#I mean a few days ago a football player shouted a word to a coach that was about homosexuality but negatively loaded so sadly it still

[fuzzballsheltiepants]

Picture Kevin, three years old, running after his mother on awkward too-short legs in the park across the street from their home.  She laughs and grabs his little hands, swooping him off the ground in a great arc and he squeals and kicks his feet and shouts, “Again, mummy, again!”  He seems to glow in the sun, and Kayleigh had never thought that love could be like this, something so big and all-encompassing it feels like pain.

Picture Kevin, four years old, already learning to read; at first Kayleigh thought it was memorization of his favorite books, but one day at the library he finds a book with a frog and a toad and he sounds out words on his own.  Her heart swells with pride, and she kisses him on the top of his head and brushes back his silky hair and the frog and toad book finds its way home with them.

Picture Kevin, five years old, coming home from school bubbling with excitement day after day.  “I made a new friend, mummy.”  “Did you know that a long time ago Ireland was covered with ice, mummy?  And there were furry el-fants and huge deers and all kinda stuff that’s gone stinked now.”  “We drew today and I drew you and me and we were playing exy and the teacher said it was really really good.”  “I know maths now, mummy.  So much maths.”  After school he pulls out his legos and starts adding to the giant structure that has taken over one corner of their living room.  “It’s a castle, mummy.  It’s s’posed to be big.”

Picture Kevin, six years old, leading Kayleigh through the streets from shop to shop.  Gravely saying hello to the shop owners, who smothered their smiles and exchanged looks with Kayleigh over Kevin’s head.  He talked about fish to the grocer and dinosaurs to the bookstore cashier and space to the pharmacist and then ran into the green to kick a ball around with some kids from school.  “I like football okay, mum, but it’s not as much fun as exy.”  They put on music in the car and he sings along, not caring if he’s in tune, just singing for the pure joy of it.  Kayleigh wonders when she started becoming afraid of people who couldn’t even hear her; how many years had it been since she hadn’t cared what anybody thought?  She turns up the music and sings along too.

Picture Kevin, seven years old, in tiny exy gear, playing in little league.  He throws himself into it with abandon; sometimes the ball ends up in the little stands set up around the pint-sized court; sometimes he releases too late and it just bounces sadly off the ground; once it ricocheted off the low wall and whacked him in the shoulder.  He rubbed at it, glaring at the offending ball, but two seconds later he was laughing and leaping back into the fray.  He knocked a defender over, then stopped to extend a hand to help him up, and they hugged it out while someone else scored.  Afterwards the defender went out with them for pizza and they talked about space robots for a solid hour until Kayleigh was ready to scream.

Picture Kevin, eight years old.  Somber.  Lost.  Riko, promising to be his friend, and Kevin swallowing against the lump in his throat and nodding.  Riko, a dark-eyed island in the sea of grief.

Picture Kevin, nine years old.  Riko made good on his promise; he’s Kevin’s friend, his only friend; his brother, in all but genetics.  Kevin trains, and he doesn’t make mistaken throws anymore.  His footwork is sure.  Tetsuji praises him, and he basks in the words, and vows to train harder.

Picture Kevin, ten years old.  Riko drawing a 2 on his cheek; Kevin returning the favor, the 1 he draws precise, painstaking.  “We are the best,” Riko murmurs, “you and me,” and Kevin smiles.  One of the college students plays some music in the locker room, and Kevin remembers this song—the melody, the words.  The song plays through his head, and he longs to sing along, but Riko ignores it and Kevin closes his mouth on the lyrics.  He can hear something, in the Master’s locked office behind him; a muffled thud, and a groan, and somehow it’s louder than the music.

Picture Kevin, eleven years old.  They go on a trip to a natural history museum, something their tutor recommended.  Riko wanders around, haughty and bored; Kevin trails after.  The placards at the exhibits call to him; so many facts, laid out before him; a real mammoth skeleton towers above, and Kevin wants nothing more than to gape at the enormous curving tusks, but Riko tugs him away.  “This stuff doesn’t matter,” Riko says.  “We’re going to make Court.  We’re going to build Court our way, and it will be perfect.”  Kevin wonders if perfect is worth it, but then swallows down the traitorous thought.

Picture Kevin, twelve years old.  Already there are murmurs.  Of his greatness, of Riko’s.  Together, they are unstoppable.  The Master tells them they would be the best, and they do not wish to prove him wrong.  Always, Riko is with him; except once in a rare while when the Master takes him away.   At first, he would come back pale and shaken, and Kevin would hear him sniffling in his bed; but that stopped a long time ago.  Riko never talks about what they do.  “Moriyama stuff,” he said, stiff and proud.  They meet a new player; a possible recruit, for Riko’s Perfect Court.  Nathaniel’s tiny and fast and he laughs as he intercepts a ball from Kevin that he never should’ve even had a chance at, and for a few moments Kevin thinks he can remember what it was like when his mother would cheer him on.  Then the three of them are brought up, up to the tower where they meet Nathaniel’s father who looks just like him, and Kevin learns what “Moriyama stuff” really is.

Picture Kevin, thirteen years old.  Someone asks him in an interview, after his team wins the Little League championships again, about how it feels to follow in his mother’s footsteps.  He doesn’t even really know what he says; he’d been coached on this so many times it was all automatic.  But that night all he can think about is that he doesn’t remember his mother’s voice anymore.  He doesn’t cry; he can’t cry, there’s nowhere that he’s safe.  For he’s not really a Day anymore, except in name, and he knows too well what it means to be a Moriyama.

Picture Kevin, fourteen years old.  A new recruit arrives, and this one won’t run in the night like Nathaniel did.  He doesn’t speak a lot of English, and he’s taller than Kevin, and he doesn’t know why he’s there.  One day he checks Riko into the boards, and that’s when Jean first starts to learn his place.  Riko and Kevin—they had already learned.  That night Kevin holds Jean in his arms as tears leak from his eyes unbidden, and they don’t talk, lest they be found. 

Picture Kevin, fifteen years old.  They play against the college students now.  Faster.  Harder.  More.  At night, he soothes his aching muscles by delving over his books.  He was smart, the tutor told him; he could study anything he wanted.  But it was history that drew him, history that was endlessly fascinating.  Who knew that facts were such subjective things?  So many layers to unpeel, to distract.  

Picture Kevin, sixteen years old.  Pro teams already are banging down the doors for contracts for the pair of them, but they will have to wait.  The professional leagues have less status than the NCAAs; the Master had already decided that they would use the pros as summer training, nothing more.  He pored over college tape instead of worrying about it.  He knew all the coaches in NCAA exy, all their styles.  Except Coach Wymack, who was new.  Coach Wymack, a bleeding heart with a hopeless future at a mid-sized university.  Oh, the university would humor him, for hadn’t Kevin’s mother taught him?  But they would lose patience, once they realized he could not win.  Kevin would pity him, but pity was for the weak.  He thought he remembered reaching a hand out to a fallen player, but he must have made that up.  He would never be afforded the luxury of kindness.

Picture Kevin, seventeen years old.  A letter, creased and yellowed in his hand.  Jean, wide-eyed beside him as he studied the writing in a strong and graceful hand.  “Will you tell him?” Jean asks, little more than a whisper lest the Master come in and see what Kevin found, hidden in a history book that had no doubt remained unopened for a decade.  Kevin refolded it, slowly, carefully.  “There’s nothing to tell.”  And if Jean noticed him tucking the letter into his jacket pocket, he didn’t say a thing.  That night, he charmed one of the college students to pass over a bottle of vodka, and he relished the burn down his throat, the way it made him forget.

Picture Kevin, eighteen years old.  Newly annointed to Court, Riko by his side.  He raises his chin as the cameras click all around him, the smile on his lips foreign and familiar.  He knows his press smile, his press laugh, his press voice.  He doesn’t remember what his real one is anymore.  He looks at Riko, laughing easily next to him, and he thinks there was a time without that glint in his brother’s eyes, without that cruel note to his voice, but then he thinks maybe he was fooling himself all along.  

Picture Kevin, nineteen years old.  Watching Riko, sprinting up the court, waiting for the pass.  Kevin has a clear shot; a guaranteed goal; but he pivots and throws to Riko instead.  Two seconds later the goal lights up red, and Riko is celebrating.  Kevin swallows down the bile in his throat and joins in the cheer.  Thea looks at him from across the court and shakes her head, but she never says a thing.  She’s never felt the sharp edge of Riko’s cruelty, but rumors travel fast underground.  She may not know, but she has held onto Kevin in the dark and helped him find relief from the pain.

Picture Kevin, twenty years old.  His legs are bruised in stripes from the Master’s cane, from Riko’s racquet; he’s slumped on the hotel room floor.  Nothing feels real, anymore; it hasn’t for a long time.  He cradles his hand against his chest, but he doesn’t see the red; just the green green fields and cobbled streets.  He doesn’t hear his own shallow breaths, whistling through his teeth; just his mother’s voice, that he thought he had forgotten, singing off key.  Softly at first, then louder.  Jean pulls him to feet he can barely feel, and he presses his forehead to Kevin’s, and he whispers in the accent he never surrendered, “Go, and be safe.”  And Kevin goes, but he knows not what safety is.

Picture Kevin, twenty one years old.  He feels scraped raw; has, since the day Jean whispered in his ear; like his hand has healed, but he was dragged across cement every day without end.  Only Andrew keeps him here, keeps him from bleeding out upon the ground.  He’s not certain if his facade is intact, but he reaches deep inside himself and finds it.  Neil’s fighting him, and somehow that helps; if he focuses on Neil’s idiotic stubborn streak he can forget that the last time he was here he had Riko by his side.  He walks out onto the stage to a round of applause, and Andrew is staring up at him with those eyes and he can breathe a little easier.  But then—he’s there.  Riko is there, and his cruelty has been whetted like a blade.  Kevin has not forgotten its sharpness.  But Neil parries every blow of Riko’s, and he’s stupid and he’s brave and Kevin wonders how on earth he got this way and he wonders if—if maybe he should try to learn.

Picture Kevin, twenty two years old.  The crowd is screaming; the stands are rumbling with the thunder of thousands of feet.  Neil is to one side of him; Andrew to the other.  They are becoming what he had once seen; the sculpture inside the marble, slowly being chiseled out.  The rest of the Foxes range behind him, and his father stands tall at the back.  Kevin takes a deep breath, drops the butt of his racquet to the ground, shifting it to his left hand.  The stadium quakes, and it should.  He takes a step onto the polished wood floor of the court he knew better than any in the world, and nothing will ever be the same.

#kevin day #aftg #all for the game #tfc #the foxhole court #meta #angst #my writing

[wonder-kid-pugh]

The Bet (Kelley O'Hara x reader) part 1

Okay I wrote this ages ago but when I tried to post it, it was too long for a single post and then forgot about it. So I'm going to break it up into 2 parts. Hope you enjoy!!!

Kelley's Pov

"Cmon O'Hara! Your late!" Coach Ellis shouts as I jog onto the field for morning practice. I caught up to the rest of the team and started doing the warm up with them, "Sorry Coach!" "Pipe down and run your lap" she shouts back before going back to her notebook.

I run alongside Alex and Allie which the later of which sniggers at me, "Too busy shagging to make it to practice on time?" I just shrug with a smug grin and keep jogging. "Do you even know her name?" Alex asks raising an eyebrow at me. I open my mouth before closing it again and try to think, "R...Riley? Rosa? Rachel! It was Rachel!"

Alex rolls her eyes, "You stop shoving your tongue down her mouth long enough to ask her?" "Don't get snippy with me just cause Serv can't put out to satisfy your needs" I tease and step out of her reach as she goes to smack me. "Are you ever going to stop sleeping around?" Christen asks from in front of us. I snort, "Why would I want too?"

We finish out the lap and start to stretch, "Beside I can't help it it they throw themselves at me". Christen scrunches her face at me, "Your disgusting". But I just shrug while Mal turns to us, "Did you hear about the new girl?" The some of the others nod while they tilt their heads at the young forward. "What new girl?" Alex asks as she stretches her quad.

Mal just shrugs, "I don't know just hear there was a new girl joining today". Christen hums, "Yeah I'm supposed to show her around after practice".  I smirk, "Is she hot?" Christen scoffs, "I haven't met her yet". I give her a cheeky grin, "Well if she's hot can you send her my way". She glares at me, "I'm not helping you add another girl to your list of conquests". I just smirk at the forward, "Fine either it's going to end up with me and her in between the sheets".

"Her and I" Becky corrects as she walks past. Christen looks shocked at our captain, "Don't encourage her!" But the captain shrugs, "I've learned a long time ago to not get involved in Kelley's sex life". I stick out my tongue at Christen who narrows her eyes at me. But Becky crosses her arms giving me a look, "But it doesn't mean I approve of your lifestyle choices".

I stop teasing Christen and look at Becky who gives me a stern look, "I don't like it but I'm not going to tell you what to do. All I'm saying is one day it's going to come back and bite you in the ass and you'll have to accept that".

I watch as Becky walks off to the drill coach has set up as I can't help but think of what she said.

"One day it's going to come back and bite you in the ass and you'll have to accept that"

But I shake my head forgetting it as I follow them to the drill. I respect Becky a lot. She's a great captain and an even better person. But there's no way she knows that for certain.

Right?

...............

I sigh as the bell rings signalling the end of history as I walk out of the class with Tobin, Allie, Alex and Ash, "God I thought he was never going to shut up". Ash nods stretching her arms up over her head, "Yeah. Collins never learns how to shut up. Should we be concerned with how excited he gets talking about the Holocaust?"

But I don't answer instead my attention turns to a girl walking down the hall. She was looking down at what I presume is her timetable as she looks at the numbers on the doors no doubt trying to find her class. She was drop dead gorgeous but as she bit the corner of her lip trying to figure out where she is- holy fuck did that do things to me.

But before I could make a move one of the football players saddle up to her with a sultry smile, "Hey your new. Need help?" She looks him up and down raising an eyebrow at him but before she can reject him I slide up beside her throwing my arm around her shoulders, "Sorry Jacobs she's with me". All I can see is him glaring at me before I wheel her away from him down the hall a bit.

"Thanks" she breathes out, "I was just trying to find my class I didn't exactly want him to get the wrong idea. I owe you one". I wiggle my eyebrows at her, "Well we can call it even if you give me your number". But my smile drops as I see her scoff and mumble something under her breath, "What?" But she just shakes her head, "Look thanks for the save but I didn't escape one flirtatious jackass only to end up with another one".

My eyes widen slightly at her bluntness before trying to recompose myself, "Now why do you think that?" "Because I know what your like. Your all the same. There's always one". "One what?" I ask again trying to understand where she's going. She waves her hand up and down motioning to me, "A player. Has a different girl every few days. Thinks they're god's gift to the world and have have any girl at their beck and call".

I try and keep the smirk off my face as I tilt my head at her, "Why do you think that's me?" She raises an eyebrow at me while she deadpans, "Cause you didn't even asking for my name before you started trying to get into my pants. Besides there's always one like you at every school".

I take a step closer to her with a grin, "Oh honey I promise, you haven't met anyone like me before". To my surprise she puts her finger on my nose and pushes my face away from hers, "Hmm I'm sure. Now excuse but I have to go to class. I'm sure you can find another girl to bang".

And with that she walks down the hallway without even looking back at me. "Don't you need help finding your class?" I shout after her but she waves her hand not sparing me a glance, "I'll find it".

I let out a puff of air as I watch her walk away from me slightly stunned. Even when I hear Allie's cackle I can't seem to pull my eyes away from her retreating figure, "Hahaha Wormie got rejected bad". Ash wraps her arm around me, "So how does it feel to know that not every available girl wants you?" But I ignore them, "Don't worry she'll come around soon". Alex shakes her head, "I don't think so Wormie. I think you've met your match here". But I shake my head, "She will fall for me". Ash smirks, "Wanna bet?"

I finally look at her with a glint in my eye, "What do you have it mind?" "There's no way you can get her before the end of championship" Ash challenges. I smirk at her, "Your on". I look down the hallway where she disappeared,

"She's mine".

.............

I lean up again the lockers with a charming smile plastered on my face, "Hello again". She rolls her eyes as she takes books out of her locker, "Hello O'Hara". I grin, "I don't remember telling you my name". She slams her locker door shut, "Your reputation proceeds you obviously". I lick my lips at that.

That's going to make my job slightly harder

I wiggle my eyebrows at her, "All good things I hope". She raises an eyebrow at me, "Depends on who you ask?" I look at her, "Who did you ask?" But she can't answer as someone calls behind her, "Hey Belle!" She looks behind her and smiles at the forward, "Hey Chris!" She returns the smile before her eyes land on me, "What are you up too Kels?" I shrug, "Just trying to welcome the new student to our wonderful school".

Christen hums obviously not impressed before turning back to the new girl, "What's your next class?" She takes out her phone and checks it quickly before answering, "Uh Calc with Mr James?" I immediately grin, "So do I. I can take you". She once again rolls her eyes while christen gives her what I could only say was a sympathy look, "Sure I'll meet you after for lunch". She sighs but nods before Christen walks away to her next class.

"Ready to go?" I ask but she just sighs and nods, "Let's go O'Hara". I start walking towards our class her barely looking at me, "Why do you hate me so much?" She shrugs, "I don't hate you, I just don't like people like you. I've barely been here a week and I've already heard all about you". "Okay that's fair. But you've only heard about me from other people. You haven't actually given me the chance to really get to know me. How you do know it's true?"

She stops right as we reach the class and turns to me, "That's true. Another thing that's true is your literally saying this to me wearing a leather jacket. What is your motorcycle in the shop?" She runs her hand through her hair before looking me straight in the eye, "It isn't just the fact that you are the perfect image of your stereotypical player. It's also the fact you wear it like a badge of honour. You love the fact that people see you as that and that girls stumble over themselves to get your attention. I'm sorry but I'm not interested in being another name to your already long list of girls you've bedded. I will say that whatever girl that finally gets you to settle down will deserve an award and I hope you find her in the future".

With that she leaves me there standing in the doorway as she turns on her heel and walks into class and introduces herself to the teacher. And as much as I would like to say her words affected me.

I was too focused on how blue her eyes were

.............

"Ladies I would like to introduce you to our new midfielder, Belle Rose" Coach Ellis says as Belle smiles at us but it soon falters when she sees me. "Get a quick stretch going because after we're going into th beep test!" Ellis shouts only for us to groan but start stretching knowing it's only going to be worst if we keep moaning.

"Funny how we keep running into each other" I joke as I walk over to her as she stretches out. She gives me her signature eye roll, "Or maybe I have a stalker?" I grin as I swing my leg, "You wish Princess". She scoffs, "Oh wow that's so original. I've never heard that one before". "I mean you kinda teed it up with your name" I laugh. She snorts, "Yeah my parents had a funny sense of humour". "Well if your beauty where's your beast?" I ask wiggling my eyebrows at her. "Anyone but you" she answers simply before walking away but I'm quick to follow.

"You really not going to give me a chance?" I sigh. "Nope" she says popping the p. "How about a little wager then?" I try again. Thankfully this gets her attention as she turns and quirks an eyebrow at me, "What are you up too O'Hara?" I smirk, "If I can outlast you in the beep test, you have to go on a date with me?" I see most of the team turns and watches us as she thinks drumming her fingers against her bicep, "Wow you really that desperate that you have to challenge me to a race?" The team laugh while I just focus on her as she tilts her head at me, "What's in it for me?" I shrug, "What do you want?" She licks her lips before smirking, "If I win, you have to go a month without sleeping with someone".

All the youngin's ohhhhh but I ignore them and hold out my hand, "Your on". She shakes my hand, "Let's see what you've got O'Hara". "You got it Princess" I wink but she scoffs and walks over to Christen calling over her shoulder, "Good luck beast".

Belle's Pov

"Are you sure about this Belle? I know you have never seen Kelley play before but she's the fastest on the team and always lasts the longest on the beep test" Christen frowns as I shake out my arms and legs. I grin, "Don't worry Pressy. Your forgetting you haven't seen me either. I got this". She sighs, "I hope your right. Kelley is my friend but she leaves a trail of heartbreak in her wake and I don't want to you be another victim of her ways".

I smile, "I appreciate that Chris. I'm glad I have a friend like you looking out for me". She smiles and gives me a side hug, "Anytime". We all line up for the beep test and Kelley makes sure that she's on the other side of me with Mal on the other. We start off with the easy levels. Obviously the goalkeepers were the first to go followed then by the defenders, Kelley being the only one left. The higher up we go the more people drop until it's just Kelley, Christen, Alex, Mal and I left.

Kelley makes it her mission to keep making comments in my ear. Teasing and trying to psyche me out. But I just shrug her off and focus on the running. Soon the other 3 drop leaving only Kelley and I. "I'll give you this. Not many people can keep pace with me" Kelley breathes out. I shrug and wink at her, "You should be worried about keeping up with me". She huffs out a laugh before another beep sounds and we're off running again. We go another few rounds and we're both breathing heavy now. "Just drop so we can both be done with this" Kelley huffs out with a cough but I shake my head with a similar huff, "No way. There's no way I'm stopping until I win".

Again the all too familiar beep comes too soon as we're forced to run again. We both make the line with barely a second but this time you could see that Kelley was struggling as she goes into a coughing fit. I frown as the defender hunches over in a coughing fit and doesn't stop. It gets so intense that she drops to her knees still hacking. I kneel beside her the beep test is completely forgotten as I take her wrists in my hands. She lifts her head as I raise her hands above her head looking into her eyes. "Just take some deep breathes. In the nose out the mouth". She nods slightly as she follows me instructions.

It was only then did I realise how close we really were. My faces scan over her face as her eyes close. Although I would never admit it out loud to her. She was beautiful. She had the looks. Her defined features paired with her sharp jawline would have anyone in awe. Then the millions of freckles scattered across her face only made her more adorable.

But Christ her eyes

When her hazel eyes opened and peered back at me. My breathing almost hitched. The way her eyes just pulled everything together was incredible.

Who knew hazel could be so pretty?

No words were spoken as we both tried to gain our breath back. But our little bubble was interrupted by the rest of the team. "You okay Kels?" Alex ask standing over her friend who nods giving her a thumbs up. It's only then I realise I'm still holding her hands in mine as I quickly drop them and stand up beside Christen who hands me a water bottle, "You good?" I nod before taking a drink.

"Okay while Kelley and Belle catch their breath the rest of you will move onto the next drill" Ellis explains as the rest of the team nod and head over to the drill. Coach turns to us, "You good O'Hara?" She just nods slightly but coach doesn't look convinced, "Sit out for a bit and if your feelings better you can join in. Don't push yourself. Same with you Rose". We both nod before coach walks over to the team and start the drill.

We both just sit in the bench for a little while just taking a breather as we watch the girls before Kelley speaks up, "You could have won". I just turn and look at her as she continues, "You could have kept going and won the bet". I just shrug, "Winning a bet shouldn't come at the expense of someone else". I furrow my eyebrows as I swear I see her flinch slightly before looking down but I ignore it. But it's quickly forgotten about as she gives me a teasing smile, "If I was there any longer I might have needed mouth to mouth".

I groan loudly, "Do you ever stop?" She shrugs with a small smile, "Sorry". I shake my head as I look at the team and see it's a defenders Vs attackers drill and nudge her foot with mine and nod my head towards them, "Cmon O'Hara time for me to show you up in the drill". I start walking over but I heard her scoff behind me before following.

"Not likely Princess"

..............

"Cmon baby you we can have some more fun this weekend. I've got the house all to myself" some girl smirks as she places her hand on Kelley's arm. I roll my eyes but I tilt my head as I see she shrug her off, "Sorry can't". It's obvious that I'm not the only one that's surprised as the girl looks taken back, "Why?" But she just shrugs, "Just can't".

But this doesn't detour her as she once again goes in close to Kelley gliding her hand down her chest to her torso, "Cmon you've never turned down an offer before. Besides we both had fun the last time". I slam my locker shut and houst my bag over my shoulder as I walk over to them, "Kels cmon we have to get to class". She nods before detaching herself from the girl who just narrows her eyes at me, "We were talking". I shrug giving her a bored look, "Not anymore". She scoffs but looks at Kelley, "So this weekend?"

Kelley genuinely looks annoyed for second so I decide to step in, "She can't". Both of them look at me, one in anger the other in confusion. "And why not?" The girl challenges crossing her arms. I lean into Kelley and nudge her side, "We have plans right?" I hold Kelley's stare as she catches on and wraps an arm around my shoulders, "Yup we have plans. Sorry Rachel". "It's Reagan" she glares at us while I try to hold back a snort. "Sorry" Kelley says as she wheels us away and towards our next class.

"Thanks" she breathes out as we make our way through the sea of people. "As much as your a pain in my ass. Your still my teammate and it looked like you needed some help" I say. She smiles, "I appreciate it". "Can I ask you a question?" I ask. "Shoot" she nods. I look at her out of the corner of my eye as we keep walking, "Why did you say no?" She looks at me as I continue, "I mean from my knowledge you never turn down something like that".

She licks her lips before she shrugs, "It was apart of the deal". I furrow my eyebrows at her, "What deal?" She grins, "The deal we made at training. About the beep test". "But I didn't win" I say. She shrugs, "Neither did I. That's why I'm also taking you out on a date this weekend". I give her a blank face, "Seriously?" She smirks, "Deadly. Neither of us won but both of us lost so we both do the forfeit".

I sigh, "I suppose that makes sense. And I'm guessing your not going to let me out of it either". She shake her head, "Nope!" I toss my head back and groan, "Fine. One date and then you leave me alone". She pumps her fist while I can't help but giggle at her child like behaviour as we continue on the way to class.

All the way I didn't realise her arm was still wrapped around me.

#kelley o hara #kelley o hara x reader #kelley o hara imagines #kelley o hara imagine #uswnt #uswnt imagines #uswnt imagine

[kian-bera]

It was senior year of high school and Dean Winchester had been given the title of quarterback of the football team. Of course the cheerleaders were all over him, but what they didn’t know was he already had an eye out from a particular one. Dark raven hair, and blue eyes that glimmered like little waves when the sun hit them at the right angle. A few months prior, his dad had finally found the demon that had killed their mother fourteen years ago. John went down with the demon, so their uncle Bobby had taken the boys under his wing. For the first time, the boys had a chance at a normal life, and Dean finally had a chance with one of his crushes. Sam made fun of him for it, but Dean didn’t care. He knew his little brother was teasing.

The practice that day was cut short due to an incoming storm, while everyone was upset due to the big game coming up, they had no choice. The school and the coaches call the end of practice.

“Good luck boys, we don’t have another practice until game day, so go home, stay safe, and I’ll hopefully see you boys tomorrow. 1...2..3..”

“GO ANGELS!” THe team shouted before breaking apart to go home.

Dean slid his way over to the cheerleaders who were huddled in a tight circle until Dean came over. All the girls tried to push past each other and talk to him, but Dean walked right through all of them. He made his way over to the one male cheerleader and sat down.

“Hi, name’s Dean…” Dean flashed his winning smile, but he could feel himself getting flushed.

“Winchester, I know. You are kinda the quarterback. Everyone knows your name.” The other boy gave Dean a shy smile and continued packing up his practice bag. “Cas...Henry Castille.” Henry swept a piece of loose hair away from his face.

“Oh...Well uh there is going to be a party after the game friday night, I was wondering if you would like to come with me?” Dean asked awkwardly. He had never had trouble asking someone out before, but here he was, stumbling over the words from his mouth.

“I am actually busy friday night, family stuff ya know? Gotta love family.” Henry gave a nervous chuckle and gave Dean a small smile.

“Yeah I do understand, that sucks. It’s going to be a fun party.”

“DEAN!” A young voice called from the side of the bleachers. Both Henry and Dean glanced up at the young boy. His long brown hair was all messed up and his lip was bleeding. “Dean!” The boy made his way over to his older brother and plopped down in his lap.

“What happened Sammy? Who did I need to kill?” Dean asked, smoothing out Sam’s hair.

“His name is Gabriel. He is so annoying and he keeps playing pranks on me. The teachers just say it’s harmless fun so they won’t do anything about it.” Sam complained.

“Question about this tall, blondish hair, green eyes? Has a small scar on his face right about here.” Henry asked, making a slashing motion in front of his ear.

“Yeah, you know him?” Sam asked.

“Unfortunately…” Henry’s voice went flat as he narrowed. “That is my brother. The not so responsible one. Don’t feel bad Sam, he does it to all of us, but of course dad won’t say anything to him about the pranks. Then again, no one has heard from dad in ages.” Henry shook his head in frustration. “Anyways, as I said, family business after the game.”

“Oh is he your new boyfriend?” Sam asked, looking up at Dean. Dean elbowed Sam in the side and gave a nervous chuckle.

“We should be going. They didn’t cut practice for no reason.” Dean told Henry standing up, grabbing his bag.

“Yeah you’re right. Uh nice talking to you>” Henry said walking off. He gave Dean and Sam a wave and went to his car where several of his brothers were waiting. They all piled into a mini van and drove off.

Dean sat Sam in the passenger seat and took a first aid kit out of the trunk. Dean had never bothered to clean it out just in case for some reason they needed the supplies. Dean quickly closed the trunk and came back over to Sam who was playing with a video game console Bobby had gotten him for Christmas.

“What ya playing?” Dean asked as he cleaned off the dried blood to clean the cut.

“It’s Mario. I am so close to saving Princess Peach.”

“Is that right?” Dean gave a small chuckle as he pressed the alcohol soaked cotton ball against Sam’s lip. Sam jumped a little and let out a small squeal.

“That hurt.” Sam complained.

“Why do you think I was talking to you.” Dean countered, ruffling Sam’s hair. “So how was the student council meeting? Does our ninth grade president have any smart ideas?”

“I did, but the pesky upperclassmen shot me down. They said my idea was baby and childish.” Sam told Dean as the older brother put the first aid kit back in the trunk.

“I’m sure it wasn’t Sam, what was your idea?” Dean questioned, getting into the car.

“I suggested they get another computer lab because more and more places are starting to use them. So it would be useful if we knew how to use them ourselves. All i got in response to that was ‘Sam, it’s not like computers are going to take over and replace us at everything, plus, the teachers like the old school handwritten papers anyways. So next…’ I’m going to laugh when we all end up doing everything through computers. I mean you have to brace the new technology to advance into the future. They are the stupish and childish ones by not understanding that concept.” Sam gave a small laugh and smiled over at Dean.

“You are probably right, you tend to be so. I bet you end up marrying a computer.”

“Well you know, sometimes I think technology is more reliable than people anyways. I mean you have your car don’t you.”

“Hey Baby is a classic treasure. You can’t insult perfection.”

“Exactly.” Sam retorted. The two brothers shared a laugh before Dean blasted their cassette tapes all the way home. The storm clouds had rolled into town, and thunder sounded off in the distance. BY the time the boys got to Bobby’s, it was pouring down rain, and they spirinted inside, backpacks in tow. Bobby gave them a towel to dry off with and asked them how school was.

“Well all of the older kids are idiots.” Sam said, “but did you know that snails have no gender. Well they do, but they don’t. Anyways next week we get to cut up a fish.” Sam smiled and ran upstairs to do his homework.

“That kid scares me sometimes.” Bobby told Dean sitting down at the kitchen table.

“You and me both.” Dean told him, chucking his book bag to the back door.

“You don’t have any homework son?” Bobby asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, I don’t…” A flash of lightning from outside illuminated Dean’s face as he tried to wiggle his way out of his math homework.

“Boy get your homework out or no game on friend.”

“But Bobby….”

“Dean...Now.” Dean grunted in response and got out his binder for school. It was a complete mess unlike Sam’s who was completely organized and colorcoded.

“How do you find anything in that mess?” Bobby asked.

“It is organized, in my own way.” Dean told Bobby, taking out his math book and some paper and a pencil. Dean began to scribble down some problems on a notebook as a roll of thunder shook the house, causing the lights to flicker. Dean glanced up and shrugged his shoulders. When he glanced back down, Bobby was gone, but Sam was standing there with a pair of scissors. “What are you doing?”

“The sleeves on my shirt are too long, they are getting in my way, and you do it better.” Sam said, giving Dean the scissors and his arms. Dean gave a small laugh.

“Well you need to change into a different shirt. Go on, change into a different shirt and come back.” Dean took the scissors and set them on the table. He got up to find the small sewing kit he kept in his bag. He used to give all of his shirts that couldn't fit him to Sam. Sam didn’t like the very long sleeves, so Dean would cut and fix them for Sam. Dean felt a little weird as he sat there and threaded the needle. He sometimes wondered what the other guys would think of him, since everyone thought he was the cool guy. Then he remembered that he was doing it for Sam, and he didn’t care what they would think.

Before Sam came back downstairs, the lights went out from the storm outside. Dean found some flashlights and candles and lit them. He placed them around the halls and the kitchen so he could see and Sam could make it back to the kitchen without falling over anything.

Sam eventually made his way back downstairs with a new shirt on, and the one with sleeves to long in his hands. He gave the shirt to Dean and smiled. Dean put the sleeve up against Sam’s arm and put a pin at where it would fall on his wrist. He cut the fabric off a little bit over that area. He gave the extra fabric to Sam who kept it for whatever reason. Dean was never quite sure what Sam actually did with the scraps, but he never questioned. After another thirty minutes had passed, Dean gave the shirt back to Sam.

“Here is this better?” Dean asked, as Sam slipped the shirt back on. Sam glanced down at the sleeves which were no longer too big for his small arms.

“Thank you Dean.” Sam gave his brother a hug, which Dean reciprocated. The storm went on and through the night, but was clear by the morning. Which was good, because that would mean the field would be dry by the big game that was coming that evening. The school was abuzz with excitement since the game determined whether they went to state or not, and school was cut short for a big prep rally at the end of the day.

Everyone came over to Dean and some of the other football players during lunch to congratulate them and wish them good luck. Eventually Henry made his way over and gave a sheepish wave.

“Hey good luck with the game tonight, I hope you do well.” The cheerleader told Dean.

“Oh uh, thank you. You too. Uh keep those poms poms waving.” Dean told him giving awkward finger guns. Henry finger gunned back and walked away trying to figure out why he did that. Dean glanced down at his hands before back up to the other players who were sitting with him at the table.

“Dude, what was that?” One asked, tilting his head at Dean.

“I have no idea.” Dean replied, trying to keep his face from turning red, but the other had started to pick up what was going.

“Dean and Henry sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes love, then comes marriage, wait is that even legal. I don’t think that is legal. HA imagine being with someone and you can’t even get married because it’s against the law.” Everyone else at the table started laughing, so Dean just got up and left. He didn’t feel like dealing with their bull crap. Dean located Henry across the lunchroom by himself. Dean started to head over there before he got ambushed by a bunch of girls. He did his best to get away, but by the time they stopped talking, the bell had rung for them to get back to class. Dean passed by Sam who was heading to lunch and gave his brother a small wave. Sam waved back as a group of people surrounded him congratulated him on his victory. Dean tilted his head, but Sam shrugged it off.

Dean stopped by his locker to grab a book for his next class, just to find his locker had been vandalized by some of the other guys. They left a bunch of sticky notes on his locker with some degrading words and insults. Dean quickly took them down and grabbed his book from inside the locker. When Dean got to class, he tossed the wad of sticky notes into the trash can and took his seat. Their teacher walked in right as the bell rang. Dean felt something hit his head and turned around to find a paper airplane on the ground.

“Passing notes now are we Mister Winchester?” Mrs.Smalls asked. She took the note and opened it in front of the class. “Dean Winchester is a big ole F- Who wrote this? I demand you speak up now or I am giving this whole class detention.” Mrs.Smalls glanced around the room but no one spoke up. Mrs.Smalls shrugged. “Ok I will be seeing all of you except Mister Winchester after the prep rally. Three hours. And hour per letter for that terrible word.”

“Good thing we didn’t write what we were originally going to write.” Someone in the back of the class whispered.

“What was that?” Mrs.Smalls asked. She had many things wrong with her, but her hearing was not one.

“Nothing Mrs.Smalls.” James Quaker told their teacher. James was one of the other players on the team. He never liked Dean much to begin with, so anything he could find to drag Dean through the mud with waas fine by him. Mrs.Smalls let free the rest of the class for detention except James and the boy sitting next to him, David.

“But Mrs.Smalls we have practice.” David complained.

“Well maybe you should have thought about that before throwing the paper airplane.” The class was eventually let out for the prep rally and Dean made his way to the locker rooms in the gym where they were waiting to be introduced. Dean found Henry sitting by himself. Henry seemed to be crying as Dean quietly sat next to him.

“I’m so sorry.” Henry whispered through tears.

“What no, hey it wasn’t your fault Henry. The guys are just jerks okay. Don’t pay them any attention.”

“Don’t pay them any attention? Even the girls are in on it, and I can’t do anything or it would be considered abuse.” Henry looked up for the first time and saw some scratches across Henry’s face.

“Henry I…” Dean put his hand up, but Henry shrouded away. “Henry please at least let me help.”

“I’m not about to let you walk me to the nurses office. Then I would have to explain what happened…”

“I have a first aid kit in my car. We could walk out…”

“Thank you Dean, but once again no.” Henry just gave a small smile and got up since the cheerleaders were announced first so they could introduce the football players.” Dean grabbed Henry’s hand and let them linger there for a second before he walked away. Dean just sat there fiddling with his helmet. Being the quarterback, Dean was introduced first. He ran out between the cheerleader who he could hear snickering at him as he ran by. Dean just put on a smile as he waved at everyone and ran over to the spot where the team was going to take a picture. Once everyone was there, they snapped a quick picture before continuing with the rally. The cheerleaders did some routines and the theater department came out and did a dance routine they made up. Sam was dressed up as a little Angel and Dean let out a small laugh.

After the rally everyone was dismissed to go home. The football players made their way to fuel to get in one last practice before the game. The coach told everyone that if they didn’t stop with all the ruckus he heard about today, he would forfeit the team for the game. For a while, everyone was quiet and focused just on the practice. Afterwards however was a different story. Dean didn’t know how to deal with it, so he just went and sat in his car. He made sure all the doors were locked and windows rolled up tight. After a few seconds he hated the silence so he blasted ‘Eye of the Tiger’ and just sat there hitting the steering wheel like a drum.

Dean eventually opened his eyes when he heard tapping on the window. He thought it might have been Sam, so he just turned down the music and opened the passenger side door.

“Hi Dean.” That wasn’t Sam’s voice though. Dean sat up straight and turned off the music.

“Oh hi Henry. Are you okay?” Dean asked.

“Do you still have that first aid kit?” Henry asked, rubbing his face softly where the scratches were.

“Yeah of course, stay here.” Dean got out of the car and quickly grabbed the first aid from the trunk. He came back and started to talk to Henry like he did with Sam to distract him.

“So how was your favorite class today?” Dean questioned.

“Oh good. We learned the art of avacodo’s number.” Henry told him laughing.

“You mean avogadro's number?”

“Yeah that….owwww.”

“Sorry...sorry yeah I know this probably stings.”

“Castiel what are you doing?” A voice asked. A tall woman with short brown hair randomly appeared in the backseat.

“Castiel?” Dean asked.

“Naomi!” Cas jumped before sighing. “Dean, Naomi, Naomi, Dean. This is my...boss…” Cas told Dean.

“How did you get here? You’re...you’re not a demon are you? Because if you are, you are in for quite a surprise.” Dean told Naomi.

“No, the opposite actually. An Angel and so is Castiel or as you know him Henry.” Naomi glared as Cas who was sitting there with his head down. He had no idea what to do or say with Naomi there. “I sent you here to watch over Dean Winchester, not fall in love with him Castiel.”

#sam winchester #castiel winchester #dean winchester #castiel #fanfic #dean and sam #destiel #fandom #supernatural #fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #misha collins

[bagels-and-seagulls]

ok so hot jock david and cheerleader matteo was *chefs kiss* would you ever consider doing one from david's pov ??

i’m watching the sooners take on lsu and already want to die, so let’s fucking go

matteo’s pov

-you play football? the principal asked with an airiness in her voice, looking over the file in her hands at him as her glasses slipped down her nose. yes, david answered easily, and he clawed his nails into a hole that was in the arm of his chair. quarterback? she asks with a little bit of hum, looking between the file and david. yes, david repeats. we have an opening on our team here, if you were interested, she says simply, flipping a couple of pages around, though i understand that might a little overwhelming with the move and all. and david’s breath catches in his throat because he thought the only thing in front of him was a series of closed doors, it wouldn’t be a problem? he asks with a little bit of hope stuck to the edges of his words. no, not at all, she says with a little smile, her hands folding over each other as they rested on the desk. 

-david goes to meet with the head coach that afternoon, who's voice is gruff and overused as he shakes david’s hand with a little bit too much enthusiasm and compliments the way david’s previous team absolutely demolished them the previous year. he leaves as the new starter and thinks about second chances. 

-he meets the team in the flurry of his first day starting a new school and tries to keep up with everyone’s names and positions as they all come up and clap him on the back in greeting like they’re already old friends. the defensive captain takes him aside after initial introductions, leading him onto the field and giving him a low down that david was manically trying to absorb, the previous qb was weak on the left, mostly ran a running game, but i heard you got an arm. and i know that fitzy has been itching to prove that he can catch half way down the run, so i’d try to stick with him while you’re getting- he collides with another boy that was standing near the entrance to the fence and throws a nasty look over his shoulder. anyways, he overexaggerates, as you’re getting in the rhythm. his voice fades out as david looks over his shoulder to see the other boy, who’s hair was flopping down in his eyes, who was glaring at their backs with his face scrunched up in a way that david supposes is to be mean, though it mostly made david want to learn a little bit more. 

-the boy looks away when he catches david’s glance, and david wishes he didn’t. he looked good in those little shorts though, david thinks. 

-he sees the boy again in the locker room later that day. he’s grabbing his stuff out of his locker, and david takes a moment to appreciate the lines of his body as he walks towards his own just a few away. hey, he says before he can really stop himself, just because he was itching in a way he couldn’t place to see the way the boy’s eyes looked up close. he looks over his shoulder, and his brows furrow up in what david thinks must be confusion. hey, he repeats as he clears his throat and goes to zip up his stuff, and david feels the words, i’m david, fall out of his mouth as he accidentally knocks his hand into his lock and tries to cover it up with a smile that he hopes at least looks a little bit cool. i heard, the boy responds like it was obvious, and david feels his smile get a little bit bigger while he thinks this might be easier than he thought. did you? he asks. somebody pulls matteo’s attention away from him with a yell and a shout, and sneers something a little harsh out to him in a way that made david remember old locker rooms and people who didn’t appreciate a good thing, even if that thing was a little bit different than them. but matteo serves the guy something just as cold back as he slams his locker shut. david thinks it’s a shame as matteo storms out. he thinks about doors that he thought he might be able to open, even if the last time he tried, he ended up getting kicked out. 

-david meets a girl named leonie in his math class who smiles politely at him and holds her hand out for him to shake like it was something david should want to do, and there’s something about the way her eyes sparkle that make david respect the way she shakes his back. you’re on the football team? she whispers when they’re both done with their work and are waiting for the teacher to do something other than drown on about the good old days. david nods and shrugs. i’m one of the cheer captains, she says, and david says that that’s cool. he’s was friends with the cheerleaders at his old school. they taught him how to do a back flip. what’s the name of the guy on your team? i think he’s a captain, too, he asks when he finally thinks about it after the teacher starts going on a tangent about traffic. who? matteo? 

-they have the same literature class, him and matteo, and by certain fates, david is assigned the open seat next to him. he goes to say hello, smile at him, maybe tell him that he likes his sweater if he was feeling a little bit bold, but he doesn’t even look at him when david plops down next to him and quietly whispers some sort of greeting to him. and david thinks about desperate times and perhaps desperate measures. are you really the cheer captain? david asks a little bit louder because matteo hasn’t looked over yet, and it was making david want to stick out his bottom lip. certainly he wasn’t that repulsive, he thinks. what about it? matteo asks with his arms crossed in front of his chest, and david scrunches his nose up because matteo still hasn’t turned towards him even though david is leaning in close enough that he might fall right out of his chair if he were to lean anymore. desperate measures. i just never got your name is all, didn’t think it was leonie, he teases because maybe if polite conversation didn’t work, david could tug on a pigtail just to get a little bit of attention. and matteo’s purses his lips and looks over with a pretty flush on his face as he bites back, right, and i’m sure your the defensive line captain, too. how many tackles you get last year?

-as david is chatting with leonie before practice, he notices matteo look up at him and immediately turn away just in time to miss the way that david waves at his back. is he always that friendly? he asks leonie when she laughs into the back of her hand at the way he frowns. he just isn’t a fan of football players, she says with a bit of a smirk as she seems to realize something that must have been written clearly on david’s face, though you might be able to change his mind. open his eyes to new possibilities. 

-david learned almost instantly that subtle flirtation and quietly placed compliments laced through his smiles weren’t going to get him anywhere around the same time that he cements the fact that matteo with his jaw clenched and his cheeks pink was something he caught himself thinking about too many times when he couldn’t sleep at night. desperate measures, he catches himself repeating as he drags out greetings when he’s walking past matteo in the hall and winks slow enough to make sure that matteo sees, just because he knew that matteo was going to shake his head, roll his eyes, and look away. the only attention that ever seems to satisfy the way his fingers reach out towards matteo when he isn’t paying attention is when he gets matteo to throw jabs back at him in literature as he scoots in close to avoid their assignment together in hopes for  a slice of matteo’s affections. 

-he watches him on the sidelines, tossing people in the air and throwing himself over his feet, and tries to convince himself that it isn’t creepy, just an act of silent admiration towards a team that was dedicated to the encouragement and support for his own. every now and then, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, matteo looks back at him, too. 

-david thinks about matteo too much in those little shorts he wears to practice, and david knows- knows, that that at the very least is just a touch creepy. 

-the season starts next week, david says when matteo has been blankly staring down at his homework that’s completely filled in anyways, and the teacher hasn’t shown up even though class started ten minutes ago. and david was feeling a little bit bored because he’s already tried to say something to matteo twice and flipped through his phone more than that. i know, matteo responds, moving his pencil idly over the page in front of him, and the sound of his voice makes david feel a little bit giddy at the same time the desire to get matteo to look at him was reaching the top of david’s head. are you gonna cheer for me? he asks because he knows that ought to get a reaction, and it does because matteo scoffs at him and mutters back, we cheer for everyone. don’t flatter yourself. and it makes david laugh, somewhere in his throat as he leans back in his chair as he admits, well i’m excited to see your dance anyways. he means it, but he doesn't think matteo believes him. 

-the third game of the season is against his old school. and david makes it a point to toss a fifty yard throw that fucking brady would be proud of as it lands right into fitzy’s hands like a blessing, and he slides himself into the end zone like it was that easy. david gets sacked on the next play. hard. and the tackle spits down at him and asks how he managed to get on another team, which wasn’t much appreciated by one of his lineman who pushes the tackle away from david with a shout and a reminder to stay in his lane. david looks him right in the eye the next down as he spins left around him and runs to the end of the field his own goddamn self. 

-they win that game in a blowout, 42 to 7. david doesn’t shake his old coach’s hand. his own coach didn’t make him. 

-they win the game in a blowout, and everyone starts talking about how david was the best player the school had ever seen. everyone seems to have plenty of nice things to say about him, except perhaps the one person he really wanted to.

-did you watch the game last week? david asks matteo, not really expecting to get an answer, but willing to shoot his shot anyways, like every other day. he never was a quitter after all. and his constant attempts must wear down on matteo eventually because he rolls his eyes and responds, i go to all the games. you know that. and david feels satisfied all the way down to his toes and knows that it’s showing on his face as he leans in to say,  just cause you’re there, doesn’t mean you watch. you said so yourself, you cheer for everyone, in attempts to keep the conversation going. and for some reason, that must stump matteo, if just a little bit, because he keeps looking away and back towards david like he was going to throw his hands up at it, and goes, yeah, and? and david wants to spell it out as clear as he can because even though he wouldn’t say he was being subtle before, he feels the need to tear his chest right open and pull his cards out from behind his sternum to lay them on the table. i watch you, you know? he says with his voice only a little bit wobbling, you finally got your front flip things timed with that other guy.

-and that must stump matteo even more because he stares at david like a fish out of water before he goes to argue, you’re in the locker room when we perform routines. david perks up a little bit because now this is officially the longest conversation they’ve ever had without saying something mean to each other, and he’s willing to keep it going even longer just to see if he can memorize the color of matteo’s eyes. they were making their way into the margins of his notes so he might as well get the coloring right. yeah, but you got it in practice on thursday afternoon, so i just guessed, david shrugs, keeping his eyes up towards matteo’s face and not wondering down the lines of his arms. matteo clears his throat. you need to watch your right side in the pocket, he says. your ol on that side isn’t as strong.

-david thinks that matteo must finally be getting it after that interaction because david doesn’t feel the need to pull on pigtails so much after that, doesn’t feel like he needs those desperate measures he’s been storing away somewhere. when he waves, matteo starts to smile and duck his head, eventually starts waving back. when he says hi, matteo starts nodding, starts acknowledging his attempts at a begrudging friendship when they pass each other on the field or in the hallway. when he asks questions, matteo starts actually answering them, even if they’re only with short little mumblings that don’t make too much sense out of context. david starts to think that maybe they’re friends, if only a little, in the same breath he thinks about open doors. 

-he stills thinks about matteo late at night. 

-he stills pulls a pigtail every now and then just to see matteo blush. 

-leonie invites him to a party, a party that matteo is at, and david feels like he needs a second drink to hold in his other hand too when he sees the patterned, black button up and those form fitting jeans that matteo is wearing. something that was quite unlike the stuff he wore to school that seemed more about comfort and fading away than actually showing himself off. david keeps his eyes up towards matteo’s face, shoulders at the lowest, at least mostly. at one point, matteo is leaning over the kitchen counter and laughing along with something that someone is saying, and david is only human after all. leonie catches him looking, and david sends her a look that says to keep her mouth shut. 

-someone suggests a game of truth or dare.

-it’s leonie’s turn to dare someone, and she looks david right in the eye as she sips her beer and then drawls out, matteo, her eyes landing right on him. truth or dare? she asks, and matteo raises and eyebrow and shrugs, dare. and she grins like a cat with a canary, i dare you to sit on david’s lap for the rest of the game. she looks over at david. he glares at her, and she just smiles as if to say not to look the gift horse in the mouth. david looks over at matteo, who is looking right back, and thinks this might be his last time for desperation before he gives up for good. he leans back and motions matteo over when jonas and sara cheer from across the room. matteo looks at david with squinted eyes, and david feels like he can’t help but wink and pat his lap just to see if he can get one last little blush. 

-matteo leans back against david’s chest, and it takes all of david’s effort not to lean into his shoulder and just take a deep breath to store something else away for his memory. and even though it probably isn’t really necessary, not really part of the dare at all, david keeps an arm around matteo, to keep him steady, he tells himself, to pretend just for a little while, he knows. the whole thing ends up being too overwhelming for him, and his thoughts get stuck in his throat as he mutters out, this is nice. and matteo takes a sip of his beer. is it? he asks, and david wants to pout a little bit at that because it makes it seem like matteo doesn’t agree. yeah, don’t you think? he asks because he’s already put his cards down, already has made himself and his intention clear, and was kind of annoyed with the way matteo wasn’t willing to do the same. are you serious? matteo asks, and david tsks at it, tugs at matteo until he looks over his shoulder enough that david can see his eyes. i’ve been flirting with you since i got here, he states because matteo knew that. he had to. david hasn’t been subtle in a long time at this point. is that what you call it? matteo asks back, and david laughs because this he can do, poking fun. he can do that. 

-later when everyone else is distracted, after matteo has leaned even further back into david’s chest and david has breathed down the back of his neck, matteo asks if he wants to step out for a smoke. and david thinks that’s as clear a sign as he’s ever going to get, a wide open door eve, so he says yes. and matteo leads him to the bathroom and kisses him square on the mouth before that door is even closed. david can’t help but laugh. 

#lsu is absolutely crushing ok if anyone cares #i know i don't #anyways i have another one i'm going to try to post for this verse tongith #davenzi #davenzi fic #my writing #other aus #hot jock david

[prorevenge]

Touchdown.

As I recall this story, I’m aware that some of the comments said by the perpetrators below will seem a bit straw-man in their delivery, but keep in mind that this was in an area considered very extremist.

So, this took place back in high school. This was 8 years ago in the Midwest. I’m 25 now, and While I don’t cherish all that lead to this, I do fondly remember its conclusion.

When I was in 11th grade, I went to a school that had a really heavy emphasis on School Spirit. And honestly, that part was great. It didn’t just focus on sports and other clubs like it, but also celebrated AV, Debate, Dance, etc. We had a pretty good football team and My boyfriend at the time was a first string running back. I wasn’t on the cheerleading squad, but I often helped with choreography for them, Dance and Flag teams. Mostly because I didn’t want the stigma of being the only boy on the cheerleading squad.

I wasn’t often bullied myself. I mean, there was the occasional slur tossed at me in the hall by your run-of-the-mill homophobes. But as far as anything extreme went, it didn’t happen to me. I figured it was mostly due to the fact that I was pretty important to 3 school squads.

However, my boyfriend, when he finally came out and started dating me, did not get the same treatment from everyone. Maybe it was because he was supposed to be Masculine, tough guy, football star but things got a lot tougher for him really quick.

His family and close friends were pretty cool with it all, but school was a different story.

His teammates were the first to turn their backs on him. Treating him like dirt where a week before he was their ‘best friend.’ Obviously not all of them were like this, but enough of them were and they outshined the good players who didn’t mind.

He seemed to take most of it in stride, as he knew what he was getting into when he came out. He told me a little name calling wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle and ‘if being honest with them changed their attitudes so much, then they never really were his friends.’

However, this is @prorevenge. Things never really stop there.

Apparently, this change in attitude didn’t just stop at his teammates. His coach wasn’t a big fan of having a ‘fairy boy’ on his team, and began pushing my boyfriend to the absolute limit.

He had to do twice as much work as everyone else for no good reason. And then, he’d get benched for ‘slacking off’ during practice. This was clearly taking its toll on him and it was hard for me to sit by. I wanted to confront them, and to figure out how his personal life had any connection with his ability to play. But, I was 5’8”. The shortest guy on the team was 5’11”. They were 20 in total. I was 1, maybe more than that if I could convince some friends to back me up. They lifted weights, ate steel and shat bullets. I was a dancer, ate normally and shat healthily. The point is, I wouldn’t have stood a chance in a confrontation with these guys. So, for the moment, I let it go and made the most of BFs time with me.

However, one day, he showed up to my practice, bruised and sporting a swollen eye. Aka, a very frequent black eye. He sits next to me and before I can even ask what’s wrong, he cries for what was the only time I ever saw him crack. I was furious and asked him to tell me what the actual fuck happened and told me something that still makes me queasy to this day.

Apparently it was weight room training day for the team. That room with all the weights and treadmills and such. And as usual, my boyfriend was told to run twice as much and lift twice as much as everyone else. Apparently Coach was having a shit day and decided to push him the hardest he’d ever been pushed. He couldn’t take it and passed out temporarily when he stopped. He said he was only out for a few seconds (thank god.) but when he came to, his coach was looking down on him both physically and metaphorically. He apparently told him that he wasn’t even fit to be on the team if he couldn’t even run without passing out like a ‘sissy’.

Then my boyfriend told me he shared a look with the other team members and left the room. And then several other members started taking turns wailing on him, kicking him and spitting on him. It didn’t go on for long before a few of the good teammates got them to cut it out and he finally managed to get out of the weight room and find me.

I consoled him, but I felt my blood burn from the rage I felt. I know people bullshit all the time about ‘blacking out’ and going all primal on a bitch, but I felt that feeling. Like all reason was gonna flood out of my brain and I was gonna find a bat and crack knees. But my boyfriend practically pleaded with me to not say anything. He said he didn’t want it to get worse, and picking a fight wouldn’t make it better. So I sucked it up but felt the wheels in my head start turning. Something needed to be done.

I couldn’t let this go on. So I started thinking and I figured out a way to get these bastards. To pin them with all of their shit and get some justice for my boyfriend.

I had quite a few friends all across the school. Cheerleading, Dance, Flag and, most importantly, AV Club (Since they recorded most performances for Dance and Show Choir.)

I got a few of my cheerleader friends in on my scheme and convinced our coach to let us practice near the team that day. It was almost playoff season so it wasn’t a hard push. Furthermore, I asked if my AV club friend, Ciara, could record our routines so we could review them so I could see if anyone needed work. She was a really chill coach and said yes to that too. Obviously we hoped to catch these guys on film, and use it as evidence against them... and hope something came of it. Honestly, it wasn’t the best plan but it was what I came up with.

When we got to the field that day, I began running through the steps of a routine we came up with while our plan was put into motion.

And it was a nightmare for me. I heard the coach and saw his treatment first hand. Screaming at my boyfriend to work harder, run faster. And his teammates heckled and pushed him around in their all-to-subtle ways. ‘Accidentally’ throwing passes at his head. Shoulder checking him when they lined up for Defensive Drills.

But I knew I couldn’t say anything yet. He’d be upset if I stepped in and the tormenting wouldn’t get better. So I bit my lip and endured.

I was beginning to think we weren’t going to get anything. If we showed our principal or administration what we’d seen, the Coach or the players could just spin it as harmless heckling and ‘seeing the potential in him’ as an excuse to push him harder.

But luck finally got on our side, and another pass came flying towards BF and hit him square in his black eye.

I flinched when I saw it. He fell to his knees and cried out. I ran over to check on him and see if he was okay. He said he was fine but I could see his ‘good’ shining with tears. It clearly hurt a lot. I heard them laughing. The coach chuckling and those assholes who hurt him in the first place.

I just couldn’t hold my tongue anymore. I wasn’t known for shouting or cussing but I turned, my nastiest snarl on my face and screamed “What the actual fuck is wrong with your asses?”

The football twats started ‘Oooh’ing at us and the coach shook his head. “What? Does he need his boyfriend to fight his battles now?” He said.

I told him that he and his stupid team was the reason he was hurt in the first place. This didn’t deter him. I don’t remember his exact words, but he said something to the effect of “You should be happy I’m even letting this faggot on my team.” And told me that he’d speak with the coach about my position with the Other teams. Get me kicked off so I had nothing.

I looked back at Ciara. Thank God she had the wherewithal to bring her camera closer to watch him. I stood up, taking BFs hand and leaving the field, middle finger raised as I left. When I finally met up with Ciara, she told me she got the whole thing. I still wasn’t happy, but I was relieved we finally had something on these bastards. She told me she’d have a friend get it ready and we’d go to the Principal that week.

We went to her a couple of days later with our evidence and she was almost as furious as I was. She informed us that she was almost ready to call my boyfriend into the office to ban him from the team because his grades had slipped drastically over the past few months. From honor roll to Cs and Ds. Now she knew the reason. She called in the Coach and had us stick by to corroborate our story. When she asked the question, he did exactly what I thought he would do. He spun it like it was some ‘great potential’ he saw in my boyfriend, but that if it was costing him his grades, he’d inform him that he’d need to get them up or be barred.

I almost grinned like a Cheshire Cat when she turned her monitor around and showed him the footage of him insulting and threatening me and my boyfriend. He was stunned silent, and I was on Cloud 9 with a grin only the fucking sun could hope to match. She asked us to go to class for the day and we did, and awaited the fallout.

And oh my God was it sweet. First and foremost, BF was offered a chance to complete his missing work, no penalties. His grades got back to their previous state. But the best part was the Coach’s immediate firing for ‘Blatent Discrimination and Encouraging violence on a student.’ He wasn’t a teacher so finding a replacement wasn’t difficult. The Principal sent out emails to various schools and the Superintendent of our district and explained the situation. No way was he getting any more jobs in this area.

Furthermore, the jerks who actually committed the act faced not only suspension, but also were kicked off of the team. Most of them had to spend their Senior Year watching Sophomores and Second String players win their playoff game. They didn’t win the Championship but they did make it into the top 10.

But most importantly, my boyfriend was able to resume a relatively normal life.

We broke up after high school. I moved across country for School and he went to our State College. But we maintain a healthy friendship to this day. We try to talk at least twice a year. And we saw each other at our 5 year reunion. He’s happily married to a new guy and I’m in a great relationship and we all hit it off.

I never knew what happened to those guys or the Coach after High School. But I like to think that losing out on what they did may have taught them a lesson. And if not... well may God have mercy on their hateful asses. I certainly won’t.

(source) story by (/u/Kayden_Pauser)

#prorevenge #by /u/Kayden_Pauser #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

[pixiealtaira]

Dragged Kicking and Screaming  ( 17/ 22)

Title: Dragged Kicking and Screaming  

Or How Burt Hummel Mashed the Hummels and Hudsons Into One Functioning Family.

Characters(s): Kurt, Burt, Carole, Finn, with short appearances by the New Directions guys and various ops who mostly take up space. Rating: PG13 Summary: Somehow the Hummel household and the Hudson household had to come together…

Chapter Nine Chapter Ten

Chapter eleven Chapter twelve  Chapter thirteen  Chapter fourteen

Chapter fifteen  Chapter sixteen

17.

“We have a large barbecue for Labor Day,” Kurt said, bringing the conversation back to holidays. It was abrupt and awkward but it was back to Holidays. “I wrote down the back-to-school stuff Dad just listed. Anyway…We provide all the food…well, us and Jake.  It is in honor of all our workers. It won’t be changing. Just thought you’d like to know. That was what you were invited to the Monday the week before Dad’s heart attack…you know that thing you said you’d come to but never showed up for.”

“We went boating with some of Mom’s friends.  Labor Day is about doing your last big summer fun things anyway…it’s not meant to honor anyone.” Finn said. “That is just stupid.”

“Finn, you should really look up how certain holidays came to be and what they were created for one of these eons.” Kurt answered.

“Kurt…”

“Yes, Dad.”

“Are there any traditions you do for Labor Day?” Burt asked.

“Just go have fun.  Sometimes Mom lets me throw a party. Maybe there is a football game.” Finn just shrugged.

Kurt wrote down “normal labor day stuff like Kurt and Burt have had it since Burt became part owner of the shop” and Finn went to complain but Carole shook her head.

“Next is Halloween.” Kurt said.

“I love Halloween.  We go trick or treating then head to a Halloween party.  This year was kinda lame…I mean Mike and I got stuck taking Puck’s little sister and her friends trick-or-treating and so we went with them and didn’t get much candy.  Can you believe people gave more candy to Puck’s sister and her friends than us bigger kids? But we told Puck we’d help and so we did. And by the time I got to the Adams’ house for the party they’d done the fun stuff and sure it was blast drinking and playing games and stuff but I missed out on the fun.  We got more candy than we did Freshman year when everyone told us we were too old…of course then we had real fun after that so it didn’t matter…and sophomore year I didn’t even go to anything good because Quinn was still lying the her folks and so she made me help with her church’s harvest festival and that was way stupid.  But freshman year was a blast.  Puck didn’t come but the Nelsons and the Adams and I took out Azimio’s older brother’s truck and the Nelsons provided eggs and we just drove around town throwing them at places whenever Adams’ stopped. It was a…”

“Finn…” Carole warned him, trying to stop him from talking more.

“What Mom?  You’re interrupting. I’m sure Burt is getting kick out of this.  He was into sports and stuff when he was young so he was sure to have done stuff like egg cars and buildings and throw pee balloons. I mean all the popular kids do things like that unless they are goody two shoes or pricks who are just popular because they have tons of money but who no one really wants to be friends with.”

“I’d love to hear more Carole.” Burt said sternly. “I have names now that I can inform the police of.  I mean, I doubt anything will be done except give them some kids to look into when these things happen again.”

“What?” Finn shouted. “You can’t do that!  You said yourself you were like us!”

“When I thought you were being insensitive and thoughtless with your words and maybe possibly some slight bullying, again mostly in the name calling department.” Burt said. “However…I can see that you boys have become menaces not only at school but to the whole community. You egged people’s businesses and homes, Finn.  You committed crimes. You committed assaults.  That is beyond name calling and using words inappropriately.”

“But you said you were a ball player.”

“And we didn’t do things like that. I, myself, did something that could be considered vandalism once.  My momma pulled me by the ear to the neighbors and made me wash the mud off the side of her house and then I had to do her chores for three months….for free. Mama and all the other parents nipped it in the bud while we were still five and six and throwing mud and snow. If we did anything like what you just described and even a whisper made it to our coach, we were benched and some kids found themselves off the team for not straightening out their behavior…usually freshmen, upper classmen weren’t that stupid.”

“You can’t do anything.  If you do, I’ll tell.  I’ll tell everyone and they’ll make you sorry you did.” Finn said.

Carole moved to place her hand over her son’s mouth.

“He didn’t mean that Burt.  But you should probably just let this be….I mean it was ages ago.”

“Was it, Carole? Your son stated he was upset he missed the fun this year and then went on to tell us what the fun was from Freshman year…sounds to me like they were at it again this year, too.”

“Yes, but what’s the big fuss.  So someone’s house or business got eggs thrown at it.”

“Goldstein’s butcher’s shop was one that got egged three Halloweens ago. They also broke two windows. It cost Adam two thousand dollars to repair the windows. His family had to rely on donations of food and clothing to make it through the Holiday season because they had already been stretched thin due to illness in the family.  It took a week to wash all of the egg of the store fronts. Not every one of those stores has extra people working who could do that.  Many of the store owners are not as young as they once were.  Time away to wash off egg and such is revenue lost. It is also just plain disrespectful.”

“Well, he wasn’t being disrespectful to you,” Carole said, removing her hand.

“Well actually,” Finn started…but Carole’s hand was back over his mouth.

“The shop was one of those businesses hit…it usually is.  Even the house has been a target before.  Would you like to clean up the next time Carole? I can make sure that happens.” Burt said.

“I am sure Finn had nothing to do with that…and if he was there…which I’m not saying he was…well it’s only because he was with friends and couldn’t really say no to them.” Carole said. “But…maybe next year he won’t go to a Halloween party like that.  I’ll encourage him to like…help Quinn again or go to the Berry’s Halloween bash or something.  Or he can stay home and hand out candy here. Unless Kurt does that.”

Burt made a humming noise and wrote down a few more things, then looked at Kurt. “If Finn stayed here then maybe we could have a booth of some sort at Meadows Elementary during their carnival and trunk-or-treat.  Ellen Faraday asked this last summer and I had meant to look into for this Halloween, but it wasn’t feasible.  We’d be checking and making sure Finn was here, of course. I am sure Carole doesn’t want him arrested, which is apt to happen if he goes out with his usual crowd, since I am turning those names into the cops, like it or not.”

“As long as I get to dress up.” Kurt said.

“Ok...write that down and we’ll see what happens come next October.” Burt said.

Carole was hissing in Finn’s ear as she held her hand over Finn’s mouth until he stopped trying to yell at Burt.  Burt and Kurt just looked at them.  Finally Finn stopped and Carole removed her hand.

Kurt nodded. “That brings us to everything Thanksgiving and Christmas.” Kurt said quietly.

Burt nodded.

#glee fanfic #burt hummel #Kurt Hummel #hummel household

[ao3-hipster-fangirl-trash]

The boy in the hospital bed

Request: Hey! Can you do, like, a high school star wars au in which kylo ren (or ben) goes batshit crazy and shoots up the school? His main target is finn, but finn’s boyfriend poe takes a bullet for him? And poe’s dad kes alongside leia visits poe in the hospital, stuff like that. I really want to make this on my own, but I don’t know how to write :(... Thanks a lot for the help!

warnings: blood, school shooting, injury

Word Count: 1658

Notes: hey guys! guess what, I’m alive! anyway here have a oneshot with Finn and Poe

Pairing: Finn x Poe (Stormpilot)

Finn was in shock. The lady at the hospital who gave him a cup of water told him so. He had been staring at the wall for over an hour with absolutely nothing to say to it. His head was pounding and all he wanted to do was scream, cry, beg someone to tell him what the fuck had happened to Poe, but no one would. No tears would come and no scream made itself present.

There was an ache deep in his chest, burrowing itself there as he sat, waited. The hours ticked by and he could not sleep, could not eat. Everything had gone numb and yet the roaring rage which festered inside of him must have been what caused this in the first place.

He remembered when he first knew Ben was… iffy. It wasn’t that he was really into black, or that he had an affinity for history, it was what he enjoyed learning about in history. He loved stories of the holocaust and sometimes acted… odd when someone opposed it, could shoulder and all that. He loved learning about the civil war and those who opposed Lincoln. The only reason he enjoyed Hamilton was for the ‘scummy’ cast, as he had said.

His cousin, Rey, who happened to be one of Finn’s closest friends, enjoyed avoiding him at all costs. She tried to steer Finn clear of him through any means necessary and had begged her dad not to tell his sister about her orientation, for fear that Ben would find out and use it against her.

So it wasn’t really surprising to anyone that when he found out about Finn and Poe’s relationship he thought it his right to express his disgust as much as possible, including through aggravated assault which ended up with Finn in the hospital for a concussion. That was what had got Ben expelled in the first place.

This though, this was too much.

It was one thing to punch someone, it was one thing to shout and scream until your lungs were burning and your throat was in pieces, but to bring a weapon into a school and fire? That wasn’t right.

He couldn’t quite remember what happened properly, if it had been morning or after lunch. He had gone to school quite tired from staying up trying to finish his Media coursework, but none of it mattered, his Media teacher had been shot in the calf so he doubted she would be collecting it in any time soon.

The cupboard in science was where he had hidden, trying to discern the footsteps outside from the boots which his attacker had seemed to be so fond of. Was it a student or a teacher or him. Eventually he had pulled out his phone and called Poe, begging him to run even if Finn didn’t follow. then, Rey, telling her to never talk to Ben or believe a bad word he said about her, because she was wonderful no matter what. He had called Poe’s father, almost like a father to him, and choked out a goodbye, fully expecting the next shot to end up between his eyes. He texted everyone he knew and could think of, telling them about how much he loved them and wanted to thank them.

Leia, Ben’s mother, telling her it wasn’t her fault he might not make it out, and thanking her for the sandwiches she made him a couple of days ago which she gave to him with a smile and a pat to the cheek.

Jessica, thanking her for every minute she helped him with his physics homework and how much he wished he hadn’t kept her from her family.

Poe, poe a thousand times over telling him that he loved him, the words being clicked on the keyboard as quietly as possible to be said, but not heard. Not by Poe, not by Finn, certainly not by Ben.

Shots had rung out in the hallway, Finn had gulped and hid further in the cabinet. He had to remind himself to cry quietly. He, like the students in his class, didn’t want to die that day. And so he wept silently.

eventually, the hallway became quiet and no more shots or footsteps were heard. He couldn’t hear any breathing, though probably because of how loud his own was. He couldn’t hear any shuffling, or any sign of life. And so he ran.

Finn had bolted from the cupboard and sprinted out of the classroom, down the corridor and down the back staircase, swiftly followed by many of his classmates who’s names he wished he had learnt. If he had to pay homage to them, what would he say about the nameless face?

He ran, oh god he ran. He ran till long after his legs screamed at him to stop, he ran long after his lungs begged for air.

He ran and he ran and he ran, adrenaline coursing through his system and only letting him think about one thing and one thing only: survive.

He had the door in sights, he remembered seeing a glow of light in the relatively dark hallway, the windows shining as the light of an angel would, beckoning him and begging him to run just a little further.

And then the light had been blocked out.

Standing in front of them was Ben, with a lopsided psychopath’s grin, staring down his prey. His eyes were only focusing on Finn as he removed the safety in his gun and raised it. The entire world seemed to slow as the trigger was pulled.

Finn barely remembered hearing the scream from near him, and the thunderous footsteps which came towards him. He remembered seeing a form suddenly hit into him and the dull thunk of a bullet impaling itself into flesh, and then, blood.

It wasn’t his blood, it wasn’t him panting and gasping for breath, it wasn’t him desperately clawing at his boyfriend, no, that was Poe.

Poe’s ragged breaths barely escaped past his lips as he collapsed on the ground. His blood was soaking through his and Finn’s shirt through the would which was bleeding heavily. His eyes had become glassy and Finn could swear that in that moment, his heart stopped.

He didn’t realise that the students behind him had taken down Ben, kicking the gun as far away as possible, he didn’t realise that someone had screamed for a medic, or that the person who screamed was him. He couldn’t remember getting in the ambulance or being given a blanket. All he remembered was sitting in a hospital waiting room chair, staring at a wall for hours.

He had become vaguely aware of a comforting arm slung around his shoulder in around about the 3rd hour. He didn’t dare look up, for fear that if he did he might find himself unable to stop crying, but around the 5th hour, the arm withdrew, and he regretted not seeing who had offered him comfort for 2 hours.

When the person came back, he looked up.

Leia Organa, Ben’s mother, was sitting next to him. She had a small bag of crisps in her hands, and she was trying to open them, but to no avail. They were trembling too much. Instead of looking away, or perhaps screaming at her, or even running, Finn simply took the crisp packet, opened it and handed it back to her. It wasn’t her fault.

Her breath was shaky, of course it was she loved Poe. Though the rugby coach had a nerve as hard as a coffin nail, seeing the goofy boy who always came out of a game with a black eye and smiling, her favourite player shot by her own son, that rattled her.

Finn remembered when Poe had asked why their had been no American Football team, and Leia had simply smiled and said that “it’s for pussies.” Of course, it had been because of the British curriculum, but she never let anyone know that. Now she wished more than anything to tell Poe exactly why they didn’t have an America Football team, for him to laugh, instead of lying lifeless in surgery.

By the time the doctors came out, hands having been freshly bloodied and then washed, Finn was asleep on Leia’s shoulder, and her on his head. The nurse who had offered Finn a water a few hours ago came back and gently shook him awake, upset that she was disturbing what was probably the last good night’s sleep he was ever going to get.

The one thing that the nurse was grateful for was that it wasn’t bad news she was delivering.

She’d never seen anyone run so fast to a hospital room, despite the fact that the patient was completely dead to the world. It was almost as if his life depended on seeing the patient, alive and somewhat well.

Finn had never felt so relieved to see someone unconscious. He watched the gentle rise and fall of Poe’s chest, the small breaths which escaped from him affirming that he was indeed alive, and suddenly it hit him. What if he had died?

All at once, all of the emotions which had been stirring within him burst through, bringing forth hot, heavy tears which streaked down his face, still grimy and unwashed after hours of waiting. Sobs broke through his lips as he watched his boyfriend slumber. He wasn’t still, wasn’t unmoving, god he was alive.

Leia came into the room, instantly engulfing Finn into a hug and letting him weep on her shoulder. Though she got through the death of her husband, though it was her son who had done this, and even though he was going to rot in jail for the rest of his life for this, Leia couldn’t find herself caring for what would happen to him, and instead cried for the boy in the hospital bed.

#stormpilot #finn x poe #finnpoe #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars headcannon #the last jedi #the last jedi fanfiction #the last jedi headcannon #the force awakens #the force awakens fanfiction #the force awakens headcannon #stormpilot fanfiction #strompilot headcannon #finnpoe fanfiction #finnpoe headcannon #star wars au #highschool au #star wars highschool AU

[martian-m]

FEUD < LOVE

Pairing: Cheryl Blossom x Reader

Warning : intense shit Word count: 3,222 A/N: this took me the whole fucking day to finish omagaaaaaaaahd if y’all want this to have a PART 2 just comment or pm me!!!MY REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN YO

[May 5, 2017; 15:40 pm]

Being part of one of Riverdale’s old and leading families was never easy. Especially being the only child who happens to be lesbian and in love with someone who I’m not supposed to associate myself with, even if we are from the same social hierarchy. The Blossom’s and my family, the (Y/L/N)’s never got along. The blood feud between our families began decades ago when my great grandfather back in the 50’s started his fishing business here in Riverdale. It was the starting point of my family’s fortune and influence until the Blossom’s moved to Riverdale as well and started their own business. Long story short, what was supposed to be ‘strictly business ’ became personal. It’s been this way for the longest time, well….. until March 10, 2017.

[March 10, 2017; 16:30 pm]

               It was nearing the end of soccer training with the team as the Captain, when Coach Merly shouted my name,

“(Y/L/N)! GET OVER HERE”

Slightly confused while jogging back to coach as my teammates continued the drills and game I stopped right in front of her still on the edge of the field to not let the spikes of my shoes get dull due to the tartan track.

“Coach, you called for me?”

“Hit the showers, (Y/L/N) you did well today. I’ll handle the rest of the team” Coach Merly said as she patted me on the back.

“aaalright Coach! Thanks! See you tomorrow” taking my shoes off, I walked back to the wooden bench in my drifit socks to slip on my nike slippers while carrying my training bag and water jug, walking out and into the locker room to hit the showers only to be ambushed by the throng of half-naked and a few stark naked river vixen cheerleaders.

“oh my god”, I whispered as I quickly averted my gaze to the ground while the some of the vixens took notice of my presence and started giggling when witnessing my heated face while navigating through the sea of half-naked girls until one tanned girl in a towel stopped in front of me and lifted up my chin with her manicured hand.

Veronica Lodge my best friend and the girlfriend of my childhood friend Betty Cooper, smirking at me at the predicament I’m in, she grabbed my hand and helped me reach another row of lockers where not much Vixens were at. V turned to face me with one hand on her hip,

“Look what the cat dragged in. Really, (Y/L/N) you close your eyes and somewhat panic as if you have never seen a girl naked”  

“well would you like me to stare instead?” sarcasm lacing my voice over the apparent humor V finds in my awkward state.

“oh (Y/N), half of the team want you in between their legs so I don’t think they’d mind if you stare”

“VERONICA YOU’RE NOT HELPING”, covering my face once more due to the blood rushing to my cheeks over the newly found information until another melodic voice laced with annoyance chimed in,

“Drenched in sweat, mud, and grass move away from my locker (Y/L/N)”

There she was, Cheryl Blossom. Red Hair, freckles, amber eyes and her damp hair in only just a towel and flip-flops meaning she just finished showering. Glaring at me as I somewhat zoned out, without a word  I stepped aside from her locker watching her with Veronica beside me as she took her bag and changed somewhere else.

“(Y/N) are you gonna be at Josie’s party later?” said Veronica in breaking the silence as Cheryl left.

“Yeah, I’m going. I’ll just hit the showers V. see you and betty later” I muttered as I stripped out of my sweaty clothes while my thoughts focused on Cheryl. I head to one of the showering stalls and let the cold water hit my skin.

  I was late to the party since I always eat dinner with my parents and as soon as I entered the smell of alcohol and sweaty bodies hit my nose. `Yuck’, I thought to myself. While maneuvering through the crowd of intoxicated party-goers, and trying to find a familiar face amidst the crowd. I finally caught sight of Archie and to my surprise, Jughead conversing with one another  but as soon as I made my way to them I suddenly felt a heavy hand on my shoulder as Reggie made himself known.

“(Y/N)!! I challenge YOU to beer pong cos bro you need to caaaatch up wih us”

Before I could even protest, I was already dragged off to the area for beer pong.

After 30 minutes with Reggie accepting defeat and slumped on the couch appearing to be knocked out, I certainly felt buzzed to an extent but I could still control myself. I was just super hyper and talkative. I proceeded to get myself a beer until Cheryl started her infamous game “7 minutes in heaven”. I just leaned against the wall of the living room watching as the some of the football players and vixens gathered around for the game. I finally saw Veronica and Betty next to each other in the love seat and I regarded them with a mini salute. The game proceeded without a hitch and girls and guys went through the 7 minutes in the closet and coming out with messed up hair or smudged lipstick. Up until one of the Vixens noticed my presence yet again and started to cheer that I should have a turn.

“(Y/N) should be next!”

I immediately declined, “oh no it’s okay I’m fine with my beer.”

As if my words fell on deaf ears all the Jocks and Vixens except for Cheryl, Veronica and Betty started to cheer my name that I’d be next.  Finally relenting, I made one of the Vixens spin the bottle for me as I stayed at my side of the wall watching on who it would land on. It started to slow down and fully stopped facing Veronica. I groaned and chugged my beer as I hear the jocks “ooh’ed” and see some of the Vixens pout, I felt a headache coming on knowing that if I went through with this, it would hurt Betty and if I don’t….the hostess will take V’s place. Looking at Betty, I saw the emotion in her eyes, which made my decision automatic and walked in the middle of the living room looking at Cheryl,

“Let’s go, Cheryl.”

Seems that Reggie woke up from his beercoma and screamed “YEA GET SOME (Y/N)”  and all the other jocks hollered alongside with him. I cast my last glance at B&V as they nod my way in saying their thanks as I head into the closet with the redhead beauty. As soon as the door closed, the silence between me and Cheryl was deafening. Not used to the lack of interaction, I was about to start the conversation until she beat me to it,

“So-“

“Whatever happens between us, stays between us”

Shocked with her words and how it had no malice in them, I stepped closer to see her face clearly. I noticed I was about 3 inches taller than her meaning I was looking down at her trying to figure out what to say next and as soon as a thought popped up in my head when her words shock me once more,

“Just kiss me already, (Y/L/N)”

Maybe I wasn’t thinking straight or my actions were influenced by the alcohol but one thing’s for sure, we stayed in there for more than just 7 minutes and without knowing it, everything from that point on, changed.

 [May 19, 2017; 1:41 am]

It wasn’t a relationship, no. Everyone thought it was, but it wasn’t. We could never be together unless we wanted our families to kill us due to the forbidden relation we have with each other. There were days before where I try to convince myself to walk away from whatever I have with her before it gets too serious. Before I fall for her amber eyes. Before I fall for her contagious laugh. Before I fall for her heartwarming smile. Before I fall for the curve of her body in the moonlight. Before I fall for her sweet kisses. Before she becomes my soft spot. Just thinking about walking away from her now, brings this unbearable pain in my heart.

`Why can’t I leave her?’ I questioned myself over and over again, until I hear this small voice at the back of my mind which I couldn’t admit to myself before,

`You love her.’

I sat at the side of her bed that we were sharing at the moment, shocked with the internal admission of my feelings towards the redhead beauty sleeping next to me.

“I love her” I whispered to myself. I turned to look at the sleeping beauty next to me, she was facing the other side of her room on her back and her red satin sheets only covered the lower half of her body as the moonlight hit her skin, it was as if she was glowing with her red hair sprawled across the pillows. I crept closer to her sleeping form as I started to place multiple kisses on her shoulder while pulling her back to me.

Slowly stirring in her sleep, Cheryl yawns and looks at me with sleepy eyes as her hand reaches for my face, speaking in a hushed tone due to her drowsiness,

“(Y/N), babe, why are you awake? What time is it?”

Slowly trying to get up, I placed my hand around her to pull her closer to me instead.

“Don’t get up, I was just thinking” “What were you thinking of?” “You. Me. Us” Turning her head to face me, I couldn’t see the emotions running in her eyes due to my shadow casting over her. “What about us?” Cheryl asked. Placing her hand on my chest. “I…This may be the wrong time or the right time, I’m not so sure, but I do want to tell you before the moment is gone. I’ve been denying this for the longest time because I was scared. Scared of feeling so much for you, being so close and seeing another side to you but with all the days spent with you I slowly started to accept what my heart and mind knew in secret. It’s that I’m in love with you Cheryl Blossom. I don’t care what my family will think of me or how the world may treat me, I just want you to know that I am deeply and madly in love with you Cheryl, you don’t have to love me back. I just want you to know I will choose you even when things get tough and I will hold your hand through it all.”

After I said all the words that have been dying to come out, I waited for her response. The silence was taunting me and slowly the doubt started to grow with every passing second. `Maybe I shouldn’t have sai-‘ my train of thought was suddenly gone as I felt her soft lips press against mine. “I love you too (Y/N)”

That’s when I saw it, the tears glistening in her eyes with the soft smile on her face.  That’s when I knew I made the right choice.

[August 8, 2017; 20:15 pm]

We were out. Our parents knew, the whole town knew and we were out at Pop’s with `the sad breakfast club’ as to how she still calls the gang. I let it slide since I know she doesn’t mean it. As soon as everyone was leaving we were all outside with me and Archie re-enacting one of the funniest moments during my soccer game against Cornwall. The gang was leaning against my car while Cheryl was just standing in front of my car to get a good angle of watching me and Arch being goofballs.

I looked at Cheryl after the whole shebang and she had the most beautiful smile and melodic laugh, that was until for a split second I saw a black sleek car pass behind us putting it’s tinted window down to show the gun aimed our way. At Cheryl. My Cheryl.

Everything suddenly was moving in slow motion I screamed at them to get down as I pushed Archie to the ground and sprint towards Cheryl with all my might, my heart was beating out of my chest as I got ahold of her arms and twisted her around so that I could shield her. I held her so close to me as I heard the gun shots. `BANG’ `BANG’ `BANG’ I heard the tires screech and the car driving away. I opened my eyes only to see frightened amber ones looking back at me. Still feeling the adrenaline in my ears, I cupped her face and scanned her body, “You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay.” As soon as the adrenaline subsided, I felt this sharp and immense pain on my back. The pain was too much that my knees buckled as I fell. I held on to the fabric of Cheryl’s dress but soon my head was in Veronica’s lap as I felt my back was getting damp, I looked up to see Kevin on the phone screaming, Archie and Betty rushing into Pop’s to get something, Jughead talking to Veronica and finally Cheryl, kneeling next to me holding my hand tightly. I listened in on V and Juggies’ conversation, only to get snippets of what they were saying, which was enough to let me know what’s happening, “(Y/N)……..shot 3 times……..to hospital” It suddenly clicked, I got shot. I’m bleeding. I looked at Cheryl to see that she was crying her eyes out and held my hand to her face as she kept kissing it constantly. I was about to say something to maybe calm her down but Kevin cut in, “The ambulance is 5 minutes away” Looking at me, Kevin kneeled at my feet seeing the sorrow in his eyes as it started to glisten with tears he showed me a watery smile, “heya (Y/N), just keep strong for at least until we get to the hospital yeah? You’ll….you’ll be okay…in better care” He choked on his words as he stood up to face and walk the other way where I couldn’t see him cry. Betty and Archie soon came back with clean white towels alongside with Pop’s on the phone talking to I guess the police. Archie soon came over to me with Jughead and Betty beside him, all with red rimmed eyes, “(Y/N), me and Jughead need to move you to just a bit to  Betty’s lap to stop the bleeding of your back okay?” “go ahead Archiekins” Hearing his nickname and seeing my tired smile, he weakly smiled back with his eyes betraying him and letting the tears fall along his cheeks. As they moved me to Betty’s lap, I had a sharp intake of breathe before my body started to relax again. Archie started to talk again,

“You saved me, (Y/N). You saved us. Now, it’s time for us to save you so don’t let us down alright?” I laughed softly but stopped as the pain doubled. I felt a small but light hand on my shoulder, I saw Veronica looking at me with a mix of emotions. I saw her thighs, it was bathed in my blood alongside with her skirt. “hey V, I’m sorry for your skirt…. I hope the blood comes out” Veronica’s eyes started to water as she shook her head saying, “I don’t care about this skirt or the blood, I just want you to pull through okay?” I nodded feeling somewhat cold and drowsy, I looked at Cheryl whose tears where falling nonstop. I took all the strength I had to grasp her hand a little tighter while looking in her eyes saying, “I love you okay? Please…please stop crying because of me…I’ll make it okay? I promise.” “Promise?”

I brought her hand to my lips and kissed it. “I promise.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, Kevin came rushing back to tell us the ambulance is here. It was all a blur. The medic took me but I still held on Cheryl’s hand throughout the whole ride to the hospital, focusing on the feel of her hand to staying awake.

[Cheryl’s POV] After 3 hours in the hospital and (Y/N) undergoing surgery at the moment, we waited in the Emergency Room Lounge Area. Jughead, Betty, and Kevin headed to the cafeteria to get coffee and something for all of us to eat, so I was left with Archie and Veronica who were both seated next to me with Veronica holding my hand. I was so absorbed with thoughts of (Y/N) that I didn’t notice the coffee being handed to me and my parents and (Y/N)’s parents storming into the Lounge Area. Archie and the gang immediately got up and formed a wall between me and them. The (Y/L/N)’s were first to speak, specifically (Y/N)’s mother.

“Where’s my baby? WHERE’S MY CHILD?”, said by Mrs. (Y/L/N) as she was breaking down with her husband to hold her close to him.

My parents suddenly turned to them, “THIS IS ALL (Y/N)’S FAULT, SHE TRICKED MY DAUGHTER INTO THEIR RELATIONSHIP COULD’VE BEEN KILLED I ALREADY LOST MY SON AND NOW YOU WANT-“

Both parents started to bicker away, a headache was coming on. I was too drained and weak to stand up, let alone talk. Until Archie screamed,

“SHUT THE FUCK UP”

Archie was always kind and somewhat calm during tense situations but his cool completely evaporated at this moment. He has the attention of everyone and continued with a loud voice addressing both parents, “(Y/N) SAVED US. SHE TOOK THREE FUCKING BULLETS TO THE BACK AS SHE USED HERSELF TO SHIELD IT FROM CHERYL. SHE DIDN’T COWER OR HIDE WHEN THE BULLETS WERE SHOT, SHE DASHED RIGHT INFRONT OF IT TO SAVE US. SO HOW DARE YOU ACCUSE (Y/N) THINKING IT’S HER FAULT. I KNOW YOUR FAMILIES HAVE BEEN IN A FEUD FOR AGES BUT GROW THE FUCK UP! ALL CHERYL AND (Y/N) EVER WANTED WAS YOUR ACCEPTANCE BUT YOU’RE ALL TOO MUCH OF A BITC-“ Betty placed her hand on Archie’s shoulder to somewhat calm him down. Archie closed his eyes, nodded, took a deep breath and continued,

“Look your daughters love each other. Mrs. Blossom I know your son died but would you ever want to drive your only living daughter away with your accusations? No. Mrs. (Y/L/N) I know you have this feud for ages, can’t you find it in your heart to just let it go? It’s the 2017 already and your daughter is in undergoing surgery right now, I know both of you love your daughters but all we are asking is to let them be who they are and love who they want.” After Archie’s lecture and rant both parents sat down at the other side of the lounge area in silence, contemplating the words of Archie. I reached out to hold Archie’s hand in sign of `thanks’ and he nodded at me. Now, all we have to do is hope for the best and wait.

#cheryl blossom x reader #cheryl blosson #veronica lodge x reader #veronica lodge #betty cooper x reader #betty cooper #archie andrews #jughead jones #archie andrews x reader #jughead jones x reader #riverdale #gay #homo #lgbtq

[holbeins]

@humanschallenge -  Week 2, Day 2: College/High School AU

“Nissy! Help me stretch, will you?” Mia shouted as she came down the stairs, her high ponytail bouncing with every step. Her sister was occupied in the kitchen with her notebooks, mindmaps, textbooks and laptop spread out all over their kitchen table.

“I’m busy, Mia,” Niska said without lifting her eyes from the screen of her laptop.

“Oh come on, you haven’t taken a single break from writing that philosophy paper since like Wednesday.” It was true; whenever her sister was working on something, she always worked hard. Too hard.

“Yeah, and it’s due tomorrow.”

“Exactly, and how much can you really improve in one night?”

Her sister turned to glare at her through her bangs, then rolled her eyes and sighed in surrender. Mia grinned and leaned against the wall, offering her leg to her sister who grabbed a hold around her ankle, pushing the leg all the way up to her head, toes touching the wall.

“Hester heard from Coach Hawkins that there’ll be scouts in the audience tonight,” she said and held on to her sister’s shoulders, “and not only for the basketball players, but for cheerleaders too. Both she and I could be up for scholarships tonight.”

“Fuck Hester,” Niska muttered.

“Yes, I know she’s the worst but you need to be nice to her –“

“I am nice!”

“- If she does get herself a scholarship, or she’ll notice and she’ll take it out on Leo.”

Niska sighed. “He really needs a new girlfriend.”

“Totally,” she gestured for her sister to let go of her ankle to stretch the other leg. “He should have stuck with Coach Hawkins’s daughter.”

“She was kind of young, though.”

“But obviously mature for her age since she managed to get into college already at sixteen.”

“True. Anyway, I’m not going to go to the game. Like I said, my paper is due tomorrow.”

“But come on, Nis,” Mia whined. “It’s the final game of the season!”

“Philosophy. Paper. Due. Tomorrow. Millican is going to kill me if I hand it in late.”

“You know he adores you, Niska. He’d let you get away with anything.”

“He would not!” She gave another glare as she let go of her sister’s ankle, allowing her to glide down into a perfect front split.

Mia leaned forward and held on to her toes, Niska placed her hands on her back and pressed down and when a realization hit her. “Astrid is playing tonight,” she said and just like she had expected, she felt her sister freeze above her.

“Astrid who?”

“Astrid Schaeffer, the German exchange student from Fred’s class?”

“Oh. Right” she continued pressing her back down, obviously trying to play it cool. “So what?”

“What do you mean ‘so what’?! You totally have a thing for her! Don’t think I don’t notice you checking her out every time she plays.”

“She’s the best player!” Her sister’s voice cracked at ‘player’ and Mia knew for sure that she was blushing.

“Don’t let Hester hear you say that,” she teased.

“Whatever, I’m done helping you,” Niska muttered and left to sit down by her laptop again.

Mia grinned to herself as she stretched her arms towards her toes; her sister could play unbothered all she wanted, Mia knew she’d won again.

                                                           *

“I really shouldn’t be here,” Niska muttered as she watched her sister piggyback ride some tall, blond, broad-shouldered football player, all biceps and quadriceps and whatever-iceps, into the enormous three-story villa that was their oldest brother’s girlfriend’s home. The game had been victorious, 103 to 81, and Hester always threw parties after she won. The guy’s name was Ted or Ed or something like that, Mia had been talking about him non-stop for weeks.

“Well, you are here,” Leo said. “It’ll be good for you to meet some new people, have a bit of fun and make some friends.”

“I have friends,” she snapped.

“Nietzsche and Dr Millican do not count as friends, Niska.”

“Whatever.”

“Tell you what,” he said and reached inside his jacket, plucked out a joint and tucked it behind her ear. “Have one the house. It might even help you with your philosophizing.”

“Leo–“

“No need to thank me, Niska. Just go and have a smoke, relax, chill out, have a nice time, drag a girl ho-“

“Does Hester know you’re dealing?” She interrupted. She was not about to listen to her brother go on about her dragging girls home like he did whenever he was single. It was completely ridiculous, and totally none of his business! Her question succeeded in shutting him up, he didn’t say anything but scraped his foot against the gravel of the driveway which was answer enough. “I’m just saying, this is what broke your last relationship up.“

“I’m very well aware of that, thank you very much.”

“Good. Look, I’m not judging you, I know you need the money. I just remember what a total wreck you were when Mattie dumped you and I don’t want you to ever go through that again.”

“Well, I don’t need a lot more so I only have a few more nights to sell and then I’ll be done, I’ll never need to do it again and Hester won’t need to find out, okay?”

“Okay,” she sighed.

“I appreciate you caring though,” a corner of his mouth tilted upwards a little. “Now go and enjoy yourself.”

“Fine,” she rolled her eyes and began to follow her sister. There had to be at least one quiet spot somewhere in the gigantic backyard where people wouldn’t bother her.

“Hey, Leo,” a familiar voice said behind them.

“Fuck,” she heard her brother whisper.

                                                                *

 “So…” Leo exhaled, looking at anywhere but her, fingers tapping the armrest of the couch. A nervous habit, one Mattie knew very well. He was trying to hide it too, she could tell, otherwise his knee would be bouncing as well. “Your new boyfriend seems nice.”

“Odi? Yeah, he’s the sweetest.”

“How did you guys meet?”

“Tinder, actually. One of the better guys on that otherwise crazy app, and one of the nicer jocks at that football university of his. We met up for coffee and just got along really well so we exchanged numbers and now we’re here.”

“And how long have you been dating now?”

“Four months next week.”

Leo took a swig of his beer. “Well, I’m happy for you, Mattie. Really.”

“Thank you, Leo. It really means a lot.” She put her hand over his wrapped around the brown glass bottle, stopping his tapping and making him look her right in the eye for the first time in months. “But enough about me, what about you? Hester seems tough. At least that’s what mom’s told me about her from practice and stuff.”

“Oh yeah, she is. Definitely tough,” He laughed a little. “She might seem little cold at first but once you get to know her she’s great.”

“Well, I’m glad she’s good to you. Mom says she has a bright future in front of her, so…” she paused, hesitating a little before she continued, “hold on to her.”

He smiled, that sad little half-smile where only one corner of his mouth tilted upwards, and opened his mouth to say something when he was interrupted by her boyfriend approaching with two red solo cups in his hands.

“Sorry I took so long, babe,” he leaned down to peck her lips. “Your brother tried to challenge me to a game of beer pong.”

“Oh my god,” Mattie rolled her eyes and took her drink. “He’s way too cocky for someone who gets drunk after only two beers.”

“Don’t worry, I told him you wouldn’t approve,” he laughed then turned to Leo. “I’m Odi, by the way, Odi Millican.”

“Leo Elster.”

                                                               *

 Scheiße, was this party packed with people. And man, was everyone at this party already fucking hammered? She was only thirty minutes late, Jesus Christus.

 “Hey, Astrid!” Someone yelled. Astrid turned around and saw her coach’s daughter waving her over from where she was sitting on the porch in between two guys, one of which she recognized her team captain’s boyfriend.

“Hey, Mattie,” She said.

“I just wanted to say congratulations to another incredible game, you did amazing.”

“Aw thanks, but it’s all your mom’s work. I wouldn’t be anything without her as my coach, no one on the team would be.” She threw a glance at the black haired guy next to Mattie. “Or without Hester as our captain, of course.”

“You’re the German, right?” He asked. “She talks a lot about you.”

“Astrid Schaeffer,” she said and shook his hand. “All bad I suppose? She yells at me quite a bit.”

“Nah, she likes you. She’s just hard on anyone that could be a threat to her career, and I guess she sees you as one. Like Mattie said, you’re good.”

“Thanks guys,” she said. “Where is she, anyway? Our infamous team captain.”

“Indoors, being a hostess and making sure no one breaks anything. Go inside and she’ll give you something to drink, everything’s free for her team mates tonight.”

Astrid laughed. “Will do!” Hester might act like she’s the only player on the field, but off the field she was more than generous and while drunk she could actually be kind of nice.

And sure enough, the infamous team captain threw her arms around her neck as soon as she walked through the door, ignoring the fact that she spilled half of her glass of red wine on the floor. “Schaeffer!” She squealed. “Oh my goood, what a game! We were fantastic, totally better than ever!”

“Totally” she gave her a few awkward pats on the back. “You were great, Hester.”

“Aw, thank you, sweetie. Here, have a beer! Or, you know what? Take two, I heard there are some pretty cheerleaders outside,” she winked and gestured towards the crate of Heineken, and a second later she had strutted away somewhere into the house without another word before Astrid had any time to accept or decline

                                                          *

 And once you are awake, you shall remain awake eternally.

 Niska smiled as she – for the fourth time – reached the page with her favorite quote from the book she was assigned by her philosophy teacher a month ago.

Genius, she thought. Both Nietzsche and Dr Millican.

 “This seat taken?” Somebody asked, and Niska had to close her eyes not to roll them in annoyance. She had picked this spot by the little stone fire pit because she was sure no one would hang out there for many hours more, when they were worn out from dancing or simply too drunk to remain standing and then she’d head home where she could finish reading. The sitting bench was several meters long too, there was a lot of space, why were they even asking?

“No,” she said without bothering to look up. She’d finish the chapter, then she would head home. Although she tried he best to ignore it, she felt the person sit down next to her, way to close. She narrowed her eyes as she stared into the book, trying to regain her focus. Please don’t talk to me.

“So…” the person began and Niska sighed. Her siblings could call her boring and asocial and whatever, she was going home and she was never going to go to another party for the rest of her life. “You come here often?”

Jesus, what a jerk. Niska slammed her book shut and was prepared to leave without a single word when she saw who it was that had sat down next to her, in a varsity jacket in the schools signature greenish blue colors and in her own signature hairstyle of having half her long brown hair put up into a messy bun, smiling kindly at her. Niska nearly dropped her book. “Oh,” she pushed her glasses up her nose. “Um, not really.”

“Me neither, American house parties are crazy,” the girl said. “I’m Astrid, German exchange student.”

“I know,” Niska blurted before she could stop herself. “I mean– uh, you’re in my brother’s class. Fred?”

“Yeah, I know Fred! He’s cool. He’s your brother?”

“Foster brother.”

“Oh cool, so are you Mia or Niska? He talks about you all quite a bit.”

“I’m Niska. Mia’s the cheer captain.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Niska,” she stretched her hand out, offering her a glass bottle. Her nails were painted black and she wore rings on every other finger. “Beer?”

“No thanks, I don’t drink.”

“But you do smoke?”

“Huh? Oh right…” she had forgotten the joint were still safely tucked behind her ear after her brother put it there. “Occasionally.”

“Is tonight an occasion?”

“Huh?” Niska squeaked. Was it the fire or was it getting really hot? She could feel her glasses gliding.

“How about you and I light that thing up, then we could go somewhere more calm and quiet?” The fire made her eyes glowed like ambers and a mischievous grin spread across her face.

“S-sure,” she stuttered, pushing her glasses up again and she hoped the light of the fire was hiding how deep she was blushing.

#this is like all dialogue but it took such a long time to write wtf #i haven't watched a single highschool drama for like five years #this would be nice to develop into like a miniseries #i wanted to write like 300 things from 300 perspectives #but here's the deal #alsoan au where people vare abourt girls playing sports #mia is a popular cheerleader #niska is a lonely nerd who reads a lot and has no friends #fred's in the school band #mattie and leo study computer science at college #athena is their teacher #odi is a sweet fotball player who loves mattie a lot #astrid is a really good basketball player who came to america to get even better #and also hester is the team captain??? hester + basketball = a combination i guess #i also feel like i need to say that i do not hate hester she's like my 2nd fave #but it makes sense that no one likes her so #AND LAURA IS THEIR COACH like imagine that #karen is the principle #leo sells weed because he needs the money for something i don't know yet #max is a theatre nerd #mia elster #niska elster #laura hawkins #mattie hawkins #odi #astrid schaeffer #nistrid #leo elster #hester

[tipsoctopus]

Opinion: Nobody emerges with any dignity from Man City's controversial 'Allez Allez' video

As a match-going Manchester City supporter I cannot recall first hearing the bastardised version of Liverpool’s ‘Allez Allez Allez’ song. Like most chants it seemed to appear from nowhere and quickly it became established as a firm favourite in the South Stand songbook. Personally I have never sung it – or at least not all of it – and there are two valid reasons for that. Where I sit in the Colin Bell it is not possible to even shout out generic encouragement to the lads without receiving a withering stare, as if you’re up to no good. And there is a line in the song that has never sat right with me.

That is not to say that I didn’t find – and still find – the overall sentiment to the song amusing. A ribbing of Reds once again getting all carried away and believing a major piece of silverware – in this instance the Champions League of last year – was their destiny. Ultimately they ended up empty-handed while Raheem Sterling – a player who the Anfield faithful boo and hate on remorselessly – won a double. What’s not to like about such schadenfreude? Well, there’s that line but we will come to that.

Before we do though perhaps it might be necessary to whizz through a quick potted history of how the song came to be. I’ll skim because most reading this will already be very familiar with what follows.

Antagonism between Liverpool and Manchester City first intensified from a historic dislike of one another grounded in geography when both clubs became embroiled in a fiercely contested title race back in 2013/14 and the fixture schedules demanded that City travelled to Anfield late in the season. The encounter coincided with the 25th anniversary of Hillsborough and City fans were impeccable that day. They respectfully mourned during the minute’s silence. They held aloft a large banner declaring their solidarity with Liverpool.

In return the Eccles supporter’s branch coach was vandalised with stones on route to the ground. Every touch from a City player was loudly booed throughout. A loud cheer went up when Yaya Toure went off injured.

All of which – particularly given the circumstances – sickened me then and sickens me now and the response (to the latter two examples, not the coach attack) from Reds afterwards was interesting to say the least. Man up. Whatever it takes to disrupt a rival and win a game of football is fair game. Right, okay.

At the end of that season Raheem Sterling swapped a red shirt for blue and the reaction from Liverpool the club and its fans made Figo’s move from Barcelona to Real Madrid appear positively harmonious. It’s a hysteria that has only recently abated. It’s a hysteria that indirectly led to a sustained media witch-hunt of a thoroughly decent kid.

Sometime later Sadio Mane was sent off at the Etihad after inadvertently kicking Ederson in the head. Clearly there was no intention behind the incident yet it was still a red card all day long which made Liverpool supporters’ reaction to it – as if it were the greatest injustice ever committed on a football pitch – somewhat bizarre. Ederson meanwhile became a boo-boy to them for that: for having his face smashed to smithereens by boot studs.

Late last season came the most fractious episode of all when Manchester City’s team coach was vandalised so badly outside Anfield ahead of a Champions League quarter final that it required a replacement vehicle to take them home. It was a hostile ‘welcome’ taken too far and it was one too that was planned publicly beforehand with online flyers doing the rounds on social media. The Merseyside police for their part helpfully informed Liverpool fans of a change of route thus – to this writer’s perception – facilitating the attack.

As for Reds they responded to the holy rumpus that followed with mockery and pride. It was their actions, they insisted that helped traumatise the players and bring about a 3-0 victory for the home side that evening. More so they also deemed to take offence in the ensuing fall-out. There is a Manchester Evening News journalist who still today receives all manner of grief for claiming stones were thrown at the bus whereas in fact it was bottles. The offence taken at this strangely equals that of City’s at having their players attacked simply for arriving at a football match.

Regardless, their progress past City pitted them against Roma and then it was onto the final in Ukraine and, as their continental adventure continued, so their ‘Allez Allez Allez’ song that celebrated their conquering of all of Europe got louder and louder to the point where it felt ubiquitous.

So perhaps in hindsight it was inevitable that, when it all fell apart so spectacularly in the final, defeated by Real Madrid and with Mo Salah injured, a corruption of that song by City fans was always going to be penned. The lyrics to City’s version, for point of reference are below.

All the way to Kiev,

To end up in defeat,

Crying in the stands,

And battered in the streets,

Ramos injured Salah,

Victims of it all,

Sterling won the double,

And the Scousers won f*** all,

Allez, Allez, Allez.

On Tuesday evening I was out having a meal with my wife. As someone who writes about football for a living the final week of the season is obviously a hectic time and I had been working pretty much non-stop. On top of this as a City fan the toxicity between my club and its title rivals had begun to consume me, eat me up. I was banned from saying the word ‘Liverpool’ in the house, put it that way.

This then was a symbolic evening: a chance to draw a line under it all and look forward to a summer concentrating on transfers. No-one sends me threats or tries to get me sacked when I write about transfers.

Only halfway through the meal my phone began chirping incessantly as Liverpool fans asked what I made of a leaked video that had come to light, a video that showed Manchester City players singing the corrupted ‘Allez’ song. Immediately I thought this: if what they’re claiming is correct then not only will Reds be justified in feeling extremely aggrieved at this but a lot will be made of it.

My accompanying thought was of Manchester United’s Europa League win in 2016, a game that took place just two days after the Manchester bombing. That night Manchester City fans congratulated United on social media. The club did likewise and furthermore put up a tweet declaring that the city was united. Jesse Lingard meanwhile in the dressing room celebrations orchestrated a song that included the line: why don’t City f*** off home.

The sheer idiocy of this floored me.

At the earliest opportunity I watched the video and even after a few times it is unclear which players are involved, if any at all (incidentally how can an employee of Manchester City have such a rubbish phone?). That is by the by though. A group of people in the employment of City are shown singing a song that solely belongs on the terraces and even that is questionable.

The furore was swift and predominantly concentrated on two lines, the first of which is the one I’ve always had a problem with: victims of it all.

Within the context of the song the disparaging noun is quite obviously referring to Salah’s injury and the ludicrous petition that started up soon after demanding that Sergio Ramos be banned. Indeed it directly follows it in the song – Ramos injured Salah, victims of it all. In a broader sense it evokes Heysel and the sustained failure of Liverpool fans to take any responsibility for what occurred that awful evening. There are also examples given above of Liverpool fans’ propensity to react to any wrongdoing by projecting grievances of their own.

Yet here’s the thing – the only thing that matters really. When Liverpool supporters hear the word ‘victim’ they think of Hillsborough.

And how can they not when you consider the utterly egregious and drawn out fight they were forced to undertake to right the wrongful perceptions put about by the media and establishment concerning that awful day. The manner in which blame was attached to grieving innocent fans is something that will stain society for a long time to come and that was compounded when those that doubted the miscarriage of justice cast them as ‘victims’. Again that’s a stain that we would do well to not forget.

So what we have here then, should we press pause for a moment is a misunderstanding; an unsavoury one certainly but a crossing of messages nonetheless. One side means one thing. The other side interprets it another way.

Yet should we play on, the dynamic of this misunderstanding changes considerably. Because it only takes a momentary dropping of bias and the grasping of common sense to acknowledge that most people – by which I mean supporters of every denomination – are perfectly aware that using the word ‘victim’ is interpreted by Liverpool supporters to be a dog-whistle for Hillsborough.

If that is accepted what is the using of that word – along with the phrase it has a direct lineage to: always the victims, never your fault – for if not to have the ‘best of both worlds’. By this I mean the chance to sing about a trait of a rival fan-base that you feel legitimately warrants criticism or mockery, while additionally knowing deep down that they are receiving it very differently and feeling deeply offended and hurt as a consequence. If so, what kind of sick ‘bonus’ is that?

The second line that has become a serious bone of contention also concerns crossed purposes. The ‘battered in the streets’ line refers to Ukrainian ultras fighting with Liverpool supporters ahead of last season’s final. Again the context is clear from the song: Crying in the stand, battered in the streets.

Reds ,however, insist it is about the horrendous and brutal attack on Sean Cox by a Roma supporter outside Anfield thirteen months ago that resulted in the 53-year-old spending a long period in a neurological unit.

It’s not. It’s really not and City fans have told and told and told Liverpool supporters this with such regularity and vehemence that you suspect there is a contrivance to project extra, intensified offence at something where offence is justified anyway (it is after all still a celebration of their own getting beaten up).

It is hoped that Reds will perhaps question why City supporters insist on correcting this misunderstanding in such numbers. Is it because they are shamed by it being about Sean Cox? If so surely they would not sing the song in the first place (and it is worth remembering at this juncture that it is not a hardcore minority who sing the song but a large and wide demographic). Is it a ‘trick’ then, with Blues laughing away in private after convincing Reds otherwise? Again, a nonsensical suggestion because football fans don’t work in this way. We have learned from Liverpool in 2014 and through a heavily vandalised coach that the rule is whatever it takes to disrupt a rival right?

More so, City have had to take on board their own suffering when a Blue was induced into a coma after being assaulted at Schalke this season. Lastly – and this cannot be put across strongly enough – City supporters are not depraved psychopaths who laugh at individuals in comas.

Still though, as just stated, the line does refer to supporters being beaten up in Ukraine and this brings us back to the video and Manchester City players and staff singing about this. That’s not a good look. Nor is their scoffing at a fellow professional in Mo Salah getting injured.

That ultimately is my take on this regrettable incident. It’s not a good look and Liverpool fans have every right to be incensed by it.

So where does this leave us? It leaves us with a rivalry that was already toxic now worsening to a dangerous level that requires calmer and cleverer heads than my own to step in and subdue the ill-feeling.

As for me, I am looking forward to the summer now more than ever. For a chance to have a pint or three with Liverpool supporting mates without our teams encroaching into the conversation. A chance to be civilised without twenty-two men kicking around a ball making us display the very worst of our nature.

from FootballFanCast.com http://bit.ly/2EjB41z via IFTTT from Blogger http://bit.ly/2JSzbfU via IFTTT

#FootballFanCast.com

[junker-town]

WE WANT BAMA: A complete history of college football’s favorite overly confident meme

Be careful what you wish for.

To be the man, you gotta beat the man. And for much of the last decade, the man has been Nick Saban. His Alabama Crimson Tide are the current gold standard. That leads to three overly confident words being uttered by fans of teams experiencing any modicum of success: “We want Bama.”

I assure you that you likely don’t want Bama. There are about 125 teams in FBS who don’t really have a prayer of matching up with the Tide on talent alone. Alabama’s lost eight games since 2010, and three of them were bowl games against teams with somewhat similar talent. Other than that, it takes a few acts of God like a Johnny Manziel to do the trick.

I asked an FBS head coach once about fans chanting “we want Bama.” His response: “Shooooooot. Nope. [The fans] want ’em ’cause they don’t have to stand up and block ’em.”

1. What started as a sincere challenge devolved into an ironic meme around 2013 or so.

You still see it pop up every time a team overachieves.

We Want Bama https://t.co/S9Jdn3Diaf

— Bryan Park (@BryanParque) October 24, 2017

#WeWantBama https://t.co/rabMQAut78

— Joseph (@JoeytooTALL) October 24, 2017

We want bama #FlyEagelsFly

— Jerm (@dirty_jerm) October 24, 2017

"We Want Bama" might end up having its own 30 for 30 one day

— Spice B (@JassyBravo) October 24, 2017

The fine folks at SEC Shorts put together something to curb the epidemic.

2. The movement started in college football, of course, where plenty of challenges are sincere at the time, and some even deliver.

FAU

.@Lane_Kiffin wants Bama? http://pic.twitter.com/zZ99a1vL8F

— Conference USA (@ConferenceUSA) December 2, 2017

Oregon

Man, 2013 was a long time ago.

These are being sold? How about we just win this weekend, nd figure out where we are at the end...Lol I want Wazzu! http://pic.twitter.com/hKyp0HqkQt

— Tony Washington Jr. (@Dubb_drick) October 18, 2013

Florida State

Honestly, that 2013 FSU team probably would have been able to take Bama. They beat Auburn in the national title that season.

Penn State

Massive victory over Michigan. You already know they want the Tide.

"We want Bama!" http://pic.twitter.com/nuWyJiZX7p

— Onward State (@OnwardState) October 22, 2017

Wisconsin

Don’t we all http://pic.twitter.com/M8MYJiIxZJ

— College GameDay (@CollegeGameDay) November 18, 2017

Washington

Ask ...

Settle down, Washington http://pic.twitter.com/4lnFCfcJ4i

— SB Nation CFB (@SBNationCFB) September 3, 2016

... and keep asking ...

If you say so... http://pic.twitter.com/HNuQNYSwzl

— College GameDay (@CollegeGameDay) November 12, 2016

... and ye shall receive a Playoff ass whooping in which you only cross the 50-yard line twice.

http://pic.twitter.com/1LigWQR5yW

— Nicole Auerbach (@NicoleAuerbach) December 31, 2016

Best College Football Playoff Sign http://pic.twitter.com/8Gpl3Wu73x

— Darren Rovell (@darrenrovell) January 1, 2017

LSU

It’s been six tries since the Tigers got a win against the Tide.

"We Want Bama" #LSU http://pic.twitter.com/NhLno9xoWf

— Jacques Doucet (@JacquesDoucet) October 23, 2016

But they will never log off.

It worked in 2011, though. For a while.

Auburn

Nobody wants Bama quite like Auburn wants Bama. Charles Barkley demonstrates:

The Tigers would use divine intervention when they got Bama in 2013.

Ohio State

Actually got Bama and beat Bama.

Stanford

A since-deleted Vine showed Cardinal OL Joshua Garnett shouting the phrase after winning the 2016 Rose Bowl.

UCF

Derik Hamilton-USA TODAY Sports

Iowa State

Amid a surprise Big 12 run:

Georgia

Vanderbilt

Really?

“WE WANT BAMA. WE WANT BAMA.”

Vanderbilt head coach Derek Mason made it a point to set a deadline for celebrating his program’s 3-0 start and 14-7 win over No. 18 Kansas State. At midnight coaches and players would begin to face down the inevitability that is No. 1 Alabama, headed to Nashville next week for a nationally televised CBS game.

“Man, give me my hour and 45 minutes, please,” Mason said at 10:15 p.m. local time.

Vanderbilt lost by 59 points.

Hoover high school

The school from the show Two-A-Days absolutely wants Bama.

Ok Hoover, that’s awesome. http://pic.twitter.com/MCpbH3THbI

— Kyle Parmley (@KyleParmley) November 25, 2017

3. It’s not a new thing.

The whole thing might be Tennessee’s fault, per a 2002 book about the Vols:

The Volunteers of 1980 were not a good football team, but they had a splendid outing at Auburn. They just plain trampled the Tigers, 42-0, and Tennessee’s delirious fans chanted, “We want ‘Bama, We want ‘Bama.”

As fate would have it, the third Saturday in October came around and so did the Crimson Tide. By halftime, Vols fans were very quiet. Alabama had amassed 238 yards, and Tennessee was stuck at minus-2.

4. But even in college football, plenty of fans who Want Bama don’t actually Want Bama.

Florida

During a 4-8 season? Yeah. Gators want Bama. LOL JK.

Best #Gator sign today, "We want Bama lol jk." #FSUvsUF http://pic.twitter.com/nH3y7uRyyZ

— Steve Johnson (@SteveBoundless) November 30, 2013

Northern Illinois

ESPN

Granted, the Huskies did beat the Tide in 2003.

Washington State

No, WE want Bama. http://pic.twitter.com/PxIbVx2roT

— Eric Winters (@cericwinters) October 2, 2016

North Texas

North Texas!

Western Michigan

WMU made an entire GameDay out of the phrase.

WMU fans are taking "We Want Bama" to inspiring new levels on @CollegeGameDay https://t.co/rNXCOIkVjH http://pic.twitter.com/B9kXnsvX5s

— SB Nation CFB (@SBNationCFB) November 19, 2016

Syracuse

Beat Clemson? Speak your truth.

BYU

This wasn’t 2017 BYU, but 2017 BYU certainly does not want Bama.

Northwestern

I mean, maybe in journalism?

This is happening. #wewaNtbama @NUHighlights @sippinonpurple @morepete http://pic.twitter.com/KxxTSgkhfX

— Kimra (@kimretta) November 15, 2013

Harvard

"We Want Bama...In Chess" #Harvard #GamedaySigns http://pic.twitter.com/DK5jehfACM

— Carson Cunningham (@KOCOCarson) November 22, 2014

Kansas

“@PatSwanson: @edsbs @SBNationCFB Kansas fan with "WE WANT BAMA" sign at KU-WVU http://pic.twitter.com/SVYyRTg2Re”

— Dylan Paul (@Dpaul137) November 16, 2013

Missouri

New blood in the SEC thought they wanted Bama. They were wrong. The Tigers have lost by a combined score of 84-23 in the two meetings since joining the conference. This is more Mizzou’s speed:

Kansas State

The other basketball version:

NYU

Richard Johnson, SB Nation

SUNY Maritime

SUNY Maritime #GameDaySigns. This is what #GameDayNYC has brought us. #CollegeGameDay http://pic.twitter.com/jSs1cIW0YE

— GameDay Critic (@GameDayCritic) September 23, 2017

And even North Korea?

Texas A&M

Still want Bama? These school children learned just what happens when you say you want It.

Ball State

This one’s incredible ...

Ball State wants Bama! Awesome. http://pic.twitter.com/5PIlbcM0wJ

— Isaac (@WorldofIsaac) November 7, 2013

... because Tide fans responded a few days later at GameDay.

At least three "we want Ball State" signs spotted now http://pic.twitter.com/AQuI9M7Xlb

— Chauncey (@ChadEBlanton) November 9, 2013

5. Some fans aren’t quite all in on Wanting Bama just yet.

Penn State, previously

Georgia

Dawgs and Tide might just get a matchup in 2017’s SEC title game.

"That's fake. We want Bama ... Georgia's not afraid of Bama." - @ThomasDavisSDTM #TOL http://pic.twitter.com/n7LSb8I4KM

— SEC Network (@SECNetwork) October 17, 2017

Ohio

This is probably the right idea:

6. Bama takes it all in stride, but still uses it as fuel.

On Washington’s signs:

“I guess you could call it a compliment,” Alabama offensive lineman Bradley Bozeman said. “We’re at the No. 1 spot right now, and everyone wants to knock off the No. 1. So whoever happens to be there, that’s who they make the signs about it.”

“Some people take it as comedy,” Bozeman said. “But I guess when it comes to Washington and other teams at the collegiate level, it’s a little more serious.”

However, one of UW’s We Want Bama signs made it onto Bama’s bulletin board.

Bama fans, meanwhile, just say this kind of thing every few weeks:

@SBNationCFB actually Mizzou you do not..

— Robert Morrow (@RobMorroLiberty) November 30, 2014

7. At this point, Wanting Bama transcends college football.

After winning five preseason games, the Portland Trail Blazers wanted Bama.

FIVE IN A ROW! WE WANT BAMA. http://pic.twitter.com/da7RmU7UzJ

— Trail Blazers (@trailblazers) October 14, 2017

As did the Cleveland Browns during a disappointing 2016.

Hahahahahahahaha http://pic.twitter.com/8sIxKbbcx7

— med-o-lantern (@god_hates_jags) November 20, 2016

A youth league team in Mobile wanted Bama.

WE WANT BAMA Signs for 3rd/4th Grade Youth Champs in Mobile, Alabama. Awesome! RT @Ctomemobile http://pic.twitter.com/XwGTxVUxXU

— Jim Dunaway (@jimdunaway) November 14, 2013

The USMNT wanted Bama at the World Cup.

We want Bama. #USMNT http://pic.twitter.com/jBherbrO6Y

— Korked Bats (@korkedbats) June 17, 2014

And even I am guilty of invoking the coveting of the Tide. My English soccer team of choice (Tottenham Hotspur) Wants Bama, says me.

SPURS WANT BAMA https://t.co/nmEKQBmpey

— Richard Johnson (@RJ_Writes) October 22, 2017

But this goes to show the ubiquitous nature of the Tide’s dominance. At some point, we will all Want Bama.

8. There will be others foolish enough to wish the Tide upon themselves.

Maybe they’ll get ’em, and maybe they won’t. But it never hurts to ask.

Actually, yeah, it usually does.

[junker-town]

WE WANT BAMA: A complete history of college football’s favorite overly confident meme

Be careful what you wish for.

To be the man, you gotta beat the man. And for much of the last decade, the man has been Nick Saban. His Alabama Crimson Tide are the current gold standard. That leads to three overly confident words being uttered by fans of teams experiencing any modicum of success: “We want Bama.”

I assure you that you likely don’t want Bama. There are about 125 teams in FBS who don’t really have a prayer of matching up with the Tide on talent alone. Alabama’s lost eight games since 2010, and three of them were bowl games against teams with somewhat similar talent. Other than that, it takes a few acts of God like a Johnny Manziel to do the trick.

I asked an FBS head coach once about fans chanting “we want Bama.” His response: “Shooooooot. Nope. [The fans] want ’em ’cause they don’t have to stand up and block ’em.”

1. What started as a sincere challenge devolved into an ironic meme around 2013 or so.

You still see it pop up every time a team overachieves.

We Want Bama https://t.co/S9Jdn3Diaf

— Bryan Park (@BryanParque) October 24, 2017

#WeWantBama https://t.co/rabMQAut78

— Joseph (@JoeytooTALL) October 24, 2017

We want bama #FlyEagelsFly

— Jerm (@dirty_jerm) October 24, 2017

"We Want Bama" might end up having its own 30 for 30 one day

— Spice B (@JassyBravo) October 24, 2017

The fine folks at SEC Shorts put together something to curb the epidemic.

2. The movement started in college football, of course, where plenty of challenges are sincere at the time, and some even deliver.

Oregon

Man, 2013 was a long time ago.

These are being sold? How about we just win this weekend, nd figure out where we are at the end...Lol I want Wazzu! http://pic.twitter.com/hKyp0HqkQt

— Tony Washington Jr. (@Dubb_drick) October 18, 2013

Florida State

Honestly, that 2013 FSU team probably would have been able to take Bama. They beat Auburn in the national title that season.

Penn State

Massive victory over Michigan. You already know they want the Tide.

"We want Bama!" http://pic.twitter.com/nuWyJiZX7p

— Onward State (@OnwardState) October 22, 2017

Wisconsin

Don’t we all http://pic.twitter.com/M8MYJiIxZJ

— College GameDay (@CollegeGameDay) November 18, 2017

Washington

Ask ...

Settle down, Washington http://pic.twitter.com/4lnFCfcJ4i

— SB Nation CFB (@SBNationCFB) September 3, 2016

... and keep asking ...

If you say so... http://pic.twitter.com/HNuQNYSwzl

— College GameDay (@CollegeGameDay) November 12, 2016

... and ye shall receive a Playoff ass whooping in which you only cross the 50-yard line twice.

http://pic.twitter.com/1LigWQR5yW

— Nicole Auerbach (@NicoleAuerbach) December 31, 2016

Best College Football Playoff Sign http://pic.twitter.com/8Gpl3Wu73x

— Darren Rovell (@darrenrovell) January 1, 2017

LSU

It’s been six tries since the Tigers got a win against the Tide.

"We Want Bama" #LSU http://pic.twitter.com/NhLno9xoWf

— Jacques Doucet (@JacquesDoucet) October 23, 2016

But they will never log off.

It worked in 2011, though. For a while.

Auburn

Nobody wants Bama quite like Auburn wants Bama. Charles Barkley demonstrates:

The Tigers would use divine intervention when they got Bama in 2013.

Ohio State

Actually got Bama and beat Bama.

Stanford

A since-deleted Vine showed Cardinal OL Joshua Garnett shouting the phrase after winning the 2016 Rose Bowl.

UCF

Derik Hamilton-USA TODAY Sports

Iowa State

Amid a surprise Big 12 run:

Georgia

Vanderbilt

Really?

“WE WANT BAMA. WE WANT BAMA.”

Vanderbilt head coach Derek Mason made it a point to set a deadline for celebrating his program’s 3-0 start and 14-7 win over No. 18 Kansas State. At midnight coaches and players would begin to face down the inevitability that is No. 1 Alabama, headed to Nashville next week for a nationally televised CBS game.

“Man, give me my hour and 45 minutes, please,” Mason said at 10:15 p.m. local time.

Vanderbilt lost by 59 points.

Hoover high school

The school from the show Two-A-Days absolutely wants Bama.

Ok Hoover, that’s awesome. http://pic.twitter.com/MCpbH3THbI

— Kyle Parmley (@KyleParmley) November 25, 2017

3. It’s not a new thing.

The whole thing might be Tennessee’s fault, per a 2002 book about the Vols:

The Volunteers of 1980 were not a good football team, but they had a splendid outing at Auburn. They just plain trampled the Tigers, 42-0, and Tennessee’s delirious fans chanted, “We want ‘Bama, We want ‘Bama.”

As fate would have it, the third Saturday in October came around and so did the Crimson Tide. By halftime, Vols fans were very quiet. Alabama had amassed 238 yards, and Tennessee was stuck at minus-2.

4. But even in college football, plenty of fans who Want Bama don’t actually Want Bama.

Florida

During a 4-8 season? Yeah. Gators want Bama. LOL JK.

Best #Gator sign today, "We want Bama lol jk." #FSUvsUF http://pic.twitter.com/nH3y7uRyyZ

— Steve Johnson (@SteveBoundless) November 30, 2013

Northern Illinois

ESPN

Granted, the Huskies did beat the Tide in 2003.

Washington State

No, WE want Bama. http://pic.twitter.com/PxIbVx2roT

— Eric Winters (@cericwinters) October 2, 2016

North Texas

North Texas!

Western Michigan

WMU made an entire GameDay out of the phrase.

WMU fans are taking "We Want Bama" to inspiring new levels on @CollegeGameDay https://t.co/rNXCOIkVjH http://pic.twitter.com/B9kXnsvX5s

— SB Nation CFB (@SBNationCFB) November 19, 2016

Syracuse

Beat Clemson? Speak your truth.

BYU

This wasn’t 2017 BYU, but 2017 BYU certainly does not want Bama.

Northwestern

I mean, maybe in journalism?

This is happening. #wewaNtbama @NUHighlights @sippinonpurple @morepete http://pic.twitter.com/KxxTSgkhfX

— Kimra (@kimretta) November 15, 2013

Harvard

"We Want Bama...In Chess" #Harvard #GamedaySigns http://pic.twitter.com/DK5jehfACM

— Carson Cunningham (@KOCOCarson) November 22, 2014

Kansas

“@PatSwanson: @edsbs @SBNationCFB Kansas fan with "WE WANT BAMA" sign at KU-WVU http://pic.twitter.com/SVYyRTg2Re”

— Dylan Paul (@Dpaul137) November 16, 2013

Missouri

New blood in the SEC thought they wanted Bama. They were wrong. The Tigers have lost by a combined score of 84-23 in the two meetings since joining the conference. This is more Mizzou’s speed:

Kansas State

The other basketball version:

NYU

Richard Johnson, SB Nation

SUNY Maritime

SUNY Maritime #GameDaySigns. This is what #GameDayNYC has brought us. #CollegeGameDay http://pic.twitter.com/jSs1cIW0YE

— GameDay Critic (@GameDayCritic) September 23, 2017

And even North Korea?

Texas A&M

Still want Bama? These school children learned just what happens when you say you want It.

Ball State

This one’s incredible ...

Ball State wants Bama! Awesome. http://pic.twitter.com/5PIlbcM0wJ

— Isaac (@WorldofIsaac) November 7, 2013

... because Tide fans responded a few days later at GameDay.

At least three "we want Ball State" signs spotted now http://pic.twitter.com/AQuI9M7Xlb

— Chauncey (@ChadEBlanton) November 9, 2013

5. Some fans aren’t quite all in on Wanting Bama just yet.

Penn State, previously

Georgia

Dawgs and Tide might just get a matchup in 2017’s SEC title game.

"That's fake. We want Bama ... Georgia's not afraid of Bama." - @ThomasDavisSDTM #TOL http://pic.twitter.com/n7LSb8I4KM

— SEC Network (@SECNetwork) October 17, 2017

Ohio

This is probably the right idea:

6. Bama takes it all in stride, but still uses it as fuel.

On Washington’s signs:

“I guess you could call it a compliment,” Alabama offensive lineman Bradley Bozeman said. “We’re at the No. 1 spot right now, and everyone wants to knock off the No. 1. So whoever happens to be there, that’s who they make the signs about it.”

“Some people take it as comedy,” Bozeman said. “But I guess when it comes to Washington and other teams at the collegiate level, it’s a little more serious.”

However, one of UW’s We Want Bama signs made it onto Bama’s bulletin board.

Bama fans, meanwhile, just say this kind of thing every few weeks:

@SBNationCFB actually Mizzou you do not..

— Robert Morrow (@RobMorroLiberty) November 30, 2014

7. At this point, Wanting Bama transcends college football.

After winning five preseason games, the Portland Trail Blazers wanted Bama.

FIVE IN A ROW! WE WANT BAMA. http://pic.twitter.com/da7RmU7UzJ

— Trail Blazers (@trailblazers) October 14, 2017

As did the Cleveland Browns during a disappointing 2016.

Hahahahahahahaha http://pic.twitter.com/8sIxKbbcx7

— med-o-lantern (@god_hates_jags) November 20, 2016

A youth league team in Mobile wanted Bama.

WE WANT BAMA Signs for 3rd/4th Grade Youth Champs in Mobile, Alabama. Awesome! RT @Ctomemobile http://pic.twitter.com/XwGTxVUxXU

— Jim Dunaway (@jimdunaway) November 14, 2013

The USMNT wanted Bama at the World Cup.

We want Bama. #USMNT http://pic.twitter.com/jBherbrO6Y

— Korked Bats (@korkedbats) June 17, 2014

And even I am guilty of invoking the coveting of the Tide. My English soccer team of choice (Tottenham Hotspur) Wants Bama, says me.

SPURS WANT BAMA https://t.co/nmEKQBmpey

— Richard Johnson (@RJ_Writes) October 22, 2017

But this goes to show the ubiquitous nature of the Tide’s dominance. At some point, we will all Want Bama.

8. There will be others foolish enough to wish the Tide upon themselves.

Maybe they’ll get ’em, and maybe they won’t. But it never hurts to ask.

Actually, yeah, it usually does.

[junker-town]

WE WANT BAMA: A complete history of college football’s favorite overly confident meme

Be careful what you wish for.

To be the man, you gotta beat the man. And for much of the last decade, the man has been Nick Saban. His Alabama Crimson Tide are the current gold standard. That leads to three overly confident words being uttered by fans of teams experiencing any modicum of success: “We want Bama.”

I assure you that you likely don’t want Bama. There are about 125 teams in FBS who don’t really have a prayer of matching up with the Tide on talent alone. Alabama’s lost eight games since 2010, and three of them were bowl games against teams with somewhat similar talent. Other than that, it takes a few acts of God like a Johnny Manziel to do the trick.

I asked an FBS head coach once about fans chanting “we want Bama.” His response: “Shooooooot. Nope. [The fans] want ’em ’cause they don’t have to stand up and block ’em.”

1. What started as a sincere challenge devolved into an ironic meme around 2013 or so.

You still see it pop up every time a team overachieves.

We Want Bama https://t.co/S9Jdn3Diaf

— Bryan Park (@BryanParque) October 24, 2017

#WeWantBama https://t.co/rabMQAut78

— Joseph (@JoeytooTALL) October 24, 2017

We want bama #FlyEagelsFly

— Jerm (@dirty_jerm) October 24, 2017

"We Want Bama" might end up having its own 30 for 30 one day

— Spice B (@JassyBravo) October 24, 2017

The fine folks at SEC Shorts put together something to curb the epidemic.

2. The movement started in college football, of course, where plenty of challenges are sincere at the time, and some even deliver.

Oregon

Man, 2013 was a long time ago.

These are being sold? How about we just win this weekend, nd figure out where we are at the end...Lol I want Wazzu! http://pic.twitter.com/hKyp0HqkQt

— Tony Washington Jr. (@Dubb_drick) October 18, 2013

Florida State

Honestly, that 2013 FSU team probably would have been able to take Bama. They beat Auburn in the national title that season.

Penn State

Massive victory over Michigan. You already know they want the Tide.

"We want Bama!" http://pic.twitter.com/nuWyJiZX7p

— Onward State (@OnwardState) October 22, 2017

Wisconsin

Don’t we all http://pic.twitter.com/M8MYJiIxZJ

— College GameDay (@CollegeGameDay) November 18, 2017

Washington

Ask ...

Settle down, Washington http://pic.twitter.com/4lnFCfcJ4i

— SB Nation CFB (@SBNationCFB) September 3, 2016

... and keep asking ...

If you say so... http://pic.twitter.com/HNuQNYSwzl

— College GameDay (@CollegeGameDay) November 12, 2016

... and ye shall receive a Playoff ass whooping in which you only cross the 50-yard line twice.

http://pic.twitter.com/1LigWQR5yW

— Nicole Auerbach (@NicoleAuerbach) December 31, 2016

Best College Football Playoff Sign http://pic.twitter.com/8Gpl3Wu73x

— Darren Rovell (@darrenrovell) January 1, 2017

LSU

It’s been six tries since the Tigers got a win against the Tide.

"We Want Bama" #LSU http://pic.twitter.com/NhLno9xoWf

— Jacques Doucet (@JacquesDoucet) October 23, 2016

But they will never log off.

It worked in 2011, though. For a while.

Auburn

The Tigers would use divine intervention when they got Bama in 2013.

Ohio State

Actually got Bama and beat Bama.

Stanford

A since-deleted Vine showed Cardinal OL Joshua Garnett shouting the phrase after winning the 2016 Rose Bowl.

UCF

Derik Hamilton-USA TODAY Sports

Iowa State

Amid a surprise Big 12 run:

Georgia

Vanderbilt

Really?

“WE WANT BAMA. WE WANT BAMA.”

Vanderbilt head coach Derek Mason made it a point to set a deadline for celebrating his program’s 3-0 start and 14-7 win over No. 18 Kansas State. At midnight coaches and players would begin to face down the inevitability that is No. 1 Alabama, headed to Nashville next week for a nationally televised CBS game.

“Man, give me my hour and 45 minutes, please,” Mason said at 10:15 p.m. local time.

Vanderbilt lost by 59 points.

3. It’s not a new thing.

The whole thing might be Tennessee’s fault, per a 2002 book about the Vols:

The Volunteers of 1980 were not a good football team, but they had a splendid outing at Auburn. They just plain trampled the Tigers, 42-0, and Tennessee’s delirious fans chanted, “We want ‘Bama, We want ‘Bama.”

As fate would have it, the third Saturday in October came around and so did the Crimson Tide. By halftime, Vols fans were very quiet. Alabama had amassed 238 yards, and Tennessee was stuck at minus-2.

4. But even in college football, plenty of fans who Want Bama don’t actually Want Bama.

Florida

During a 4-8 season? Yeah. Gators want Bama. LOL JK.

Best #Gator sign today, "We want Bama lol jk." #FSUvsUF http://pic.twitter.com/nH3y7uRyyZ

— Steve Johnson (@SteveBoundless) November 30, 2013

Northern Illinois

ESPN

Granted, the Huskies did beat the Tide in 2003.

Washington State

No, WE want Bama. http://pic.twitter.com/PxIbVx2roT

— Eric Winters (@cericwinters) October 2, 2016

North Texas

North Texas!

Western Michigan

WMU made an entire GameDay out of the phrase.

WMU fans are taking "We Want Bama" to inspiring new levels on @CollegeGameDay https://t.co/rNXCOIkVjH http://pic.twitter.com/B9kXnsvX5s

— SB Nation CFB (@SBNationCFB) November 19, 2016

Syracuse

Beat Clemson? Speak your truth.

BYU

This wasn’t 2017 BYU, but 2017 BYU certainly does not want Bama.

Northwestern

I mean, maybe in journalism?

This is happening. #wewaNtbama @NUHighlights @sippinonpurple @morepete http://pic.twitter.com/KxxTSgkhfX

— Kimra (@kimretta) November 15, 2013

Harvard

"We Want Bama...In Chess" #Harvard #GamedaySigns http://pic.twitter.com/DK5jehfACM

— Carson Cunningham (@KOCOCarson) November 22, 2014

Kansas

“@PatSwanson: @edsbs @SBNationCFB Kansas fan with "WE WANT BAMA" sign at KU-WVU http://pic.twitter.com/SVYyRTg2Re”

— Dylan Paul (@Dpaul137) November 16, 2013

Missouri

New blood in the SEC thought they wanted Bama. They were wrong. The Tigers have lost by a combined score of 84-23 in the two meetings since joining the conference. This is more Mizzou’s speed:

Kansas State

The other basketball version:

NYU

Richard Johnson, SB Nation

SUNY Maritime

SUNY Maritime #GameDaySigns. This is what #GameDayNYC has brought us. #CollegeGameDay http://pic.twitter.com/jSs1cIW0YE

— GameDay Critic (@GameDayCritic) September 23, 2017

And even North Korea?

Texas A&M

Still want Bama? These school children learned just what happens when you say you want It.

Ball State

This one’s incredible ...

Ball State wants Bama! Awesome. http://pic.twitter.com/5PIlbcM0wJ

— Isaac (@WorldofIsaac) November 7, 2013

... because Tide fans responded a few days later at GameDay.

At least three "we want Ball State" signs spotted now http://pic.twitter.com/AQuI9M7Xlb

— Chauncey (@ChadEBlanton) November 9, 2013

5. Some fans aren’t quite all in on Wanting Bama just yet.

Penn State, previously

Georgia

Dawgs and Tide might just get a matchup in 2017’s SEC title game.

"That's fake. We want Bama ... Georgia's not afraid of Bama." - @ThomasDavisSDTM #TOL http://pic.twitter.com/n7LSb8I4KM

— SEC Network (@SECNetwork) October 17, 2017

Ohio

This is probably the right idea:

6. Bama takes it all in stride, but still uses it as fuel.

On Washington’s signs:

“I guess you could call it a compliment,” Alabama offensive lineman Bradley Bozeman said. “We’re at the No. 1 spot right now, and everyone wants to knock off the No. 1. So whoever happens to be there, that’s who they make the signs about it.”

“Some people take it as comedy,” Bozeman said. “But I guess when it comes to Washington and other teams at the collegiate level, it’s a little more serious.”

However, one of UW’s We Want Bama signs made it onto Bama’s bulletin board.

Bama fans, meanwhile, just say this kind of thing every few weeks:

@SBNationCFB actually Mizzou you do not..

— Robert Morrow (@RobMorroLiberty) November 30, 2014

7. At this point, Wanting Bama transcends college football.

After winning five preseason games, the Portland Trail Blazers wanted Bama.

FIVE IN A ROW! WE WANT BAMA. http://pic.twitter.com/da7RmU7UzJ

— Trail Blazers (@trailblazers) October 14, 2017

As did the Cleveland Browns during a disappointing 2016.

Hahahahahahahaha http://pic.twitter.com/8sIxKbbcx7

— med-o-lantern (@god_hates_jags) November 20, 2016

A youth league team in Mobile wanted Bama.

WE WANT BAMA Signs for 3rd/4th Grade Youth Champs in Mobile, Alabama. Awesome! RT @Ctomemobile http://pic.twitter.com/XwGTxVUxXU

— Jim Dunaway (@jimdunaway) November 14, 2013

The USMNT wanted Bama at the World Cup.

We want Bama. #USMNT http://pic.twitter.com/jBherbrO6Y

— Korked Bats (@korkedbats) June 17, 2014

And even I am guilty of invoking the coveting of the Tide. My English soccer team of choice (Tottenham Hotspur) Wants Bama, says me.

SPURS WANT BAMA https://t.co/nmEKQBmpey

— Richard Johnson (@RJ_Writes) October 22, 2017

But this goes to show the ubiquitous nature of the Tide’s dominance. At some point, we will all Want Bama.

8. There will be others foolish enough to wish the Tide upon themselves.

Maybe they’ll get ’em, and maybe they won’t. But it never hurts to ask.

Actually, yeah, it usually does.