playing softball

people always talk about the extreme no homo mentality in guys sports teams but don’t talk about the severe lesphobia in girls sports teams. growing up playing team sports really fucked me up as a kid. straight girls i’ve played with were always scared of being perceived as gay for being athletic and because of the stereotypes of lesbians in certain sports. this was universal in the 3 sports i played: volleyball, softball, and basketball. 

there were always strict unwritten rules about how you presented yourself while playing. for instance the ribbon in the hair for softball and a bow in your ponytail for volleyball. if you didn’t prove your femininity while playing you were a lesbian. there was so much effort in not being seen as a lesbian and proving that you /weren’t/ a lesbian was really important. 

girls would always talk shit about girls with short hair on opposing teams. “we’re playing the team with the d*ke” was something i heard often as a kid. something i still heard in high school. being a lesbian in girls sports teams is predominantly what made me feel trapped in the closet in high school. I only felt comfortable coming out after i quit sports altogether

so if we could stop acting like straight girls have less of a stake in homophobia that’d be great 

Like honestly how much of Cap3 could have been avoided if Steve and Tony recognized that their relationship is “colleagues who play in the office softball league together"

Congratulations Thor for understanding the concept of healthy boundaries

I hate the view that people have on others who self harm or have mental illnesses. When people found out I self harmed they said that I “couldn’t be telling the truth” that I “didn’t look like someone who would do that” that I was “too pretty to do that to myself” . I had lots of friends in school, played volleyball and softball there and was captain on both teams, I had a wonderful family and all the support in the world, but just because I had these things doesn’t mean I’m not the “right kind of person” to have a mental illness. EVERYONE has things that they battle. You may not be able to physically see it on the outside but EVERYONE has something. Just because I looked happy and had everything I needed, doesn’t mean I didn’t have things happen to me that your couldn’t see. You couldn’t see that I was sexually assaulted, physically and emotionally abused by my so called “best friend”, you couldn’t see that I struggled so much to keep up in school that I stayed after every day for 5 hours, just so I didn’t fail out of the classes. They couldn’t see that I starved myself for months and made myself throw up when I did eat something, thanks to the baggy clothes I wore. Pain is not always seen, struggles are not always seen. Don’t think that someone is fine because they just “look it”. 

To the lucky girl who gets to love her, be with her and win her heart over;

Please take care of her, make sure she knows how much she’s worth, she tends to take care of everyone else around her and always forget to put herself first, so take care of her.

Love her unconditionally as if there’s no tomorrow anymore, always remind her how much you love her, how lucky you are to be able to love her and be loved back by her, never let her go to sleep without letting her know you love her.

Always make her feel special, put her first before anyone or anything else, she’s the most important person in your life so don’t forget to act like it, she’s your number one priority and don’t forget that.

Give her space, let her have her own time, she loves to just be left alone sometimes, and that’s not a bad thing, let her breathe, let her think and rest, if she wants to be alone, don’t take it personally, just understand her and give her the time and space that she needs.

Always listen to her. When she tells you things, pay attention, remember everything, even the small details, especially the smallest details. Listen to what she’s telling you, show her that you understand and that you’re all ears. If she wants to rant, let her rant, if she wants to tell you a story let her tell you a story. Never interrupt her, always show that you’re interested, don’t make her feel worthless.

Don’t let her go to bed mad. No matter what you’re fighting or arguing about, or no matter who’s wrong or right, never let her go to bed mad. Talk to her. Tell her you’re sorry. Tell her you love her. Even if its not your fault act like it is, just don’t let her go to bed mad.

She hates hanging out with a big group of people that she’s not close with, so don’t force her to go to parties if she doesn’t want to. But don’t leave her either even if she says its ok for you to go, instead choose to stay with her. Watch her favourite movies with her. Watch the TV shows that she loves, even if you don’t really get why she loves them. Put on her favourite music, and lay there under the covers. Spend time with her. Hug her tight and let her know how lucky you are.

She loves animals. She probably loves them more than you and you shouldn’t be offended by that, don’t take it personally. She has 3 birds, and a rabbit (plus her mum’s 2 rabbits). If she wants to spend time with them and not you let her, they mean the world to her. Learn to love them too.

She’s got the biggest heart. A part of her salary always goes towards donations, no matter how big or small your salary is: help her, contribute.

She fights for what is right, and you should support her, never say that what she believes in is crap, respect her beliefs and respect her.

She doesn’t eat breakfast materials for breakfast. Always cook her something. She loves food. Always make sure there’s potatoes, chicken and watermelon around, she absolutely love those. No matter how much you love her though, never let her near the kitchen!

She goes to the gym and plays softball. Always go with her (unless she wants her own space). Show your support. Go to her games, watch her catch and bat and lift. Encourage her. Be there for her. But after every gym session and after every game, come up to her and ask her if she’s ok, she might say yes, but her knees are probably killing her, so make her sit, and massage it for her. Don’t let her drive. Take her home and let her rest.

After work, she’s going to be hella tired, so cook her food, put on her favourite shows or music, run a hot bath for her, and let her rest and sleep. Take care of her.

Don’t take her out on really expensive and/or loud dates, take her out to somewhere she loves, or stay in. Give her a list of options. Always prepare more than one date idea. Dates should just be about the two of you, so make sure its somewhere the two of you can just talk.

Communicate with her. Always talk to her. She hates small talks, ask her about her day, talk to her about everything, don’t keep secrets, be honest to her.

Always say good morning and good night to her. Always ask her how was her day. Ask her if she’s eaten. Ask her if she’s okay. Always tell her to drive safe. Tell her you miss her. Tell her you love her.

Take care of her please. Love her more than anyone or anything.

You’re lucky to have her. You’re lucky to be with her. She’s the type of girl anyone would be lucky to be with.

She’s kind, honest, loyal, down to earth, kind hearted, genuine, sweet (the sweetest), caring, amazing, witty, dirty minded, charming, big hearted, and she’s perfect, she’s perfect despite her past, despite her flaws, so love her.

Take care of her. Love her. She chose you.

—  (love her because i can only love her from afar.)
Five Little Words

Characters: Y/N (reader), Jensen Ackles, Natalia (OFC)

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Power outage, bad weather (no one is in danger but it sounds scary), mention of crappy ex, mention of abandonment, Jensen singing (and hell yes that is a warning!).      

Word Count: 3100ish

A/N: This is a three in one ;) I hope I won’t dissappoint anyone. A while ago I did this tumblr game thing where I let people send me a “I wish you would write a fic where…” I told a few people I would do theirs. @chaos-and-the-calm67 said this:

I wish you would write a fic where Jensen and the Reader get stuck in a room when the lights go out (place of your choosing) so they sit in the dark and get to talkin’ and when the lights come back, Jensen asks the Reader out :)

I changed it a little Bev, but I hope you still like it.

This is my entry for @buckysmetallicstump‘s Disney Quote Challenge where my prompt was “You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.” — Christopher Robin, Winnie the Pooh as well as my entry for @iwriteaboutdean 200 follower challenge where my prompt was “Kiss Me” - Sixpence None the Richer.

Song also used Return to Pooh Corner by Kenny Loggins.

Thanks to amazingly talented @blacktithe7 for betaing this one for me.

No hate towards Danneel intended. Her and Jensen are my otp. This is just fiction. Also no mention of Supernatural in this one so I guess if you prefer to see it as an AU it could be that.

The storm was raging outside. It seemed to have hit the town out of nowhere. You hated that you had to go out in this weather, but your washing machine was broken. It was your turn to wash your daughter’s softball mini league uniforms, and she needed them tomorrow. So you didn’t have a choice. You sighed as you watched the darkness outside the glass doors  that were almost quivering in the wind. You quietly folded the uniforms as you dreaded having to head home in the storm. Luckily your little girl didn’t pay much attention, she had never been to fond of lightning storms, but she seemed to slowly be growing out of her fear of them. She was too busy playing with her favourite toy, her Winnie the Pooh teddy.

Natalie made you so proud. She was a tomboy who played softball and soccer, and still she was one of the most artistic and imaginative kids in her class. She made up stories and loved drawing little pictures to go with them. She was a special little girl and the light of your life.

Keep reading

4

Mac and the team playing softball was something I never knew I needed until tonight.

MacGyver 1x20 “Hole Puncher”

ladiekatie  asked:

I see and love your american assassin/sterek au list. but consider... American Assassin!Stiles and Everybody Wants Some!Derek. Stiles the super high tense military man, who has worked his whole life in the field and doesn't know what a real home is and Derek the super chill frat boy that never really grew out of it plays softball with his coworkers but takes it way too seriously. They meet while Stiles has an unusual break and decides to go home to see his parents graves. and Stiles is (1/?)

Stiles is walking through town seeing how little it’s changed since the last time that he was here, probably like 5 years before. And Somehow he runs into Derek and maybe they were friends in kindergarten before Stiles was shipped off to who knows where after his parents died. And their such juxtapositions that they hate each other? like Stiles was so fun loving and happy as a kid and now he has a murder-y vibe about him, and derek had so much potential to be a professional ball player (2/?)

but he blew his knee in college and his career is over. so now he just bums around, he’s got a part time job a few places, but he isn’t very good at one thing or another. They fucking hate each other. and somehow, they keep bumping into each other. and some-fucking-how they are at the same restaurant at the same table together, and they’re both nervous because this is not a date, nope. IT’S NOT A DATE OKAY?!?! but Derek manages to make Stiles crack a smile, and maybe seeing Stiles so taken (3/?)

care of by his job makes Derek want something more from his life of living paycheck to paycheck. Soooo, Derek starts feeling Stiles out, asking for career advise and maybe taking the jobs he has now more seriously? while Stiles hasn’t felt so light talking to someone in years, and he keeps trying to find ways to talk to Derek because he makes him feel /happy/. And then SOMEHOW they end up on a real date. and that date goes all the way to Derek’s apartment. *Wiggles eyebrows* (4/?)

Stiles break gets extended, and they spend more and more time together. Stiles realizes he’s falling for Derek a little bit? and Derek realizes that despite his broody demeanor, he can really see him and stiles being something long term. And Stiles is called into go to work, and he takes off without really telling Derek. Derek doesn’t know what he does, he wouldn’t understand, and Stiles really has to get away from him because he can’t fall in love. He isn’t enough for anyone, especially (5/?)

Derek. So he leaves… and he tries not to look back, but he dreams about Derek at night. Both sexy and not sexy dreams. He even dreams about them having a fucking house together with dog and a little girl. like. fuck he’s in deep. and it affects his mission. when he finishes, his bosses are like “this isn’t you stilinski” and he’s like “no, not anymore. I’m out.” and after some yelling and threats to and from stiles, he leaves. He goes home and tries to find Derek but he can’t find him. (6/?)

He goes around to all the shops he works at and they all tell him he skipped town a few days ago. after getting his number, he tries to call, but derek won’t answer and stiles starts to worry that someone found out who he was to stiles and kidnapped him. So Stiles uses his army/assassin contacts to find him. He’s in San Diego. so Stiles goes to san diego and is tracking derek onto UCSD campus and bursts into a lecture hall to find… derek… in class??? (7/?)

Derek is super embarrassed and sends Stiles to his apartment with promise they’ll talk after class. So Stiles goes, and when Derek comes back they talk. Turns out Stiles leaving lit a fire under derek’s but to be better. because he thought Stiles left becuase he was such a deadbeat. and then Derek asks “Why did you bust into my lecture hall with a gun?” and that’s when Stiles tells derek what he does… did. love confessions ensue. happily ever after ensues after that. (8/?)

Once Derek graduates, and once Stiles finds a job he can do (ptsd makes it hard to find a job) they buy a house, get a dog. a few years later, Derek is teaching at BHHS, and is the baseball coach. He takes himself more seriously than he ever has. they adopt a little girl. Stiles hasn’t touched a gun in years, and he can sit in a room without being on high alert. He can relax. EVERYTHING IS SUNSHINE AND RAINBOWS. (9/9)

KATIE I WOULD READ 100K OF THIS JFC.

ALL THE STEREK AUS. I love it. I was reading them as each message came in just like… YES WHAT’S NEXT.

Originally posted by maruminn

Day 7: Soulmate!AU

Alex had always been an active kid. She went camping with her parents, played softball and surfed. It was never odd to find a new bruise or a cut that she couldn’t place the origin of, she tended to collect them and move about her way.

The first time she really noticed anything out of the ordinary was at practice on a Tuesday not long before Kara joined their family. It felt like she’d been sucker punched in the stomach, knocking the air right out of her. She fell to her knees where she stood, alone in the middle of left field. A mandated trip to the doctor left her with more questions than answers and a nasty bruise shaping up under her ribs.

And the whispers.

Soulmate.

Rare, her parents said, but not impossible.

She tried to pay more attention after that, she really did, but between her own activities and the recently acquired alien with super strength, it was hard to tell where her own bruises began and ended. But the ghost of fingerprints squeezed into her arms were too large to match Kara’s hands, and Alex was called into the counselor’s office to discuss it.

She wore longsleeves after that.

Her parents were concerned for their child’s soulmate, of course, but there was little they could do. Alex couldn’t exactly go knocking on the door of every child being watched by social services to demand to compare bruises.

After a while it stopped. The only bruises Alex had were her own, and it came as a relief to her that he was safe, even if she felt a little bit lonely for the loss of connection. But if loneliness were the price to pay not wake with fresh bruises and nightmares of how they came to be, or concussions developed after a nap, she would take it in a heartbeat.

Then her dad died, and Alex had bigger problems, like helping Kara adjust to losing someone else, keeping her grades up, and trying to pull her mother away from work. Alex fell into a routine over the summer that amounted to placing one foot in front of the other, just getting through the day until school started back up in the fall.

She didn’t miss the new girl or the rumors that surrounded her. Midvale was a small town full of small minds that liked to pretend they were open just by virtue of being Californians. The way Kara’s quirks were treated was proof enough of that. Sawyer lived with her aunt because her parents kicked her out. Sawyer was trouble. Sawyer was gay.

Alex didn’t know what, if any, of that was true. It wasn’t her business. But she did her best to shut it down when she could, and kept an eye out for trouble.

Kara was an easy target for bullies. She couldn’t stand up for herself without exposure, so it was a habit for Alex to step in.

Maggie Sawyer was an asshole who didn’t know how to walk away from a fight. Alex did her best to divert teachers’ attention so that Sawyer didn’t spend every afternoon in detention, but some people were just trouble. The pretty junior squared up with every asshole to spit out an insult, and it was getting harder to keep Kara from intervening.

Because “it’s not fair, Alex, they shouldn’t be picking on her.”

Honestly she felt a little stupid not to have noticed it sooner. The bruises reappearing, the aches and pains of fights she’d never participated in.

The way her heart fluttered a little when Maggie smiled at her.

Why Alex suddenly took the long way to Calculus so she could pass by Maggie’s locker.

How she grinned into her lunch when she heard Sawyer sassing the popular kids.

Still, the thought had never occurred to her.

That she might be gay.

Until she turned a corner to catch sight of Maggie slipping between Kara and one of the brickheads from the football team. Until she felt the crunch of breaking bones in her hand, a good twenty feet back from any danger.

Maggie shook out her hand and kept her eyes on the guy holding his nose. Kara was the one to run to Alex, having heard her whimper. Kara was the one stretching out Alex’s hand and poking gently at the bones.

Maggie didn’t turn to see them until the guy had gone, run off to the nurse. “You alright, Danvers?”

“No, Sawyer, I’m not. Seem’s I’ve got a dumbass for a soulmate who doesn’t know how to throw a punch.”

Maggie frowned, glancing between her own rapidly bruising hand and Alex’s. “Soulmate?”

“I’m not ambidextrous, Sawyer, if this is going to be a regular thing you need to take some classes.”

“I have a soulmate?” Maggie’s voice cracked.

And Alex remembered the bruises and the cuts. The burns. Waking in the middle of the night terrified and not knowing why her body felt like it had been through a meat grinder.

Hell or high water, Maggie Sawyer was hers now.

“Yeah, Sawyer. You have a soulmate. Now let’s go get some painkillers and use that little fact as a distraction so you don’t get expelled before we can get to know each other, okay?”

mrriggerworld  asked:

Imagine Maggie as a softball coach, teaching kids how to throw, how to catch, pushing them to improve their skills, taking the team out for pizza after games, making sure that they remember winning's great, but not the most important thing, listening to problems when necessary, and basically being the coach you still talk about after you've grown up. All the kids insist on vetting Alex after she shows up at one of their practices, because they have to make sure she's awesome enough for Maggie.

It’s not like she’s swimming in free time, but she can’t resist the kids.

The kids with the big eyes and uncoordinated runs, who want to play softball but don’t want to be separated along gender lines from their friends; who don’t want to be chewed out by people three times their age for missing a catch; who want to be part of something, but don’t want to go through the ritualistic humiliation that is most organized sports to get it.

So every Saturday, without fail, her work phone is off. Her captain knows; her captain approves.

I think he might be… you know… in your community, he tells her out of the side of his mouth one day about his nine year old son, and she immediately takes the boy onto the team.

Every Saturday, she pulls her ponytail through the back of a beat up Brooklyn Dodgers cap, and trades in her boots for cleats, and slings two bags more than half her height over her back, full of bats and balls and mitts and caps and water bottles and other assorted treats for the horde of nine year olds who stream onto the field she’s reserved just for them in varying states of readiness, varying states of dress (sometimes in skirts, sometimes in older sibling’s baseball jerseys, once – memorably – in a rabbit onesie because it’s Purim, okay, and who says rabbits can’t play softball?), varying states of excitement to get away from their parents, their homes, their schools, for a few solid hours under the California sun.

The only thing she doesn’t accept on the field is giving up; but she does accept anxiety and she does accept tears, because whoever said there’s no crying in baseball clearly has never played softball with a band of misfit kids who spend so much of their time trying to be perfect that sometimes it takes a while for them to realize that on this field, with these kids, with this coach, they can revel in their uniqueness, in their imperfections.

She has a system worked out for their little bodies slipping into existential crises: the swing set nearby. She holds the crying kid, whoever it may be at the time, and she rocks them, and she wipes their tears and she gives them a bottle of water and some animal crackers, and she sends them with two friends – always two friends – off to the swing set for a few minutes, so they can swing the sad away.

She keeps on eye on the ball and the other on them, and they always sprint back with smiles and giggles, ready to keep going, ready to learn more, ready to be more.

So she teaches them to throw and she teaches them to hit; she teaches them to move their hips right along with the rest of their bodies, and most importantly, she teaches them to let go. To let go of what everyone’s ever told them about perfection, about winning, about success, about their self-worth. Because each of them are stardust, and doesn’t that sound cooler than defining themselves by winners and losers.

They run drills and they support each other when the ball trickles through someone’s feet and they eagerly shout me me me me me! when Maggie stands at home plate with a bat in one hand and a ball in the other, knees bent and ready to aim a hit at each of them in turn.

They play against the other local teams, and even though they don’t always win, they always shock the smug-looking parents and coaches of the other teams, and they always win over some new friends – with the more expensive uniforms and pressure to win constantly on their backs – because they always look like they’re having more fun, like they’re feeling more confident, than anyone else to ever step onto the field.

And the first time Alex Danvers steps onto the field, Maggie’s spare cap backwards on her head and a red bandana sticking out of her back pocket and a nervous but thrilled grin on her face, they decide that they need to interrogate this pretty new lady holding Maggie’s hand and helping her carry her bags.

Because Maggie’s never held another girl’s hand before in front of them before, and she’s certainly never let anyone carry her bags for her before.

“Everyone, this is my girlfriend, Alex. Alex, this is the squad.”

They all form a line, squinting up at her and trying their best to look intimidating, and Alex is forcibly reminded of that Sandlot movie Kara made her watch over and over when they were kids.

She glances at Maggie, who’s regarding them gravely, and she follows her girlfriend’s lead, biting down her amusement and contorting her face into seriousness as she squats down on her haunches to be more on their eye level.

“You all seem like you have something to say to me,” she says, doing her best to not address them like they’re nine, but rather, like they’re a threat to her physical safety.

A girl with Bantu knots and a serious set to her jaw steps forward and gestures at Alex with her red glove.

“Coach Maggie told us she was bringing someone special to meet us. Coach never brings anyone special to meet us.”

“Yeah, even though we’re pretty sure you’re not the first girl she’s dated. She’s pretty pretty!”

“Shhh Andy, let Chase talk, we all agreed!”

Maggie closes her eyes to keep from doubling over with laughter and Alex reminds herself that she can beat a polygraph test.

“So we just want to make sure you’re really special enough for her.”

“Because Coach Maggie’s the best!”

“She brings us for pizza after every game!”

“Even when we lose!”

“And she told off Janelle’s parents when they tried to tell her she couldn’t wear a tie or shop in the boy’s section!”

“Yeah, and look how fabulous I look now!”

“And she – ”

“Order on the field!”

Alex’s eyes open wide and wonders if in a decade or so, Chase would be interested in a job at the DEO.

“So,” Chase continues happily when silence falls immediately. “Tell us why you’re special enough for her. What are your intentions with the best coach ever to coach?”

Maggie bites her lip and stares down at Alex for a moment before squatting next to her.

“Guys, you’re like the inquisition, Alex doesn’t have to – ”

“No, no, Maggie, it’s fine. I love how much they love you.”

She looks squarely at Chase, then at each of the children in turn as she takes a deep breath and speaks.

“And you’re right: Maggie only deserves the most special things and the most special people. Because – and you guys all already know this – she is so, so special. And she’s special to me. The most special. I ask myself the same question every day, you know: am I special enough for her? And honestly? I don’t know. I don’t know if anyone can ever be special enough for Maggie Sawyer. Except maybe you guys, but that’s different. And as for my intentions?”

She turns to look at Maggie and puts a hand on her knee, and Maggie immediately puts her hand on hers to steady herself, because her heart is in her throat and her eyes are watering at Alex’s words.

“My intentions with the best coach ever to coach – the best girlfriend ever to girlfriend – are to try, ever day, to be special enough for her. To care for her – to love her – better than she’s ever been loved. Every day, every night, and every moment in between.

“Ally.” Maggie’s whisper is barely a breath, and it’s almost lost in the whisper-shouting conferring of intensely defensive nine year olds.

After a few long moments of staring into each other’s eyes, a few long moments during which the softball team confers with each other in the consensus-driven style Maggie taught them, Chase nods and clears her throat for Alex’s attention.

“Dr. Danvers, would you like to play ball with us today? We’re going to learn how to slide into second base, and we think it’d be great if you learned with us.”

Maggie beams and kisses Alex’s hand as Alex shakes Chase’s with her other one.

“It would be my distinct honor.”

9 years ago I tried to kill myself. I was in and out of hospitals and treatment centers from then on. I was self destructive, I lost people I loved, and I did whatever I had to do to cope with my misery. I dated a guy who forced himself on me and who abused me whenever I did something he didn’t like. I went away to college to try to start over and realized I couldn’t get out of bed to go to class. I tried to transfer back home but I stopped eating and wound up back in treatment. I dropped out of college and couldn’t work much more than a part time job. I struggled daily to get out of bed. I hated myself. I stopped sleeping, self harmed frequently, I was a mess. I thought I would never get better, and I never expected it to make it to my 21st birthday. But now I’m in a healthy, beautiful relationship with the girl of my dreams. I go to school full time, play college softball, work part time. I’m applying for nursing school while training to be a lifeguard. I have some money saved for when I’m ready to move out with my girlfriend. I never made any plans for a future, because I was positive I wouldn’t have one. Luckily, I am in an amazing place in my life. I should have never made it this far, but I am so thankful for all the reasons that I am. For anyone who thinks they can’t go on any longer, for anyone who swears there’s no way it’ll get better, it does. Please wait, you deserve to be alive to see it.

Twin

Originally posted by jugheadjones94

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Word Count: 1661

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, the usual…

Anon Requested

A/N: I’ve been listening to a lot of Twenty Pilots lately… Don’t know why that was important but… Anyway, I hope y'all like this one! I will really try to post a lot more. Love you guys!


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To be blunt, having a twin sucked ass. Well, with your experience it did. At least you were the older one, which had to count for something. Ok so there was a two minute difference between the two of you, but you used the leverage when you could. 

 Reggie was always a little asshole, even when the both of you were kids. He always stole your toys out of your hands claiming they were his. And he was the perfect golden boy in your parents eyes. His arrogance only sky rocketed with their parental encouragements. 

He was always very popular in school. Had the coolest friends, was part of all the sports teams, and when he came of age, dated the prettiest girls. You on the other hand were always different. 

You preferred reading and staying indoors rather than playing with everyone else. Of course your parents still forced you to try out for sports, (you soon enough became partial towards softball.) 

 Your stupid brother and his rather loud reputation never meant well for you. Everyone knew he had twin, but never bothered to really get to know you, always assuming you were like your brother. 

Nonetheless, writing was your specialty. You always had a way with words. You knew from an early age you wanted to major in some sort of English profession, whether it be teaching it or writing it. In fact, that’s how you ended up meeting your current boyfriend Jughead Jones. 

At first he was skeptical of you, but once the both of you clicked, it was one of the best things to happen to both of you. Thinking back on the whole start of it all always brought a smile to your face. 

“Ok girls, I’ll see you guys next practice.” You had hollered over to your teammates before swinging your backpack over your shoulder as they all shouted their own farewells. You left the school grounds and decided to go to Pop’s. One, because their food was amazing and two, you were hoping you could get some work done in the usually peaceful setting. 

 You made the effort to walk over there even though your sore limbs protested greatly. Once you got in to the beloved Diner, you went up to the counter and ordered your usual before going to find a seat. 

 As you walked through the small building, your eyes locked with stormy blue ones for a few short seconds. And in that short amount of time you were intrigued. He watched you with a weary stance, as if he were mapping out your every move before you executed it. 

You’d seen him before. Jughead Jones, he was in your English class. But you never talked, just silently drifted off into the lesson given that day. With a split second thought you decided to approach him as you waited for your food. 

“Hi.” You said hesitantly, immediately beating yourself up on the inside for making a fool out of your self for coming over. Hi? Really, that’s all you could come up with? You reprimanded as you stayed silent and watched him. 

 Of course all that had happened in a moments thought and he actually replied quickly. “Hi.” He said with an unsure look. You looked around and noticed he had a laptop out that he was typing in, taking up your interest you decided to try and make conversation out of it. “What are you doing?” You asked as you nodded over at his device. 

He looked to see what you were referring with a quickly glance and replied with a short worded answer. “Writing.” You grinned, you had a passion for the subject. Deciding to trust your gut, you sit yourself in front of him and smile brightly. “What are you writing about?” You asked. He still looked unsure of you, although, these types of looks weren’t unusual when you met new people. Mostly because Reggie and his erratic behavior met them first. 

 "Why do you want to know?“ He asked with an eyebrow raised. “Oh, I love writing. I hope to have a career to do with the subject one day.” You answered as you messed with your fingers over the table. 

 "Hm.“ He said in thought. “What?” You asked. He shrugged. “I don’t know, I guess I just figured that the twin sister of the oh so famous Reggie Mantle would be more.. well, Reggie-like.” “Well, I play softball if that’s what you mean. But otherwise I’ve always been the more soft spoken one I guess. My brother is just a real pain in my ass all the time.” You huffed as you crossed your arms. 

 "Interesting.“ He looked at you for a few seconds, considering whether he could trust you. He smiled when he saw the genuine curiosity in your eyes. "Well if you must know, I’m writing a novel.” “That’s awesome! About what?” You asked. “Riverdale.” “Well that was descriptive.” You retorted as he cracked a grin. 

 Your food finally came out at that time, your fries looked exceptionally delicious. “Wanna share?” To which he grinned. 

 That encounter alone sparked on many more encounters after that. After meeting up 5 more times after that first one, he asked you out. You obviously hid it from your brother, neither of you could even imagine the torment that would come. 

 The both of you had been together for a little over 6 months now. A whole summer had passed and the two of you were still going strong. When sophomore year started, softball started again too. 

 He always went to your games and was the cute supportive boyfriend. Whenever you made a home run he was always right there for you. And it wasn’t like your brother ever went to your games so you never had to worry. 

When you had started dating Jughead, his three other friends adopted you in their group and they were all for your secret relationship, never bringing it up when Reggie was around. Archie came close a couple times to spilling the beans but Betty and Veronica usually kept him in check. 

 It was a particularly sunny day when another softball game had taken place. It was the final game of the season, which meant your parents were obligated to come too. However, this meant they were forcing Reggie to be “supportive” of his sister. Of course Jughead had come to watch. 

You were the best pitcher on the team so that was the position assigned on the field for you. Before you ran out with your teammates, you gave Jughead a quick kiss, promising to see him afterwards. You didn’t realize your brother had come to your game until your eyes had met when you made it to the pitchers mound. 

He smirked but applauded with everyone else, cheering you on. The first batter on the other team made it to the plate and hit the bat against the ground a couple of times before getting into position. You smirked and readied your arm before pitching. 

 The game lasted a couple of hours, your team winning by a home run (that you had made). Your entire team was hollering as was the crowd. Your parents told you they were proud of you and that’s when you noticed Reggie was missing. 

 "Hey, where Reg?“ You asked your parents. Your mom wasn’t paying attention to you as she typed away on her phone. "He went to talk to someone I think.” Your dad said before leading his wife away to the car. 

 You shrugged before going to find your boyfriend. When you found him, you realized he wasn’t alone, Reggie was with him. “Oh god.” You muttered under your breath as you approached them. 

“Oh, hey sis. Good job on your game.” He said before continuing his malicious staring at Jughead. “Reggie, what are you doing?” You asked. He turned to you again. “Just finding my answers from this little freak here.” He turned back to Jughead who only looked at him with a pissed stare. 

 "So, are you gonna answer my question? It was you who killed Blossom huh?“ "I didn’t.” Jug spat. “What’s it to you anyway Reggie? Just leave him alone.” You said as your eyes met Jughead’s a couple times. “Because my coach has been non-stop breathing down my neck thinking it was me! I figured I can try to catch the person who did it so he’d leave me alone. And I bet it was him.” Reggie stayed as he looked at Jughead.

 "Reggie stop. Leave Jughead alone, he didn’t do anything.“ You said as you tried to shove Reggie away from him. "Oh, so you’re friends and with the little freak. Wouldn’t put it past you, you’ve always been weird. You know, I wonder if it was you that killed him.” He said. Your jaw dropped. 

“What the hell Reggie. Are you really accusing me of murder!? Murder Reggie, that’s insane. And besides, you know I was at an early softball practice on July 4th. And Jughead and I met up right after to hang out so why don’t you take your stupid accusations somewhere else.” You snapped at your brother. 

 "Why are you protecting him? This little geek is just a stupid nobody that nobody likes.“ He growled. "I like him! Reggie, he’s sweet, and funny, and caring… and all the things you aren’t!” He stopped and stared at you analyzing your words carefully. 

 "Wait… are you two… oh no way.“ His eyes widened as he looked back and forth between the two of you. "Back off Reggie.” You spat as he his shoulders slumped and he walked off giving you one last glare before disappearing around the corner. 

 You grinned as you looked over to Jughead who was in shock. “Well, so much for not telling him.” He commented with a sly smirk before wrapping you in his arms and congratulating you on your win.


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ID #82056

Name: Ani
Age: 14
Country: United States

Hi! I don’t really know where to start but I’ll try my best here. My name is Ani. I play softball, volleyball, and do dance. I consider myself a musician. I sing and play a couple instruments. I spend a lot of my time listening to music, playing video games, or studying. I like bands like Panic! At The Disco, Fall Out Boy, Eden, Pierce The Veil, and Twenty One Pilots. I really don’t know what else to say. Peace out mates.

Preferences: 18 and under