pittbull-enthusiast

[pittbull-enthusiast]

Sunburn (Modern!Hockey AU) Albert Dasilva x Reader

REWRITTEN FIC

Soo.. I am indeed back, sorta. I wanted to take the time and add/redo some of the things in this fic because I wrote it so long ago, and wanted to make some adjustments before I posted the second part (which will be out soon!) I know not a lot has changed, but oh whale!

Thank you and have fun!

Warnings: Swearing, very slight suggestive talk. Boys.

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Albert’s skates flew effortlessly on the ice beneath him, quickly changing directions when the small rubber puck would skid away. He breathed in the cold, damp smell of sweat and blood, relishing in the sound of hockey sticks colliding with the ice, grunts and yells of his fellow teammates, and the swift sound of his skates on the rink. Adrenaline pulsed through his body as he skated through the players, slamming one in the glass before skating off again. This was Heaven for him.

He came to an abrupt stop as the coach’s whistle signaled the practice game to an end. He pulled off his helmet and shook his head a bit, damp red locks getting even more messed up than before, when he was joined by three of his fellow teammates.

“Nice work out there today, Dasilva,” said Jack with a proud grin. “You're definitely one of my strongest players out there.” As captain of the high school hockey team, Jack Kelly had the most experience out of anyone there. A compliment from him was a big deal. 

 “Thanks, Kelly.” Albert replied with a confident smile. Race skated up too and nodded, affectionately ruffling Albert’s hair.

“Damn right he’s one of the best!” Race exclaimed. “You seen him play against Queens last week? He had em’ shakin’ in their skates!”

“And not in the fun way,” Romeo cut in suggestively. “Unless-“

“Woah woah woah!” Albert interrupted, putting his hands up defensively. “Shut up Romeo, I’m surprised they even let you in.” Albert smiled devilishly and continued, “You have to be at least 10 years old to enter, you know.”

Romeo’s jaw dropped in offense. “Listen Little Orphan Annie-” He started angrily.

“Little Orphan- You ass!” Race snarked, jumping to Albert’s defense. Race hooked his arm around Romeo’s neck and skated backwards, starting a playful brawl. Albert and Jack snickered as they silently watched the scene unfold, not bothering to step in.

“Seriously,” Jack leaned over to Albert, as Romeo waved his stick at Race in what he hoped was a threatening manner (it wasn’t). “I am real proud of how you’re doin’. Not to get sappy or anythin’.” He joked, bumping his shoulder. 

Albert smiled. “Thanks, Jack.” 

Jack nodded but then paused, looking thoughtful for a moment before focusing his eyes forward again.

 “Unrelated, but Coach wants me to pick a second assistant captain,” He continued, side eyeing Albert. Albert raised his eyebrow. “With the way you’ve been playin’, some say you could possibly make that position.”

Albert’s eyes widened. “What?”

Jack nodded. “Especially if you do well against Brooklyn this Friday. I heard some recruiters are gonna come to the next few games. They’re lookin’ for some star players.” With that, Jack smiled and winked at Albert’s stunned face, patting his back before skating away to the locker room. He narrowly missed a flying stick to the head as a result of the playful scuffle Romeo and Race were still in, and even though that stick instead collided with Albert’s knee, he could hardly snap himself out of the good mood the news put him in.

Albert tuned out most of the banter taking place in the locker room, much too engrossed in his own thoughts to care that Mush had stolen Spec’s glasses or that Romeo had somehow pissed Jo Jo off enough to get stuffed in his own locker again. Being the second assistant captain would put Al right in the line of sight of recruiters for the NHL, between the extra playing time and the big block lettered “A” on his left shoulder. It might impress her too. He added in his own head, trying to convince himself that it was an afterthought when he knew damn well it was the first thing his brain jumped to.

Shaking his head of the thought, Albert dazedly hoisted his hockey bag on his shoulder and walked out with Race, only half-paying attention to the story he was telling about some outdoor hockey scuffle he had gotten into. 

“This guy was a real bruiser too, you knows how them Brooklyn boys are. He had been messin’ with Jo Jo the entire game, so I shoved him right into the bench! I mean it was just a friendly game too, no need for tha-” Race paused at Albert’s lack of response. 

“Hey, fire crotch, are ya even paying attention?”

The answer was no. Albert was not paying attention. Not to Racetrack, anyway. His eyes were glued on the only thing that could possibly snap him out of his trance that Jack had put him in, besides possibly Wayne Gretzky himself; a h/c haired girl walking happily with Katherine holding posters to hang up around the stands. She was smiling widely at something Katherine was saying, and Albert nearly lost his breath when she tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. Race’s eyes slowly followed Albert’s line of sight, and then a slow smirk grew across his face.

“Admiring Miss Y/n again, I see.” He said cheekily. Albert flushed pink and ran a hand through his hair, clearly embarrassed by the comment. 

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout Racer.” He replied snootily, picking up his pace towards the door. Race raised an eyebrow and glanced back at the pretty girl who was now hanging a banner at the entry of the rink, before jogging to meet up with Al and stopping him again. 

“Right,” He drawled skeptically. “You’s either making googly eyes at Y/n or Snyder, and something, call it a gut feelin’, tells me it ain’t him.” 

Both boys looked to the left of the girls and saw Snyder, the school security guard, aggressively attempting to fix their drinking fountain. Grumbling threateningly at the inanimate object, he finally threw his wrench against the fountain in frustration causing it to spray him directly in the face with water, drenching his already stringy hair. Albert cleared his throat. 

“How do you know I don’t have the hots for Snyder?” He quipped, hoping to deflect the inevitable conversation. 

Race dramatically rolled his eyes and threw his hands in the air. “Oh give me a fuckin break-”

“He’s quite the voluptuous man you know,” Albert butted in, now fully smirking at his own joke. “I don’t mind a little more to love on a guy in bed.” 

Racetrack fake gagged at the implied innuendo. ”You’s disgusting. Not just for that image of you and Snyder either, you perv. I can’t believe you just used the word ‘voluptuous’ seriously.” 

Albert snickered. “I’m a serious kinda guy.”

“Seriously in love with Y/n, you pussy. Stop deflecting.” 

“Deflecting?” Albert gasped, dramatically placing a hand over his heart, mock offendedness oozing from his tone. “I would never!”

“If you ain’t deflectin’ then I’m Whoopie Goldberg.” Racetrack replied, before giving Albert a particularly alarming smirk. “‘Sides, you’s and I both know who you’d rather see in bed.” Albert felt his face get hot at the image that was put in his head and punched Race, although clearly not hard enough as the boy was still giggling evilly. 

Rolling his eyes, Albert glanced back in the direction of Y/n, his heart fluttering. She really was beautiful, inside and out. He couldn’t understand why anyone wouldn’t take the opportunity to admire everything about her. 

“Jesus Al, you’s provin’ my point right now!” Race exclaimed, yet again interrupting his thoughts. Huffing, Albert turned back to look at his best friend.

“SO WHAT if I’m staring at her Race-”

“AHA!”

“-it’s not MY fault she’s attractive-“

“I knew it!”

“-I mean I have EYES for fuck’s sake-”

“Big red heart eyes!”

“And-no! She’s just a friend!”

“Oh sure, SURE, she’s ‘just a friend’-”

“Because she is!”

“No ‘friend’ makes Albert Dasilva as flustered as ya are now, Al.” He chided in a sing-song voice. Albert rolled his eyes and pushed Race’s head while Race cackled and tried to swat his hand away. 

“If that’s right,” Race started, “Then you wouldn’t mind if I just, you know, called her over-”

“Wait-”

“HEY Y/N!” Albert groaned and whipped his head around to where she was standing, his heart skipping a beat when she looked over and beamed, briefly making eye contact with Albert and... did her cheeks turn a little pink? Nah, Albert decided. She was farther away than he was, it must’ve been a trick of the light. 

“Hey, fellas!” She called happily, carefully stepping down from her ladder and jogging over. “How was practice today?” 

“Oh, you know, it was a total breeze.” Race said with a grin, his answer obviously clashing with their sweaty appearances. “Right, Al?” Race nudged Albert’s side and he nodded, trying to pull himself together enough to attempt a verbal response. 

“Ahem- yeah, totally. Complete lightwork.” He coughed out, managing a smile. She must’ve thought he was a total moron. Albert knew that Y/n has seen absolutely no evidence to prove his reputation in school as a confident, suave jock. His quick witted comments were famous for getting him into some harmless trouble, and yet here Albert was; a complete, blubbering idiot. 

Y/n quirked her eyebrow suspiciously. “If it was so easy,” She countered, looking specifically at Albert, “Then why’re ya cheeks so red? Looks like a hard day of practice for you boys to me.”

“Nah, that’s just Albert.” Race said with a wink. Albert shot him a look and turned to (Y/N), who had an amused look on her face. 

“Well I, uh… erm.. sunburned.” Albert stuttered, trying to ignore Race’s look of utter disgust at the excuse out of the corner of his eye. 

“I keep tellin’ ya, Al.” Race taunted. “You gotta put that SPF shit on every day, you sweet little gingersnap, you.”

“Why don’t you go wait in the car, Whoopie?” Albert snapped with a pointed look at Race, and Y/n giggled. Watching her two friends interact was always the highlight of her day, whether it was on or off the ice.

“Fine. Fine! I can tell when I’m not wanted. I’m just sayin’, body’s a temple.” Race said dramatically while walking away towards the car. Though, not before giving Albert a wink and making a heart with his hands behind Y/n’s back as he walked away. That little-

“You guys are ridiculous.” Y/n interrupted Albert’s thoughts, and he realized he probably was scowling in Race’s direction. Quickly fixing his face, he scratched the back of his head and unconsciously stepped closer to her. 

“Yeah, so I’ve been told.” He grinned. Y/n tilted her head up a bit to meet Albert’s eyes, and she couldn’t help but admire the charming curve of his smile, still present even as he was clearly out of his element, the “sunburn” still very prominent on his cheeks. This boy is too handsome for his own good, she mused inwardly. 

“Mmm. You’re gonna be playing in the game next Friday, right?” She asked hopefully. She was blissfully aware of how flustered she was making Albert at the moment - not that it was hard - and how cute it was to see him stumbling over his words for her. Y/n nearly died right then and there when he bit his lip and nodded his head. 

“Yeah, I’ll be playing for most of the night.” He answered. “Between you n’ me, Jack is considerin’ makin’ me the other assistant captain. He mentioned that some recruiters might be there too.” Smiling nervously, he picked at the handle of his bag, looking down. “I gotta play my best if I want that position.”

Y/n brightened even more, if that was even possible. 

“Albert, that’s wonderful!” She exclaimed, grabbing his arm excitedly and jumping a little. Albert laughed softly at her enthusiasm. “There is no doubt in my mind that you’re going to get it. You’re such a great player, Jack would have’ta be a downright idiot if he didn’t pick you!”

“Ah,” Albert said bashfully. “I don’t know about that.” 

“Well, I do.” She stated with finality, a smile still playing on her lips. When he didn’t say anything, she squeezed his arm and leaned forward, picking up on his underlying insecurity. “Albert.” 

He looked up and raked his eyes up her face, drinking in every dip and curve. Not even Michelangelo could sculpt something as heavenly as her, he thought. Michelangelo simply couldn’t capture her captivating aura, the genuine look in her eye that made his knees weak. Albert’s eyes finally locked with hers, and he decided not to acknowledge the double bass drum that was his beating heart. 

“You will get it. And all you’re gonna do is show Brooklyn and those recruiters how talented you really are.” 

She tilted her head, one side of her lips quirking up gently. She wanted to tell Al just how much he meant to her. That anyone that didn’t see that he was clearly a star, a player with a heart of gold and a smile that makes her want to melt into a little puddle of nothingness was a righteous idiot. 

They held eye contact for another moment, before Albert felt his blush, er, sunburn, deepen. He coughed awkwardly, breaking the silence.

“Will, uh, will you be there?” 

Y/n fully beamed now, her eyes twinkling. “I sure will. I gotta go to the games anyways for ASB, but I um,” Keeping the one hand resting on his (rather built, if she does say so herself) bicep, she used the other to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’d go watch you play anyways, even if I wasn’t gettin’ graded on it.”

His heart thrummed faster. She didn’t say ‘them,’ as in the team. She said ‘you,’ as in him, Albert Dasilva. Oh god. He had to say something, anything to make her realize how much he loved that. Should he say something flirty back? Confess? Ask her out on a date? Propose?

“Oh.”

Albert closed his eyes and mentally facepalmed. What the fuck was that? At this rate he had a better shot at breaking into Fort Knox with a pipe cleaner. As his cheeks flushed an even deeper red, Y/n smirked and stepped even closer, raising a hand to his face.

“Damn, Dasilva,” She said, gently rubbing her thumb across his cheek. “Your sunburn is gettin’ worse by the second.” 

Albert’s heart was pounding against his chest as he maintained eye contact with Y/n. Her palms were soft against his cheek, and the gentle but mischievous smile playing on her lips made him question whether or not his rapidly beating heart was really just a love-induced heart attack. She was so close, he could feel her breath fanning slightly over his face, her lashes fluttering as she moved her eyes over his features. The way she so tenderly caressed his face couldn’t possibly be a “just friends” thing, right? Not when he knew he was looking at her like he wanted to kiss her senseless in front of half the school.

Now was his chance.

Leaning forward ever so slightly, he glanced down at her lips and-

“Hey, Y/n! I could really use your help over here!” Katherine’s strained call cut in on the tension between the two. Albert looked over Y/n’s shoulder as Y/n took her hand off his face and turned around. 

“Oh God, she’s gonna fall,” She muttered under her breath.

Katherine was leaning far off the top of the wobbly ladder she was currently standing on, about to fall in an attempt to pin a large hockey banner up by herself. Before he could offer to help, Y/n’s eyes widened and she looked back at Albert with nothing but regret written all over her features.

“I’m so sorry, I gotta help her with that,” She rushed out apologetically, before running off to help her friend. “I’ll see you later, Dasilva!” She called over her shoulder.

“Yeah..” He murmured disappointedly, watching as another student quickly joined Y/n in helping Katherine down.

Well, fuck.

After standing there like a fool for a whole minute, Albert walked outside to his car where Race was waiting for him (im)patiently. Cursing himself for his missed opportunity, he threw his bag in the trunk, slammed it shut and moved towards the front of the car. Plopping himself rather aggressively in the driver’s seat, Albert slumped his head against the steering wheel and didn’t bother to move.

“Went that well, huh?” Race remarked sarcastically, looking at Albert with a raised eyebrow. He leaned closer, feigning observance.

“Hey, at least your sunburn’s lookin’ a lot better. What, you got some aloe in your pocket or somethin’?” Albert groaned miserably and Race rolled his eyes. “Do I wanna know what happened?” He asked. 

“Depends, Mr. Helpful,” Albert quipped sarcastically, head still on the steering wheel of his car. “How well can you handle what an idiot I am?”

“Try me.” 

Albert drew out a heavy sigh and reluctantly explained to Race what occurred just minutes before. 

He wasn’t surprised when Race yelled, “‘Oh’? That’s all you had to say to that? ‘Oh’?”

“I know, it’s bad-”

“Bad? Bad? You’ve surpassed ‘bad’ Al, we’re at fuckin’ catastrophic!” Race ran his hands down his face in frustration, before looking back at his best friend.

“Listen Al, watching you two pine after each other for the first few months was real cute, but this is gettin’ painful. Just stop beatin’ ‘round the bush and ask her out already.”

Albert blinked, affronted. “I am not cute.” Race cracked a devilish smile.

“Oh yes you are, my sweet little gingersnap,” He declared, pinching Albert’s cheek mockingly before Albert smacked his hand away. “And you’d be a whole lot cuter if you just grew some balls and asked her out!”

Albert rolled his eyes and started the car. “What’s it to ya, anyways, Racer?” He asked irritably, turning the steering wheel to back out. “S’not your relationship.”

“So you admit there’s a relationship?”

Albert shot Race a dirty look. Sighing, Racetrack folded his arms.

“Okay, but if you’s get together by the end of the month I get twenty bucks from like, half the team, so you need’ta plant one on her soon.” 

Albert fully turned to give Race a look that seemed to be a mixture of disgust and slight admiration.

“You fuckin’ gambling addict.”

Race just rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I’m the gamblin’ addict and you’re the asshole who won’t admit that you and Y/n are BEYOND havin’ the hots for each otha’. Looks like we both have our faults.”

Grumbling, Albert tried to distract himself by backing out of their parking spot. “She probably doesn’t even like me like that anyways, Race. She’s probably just bein’ nice; a supportive friend and all.”

“Just bein’- Albert you’re getting dumber by the second.” 

“Says you.” 

“I’m gonna choose to ignore that comment outta the kindness of my heart,” Race retorted. “Are we back at you denying this entire situation again?” 

“What situation?”

“Shut up and drive, idiot.”

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@dontjudgemepeepswrites @xlostinobsessionsx @aphrcditeee

[pittbull-enthusiast]

Omg "Sunburn" is so cute! 😍 Are you writing a second part, too?

Honestly, it’s been so long since I’ve been active on here or even written anything, but if I do end up writing a part two, I’ll tag you if you like!

[pittbull-enthusiast]

please write a part two to sunburn it was so amazing it literally added one hundred years onto my life

AGH You’re so sweet thank you!!😊 I’ll try and work on some more imagines ASAP (including a part 2 to Sunburn), I’ve been stuck in summer school and before that I had finals, so I’ll get crackalackin on that for ya! Thank you so much again!

[pittbull-enthusiast]

njkoijvhgfddserer that Albert imagine you wrote is so cute, I'm in love

Oh my goodness, thank you so much! That makes me so happy, I was worried because not a lot of people liked it so much since it was kind of different😅 Do you think it deserves a part 2?

[pittbull-enthusiast]

Drabble - Spot Conlon x Reader

One can never have enough Spot Conlon fics, so I’m just gonna drop this one right here;)

Warnings: Bit of a makeout-sesh. Oops

__

A thick fog had settled itself all along the streets of Brooklyn. It was bitterly cold and wet out, and the dark grey clouds that had settled itself above the city suggested that a heavy rain was coming. One’s breath came out as white puffs whenever they exhaled, and if they didn’t have gloves or earmuffs, their fingers and ears could be seen as a bright pink due to the frigid cold. This, however, didn’t seem to stop the city’s normal hustle and bustle. Stores were still being frequented, horses were still pulling their carriages, and the Brooklyn newsboys were still trying desperately to sell some papers.

Spot Conlon hated the cold. He also hated fog, damp streets, and pink fingers and ears. Thunder rumbled in the distance and Spot adjusted the brick red scarf around his neck, feeling utterly disgruntled. Selling papers in this kind of weather was hard for newsies, even for someone as talented at selling them as Spot was. Huffing, he looked over to his selling partner.

“Are you’s almost done sellin’ your papes yet, Sneak?” He called. The sandy-haired boy looked over from his place at the lamp post and nodded, and Spot internally sighed in relief.

“A’ight, good. I want you and the boys back at the Lodge as soon as possible, it looks like it’s gonna start rainin’ soon. This weather is gonna give you hiprothem.. hippo.. hyro..”

“Hyperthermia, Boss?”

“Yeah, whatever.” Spot grumbled. “I don’t want you’se gettin’ sick.” Sneak tried and failed to hide his look of delight at his slip-up and Spot shot him a hardened look. The boy quickly looked away and started shouting a headline, and Spot chuckled lightly to himself.

His amusement was short lived, however. Thunder cracked again and heavy rain started falling from the sky, leading everyone to start running for some kind of shelter. Spot stood amidst the chaos and looked up at the sky with what could only be described as an irritatingly offended look on his face.

Spot Conlon hated the rain, too.

__

Spot walked in the Lodge and shrugged off his coat and scarf. It was raining pretty hard out now, so he was relieved to see that most of his boys were already inside and warming up. Cold newsies meant complaining newsies, and quite frankly, Spot didn’t want to deal with complaining newsies.

“I don’t care if Hotshot drinks it all the time, Keys, you’se still too young to be drinkin’ this kinda stuff.”

Spot looked over at the kitchen area where the soft Brooklyn accent was coming from and smiled. (Y/N) was standing over a much younger newsie with one hand on her hip and the other holding what looked like a bottle of whiskey.

“But Queenie, Hotshot let me have some the otha’ day-”

“He what?”

Spot walked over and put a hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder, which had tensed at the discovery of Hotshot’s irresponsibility with little Keys. She looked up when she felt Spot’s hand and the expression on her face softened.

“Easy, doll.” He said quietly. She nodded and faced the little newsie in front of her again, who looked very upset at the shocked tone she had used.

“Am- am I in trouble?” He asked. He was wringing his newsboy cap in between his little hands and Spot gave the kid a gentle side-smile at the action. (Y/N) wrung her cap in her hands when she was nervous too.

“‘Course not, darlin’,” (Y/N) said while scooping up the boy and placing him on her hip. “S’not your fault you didn’t know, ‘specially if Hotshot told ya you could have some. It’s just really not good for your body, and you wanna grow up big n’ strong, right?” The little boy nodded happily. 

“Just like Spot!” He exclaimed cutely.

(Y/N) chuckled and glanced at Spot, who had on one of his rare smiles. “Yeah, just like Spot.” She set the boy down and ruffled his hair. “Why dontchya go play with Mikey for a bit, hm?” He nodded and excitedly sprinted away. Spot watched him go and then turned his attention to (Y/N), who quickly shoved the bottle of whiskey in a drawer.

“You’re drippin’ wet, Spot.” She said chidingly, but Spot didn’t miss the hint of concern in her voice, too.

“‘M fine, doll,” He said, wrapping a strong arm around her waist. “Just didn’t feel like sprinting back when it started rainin’ is all.”

(Y/N) brushed her fingers through his wet hair and sighed. “Still, you could get a cold. We’re going upstairs to get you changed.”

Normally, Spot hated when people told him what to do. His newsies knew that, the other boroughs knew that, and (Y/N) knew that. However, (Y/N) did it anyways and wasn’t afraid of the consequences when she did so. It’s one thing that had drawn Spot to her so much in the first place. So, Spot nodded and followed her upstairs to his room. He knew better than to object anyway, (Y/N) could get quite fired up when it came to his health.

When he walked in the room, (Y/N) had already tossed another pair of pants and socks on the bed and was bent over digging through a drawer to find a shirt. After closing the door, Spot smirked and started stripping down his layers, admiring the… view.

“Stop starin’ at my ass, Conlon.” She said without turning around. Spot could still hear the smile in her voice and laughed.

“Sorry, doll.” He said cheekily while hopping to get his pants on. “Can’t help myself sometimes.” Waiting back a few more seconds, he slid his socks on and leaned back on the bed frame, staring and biting his lip. His brow furrowed in contemplation for a moment before finally making up his mind. Then he swiftly strode over to the cabinet where (Y/N) was still digging to find a shirt and placed both his hands on her hips, making her spin around and meet him nose to nose.

“Heya, Beautiful.”

“Heya, Handsome.”

The rain could still be heard hitting the roof harshly, but Spot didn’t really mind the sound. He was too focused on the feeling of (Y/N)’s hands sliding up his bare chest and moving to play with the damp hair at the back of his neck. He rested his forehead on hers and brushed their noses together, looking subtly down at her lips.

“I really ‘ppreciate you, doll, ya know that?” He murmured.

“Yeah, I know.”

He brushed a thumb over her hip. “Yeah?”

She hummed and slid one of her hands up in his hair. “Yeah.”

They stood there a moment, breaths intermingled, listening to the hardened pitter-patter of the rain. Then Spot leaned in and barely brushed his lips against hers. Her grip on him tightened and she met him forward with a deeper kiss, pulling him flush to her body. Spot’s hands tightened around her hips and he slowly walked her backwards so her legs hit the cabinet she had been digging through earlier.

“What if someone comes in?” (Y/N) breathily murmured against his lips, showing no sign of wanting to stop what they were doing.

“Then to hell with ‘em,” Spot mumbled, running his hands past her hips. “They should’a learned to knock.”

(Y/N) chuckled quietly at his remark and Spot smirked, squeezing her ass and then moving lower to lift her legs so that she was sitting on the cabinet. (Y/N) laughed.

“Eager, are we?”

“Only for you, doll.”

Smiling, (Y/N) reconnected her lips with his and continued to heat up the kiss, grabbing at his hair while Spot ran his hands up and down her torso, enjoying the little hums (Y/N) would make when he gently squeezed her hips or breast. Kissing her was Heaven for him.

Spot had just begun to nibble on (Y/N)’s neck when the room door swung open, revealing a now incredibly flustered Sneak.

“Ah!” He yelped, and Spot rested his head on (Y/N)’s neck, sighing heavily and praying to God for some patience. Then he lifted his head up to look at Sneak.

“Yes?” He said impatiently, his grip never loosening around (Y/N)’s waist.

“I uhm.. I- Hotshot said ta come ‘n get you’s..”

“Did Hotshot say why you’s needed to get me?” Spot said with a raised eyebrow, and (Y/N) snickered.

“Uh, somethin’ ‘bout not being able to find his whiskey..”

Spot grumbled something incoherent and (Y/N) rolled her eyes.

“We’ll be down in a second.” She informed him, her voice laced with disappointment. Sneak nodded and awkwardly made his way out the door, muttering a “sorry” as he went. When he was out of earshot, (Y/N) started giggling and rested her head on Spot’s bare chest, trying to recover from her sudden fit.

“Why’re you laughing?” Spot demanded, trying to lean down and look her in the eyes. She continued laughing and lifted her head up, moving her hand to cover her mouth as she continued to let out rather adorable giggles.

“Hey, why’re ya laughing?” Spot asked again, this time smiling and letting out a laugh at the end of his sentence as he looked at the state (Y/N) was in.

“‘M sorry,” She managed, now moving her hands to his broad shoulders. “You’s were just so mad when he came in-”

Spot snickered and the two calmed down and made eye contact for a moment, before making busting out into laughter again.

“Okay, okay,” Spot finally said, catching his breath and looking at (Y/N) in the eyes. “I should probably go handle whateva is goin’ on down there with Hotshot.”

(Y/N) nodded and leaned in, pecking Spot on the lips once, twice, three times before hopping off the cabinet.

“Go ahead, I’ll be right down.” She told him. Spot nodded and made his way to the door. He had just walked out when (Y/N) had called him back.

“Hey, Conlon!” Spot poked his head back in the door and was hit in the face with a white shirt. “You forgot your shirt.” She said, smirking. Spot chuckled.

“Thanks, doll.”

[pittbull-enthusiast]

Sunburn (Modern! Hockey! AU) - Albert Dasilva x Reader

Part 1

Oh my gaWD!!! I read this post and I totally got inspired by it, so I just had to write it out! As a self-proclaimed hockey freak and lover of Albert Dasilva, I just couldn’t resist ;)

https://graylier.tumblr.com/post/178226887046/so-i-read-something-about-hockey-player-albert-and

Warnings: Some language and like, one innuendo?

—

Albert’s skates flew effortlessly on the ice beneath him, quickly changing directions when the small rubber puck would skid away. He breathed in the cold, damp smell of sweat and blood, relishing in the sound of hockey sticks colliding with the ice, grunts and yells of his fellow teammates, and the swift sound of his skates on the rink. Adrenaline pulsed through his body as he skated through the players, slamming one in the glass before skating off again. This was Heaven for him.

He came to an abrupt stop as his coach called the practice game to an end. He pulled off his helmet and shook his head a bit, his red locks getting even more messed up than before, when he was joined by two of his fellow teammates.

“Nice work out there today, Dasilva,” said Jack with a grin. “You’s definitely one of my strongest players out there.” Jack Kelly was the team captain for Albert’s high school hockey team, and he had the most experience out of anyone on the there. A compliment from him was a big deal.

“Thanks, Kelly.” Albert replied with a confident smile. Race skated up too and nodded, affectionately ruffling Albert’s hair.

“Damn right he’s one of the best,” Race exclaimed. “You seen him play against Queens last week? He had em’ shakin’ in their skates!”

“Yeah, just like you had me shakin’ the other ni-”

“Dammit Romeo, why’d you have ta come in and make it weird-”

“It’s not like you’re any better-!”

The boys continued to banter as they made their way to the locker room with a chuckling Albert and Jack behind them.

-

When they were done changing, Albert hoisted his hockey bag on his shoulder and walked out with Race, only half-paying attention to the story he was telling about some outdoor hockey scuffle he had gotten into.

“This guy was a real bruiser too, you knows how them Brooklyn boys are. He had been messin’ with Jo Jo the entire game, so I shoved him right into the bench! Man, you should’a been there! The look on his face was- hey, are you paying attention?”

The answer was no. Albert was not paying attention. Not to Racetrack, anyway. His eyes were glued on a (H/C) haired girl walking happily with Katherine holding what seemed to be posters to hang up around the stands. She was smiling widely at something Katherine was saying, and Albert nearly lost his breath when she flipped her hair to the other side of her head. Race’s eyes slowly followed to where Albert’s were trained, and then a slow smirk spread across his face.

“I see you’re admiring (Y/N) again, Al.” He said cheekily. Albert flushed pink and ran a hand through his hair, clearly embarrassed by the comment.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout Racer, she’s just my friend. Nothin’ else.” Race raised an eyebrow and glanced back at the pretty girl who was now hanging a banner on the entry of the rink.

“No ‘friend’ makes Albert Dasilva as flustered as ya are now, Al.” He chided in a sing-song voice. Albert rolled his eyes and pushed Race’s head while Race cackled and tried to swat his hand away.

“If that’s right,” Race started, “Then you wouldn’t mind if I just called her over-”

“Wait-”

“HEY (Y/N)!” Albert groaned and whipped his head around to where she was standing, his heart skipping a beat when she looked over and beamed, briefly making eye contact with Albert and... did her cheeks turn a little pink? No, Albert decided. She was farther away than he was, it must’ve been a trick of the light.

“Hey, fellas!” She called happily, carefully stepping down from her stool and walking over. “How was practice today?”

“Oh, you know, it was a total breeze.” Race said with a grin. “Right, Albert?” Race nudged Albert’s side and he nodded, trying to pull himself together enough to attempt a verbal response.

“Ahem- yeah, totally. Complete lightwork.” He coughed out, managing a smile. She must’ve thought he was a total moron. They’ve known each other since freshman year, hung out multiple times with friends, goofed off together in class, and yet here Albert was; a complete, blubbering idiot.

(Y/N) quirked her eyebrow suspiciously. “If it was so easy,” She countered, looking specifically at Albert, “Then why’re ya cheeks so red? Looks like a hard day of practice for you boys to me.”

“Nah, that’s just Albert.” Race said with a wink. Albert shot him a look and turned to (Y/N), who had an amused look on her face.

“I, uh… erm.. sunburned.” Albert stuttered, trying to ignore Race’s look of utter disgust at his pitiful excuse out of the corner of his eye.

“I keep tellin’ ya, Al.” Race taunted. “You gotta put that SPF shit on every day, you sweet little ginger snap, you.”

“Why don’t you’s go wait in the car?” Albert said with a pointed look at Race, and (Y/N) giggled. She loved how Albert and Race bantered with each other. It was rather cute how Albert would keep Race in check, considering it was always the opposite when they were on the ice.

“Fine. Fine. I can tell when I’m not wanted. I’m just sayin’, body’s a temple.” Race said dramatically while walking away towards the car. Though, not before giving Albert a wink and making a heart with his hands behind (Y/N)’s back as he walked away. That little-

“You guys are absolutely ridiculous.” (Y/N) interrupted Albert’s thoughts, and he realized he probably was scowling in Race’s direction. Quickly fixing his face, he scratched the back of his head and unconsciously stepped closer to her.

“Yeah, so I’ve been told.” He grinned. (Y/N) tilted her head up a bit to meet Albert’s eyes, and he couldn’t help but get lost in them. God, everything about her was so beautiful, and her hair. The smell itself was intoxicating. He realized that they had been staring for a little too long and glanced down, cheeks pink again. How the hell could she make him like this?

“So, you’re gonna be playing in the game next Friday, right?” She asked hopefully. She was blissfully aware of how flustered she was making Albert at the moment - not that it was hard - and how cute it was to see him like that. She nearly died right there and then when he bit his lip and looked back at her again, nodding his head.

“Yeah, I’ll be out there almost all night.” He said. “Will, uh, will you be there?”

“Yup, I sure will. I gotta go to the games anyways for ASB, but I um,” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Damn her nerves. “I’d go watch you play anyways, even if I wasn’t getting graded on it.”

Albert’s eyes widened and his heart quickened. She didn’t say ‘them,’ as in the team. She said ‘you,’ as in him, Albert Dasilva. Oh god. He had to say something, anything to make her realize how much he loved that. Should he say something flirty back? Confess? Ask her out on a date? Propose?

“Oh.”

Albert mentally facepalmed. What the hell was that? Nice goin’ genius, now she probably thinks he’s even more of an idiot than originally thought. As his cheeks flushed an even deeper red, (Y/N) smirked and stepped closer, raising a hand to his cheek.

“Damn, Dasilva,” She said, gently rubbing her thumb across his cheek. “Your sunburn is gettin’ worse by the second.”

Albert’s heart was pounding against his chest as he maintained eye contact with (Y/N). Her palms were soft against his cheek, and the gentle but mischievous smile playing on her lips didn’t just make his heart flutter, but also made him think that maybe he did have a chance (she was holding his face, after all). Maybe this was a chance to redeem himself from that horrendous sunburn excuse, or the dimwit response he gave when she complimented him. If he could just gather the courage to grab her hand, lean forward a bit more-

“Hey, (Y/N)! I could really use your help over here!” Katherine’s strained voice cut in on tension between the two. Albert looked over (Y/N)’s shoulder as (Y/N) took her hand off his face and turned around. Katherine was about to fall off the ladder she was standing on in an attempt to pin the banner up. Before he could offer to help her out, (Y/N)’s eyes widened and she looked back at Albert.

“Shit- I gotta go help her with that, I’ll see you tomorrow, Albert!” (Y/N) said and quickly sprinted away. Albert watched her run off and stood there, looking stunned and mildly disappointed before snapping out of it and walking outside to his car, where Race happened to be waiting (im)patiently. He threw his bag in the trunk and slammed it shut, then plopped himself in the driver’s seat and put his head on the wheel.

“Went that well, huh?” Race said with a raised eyebrow. Leaning closer, he said, “Hey, at least your sunburn’s lookin’ a lot better. What, you got some aloe in your pocket or somethin’?” Albert groaned miserably and Race rolled his eyes. “Do I wanna know what happened?” He asked.

“Depends on how well you can handle what an idiot I am.” Albert replied, head still on the steering wheel of his car.

“Try me.”

Albert explained to Race what happened and wasn’t surprised when Race yelled, “‘Oh’? That’s all you had to say to that? ‘Oh’? Are you outta’ your mind?’

“I wasn’t thinkin’ properly, Race! It’s not my fault, I completely lose my wit around her. My confidence completely goes down the drain; she probably is wonderin’ why everyone says I’m so cocky all the time.”

Race sighed. “Just stop beatin’ ‘round the bush and ask her out already. This is painful.”

Albert rolled his eyes and started the car. “She probably doesn’t even like me like that anyways, Race. She’s probably just bein’ nice.”

“Oh, so we’re back at you denying this entire situation again?” Race said exasperatedly.

“What situation?”

“Shut up.”

[pittbull-enthusiast]

A Little Reassurance - Spot Conlon x Reader

Summary: Spot Conlon needs a little reassurance from his girl

Note: Ohhh boy, my second imagine. I wrote this on my phone so I hope the format isn’t weird, but anyways, ENJOY!

—

Spot Conlon didn’t want to deal with Manhattan at the moment. In fact, he didn’t want to deal with Manhattan at all. Yet, here he was, talking with the one and only Jack Kelly and some preppy newsie kid about some damn strike.

“C’mon Spot, this isn’t just for Manhattan. This is for all the newsies of New York! This is about fighting back for-”

“Yeah, yeah I get alls that, Kelly.” Spot cut him off with a wave of hand. “I hear what you’s talkin’ ‘bout, ‘n I agree with ya. But how do I know you aren’t gonna back down?” A look of surprise flashed through Jack’s face.

“Back down?”

“Yeah, Kelly. Back down. You think I’m gonna put my boys in danger to back all you’s up just for you to chicken out last second?” Spot threw his jaw up. “No way in Hell.”

“Conlon-”

“No, Jack.” Spot crossed his arms and leaned back on the table. “Prove that Manhattan ain’t a bunch of sissies and Brooklyn will be there to back you up all the way, ya hear?”

“But-”

Spot waved him off and Jack sighed in defeat. “Alright, alright.”

Him and the kid (Davey, Spot remembered suddenly) started for the door, shoulders slumped. “We’ll see you at the next battle, Conlon. Say hi to Queenie for me.”

Spot nodded and when the boys were out of view, leaned further back on his desk. What Kelly and that Davey kid were doing was good. Real good. Spot stood by them 100%, but they didn’t need to know that at the moment. He needed to see that they were strong enough to lead these boys (his boys, if they played their cards right) to victory. Tossing his cap into a chair, he was about to get up when he heard a tap on the frame of his door.

“Mind if bother you for a sec, Conlon?” Spot smirked at the sound of the girl’s voice and looked up. Leaned cooly against the door frame was (Y/N) (L/N), and his heart fluttered. Feisty, charming, and Queen of Brooklyn, (Y/N) was a force to be reckoned with. She somehow was rough, witty, and kind all at once, which never failed to amaze the rough and tumble King of Brooklyn.

“I don’t mind at all s’long as it’s you, doll.” He said with a tired smile on his face. She grinned and walked inside the room, standing right by where he was sitting and wrapped her arms around him. He leaned against her side affectionately, the weight of today’s news quickly catching up with him.

“That was some interesting news.” She said lowly, stroking his messy hair. He hummed and nuzzled his face closer to her breast.

“Sure was, doll.” He replied quietly. “Do you-?” He stopped, trying to gather his thoughts. “Do you think I’s doing the right thing? Waiting it out, I mean?”

(Y/N) nodded and looked down at Spot, their eyes meeting. He looked tired, she noted. Too tired for sixteen year old boy to be looking. Sighing, she gently cupped his face and leaned down slightly.

“I do.” She said softly. “What you’re doing is smart, love. I know some people might criticize your decision, but you’re thinkin’ with your brain here.” She brushed a strand of hair out of his face. “Besides, we gotta protect our boys.”

Spot smiled and leaned up to gently kiss her.

“Thank you.” He pulled back whispering. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, doll.”

“Probably go crazy or somethin’.” She chuckled. “Doesn’t matter now though, Conlon.”

“No?”

“No. What matters now is you kissin’ me, got that?” It was Spot’s turn to laugh.

“You got it, doll. Kissin’ you is my favorite pasttime anyways.”

[pittbull-enthusiast]

Everything I Do - Albus Potter x Reader

Hey guys! I totally disappeared from this account for over a year, and I just started to clean it up and start using it to post my own imagines and such! This is my very first one here so be gentle with me, but I really hope you guys like it. Enjoy!

—

It was snowing outside. The light gray clouds had rolled in the night before, giving Hogwarts castle a certain charm as the little white flakes fell lazily from the sky. The students were either cozily warmed up next to a large fire or were getting ready to go outside for the first day of their winter Hogsmeade weekend.

Albus’s group was sat in his dorm room. Scorpius was sitting on the loveseat chatting animatedly about Martin McCormick's potion mishap while Rose listened intently with a grin, her legs resting on Scorpius’s. As Albus listened too, he laughed as Scorpius made a wild hand motion to describe the Professor’s reaction. He could make anything more interesting than it actually was.

From his spot on his bed, Albus smiled a little to himself as he looked over to (Y/N). She was fussing over his and Scorpius’s dorm room, quickly picking up laundry and things while also listening with a smile to Scorp’s story. Her hair was messily tied up and she wore an oversized dark green sweater. His own Weasley sweater, he realized, as there was a large ‘A’ in the middle. His heart fluttered a bit at the scene. He thought it was cute.

“You really don’t have to do that, love.” Albus interrupted with a slight chuckle. “Scorp and I can do that.” (Y/N) snorted and raised her eyebrow.

“I’m perfectly aware that you can do it.” She said with an amused look. “That doesn’t mean you will.” Rose giggled and nodded, seemingly agreeing.

“Give us the benefit of the doubt!” Scorpius cried. (Y/N) laughed and threw a shirt she had just picked up at his face.

    “Oh sure, and let you drown in your own filth?” She giggled, gesturing to the half-cleaned mess. “I think not.” Albus couldn’t help but chuckle too at Scorpius's look of utter violation as he removed the shirt from his face.

    “Well sure, but-” Scorpius stopped mid-sentence and sniffed the shirt. His face contorted almost comically, making Albus, Rose, and (Y/N) stifle a laugh. “This smells disgusting.”

    They all laughed, and (Y/N) pointedly took the shirt and threw it in the laundry bin.

    “You see?” She said, plopping herself down next to Albus. “What would you do without me?”

    “They’d be dead without you, (Y/N).” Rose said, adjusting herself so she was comfortably leaning against Scorpius. Scorpius smiled at the act and wrapped his arm around her. It was pretty cute, even Albus had to admit it. As the conversation moved on, however, Albus looked over at (Y/N), not even paying attention to what was being said.

    Leaned back against his pillows with her legs folded underneath her, she was fiddling with a loose strand of hair between her index and middle finger, continuously playing and twirling it. He smiled softly to himself yet again when she scrunched her nose happily at something Rose yelled, and he found his heart doing another flip behind his ribcage. It seemed that every little habit she had, every move she made, every smile to grace her lips left him awestruck. As (Y/N) would put it, he was utterly fucked.

    (Y/N) seemed to notice Albus’s thoughts were tumbling around his head again and mouthed You okay?

Al grinned and nodded, though he could tell she didn’t quite believe him as she turned her attention back to Scorpius and Rose’s conversation (more like playful bickering match, but that was neither here nor there).  He thought about her question earlier, even though it was only jokingly asked.

What would you do without me?

Albus thought for a moment.

Nothing, he thought. Nothing. I’d just be living day by day, year by year, with no purpose in life or motivation to better myself. No fascination with your odd habit of twirling your hair and teasing you because of it, no late night conversations that keep me sane, no scolding you for cleaning up my mess.

He looked over at her again. She was laughing now at something, something that didn’t really matter to Albus at the moment because it was the beautiful sound he was focused on. That and her beautiful face.

I’d do nothing, because everything I do is for you.

@willowlikesdallaswinston @fangirlnova (hey chicka, it’s been a while!)

[pittbull-enthusiast]

I'm reblogging this because I'm tired of convincing people that my baby is a good girl and that she doesn't deserve the prejudice against her. She is the purest little bean, and I know for a fact that all these other beautiful pit bulls are too. Frankly, I don't want to have my Pitt bull speech prepared to launch at any given second anymore. Please read all of this and reconsider your opinion of my puppy. Also, here is a picture to add to these.

Here’s Why Being Afraid of American Pitbull Terriers Perpetuates an Unrealistic Fear, Causing Thousands of Deaths to a Suffering Breed.

ASPCA commercials of sad animals in kennels, unadopted and without families is hard for pretty much anyone to watch who is an animal person in one way or another. The majority of the dogs there, however, happen to be the American Pitbull Terrier, the “scary” dog. 

Below are pictures of pitbulls. I did not purposefully put together adorable photo shoots, or baskets of pitbull puppies, or pictures of them specifically with small animals or children. I am not here to further convince you that pitbulls are nice, friendly dogs. The reason why is because if this were about any other dog, it wouldn’t be necessary. I wouldn’t need to pick very specific pictures to show you that a nice dog is actually a nice dog, you would already assume so. I’m making this post to show you, hopefully remind you, that this fear of pitbulls is ridiculous, sad and quite frankly sickening.

Take a look at these statistics. I mean, really look at them. Doesn’t quite resonate with you? Allow me to shed some light. 

The American Temperament Test Society  is a group of people who, can you believe it, test the temperament (or the dog’s natural disposition) of over 30,000 different dogs of all different breeds. The breed, age, sex and amount of training a dog already has is taken into account. The test takes no longer than 12 minutes, with the subject dog being on a loose 6′ leash. The dog is presented with multiple tests to have its anxiety levels, panic without recovery and unprovoked aggression recorded.

The tests include 2 different situations with strangers, one neutral and one friendly. Next is 2 different loud and abrupt noises the dog can’t see or find. The next 3 are visual and tactile tests, including a umbrella popped open unexpectedly and strange floor the dog has to walk on (this is to analyze the dogs recovery from fear/panic to stepping on something unusual. it does not harm them). The last test are 3 different levels of aggressive behavior by a stranger.

This is where you can find the complete details to the test because I summarized them for obvious reasons.

That being said, should we go back to the picture above, pitbulls had an 86.8% pass on this test, being second best out of all the other “scary*” breeds listed.

*not all breeds are listed, but the ones that are tend to be the most common breeds restricted from apartments, homes or have had a history of being the “scary dog of the decade”. yes, golden retrievers included.

“But pitbulls are inherently vicious, it’s in their nature!”

First of all, false. Second of all, take a moment and take the “dog” part out of that. Sounds familiar doesn’t it? Defining a whole group by the actions of a few? Don’t we frown on that? We do. And if you don’t, you should ( because what the hell you fuckin racist ).

But here’s the kicker folks. Dogs don’t know anything other than what is shown to them. Unfortunately, the pitiful you’re afraid of gets hit, abused, and or neglected. Whether the poor thing is getting starved or beaten, it’s been taught to fear. Dogs can handle themselves when they need to so when all they know is fear, do you expect them to trust you? Of course not.

Now before you go on your merry way to tell me i shouldn’t be justifying an awful thing these poor dogs have done out of fear, rewind for a moment, and hear me out when i tell you you should not be afraid of the dog. you should be livid at the humans who have made this dog believe that the whole world will hurt them

“But Pitbulls have lockjaws! Once they bite down they won’t let go!”

WRONG. AGAIN. I am literally only going to say this once because if i hear it again I swear on my melting pint of ice cream I’m wrapping myself in a straight jacket and never coming out. 

Pitbulls. Jaws. Do. Not. Lock. 

That is a myth, it has been a myth ever since pitbulls became the scary dog of america and it will remain a myth because it is the stupidest thing I’ve ever fucking heard. Stretch your arm out and lock your elbow in place. Magically, you can still bend your elbow back, because it’s not really locked. There is no part of your body that you can lock to your will without being able to unlock it (if you can, go see a doctor. something is wrong)

If you take the skull of a chihuahua and the skull of a pitbull, besides their size, the mechanisms will be identical. The myth that pitbulls have locking jaws came from being bred to not back down until their goal was met, even despite pain inflicted on them, as they were used to take down larger animals. It is in their nature to be tenacious, but it is not in their nature to be vicious. The same way a foxhound, beagle or greyhound would go after rabbits, foxes and coyotes to tear them to shreds if given the chance and freedom.

“(Pitbulls) work through the years has been control of other animals- never humans.  A correct pit bull is more often than not submissive toward all humans, and adores children.”(x)

Now lets get personal

This is my dog, Kala

She is the cutest, sweetest damn thing this side of the equator. When I adopted her, she was 5, and the people said she was abandoned and found as a stray. Her nipples were sagging and they said she had to have had no less than two litters already, at the age of 5. They told me when she was found, she had a chip but the contact connected to it never responded or answered any calls.

The day I met Kala, she cried when I turned to leave even though she was the quietest dog in the room. The first time I saw her mouth open into a smile was when she got into our car to take her home. She thinks she’s the size of a cat (and lays down like one too, with all her paws tucked underneath her) and will always want to be sitting in your lap or touching you in some way to know you're close. She’s is ever protective of my 11 year old niece and 7 year old nephew. My youngest nephew, who just turned 1, is wary of her only because he’s only familiar with cats. But when he begins to panic around a large animal such as Kala, she steps back and lays her entire body down for him.

She’s 8 years old now and gallops around like she’s 3. Her favorite treat is a banana shared with me, and I would rather sit in a cardboard box on the street, with her healthy and happy by my side, than give her up to be euthanized soon after so I can live in an apartment complex that won’t allow pitbulls, rottweilers and huskies because “they don’t do well in communities”

In conclusion:

If you are scared of pitbulls simply because they are pitbulls, you are part of the reason I can’t find a home for me and my best friend. 

Fuck you.

[pittbull-enthusiast]

Is Angel secretly a Green Lantern fan?

Angel is definitely a Green Lantern fan😁

[pittbull-enthusiast]

I was asked by the lovely @fangirlnova for pictures of my pitty Angel because, well, JUST LOOK AT HER!!! Have a fabulous day!!

[pittbull-enthusiast]

Me

When you have your main teams you support but you also love specific players in the other teams and because you love them you kinda love their team too, so you're stuck loving all the teams like the hoe that you are