#locker room vibes

[batnakednun]

[cementcornfield]

beat writers talking about ja'marr teasing joe in the locker room after the game 🥲

[fobnsfwdoodlesbackup]

what if cheerleader outfit Patrick and cheerleader outfit Joe kissed...... and they were both boys.............

Pete I know that's you 🤭

Bonus:

[bondageundertaker]

Practice Makes Perfect

Title: Part Four – The Dangerous Kind of Want Pairing: CM Punk x Reader (F) Rating: Mature (Emotionally intense with implied physical intimacy)

Word count: ~1000 Warnings: mutual pining, deep emotional angst, spiralling aftermath of intimacy, unresolved tension, avoidance, hallway confrontation, reader vulnerability, Phil being emotionally wrecked, implied age gap, dominant/submissive undertones, heartache, longing, and tenderness with claws.

Summary: It was only meant to be practice. But eight days after your first question — and just one since he touched you like you were his — you’re both spiralling. Haunted by what it meant. Terrified of how real it feels. And when you finally collide again, it’s clear: this was never just about curiosity. It’s about the fall.

@femdisa @stacys-momxx

Part 4/5

It was supposed to be harmless.

A kiss. A question. A joke.

You were just curious — or that’s what you told yourself. That’s what you told him. That’s what you wrote on the damn piece of paper, smiling like you weren’t already halfway in love with the sound of his voice.

It wasn’t supposed to get this far. Wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

You’d only wanted to learn, remember? Some harmless practice with a man you trusted. Someone safe. Someone who said all the right things. Who never touched you without asking.

But now?

Now you flinch when his name lights up your phone. Not because you don’t want to see it — but because you do. Because you want it too much. And it’s only been eight days.

Eight days since you first asked about kissing.

Five since you kissed him like you were born for it.

One since he made you come on his fingers in a dim corridor like your body had always belonged to him.

You thought you could handle it.

You were wrong.

Because now, he’s everywhere. In your thoughts, on your lips, between your legs. You can’t breathe without thinking of how he made you feel — how he looked at you like you were both the danger and the prayer.

And that terrifies you.

Because you know how you get. You don’t just fall — you plunge. You hand people your heart before they even know they’re holding it. And with him? It’s already done.

But he’s not texting. Not calling. Not lingering near catering.

And part of you is relieved. If he’s pulling back, maybe you can too.

But the other part?

The one that’s still shaking from the way he said your name?

That part is breaking.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

It was supposed to be a favour.

Some guidance. A little advice.

You were sweet. Curious. Too fucking innocent for a world like his — and you came to him.

He should’ve said no.

Should’ve laughed it off. Told you to ask someone else. Someone who didn’t have bruised hands and a bruised heart. Someone who didn’t look at you like a balm and a wound in the same breath.

But he didn’t.

Because from the second you said “Can I ask you something?”, he knew he was already gone.

And now?

Now you haunt him.

The locker room still smells like your perfume. His hoodie still holds the memory of your fingers tugging it tighter. His mouth still aches from the taste of your kiss, like a hunger he didn’t realise he’d been starving through.

He tried to be decent. God, he tried.

Told himself it was a one-time thing. That you were just figuring yourself out. That it meant nothing.

But you whispered his name when you came.

Not Punk. Not hey you.

Phil.

And it wrecked him.

Because he knows that name — knows what it means to say it soft like that, like a confession. Knows that it doesn’t belong in a corridor, or on a checklist. It belongs in something real. Something sacred.

Something he has no business reaching for.

You’re younger. Sweeter. Better. And whatever you think this is — he knows it started as a test, a practice run.

But now?

Now he can’t stop imagining what it would feel like to be your last kiss, your first fuck, your only everything.

And it’s killing him.

Because that’s not what you asked for. You wanted help. You wanted safe.

And he gave you temptation.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

The hallway is dim, quiet — the kind of quiet that makes everything louder. The echo of your footsteps. The thrum in your chest. The sound of your breath hitching when you round the corner and see him standing there.

Phil.

Leaning against the wall like he’s trying to pretend he wasn’t waiting. Hoodie zipped up to the chin, hands in his pockets, eyes shadowed like he hasn’t slept.

You stop. So does he.

A pause.

Then— “You avoiding me?” His voice is low, not accusatory. Just… tired. Worried.

You swallow. “I didn’t know what to say.”

“That makes two of us.”

Another pause.

“I didn’t think it would go this far,” you say quietly.

He nods. “Neither did I.”

You step closer. “It was supposed to be practice.”

His jaw tightens. “Yeah.”

“Just a few questions.”

“And now I can’t stop answering them in my fucking sleep,” he mutters.

That makes you blink.

He exhales harshly, scrubs a hand down his face. “I was just trying to help. But then you kissed me like I was your favourite sin. And I let you. I wanted to. I still want to.”

Your throat tightens. “I meant it to be clinical. I wanted control.”

“I know.”

“But now…” Your voice falters. “I feel like I gave you something I didn’t know I was giving. And I can’t take it back.”

He steps in — one, two — close enough that you can feel the warmth off his body. “Don’t.”

You look up, eyes shining. “I don’t regret it. I just— I don’t know how to want something and not be consumed by it.”

His breath catches.

“Did I push you too far?” he asks softly.

“No,” you whisper. “I just need to know… that when I fall, you’ll catch me.”

Phil closes his eyes like the words hit him too hard.

When he opens them, there’s nothing but tenderness there. And devastation. And everything in between.

“You already fell,” he murmurs. “And I’ve been standing here trying to figure out how to break your fall without breaking you.”

Silence.

And then your hand finds his.

His grip is warm. Steady. Real.

“Then hold me,” you say.

And he does.

Pulls you into his chest like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers again. Holds you like he’s trying to keep both of you from falling further — even though you both know it’s already too late.

[this-ass-is-eikonic]

when the fridge is happy, we’re all happy

[subsequentibis]

this is like a hall of fame dudes rock match and an excellent example of why mjf should have goons again. he works so good with a guy to bounce off of in a bro-y homoerotic way. he blows jt dunn a kiss. theyre Two Kings. it's everything.

[hunterrrs]

good vibes are back

[stormysunday98]

A compilation of player interview shenanigans from this season.

[pwhlminnesota]

[cementcornfield]

???

[starscelly]

i am genuinely mourning our locker room vibes and also begging for literally any decent defenseman to take some of the load off miro&harls!! we can’t have them doing 60 min games 😭 jim…. what Happened……

nils lundkvist breakout szn incoming UR NOT EVEN READY........

on a serious note. thomas. my good friend. tom. harls. can i call you harls. Please Sign a Damn Contract Before Its JUST Miro.....

[muirneach]

i know having a female coach is still unique and considered a novelty to the league but tnt going on about her ‘talking to the players on the bench’ and stuff like that’s unexpected and rare. hey you know thats like her job right

[cassmouse]

I actually really miss what I thought Yellowjackets was at the start 😭 coming into it through entirely pre-crash fan content then watching the first episode and GETTING that pre-crash content (looped in with a load of crazy ass shit) and thinking 'oh my god I could not have been more wrong' but I have this precious idea in my head of the teen drama I thought Yellowjackets was initially and I think I may actually yearn for it a little despite how good the actual show is

[babygirlspurgeon]

don’t talk to me im emotional about what a net positive effect jared spurgeon has had on the minnesota wild as a whole

[n1ightw1ng]

timjaydick dick measuring contest but it's escrimas vs bo staff vs crowbar/sword

[joelsfarabee]

anyways g*uthier is to us now what s*mmons is to the 76ers lmao