#coach bitty

[ericbttle]

Love thinking about Coach as a grandpa.

Jack and Bitty are at a wedding with their four year old daughter for one of Bitty’s relatives down in Georgia. She’s been running around with the other kids for most of the reception but it’s getting later and she just wants to sleep except both her Dads are dancing together and Suzanne is chatting with her sister and mother. But then she sees Coach sittin at one of the tables and sure, one of his in laws is talking at him, but he spots her almost instantly. He smiles and waves her over and she feels her eyelids already getting heavier. She doesn’t even have to say anything, just lifts up her arms.

He quickly swoops her up and sits her on his lap, “They tired ya’ out, huh?”

She nods and rests her head on his shoulder, wrapping her little arms around his neck to support herself but he’s got her. He’s always been good with the quieter moments.

#omgcp #coach bittle #eric bittle #jack zimmermann #zimbits #he used to do the same thing with bitty when he was younger #just be that nice source of quiet in such a loud family #idk he just seems like he’s got the same vibes as my grandpa

[parvuls]

#august 22 tweets #august 22 reread #bitty sitting to the side quietly sipping his coffee and seething while his bros talk shit about football #bitty (in a very rare direct text to coach): these boys mean well. but they're so wrong. #coach (outwardly unaffected but inwardly beaming because his son texted him about a common interest): #you tell them what's what junior #football coach son bitty is a side of bitty I just want to peel apart and adore for a while

[gingerjargogle]

“I believe in Believe” 💙❤️⚽️

If you haven’t seen Ted Lasso, I cannot recommend it enough!! I had to draw Ted and Coach Beard 💛 It’s my new feel-good comfort show with so many great characters, a lot of great moments, and a really wonderful story. It’s low key turned me into a football fan, now I’ve just got to learn the rules ⚽️😂

If you’ve seen the show, who’s your favorite character? If you haven’t, give me your best guess at what you think it’s about 🤔

#ted lasso #coach beard #I believe in believe #be like a goldfish #richmond #Richmond greyhounds #apple tv #jason sudeikis #the ginger draws #artists on tumblr #my art #gingerjargogle #procreate #digital art #illustration #art #lil bitties

[fffuckthelaxbros]

Newsroom AU?

#thinking about how much I vibe with coach!bitty #and ep!bitty is only a little bit to the left #anyway. i just rewatched the pilot and ‘only one person knew how to get in contact with you’ ‘IT WAS YOU!!’ still makes me laugh so hard

[jrueships]

the rockets cant even beat the offroad warriors R U Kitten Me

#i never thought we would but #it would have been nice 😔 #when u are an itty bitty hermit krab skuttling for wins you must take advantage of every soaksponge you can Get #let me coach coach

[bulliestrolls]

in an alternative universe where Brozone didn't break up and raised Bitty B properly, Floyd was absolutely a baseball coach for his team.

John Dory tried to get him to cheat before in his games and I think Floyd gave him a dead stare during every game after that.

Their baseball team name is 'The Cuddlebugs' if you care

#brozone #floyd trolls #my art #dreamworks trolls #floyd is an amazing coach he's a sporty fellow in his youth i like to think

[ohyoufool]

jacks women’s March madness NCAA bracket gets pinned to the espn homepage as a “celebrity pick” or whatnot which is cute. Yay! Go Jack! Big Internet Moment! Everyone Is So Proud!

Meanwhile Bitty is sleeping with the pillow over his head because Jack has been up at 3am hunched over the computer for the last WEEK muttering “what….. oh my god…… amazing….” at Caitlyn Clark’s stat line and tape.

and lest we forget! Bitty is a creature of the internet. you KNOW he would be keeping up on the sedona prince drama. he's been lowkey following her since the pandemic! how could he not! she exposed the inequities of march madness ncaa basketball, rose to fame as a queer icon, and had a messy public lesbian breakup. BITTY WOULD KNOW ABOUT IT.

so I would imagine dinner conversations at their house during this march are basically heated debates about actual players and teams qualifications and trying to weigh tara vanderveer's experience as a coach versus upstart programs. AND you know they are both lowkey rooting for TCU because of the gay lore of it all

#sorry the wbb ncaa narrative is taking over my LIFE. #omgcp #i speak #omg check please #jack zimmermann #omgcheckplease #zimbits #eric bittle #check please #March madness

[juyeonszn]

JE NE SAIS QUOI

PAIRING jacob bae x f!reader

WORD COUNT 7.33k

GENRES smut ﹒fluff ﹒itty bitty angst

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, strangers to ?? to lovers, volleyball team captain!jacob (ohhhh ive been waiting for this one..), lots of 97 liner cameos, jacob is an honorary tbz frat member but isn’t actually a member lol, reader is down bad for him, mentions of alcohol, volleyball terms that i learned from haikyuu 😭, an annoying ex girlfriend, AURKAY here we go: bathroom sex, wall sex, bathroom sink counter sex, and mirror sex all in one, doggy style and also missionary? i guess?, NO FOREPLAY BUT FUCK IT WE FALL LIKE SOLDIERS FOR REAL, marking-ish, unprotected sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, and everyone’s favorite! creampie!, a cutesy ending

SUMMARY jacob thought the concept of fraternities was stupid. so stupid that despite every single one of his friends being in one, he still refused to join. however, after meeting you at one of the tbz parties, he’s starting to think maybe they’re not that horrible.

MORE HELLAURRRR ok i know this is 45 mins overdue but i barely finished this last night and i worked at 5 am this morning so 😭 ANYWAYYY this fic is actually my favorite so far… idk i just have this natural writing affinity when it comes to jacob which u can tell by the length…. if u enjoyed pls reblog! and don’t forget to check out the other fics in the series!

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies @vernyangel @ericlvr

TAGLIST @millksea

SERIES MASTERLIST

“And there’s another point for the IST U Bears. Wow these boys are on fire tonight.”

The announcer’s voice booms throughout the gymnasium, intertwining with the cheers of the crowd. They all sound like the buzzing of a bee in Jacob’s ears, but that’s a good thing. It pricks at his skin, lighting it on fire and getting his morale going.

The team just needed one more point and they would win this set, sending them on their way to the championship game. This would be the first time in IST history that their boys’ volleyball team would make it this far, and that was all thanks to Jacob becoming captain for his senior year.

Their coach calls for a quick time out, giving Jacob a moment of reprieve before his final serve of the game. He wipes away the sweat on his forehead, shaking the front of his jersey to air it out and cool him down a little. The team’s manager passes him a water bottle. He loves the adrenaline rush that courses through his veins when he’s on the court. It’s unlike any other feeling he’s ever felt in his life.

“Alright, Bae. You’ve got this, right?” Jacob’s coach gives him a pointed look.

“Of course, Coach. There’s no way in hell that we’re losing this game tonight.” He gives him a firm nod, lips curled into a confident smile. There wasn’t a chance that Jacob Bae would go down without a fight. He was securing that championship seat whether anyone liked it or not.

The team heads back out and a referee hands Jacob the volleyball. He blows a raspberry, twirling the ball on his fingertips while waiting for the whistle. As soon as he hears it, he takes a couple steps back. A breeze cuts through his hair when he runs, executing his infamous jump serve with practiced ease. The ball flies past the players of the other team, hitting the court just in front of the line.

His teammates are yelling and throttling his body around before he even realizes that they’ve won. Some of them are riling up the crowd, others are on their knees crying tears of joy. He was anticipating this outcome, but for some reason he’s still shell shocked. Everything around him is static and white noise.

“Holy shit, Jacob. I can’t believe you did that,” Kim Mingyu, the team’s star middle blocker, slaps him on the back. He’s also drenched in sweat, patting his face with a towel.

“You and me both, to be completely honest.” Jacob laughs a bit, collecting his things so he can head to the locker room.

He’s slightly grateful that tonight’s game ended a little early, giving him enough time to get ready before the Tau Beta Zeta party. He wasn’t even that big of a party person. He only went to provide moral support for his friends who happened to all be in the fraternity. Most people would even go as far as assuming he was also in it considering how often he was spotted at that house, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. He actually thought fraternities were dumb. In his eyes, they held no purpose.

A bunch of guys living together under the guise of brotherhood when in reality they spent most of their time partying was just stupid. You could do that without the fancy titles or the expected respect from fellow students. He loved his friends, truly, but he didn’t understand the hype.

Jacob showers quickly and changes into a hoodie and some baggy jeans. He ruffles his hair in front of a mirror, grabbing his backpack and swinging it over his shoulder. As he’s preparing to leave, someone calls out to him.

“Yo, Cobie! Are you going to the TBZ party?”

He spins around to find the source, learning it belongs to Jeong Jaehyun. The setter nods, pulling his hood over his head. “Like I always do. Why?”

“I heard through the grapevine that Haeun was going with some friends. I just thought I’d warn you,” he squeezes the shoulder that isn’t hoisting his backpack. “I figured you’d want to take things chill this next week with the championship game on Friday.”

Jacob hums in response and Jaehyun takes that as his cue to be on his way. Of course this would be his luck. Just as he thinks life is getting easier for him, something has to come and throw a curveball at him. This something happened to be his ex-girlfriend, who’d done nothing but terrorize Jacob while they were together. Imagine the most toxic, vile person in the world, then dress her in Jimmy Choo sandals and a designer handbag. That was Haeun.

The only logical reason for her to attend the TBZ party was because his friends were still trying to rack up their numbers. He wouldn’t put it past them if that meant acquiring any and every student on campus. After tonight they would find out who won the stupid competition between them and the KAT sorority, hopefully putting a pin in their godforsaken rivalry once and for all. The winner determined if he was even going to the big end of semester party or not.

Jacob sighs, heading out so he can help out his friends in any way he can. Now that he’s been cursed with the knowledge that he might run into his ex, he’s half tempted to just ditch the whole thing. (He won’t, but the idea is flirting with him.) They’ve been broken up for well over a year now, but somehow she always manages to worm her way back and make him miserable. Quite frankly, he’s tired of it.

When Jacob arrives at the Tau Beta Zeta house, his friends are all over the place. Sangyeon is typing away on his phone, pacing back and forth in the living room. The action from the calm and collected fraternity president makes him kind of nervous. He escapes into the kitchen where Sunwoo and Eric are putting away all of the alcohol. Kevin and Chanhee are complaining about God knows what to each other, and he can faintly hear Hyunjae and Haknyeon upstairs. His juniors start clapping and hollering as soon as they see him enter.

“Woah woah woah, we’ve got a celebrity on our hands guys.” Eric jokes, dapping up the older male.

“Congrats, Cobie,” Sunwoo joins in, fist bumping his senior and handing him a beer bottle. “Do you think you’re gonna win next week?”

“I sure hope so,” Jacob snorts, uncapping the bottle with the opener on the fridge. “I didn’t bring us all this way for nothing.”

Nothing super eventful happens after that, just the guys setting up for the party. They’re projecting that this is the one that secures their victory for the competition. Jacob really couldn’t care less, sitting himself on the couch and scrolling through his phone as he nurses his beer. They all maneuver around him, setting up speakers here, lights there. It’s all pointless in his eyes.

When the party has finally started and the house is packed with partygoers, Jacob hasn’t budged from his spot. The only reason he has a fresh beer is because Eric grabbed one for him in passing. This was what he subjected himself to for hours on end every Friday night. His ass cemented to one of the sofas in the living room and his phone being his main source of entertainment.

It’s as you’re exiting the kitchen with your friends that you notice him. You laugh into your drink at the boredom written all over his face. His extremely handsome face. His hair falls into his eyes and slightly obstructs his vision, but that just accelerates the beating of your heart. You don’t know what it is, but there’s something about him that makes you want to learn his name and everything there is about him.

“Y/N, have you found a nice boy to give you a fun time before hell week?” Haeun asks you, running perfectly manicured fingernails through her hair. “That’s the whole point of being here, isn’t it?”

You didn’t want to tag along, honestly. You were content with staying in tonight and studying for your A&PII exam. You only agreed to get Haeun off your back, because you were well aware of how annoying she could get when she didn’t get what she wanted. She gave the KAT sorority president a run for her money sometimes.

“Uh, no. I’ll just see where the night takes me,” you shrug, keeping a poker face so she doesn’t see who you’re already ogling.

Knowing her, she would make it difficult for you. She would torture you and tease you relentlessly because that was just who she was. Haeun wasn’t satisfied unless she felt good about herself. You didn’t know why you were still friends with her. Maybe it was because she was one of the first people who sought you out after your transfer to IST. Maybe it was because you were afraid of being blacklisted by practically every other student if you dropped her. Her power was insane.

“Boring,” she drags out the vowels, rolling her eyes. “I’m gonna see if Cha Eunwoo is here yet.”

You watch as she disappears into the sardine-packed house, looking for the senior. Your other friend, Minjee, just sighs once the dictator is out of earshot— which isn’t even that far considering how loud the music is. She turns to you with a weak smile.

“Don’t let her ruin anything for you. Just go enjoy yourself before she does.”

You don’t need to be told a second time, chugging the contents of your red solo cup for some liquid courage. Your mission was simple; be ten times more fun than the party itself. That would surely catch Couch Boy’s attention. It wasn’t like the Tau Beta Zeta guys didn’t put all their effort into throwing the craziest parties at the school, but clearly this dude wasn’t for it.

Your feet carry you over to the living room, your teeth chewing on your lip nervously. You’d never hit on someone before, let alone at a party. The scariest part was the potential rejection in front of hundreds of your peers. But it was okay! You could do this. You think.

“Hi.”

The word leaves your mouth without your brain even registering it, eyes wide like you’d just done something wrong. He looks up from his phone, mirroring your expression. His tongue darts out to swipe across his bottom lip and then he’s scooting over to make room for you.

“Hi,” he says after a few seconds.

“I’m Y/n,” you extend your hand awkwardly, but he takes it, shaking it with a firm grip that has you crossing your legs. “I— uh— this is kinda weird, but um— I saw you from over there and thought you were cute.”

You swallow thickly, tucking some hair behind your ear. How did Haeun do this on the regular? He smiles at your fumbling and oh God, you think you might pass out from how attractive he is. You don’t have much alcohol in your system and you’re starting to regret how sober you are.

“I’m Jacob,” he rests an arm on the back of the couch. “Thanks for coming up to me. I would’ve missed your pretty face otherwise.”

Is he flirting with you? Holy shit, he’s flirting with you.

“Do you come to Tau Beta Zeta parties often?” You ask to continue the conversation. He nods.

“I practically live here,” Jacob laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners. “How about you, Y/N? What are you studying?”

Oh, so he was one of the members. You wouldn’t have guessed with how disinterested he seemed at his own party. It takes you a moment to realize he’s shifted the focus onto you, scanning your features for a response. You purse your lips.

“Not really. I’m more of a homebody. I’m only here to let loose before finals. I actually just transferred to IST U this semester for the exceptional Pre-Med department. I’m still sorta navigating my way around and meeting people.”

So that’s why he’s never seen you on campus. You’re completely new to the school and you’re in a completely different department than he is. Nonetheless, you’re really cute and Jacob hasn’t put himself out there since breaking up with Haeun. He’s been so concentrated on maintaining his grades and putting in the work for volleyball, he hasn’t even had the time to. But now that finals and the championship game are all next week, he supposes he can allot some just this once…

“How are you liking it here so far?” He asks you genuinely. It winds you a little. You’ve never had someone actually care about what you had to say or show interest in you. Even at your old school, no one batted an eye at you. You doubt anyone knew you transferred.

“The campus itself is beautiful. It’s a lot bigger than my previous one. And so far, everyone’s been nothing but kind to me. I wish I would’ve gone with my gut and came here straight out of high school.” You pick at a thread on your skirt.

“We all live and we all learn, that’s a part of life,” Jacob shrugs, nudging your leg with his foot. “Would you like to grab another drink with me?”

“Yeah, that would be great, actually.” You both stand from the couch.

Since sitting with him, the party has grown in size. Fellow students filled every available corner of the house, nearly standing body to body in order to fit everyone in the building. The amount of attendees should be a fire hazard, honestly. Jacob laces your fingers together so he doesn’t lose you in the mass of people blocking the path to the kitchen. There’s a game of Rage Cage going on where there’s usually a round of beer pong and it looks like this one guy is about to die with how many empty cups are in front of him.

“What are you drinking?” Jacob turns to you once you’ve reached the alcohol table. You shake your head.

“Surprise me.”

“You’re playing Russian Roulette here, Y/N,” his lips curl up into a devious smile that most people would run away from, especially when it’s on the face of a stranger. “You’re really trusting me with your life right now.”

Luckily, you’ve always been into that type of thing. Nice guys who looked like they could give you an unforgettable night. And in the short period you’ve known Jacob, he appeared to be just that. All you can do is nip at your lower lip, the fleet of a smile gracing his sight.

He passes you a cup and gestures for you to taste his concoction. It burns the course of your throat, but doesn’t remind you of straight battery acid. You give him a thumbs up of approval and he cheers, fist bumping the air. You giggle at his reaction. Perhaps stepping out of your comfort zone was the best decision you’ve made all night. He knocks his own cup against yours and takes a swig, wincing.

“I might’ve made mine just a bit stronger than usual,” his voice is hoarse and you can’t help but laugh a little harder. “I put all of my expertise into yours.”

“It’s good to know you’re a gentleman and you’re not trying to get me drunk on purpose,” you tease, sipping at the beverage gingerly. “However, that does mean you’ll need to be flashier in your attempts to woo me. I have very high standards.”

Jacob’s smile widens, his teeth peeking from behind his lips. The expression makes you lightheaded. It should be a crime to look as good as he does, without even trying either. “I don’t know… All I’m hearing is that you want me to woo you…”

He’s caught you red-handed, but it isn’t like you were doing much to conceal that fact. You’d like to think you were being very obvious with your intentions on purpose. You glance up at him from the rim of your cup, your lower back leaning on the counter. “Maybe I do… Are you opposed to that, Jacob?”

He takes a step closer to you, and then another until he has you caged between him and the kitchen counter. Really, he couldn’t give any less of a fuck about the clusters of people nearby. When Jacob Bae had a goal in mind, he made damn sure to work for it. His volleyball career could attest to that. His drink slides across the surface, spilling a little on the back of his hand. He leans down to your ear. “Not at all. But I don’t think you’ll be able to handle what happens when I succeed.”

You feel your cheeks warm, your throat drying, and it’s not because of the effects from the alcohol you’ve just consumed. You’ve known this guy, what, thirty minutes max? And he was already figuring out exactly what it took to get your gears grinding? What a quick fucking leaner. He knows he’s won, too, if the way you’ve gone cotton-mouthed is anything to go by. The ghost of a grin brushes the shell of your ear and it requires the entirety of your strength not to pounce on this stranger in the middle of this goddamn party.

“Everybody who isn’t Tau Beta Zeta, get the fuck out! Someone called the cops!”

A record scratch-like halt puts a pin in the moment, forcing Jacob to step away from you with a groan. This would be just your luck, wouldn’t it? You found a ‘nice boy to give you a fun time before hell week’ and then this stupid party gets raided. It’s annoying, actually. Aggravating, even. Your lips unconsciously form pout out of disappointment and Jacob feels a piece of himself die along with it.

“Shit, you gotta get out of here before they show up and start dragging people out,” he runs a hand through his hair with a hiss.

If it had been a minute earlier, you would’ve fallen to your knees by now. Unfortunately, that was not the case. You needed to find Haeun and Minjee. You do a quick 180° in hopes of spotting either of them.

“Yeah, I need to find my—” You interrupt yourself when you see the former of the two stomping towards you with an indistinguishable look in her eye. “—Friends…”

“Let’s go, Y/N,” her tone is snappy and she glances over at Jacob for a brief moment. You don’t have time to realize what’s happening until her petite fingers are wrapping around your wrist, hauling you out of the kitchen. A yelp escapes your lips as you turn to wave to your… whatever he is to you now.

Initially, you assumed she was just ticked off by the whole cop call thing. At least, that made sense if she’d gotten anywhere with that Cha Eunwoo guy she had been talking about all day leading up to the party. But then Minjee’s driving you back your apartment and she’s whipping around in the passenger seat to give you the nastiest glare you’ve ever been on the receiving end of.

“What the hell is your problem?” She looks two seconds away from bursting a vein in her forehead.

“Wh— huh?” You’re thoroughly confused. What the fuck did you do to her?

“Why were you talking to Jacob Bae? You do know that’s my ex, right?” Her gaze has softened, but could still very much kill you if she wanted to. The wrath of Lee Haeun was more terrifying than that of any horror movie villain to ever exist.

No.

No no no no. The world stops on its axis and it’s like you’ve been told your favorite song was written about a used tissue. You don’t hear anything else she says, feeling like you just had ear muffs placed over your head. This isn’t fair. The universe officially hated you. You were number one on the list of people who deserved the worst possible fate, your name underlined twice with red ink and a star beside it.

You really didn’t have it in you to care about what Haeun thought. If this was the reason you were finally given to stop talking to her, then so be it. What you were worried about was Jacob hating you. He clearly saw that you were friends. Why would he want to pursue anything with one of his ex’s friends? Any sane person would avoid that situation if they could.

Despite not knowing that it was Jacob specifically, you knew the details of their breakup and why things ended so messily. It made sense that she was an authoritarian even in her relationships. That was just in her nature. If she didn’t control every aspect of her life, she would lose her mind. Normally you wouldn’t have batted an eye at that, not nearly enough energy in you to deal with that level of bossiness. But it was starting to bleed into your personal life. And that was a line you weren’t so willing to let her cross.

You could only pray that this was fixable.

Finals week passes by in a breeze, and before he knows it, Jacob is on the court for the championship game. There’s a different aura to him than there usually is when it comes to his volleyball games. He feels ten times more determined. (He would never admit to anyone that it’s because he’s hoping he’ll see you at the end of semester party tonight.)

He actually really enjoyed your presence and your personality. The rate at which his heart beat around you was something he hadn’t felt in a while and it was nice. He liked those little butterflies that came with the start of something new. He liked the jitters and the giggles and everything in between. It reminded him that there was still youth, there was still excitement in his life.

Sure, it was kind of weird that you were friends with his ex-girlfriend. The same ex-girlfriend that he couldn’t stand being in the same room as for more than five minutes at a time. But from your reaction to her dragging you away, Jacob thinks that you didn’t know about him and Haeun. If you did, you wouldn’t have gone up to him in the first place. Unless you knew and just didn’t care, then he didn’t care either. It’s not like he ever plans to allow Haeun to resurface and sink her nails back into him. That’s one mistake he’ll never make again.

Before he knows it, he’s swapping back into the game. He rolls his neck and pops his fingers, getting into position to receive this next serve. Even with this fire lit underneath him, both teams are neck and neck. With every point that IST scored, the opposing team would just catch back up without breaking a sweat. If Jacob wasn’t captain and wasn’t used to being so calm and collected during matches, he’d probably start getting as pissed as Kim Mingyu looks right now.

The referee blows his whistle and the ball is over the net. Jeon Jungkook, the team’s libero, dives for it, the volleyball bouncing off the back of his hand and back up into the air. It’s currently the fourth set and IST has two under their belt. They needed to win this one lest they wanted to go into the fifth. Everyone is on edge, but won’t stop at nothing that isn’t victory. Jacob shifts to set the ball to Jaehyun, who swings his arm back and spikes it to the other side of the court.

One of their players receives it with ease, and they’re back to square one. There’s that back and forth of both teams setting and spiking, only for the other to receive and send it back over. Jacob feels like this game is never gonna end, especially with how agile their libero is and how in tune he is with their setter. But then he makes eye contact with Lee Seokmin, an opposite hitter who’s proven time and time again that he’ll go wherever Jacob needs him to, do whatever Jacob wants him to. And that’s exactly what he does.

Mingyu bumps the ball towards the net and just when they think Jacob’s going to set it, he swaps places with Seokmin. The hitter gets beneath the volleyball and pushes it off the tip of his fingers, watching as Jacob perfectly times his jump to smack it with the palm of his hand. It’s something the two had only ever practiced a handful of times, but knew it would come in handy when everything was right. The entire interaction is flawless, and the captain’s spike lands, scoring that final point that IST needed to win the set and the game.

Just like the previous game, Jacob doesn’t even register the roaring cheers from everyone around him until they’re throwing him and Seokmin up like they themselves were volleyballs. The team is going insane, hyping up the crowd and running around the court like children. A sense of pride swells in Jacob’s chest, a crinkly-eyed smile nestling on his face like the fondness of a father.

They continue the joy-train all the way into the locker room. Jacob showers and throws on some gray cargo pants, pairing them with a black half-zip jacket. Most of the team was going to the end of semester party tonight, treating it as a post-celebratory reward for their big win. It was still so surreal for the captain. All of the pressure that had been riding on him the entire season, the strive for being someone bigger than himself. He’s grateful it paid off.

Meanwhile, you were damn near ripping your hair out, nerves eating away at the edges of your stomach like you were with the skin around your nails. After a taxing week of final exams and the anxiety of wanting to see Jacob Bae again to clear any bad air, you found yourself at the TBZ end of semester party along with Haeun and Minjee. You were thankful that your life was intact, Haeun’s irritation simmering into something a lot more bearable.

Though just a smidge pissed off that you didn’t do your research, she wasn’t as mad about the whole break of girl-code incident. She got off of your back a little too easily, though, so you were still waiting for another strike. You couldn’t help but feel as if she was planning another form of action.

You’d been at this party for at least an hour, and the attendance was double that of last week’s. They weren’t kidding when they said this was the party of all parties at IST University. You were starting to think that maybe Jacob really was going to avoid you like you were the Black Plague or equivalent. Why else would he not be at one of his own parties? Wasn’t it, like, a requirement for fraternity members to make an appearance at the things they hosted?

Being friends with Haeun really screwed everything up for you. Not only did you have to sleep with one eye open, but also keep your distance from just about every male on campus out of fear that she fucked with them, too. Why did it have to be Jacob Bae? Why couldn’t it have been someone more douchey, more up her alley? He was way too sweet, way too cute for someone of her kind. He deserved someone that could hand him the world. (Not that you were insinuating that it was you, but even you knew you were a better person than Lee Haeun.)

And as if a higher being truly existed, your prayers are answered in the form of Jacob Bae walking through the front door. A gaggle of partygoers surround him and the group of guys he’s with, including some of the fraternity brothers. You faintly hear whoops and hollers over the near deafening music, everyone patting them on their backs. Most of the attention is on Jacob and his gorgeous smile, though.

“IST U’s pride and joy! National volleyball champion, Jacob-fucking-Bae,” Lee Hyunjae wolf-whistles, shaking him around like he was maraca.

Jacob laughs, looking down at the floor to shy away from all of the eyes on him. He’s glad everybody is pleased with his accomplishment, but really all he wants to do is find you. He’s still not 100% sure you’re even here, but he has high hopes that maybe you were into him as much as he was with you. Now that he’s free of both volleyball and schoolwork for a while, he can take his time getting to know you better.

You psych yourself up to go over to him once his audience has parted and gone back to whatever it was they were doing prior to his arrival. A grimace consumes your features as you knock back the cup of jungle juice in your hand, blowing a raspberry. Minjee gives you a smile of encouragement, like she knows exactly what you’re about to do.

However, someone beats you to it. You watch with bated breath as Haeun flips her hair over her shoulder, her heels clicking on the wooden floor all the way up to Jacob. The sight of another girl talking to the guy you’re interested in has never made you as ill as it does right now, her glossy lips pouted and her hands clasped behind her back.

“Heard about the big win, Jakey,” she smiles almost evilly, calling him by a nickname that he hasn’t been called in months. “Wanna claim your prize?”

Jacob knows what she’s doing. It’s obvious. Haeun saw the two of you together last week and now she’s pretending that she gives a shit just so she can feel like she’s the one in control. He’s seen this scene too many times to fall for it. He pokes his cheek with his tongue, hands shoving into the front pocket of his jacket.

“Don’t you have someone else that you can bother, tonight? I’m spoken for.” He shrugs, stepping around her. Okay, so perhaps you’d only had one conversation together. That was enough for him. He doesn’t have to search far or wide for you, a grin replacing his deadpan once he sees your face. “Hi.”

“H-Hi,” your voice comes out unsteady. “I— uh— wh— well, I kinda thought you were avoiding me.”

His eyebrows quirks up. “Why would I do that?”

“Because I’m friends with your tyrant of an ex-girlfriend and I’m a horrible person for still wanting you,” you begin to ramble, playing with a strand of your hair. “And then you weren’t here.”

Jacob laughs, pushing your hand down and tucking the same piece behind your ear. “I don’t really care that you’re friends with Haeun. Honestly, no one’s ever *really friends with her. It’s hard to stand a person who’s that insufferable. And I’m on the volleyball team. Tonight was the championship game, which is why I was late.”

“So you don’t hate me and want me to die?”

“I could never.” He shakes his head, taking one of your hands into his.

“If that’s the case, then can you show me how to properly enjoy a frat party?” You trace patterns on his palm.

“I’ll be so real with you, Y/N, even *I don’t know how to do that,” he snorts. “I’m not a Tau Beta Zeta member, so I guess that explains it.”

“Woah what?” You gape at him. “This entire time I thought you were…”

“Nah, I’m just friends with all of the guys here. I might as well be, but I’m not. Frats are stupid to me,” Jacob leads you out of the living room and into the kitchen to get himself a drink. “Though, I don’t think they’re that bad anymore.”

As he’s reaching for an empty cup, a thought crosses your mind. It’s bold, but you don’t have the willpower to force it away. “You know, you didn’t get to show me what would happen if you succeeded in sweeping me off of my feet.”

He pauses what he’s doing, turning to glance at you over his shoulder with dark eyes. Are you saying what he thinks you’re saying?

“And something’s telling me you were extremely successful.”

*Fuck the drink, Jacob thinks to himself, dropping the cup in favor of whisking you away. He pulls you into the nearest empty room, which happens to be the downstairs bathroom. From one second to the next, you’re pinned to the door, both of your wrists firm in his grip. He’s so close that his nose nudges yours, lips only a hair’s breadth from your own.

“Should’ve known you were dangerous from the get go,” he breathes, the distance between you driving you crazy. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”

A gasp escapes you, your eyelids fluttering shut. This was pure insanity. Before you can complain about the lack of contact, Jacob’s mouth is on yours, lips moving against yours so skillfully and so roughly. He takes your wrists into one hand, holding them above your head while the other slips beneath your top. His fingertips burn into your skin and you don’t hold back the whine that sneaks out from your chest.

You pull back for air, sighing when his kiss travels down your neck and focuses on your collarbone. It’s not enough, you need to feel him everywhere. Your pulse is racing and you’re sure he can feel it when he leaves a trail of nibbles and kisses along your jawline. They travel south, paving their path on what’s visible of your jugular and sternum.

There’s a haste of fingers roaming and lips exploring. This was uncharted territory for, seeing as you hadn’t been in a situation like this since moving schools. If there was anyone you wanted to get down and dirty with in the bathroom of a frat party, it was Jacob Bae. His free hand wanders under your skirt, a knuckle running along your clothed, but damp, slit. You both hiss.

“Already so wet for me?” He asks you smugly, the curve of his smile carved into the space where your ear meets your neck. You don’t have the patience to power through any teasing.

“Need you so bad, Jacob,” you don’t like the pitchiness of your voice, or how you’re pretty much begging right now. “Wanna skip the foreplay.”

Jacob grins almost wickedly, kissing the tip of your nose. “So ready and so eager for me. Your wish is my command, sweetheart.”

He doesn’t waste any time getting you out of your clothes, starting with your top and then shoving your skirt past your thighs. You kick it off and move to help him. His jacket comes off in one fluid motion, giving you the perfect display of his muscular back and toned abdomen. All of years of volleyball came to fruition in the form of his godlike sculpted body.

You drag a nail through the valley of his abs, unbuttoning his cargoes and palming him through his underwear. He curses under his breath, forehead falling to your shoulder. You may very well be the death of him, he decides. When he’s finally had enough, he swats your hand away, removing the briefs so he can give you what you so graciously asked for. He pumps his length a couple times before guiding the tip to your entrance.

Jacob hooks one of your legs around his waist, pushing your panties to the side so he can slip into you carefully. You don’t even stop the moan that breaches your vocal cords, back arching off of the door and your chest pushing into his. The stretch burns slightly, but not nearly enough to interrupt the pleasure coursing throughout your body. There’s a fire in the pit of your stomach that he fans the flames of the deeper he sinks into you, lips imprinted into the skin of your neck.

His fingers burn the skin of your thigh where he holds it up, slowly pressing his cock into cunt and sliding out as soon as he bottoms out. You’re dizzy, so dizzy that stars have begun to form behind your eyelids and he’s only just started. He rocks into you at a meticulous pace, the blunt nails of his other hand digging into your hip to keep himself composed.

He wants to take his time with you first. He wants you to feel every ridge and vein of his cock as your walls squeeze him in. He wants the feeling of the two of you connected to be engraved into your brain, a memory that nothing could erase even if it tried. Your head knocks against the door when you crane it to give him more access to the column of your throat, whining when he sucks marks into the surface.

“F-Fuck, Jacob,” you whimper. “Feel— god— feel so, so stuffed.”

You practically hiccup your words, overstimulated with everything that’s going on at once. It’s too much. The way he nips at your skin. The way he groans every time you clench around him. The way he’s *buried into you like you were the only source of warmth he’ll ever get. It’s too much, but it feels fucking fantastic.

“Yeah, baby? Am I fucking you good? Giving it to you like no one else can?” He exerts himself, his lips slipping on the thin sheen of sweat coating your bodies. All you can do is moan again, bucking your hips into his to minimize the gap between you as much as physically possible.

His cock is just the right balance of girth and length, filling you up and hitting the spots you need him to. Your sanity falls through the cracks with every click of his hips into yours. He *is fucking you good. He *is giving it to you like no one else can. It didn’t even take him long to figure out what you liked, using that knowledge to his advantage so he could ravage you.

You’re too lost in the pleasure to notice the coil in your stomach curling to the point of snapping. With each ram of his dick in your pussy, he winds you up more and more until it breaks in half. You see nothing but white for a few seconds, spots of various colors bleeding into it. A sound so far away from you bursts out from its home in the back of your throat. Your orgasm coaxes out his, painting your walls with milky ropes and a moan of his own.

The two of you pant breathlessly, lips brushing as you attempt to calm down. Jacob pinches your side, kissing you once before pulling out and letting go of your hip. “Do you have the energy to give me one more? I don’t think I’m finished with you just yet.”

You let out a guttural groan, nodding and colliding your mouths in another desperate kiss. Your fingers run through the strands of his hair, tugging at the nape of his neck as he transfers you to sink. He spins you around, bending you over the counter and pecking your shoulder as he eases his cock back into the velvet of your pussy.

You’re both still sensitive, sighing at the feeling of a second intrusion. He grips your hip and presses down on your lower back just as he speeds up the pacing of his thrusts. Instinctively, you hike up a knee onto the counter, wanting him even deeper and even harder than previously. Heat pools in that same spot at the base of your abdomen, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“Look in the mirror, sweetheart,” he grunts, throwing his head back and tightening his grasp on your waist. “Want you to watch me fuck you stupid.”

You wail, eyes heavy lidded as you witness Jacob plowing into you from behind. It hurts, the fact that you can’t even convey into sounds how amazing it feels. They’re all trapped in your chest and throat, begging to be set free. You wish they could bounce off of the walls, reverberating in your ears. Your cheeks are wet from the tears that have spilled over. You look like a mess with your makeup smeared and your face puffy. Anyone who saw you after this would know exactly what went down in this bathroom.

Jacob doesn’t slow his assault, instead hovering over and trapping you beneath his broad frame. He drills into you deeper, harder, faster— and oh god you don’t want him to stop. You think he’s making good on his word, fucking you so insanely stupid that not a single thought occupies your mind. All there is, is Jacob Bae and the deliciousness of his cock wedging itself further into your cunt like he wants to live there.

“You’re taking me so well, baby. So so well,” he coos, your back curving into his chest.

Your elbows might give out from supporting your weight and now Jacob’s too, especially with how empty your head is. You don’t really have the consciousness to keep yourself up. It’s at the point where the mirror has started to fog, a blurry image of him abusing your pussy in your line of sight.

He knows you’re on the brink of an orgasm, your walls spasming slightly in warning. He pulls out enough to flip you onto your back, pushing in and resuming where he left off. His thumb sneaks down to your clit, rubbing in precise circles with precise pressure. Despite there being no mirror covered in steam in the shape of your bodies in front of you, your vision is still hazy. You can barely see the expressions Jacob makes, his brows knitting together and lower lip between his teeth.

You pull him down to connect your mouths, whining into him as he continues to fuck into you like there wasn’t a whole party still going on on the side of the door. Your knees are folded to your chest, allowing his cock to kiss all the way inside of you. “I’m— fuck— so close, Cobie.”

“C’mon, baby, you can cum for me,” he goads, applying more pressure to the shape he’s drawing on your clit.

One particularly timed thrust and the bumping of his pelvic bone on the sensitive bundle of nerves tips you off of your peak. Your climax washes over you, tidal waves of pleasure cresting at full force. You moan loudly, the rippling of your walls triggering Jacob’s own release.

He pulls out gently, for the final time. His chest rises and falls rapidly, in sync with yours. You’re both exhausted, spent from going at it like jackrabbits— as if you’d never get the chance to do it again. You meet eyes and then burst into laughter, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks.

“That was… Wow…” You breathe, moving some of his hair from obstructing his eyesight.

“I always follow through with my promises, you know,” he wraps his arms around your waist. “So, what do I get now that I’ve wooed you?”

You press the hints of a kiss to his lips. “An exclusive all-access pass to me, my phone number, and the rights to ask me out on a date whenever you please.”

Jacob smiles that crinkle eye smile of his, knowing full well that he plans on cashing all three of those right now. He may have not been the biggest fan of fraternities or their parties, but he sure as hell loved them at this moment in time.

He thinks he was a winner in more ways than one that night.

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

#deoboyznet #the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz smut #the boyz jacob #tbz jacob #jacob bae x reader #jacob bae smut #jacob x reader #jacob smut #juyeonszn #blackoutorbackout🍻

[ericbttle]

do you think bitty and coach watched a little of friday night lights together? it came out right around bitty's stint in peewee football when things didn't go so well and now coach is struggling to connect with his kid again about something he loves. suzanne's watching it one night when coach comes home right while the team's playing a game and gets invested (in a way he won't admit). and suzanne's like oh omg problem solved dicky and coach can watch the football show together. but bitty's still hesitant to get into the topic of football around his dad but then tim riggins appears onscreen and he quietly seats himself back on the couch.

#omgcp #eric bittle #coach bittle #suzanne bittle #11 yr old bitty sitting down to watch tim riggins 'i hope this doesn't awaken anything in me'

[parvuls]

winter break 2014-2015 - the recap (part 1)

#august 22 reread #august 22 tweets #these are all GOLD #I love every and any coach-bitty interaction because the fact that they have a normal father-son rapport #alongside like... not having a normal rapport AT ALL lol #is such a realistic detail? having a difficult relationship with your parents doesn't mean there aren't nice moments #and I would very much like to hear about bitty's high school crush btw. I bet he's an athlete

[montrealmadison]

in your palace warm, mighty king

okay i’ve recently found myself on angel tree tiktok. if you’re unfamiliar with the concept, basically, some stores will put out a tree around the holidays with gift tags for anonymous local kids, and people coming in to do their own shopping can take a tag off the tree and buy kids gifts off their wishlists for the store to pass off to them. (the linked video shows it in action!)

anyway this got me thinking about jack zimmermann at the beginning of his career. he has been fabulously wealthy and privileged for his whole life, but he’s only recently started earning a massive salary of his own and has no real idea of what to spend it on. he’s comfortable. he has a car and a nice apartment and an engagement ring hidden somewhere in said apartment. he knows he should probably donate to a worthwhile cause, but he hasn’t figured out what.

one day, though, bitty’s visiting for the weekend and comes to the store with him, and right there in the entryway, he just… stops. jack doesn’t notice and consequently almost runs him over with the cart.

“you alright? careful, eh?”

bitty does not respond, because he’s looking at the tree.

“bud?”

jack follows his gaze. it really doesn’t look like much. it’s fake, unlit, and has seen better days if the way it’s a little flattened on one side is anything to go by. there is an equally squashed-looking stuffed snowman sat on the floor next to it. it’s the kind of thing your eyes slide over easily, hurrying from one place to another. blink and you’ll miss it.

bitty isn’t blinking.

“lord, i haven’t seen one of these in years,” he says. his voice is soft. he still isn’t looking at jack. “do you know what it is?”

jack doesn’t, so bitty explains. and when they inch closer, jack sees that all the ornaments he thought were plain paper before are actually printed with ages, shoe sizes, requests for warm coats and toys and cute jeans and deodorant. here and there is a specific wish—a bluetooth speaker. a particular board game. one kid, age eight, is fervently hoping for a bike.

and—okay. here’s the thing. they’ve been together for more than a year, and bitty is pretty willing to go along with jack’s desire to spoil him. but although he’s so open and accepting when jack wants to kiss him, or cook dinner for a change, or lay him out on their bed and make him feel good—he will always, always get uncomfortable where significant amounts of money are involved. it was the subject of the one and only fight that sent them to bed still heated. the fundamental difference between their upbringings is the hardest for them to grasp: jack has never known a life without plenty. and bitty—

“i think my parents put me on one,” bitty says. “the year we moved back to madison, after—”

the closet looms between them, black and yawning.

“well. you know. coach had to leave a good job in lawrenceville. took us a while to get back on our feet, i think. and that year, they couldn’t—i mean, i heard them talking at night about how we might not be able to make christmas work, when they thought i couldn’t hear them. but i still wrote my letter to santa, and there were a couple presents when i woke up christmas morning, so.” he scuffs one shoe on the industrial carpet. “maybe an angel sent ‘em.”

the words make something sizzle down jack’s spine and settle low in his gut. he steps forward, reaches out, turns over the nearest tag.

boy, age 11. shoe size: 8. wishlist: sneakers, earbuds, basketball, patriots merch, chapter books. loves fantasy and mythology.

once upon a time, jack spent three months in a rehab center designed specifically for the privacy needs of celebrity clients. his parents footed the bill, had the windows on all their cars tinted for him to hide behind when he got out. at the same time, thousands of miles away, bitty sat at the top of the stairs in his parents’ house and listened to them wonder if they could afford to keep the magic of christmas alive another year.

people are stepping around them to get out of the cold, now, their eyes skipping right over the tree and the boys in front of it. once upon a time, strangers on the street picked apart jack’s overdose like a piece of tabloid gossip. strangers on the street made sure a thirteen-year-old kid had something to unwrap with his family on christmas morning.

“bits?”

bitty sniffles, swipes at one eye with the sleeve of his sweater. “yeah?”

jack lifts the tag gently off its branch, catches bitty’s gaze. bitty’s intake of breath is so sharp it’s audible over the music playing overhead. do you see what i see?

“what do you think? wanna go get us another cart?”

#and then they buy those kids presents like it’s NOBODY’S BUSINESS #sorry this really got away from me but like… come on #my teeth are rotting out of my head jack zimmermann you’re a dingdong a gentleman and a scholar #jack zimmermann #eric bittle #omgcp #omgcheckplease #my writing

[j4ystar]

90s LOVE — park jay

➞ bf!jay x f!reader

➞ hockey!au, inspired by the 90s love by nct u mv !!!

➞ synopsis : jay plays against your ex's hockey team

➞ fluff????

➞ word count : 1.6k

➞ tw : jay kicking ass semi-violent fight moment, swearing, just an itty bitty mention of blood

ᓚᘏᗢ aj — LOLLL took me so long to acc publish anything on here. if she sucks lets just pretend she doesn’t. smth short for tonight bc this is all i’ve been thinking of recently. enforcer refers to a player that deters and respond to violent play by the opposing team by starting fights w them. ALSO HAHAH I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT HOCKEY.

jay’s vision blurs momentarily as he gets shoved into the side panels of the rink. he regains his balance quickly though, and he brushes off the aching pain in his shoulders. he looks up hoping to get a glimpse of the jersey number that had just body checked him. he stomps on the ice, breezing past his teammates and the opposing team alike. he scans the ice for the puck and finds an open spot, and he watches his team fall back into a defensive position when they fail to shoot the puck into the opposing team's net.

that stupid number 10 was getting on jay’s nerve. he wore his jersey proudly as he strutted the ice with such toxicity. he was a bad player. he had been playing dirty, and the refs weren’t calling any of it. they turned a blind eye to it. he was known as one of the enforcers for the opposing team. now, jay was in no way the enforcer of his team; that was left for his other teammates. jay was the center of his team. jay was warned about number 10. not by his teammates nor his coach, but by his girlfriend.

"jay whatever he says or does during the game. just ignore him."

jay wanted to ignore him so bad. jay could tolerate the rough play on the ice; the shoving was all part of the game, and that game, jay could play. but the comments were much worse to tolerate. not when they included you. number 10 was your ex, jang jiwook. the stories you had a hard time opening up to jay about made jay hate his guts, despite not knowing the guy at all. upon hearing about the things he had done to you, jay just had to know what he looked like to at least keep an eye out for you when in public. throughout the entirety of the first half of the game, jiwook had been throwing comments left and right to jay about you, his beloved girlfriend. the misogynistic name-calling was enough to get steam blowing out of jay’s ears as if he were an animated character. while jay was good at keeping his temper in check, he couldn’t keep ignoring what jiwook was saying about you. jay wanted to listen to you so bad. he didn’t want to upset you first and foremost.

jiwook skates past jay again, briskly brushing past his shoulder. jay manages to skate into an open spot where he steals the puck away from the current holder and is able to turn the game around from there. upon rounding to the blue line nearest to the opposing team's net. jay looks to his right, finding jiwook coming in with such speed that he is sure he is about to come in and bulldoze jay. and so he passes the puck to another teammate, hoping they will be able to finish the play and score for their team. his teammate is able to make the score, which leads to a chorus of cheers from their school crowd.

jiwook skates up past jay with a smirk playing on his lips. jay’s irritation begins to grow.

"i heard you were with yn? have fun with my leftovers." and with that, he skates away. jay can hear him chuckling under his breath. jay breathes out for a moment. the cold arena makes his hot breath come out as a white fog. eyes averted to the clock and then back to the game. jay’s eyes watch carefully as his teammates skate with such vigour; he can hear the calls from left and right, yet as sunghoon calls out for jay to pass to, before he can even receive the puck in the bill of his stick, a body comes smashing into his side, sending jay toppling over.

the audience falls into a frenzy, some cheering, some complaining. jay’s teammates turn their heads in concern for his condition. jay feels jiwook’s heavy weight lift off him, and jiwooks teammates are hitting their sticks against the boards of the rink. despite the heavy hit to his head, jay can still see straight, and all he wants to go for is the big blue jersey with the numbers 10 stamped in white letters plastered on the back.

sunghoon approaches jay; he asks him if he’s okay. but his words just sounded slurred to jay, who begins catching up to jiwook. sunghoon looks towards the student section of the audience in search of you. fully knowing what’s about to happen next.

jay can hear the shouts of his teammates in the players box, and he is sure his coach is mixed in there yelling about not following the play. but he simply shakes his white gloves off and rips his helmet off his head, proceeding to toss it to the side. his right arm comes to tap jiwooks shoulder, who spins around on his skates only to be met with jay’s cold fist to his face. the crowd's roars intensify after the first hit.

the first hit is enough to get the helmet twisted partially off jiwook’s head. but the second left hook knocks the helmet clean off. leaving a defenceless jiwook to jay’s assault. jiwooks arms come to either side of jay’s bulky arms, and he quickly rips his gloves off in an attempt to retaliate for the violence. jay is full of rage; he is already burning up under all the equipment layered on his body.

"don’t fucking talk about yn like that," jay tells him. hair disheveled. jiwook struggles against jay who throws the last punch before the refs tear the two boys apart. jay comes back to his senses upon being scolded by the referee as he gets ushered to the penalty box. jiwook is skating with crimson blood slowly dripping from his nose, it drips onto his chin and onto the neck cut of his jersey.

jay refuses to look at jiwook from the penalty box, but when he cranes his neck to look at the spot where you reside among the other watchers in the arena, he fails to find you. but he knows you are probably upset at him for acting out. despite your warnings for jay, he never promised you that he wouldn’t hurt jang jiwook.

after five minutes in the box, he returns to the players box, where his teammates cheer him on and praise him for being able to square up to an enforcer despite being a center. fighting wasn’t jay’s job, at least not on the ice. but fighting for you? it was his job, and he takes his job very seriously. his teammates send him to the locker room, and jay wholeheartedly expects his coach to be in the locker room, where he would get scolded and lectured for not waiting on an enforcer on his team to take the damage for him. that wasn’t what entirely plagued his mind though.

upon reaching the changing rooms, he pushes them open and expects to face his rugged and scary coach. but as he prepares to feel his coach’s wrath rain down on him, he finds you instead. your purse dangling by your side while you stand with your arms crossed. you wear jay’s jersey with pride, regardless of his new reputation on the ice and the several stares people gave you when you began to make your way to the change rooms to talk to jay.

"look, i’m sorry—"

"you fucked him up good, you know." you told him, and jay lets out a breath of relief. you weren’t that mad. at least if you were, it wasn’t really showing. "he was saying shit about you. what did you expect me to do?" jay asks you, crossing his arms over his chest to mimic you.

"didn’t i tell you to ignore him?"

"how ‘bout you try ignoring my ex when she calls me her leftovers?" jay argues, huffing out in annoyance. jay sits on one of the benches, exhausted and with his head still spinning. you stop your movements. "he called me his leftovers?" your expression morphs to that of amusement. "well now i’m glad that you kicked his ass." you say. maneuvering past the other benches and duffle bags scattered over the floor. you take jay’s head into your arms and stand between his legs. he lays his head on your chest automatically. jay’s arms come around your torso, hugging you closer to him. a hand rests on one of his shoulders while the other tangles in jay’s hair.

"and to be clear, if your ex said anything bad about you, i would fight her too." you laugh softly. you can hear jay’s muffled chuckles. "i think i've got to go before your coach actually comes and scolds you." you tell him softly. he lets out a whine, his arms circling around you tighter, refusing to let you go.

"you still have a game to play, jay." you tell him sweetly, hands coming to his shoulders. he parts from you. looking up at you with such a yearning gaze. his eyes are soft. contrasting the way his eyes sharpened when he looked at jiwook with such fervour during the game. you bend down to press a kiss onto the corner of jay’s lip. when you pull away, jay follows your lips. his eyes fluttered closed and not realizing what he was doing. a small smirk appears on his lips as he looks away from you and refocuses his gaze onto a different corner of the room out of a sudden burst of timidness. jay would do anything for you, even if that meant getting benched for the rest of the season because your loser dickhead ex boyfriend is salty you found a better man.

"park, you’re supposed to be attacking the net, not the opposing players." you and jay jump at the voice of jay’s coach booming through the locker room.

THE END WAHOOOOOOO

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #jay x reader #jay park x reader #enha jongseong #jongseong fluff #jongseong imagines #jongseong scenarios #park jongseong #jongseong x reader #jay park fluff #park jongseong blurbs #jay park fan fiction #jay park blurbs #jay park scenarios #jay park imagines #heeseung x reader #jake x reader #jaehyun x reader #sunoo x reader #sunghoon x reader #jungwon x reader #niki x reader #engene #j4ystar #its 2am

[tarotwithlove]

PAC 🩰ೕ what career would best suit you?

reminder that this is a general reading and messages found here may not apply to everyone. take what resonates, leave what doesn't, and don't force anything if it does not fit.

BOOK A READING WITH ME · LINKTREE · SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC · TIPS ♡ tips and feedback are highly appreciated!

GROUP ONE

cards · queen of pentacles, high priestess, judgement (reversed), king of pentacles (reversed), knight of wands, eight of swords. 

channelled songs · all i got by baekhyun. itty bitty piggy by nicki minaj. flicker by enhypen. 

hey there group one ♡ the career that would best suit you is one where you are reliant on yourself more than on anyone else. your financial and professional success is best in your hands, as you are the only person you should trust with the financial and professional success you have in mind. thus, regardless of specific avenues, self-employment and entrepreneurial careers would best suit you.  

you may have already spent some time gaining business experience, and now it’s time to use that experience and the connections you have built in the workplace for your own good. 

some of you may have a business or marketing degree. if not this is your sign to study business and/or marketing so that you have the knowledge needed to progress as far forward as possible. your degree will be the foot in the door, giving you access to a workplace and connections before you are ready to branch out on your own. 

working for yourself is scary. it is a big leap of faith to take. but if you have the desire in your heart to do so, do not let your doubts or the doubts of other people stop you. you may stumble and you may have to start over time and again and you may wonder if you have chosen the wrong path, but know that you have not. know that you will rise again and again and you will succeed. don’t let failure control you. the more you push yourself, the more you will see the success that you dream of. 

GROUP TWO

cards · page of wands, four of pentacles, eight of swords, nine of wands, justice (reversed), six of cups (reversed). 

channelled songs · circles by mariah carey. du du du by tan. regular - korean version by nct 127. 

hey there group two ♡ there are two distinct types of careers that would best suit you, though they are similar in nature. the career that would best suit you is one where you are helping other people plan for the future. you are personable and easy to get along with, which, when backed by knowledge and experience, makes people feel at ease. you make the people who come to you feel as if things will go smoothly just because they are in your hands. 

for some of you, this will look like going into accounting, investment coaching, or insurance. something financial. this career should be one where you help other people build up their savings. for some, you should choose a career where you are specifically helping people plan for retirement. where the latter is concerned, this could also look like working in a retirement home and eventually becoming the head of your own retirement home or retirement village. 

for others in the group, the way you help people plan for the future is as either a teacher or someone in the education sector or as a travel agent or someone in the travel and hospitality industry. with the latter, you can help people plan where to go and when, what places would best suit their interests, and how to best experience a place they are visiting - just as some examples. two careers that specifically come to mind are that of a concierge or a travel writer! 

GROUP THREE

cards · seven of pentacles, ten of pentacles (reversed), the devil, four of cups, four of wands (reversed), page of wands. 

channelled songs · wu ji - xiao zhan solo version by xiao zhan. my tragedy by taeyeon. cement by nicole dollanganger. 

hey there group three ♡ the career that would best suit you is one where you are in the public eye - either as an actor, musician, model, influencer, or the face of a brand. this will not be for everyone, of course, as this career will take a lot out of you emotionally and physically. with you at times feeling as if you sold your soul and your chances of a normal life for the sake of fame. 

this career is one that is incredibly focused on appearances and making sure things appear a certain, well-polished way. you will constantly have to work hard to ensure your body looks a particular way and that you come across as successful as everyone expects you to be - wearing designer clothes, driving luxury cars, always having your hair and makeup done to the tee.

in this career, you are the product as much as you are a person, and so you have to make sure that you are faithful to your brand at all times. while some may be crushed under this pressure - especially as you will be putting in a lot of work for very little money or satisfaction, at least in the beginning - you will likely only rise. 

alternatively, for some, this career could also be as a doctor. again, a doctor who adapts to the reality tv and social media age and gains a level of fame, like dr miami or dr pimple popper, for example. or as a writer who gives up writing what they want to write in order to write what will get them the most fame or success. 

in either case, your career and professional success takes precedent. which may mean you have to sacrifice love and time with family. 

GROUP FOUR

cards · the lovers, seven of pentacles, queen of pentacles, eight of cups, death (reversed), four of pentacles. 

channelled songs · sugarcoated love by rimon. when he’s done by tei shi. remember forever by red velvet. 

hey there group four ♡ there are two distinct career paths for this group. for some of you, the career that would best suit you is one where marriage and relationships is the main focus. of course, this is quite broad and varies from person to person, but you are someone who is best suited to help others reach their full potential where love is concerned. you may become a marriage counsellor, a couples’ therapist, or a lingerie/sex toy designer or salesperson. 

for others of you, this could be self love. you hold a mirror up to people and help them see the beauty in themselves - in the way that a self-help guru, personal trainer, or fashion designer might. you uplift people and make them feel as if life is a little more beautiful today than it was yesterday.

right now, i’m thinking of takashi miike saying that he likes to give even minor characters some extended scenes so that all actors get at least some time to shine. so that those actors, even though they may not be big movie stars, can feel accomplished and proud of the work they’ve done. 

in whichever case, it is your passion for others to see their own light and star power that propels you forward. whether you are the director who makes sure every actor gets important screentime or the lingerie salesperson who makes sure everyone walks out of your store with lingerie they feel confident in. whatever career path you choose, as long as you keep this mindset, you will not fail. 

#** #tarot #pac #pick a card #pick a pile #pick a picture #pick a photo #pick an image #tarotonline #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #free tarot reading #tarot readings #tarot reading #channelled message #channeled message #spiritualism #spirituality #career reading

[elisela]

‘this is my husband/boyfriend/partner etc.’ + NurseyDex

that's mine nurseydex, alternating pov

.

Nursey goes flying. Headfirst into the goal, arms flailing, Will thinks he hears a yelp sort of flying. He only resists the urge to roll his eyes because Bitty’s looking right at him and he doesn’t want a lecture. 

Still—when one of the assholes on the other team barks out a laugh and says, “Who was that, Bambi?”, Will can’t help but sigh.

“That’s my teammate, asshole,” he says, and cuts over to check him against the boards. 

—

Derek misses the days that the frogs were wide-eyed and respectful in the Haus. These kids—he’s going to need some sense knocked into them soon. They’re loud, rowdy, and far too interested in integrating into the group by joining in on the teasing, which is a right they have not yet earned.

Like now, when they’re giggling to themselves and looking at him.

“So—” one of them starts, smirking, and never finishes.

“So,” Derek repeats, jerking his thumb at Dex, “that’s my roommate.”

The laughter grates on his nerves, but not as much as pretending he doesn’t care about sharing a room with Dex.

—

Nursey is … singing? Will thinks that’s what he’s trying to do at least, and he’s heard him sing almost every day in the shower so the warbling coming out of his mouth is surprising. He’s not saying Nursey is good by any means, but he can sound decent with the right song and this … this is not the right song.

He doubts the fact that all the words being slurred thanks to being absolutely trashed is helping.

Will stays at the bar until the song is done, resolutely facing away from the somewhat dimly-lit karaoke stage so he doesn’t get dragged into participating. Luckily—or not, considering Ransom and Holster seem to have disappeared so the drunken idiot is now his responsibility—Nursey doesn’t say anything when he comes crashing up to the bar except, “Tequila shots?”

Will can barely understand him, but the look on his face—the one that appears whenever Nursey thinks he’s had a particularly good idea—speaks volumes. “Water,” he says firmly, sliding a waiting pint glass over. 

He really doesn’t understand whatever Nursey mumbles then, but he has more pressing problems, because his lap—previously empty of everything except his coat—is now occupied. “Jesus,” he mutters, trying to wiggle away. “Dude—Nursey—”

“S’comfy,” Nursey says, and Will tries once more to get him to move to his own seat with no avail.

The bartender, when she returns, gives Will a raised eyebrow. “He bothering you? I can get him out.”

Will sighs. “He’s a friend,” he says, and adds, “so he pretty much bothers me all the time.”

“Ya love me, pretty boy,” Nursey says. He starts to laugh—at what, Will has no clue—but it makes him wiggle in a way that Will isn’t sure he’s entirely comfortable with, and Nursey goes sliding to his own seat after another shove.

“Shut up and drink your water,” Will says, and motions to close their tab.

—

“That’s Jack,” Derek says, nudging his grandmother and pointing at the television, where Jack is leaning on the boards and chatting with the coach. “He’s on the Falconers.”

“I’m rooting for them,” she says, and tuts when Derek makes an aborted noise. “Hush, you don’t get to choose who I like. Is he a defender?”

Derek’s been playing hockey most of his life and every time he watches a game with his grandma it’s like she’s never heard of the sport before. “No, he’s not a defenseman,” he says. God help him, he’s never going to get through this game alive. 

The shot switches to a close-up and she hums. “Handsome.”

Derek shrugs. Jack’s fine, he supposes. A bit too bland for him, nothing that really stands out, not like—”And that’s Dex—Will—over there, in the white. Will—he’s my—” he swallows a bit too hard.

“If you think I haven’t figured out you like men and women, Derek, we’re going to need to have a conversation regarding your assumptions about my intelligence.”

He wonders if God would actually strike him down if he prayed hard enough. “He’s my boyfriend, Gram,” he says, staring resolutely at the television.

She hums again. “That Jack is more handsome though, don’t you think?”

It’s going to be a long game.

—

Will’s trying to hide. Table at the back, hat still on and pulled down low, black hoodie and black jeans. Anything to make himself blend into the background, because he doesn’t want to be caught dead here.

He also doesn’t want to be involved in any conversations, not that the girls at the table next to him have picked up on that. He’d made two fatal errors: being cordial when one of them had said hello, and admitting he’s never been to an open-mic poetry night.

They haven’t stopped talking to him since. 

“Okay, this guy—I’m not sure he’s your type, you know? Not that you aren’t like, super intelligent—I mean you’re here, right, so obviously—but he has a lot of heavy themes in his work if you really dig in and you really need to hear them a few times to peel back the layers. I’m hoping he reads the tree above the grave again, it’s—”

She cuts off, finally, when a cough sounds from the front and Derek begins to speak. There’s utter silence while he recites words that Will’s heard a hundred times over in various iterations, tweaked and stressed and polished until he could probably say them in his sleep, then an excited outburst of conversation among applaus when it’s over.

“Amazing, right?” she says, and keeps talking while Will nods. “Have you heard of him before?”

Will looks at her. “He’s the one I came for,” he answers honestly, grinning for the first time all night when he sees Derek making his way over. “He’s my husband.”

#'this is the only fic i'll write' i said #ha #what an idiot i am #nurseydex #missanniewhimsy #eli writes #omgcp

[cricketnationrise]

For the ficlet fest (congrats on 500!):

7:52 pm

the weight room

Jack Zimmermann

Rating: M

(Doggernaut/rabbitrunnah)

oooooh this was really fun to write, thanks for the prompt! i hope you enjoy senior year jack thirsting over bitty as much as i do <3

want your own ficlet? my followers can submit their own prompts using these guidelines through Jan 31, 2024.

🏒🏒🏒🏒

7:52pm, weight room

Jack tries to catch his breath before his last set of leg presses. 

There’s something immensely satisfying about weight-lifting days. It’s straightforward; more weight, more reps, diversifying exercises—it all works together to translate to better performance on the ice: more power, more breakaway sprints, more goals. A simple A plus B equals C. Jack’s favorite kind of math.

Once, not that long ago, weight training days would have been solely about maintaining the perfect form, strict adherence to his own ridiculous goals, pushing his body to keep going, to be better, to go right up to the limit of what was possible—and then past it, regardless of all the warnings his coaches, his parents, his teammates, even his own mind were giving him.

But now Jack’s in a better place, he’s got more support, so he can just lose himself in the repetitive motion, the sensation of sweat down his back, the clean exertion of pushing his body in a healthy way.

Or, he could, if he wasn’t so distracted.

It isn’t Jack’s fault that the leg press machine faces the mirrors. It isn’t Jack’s fault that there’s a clear view of the hip adductor machine in said mirrors. And it certainly isn’t Jack’s fault that Bittle is ahead of him in the circuit, on said hip adductor machine, in said mirrors.

…But it might be Jack’s fault that he can’t stop watching.

Despite his size, Bittle’s always been strong. That much had been obvious from the way he could skate suicides for an hour, the way he could hurl his body so high into the air and spin, the way he could whip a meringue by hand without pausing, or switching hands. He’d been surprisingly dense when Jack had pushed him into the boards during checking practice last year, Jack’s attention caught by how Bittle’s muscles were highlighted as much as his haircut in the sunlight when he’d moved into the Haus this summer.

Bittle’s strength is glaringly obvious right now.

The mirror provides an optimal view for Jack as he rests before his last set. Bittle’s perched on the seat, hands on the grips behind him for balance. His brow is furrowed, and the collar of his shirt dark with sweat from the effort from today. For once, he’s not singing or humming or bouncing along to the music in his headphones; Bittle’s breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth carefully, measured, timing his exhales with every time he manages to bring his knees together. Jack’s whole being is focused on the way Bittle’s thighs flex as he pushes them from spread wide to knees touching and back again. Over and over. All of Bittle is glistening with sweat from the exertion under the fluorescent lights and Jack— 

Jack has a sudden, visceral, all-consuming urge to taste. To run his hands from Bittle’s delicate ankles, up his calves. To hold Bittle’s thighs open wide with his shoulders so he can get his hands on his hips, his waist, his ass. To take his time, sucking the sweat from Bittle’s thighs hard enough to leave a line of bruises in his wake, before moving higher. To lick the sweat from the crease where his thigh meets his hip. To chase the drops of Bittle’s precome with his tongue. To take Bittle’s cock with his mouth, all the way to the hilt, before pulling Bittle’s hand to his own hair, encourage him to move Jack exactly how he wants, to take—

The resounding clang of Bittle’s weight stack yanks Jack out of the fantasy.

Câlisse de tabarnak—he’s in the middle of a workout, he can’t be getting distracted by a teammate of all people, and especially not Bittle. Jack depends on their hard-won friendship too much to ever even entertain the possibility—

Jack stands, busies himself with adding more weight to his own machine for his last set, determined to keep his eyes off the mirror, off of Bittle as he bustles around the machine, gathering his water bottle, bending over to wipe the seat down, ass facing the mirror—

It’ll be fine. Bittle will finish cleaning the machine. He’ll move on to the next stop in the circuit, to the machine that’s directly behind the hip adductor. Completely obscured from Jack’s view, and Jack will be able to finish his leg presses without getting distracted.

Bittle catches his eye in the mirror and gives him a small smile and a salute before bouncing off to the next machine and Jack—

Jack better do two more sets, just to be safe.

#cricket writes #running-rabbit #ficlet fest 500 #omgcp #year 2 #jack is the thirstiest actually #and also the king of self-denial #jack 110% zimmermann

[transwicky]

aight I've got a HILARIOUS au idea.

everything is the same except Wicky is a prince and nobody has any idea.

He's not first in line, and when asked, he says he's the "throwaway sibling". He's pretty well known in his home country as the second born prince, and he's kind, loves hockey, and pretty smart, even if he's not as smart as his older sibling.

The only people at Samwell who know the truth are the dean, the coaches, Ollie, Nursey, and Shitty (Ollie was voluntarily told during Year 1 after Ollie asked Wicky out, and the other two straight up knew from their parents, and knew his name and face before even meeting him).

SMH finds out in 1 of 2 ways:

Option 1: Graduation comes, and Jack's mom recognizes Wicky's grandmother or parents (whoever the monarch is), and is flabbergasted they're there, and they're just like "Yeah, we came to see our little boy graduate!" and the rest of SMH stares as Wicky jumps on his brother in excitement.

Option 2: the Newsletter literally says it, and Foxtrot goes "Wait, Wicky's a prince??" and Nursey goes "Yep" while the rest of SMH stare at her and then him like "what the fuck are you talking about?"

In Option 2: Bitty specifically finds out because he has Ollie and Wicky on the channel before they leave on their honeymoon, and MULTIPLE people send messages asking how he knows a prince and his new husband and Bitty is entirely baffled, and then horrified.

#the alternative couple here is obviously coach hall and coach murray #omgcp #pacer wicks #ollie omeara #prince wicky au