mitt shit

Posts on: February 17th

Summary: Pitchers and catchers have one of the closest relationships in baseball. They’re got to understand and play off each other’s personalities, quirks, and habits to get through good times and bad, and if Cas Novak, Wildwood University’s newest catcher, wants to take that relationship with pitcher Dean Winchester off the field and make it personal, that’s no one’s business but his own…and Dean’s. He should probably let Dean know, too.

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anonymous asked:

Request: Can you do an IMAGINE (not a blurb) where Harry and Y/n are divorced but while one of them is dropping the kid's off at the other one's house, they end up staying and having sex then getting back to get her?

I was listening to this song last night, and it made me think of this request, so I decided to base it on this idea. Again, this was too detailed of a request to not be a longer blurb like I said, so I hope you like this.


This Is Me You’re Talking To

Hate is a strong word. At one time you might have felt like you hated him. But it had been a year now since the divorce and you’d both moved on. You’d resolved that you just weren’t meant to be together and were never really on the same page. In the beginning of the relationship, you’d convinced yourself that you were okay with his busy lifestyle and the fact that your time together was limited. But after five years of marriage and two kids, you’d come to resent him for that exact fact, and you finally agreed it was time to separate.

Two months ago you were out with friends for a long overdue girls’ night out, the kids staying the night with your mother. You hadn’t expected to run into Harry. You saw him regularly when you would drop the kids off for their time with him, but other than discussing their needs, you didn’t speak to him very much. It just wasn’t necessary. Knowing what he was doing with his personal life was no longer your business and frankly you didn’t care.

So when you were about to make your way to the bar behind your friends, you stopped in your tracks when you saw Harry slipping his arm off the back of a beautiful brunette. One of your friends twirled around to give you a wide stare, the other muttering “oh shit” and asking if you were okay. You rolled your eyes and assured them you were fine before continuing to the bar.

After ordering your cocktail, you caught a glimpse of Harry looking your way out of the corner of your eye. Quickly turning back to the bartender, you gave him a smile and a healthy tip when he handed you your glass.

“[Y/N],” you suddenly heard in an all too familiar voice.

“Hi, Harry,” you sighed, barely looking at him.

“Out with some friends?” he asked with a weak smile. You knew that smile. You knew all of his smiles, actually, and what each one meant. This was his nervous smile.

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Me @ any teacher who acts like they have their shit together 100% of the time.

The Talk (1/1)

AN:  I’m annoyed about Captain Swan, so I decided to write something cute.  For the record, I am of the opinion that Belle and Rumple have consummated their relationship, but for the purposes of this ficlet, they haven’t. 

Neal and Henry were making a racket outside.  Wooden swords were clacking together, Henry was whooping in delight, and Neal occasionally cursed creatively when he tripped over himself in an attempt to do a tricky move.  Emma had considered shouting at them to keep it down, as she was trying to work, but she decided against it.  They’d nearly lost Neal, a memory so sharp and painful, she avoided dwelling on it for too long.  Henry deserved this.  Neal deserved this.  And frankly, it made her happy to see them play together. 

There was a knock at the door and Emma removed her legs from the coffee table to stride across the room and open the door.  She blinked in surprise when she saw Belle standing in the doorway, holding a paper bag, looking pink-cheeked and excited. 

“Hey Belle,” Emma said cautiously. “This is a surprise.”

“I thought I’d stop by and bring you some bagels,” Belle said cheerfully, handing her the sack. “I’ve got everything, blueberry, cinnamon crunch, asiago cheese—and plenty of cream cheese.” 

“Thanks,” Emma accepted the bag and couldn’t resist a sniff.  Belle had gotten them toasted and the bag felt deliciously warm. 

Belle was still standing in the doorway, looking expectant.

“Um—Neal’s outside with Henry,” Emma glanced towards the apartment window, where she’d last seen them gallivanting on the street below.  Since Zelena’s defeat, Neal, Belle, and Rumplestiltskin had been spending a great deal of time together. 

“I know,” Belle fidgeted with the hem of her dress. “I, er, was hoping to speak with you.”

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