plays soccer

So I’m going to take my crack at some bios for these new Ken dolls.

First there’s Jayveon. His friends call him Jay. He’s a star forward on the high school basketball team and has a new girlfriend every week but there are rumors that he might be lowkey gay.

Then there’s Mark. Huge Bernie Bro. He frequents the local artisan free trade coffee shop and drinks French press while blogging on his MacBook Pro.

Next up is Carlos. His talents include playing soccer and picking up girls. He loves to say dumb things in Spanish because most girls think it’s the sexiest thing they’ve ever heard.

Then we have Justin, lifeguard at the local pool. Major tool but he does have a girlfriend named Stephanie and he likes to hang out at her dad’s Lakehouse.

Dontaveous is a real enterprising type. Wears dress shirts and ties to class and sometimes glasses even though people say he doesn’t really need them. He dates a white girl.

And finally, Chad. He’s the essence of the basic white boy. His dad’s a lawyer and his mom is a socialite. His parents frequently leave for the weekend and he throws parties at his house that are absolutely the place to be. He doesn’t hold his liquor as well as he thinks.

real talk about alicia clark in 3x05 for a second and how this arc of hers is actually a brilliant piece of storytelling like… 

if ftwd was a classic literature novel, your 11th grade english lit teacher would be lecturing on how alicia clark’s self-destructive spiral is an allegory for the millennial let down and apathy of the 21st century.

alicia clark grew up as an upper middle class millennial, in a nice suburb home, with a nice, seemingly well-rounded nuclear family. she and nick probably played little league soccer and have a box in the attic of old metallic plastic trophies.

she tuned out her world in favor of her ipod, lost herself in her studies because she was college would be the key to getting whatever she wanted out of life.

and now? all that pretty, painted ‘you can be whatever you want when you grow up! you can change the world!’ bullshit has been ripped away from her worldview and she sees the truth.

alicia clark could be a normal twenty-something going through her quarter crisis. useless college degree that put her tens of thousands of dollars in debt, dreams of saving the whales and ending world hunger crushed for the monotony of filing papers and learning microsoft excel.

english teacher’s lecture? all those zombies are corporate workers, dragging ass all day to get no where. lost in capitalism, in the draw of their cell phones. no recognition of the world around them, just consume, consume, consume…

alicia clark’s existential crisis is great television because it’s fucking relatable. all the pleasure has been sucked out her life in favor of survival. while she runs from zombies, we’ve got master’s-educated people working for minimum wage (or less). we’ve got brilliant young men and women who are always one mistake away from living on the streets or going without food this month. (or one congressman away from losing our health coverage for vital, lifesaving medications.)

it feels like it’ll never end. the struggle just brings more struggle. there’s little hope.

she tries drugs and sex and activities like cliff diving to feel something, to enjoy a moment in her miserable fucking existence. we… also do drugs and have sex and enjoy high-adrenaline activities lol, but additionally have the luxury of shit like enjoying our avocado toast and sending snapchat videos with silly dog filters and playing pokemon go for 8 hours a day, because if you can’t fucking get anywhere with the skills and degree that you worked on your whole life, at least you can smile for a moment when you finally evolve your bulbasaur.

idk, alicia clark’s existential crisis is brilliant and i’m loving it. rock on, my broken lil bean.

Come Noon

Originally posted by supernaturally-collected

Pairing: Dean x Reader
Word count: 1,044

Part 3 of Soccer Mom


–Reader’s POV–

I had been right, his wrist was broken. Thankfully, that didn’t effect him playing soccer, or I would have never heard the end of it. The entire way home I listened to them in the back of the car- from how cool the cast was, to school, to soccer, and…girls. Not something I was really looking forward to.

It took me forever to get to sleep once I crawled into bed, thinking about those green eyes, and that smile. Would he show up? What had life been like for him since way back then? I drifted off with many questions like that in my head.

–Dean’s POV–

Sam dropped the subject finally, knowing he was getting on my last nerve. Him saying the same things in different words, over and over again wasn’t helping anyone. I was nervous without his help. How old were your kids? What the hell happened to their father? What did you do for a living?

Before I knew it, it was nearing lunch time, and I was pulling into the parking lot of Burger King.

Keep reading

taesstory  asked:

8, 15 and 16!

hello bb!!!

08: Played any sports?
i played soccer when i was like 9 but i wasn’t very good at/into it lol
i like running and dancing now if those are sports

15: Have any pets?
i have two cats in canada their names are Baffy and Jasper :3 

Baffy is the white one and Jasper is the black one and I’m gonna see them so soon im so excitedsaifjhsdfgs

16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment?
I am feeling really happy and content and excited for the future!! <3

thank u :3

nytimes.com
The Girls’ Soccer Team That Joined a Boys’ League, and Won It
AEM Lleida recently conquered 13 boys’ teams in a junior regional league in Spain, where women’s soccer remains mostly a sideshow.
By Raphael Minder

“It’s really been more a problem for parents rather than their boys,” Salmerón said of comments directed at the team during matches. “It’s strange, but most of the macho comments and insults have come from the mothers of some of the boys we play.”

Straight White Boy Problem #998

me: *leaving the house to see friends*

Dad: where are you going?

Me: just hanging with Zach and Miles what’s up

Dad: oh…its…nothing…*pulls up iphone to look at his stocks*

Me: ….what’s up

Dad: I just thought…ya know we could go play some soccer…

Me: *knowing my soccer days are well behind me* yeah..I’ll try…I gotta go dad…Miles and Zach are waiting on me

*As I exit the garage, I slowly realize that my dad invested a huge amount of his ego into me as a sports dad and even though I haven’t played sports in a while, he still remembers games and talks about them, even if I don’t remember. Was I such a big part of his ego that he couldn’t disassociate himself from my success in sports? Will I become a pushy sports dad and tell my children to relish the feelings of competitive sports? Is this what my future is like?*

almost a year ago i moved back “home” to the place i grew up in. last summer i lost everything, or so i thought. i lost my home, i lost love, school, a job i loved, and people who had felt more like family to me than anyone else ever had. i was on my own. i was alone. last year i was at the lowest point in my life and in 33 days it will mark a year since the day i tried to take my own life. i thought i had nothing left. i thought there was nothing left for me. mental illness was literally ruling my life. in this past year i have struggle more than i ever had in my life, but i have learned so much about life and love. i have gained so much self confidence, self love, and appreciation for everything that i am. i have struggled, i have pulled myself up from rock bottom. little did i know that in a years time, i would be on one of the most influential teams of my life, i would have a 3.8 GPA in college and i would be receiving an offer from a school to play soccer with nearly $30k in scholarships. i would start speaking out about mental illness, and how it changed my life. i would travel, adventure, laugh, and love more than i ever had. i would become a completely new version of myself. and i would do it all on my own. i thought i lost everything. but i gained so fucking much in the process. it just goes to show you that had i taken my own life a year ago, i wouldn’t have any of this. life isnt always easy, living with a mental illness is HARD, but it is possible. may is mental health awareness month and i decided this year that i will never stop speaking out about the troubles and triumphs of mental illness. because if you’re not making someone uncomfortable you’re not doing something right. so heres to still being here. heres to everything i thought i would never have. heres to smiling and working to end the stigma around mental illness along the way.

anonymous asked:

Can i request for a bad boy serpent jughead jones and the sweet girl next door betty cooper fiction and maybe with a steamy make out session scene? Thank you!

So the story is slightly AU. Jughead never attended school in Riverdale, never was friends with Betty and Archie, as a matter of fact they didn’t even know each other. No murder ever happened, Betty was never pinning over Archie. I also made some other small changes that you’ll notice upon reading. Plus, I made Reggie a Serpent too, for no reason really, I just wanted him to be Jughead’s childhood best friend in this universe. :p Last but not least, Betty turned out to be extremely feisty while I was writing this; she is still a sweetheart in pastel colors but her character is a tad more Betty Cooper in episodes 12 &13. I hope that’s ok! Thank you for requesting, dear anon! Enjoy, lovelies! ❤️
(Okay, this is 34 pages long. I don’t even know why, I don’t even know what I have written in so many pages. I apologize in advance for that mammoth length. Warning: turns mildly smutty but definately hot and heavy at the end.)

P.S. Because this is too long, I have put it under a “read more” so if you are on mobile the story gets cut halfway through. Here’s an AO3 link if the tumblr app doesn’t work for you. :)


Fruit Punch Lips & Leather Jacket Dreams

  • Chapter 1: But Mama, I Want a Bad Boy

Southside Elementary School was a rare example of fine architecture in the small town of Riverdale. Rebuilt at the outskirts of town, after a disastrous fire caused by a minor during a prank gone wrong a couple of years ago, and squeezed between Southside Kindergarten and Southside High, it looked nothing like the two crumbling, cement colored buildings on its sides that lacked any learning motivation. It was modern, pure white with splashes of green and purple and it brought a fresh air of change, a promise that maybe the next generation of Southside kids would not have the ominous fate of their ancestors.

The Serpents had outdone themselves with the construction of the of the building, hiring Fred Andrews and his crew – one of the few people that wasn’t driven by discrimination and always agreed in doing business at the south side of town – and wasting a large amount of money from their infamous Serpent vault to create a place appropriate for shaping young minds. Maybe that’s why sweet and always optimistic Betty Cooper smiled every day at three o’clock sharp when her sneakers would hop up the marble stairs of the buzzing with life building. Because it was proving her right; Serpents would do anything for their children, just like any other parent on a prestigious office job. Serpents weren’t the monsters everyone thought they were.

Her excuse for walking all the way from their quaint north paradise to the disreputable south district five days per week was something that Betty always found fascinating; volunteering. Nurturing and caring by nature, she was constantly filling her free time with activities that offered assistance to those needed; taking care of stray cats and dogs down at the animal center, gathering food supplies and clothing for the homeless at their local church, being an annual blood donor, being proud cofounder along with her best friend, Veronica Lodge, of the two years now successful female empowerment club, Girls Speak Louder, at Riverdale High. And when senior year came and she needed a bigger challenge, something to bring her out of her good girl comfort zone, a tiny announcement had caught her eye, stuck on the bulletin board at the center of her high school corridor; Volunteers needed at Southside Elementary School.

Keep reading

Experiences I Share and Remember with Each Sign

Aries: Going to the mall just to eat in the food court, fighting monthly but making up quickly, talking on the phone for hours, Riding the subway from one end of the city to the other just for fun.

Taurus: Laughing so hard in restaurants and having the waiter overhear, buying matching friendship rings, walking in the empty mall after hours, watching a horror movie and getting paranoid on the subway home. 

Gemini: Listening to our favourite songs together. Walking them home after they got sick. Gossiping about anything and everything, missioning across the city for greek food.

Cancer: Getting breakfast before school, walking our dogs, playing soccer one on one, taking the bus late at night and walking each other home

Leo: Working the late shifts, helping them to spring clean their house, going for Saturday runs, swimming in the ocean far from the beach shore line and having to go back because I got scared.   

Virgo: Going horse back riding, singing our songs, going to the soccer stadium, practicing piano together.  

Libra: Talking all throughout class time and having to get separated, having roast wars, going to the gym to workout separately , fighting and then crying to each other after. 

Scorpio Trying fast food and getting sick after, convincing them that astrology is real, calling each other after one of us has a bad day, throwing them a surprise party. 

Sagittarius: Going to the pool just for them to swim for 5 minutes, Hitting up the cottage every summer. Going to my first concert with them. Binge watching our newest show in a weekend.

Capricorn: Walking 8 km just talking, getting coffee and catching up, having them show me their neighbourhood and the best restaurants in it. Reading tarot cards for them and vice versa. 

Aquarius: LISTENING TO MUSIC 24/7, roasting our law teacher in quiet, Having battles of who is the most stubborn, facetiming to work on projects we procrastinated until the last minute for.

Pisces: DRINKING COFFEE and staying up until 4am, sending each other new songs we discover that we liked. sitting in the park all day long, Going for walks late at night.

  • what she says: I'm fine
  • what she means: The summer between Dylan’s sophomore and junior years was low-key. There was, however, one disturbing incident, and it involved Eric Harris.
  • Dylan hadn’t played soccer since kindergarten, but he decided to join the team Eric played for that summer, and they gave him a shot although he had no experience and few skills. We were pleased to hear he was joining the team, as soccer wouldn’t strain the arm he’d injured pitching. Plus, we admired his willingness to try a sport he hadn’t played in years.
  • Dylan wasn’t a great athlete—he was strong, but lacked agility and the coordination to manage his long, gangly limbs. He did not play soccer particularly well, but he attended practice faithfully. When the team made the playoffs, Tom and I came out to watch. Dylan played poorly, and the team lost.
  • Still sweaty, Eric and Dylan came over to where we were standing with the Harrises. Before we could congratulate them on a good effort, Eric began to scream. Spittle flying from his mouth, he lashed out at Dylan, ranting about his poor performance. Chattering parents and boys from both teams fell silent and stared.
  • Eric’s parents flanked him and guided him off the field as Tom, Dylan, and I drifted slowly, in stunned humiliation, toward our own car. I couldn’t hear what the Harrises were saying to Eric, but they appeared to be trying to settle him down. Dylan walked between Tom and me, silent and impassive.
  • I was shocked by the sudden inappropriateness of the display, and by the extremity of Eric’s rage. Dylan’s utter lack of affect alarmed me too; he had to be wounded, though he revealed nothing. My heart ached for him. I wanted to hug him, but he was fifteen years old and surrounded by his team. I couldn’t embarrass him further.
  • As soon as we got inside the car, though, I said, “Man! What a jerk! I can’t believe Eric!” As Tom started the car, Dylan stared out the window with a blank expression on his face. His calm in the face of Eric’s freak-out seemed unnatural, and I hoped he’d allow himself to acknowledge anger or humiliation as we drove away, but he did not.
  • I pressed him, wishing he’d blow off steam. “Didn’t it hurt your feelings, to have him act like that? I’d be incredibly upset if a friend treated me that way.” Dylan was still looking out the window, and his expression didn’t change when he answered me. "Nah. That’s just Eric.”