#rugby tie

[yourcoffeeguru]

GPS Golden Gallopers Rugby Team Neck Tie and Engraved Cufflinks Boxed Set || SWtradepost - ebay

[doctorwhommm]

got silly with this one ◡̈

[01libra]

A friend just called my aesthetic “sports academia” bc I’m an unhinged sports fan underneath the veneer of an academia persona 🤣

[ahorcado]

[captainstressed]

absofuckinglutely love murder, she wrote

[phoenix-maxtorx24]

[debtsunpaid]

tags for hellblazer comics CHAS CHANDLER, cab driver, mob affiliate, and best friend! his song is 'the eton rifles' by the jam.

[alpha-mag-media]

Fiji tragedy as Sam Matavesi’s dad dies ahead of England Rugby World Cup tie – just a week after team-mate’s son’s death | In Trend Today

Fiji tragedy as Sam Matavesi’s dad dies ahead of England Rugby World Cup tie – just a week after team-mate’s son’s death Read Full Text or Full Article on MAG NEWS

[ur-mag]

Fiji tragedy as Sam Matavesi’s dad dies ahead of England Rugby World Cup tie – just a week after team-mate’s son’s death | In Trend Today

Fiji tragedy as Sam Matavesi’s dad dies ahead of England Rugby World Cup tie – just a week after team-mate’s son’s death Read Full Text or Full Article on MAG NEWS

[oscar-piastri]

WHO DECIDED NOT TO TAKE THE PENALTY KICK

[pseudowho]

Still got it

Artwork by Mmiyoart (2021)

The kids are teenagers, so you and Kento are just their boring parents...right?

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Imagine you and Nanami Kento as parents, but older now, in your forties, and the kids are teenagers at Jujutsu High (much to Kento's displeasure and concern).

The two of you always kept your work life separate to home; the kids knew what the two of you do of course, they all know Curses and Cursed techniques, your two daughters and a son being in possession of these talents themselves.

But you and Kento never come home in mission-wear. You're always patched up by Shoko, one of your oldest and dearest friends, before you walk through the door. Kento never winces as he cooks dinner in a fresh shirt, but behind your bedroom door at night, you gently push his shirt off his shoulders and bathe his wounds, gently kissing his bruises, his head resting back between your breasts as your arms curl round him from behind. You never discuss your kills in front of the kids, the evenings instead, full of talk of exams, arguments with best friends, chastising for using phones at dinner time.

You and Kento make sure you barely overlap at Jujutsu High, teaching students in the other years instead. Your daughters and your son know, in a vague way, that you're both respected First and Second Grade sorcerers in your own right, but to them you're just mum and dad.

Until, one day, that changes. Your three kids, all promising Second Grade sorcerers, and committed to the cause, get into trouble. The Curse they're sent to eliminate is so much stronger than they imagined. Your eldest daughter fights on bravely as your son carries their sister, wounded, to safety. All three are filled with terror as the Curse begins to overwhelm them, their short lives with you and Kento, their adoring parents, flashing in front of their eyes, wondering how the two of you would ever recover from their deaths.

Then, in a flash of black and red, Nanami Kento steps into the fight. A colossal wave of Cursed energy rolls over the children, stunned, breathless, eyes wide as their father, who does maths homework with them, who kisses them all goodnight at bedtime, who bakes at the weekends, instead now ruthlessly, effortlessly wipes the floor with the Curse that nearly killed his babies.

Kento is a demon in battle, tie ripped off, blunt blade whirling, his battle-hardened body just as imposing and lithe as it was in the years before the kids were born. The hands that held theirs when they were tiny, that threw them around ever-so-gently during play-fights, now wielded as weapons with murderous intent.

Even more alarmed are the children, when you appear beside Kento, and as the Curse staggers on its last legs, they hear you shout to Kento- "Throw me!" and, with not an ounce of hesitation, Kento tosses you like a rugby ball, for you to land the killing blow on the Curse.

You are smooth, meticulous, concentrated while making light work of a messy job. The children hear their father hum in approval of you as you take the Curse to task for its crimes against your babies.

Not even sparing the withering corpse a glance, you and Kento rush to your children. You hold your son and eldest daughter's faces, eyes full of tears as you check them all over for damage, their hearts swelling when you praise them for taking care of each other, for doing such a fantastic job holding out until you both arrived.

Kento drops to his knees beside his wounded youngest daughter, gripping her close to him, no less mighty and powerful after years of marriage and raising children. Nanami Kento manages the first and only reverse-cursed technique heal of his whole life, and repairs his daughter's wounds. He holds her to him and weeps quietly as she reassures him, wholly her mother's daughter. Kento grips his son gently around the back of the neck, pulling him down for a tight hug, his son almost breaking at Kento's familiar rumble praising him for prioritising his sister's safety, telling his son he's so proud of the man he's becoming.

Days later, and with the children now recovered, rumours of Nanami-sensei and Nanami-sensei's scathing criticism of and attack on the higher-ups is the talk of the Jujutsu High students. The children are silent throughout, still stunned by the overwhelming skill of their parents.

One of the other students jokingly raises the incident to your kids one day; "Oh man. I wouldn't like to have your parents mad at me. I'd never get over disappointing them."

"Are they...that much of a big deal?" your son asks his friend weakly. His friend raises his eyebrows, amazed, laughing.

"You mean the one and only legends, the Nanami-sensei's? Who the hell did you guys think raised you?"

You and Kento walk down the steps towards them, hands brushing together but not holding, keen to maintain professionalism at school. The children watch as your eyes meet his, love passing between you both, and wonder how they had thought of you as their boring mum and dad for all these years.

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[yourcoffeeguru]

GPS Golden Gallopers Rugby Team Neck Tie and Engraved Cufflinks Boxed Set

[luveline]

bEGGING for something with the marauders with drunk reader at a halloween party!!! make it literally anything you want follow ur heart ily and ur writing is AMAZING!!!!

thank you, ily ♡ modern au, fem

The rugby uniform felt like a funny idea at the time, but now you're cold and wondering how James manages to stay warm when he plays. You must ask him. 

He sits on the couch with Remus and another friend, Frank. You like Frank but he's not one of your boys, leaving you no options —you have to slide yourself between Remus and James, emphasis on have to. Remus touches your waist unthinkingly as you do, like he might catch you if you fell. 

James is ecstatic to see you as always. "Where have you been? I was about to send out the search party." 

He's been very, very pleased with you upon the reveal of your costume. Like, pleased enough to take a handful of your thigh and squeeze at the soft inner part greedily. You lean back into Remus, enjoying the feeling and wanting his comfort. He's used to it, and  he adapts by pressing his face indulgently to the side of your head. 

You giggle. This is usually a nice feeling, but drunk? You're euphoric. 

"You can't stray too far, lovely, I need my victim," Remus says. 

"Where have your fangs gone?" you ask, pointing at your neck. "I made the bite mark so perfect. Everyone will think I have rabies if you don't commit." 

James laughs like you're hilarious. Later, you'll find out that you didn't quite say every word that you thought you said, and that you'd been slurring your words into one another to create Frankenstein's sentences. 

"Everybody already thinks you have rabies," James says. He's wearing a chef's costume from a show he likes, a white shirt that's sleeves strain against his biceps and a blue apron. Sirius spent an hour drawing tattoos into his brown skin with a sharpie. "That's why we've decided to put you down." 

"I'll have one last night of passion with her first, if you don't mind," Sirius says, announcing his presence. 

You like the sound of that, lifting yourself away from the other two boys and their touches to take Sirius' fine hands. He's in a button up and tie, the sticker on his chest proudly proclaiming, Hello, my name is: Dave.

"You're here to kiss me, right?" you ask.

Sirius grins and presses a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. "My little alcoholic, you smell like lambrini. What did we say about lambrini?" 

"Uh, that it makes me sloppy drunk." 

"Exactly!" He kisses your cheek, working an arm around your shoulder as though showing you off with pride to the other boys. "My darling, you're so smart." 

"Not that smart, she still drank the lambrini." 

"Remus, don't start," Sirius admonishes. "You just hate that she chooses me when she's drunk." 

"You're her enabler," James says, "of course she does. But before she was drunk she chose to dress as me for Halloween, so if anyone is the favourite–" 

"Oh, please don't start," Remus says. 

The boys start, arguing over who your favourite is. It's a silly pass time with no real merit but no malice, either, and you're just drunk enough to goad them on. "Maybe Remus should be my favourite. After all, he's my vampire. Our love is, like, eternal." 

The furrowed brow he gets whenever the other two boys debate slips. "It's so eternal," he says, nodding confidently. "Quite right, dove." 

"Eternal doesn't mean better." 

"Then what does it mean, Sirius?" 

You decide that James' lap looks comfortable and that you might be here for a long time, so you push his legs down flat and sit carefully (not very carefully in reality, but in your heart) on his thighs, socked feet pulled up onto the couch, sideways and skewiff in his company. 

"Well, obvious winner," James says, encompassing your back with a big arm, pulling you into him. Under his hand your shoulders feel like a more delicate system; you aren't necessarily small, but his touch feels so everywhere, a pervasive feeling of safety and comfort in the palm of his hand where it grasps you. 

"You have the more comfortable seat," Sirius says nonchalantly. "It means nothing." 

Remus pulls one of your socks up where it's slipping down your calf and Sirius interrupts the arguing to ask if you need a glass of water. You don't have favourites. They're each incredibly lovely in their own way. 

[frownyalfred]

Do you have any Thomas Wayne headcanons ? <3

has the unique ability to curl up and nap anywhere despite being 6 foot+ (it’s where Bruce gets the ability to sleep in the field from)

played rugby in college

recruited Alfred himself when Alfred, in the employ of another family as a valet, herded Thomas politely away from a car with the employer’s children waiting inside (Martha was pregnant or about to be and Thomas was impressed)

would box with Alfred on slow nights, yes shirtless (Martha pretended not to watch but she’d peek)

Bruce slept more in his arms than the crib or anywhere else for his first few weeks of life

brilliant but spacey at times. Martha gave up trying to help/remind him so sometimes he’d show up to fundraisers/galas/events sans tie, socks, etc

hated being in those social circles and considered his medical peers and the staff at WE (Lucius Fox, etc) as his real social circle

the definition of quiet wealth, if you saw him on the street you wouldn’t guess he was so extravagantly wealthy

worked the ER for a long time, and saw the worst of Gotham (via its victims) which led to increased donations and the establishment of several additional charities

met Martha on a beer crawl and was entranced when she turned him down 3-4 times before finally agreeing to date him

was a bit of a womanizer before he got married, but after he met Martha his eyes never strayed, not even once

if Martha kicked him out of bed he would whine and sleep at the foot of the bed on the floor instead of literally any of the 24 bedrooms in the Manor or like, the couch

defended his choice to marry Martha to both his family and hers (no one liked the match)

it took him longer to die in that alley than people realized. Alfred, when reading the autopsy report, believed it was due to his need to ensure Bruce was safe. Martha died nearly instantly.

[kyletogaz]

i’m supposed to go back to writing but i’m too wired so i’ll talk about my headcanons for kyle instead

has two moms

is the middle child (has a younger & older sister)

he’s bisexual

has a dick piercing

loves to eat pussy for breakfast

terrible at basketball but loves to watch it

is an excellent chef (shares his recipes on tiktok)

hates beer

loves hockey, rugby, soccer

loves puzzles

can sing

says he’s not a dancer (that’s a lie)

hates golf (even tho he lets price drag him out to the course anyway)

favorite color is blue, sometimes green

can tie a cherry stem with his tongue

[inkdrinkerworld]

scenario where reader trips or someone accidentally pushes her into beefy!james but he’s sturdy so he doesn’t even budge but his pecs provide a nice cushion to fall back onto lol

oh oh this is rugby!james and reader’s meet cute!!! set in collage!!

the party was in full swing. apparently rugby was a big deal on this side of town and the university had the best team- supposedly.

you’re not into rugby, you barely understand a handful of the rules but an excuse not to hear your roommate moaning all night wasn’t going to be passed up by you.

you were making your way out of the kitchen when three guys ran past you, shoving you out of the way and into someone else.

“fuck,” you grumble, holding your cup behind you so it doesn’t spill all over the man whose hand wraps around your waist to steady you.

you hadn’t been so lucky, your shirt is wet with vodka.

“you alright?” he asks softly, his other hand reaching to rub your back.

as you look up your heart hammers in your throat. the man holding you is gorgeous.

like carved from marble beautiful. he’s got on round framed glasses that make his eyebrows look even sharper, his brown eyes melty with concern.

his nose is a little crooked but still pretty. and he’s got full lips that look a little too enticing.

“yeah,” you manage to breathe, pushing off him. he’s huge- beefy is the better word. his shoulders are broad, his arms are corded with muscles that you see clearly from his t shirt. “sorry about bumping into you.”

the man shakes his head, the curls he’s got tied back bouncing free from his hair tie.

“s’nothing, those guys are idiots.” his chin juts to the men who’d bumped into you, they’re all currently trying to do some kind of drinking game.

“thanks for not letting me fall,” you pause when you realise you don’t know his name.

“james.” he offers easily and you smile.

“y/n,” you introduce yourself and he smiles too- showing off two deep dimples in his cheeks. god, it’s like the crafted him with not skipping a single detail.

“wanna change your shirt? i think i’ve got my hoodie here somewhere.” james offers easily and you wonder if he’s always so pleasant.

“you won’t miss it?” you ask, feeling like you’re flirting but you’re not sure.

“nah, would rather you have it, pretty girl.”

so you nod, flustered by his nickname and james points to the chairs behind you.

“here,” it’s a black hoodie that looks so soft, and as you take it you notice it’s got the school’s rugby emblem on it.

“didn’t realise you were a player.” you say and james grins- all wide and happy.

“s’alright, i have a helmet on most times, hides my identity.” he jokes and you giggle.

“like clark kent,” you hold the hoodie up to your nose discreetly. “thanks james, i’ll find you tomorrow to give it back.”

james nods, “don’t sweat it, pretty girl. whenever you see me you can give it back.”

james is definitely flirting with you.

james’ name is shouted across the living room and he grimaces, “gotta go, but it was nice bumping into you.”

“yeah it was,” you mumble to yourself as james jogs over to where his name was shouted from. you make it to the bathroom quickly stopping off your shirt and fitting the hoodie on- james smells lovely is the first thought you have.

like roasted marshmallows, vanilla and brown sugar. maybe you won’t rush to give him the hoodie back just yet.