#american made athletic wear

[alanicglobal]

5 Things That Make Alanic Global Top Manufacturer of Athletic wear in the USA

The reputation of Alanic Global can work as a stepping stone for other retailers or private-label clothing manufacturers planning to involve themselves in the Wholesale Athletic Wear industry. https://www.alanicglobal.com/blog/5-things-that-make-alanic-global-top-manufacturer-of-athletic-wear-in-the-usa/

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

ASL brothers HAIKYUU!! AU!!!!!

Day one of Self Indulgent month for me! I love these three, i love haikyuu, i love killer whales!

(The Naval Academy is this au’s version of marines)

For those who dont know, in Haikyuu (and prob in real life too but in my experience its not as important as they make it in the anime) The "Ace" of the team is the person who primarily scores points via spiking. Theyre the Hard Hitter, basically.

Design talk👇

Originally, i was gonna make their school mascot just "The Pirates" but i couldnt figure out a clever pun with the school name so i scrapped it in favor of an animal mascot. I figured I would have a wider range of puns that way.

I landed on Orcas as the mascot because I think they really embody a pirate way of life. Theyre strong, hang out in groups of a mix of found family and their actual family, hate the rich, and theyre fun loving! And also im a bit biased because theyre my favorite animal, but hey, i said its self indulgent month, didnt I?

Their school name is a play on the word for Killer Whale (Shachi シャチ) and the word for 'knowledge' (Chishiki 知識), i just smashed the two words together. I'm very proud of myself for coming up with that given i dont speak japanese at all.

Anyway, with their designs, I was taking inspiration from orcas to match the design themes of haikyuu. Ace's hair is bleached on the underside to look like the underside of an orca's body, I made ace and sabo's eyes look more whale-like, the clip in sabo's hair is meant to resemble to spots behind orca's eyes, and I tried to make luffy's hair look more like it's round and spiking down more than i usually do.

Ace is wearing a ''way of the ace" shirt in the first picture, Luffy is wearing a shirt that just says "VOLLEY BALL" because i think it would be funny if he wore a bunch of those Zero-context-poorly-translated-random-english-words shirts that theres a bunch of in Asia. Sabo dyes his hair like delinquents do, but it doesnt much look delinquent~y because of how soft it looks. He means to do it to make him look like a delinquent though. Sabo still has his scars in this au, but he uses his hair, arm braces, and leg braces to cover them up. LUFFY AND ACE HAVE FUNKY SOCKS BECAUSE NO ONE CAN TELL THEM (or me) THEY CANT. Sabo wears athletic socks though because he's a debbie downer. He defends himself saying “It’s practical” and Ace and luffy call him “practically a Debbie Downer.”

Luffy is very good at receiving from growing up with Sabo and Ace practicing setting and spiking with eachother and assigning Luffy as Ball Boy. So he got the libero position from that cuz sabo and ace put in a good word for him. Nepotism.

I didn't feel like coming up with designs for them, but Zoro and Bepo are also on their team (theyre in the fifth image sitting on the right of the line of students). Koala and nami are student managers, Robin is the teacher manager, and Franky is the coach. all other straw hats/luffy friends, rev army comrades, and whitebeard brethren are in the stands. Im trying to keep the ages consistent with how they are in canon.

I didnt do a very in depth research, but i couldnt find what Japanese schools have as mascot costumes. and given no one wears any costumes in haikyuu for their team, i can kind of assume they dont use them over there. But unfortunately for them, I'm American. And part of the backbone of our schooling system, is Vaguely Unsettling Mascot Costumes. My sister says my design for it looks like its from Club Penguin, and i find that delightful. [moment of silence for my billions of fallen Puffles, taken from me in The Shutdown] Anyway.

I thought I was clever coming up with the equivalent of the Marines in this au being a Naval Academy. And their mascot being Seals, famously the animal that gets the absolute Worst Of It from orcas. Get shit onnnnn

I believe thats about it, thanks for coming to my ted talk :)

[taylorswiftstyle]

Attending the US Open | New York City, NY | September 8, 2024

Reformation 'Sora Linen Dress' - $248.00 Crap Eyewear 'The Marquee Rox' - $99.00 Louis Vuitton 'Louise PM Earrings' - $575.00 EF Collection ‘Diamond Mini Huggie & Prong Set Chain Stud Earring’ - $850.00 Foundrae 'Heart Sealed Gemstone Crest Rose Gold’ - $2,050.00 Wove Made x Michelle Wie West 'Custom Diamond Tennis Bracelet’ - $5,680.00 (starting) Lizzie Mandler ‘3 Row Cleo Bracelet’ - $18,300.00 Jacquie Aiche ‘Large Marquise Diamond Pave Signet Ring’ - $6,250.00 Retrouvai 'Rubellite and Diamond Ring' - no price listed Retrouvai 'Magna Ring' - $3,210.00 Gucci ‘Jackie Notte Mini Bag’ - $3,980.00 Tiffany & Co ‘Diamond Wire Ring’ - $2,675.00 Gucci 'Horsebit Detailed Platform Leather Sandals' - $1,100.00

While some wondered if Taylor would appear at any NYFW shows this week, a sporty outing to watch a fellow American Taylor (Fritz) in the US Open final is just as fun. And such great symmetry! The gingham print of this dress is sweet and breezy. It calls to mind picnics on the grass, apple pies, and Americana. In other words, a wholesome and summery piece to wear when supporting an American athlete. Love!

The brand is also a longtime Taylor staple. She’s been wearing Reformation pieces since 2012!

Taylor has been on a bit of a Louis V kick as of late, adding these monogrammed earrings to her latest run of pieces that have included two bags and a pair of boots.

Among Taylor’s style pillars include the art of the high/low (mixing high end designer pieces with more approachably priced items) and indie designers. To my eye, it looks like Taylor has added a new eyewear brand to her collection - the humourously named Crap Eyewear which are founded and designed in Los Angeles, CA.

Taylor’s jewelry was, once again, a lot of repeats. Pieces that she’s worn and loved and had in her jewelry box for awhile. Both bracelets seemingly haven’t left her wrists since she wore them to the Chiefs vs Ravens game last week. The #Tiffany ring was an addition she wore on the Eras Tour stage during the first round of dates in London. The #Foundrae crest necklace was worn back in January of this year. Set into a crest, this collection for Foundrae is a celebration of love in all its forms including romantic, platonic, and self. Taylor’s discography, of course, famously “a love letter to love itself” which makes this a perfect piece for her. 

The Retrouvai pieces are also familiar. The ‘Magna’ ring Taylor wore to the Super Bowl earlier this year. The heart ring you might recognize as from the “I Bet You Think About Me” music video which Taylor’s friend Blake Lively directed. This ring also just so happens to be Blake’s. It was a bespoke commission as part of the brand’s Heirloom collection and comprises an 8-carat heart shaped rubellite set off with a halo of 2.5-carat diamonds. Designer Kirsty Stone described Blake as a “true jewelry lover” and the “incredible” opportunity it was to design something for “her personal collection.” 

For a coordinating pop of red against her gingham check dress. This was a cute pairing! You might also recognize this bag from the London candids in June.

Photo by MediaPunch/Bauer-Griffin via Getty Images

[bigification]

American Tourist

I sit near the start of the hike, waiting for my tour guide. It takes a while, but finally an older man comes out of a small hut and greets me.

"Hello, are you Markus?" The man asks.

"Yes, I'm here for the tour." I reply, getting up to shake his hand.

"Well let's get started." He says as he leads to the head of the trail.

The tour starts fairly normal. The man just points out small things along the trail like plants and wildlife. But he started to sprinkle in some small talk as well.

"It is not often we have Americans come on this tour." The man says.

The comment confuses me, as I'm from London and have a very obviously non American accent.

"Oh I'm from London, not America." I correct him.

"I must be confused, the big men like you tend to be from America." He replies.

I take it as a compliment, that he's calling me strong, but it still strikes me as odd.

"It must be cold back in America, for you to be wearing shorts and a button up in this weather." The man continues.

Again with the 'America' stuff, I don't know why he keeps insisting on this. Also I'm wearing a t shirt and jeans, I don't know why he said that. But I'm shocked when I look down and see that in wearing khaki shorts and a blue button up. I could have sworn I was wearing jeans, but I guess I was wrong.

"Ya, it is..." I just lead the man along, hoping he'll let it go.

"I hope you brought some sunscreen. Americans with light complexion like you tend to burn easily." He continues.

I don't know what he's on about this time, I literally have darker skin than him. And it's definitely not sunny enough today to burn me. I look down at my arms to see if I'm burnt, maybe that's why he made the comment. Though when I look down, I see white skin. What!? My arms, my legs, they're white. I pull out my phone and look at myself in the camera, my face is white and my hair has become straight. I should be more shocked, but the more I think about the more comfortable I am. This is how I've always looked, right?

"I'm shocked you're keeping up this well." The tour guide continues.

"What do you mean?" I ask, nearly out of breath. He just complimented how big I was, and now he's questioning my athleticism.

"Well Americans like you tend to think they can do a trail like this, but then have to stop half way through." He says as he slaps my stomach.

What does he mean by Americans like me? And why did he slap my stomach? I look down and see my previously flat stomach grow rounder and rounder. My button up stretches further and further as my stomach grows into a soft beer belly. My solid pecs also soften into a pair of moobs. I even feel my shorts tighten around my ass. I try to rearrange my dick to make my bulge less noticeable, but these shorts are way too small.

"Don't you worry my friend, I did football in college. Don't let this tank fool ya, I'm sure I can keep up just fine." I reply in a thick southern accent, still out of breath. I start to unbutton my shirt, hoping to beat the heat.

"I still don't know how you Americans can grow so much hair, it's like a forest in there." The man questions, pointing at my chest.

I look down at the thick pelt of hair covering my chest as I scratch my thick beard.

"Us American men, we've got plenty of testosterone. Makes us the men we are." I reply in a surprisingly deep voice.

"Look, we've made it to the top. You should be glad, not many people your age make it all the way up." The man congratulates me.

I don't know what he means by that comment, but I'm not that old. Besides I barely broke a sweat, I'm an athlete after all.

[johnbrand]

Screen Froze

Podcasting had become inescapable in recent years. Everyone seemed to have an opinion on...well everything. Politics, world sports, cooking, an obscure movie from 1978 only released in a now-extinct language. If it could be covered, it would be. And one could find this content anywhere across the internet. Youtube, social media, even streaming services promoted their podcasters. Everyone was watching everyone talking. 

Of course, with so many different podcasters flying about, it was difficult to actually spot out talent. And from a sociologically micro perspective, it was even harder for individuals to find podcasters discussing the content they actually wanted to hear about. The more unique the niche, the less people one could happen upon to be talking about it during their recorded stream of consciousness. It was a simple formula, but it forced individuals to browse for hours or even days to find what they were searching for.

Sometimes though, people could not hold such patience. They would not wait for their new hero, a disciple preaching their values and morals to audiences around the globe. They would skip past one livestream discussing the economics of green villages in Switzerland to the next debating the potential existence between a minor character in two separate fandom universes. They could even perhaps land into a podcast like Sean’s.

“Most people just don’t understand the Soviet Union’s impact on architecture,” the measly, pale nerd innocently commented. A little shy in front of the camera, he was only able to relax a bit when discussing his favorite topics. Sean dressed in theme too, wearing a brutalist-like business casual outfit, a trait his small but dedicated fanbase adored.

“There were a lot of architects that really shaped this movement from all around the world,” Sean continued. “But today, we are just going to focus on those from the USSR.”

So what happened when one’s patience dried up? Well, everything was brought to a halt.

DragonHeart49: anyone else’s screen freeze? superduperloverboy: mine too <3bitsandmore: sean, I think ur glitching out

With the screen frozen, our impatient soul could now get to work. If one could not find the podcast they were looking for, then why not just create their own? Obviously, this did not mean constructing a podcast themselves, but rather alter the fabric of reality and completely realign another’s being to their preferred state. That was much easier.

Physical modifications were made first. A much larger body was necessary, something that demanded confidence and respect from others. Juicy pecs, rippling abs, sturdy legs. There was always something unreasonably fun in bloating the podcaster’s feet up a few sizes. An imposing frame to be craved by others, even when hidden underneath clothes, was priority. And speaking of clothes, those were quickly stripped down to less formal articles. Expensive branded tee, athletic shorts so small that boxer-briefs were visible, classic white Nike socks, all of it much more respectable than a button-up and tie.

This was not the impatient soul’s first time altering a podcaster to their liking, nor would it be their last. Physically at least, each of the end products were a little different. All alpha males, but just enough variation to not warrant any unnecessary rumors. This particular podcaster had his pre-American heritage redirected from France to India, the features in the screenshot tanning accordingly as a dark stubble acquainted itself along the sharper jawline. Of course, the bulge was accurately enlarged for geographical standards too.

Mentally however, all the podcasters could be considered copies. They each spoke of the same rhetoric, theories, and ideologies that our impatient soul wanted to hear. No matter how “backwards” or “hateful” their discussions were deemed as, nearly anything could be said by hulking bodies with undeniable charisma.

“These homos have no idea what they’re talking about!” Sanjay raged as the podcast restarted, his deep voice cocky and assertive. "Sure bro, I was just thinkin’ about a girl’s rack I saw earlier today but there's more to a girl than big tits. There's a tight pussy too!”

The chat section lit off with encouragement, their fates too having been altered.

MassiveFART69: you tell them fags bro! LOL XD crassmassschlongnator: we want to BREED THEM TOO!!!! <3TITSGALORE: JUST TALKIN ABOUT IT ALREADY GOT SANJAY GRABBIN HIMSELF AGAIN

Sanjay vacantly looked down, finding himself already subconsciously scratching at the thick bush within his shorts. He let out a hot protein fart followed by a laugh, his scratching slowly extending into groping his fat 8 inch babymaker.

“God, that was WET bros!” Sanjay applauded himself, his free massive hand swallowing the mic. “Anyway, I’ll catch you on the flip side dudes, gotta go hit the gym. Bros for life!”

There was a reason the traditional masculine movement was becoming stronger. Maybe it was because men were slowly aspiring to become the alphas’ equals, or because fags were beginning to submit to their nature. Or possibly, it could have been because each time a screen froze, reality was altered one click closer to traditional, normal masculinity.

[hotmentransformed]

Team USA

The city of Paris was alive with excitement as the 2024 Olympics drew people from around the globe. Among the crowds of tourists and athletes was Jesse, an American traveler with a love for adventure. Fascinated by the event and the athleticism on display, he felt an irresistible urge to experience the Olympics from a closer perspective. He had always been a rather meek man but had envied the raw athleticism and power that these athletes embodied. After saving up since the previous games, he was finally able to afford a trip to Europe for these games. Driven by curiosity and a sense of mischief, Jesse decided to sneak into the Olympic Village, to get close to the Olympians he had admired for so long.

Knowing this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be in proximity to his idols,  he had to make sure he made the most of this trip and didn’t fuck it up. Despite his meek statute, his confident demeanor and clever deception got him beyond the security, and he managed to enter the facility, blending into the vibrant atmosphere of the athletes' quarters. He wandered the village, soaking in the energy and marveling at the athletes he admired from afar.

Word of his entry got around, and soon guards were searching for him. As he heard French men shouting down the hall, he knew he needed to hide. Jesse twisted the nearest doorknob to him, and surprisingly, it was unlocked. Pushing it open, he threw his body inside and closed and locked the door behind him. Inside, the lights were dim. Now that he was safe from the guards, the adrenaline he had been riding was starting to wear off, and fatigue began to set in. Looking around the space, he noticed that the room was incredibly simple, with two beds with Paris 2024 sheets, a fan, and a clothes rack.

Exhausted from his adventure and his narrow escape, Jesse lay down on one of the beds to rest and regain his energy before making his daring escape. But the makeshift mattress was surprisingly comfortable, and even though the guards were still probably looking for him, Jesse quickly lulled into a deep sleep. 

As Jesse slept, a peculiar warmth spread through his body, enveloping him in a comforting embrace. His limbs felt heavy yet relaxed as if they were being gently molded by an unseen force. His breathing deepened, his chest rising and falling with a steady rhythm. The sensation was soothing, yet beneath it was an underlying intensity, a pulsing energy that coursed through his veins.

His body began to change. His hands, once ordinary, grew larger and more defined, the fingers thickening with callouses. His arms swelled with muscle, biceps and triceps becoming well-defined, veins standing out against the skin. His shoulders widened, giving him a more powerful and athletic build.

His chest expanded, pectoral muscles firming up as his heart beat stronger and more steadily. His abdominal muscles tightened, forming a sculpted six-pack that spoke of strength and endurance. His legs, too, transformed, becoming muscular and sinewy, the calves and thighs bulging with new power.

Jesse’s jawline became more pronounced, his cheekbones higher, giving his face a more chiseled appearance. His skin, once pale from his travels, took on a healthier glow as if he had spent years training outdoors under the sun. 

When Jesse awoke, he felt a strange surge of energy and vitality coursing through him. He sat up, blinking in the morning light, and noticed the gymnast's uniform hanging neatly on a chair, adorned with the letters USA. Confused but intrigued, he stood and moved towards the mirror.

The reflection that greeted him was stunning. Jesse stared, eyes wide, at the image of a powerful, athletic man. The person in the mirror was undeniably him, yet also a stranger. His body, now sculpted and strong, moved with a grace and ease that felt both new and familiar.

As Jesse struggled to understand what had happened, the door opened, and a young man in a Team USA singlet walked in. "Hey Brody, you're up!” the man said casually as if everything was perfectly normal.

Brody blinked, trying to reconcile the confusion in his mind with the reality before him. “You’re running late! The competition starts soon… you’d better get dressed!”

 "Yeah, okay,” Brody with an unfamiliar deep voice.

The other man closed the door and Brody picked up the singlet. He pulled his now-massive thighs through the spandex and pulled the outfit over his muscular body. His bulky arms flexed as he held the singlet open for the rest of his body to enter. The spandex hugged his abdomen, displaying his six-pack through the fabric, and his pecs pushed against the top and he held the shoulder straps. 

He let go of the straps of the singlet that he had been holding. With a snap onto his broad shoulders, he remembered everything: growing up in Tennessee, waking up early every morning to work out and train, enrolling at Stanford to compete, and qualifying for the Olympics.

Now knowing that he earned his right to be here, Brody strutted out of his room with a newfound bravado and through the Olympic village towards the shuttle to the gymnastics complex. Within the hour, he was there, on the mats warming up to compete for the gold in front of the world.

He was representing the best country in the world. He was the best of the best, and he was going to give the world one hell of a show.

[herecirmsims]

Rugby

Day 4 of my birthday week and today's posepack is a very unusual one from me... sports! I have never made a sport pose before in my life, but the inimitable Pr0w0fligate asked for rugby poses and here we are.

Two things: firstly, I don't tend to use references when I make poses, I just create whatever nonsense appears in my head... but I did use photo references for every single one of these poses, which is important for me to note because?? They look insane. But these are all copies of actual rugby photos.

Secondly: Jean Bebe is the love of my life. I needed a bunch of variously muscled Sims to test these with, and as I don't tend to have very muscular Sims in my game, I ran off a bunch of randomly generated ones in CAS. Jean Bebe (his name also randomly generated), he of the curly hair, was one of them and I immediately fell in love with this gentle, sweet himbo. That's all. I just needed to announce my adoration.

Anyway! Pack contains 4 solo poses, 5 paired poses, 1 group of 3, and 2 groups of 4 plus all-in-ones for solo and couple poses. I imagine these can be used for American football too, but although I tried to leave as much gap as possible for extra muscles, I wasn't thinking of the body armour/helmets Americans wear so... they may be clipping.

Poses were made with masc rigs and as always there may be clipping/floating depending on Sim body type and clothing, though they were made with muscular Sims in mind (I used EA sliders and Golyhawhaw's athletic body preset while testing).

You will need: - Pose Player - Teleport Any Sim - football acc by MelBennet (I really wanted to make a rugby ball recolour but failed... if anyone manages it, let me know...!!)

Download here (always free!): SFS | Patreon

TOU: you may adjust for personal use to avoid clipping etc., but please do not reupload/paywall/claim as your own.

I’d love to see them used! You can tag me on Twitter, Instagram, or Tumblr. I repost. ❤️

You can easily browse more of my posepacks using my Ko-Fi gallery. Have a request or want to make a commission? Details here!

@ts4-poses @alwaysfreecc

[imaginesig]

“I had the best day with you today”

Based on: “I was enchanted to meet you”

Kimi Antonelli x Norris!Reader

SMAU

Could be read as a stand alone, very short

After dedicating Enchanted to their relationship, who would’ve thought Kimi and Y/n would get to see it live

yn_norris

Liked by carmenmmundt, user71, landonorris, and 917,828 others

yn_norris: “I cry a lot but I am so productive”

tagged: no one

Kimi.antonelli it’s genuinely concerning watching you stress over bracelets and a bodysuit

oscarpiastri im right there with you mate

Yn_norris eras tour prep is not for the week‼️

lilyzniemer especially when you’re making your own stuff

user1 the nods to Midnights/Vigilante shit 🧐 Ms. Norris I think I know your outfit

Carmenmmundt I’m so excited!!

lilymhe we’re gonna have a blast in T-3 days!!

alexandrasaintmleux were all packed up and ready 🫶🫶

user2 all the wags are gonna show up and slay while the men will prod wear some boring ass clothes

yn_norris you best believe Kimi’s gonna slay, I made him a fit so he can’t embarrass me

user2 lmao Y/n

user3 this is so aesthetic i could cry

load more

Kimi.antonelli posted 2 stories!

Captions: 1) ive been roped into bracelet making 2) did I do good?

Replies:

yn_norris

you did so good

Whoever you trade that to will be so lucky

I need to do more

get to it then

Oscarpiastri

Lily hasn’t gotten to me yet

If she does idk what I’ll even make

Best of luck avoiding it solider

Olliebearman

I wanna join

Don’t worry she’s bringing the materials with us so you can make some at the hotel

yn_norris posted a story!

Caption: I’ve arrived 🫶✨🪩

Kimi.antonelli

liked by user1, taylorswift, Olliebearman, and 817,828 others

Kimi.antonelli: “I was enchanted to meet you” 💜

tagged: yn_norris, Taylorswift

yn_norris I love you 💜🫶

Kimi.antonelli I love you too 💜🫶

user1 THEY WERE AT MY SHOW

user2 ugh i need a concert bf

carlossainz55 @/landonorris after tonight I cannot do the overprotective uncle role anymore, they’re too cute

landonorris MATE WHAT

Kimi.antonelli finally a win

carlossainz55 but hurt her even a little…

Kimi.antonelli I understand

Taylorswift THE Enchanted couple

Kimi.antonelli what a compliment

yn_norris I’ve fallen to the floor and started violently sobbing

Landonorris L

user3 did you trade your bracelet??

user4 the fact that this whole post is centered around Y/n 🥹🥰

user5 drivers (+ their so) really brought the best energy

User6 do you think Travis felt more at ease bc he wasn’t surrounded by other celebrities but rather other male athletes?

user7 I wanna know if him and Logan talked American football

Load more

Yn_norris

Liked by taylorswift, Lilymhe, landonorris, and 182,928 others

Yn_norris: “I had the best day with you today” 💛

tagged: Kimi.antonelli, lilyzniemer, carmenmmundt, lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux

Kimi.antonelli you looked so beautiful in the concert lights 💛

yn_norris ditto 💛

user2 LMAO THEIR OUTFITS

user1 the fact Kimi and Y/n matched the hearts to the lyrics album for both posts makes me sick

lilymhe it was so fun!!

carmenmmdunt gorgeous

lilyzniemer you win best couple costume!!

landonorris after seeing Vigilante Shit I have decided that your outfits are way to inappropriate and therefore I hate them

yn_norris too late 😚

taylorswift best outfits! Best energy! Best fan! Y/n I love you 🫶🪩

yn_norris you’re the best everything!! I love you too 🫶🪩

yn_norris HOLY SHIT SHE FOLLOWED ME AHHHHHHH

user3 she’s just like me fr

ussr4 her bracelet collection 😭😭

user5 people have said she wore them the whole time

Yn_norris well what was I supposed to do? Not show off all of my new besties and their hard work??

load more

[allieebobo]

Merry Crisis—Cast of characters

Romance-focused x Slice-of-life x Queer x Non-Euro-centric x Character-based

Demo | Features | Dev log | Back to Main Post | COG forum | Dedicated tumblr | Ko-fi

Credit: The wonderful amazing INSANELY talented @dumplingcatho made these STUNNING character portraits!! I am still reeling from how dang good she is. I swear she probably made a deal with the devil for this talent but I shall not question it.

Nat [M/F]

The soulmate/ex/best friend.

Your ex. Your parents never approved of them, but you suppose it doesn’t matter anymore. Despite the breakup, you’re still friends, and worse still - you still live with them in a tiny shoebox apartment. New York rent, man—it's hard to say no even though you know you should be moving on, and moving out.

Height: 6′2 (M) | 5′11 (F)

Nationality & race: African-American

Occupation: Post-doc fellow, working towards becoming a tenure-track professor.

Description:

Warm, twinkling eyes, and big, infectious laugh. Can swing from nerdy charm to extreme goofyness at the drop of a pin.

Loving, thoughtful, and kind to a fault. Relaxed, gentle demeanour

The kind of friend—and partner—you can trust with your life.

An incurable optimist.

Loves people, art/movies (especially talking about them with friends), food/cooking, their two dogs. 

Nat's dogs

Kiho [M]

Breed: Cairn Terrier

Age: 8

Description: Proud, small, intelligent, standoffish, with a stern grandpa energy. Apparently, a reader/player told me long ago that Kiho means "big boss" in Finnish colloquial slang and that was so perfect that it stuck. If Kiho were human he'd wear an old patagonia vest and spend his weekends fishing (not very adeptly).

Liz [F]

Breed: Border collie

Age: 3 (adopted when MC and Nat were already together.)

Description: Not exactly literal golden retriever energy but... close enough. A ray of sunshine, playful, easygoing, happy-go-lucky and a voracious eater (she eats everything), loves playing in puddles and has a special love for chewed up tennis balls.

Qiu [M/F]

The estranged first love / soulmates.

Your first-love (or platonic soulmate), from junior college. You’d not kept in touch, and now, they’re ridiculously successful. But, according to your intel, still…single.

Height: 5′8 (M) | 5′4 (F)

Nationality & race: Chinese Singaporean

Occupation: Public prosecutor

Description:

Extremely intelligent, with a sharp, cutting wit.

Ambitious, determined, and a bit cynical / jaded.

Dark, piercing gaze, with a completely unreadable expression.

Formal, a little bit stiff, and always impeccably dressed.

Aloof, almost intimidating presence despite their relatively average height/slim build.

Loves a job well done, being useful, stimulating conversation, and solving problems. Peace and quiet.

Shay [M/F]

The charismatic stranger.

Your neighbour (Auntie Pearl)'s new tenant. Sexy, confident, and unabashedly unconventional. Your mother definitely does not approve, but you might not be able to resist their roguish charms.

Height: 5′10 (M) | 5′6 (F)

Nationality & race: Chinese (Peranakan) Singaporean

Occupation: Lead singer & guitarist in a rock band

Description:

Thick, sweeping eyebrows, expressive eyes that twinkle at the edges, and a permanent roguish half-grin.

Tan, athletic, with an undeniable swagger to their walk. Has a penchant for sleeveless muscle tees. Good with their hands (and... possibly other parts of their body).

Adventurous, resilient, unflinchingly honest, and uncompromisingly true to themselves / the people they love.

Loves the outdoors (and constant motion), music (especially rock, reggae and soul), dancing, soccer, nature/plants (including gardening).

Other asks

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Seeing the new Ruggie card and the freaking disc made me realize that Yuu got lucky getting away getting hit by that thing? IN THE HEAD?!

Hey, we can’t have our main point-of-view character dead or with an extended concussion this early in the game + they needed a convenient transition to the next scene in a way which doesn’t reveal Malleus’s true identity to Yuu (gotta keep that a secret until late book 5) 😂 As the player’s avatar, they’re equipped with strong plot armor. It definitely feels like a part where you need your suspension of disbelief to kick in for it to “make sense”. Getting beaned in the head with a GOLD disk propelled by magic at a high velocity sounds like it could do significant damage otherwise.

Oh, and speaking of the new Ruggie card?? We get our first look at what the Magift uniforms look like:

***Ruggie Club Wear spoilers below the cut!!***

The purple and black are consistently shown to be NRC’s school colors; these are also present in other athletic uniforms as well as the ceremonial robes. It’s no surprise to see those same shades reflected here, in the Magift (ie Spelldrive) uniform.

Not sure if I understand the jacket he’s wearing over the black, the length of it makes it easy to snag on something while flying. Maybe it’s just something Ruggie specifically wears (since he tends to have hand-me-owns that may not fit him correctly)?? The placement of the belts across Ruggie’s torso is… interesting? Is that meant to secure him…? Why do I get the sense that the belts will be used to frame Leona’s chest in his own Club Wear iteration 😭

The goggles make sense; you’d want to protect your eyes from such a dangerous sport. I was expecting more bulky and protective headwear though 😅 Thankfully the knees and legs seem to be padded! You can’t tell if the arms are due to the sleeves, but I hope they are too. The whole outfit seems to have a focus on being aerodynamic. I’m guessing the protective element of the clothes comes from magic being imbued into them or something (since we know that’s the case for dorm uniforms and ceremonial robes). That must explain why the Magift uniforms don’t look like American footballers. According to Yana, these clothes were designed not just with protection from collisions and rolling in mind, but also to allow for flying at high speeds.

I appreciate that the Club Wear cards usually give us a new hairstyle for each student. Ruggie has his bangs parted to make way for a pair of goggles! This look makes him look slightly more mature.

A nice detail for this card is that we get to see the field set up for a full game of Magift. The goal looks so funky and generic fantasy at the same time 😂

... Now imagine pulling up to the field looking cool and intimidating in your clothes, only to get your ass handed to you by pretty boys in (probably) pristine white uniforms that haplessly cheer about the power of friendship 💀 AND THAT HUMILIATION IS TELEVISED ALL OVER TWISTED WONDERLAND

[lesbianpepsi]

your face is a like a melody, it won't leave my head

pairing: jock!amber freeman x volleyball player!fem!reader

summary: amber can't stop obsessing over a certain volleyball player

words: 2.379k

warnings: amber being a stab enthusiast, swearing, bad writing

authors note: my biggest red flag is giving all my fics long ass lana del rey lyrics as titles 😕🚩

Woodsboro High was like any other basic American high school. It had its popular kids, nerds, and of course the jocks. But one thing that separated Woodsboro from all the other schools was the jocks, more specifically the star jock player; Amber Freeman.

Not a sleazy guy named Jason Jackson but a girl named Amber Freeman.

She was absolutely notorious for her massive parties, how good she was at football and how stupidly attractive and athletic she was.

Everyone was fawning over her good looks and obnoxious attitude; well almost everyone.

You were the star of the volleyball team, the one who worked the hardest to gain the title of captain and went to every single practice to come out of it sweating like a pig.

You were the one in five hundred who did not like Amber Freeman.

Her cocky behaviour and rude attitude to students and some teachers who didn't deserve it made you go red with rage.

The feeling was heavily reciprocated as Amber made it very clear she did not like you.

"Accidentally" kicking her ball in your direction at lunch every time, snarky comments whenever she saw you and mistakenly using your locker to keep her things when she needed to change into her football gear.

It was anything but fun to deal with.

After a particularly rough practice session after school, you had to stay behind to clean everything up while your teammates headed towards the changing room to get their stuff and leave. Your oh so lovely coach didn't bother to help either, she simply threw the keys to lock the gymnasium at you and told you to lock up.

With a tired sigh you began rounding up all the volleyballs into a large black bag, throwing one in after the other. As you were about halfway done the doors opened, you sighed in relief as you hoped it was maybe your best friend Rosa had decided to help you clear up.

Grabbing a ball you turned to look at the doors, smiling widely before it quickly faded away when your eyes landed on who it was.

Amber Freeman stood there with a smug smile as she headed towards your direction, she was wearing her own jersey which told you she had just finished her own practice.

The jersey was the school's colours navy and yellow with the mascot being a panther, the front of Amber's jersey showing her signature number '96'.

The colour scheme was the same as your volleyball outfit; your long sleeved navy shirt with some stripes of yellow on it accompanied with short navy shorts that matched Amber's navy jersey and tight yellow slotted waist pants.

"What are you doing here, Freeman?" You grumbled as you stuffed a ball more roughly than necessary into the large bag.

Amber chuckled as she stood in front of you. "Coach didn't like my apparent 'arrogant' behaviour in practice so she said I gotta help the volleyball team clear up." She explained with a light rasp to her tone, something that you couldn't help but find hot annoying.

You scoffed as you picked up another ball off of the ground, dropping it into the half full bag. "Amber Freeman being arrogant, how shocking." You retorted, your tone dripping with sarcasm as you glanced at Amber.

The dark haired girl still had that smug grin that you wanted to desperately wipe off of her face. "Someone's grumpy, are you annoyed that you and your girl broke up?"

Your jaw clenched as you averted her gaze, focusing your attention back on the balls on the floor, much more aggressively than necessary shoving them into the bag.

"Fuck off, Amber. That's none of your business." Amber let out a laugh as she snatched the bag from your grip, opening it wider as she smiled at you.

Sceptical, you glared at her before you picked up three balls off the floor and dropped them in, the entire process being much faster with Amber holding the bag.

After a small period of silence much to your displeasure Amber broke it.

"Is it true you broke up with Neve 'cause she said she wanted to fuck me?"

You froze as your grip on the final ball tightened as you glared at her. You honestly thought she couldn't be any more of a bitch but here she was, in all her glory being a massive bitch.

"If Neve wants to make the mistake of fucking you then that's her and yours business, not mine." You replied, rubbing your thumb against the ball. "Well don't you worry baby cakes, I wouldn't sleep with her anyway." Amber asserted with a smirk, giving you a wink as she did so.

Your ears burned at her weirdly cute stupid nickname, your grip tightening even further.

Before even thinking you threw the ball weakly at Amber's face, resulting with her letting out a pained whine as the ball swiftly dropped into the bag. You grinned - mostly satisfied at the fact the ball dropped back into the bag- as you retrieved the full bag from her clutches.

"Whoops." You apologised as you tightened the top of the bag with the string, throwing it over your shoulder.

Amber rolled her eyes at your fake apology as she frowned like a hurt child, rubbing at her forehead where the ball hit.

"You're not funny." She grumbled out, moving her arms to cross them over her chest.

You narrowed your eyes at her with a smirk of your own. "I might not be funny but at least I'm not a reddit user."

Amber eyes widened in shock for a split second at your words, that only made your smirk grow even larger. She tilted her head to the side soon after, acting confused but you knew the truth.

"What are you even talking about?" She questioned. You stifled a laugh at fake confusion, you were positive Amber Freeman would not make a good actress.

"Does stumachersknife69 ring any bells, Freeman?" The jock averted your piercing eyes with a cough, finding a new interest on the floor. "I don't know what you're talking about." She mumbled.

You snorted a laugh as you nodded your head. "Sure you don't. Maybe I'll just have to ask Tara." You quipped making your voice sound more flirty at the end knowing how Amber would react to it.

Everyone in Woodsboro knew not to try to play any games with Tara Carpenter, Amber Freemans best friend. The football player was very protective over the smaller girl.

Amber's dark eyes glanced back at yours instantly at yours words, a glare on her face as she straightened her posture.

"The fucks that's supposed to mean?" She asked in an accusative manner. You shrugged your shoulders innocently as you smiled at her. "Well, you did say I was grumpy, so maybe I should start dating again. Tara's quite pretty, beautiful even and so sweet. What's not to like?"

"Like hell I'd let you go on a date with Tara." Amber said gruffly, her jaw clenching as your fake smile widened even further, knowing it would rile her up even more.

With a dry laugh you asked her: "Are you her personal guard dog or something?" your smiling becoming real at how annoyed Amber got.

"No, I just don't want her hanging out with douchebags like yourself." She cursed back. You watched her carefully as she took a step closer to you, glaring at you the entire time.

"How am I a douchebag? I've literally had like three girlfriends in my entire life and actually treated them with respect unlike you." You retorted with cockiness that faded once you noticed how lame what you just said sounded.

Thankfully Amber paid no mind to the fact you only had three girlfriends as her anger fizzled over. "Excuse fucking me? Are you saying I don't respect the people I go out with or something?"

You snorted a laugh as you stared at her in disbelief. Amber was the literal biggest player in the school, of course she barely cared about the girls she slept with. "You fuck 'em and leave 'em on the very same day without warning, that's kinda of a douchebag thing to do."

The jock stool another step closer until the point she was in your personal space, breathing heavily as she gazed into your eyes. "Oh shut the fuck up." She growled, the air around you suddenly starting to feel much warmer.

You didn’t wait a second to think of a reply before two words appeared on the tip of your tongue, escaping before you could do anything about it.

“Make me." You challenged with a smirk.

Amber opened her mouth to say something but faltered at the last second, shutting her mouth. The dark haired girl cocked her head to the side with raised eyebrows. “What did you just say?” She asked you in a low voice.

Your eyes flickered down to her pink lips before back to her dark eyes, licking at your own lips.

“I said make me.”

The football player didn't waste another second before her lips were on yours, capturing your lips eagerly as one of her hands moved to the back of your neck, pulling you even closer.

The bag full of volleyball balls had dropped from your shoulder to the ground, the impact making it reopen as all of the balls escaped with a roll.

Amber nor you paid any attention to it.

Your own arms wrapped around her waist as you pulled her even impossibly closer as you kissed her back just as fiercely.

The dark haired girl faintly tasted like raspberry apple, a taste you had never found so addictive and delicious until now.

Your heart beating faster than it had all of practice at the feeling of Amber Freeman’s soft lips on your own. Shutting your eyes it was as if you’d gotten much more sensitive, the feeling of the butterflies in your stomach intensifying.

Amber’s tongue professionally slided along your bottom lip as she begged for entrance. You whined pathetically loud at the feeling as you quickly went to complied to her request, soon after

Amber greedily shoved her tongue inside your mouth.

Your hands gripped at her jersey; your knees started to feel weak as her tongue explored your mouth.

The jock’s other hand held your waist with firmity, her thumb gently moving up and down your waist.

You couldn't bring yourself to pull away from Amber’s addictive soft lips, no matter how much your lungs begged you for oxygen.

Unluckily you didn't get much of a choice when you’d pull away when you heard a booming voice.

“Yo! Freeman where you at?”

You recognised the voice as Chad Meeks Martin’s voice, the second most popular footballer player at Woodsboro.

Amber hurriedly pulled away from you, breathing heavily as she still held you. It took you a moment or two to open your eyes, your breathing as erratic as Amber’s.

It definitely didn't calm down when the first thing you saw was Amber’s flushed cheeks and swollen lips, her signature smirk toying at her lips.

Your eyes locked with hers as you loosened your grip on her jersey, swallowing dryly.

You could feel the jock’s fingers playing with your hair as she leaned closer, her mouth hovering over your ear.

“I'll see you tomorrow, Y/n.” Amber whispered out in a sultry tone, kissing your cheek as she pulled away.

Before you could argue Amber's hands dropped from your body as she left without another glance, leaving you alone feeling flustered and as much of a mess you had at the end of practice.

It took you five minutes before you could move, silently repeating your previous actions as you kept the volleyball balls into the black bag. The warmth on your cheeks never leaves.

Once you actually kept everything you headed towards the locker room that was empty. You didn't bother taking a shower and as you decided taking one at home would be easier.

Throwing your backpack over your shoulder you locked the gymnasium before you kept the keys in Mrs Smith and Miss Myers small office near the gymnasium.

As you opened the door you saw Miss Myers inside writing away on her notepad, she jumped at the sudden entrance before she turned to give you a sweet smile.

“Y/n, great to see you, how was your practice?” She asked you in a honey sweet voice, very different to the deafening yells she’d give the football team when they played a game or were practising.

Without a doubt she was the scariest teacher at the school.

You grinned back at her as you nodded your head weakly. “Knackering, one of the hardest we’ve had in a while.”

She barked out a laugh as she threw her notebook to the side. “I can see you're still quite flushed.

That was more Amber's fault than Coach Smith but you didn't dare tell her that. Instead you laughed before you gave her the keys.

“Smiths made you lock up again?” You nodded your head, rolling your eyes as you grinned. “Captain duties apparently.”

She gave you a sly smirk as she took the keys from you, hanging them next to the dozen other keys they had.

“You're as dedicated as my quarterback.” Miss Myers complimented. You tilted your head to the side as you played with the strap of your backpack. “Freeman? I thought she was a hassle in today's practice?”

She laughed as she waved at you dismissively. “Amber is never a hassle in practice, that girl always tries her best and it shows.”

You blinked at her confused; Amber's earlier words replaying in your mind of her saying she had to come and help you clean up.

Had Amber lied to you to just see you?

Shaking your head weakly you smiled at Miss Myers one last time as you took a step back. “I'll see you tomorrow, Miss.”

“See you, Y/n, get home safely.” She replied with a wave of her hand, you waved back before you turned on your heel, exiting the building.

Amber Freeman’s irresistible smirk all you could think of as you headed back home.

[sunlightmurdock]

The Odyssey | 0.1 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Summary: There are a few bumps in the road during your travel to Italy and your first day there. Bradley’s not a regular professor, he’s a cool professor.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, power imbalance (professor / student relationship), age gap (22 / 33), will be smut, virgin reader, swearing, themes of eventual infidelity, mentions of travel sickness and throwing up, wc: 4.5k

…

“I can’t do it, I just can’t go,” You throw yourself back against the leather seats and cover your face with your hands. Malcom drives a Rolls Royce corniche from last year with a black exterior and brown leather seats. You’re parked outside of Ithaca Thompkins Reigonal airport, your suitcase is in the back and your fiancé’s stroking tenderly at your cheek. “It’s going to be hell.”

“It’s a summer in Italy, honey, not jail time.” Malcolm laughs at you, lifting your jaw and giving a calm shrug of his shoulders. The sun on your face, the two of you had practically the entire winter to celebrate your engagement, it seems fitting that his last summer is his and his alone. His heart squeezes at the thought of the autumn to come. Your honeymoon, a short stay at his father’s place in the Bahamas.

Then, the rest of your lives together. The thought is enough to make you concede finally.

“It’s hardly a vacation.”

“You’ll be home before you know it, and then you’re gonna be my wife. I’ll take you on all the vacations you could want.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.” You point, tone begrudging as you finally move to pull open the car door. Your fiancé follows you out of the car, leaving the roof down as he

reaches into the back to grab your suitcase. It’s a gift from your mother, part of a matching his and hers set that should’ve stayed pristine until your honeymoon. Bringing it back tarnished isn’t an option.

He lifts it out of the car and walks around, closing your door for you and then wrapping an arm around your waist.

“This will all be a funny little thing that we look back on. Something to tell our kids the first time we take them to Italy.” Malcolm’s thumb nudges just slightly under your white t-shirt, stroking a gentle circle on your waist. He squeezes you against him, pleased with himself for finally drawing a smile from you.

“Alright, two, four, six…” Bradley counts the young adults in pairs, his brows drawing together as he searches for his seventh. There’s no need to wonder who it is that’s missing. Eight minutes after nine, he’s giving you two more before he leaves you behind.

“Hey, Bradley,” Luke is Bradley’s favourite TA. He’s not supposed to have favourites, but he’s also not supposed to have any tattoos. He’s supposed to wear a tie at work. ‘Supposed to’s’ haven’t mattered much to Bradley in the course of his career. Luke is a little shorter than Bradley, athletic and dark haired. He’s going to teach in France in the Autumn, inspired by his favourite professor. “Did you hear back from that guy in Sicily about August?”

Luke listens. He really cares about what he studies, Bradley likes that about him. They share the same sense of humour too. He smiled a little, and then shakes his head.

“No, I think he heard the American accent and made up his mind before I’d even asked him about it.” Bradley gives a small shrug, like it doesn’t matter, but they both know that would have been the opportunity of a century.

Luke’s sympathetic in his nod back. They leave it at that. Bradley lifts his arm and checks his watch again. As he’s about to turn and leave, he catches sight of you, strolling in and talking away to your fiancé like you aren’t holding everybody up.

“You’re late.”

You turn your head and look him over. He’s wearing beige shorts and white converse tennis blancs. No other professor you know would show up to a work trip in sneakers. The first impressions are set.

You’re late, he’s underdressed.

“Sorry, man. We hit traffic on Warren Road.”

It’s a maybe thirty minute drive from the furthest part of campus. Bradley doesn’t say anything at all. He just stares. Just the look on his face makes you seethe, wondering silently what kind of woman could have raised such an impolite adult.

His eyes pull away from Malcolm and fall down to the nice, white suitcase that you’ve brought along with you. It’s Ralph Lauren with an extendable handle and wheels. From this alone, Bradley knows that you haven’t spared a second to look at the itinerary. You watch him scrutinize your luggage, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Alright, well, since we’re already late. Let’s move.” Bradley decides, bored. He turns and hoists lifts his much more manageable suitcase into his right hand. Like ducklings, the other students gather quickly and follow him as he turns towards the check in desk.

“You can’t seriously expect me to spend three months in the middle of nowhere with that man,” You shake your head adamantly, folding your arms over your chest and looking to your fiancé for support. “I’ll wind up murdering him.”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to say murder in an airport, honey,” Malcolm teases. He pulls you into his arms and kisses the top of your head. “You’ll be back before you know it. Go, see the world. I’ll be right here to listen to all your stories when you get back.”

“I love you.” You mumble begrudgingly into his Tommy Hillfiger polo. He grins and kisses your temple, then tells you the same. Finally, he takes you by your shoulders and pushes you towards the other group of students.

You swallow dryly as your loafers carry you forwards. One of the students, dark haired and grinning, leans in and says something to Bradley while his eyes remain on you. Bradley chuckles as it and shakes his head, dropping his suitcase onto the scale.

Glancing back over your shoulder, trembling starting in your chest and spreading along your nerves, Malcolm smiles and nods for you to go ahead. He’s tanned already from the start of the golf season, cheeks dimpling, straight brown hair falling into his eyes a little. He’s going to have to cut it once he starts working for real, but you like the boyish look for now.

Pausing, you take your time to look him over. Taller than you by just a few inches, strong from his years of baseball, slim from his years of track, smooth skin and blue eyes that are just to die for.

Your gaze falls down to the rock on your finger. The knowledge that if you can withstand these two months, you’ll have everything you’ve ever wanted is enough to finally make you turn back around and set your suitcase down on the scale.

The next twenty four hours will be the worst. Your itinerary, which is wrinkled near the bottom from the stream of tears that had been pouring onto it the night before, tells you that it’s about seventeen hours of travel. A short flight, first, two Newark airport. Then, a six hour flight to London. Finally, a two hour flight to the north of Italy.

Bradley settles into his seat on the flight to Newark and glances behind him to search for his seven students. Three sitting together, two sitting together, Luke’s at his side and then you’re sitting on your own between an elderly married couple. His lips quirk to himself as he turns back around. It’s only fair that karma pays him back a little bit.

He’s less than thrilled about you being here. It just doesn’t seem fair that someone missed out on this opportunity because your daddy was able to pull some strings. You don’t give a shit about this trip. So, if it’s miserable for you, Bradley really couldn’t care less.

You rub at your temples, the volume of your Walkman turned up as loud as it will go, Joy Division blasting in your ears as the Houseman’s lean over you to argue with each other. Lifting your head, you find Bradley soundly asleep, arms folded over his chest and lips parted slightly — perfectly comfortable aside from his knees pressing into the seat in front.

He couldn’t care less when you’re panicking in the lounge at Newark airport, thinking you’ve lost your passport. Or when you’re stuck next to a screaming baby on the flight to London. Or, when on the flight from London to Turun, there’s such bad turbulence that the first thing you do upon landing is rush down the steps and puke.

“Oh, here — did you want some water?” Abigail offers. Bradley doesn’t know her that well other than the fact that she is the only person he knows who has never gotten less than an A in his class, and that she’s probably more intelligent than he is. And apparently, more of an empath. She rubs her hand along your shoulders soothingly and offers you the unopened plastic bottle.

You step back from the trash can, letting go of your hair and groaning quietly, blinking the tears from her eyes.

“Thank you,” You seem surprised by her kindness, taking the bottle from her slowly like she might have snatched it back from you. Gratitude. That surprises Bradley. “That’s really sweet of you.”

It’s not your fault that you were taught early on that there’s no such thing as a free handout, or that selflessness is a myth. Abigail comes from a much different background. Her mom does soup kitchens and charity drives, she taught all three of her children the meaning of kindness early on. Your mother taught you the value of womanhood early on.

“It’s no big deal.” She smiles, reaching into the pocket of her light washed jeans and pulling out a packet of gum. “You can keep this.”

Bradley watches the exchange, then checks his watch again. As much as it seems fair to watch you suffer, the last thing he needs is for you to call your father screaming on the first night.

“Alright. It’s a twenty minute ride to the hotel, there’s a bus for us outside. Are you going to be alright?”

Exhausted, your ears are ringing and this is the most professional that he has acted all day; you know not to push your luck with him. You nod weakly at him. He can’t help but notice how colourless you’re starting to look at baggage claim, and how much trouble he’s going to be in if you die on the first day. You chew tiredly on the peppermint gum, trying to pretend that the motion of just chewing alone isn’t enough to still make you queasy.

You should be in Malcolm’s television room, right now. Sitting curled into his side with your legs across his lap, watching some action movie that will keep his attention long enough for the two of you to finish it. Closing your eyes and picturing that you’re there just doesn’t cut it.

Stepping out of the airport, an iron-tight grip on your suitcase handle, you inhale deeply. The fresh air makes you feel a little less light headed. You sip slowly at the water. Everyone keeps looking at you.

It’s not half as warm as you had expected it to be. When you had pictured Italy, you had pictured vineyards and thick heat. Tonight, you’re in a city, and it’s actually a little cold even with the thick denim jacket you’re wearing. The chill helps breakthrough that sick, sweaty feeling that you’ve got going on though, which is nice.

“Mr. Bradshaw!”

Bradley’s lips turn up into a big grin as he locks sights on the short, bald man that’s grinning at him from in front of a black minivan.

“Pasquale!” He chuckles as he speaks, dwarfing the older man as they hug. You’ve never seen him that pleased to see anyone. “How’s it going?”

“Same old, same old,” Pasquale shrugs, giving Bradley a knowing wink. They share a laugh again. “Big group this year.”

Bradley turns to look at all of you over his shoulder, then nodding slowly. His gaze lingers on you. “Uh-huh. They’re a little tired.”

“Well, then, let’s get the kids to bed.” Pasquale jokes. He grabs the handle and tugs open the middle door to the van, then walks around to tug open the back doors.

Everyone hands their bags to him, then finds a seat inside. Making the most of the fresh air whilst you’ve got it, you’re intentionally the last.

Pasquale grunts as he lifts your suitcase off of the ground, struggling with the weight of it. Bradley shoots him a look and then grabs your arm, stopping you before you can step into the van.

“Sit up front. In case you puke.” He instructs, grabbing the passenger side door and pulling it open for you. Waiting for the ground to just swallow you whole, you nod weakly again.

Bradley was right. It’s a twenty minute ride to the hotel. He just hadn’t warned you that it was going to be the longest twenty minutes of your life. Turin has a tram system and passing over the tracks, and the bumpy roads makes your stomach churn. Pasquale tries to make conversation but there’s not really much you have to say. Everyone behind you is in pretty good spirits, looking out of the windows and talking about the city.

“Alright, everyone gets a roommate — are we going to be mature about this and buddy up, or do I have to treat you like you’re six?”

You’re blinking at him now, knowing that no one here will want to share with you, hoping that you get assigned a room so that you can finally pass out. The hotel is ninety years old and it looks older, cracks through the paint and cobwebs in the corners, but you just can’t find it in you to care. Dust fills your nose and makes you blink like you’re going to sneeze. The entire place smells like cigarettes. Speaking of cigarettes, Bradley’s just itching for a couple of seconds away from you guys.

Everyone around you buddies up. Your eyes widen, finding that there are only seven students.

“Uh, no, no — you two cannot share a room. I’m not taking anybody home pregnant. Luke, you’re with me.” Bradley snaps his fingers, frowning sternly. You turn your head and watch as he takes his arm off of the girl’s shoulders. She whines, frowning at Bradley. “That goes for all of you actually. You’re all adults, just — I’m not your dad, don’t make me act like it. Okay?”

“Okay…” Come a few begrudging agreements as Luke sulks over to Bradley.

“Cool. That leaves you two.” Bradley decides, nodding to you and the girl who just had her evening’s plans ruined. You swallow, nudging the toe of your shoe into the faded red carpet under you. “Okay. I’m going to give you your keys, there’s one per room so don’t be a dick and lock your roommate out. Don’t lose your key, there’s a twenty euro replacement fee and I’m not paying it.”

What no one had mentioned to you about Italy was the stairs. You’re still fairly naive about it as you drag your suitcase up to the third floor — you’ve got a long summer ahead of you. Your room is at the furthest end of the hall. Bradley makes his location known to all of you, and then suggests that you try to get as much sleep as you can.

“Dibs on the bed by the window.” Your roommate, who you now know to be named Robin because of a conversation you heard as you were coming up the stairs, declares before the door is even open.

You’re far too tired to argue, and not really bothered by that kind of thing anyway.

It’s a twin room with dated paint on the walls and patterned sheets, heavy curtains covering the window and faded carpet under foot. You swallow softly as you look around you. Quickly, you realise what’s missing.

“What? — Not what you’re used to?” Robin teases as she lifts her bag and drops it onto the bed by the window. It’s most definitely not what you’re used to. Your mother wouldn’t touch this place with a ten foot pole and your father dismantles businesses like this one just for the fun of it.

Still, the decor isn’t your biggest issue. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Huh,” She stops to look around the room, frowning, then shrugs and turns back to her case. She unzips it and flips the top open. Your eyes land immediately on the box of trojans at the top of her belongings. “I don’t know. Ask Brad.”

You’ve never heard anyone call him Brad, or heard him introduce himself as that. You don’t like it. But, you turn and walk down the hall anyway. All that you want right

After approximately thirty seconds of peace, Bradley winces at the knocking on his door. Something in his gut tells him that it’s you, or something you’ve done, before he even answers.

“What?”

The force with which he swings the door open makes you jump. You almost shrink away from him, pushing your sweaty hair back off of your face, then remember everything that your father taught you about being taken seriously. You swallow, straightening up again, “Our room doesn’t have a bathroom in it.”

“There’s one at the end of the hall. It’s right next to your room.” Bradley answers, resting his hand on the chipped paint over the doorframe, nodding his head in the vague direction of it. He watches your face change in realization. You look more sick now than you had when you were hunched over that bin.

“Oh. It’s… a shared bathroom?”

“Yeah. It’s for the floor.” Bradley’s tone tells you that he thinks you’re even more stupid than you feel. You don’t even share a bathroom in your own home. Safety is the first thing that crosses your mind.

“What if someone tries to get in while I’m in there?”

“Locks are still a thing here.”

Luke snorts in amusement from inside of their room behind him.

“I know that,” Your tone slowly starts to stray from sheepish to snappy. It’s been a long day and being made fun of isn’t how you would like to end it. “But, I really need to take a shower and I—“

“Luke, go stand outside of the door until she’s done.” Bradley’s already turning away from the door, bored by his conversation with you and starting to pry open the buttons on his blue shirt.

“Me? — Why do I have to do it?” Luke frowns from his perch at the end of the twin bed closest to the door.

“Because I want her to shut up and quit whining at me, and you owe me a favour. Remember?”

It seems unprofessional for Bradley to be close enough to one of his students that they’re now owing each other personal favours. That’s something to think about another time. You shift back awkwardly as Luke pushes himself up from his bed and starts towards you.

“Alright. Go get your stuff.”

Exhausted, you’re on the verge of blacking out the entire time that you’re standing under the stream of water. It’s lukewarm and the pressure is poor, but it helps.

You brush your teeth quickly and dress yourself in your pyjamas. Sitting on the floor, Luke falls backwards into the bathroom as you tug it open.

Now laying on his back, you catch his gaze starting to wander. Even about to fall asleep standing, you’re awake enough to jump back before he can sneak a peek up your nightdress.

“Pig.” You mutter, stepping around him without thanking him for standing guard. He watches you wander back to your room and slam the door shut, then pushes himself up laughing.

He walks calmly back to his room and lets himself in, swinging the door shut behind him. Bradley’s on the bed by the window, a cigarette dangling from his lips and a stack of six books, all opened to different pages sitting in front of him.

“D’you think she’s really going to make it two whole months?”

Bradley looks up, scratching an itch on his bare shoulder and then taking the cigarette from his mouth. He exhales, then shakes his head with a breathy chuckle.

“Buddy, the sooner that she calls her dad to come and get her, the better.” He mutters, flicking ash from the cigarette into an empty water bottle and picking up his pen to scrawl a few notes onto the page of one of the books.

Luke drops down onto his bed and tucks his arms behind his bed. He wishes all of his professors were as cool as Bradley is. “She wears a nightdress like my freaking grandmother.”

Bradley scoffs, taking a long draw on the cigarette, his dog tags dangling between his collarbones as he flicks through the paperwork for the trip. His lips quirk up slightly as he shoots his friend and student a playful look, “Well, what does your grandmother wear?”

Luke pulls a face and then shrugs, running his hands through his feathery, raven coloured hair. “I don’t know, it comes down to like here. Hers was this cute little yellow with cap sleeves and a heart shaped kinda neckline.”

Bradley’s smirk grows around the thin cigarette as he looks over. “Didn’t you say your Mom was one of six kids?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Maybe your grandmother was onto something with those little nightgowns, huh?” Bradley taunts, chuckling and turning back to work while Luke gasps in horror at his side.

“You’re sick.” Luke complains, amused but playfully offended as he turns onto his side and presses his face into his pillow. Bradley just laughs to himself.

The next morning, you can’t help but notice that Luke seems to have modeled himself after Bradley. Both of them are wearing nearly the same thing. A half buttoned, cotton shirt — Bradley’s is a pale yellow, Luke’s is a deeper blue — and five inch shorts.

Once again, you’re late, he’s overdressed.

You’re in a cute little sundress with a sweet little purse in your shoulder and a pair of expensive, Dior sunglasses on your face.

“Did everyone eat?” Bradley asks, tucking his Ray-bans into the opening in his shirt by their arm. He’s got a baseball cap on today, his auburn curls peeking out from under it. You bet Luke’s pretty upset that he didn’t get the memo on hats. A chorus of quiet yes’ come from your class. “Good. Because lunch isn’t for another five hours and we’ve got some walking to do.

“Now, remember,” He pushes his hands into his pockets and looks straight at you. “You’re a big group of kids in a foreign city, so watch your stuff because someone will try to take it if you’re not careful.”

That seems like common sense. With Pasquale as your tour guide, you’re led through the streets of Turin. Bradley already seems to know his way around well enough, walking ahead of everybody else, studying the streets as he passes. This is his sixth summer consecutively spent in Europe, his fourth year spent in Italy. Turning his face towards the sun, indirectly looking up at the laundry hanging between apartments over his head, he misses it here more than anything.

As much as this is a research trip for himself and his work, it’s also somewhat of a cultural exchange. So, the first stop is a museum near the centre of the city. Today’s itinerary starts with this place, the museum of national something something. You cross your arms over your chest and look over the detailed architecture. It’s pretty, but you can’t pretend that you wouldn’t rather be sat on a rooftop in Manhattan with your girlfriends on this sunny morning.

Although, back there it would be the middle of the night, barely 3am. It still feels like 3am for you, you would have happily spent another five hours in bed just to avoid returning to that shared bathroom.

“Who knows what this place is?” Bradley stops and turns on his heel. Everyone seems to know at once, spouting off the name of the museum whilst you’re still standing there with your arms folded. “Cool. And who can tell me what Risorgimento is?”

“It was the nineteenth-century Italian movement of unification.” Abigail answers calmly, tucking a braid behind her ear. She’s well prepared for the day, wearing her backpack on her front so that she can keep an eye on it.

The streets are busy already, the centre of Turin at almost 8am is bustling with people trying to get to work and tourists trying to get to the sights.

In retrospect, it was a bad place to stop. Standing in front of a big museum with a group of students. It’s practically a target. You, with those fucking Dior sunglasses on your face, are a target. The man isn’t dressed like a thief. He’s wearing blue jeans and a green Ralph Lauren polo, walking quickly like he has somewhere to be. You don’t take any mind as he bumps into you, inhaling quickly as you’re surprised by the impact, but then stepping out of his way without much notice.

Bradley has watched as the man had sped up, knocking his shoulder into yours and curling his hand around the strap of your bag. With one swift tug, he has the strap off of your shoulder quickly. Your brows draw together, surprised and confused as you turn to look.

Immediately, Bradley steps forwards and catches hold of the back of the man’s navy shirt. He tugs hard and pulls the man back swiftly before you’ve even registered what was happening. Bradley tells him something in Italian, the man lets go of your bag accordingly and then sneers at your professor. He mutters something back that you don’t understand Bradley lifts his hands and shoves hard at his shoulders.

The man stumbles, sneering at you as he turns and hightails it away from your group.

“What did I tell you? — Watch your stuff.” Bradley mutters in annoyance, like it’s your fault that you were almost mugged. Your mouth opens to back with an immediate protest. He narrows his eyes at you. “I’m not going to babysit you this whole trip.”

“No one’s asking you to.” You bite back.

“Hey, he did a nice thing. Maybe stop being such a bitch.”

Bradley and you both turn to look at the same time, finding Robin tucked under Luke’s arm and looking at you like you just kicked her. You gaze darts quickly back to Bradley, waiting for him to scold her.

Instead, he just looks at you like it’s all your fault and then turns away, calling for the group to follow him inside. You flinch as someone bumps into your other arm, finding Pasquale smiling at you.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine.” You answer Bradley’s friend begrudgingly.

He’s older, maybe in his late forties or his early fifties. A little shorter than you, with a seemingly perpetual smile on his face. He guides you after your class with his hand on the elbow. “Seems like Italy doesn’t agree with you much,” You’re not certain if that’s a polite way of him saying that Bradley doesn’t like you much, you leave him without an answer anyway. “Stick with me, I’ll help you find your feet, miss.”

…

If you’re wondering what her nightgown looked like, it’s the yellow one on the right

tags:

@thedroneranger @batdanceq @wkndwlff @littlemissobsessedwitholdermen @sunflowerziva @cassiemitchell @himbos-on-ice @bradshawseresinbabe @damrlova @fudge13 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @sihtricswife @callsignvenus @callsign-joyride @harper1666 @krismdavis @sheisanangell @thecitysgraveyard

[cissi-sh01]

USO kit tier list based on my bias

(just the players I normally watch)

WTA:

Tier A+

coco - NB's design and colour choice always makes so much sense. the back side design and the width of the skirt's folds are supre cute 🥺 they actually use their brain when designing kits!

naomi - without the jacket its maybe just so so, but an absolute banger with the jacket on. should be remembered as a historically significant kit for tennis fashion. and the headphones ohmygawd 🥺🥺🥺 who ever think this kit is not cute can fight me

Tier A

maria - whenever she gets a tank top kit she serves hard. nice colour choice and skirt design by addidas (cant believe im saying that) so sad it only existed for 1 set 😭

marta - wilson just going with the 1 dress design that worked well in every slam and its still working well. the skirt's texure looked so nice in the wind

Tier B

dasha & karo - a bit boring but suits their vibes well

qinwen - same. would like some brighter colours but was fine

katie & bibi - the actual best nike WTA kit. lilac looks cute especially under sunlight, but the design is a bit too boring for me

Tier C

elena - colour is cute, she looks like a barbie in pink, but 0 design and 0 sense in the patterning choice. looks like some swim suit my mom would buy me when I was 10

aryna (nigh match version)- how dare they call that a custom kit i can do the same design in 10 mins

Iga - bisexual flag colour but a low saturation version. also points taken off for their kits starting to look like wet tissue 20 mins into a match

Tier D

Mirra & Paula - hate the colour hate the design. nike how dare you put that ugly ass kit on them die and rot in hell

jasmine - (a) its the same north american hard court swing kit asics making 0 effort as usual (b) i do not understand that colour choice like why dull reddish purple with bright orange. what made you think of that

ATP:

Tier A+

daniil- nice colours, nice jacket, nice little design around the chest part, nice shoes. wth lacoste you can actually design???????

Tier A

Adidas people - contrary to their RG series the purple-ish blue the used this time works very well with black & white and minimalist design

Carlos - black sleeveless will never not look nice on him but its still a bit boring. would love to have a bit more special texture, with that it will def be A+

Francis - the only person that got the good nike kit (i.e. the lilac kit) in ATP if im not mistaken

Tier B

lorenzo (musetti) i like guys who wear barbie pink and look proud wearing it

matteo - not super interesting design but colour is cute. also he looks nice in polo shirts

Grigor - standard lacoste design with reasonable colour choice

Tier B-

Jannik- the kit was okay and looked a bit better than i expected. im just still a angry about his 1st set

casper - its actually okay but he kind of looked exactly the same as his opponent so i really had a hard time watching 😭

Tier C

novak - i dont understand the design why so many squares and rectangles sir can you explain. it just makes him look more like a tennis robot with implanted AI

holger (the purple kit) - should have just taken the barbie pink one

ben - same with iga. seriously i would like to know how much ON has paid them to wear those wet tissue kits

Taylor - it looks fine but 0 design, just went for the safest choice

Tier D

Jack - (a) i do not understand the back side design (b) nike how did you make the T shirt look oversized for a 193cm tall and rather muscular athlete wtf

Alex - is that pattern choice meant to make his opponent dizzy by looking at him or something

[3416]

Why the Leafs should give Matthews and Marner a chance to play together

by Jonas Siegel | November 19, 2017 | The Athletic

MONTREAL — Auston Matthews and Mitch Marner werewaiting a while for this opportunity.

You could feel it in the excitement of the two youngest Leafs after they not only got to play together for the first time all season on Saturday in Montreal but connect on a couple goals in their team’s sixth straight win.

“Obviously me and Mitchy have a pretty good relationship off the ice – Marty as well,” Matthews said of himself, Marner, and Matt Martin, the third member of a trio Mike Babcock concocted in the second period of a 6-0 win. “Kind of gives you a nice spark when you play with a couple of your buddies that you don’t really get to play with a lot.”

Babcock threw cold water on their excitement pretty quickly. He said he planned to revert back to the line combinations he started with against the Canadiens when the Leafs hosted Matthews’ hometown Coyotes on Monday night.

But maybe the Leafs coach should give it a chance.

Matthews and Marner, for one, seem eager to pursue the connection. Both said they were curious about what it would be like to play with the other having barely done it so far in their young NHL careers. The two were on the ice together for just under 71  5-on-5 minutes last year and just over 11 minutes this year before Saturday night.

Both have also played consistently on separate power-play units.

“Yeah, of course,” Matthews said, when asked if he was intrigued to play with Marner. “We got a little bit of time together last year and never really – we made some plays and had a lot of fun, but I don’t think we ever really scored a goal so it’s nice to get out there with him and obviously create some offence and put some in the net.”

The pair are close. The kind of pals who drove to the rink together all of last season (though not this season with Matthews moving places). The kind who play video games and wear matching throwback suits — complete with fedoras. The kind who famously sang along to Bon Jovi’s “Livin’ On A Prayer” on the bench at about this time last year. The kind who finish pre-game warmups by passing pucks back and forth to one another before exiting the ice in near-unison.

“We’re very close with each other,” Marner said. “It’s exciting when you get out there and get to play with those guys.”

The connection might just work, too.

Marner hadn’t registered a single assist on Matthews’ first 50 goals in the NHL before setting up two (No. 51 and 52) against the Habs. He delivered a bullet backhand pass to set up the first one and added another when the American ripped his 12th of the season past backup Antti Niemi.

“I think when we first got together the chemistry wasn’t really all there,” said Marner, born four months before Matthews in 1997. “But I think in the third period we kind of turned it around and got back to what we wanted to do and got the puck towards the net.”

Though they’ve ripped off their longest win streak since Dec. 2014, it’s not as if the Leafs have been beating down the doors of the opposition, especially when it comes to the offence. They weren’t quite struggling with 15 goals in the previous five games (three on the power play), but they weren’t really electrifying either — especially without Matthews, who was playing his first game since Nov. 6 on Saturday.

“I think what our guys are finding is last year a lot of our games were way looser than this year. The opposition plays way tighter against us; there’s less room and so it’s harder for you,” Babcock said of the offensive grind prior to the game against the Habs.

What also had become evident before Matthews sat out four straight with a mysterious upper-body issue was a diminished connection between himself and William Nylander. Babcock actually broke up the duo in a Nov. 4 loss to St. Louis only to reunite them again two nights later.

Nylander had zero goals and only three assists in his previous eight games with Matthews (Oct. 23 – Nov. 6) and while the 20-year-old, who’s up to 21 points in 17 games, was still producing, he did so almost in spite of Nylander, who finally broke an 11-game goal drought on Thursday.

It’s also worthwhile for the Leafs to see what kind of chemistry exists between Matthews and Marner if only to answer lineup questions — both now and later.

(Photo by Mark Blinch via Getty)

Marner has only ever played with one centre consistently in Toronto and that’s Tyler Bozak, who might well be gone after this season. Since it’s unlikely that the Leafs other 20-year-old teams up with Nazem Kadri in a matchup role, Babcock might as well see what’s there with him and Matthews. The Leafs coach leaves himself only one centre otherwise (Bozak) for Marner to play with.

Then there’s the potential future in which Nylander slides over to centre and plays without Matthews — something that gets easier in theory if another winger finds chemistry with the team’s No. 1 centre.

Constructing a lineup with Matthews and Marner together is a little dicey, but if Babcock is willing to separate Leo Komarov from Kadri (a pairing he’s used almost without exception in recent years for defensive purposes) then something like this might work:

Zach Hyman – Auston Matthews – Mitch Marner

Patrick Marleau – Nazem Kadri – William Nylander

James van Riemsdyk – Tyler Bozak – Connor Brown

Matt Martin – Dominic Moore – Leo Komarov

Both Matthews and Marner are hoping their coach gives it a shot.

“Obviously it’d be nice to stay with him,” Marner said. “We’ll see what happens though.”

*Advanced stats courtesy of Natural Stat Trick

(Feature photo by Minas Panagiotakis/Getty Images)

[stomach-bugg09]

omg i absolutely love the way you write about the sully family. if it were possible and if it’s your cup of tea, i’d like to request your take on what the sullys would be like in modern day, and if you could incorporate fali and y/n’s relationship into it that would be cool.

a/n: thank you so much for the request !! this was a nice and fun one, very simple, very cute. i also warn you because i may have made this extremely american / east coast-ern based on the way i described their high school experiences , but i pray that it isn't too unenjoyable if you cannot quite relate to the east coast american high school life. hopefully you all enjoy. feedback + reblogs are always appreciated !!

tags: @pinkhotdogsfr @wxnderingthoughts @bonnibuckets @hjkshshjkhklhkl @liyahsocorro

sully family modern day headcanons ( feat. fali )

y/n

okay so obviously our babes is literally the best older sister, no matter what universe we’re in

she’s def the type to have gotten her license as soon as she possibly could, and she most definitely saved up for car since she was little—after getting a job and money, she honestly has the best car like it's so cute and personalized for herself

y/n is the uber for the siblings—when jake and neytiri are too busy, she is the one to drive everyone around

lo’ak and spider are literally ALWAYS needing rides somewhere

as payment, lo’ak and spider have to pay for her dunkin' ( except it doesn't really matter because she always buys them donuts either way )

on car rides, as long as her parents aren't in the car, she blasts music and lets the kids fight over aux

she’s the oldest, so i assume probably a senior in high school—she is actually so smart like that gpa is popping off, and she most definitely is like vice president of the student government or something

she runs winter track because she always gets so depressed and unproductive during that time of the year, so she tries to keep herself somewhat alive

in the spring, she manages the lacrosse team ( the same team that both fali + neteyam play in bc she’s #1 girlfriend and #1 sister )

she goes to literally every sports event or school event that her siblings are in—she doesn't miss one of lo’ak’s or neteyam’s games, kiri’s orchestra concerts, or tuk’s performances. she also drags fali with her to every single of these events ( not that he minds at all )

yes she’s very smart, but she has terrible geography skills or navigational knowledge—she’s managed to get lost in the very town she grew up in

she wears the same pair of converse every single day and refuses to throw them away even though they have absolutely no support and are about to rip and expose her entire foot.

she never gets sick and she literally hates it because she always wants an excuse to stay home from school ( she is far too responsible to skip class—the one time she did in freshman year, jake found out because she was literally so awkward and nervous when she got home )

whenever she has a lunch shift with one of her siblings—which always happens at least once because she has three of her four siblings in high school with her—she always doordashes something for them ( she knows exactly where to drop it off so she doesn't get in trouble )

carries group projects

neteyam

a sophomore probably based on his age

him and kiri are in a weird amount of classes together, but they don't complain ( they always cheat off each other )

he definitely is a chick magnet just because he’s attractive and nice, and an attractive and nice guy in sophomore year is truly a treasure

the type of guy to get everything ready the night before school to sleep in more

claimed the passenger seat of y/n’s car and is always the quickest to take over aux

really good music taste

he always complains about not having money, but he’s too busy to get a job during the school year due to his full student-athlete schedule ( basketball + lacrosse )

jake loves watching his son’s games

was on jv for both teams the year before, but he made varsity lacrosse this year and the sully family went out for a celebratory dinner

terrible at english, but really good at social studies because he’s actually interested enough to pay attention

chemistry makes him want to die.

absolutely adores going on car rides with his sister because they just scream music and rant — it's their therapy session

probably is dragged to parties by his friends but just ends up being the designated driver

absolutely done with lo’ak’s bs like oml can this freshie leave him tf alone ?? ( no. )

loves days he has lunch with y/n bc they always get some chipotle or something

kiri

hello guys she is amazing in hs like she has a small group of super close friends

stoner.

crystal girl fr with those balanced chakras

took art freshman year but hated it so now just does yearbook with her friends and it's super chill

has a handshake with y/n when they pass each other in the hallway

she and neteyam have an agreement where he cheats off of her for english and math, but she cheats off of him in social studies

they struggle through chemistry together

she plays cello because she randomly started in fourth grade and just never stopped because she found it nice to have something to focus on during her time off

overloads herself with honors and ap classes and her study habits make her regret it every year ( and yet, her gpa eats every single year )

wants to go to berkeley

helped y/n decorate the inside of her car when she first got it

def the type to wear band tshirts and when guys would ask her to “name five of their songs” she would pretend to be stupid because she thought it was funny ( even though she has a very big habit of hyper fixating on different bands + probably knows more about those bands than they did )

proud to say she never joined the stranger things hype ( it's like her biggest accomplishment )

tiktok addict

tried to watch marvel with lo’ak but she didn’t understand anything and ended up falling asleep every single time ( also complained about how annoying tony stark was )

lo’ak

this man is a complete menace

freshman spaz asf

literally always late to getting ready in the morning and y/n screams at him

just learned how to put on deodorant and is now in the middle of leaving behind axe body spray

tried out for soccer because his friends were and was absolutely flabbergasted when he made jv

played basketball with neteyam over the winter and they were absolute pains the entire season ( but they actually played well together, so you win some, you lose some )

always forgets his passwords to things even though he only ever uses the same rotation of five

banned from going to the bathroom during class because of how many times he has skipped class

obsessed with marvel to the point that, just before he entered high school, y/n had to tell him, “please you need to stop. you are giving geek.”

he always trusts his big sister’s judgement, but he still always goes to opening night of every marvel movie with his friends

don't even get me started on how he bagged tsireya

fali def set them up because he knew his close family friend would look so cute with his girlfriend’s younger brother ( he was correct. )

everyone is still floored at how tsireya remains attracted to him, despite his dumb jokes and the fact that he is completely head over heels for her

he always claims he was the rizz master, but… let’s be real… tsireya is the one who completely rizzed him up

like damn girl! that’s extremely impressive!

despite his annoying-ness, as some may put it, he is very respectful—thanks mama sully for drilling the idea into his head from birth that he must always treat every woman with respect

and papa jake who was just like, “yeah!” #feminist

lo’ak probably had an instagram that he only ever uses to post videos of him skating or something, although he occasionally posts videos of tsireya shredding it while surfing ( and he always reposts her stuff—no exceptions! )

tuk

this silly little girl

oh my goodness i love her

an absolute slay in the second grade classroom, like this girl has all the friends

and her bead crafts?? impeccable. out of this world. absolutely amazing.

totally has been sent to the principal for cussing out some guy picking on her or her friends ( thank the sully siblings for that influence )

jake definitely allows her to watch inappropriate movies with him when neytiri goes to bed early

neytiri only realized this when tuk quoted talladega nights one morning after watching an argument between her brothers ( “you've gotta cross the anger bridge and come back to the friendship shore.” )

jake was wheezing for breath

goes all out when sitting in her booster seat in y/n’s car—when her big sister blasts those lyrics, this girl whips screams out the rolled down window with her sofia the first sunglasses on

she is so cute i cannot

she’s never known a life without siblings—not once have jake and neytiri hired a babysitter

absolutely plays all sorts of kiddie sports because she wants to be just like her big brothers

complete soccer star, total baller, and a menace on the lacrosse field ( tbt to when she cross-checked someone a bit too hard )

definitely claimed the color pink and embraces it—she will argue all day with those boys who think it's a “weak girl color”

she once said, and i quote, “this weak girl color can break your arm, jimmy.” meanwhile, she swung a pink baseball bat in her hands at recess

that one got her in trouble for sure

neytiri was proud though

baby of the fam is literally going to grow to be the baddest boss

jake

he is such a military dad—i mean clearly, but especially so in this au because it's socially acceptable

he’s also so funny

has truly grown into the role of a sports dad, always smacking his lips as he rants about how they could improve their game during the car ride home after a game

neteyam and lo’ak want to kill themselves everytime

tuk takes its very seriously

he loves his girls so much

totally knows about kiri and what she does in her pastime ifykwim

he’s chill—been there, done that, just stay safe or else

keeps secrets for the kids from neytiri ( harmless secrets )

always ranting about music and stuff when music that was popular when he was a kid ( ex. beastie boys, any form of 90s hip hop or rap ) when he hears someone listening to it

was gifted the role of being the parent that takes the kids to the er if anything ever happens—based on the influx of sports in their family, stuff has happened, and he’s always there to take them to get stitches or whatever is needed

such a barbecue dad

he has tiktok, but it's full of an fyp that has food stuff and carpenter stuff

so many unfinished house projects

someone needs to save neytiri

speaking of…

neytiri

i love her so much

she’s so involved with her kids’ lives ( not to an unhealthy point, she gives them space )

is thoroughly invested in her children’s events and extracurriculars

major protective sports mom energy

definitely helps run concessions and sell tickets whenever they need extra help

so much road rage. like so so much.

hates when she isn’t driving—she needs the control

will not let y/n drive her anywhere

podcasts and audiobooks are her lifeline

tea drinker for sure

always attempts to test those keto diets but gives up after like three hours

i see her as a high school math teacher

the students respect her

they fear her

she totally makes her favorite students clear and they like adore her

loyal to her keurig

cherishes her mug from mother’s day a few years ago that reads number 1 mom

has pictures of her kids on her desk

always threatens her children that if they continue to misbehave, she’s going to replace their pictures at home with the pictures of her favorite students

sometimes they can't tell if she’s joking or not

best dressed mom ever

fali

oh my goodness this man

i think i fell for my own oc help

anyway

friend of the world

everyone knows him

type of person to have good grades based on his dazzling charisma alone

super athletic

student-athletes are where it's at

always drives to school with y/n, and they take turns driving

no matter who is driving, the car is always full of him, y/n, kiri, neteyam, lo’ak, and spider ( sullys’ next door neighbor )

on the rare occasion in which all six of them don't have stuff to do after school, they all go drive to shake shack and get milkshakes and cheesy fries ( for my lactose intolerant readers, fali always has emergency lactaid in his car for you )

the employees at chipotle know his exact order because of the amount of times he has been

he’s a burrito addict ( which is gross, because of all burritos… chipotle ?? )

fali and y/n’s favorite movie to watch together tangled, like they can recite every line together ( y/n plays flynn rider + fali plays rapunzel—they both play mother gothel, so i suggest staying far away during mother knows best )

couple goals—they were literally voted in the superlatives as the “mom and dad” of their senior class

nobody could disagree

when their team won states, y/n gave fali the biggest, cutest, most earth shattering smooch

everyone awed and took pictures

except for neteyam who just stood and watched, pretending to be annoyed that his big sister went to fali before going to him

he wasn’t that shocked though

anyway, they’re just the cutest ever

[sargeantposting]

ARTICLE: The Florida Man of Formula 1 (2023)

Source: Michael M. Grynbaum, The New York Times Series: F1, 2023

Logan Sargeant, the only American driver in Formula 1, is zipping around the narrow streets of Baku, Azerbaijan, at roughly 200 miles an hour. His head bounces inside the cockpit as a wheel shudders over a rumble strip. It’s hard to hear over the banshee shriek of his V6 engine, carrying three times the horsepower of a run-of-the-mill Porsche Carrera.

Then the noise stops, and Baku vanishes. We’re inside a low-slung brick building nestled in the Oxfordshire countryside. The track, projected onto a CinemaScope-sized wraparound screen, was a mirage, part of a sophisticated training simulator. (F1 rules prohibit driving the real cars between races.) Mr. Sargeant climbs out of a replica driver’s seat wearing athletic pants. He won’t need a fireproof suit until later.

In three weeks’ time, Mr. Sargeant will do this for real: wind whipping his visor, G-forces of up to six times his body weight pressing on his neck, the ever-present threat of a catastrophic crash as he is watched by roughly 70 million people around the world. For now, it’s time for lunch. “Is chili bad for you?” he asks, digging into a bowl at his team’s commissary. “I don’t think it’s that bad.”

Williams Racing, in Grove, England. It was founded in Oxfordshire in the 1970s, but it’s now an American subsidiary: a Manhattan private equity firm, Dorilton Capital, bought the company in 2020 for an estimated $200 million.

F1 teams employ hundreds of employees and spend hundreds of millions of dollars developing the world’s most sophisticated racecars.

Reaching Formula 1, the highest level of international motor sport, is a big step for Mr. Sargeant, 22, a South Florida native who began racing rudimentary cars known as karts at 6 years old and this year joined the Williams Racing team as the first full-time American F1 driver since 2007.

For Formula 1 itself, finding a hometown hero for American fans is a giant leap.

Although it is enormously popular in Europe, F1 struggled for decades to break into the United States. That began to change in 2016, when the sport was purchased for $4.4 billion by the Colorado-based Liberty Media, owned by the cable magnate John Malone. Liberty ramped up its social media — F1 had barely kept a YouTube page — and backed a popular Netflix documentary series, “Drive to Survive.” Once geared toward aging white men, F1 now has a younger and more diverse fan base. American TV viewership is up 220 percent from 2018, and the sport made $2.6 billion in revenue last year.

Still, a subset of F1 devotees complain about what they see as an overemphasis on entertainment and ginned-up drama. Under Liberty, they argue, pure racing is taking a back seat to cheap tricks to reel in casual viewers. And they often use a dirty word for it: Americanization. “It is becoming more and more like Formula Hollywood,” Bernie Ecclestone, the 92-year-old Briton who built F1 into a global business, griped last year. “F1 is being made more and more for the American market.”

The backlash reached a crescendo at last week’s Miami Grand Prix, which was added in 2022 as a showpiece for American fans. In a prizefight-style pre-race ceremony, the rapper LL Cool J introduced the 20 drivers one by one amid swirling smoke and a squad of cheerleaders. Nearby, Will.i.am conducted a live orchestra playing the rap song he recently recorded with Lil Wayne as part of a “global music collaboration” with Formula 1. (The lyrics rhyme “Max Verstappen,” the name of the sport’s top driver, with “your champion.”)

“Pandering to the American audience is killing @F1,” wrote one fan on Twitter, echoing criticism that bubbled up across numerous F1 websites. Even the racers complained: “None of the drivers like it,” groused Lando Norris, a Briton who drives for McLaren. Undeterred, Liberty announced that the bombastic pre-race sequence would be featured at several more grands prix this year.

In the United States, F1 has long been associated with a certain European mystique, most famously, the louche glamour of the Monaco Grand Prix.

In the United States, F1 has long been associated with a certain European mystique. Its drivers race across the Ardennes forest (Circuit de Spa-Francorchamps in Belgium), the plains of Lombardy (Italy’s Autodromo Nazionale di Monza) and, most famously, the louche glamour of the Monaco Grand Prix. The sport’s stateside image could be summed up by the 2006 comedy, “Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby,” which featured Sacha Baron Cohen as a pretentious French F1 driver named Jean Girard, a snooty Eurotrash foil to Will Ferrell’s macho NASCAR cowboy.

In 2023, F1 can feel a bit more Ricky Bobby than Jean Girard. In Miami, drivers circled a track built in the parking lot of the Dolphins football stadium, past an artificial Monaco-style “harbor”: blue-painted asphalt topped with ersatz yachts. A new Las Vegas race in November will have cars zooming down the Strip past Caesars Palace. Meanwhile, traditional races in France and Germany are gone.

Katy Fairman, a journalist based in Brighton, England, who runs the F1 podcast “Small Torque,” said she was surprised by the spectacle when she attended a race in Austin, Texas. “There were girls with pompoms,” she said. “I remember watching it and thinking, Oh my gosh, this is so different from anything I’d seen F1 do in a long time.”

Ms. Fairman conceded that some Europeans find the American hullabaloo “tacky.” But she added: “When it’s something to do with America, I think Europeans are quite judgmental. I think it’s just a bit of lighthearted fun. You guys like to have a party.”

The arrival of Mr. Sargeant, who grew up about an hour’s drive from the Miami racetrack, has spurred new interest, including a profile and photo shoot in GQ, and he’s happy to play the part. “What’s up America, let’s bring that energy!” he shouted to the cameras after LL Cool J introduced him as “the local boy done good.”

But as with F1, there are growing pains. In Miami, Mr. Sargeant finished last, his race ruined on the first lap when he damaged a front wing. After the checkered flag, he apologized to his team, his voice barely a whisper: “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe it.”

Weeks earlier, in an interview in England, Mr. Sargeant had demurred about the pressure of wearing the stars and stripes. “I try not to get too caught up in the talk of the role of ‘first American,’” he said. “It’s still very early for me, and I have a lot to learn still.”

If Mr. Sargeant doesn’t perform, there are dozens of drivers eager to take his spot. “At the moment,” he said, “I just have to worry about staying here.”

For a globe-trotting athlete, Mr. Sargeant can be soft-spoken and endearingly self-conscious. 

‘I just want to get back in the gym.’

Before his tough Miami weekend, Mr. Sargeant was asked how he would celebrate a top 10 finish. “Honestly, it might sound lame, but probably just go back to my house and get in my bed for another night before I go back to London,” he replied. “That’s all I want to do.”

For a wealthy, handsome, globe-trotting athlete, Mr. Sargeant can be soft-spoken and endearingly self-conscious. It’s not unusual for someone who, like a tennis prodigy or Olympian gymnast, has devoted their life since childhood to a sole pursuit.

Mr. Sargeant was 6 when he and his brother Dalton got a kart from their parents for Christmas. “No one in the family was really even that much into racing,” Logan said. “We just picked it up as a hobby, something to do on the weekend.” He began winning junior races around the country — too easily. To reach the next level and pursue Formula 1, he’d have to leave behind his friends and beloved fishing excursions for life on a different continent: “We just needed a higher level of competition, and at the end of the day, that was in Europe.”

Mr. Sargeant left Florida before his 13th birthday, bouncing between Italy, Switzerland and Britain as he raced on the European junior circuit; in 2015, he became the first American to win the Karting World Championship since 1978. “As a kid, it was tough,” he recalled. “Coming from Florida, being outdoors all the time on the water, great weather — it was literally vice versa.” He eventually settled in London, where he spends most days working out with a trainer. “I get away from a race weekend, and I just want to get back in the gym,” he said. “I hate that feeling of leaving slack on the table.”

It is incredibly difficult to nab a seat in Formula 1. Today’s drivers are physical dynamos trained to optimize their reflexes and performance levels down to how well they can withstand jet lag — critical in a sport that this year will include 23 grands prix spread over five continents. F1 teams employ hundreds of employees and spend hundreds of millions of dollars developing the world’s most sophisticated racecars. But it’s ultimately up to the driver to execute.

It also helps to have money. Lewis Hamilton, the seven-time world champion and F1’s only Black driver, is an exception, having grown up on a London council estate. Many F1 competitors are the sons of multimillionaires (and some billionaires) who can bankroll pricey travel and high-tech cars.

Mr. Sargeant falls into the scion category. He hails from a wealthy Florida asphalt shipping family. His uncle, Harry Sargeant III, is a former fighter pilot and onetime finance chair of Florida’s Republican Party who has been sued by the brother-in-law of King Abdullah II of Jordan and whose name turned up, tangentially, in the 2020 impeachment of former President Donald J. Trump. (Harry was not accused of any wrongdoing.)

Logan’s father, Daniel Sargeant, worked alongside Harry until the brothers had a falling out. In a 2013 lawsuit, Harry accused Daniel of misdirecting $6.5 million in corporate funds “for the purpose of advancing the international cart racing activities” of his sons, Logan and Dalton; that litigation was eventually settled.

In 2019, Daniel Sargeant pleaded guilty in federal court in New York to foreign bribery and money laundering charges related to his business dealings abroad. He is free on a $5 million bond and is awaiting sentencing. A Williams spokesman said that Logan Sargeant was not “in a position to comment” on any of the legal matters involving his family.

In F1, none of this particularly stands out. The mother of Mr. Sargeant’s Williams teammate, Alexander Albon, was jailed in Britain for swindling millions of pounds in fraudulent sales of high-end cars. A Russian racer, Nikita Mazepin, was booted from the sport after his oligarch father, a close ally of President Vladimir V. Putin, was sanctioned following the 2022 invasion of Ukraine.

James Vowles, the Williams team principal, said in an interview that he hired Mr. Sargeant for his speed, not his U.S. passport. “I’m incredibly pleased that the sport is growing in America, but I think it would be anything but disingenuous to say that Logan’s here for any other reason than I think he’s got this pure talent,” he said.

In his F1 debut in Bahrain in March, Mr. Sargeant finished 12th, outpacing this year’s two other rookies. “He has this insatiable desire to be better, to want more,” Mr. Vowles said. “He’s a perfectionist, and I like that in him.”

Tooting around in a Vauxhall Astra

Britain, where Formula 1 originated in 1950, remains the sport’s spiritual home, where most of its 10 teams are based. Williams was founded in Oxfordshire in the 1970s, but it’s now an American subsidiary: a Manhattan private equity firm, Dorilton Capital, bought the company in 2020 for an estimated $200 million.

It was an important cash infusion for a team that had struggled to keep up with rivals. Manufacturers like Mercedes-Benz pour enormous resources into their F1 teams, which double as an elaborate global marketing campaign and an in-house innovation farm; tech developed for F1, like engines that recycle braking energy as an accelerant, can trickle into consumer vehicles.

Formula 1 car simulators at the Williams Racing factory.

Formula 1 drivers practice on sophisticated training simulators.

The Williams campus is a humdrum brick pile that could be mistaken for an office park — a far cry from McLaren’s space-age complex an hour’s drive away. Many F1 teams provide their drivers with a high-end sports car for personal use; Mr. Sargeant commutes in a Vauxhall Astra, a compact.

Even the team’s sponsors are relatively down-market; whereas the official watch of Ferrari is Richard Mille (starting price: $60,000), Williams has a deal with Bremont, whose timepieces retail for significantly less. (On a recent visit, a Williams press aide was quick to extract a spare Bremont watch from his pocket and ensure Mr. Sargeant was wearing it whenever a photographer hovered.)

Given the huge costs, corporate partnerships are crucial to F1, part of the reason the American market, with its abundance of affluent consumers and wealthy brands, has proved so tempting. Gerald Donaldson, a journalist who has covered F1 for 45 years, recalled how cars were gradually taken over by corporate logos starting in the late 1960s.

“Marlboro paid all the Ferrari bills, including the drivers, for many years,” he said in an interview. “There are eager companies who want the publicity.” Mr. Sargeant’s car features ads for Michelob Ultra beer and an American financial firm, Stephens. In Miami last weekend, beachgoers spotted an airborne banner reading “Go Logan!” alongside the image of a Duracell battery.

Last year, the Miami race was viewed on ABC by 2.6 million people, the biggest American audience for a live F1 telecast. Ratings for this year’s race fell about 25 percent, perhaps a result of a duller-than-usual season dominated by one team, Red Bull.

Still, viewing data show that F1 is expanding beyond affluent cities associated with elite sports: In 2022, its top five American TV markets included Asheville, N.C., and Tulsa, Okla. ESPN is clearly betting on more growth. When the sports network renewed its broadcast rights last year, it agreed to pay $90 million annually — up from the $5 million-a-year deal it signed in 2019.

Liam Parker, a former adviser to Boris Johnson who now leads communications at F1, said the sport was intent on rectifying past mistakes. “We were too arrogant,” he said. “We couldn’t understand why the American fan base wasn’t falling in love with us.” But he also pushed back on the complaints that Liberty’s efforts to raise the entertainment factor had stripped F1 of something essential.

“This whole argument of ‘Americanization,’ it’s a very crude way to describe things,” he said. “We shouldn’t ignore things that can improve things for new and core fans. It’s about giving people more choices in the modern era. It’s modernization of access to everyone.”

Mr. Hamilton, arguably the biggest celebrity of the current F1 lineup, has offered his own endorsement of Liberty’s approach. “I mean jeez, I grew up listening to LL Cool J,” he told reporters in Miami. “I thought it was cool, wasn’t an issue to me.”

For all the debates over elitism, good taste and corporate rap collaborations, the core appeal of F1, when you get right down to it, may be something simpler — something Mr. Sargeant got at when asked in the interview if he had loved cars as a kid.

“I absolutely love driving, as you can imagine,” he said. “But to be honest, I’m not one of those people who studies cars and, you know, likes to know every detail of every single car. It doesn’t really interest me.”

“The part that interests me,” he concluded, “is driving them as fast as I can go.”

Eliza Shapiro contributed reporting from Miami. Kitty Bennett contributed research. Michael M. Grynbaum is a media correspondent covering the intersection of business, culture and politics.  A version of this article appears in print on May 14, 2023, Section BU, Page 1 of the New York edition with the headline: The Florida Man Of Formula 1.