#cycling performance jersey

[saddledrunk]

Gallisterna Technical Winter/Rain Jacket

The winter jacket “Gallisterna” , name given after the famous hard climb in the latest 2020 Road World Championships in our home town of Imola.

The weathertight long sleeve light jacket is a hit for professional cyclists! Protection from cold wind or cold temperatures together with prevention from overheating plus a close fit are features very ambitious cyclists appreciate.The material it has been treated with DWR.

This jacket features:

Hand-Tailored in Italy by Italian Cyclists

made completely from elastic, light, windproof and water repelling Windstopper X-Lite Plus material.

DWR

Nano-Flex panels underneath the short sleeves

full-length, hidden front zip

extra long shirt tail with reflective print

high collar lined with comfortable mesh

three-compartment rear pocket with drainage holes

elastic silicone hem

Material: 92% Polyester, 8% Elastane

Reflective Strip on pockets edge for high visibility

Full Length Locking Zip with Zip cover

Drop in the bottom area to prevent wet areas

Compression Band around waist keeps three rear pockets in place

4cm Cuffs

Designed & Tested World Wide by amateurs & professionals.

100% Made In Italy

Please check the sizing chart.The fit is tight due to the technical materials.Therefore we advise to go a size up if you like a more relax fit.

For sizing outside of our standard range (including women's specific fit) please contact us.

FREE SHIPPING WORLDWIDE

#gabba #cycling performance jersey #jersey #technical cycling jersey #winter perfomance cycling jacket #gallisterna #saddledrunk #saddledrunk cycling jersey #saddledrunk cycling

[pubcapscott]

Mark Cavendish not focusing on Tour de France

Mark Cavendish not focusing on Tour de France

One of the most successful riders in the history of the Tour De France, Mark Cavendish, looks like he will miss out on the chance to make himself a record-breaker in 2022 as clearly made the Giro d’Italia his grand tour focus this year. Cavendish’s Quick-Step Alpha Vinyl squad is aiming to take the pink jersey in Italy, which means we’re unlikely to see the Manxman surpass the 34 Tour De France…

View On WordPress

#cavendish #cycling #De #Fabio #focus #France #Giro #Giro d&039;Italia #Grand Tour #helmet #It #Italy #jersey #Manxman #Mark Cavendish #Mathieu van der Poel #performance #Quick Step - Alpha Vinyl #van

[jelenew12]

Performance Cycling Jersey - Jelenew

The performance cycling jersey is the finest choice for a pleasant and smooth ride. The textiles used to make these jerseys absorb moisture rather than hold it back. To keep you dry and comfortable, they are constructed with Quick Dry technology. Know more by viewing: https://www.jelenew.com/products/short-sleeves-cycling-top-cycling-long-shorts

#Performance Cycling Jersey

[youresodarkbabe]

down on all fours (90s au rockstar a. turner x reader)

smut.

warnings: overstimulation, praise, degradation (yes, both of them), aly has dacryphilia <3, dom!al, spit :)

word count: 2.1k

everyone thank @psychedelicrocker for telling me to write this instead of f1 alex again, also it's not v obviously 90s au whoopsies

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

alex was fucked.

he had been trying to write one simple song for hours now, and nothing seemed to stick. either a lyric would be too complex for the tune or he'd dumb it down too much. there really was no in between.

in his defense, though, he was freshly free from the harsh confines of a world tour and had lost all semblance of sanity.

he kept pacing around his office until he realized something. through all of the fans and drugs and groupies, he remembered one thing that was a constant.

you.

you met alex at the new jersey show he did with his band and he was intrigued, to say the least. he brought you backstage and had his way with you, sure, but he wanted more. he needed it, or rather, you.

he got you tickets to their next show and told you to come if you could, and you did. you thoroughly enjoyed the show, just as much as you enjoyed the way he destroyed your cunt before it and the way he fucked you til you cried after. the cycle repeated, they'd finish a show, he'd give you tickets to the next one.

the boys hadn't really tried forming connections with the girls they took back to their hotel rooms because to them, it was just a one time thing, they were high and their girl of the night would be starstruck and it was a fun way to unwind post-show. alex had the same mindset for years. until you. you ruined him completely. as much as he adored tearing you apart with his cock, he obsessed over the way you'd laugh breathlessly after a good fuck. he knew he was gone the moment you kissed him, the way your lips felt against his— soft, gentle, caring— it changed him.

the feelings alex had towards you could be described in many ways. an obsession, a need, a want, a love.

he couldn't care less. as long as he had you.

he crumpled up the messy, inked sheet of paper in his hand and tosses it into the trash and runs over to his untouched suitcase and digs through it until he finds the note you gave him at the last show he'd perform before moving to the european leg of the tour. the note had your phone number along with your address and the words 'don't forget me' written with a heart.

he realizes that you only lived a few minutes down the road. he decides to take the risk and punches your number into his landline and holds the receiver up to his ear. you take your time to pick up, but he let it go, it was half past two anyways.

"um, hello?" your voice called out, almost instantly making the hairs on the back of his neck stand and his cock harden.

"hey, doll. been missin' you. been missin' your cunt, to be real specific. come over, i need my muse back." his voice is as sharp as it had always been, hearing it sending you into a frenzy. you were well and truly speechless, and he knew.

"i'll see you here, bunny."

you were still half asleep but the familiar warmth of alex's voice woke you up and you instantly got on your feet and began running around your room, scrambling around for anything to make yourself look more presentable for alex.

you quickly try fixing the mess that your hair was and apply a quick swipe of the red lipstick of yours that alex adored so much.

you threw on the first things you could find and decided you'd rather walk to his instead of driving, because all the thoughts you were thinking would not lead to a safe drive.

you showed up wearing his band's shirt and a leather jacket with spikes around the neck that almost resembled a collar.

he has to take a second to take all of you in.

he pulls you in by your waist and shuts the door behind you and gives your lips a quick peck.

"i've missed you, doll." he murmurs against your lips, "you always were my favourite from the lot."

he kisses you again, deeper this time, less sweetness and more desperation. teeth clashed, his slight stubble scratching your face, adding to the stimulation and making you hum into the kiss.

alex slips his hands from your waist to your ass, cupping the flesh and massaging it, also pushing your hips into his waist and grinding his cock into you. he pulls away, breathless.

"you know the drill. everythin' off, except that jacket. i expect you on all fours by the time i get to my room."

you open your mouth to retort but decide against it and tiptoe past him and run up to his bedroom. you get undressed and forget to put the jacket back on.

alex, still downstairs, fixed himself a drink and almost finished half of it before he was upstairs. his cock throbbing at the sight.

you were on all fours on his cozy, pristine bed, your back arched so perfectly.

"where's the jacket, doll?"

"'m sorry, al, i forgot."

alex discards his clothes slowly, leaving himself in his boxers. he crawls onto the bed and kneels in between your legs, his hands running up and down your back, pressing it into more of an arch.

"it's alright, angel," he presses a kiss to your soaked pussy from behind, "next time, hm?"

you grind against his face, trying to tell him what you need without irritating him. you hear him swear at himself before his tongue delves into your core, lapping at anything he can get. his fingers come to your front and play with your clit as he devours your dripping cunt. you feel that knot in your stomach threatening to snap as he pulls away, whining at him stopping so suddenly.

"al, please, i'm good, i need you, please—"

you moan excessively loudly when he pushes two fingers into your cunt with no prior warning, feeling your eyes rolling back into your head as his fingers thrust in and out of you, curling and hitting every spot you needed him to get to.

"what did i tell you about doubting me, sweet girl?", he asks sweetly as he spreads his fingers as far apart as he can, watching your hole gape as you scream out his name.

"never doubt you, al, never ever doubting you," you trail off as he continues his relentless movements.

alex suddenly stops all his movements, taking his hands away from you, licking his fingers clean.

"taste as good as you did the first time, doll, fuck, you're takin' me back."

alex's mind flickered back to tour, how despite you both considering your interactions as a rockstar and one of his groupies, there was something different. it wasn't just sex, at least, not to him. he constantly fantasized about taking you out, buying you anything you ever wanted and more, treating you the way you deserved.

but he wasn't sure if he deserved you at all.

he saw himself as a pathetic excuse of a man who thrives on the validation of strangers and crumbles with the slightest criticism, but that also led to him imagining how you'd comfort him in these moments of devastation.

but that wasn't important to him now, he couldn't care less.

"you ready?", he asks, finally freeing his cock, pumping it slightly while watching his pre-cum spill onto your ass and then aligning it with your aching pussy, running his tip through your folds.

"mm, yes, please, fuck—"

alex slides into you before you can finish speaking, your words turning into a choked moan. alex doesn't even hesitate and begins thrusting as fast as he can, jaw hanging open as your cunt squeezes him. his writer's block disappears, everything does. you're all he saw at that point and he didn't mind it at all.

you almost scream his name as he fucks into you with no hesitation, going as fast as he can.

"just as good as i remembered baby, god," alex groans as he runs his hands up your sides, grabbing onto your hair and tugging it so he has your back pressed against his chest. you actually scream this time, the stinging feeling of his cock stretching your cunt and the pure euphoria of the act being almost too much to handle. you throw your head back to rest on his shoulder as he keeps fucking into you, one of his hands slipping to your clit, playing with it as he littered your neck with kisses.

"takin' me like a champ, doll, so so good. perfect lil toy, aren't you? fuckin' soaked too."

his fervent thrusts get slower and sloppier as you squeeze around him. "fuck, al, 'm gonna cum, please," you beg mindlessly as he brings his other hand up to wrap around your throat, squeezing slightly as he nips at a spot under your ear.

"hm, not yet."

you whine in response, your moans getting louder and louder by the second.

"good girl, keep waiting for me, perfect lil slut," alex mutters as he slows down slightly, leaving small kisses of appreciation on your cheek as tears well in your eyes. he notices this and you can feel him twitch inside you as you tighten around him once more, unable to hold back any longer.

you scream out his name as your back arches against his chest, one of your hands flying to grasp at the back of his hair, pulling as you shake and moan until your voice is completely hoarse.

alex stills after you stop shaking and gives you a few seconds to compose yourself.

"you enjoy that? filthy fuckin' whore."

he pulls out of you roughly and flips you onto your back, almost instantly pushing his cock back into your sore cunt.

tears stream down your face as he bottoms out, you're desperate for him to stop and give your ruined pussy a break but at the same time, you can't stop yourself from wrapping your legs around his waist and trying to get him even closer. you dig your nails into alex's back as he pounds into you relentlessly, the sting of your nails scratching along his back making him hiss and go even faster.

alex's hands push your legs even further apart and he lifts them up onto his shoulders, his eyes fixated on the way he could see the outline of his cock filling you up.

"fuck, doll, you're gonna let me fill you up, aren't you? you gonna take it for me, baby?"

alex moves your hair out of your face as you nod pathetically, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. he dips his head down to take your nipple into his mouth and slows his thrusts to synchronize with tongue swirling around it, humming softly. he pulls off and latches onto your neck, his teeth clamping down slightly as he picks up his pace again, making you see stars as he fucks his cum as deep into you as possible.

alex collapses onto your chest, breathing heavily. he waits for a while before pulling out and looking at your ruined cunt, smiling as he sees the mixture of your cum and his seeping out of you.

"perfect, bunny, so gorgeous."

two of his fingers circle your aching hole once more and he pushes them into you until they only part of them he can see are his knuckles. he scissors his fingers and spits directly into you, pulling his fingers back out only to scoop up everything and push it back into you, he keeps playing with you like this until he's satisfied enough. he pulls his fingers out and taps on your lips with them and you open your mouth, sucking on them until they're clean.

"good girl, you did so well for me tonight."

he presses a gentle kiss to the space between your tits and moves upwards, leaving a kiss on your collarbone, your jaw, your cheek and finally kissing your lips.

kissing you feels liberating to him, it doesn't feel forced or purely driven by his need to fuck you. but there is something wrong.

"we can't keep doing this."

alex rested his chin on your chest and looked up at you as he spoke.

"we need to do this the right way, doll. i wanna take you out, do all that shit. let me have you, princess, please."

you open your mouth to respond but your voice barely comes out which makes you him laugh as you hide your face in his shoulder. he soothingly rubs your stomach as the laughter dies out and the silence takes over the room, alex doesn't feel awkward the way he normally would and his heart only feels lighter as he sees you nod with that smile he'd grown to adore.

"can't fuckin' wait."

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

this one's been in the drafts for ages im ngl

#cookie cooks #alex turner smut #alex turner x reader #alex turner x you #alex turner fanfic #alex turner fic #alex turner x fem!reader #youresodarkbabe #sias era smut #smut

[lettersofgold]

-> unthinkable | chapter two | jules k.

genre: angst, fluff, smut | authors note: no words for how much I love writing this fic and how much I love jules, enjoy xx | loosely proofed.

warnings: google translations, loosely proofed

summary: jules could never get it quite right. no girl gave him the feeling that he had with you. he wasn’t even sure he knew how to love a woman until you came into his life - even when he was dating around, his loyalty and heart were with you. you couldn’t find someone who stirred the feeling of love in you the way jules did, but he was just a friend and he wasn’t done playing the field. the two of you were giving each other the love you both never felt before and after fighting it for so long, you realized you both deserved it and you were finally ready.

Jules played his heart out. He struggled to think of a time in his life when he fought so hard in a match, mentally and physically, just to come out with nothing to show for it. He was depleted but still mustered up energy for fans waiting for him. He signed a few jerseys, took some photos, then headed back to the locker room to wash away the disappointment. The team was quiet except for the murmuring of the captains. His teammates trickled into the dressing room after completing their media obligations looking as solemn as he was. Jules took a long, deep breath and laid his head back in his locker and stared at nothing. He could not stop replaying the mistakes that cost them the match. He wanted to be angry but his team fought to the very end and that was all anyone could ask for. Jules felt guilty for letting the fans down and a part of him felt he let you down too. It was silly for him to genuinely want to do a stupid dance to see you smile but he wanted to make you being there worth it. It was surprising to see you in a Barca shirt, but it was even more surprising that you were cheering and laughing with a random man. He obviously was a friend or family of an employee of Barca but he had no clue who it could be. He loved seeing you cheer him on but the sight of you smiling and chatting with a man created a sour feeling that settled deep in his stomach. With the disappointment of the match, seeing you focused on someone else, and having to do a presser made him feel worse. Everything felt like utter, complete, shit. At the very least, he would be able to see and hug his friends. For that alone, he had something to look forward to after a nice hot shower.

The family area was crowded but Jules spotted Candace and Kaia immediately. Kaia was her usual, comforting self as she gave him a quick hug and words of encouragement.

“Jugaste bien, Jules. Te veías genial ahí fuera. Incluso Corey lo dijo.” (You played well, Jules. You looked great out there. Even Corey said so.)

Kaia praised Jules but all three of them knew it wasn’t enough to heal the wound created by the lackluster overall performance. The other team outplayed them, it was simple. It never failed to confuse him that his team could have all the pieces to win and look so good on paper yet continue to come up short. It was beginning to be a cycle they couldn’t break. Jules didn’t care that Candace was standing there with a tight face. He didn't pay much mind to Candace, which he found himself doing more and more as of late. She was hot and she was fun to be with but she couldn’t read the room as well as she thought. Candace kissed his cheek before wrapping herself around him for a tight hug.

“Can we take a photo?” Candace asked as she hugged him and Jules’ eye caught Kaia, who gave him a sympathetic look. She didn’t comfort him about the game, all she could think about was a photo.

“I’m not up for it right now, Candace”. He said in a low voice so no one could hear. Jules pulled away and she looked towards her feet, clearly disappointed. There was a lull of silence and Jules asked where you were, his voice neutral. He was so tired he just wanted to go home and sleep off all the losses but not without a proper goodbye to his best friend.

“I think she’s still inside the suite.” Kaia said, looking back towards the elevator. “She needs to hurry. I got an Uber.”

“I think she’s still talking to Davi.”

Davi, who is Davi? He thought. He racked his brain and there was no recollection of a man named Davi.

Candace could see the displeasure on his face and she decided to hammer the nail into the casket. She rarely found herself threatened by any woman. In fact, she liked you. What she didn’t like was Jules’ fondness for you. Yes, you two were friends, Jules made that very clear but it didn’t put out the fire created by the devil on her shoulder. She wanted Jules to herself and she thought that to be fair - they were dating…sort of. Candace knew she was the one going home with him. She was the one who was going to comfort him, love him, and sleep with him until he couldn’t think of any other woman but her. Candace was going to leave no room for questions when it came to your whereabouts so Jules knew where your priorities were - not with him and with another guy.

“They chatted the entire game.” She rasped, “She was sooo flirty.” She egged on with a tiny shimmy of her shoulders.

Candace’s eyes flickered over to Kaia who smiled softly. The woman pushed Kaia to answer to which she simply nodded in agreement before making a comment that it was only a matter of time until you return.

“I’m going to the ladies room in the meantime. I’ll be back.” Candace excused herself.

Kaia moved closer, filling the space left by Candace and as she watched Jules search the room for you, his efforts to be discreet were not effective. Kaia knew how much Jules cared for you, and that was without a doubt. However, standing there watching him search for you with downturned lips, she realized that Jules didn't just care for you as his best friend, but he yearned for your presence and attention. Kaia was amazed but also in disbelief. She knew that she needed to call her fiancé, Corey, as soon as she had some time alone and away from both of you.

“¿Estás bien?” She asked and Jules nodded but he didn’t turn to her. (Are you okay?).

“Por supuesto.” Jules questioned and finally turned to look at his friend. She had a grin tugging on her lips that she was failing to fight. “¿qué?” (Of course.) (What?)

Jules followed Kaia’s eyes and looked behind him to see you picking up your pace into a small jog to meet him with a hug. Jules breathed easier for a moment as he inhaled the familiar scent of perfume. You were giddy and if he wasn’t mistaken, you might have also been tipsy.

“Jules!” You started, your hands still gripping his arms even though you released him from the hug. Jules looked down at you then back up and behind you at the man, who he presumed to be Davi. Davi looked familiar but Jules was unable to put his finger on it.

“My voice is going to be gone when I go to work but this was worth it. You’ll get ‘em next time.” Even though people said the same thing in various ways, it sounded sincere coming from you. He took you in for a moment: the Barca shirt was form fitting and did wonders for your figure and your staple stacked gold necklaces were a perfect contrast against your skin. You looked so happy in his team colors and he knew he found a plus-one to each match Candace attended in the future.

“This is Davi,” you motioned for the man to come closer. You stepped away as Davi opened his hand and took Jules in for a dap-up and bro hug.

“Nice to meet you, man. Joáo told me about you before I came.”

“Joáo?” Jules repeated, becoming more confused about the situation.

“Davi is Joáo’s cousin.” “He’s my baby cousin.” The two of you spoke at the same time and you giggled. Jules knew you were tipsy by the way your glossy eyes found Davi’s - when you were with Jules you laughed with your whole body. Not a small, tiny giggle like the one you just did. Jules blinked slowly and turned his attention to Kaia, needing to focus on anything other than the obvious flirting that was happening in front of him. He didn’t enjoy it and it didn’t amuse him in the slightest. He found himself annoyed at the idea of it.

“Your Uber is probably on the other side of the stadium.” Jules informed Kaia, ignoring their laughter.

“Let me walk you to your Uber.” Davi offered and you accepted with the same smile that was usually aimed at Jules. It was odd seeing you basking in the attention of a man.

“Te enviaré un mensaje de texto cuando la deje en su casa.” (I’ll text you when I drop her off at her house.) Kaia assured Jules.

Jules’ jaw ticked at the sight of you and Davi and that was all the confirmation she needed - there was something more and Jules was doing an awful job at keeping it at bay.

“You owe me dinner.” You reminded him with a pointed finger. Jules chuckled with a final side hug to you and Kaia before shaking Davi’s hand. Davi motioned for you to walk in front of him and you obliged.

“See ya later Jules.” You called over your shoulder.

—

“You okay?” Iñigo’s accent was thick as he sat in his locker next to Jules. Jules was tugging off his shirt as he muttered a half-assed yes and continued changing out of his sweaty gear from training. He sighed and plopped down on the bench of his locker, putting his face in his hands for a moment and took in a deep breath before looking towards his teammate. A week passed but his mood had not changed.

“Why?” He asked with an arched brow. Iñigo was perceptive and as the question left Jules’ mouth, he instantly regretted it. He did not have the capacity to have conversations that were not about football and weren’t about the team.

“Something’s bothering you,” Iñigo stated as a matter of fact, “and your attitude sucks.”

“Nothing is bothering me.”

“You’ve been short with everyone all day.”

“So?” Jules replied, genuinely not caring about his own feelings. His tone was curt, proving Iñigo’s statement.

“Whatever, forget it.” Iñigo bowed out of the conversation and focused his efforts on changing out of his own gear, letting the silence brew between them.

The question bothered Jules but not enough for it to linger on his brain. He was thinking of contacting Corey about adding in an extra training session, which would now be five days, instead of the three days he worked in the past. Corey constantly reprimanded Jules for not using recovery days to his advantage but he never turned the footballer away when he showed up at the gym, eyes hungry and ready to conquer a session. He shot a text to Corey letting him know that he’d come in later after a couple of meetings with his manager.

—

Jules sat in his living room confirming different events his manager thought he would be interested in attending - each fashion invitation was an automatic yes. The others, he sent questions about to confirm whether or not it would interfere with his decision to add extra training to his work load. He listened to ESPN+ in the background, trying to finish the calendar quickly so he could leave for Corey’s gym. Candace came around the corner with her phone in hand before she noticed Jules on the floor with a tight look on his face as he typed on his laptop.

“You okay?” She sat on the couch beside him and tucked her legs underneath herself.

“Fine.” Jules clipped, his voice dripping with annoyance.

“Okay…” Candace drew out before leaning over to look at his calendar. “Oh my gosh, we’re going to Paris Fashion week?!” She exclaimed.

“No, I’m going to fashion week.” Jules snapped then immediately apologized when Candace slumped backwards into the couch. He moved his laptop and leaned over to kiss her pouty lips and apologized once more. “I’m so exhausted and they didn’t give me a plus one - just my manager.”

“S’okay.” She said with obvious hurt. “Just to spend more time with you, you barely see me.”

Jules placed his hands on either side of her legs and leaned in to kiss her which she greedily accepted, wrapping her hand around the back of his neck to pull him closer and deeper. The kiss was hot and slow, stirring up a need in Jules that he couldn’t deny - he loved how much she needed him. It fueled his ego.

“We have time right now,” he spoke against her lips.

“Really?” She smiled at his suddenness to be all over her. “How much time, baby?”

“More than enough.”

—

It was nearing the end of the brutal training session when the same question rolled off of Corey’s lips, “Are you good?”

“Why is everyone asking me that?” Jules rebutted. He groaned in frustration, dropping the weights harder than he should have. He stepped away from the plates and interlocked his hands on top of his head. “I’m fine.” He muttered looking up at the ceiling.

“You’ve been acting like a bitch.” Corey said nonchalantly which got him a stream of French curse words from his friend.

“I’m just tired.” Jules released with a shrug of his shoulder. Jules wore his emotions all over his body. It was in the way he walked and talked but especially in his eyes - they never lied. Corey could see through his bullshit answer.

“If you say so.”

After the match Kaia damn near kicked down the door to tell him what had happened. She had a theory that Jules was actually into his best friend, a theory which Corey refused to believe. She argued with him about it, laying out the evidence until it all came together. It was easy to see when he considered all the interactions he witnessed. But even with that revelation it meant nothing in the long run because he was dating Candace. He argued about Jules’ loyalty - the footballer was a bit of a playboy but he wasn’t a cheater. He was honest. Kaia had an argument for that too as she reasoned with Corey about why he was constantly dating women: he was getting his physical needs met but was emotionally attached to you. He didn’t just want you but he needed you.

Corey eyed his friend and began racking the weights and asked nonchalantly if Jules had talked to you recently.

“Yeah, why?” Jules chest was still heaving from the lift but was calming and eased at the mention of your name.

“Kaia was telling me about that guy…uh, I can’t think of his name…” Corey pretended.

“Davi.” He spat out.

“Him! Kaia said they’ve been talking recently,” Corey was ready to poke the bear and see what the reaction would be, “Has Joáo mentioned him?”

“No.” Jules’ tone had a bite to it and that was all the confirmation he needed.

Corey stopped asking questions and eased into telling him what to expect with adding two more days of training. He had Jules’ attention and focus but Corey’s mind still wandered to the time the two of you were sitting together at Kaia’s kitchen counter, leaned into each other as if the world didn’t exist. Corey thought of the look of Jules’ as he listened to you speaking with animated hands and how his eyes never left your face - not even once.

Jules stood with his bag on his shoulder and loosed a breath before saying goodbye to Corey. He pulled out his phone to call you and it went straight to voicemail. He called again and this time, it rang twice before it was declined. He figured you and Kaia escaped to the town for dinner considering Corey changed his plans to fit an extra training session in. He reminded himself to apologize to Kaia and give her a gift.

you: at dinner, talk later?

Jules liked the message and stuffed his phone into his pocket, tossing his keys around his finger. The night was cool and he strode to his car before stopping mid step. His heart was beating as if he just sprinted all the way there. In the moonlight parked next to his own car, sat Kaia’s polished Range Rover. Yet you were at dinner.

taglist 🔖 | @queenshikongo3 @abiigaiil1234 @hopefulromantic1 @christianpulisic10 @vile-harlot @02wrldz @milflieutenant @savecharlosfromferrari @jasmindaughteroftheworld @808heartz

#football fanfic #jules kounde x reader #jules kounde fic #jules kounde x y/n #jules kounde x you #jules kounde imagine #jules kounde #football fic #football one shot #football x reader

[ywpd-translations]

Ride 767: Rivalry between warlords

Pag 2

1: Hahaha!

2: Two people are coming up!!

Who is it?

What a force!

Uh... those jerseys... that orange hair....!!

3: It's Sohoku's second year, Kaburagi!!

Hahaha, sorry for the wait! A hero always arrives late!!

Pag 3 / 4

They gathered from all over the country.... to decide the strongest in Japan!!

Pag 5

1: Two people from Sohoku caught up to the lead!!

Uh... Sohoku

Sohoku... and it's two of them!!

2: Senpai, is he strong?

That's the guy who last year competed until the end against Hakogaku for the sprint battle of the first day!!

3: I'll say it again

4: Hahaha, sorry for the wait! A hero always arrives late!!

He really said it a second time!! Does he like that sentence so much!?

Pag 6

1: “Join the lead” completed, Issa!!

Hahaha just as we planned, Danchiku!!

Pag 7

6: Senpai, the fact that they're here

7: means that are chances of winning are lower, right? It means big troubles for us, who used our legs, jumped ahead and got here with so much efforts, right!?

8: That's not a “hero” at all!! Rather, it's the opposite!!

Pag 8

1: Come forward if you wanna be defeated

2: Such an overwhelming confidence!! What arrogant attitude!! Ug!! Ah!?

3: But, somehow, he's a little cool!!

4: Wait wait wait

Wait!!

Pag 9

1: Small, small

You're small!! Sohoku!!

Ah?

2: A man's strength is “thickness”!!

3: Oh

4: Just now there was a guy from Nagoya who also didn't know

Just

5: Tch

6: I wanna make you understand by strength!!

Pag 10

1: Look at this thick neck!!

2: This thick waist!!

3: If you ride a first-class road-bike you should understand too!!

A thick waist is the trunk of your body!! And the trunk is the most important muscle to turn your legs and move your bike forward!!

4: And then, the “neck”!!

5: The heaviest part of the body.... the head accounts for one-fifth of the body

And it supports it from the side!! In other sports, the head is supported by the spine, only in cycling it's supported only by your neck's muscles!! That thickness stabilizes all your movements!!

6: These two things are “thick”!!

Do you understand what it means?

7: Kaburagi-kun!!

Pag 11

1: Let's race!!

2: No need for words, let's speak with our legs!!

How 'bout until the second roadsign!?

4: No problem

5: I'll entertain you!!

6: You'll recognize the “thickness”!!

7: The race between those two is starting!!

Pag 12

1: The thickest volcano in Japan is Sakurajima!!

Pag 13

1: The thickest radish in Japan is the Sakurajima radish

2: Kagoshima's Oosumi jumped ahead!!

Oosumi-kun!! His killer phrase came out!!

3: An explosive acceleration, just like a volcano's eruption!!

4: And his trunk.... his thick trunk

5: is moving forward like a log in a flowing in rapids!!

Pag 14

1: They call me “the raging log of Kagoshima, Oosumi”!!

My way of running is crushing everything!!

2: On the other hand, Sohoku's Issa got a late start!!

3: And his pedaling doesn't even have any explosive power

4: Is his condition not good!?

Pag 15

1: He's pedaling so... unconcerned...

He's just pedaling.... huh!?

4: and yet....

6: He caught up to Oosumi!!

7: H-

Pag 16

1: How!!

2: Your power is “thick” but your power loss is “thick” too

The really fast pedaling... haven't you heard it?

3: Is the one that appears weak at first glance

5: Is that the second roadsign?

6: Since you got here

7: I'll show you

8: He raised his hips from the saddle

Pag 17

1: Hoooooooo

2: My explosive acceleration!!

3: Ra!!

5: Ngh....!!

He's getting smaller in the blink of an eye.....

Pag 19

2: He accelerated with a popping sound!?

3: Hahaha, so how was it?

4: My Special Strong acceleration, that's had another power up since last year?

5: Sohoku defeated Kagoshima!!

The raging log!! And with a huge margin, even!!

Oosumi-kun!!

So strong... is he really a hero?

Pag 20

1: As expected by Issa

You sure show your strength during a “race”

2: Your high power, judgment, and wild instincts are first class

3: With this performance, you erased

4: this leading group's will to fight!!

5: There's 6km left until the...

6: sprint line!!

Pag 21

1: (Kaburagi and Danciku

Leading group)

We've passed a group of some people while coming here, but as expected there's no one else....

2: who will catch u.....

6: ….. Sohoku

Somehow

8: This pressure!!

Pag 22

1: Hakogaku's Doubashi!!

Pag 23

1: Yo!! It's been a while, orange!!

2: I came here to shoot you down!!

3: Thick!! Who is this thick guy!!

4: Ha.... Hakone Acedmy in a moment like this!!

5: What's with this pressure

6: He caught up? Until here and on his own!!

7: Ugh!!

What do we do, Issa!!

Pag 24

1: I won't forgive you...

I'll never forgive you....!!

3: You've arrived after me and so now I look like less of a hero!!

#yowamushi pedal #yowamushi pedal translations #yowapeda #yowamushi pedal manga #yowapeda manga #yowamushi pedal spoilers #ride 767 #kaburagi is the most annoying person ever i ADORE him #also i love the others' reaction to him in this chap #they all know hes ridiculous but also hes kinda cool isnt him #also thick guy creeps me out sorry lmao good job kabu in teaching him a lesson #AND NOW WE BEGIN WITH THE REAL RACEEEEEE #i really have no idea how this will go #on one hand i think kabu might win bc this is his revenge after last year #but also #with this ih watanabe really decided to be unpredictable so WHO KNOWS #and also theres Kiji???? i kind of have a feeling kiji is gonna win everything this first day

[maccreadysbaby]

A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne

batfamily + oc insert

tw: small amounts of blood & gore

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

i’m actually excited about this extremely creepy supervillain chick i’ve just made

part seven

❝ THE SECRET KEEPER ❞

TUESDAY — AUGUST 4 — 11:00PM

THE SECOND DAY OF SCHOOL WAS JUST LIKE THE FIRST, EXCEPT DUKE DROVE THEM FROM THE MANOR. He walked Bentley in and around. Alfred had packed Bentley a lunch that day so he wouldn’t have to go through that dreaded line, and Duke taught him how to use the school microwave. 

First block, they learned about the water cycle. Which Bentley found interesting, because he found out that when it rained there wasn’t actually any new water coming down, it was all water that had already been on Earth, just recycled.

Asten and Nico were quieter — due to the classwork — but they still tried to include Bentley in their conversations. They talked about lots of things, from different rivers to the young woman that had gone missing the previous night. (Bentley knew about it because Tim had returned to the cave to do some research regarding it. Then Damian got in a screaming match with him, again, and Tim left before patrol.)

Second block was the same — sitting in the library and doing nothing. He didn’t mind it. He didn’t have any homework yet, but if he had, he would’ve done it in there.

In US Geography, they started by talking about the different regions of America — Northeast, Mid-Atlantic, Southeast, Midwest, Southwest, Northwest, and West. They had worksheet where they had to label a map of the states and color the regions. He enjoyed it, and he also learned that New Jersey, where they lived, was in the Mid-Atlantic. 

In Spanish, they learned about the origins of the language. Apparently, at first, it was a type of Latin that separated more over time. He thought it was cool that one language could turn into another. Asten talked to him, too, about when he lived in Brazil. (Mostly complaining about how America was so expensive and he’d rather starve to death than pay their exorbitant prices.)

All in all, school was good, just like it had been the day before. Nico and Asten walked out together, into the city for a bus stop, Bentley assumed. (He was just checking incase Nico needed a ride.) Bruce was happy to hear that Bentley had another nice day, and he made sure to tell him about the water cycle and the region they lived in.

The Manor was quiet when they got home. It wasn’t a surprise that no one was around, everyone had been avoiding the place since Damian fell into whatever rage filled funk he was currently in. Everyone but Dick, who showed up randomly. Bentley was starting to get worried. Because when Dick spoke to Damian, he usually drew more out of him than anyone else. But now, even the renowned Dick Grayson was getting curt one-word answers and words tinged with venom.

It was strange, given that Dick had practically raised Damian back when Bruce was away a few years ago. (Missing? Dead?) Bentley never thought there could be any real bad blood between them — they seemed to have the most stable relationship in the family. (Well, as stable as you can call a baby assassin and a circus performer turned brothers, turned guardian and kid, turned Batman and Robin, then turned brothers again?)

Bentley had pretty much given up on keeping communication with Damian and was in hardcore avoid him mode now. He wasn’t sure what happened to make him so upset, or why it was lasting so long. He just wished he could fix it. When Damian was mad, the world tilted on its axis. Everyone in the Manor either left or, in Dick’s case, tried to help. Even Duke had been disappearing for daytime patrol or to friend’s houses earlier than usual.

And as much as Bentley loved Dick, he was too preoccupied by trying to help the young assassin, so he hadn’t even spent that much time with him. And Bentley was starting to miss everybody else.

Well, at least he had Barbara to talk to.

It only took a few minutes for Bentley to convince Bruce to let him sit in on patrol on a school night. (It really only took some puppy-dog-eyes and a line about how Damian stayed up for patrol and he went to school, too.) 

Now it was nearing eleven-thirty at night, and Bentley was beside Barbara, next to the Batcomputer in the cave, spinning side to side in an office chair that was moved there just for him. Damian and Bruce had just left for patrol about an hour ago. It was a gamble who would show when they didn’t stay at the Manor (Tim hadn’t come out for patrol a few times since he’d been gone, and Bentley wasn’t sure what kind of pattern Jason was on, but it was definitely a pattern.)

He watched the aerial view of Gotham on the screen. Over the next fifteen or twenty minutes, comms crackled to life and trackers appeared on the map. Batman, Robin, Nightwing, Spoiler, Orphan, and Red Robin were out tonight. (aka Bruce, Damian, Dick, Steph, Cass, and Tim.)

“Why isn’t Jason out?” Bentley wondered aloud. Barbara brushed her red ponytail over her shoulders, her glasses reflecting the screens in front of her so much that Bentley couldn’t really see her green eyes.

“He hardly skips. Sometimes he just doesn’t connect to the comms,”

Bentley shrugged. That sounded like something Jason would do.

An alert popped up on the left side of the massive screen, next to the map, and Barbara sat up straighter and went to typing. “Oracle to everyone; There’s been reports of a new metahuman heading this way from the North — articles were published by reporters and bloggers in the Drew area.”

Bentley involuntarily shivered. It’s been a long time since anyone had talked about Drew.

“Any details?” Tim’s voice sounded from the other end of the tech.

Barbara went to click-clacking on the keyboard, pulling up a few news articles and blog reports in different places on the screen. Bentley scooted closer and scanned the photos that came with them — it was a girl in a bright yellow cloak and black jumpsuit, platinum hair, and… her mouth was messed up? He couldn’t really tell what was wrong with it — in the picture she was just walking down the sidewalk, and the camera was too far away to tell.

“None except for the fact that it’s a woman. Apparently she goes by the name Secret Keeper. She wears a yellow cloak and… oh, seriously?”

“What, Oracle?”

The walking on the sidewalk picture switched to a closer one. The girl had deep amber eyes (not a normal color) and a piercing gaze (she was staring right into the camera), and her mouth…

Her mouth, it was… it was sewn together. It was a grisly sight — they looked… recent, the stitches. The thick thread looked like it had once been white, but it was now a deep crimson, nearly black instead, and each puncture was red and irritated and bloody looking. The stitches went out beneath her bottom lip and went in above her top, unevenly spaced and painful looking. The stitches trailed up her cheeks in a curve to create a twisted, sickening smile made of thread and half-dried blood, in and out from the inside of her mouth.

Barbara wasted no time removing the close-up from the screen when Bentley made a small, strangled noise of discomfort in the back of his throat.

“You okay, squirt?” Barbara broke her trance on the computer to glanced over at Bentley momentarily.

The girl looked like something out of a horror movie, and while the picture was gone now, it was forever burned in his brain and Bentley’s skin was crawling. He shifted uncomfortably in the chair so he could bring his knees up. “That was scary looking.”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have made it so big,” She said quietly, then went back to talking to all the vigilantes on her comms. “Her mouth is sewn shut. Like literally sewn shut. I’ll send you guys pictures so you can look out for her while I try to ping her location,” Bentley watched Barbara drag one of the tabs off of the screen while her polished fingers danced across the keys at a speed he could only imagine. 

“No reports of her abilities or any crimes committed?” It was Bruce’s voice now. Sorry — Batman’s.

More tabs popped up and went away on the screen. “No. It’s… I don’t know. It’s like all of these reporters are scared of her for no reason. None of them point back to anything she’s done, all the photographs are of her just… walking around.”

Dick’s telltale tenor voice came: “Then how do they even know she’s a metahuman?”

“I don’t know, I’m looking into it,” Barbara replied. The Batcomputer beeped, and another tracker appeared on the map. “Facial recognition software pinged her on the Northern outskirts of Gotham. Nightwing, you’re closest, but I’m sending her coordinates to everyone. Stay sharp.”

“Always am,” Dick replied.

After a few minutes of silence, during which Dick’s blue tracking dot moved across the map, Barbara spoke again:

“Lots of these reports say they saw her in a dream-like state before they ever saw her in person. One from the blog Drew Confidential says: I’d never seen the girl before in my life, until I fell asleep that night. I could hear her voice and see her botched face. It was like I could feel her in my head, and I knew she had to be stopped. I didn’t know, however, that I would see her, yellow hood tugged over her head, walking right by my office building the next day. I knew her name without ever speaking a word to her — Secret Keeper. Several of the first hand accounts talk about dreams coming first, and then seeing her for real.”

Bentley cringed. This was starting to freak him out a little. A girl called Secret Keeper whose mouth was sewn shut and appeared in your dreams before appearing for real was nightmare fuel for sure.

Apparently, Steph agreed. “Okay, weird. I’m just going to be busy walking elderly people across the road.”

“She’s moving to the East, Nightwing. Slowly — looks like she’s just walking down the street. Keep your head on your shoulders.”

Dick responded with a quick:“Gotcha.”

Bentley watched Nightwing’s blue tracker drift across the map, toward the red flashing one in the top corner. 

“Red Robin, standby to assist,” Barbara ordered.

“Standing by,” Tim replied.

Bentley shuddered again when he imagined that girl talking to him in his dreams like the reporter said. Talking to him with her mouth like that — it would hurt, like the threads ripping through her skin every time she opened her mouth. Was that why it looked like she was always bleeding?

He flinched with a pitiful little squeak when Alfred (the residential medical expert.) moved something in the medbay across the cave with a loud, metallic clack. And Bentley flinched again when a hand landed on his shoulder, whipping around to see Barbara looking back at him.

“Maybe you should go see if Agent A needs any help,” She murmured.

Bentley had learned that Agent A was what they called Alfred when they were on comms. Bentley didn’t have his own nickname yet, because they never talked about him, but if Barbara was ever talking to him while she was on comms, she’d taken a liking to using squirt.

“No, I’m okay,” He replied, wrapping his arms around his knees. “I want to watch.”

“Oracle, I’m closing in on her position,” Dick’s voice came, and Barbara turned without responding to Bentley. She moved all the tabs to the sides of the screen so she could focus on the map. Tim’s gray dot was going in the same direction Dick’s was, but farther behind.

When Barbara pushed all the tabs to the side, a big one landed right in front of Bentley’s face. So naturally he had to read it.

It was like a fever dream — I didn’t know where I was or who was around, but I could hear a voice, a girl’s voice. She kept laughing and laughing.

Oh God. This really sounded like a horror movie.

Then I saw her face. Her distinctly terrifying eyes that nearly glowed in the dark, the crooked smile sewn across her bloody face. The voice told me not to worry, that she wouldn’t tell my secrets. And she brought her pointer finger up to her mouth like a little kid telling me to shh.

I chalked it up to being a weirdly vivid nightmare. I went on a run after the fact to clear my mind — and then I saw her. Walking down the street in my neighborhood. Yellow eyes, cape, stitches and all. Real stitches, not halloween fakes. She waved at me, but said nothing, and made no moves to attack. I ran home, and she didn’t follow. 

I’ve seen more reports of others seeing this same girl, and my question is… why did she choose us? Is she human? And what’s going to happen to the people she chose to reveal herself to?

Is this a metahuman playing with our minds? Or is it something else, something-

The tab disappeared before Bentley could finish it. He glanced over at Barbara, who sent him a look that combatted Bruce’s dad look. “It’s probably not the best idea for you to be reading this stuff. Especially so close to bed.”

Bentley didn’t argue. That stuff was creepy anyways.

“I’ve got eyes on her,” Dick said through the comms. “And she’s… got eyes on me?”

Barbara creased her brow. “Elaborate, Nightwing.”

“She’s waving at me. She was waving as soon as I walked up, like she knew I was coming,”

Barbara sighed. “Well, she hasn’t done anything yet, so the most we can do is monitor from afar. I’ll let the police know where she was and keep her pinged on the Batcomputer, for now.”

“Alrighty,”

Bentley glanced down at his socked feet. The idea that a creepy girl was just wandering Gotham made him a little nervous to go to school.

“I’m also going to set up the system to alert us when she gets near large public gathering places — schools, the library, malls, the bank, county buildings,” Barbara stated, fingers darting all over the keyboard as though she literally read Bentley’s mind. 

“Roger that, Oracle. Should I-“

Dick’s voice was cut off by a sudden, sharp gasp. Not a surprised gasp, like he’d seen something shocking, but a gasp like… like…

Like he was in pain.

“What was that, Nightwing?” Barbara questioned gently. Bentley straightened a bit in his chair, hoping and praying Dick would come back and say he hit his head on a pipe or something.

He didn’t say anything.

“Nightwing, status,”

The only response she got was a faint static noise, and silence.

“Nightwing, we need a status report. Can you hear me?”

Silence.

“Red Robin-“

“I’m going,” Tim replied hastily, and his dot started moving faster.

Bentley stared intently at the little blue dot (Dick) and the little red flashing dot (creepy mouth girl). They were on opposite sides of the road, and neither were moving. Dick’s tracker was even in the middle of a building, probably because he was on the roof. The creepy girl wasn’t close to him at all.

“Nightwing, report,”

No response. Tim’s dot got closer to his.

“I have eyes on him. He’s alone, the girl is still across the road, walking on the sidewalk,” Tim stated, his dot bouncing from roof to roof until he was on the same one as Dick.

“Careful, Red,” Barbara ordered.

A few silent moments passed. “Red Robin, what’s Nightwing’s status?”

Bentley hoped it was perfectly fine. Perfectly fine and normal.

“Unconscious and unresponsive to external sound or touch,” So, notperfectly fine and normal. “Heart rate and breathing is extremely elevated, excessive sweating and minimal twitching. No signs of trauma or injury. It’s… like he’s having a nightmare, but I can’t wake him up.”

Barbara clicked around for a few moments.

“He’s… shoot. Okay. Nightwing, buddy, can you hear me?”

“What’s going on, Red?”

“He’s crying. It’s, uh… similar reaction to when he gets hit by fear toxin,” Tim said. 

“B, what’s our next move?” Barbara questioned. 

Bentley heard Bruce hum to himself. “Red Robin, take Nightwing back to base, then return to your route.”

“On it,”

Bentley sighed heavily, picking at the hem of his pajama pants. So, either Dick was having some kind of super sudden breakdown thing right in the middle of patrol, or the Secret Keeper had done something to him without touching him. It might sound bad, but Bentley hoped it were the former.

Both Tim and Dick’s dots started to move, but the red flashing one, the girl’s, stayed in place.

“My God — she’s waving goodbye like a creep,” Tim muttered.

“How are you feeling, Red? Stable?” Barbara questioned. She had a document pulled up that she’d been typing in for a few minutes now, Bentley could see her listing Dick’s symptoms into various slots.

“Yes. No residual effects so far,”

“Keep us updated if you start to feel strange; Spoiler, Orphan, keep your comms on for assistance if Red needs it,”

“Yes ma’am,” Steph replied.

It was quiet for a few minutes. Bentley watched Tim and Dick’s dots move, and waited for the moment Tim radioed in to tell Barbara he was feeling off, too, but that time never came.

What came instead was Tim’s motorcycle screeching loudly into the garage area of the cave.  

Bentley couldn’t see down there (the cave was massive.) but he did see Alfred disappear, and after a few minutes, reappear. He had Dick’s left arm hooked around his neck, and Tim had his right, and they were practically supporting all his weight on the way into the medbay.

“Babs, can I…?” Bentley gestured vaguely toward the medbay. Barbara glanced over at him, before nodding.

“Just make sure to do exactly what Agent A asks you to, even if he says you should leave,”

Bentley nodded quickly and pushed himself out of the office chair, high-tailing it toward the medbay.

He could hear Dick before he even got there — crying, whimpering like he had been that night in his sleep. Mumbling incoherently, frantically even though not a word he was saying made any sense.

He was at least relieved that when he took the left turn into the medbay, Dick just looked like Dick. In his Nightwing uniform, sure, but Alfred had already taken his domino mask off. His chest was heaving like he couldn’t get enough air, and his eyelids kept flitting like he was so close yet so far from waking up. His skin was coated with a thin sheen of sweat and he was shifting around on the bed uncomfortably.

“Master Bentley,” Alfred greeted. “If you would keep Master Dick company while I run some tests, that would be most helpful. A familiar presence is sometimes the most useful aid of them all.”

Bentley nodded slightly, heading over toward the bed Dick was on. The medbay had a bunch of beds, and there were medical supplies and machines all around the room, but it still wasn’t as scary as the hospital. Maybe because Alfred was the resident medical professional.

“Master Tim, you may return to your patrol,”

Bentley glanced over at Tim. He was in his Red Robin gear, but the cowl had been taken off and his hair was a wreck because of it. 

“Are you sure?”

Alfred merely nodded from the other side of the room, where he was putting on latex gloves ever-so-gracefully. Bentley wondered how he wasn’t freaking out. Bentley was definitely freaking out.

“Positive, my boy,”

With that, Tim left the medbay. Alfred approached the bed Dick was on with a syringe in his hand. “Don’t be abashed to speak to him or even touch him gently — sometimes that’s what someone needs to bring them back to themselves.”

Bentley nodded wordlessly again, and watched as Alfred grabbed Dick’s left arm and began cleaning it with an alcohol swab.

Bentley returned to the Batcomputer and rolled his office chair into the medbay, right next to Dick’s bed. He returned just in time to see Alfred take a little bit of blood. (Not much, because Dick was still squirming around.) Bentley settled down next to the bed, and Alfred ran a few more strange tests (swabbing the inside of Dick’s mouth and having him breathe into a mask thing.) Before heading to the other end of the room where machines were. 

Bentley looked back down at Dick when he flipped toward him and curled up as tight as he could, his body shaking with never-ending violent sobs. He was trembling so much it was nearly making the bed shake, and if he wasn’t already unconscious, Bentley would’ve thought that he’d pass out from hyperventilating. 

The crawling skin feeling plaguing Bentley’s body hadn’t stopped. He felt just like he did way back when Dick had a nightmare — useless and pitiful.

“Dick…” He tried softly. He lifted a hand but he wasn’t sure what he was doing with it, so it hovered awkwardly. “It’s okay. Nothing scary is happening.”

Bentley let his hand rest on Dick’s shoulder.

And Dick screamed, thrashing on the mattress. Bentley pulled his hand back like he’d been burned.

“It’s alright, lad. It wasn’t you,” Alfred reassured from the other end of the room. Bentley nodded despite feeling halfway to being in tears. This was the second time he’d seen Dick Grayson writhing in a bed, being tortured by his own mind to the point of screaming and wasn’t able to do anything about it.

He kept his hands rooted in his lap and blinked back the sting that was surfacing in the back of his eyes. 

“What’s wrong with him?” Bentley murmured, face flushing pink when his voice wavered slightly.

“I’m not sure yet, my boy. I’m running some tests now,”

Bentley said nothing. He wished Dick was conscious enough to respond, so he could ask if he could crawl up in the bed with him, but he didn’t think that was a great idea considering he’d keened when Bentley merely touched his shoulder.

He flinched when Alfred touched his shoulder. When he he gotten all the way across the room?

“You don’t have to stay, lad. I know it’s hard to watch,”

“No, I… want to stay,” Bentley replied, wiping at his eyes that were threatening to spill over. Alfred squeezed his shoulder.

“Remember that you can leave at any time, if it gets worse,”

Bentley nodded lightly, even though he had no intention of leaving.

If the roles were reversed, Bentley was sure Dick would stay glued to his bedside, and he wasn’t about to leave him alone like this.

It was going to be a long night.

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💚

—

tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @cademygod

#oc; bentley #oc; bentley whittaker #mb; a hundred ways to become a wayne #batfamily #batboys #batman #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #dick grayson #barbara gordon #oracle #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #cassandra cain #orphan #tim drake #red robin #stephanie brown #spoiler #duke thomas #signal #damian wayne #damian al ghul #robin #dc robin #ov; secret keeper #ov; the secret keeper #ov; charlie reins

[disappointingcake]

“Bat or Wayne“

One scene in a recent WFA (when Duke grapnels up the staircase and the witnesses only response is “Rich people are wild”) got me thinking: how many identity shenanigans do the Bats get away with not because they’re ~so amazing~ at being discrete, but because the Waynes do something completely ridiculous everyone shrugs and goes “yeah, that tracks”.

Then THAT got me thinking: what if people do it all the time? To the point where it’s become an in-universe meme?

Bat or Wayne: Once base jumped from the top of Wayne Tower.

Dick Grayson-Wayne. (It was a charity thing. The Bats regularly grapnel from the top of Wayne Tower, but that’s different.)

Bat or Wayne: Has a library card for the Gotham City Library branch in Park Row.

Red Hood. (And he posted a pic on Twitter proving it.)

Bat or Wayne: Has a "the usual” order at the Diamond District Batburger.

Tim and Cassandra (Going to Batburger together every Friday is their weekly tradition.)

Bat or Wayne: Has a “the usual” order at the Dairy King on McNeil.

Batman and Robin (Though it’s been a different order for each Robin.)

Bat or Wayne: Is regularly called a “dickhead” by their siblings.

Nightwing. (The Wayne kids are actually very defensive of their eldest brother’s preferred nickname. [In public. Calling Dick a dick is a family-only privilege.])

Bat or Wayne: Every member can drive a motor cycle.

Trick question, it’s both. (Yes, even Damian Wayne, though he’s only allowed to drive on private property until he’s 17.)

Bat or Wayne: Is banned from every Red Robin in New Jersey.

Red Robin. (There was this one villain who tried to- look, it’s a long story.)

Bat or Wayne: Is banned from every Red Robin in California.

Tim Drake-Wayne. (He was there for a conference and- look, it’s a long story.)

Bat or Wayne: Is banned from every Waffle House in the United States.

Spoiler. (They even have a picture of her posted in every location with “DO NOT SERVE” on it. No explanation has ever been given, by either side.)

Bat or Wayne: Can do a quadruple sommersault.

Dick Grayson-Wayne again. It was the signature move of the Flying Graysons, and is an acrobatic feat that can be achieved by only a few people in the world. No Bat has ever been documented performing one. [*cough Tim cough*]

Bat or Wayne: It’s a running joke for their siblings to put on sunglasses when they show up.

Duke Thomas. (He is, quote: “The sunshine child.”)

Bat or Wayne: Got caught by mobsters trying to smuggle exotic animals out of a bad situation.

Ironically, the Signal and Damian Wayne. (Apparently, Damian had snuck away during a field trip to an animal shelter to “liberate” some neglected parrots. The Signal was investigating that particular shelter for exotic animal smuggling, and Damian got caught up in the commotion.)

Bat or Wayne: Calls their adopted father figure “B”.

It’s both again. (And yes, it’s as adorable as it sounds.)

10/23/23 edited for clarity

#only in gotham #batfam #batfamily #batfamily headcanons #dc #DC Headcanon #wayne family adventures #and thats not even getting into all the kidnappings #i feel like cassandra is under-represented but this post is so long #edited for clarity

[straightplayshowdown]

The Wolves: The play chronicles six Saturday mornings in the lives of a soccer team somewhere in suburban America as they prepare for their games. The girls discuss everything from genocide to menstrual cycles to drugs to boys to literature to each other, and a group of girls whom at first seem indistinguishable as each is referred to by only her number and all are clad in the same jersey only bearing her number quickly become identifiable and different. In the course of six short weeks, the Wolves deal with love, loss, and identity in ways that real teenagers do.

Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime: When the lights come up, a dead dog is seen onstage. It is immediately assumed that fifteen-year old Christopher Boone is responsible. He is innocent, however, and decides to investigate. Christopher has a unique mind that is phenomenal at math, but ill-equipped to understand everyday, ordinary life. His investigation (the details of which Christopher records in a book) leads him to discover not just who killed the dog, but secrets within his own family that turn his world upside down.

Propaganda under the cut!

The Wolves:

Such an accurate portrayal of what it means to be a teenage girl, interacting and competing with old and new friends alike.

Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime: 

I have both read the book and watched the play and both are excellent, not just in story but in its depictions of autism as well. Back in highschool I choose to perform Curious Incident as a dramatic interpretation for speech and debate tournaments and I researched so many different productions and my favorite was a Chicago production that cast an autistic actor for the role Christopher that I based a lot of my acting choices on. It’s so real in its depictions in the character’s manner of speech, thought processes, movement, and the way other people (particularly Christopher’s father) treats him. I also adore the lighting and sound design of the show particularly when he gets to London and the sensory overload just attacks you- it is perfection. The set is also amazing too- it’s very minimal in a lot productions but only because the cast themselves play a lot of the set pieces, a decision that both creative and humorous (it adds a bit of levity to an otherwise pretty intense show). It’s an amazing adaptation with so many scenes that perfectly translated from page and stage and I cannot sing the praises of this play enough 

#polls #round 1 #the wolves #curious incident of the dog in the nighttime #the straight play showdown

[spadesolace]

two? four? what?

pairing: idol! yuna x fem! reader (platonic)

warnings: n/a

yuna doesn’t know how to ride a bike.

you knew this from the beginning, having the girl be so athletic but could never ride a bike blew your mind. she had a concert to prepare for, her solo stage was maniac, a song you introduced to her and somehow she just chose it. the problem was… she had to learn how to ride a bike.

this was not what you were expecting on your saturday morning, yuna with her manager asking for your help to teach her how to ride a bike. out of all the people yuna knew, she asked you, there was no issue to it on your end but your bike wasn’t the most suitable for beginners. if yuna was to floorball, you were to cycling. out of your two bikes, a road bike (which is commonly used in competitions) and a mountain bike.

this led to you and yuna buying her own bike, paid by the company because it was a skill she needed to learn. bike shopping wasn’t as easy as clothes, she had to pick what bike she wanted, she chose a japanese bike, but her manager had asked where was she going to place it? her answer? at your place.

you planned on buying yuna a proper bike, something that she could use and easily store like a folding bike but… the company had decided that the bike she chose is what will be used at the concert. you left the store with a pink japanese bike and a happy yuna. of course, you would still put yuna’s interest first over anything.

han river, it was probably the safest place you could teach yuna how to ride a bike despite a few taking pictures of the event.

“look straight and don’t look down.” you kept repeating that phrase as if it were a mantra. a tandem bike would have made the learning experience easier for yuna but the girl was scared. everytime you would try to let go, she would already be screaming and wobbling (have to admit, it was funny). the solution you came up with? keep helping her balance and very slowly let go.

it failed.

yuna kept swaying but she was pedalling non-stop, she got scared of stopping because she knew she would fall at the same time you were scared she might get a scar. sprinting towards her only left you clutching onto the seat and holding yuna before she could fall into the river. she as stupid and careless it may seem, actually rode a bike. she couldn’t steer it.

it went on, until sunset where yuna freely rode her bike and you watched her avoid almost every obstacle and turn right back to you. saturday was well spent and yuna learned a new skill, which meant you could finally buy her a custom bike, complete with jersey and shoes.

on the day of the concert, yuna got you a ticket as a sign of gratitude. watching her enter the stage while riding a bike, you felt proud… but was then shattered when you saw the training wheels. did i just spend an entire day teaching my best friend how to ride a bike only for her to perform her solo stage with training wheels? YES, YES I DID.

yuna profusely apologized after the concert.

#itzy imagines #itzy x reader #itzy #shin yuna #yuna x reader #yuna itzy #kpop gg #kpop x reader #kpop #platonic

[hashirun]

Grabe I lost count just how many times I cried while watching Tour de France Unchained on Netflix. The docuseries covers the 2022 edition of the Tour de France, the most prestigious and arguably the most difficult road cycling race in the world. It consists of 21 stages through three weeks of racing across France in all manner of terrain - from flat to hilly to mountain terrains.

As a spectator I've always found myself drawn to preternaturally gifted athletes - the biggest example would be my decade long obsession with Roger Federer - so it was only natural that for the past two years I've only had my eyes trained on Tadej Pogacar, the Slovenian wunderkind who burst into the scene in 2020 by winning the Tour de France on his first try. He successfully defended his title in 2021, and seemed all but certain to retain it as well in 2022, but the cycling gods apparently had other plans.

So through the entire course of last year's Tour de France my focus was on Tadej, how he lost the yellow jersey (worn by the general classification leader) to Jonas Vingegaard in stage 11 at the Col du Granon, and how he fought (but ultimately failed) to reclaim it in the succeeding stages.

Anyways so much for the long intro, I guess what I was trying to say is that Tour de France Unchained allowed me to witness other narratives at play during last year's Tour. It wasn't just about Tadej Pogacar, or the eventual winner Jonas Vingegaard and his superteam Jumbo Visma. Of course at the end of the grueling three week race it's still about who wins the general classification contest (finishing all 21 stages with the lowest combined time), but the docuseries allows its viewers to take an intimate look at the other teams and their riders. While the most important prize is the general classification, riders get to compete for individual glory everyday for 21 days through a stage win - who crosses the finish line first for the day's stage.

Aside from Tadej, my second favorite cyclist in last year's Tour was Wout van Aert, Jonas Vingegaard's teammate who won the points classification contest as well as the combativity award. He is, by his own right, a superstar - he's won a lot of races and is very electrifying to watch. So it came as no surprise to me when episode 2 put forward an intriguing narrative - Wout van Aert, wearing the yellow jersey on the strength of his brilliant performances for the first 3 stages, sprinting to stage 4 victory instead of waiting for and assisting his teammates Primoz Roglic and Jonas Vingegaard.

So what's wrong about going for the stage win? Well the thing is, there is a hierarchy in cycling teams, with the leader firmly on top, while the rest of the team are domestiques or secondary riders. The leader is the one who rides for general classification, while the domestiques' primary role is to support the leader. In Jumbo Visma's case, they appointed two leaders: Primoz Roglic and Jonas Vingegaard, while Wout van Aert was relegated the role of a domestique. Since the biggest objective of any team is to win the general classification, when the leader (who is gunning for general classification) is in a pickle then the domestique is expected to be there to bail him out.

As a star himself Wout always rides with pride. So it must've been somewhat difficult for him to strike a balance between riding for personal glory and riding for the team.

I also enjoyed the changing of guards narrative- at its center are INEOS Grenadier's Geraint Thomas, winner of the 2018 Tour de France and his battle for a 2022 podium finish, along with his young teammate Tom Pidcock and his exhilarating downhill attack to secure the stage 12 win.

But perhaps my favorite narrative in the docuseries will always be that of Jasper "Disaster" Philipsen, whose nickname was given to him by his teammates because of his bad luck in races. At the stage 4 finish line, Jasper wildly celebrated what he thought was a stage victory only to find out that it was Wout van Aert who crossed the line moments earlier in a solo breakaway that Jasper didn't notice. It was the kind of stuff memes are made of. Jasper redeems himself by winning stage 15 by outsprinting Wout himself - what a fitting comeback.

While these are my favorite narratives, I thoroughly enjoyed Tour de France Unchained as a whole. It reminded me that as one of the biggest cycling races in the world anything can happen at the Tour, and that the event will always be bigger than just a single person. Allez!

#Tour de France #Tour de France Unchained #Netflix #biking #cycling

[maxinedoddart]

Tour de France 2022: Barguil et Bardet

Two greats of French cycling for Bastille Day... Allez Allez!

Stage 11 was a defining stage for many reasons, not least that the Yellow Jersey changed hands and possibly decided the winner of the race itself, but you can never tell! However, it was also a great stage because we saw some wonderful performances from other riders too. Young stars and older guys who I have followed in paint and pen for some years – not least two French stars, Warren Barguil and…

View On WordPress

#alps #art #bardet #barguil #bastille day #climbing #Cycling art #Maxine Dodd art #mixed media #peloton #racing lines #road cycling #sports art #TDF2022 #Tour de France #velo art

[hizokucycles]

Crushed a solid 40 mile ride this afternoon with 2329ft of climbing down & up 1000 Palms Rd on my single speed 48x17 steel Kilo TT, my legs are definitely feeling spicy 🔥 I am rocking some new gear by @theblackbibs their jersey & bibs are awesome, they fit great & perform even better. Check out & follow @theblackbibs I was also wearing my new @opticnerveeyewear killer Fixie Max Shades, they have all types of great eye wear. @valleyxkittens #cycling #cyclist #bike #bicycle #singlespeed #hizokucycles Hizokucycles.com https://www.instagram.com/p/CmNcnVbp1YN/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#cycling #cyclist #bike #bicycle #singlespeed #hizokucycles

[onexeyedxtwin]

So with the ending in mind, let’s talk about the city that Clyde lives in for a second! Again, Spoilers below!!

Clyde and his family all live in a city known as New Inkwell! It’s in an area where New York & New Jersey were originally, but with the storybook world that Joey created now completely blended into reality, things have been... a little wonky geographically speaking.

While other areas struggle to adjust to the new rules of the world, New Inkwell has developed pretty quickly and the citizens had very little trouble adjusting to this new world, Clyde being one of them. 

Clyde works at a bar called cloud nine, created and owned by a dear friend of his, Alice Angel. Not twisted Alice, no Allison, but another Alice Joey crafted a few cycles in. (AKA The Alice I write. IODMAIODMWAD) Clyde works as a performer for a livable wage, able to afford a rather modest town house for his family.

However, with Audrey, Bendy, Malice, and Sammy also residing in these streets, the area has swiftly become extremely dangerous, especially during the night. Folks are advised to stay off the streets at night, and keep your doors locked... Less the ink demon come for you next...

#A world painted in black and white: Worlding building #outofink #batdr spoilers

[saddledrunk]

2022 Robert Försteman Cycling Kit

PLEASE REMEMBER MOST OF OUR PRODUCTS ARE MADE TO ORDER THEREFORE PLEASE ALLOW UP TO 6 WEEKS FOR DELIVERY

Pro Cycling KIt (Cycling Jersey + Cycling Bib Shorts) available in 2022 design.

Specifications:

Tailored in Italy

Italian Textiles

Ergonomic fitting Jersey

Specific side panels to keep jersey light and the body fresh.

Silicon Gripper Elasticated Arm & Leg Bands

Full Length Locking Zip

Three back pockets with elasticated openings

Compression Band around waist keeps three rear pockets in place

High performance Chamois

Reflective tags

For sizing please check our sizing chart.

**PLEASE NOTE**

For sizing outside of our standard range please contact us.

Attention please Free pair of white socks will be supplied.Those will be made by SaddleDrunk

#Cycling kit #Robert förstemann #Robert förstemann germany #Robert förstemann cycling kit #Robert förstemann cycling jersey #Robert förstemann cyclist #cycling kit made in italy

[1337wtfomgbbq]

I got more 90s/00s cycling drama, and I don't care that nobody cares, I wanna ramble.

Those were the good old times back in 2001 when Virenque was accused of having bribed Ullrich during the 1997 TdF to allow him to win a stage.

Ullrich and Virenque drove the last 13 kilometers of the stage together back then, up the Courchevele. Roussel alleges that Virenque asked Ullrich, "you are gonna let me win right?" and that Ullrich made a money gesture at him in response. Following that, Ullrich let him win and Virenque payed 100.000 francs for that.

Roussel also alleges that on a later stage in the Vogesen, where Ullrich almost lost the yellow jersey, that Virenque made similiar offers to Olano and Pantani, which failed because he offered both of them too little money (only 10.000 francs)

Roussel alleges he stated to Virenque that you don't offer Pantani only 10.000, "you won't find anyone who'll still shake your hand."

Allegedly he told Virenque that it would take 50.000 per driver and 100.000 per team captain, all in all half a million francs, to start an attack against Ullrich.

He also alleged that Bjarne Riis did the same thing a year prior. Supposedly he payed the swiss driver Laurent Dufaux 30.000 francs for his win in Pamplona. Roussel alleges that Dufaux later told him that (*🤨sure jan*).

The thing is though, stuff like that wasn't uncommon? And I mean the, allowing another driver to win, not the paying another driver for a win part.

Remember that post I made about this Armstrong Pantani situation of 2000. That's what I mean.

Especially when the wearer of the maillot jaune and another driver essentially finish a stage together, aka taking the last 13 kilometers together (like Ullrich and Virenque), it's almost expected of the leader of the general classification to let the other rider win the stage.

Indurain was pretty known for that actually.

Virenque meanwhile said to those accusations: “Bruno (Roussel) has really taken me for an idiot. I mean, do you think I would be so naive to believe that I could buy a stage victory in the Tour de France for 100.000 francs? Everything he says is false. What happened that day was that Olano and moreso Pantani did not want to ride for my benefit, that’s all..."

And Ullrich said: "What can I say? With such accusations with nothing to back them up people are just trying to make money.”

Ullrich had already been taking legal actions against Willy Voit at that point, who accused him of doping. Voet saying that no rider in the past 30 years won the TdF without taking performance enhancing drugs. Though Ullrich didn't take legal actions against Roussel, prefering to just keep an eye on the situation instead.

#classic tour de france #tour de france drama #tour de france 1997 #jan ullrich #richard virenque