Papa, tell him to get off the computer and come play with you,” you whispered quietly in Sasha’s ear. He turned to you with a mischievous smile, starting to giggle and cover his mouth to stay quiet. He picked a few up off the floor and one from the coffee table and started to tiptoe across the room, moving slowly like he was a spy. Your gaze shifted between Chris and the creeping ninja on his way to attack.

He was sat hunched over the computer with his hand covering his chin, eyes scanning the screen.

“Papa!” Sasha’s high pitched voice broke the silence, pelting all four airplanes like they were baseballs at his head. “Come play with me!” He jumped suddenly at the sound of his voice, watching the paper fall on to the keys.

“Play with you? You want me to come play with you?” He rose from his seat as the boy slowly nodded his head, ready to dart in the opposite direction to get chased. You watched Sasha dart around the room, Chris on his tail, Tristan running to you to take cover.

Later that night he was stuck back at the laptop after the kids were in bed. Sat against the headboard looking for hotels around your hometown regardless of the fact that you had told him there was no way your mother was going to allow that. He was afraid of intruding on her since you insisted it be a surprise. A compromise was reached when you agreed to call her in the morning and tell her that you were coming again, but only her.

Trying to pack the last of the clothing proved to be a bigger job than you had anticipated. Everything was washed and the kids were finished, but you swore he had brought his entire closet with him.

“How the heavens did you fit all of this in here in the first place!?” Trying to opt for a new way to arrange the luggage.

“I told you I would do it, just leave it be!” He pulled his eyes away from the screen, watching you surrounded by clothing on the floor.

“Really? If you packed this, nothing would be folded and there would be no order to anything. Then I would lose sleep over it.” It ended up working by putting all the shoes in a duffle bag, yours included, then putting some of his things in your two bags. Remaining in control of all the little things was what kept you sane. You ignored his continued obsession over the computer screen and resorted to pulling through drawers to make sure everything was out and your weren't leaving anything behind when you both left in the morning.

Inside a drawer of the dresser was two scripts that had been sent to him, some other paperwork, and a manila folder. You grabbed them all out, knowing they would be forgotten if you didn’t, and tossed them all on the top of the closed suitcases, not knowing where to put them at the moment. You watched as the papers slid off the top of the suitcase to a sloppy pile on the ground. You had always had an amazing aim.

The papers were gathered in a pile and you sat down to try and straighten them out and shove them all in the folder when a certain few words caught your eye.

“MARVEL TWO FILM CONTRACT”

The stapled papers got singled out on the carpet in front of you, flipping over the next 10 pages, seeing zero signatures. The contemplation zoomed through your brain, whether you should even be snooping or not. You continued anyway, hyper focused on the documents in hand.

Not a single pen mark was on any of the papers besides the last, signed fresh by Kevin Fiege in black ink, dated almost four weeks ago. You tried to conceal the confusion, silently covering your mouth and glancing back up to him, who was not paying a lick of attention to you.

Why had he not signed it yet? Did he not want to finish this? Its only two films, much smaller than the last.

“Chris,” your voice was quiet and trying to gain the courage to ask, but heard easily over the sound of the fan in the room. You were met with a hum, not looking your way yet. “Are you- do you not want to do this?”

As if he suddenly knew exactly what you were talking about, he shut the computer and sat up, staring at you on the floor with the other papers in a pile. The sudden urge to defend your curiosity took over.

“I-I wasn’t snooping, I promise. I was just, you were going to forget this stuff and, I pulled it out. It-They fell.” Your words were having trouble making it out to make sense, though he didn’t move from his spot to grab anything from you.

He took a deep breath, running a hand over his face, rubbing his eyes. He motioned for you to join him on the bed and you followed quickly, bringing the papers with you.

“I didn’t sign them yet.” He said, pulling the paper from your grasp flipping back a few pages. “The filming period is 18 months- maybe longer, due to start in November.” He pointed out a section on the fourth page, stating the filming period and locations. You still didn’t understand. So what? You knew he had done more rigorous work in the past, what was two more movies, and then being done with it?

“Do you not want to do this?” You asked again. Your question remained the same.

“(Y/N) it’s not that I wouldn’t want to do the movies, of course I would want to do them. But it’s a very long filming period. Two big movies back to back again. I filmed Ragnarok, then Infinity war, and Endgame all back to back and was pretty much gone for a straight year and a half. Almost two.” The longing feeling that would take place inside yourself during that period was treading up lightly. He hadn’t been legit filming the entire time you’ve been with them. He had just finished. But it was his job, and he built this character into something far deeper than expected. The obligation to finish the story was far greater than the obligation to be selfish and not do two last movies, at least that is what you were thinking.

“I don’t understand.” The air was starting to hang heavy over your confusion.

“Doing something like that again, being contractually bound to it, it was hard on the kids. Me being away for long periods of time. It was hard on me. It was- It was hard on my marriage.” Finally understanding where this was going. You stayed silent, thinking about it. The timeline matches up, something you had never thought about before. You never pried him for answers, you figured he would tell you if it mattered. This was him telling you. Now, it matters to him. “It is not that I don’t want to do the movies. It’s just the rough draft of the schedule that- that stresses me, I guess.”

“You’re job is not easy.” He put the papers aside on the nightstand. “I can’t tell you what to do. But if I could, I think I would tell you to sign them.” He leaned back on the pillows while you put the laptop on your nightstand and adjusted the blankets. “I think that you can pull this off. It’s just two more years and you can take off as long as you’d like. You have worked like crazy these past couple years. Cranking movies out, one after another. You’ve made your mark Chris.”

You paused to let him speak. To tell you that you don’t know what you are talking about or that he just doesn’t want to do it at all. But he didn’t speak. He laid in contemplation, staring at the ceiling and listening to your words of encouragement.

“Don’t worry about the kids, don’t worry about me. You can be selfish about this, finish what you started.” He laid still in his quiet thought. It became clear to you that he had thought about this for a long time, even still didn’t feel like he knew the correct decision. He thought of you, what kind of future would take place if he signed and if he didn’t. He decided himself he wasn’t willing to put everything on the line with you, but that was where he wasn’t thinking clearly.

The silence swallowed up the room, suddenly making you understand why he was so hesitant.

“I’m not Elsa, Chris.” His eyes snapped quickly to you, daring you to continue. “I don’t-I don’t have a modeling career to run towards. I’m not… taking the backseat for you to do this. I like to think I’m sitting in the front seat, ready to grab the wheel for you.” Your silly analogy lightened his mood, but it was true. It was different.

“You think I should sign them.”

“Do the damn thing.” He still didn’t move. “I don’t want to pressure you or anything but-”

“You are not pressuring me, I’ll do it. You are right.” He stood up grabbing a pen from the bedside table. You started to panic, definitely feeling like you had just guilted him into it.

“Are you sure?” You watched him with bright eyes. He deserved to let himself do this. He would never forgive himself if he didnt.

You felt almost a sense of pride as you watched him sign the last page, ignoring your further questions, standing almost naked with only boxers on, almost 11PM.

“Don’t move! Freeze! I want to take a picture.” Of course he didn’t listen and stood up straight. “Say cheese!” He smiled silly and held up the paper showing his signature.

“Woah.” We were coming up on the strip and could see it from the highway. “Which one is Paris?”

“I’m gonna take a guess and say the one with an Eiffel Tower attached to it,” you said, looking at him like he shouldn’t be driving if he couldn’t see it from here. The drive had just reached over four hours. Four hours of you talking about Vegas and stories from the last two times you had come, trying your hardest to leave out the surprise. He’d see it for sure when you got there.

His restlessness was rubbing off on you. Turning onto the south side of the strip, you watched as he admired Luxor and your other favorite, New York New York, through the windshield. Arriving farther down the strip, you eyed the big sign attached to Treasure Island. Granted, it was still another two blocks down the strip but honestly. He seemed oblivious to it, eyes attached to the Bellagio fountains and trying to pull into the valet at Paris.

How the fuck did he not just see that? Surely he knows about it. You decided to not say anything just yet, proceeding to follow directions that Gen had given you both. The luxury of not having to lug your own bags around the hotel entrance and through the casino to find your room had never been presented to you before. Questioning him as he left the keys with Valet without grabbing the bags, waiting for security before going inside. Oh, right.

You walked with two security guys that worked for the hotel, weaving through the hotel to the check-in desks, greeted by a manager. He was promptly handed two room cards, and a hotel brochure.

As soon as you entered the room you went straight for the window to see the view. He gave his thanks to security and shut the door behind him, following you to the window. The giddy smile across your face couldn’t help but spread to his. His arms wrapped around you, resting his head on top of yours. You leaned back against him, relaxing into the enveloping warmth of his embrace.

“Thank you,” you looked out at the view from the room, feeling excited to get out there.

“For what?”

“Just being you, I guess.” You leaned over in his arms and he met you for a kiss. He was gentle and unrushed. You had hoped he would mellow out once you got on the road.

You turned in his arms pushing him across the room till he hit the bed and sat down.

“Just being me, huh?”

“Oh shut it,” wishing he would wipe the smirk off his face. You straddled his lap, throwing your arms around his shoulders, his coming to your hips. He welcomed your kiss, wrapping yourself around him. His smirked disappeared as you both deepened the kiss, his tongue poking around yours. He left gentle kisses across your jaw, pressing hard against your pulse point sending a shiver down your skin.

A knock at the door interrupted your trance, Chris pulling a way and placing a small quick kiss at your lips.

“I love you,” he said quickly going to stand up to open the door. You locked your limbs around him, locking your ankles behind his back while he stood up.

“Oh c’mon, really?” You pouted, clinging to him. He chuckled and unwrapped your feet setting you on the edge of the bed, reluctantly letting go.

You quickly fingered through your hair to make it look somewhat presentable as your bags were piled in the room off a trolly. You immediately went for clothes and a makeup bag. There are so many bags, surely you do not need all of these for two days here.

“Hey woah, don’t we get to finish what we started?” He walked up to you taking the makeup bag out of your hands and setting it on the desk. Before you could answer he had grabbed the bag of your thighs, hoisted to his waist, walking back to the bed, your arms reflexively going around his shoulders. He started to nip at your neck, sitting back down and rigorously trying to go back to what you had started.

“Wait,” you choked out, trying to remember what you were going to say. “I- I made us dinner plans.”

“You did?” he spoke softly, lightening up on his assault.

“Mhmm,” his hands left your hips, pulling under your shirt and running up your exposed skin. His lips found yours for just a moment before you pulled off of him. A groan erupted from his throat as you slipped from his grasp.

“Princess,” His voice carried a coarse, impure ring to it.

“Just have some patience,” your voice was definitely lacking the conviction it needed. The thought of making him wait was almost detrimental to your will, always ready to give in. With only two nights to show him Vegas, you wanted to do something before dinner as well.

You went back for the makeup bag and a black and floral jumpsuit, after all, you can’t wear a dress on a gondola! You hadn’t gotten to do them yet but you were determined to this time around. Through The Venetian they had a gondola river flowing in and out of the casino and hotel, surrounded in an Italian setting and a guide, it looked amazing and romantic and you couldn’t wait to show him.

“Can you wear your blue button down? It shows off your ocean eyes, I like it,” you disappear into the bathroom, whisking away the blush of your confession. Too forward of a request? Hopefully not. The mirror in the bathroom was something to be admired, excited to do your makeup. Getting dolled up sounds so amazing, it was a rare occurrence these days.

“Okay so, we are gonna go to the Venetian. It is down just two blocks. I’m just, so excited!” He eyed up and down the street, admiring the detailed tall buildings, the dancing fountain across the street. So much for the blue shirt he looked so handsome in, you knew he was going to have those obnoxious sunglasses covering his eyes till the sun went down.

“But what are we doing? Just walking?” He fell into step next to you, clasping your hand to keep close through the crowded sidewalks.

“We are going to go on a gondola ride and pretend we are in Italy!” You couldn’t wipe the smile of your face.

“Holy shit,” he said quickly, halting his footsteps in place, almost tugging you backwards. Both of you getting dirty remarks from those behind you. Your heart felt a quick jolt at the thought of people recognizing him and ruining your evening, maybe even the days here. You quickly tugged him forward telling him to keep walking before he draws attention to himself, not bothering to mask the urgency in your tone. You looked up ahead knowing he finally saw it.

“Is that-no way! That’s me!” You shook your head, lugging him along behind you trying to keep up with the pace of everyone else. He kept talking to himself, saying how in the world he didn’t know about it, trying to ask you questions about it. You skipped the part about telling him you had gone a few years ago, though surely it would come up tomorrow.

You answered all he needed to know while you both were in your own little world, floating through the hotel. The detail and styles of the build captured his eyes. The body language he showed was taken back at the extravagance of the hotels, each having a strong thematic presence.

He admired the posters at the entrance of the wax museum, walking to the counter for tickets, thanking heavens there was no line or crowds. He made fun, taking selfies with almost everyone of them. Kissing Dwayne Johnson, laying with Hugh Hefner, standing even taller on his tippy toes with an annoyed look next to Captain America. You indulged yourself, posing with Khloe Kardashian who almost towered over you as Chris did. You got close with Channing Tatum and Bradley Cooper, making him take your photos. Needless to say, you both probably had way to much fun, spending way too much time in each themed room.

An amazing idea popped in your head as you entered the main gala, telling him you were going to play a game of freeze. You positioned him down the couch from Will Smith, on hand on his knee.

“Don’t move!! When the next guests walk through I’m gonna act like I’m taking a picture with you. You can not move! Or it won’t work!” He was on board almost immediately, ready to scare the whoever dared to get close. You moved away from him to check it out, starting to hear chatter coming up the escalator from the outside.

“Oh my goodness don’t move! I’m gonna video!” You whispered to him, running the Brad Pitt, pretending to be interested with him.

You watched from the side, trying your hardest not to reveal him from laughing. If you started laughing, he would to.

The onlookers drifted from each wax figure at the entrance, spotting a perfect seat between Will and Chris.

“Ooo! Take one of me here too!” The woman handed her company an Iphone, skipping to the couch. You watched with wide eyes as he looked like he was about to burst an eyeball from not blinking or breathing. He snuck a small, quick blink, making it difficult not to pee yourself from holding in the laughter. The man slowly lowered the camera, tossing her name into the air to get her attention. He ignored her questioning reply and walked a bit closer, eyeing him.

“What?” She asked him again, ready to pose for the picture, both her arms around their shoulders. As soon as her arm landed she jumped away, Chris screamed at her to scare her and she screamed back profanities, clutching her chest.

The eruption of laughter continued, yours probably obnoxiously ruining the video you were trying to hold steady.

You kept it going as he greeted them both, being the best he could be before you ended it. You approached the couple as they all calmed down, automatically being put in charge of taking photos for them.

You listened as Chris asked them nicely if they could hold off on posting anything for a day or two, asking to enjoy his time here with you, drifting his arm around your back. You blushed from his stare as they nodded in agreement of his explanation.

The four of you ended up snaking through the themed rooms together. You left your separate ways after you airdropped the video to her, reviewing it all together again to catch his blinking.

On the way back towards Paris, you passed through the mall to hit a couple stores, buying too many brushes and a few Jeffree lippies at Morphe. You followed him into Swarovski, refusing to allow him to inform you of the prices of the wrist watches he was admiring.

Dinner was more than what you expected. Gen had come through with the the string pulling. The manager offered you both free wine tasting while you had a stunning table, privately seated along the balcony. The fountains to keep you both entertained for the time being.

“I am genuinely lost for words.” The dessert was sat down on the table, but his eyes were on you. The dark sky and lowlit balcony did the most to hide your rose blush, but you both knew it was there.

“Well I’m glad you like it,” the glass of Sangria seated on the table top had become increasingly attention-grabbing under his stare.

“Come here,” the legs of his chair scratched across the ground as he scooted back from the table. His hands secured around yours, bringing you to sit on his lap, stealing the glass from you and setting it on the table.

You observed his movements with curiosity until he met your lips for a thank you. His hands keeping you from sliding from his grasp. You leaned into his chest, grazing his neck with your fingertips to savour his slow moving taste on your lips. The certain kiss that no words are needed, or exchanged. Striving to accept his appreciation, overjoyed with the romantic atmosphere that was created for the evening. He was quick to create a bliss in you that had you forgetting to breathe, forgetting to act appropriately in public, regardless of the needed privacy.

“I love you,” his promise was whispered against your lips. The kind of moment where your thoughts flash through your mind erupted in your head. Regardless of any crush, or any love you had thought you felt before this moment, it was fake. It was swept away in the wind. Any charm that was presented to you in the past, it was weak. Any humor you found in someone else, it was paled in comparison to the joy he was always radiating on to you. Any soul crushing want, it was ignored and invisible until your eyes settled on him.

“And I love you.”

After a few minutes, you both decided it could be time to leave. Before you could exit the restaurant, you were met with the same hotel manager that gave you the room cards from earlier. She stood strict with two men from security with her. She spoke about offering security if you chose to remain in the casino for the evening.

You stayed stiff, almost behind him as you glance towards the entrance of the restaurant, where two more guards were trying to escort a few photographers out of the casino.

“We can keep professional photographers out, but guests with cameras are a different story.” She gazed between you both with sympathy. Before he could even turn to look at your reaction, you informed her that you would stay for the rest of the evening. It was only almost 10PM.

He didn’t know, but Gen was smart enough to assign you with security for all day tomorrow. Going to S.T.A.T.I.O.N. was the given reason, but also so you could explore further. You obviously didn’t expect to be walking the streets all day long, so nothing of it was much of a surprise to you, just an inconvenience.

Between walking to the room, you admired him as he stopped and took a few photos with people. They were all polite, waiting patiently as he made his way around the group of about 10. There were not many instincts to go in the opposite direction like the first time you ran into this problem with him. Granted it was still kind of weird, but more admirable.

As soon as you got into the room and started to pull off jewelry, you heard him shutting the door behind you, “So, do we get to finish what we started yet?”

You couldn’t hide the laugh that started, “Hmmm… Shower first?”

He groaned, saying he agrees only if he can shower with you. You were not one to say no, after all. He walked straight in there, stripping clothes as he walked across the room. You of course had to grab all the essentials into a bag first to carry in there. There was no way you were going to use that shampoo, soap, and face wash they provide. Before walking into the already steamy room, you gathered his scattered clothing and threw it in the corner on top of his bag. Messy clothing happened to be one of his downfalls.

You placed all your clothing on the counter top before opening the shower door, greeted with a stupid youthful grin, happy he got his way.

“You really are just a big child, you know that?” You switched him spots so the water trickled over you, wetting your hair and warming your skin. You reached for the face wash first, turning away from him when you washed it away and caught him fixated on you.

His fingers working diligently through your hair with shampoo. You didn’t even have to ask. The friction against your scalp was worthy of a licensed masseuse. You held back a groan when he lifted his touch, turning you with your eyes closed so the water could flush the product away. The silent minutes turned softly intimate as he brushed the warm rain back from your face, reaching for the other bottle.

You felt his lips press firmly against your forehead, a gesture that warmed you apart from the water. You leaned forward into his abdomen so the fall of the water hit lower on your back while he ran conditioned fingers through your hair.

The raw intimacy that encompassed him was overbearing. It was almost as if he could feel his heart swell while you display yourself for him to care for. It wasn’t just a wash in the shower. It was the unspoken, ‘I trust you,’ that captured his attention. He remembered the days that you would shyly bare yourself to him and not accept his need to be near you and touching you.

Your tapping fingertips against his back broke him from his thoughts, silently instructing him to continue playing with your hair.

“Okay lean back,” his soft voice broke the silence. You held onto his arms as his hands worked against the waterfall to drain the conditioner from your hair, eventually letting go to wipe your eyes when he slowed to a stop.

You reached for your own body wash, spreading it across his chest and up to his shoulders. “My turn,” you told him.

He waited patiently, zoned in on your expression and touch while you ran your soapy digits across his skin. The pure contentment and innocence of it was driving him almost wild, running down his sides, down his arms, your fingers dancing slowly across his neck.

He quickly returned the favor, the length of his hands covering your back quickly, drawing down your backside and thighs, causing bumps across the surface of your skin to rise. You leaned into him again as he planted soft kisses across the back of your neck while his hands reached the insides of your thighs, squeezing gently causing you to almost lose your footing.

“Your skin is so soft Princess,” his whispers sent shivers down your spine and straight to your core. One hand left the party and traced up to your chest before wrapping around you there and the other finally ghosting over your clit. You jumped slightly in his hold, gasping at the contact.

His fingers slowly circled the nub, painfully, agonizingly slow while he listened to your labored breathing, a soft whine escaping you. Your brain starting to short circuit while you tried to hold on to every ounce of pleasure he would give you. You kept a steadfast grip on his forearms, trying to grind into his touch, a motion to beg for more that ended up driving against his hardening cock behind you.

You stilled hearing his voice in your ear. Two fingers teased your entrance, circling it and dipping his fingertips in to dance around lightly. The slow torture was enough for you to be letting out a quiet plea for more.

They shoved in, stretching you out on his fingers. Your balance almost gone if it weren’t for his arms holding you up. He quickly started to pulse around, tracing inside your slick heat untill the moans withered out to silent pants and your hands gripped his arms almost to tight.

Your eyes clamped shut as a wash of pleasure rolled through you, your walls squeezing around the intrusion while it dragged on till he slowed.

Hot kisses were placed over your neck and shoulder while your breathing was slowing, trying to gasp through the humid air. He was speaking praises in your ear, how good you were cumming around his fingers, letting him bring you there.

His hold released from you, quickly turning off the tap and grabbing for the white fluffy towel to dry you off and haul you out of the shower.

Before you could get a word out he was pushing you backwards out of the bathroom, straight back into the bed. No words needed to be spoken anyway. It was at the point where he just wanted you to feel what he could give you. Feel his love for you, outside of spoken words but through his actions and intentions.

His love ment pushing you to bliss 3 more times with a slow and deep rhythm that had you clawing from the sheets, pillows, to him arms in attempt to ground you from his onslaught. With tears peddling against your will when he thrust into you so deep and hard when you hit your last high, eyes almost blacking out for your overexertion and voice straining from an uncontrolled vocal response. The light headed dizzy feeling you get when he finally blows a load deep inside you after rutting against you for his high when he knew you could take no more. Proclaiming his promises against your neck while burying himself in you, that you knew deep down were not just from a sex high.

His fatigue ridden body laid tilting across you, trying not to crush but muscles shaking in place, refusing to cooperate enough to move farther away.

When you finally came to, almost clear headed enough to fully form a sentence, meaning your muscles lost the strained twitch and your eyes could open enough to focus on surroundings, you found him with a slower breathing pattern than your own, admiring you as if he hadn’t just done so for the past hour.

He brushed away tear marks and messy hair from your skin while you sported red swollen lips, blown out eyes, and deep red marks across your breasts to compliment your skin, courtesy of his attempt at showing affection and appreciation. The sight was a treat for his own to view, but was nothing compared the to the fucked out leaking mess he left you with on your bottom half.

You watched with lost eyes, not enough energy to stop him as his fingers gently ran up your mess, cleaning, gently pressing his seed filled fingers in. Your pelvis shook at the intrusion even though you were almost numb to his touch. The thought of his actions was enough to kick start your belonging underneath his bearing weight.

He pulled away, sensing your wariness, to treat your new marks across your chest to a soothing aftermath. Your arms gaining strength to redirect his lips again, timidly to your own. A soft press of his kiss was meticulous to avoid any more torments of your skin.

“All mine Princess.” A careful watched teetered over your expression, touch ghosting over your jaw as you nodded and rasped an ‘I love you,’ that was returned before you could even finish speaking the familiar the words.

“Don’t move baby, I’ll be right back.” He pulled from your weak hold and came back a minute later with boxers, he put use to a washcloth, and gifted you a clean t-shirt of his that you gladly slipped over your shoulders. You immediately nested through the blankets curling into his arm as a pillow.

“Aren’t you gonna play with my hair?” You asked, closing your eyes.

“Whatever you want.”

Taglist: @keithseabrook27 @odinson-barnes@jonsnowisthesexiestbastard@weekendswithnewtmas@innerpaperexpertcloud@toomanyflowerboys @thefashioncomplex@basmaraafat@imaginationintowords@taketimeandappreciate@superheroesaremytea @vampiregirl1797@ynm1505 @danathewitchywoman @aestheticallynon @thorfanficwriter @disaster-rose @cap-just-said-language @xmarveled

#chris hemsworth x reader #chris hemsworth #hemsy #chris hems

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christinesficrecs · 5 years

Note

Do you know of any good fics where Derek and Stiles don’t hate each other when they meet, maybe they meet-cute, start to date, and fall in love? Kind of like, both are hit with love at first sight? Especially longer fics, if possible. I just want some warm cute stuff. 😊

This is not what you asked for. i honestly can’t think of any long fics that are love at first sight. Instead these are longer fluffy fics, slow burn if you squint really hard.

The Right Book, in the Right Hands by TroubleIWant | 10.6K

Stiles loves his job. Mostly. Like, maybe sixty-seven percent loves. For right out of college that’s pretty good, right? And among people working in the Chicago O’Hare airport he’s positive he’s in the 99th percentile of job enjoyment.

When all is said and done, he really does love putting the right book into the right hands. Especially when those hands are as attractive as the ones attached to Hot Businessman Derek Hale.

only fools rush in by decideophobia | 13.5K

Is it an imaginary date?

No. I met him in a coffee shop.

When?

This morning. It was love on first sight.

A Strong Heart and a Nerve of Steel by lupinus, uraneia | 21.2K

Stiles and Derek wake up married in Vegas. Well, they would have if it was legal.

In which Stiles is the president’s son, Derek is his bodyguard, and Papa President orders them to pretend to be in love for the sake of gay rights.

First Impressions Are Overrated by Leslie_Knope | 14.6K

In Stiles’ defense, he didn’t deliberately ram his grocery cart into the (evidently precarious) pyramid of oranges.

Blind Date With A Book by thepsychicclam | 30.3K

Stiles thought the Blind Date With a Book trend was a great way to drum up business for his small bookshop. He definitely thought it was a great idea after the hot guy kept returning and buying more blind dates with books.

Derek didn’t know how he kept getting set up on blind dates by his family, or why he kept going on them. The highlight of his night was when the date was over and he could go to the little bookshop in town and buy something to read for the rest of the night. He wanted to read, not date.

petals in my pocket by Withpetals_withblood | 36K

Derek is the alpha of a pack of young wolves who are busy finding babysitters, planning holidays, holding jobs and clinging to normalcy. When Peter pitches the idea to plant flowers on the Hale property, Derek doesn't quite take him seriously. That is until he walks into the little floral shop off 1st and Oakheart and meets the strange young man from out of town, Stiles Stilinski.

The Payoff Pitch by Leslie_Knope | 83.9K

Derek is on the cusp of his second season with the LA Dodgers, and as the reigning runner-up Rookie of the Year, the pressure’s on him to become the team’s star pitcher and lead them to the playoffs for the first time in five years. He’s trying to deal with the burden of expectations and really has zero desire to spend any extra time or energy on anything that isn’t baseball.

But then he meets Stiles.

Give Me Back My Bones (maybe then we'll talk) by kariye | 32.6K

Derek meets Stiles on a Wednesday. He comes in for his usual cup of coffee and somehow walks out with hot chocolate, cinnamon on the top, and no idea what just happened there.

Bad Dog Bakery and Café by Boom | 27.7K

Stiles saves an Omega from wolfsbane poisoning. Said Omega now won't leave Stiles alone. Stiles doesn't really have a problem with this.

Help Wanted (But Not Really) by reillyblack | 20.4K

“Stiles, I’ll clear up your confusion about the position. Derek here needs someone to live with him. He’s a difficult person to live with, so I won’t sugarcoat that. But his responsibilities at the company right now make it impossible for him to actually take care of himself and his home. That would be your job,” Laura explained.

Both Stiles and Derek objected at the same time.

Glazed and Confused by wishingonalightningbolt | 13.7K

Stiles is a forensic tech with the San Diego FBI. He thinks he’s been fairly lucky, since he’s never had his life threatened, sustained few injuries, and only has to work with his least favorite agent every once in a while.

And then all of that changes.

#asks #sterek #ficrecs #friends to lovers #sterek au #fluffy fics

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fredheads · 6 years

Text

fred andrews, some things (pt.1)

age 7.

baseball cap his grandpa bought for him. muddy blue jeans. sneakers that are falling apart. rubber ball striped like a pepsi can. scabs on both knees. sings along with his family on road trips. wiggles on the bench in church. tells the other boys that alice cooper has every right to play in the sandlot with them and gets a sock in the jaw for not letting her speak for herself. peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for school, split down the middle. spits in his hand and shakes alice's palm. climbs trees and plays king of the jungle. makes mud pies and plays house. mom writes his address on his shirt collar so he won’t forget it. begs for a puppy until artie caves and says ok. sits on artie’s lap when he drives. sits on artie’s shoulders at the parade. can’t wait to be a man one day. thinks his papa is bigger and stronger and better than anyone else in the whole wide world.

age 10.

newspaper comics at breakfast. artie’s lined hand on the back of his neck. eats hot dogs at ball games with oscar. thinks he might marry alice if she doesn’t slug him before he’s done asking. tells a bigger boy not to litter and gets beat up for the first time. asks for extra whipped cream at pop’s. buys coke in glass bottles with his allowance. scuffs out his brand new sneakers. sprouts freckles where he lets the sun kiss his face. picks flowers for his mom from the new town garden. dreams about getting married. hears “man up” for the first time. gets a newspaper route. takes a girl to the movies with a quarter. washes his dad’s car in the summertime for extra cash. cut that hair, says artie. in case people think you’re a girl too. turns up his music until he can’t hear anymore.

age 14.

hair down to his back, almost touching his blue jeans. bright red converse for back to school. hurts in his tummy when he sees hermione lodge. carves her initials on a tree next to his. hears “get a real job” for the first time. practices all summer to make the basketball team. runs all the bases and is always first at bat. kisses hermione in his bedroom when his parents aren’t home. learns the word faggot when it’s hurled at his back in the hallway. dreams about rock and roll. writes love notes to all the girls he has crushes on. smiles at everyone he sees. kisses bruce springsteen’s picture before bed. meets a boy with ice-dark eyes and a serpent on his lighter, who makes his insides light up like flame.

age 17.

ears pierced by alice in the garage. old-new VW bus. real muscles from working a summer of construction. kisses hermione. kisses sierra. kisses mary. kisses fp. learns the word heartbreaker. lets fp name the band. calls his van a dirty name. practices in the garage until the neighbours get angry. makes artie yell at him. feels grown up. takes the family planning class while the other boys are in shop. learns to wash lipstick out of his shirts. pitches a record season for the rhs baseball team. takes phone calls from university coaches. sobs when hermione decides hiram is better. “you have to be the man of the family” says artie. works double shifts on the job site to pay the bills. doesn’t send his applications in. sits by his dad’s bedside as he gets sicker. cries when his mother drags him to cut his hair. wishes he didn’t have to be a man so soon.

#for the anon i deleted whoops #fred andrews #fp jones #alice cooper #riverdale #fredsythe #hermione lodge #f slur #tw homophobia

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areiton · 6 years

Text

This brought to you by my random musings during my daughter’s softball game...

Derek is a good dad.

OBVIOUSLY he's a good dad. He dotes on the kids, cries the first time he holds them. Sometimes Stiles has a hard time reconciling the gruff, hard edged alpha he fell in love with with the soft, gentle father he so often finds singing to the twins, or sleeping curled protectively around them.

He's s good dad and he wants them to grow up safe. But Beacon Hills is safe, now. There was a time, when he thought it would never be--when he sat down with Stiles and seriously talked about leaving.

But then, life got easier.

Stiles and Lydia bound the Nematon.

Scott, against all odds and predictions, became an alpha he could stand to follow.

Life was safe enough that when an ally told them about the twins orphaned after after a hunter went through their pack. So they took them--because they could, because life was finally safe enough, because they both wanted a family so desperately, it was like a quiet ache, a third member of their little world, the only dissonant note in their life.

And it was perfect. Sure, there were long nights and Lulu had nightmares for months, and Henri wouldn’t speak for even longer. But they were pack and family and Derek--

Derek was devoted to them.

He smiles and thinks, soft and fond, “I married that.”

~*~

Even as they grow up, he doesn’t change. Stiles thinks it’s adorable, is secretly--not secretly, he brags to anyone who will listen and a lot of people who won’t--so damn proud it makes him want to burst. Because Derek does everything. Tea parties with Lulu. Painting Henri’s nails. Movie nights. Curling in their bed in his wolfskin, while they tug on his ears and tumble around him in beta shift.

He even has a Pinterest board, full of crafts and recipes and learning games, that grows and becomes more nuanced as the twins do.

Their teachers adore Derek, with his quick offer to be room dad, his volunteering in the classroom, the gentle way he is with all of the kids, the (always healthy) snacks he brings to every party and activity.

The fact that he’s hot like burning and the other moms dote on him doesn’t hurt. Stiles watches, preening slightly and reminds Kira, gleefully, “I married the shit outta that.”

Derek blushes and the twins roll their eyes--it’s good, that the teachers love Derek because Stiles is (still) a menace.

~*~

But then.

The twins enter sports. Stiles thinks it’s good for them, even though they have a pack--besides he and Derek were in sports. It’s a family tradition. Maybe they’ll even be like their Papa, he tells Scott--maybe they won’t warm the bench all the time.

He figures Derek will be the dad who claps and is unspeakably earnest, who watches every game and every practice and shows up with homemade treats and chilled oranges and all natural juice he squeezed after he grew the oranges.

Stiles thinks, he’ll be the loud one, the one shouting abuse at the umpire and other parents.

Except. Ok. He wants to. He’s got his chair, and his backwards ballcap and Derek at his side with his cooler full of nice treats for the kids and he can’t because the kids are adorable, they’re so damn cute, running around, falling all over each other that he can’t help but coo, and slap at Derek in his glee.

Derek.

Derek is sitting there, glaring.

At a field full of five year olds.

Derek looks about two minutes from wolfing out and what the hell.

“Derek, babe,” Scott says, cautiously.

“Did you see-that was--that boy just pushed Henri!”

Stiles laughs, but it trails off when all Derek does is snarl subvocally and glare. Henri looks over at his Papa’s growl and he flashes his eyes in response to Derek’s fury.

Oh. Oh, this is going to be bad. Stiles is still laughing when he plants a wet kiss on his husband’s neck. “I can’t believe I married you.”

~*~

It gets worse. Derek hates softball. After that first season, he plans not to ever set foot on a baseball diamond again.

Except--their Pops loves baseball, and the twins loves their Pop, and demand they go back.

And since Derek is, whatever else he is, a good Dad, he agrees. Every year, he trots the twins through school and activities, shepherds them from one sports team and extracurricular to the next, but it’s like, when he reaches the baseball diamond, when Henri or Lulu pick up a bat, he loses his mind.

When Lulu is six and playing coach pitch, he gets thrown out of the game--two weeks into the season, the umpire throws him out and Derek sweeps out with his chilled oranges and his folding chair and growling, while Stiles hides his face in his hands.

By the time their eight and Derek gets into a screaming match with the other coach before--oh jesus, his Dad escorts his husband out--Stiles has moved past embarrassment. He waves a hand at the other team, lazily dismissive and grins at the parents on Henri’s team who have been watching his husband have progressively worse meltdowns since Henri was four, and shrugs. “Just think,” he says, a sardonic grin tilting up his lips. “I married that on purpose.”

~*~

When Lulu makes varsity, Derek almost bursts with pride and Stiles bans Derek from coming to the field, ever. He watches from beyond the fence of the field, in his wolfskin, and Stiles smiles to himself. He sighs and tells his dad, fondly, “I married that. On purpose.”

#sterek #eternal sterek #sterek fic #my fic #arei writes fic #softball #baseball #married sterek #kidfic

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smokeybrand · 3 years

Text

F*ck Batman

How the f*ck was Trigon the very first big bad? How you blow your load that fast? That’s like the DCEU going from zero to Doomsday in two movies. The f*ck?

Speaking of Trigon, those effects were awful. This show really needed that infusion of HBO/ATT money because whoa.

Trigon to Deathstroke? For real? Whatever, bro.

Surprised to see the Atomic Family in anything, ever. That sh*t was a super-deep cut. I had to look that sh*t up to make sure i was seeing what i was seeing.

Papa Dick is the best Dick.

The guy who plays Jason Todd has a weird f*cking face and it wigs me out every time he’s onscreen.

Also, Hawk dick don’t work.

And Dove wants the Dick dick.

Lots of filler episodes, man. It feels like I'm watching an old anime from the Nineties.

I like Donna as much as i like Raven. Conor Leslie was chef kiss level casting. Also, i mean, she’s gorgeous.

I like the level of diversity in this cast. Lots of representation onscreen. Kind of wish there were more black folks, though.

Lots of melodrama. So much forced melodrama. I get that this is a teeny drama like experience but too much is too much, you know? I can only take so much teenage angst before i completely disconnect.

0 notes

bojasonwalker · 4 years

Text

The Back Nine: Even without Gators, is there too much football?

PAT DOOLEY | GATOR SPORTS | 5 hours ago

The Back Nine comes at you after a fun season ended because my team can't run the bases. But I will try not to be bitter. I mean, if I was going to be bitter, I have a long list of grievances with you people.

10. I'm getting there. And I may get there this week. Maybe I can get some advice from you fans who deal with this every week. You know, it used to be a fantasy of mine that Florida would just take a year off football and I could be home every Saturday and watch football from noon to midnight. I think I am beginning to understand that it might be great occasionally, but not all the time. It's like you are eating steak every day and it makes you have a hankering for a potato once in awhile. Maybe I have a problem in that I can't just watch the big games. I have to watch every game that my TVs will hold. That's the thing. If things turn sour again and we don't have football in November or December, I am going to be wondering why I thought it was too much. Still, I feel a need to wean myself just a little. Maybe eliminate those mid-week games.

11. When the new hires were made in the SEC prior to this season, who was raising their hand to say, "Wow, Sam Pittman is the best hire." How many of you could have recognized Sam Pittman in a Wal-Mart? In a division with Mike Leach and Lane Kiffin, he seemed like a bit of a buffoon with his over the top pig calls. But he has taken a dumpster fire and made it seem like a nice two-bedroom condo. The Razorbacks should be 3-1 right no if not for a missed call in the Auburn game and nobody was thinking that Arkansas had the talent to be this good. This does not mean Mississippi and Mississippi State made bad hires even though those two coaches are now a combined 2-6. It just means Arkansas made a gutsy choice that is paying off. Although don't start shining up that Coach of the Year trophy yet. This schedule could still lead to 2-8.

12. So remember when Tom Cruise in "Jerry McGuire" left his manifesto in everybody's mailbox and then wonder if he had gone too far? I felt similarly on Monday morning because of an item in Sunday Blog in which I declared Florida's season over. My thinking at the time was that the Gators were the last team that could handle this three week disruption with limited practices and no live action until Oct. 31. Look at what Florida has left and what Georgia has left and then look at the Georgia-Alabama game and it feels like Florida is playing for the Citrus Bowl. I'm not walking this back, but I do want to apologize if I offended anybody's sensibilities. Anything can happen in college football. The season is not over, but I don't like Florida's chances. It doesn't mean I am encouraging people to stay away from the games. You went during 0-10-1. Just stay safe.

13. I have been keeping a running total of two things in the SEC — passing yards and the record of teams in games between the divisions. The latter now stands at 7-6 for the West after the two sides split games. The other stat certainly saw things change in this conference. Now some of that may be because the No. 2 and No. 4 passing teams in the conference had their game postponed, but the numbers took a significant downturn even with Mac Jones lighting up the Georgia secondary for 417 yards. Through three weeks, SEC teams were averaging 277.2 passing yards per game. Last week, with four teams having unscheduled weeks off, that average was down to 212.3. More importantly, SEC quarterbacks were throwing 0.81 interceptions a game the first three weeks and last week averaged two a game. Maybe these defenses are starting to figure things out.

14. Give credit to Florida State for the way it played until the fourth quarter Saturday night and to North Carolina for an incredible comeback. Dan Mullen must have had an exasperated look on his face in quarantine seeing the crowd at that stadium (officially listed at 18,016; yeah, riighhttt). If North Carolina doesn't drop three straight passes with the game on the line ... anyway, it was nice to see none of the Big Three state teams lose (sorry, UCF, you've abdicated). It would be even nicer to see one of them play a game.

15. Let's see, Tampa has the Stanley Cup and Los Angeles has the basketball trophy so is the World Series now the battle for Titletown this year? Geez, can you let the other fans have something? I mean, even the NFL teams have a chance to win it all. Meanwhile, we take you to New York City ...

16. I say goodnight to my Braves for another baseball season and this one was bittersweet. That team captured my heart like few have, getting within a game of the World Series with a cobbled together pitching staff. Of course, the sting comes from having a 3-1 lead on the hated Dodgers and then forgetting the fundamental rules on base running. Anyway, I enjoyed the heck out of the deep run and it reminded me of the NCAA basketball tournament where the bottom line is that all but one season ends with a crushing defeat. I will be rooting for the Rays, but not enough to watch. I appreciate what baseball did for my mental health, but it is like Wilson the volleyball. I will let it float away.

17. The Tweet of the Week goes to Kiffin, who was in a pretty good mood considering what he saw on Saturday — "Tried to pick up @corral_matt by telling him he wasn’t close to my father in laws record. RIP Papa John. Kids miss ya." Kiffin, of course, was married to John Reaves daughter Layla and John Reaves, of course, threw nine picks in Florida's only loss during the 1969 season at Auburn. Corral threw six Saturday.

18. Really enjoyed the Stop Children's Cancer golf tournament out at Haile Plantation on Friday and don't worry, our event will be back in May. I even had some tunes cranked on Friday, although I don't think the people in my group liked this playlist:

• "The Laws Have Changed" by The New Pornographers.

• "Here I Dreamt I Was An Architect" by The Decemberists.

• "Leave Virginia Alone" by Tom Petty.

• "Sunblind" by Fleet Foxes.

•And for an old one from the pre-disco days "I've Gotta Get A Message To You" by the Bee Gees.

Contact Pat Dooley at 352-374-5053 or at [email protected]. And follow at Twitter.com/Pat_Dooley.

http://Twitter.com/Pat_Dooley.

Originally Published 5 hours ago

Updated 5 hours ago

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misawa · 7 years

Note

hello! since you're accepting prompts could you write some MiSawa soulmate AU? >w

omg i’m so down for this!!!! soulmate au’s are my cup of tea so here i go! honestly, i kept on pondering whether i should write something cute or angsty (in the end i gave up so whatever turn the story took i just went with it tbh) but either way, i hope you enjoy this!! ♥

*note: this got really long, and personally i want to continue it, especially since i have A LOT MORE i’d like to write. this drabble almost reached 2k words, so i’m really thinking of turning it into a fic!! that if people like it of course ghdfjbgjd if i does get to that, then i might as well publish it on ao3 :)c

rating: generalcouple: misawaword count: 1,751 wordsdescription: “who needs a soul mate anyway!?” were the words a 12-year-old miyuki kazuya had screamed, whatever pebbles his small hands could grab thrown at the night sky along with all his anger and grief. back then, the 12-year-old boy had no way of knowing that at 15 he’ll be meeting his fated one, at 17 he’d have already fallen in love, shared a kiss, his heart starting its healing. through the many years that had to come though, he’d also learn what sadness truly felt like.

“hello! my name is miyuki kazuya! what’s your name?” that was the first thing a 9-year-old kazuya scribbled across his arms the moment he’d learnt about the existence of soul mates. a long time ago (last week) a certain child had asked his mother “how did you meet father?” and the answer he got was truly out of the ordinary: “mama wrote down a number on her arm and the number showed up on papa’s arm too! so papa wrote back ‘is that your phone number?’ on his arm, and it showed up on mama’s arm too. that’s the first time we talked.”

with that in mind, he’d attempted writing to his soul mate. the first time he wrote to his soul mate there was no reply, no smudge across his skin. nothing. kazuya sulked about it for a good while until he decided to try again, only for this time to get a reply!: “hello!!! i’m sawamura eijun! : D” through the drawings and scribbles of two innocent children, kazuya had learnt that eijun hadn’t replied at first due to him twisting his wrist. he’d also learnt that the two lived quite far away from one another (”hey dad, where’s nagano?”) and that, coincidentally, they both happened to LOVE baseball, each playing a position that completed their partner.

who would’ve thought having a soul mate could be so much fun?

days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, and months turned into years. the more he aged, the more kazuya’d close within himself. he was no longer the bubbly child his mother raised - she was out of the picture either way. he continued smiling, playing baseball a dream he’d never give up on, yet making friends seemed almost impossible, communication would only happen on the baseball field. at the age of 12, miyuki kazuya had realised it had been half an year since he last talked to eijun, more exactly since eijun attempted to write to him. his body was an empty canvas that lacked the random splatters on ink that the younger would draw upon his skin. that night he cried, he yelled, like a child he threw a tantrum, blaming the universe for his misfortune, throwing rocks at the sky with all his strength. “who needs a soul mate anyway?!” he’d been abandoned.

skip a few years, miyuki kazuya was finally in high scool, his first year coming to an end. he no longer wrote to sawamura, and neither did sawamura write to him. a haunting silence, anything but comforting. his fingers would itch each time he’d sit in class and he’d hold a pen; he wanted to write, to talk to the other. his heart begged for it, cried for it - though they have yet to meet, he knew that not talking to the youth left a hole in his chest, a hole that ached and yearned for his soul mate’s love. after all, though he did not want to admit it, soul mates complete each other. it was a reality he couldn’t ignore; his body wouldn’t let him ignore it. not one day would pass without him thinking of eijun at least once, wondering how he’s doing, what’s he up to, and yet the feeling of being unworthy of such a blessing that came in the form of the pitcher was a constant nag in the back of his mind.

—- that fatidic day had come though. never would he have expected takashima rei to be his … cupid of some sorts. that day would remain embedded in his heart and mind for as long as he’d have to live. the day in which he had finally met sawamura eijun.

for some reason, that whole morning he felt antsy, his chest throbbing, heart pulsing; he felt alive, just like the days when he was a clueless child who’d spend a good half of the day writing to his other half. he’d woken up without wishing to go back to sleep, he’d gotten dressed faster than usual, he’d even offered to catch for the upperclassmen rather than have them ask him. how unusual.

that day seemed normal, unlike his actions, everything went smoothly. everyone was training, the insults azuma threw at kawakami resounding on the field until he roared. each of seido’s member had their eyes fixed on the youth who had the courage of a lion, yet the brains of a bird. he’d stood up to azuma, his words leaving a mark upon miyuki: “you can’t play baseball by yourself!!”. a smile painted upon his features, his chest puffing a soft laugh. what an interesting kid! interesting enough for miyuki to want to catch for him when rei-chan announced that the stranger would pitch against azuma.

“wait a minute, i never asked to have a match with some jerk like him!” was the stranger’s protest.

“sawamura, this is a baseball field.” rei retorted, and her words had miyuki doubletake. sawamura?

his eyes widened, and before he could form a sentence he was gawking at sawamura. it clicked. everything made sense. that was sawamura, pitcher and former captain of his team back in nagano, his SOUL MATE.

laughter bubbled in his chest, and he would’ve almost cried if it weren’t for the location. just imagine; seido’s promising catcher starts randomly crying in the middle of the baseball field, unknown to the rest that he had finally met his other half. ah, he was happy. what is this? how can someone be so overwhelmed with joy upon simply meeting their soul mate. ridiculous! yet there he was, all smiles and chuckles as he offered to catch for the pitcher.

“can i catch his pitch?” a question directed at the assistant coach, an offer he knew she wouldn’t turn down.

“who’s he?” came sawamura’s inquire, and little did he know that the pitcher was about to live the shock of his life.

“miyuki kazuya, a catcher.” her reply direct, yet miyuki could only watch in pure bliss the way sawamura’s face turned from confusion to shock, from shock to delight, from delight to anger.

sawamura eijun was angry at miyuki kazuya.

so this is how we meet, huh? miyuki had ran up to the three, his smile not once wavering, yet his heart thudding so loud in his ears. he was so close to sawamura that his hands tingled, his fingers twitching, itching to touch him. tonight, again.

their game had ended faster than he’d wanted, sawamura leaving without sparing him another word, a second glance. for what reason the youth was angry at him, he had a hunch, but now that they’ve met miyuki was certain and could no longer brush aside his heart’s urges; sawamura eijun was completing him, both on and off the field.

that night he grabbed the closest sharpie, and without wasting another second he wrote: “i know you’re angry at me, but i’m really—-” really what? happy? miyuki kazuya is happy? though the damage was done, the wording would need to change. “—glad i met you.” there! sounds better.

the answer he received was almost instant, as if sawamura was expecting a message from the latter. “OF COURSE I’M ANGRY!!!!!!! DO YOU REALISE HOW LONG IT’S BEEN?? I’VE BEEN WAITING ALL THIS TIME, BAKA MIYUKI!!!!” all caps, huh? kazuya laughed like he hadn’t done in a long while, his eyes softening as he ran a digit over the other’s writing. he couldn’t enjoy the moment though, as eijun had quickly erased his words, leaving miyuki wishing the moment would’ve lasted longer. but he couldn’t mourn, not even for a second, as sawamura’s writing showed up on his arm again. “don’t you DARE stop writing you hear?! or i’ll get angry again!!!” “yes, yes ♥” miyuki had quickly added underneath sawamura’s words, and after meeting him in person today he could’ve guessed that eijun was spluttering back in nagano.

“so are you coming to seido?” miyuki couldn’t help his curiosity; he wanted to know: would he get to spend the remaining of his high school days with his soul mate or would he have to try his best to maintain this long distance relationship? he needed to know, and sawamura was taking his sweet time coming up with a reply. once he wrote back though, miyuki couldn’t help but feel irked. “i don’t know” sawamura had scribbled on his forearm, quickly followed by a “i need some more time to think…”.

“whatever you’ll decide, i’ll be here to catch for you if you come to seido.” miyuki’s answer was instant, the smile that played upon his visage not once disappearing. he missed this. he missed talking to the youth, spending his time writing and drawing on his body, having his soul mate’s writing tattooed on his, even if only for a few moments. happiness washed over him like it hadn’t in a long while, and finally, after so many years, he felt at ease.

that night he slept like a child, worries forgotten, grief dug in the depth of his heart. the days that came seemed brighter, warmer even (though he’d blame the season for it, somewhere in the back of his mind he knew there was more to that), he’d smile more often. there’d be days when he’d wake up with a mustache drawn above his upper lip. his team-mates would laugh at him, some even tried erasing it for him, but it slowly dawned upon them all: that was miyuki’s soul mate. out of all, kuramochi was the most taken aback as he realised it first; miyuki kazuya is actually having fun with the one who was his soul mate.

miyuki used to live in a world enveloped in silence until sawamura eijun had appeared in front of him, until he re-entered miyuki’s life. now his life was filled with laughter and splatters of colour upon the empty canvas that his skin was, and the distance that separated them no longer mattered. even if sawamura decided to stay in nagano, they’d work a way to meet again.

sawamura, however, was 10 steps ahead of miyuki. he had the upper hand as he got to decide his future. his decision was a surprise to miyuki, a pleasant one at least. the moment they’d met again on the field when they were both running late to practice was the day miyuki kazuya knew; he knew he’d get to spend the rest of his days alongside his other half.

#answered #anonymous #miyusawa #misawa #diamond no ace #god this got so long but ??? i hope u like it fjdgbdfjhg #i rlly want to continue this tbh aaaaa lies down . . . .

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protierras · 5 years

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Snap a certain degree andersen eight run dominate T. J. Carrie Womens Jersey

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papersandkeyboards · 7 years

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4/25 to 5/1/16: Take Me to Church and Pitch Me the Ball

31st WEEK, APR 25-MAY 1, 2016

This goes to the list of things I thought I would never do: doing one of my five daily prayers in a church building.

Iya. Sabtu kemaren gue shalat Zuhur di bangunan gereja.

Before someone that might be more religious than me start to protest, let me give you reasons: one, it wasn’t exactly in the church (I almost did, though), it was a YMCA building that was intact with the church, and two, really, there was no other place I could do prayers and I personally don’t think it’ll matter much if I do my prayers in a building smothered with other belief than mine as long as I just mind my own business.

But ok. Here’s how I could end up doing that.

On Saturday, April 30, there was a pre-departure orientation for students from the Seattle area that are going abroad with AFS. They will go after we all (me and my chapter friends) finish our year. Nancy told me about this few days before and asked me to help out if I want to. I ended up inviting Kira along, as Nancy suggested. The event was in Fauntleroy Community Church/YMCA in West Seattle.

When I got there, I found out that there Antonio was there as well, and then there were two exchange students from South Sound region, Joost from Germany and Isabella from Brazil (I’ve met them before—I met Joost in the Brightwater Treatment Plant field trip and Isabella from Mercer Island High School International Festival).

We had a panel discussion, where the current exchange students (me, Kira, Antonio, Joost, Isabella), three returnees (including Kellianne, the staff), and one host parent (that is also having her daughter in an exchange) answered questions from Nancy and the parents of the candidates.

It felt good to be on the other side of an orientation (haha). Eight months ago we were the one asking questions and freaking out about life a year ahead, now we told these students our experience and giving advice.

Bah. Merasa tua jadinya.

The only thing that isn’t very fun about the day was that it made me think about leaving.

Anjir.

Udah ah. Itu masih bahan pikiran nanti-nanti.

Speaking about life in the U.S., this Friday wasn’t a good Friday.

One, I found out that my DSLR camera needs reparation (that means costing money). After consulting with my dad, he suggested that I should wait and fix it in Jakarta instead. It’s not that I can’t use my camera in the mean time, anyway. I would just have to live with it for another couple of months, and it isn’t gonna be so hard, really.

Two, softball games. We were up against Cleveland High School, and, quoting Coach Tomchick, it was one of the most frustrating games we’ve ever had.

Losing, for us, wasn’t a new thing. We were well aware of where we are in the cluster of high school softball teams in Seattle. But what made Friday’s game frustrating was (again, quoting Coach) that we could’ve had it.

And something happened during the game.

Our team was fielding. I was second baseman. The opposite team had two outs. And there was a runner on first base. She walked off the base casually before the pitcher pitched. That means she’s out, and that gave three outs.

At first I thought she was just stupid (whoops). But at the end of the game, Dawanda and Coach Tomchick told me that they did it out of pity. As in, they did it on purpose to give us a chance to bat and get more scores. Dawanda was ranting all about it in the dugout.

It was obvious, apparently. I knew it was too stupid of a move to make. Now I felt stupid for being happy/surprised when that happened.

We know we didn’t do as well as we thought. We know we were behind so many points, even we didn’t even bother to know what the points were. But it was offending to do such move. Okay.

But I got to admit that we weren’t on the top of our game that day. I kept making mistakes, so as some other people, and some part of it were just plain shit out of luck, like slipping balls and whatnot.

But the following week is gonna be the last week of games. We wouldn’t guarantee we will win, but we know we will do our best and have fun with it. Softball team is fun without the wins anyway, let alone if we win. Hehe.

On Thursday, which was the preceding day, we had senior meeting—Jurdy, the school counselor, ranted on how the seniors got to get their stuff together in order to graduate, then a mini game about motivation in which some seniors were asked to punch a punching bag (the moral lesson was to ‘keep fighting in life’), then a little time to talk about prom and graduation.

On the preceding days, like Monday, we were supposed to have a game with Roosevelt, so we took the school bus up north to Woodland Park, where the game was supposed to be held. But the field condition was pretty bad the game was cancelled. Oh well. We practiced there for a while. We had fun on the bus anyway. And it’s kind of nice to have practice outside of the school once or twice.

So that was school.

Let’s go back to Saturday. Kira and I were planning to leave at 3pm from the orientation to hang out downtown (more like ‘me accompanying Kira to look for birthday present for her mother and tagging along with her to a German store’). Before we left, I asked Nancy if there was an empty room I could use to do prayer. Nancy almost led me to the church itself, but it was locked, so we found another room upstairs, which was a sort of small library filled with reference books, bibles, and children’s books. Ga papa lah.

(tapi bayangin aja deh kalau aku beneran shalat di gerejanya, with the benches and aisle and all. pengalaman banget tuh. Ke gereja pertama kali aja pas di sini, di Amerika.)

So yeah. Kira and I left for downtown, walked to Target to buy a birthday present for her mother back in Germany (plus fooling around), then to Pike Place Market where the German food store is (the lady in the store gave Kira two German wieners—“for you and your friend,” the lady said—but that just means Kira got to have two free wieners because I couldn’t eat it).

Then we took the light rail and I got off the Stadium Station, because I was about to do something big in my to-do list.

Watch a Mariners’ game!

Seattle Mariners is a softball team from Seattle. At first, I put ‘watching Seahawks football game’ on my list, but later I found out it cost my kidney to buy the tickets, plus, I am not a fan of football and I don’t know the rules, so I dropped it.

Then, later in the year, I got into the softball team, and the baseball season has begun, so I put another thing on my list: to watch a Mariners’ game. Luckily the tickets were so easy to get (and it wasn’t that costly), so Karen and Eric bought us three a ticket for a game this Saturday.

It was fun. Especially when you know the rules so you can quite follow what’s going on. It was againt Kansas City Royals—and Mariners won, of course (hehe).

Anyway, look at this photobombing kid. He looks like he owns life.

I was so happy I can finally cross another thing off my list.

Going to a Mariners’ game: ✔

But sure, my list isn’t that short. There’s probably still a dozen more things to go.

#langkahanakbangsa #softball #afseffect

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littlej097 · 5 years

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For Those in My Heart - Chapter 4 “Little League”

Prompt: Roland decides to give Little League a try and Robin decides to be his coach.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Ever since things had calmed down in Storybrooke, Regina and Robin had been really trying to maintain a normal life. However, for Roland, living in a mansion and going to a normal school was anything but ordinary. He had been the only child among the merry men and any education that he had gotten, he had learned from them. That being said, it had been a little challenging for Roland to make friends his own age.

“I’m worried about him,” Regina said to Robin. “He needs to meet some children his own age.”

“You’re right love,” Robin replied. “But I don’t know how to help him do that.” “Maybe he should get involved with something. A sport or some kind of activity.” Regina suggested.

“I think that could be a good idea.” Robin agreed. The next night at dinner, they brought it up to Roland and were surprised when he instantly told them that they wanted to play baseball.

“A bunch of kids play it at recess but I don’t know how to play,” Roland told them.

“Well, I think that can be arranged,” Regina replied. “The little league season is just starting. I think they’re still letting kids sign up. Papa can take you tomorrow.”

“Really? Will you Papa?” The little boy exclaimed with excitement.

“Of course my boy,” Robin replied with a smile. The next day while at the office, Regina got a pair of unexpected visitors. Roland ran into the office a huge smile on his face, dressed in his new baseball uniform. The uniform was complete with a set of cleats, bright white baseball pants and a royal blue jersey that read Granny’s on the back.

“I didn’t know that Granny was sponsoring a team this year,” Regina replied with a laugh.

“Do you like my uniform Mama?” Roland asked. Regina nodded with a smile. “Daddy even got me a glove!”

“Well, that’s good,” Regina told him. “I don’t know much about baseball but a glove seems very important to the sport.”

“Wait! The best part isn’t here yet.” Roland told her.

“And what would that be?” Regina asked. As if on cue, Robin walked into her office dressed in his own royal blue shirt that said coach on the back of it. “You’re coaching the team?”

“Yes, I am!” Robin replied proudly.

“Robin...honey... you don’t know anything about baseball,” Regina said hesitantly.

“Well, how hard can it be to learn,” Robin replied. “We stopped at the library and Belle helped me find this.” he added showing her a book entitled “Baseball for Dummies.” Regina couldn’t help but laugh. “I figured I could use a hobby as well.”

“Alright love,” Regina replied. “When’s the first game?”

“It’s next Sunday!” Roland replied excitedly. From that day on, Robin and Roland spent much of the next week at practice with the other boys preparing for their first game. When Sunday finally came, Regina felt nervous for both Roland and Robin. She packed the car with a large blanket and baby necessities for Addy. Then, Regina, Henry, and Addy piled into the car to get to the game. Roland and Robin had headed out earlier to get in some practice before the game. When they got there, Emma and Hook and the rest of the Charmings were waiting for them.

“You guys came!” Regina said with a laugh.

“We wouldn’t miss Roland’s first game.” Snow replied with a smile as she repositioned Neal on her hip.

“I certainly wasn’t going to miss Robin’s coaching debut.” Hook replied smugly.

“And what do you know about baseball, pirate?” Regina quipped.

“Not much, but I know what my strengths are.” Hook replied. “I also know that this is going to be hilarious.” Regina simply rolled her eyes. With Henry’s help, she laid out the blanket and took a seat next to Snow. They set the babies in front of them who were content just to sit and play with their toys.

“I can’t believe how big Addy is getting.” Snow remarked.

“I know. She’s was four months on Friday.” Regina told her. “Time sure does go fast,” she added looking down at the little girl before her. She was just starting to get some patches of dirty blonde hair and her eyes were crystal blue liked her fathers. She had even started to coo and smile when they interacted with her.

Within a few minutes, the game began. Robin ran out with Roland and about eight other six-year-olds. Everyone couldn’t help but laugh as Robin tried to corral all the kids and get them where they were supposed to be. As soon as the game began, it was abundantly clear that none of the kids, nor Robin truly knew what was going on. The first little boy up to bat hit the ball and everyone cheered. However, the little boy didn’t really understand which base he was supposed to go to and ended up running to third base instead of first. Needless to say, that was the team's first out of the inning. The second kid up to base hit the baseball off the team but wasn’t very keen on running. Robin tried to coax him into running to first base, but nothing was working. He finally decided to lift the little boy up by his armpits and run to first base with him instead. Regina hid her face in her hands.

“We’re gonna have to leave Storybrooke. There’s no coming back from this,” she said. “What do you think of Boston, Addy? Should we live there after Papa’s done making a fool of himself?” The little girl smiled and reached for her mother's face. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

After a few more kids got to bat, it was finally Roland’s turn. “Go, Roland!” Everyone cheered from the sideline. He looked so little in his uniform and batting helmet as he held the gigantic bat. His first swing went all the way through but missed the ball.

“That’s okay buddy! Keep your eye on the ball!” Regina yelled from the sideline. Roland looked confused for a moment and seemed to be thinking about what his mother was saying. He set the bat down and leaned in close until his eye was literally on the little white ball. No one could contain their laughter then. It was just too cute. Hook was practically doubled over laughing.

“Who needs major league baseball when little league is so much funnier,” Henry replied. They endured five more innings of this and each inning got a little better because the kids understood a little more. In the final inning, the score was 2 to 1 (which was a miracle considering they even got that many runs). Roland’s team was in the field and they had two outs.

“Alright boys, let’s finish the game here. One more out and we win!” Robin yelled from the dugout.

“Next batter!” The umpire called. The largest kid from the other team came up to bat. He had been responsible for the one run for the other team. He could tie up the game right there.

“This doesn’t look good,” Henry said to his mom. As the kid came up to bat, the pitcher threw the first ball and it happened to be a strike. Everyone cheered. Then the second ball crossed the plate...another strike.

“Wow, they may actually do it. They may win!” Regina exclaimed. However, on the third pitch, they heard the sound of the ball hitting the wooden bat. It went flying out into the outfield, right above where Roland was standing. “Oh god please let him catch it.” The little boy looked panicked. He began to run backward in an attempt to try and catch the ball. However, he ran into a problem His shoelace was untied. Roland tripped and fell backward onto the ground and the entire crowd gasped. Suddenly the ball cam plummeting down to the ground and just happened to land in the web of Roland’s glove. All the boys and Roland began to cheer and ran out to Roland in the outfield. He had done it! Roland had won the game for his team!

“Oh my god! He did it! He actually caught it!” Regina exclaimed as she stood up with Addy and cheered. Henry and the rest of the Charmings stood up as well and cheered for the team.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Hook replied. “That Robin is a lucky man,” he added with a laugh. After all the kids packed up their stuff, Roland came running over to Regina.

“Did you see it, Mama? Did you? I caught the ball and won the game.” he exclaimed.

“Of course I did!” Regina replied as she pulled him into her arms. “I am so proud of you!” she added, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Robin walked over next.

“Great game, coach,” David said as he extended his hand for a handshake with Robin.

“It wasn’t the smoothest of games, but we got there,” Robin replied with a laugh.

“I think now it’s time to celebrate.” Snow said.

“Can we go get ice cream? Please!” Roland begged his parents. Normally, Regina and Robin wouldn’t give in so easily considering that Roland asked for ice cream practically every day. However, today was a special day so they both replied with sure which set the little boy into cheers of excitement. Together the two families made their way to Granny’s to get some celebratory ice cream.

“So is being a Coach all that you thought it would be?” Regina asked Robin.

“I have to say. It is much more difficult to corral nine six-year-olds than I thought it would be.” he amended.

“And just think, you still have a full season left to go.”

“God help me.” Robin murmured. He knew that both he and the kids had a lot of learning to do but it would sure be quite the experience.

#once upon a time #outlawqueen #regina mills #robin hood #klainelover1997 #littlej097 #forthoseinmyheart

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tophatal · 6 years

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Let My People Go ….

Well the NFL preseason is almost upon us and the first game of the preseason schedule will be the Hall of Game featuring the Chicago Bears facing the Baltimore Ravens on Thursday 2nd August, 2018. Meanwhile off the field , the big news’ story within the league has been the comments from Stephen Jones and his father Jerry Jones , front office executives for the Dallas Cowboys . Jones Sr has let it be known that any player on the team’s roster refusing the stand during the playing of the National Anthem could face dismissal from the Cowboys as well as the mandatory fines likely to be levied by the NFL hierarchy.

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Slide show.

As the NFL continues to try and justify their latest policy change , it is becoming increasing clear the owners have taken a stance with the exception of New York Jets’ owner Woody Johnson who has stated categorically , he is prepared to stand by any player on the team who wishes to oppose the ruling now in place by the league. NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell , has somehow engulfed the league in a public relations’ nightmare which it cannot win . Former CEO and founder of pizza chain restaurant Papa John’s , John Schnatter has resigned from the company after his racist comments were made public. Schnatter at the time, was speaking with a public relations’ firm seeking their input into ways of increasing sales , when he chose to use certain racially derogatory terms to describe African-Americans and Hispanics. Had he not resigned , then it was almost certain that his Board of Directors would have sought his ouster. Papa John’s still remains an NFL partner , but has seen it’s association with several NBA franchises abruptly come to an end.

From my own standpoint , this upcoming season within the NFL will not be one where I will be taking a keen interest in the regular season , let alone what might take place during the postseason. This league has lost all credibility , while the NFLPA (players union) remains a body unwilling to support when of their own when needed the most.

The NBA off-season has proven to be an interesting one with the departure of LeBron James , as he left the Cleveland Cavaliers to join the Los Angeles Lakers . James fulfilled the wish of his hometown franchise by bringing them their first professional franchise title in over five decades. However, the team that LeBron James now leaves behind will not be one that will be considered among the favorites within the Eastern Conference for the upcoming regular season. James’ departure might be seen as a big coup for the Lakers, but not less than forty-eight hours after the announcement was made , reigning NBA champions the Golden State Warriors were able to swoop in and sign DeMarcus Cousins to a one-year $5.3 million deal , veteran’s minimum . For those now crying foul , please stop with the idiocy and the complaints of the league lacking parity and competitiveness. The money now involved in the NBA, now creates a chasm between the top teams and in actuality to my mind , this has more to do with the culture now sought by front office executives and NBA hierarchy led by Commissioner Adam Silver . His predecessor , David Stern simply did not do enough by way of a league salary cap or seeking to keep those contracts in check.

This season , the number of players in the NBA earning more than $25 million a year will be at an all-time high , with the Russell Westbrook being the highest-paid player in the league by way of his contract. The long held belief that Gregg Popovich is a master tactician is not lost on many , but somehow in spite of his coaching prowess , this five-time championship winning coach was unable to persuade Kawhi Leonard to remain with the San Antonio Spurs . Instead the two-time NBA Defensive Player of the Year has found himself a new home, having been traded to the Toronto Raptors in exchange for DeMar DeRozan , one of the most productive players in the NBA over this past season.It will be interesting to see what the veteran forward can offer the Spurs as they embark on another season .

MLB enters its second-half of the season after an interesting first-half and an All Star Game Weekend of festivities filled with a great deal of excitement . The non-waiver trade deadline is now in focus and there are likely to be several players on the move by 4:00 pm today, the deadline for all trades . The Baltimore Orioles now appear to be in a rebuilding process and it would seem that after their trade of Manny Machado , there is the likelihood that Adam Jones could be the next player on the move. Not racked by injuries but this is a team which seems to be lacking in confidence and where manager Buck Showalter now has to look to the future. Chris Davis is no longer the player who hit 50 home runs in a season , while powering their offense. If this season is anything to go by the Orioles have been a non-starter.

Over their last ten games the Baltimore Orioles have posted a moribund 5-5 record . They’re out of the wildcard contention and their divisional record is abysmal . The Orioles are in action today where they face the New York Yankee s on the road , with Yefry Ramirez of the visiting team facing Masahiro Tanaka of the Yankees , as part of their regular season schedule.

If you can’t beat them, then you just give up , continue to make excuses for your incompetence. There’s no other way to describe the continued woes of the New York Mets . Often seen as the ugly sister to their crosstown rivals the New York Yankees. The Mets continue to be abysmal for a variety of reasons , while their long-suffering and idiotic fans make excuses for the ball-club’s malaise. This Micky Callaway managed team has a look of defeat about them which has become so contagious and bewildering. The best performing player for the Mets this season has been Jacob deGrom , around whom there are now constant trade rumors concerning the starting pitcher. It is likely that the Mets’ front office will listen to offers for deGrom and quite possibly his teammate Noah Syndergaard . With two months left on the schedule , it seems now might be the time to take the chance on looking to the future by calling up several of their most promising players within their farm system. Micky Callaway will prepare the Mets for their next several games , starting off with Tuesday’s contest against the Washington Nationals at Nationals Ballpark in Washington, DC.

Once again the Tampa Bay Rays find themselves in a position where at this point of the season they are sellers rather than buyers. News now circulating , based on conditions of anonymity , the Rays will be trading their starting pitcher Chris Archer to the Pittsburgh Pirates . Archer was one of the few desirable starting pitchers sought at the deadline and it is believed that the Rays will obtain Austin Meadows and Tyler Glasnow in return for the AL ace . Archers’s last start for the Rays was in game against the Baltimore Orioles, a 15-5 loss , where he pitched six innings in the contest . . Chris Archer’s contract becomes an amenable one for the Pirates to have , with just two years remaining on his existing deal. Rays’ manager Kevin Cash and senior members within the front office will have a hard time trying to convince the fans that this proposed deal will be in the best interests of the ball-club.

The Tampa Bay Rays have nothing to play for but their pride as their season winds down. Next up for the Rays will be a three-game set against the Los Angeles Angels beginning on Tuesday .

There’s no doubt in my mind that Dave Roberts of the Los Angeles Dodgers remains under the gun and with the Dodgers failing to win the World Series in 2017 , with their first appearance in the Fall Classic, with their falling to the Houston Astros. I have to ask myself how much more can Mark Walter and Magic Johnson take as the primary owners of this ball-club ? Since acquiring the ball-club from Frank McCourt via bankruptcy proceedings the Dodgers have committed over $1.6 billion in salaries on a litany of players. This year the Dodgers possess one of the highest payrolls in all of baseball ,with their starting pitcher Clayton Kershaw leading the way with a whopping $33 million price-tag for his services in 2018. While the Los Angeles Dodgers find themselves with a struggle within the NL West , the question remains what will this team have to do in order to bring the franchise their first World Series’ title in almost three decades?

Dave Roberts and the Los Angeles Dodgers will be in action on Wednesday afternoon when the team faces the Milwaukee Brewers at home in a clash between NL counterparts. The front office of the Dodgers made some moves which they deem to be beneficial, as they look to wind down their regular season schedule. While Idon’t believe that Mark Walter and Magic Johnson will fire Dave Roberts should the team fail to make the postseason , I do believe there will be rumblings among the fan-base for something to be done.

What do you believe are the main stories now breaking within the world of sports and do you feel that the comments made by both Jerry Jones and Dak Prescott have any basis in merit ?

Tophatal ………….

NFL news

NFL Hall of Fame Game

NFL week on preseason

NFL standings (division preseason)

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NBA news

NBA transactions

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MLB news

MLB standings (divisional) and wildcard standings

MLB schedule three days at a glance (31st July to 2nd August )

MLB transactions

Byron Scott, the now fired former coach of the Hornets. GM , Jeff Bower who has now assumeed the position of head coach on an interim basis. And assistant coach , Tim Floyd. It’s safe to assume that the reins may well be handed over to Floyd at some time in the future given the fact Bower has no experience as a coach of any kind with regard to the NBA . picture apears courtesy of nbae/ getty images / Richard Tyson …………..

Rays’ third baseman , Evan Longoria at the plate for team. photo appears courtesy of Getty Images/ Vic Hallam

Carl Crawford’s three-run home run in the sixth inning highlighted Tampa Bay’s three-game sweep of the Angels. The Rays are five games over .500 for the first time in team history. photo appears courtesy of the Associated Press/ Mike Carlson ………….

Gatots’ player Tim Tebow (15) and his coach Urban Meyer discuss their options during a game. photo appears courtesy of Getty Images/ Chris Dickson ……………….

Major League Baseball commissioner Bud Selig’s steroids proposal, made to the union last month, calls for a 50-game ban for first offenders, a 100-game penalty for second offenders and a lifetime ban for a third positive test. photo appears courtesy of Associated Press / Adam Roundtree …….

Carolina Panthers’ Julius Peppers saluting fans as he walks off the field after the Panthers’ 23-10 win over the New Orleans Saints in an NFL football game in Charlotte, N.C. The Panthers have decided the price is too steep to keep their all-time sacks leader. It means five-time Pro Bowl defensive end Julius Peppers is about to become one of the top prizes in free agency. Agent Carl Carey says the Panthers have told him they won’t place the restrictive franchise tag on Peppers for a second consecutive year at a cost of more than $20 million. The move Tuesday, Feb. 23, 2010, comes two days before the tag deadline. photo appears courtesy of Associated Press/ Rick Havner ……

Mike Dunleavy (#17) of the Indiana Pacers goes up for the lay up against Brendan Haywood (#33) of the Dallas Mavericks during a game at the American Airlines Center on February 22, 2010 in Dallas, Texas. photo appears courtesy of NBAE/ Getty Images/ Glenn James ……………….

University of Michigan President Mary Sue Coleman, left, and head football coach Rich Rodriguez, right, are shown at a news conference in Ann Arbor, Mich., Tuesday, Feb. 23, 2010. The NCAA has found that Michigan’s storied football program was out of compliance with practice time rules under coach Rodriguez. Incoming athletic director David Brandon disclosed the finding Tuesday. He says there were no surprises in the NCAA findings. He also says Rodriguez remains the coach. Michigan has 90 days to respond and will appear at an NCAA hearing on infractions in August. photo appears courtesy of Associated Press/ Paul Sancya ……

Los Angeles -January 13th 2010. New head coach of the USC Trojans Lane Kiffin shakes a hand as he makes his way to his press conference at Heritage Hall in Los Angeles, California. photo appears courtesy of Getty Images/ Harry How ……………..

Duke’s Jon Scheyer collides with Virginia Tech’s Malcolm Delaney, left, during the first half. Scheyer scored 25 points and collected 10 rebounds in the win. The Blue Devils defeated Virginia Tech (Hokies) 67-55 in the game . photo appears courtesy of Associated Press / Sara Davis ……………..

Chicago Cubs owner Tom Ricketts speaks to the media Tuesday, Feb. 23, 2010 at the Chicago Cubs spring training facility in Mesa, Ariz. photo appears Assoc. Press/ Matt York ….

Chicago Cubs manager Lou Piniella, right, along with coaches Matt Sinatro, middle, and Lester Strode watch pitchers warm up during spring training baseball camp practice Saturday, Feb. 20, 2010, in Mesa, Ariz. photo appears courtesy of Assoc. Press/ Ross D. Franklin ………..

Minnesota Twins pitcher Joe Mauer swings in the batting cage at baseball spring training in Fort Myers, Fla., Thursday, Feb. 25, 2010. photo appears courtesy of Assoc Press/ Nati Harnik …….

Florida Marlins owner Jeffrey Loria, left, watches batting practice with Marlins manager Fredi Gonzalez during spring training baseball Wednesday, Feb. 24, 2010, in Jupiter, Fla. With the smallest payroll in the majors last year, the Marlins won 87 games and finished six games behind eventual league champion Philadelphia in the NL East. Visiting spring training to watch the first full-squad workout, Loria said the 2009 Marlins underachieved. photo appears courtesy of Assoc Press/Jeff Roberson ……..

Israeli model Bar Refaeli seen here doing a Sports Illustrated Swimsuit edition phot-shoot.

Ray Allen (#20) of the Boston Celtics looks for a play against LeBron James (#23) of the Cleveland Cavaliers on February 25, 2010 at the TD Garden in Boston, Massachusetts. photo appears courtesy of NBAE/ Getty Images/ Brian Babbineau …..

Floyd Mayweather, left, and current WBA welterweight super champion Shane Mosley exchange words during a news conference in New York, Tuesday, March 2, 2010. The press conference was to promote their May 1, 2010 fight in Las Vegas, Nevada. photo appears courtesy of Assoc Press/ Seth Wenig ……..

Floyd Mayweather, left, and current WBA welterweight world champion Shane Mosley pose for a picture during a news conference in New York, Tuesday, March 2, 2010. The news conference was to promote their May 1, 2010 fight in Las Vegas, Nevada. photo appears courtesy of Assoc Press /Seth Wenig

Scott Boras, chided for bonus demands for amateur clients, says the Major League Baseball draft needs restructuring. “In this system, everybody thinks this is about money. No, this is about saving money. It allows for less mistakes,” he says. photo appears courtesy of USA Today Jason M. Millstein ………………..

Commissioner of Major League Baseball Bud Selig and actress Sarah-Jessica Parker take part in an on field presentation during the 79th MLB All-Star Game at Yankee Stadium on July 15, 2008 in the Bronx borough of New York City. photo appears courtesy of Getty Images North America / Jim McIsaac ……………

Stacey Dash , actress , designer and entrepreneur .

Jennifer Aniston shows us that she’s more than willing to be your ‘friend’ ?

Model & Playboby playmate Naureen Zaim . Who wouldn’t mind teaching her a lesson or two on human anatomy ?

Cuban American actress & model Natalie Martinez

Martinez again looking good as only she possibly can !

Oh mon ami ! she possibly can ! Je t’aime !</strong

Who wouldn’t want to play with Natalie Martinez ?

Well hello there !

Model & actress Natalie Martinez ……….

Actress & model Natalie Martinez …….. Who wouldn’t want to get ahold of her rims ? I know I would !

New York Yankees’ Alex Rodriguez watches his fly-out in the first inning of a spring training baseball game against the Philadelphia Phillies, Friday, March 26, 2010, in Tampa, Fla. photo appears courtesy of Assoc Press / Mike Carlson ….

Sarasoata , Fl ,. Infielder Adrian Beltre (29) of the Boston Red Sox throws over to first for an out against the Baltimore Orioles during a Grapefruit League Spring Training Game at Ed Smith Stadium on March 27, 2010 in Sarasota, Florida. photo appears courtesy of Getty Images/ J Meric ……….

St. Louis , Bobby Maze (3) of the Tennessee Volunteers looks to shoot the ball against Mike Kebler (20) and Draymond Green (23) both of the Michigan State Spartans during the midwest regional final of the 2010 NCAA men’s basketball tournament at the Edward Jones Dome on March 28, 2010 in St. Louis, Missouri. Michigan State beat Tennessee 70-69. photo appears courtesy of Getty Images/ Dilip Vishwanat …

The Duke Blue Devils hold up the trophy after a 78-71 win over the Baylor Bears in the south regional final of the NCAA men’s basketball tournament at Reliant Stadium in Houston on Sunday. photo appears courtesy of Getty Images/ Ronald Martinez …

Butler’s Nick Rodgers hold up the West Regional trophy as the team returned home to Indianapolis amid a throng of fans after earning a spot in the Final Four with a victory over Kansas State Saturday. photo appears courtesy of Associated Press/ A J Mast ………..

West Virginia’s Da’Sean Butler and Joe Mazzulla hug after the game. Butler scored 18 points and Mazulla pitched in a career-high 17 to help West Virginia hold off the Wildcats. The Mountaineers would defeat the Kentucky Wildcats 73-66 to make their way the Final Four of the NCAA Tournament. photo appears courtesy of Getty Images/ Jim McIsaac ……….

Russian actress & model Anya Monzikova . Who wouldn’t want some of Monzikova alongside some fresh Beluga caviar ?

2008 Heisman Trophy winner Sam Bradford. The player is widely expected to be taken number one overall in the upcoming NFL Draft. The team with the first pick are the NFC’s St Louis Rams . photo appears courtesy of Associated Press/ Chris Rogers ………..

Eagles’ quarterback Donovan McNabb. The player is said to want to remain with the Eagles but it’s becoming clear that he will be traded sooner rather than later. Eagles’ coach Andy Reid and team President Joe Banner are willing to listen to offers for the Pro Bowler. photo appears courtesy of US Presswire/ Jody Gomez ………….

Tebow (15) left is seen here alongside his former college coach Urban Meyer. The two proved to be very sucessfule as a team combining to win two national titles in four years. photo appears courtesy of boston.com/ articles …………

DeMaurice Smith Executive Director of the NFLPA. Smith who assumed the position after the death of his predecessor Gene Upshaw. He was elected to the position by the board members of the Players’ Association. Smith was a corporate litigation attorney for the DC law firm Patton Boggs. photo appears courtesy of Associated Press/ Phillip Mitchell

Carlos Boozer #5 of the Utah Jazz has his shot challenged by Kobe Bryant #24 of the Los Angeles Lakers at Staples Center on April 2, 2010 in Los Angeles, California. The Lakers would go on to defeat the Jazz 102-96 in the game . photo appears courtesy of NBAE/ Getty Images/ Andrew D Bernstein ………..

Donovan McNabb of the Philadelphia Eagles. The player was traded to the Washington Redskins a divisional rival in the NFC East. It adds to the flavor this upcoming season when the player meets his ‘former team’ . photo appears courtesy of Getty Images/ Hugh Malcolm ………………..

Baylor’s Brittney Griner and U Conn’s Maya Moore are seen here during the women’s Final Four game between the two teams. Geno Auriemma’s Huskies would go on to defeat the Baylor Lady Bears 70-50 in the game played at the Alamodome in San Antonio , Texas , Sunday April 4th 2010. photo appears courtesy of Getty Images/ Alicia Mack ………..

Cleveland Browns nose tackle Shaun Rogers and his lawyer Patrick D’Angelo, center, talk to reporters after leaving Cleveland Police Headquarters where Rogers was charged with one felony count of carrying a concealed weapon on Friday, April 2, 2010, in Cleveland, Ohio. Rogers was arrested at Cleveland Hopkins International airport on Thursday after he tried to take a loaded handgun through airport security. photo appears courtesy of Associated Press/ Jason Miller …..

Butler head coach Brad Stevens , left to right, Gordon Hayward and Ronald Nored smile during an interview session for the men’s NCAA Final Four college basketball championship Sunday, April 4, 2010, in Indianapolis. The Butler Bulldogs will face Mike Krzyzewski’s Duke Blue Devils in the championship game Monday night to be played at Lucas Oil Stadium , Indianapolis, Indiana. This in many ways will be very much a “home game” for the small and in-obtrusive college team from Indiana. The furor over over their improbable journey has resonated within the state and across the nation. photo appears courtesy of Associated Press/ Mark J Terrill ……………

Los Angeles, April 4th 2010. Manu Ginobil (20) of the San Antonio Spurs goes to the basket against Luke Walton (4) of the Los Angeles Lakers at Staples Center on Sunday. The San Antonio Spurs would go on to defeat the Los Angeles Lakers 100-81 in a game played at the Staples Center in Los Angeles, California. photo appears courtesy of NBAE/ Getty Images/ Noah Grahame …………….

Tiki Barber and his wife Gina Cha. Barber’s wife is six months pregnant with twins and is now in the midst of separating from the former NFL star. photo appears courtesy of Wire Image/ Duffie Marie Arnoult ………….

23 year old Traci Lynn Johnson an intern with NBC Universal and who works alongside Tiki Barber on the NBC morning show “The Today Show” . Barber and Johnson are romantically involved and the former NFL star has now separated from his wife of 11 years , Gina Cha. The couple have two children with twin now on the way in terms of Cha’s pregnancy. photo appears courtesy of Social Media SEO ……….

http://www.nfl.com/draft/2010/tracker#dt-tabs:dt-by-round/dt-by-round-input:1

Playboy Playmate Kayle Collins …………August 2008. Is there a need to proceed further concerning Kayle’s attributes ?

Jameer Nelson of the Orlando Magic goes for the layup in the Eastern Conference semi-final game played against the Atlanta Hawks. NBAE/ Getty Images/ Fernando Medina ………

Head Coach Jerry Sloan of the Utah Jazz fields questions from the media following his team’s loss to the Los Angeles Lakers in Game Two of the Western Conference Semifinals during the 2010 NBA Playoffs at Staples Center on May 4, 2010 in Los Angeles, California. NBAE Getty Images _ Andrew D Bernstein

Kobe Bryant (24) of the Los Angeles Lakers shoots against Deron Williams (8 )of the Utah Jazz in Game Two of the Western Conference Semifinals during the 2010 NBA Playoffs at Staples Center on May 4, 2010 in Los Angeles, California. NBAE Getty Images/ Noah D Bernstein

JOHANNESBURG, SOUTH AFRICA – JUNE 24: (L-R) Robert Vittek, Martin Skrtel and Radoslav Zabavnik of Slovakia celebrate victory after knocking Italy out of the competition during the 2010 FIFA World Cup South Africa Group F match between Slovakia and Italy at Ellis Park Stadium on June 24, 2010 in Johannesburg, South Africa. Photo by David Cannon/Getty Images ……

Johannesburg , South Africa – June 24 th 2010. Kamil Kopunek of Slovakia celebrates scoring his team’s third goal during the 2010 FIFA World Cup South Africa Group F match between Slovakia and Italy at Ellis Park Stadium on June 24, 2010 in Johannesburg, South Africa. Photo by Christof Koepsel/Getty Images ……

Fabio Cannavaro, captain of Italy, leaves the field dejected after being knocked out of the competition by Slovakia during the 2010 FIFA World Cup South Africa Group F match between Slovakia and Italy at Ellis Park Stadium on June 24, 2010 in Johannesburg, South Africa. Photo by Ezra Shaw/Getty Images ………

In this Sept. 18, 2010, photo, Florida Marlins’ Dan Uggla bats in a baseball game against the Chicago Cubs in Miami. Uggla has been traded from the Marlins to the Atlanta Braves for infielder Omar Infante and left-hander Mike Dunn. (AP Photo/Alan Diaz)

This is a 2008 file photo of Dan Uggla of the Florida Marlins baseball team. Uggla and the Atlanta Braves have reached a preliminary agreement on a $62 million, five-year contract, a person familiar with the negotiations told The Associated Press Wednesday Jan. 5, 2011 on condition of anonymity because the agreement was not yet final. (AP Photo/Rob Carr, File)

Baltimore Orioles starting pitcher Wei-Yin Chen (16), of Taiwan, comes into the dugout following the fourth inning of a baseball game against the Tampa Bay Rays, Saturday, Aug. 4, 2012, in St. Petersburg, Fla. (AP Photo/Brian Blanco)

ST. PETERSBURG – AUGUST 04: Designated hitter Jeff Keppinger #7 of the Tampa Bay Rays fouls off a pitch against the Baltimore Orioles during the game at Tropicana Field on August 4, 2012 in St. Petersburg, Florida. (Photo by J. Meric/Getty Images)

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Let My People Go …. Let My People Go .... Well the NFL preseason is almost upon us and the first game…

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