#Baseball Humor Tee

[grannyandgrandpascreations]

Thou Shall Not Hit & Steal T-Shirt – Bold Baseball/Softball Commandment Tee

Step up your game with our "Thou Shall Not Hit & Steal" t-shirt, specially designed for baseball and softball season. This bold tee delivers a clever twist on sportsmanship with a commandment-style message that’s sure to spark conversation on and off the field. Crafted with premium, comfortable fabric by Granny and Grandpa's Custom Creations, it’s perfect for players, fans, and team events. Show your team spirit and order yours today!

Features:

Unique Design: Bold, statement-making design perfect for directors and leaders.

High-Quality Material: Made with soft, durable fabric that ensures a comfortable fit wash after wash.

Vibrant Print: Uses high-quality, long-lasting for crisp graphics and text on a gray t-shirt.

Easy Care: Turn item inside out, machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener.  Do not dry clean.  Do not iron.  Tumble dry low.   

Perfect for Any Occasion: A bold, humorous commandment tee for baseball and softball season. Perfect for players and fans alike, this premium apparel celebrates team spirit and sportsmanship. A bold, humorous statement tee for Ball Season!

Bring humor to your wardrobe this season and let your t-shirt do the talking!

Just your everyday comfy t-shirt. Get comfortable with our 100% cotton crew neck t-shirts.   Made of 100% soft cotton for a smooth, breathable fit.   Pre-shrunk cotton tees are perfect for layering or wearing alone.  Lightweight fabric keeps you cool and dry so you can look great and feel great all day.  

The perfect tee shirt for a modern casual look.  Not too long so you can wear these untucked with a pair of jeans or chinos.  Looks great under a casual blazer and jeans for a relaxed Friday style.  Stylish and versatile everyday crew neck tees are a wardrobe staple. 

Due to different light settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.

Thank you for visiting Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations, we truly appreciate your support of small businesses. We also personalize our products, please reach out to us with any personalizing any of our products, additional fee's may apply.

Please visit www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com to view more products.

LET’S GET SOCIAL & BE FRIENDS! Like, Tag & Follow us for Our new Creations, Inspiration & Giveaways!

website/ www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com/shop

facebook.com/ https://www.facebook.com/GrandpaHandmadecreations/

instagram.com/ https://www.instagram.com/grannyandgrandpacustomcreation/

#HumorousApparel #CustomWomensTShirt #GrannyAndGrandpasCreations #StatementTShirt #FunnyGraphicTee #ThouShallNotHitAndSteal #BaseballTShirt #SoftballTee #SportsCommandment #TeamSpirit #CustomSportswear #BoldGraphicTee #SportsHumor #AthleticApparel

© 2024 All photography is intellectual property of Granny and Grandpa's Custom Creations © and may not be used without express written permission from Granny and Grandpa's Custom Creations.

Welcome to Granny and Grandpa’s Custom Creations Store! Discover a delightful collection of handcrafted goods, vintage-inspired apparel, and cozy home essentials that bring warmth and charm to your everyday life. Each item is thoughtfully curated, reflecting the love and care of a granny’s touch. We’ve got a fantastic selection of distressed flannels, cozy t-shirts, trendy tumblers, and so much more. Whether you’re looking for a laid-back outfit or a fun accessory, you’ll find something special here. Don’t forget to check out our seasonal items and unique finds that capture that charming, vintage vibe! Remember, Granny and Grandpa's Custom Creations is that "hidden" gem with unique, great quality, fun, gorgeous, innovative, and inexpensive gifts for your Loved Ones or yourself for your next shopping trip! Granny and Grandpa’s Custom Creations store offers something special for everyone. Whether you’re searching for a one-of-a-kind treasure or a heartfelt gift, you’ll find a warm, welcoming atmosphere that feels just like home. Step into Shop family-owned Granny and Grandpa’s Custom Creations online or in store and experience the magic of timeless treasures! We also love custom orders!

[ufstudios77]

Baseball Dad T-Shirt – Strike or Ball? Ask Me!

For the dad who always has an opinion on every pitch ⚾ This “Baseball Dad – Professional Line Judge” tee is a hilarious tribute to the fathers who call it like they see it — from the bleachers, the bench, or behind the grill. With a retro-styled baseball and sunset background, it’s perfect for Little League dads, sports fans, and the family’s self-proclaimed umpire.

🎁 A great gift for Father’s Day, tournaments, or just because he’s always calling the plays.

[keirareidss]

worship you - s.r

♡ summary: your boyfriend shows you how much he loves you when you're feeling insecure pairing: post prison!spencer reid x fem!reader warnings: 18+, MDNI, smut, p in v wc: 1.2k based on this request

The mall wasn't too busy for a Saturday. You and Spencer were out shopping, not with anything specific in mind. You strolled hand in hand down the linoleum tiles, glancing through the windows of shops you pass by to see if they're worth going into.

"Let's check this one out." Spencer nudges you towards a shop. You follow as he tugs you through the door. Quiet pop music played through the speakers as you trudged through the aisles of clothes.

"Spence, look." You pulled a shirt off the rack, holding it up to his chest. It was a tan tee shirt, pictures of rats all over the front with text above them saying 'rats from around the world'. He looks down, reading it upside down before chuckling.

"The funny thing is, I would actually wear this." You slip it back on the rack, continuing along the aisles.

You both keep picking out clothes for each other, silly things neither of you would wear. Spencer finds a baseball cap with 'solvem probler' written on the top. You find a shirt with 'world's sluttiest husband' printed on it, which he briefly considers buying. He holds up a shirt with a picture of a seal on it that says 'seal of approval'.

After laughing until both of your stomachs hurt, Spencer finds something else on the rack.

"What about this?" He holds up a sleek black dress to your body. Your smile drops slightly and you feel a pit in your stomach. You knew you wouldn't like the way you would look in that dress.

You chuckled a little, trying to laugh it off in hopes that he'll put it back on the rack and move on.

"Wait, I think you'd actually look good in this."

"Spencer I do not have the figure for that." You scoffed.

"What are you talking about?" His eyebrows furrow and his expression turns serious.

"Come on, look at that thing. That dress was not made for me." He stares at you for a moment, trying to figure out if you're still joking around or not.

"I don't understand. What's wrong with your body that it wouldn't look good in this?" You couldn't believe you were having this conversation right now.

"It's just..." You sighed, an embarrassed blush rising on your cheeks. "I don't know, it's like my hips and my stomach kinda..." You mumbled, looking down. Spencer glanced around until his eyes found the sign that read 'changing room'.

"Come on." He tugged you through the aisles, moving towards the room you were dreading. He pulled you inside, yanking the curtain shut behind you. "Put it on." He holds out the dress towards you.

"Spence-"

"Just- humor me." You sighed, stripping your clothes off, your face getting redder. He looks away politely and you pull the dress on, the fabric nearly skin tight.

"Okay, you can look." Spencer turns his head, his eyes roving up and down your body. He steps closer, his hands finding your hips. He turns you around to face the mirror, your back against his chest. "You look gorgeous." He murmurs in your ear, lifting a hand to brush your hair back so he can kiss your neck.

"Spencer..." You looked down, away from the mirror but Spencer's hand quickly finds your chin tilting your head back up.

"Look at how pretty you are." His hands roam your body, sliding along your hips before his arms wind around your stomach, pulling you into him. "Beautiful." He hums, nipping at your neck. "How can you not like the way you look?"

"I don't know, I just... I feel... I can't explain it." He hummed in thought.

"I think you look perfect." He said, making eye contact with you in the mirror. "You know that, right?" You sighed.

"Yeah." He caught the hint of skepticism in your voice. You didn't believe him.

"Let me show you." He nudged you forward, closer to the mirror. "Put your hands on the wall." You obliged, leaning forward to place your hands flat on the wall. His hands found your hips again, pulling you back into his crotch, your back arching as you felt his hard on poking into you.

"Spence." You let out a breathy little moan.

"Shh. Don't want anyone to hear, do you?" His hands traveled down the back of your thighs, finding the hem of the dress which he slides up over the curve of your ass. He pulls down your underwear and you let out a shaky breath in anticipation as you heard his belt being unbuckled.

Watching him in the mirror, you saw him pulling down his pants and underwear, lining himself up with you. He brings his hand around your head, holding it in front of your lips.

"Spit." He orders. You complied, spitting into his hand which he brings down between your legs, spreading your saliva around your sex. You let out a soft whine and he shushes you again, his hand leaving your core, replacing it with the head of his cock. He suddenly thrusts inside you, clasping his hand around your mouth before you can cry out.

"Don't you see how attractive you are? You're so fucking pretty." He buries his face in your neck as his thrusts quicken. You moaned, your eyes falling shut in pleasure. "Open your eyes." He murmurs his gaze meeting yours again in the mirror.

His other hand slid up your torso, cupping your breast underneath the sleek dress. He pinched your nipple through the thin fabric of the lace, your hard peaks straining through your bra.

A muffled moan sounded from your lips behind Spencer's hand. You hoped the other changing rooms were empty and that the rest of the store couldn't hear what you were doing, but secretly, perversely, you wanted someone to hear. You wanted someone to know that your boyfriend was defiling you in a mall dressing room. Spencer kissed along your back, the parts of your skin that were exposed from the dip in the dress.

"I'm close." You breathed and his hips sped up their movements. He moved his hand from your mouth, sliding it between your thighs to rub circles on your clit, bringing you closer to the edge.

"So gorgeous." He hummed, kissing up to your neck where he sucked a mark right above your collarbone, making you gasp when his teeth met your skin.

"Spence- I'm gonna cum, spencer-"

"Shh, I've got you." He quickened the pace of his fingers, thrusting deeper into you and soon, you were releasing on his cock. He grunted as you clenched around him, his body draping down over your back as he finished inside you.

Your hands braced against the wall, your chest heaving as you came down from your high. Spencer straightened, pulling you up with him so you were leaning against his front.

"You always look so pretty after an orgasm." You sighed, chuckling a little as your eyes fell closed, Spencer tugging the garment back down. "And I am definitely buying you that dress."

Taglist: @superbeaglewitch, @perfectgoopfishuniversity-blog, totallynotabuckybarnessimp, @dramioneforevertilltheend. @cynbx, @diminombre, @tinythebunni

[austinbutlerslovers]

The Ball Game

Label Mature 18+

Summary Austin brings you with him to Wrigley field to watch a ball game in VIP with fellow celebrities. Shy in the midst of such a large crowd he leans to your for comfort, reserved in public about what he really wants to do back at the hotel.

💝 Romantic Smut 💝 Austin doting boyfriend • Austin shy • Austin reserved pda • smitten •fluff • affectionate • edging • sweet talk• praising • body worship• love making • orgasm •cream pie 🔗Masterlist

✨Inspo Latest pics/vids of him enjoying baseball in Chicago 🥰

The Ball Game

The sun blazes over Wrigley Field, a jewel of green and red brick nestled in Chicago’s bustling North Side. 

The ballpark is teeming with action, vendors selling hot dogs and beer, their voices cutting through the chatter of the crowd, while the organ belts out jaunty tunes. 

The Cubs are facing the Rockies today, and the energy is frenzied, a mix of exhilaration and anticipation that makes you fill with excitement.

Austin is somehow both commanding and unassuming as he navigates the VIP section. He’s dressed in some of his favorites: a dark navy Capco steel cap pulled low over his blue eyes, a fitted white tee hugging his broad chest, and a soft blue button-up hanging open with light tan cargo pants that accentuate him in all the right places.

Despite his fame, Austin still clings to wearing certain clothing pieces like a security blanket, their worn-in familiarity grounding him in a world of flashing cameras and non-stop public commitments.

You’re seated next to him right behind the batting cage, a prime section secured for him as a VIP with the other celebrity guests in attendance.

With Austin just filming Caught Stealing as Hank, a baseball player with a gritty edge, the excitement of being so close to the pitchers mound radiates from him. 

He turns to you, his full lips curving into a boyish grin. “You good, babe?” he asks, his voice low and warm, those blue eyes searching yours with a tenderness that makes your heart melt. 

He’s reserved in public, but with you, he’s all softness, leaning into you like your presence is his safety net.

“I’m great,” you reply, squeezing his hand. His fingers are long and warm, as he gives you a gentle squeeze back, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. 

You can tell he’s thrilled to have you here, his usually guarded demeanor loosening as he glances at the field, then back at you, his blue eyes glinting with affection.

Around you, the VIP section is filled with familiar faces. Jeremy Allen White, Austin’s co-star in their upcoming film Enemies, is seated to his right, his shorter frame slouched casually in a white tee and khakis, a tan cap tilted low over his eyes.

Jeremy’s got this brooding energy, all half smirks and quick wit, his crystal blue eyes lighting up as he chats with a curious Austin about the meaning of his tattoos. 

Yesterday, Jeremy took Austin to roam his hometown of Chicago together, grabbing coffee at Doma Cafe in Andersonville. They were spotted by fans almost instantly and Jeremy being the kind humble guy that he is when mistaken for “looking exactly like Jeremy Allen White,” just nodded in agreement. 

Austin kept his head low, thinking he would be spared, but was nabbed by an even bolder fan who flat out asked for his phone number, which in true Austin style he graciously declined.

Among the other VIP celebs in your section, David Harbour is seated to your left. His burly frame sprawled across the seat as he trades stories with Jason Bateman, who’s impeccably dressed in a black tee and Cubs hat. 

David’s laugh is a deep, rumbling thing, and he’s got this dad-like warmth that you admire from his role on Stranger Things, his kindness almost tempting you enough to ask him about the next season. 

Jason, meanwhile, is all dry humor and wit, his sharp blue eyes scanning the field as he quips, “If I’d known we’d be this close to the action, I would have brought my catchers mit.”

They’re all so down-to-earth, these larger-than-life men who could command any room, but choose instead to blend into the chaos of the ballpark,  just like any other group of guys enjoying a sunny afternoon.

The game kicks off with a roar from the crowd, and Austin stands, his hands stuffed anxiously in his pockets, cheering reservedly as the Cubs take the field. 

He’s shy about being in such a large crowd , his shoulders hunching slightly, but his eyes light up, wide and bright, taking in the vibrant green field, the players practicing swings just infront of him.

When the organ starts playing “Take Me Out to the Ballgame”, he sways a little, singing softly, his voice low and melodic blending in. You join him, and he glances at you, his grin widening, a spark of pure joy in his expression. You lean close so he can hear you over the noise, your elbow nudging his.

“Having fun Austin?” you tease.

“More than I thought I would,” he admits, his gaze sweeping the stadium before settling on you. 

The moment is perfect and Austin, in a rare display of public affection, shifts closer slipping his arm around your shoulder, his touch warm and heartfelt. 

For someone as reserved as he’s become, the simple gesture feels monumental as his long fingers slide down to your waist and he gently pulls you into his side. 

When you glance at him, his cheeks are flushed a soft pink under the brim of his cap, and his blue eyes are soft and smitten. He leans in, clearly wanting to kiss you, but a sudden wave of shyness pulls him back a bit, and a wide grin spreads across your face. 

Austin pauses, his own bashful smile forming on his lips, his eyes laced with affection as he takes in your reaction, completely charmed by you.

Jeremy, catching the moment, leans over with a sly grin. “Smooth Bulter” he teases, his tone pure mischief.

David and Jason join in, chuckling, David’s deep laugh rumbling as he adds, “C’mon, man, you’re breaking our hearts out here with all this romantic tension,” 

Jason, ever the dry wit, leans back tilting his Cubs hat up slightly as he quips, “Gotta give the man points for effort,—bold move in a full stadium.” and David slaps his knees, laughing.

Their playful ribbing fills the air, the group’s easy chemistry turning the moment into a warm, lighthearted spectacle blending with the stadium’s cheers. You can’t help but grin at their antics, your cheeks warm, your heart swelling at Austin’s shy courage.

Austin plays it off interlacing his fingers with yours his bashfulness eating him alive as he leans in to whisper. “You okay?” his voice soft, checking in like he always does.

“More than okay,” you whisper back, still grinning, and he smiles, that quiet, smitten smile that’s just for you.

When the game ends with the Cubs winning against the Rockies 3-1, you and Austin leave with the other VIPs long before the crowd spills out. After a day of cheering and reveling under the Chicago sun, you and Austin are both drained but happy.

Back at the hotel, a sleek suite at the Peninsula with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, you’re both too tired to do anything but collapse. 

Austin flops onto the king-sized bed, sprawling on his stomach, his cap tossed aside, his sandy blonde hair a mess. “I’m dead,” he groans, his voice muffled by the pillow.

“Poor baby,” you tease, climbing onto the bed. You straddle his lower back, your hands caressing over the tense muscles of his shoulders and he sighs under your touch, his body relaxing as you work out the stress from a long day. 

“Mmm, you’re so good to me,” he murmurs, turning his head to peek at you, his eyes heavy-lidded but warm with affection.

He reaches back, guiding you down gently until you’re lying beside him. He props himself up on one elbow as he looks at you, his gaze tracing your face. “I really wanted to kiss you out there,” he confesses, his voice soft with emotion.

“I know,” you respond, brushing your fingers gently along his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch. “You can kiss me in here,” you smile, and he grins in return, his blue eyes twinkling with adoration as he leans in and kisses you, slow and deep, his hand cradling your jaw.

You kiss him back, your fingers trailing through his sandy brown hair, and he shifts closer, his touches growing more insistent. His lips move against yours with a quiet hunger, and when he pulls back just enough to speak, his breath is warm against your skin. 

“Kissing in here is so much better,” he smiles, his thumb stroking your cheek. 

“Why because you don’t have an audience,” you grin cheekily, your eyes mischievous.

“No because I can do more than kissing,” he replies, his voice a promise, as his fingers slip down the straps of your top, sliding it off with a gentleness that makes you kiss him again.

You surrender to him, helping as he unbuttons your jeans, easing them down your legs with care, leaving you in nothing but your bra and panties. His eyes, are soft and reverent as he takes you in. “So beautiful,” he whispers leaning in his voice low and sincere against your ear. 

He sits up slightly, sliding off his blue button up then his white tee to reveal the lean, toned planes of his chest, the soft light catching the contours of his muscles. His cargo pants follow as he kicks them off leaving him in gray boxers, his movements unhurried and purposeful.

He leans over you, his lips finding yours again, kissing you with a passion that’s both gentle and consuming. His hands roam softly, tracing the curve of your waist, his touch warm and worshipful. “You’re so special to me,” he whispers against your lips, his voice heavy with emotion as he moves to kiss along your jaw, and down the column of your neck. 

His fingers unclasp your bra sliding it away, and he presses soft kisses to your collarbone, his breaths hot against your skin. His lips trail lower, brushing over the swell of your breasts, each kiss intensified, his hands cradling your sides as he whispers, “I can’t wait to feel you,” his voice a soft vow.

His hand drifts lower, knuckles brushing over the fabric of your panties, a slow, deliberate touch that sends a shiver through you. 

He strokes the lips up and down through the thin material, his movements gentle but teasing, his eyes locked on yours, watching your reactions with a mix of adoration and desire. 

“It feels so good Austin,” you whisper, your voice a shaky hush as your hands lower to your hips. You help him as he pulls your panties off, both of you staring as he spreads you gently, his fingers slick, his touch careful but confident as you gasp at the soft intimacy. 

He lingers there, his fingers trailing slow, strokes up and down, his lips finding yours again in a deep, languid kiss. His breaths mingle with yours as he presses soft kisses to your cheek, your jaw, your lips, building the anticipation with every touch.

He shifts, positioning himself above you, his body warm and solid, his eyes never leaving yours as he pulls his boxers down, his hard cock sliding out as you both watch. 

He rubs the tip gently against you, teasing your slickness, his mouth parting in a quiet gasp as he savors the pleasure of it. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice raw with emotion, and then he pushes forward, sinking all the way in, your mouth opening in bliss as your eyes lock in a shared moment of ecstasy. 

He kisses you slowly, his lips moving with yours as he pulls your leg over his hip, pressing closer. His movements are steady, passionate, each thrust gentle but deep, his hands cradling your body like you’re something precious.

“So perfect for me,” he whispers kissing you softly, then more urgently, his praises a constant thread as he moves faster—“You’re everything,” “I’m so lucky,”—he whispers against your skin as he moves with you.

His breaths grow heavier with his eyes locked on yours, filled with a vulnerability that makes your heart ache. He cups your face, his thumb  brushing your cheek, “I’m getting close baby,” he whispers his voice shaky with emotion, his softness just for you. 

The intimacy of his words, the way he bares himself, pushes you closer to the edge. You feel the tension building in your body, responding to his every touch, his every breath. As he moves he satisfies you so well with each thrust that you begin to orgasm, your moans breaking off in soft, shuddering waves, raw and unrestrained. 

The pleasure crashes over you, overwhelming, your gasps mingling with his as your body trembles beneath him, every sensation heightened by the way he knows you, loves you, bringing you to the peak of pleasure with such care and devotion.

He moans with you, his thrusts growing messier, more desperate, his hips grinding against you as he chases his release. His sounds are deep and pleasurable, his low groans vibrating against your skin, and you feel the force of him as he climaxes, his movements relentless yet tender, drawing out your pleasure as he surrenders to his own. He begins to come with a shudder, his breath hitching, his body tensing as he holds you close, his lips pressing onto yours in a desperate final kiss.

You lay together, panting, your bodies still entangled, the afterglow wrapping you in warmth. His head rests against yours, his breaths uneven, his hand gently stroking your hair as he whispers, “You’re my everything,” his voice soft and sated. 

You smile, your hands reaching over to stroke his temple as his eyes flutter shut. “I’ll never stop loving  you like this,” you promise your voice a soft whisper, filled with devotion.

The city of Chicago sounds softly beyond the windows, but in this moment, it’s just you and Austin, your bodies intertwined, his love a vow in every touch, every kiss, and every breath, always holding you in his heart.

END ⚾️

🔗 Masterlist

🏷️ Always Tag Me

@purejasmine @burnthheparaphilia @butdaddyilovehim99 @austinbutlerfly @mani-pedro @lindszeppelin @abswifey @aust-een @umika @feralgodmothers @megangovier @magicovento @obsessedvibee @austiebuttbutt @faegoddessog @dunevitani @unicoo @thejoywillburnoutthepain @jessica987 @slowsweetlove @hardcoredisneynerd @finley-08 @thegabbyh @thefallofthedamned @buckysteveloki-me @bucking-mustangs-with-wings @shegatsby @darlingisntit @lovereadingfanfic @denised916 @shockercoco @minispice-1 @i5uckersblog @ughdontbeboring @meetmeatyourworst @avidreader73 @xxmandaveexx @mamawiggers1980 @12joeywheelerfangirl @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @gravesdiggergirl @nostalgichoya @stars-remain2 @skulliecadaver-blog @jjubilee-fluff @laurenmcquilty @louisejoy86 @butlerrizz @kulturalismellektermek  @pookie3bear3000

[aamircoeur]

a shot for your thoughts? ー Ken Sato.

Just another evening of finding sad-looking men hot as a bartender.

a/n: going back to my roots 🫡 kenji imy baby come home 2me

SUPER short one-shot, mentions of alcohol, suggestive dialogue, unedited.

"why the long face?" you asked, pouring beer into the mug before sliding it to the guy at the end of the counter.

"thanks!" the guy exclaimed, and you nodded at him with a smile as a response before looking back at the man in front of you. he had a fitted white tee inside of his leather moto jacket, his jet-blacked hair slicked back and a motorcycle helmet that he placed on the counter.

the man looked at you without a word, careful not to give a mean stare. "uh, just have a lot of stuff going on right now." he answered. you laughed and grabbed a clean mug from your side of the counter.

"yeah?" you said while you poured apple-flavored beer into the mug. as a bit of the beer head poured out of the glass, you wiped the drips from the sides with a cloth and placed it in front of him. "tell me all about it."

he looked at the mug, then at you. amused, you grabbed the beer and took a huge gulp, before placing it back to where it was. "no poison." you smiled, and he chuckled in response before taking a sip from it himself.

"just, ah . ." he started, looking down at the drink in his hand, and swirling it inside the glass as he collected his thoughts. "i'm pressured, 'nd lonely, and shit." he finished, chuckling to himself as a way to numb the pain that he felt upon admitting it before taking another sip.

"lonely, you?" your eyebrows raised in disbelief. you pressed your elbow on the counter, leaning towards him to show your interest. "who would've thought?"

the man mimicked your actions and placed his elbows on the counter as he grinned to himself. "yeah, i'm fabulous, really," he joked.

you let out a breath of amusement at his humor. "clearly. but, nevermind that, 'm here to keep you company, pretty boy. what's pressuring you?"

"i play professional baseball. i'm used to being this big shot that everyone relies on to get the win for the team." he explained. "but, shit, if that was as easy as before, i wouldn't try finding comfort in alcohol."

you offered him a kind smile upon understanding his situation. "i see," you said before turning around and grabbing whiskey from the liquor cabinet. the man's eyes followed you closely in curiosity, the half-empty mug of beer forgotten.

he stared at the way your shoulders were rested, imagining how it must feel to converse with every person that a bartender talks to on a daily basis whilst doing their job. he lowered his eyes and noticed the inwards curve of your waist because of the tight white uniform you were wearing, and he then noticed the colored pens on the back pocket of your gray slacks, which was conveniently positioned on your buttocks.

"checking me out already? shit, at least wait for my shift to be over, pretty." you teased, facing him suddenly before pouring whiskey on the iced shot glass.

"why wait?" the man grinned, his perfectly aligned teeth on display. you smiled in return at his response while you finished up the drink, which you then placed right in front of him. "tequila?" he asked.

"whiskey. on the house."

"you spoil me," he smiled. "or are you pitying me?"

you took a few steps to your right before getting a towel to wipe the counter, the man's eyes glued to yours as he held the shot glass. "nah, i just think you're hot." you answered. "i like sad people."

"ah, that just got me a hard-on," the man laughed and waited for your return back in front of him. "keep flirting with me like that and you'll certainly get me in your bed soon," he glanced down at your name tag. "[name]." he finished, looking back into your gleaming eyes.

"glad to know my plan's working," you said. "say, what name should i be screaming tonight?" you joked.

the man laughed and raised the glass to his mouth before leaning his head backwards and taking the shot of whiskey, the liquid leaving a cool, burning sensation inside his mouth as he swallowed. "kenji," he tapped the glass on the counter, his purple-colored eyes squinting as he grinned widely at you once more. "kenji sato. it's nice to meet you."

[rdmasevi]

Burning for You

Title: "Burning for You": a BTS fanfiction

Pairing: Jungkook ( BTS ) x Reader Male ( Firefighter)

Genre: Romantic Drama | Slice of Life | Light Humor

Warnings: Mild language, Suggestive content, Firefighting scenarios

Summary: When a grounded firefighter and a global idol cross paths during a blaze, sparks fly—both literal and emotional.

The fire was under control. Smoke curled up into the night sky as the red-and-blue strobes painted chaotic beauty over the crowd. You stepped out of the building, ash coating your gear, and peeled off your helmet, revealing damp hair and tired eyes.

And that’s when Jungkook saw you.

He hadn’t meant to be there. The boys had just finished a late-night recording nearby when the sirens wailed past their van. Namjoon suggested they walk the last block to their dorm. Curiosity and adrenaline dragged them toward the flashing lights.

“Damn,” Taehyung said, nudging Jungkook’s side. “That firefighter looks like a drama lead.”

Jungkook didn’t answer. He was staring. Hard.

You looked like a storm—commanding, calm, and untouchably cool. Even covered in soot, you were something out of a dream. You scanned the crowd and caught Jungkook’s gaze for a second. He froze. You nodded, a small polite gesture, and walked toward your crew.

“I think I just fell in love with a firefighter,” Jungkook murmured.

Hoseok grinned. “He caught your eye?”

“He caught everything.”

——

Two weeks later

You didn’t recognize the guy at first when he walked into the fire station’s charity event. You were manning the dunk tank, laughing as kids tried (and failed) to send your buddy into the water. Then you heard the unmistakable sound of someone clearing their throat theatrically.

“I’ll give a generous donation if I get one throw.”

You looked up. Black bucket hat. Loose tee. Tattoos peeking out of sleeves. Big doe eyes.

Holy shit. It was Jungkook.

“You a fan of firefighters or just enjoy dunking people?” you asked, wiping your hands on a towel.

He grinned. “Bit of both. But mostly here for… you.”

You blinked.

“I saw you at that apartment fire. You looked like you stepped out of an action movie.”

“Yeah? You looked like you stepped off a runway.”

Jungkook laughed, surprised and clearly pleased. He handed over a donation—generous, just like he promised—and hit the target with a perfect pitch, sending your friend crashing into the water.

“You play baseball in your spare time?” you asked.

“Just good at hitting my mark,” he replied, eyes glinting.

——

Over the next few weeks

You started seeing more of him. Quiet coffee dates in the early mornings, texts when he was on tour, and late-night calls where you both sounded half asleep but didn’t want to hang up. He showed up once with bubble tea for your entire team, charming the hell out of everyone, even the captain.

The guys?

Oh, they were something else.

Namjoon was all questions about fire science. Jin tried to set you up with his cousin until Jungkook nearly choked on his own drink. Jimin called you “Mr. Fireman Sir” until you threatened to spray him with the hose. Taehyung wanted to try on your gear (he did—and took a hundred selfies). Hoseok and Yoongi? Surprisingly chill. Yoongi even gave you a nod of approval once. “You’re good for him,” he said simply. “Don’t mess it up.”

——

One night, after your shift

You came home late, exhausted, smelling like smoke and adrenaline. Your phone buzzed. Jungkook.

You okay?

Yeah. Just got off. You up?

Always. Come over.

You didn’t hesitate.

When you arrived, he met you at the door in sweats and a soft oversized hoodie. No makeup. No cameras. Just Jungkook.

“You look like you’ve been through hell,” he murmured, fingers brushing your cheek.

“You always say that like it’s a compliment.”

“It is. You run into burning buildings and still make my heart feel like it’s the one on fire.”

You kissed him then. Tired. Hungry. Grateful. Everything melted into that one kiss, slow and deep. He tugged you inside, and the door clicked shut behind you.

——

Later, lying tangled in his sheets

“You scare me sometimes,” he whispered against your skin.

“Why?”

“Because I’ve never wanted someone this much. And you do the most dangerous job in the world.”

You kissed the top of his head.

“I’ll come back to you. Every time.”

He clutched your shirt tighter.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

——

And you did.

Every time the bell rang and you rushed toward danger, he waited. He sent texts. He showed up at your station. And when he was on stage in front of thousands, his eyes searched for one face in the crowd—yours.

And when he found it?

His heart didn’t just race. It blazed.

Just like yours.

My main masterlist

[adore-laur]

CALIFORNIA DUSK

— birth of baby #2 in the dadrry universe 🌊

——

6:24 AM

California dawn brings serenity to the house. The sun is leisurely rising, painting the sky with wispy pink brushstrokes across an endless canvas of powder blue. Seagulls croon as they fly parallel to the hazy horizon, gracefully dipping their claws down in the water to catch their first meal of the day. Waves crash against the vacant ocean shore with persistence, as if to announce that morning has arrived once again.

Soon, golden rays will seep through the flowing curtains and cast shapes on the hardwood floors. The trees will start to sway from the coastal breeze, sending earthy scents of pine and cedar into the kitchen. Toys scattered in the living room from the night before will be left alone to wallow until their owner sleepily waddles from her bedroom with a yawn and an empty stomach.

A spoon clinks against the edge of a mug, echoing throughout the tranquil kitchen as chickadees sing their song near the window. Yet the current calmness of your surroundings doesn't quite match how you feel inside.

Being awake for the past two hours—hunched over the kitchen island and rocking side to side while breathing through painful cramping—isn't how you would've liked to commence your morning. Harry is brewing homemade coffee for himself since there's a high chance it will be a long, tiresome day ahead. He's been up with you since you started having contractions, and you tried to convince him to keep sleeping, but there was no way to persuade him since he's naturally an early bird. And you know he would never let you handle the discomfort alone.

Your daughter is still fast asleep in her room down the hall, oblivious to how soon she'll be a big sister. You're not looking to traumatize her at a young age, so Harry's mother is on her way to pick her up in case you give birth.

You've decided on a natural water birth this time. Being in the hospital for your first childbirth experience was tolerable, but the atmosphere gave you tremendous anxiety. The nurses hovering over you, the constant beeping of the machines, and the stale room all felt suffocating. You're confident you'll feel more at ease in the comfort of your own home, with only Harry and the midwife witnessing you in your most vulnerable state.

As the pain temporarily alleviates in your abdomen, you slowly straighten your posture and walk some laps around the living room. There's nothing you can do except hang tight and see if anything progresses. The contractions haven't gotten to the point of being unbearable, but they still beg the question of whether you'll be having a baby today. It's a waiting game.

Harry is surprisingly relaxed, and you suppose it's because this isn't his first rodeo. Seeing the difference in his composure compared to the first time you went into labor is humorous. He had clammy hands, was a stuttering mess, and also forgot to bring his driver's license when he drove you to the hospital.

Now, it's like he has never been more prepared for anything in his entire life. He could be hiding his nerves well, but otherwise, he's extremely put together as he whistles the "We Just Got a Letter" jingle from Blue's Clues that always gets stuck in his head because your daughter watches the show every morning. He's already dressed for the birth that might not even happen today—swim shorts for when he gets in the birthing pool with you and a faded graphic tee that looks like it has seen better days. His favorite blue baseball cap is snug on his head, covering his messy hair that curls upwards underneath. He looks casually gorgeous in the morning light.

After your tenth lap, you wander back to the kitchen and stand beside Harry as he drops two slices of bread into the toaster. He looks down at you and smiles.

"Hi," he says, leaning his hip against the counter. "Contraction over with?"

"For now," you reply dully. "I'm sure there'll be plenty more."

He jerks his chin toward the sink. "I want you to drink some water."

"I'm not thirsty."

"Please just drink one glass for me, baby," he says, opening the refrigerator and grabbing a jar of grape jam. "Let's not have a repeat of last time."

You roll your eyes and steal a cup from the drying rack. He clearly remembers when you vomited at the hospital just hours before giving birth. Yes, you were dehydrated, but that was the last thing on your mind.

As you sip cloudy tap water, you watch Harry silently spread jam onto his perfectly browned toast. He's been too quiet this morning—entirely cool, calm, and collected. You miss his delirious morning humor.

"You're scaring me."

Harry freezes with the butter knife in his grasp. "I didn't know your husband making breakfast was a fear of yours."

There it is!

"No, not that." You wipe off a glob of jam on his thumb. "You're just really relaxed right now."

Setting his toast on a plate, he turns to you with a crease between his eyebrows. "Should I be freaking out?"

"Well, I might give birth soon," you say, your heart rate increasing at the mere thought. "Doesn't that, I don't know, make you nervous?"

"Of course, I'm nervous," he replies, gently squeezing your shoulders. "I'm sure I'll be a hot mess once you're in full-on labor. I'm just enjoying the morning with you while you're still pregnant. You know... soaking it all in."

You release a shaky exhale, your mind spiraling as everything becomes more real the longer you talk about how you'll be a family of four very soon. "Okay," you whisper unconvincingly. "That makes sense."

Harry obviously doesn't buy it because he stares at you briefly before trapping your fidgeting hands with his own. "What's going on?"

"I'm freaking out," you admit weakly. Your voice wavers, and the lump in your throat is hard to swallow.

His face softens with sympathy as your eyes gloss over with tears. "Let's walk down to the shore," he suggests, kissing your forehead. "Just you and me before it gets crazy in here."

Sniffling, you ask, "What if I can't make it back to the house?"

"Then I'll carry you."

"Good luck with that," you mutter before grabbing your phone from the kitchen table. "Let's go while I have a break from contractions."

He nods, taking his plate and the baby monitor from the countertop, and then leads the way out the patio door.

During the short journey there, your heart blooms with fondness when you catch Harry smiling to himself as he walks, his tattooed arms swinging. It's too endearing not to keep as a permanent memory, so you open the camera on your phone and press record. The fresh air has rapidly lifted your mood, and you're thankful for it.

"What are you grinning about over there?"

Harry looks up and gives the camera a big, open-mouthed smile, pure excitement exuding from him. He's been waiting so patiently for another baby, and now it's slowly but surely becoming reality.

"What's got you so happy?" You laugh and stop recording.

He shrugs, still smiling contagiously. "I can't believe it's happening. It just hit me right now."

Both of you reach the sand and sit away from the lapping waves in case you have to head back to the house promptly. Harry places himself behind you, a position that's supposed to help when a contraction comes. You can hold onto his legs for leverage and support, and he can massage wherever you're hurting.

"I can't believe it either," you reply with a pensive shake of your head.

"Talk to me. How are you feeling?" Harry asks, taking a crunchy bite of toast. "Emotionally, I mean."

Talk to me. It's a three-word sentence he's been saying to you for years. He always wants to know how you're feeling whenever you bottle up your thoughts—anger, sorrow, or happiness. It has never changed, and it never fails to help immensely.

"I'm not as nervous as last time," you answer, closing your eyes when he starts playing with your hair. "I feel more prepared since I know what to expect, but it's terrifying that I'm doing it naturally this time."

He hums in acknowledgment. "That's completely valid. No one expects you to be one hundred percent confident when pushing a baby out, no matter how many times you've done it before. Just know that I'm eternally grateful that you've grown two beautiful babies for us. You're a superstar."

"Thanks. I just feel like—" You gasp suddenly, your hand quickly shooting to your side as another contraction hits.

"Okay," Harry says soothingly, grabbing your hand so you can squeeze his own. He quickly unlocks his phone to set a timer. "It's okay. Breathe with me."

You inhale and exhale through the internal pain, the tight cramping making you lean back against his chest. "Harry, it hurts," you cry as your other hand grips his knee. "Ow, ow, ow."

"I've got you. Just breathe through it." He lifts the hem of your oversized shirt and spreads his hand on your stomach. It's stretched beyond belief and has dropped significantly throughout the past week. "Focus on my breathing, all right? And relax your shoulders. They're too tense."

You breathe with him as he massages your lower back. Your face is getting hot and your throat is dry, but the only thing you can fully pinpoint is the penetrating pain.

"Tell me something. Please distract me."

Harry kisses your temple. "You look really pretty."

"Shut up," you mumble with a laugh that quickly turns into a groan of discomfort.

"I'm serious. I love how you look in the morning when the sun hits your face, like right now. It makes you glow even more than usual. And the way it brightens your eyes reminds me so much of our daughter." He turns your face so you're looking at him. "I see you in her all the time."

You smile weakly and rest your head on the dip between his neck and shoulder. "Yeah, but she has your bunny teeth."

His deep, comforting laugh vibrates against your back. "Mm, you'd be the one to notice that."

You just tiredly nod as the contraction subsides. You make a good guess that you're not close to labor yet because of how far apart and mild they've been so far. The midwife is only five minutes away, so there's no dire need for her to come and check on you.

"I think that one's done." You carefully sit up and release his hand. "How long was it?"

Harry checks his phone. "Forty-seven seconds."

"Short," you think aloud. "They've been irregular, so I think they might be Braxton Hicks."

He dramatically falls back onto the sand and spreads his arms out. "Does that mean no baby today?"

You snort and cuddle up next to him. "Soon. You have to be patient."

He's silent for a minute before asking, "Isn't sex supposed to induce labor?"

You scoff and swat at his chest. "I swear you asked me that last time."

"Oh, I definitely did. You rejected me and then literally didn't go into labor until a week later, remember? You should've listened to me."

"I don't think it would be enjoyable for either of us if we tried. I couldn't even walk down here without feeling like passing out."

Harry draws patterns on your belly with his finger, causing a response of fluttery kicks from the baby. "I know, I'm only joking. We don't have to be anywhere or do anything right now. Let's stay out here for a little bit, yeah?"

"Sounds like a plan," you mumble into his shoulder. The world around you drowns out like the shells under the waves as you focus on his heartbeat. The rhythmic thumping of your favorite part of him lulls you to sleep, his hand gently stroking your hair as time passes with each movement of the sun.

Your nerves wash away with each ocean tide, and you know everything will be all right.

——

7:03 PM 

The tub is ready.

You are not.

A shirtless Harry is already sitting in the circular birthing pool, looking like he's ready to deliver the baby himself. You've changed into your swimsuit and are now vaguely listening to what the midwife is telling you as you lean against the wall and suffer through another contraction—a particularly strong one that indicates you're going to start pushing soon.

Your water has already broken, and you're not quite sure why you're waiting until the very last second to get into the tub, but nothing in your mind is making sense due to the overwhelming pain. The bedroom is too small, the lights are too bright, the way Harry's dotingly looking at you is too much, and your body feels too weak even though it's about to perform the most vigorous exercise imaginable.

"We need you in the tub so I can check your dilation," says the midwife, snapping you out of your overthinking spiral.

"I-I can't," you reply helplessly. "I don't think I can do this. I don't want to do this."

You regret not just sucking it up and going to the hospital so they can inject you with an epidural.

"I am going to do everything I can to give you a safe and smooth delivery process," she assures you. "Your husband is waiting for you. He's going to be your support system the entire time, okay? Do you trust him to do that?"

You frantically nod your head—you've never trusted anyone more. "The water will help with the pain," she adds with a kind smile. "It will relax your muscles and make you feel very nice. Can you get in the tub for me? Harry will help you."

You look at him, seeing his slightly shaky hands beckon you closer. You swallow and take a deep breath before slowly approaching him. Equipment scatters the floor and the bed beside you—clean blankets, a tarp for the mess, towels, medical supplies, and a cup of ice.

Harry carefully helps you into the birthing tub, positioning you so your back is against his bare chest. Once you're situated in the lukewarm water, you focus on his heartbeat pounding double-time.

"I can't do this," you repeat as you slide your swimsuit bottoms off.

"Yes, you can," Harry says, kneading your shoulders. "It'll be so worth it. We'll have a baby boy or girl to hold tonight."

"I'm scared. What if something goes wrong? What if I can't handle the pain? What if I—"

"Hey," he scolds softly. "Please don't think like that. Remember last time? What did I tell you to do to distract yourself?"

"Count your tattoos."

"That's right. I've gotten quite a few more since then, so get to counting. Distract your mind from the pain. I'm not going anywhere."

You begin counting, starting with your name tattooed on his right thigh. You then grab his left arm and count all the small ones near his hand. The chrysanthemum on the inside of his wrist represents your daughter's birth flower, along with her date of birth written in cursive underneath. There's also the outline of a wave representing his home with you in California, where you built your life together. They all mean something near and dear to his heart.

The midwife brings you out of your trance when she leans over the pool and checks your dilation as Harry places comforting kisses on the back of your head. "You're about eight centimeters," she tells you after a few seconds of uncomfortable inspection.

"I feel like I need to push," you say timidly. "I feel the baby really low."

"We need to wait until you're ten centimeters," she replies. "If you can just hold out a little longer, it'll be much easier to push, okay?"

You nod and let out a long groan when the contraction moves from your lower back to your pelvis.

"Do you want your ice?" Harry asks.

"Yes, please."

He reaches behind him and grabs the cup filled with chipped ice. You begin chewing on a piece to cool your body temperature and force your brain to focus on something else.

Several minutes pass, with Harry whispering loving encouragements as the midwife talks you through what's about to happen. She allows you to exert tiny pushes while applying pressure to your abdomen. Everything goes in one ear and out the other, but you know the moment is almost here. There's no stopping now.

"Do you still feel like you need to push, honey?" the midwife asks, checking your dilation again.

"Yeah. Am I ten centimeters yet?"

"Just about. I'm going to have you push now."

You turn your head and stare at Harry with wide eyes. He messily captures your lips with his, then moves them near your ear. "I'm right behind you. Whatever you need, just let me know. If you need me to get out or scream at me—anything at all."

You look forward when the midwife parts your legs and encourages you to push using all of your strength.

The first push is the most agonizing. Your head throws itself back on Harry's shoulder as you grit your teeth and contract what feels like every muscle in your body. The midwife counts to ten, the seconds dragging on like minutes. Your face is scrunched up tight, and your legs are tense in the water. Harry softly counts in your ear, taking your left hand in his.

Breathe out for three. 

The second push feels like you're on fire, but not in a good way. The aching, cramping, and stinging pain shooting all over your body is borderline unbearable. It's felt externally, internally, and everywhere in between. You let a cry escape your mouth as the pain strikes your lower abdomen in full force. Harry kisses your ring finger and sets your hand on his heart.

Breathe out for three. 

The third push gets you the farthest. Your ringing ears distantly hear something along the lines of I can see the head, and you feel a sharp breath from Harry hitting your neck and a kiss behind your ear. When the midwife gets to number two, she pulls the head out. The burning sensation remains, but the most challenging part is out of the way.

Breathe out for three. 

The final push is when you give every ounce of energy you have left, squeezing both of Harry's hands so tightly that you're afraid you might break his bones. You're told to give your strongest and longest push, making your entire body rigid as you stop your breathing to make this the last one. Harry chants motivational words from behind you: They're almost here; you're doing so good; I love you. 

Then, all at once, there's release.

Relief.

Remission.

You quickly pull your baby up from under the water and cradle them against your heaving chest. You're shivering from the adrenaline, and your body feels bizarrely empty.

"It's a girl!" announces the midwife as she wipes and rubs her down with a towel.

The tears immediately fall. You hear Harry let out a quiet sob as he buries his face in your neck with trembling lips. With his forehead pressed to your skin, he sniffles while the sound of your baby girl's cries fills the room.

"Would Dad like to cut the cord?"

Harry nods and palms his tear-filled eyes. She passes tiny surgical scissors over to him and stretches the umbilical cord, showing him where to snip. He carefully moves out from behind you and releases an emotional breath as he opens the scissors, but he drops them in the tub because of his shaky hands.

"Sorry," he says with a choked laugh. He picks them up and tries again, successfully cutting the cord. The midwife cheers and begins setting things up for the after-birth process.

You cradle the back of your baby's head and cry with unspeakable happiness. "Hold her," you tell Harry now that she's detached.

He reaches his hands out, and you carefully pass her squirming body over to him. He seems almost lost in a trance for a second, but when her cries die down instantly once her skin meets his, he looks at you with the most breathtaking smile.

She clings to him like a lifeline, her cheek squished against his chest and her tiny hands spread on his collarbones. "Look," he whispers to you with watery eyes. "Look at her."

"I know. She loves you already."

His gaze is now focused on you, with an expression conveying so many emotions. You think he's never looked more beautiful.

"Thank you," he says.

Those two simple words are spoken with a heavy amount of sincerity. You know what they mean: Thank you for letting me be a father. Thank you for pushing through all the mental and physical changes again. Thank you for her. 

You smile and blink back more tears. "All in a day's work."

Harry shakes his head as his eyes dance over your face. "You're the strongest person I know. I've never seen anything more incredible than what you just did."

"Thank you for helping me through it."

"I always will," he says while stroking your baby girl's back with his large hand. It almost engulfs her entire body.

"Are you insinuating we're going to have more babies?"

"You know I'd have a million with you. You're fuckin' perfect."

You slap his arm lazily. "Don't swear."

He leans in until his forehead touches yours. "Give me a kiss."

"Your lips are dry."

He licks his lips, and you meet his mouth. He hums and grins into the kiss, pulling away from you with a glint in his eyes. "I love you so much," he murmurs before glancing at his daughter. "Both of you. My heart beats for my girls."

"I love you."

A tiny hand suddenly hits Harry's mouth. He sputters a laugh and grabs it, kissing it repeatedly until she lets out a gurgle. He laughs in disbelief and hikes her up to smell her head, the baby scent being one of his favorite parts about having a newborn.

"Already a daddy's girl," you slur tiredly, exhaustion finally catching up to you.

He puckers endless kisses onto her head. "Think I'll keep you forever, angel," he tells her. "Is that okay? Hmm? Gonna be my snuggle bug when I need it the most?"

Her eyes remain closed, and her lips smack as she lets out a silent cry. You look at Harry, and you find him absolutely mesmerized by her. Every small movement she makes, every change in facial expression, every noise that comes from her—he's watching it all with proud eyes and a permanent smile.

No other man would you want as your husband. No other man would you want to be the father of your babies.

——

8:40 PM

It's been a little over an hour since you gave birth, and since then, you've been moved to the bed after being cleaned up. You've just finished breastfeeding and now lie with her in your arms as you try to fall asleep next to Harry. He's still making calls to his loved ones to tell them the news, and each time he does, he gets emotional all over again when the person on the other line gasps or screams with joy.

He's wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, and part of his hair is held back with one of your daughter's pink butterfly clips. You're both running on empty but have never been more blissfully content as she sleeps, her body wrapped in a white swaddle and a baby beanie snug on her head.

The windows are open, letting the ocean breeze waft in and cool your body's dull ache. The midwife had been kind enough to bring you snacks, leaving ice water, a plate of crackers, and a bowl of strawberry yogurt for you on the nightstand. There was an instance when Harry asked for a spoonful of your yogurt, and when you fed it to him, some dropped onto your baby's cheek. You both broke into silent laughter until she got fussy from your movements. Or maybe it was from the cold dollop of yogurt on her sensitive skin. Either way, it was entertaining.

Now, you drift off beside him and feel the soft breaths of your baby girl on your breast as the linen curtains blow in time with the swelling waves meeting the shore.

"Are you awake?" Harry asks quietly after he ends another call.

"Barely," you whisper into his sleeve. It smells like heaven.

He kisses your temple and inhales deeply. "I just got off the phone with my boss. He says congratulations and to name her after him."

You release a laugh laced with drowsiness. "I don't think she'd appreciate being named after an ornery old man."

"True. That was the last call I needed to make, by the way." He scoots down the bed and gently nuzzles his head into your side. "Get some rest. I'll be quiet now."

"I don't want to miss anything," you say, even though your eyes have been involuntarily closing for the past ten minutes.

He lightly scratches up and down your arm. "She's sleeping, my love."

"I know, but what if she does something cute?"

"Then I'll wake you up."

"Promise?" Your eyes droop once again with overpowering fatigue.

"I promise." He seals it with a tender kiss on your shoulder. "You need—"

A knock on the bedroom door interrupts him and makes your head turn toward the sound. The knob jiggles for a few seconds before the door slowly opens with a creak to reveal your daughter standing there. She's holding her favorite blanket, her thumb tucked in her mouth. You assume Harry's mother must have just arrived and is letting her have some alone time with the both of you.

"Hi, lovebug," Harry says softly. "Come here. We've got a surprise for you."

She cautiously shuffles over to the edge of the bed and inspects the sleeping bundle in your arms. "Did you have fun with Grandma today?" you ask her.

She nods distractedly, her eyes still glued to the baby. Harry smiles and picks her up, setting her on his lap. "That's your baby sister," he explains. "You're officially a big sister now."

She looks at him. "Where?"

He lets out a breathy chuckle and shifts her closer to the baby. "Right here, sweetheart. She's sleeping, so you have to be quiet."

"Oh," she whispers. You and Harry exchange smiles.

"Isn't she pretty?" you ask.

"Yeah." Her voice is still a whisper as she pokes the baby's fists. "So little."

"She is," Harry says with a sniffle. "You were once that little. You have no idea how perfectly you fit in my arms."

You kiss her cherubic cheek. "Do you want to hold her?"

She glances at Harry as if to ask for permission, and he nods his head in encouragement. He positions her between the two of you, and then you maneuver the baby into her arms while ensuring the head is supported.

The sight is something out of a dream. How attentive she is to her new baby sister, admiring her like a delicate flower, examining her closely like a beautiful specimen, gently touching her nose and puckered lips. She keeps looking at you and Harry when the baby wiggles or makes a noise, a look of pure innocence and curiosity that brings more heartfelt tears to your eyes.

You eventually peel your gaze away from her and find Harry staring at you. A tear falls from his bottom eyelashes, his nostrils flaring from residual emotions hitting him. Reaching over, you thumb away the teardrop and focus on the bay window. The sun has dived below the darkening horizon, allowing stars to faintly dot the sky. Cicadas buzz in nearby bushes, and the night tides of the ocean collide with the sand that will soon be illuminated by the moon.

It's quiet in the bedroom, with nothing but the sound of soft breathing and the occasional coo from the baby. Your family of three is now four, and you've never felt more full of love. The world around you is serene, just like it was during the sunrise before she came into the world.

California dusk has brought you an angel.

——

[solitaryandwandering]

15 people, 15 questions

I was tagged by @wen-kexing-apologist (here) and @telomeke (here), always glad to arrive late to a tag game!

1. Are you named after anyone?

I share a middle name with my paternal and maternal grandmothers (and coincidentally with an aunt who married into the family). As for my first name, my dad used to tell everyone that I was named after Meg Ryan, who he had a crush on and my mom really disliked (unrelated to the crush). It's a slightly creepy story and entirely untrue. I believe in reality they just thought the name sounded nice and chose it over the alternative, Kate (thank GOD).

2. When was the last time you cried?

I honestly can't remember the last time I full-on cried. Usually I only really cry when reading, watching shows or films or otherwise engaging with emotions in that way. When I was visiting family in Ohio I was feeling pretty unlike myself and stifled (the majority of the family are Trump supporters or centrists, if that gives you any idea of the kind of stuff being said). Whenever I visit them and the attention turns to me, the only things they tend to focus on are my love of reading (which I can no longer do very often) and disabilities. I am the first to assert that I am not ashamed of being disabled but there's very little agency I feel around this group of people (and though I love my immediate family they weren't always very helpful), made all the worse by the fact that my sight has considerably worsened in the last year, so any and all attention and vicarious grieving was a bit more difficult to swallow this time around. So, the night before we left, I did sit in the bathroom and tear up for a bit. But, no crying! Legitimately, one of my intentions of the new year is to let myself fully feel my emotions so I can more consciously heal from more of my PTSD and be more mindful in my life, which necessitates more tears. Lots to unpack there.

3. Do you have kids?

No, and I'm unsure if I ever want any. Definitely don't ever want to be pregnant. But I do love kids a lot.

4. What sports do you play/have you played?

I consider myself to be naturally pretty athletic, despite it all. When I was growing up I played a wide myriad of sports, like tee-ball, ballet (is that a sport?), track (usually 200m), and volleyball, with lots of swimming, gymnastics, rock-climbing (usually in the context of hiking), basketball, baseball, and football thrown in there. I'm still pretty proud of the fact that I can throw a perfect spiral (though getting my hand around the football is a bitch). I used to do a decent amount of weight-lifting, too. I was asked to play rugby at one point in middle school by my history teacher but had to decline due to the risk to my cochlear implant. But by far my number one sport was soccer; I played 19 seasons before I graduated high school, though it was always on a club level. I was actually pretty good (and very fast), if inconsistent (Usher + ADHD + low confidence + toxic sports environment led to some apathy on my end). My nickname was "bulldog" because I was so effectively aggressive and quick. I usually played as a defender (all positions, but left-winger typically), though I was also a midfielder due to my speed. Pretty sure I played every position at least once. Only scored one goal, and it was not an auspicious moment lmfao. I really loved the sport, even if I was bullied/ostracized by many of the girls. Right now, I don't play sports and am in the worst shape of my life, so a 2024 intention is to slowly get back into exercising as regularly as possible, even if I can only regularly keep up with PT workouts.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

I am almost entirely made up of sarcasm and dark humor. I've had to soften this, though, since a large majority of people in my life are not super receptive to either due to either some neurodiversity or trauma.

6. What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Depends on the environment, haha. If it's crowded, loud and unfamiliar I am usually noticing people's position in relation to me, if they're looking at me, and if they're trying to say something to me. So, a lot of looking at people's mouths. Otherwise, I think I still notice people's proximity, their body language, their eyes and smile/facial expressions. I grock on to people's emotions pretty quickly so I notice their general mood, too.

7. What’s your eye color?

On the brown side of hazel. I actually think they're a pretty color, especially when sunlight hits them. Then they can look golden, with some streaks of green or copper.

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

Weird dichotomy, but ok. I'd say I largely prefer happy endings, especially if they're earned. I'd actually argue that some scary movies do have happy endings, just depends on your definition of "happy." I like horror quite a bit, especially as a genre to discuss and learn about, but my OCD does not enjoy watching them, so I am pretty particular about the ones I see.

9. Any talents?

Yes, I suppose? I think I am good at analysis, critical thinking, listening to others, media literacy/reading comprehension, coming up with creative ideas, and learning new things. I also like trivia, though it's been a long time since I really exercised that talent. I think I'm a pretty good writer, too. Really had to resist sarcasm and self-criticism, there.

10. Where were you born?

In a hospital in Northern Virginia, strangled by my umbilical cord and forcibly pulled from my mother with forceps.

11. What are your hobbies?

Watching BL and scrolling Tumblr, of course. But I also love watching films, in general, and reading media analysis and criticism. I also like reading social critique (that's my sociology degree talking) and lightly keeping up on psychological research in areas I'm interested in (trauma, sexual health, mental illness/health, developmental psychology, etc.) as much as I can. I also listen to a lot of podcasts (mostly fiction) and listen to music. Another intention for the new year is to slowly get back into reading books, however I can. And I also want to write more about BL on here :)

12. Do you have any pets?

Technically no - we have one dog which was passed on to us when my high school Braille teacher died, but she is with my dad, whom my mom is in the process of divorcing. He is holding on to her both as emotional support and collateral. So... I am not sure if I will see her again.

13. How tall are you?

Sort of average, around 5 ft 4 in

14. Favorite subject in school?

English, first and foremost. Followed by history (though my teachers usually were not great), most sciences (even if the mathematical sections caused some grief), and anything artistic or creative, such as a film studies elective I took in high school. In college I liked most of my psychology and sociology classes, thankfully, since those were my majors. Basically anything but math. I could always get behind the theoretical enjoyment of mathematics but (undiagnosed) dyscalculia REALLY made me suffer in those classes.

15. Dream job

If I ever get enough money and stability to do so, I want to go to grad school to become a clinical social worker. Otherwise, my actual "dream job" is to work in some way in media analysis, though I have no idea what that would entail or what it would look like.

Not tagging 15 people, I don't even know that many who would do something like this lol. Do if you want!

[teemoonley]

Brett Baty Francisco Alvarez Mark Vientos The Babies T-Shirt

The Brett Baty Francisco Alvarez Mark Vientos The Babies Shirt is a playful tribute to the New York Mets' rising stars. This royal blue tee showcases cartoon versions of Baty (#22), Alvarez (#4), and Vientos (#27) in baby Mets uniforms with oversized heads and tiny booties. The whimsical text "The Babies" highlights their youth and immense potential. Don't let the diapers fool you, these "babies" are sending the opposition to time out!

Each player is surrounded by toy blocks spelling "LGM" (Let’s Go Mets), with Alvarez lifting a red "F" block, adding a charming, daycare-meets-dugout vibe. A baseball replaces one block, grounding the design in MLB flair. Perfect for die-hard Mets fans, this bold, humorous Brett Baty Francisco Alvarez Mark Vientos The Babies Shirt celebrates the next generation making noise in the Big Leagues.

📦 Click and bring it home: Teemoonley

[teezill]

(via Marcell Ozuna Spotted Wearing Ozuna From The Braves Tee Shirt)

The meme became the moment. Straight from the dugout to the internet, Marcell Ozuna turned heads when he was spotted wearing the now-iconic “Ozuna From The Braves” Tee. Whether you’re here for the home runs or the humor, this shirt is your official pass to Braves fandom and baseball meme history.

[teejeepofficials]

The Sandlot x Toronto Blue Jays you’re killin’ me smalls baseball shirt

Hit a Home Run with The Sandlot x Toronto Blue Jays "You’re Killin’ Me Smalls" Baseball Shirt!

Are you ready to show off your love for classic baseball cinema and your favorite MLB team in one iconic garment? Dive into the ultimate fan apparel that blends the timeless charm of The Sandlot with the enduring spirit of the Toronto Blue Jays. This isn't just a shirt; it's a statement. Perfect for game days, casual outings, or just reliving your favorite movie moments, this exclusive tee from Teejeep.com is designed for true fans who appreciate comfort, style, and a touch of nostalgia. Get ready to experience unparalleled quality and design that celebrates two legends: The Sandlot and the Blue Jays!

Unveiling the Iconic Design: Why This Shirt is a Must-Have

This special edition "You’re Killin’ Me Smalls" baseball shirt masterfully combines beloved elements from The Sandlot with the unmistakable Toronto Blue Jays branding. Every detail is crafted to resonate with fans, ensuring that you wear your passion with pride.

A Fusion of Film and Fandom

The design prominently features the unforgettable "You’re Killin’ Me Smalls" quote, instantly recognizable to anyone who cherishes the classic film. This iconic phrase is seamlessly integrated with the Toronto Blue Jays' emblem, creating a unique visual narrative that speaks volumes about your fandom. It's a subtle nod to the movie's humor and heart, combined with a clear declaration of team loyalty.

Premium Quality for Ultimate Comfort

At Teejeep.com, quality is paramount. This baseball shirt is made from soft, breathable fabric that ensures maximum comfort whether you're cheering from the stands or relaxing at home. The durable print ensures that the design remains vibrant and intact, even after multiple washes, making it a lasting addition to your wardrobe.

Soft, high-quality material for all-day comfort.

Durable, fade-resistant print that stands the test of time.

Classic baseball tee silhouette for a relaxed, stylish fit.

Available in a range of sizes to fit every fan.

Embrace the Legacy: Celebrating The Sandlot and the Blue Jays

The Sandlot has transcended generations, becoming a cinematic masterpiece that encapsulates the joy, challenges, and camaraderie of youth baseball. The Toronto Blue Jays, meanwhile, hold a special place in the hearts of baseball enthusiasts, known for their thrilling games and passionate fanbase. This shirt brings these two powerful legacies together.

For the True Enthusiast: A Collector's Item

This limited-edition collaboration is more than just apparel; it's a piece of memorabilia that celebrates a shared love for baseball. It’s an ideal gift for:

Die-hard Toronto Blue Jays fans.

Devotees of The Sandlot movie.

Anyone who appreciates unique and stylish baseball-themed clothing.

Collectors of exclusive fan merchandise.

SEO Power: Get Noticed with Keywords

Our commitment to providing valuable content extends to ensuring this blog post reaches the right audience. We've optimized this post with keywords that connect fans directly to what they're searching for. Whether it's "The Sandlot baseball shirt," "Toronto Blue Jays fan apparel," "You're Killin' Me Smalls shirt," or "Teejeep exclusive designs," we've got you covered. This careful keyword integration helps ensure that when fans look for the best in unique sports and movie merchandise, they find Teejeep.com.

Conclusion: Your Game Day Essential

The Sandlot x Toronto Blue Jays "You’re Killin’ Me Smalls" baseball shirt is the ultimate blend of cinematic nostalgia and team spirit. With its premium quality, comfortable fit, and iconic design, it's a must-have for any fan. Don't miss your chance to own a piece of this unique collaboration and show your support for both The Sandlot and the Toronto Blue Jays in style.

Ready to Join the Team?

Get Your Sandlot x Toronto Blue Jays "You’re Killin’ Me Smalls" Baseball Shirt Today!

View this product and more on our social media:

Check us out on Threads!

Discover inspiration on Pinterest!

Follow us on X for updates!

[officalteeclover]

Nike Just Ls U It Baseball T shirt

Embrace the journey, even the "Ls," with the new "Nike Just Ls U It Baseball T-Shirt"! ⚾😂 This clever and humorous tee is a playful twist on a classic slogan, perfect for any baseball fan who knows that setbacks are just part of the game. It's a lighthearted nod to resilience and the path to growth.

Available in various styles (hoodies, V-necks, long sleeves, and more!) and a wide range of colors. Get yours today and wear your baseball wisdom with pride!

Shop now: https://teeclover.com/tee/nike-just-ls-u-it-baseball-t-shirt/

Hashtags:

#NikeJustLsUIt #BaseballLife #SportsHumor #BaseballFan #MLB #JustDoItTwist #EmbraceTheLs #SportsApparel #GraphicTee #TeeClover #BaseballCulture #Resilience #GameOn #FunnyBaseball #NewArrival Nguồn

[bramtees]

Get Noticed with the Hilarious "Me & You & Yo Mama & Yo Cousin Too" Shirt by Bramtees – Perfect for Humor Lovers

Are you searching for a funny, bold graphic tee that showcases your playful personality? The "Me & You & Yo Mama & Yo Cousin Too" shirt by Bramtees is the ultimate choice for those who love to make a statement and share a laugh. Combining humor, quality, and comfort, this shirt is a must-have for casual wear and social gatherings.

Why Choose the "Me & You & Yo Mama & Yo Cousin Too" Shirt by Bramtees?

1. Witty and Eye-Catching Design This shirt features a humorous phrase that instantly grabs attention. It's perfect for showing off your fun-loving personality and sparking conversations wherever you go.

2. Superior Quality and Comfort Made from soft, durable fabrics, Bramtees’ graphic tee ensures all-day comfort. The high-quality print remains vibrant through multiple washes, keeping your shirt looking fresh and funny.

3. Versatile and Easy to Style Ideal for casual outings, parties, or just everyday humor, this shirt pairs well with jeans, shorts, or joggers. Whether you're relaxing at home or out with friends, it adds a playful touch to any outfit.

How to Style Your Bramtees "Me & You & Yo Mama & Yo Cousin Too" Shirt

Create a laid-back, humorous vibe by pairing this tee with distressed jeans or athletic shorts. Finish the look with sneakers, baseball caps, or sunglasses for a fun, casual appearance. Perfect for casual hangouts, festivals, or making a bold statement.

SEO-Optimized Keywords for Maximum Reach

Funny graphic tees for men and women

Humorous streetwear shirts

Witty quote t-shirts online

Casual humor shirts for everyday wear

Funny graphic tees by Bramtees

Playful gift ideas for humor lovers

Shop the Best Collection at Bramtees Today

Bramtees specializes in fun, bold, and high-quality graphic tees designed to reflect your personality. The "Me & You & Yo Mama & Yo Cousin Too" shirt is a perfect addition for anyone who loves humor and wants to stand out effortlessly. Browse Bramtees’ full collection of funny graphic tees and find your new favorite conversation starter.

Final Thoughts

Add some humor and personality to your wardrobe with the "Me & You & Yo Mama & Yo Cousin Too" shirt by Bramtees. Whether you're out with friends or just want to spread good vibes, this shirt guarantees smiles and laughs. Get yours today and showcase your fun side!

More Design at Bramtees

[yahashop23]

Shop Fourth of July T-Shirts: Trendy Graphic Tees for Independence Day

Introduction

The Fourth of July is just arhttps://yahyaessentials.shop/ound the corner, and what better way to celebrate than with stylish, patriotic apparel? Whether you're hosting a BBQ, watching fireworks, or just showing off your American pride, Fourth of July T-shirts are a must-have.

In this guide, we’ll explore the best Graphic Tees to rock this Independence Day, where to buy them, and how to style them for maximum impact. Let’s dive in!

Why Wear Fourth of July T-Shirts?

Fourth of July isn’t just about fireworks and cookouts—it’s a time to express patriotism in a fun, fashionable way. Here’s why Graphic Tees are the perfect choice:

✅ Show Your Patriotism – Bold designs featuring stars, stripes, and slogans let you wear your pride. ✅ Comfort & Style – Soft, breathable fabrics keep you cool while looking effortlessly cool. ✅ Versatile Outfits – Pair them with jeans, shorts, or skirts for a casual yet festive look. ✅ Great for Group Outfits – Matching tees make for awesome family or friend squad photos!

Top Trending Fourth of July Graphic Tees in 2024

Want to stand out this Independence Day? Here are some of the hottest Fourth of July T-shirt designs this year:

1. Classic American Flag Tees

Timeless and always in style, these tees feature the iconic stars and stripes. Opt for distressed prints or vintage washes for a retro vibe.

2. Funny & Slogan Tees

Humor makes everything better! Look for witty phrases like:

"Land of the Free Because of the Brave"

"Too Lit to Quit" (with fireworks)

"America Runs on BBQ"

3. Vintage & Retro Designs

Nostalgic prints with faded colors and old-school fonts give off a cool, laid-back Americana feel.

4. Minimalist Patriotic Tees

Less is more! Simple designs with small flag logos or subtle red of shop fourth of july t-shirts white, and blue accents are perfect for a sleek look.

5. Glow-in-the-Dark & Metallic Prints

Stand out at night with tees that light up or have shiny foil details—great for fireworks viewing!

Where to Shop Fourth of July T-Shirts

Looking for the best places to buy Graphic Tees for Independence Day? Check out these options:

🛒 Online Marketplaces – Amazon, Etsy, and Redbubble offer a huge variety of styles. 🛒 Big Retailers – Walmart, Target, and Kohl’s have affordable, festive options. 🛒 Custom Print Shops – Websites like Custom Ink or Teespring let you design your own. 🛒 Local Boutiques – Support small businesses with unique, handcrafted designs.

Pro Tip: Order early to avoid shipping delays!

How to Style Your Fourth of July Tee

A great Graphic Tee deserves a killer outfit. Here are some styling ideas:

👖 Casual Day Look

Pair with denim shorts and white sneakers.

Add a baseball cap or sunglasses for extra flair.

👗 Dress It Up

Tuck your tee into a high-waisted skirt.

Layer with a denim jacket or red flannel.

🔥 Nighttime Fireworks Fit

Throw on a lightweight bomber jacket.

Accessorize with glow sticks or LED jewelry.

FAQs About Fourth of July T-Shirts

Q: What fabric is best for summer tees?

A: Cotton or cotton-blend fabrics are breathable and comfortable in the heat.

Q: Can I wear my Fourth of July tee after the holiday?

A: Absolutely! Many patriotic designs work year-round, especially vintage or minimalist styles.

Q: How do I care for my Graphic Tee?

A: Wash inside out in cold water to preserve prints, and avoid high heat when drying.

Final Thoughts: Get Your Fourth of July Tee Now!

With so many fun and trendy Graphic Tees available, there’s no excuse not to rock a stylish look this Fourth of July. Whether you prefer bold, funny, or subtle designs, there’s a perfect tee waiting for you.

Ready to shop? Browse the latest collections and grab your favorite before they sell out!

🎆 Happy Independence Day! 🎇

[newfashion01]

Houston Astros SpongeBob SquarePants 2025 Special Shirt Collection

Link Product: https://inspirdg.com/product/houston-astros-spongebob-squarepants-2025-special-shirt-collection/

Bikini Bottom Meets the Big Leagues: The Houston Astros SpongeBob SquarePants 2025 Special Shirt Collection

Where Baseball Meets Underwater Absurdity

The Houston Astros SpongeBob SquarePants 2025 Special Shirt Collection is a riotous fusion of MLB power and animated pop culture charm. At first glance, it’s a sunny homage to Nickelodeon’s iconic sea sponge, but look deeper and you’ll find something more—a bold experiment in fan gear, blending childhood nostalgia with Houston pride in a shirt that’s equal parts game-day essential and comic brilliance.

The front design of the shirt is delightfully subtle yet thematically genius. Rendered in SpongeBob’s signature porous yellow, the shirt is dappled with light green sponge spots, mimicking his classic texture. Centered boldly across the chest is “HOUSTON” in a spongy varsity typeface, balancing the visual wit with sports authority. The familiar Astros logo on the sleeve adds an official touch, anchoring this playful piece within the realm of authentic team merchandise. It's not just SpongeBob cosplay—it’s ballpark-ready whimsy.

Sponge-Worthy on the Back

It’s when you turn the shirt around that the collection’s character bursts to life—literally. A massive, full-face print of SpongeBob beams from the back with his trademark buck teeth, twinkling blue eyes, and an infectious grin that makes it impossible not to smile. Below his wide face sits a minimalist “ASTROS” wordmark, grounding the fun with just enough edge to remind you: this is still major league.

This is where the shirt’s genius truly comes through—it walks the fine line between cartoon hilarity and stylish fandom. It’s wearable on the streets, at the stadium, or lounging at home with a Krabby Patty in hand. The duality of front-facing restraint and back-facing exuberance gives it double the attitude, making it as versatile as it is fun.

Built for Fans of All Ages

Beyond the visual humor, the construction of the shirt is thoughtfully athletic. Made with soft, breathable fabric perfect for sunny Houston afternoons at Minute Maid Park, it ensures fans can wear their SpongeBob spirit without compromising comfort. The fit is modern and clean, with just enough stretch for a full seventh-inning stretch—or an underwater jellyfishing chase.

And let’s not forget the crossover appeal. Whether you grew up quoting SpongeBob or simply want to bring a little levity to your baseball ensemble, this shirt hits the mark. It caters to the young and the young-at-heart. It’s a reminder that fandom should be fun, and sportswear can have a sense of humor while still showing serious team love.

Final Thoughts: A Home Run of Happiness

The Houston Astros SpongeBob SquarePants 2025 Special Shirt Collection is pure joy in fabric form. It’s a sartorial wink to both Astros faithful and Bikini Bottom believers—a vibrant celebration of baseball, animation, and the kind of crossover creativity that makes you do a double take at the merch stand.

Whether you're shouting "Go ‘Stros!" or “I’m ready!” like SpongeBob himself, this shirt makes sure you look good doing it. In a sea of generic team tees, this one floats above the rest with sponge-like buoyancy.

[paulspicksshop]

Funny Colonoscopy Humor for Medical Professionals & Patients Raglan Baseball Tee http://dlvr.it/THZg72 #paulspicksshop #colonoscopy