or football rather

i cant believe people are actually offended that the barça players decided not go to the fifa gala like imagine being that dumb

anonymous asked:

So I went to a football game and asked this cute guy to take a selfie with me and he did and like it kind of made me think of like "I saw you at a football game and you were cute so my friends dared me to ask you to take a selfie" au Percabeth. HOW CUTE WOULD THAT BE. You should make that into an au✌️💕 Thanks for reading my awkward au idea👏

as per usual, this one kinda got away from me 

Keep reading

A word on the relevance of the 80s TV show “The Golden Girls“ for our society today

I have just watched the episode “Feelings”, which is the sixth episode of the sixth season, of “The Golden Girls”. This is an 80s TV show.

And the topics with which this episode dealt hit home. Uncomfortably so.

On the one side we have Dorothy having to constantly having to stand up for her principles and defending her own integrity to herself even when seriously threatened, just because she flunks a student that rather plays football than to even study one bit.

And on the other side we have Rose dealing with her dentist that has fondled her breast while she was waking up from being anesthetized. How she starts to doubt herself and what actually happened.

The episode (like many episodes of that series) has a very strong message that is relevant even today. Dare I even say, especially today, in our time and age.

Especially sentences like this from Blanche, the generally “slutty” one:
“When I submit to a man’s advances, it is with my consent. A woman has the option to say no.”

So I would recommend everyone to watch this episode, if you have the possibility. (And whilst your at it…why not watch two or three episodes or seasons? Or the whole series?)

anonymous asked:

70. Ziam please

Hiya anon,

Thanks for the prompt.  Sorry for the wait… You chose  “H-How long have you been standing there?”

This is pure nonsense with barely any plot.  Liam POV.

Its also actually surprisingly short.  Look mum, I wrote a drabble (sort of). 


Its 4.45pm by the time they get out of study group, and Liam’s late, not just slightly late, but really late for football, except he isn’t yet and he knows that if he stopped whining in his head about it then he’d probably be able to get a move on and get there in time for 5, but sometimes you can’t beat a good moan he reasons.

And truth is, he’d rather jib football and instead go for a session on the punching bag, and maybe just maybe he’d imagine it was one Zayn Malik on the receiving end.  

Only one problem with that, and that’s that it would be entirely the wrong thing to harm even a hair on that head, never mind even knock one eyelash out of its perfect formation, let alone do actually any physical damage to him at all.

So instead he slams open the door to the old classrooms in the basement, deliberately choosing them rather than the toilets upstairs because no one really knows about them, and then with a quick look around and a quick check to make sure it is empty, he starts to strip off, not bothering to crouch down or anything because the building’s practically empty as it is and because of the tales he’s told them of the ghosts that lurk downstairs (they don’t, there aren’t any but they don’t know that) it means no one would have the guts to come down here anyway alone. 

He takes off his hoodie and then his t-shirt and throws them to the floor, and reaches for his bag, pulling out the football shirt, some tatty old effort he’d found in a second hand shop 2 weeks ago after he gave up buying new ones when Louis’ attempt at being domesticated meant that his previous ones either ended up getting shrunk or dyed a completely different colour.

And well, United playing in blue?  Nah. 

He starts to think back to earlier, the reason they’re late, the reason he’s relegated to getting changed like this and why his fists are clenched the moment he stops pulling down the shirt. 

He can’t resist it as he thinks back to earlier as he thinks back to how they’d already been split off into groups and he swanned in half an hour into the group study, all casual, no apologies, with the bag slung over his shoulder, and chewing on some gum.

And he’d given that smirk, that shit-eating grin that Liam wants to bite off his li- no, what the hell Liam?, no, wipe off his face before he’d pulled a chair up and then he’d sat right in Liam’s personal space, peering over his shoulder, sniffing loudly then grabbing the paper from him and crossing out stuff that Liam had spent the last half hour thinking up, and then he’d pulled out the glasses from his bag, and well fuck him for managing to look 3 million times better somehow with glasses on and pulled the pen from Liam’s hand and scribbled out a load of sentences.

Liam had looked up at that point and at the other members of their group and Lily was texting someone and Greg was probably thinking about what he was having for tea later, and so it was all on him, and unfortunately for him, also on Zayn.

He’d stopped writing at that point and then with a cocky lopsided grin, he’d handed the pen back to Liam, dropped the paper in his lap and then stood up.

‘I’m off for a fag, see if you can find them books eh before I come back, might buy you a drink later after football if you do’

Liam says it out loud, mimicking and exaggerating the accent as he does so, and faking the pout Zayn does and doing a quite frankly terrible job of it he knows even without the benefit of a mirror.  

‘Yeah yeah Malik, you can’t make me do everything for you just on the offer of a drink, you can’t get me to do everything for you, even if you are devastatingly handsome, have a sense of humour that makes only me laugh in lectures and have that batman shirt that I’ve been wanting to get for the last 3 years, even with all that you can’t buy me, I’m not falling for your looks and your charm’  

He nods to the air, to no one in particular before he opens his mouth again.

‘You sure about that Leeyum?’  Actually he’s pretty sure he does a great impression of Zayn right there so he says his name again, the way that Zayn says it, the way that he’s grown so fond of over the years, and just cause he admits that doesn’t mean he likes him in that way you know.  

‘Leeyum, oi Leeyum, would you get me that text book please Leeyum’  and then ‘Leeyum would you turn on that computer for me please babe?’

He giggles to himself.  

‘You did an alright job there, but you need to elongate the Lee part of the Leeyum, babe’

Liam freezes.  If he pretends he didn’t hear that, it hasn’t happened right?  So he reaches for his football boots from the sports bag, feeling the tremble in his fingers as he does, and the blush spread fast from his neck upwards. 

‘About time you put them on, you’re five minutes late already, too busy doing shit impersonations of a Yorkshire accent Leeyum’  

‘ “H-How long have you been standing there?”  He turns around as he says it, cursing the fact that he stuttered over the first word. 

Zayn’s stood there, leaning against the door, that shit eating grin on his face again, he’s looking Liam up and down in that way he always does, but as he does and as he seemingly takes in Liam who if the heat he’s feeling in his face is even halfway matched by the colour in his face then he looks like a belisha beacon, the shit eating part of the grin goes and instead there’s a softer smile, the one he’s seen only a few times before, and now when he comes to think of it, its only ever been for him, cause okay he’ll admit it to himself,  Liam watches Zayn a lot you know. 

Zayn stands away from the door then. ‘Long enough to know that someone needs to spend some time learning how to enunciate properly if they’re going to succeed in imitating devastatingly handsome Yorkshire men’ and he uses air quotes with his fingers for the last 4 words, then he’s edging nearer, still appraising Liam, still looking him up and down, and he’s biting at his lip then.

‘Maybe some private tuition would be advisable in fact’  and then he’s reaching a hand out to Liam’s arm, and he has to fight the urge not to jerk away, and the hand grazes against his upper arm.

But as quick as it touches his arm, Zayn pulls it away and then he’s smirking, shit eating grin back on his face and then he’s turning away.

‘Let’s talk about it later, after you’ve won the match, scored a hat trick and saved six penalties or whatever heroic shit you pull each week’

And before he can react, before he can tell Zayn to stop being so presumptious and before he can grin like a loon cos well its hardly the worst news in the world.

Zayn waves his hand and some would think he was being dismissive but the look he throws back at Liam somehow isn’t, and then he’s gone and Liam turns away, bending down tie the laces on his boot and then reaching for the other to doing the same and he mutters to himself.

‘Private tuition indeed, not falling for that Malik'  even though yes he is, and he’s already considering how far the definition of ‘tuition’ can be pushed.  ‘Leeyum doesn’t fall for you and your stupid eyelashes and your stupid grin and those stupid crinkles’

'I heard that’ comes a voice from the corridor, and why is he even surprised, and he can play it two ways he guesses, the cool way and ignore it or even fire back 'heard what?’ or pick up his bag, toss it over his shoulder, leg it out and suggest to Zayn that he cuts the crap and comes watch him, never mind just buy him a drink after.

And the first option would be easier, right?  Except for all the bruises he’d get from kicking himself that is.

So he does, he picks up the bag, and then as he tosses it over his shoulder he shouts 'Wait up, so what about this tuition then?’

Zayn’s grin as he reaches him, and the arm that’s thrown round his shoulder, plus the conspiratorial whisper even though its just them, shouldn’t send the thrill  it does down his spine, but it does.

'Well, it starts like this…' 

Liam  glances at his watch, thinks he’ll be lucky to make it to the match for half time and maybe just maybe he doesn’t mind.

🎁Secret Santa for Football Imagine/Fic Writers!!🎁

Hey Football Imagine/Fic Writers!!

It’s that time of the year when giving is more important that receiving but we writers also like to receive sooo, join me in the Secret Santa for Football Imagine/Fic Writers!!

Rather than exchanging physical gifts, let’s exchange imagines/fics!

Mechanics as follows:

  1. This is open for any Football Imagine/fanfic Writer or anyone with a tumblr who’d like to receive a fanfic but also write one in exchange.
  2. Interested writers identify their 3 wish list prompts (i’ll send the link for the form).
  3. Writers who joined will be electronically/randomly assigned to be the Secret Santa of another writer and write one of the prompts from the wishlist.
  4. The Imagine/Fic must be posted on an agreed time around Dec 25, by all participants; So if you’re not 100% committed to the deadline, please think carefully before joining. (It wouldn’t be fair that you receive a story and someone else didn’t D: )
  5. If you’re interested, please reblog (from original source - otherwise I might not find you) and add in the caption that you’re joining. I’ll take note. Please reblog by November 29, 2015 12:00am New York, USA aka 5am UK aka 1pm Singapore aka 4pm Australia.
  6. I’ll make a group chat for more details on November 29, 2015 8:00am New York, USA Time so all will have prompts by Dec 1.

By the way…if you don’t want to join but you’d like to help spread the word, please reblog without adding that you’ll join (see number 5 for more info).

Thank you!!

-nix || risque-football || SecretSantaFootball mod.

What made me smile this week:

Sunday: I found a new song that I’m jamming to so hard. It’s called “Good Day” by Jukebox The Ghost, and it makes me smile every time I listen to it.

Monday: Dad and I watched the Eagles on Monday Night Football tonight. They lost (rather painfully), but I have a feeling they’re going to be pretty good this season, which we can argue about below, but it made me smile.

Tuesday: We bought a new router for my house, and Erinn named the new network Wheelchairs Gone Wild. It made me smile.

Wednesday: The dress shoes that I got for the Emmys are about 800 sizes too big, but they are the first pair of dress shoes I’ve owned that don’t make me feel like my toes are being sawed off by a rusty knife. The comfort made me smile.

Thursday: I have never been inside of a Hollister clothing store, because for some stupid reason, every one of their locations has two massive steps up into their store. When you enter a store at the mall, you don’t expect there to be steps, but Hollister felt this wheelchair obstacle was a necessary part of their never-ending attempt to be “cool.”

In high school, when every cool kid on Earth owned a Hollister hoodie, I didn’t.

Well, today, I was at the mall and I noticed that the Hollister store has rebranded itself and done away with the staircase entrance. I didn’t go in, because I’m not a 14-year-old hot shot cool kid anymore, but it made me smile.

Friday: While home alone early this morning, I saw a suspicious man creeping around my back yard, inspecting the back of our house. He appeared to be searching for something, probably an easy point of entry so he could axe murder me, I thought. I contemplated how on earth I’d fend off an axe murderer and concluded that I should just accept my fate as a dead man.

He turned out to be the propane tank refill guy. It made me smile.

Saturday: We just won an Emmy! The stage where they were handing out the awards and doing the thank you speeches was not accessible, but the Emmy committee had planned ahead and arranged for our award to be given in front of the stage. They had a handheld mic so that I could do a thank you speech. It made me smile.

What made you smile this week?

it's literally hours of puppies playing together. one of them just fell into a water bowl. they slip on the linoleum  floor during the awards. they pick up toys and run with them in that awkward unbalanced puppy run. what is wrong with the person who would rather watch football than this