#gonna tell all my friends and celebrate it like i just scored a winning touchdown or smth | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

toto2229 · 3 years

Text

The Murder of Crystal Cove

TW: Death, Murder, cursing

Welcome to Crystal Cove the most boring place in America that is until Emma, the most popular girl in school is murdered. You must choose who to trust and who to question, remember your choices impact how the story plays out.

Y/N Pov

The day started like no other, you got up and did everything you usually do. Went downstairs to go to your car where your best friend Hansol was waiting for you. “Took you long enough” he joked as you unlocked your car so he could get in. Going to school Hansol usually chose the music as was the agreement that you got to choose on the way back. Once you got to school, he went off to find Seungkwan while you went to look for Steph and Rae. “Hey there you are, you know if you go to sleep earlier you won’t be late,” Steph said.

“It's not like school has actually started,” you said, and its true school didn’t start for another few minutes its Friday anyways so who cared if you miss the first period besides your theatre friends. “You know if you miss class Soonyoung would blow your phone up, literally” Rae joked, which was also true your new best friend would chew your ear off if you missed class. The bell rang indicating for everyone to go inside and you saw Emma the lead cheerleader waving people in. “Rae there you are we have cheer so hurry up and get changed the pep rally is today and we want to be prepared,” she said. Rae ran off after giving Steph a kiss on the cheek as you saw Emma roll her eyes, it wasn’t that she disapproved it was more like she was impatient, at least that's what you thought. You and Stephanie split off to go to separate classrooms.

As you got into the theatre room it was bustling as you took your normal seat next to Soonyoung. “Hey Y/N, you ready for the pep rally today?” he said looking nervously at you. “I guess, I mean I kind of have to be there to take pictures and do interviews.” you said flatly, you knew exactly what would happen the band would play the school song, and everyone would cry about how Mingyu will bring the team to victory like they do every year. “Oh yeah.” and he opened his binder as the second bell rang. You thought it was weird how he was acting, it was very unlike him to do that. Normally Soonyoung would talk your ear off about his weekend plans with his friend Seokmin or ask if Hansol had weed so they could smoke before the pep rally or literally anything else as he had a knack for never running out of things to say. But the blond just stayed quiet unless he had to talk about the lesson that the teacher gave. Even during the theatre exercises, he stayed mostly quiet, ‘Strange’, you thought as the class ended. Soonyoung immediately grabbed his bag and said, “See you later Y/N.” and rushed out of the class before you could ask if something was wrong.

You walked out of class and Hansol walked behind you to go to your right and Steph to your left. “Man are you ready for this article I'm gonna write after the game, Crystal Cove Phantoms win another game.” Hansol said as Seungkwan walked up to him, hugged him, and said, “Of course we’re gonna win why else do you think I'm gonna be on the field for.” “To look hot” Hansol quickly said back as they did a quick kiss so Seungkwan can go to choir while you, Hansol, and Steph can go to Journalism. As you all walked into the room you still were worried about Soonyoung, why was he acting so strange and why would he only ask about the pep rally. ‘Maybe he has something going on at home’ you thought as you took your normal seat and pulled out your sticker-covered laptop and waited for class to start.

~~~~~~~

The last period of the day snuck up on you as you got ready pulling out your school press pass and camera to go to the pep rally. The intercom came on and said, “All students with a ticket to the pep rally start heading to gym one.” you gathered your stuff and headed towards the door flashing your pass at the teacher to let you through. As you walked into the gym you saw that it was plastered in Crystal Cove Phantom banners and other posters in the signature blue and yellow. Steph walked up to you and asked, “What do you want floor, right bleachers or left?” you thought about it and as you were about to give your answer Hansol walked up and said “Left there's better light” as he put down his bag next to you and headed in the direction he chose. “He only wants to be there because he wants to look at Seungkwan's ass” Steph joked as she headed towards the right knowing that you usually like taking floor pictures.

You steadied your camera as the band started with the school song and the banner being put into position so the football players can burst through. You started taking pictures, Soonyoung started the drummers in a beat, as the crowd cheered you saw that he had a weird look on his face. Suddenly the football players started coming through the banner Soonyoung picked up a mallet and rang the gong on his left, and he ran around the gym waving his arms. He even tried to trip Mingyu the football captain as the vice principal ran around trying to stop him. He tore out wires in the PA, trashed some posters, and threw the mascot on the ground. Just as he was about to push over a speaker the schools security guards grabbed him and pinned him on the floor as he was yelling “STOP THE GAME!!!! YOU CAN’T PLAY!!! THE PHANTOM IS OUT THERE!!!” everyone was dead silent just watching as he was dragged out of the gym kicking and screaming.

When the doors closed the gym erupted into chatter as everyone was questioning what just happened you looked over at Hansol who was laughing his ass off and then at Steph who just shrugged her shoulders. ‘What in the world just happened’ you thought, ‘maybe he just smoked too much with Hansol before the pep rally.' You looked back at the principal who picked up the microphone, "Alright everyone settle down, whatever just happened don’t worry about it, the game will continue as planned. Jihoon, can you fill in please, and let's have a fantastic game.” he said as a boy with black hair put down his baton and picked up Soonyoungs drumsticks starting the beat that the drummers had left off. ‘He must be the drum major’ you noted in your notebook to talk to him later maybe he knew why Soonyoung went off the rails.

The pep rally went on as normal everyone hyped up the football players and cried about how they would win. As the pep rally came to an end you knew you had to interview people about their experience but all you could think about was getting to the drum major, ‘Jihoon’ you remembered. As people were exiting the gym you walked up to him and tapped his shoulder “Hi I'm Y/N can I ask you a few questions?” Jihoon looked at your press pass and sighed, “The pep rally was boring as usual and even worse I had to fill in for King Kong.” he looked rather annoyed so you decided another approach, “if I give you a ride to the game will you answer my questions?” He looked at you and contemplated for a bit, bending down to put a cover on the drums he was using. “Look the marching band has to ride the bus to the game, but if you give me a ride home then I'll think about it” you smiled and shook his hand excitedly “Thank you so much here give me your number so I can pick you up.” you said as you let go of his hand and shoved your phone into it. He typed his number and name so you could text him after the game.

“What was that about?” Steph asked as she walked up behind you. “A front-page story for next week's paper, after I ask Soonyoung to use it” you beamed up at her. Hansol walked up to you, and you looked at his eyes “did you and Soonyoung smoke before the pep rally?” “No, I couldn’t skip last period teacher in the hall made me get a tardy slip.” he answered. You knew he was telling the truth because his eyes were normal. “We gotta get to the game guys and I'm sure if you ask him, he'll say yes,” Steph said in desperation to get out of the gym. All three of you started heading to your car so you can go to the game for the first win of the season.

~~~~~~~

The crowd cheered as Mingyu scored another touchdown, you took a picture of him celebrating and turned your camera to get a shot of the cheerleaders. You looked up over your camera at Emma who rolled her eyes as threw down her pom poms and stormed past you. You watched her walk to the parking lot and turned back to the game thinking nothing of it. Taking more pictures of the crowd and players as the game went on. As the game came to a close with the Phantoms winning everyone got ready to leave the game, “Hey Y/N have you seen Emma?” Rae asked coming up to you while looking around. “Yeah, she went to the parking lot, she seemed upset for some reason.” you responded as she sighed and started jogging towards the direction that you told her.

You took your phone out and you texted Jihoon, ‘meet me Infront of the school in 20 mins’ you put it back as you headed towards your car to meet up with Steph, Hansol, and Seungkwan to give them all rides home. ‘Man, I hope Jihoon won't mind sitting in the middle of the back seat’ you thought as you exited the stadium to the parking lot. You took your camera and scrolled through the pictures while walking on the sidewalk until you bump into the back of someone. You look up at the crowd in front of you as you wondered what was going on you pushed through the crowd. You grabbed onto Steph's shirt and asked, “What’s going on?” She turned to look at you, “I think someone died but I can't see who” she said searching for who it is. Hansol and Seungkwan pushed through from the front holding hands to get to you and Steph, “Steph!! it's Rae she's being questioned by police.” Seungkwan said. She started pushing to the front with you still hanging on to her shirt you dig for your keys in your pockets and toss Hansol them. He nodded knowing what you meant, and you looked forward as you got to the front, past the police tape you saw Rae with a blanket wrapped around her talking to an officer with tears in her eyes.

“Rae, what happened? Are you hurt? What's going on?” Steph asked quickly. “It's Emma I came out here to ask her why she was upset and I just..just...” and she burst into hiccups and sobs not wanting to finish her sentence. You look over at a boy standing by the sheriff being questioned, he was tall and had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders as well. He had black hair with blue streaks and spoke calmly. ‘I wonder who that is' you took out your notebook and noted to question him later. Steph looked at you as you put your notes away and said, “I'm gonna take Rae home in her car can you follow, please?” you looked towards your car that was turned on waiting with Seungkwan and Hansol inside. “Sure, I just have to drop Jihoon off at his house. But I'll come to get you after,” you said before you went over and opened your car door as police started dispersing the crowd. You took off to the front of the school and Hansol got into the back with his boyfriend. Jihoon came out and you flashed your lights indicating where you were.

He got into the car and closed the door, “what's with the police?” he asked looking in the car mirror. You shook your head and said sadly, “Emma was murdered.” He just nodded his head, looked out the window, and stayed quiet until he told you where to turn. As soon as he went inside his house you raced to Rae's house to find out what happened. When you got there you, Hansol, and Seungkwan went inside and knocked on the door. Rae's mom let all of you in. Steph came out of the bedroom with an empty glass and a wet shirt. “Is she ok?” Hansol whispered. “She'll be ok but it’s crazy that it even happened I mean who would do that.” Steph answered as she walked to the kitchen to fill the glass with water. “Did she say anything?” you questioned. “Yeah, she said she was trying to find Emma because Y/N said she was upset but when she got there, she saw Emma on the ground and a phantom-” “Phantom hold on, are you telling me what Soonyoung was screaming about was true?” Seungkwan interrupted Steph as she was talking. That is what Soonyoung was saying, and he also said to stop the game which everyone knew wasn’t going to happen. “But what I find weird is that she said when the phantom saw her, he disappeared, like literally disappeared. And she said Minghao showed up right after.” she continued. ‘That’s who that other guy was’ you knew who he was, the weird artist who lived across town. Nobody really has ever talked to him since he moved to town last year, and even at that all he ever does is go to the library.

“I think you guys should go home, I'm gonna stay here for the weekend just to be sure Rae is ok.” she said as she walked into the room and closed the door. You, Hansol, and Seungkwan looked at each other and headed back to your car. After driving home Hansol and Seungkwan went to Hansol's house next door. You walked inside hearing your parents talking to someone, you went to the dining room and saw the back of a guy with brown hair turn around, “Josh is that you?” you smiled as you gave the older boy a hug. “Hey, haven't seen you since I graduated.” he replied as he took a step back to see your face, “I just wanted to check and make sure you're ok, considering.” you didn’t look surprised at all with your parents being head of the Crystal Cove news. “Yeah, I'm fine.” you replied. “I think you should go and get some sleep honey.” your mom said with a small smile.

“But Josh-” you started to say, but Joshua interrupted, “I'm still gonna be here tomorrow, besides you know I go to the college like fifteen minutes from here.” you felt too upset to argue so you just hugged him goodbye, said goodnight to your parents, and headed upstairs for bed. After doing your nightly routine you pulled your notebook out of your bag and reviewed you notes that you have been taking and circled the important parts. Soonyoung had tried to stop the game at the pep rally, but no one knows why, maybe he knew about what was going to happen and about the phantom. And then there was Minghao who mysteriously appeared right after the phantom disappeared, maybe he was the phantom. Tomorrow after work you only had time to question one, as you wanted to go comfort Rae as well. Who should it be?

Congratulations you got through the beginning, now it up to you who to question. Should it be your funny and talkative theatre friend Soonyoung or the weird and mysterious artist Minghao?

Question Soonyoung Question Minghao

27 notes · View notes

khoicesbyk · 4 years

Text

My Two First Loves.

Homecoming Part 1: The Big Game.

A/N: I’ve read a multitude of books. And this one is becoming one that I thoroughly enjoy. So; Talley Ho! *in my Sherlock Holmes voice*

Rated: Mature. Contains suggestive content and strong language. You know? The usual from me. 😁 | Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters. | Characters: Isaiah Harris (LI) and Kailah Price (MC) | All Characters: names (except MC) are property of Pixelberry. | All Characters are 18+.| Current Word Count: 2,195 words.

It was warm late August day and Isaiah Harris was shocked. He just stood there staring at Kailah Price like she had lost her mind.

“Run this by me again; you want me to do WHAT?!”, he asks her wanting to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. “You heard me, Isaiah. You should run for Homecoming King. Since I’m running Homecoming Queen; you should run too.”, she told him.

“I’m sorry. Have you met me?! I’m not a Homecoming King, Kailah!”, he told her. She rolled her eyes at him; before she said, “you won’t know what you are until you try, Isaiah. You might even like it!”

He shook his head and said to her, “you’re insane! Utterly insane! What in the hell makes you think anybody would ever vote for me?”

“You mean besides your charm and good looks? You’ll be running with me! Especially since Jaylen is running with Brandi.”, she told him.

“Of course golden boy is running! Because why the fuck not?”, he sneered.

Even though he groaned and grimaced at thought of it; he couldn’t tell her no and as he started to think it over; he realized that he did like the idea of running with her and sticking it to Jaylen. “Alright fine! I’ll do it. I’ll run with you.”, he told her.

“Perfect! You won’t regret it! I promise you!”, she said as she threw her arms around his neck in a quick hug.

“I’m starting to regret it already.”, he teased her.

“Come on; let’s get to class before Mrs. Hartman chews my ass out again.”, he said to her as they walked to class.

He enjoyed her and her company; even though he’d never admit it out loud. She was the only friend he had that year. For the past 3 years or so; life hadn’t exactly been fair to him. Stints in juvie hardened him to the world. Losing his dad sophomore year; sent him into a tailspin that not even he thought he’d get out of. He was considered a lone wolf. And that was the way he liked it.

Until he met her that one fateful day. Until she smiled at him. Until he saw those pretty brown eyes of hers. Kailah Price was like a breath of fresh air to him. Her smile could light up a room. But; at this moment it lit up his whole life. He always felt alone in a cold world; until she came along and changed that. He felt relaxed around her. He didn’t have to hide or keep his lone wolf act. She didn’t judge him. She let him be him.

After weeks of her campaigning for the both of them and him just smiling and nodding while she campaigned; it was Homecoming weekend. But before the dance and the announcement of who would be King and Queen; it was time for the Homecoming game against Parkvale High!

“You ready for the game, today?”, Kailah asked him. “I guess so.”, he shrugged. Although he wanted to be QB; Isaiah had to settle for being on defense. Why? Because that position was taken by Jaylen. The one he called “golden boy”.

“You’ll do great, Isaiah. I have faith in you.”, she tells him trying to comfort him. He gave her a small half smile and said, “thanks Kailah. You’re the only person on this planet that ever does. I better get to practice before I don’t even get a chance to warm the bench. I’ll see you later.”

And with that he was gone. There was something about him that mesmerized her. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was; but she knew it was something. He was fascinating to her. Whenever they hung out or were near each other; her heart skipped a few beats. Whenever he kinda smiled at her; the heat in her body went up 12 degrees.

The only person that made her feel like that is Jaylen Jennings. But; she couldn’t have him. Why? Because he’s dating her best friend Brandi Lawrence. She’s secretly madly in love with Jaylen and has been since they were in kindergarten. And now that he’s all grown up and sexy her love for him has grown tenfold.

And he’s quite the catch. At 6’1 and chocolate he was everything she wanted a man to be. Driven, intelligent, athletic, focused and any other positive adjective that she could think of. He was destined to follow in his dad’s footsteps; by eventually joining The Marines.

He was perfect! But! He was hers. Hers being Brandi’s. Even though Kailah wanted him more than she wanted air; he was taken. And there was nothing her broken heart could do about it.

Enter Isaiah Harris. This oh so dark and mysterious yet; sexy as all get out young man. His bright smile (when she actually got him to smile) as well as smoldering brown eyes mesmerized her. Like Jaylen; Isaiah was tall too. 6’4 to be exact. Also like Jaylen; Isaiah was chocolate too.

According to what he told her; he has tattoos. But; he only shows the ones that he got in honor of his grandmother and his dad. A rose wrapped in a scroll on the inside of his left forearm for her. And a sword wrapped in a scroll on the inside of his right forearm for him.

He’s the bad boy she always dreamed about; but never thought would’ve existed in real life.

And now; it was time for the big game; and she was happy to see that Jaylen was starting. But; she was internally cheering for Isaiah. She wanted him to win so badly. After a tough practice; she wanted him to have a victory. And thankfully for her; he was about to get one.

As the game wound down to the final 2 minutes; Eastridge and Parkvale were tied 21-21 with Parkvale having the ball on the 5 yard line. It was up to Eastridge’s defense to make a stop and/or score.

And they got it, when Isaiah was able to not only force a fumble but; he returned it for the game winning touchdown. While the defense, most of the offense and the school celebrated Isaiah and his accomplishment. Jaylen, Coach Pierce and the remaining members of the offense looked on completely unimpressed.

Kailah was just as ecstatic about Isaiah winning the game. She couldn’t wait to tell him, how proud she was of him. While Brandi and the rest of the Cheer Squad also looked on. They were just as unimpressed by Isaiah as Jaylen and the others were. When he jogged over to her; he saw the excitement and adoration in her eyes.

“Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Ohmygod! You did it! You’re all sweaty and completely smelly! But! You! Did! It! I’m so damn proud of you Isaiah!”, she exclaimed as she hugged him.

That hug took his breath away. No one had ever told him that they were proud of him. Not until she said it.

“It was just a touchdown Kailah. It was really nothing special!”, he replied trying to play it off.

“What do you mean it was nothing?! That touchdown gave the school the biggest win of the season! All thanks to you!”, she said while beaming with pride at him.

“You don’t give up on people do you?”, he asked with a chuckle. “Nope! Not even a little bit! Come on! The coach is waiting.”, she told him before they walked to where the rest of the team and the cheer squad were gathered around the coach. She thought the coach would congratulate him on winning the game but; that was not to be.

“Great win team! All of you did really well out there. But! Only one of you gets the game winning ball. And that person is…Jaylen!”, Coach Pierce said with pride. “Without your leadership and drive; we would’ve never gotten this far! Congrats my boy! You earned this game ball!”

When Jaylen accepted the ball; Brandi threw her arms around him and said, “I’m so proud of you baby! I knew you would do it! That’s why you’re the star of the team!” It was like a slap in the face to Isaiah.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”, he said. A mix of anger, disgust and disappointment written on his face.

“You got a problem with my decision Harris?!”, the coach snapped at him.

He scoffed at him and says, “yeah I got a problem! A big fucking problem! I bust my ass to get the touchdown that wins the game and I don’t get so much as a thank you!”

Kailah watches as the coach gets all up in his face and he yells at him, “I’m not about to waste my time thanking someone who doesn’t even deserve to be on the team! You scored one measly touchdown and you think you’re an NFL star! You’re lucky I even let you play tonight!” Isaiah was livid and had every right to be.

“You know what?! Fuck this shit! I’m fucking gone!”, he said before storming off towards the locker room.

Kailah was both heartbroken and furious; not only with coach but with everyone else as well. Especially Jaylen and Brandi.

When she turned to go after him; Brandi called out to her, “Kai don’t even bother going after him! He’s just mad that my baby right here; is a better player than he’ll ever be.” She wanted to slap Brandi for saying something so cruel. But instead she decided to focus on Isaiah as she ran after him.

“Isaiah! Isaiah wait up! Wait for me!”, she called out to him just before he made to the tunnel.

When he turned around; she saw the anger, the frustration and especially the heartbreak blazing in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”, she told him.

“Apparently what I deserve doesn’t fucking matter! Because I’m not golden boy over there! I don’t even know why I bothered getting on the field in the first place. Nothing I fucking do is good enough! No matter what it is!”, he sneered.

She could hear the pain in his voice. He was hurt.

“You’re wrong. What you do does matter. Because it matters to me. You earned that game ball! Fair and square! You won that game! And it’s not fair that you got treated that way!”, she said to him with tears of fury starting to blur her eyes.

“You’re something else, you know that? You’re the only person that cares about me or how I feel.”, he told her as his voice faintly cracked.

“Look I’m gonna go; before I break something.”, he told her.

“Will I see you tomorrow night?”, she asked.

“Maybe. Because I’m not sure that I want to celebrate anything. Not after what just happened.”, he said to her before disappearing into the tunnel. She shook her head, angrily wiped her tears and took a deep breath.

That’s when Jaylen jogged up to her. “There you are! We’re going to Finn’s to celebrate. You coming?”

“No. I’m not in the mood to celebrate. I’m just gonna go home.”, she said to him. Jaylen knew something was wrong.

“What is it? What’s wrong? Why are you acting like this?”, he asked to her.

“You wanna know what’s wrong? Everything I just watched is what’s wrong! The way y’all were acting is what’s wrong!”, she snapped at him.

“That whole thing with the game ball? That’s why you’re upset?” He asks.

“Yes! If you must know. That’s exactly why I’m upset! Isaiah earned that ball! Fair and square! He won the game Jay! Not you! And instead of you telling coach that; you took that moment from him! And if isn’t bad enough; all of you stood there and let coach tear into him for protesting!”, she replies before turning away from him; to take a deep breath to calm her shaking from anger.

“Kai I don’t make the decisions! If that’s what coach decides; that what he’s decides. You know this.”, he tries to explain to her.

“That’s bullshit and you know it Jay! If that was any other player you would’ve made sure; that coach Pierce gave them that ball! No questions asked! But because it was Isaiah; you decided not to do that!”, she said to him. At this point; she even more upset than she was before.

“Kai—“, was all he managed to get out before she cut him off, “and another thing; the only other reason why you got that ball; is because Coach is extremely close to your dad! And we both know how your dad feels about Isaiah!”

Jaylen was stunned. He had never seen Kailah so upset before. Much less upset at him. “Look, I’m gonna go. Enjoy celebrating at Finn’s with everyone. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”, she says to him before she walks off.

Although Jaylen was her whole heart; she couldn’t stop thinking about Isaiah. She wanted to hold him but she wasn’t sure that she’d ever be able to. Not after that night.

@txemrn @lucy-268 @choicesficwriterscreations

Stay tuned for Part 2!

😘

#choices #choices fanfiction #pixelberry #choices stories you play #fanfic #khoicesbyk #my first two loves #choices mftl #mftl #pb mftl

6 notes · View notes

theycallmebeccawrites · 5 years

Text

Chris & Ellie Bonus: Father’s Day 2019

With Tumblr holding my original writing blog @beccaheartschrisevans captive (aka flagged as explicit), I have made a secondary writing blog and may end up closing the other all together. In the meantime, I am reposting all of my stories on my new blog.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Ellie Spencer (OFC)

Rating: G

Warnings: n/a

Summary: Chris celebrating his first father’s day

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

Chris & Ellie Bonus Stories Masterlist | Chris & Ellie Masterlist

Father's Day 2019

June 16, 2019

Super Bowl LI was playing on the TV as Chris sat on the couch with four-month-old Tommy in his arms. Neither was really watching the game, instead Chris was watching his son pull on Dodger's ears while the dog sat next to them on the couch perfectly content. It was no secret that the dog loved the baby and had since they'd brought Tommy home from the hospital.

As Chris watched the dog and baby interact, he couldn't help but think back to this time last year. He and Ellie had been trying to get pregnant for over a year and a half without any success and had agreed to visit a specialist once they'd gotten back to Oregon after spending the summer in Massachusetts with his family. As luck would have it, however, a romantic getaway in England following the Avengers: Infinity War premiere had resulted in a positive pregnancy test about six weeks later.

In fact, Ellie had taken the pregnancy test on his 37th birthday and had told him that night once they'd returned to the small, basement apartment in his mom's house. They'd both cried happy tears and had decided to share the news with their family two days later, on Father's Day. They'd shared the news via a video call with her family while in the living room of his mom's house with his family. There had been lots of shouts of joy, lots of tears and hugs galore.

They'd spent the summer in Massachusetts as planned and then had spent the fall in LA while he'd filmed a movie. They'd traveled home to Oregon once a month to meet with her doctor and had returned to the state for good the week after Thanksgiving. (They'd celebrated the holiday in LA and his family had traveled to California to spend the week with them, taking their annual Disney trip a few weeks early and at Disneyland.) Christmas and New Year’s had been spent with Ellie's family in Oregon and they'd counted down the days until Robert Thomas's arrival.

Tommy had arrived a week and a half early on February 3 aka Super Bowl Sunday. He'd been the perfect baby, too. Chris had spent every day of those first two months with Tommy and Ellie, enjoying every second of being a dad, even on those nights where they hadn't gotten much sleep.

Then the mid of April had come and he'd had to leave for his final Marvel press tour. Ellie, Tommy and her family had traveled to LA with him and they'd all attended the movie premiere with him while Tommy had stayed with Ellie's aunt and uncle. Then Ellie and Tommy had traveled to Boston with Chris's family while Chris had started the international leg of the press tour.

They'd had nightly video chats while he'd been gone and had reunited three weeks later in New York City before he'd joined them at his mom's house for the summer. They'd been here for a month now and Chris had been taking the early morning shifts with Tommy so Ellie could go back to sleep after feeding the baby.

It was these quiet mornings with his baby boy that Chris loved the most. It gave them time to bond before they went upstairs to spend time with the rest of the family where Tommy was happily passed around and showered with attention. What they did during the time together depended on Tommy's mood. On mornings like this, where he was awake and giggly, they watched Patriots' football. Whereas, on the mornings where he was grumpy or still sleepy, Chris would cuddle him and either sing, read books or talk to him. During the last few weeks, they'd spent more time watching football than anything else. Or rather, Chris listened to football while watching Tommy interact with Dodger.

Wanting to document this special Father's Day, Chris set Tommy on the couch so he was propped up between the back of the couch and Dodger's torso. Grabbing his phone, Chris snapped a photo of his two boys, seconds before Dodger jumped up and began to lick Tommy's face. The baby looked startled at first, but then let out a delighted shriek which soon at Dodger barking happily.

"Shh," Chris said, chuckling as he darted his eyes over to the partially opened bedroom door. "You're gonna wake up mommy." He picked up Tommy and settled the baby back in his lap. Then, using one hand, he composed a tweet and shared the photo with his Twitter followers.

"Watching Patriots football with my little guy and our best friend on my first #FathersDay #FuturePatsFan"

He posted the tweet and then put his phone aside. He kissed Tommy's head and breathed in the unique baby smell. Sometimes, he couldn't wait for his little boy to get bigger, but he knew that someday he'd miss him being this little.

A loud "TOUCHDOWN!" startled both father and son and Chris grabbed his cell phone, knowing that it was the tone for Ellie sending him a text:

That last hashtag should say #Future12thMan

Chris chuckled at his wife's reference to the fans of the Seattle Seahawks and then said, loudly, "I thought you were sleeping."

Ellie appeared in the doorway to the bedroom, a second later, and was greeted by a squeal from Tommy. The baby began to squirm in Chris's arms as Ellie made her way over to the couch with the aging Daisy following her. The nine-year-old dog settled herself into her dog bed and ignored them all as she went back to sleep.

After passing the baby to his momma, Chris let his eyes wander over to where Daisy slept. He and Ellie had gone back and forth about whether or not to bring her with them this summer, but they'd ultimately decided they couldn't be without her; especially since she was already towards the end of her life. Other than aging joints, she was pretty healthy and he hoped she stayed that way a bit longer.

Of their pets, only their cat Mickey had stayed back in Oregon, as he did every summer. They'd adopted Mickey while they'd been in Georgia back in 2017 and the cat had not enjoyed the flight back to LA that fall and he had especially hated the drive to Oregon when they'd moved there. So rather than deal with a pissed off cat, they'd left him home with Ellie's cousin who was housesitting for them.

"Are you really watching this whole game?" Ellie asked, drawing Chris's attention back to the TV. "You're really going to make him suffer through three quarters of heartbreak?"

Chris glanced at her and could tell she was just busting his chops as she fought back a smile. If there was anyone who could appreciate the way the Patriots had come back to beat the Falcons, it was his wife. Nevertheless, he couldn't help but respond to her goading, "You have to watch the whole game. You can't get the full thrill of the win without it. It would be an 'that's awesome' as opposed to a 'holy sh-'" His voice trailed off as his eyes dropped down to the baby who was smiling up at him.

"Nice save," Ellie said, smoothing her hand over Tommy's hair. "As much as it pains me to do so, this was probably the most exciting football game I've watched."

"It's a Father's Day miracle!" Chris exclaimed, throwing his fist in the air. His excitement was contagious as Tommy began to shriek happily and Dodger began to bark. Reaching over, Chris tickled the baby's feet, making his squeals turn to giggles. Meanwhile, Dodger barked happily, his tail thumping against the couch cushions.

"You three are quite the comedy act," Ellie said, shaking her head. Looking down at the baby, she asked, "Should we go get daddy's present?" He babbled back to her. "Alright, we'll be right back."

Ellie carried Tommy back to the bedroom with Dodger following, the dog obviously not wanting to let his best friend out of his sight. Chris turned his attention to the TV and cringed as Tom Brady was sacked. He watched Atlanta score another touchdown before Ellie and Tommy returned to the room.

His wife had changed Tommy into a white onesie that had a bearded face printed on it and "I have a fuzzy daddy" written on it. Chris threw his head back and laughed.

"That's perfect," he told Ellie.

"We thought it was perfect, too," Ellie agreed. She then handed Chris a wrapped present and a card. "But here's your real present."

Going with tradition, Chris opened the card first and felt tears pool in his eyes as he looked at the homemade card. Ellie had turned a footprint and handprint of Tommy's onto a piece of paper and had turned it into a superhero by adding a face and hands. She had then printed "You are my superhero" on the card.

"This is amazing," he said, sniffing. Leaning over, he gave Ellie a kiss and then leaned down and kissed the top of Tommy's head. Settling back, Chris tore off the wrapping paper and opened a narrow box, pulling out a picture frame. Each of the six photo slots had a picture in it. There was a close up of Tommy sleeping, one of Tommy dressed in his Patriots’ onesie with eye black on his cheeks, a photo of Tommy in his Red Sox gear with Wally the Green Monster, one of Tommy wearing a Captain America costume that one of Ellie's aunts had made him, a photo of the three of them on the day Tommy was born, and a photo of Chris sleeping with Tommy asleep on his chest.

Chris didn't realize he was crying until he felt Ellie drying his face with her thumb.

"I love it," he said, looking at his wife through blurry eyes. "You've made this my best Father's Day ever." They both laughed at his lame joke. He moved so he could wrap his arm around her and then gave her a quick kiss on the lips.

Despite having a full day of family activities ahead of them, the three of them watched the rest of the football game. It was only after the final touchdown, however, that Chris and Ellie realized that Tommy had fallen asleep at some point.

"Told you he's going to be a future 12th man," Ellie teased.

Chris just rolled his eyes.

Want to find me off tumblr? I’m @beccatheycallme on twitter. I also post my stories on AO3.

My tag list is always open, just let me know if you’d like to be added!

#chris evans #theycallmebecca #beccaheartschrisevans #theycallmebeccawrites #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fiction #chris and ellie series #chris and ellie #chris evans x ofc #chris evans x original female character

16 notes · View notes

katie-dub · 6 years

Text

#FrostJones

Ice dancing duo Killian Jones and Elsa Frost barely made the cut for the PyeongChang Olympics after a disaster at the World Championships that left them without a coach. Enter Emma 'The Saviour' Swan, their new coach who might just help to add a little magic to their routines.

AKA a Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir AU, with a twist.

The wonderful @welllpthisishappening Master of the Sports AU told me that she had a prompt for a Virtue and Moir AU and I had the thought "shame they're just great friends". Somehow this idea was born and Laura and @distant-rose told me to "WRITE THE THING" and here we are. Thanks ladies for enabling me and giving this a once over. All mistakes are very much mine.

#FrostJones

A Song of Fire and Ice: The bumpy road to PyeongChang for America's ice dancing duo Frost and Jones

Eyebrows were raised when fiery Killian Jones, who missed out on the Sochi Olympics due to the infamous attack that left his former partner (both on and off the ice) dead and his hand gravely wounded, teamed up with solo figure skating champion Elsa Frost, whose icy characterisation and flawless technique earned her the title of Ice Queen. The unlikely pairing narrowly qualified for the Olympics after a disastrous performance at the 2017 World Championships left them with barely enough points to make the cut. That event also saw them part ways with their coach, Leroy "Grumpy" Short, following a rumoured face off between him and Jones. With less than a year to go to get medal-ready, in stepped Emma "The Saviour" Swan, who has a reputation for rejuvenating the careers of failing figure skaters. Here's hoping The Saviour has worked her magic on Team USA's ice dance duo, who are merely hoping for a place on the podium, while Virtue and Moir...

Killian flung aside the newspaper, scowling. He really didn't need to read more about the bloody Canadians who were certain to beat them to the gold, not least of all in a piece that was meant to be about his "road to the Olympics".

Elsa raised her eyebrows at him. "Why are you even reading that, Jones? Given that Regina had to issue actual threats to get you to talk to that journalist I'd have thought you'd want to avoid it."

He sighed and dragged his hand across his face wearily. "Yeah, I bloody well should have.”

He had known the piece would be like this, that it would hurt to read, but the events leading up to the last Olympics caused a wound that wouldn't heal. (Or hadn't, until her, The Saviour, his saviour.)

It was their final rehearsal before they at last took to the rink to compete for Team GB. They had knocked it out of the park, scored a touchdown and a variety of other sporting metaphors. He spun Milah around in delight, kissing her passionately. He'd always known they were contenders, but now he was sure that gold medal was theirs. Tessa and Scott couldn't touch their chemistry - they were so beloved that it seemed the whole world was #Team Millian, regardless of nationality.

Then came the blow to his head that sent him crashing to the ice and his whole world along with it. When he awoke everything had changed: Milah was dead. His left hand damaged. Gold, their former coach and her ex, walked free without so much as a slap on the wrist from the Olympics Committee.

So he ran away, defected to the states, determined to get one over on the country that failed him.

And now that time had come.

Well, tomorrow it would, for now he had to rest.

They were minutes away from taking to the ice and Killian was nervous. They weren't even the favourite of the American teams in the running for bloody bronze. The idea of anyone but the Canadian or French winning silver and gold had not even been considered, it was so utterly unlikely.

But they could do it, Killian knew they could.

The world may have been skeptical at the announcement of their partnership, but dancing with Elsa had seemed entirely logical. Her detached demeanour (“Frost by name, frosty by nature” was a joke she'd heard one too many times) suited his need for an entirely platonic relationship. And her looks running in stark contrast to Milah’s didn't hurt either. He was to help Elsa to put her heart into sometimes sterile style, she could improve his precision and refine his technique.

The latter of these worked at least, they could twizzle in perfect unison and they had the required pattern down. But it was the free dance that could earn them the big points and that's where they'd faltered. His spirit had been poisoned such that it was hard to convey deepest devotion when every spin on the ice bore a reminder: love brought nothing but endless torment.

But then came Swan.

It was some kind of romantic ice dancing cliché: falling for your coach - second only to falling for your actual partner. And yet, here he was.

She was just so easy to love, or so he thought. She challenged him and made him better - made both of them better. Elsa’s relentless perfectionism had eased under the coaching of a true friend. She could often be heard reciting the mantra Emma taught her “let it go, let it go.” And as for him? She had helped him to heal and move on. Not that she would ever know.

They'd been working with Emma for weeks and the improvement was significant. It was enough to make Killian wonder if she actually did have magic powers. They were stood in their final pose, having just completed their dance for Emma. They had skated well and he could see the tiny flicker of pride in Elsa’s eyes that he was sure was reflected in his own - they had nailed it for sure.

“Seriously? That's what you call romance?” He turned to her in disbelief.

“What more do you want from us?”

“You have to use your emotion - in a good way. You look like.. like a man who's pissed at his robot for not loving him.”

Elsa huffed, quietly indignant, but outwardly calm as ever while he raged. “Well perhaps you should show us how it's done, almighty Saviour.” He gave her a mocking bow, eyes flashing at her in challenge.

“Please. You couldn't handle it.” His eyebrows shot up in shock, he'd never seen this teasing side to her before.

“Perhaps you're the one who couldn't handle it?”

She rolled her eyes but skated over to them. She shooed Elsa to the side and guided him to resume the final pose with her wrapped in his arms. She gazed up at him with adoration and it felt incredible. His heart beat faster and his breath quickened - he might have cursed his body for its clichéd reaction to the feel of the warmth of a beautiful woman's body, if he weren't so busy getting lost in her eyes. His own eyes softened and he smiled despite himself, leaning in when she licked her lips. “And that's how it's done,” she said, pushing back from him and turning to Elsa. “Killian’s got a romantic soul, flash him a look of love and he will follow your lead. Now, try that dance again.” Emma skated back to the side and Killian touched his fingers to his lips, startled at his close he'd come to kissing his coach. Sure, he'd always kind of fancied her - when she wasn't yelling at him - but this?

“Come on, Jones!” Elsa called, “enough with the yearning looks, it's time to skate.” She dropped her voice low so that only he could hear. “Something tells me that you'll never look at me the way you look at her.” His jaw dropped open, he wanted to fling a sarcastic remark back at her, but he stopped himself, unwilling to let Swan hear. (And besides, a small voice inside whispered that she was right.)

They'd gone from strength to strength since that day in the rink as they had each grown closer and closer to Emma and now all there was left to do was dance.

Their names were called. Emma reached up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek and whisper “good luck” in his ear. His nerves were soothed and he breathed more easily. He glowed with the joy of that simple kiss. He could do it, he would do it - would do anything - for her.

Killian felt light and joyful as he glided around the ice. The music seeped into his pores, guiding his movements. Elsa and he danced like a dream, every twist, turn and twizzle was in perfect harmony.

Their dance reached its crashing crescendo and they hit their final pose, looking for all the world like a pair of lovers.

The music died and he pulled Elsa into a fierce hug, lifting her off the ice with joy. “We both know I'm not the blonde you've been thinking of,” Elsa whispered into his ear with a giggle. He was so happy he couldn't even been bothered to chastise her.

They won. Of course they won. And no one was talking about their record-breaking score, all anyone could mention was the romance, their chemistry.

He'd turned off his twitter notifications after he received approximately a million mentions in a matter of minutes.

"OMGGGGGGGG @TheKillianJones & @ElsaFrost01 must be in LOVE! #FrostJones"

"I can lip read, she definitely said I love you!!!! @TheKillianJones @ElsaFrost01 #FrostJones #CanYouFeelTheLoveTonight #IShipIt”

“I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE DAMN MEDALS THEY ARE IN LOVE AND MY HEART IS GONNA EXPLODE!!! 😍💖😍💖😍 @TheKillianJones @ElsaFrost01 #FrostJones”

He had to laugh at how far from the truth they were.

And now he was sitting off to one side at their impromptu gold medal celebration taking it all in - most of the rest of the USA figure skating team were there drinking bubbly wine and cheering drunkenly although Neal and Tamara were conspicuous by their absence. He shook his head at their pettiness. Sure their unexpected win had robbed the pair of their own chance at a medal, but he suspected the no show was more a “fuck you” to their former coach, Emma. (He couldn't deny being glad of that, remembering the hint of tears that had glistened in her eyes at revealing how she'd discovered that Neal had been cheating on her with his partner. Not to mention how she'd been dragged into a possible doping scandal when she found herself blamed for a failed test - he still wasn't certain how Neal had weaseled his way out of those allegations. Tonight was Emma's night as much as theirs and she didn't need that dickhead bringing her down.)

“Hey.” Emma bumped his shoulder affectionately, sitting down next to him. “Beware of lurking gold medallists!”

He smiled wryly at her. “Just thinking, love.”

“Lurking and brooding - a classic combination.” He laughed. “Shouldn't you be celebrating?”

He raised his plastic cup to show off his rum then placed it down beside him. “Don't worry, I'm celebrating, I was just thinking how we couldn't have done this without you.”

She blushed, and twisted her mouth into a small smile that he found utterly adorable. “You guys have the talent,” she said with a shrug, “I just helped you to polish your routine.”

“You did more than that, I wasn't sure if I'd ever skate like that again after, well, you know.” He gestured vaguely and she nodded. She did know. He'd told her all about what happened, back in that night when they'd traded tragic backstories and came within inches of kissing. He still remembered how beautiful she'd looked, could feel her breath on his lips and the bitter disappointment welling in his soul. He gathered his courage, spurred on by the high of his win and the rum in his belly. “That is, until I met you.”

Her eyes widened and she looked deeply touched. She leaned closer to him, his breath caught in his chest and he watched as her eyes flicked down to his mouth. He wet his lips instinctively and moved closer to her, breathing in her air and waiting. Waiting.

She took a deep breath and gently touched her lips to his. Soft, that was all he could think. Her lips were so soft. His heart felt full. It was the barest of touches and it had him completely undone.

A part of him wondered if he was having that effect on her - hoped we was. Then she moaned against his lips and deepened the kiss and all thoughts were lost.

He pulled back from her the barest amount when the need for air got too strong, keeping her as close as possible, wanting to stay in this affectionate bubble forever. “That was -” he breathed.

“The reason a thousand hearts broke around the world. At least.” He looked up to see Elsa smirking at the pair of them. “Mine included, according to the interwebs. Don't look so worried, Jones, I think I'll live.” Her last comment was said with a wink before she disappeared back to the crowd of merrymakers.

“We better get back to all the partying and celebrating you and stuff,” Emma said, but her forehead was rested against hers and she showed no sign of moving.

“Do we have to? I'm sure we could just -”

She pushed him backwards with a smile. “Be patient.” He was about to protest, but she silenced him with one last soft kiss. “We can have our own private celebration later.”

“Promise?” He intended to sound flirty, but he sounded far too sincere.

“Yes,” she said, rolling her eyes and dragged him back to the party.

As he held her in his arms later, her hair spilling out over his bare chest, which she was using as a pillow, he wondered how he ever got so lucky. Four years ago he had nothing, but now he had everything.

#cs ff #captain swan #cs fanfics #cs au #cs olympics #katie dub writes

88 notes · View notes

emmabirb8 · 7 years

Text

Got tagged by @parrotfishteeth! (Sorry for taking so long on getting this posted btw. ^^;)

1ST RULE: Tag 9 people you would like to know better.

2ND RULE: BOLD the statements that are true.

APPEARANCE: I am 5'7" or taller I wear glasses I have at least one tattoo I have at least one piercing I have blonde hair (Sorta?? Technically my “official” hair color is called “dirty blonde” bc it’s a pretty dark blonde, almost brown.) I have brown eyes I have short hair My abs are at least somewhat defined I have or have had braces

PERSONALITY: I love meeting new people (I wouldn’t necessarily say I love it ‘cause I get nervous, but meeting new people can be fun.) People tell me that I’m funny (Sometimes.) Helping others with their problems is a big priority for me I enjoy physical challenges I enjoy mental challenges I’m playfully rude with people I know well (Mostly just with my siblings.) I started saying something ironically and now I can’t stop saying it There is something I would change about my personality

ABILITY: I can sing well I can play an instrument (I used to play the violin when I was in elementary school - been planning to re-teach it to myself, so I guess it counts.) I can do over 30 pushups without stopping I’m a fast runner I can draw well (I think?? lol) I have a good memory (Somewhat... I’m really good with some things and not so good with others, so it’s a mixed bag most the time.) I’m good at doing math in my head I can hold my breath underwater for over a minute I have beaten at least 2 people in arm wrestling (Back in fourth grade my class decided to have an arm wrestling match during inside recess. I beat everyone up until the last kid who I was set to arm wrestle, but the bell rang and we had to quit. :( I’ll never know if I would have beaten him or not. I’d definitely lose if we had a re-match nowadays ‘cause he has MUSCLES lol.) I know how to cook at least 3 meals from scratch I know how to throw a proper punch

HOBBIES: I enjoy playing sports I’m on a sports team at my school or somewhere else I’m in an orchestra or choir at my school or somewhere else I have learned a new song in the past week I work out at least once a week I’ve gone for runs at least once a week in the warmer months I have drawn something in the past month I enjoy writing (Not as much as drawing or reading others’ writing, but yes.) FANDOMS ARE MY #1 PASSION I do or have done martial arts (Haha, believe it or not, my brother and I actually used to take karate lessons.)

EXPERIENCES: I have had my first kiss I have had alcohol (Only a very small amount.) I have scored the winning goal in a sports game (You’re all gonna think I’m lying ‘cause I hate sports, but I actually made a winning touchdown in flag football once. My gym teacher was SO EXCITED for me that day!) I have watched an entire season of a TV show in one sitting I have been at an overnight event (Like a sleepover? If so, then yeah.) I have been in a taxi I have been in the hospital or ER in the past year I have beaten a video game in one day (Do PC games count? I don’t play video games much, but I did play the Madagascar computer game a lot eons ago.) I have visited another country I have been to one of my favorite band’s concerts

RELATIONSHIPS: I’m in a relationship I have a crush on a celebrity I have a crush on someone I know (Still some lingering feelings...) I have been in at least 3 relationships I have never been in a relationship I have asked someone out or admitted my feelings to them I get crushes easily I have had a crush on someone for over a year I have been in a relationship for at least a year I have had feelings for a friend

MY LIFE: I have at least one person I consider a “best friend” (not in real life) I live close to my school My parents are still together I have at least one sibling I live in the United States There is snow right now where I live I have hung out with a friend in the past month I have a smartphone I have at least 15 CDs I share my room with someone

RANDOM SHIT: I have breakdanced I know a person named Jamie I have had a teacher with a last name that’s hard to pronounce I have dyed my hair I’m listening to one song on repeat right now I have punched someone in the past week I know someone who has gone to jail I have broken a bone I have eaten a waffle today (Actually, yes lol.) I know what I want to do with my life I speak at least 2 languages (I learned Spanish in school, but I’m not very fluent.) I have made a new friend in the past year (If online friends count. ^^)

I know the rules say to tag 9 people, but I’m just going to tag @rubykgrant, @tchallin, @kataang102, @pureforestguardian, @displacerghost, and @nientedal. Anyone else who wants to do it, go for it! Also, if I tagged you and you don’t want to do it, you don’t have to. No worries! :)

#tagged #tag game #about me #personal #memories #my posts

1 note · View note

davidfostercomedyblog · 6 years

Text

The Thrill of Defeat: Remembering Dad

In his later years it was rare to get a call from Dad after 6pm, as dinner was followed up with TV and (more) wine, a formulaic pair that apparently facilitates the body’s evening intention the way coffee and eggs do its mornings, even more so with age.

It took us a while, but my brother and I both eventually learned to avoid calling him after this time, lest be reminded, via the perfect storm of decreased attention span and auditory acuity, of our father’s mortality. Dad became notorious for the abruptly terminated, 40-second phone calls, that always went something like:

“Hey son, how ya doing? You’re good? Work’s good?”

“Yeah, Dad, all’s pretty--“

“Okay, gimme a call this week, I love ya, goodbye.”

“Err… what? Hello?”

So to say it came as a surprise when I saw his name pop up under “incoming” on my phone at around 10:30 one weeknight last summer would be an understatement. I looked in utter confusion at my girlfriend seated next to me on the couch.

“Who is it?” she asked, her eyes big with that classic Jewish worry, unfounded terror, which has been part of what I’ve fallen in love with, probably not so ironically.

“It’s my Dad,” I said, and relief washed over her.

“Hello?”

“Heyyy, son.”

“Hey… Dad,” the skepticism in my response as thick as if he’d walked out on us when I was six and this was the first I’m hearing from him.

“I wanted to talk to you about something about myself, if you have a minute,” and terror washed back over my face. Dad was sensitive and loving, though in typical white man fashion, not much one for emotional communication. He’d smother us with hugs and kisses and recklessly screw up our hair with an affectionate hand, but vulnerable dialogue around self-awareness was not a usual part of his repertoire. “So what could this possibly be about… at 10pm (the Dad equivalent to 4am)?”

“I think,” he started, “and by all means tell me if I’m off here…” (I already presumed he was)… “Have you ever noticed about me… well, I think I may get a bit too affected by the outcome of ballgames, you know? Like the Yankees and Giants… I may get too upset when they lose. Have you ever noticed that about me?”

My jaw dropped to an open grin as I turned to my girl. It was like Michael Jackson asking if he may have had too much plastic surgery; or Tony Montana in the last scene of Scarface wondering if he has a coke problem.

After the Giants lost a heartbreaking playoff game to the 49ers in 2002 my mom at the dinner table chose to find the humor in the situation: “Well, at least the Jets are still in it,” she offered as a sarcastic silver lining, knowing full well that Dad hated the Jets even more than he did the Red Sox or Cowboys.

“How would you like a fuckin’ bottle of wine broken over your face?” Dad asked Mom, and the only reason we knew he was joking was his unblemished record of non-violence. Dad was a good man, but an even better Giants fan, with little to no sense of humor around losses and disappointment.

Mom laughed him off; Dad shook his head, smiling in Jack Nicholson-like madness.

“They give me gray hairs, I tell ya, son. They give me gray hairs. I had a full head of black hair before I started watching the Giants, you know that?”

Well, I would hope so. Before you started watching them you were 9 years old.

I have vague childhood memories of dinners taking on a different tone after bad losses, and more vivid, recent memories of Dad cursing out the television if the Yankees give up even one run with a six run lead, all while sitting pretty in first place in the middle of May. I guess if you could say anything for him it’s that he lived in the moment. No matter what was going on in the game or where we were in the season, Dad was invested. A missed free throw or a four-pitch walk, especially after the Yankees had just taken the lead, and Dad’s signature catharsis would appear, a right foot slammed into the floor concurrent with the same side hand slammed into the same side (bad) knee, accompanied of course by the expletive of the moment.

My brother once remarked: “What is that move? I’ve never seen anyone else with that move before.”

That’s Dad’s move.

Dad cared, not just about the Yankees and Giants, and (20th century) Knicks, but that much more about his family, his five kids, which is likely why his passion for the game(s) was so infectious. My friend, Nick Cobb, is a hilarious stand-up comedian, who does a great bit on how absurd it is to be emotionally invested in a sports event, and every time he recites it I’m reminded of how different he and I are; how different people are; and I’m reminded of Dad.

Nick’s absolutely right. It’s illogical and immature, a tad bit insane to feel such fury around a group of guys you’ve never met before scoring less points than another such group of guys just because the former group wear shirts that have your hometown written on them. It’s probably only a notch above the animalistic frequency that propagates slavery and war, and presently our preposterous presidential debacle. Fortunately sports are much more a source of integration and celebration, and although ultimately insignificant in the higher realms of spirituality, they serve a positive purpose, if in no other way as a superficial means towards deeper connection.

In our final meal together Dad played all his classic hits: Asking me about my career, the logistics of my upcoming week, and of course if I’d been watching the Yankees playoff games. Obviously I had, and in his final days (really his final years) sports was the only subject matter about which we seemed to still communicate on an equal plain. Because of his waning faculties coupled with a general lack of understanding of the modern business climate, I often felt unfulfilled by our dialogue around my job; like it was tedious and too surface and any time I tried to delve deeper I’d lose him, frustrated between sympathy for and impatience with my father. It looks quite difficult, growing old, but also in the words of Michael Corleone (in another of our common bonds): “It’s not easy to be a son, Fredo.”

I am my father, through and through, not just according to my mom, but also in my own moments of self-reflection. When Scott Norwood missed wide right and the Giants won Super Bowl 25 Dad spent approximately five minutes crouched over the television set giving Marv Levy the middle finger, screaming at the top of his lungs: “Fuck you, Marv! FUCK YOU!” It’s a memory most etched into my brother’s mind, who was eight at the time, presumably cowering under the living room table; and we’ve since reflected as to what the exact beef was with Marv. As far as we know, Levy was a good guy, a great coach and had never harmed any women, children or small animals. Nevertheless, you wouldn’t have known as much to watch Dad berate him through the screen on what was surely one of the best days of his life.

17 years later when Plaxico Burress caught the game-winning touchdown in Super Bowl 42 to solidify the Giants’ win and ruin the Patriots’ perfect season I sprinted out of my cousin’s bedroom (I’d been watching the final quarter in a dark room by myself while our entire family sat sanely together just ten feet away) and thrust my 180 pound frame into the air to collapse upon my unprepared loved ones on the couch. I hurt my brother’s knee, then ran into the room and destroyed my bed frame. In the days after the parade I was experiencing such severe chest pains that I had to go to the hospital. All tests were negative. I just had to calm down.

My opinion is that one of our main purposes in life is to take as much of our parents’ good as possible, and leave as much of the bad. This is a goal I think I’ve at least matured into in the realm of sports, as I still celebrate the joy of victory, but don’t as much attach myself to the agony of defeat. Whereas I once punched a gaping hole in my bedroom wall when John Starks went 3/19 in Game 7, and had to sit in silent memoriam for almost an hour when Mariano blew the save to the Diamondbacks in ‘01, I find in recent years that I have an easier time moving on.

“It’s just not worth it,” I explained to Dad on the phone. “Like, we’re so lucky to be Giants fans, and God bless us, Yankees fans - overall, we’re quite spoiled, and get the opportunity to celebrate much more often than other fans. And I have you to thank for that! So I think it’s important to keep in mind going into these games that winning is a luxury that we just can’t expect to happen the majority of the time. It’s impossible. This isn’t to be negative, but just a bit realistic in our expectations so as to better, achem… manage our emotions… you know?”

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone. Had he fallen asleep? “Dad?”

“Yeah, I think you’re right… So you have noticed that about me then?”

LOL! “Yes, I think that’s fair to say. I mean, I think it’s great, and it’s a passion you’ve passed down to me, which I appreciate, but I think it’s important to keep things in perspective. Like I may get mad at a playoff game, a win-or-the-season’s-over kind of game, but I don’t allow myself to get angry at a regular season baseball game, of which there are 162! I think that’s an important distinction.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” he responded. “I think that’s good advice, son. I’m gonna try to remember that,” and in characteristic fashion he told me he loved me, hung up and was gone, all before I could fully reciprocate: “I love you.”

Nevertheless I believed him. I’d spent years trying to convince him to eat healthier, to drink less (alcohol) and more water, and really never got through. But one five-minute conversation on a random summer weeknight and I suspected it was actually transformative. It was less than two months before he passed away, and it might sound silly, but I wonder if it wasn’t one of the last lessons Dad had to learn before moving on. Everything about it was just so odd, the timing in relation to his death, the timing of the phone call and energy of his response.

Like anyone who’s lost a parent, I think about Dad often, but especially after Yankees wins, which was always the best time to catch him, in good enough spirits to occasionally generate a call doubly as long, even multiple minutes! I realize I miss sharing that with him. I miss being able to connect with him, as after certain games I still observe my mind’s kneejerk reaction: Call Dad – but I can’t anymore. I’m so lucky, so grateful, to have had the father I did for as long as I did, whose good was so good, and bad was at worst just sort of hilarious, and promise to do my best to continue to celebrate like a fool, but also to not adopt his move of the foot slam/hand into knee slam. That’s Dad’s move.

#fathersday #dad #sports

0 notes

zeroviraluniverse-blog · 6 years

Text

For Dodgers and Indians, spring training is about turning the page from their 2017 postseason heartache

Visit Now - http://zeroviral.com/for-dodgers-and-indians-spring-training-is-about-turning-the-page-from-their-2017-postseason-heartache/

For Dodgers and Indians, spring training is about turning the page from their 2017 postseason heartache

GOODYEAR, Ariz. — The morning after the Cleveland Indians fell to the New York Yankees in the American League Division Series, general manager Mike Chernoff’s fatherly duties took him to a local elementary school to watch his 6-year-old son, Brodie, perform in a first-grade concert. Chernoff’s heart was in the endeavor, but his mind kept flashing back to the Tribe’s 5-2 loss the previous evening and an ending that came far too abruptly for comfort.

“I am sitting there in a fog,” said Chernoff, inadvertently lapsing into the present tense. “I’m enjoying my son’s event. In some ways it’s helpful because you can separate your work life from what’s happening in this amazing moment for your son. But it was hard. It was really hard.”

The defending champs have the best chance at winning this year’s World Series, but a half-dozen rivals have cases for why they can prevent a repeat.

As spring training begins, we identify baseball’s elite — the teams with a chance to compete — and the teams that aren’t even trying to win this year. Where does your squad land?

Rewarding Luis Severino for a breakout season might seem like like the easy call, but manager Aaron Boone has a rotation full of alternatives.

2 Related

About 18 miles from Cleveland’s spring training camp in Goodyear, the folks in Dodger Blue know the feeling. Alex Wood, a starter for the National League champions, landed tickets to college football’s national title game between Alabama and his beloved Georgia Bulldogs, and he was counting the downs toward a victory when quarterback Tua Tagovailoa threw a 41-year touchdown pass to DeVonta Smith to pull off a win for the Crimson Tide.

For Wood, a product of the UGA baseball program, the moment wasn’t a fraction as painful as watching the Astros cavort on the Dodger Stadium infield after World Series Game 7. But it did put a crimp in his recovery process.

“That was two tough losses there, not far apart,” Wood said. “I saw the pass go up, and I was like, ‘Aww.’ Then my heart sunk into my stomach when I saw him about 12 yards in front of our D-back. Flip the page, right?”

Talk to players, managers, coaches and baseball executives, and they’ll reflexively tell you that 29 MLB clubs are destined to finish their seasons on a down note because for 29 teams, the season is guaranteed to finish with either a loss or a failure to make the playoffs. The Houston Astros were the lone exception last year, on their way to a cigar-chomping, champagne-spraying celebration and a season-ending parade.

Still, some teams have more reason than others to lament unhappy endings. At the Indians and Dodgers spring camps, the offseason routine made for an emotional tug of war.

“The first week or two are the hardest because you’re just second-guessing everything,” Cleveland infielder Jason Kipnis said. “Anything can happen in a playoff series. You come up short, and you’re like, ‘What changed? Everything worked before. Why did we stop doing this?’ All these questions start coming, but the answer is that no one changed anything. It’s just the game of baseball. It’s a tough-ass game, and it’s hard.

“As players, we’re conditioned to have a short memory and turn the page faster than most people because we usually have a game the next day. Suddenly, there’s no more season to play, and you’re like, ‘What do I do?’ You’re just stuck with memory of the last game or the last series. Once you start to turn the page on that, you finally start getting more excited for the redemption of next season. You learn from your mistakes, absorb it, and you move on.”

The Dodgers, Indians and Astros all won 100 games in 2017. What does history say awaits them in 2018? Of the 23 teams to win 100 games prior to 2017 in the wild card era:

• Five missed the postseason the following season • Seven won 100 games the following season • 19 won 90 games the following season • The 2012 Phillies were the only team to finish .500 or worse (81-81) • The teams had an average win percentage of .589 (a 95-win season) • Two won the World Series and two lost the World Series

Source: ESPN Stats & Information

Flash back to early October, and the outlook was promising for both clubs. The Indians were barely two weeks removed from a 22-game win streak, and they seemed to have all the pieces in place to go the distance and erase the pain of a Game 7 loss to the Cubs in the 2016 World Series.

The Dodgers, who peaked at 91-36 in late August, righted themselves after a late-season wobble and entered the playoffs feeling confident, with a healthy Clayton Kershaw leading the staff and home-field advantage throughout the postseason.

The oddsmakers were on board. At the end of the regular season, the Westgate Las Vegas Super Book gave the Indians 30.8 percent odds to win the World Series, with the Dodgers close behind at 28.6. The Astros, who joined Cleveland and Los Angeles as one of three 100-win teams, were third at 14.3 percent.

But the Astros’ balanced roster and #HoustonStrong karma ultimately prevailed. The Indians took a 2-0 lead in the ALDS, then hit a wall. They batted .171 (28-for-164) against the Yankees and scored five runs in their final three games. Designated hitter Edwin Encarnacion and outfielder Michael Brantley were limited by injuries, and staff ace Corey Kluber absorbed two straight poundings amid whispers of lingering back problems. Four months later, the perpetually stoic Kluber isn’t dropping any hints about his postseason physical limitations.

“I was good enough to pitch,” Kluber said. “I just didn’t get the job done.”

The Dodgers eliminated the Diamondbacks and Cubs in the NL playoffs before losing to Houston in a classic, seven-game World Series. They’re now 30 years removed from Kirk Gibson’s circling the bases in celebration of that momentous World Series homer off Dennis Eckersley.

Players from both teams went back to their everyday lives in the offseason. Kipnis traveled to Maui and Puerta Vallarta for a couple of friends’ weddings. Dodgers third baseman Justin Turner got married and spent his honeymoon with his bride in Dubai. Francisco Lindor, Cleveland’s resident energizer and All-Star shortstop, took part in his traditional offseason workout in Orlando, Florida, with Barry Larkin, Dee Gordon and friends. Lindor arrived in Goodyear with a new look, a searing analysis of his 2017 shortcomings and a strong desire to bring a title to Cleveland.

Edwin Encarnacion and the Indians couldn’t believe their season was over after the 2017 ALDS. Ken Blaze/USA Today Sports

Other players sequestered themselves in their man caves until the fog lifted, mindlessly occupied themselves with household chores or kept tabs on the lack of news among friends on the free-agent market before drifting back into their routines.

“I started back up in the weight room, but mentally, I wasn’t quite there yet,” Dodgers infielder Logan Forsythe said. “That Game 7 loss stuck with me a little bit, but after a while, I just kind of got over it and prepared for next year. Physically, I felt about the same. Mentally, it took a little bit longer.”

Both teams went relatively light on offseason activity. The Indians lost first baseman Carlos Santana, workhorse reliever Bryan Shaw and outfielder Jay Bruce to free agency while adding first baseman Yonder Alonso on a two-year, $16 million deal and signing outfielders Melvin Upton Jr. and Rajai Davis to minor league contracts.

The Dodgers won major creativity points when they shed the salaries of Adrian Gonzalez, Brandon McCarthy and Scott Kazmir and brought back Matt Kemp in a December trade with Atlanta. They spent $2 million on former Marlins starter Tom Koehler, who’ll get a crack at the bullpen role that Brandon Morrow so adeptly filled last season, acquired lefty Scott Alexander from Kansas City and re-signed Chase Utley to a two-year deal.

Players and teams get in gear for Opening Day in Florida and Arizona. • Complete spring training coverage »

Prognosticators are sanguine about the prospects for both teams. Baseball Prospectus’ PECOTA system projects the Dodgers and Astros to win 99 games each, the Indians to come in at 97 wins and the Yankees to win 96 in 2018. No other MLB club is projected to win 90 games.

“When you look at the core, there are guys here who are still on the come and trending in the right direction,” Dodgers manager Dave Roberts said. “The veteran players here are very productive. To force an acquisition or an overhaul doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. I give our front office a lot of credit for standing pat. Not to say we weren’t in on deals, but you have to understand what really makes sense for our organization. We’re very sensitive to that.”

In Cleveland, they’ve experienced enough heartache to distinguish between types of hangovers. In 2016, the Indians played 15 postseason games and knew that everything would end, win or lose, with a Game 7 matchup against the Cubs. Last year, the Indians were pushing and preparing for an ALCS matchup and a possible World Series return when the Yankees crashed the party. Cleveland’s advance scouts suddenly changed their travel plans and came home, and the general manager woke up after Game 5 of the ALDS and attended his son’s school concert.

“You’re going 100 miles an hour because you always think you’re gonna play the next day,” Chernoff said. “Then suddenly you just slam on the brakes and stop.”

Chernoff looks around Cleveland’s camp this spring and sees some players who have yet to fully flush the pain from their systems. But the Indians’ core group has been together a while, and manager Terry Francona will never allow his players to dwell on the negative for very long.

“You don’t see bitterness here,” Chernoff said. “You see motivation and drive.”

The same mindset applies in Los Angeles, where the Dodgers regard 2017 as a springboard as much as they see it as a missed opportunity. Cody Bellinger joined Corey Seager as a budding young star, and Turner, Chris Taylor and Joc Pederson were among the players who performed valiantly in October.

“We left every single ounce of energy and focus we had out there, from the front office down to the coaching staff and players,” Wood said. “There weren’t a lot of regrets in terms of things we could have done differently. The only focus now is looking forward and figuring out how we can finish the drill, so to speak. Losing the World Series is something you won’t forget until you right the ship and finish it out.”

Cactus League games will begin in a few days, and Opening Day is less than six weeks away. For the Indians and Dodgers, looking back in regret is no longer an option.

#2017 #Dodgers #heartache #Indians #Page #postseason #Spring #training #Turning #Sports #Sports News

0 notes

junker-town · 6 years

Text

Watching the National Championship at a Georgia bar is what heartbreak looks like

At a bar in Manhattan, a study in how quickly elation can turn to despair.

MANHATTAN — Joel Williams has waited 24 years, his whole life, for tonight. It’s 7:30, half an hour before Georgia plays Alabama in the National College Football Championship. He stands in front of one of the millions of TVs on the second floor of American Whiskey, the midtown bar that serves as the home away from home for University of Georgia fans. Decked out in Georgia gear, he reaches up to give a wooden ceiling beam violent and unreciprocated high fives.

“This is either gonna be the best or worst day of my life,” Williams says. “This is the only thing I care about. If they lose, I will squirrel dive off this balcony.”

Williams is from Tennessee and went to the University of Tennessee. But his father and grandfather went to Georgia, and the young man has never wavered in his fandom. He’s here with his roommate, a guy he keeps calling Moose, who played football at Holy Cross in Worcester, MA. Moose is all-in on the Dawgs now — he’s wearing a Georgia jersey that Matches Williams’, and a Georgia visor, too. Living with or loving a Georgia die-hard seems to result in fandom by osmosis: Most of the faithful in here have brought along roommates, significant others, or business partners that they have enveloped in their passion like hungry amoebas.

“We’ve been through decades of bullshit,” says Amanda Mull, a writer in New York City who grew up in Atlanta and went to UGA. She’s on the alumni board and watches every game here.

“It’s been forty years,” she continues. “It’s so long that we’re just happy to have you along for the ride.”

Among the consumed (most of whom are from the Northeast) is Kevin Hooshangi, who owns American Whiskey. He’s currently manning the DJ booth behind one of the bars on the first floor, which starting to feel like a sardine can, but it doesn’t yet smell as bad and it’s much more exciting. Hoosanghi grew up playing football on Long Island. He went to NYU — which is not exactly known for its athletic prowess — so when one of his buddies from home ended up at Georgia, he and his high school friends hopped on the bandwagon.

“I fell in love with the history,” Hooshangi says, adjusting his red blazer with a bulldog printed on the inner lining. “I related to it on a football level; all the running backs and the pro-style offense. I love the SEC, some of the traditions. I just thought they were an easy group to cheer for.”

Hooshangi owned a bar called the Village Pourhouse, and, in 2006, started dreaming of opening a bar devoted to Georgia with the Pourhouse’s Georgia-born-and-bred bar manager Robbie York. It just so happened that the UGA alumni board was looking for a new bar to host game days at in 2012, when Hooshangi and York were planning to open American Whiskey. They made a deal, and have been so successful that they’re thinking of opening bars in Georgia, too — one in Athens and one in Atlanta. York is at the game in Atlanta tonight.

Charlotte Wilder

Kevin Hooshangi, owner of American Whiskey, the biggest Georgia bar in New York City.

Jonas Vargas walks by. He’s wearing a small Georgia jersey and throwing himself at people’s legs. The seven-month-old bulldog is the shortest, youngest, and most expensive fan in here — he hails from the breeder that supplies Yale with its mascots. Jonas cost Joey Vargas, his owner and the beverage director for American Whiskey, an arm and a leg. He’s been worth it.

Hooshangi puts on Eminem’s “Lose Yourself.” The place erupts in indeterminable screaming as the TVs show Jake Fromm, Georgia’s 19-year-old freshman quarterback, striding through the tunnel (“our sweet baby boy!” someone yells).

Everyone in here knows that their 13-1 Georgia Bulldogs can beat Nick Saban’s football Death Star, the team that has won four championships in the last eight years. It’s hard to tell whether there are more boos and “fuck you!”s for Saban or Donald Trump, who is on the field for the national anthem and doing a terrible job of appearing to know the words.

At kickoff, this bar sounds as loud as an an aircraft carrier in full swing. It’s hot, and humid, and smells like college: spilled beer, sweat, and hope. The mix of screams and the sound of the broadcast and the thumping bass is intoxicating (as is the beer and whiskey, which people are doing a really good job of drinking). The hugs and high fives are endless, physical manifestations of what it looks like to care so much about something that doesn’t matter at all and is also the most important thing in the world.

Georgia is playing a hell of a game. The Bulldogs are up 20 to 10 going into the fourth quarter. Hooshangi is in his element behind the bar, sweating profusely through his jacket as he juggles three phones and an iPad to work the sound system. He’s surrounded by his regulars, who are all confident that UGA’s got this, despite Georgia’s history of blowing big leads in football games. They have faith.

Charlotte Wilder

I check on Williams, who’s cheering, staring at the TV, and seems to have forgotten how to blink. I ask how he’s doing, and he says he’s good, he believes. But then Fromm gets sacked and he turns to me.

“Get out of here,” Williams says. “You can’t stand here. You’re bad luck.”

I oblige, and move across the room. Alabama ties the game up. Silence settles over the bar save for the announcer’s voices booming through the speakers. Then Georgia gets what appears to be a huge interception and everyone goes nuts again.

But it’s overturned. A “fuck that shit” chant gets going. People are so drunk that they’re swaying back and forth even when they try to stand still. Makeup is running down cheeks, sweat is pouring through shirts. Fans are screaming at the TV through Bama’s final drive, but then the Tide get within field goal range, and the place gets quiet again.

Alabama’s kicker misses. They’re still in it. Hope springs. Heads hit the ceiling. Bodies fly. Geysers of beer shoot into the air. Everyone is jumping up and down, crushing each other, as the beer drips from the ceiling and Georgia marches down the field in overtime. President Rodrigo once again makes a kick. All UGA has to do is stop Alabama and the Dawgs will have won the national title for the first time since 1980.

But they don’t. They don’t stop them. Alabama’s freshman backup quarterback Tua Tagovailoa makes a perfect throw to DeVonta Smith, who scores a touchdown, and just like that, the game is over.

Georgia loses.

The bar goes silent again. No one is talking, but everyone is looking at each other, shaking their heads. Some embrace. A man faces the wall and leans against it. One woman puts her head in her hands and starts crying. I look around and realize that many others are, too, some softly, some with huge, heaving sobs that shake their shoulders.

Williams has stopped pounding the ceiling beam. As soon as the game ends he leaves Moose and his other friends and walks straight to the bar to close out. He stands there, hands over his mouth, as he waits for the bill. He signs it, then makes eye contact as he walks by me. I start to open my mouth but he just shakes his head and walks down the stairs and out of the bar. His eyes look red.

The place empties out fast. It’s 12:30 in the morning, and the few fans who stick around look dazed, as though they’re not sure how to get themselves out of here — both this bar and the pit of despair they’ve fallen into. One woman starts trash talking Alabama. Her friends just sush her.

“I’m okay with it,” Mull says. “Honestly. We had that incredible win at the Rose Bowl. We weren’t going to get two games like that in a row.”

Hooshangi is still behind the bar, alone now. He seems tired, but not angry. He puts on “The Devil Went Down to Georgia,” to drown out the sounds of Alabama’s celebration, but cuts the song off right before Charlie Daniels can sing, “If you lose, the Devil gets your soul.”

He looks at the TV, where confetti is getting caught up in Saban’s hair. The coach hoists the trophy with his fifth championship team in nine years.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I wanted to give you the Cinderella ending.”

0 notes