room coach

I Heard That

Imagine: You are always quiet in math, a class you happen to share with Peter Parker. Once you finally muster the courage to speak up, Peter finds a type of excuse so he can spend more time with you.

Word Count: 1100??? maybe

A/N: This is shitty and rushed but I have an assignment due on Monday that I haven’t really started sooO soz

Your fingers cramped as you attempted to write the answer before the timer at the front of the class went off. Several groans could be heard around the room as the renown alarm bounced off the walls of the quiet room. You rubbed your tired eyes beneath your glasses in hope that it would somehow get rid of the slight sleepiness that began to claw at them. Nevertheless, you began gliding your pen over your answers with concentration in attempt to find any mistakes.

“Alright then,” Coach Johnson, your Maths teacher spoke enthusiastically, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Who’s up first?”

The room remained silent as heads lowered to look down towards their work. Coach’s voice was louder this time, sounding slightly more impatient, “Any volunteers? No? Alright then. You’re up, Parker.”

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  • Thalia: *looking for Artemis in a crowded room*
  • Thalia: I got this
  • Thalia: *makes hands into a megaphone shape* *tries to sound like a guy* DAMN THEM HUNTERS BE LOOKIN FINE
  • Thalia: There she is

“I’m just sitting here, talking about armadillos, and you disrespect me in this way!”

- Jeremy Heere, to Michael Mell

Two Beers and the Truth

An extremely late birthday fic for @wrathofthestag, who shares my hopes for Coach and Bitty. Here’s a little fic about how I hope the summer goes for the Bittle Clan…

         Bitty knew that coming out to coach would end one of three ways.

         The first scenario was the one that had kept him silent since middle school when he realized that it didn’t matter how many girls stole kisses from him, he just wasn’t interested. He could see Coach’s face turning to stone, the way it did when the Dawgs lost a game in overtime, and hear his father’s steely voice proclaiming I have no son. Some nights he would still wake up shaking when he thought about that scenario, if he was lucky, Jack would be there to gather him up and mutter soothing bits of nonsense into his hair as he trembled.

         The second scenario was more likely, but still not something Bitty was looking forward to. Coach would press his lips together until they disappeared behind his mustache, then nod with a resigned air. If he was lucky, Bitty would get an awkward slap on the back and Coach would mutter something Suzanne told him Oprah said to say. It would be disappointment, but acceptance. Some days Bitty wondered if that wouldn’t be worse than outright anger.

         The third scenario Bitty blamed on Chowder, who seemed to think everyone in the world would be thrilled with a gay son. In this dream setup, Coach cried, opening his arms to his son and assuring Bitty that he could never be prouder of a child. They would cry together, then, hugged up on the porch swing, talking about life and maybe boys.

         Bitty bit his lip, wondering which scenario he would be living through. He rolled his shoulder, preparing for a disappointed pat. He glanced at his mother in the kitchen.

         With a sigh, Suzanne moved to the refrigerator, picking out two beers and holding them out to Bitty. She kissed his forehead. “Go on, I’ll be doing dishes if you need me.”

         Bitty nodded and looked toward the porch again.

         “I can do this,” he muttered. “For me. For Jack.”

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  • Wymack [about Neil]: I've only had this stupid kid for a day and a half
  • Wymack: But if anything happened to him I would kill everyone in this room and then myself
The Mistake (Part 2) - Stiles Stilinski

Author: @were-cheetah-stiles

Title: “The One With The Rehearsal Dinner

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Lydia Martin, Jordan Parrish, Scott McCall, Allison Argent, Noah Stilinski, Liam Dunbar, Mason Hewitt, Corey Bryant & Reader

Author’s Note: My birthday present to my Posey, @fillthevoid-stilinski. I love you lots and lots and lots. Enjoy twenty, Em. You have the world at your capable fingers, and I can’t wait to see what you wow us all with. Go wish her a happy birthday please.

Additional Note: this series would not exist without the brilliance that is Between Us. please please please go read it.

Summary: Stiles runs into Lydia for the first time in years and begins perpetrating a lie that Y/n gets roped into.

Prologue - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Epilogue

You sipped your gingerale out of the thin black straw, wishing it was spiked with something more and longingly staring at the trays full of champagne flutes roaming around the floor, but you remained sipping on your fully dry soda. You were having trouble trusting yourself with alcohol after what had happened Tuesday night. You stood against a back wall, by the picture table, barely listening to Coach Finstock drone on and on about how he always thought of Scott as a son. You forced a smile, and nodded, until you made eye contact with Stiles from across the room.

Shit, uh, sorry, Coach. Excuse me, for a minute?” You fled before hearing Finstock’s reply, and dipped into the hallway bordering the actual restaurant and the private room, hoping he hadn’t seen you.

You’re avoiding me.” You rolled your eyes at the world; you didn’t know why you bothered hoping for things.

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distractions » jjk » m

» request: plus size reader w jungkook ?? maybe kookie is a basketball player and the reader is a cheerleader? also: smutttt, thanks !!!

» genre: smut

» author’s note: i love plus size reader fics tbhhhh. i need more of them. also this felt so long to write but it’s not even that long :/// and i might make a plus size reader series if you all like this enough, so be sure to let me know! i love you honeybuns~~

» word count: 3.6k+

» warnings: plus size reader, basketball au, body worship, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex, etc.

[nsfw under the cut]

A discontented groan sounds from the back of your throat as you pull your uniform on, a frown gracing your features as you realize the skirt is too small. The length is almost an inch too short, leaving your ass free to see. You swear under your breath, striding to the front of the locker room where your coach stands, chatting with the cheerleading captain.

“Coach, do we have another size up in the bottoms?” You ask, frowning as her eyes travel to your exposed rear end. She shakes her head with a scowl on her face, “Wear your safety shorts, Y/L/N.” She instructs, waving you off and turning back to the captain. You sulk back to your locker and look through for your safety shorts, sliding them on. Even your safety shorts have grown a bit too small, the very bottom of your asscheeks peaking out from the bottom of the thin white cloth. 

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Summary: He always knew Dicky was different. Not bad different, just not like the rest of the boys in the neighborhood. A glimpse into the relationship of Coach and Bitty, and how Coach comes to terms with it all.  Also on AO3

Originally posted by harrimaniac27

“So, Dicky. Do you want to watch a movie?”

Coach was happy to have Dicky at home. His visits had become far and few between, a rare thing, ever since… well, recently. Suzanne was out with her bowling league, so it was just the two of them for the evening.

“Sure, Coach. What do you wanna see? I think Predator is about to start,” Bitty replied as he grabbed a bag of Brother Kane potato chips from the kitchen and settled into the couch.

He then took the remote and was browsing through the channel guide.

“Also Rocky III is on, uh… Casino. What else…”

Coach watched his son and smiled listening to the movie choices being offered to him.

He always knew Dicky was different.

Not bad different, just not like the rest of the boys in the neighborhood. When he was younger and the other coaches had their boys in pee wee leagues (already drilling the eye on the prize mentality into their heads: “One day you’ll be the star quarterback, son!”) he would look at Dicky and sigh knowing that wouldn’t be his son’s fate.

And he made peace with it, for Dicky was always kind, always helpful, always wore a smile on his face and a smudge of flour on his cheek.

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tchrgleek  asked:

Jack gets hurt in an away game. Since he isn't out, Bitty can't get any information.

He’s in Madison, sitting cross-legged on his bed, clutching Senor Bun. Mama’s volunteering at the church tonight, Coach is downstairs watching tv. Bob and Alicia are in Italy for some retreat, and he couldn’t call if he wanted to. He very much wants to.

Jack is 2000 miles away, and he might be dying.

He’s called the hospital twelve times. He tries different departments, lies to a half dozen nurses and tells the other six people the truth. Jack Zimmermann is his ‘friend’, and he just wants to know if he’s okay. Please. 

Every single one apologizes and hangs up.

TMZ says ‘critical’. 

ESPN says ‘stable’.

HuffPo says ‘questionable’.

When the silence gets to be too much, he tears the throw off the foot of the bed and makes his way down to the living room, wrapped up like a burrito, trying not to think about the fact that he may not have a significant other by the time the night is over.

“Junior, you alright?”

Bitty throws himself onto the couch and stares blankly at the tv, following the ticker tape on the bottom of the screen quickly eating the end of Jack’s name.

“Jack’s hurt,” he says, and Coach makes a sympathetic noise.

“I saw, they’ve been replaying that hit all night. You heard anything from his family? He doing alright?”

“His parents are in Rome, and they won’t tell me anything.”

“Really? That doesn’t seem like them.”

“No, the hospital.”

Coach shifts in his chair. “You called the hospital.”

“I just want to know if he’s gonna die. Is that too much to ask? They just think I’m another reporter not his boyfr-”

Bitty catches himself, just barely, but he knows it’s enough, and he pulls the blanket over his head. He can hear the reporter start to recount the scene from the Falcs v Kings game when the room goes silent. Coach has turned off the tv, and Bitty startles badly when a soft hand touches his shoulder.

“C’mon, Son, if you have to be stuck here waiting on bad news, I’ve got some of Uncle Greg’s hooch stashed away.”

At least there won’t be two tragedies tonight.

Check Please Characters As My High School Career
  • Bitty: baked historically accurate Roman bread for SOMEONE ELSE'S project in exchange for participation in my project
  • Jack: only skipped one day of school in all 4 years, and that was to study for the APUSH exam
  • Holster: got pissed at how shitty all the plays we were trying for spring drama were, wrote my own and bullied the director into producing it
  • Ransom: took Advanced Chem and Advanced Physics and precal at the same time for some reason
  • Shitty: got into a fight every day in senior ethics
  • Lardo: drew an elaborate and ongoing comic series where my bible as literature teacher battled a kid in the class
  • Nursey: convinced a teacher to let me do an independent study of writing a novel; never finished it to this day but I got a 100%
  • Dex: was more prepared than the school nurse, to the point where people would just come to me for advil and bandaids
  • Chowder: I actually had school spirit
  • Whiskey: pretended not to be in the room when my coach tried to make me do tree identification for science olympiad
  • Tango: asked my world history teacher questions that I knew would prompt him to tell us stories instead of teaching
  • Ford: gave up on telling the theater boys to stop trying to pick each other up and just started filming
Remodeling Columbine after the massacre

This photo shows the athletics department office of Columbine getting repaired. You can see a bullethole still scarring the right side of the window frame.

Before and after the blood-soaked carpet of the stairs was ripped up to replace the whole floor with tile. 

Before and after, Columbine High’s upstairs hallway with the floor removed for re-tiling.

The science room where Coach Sanders died was completely gutted and remodeled.

The remodelling of the cafeteria with a new 2-story atrium that houses the cafeteria. The old library was removed to make way for the atrium. The ceiling is a mural of the Colorado forest canopy of aspens and evergreens, painted by North Carolina artist Virginia Wright-Frierson. The mural is actually 20 different paintings, consisting of four large central canvasses and 16 other paintings that float on “clouds” suspended from the ceiling. The Atrium was designed by architect J.D. Nelson of Davis Partnership and built by an outstanding team of contractors led by Turner Construction. The Art Conservation Center at the University of Denver installed the mural.

anonymous asked:

Can you do pastel!dan x punk!phil and they're in high school and phil is captin of the football team and like he rims dan after winning a game and dan wears skirts and panties this is long, okay please i need this thanksss

this is gonna be fun

contains: pastel!dan in a skirt wowee, punk!jock!phil, rimming, dirty talk, and imma throw in some daddy kink for fun

✨Dan began to sweat nervously as he saw the current score. The game was tied with about a minute left in the play. He watched his boyfriend, the star quarterback Phil Lester, run quickly with the football in his hands.

✨Dan always loved watching his lovely boyfriend in action. The way he ran so fast, yet so gracefully, the way he could avoid any tackle with ease, it was all so amazing to Dan.

✨Phil was focused on winning this game. He expertly dodged opposing players, sprinting with all his might to the 10 yard mark.

✨Time froze. Phil could hear feel his heartbeat in his ears. Suddenly all he heard was one voice. “You can do it, baby!” Dan called from the stands. Phil smirked. He had to win.

✨The whistle blew, signaling that the game had ended, Phil scoring the winning point. The crowd exploded, cheers and screams of victory flooding Phil’s ears. He smiled, looking around the stands to see his boyfriend clapping and smiling wide.

✨Good game, Lester.“ The coach smiled as he patted Phil’s back. He always took the longest and was the last to leave the locker rooms. "Thanks coach.” Phil beamed as he put his jewellery back in their places on either side of his bottom lip.

✨The coach shook his head. “Lose the piercings; you look like an emo girl.” Phil laughed as the coach made his exit, almost bumping into Dan. “Ah, Howell, your boyfriend is over there, putting his makeup on.” The coach teased, looking back at Phil and winking.

✨Dan ran over, squealing as he hugged his boyfriend. “I’m so proud of you, baby!” Dan gushed, kissing Phil’s cheek. Phil chuckled, placing his septum ring in place and screwing on the ball. “I couldn’t have done it without you, baby.” Phil sighed, kissing Dan’s neck. “The whole crowd was cheering me on, but I swear, I only heard you, baby.” He moved his kisses down to Dan’s sensitive neck, making him gasp.

✨"How can I ever thank you for your encouragement?“ Phil whispered, pressing a kiss to Dan’s ear. He shivered. "I-I dunno…” Dan gasped when Phil took his ear between his teeth and groaned. “Lay down, baby. I’m gonna go lock the door.” Phil growled.

✨Dan scrambled to lay down on the bench while Phil got up and locked the door. When Phil returned to see his lovely boyfriend splayed out on the bench, he let out a low moan. “So pretty for me, baby boy.” Dan blushed. “Thank you, daddy. Just for you.” He said, quietly, watching Phil stride over and sit on the other side of the bench.

✨Phil gently lifted Dan’s skirt. “Such a pretty skirt, baby boy. Remind me who got it for you?” Dan shivered, “You did, daddy.” Phil nodded, kissing Dan’s soft, pale thigh. “That’s right, baby. And who got you these lovely panties?” Phil said, running his thumb over Dan’s hardening cock. Dan gasped at the sudden contact before squeaking, “You, daddy!”

✨Phil had the perfect idea on how to thank Dan for helping him win. “Spread your legs for me, baby. Daddy wants to eat you out.” Dan obliged, also gently lifting his butt so Phil could take his panties off. Phil pulled them down in one smooth motion, pushing Dan’s thighs back so he could see his boyfriends ass.

✨Phil lapped his tongue against Dan’s hole, making Dan shiver and moan. Phil loved his boyfriend’s strong reactions as he gently licked around the tight ring of muscle. Dan groaned, covering his face with his hands. “Feels so good, daddy.” He said quietly. Phil gently circled Dan’s ass before pushing his tongue inside, making Dan moan loudly. “Oh God, daddy more.” Dan begged.

✨Phil wrapped a hand around Dan’s hard member, gently stroking him as he worked his magic with his tongue. Dan was moaning loudly and writing around, the pleasure almost overwhelming.

✨"Gonna cum, daddy.“ Dan choked out as Phil quickened his hand movements and flicked his tongue a little harder. With a strained moan, Dan came all over his pink skirt, gasping and shaking with pleasure.

✨Phil pulled his face away from Dan’s ass, smiling at his breathless lover. "Was that a nice enough reward for cheering for daddy?” He asked, gently kissing the younger boy. Dan nodded, pulling Phil in for a hug. “I love you, Philly.”

I loved writing this I think this is my most favorite one yet

🌊send me hcs🌊

YOI re-do AU where all 6 of the Barcelona GPF skaters and their coaches are sent back to just after the Sochi GPF medal ceremony.

Phichit is at his apartment in Detroit, snuggled down in a nest of blankets on Yuuri’s bed and prowling all his social media accounts, tearing apart anyone who says anything bad about his best friend’s performance. That’s when he feels a strike of blinding pain to the base of his skull, as if he’s been struck by lightning. His eyes roll back into his head and he faints. And when he wakes up with a startled gasp about ten minutes later, he looks around in confusion, wondering why he’s not back in his parents’ home in Bangkok.

Otabek is back at his home rink in Almaty. After failing to qualify for the Finals, he and his coach had decided it would be a good change of pace to return to his own country, and he’s working feverishly so that he can do well in his country’s Nationals and make a comeback at Worlds. He’s in the middle of practicing a step sequence when he feels the blinding pain of his memories coming back, and he falls to the ice with a dull thump. A cry of alarm goes up from his rinkmates as they skate over to see if he’s okay. His coach’s accompanying thump from the rinkside makes the skaters panic even more as they go over to see what’s going on.

The other four, luckily, are already in their hotel rooms when it happens, getting ready for the banquet.

Yuuri was grabbing a quick nap at the time, so he’s lucky enough to not feel the pain of his memories returning, but he’s startled awake when Celestino comes barging into his hotel room.

(Yuuri always makes sure Celestino has a copy of his room key, in case he has an anxiety attack or doesn’t want to leave his room before a competition.)

Celestino’s expression is frantic when it lands on a confused Yuuri, who’s trying to process all the memories flooding through him.

They both immediately know the other has also gotten the memories, and Celestino sweeps Yuuri into a crushing hug. He’d been so worried about his fragile-hearted skater after his mess of a performance, and he’s just so relieved now to know that Yuuri will continue skating, even if he does eventually leave Celestino’s rink.

Yuuri is shy as he requests Celestino to keep coaching him until the end of the season - this time, he plans to pick himself up and do better at Nationals, so that he can qualify for Worlds. He wants to show the world what an amazing coach Celestino had been, and that Viktor wasn’t the only one responsible for turning Yuuri into the skater he is today.

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My Big Fat Greek Wedding Zimbits AU

My Big Fat Greek Wedding was on last night, and I thought – what if this was a Zimbits AU?  I put together a little fic outline. Here’s what I came up with.

My Big Fat Southern Wedding

  • Dicky Bittle is the gifted and talented baking son of Suzanne and Coach Bittle who own The Dancing Pies restaurant in Atlanta.  A shy and quiet young man, Dicky spends most of his time baking, confiding in his moomaw, working at the restaurant but he wants more.  He wants more for his life than just the restaurant and his very large, very close-knit and overbearing extended family.
  • When the Bittles expand and build a chain of restaurants, they open up a Dancing Pies in Nashville.  It immediately becomes the biggest and most profitable restaurant in the chain, so the Bittles move to Nashville to oversee it.
  • Enter Nashville Preds star, Jack Zimmermann, who one day upon the insistence of his teammate Tater Mashkov, visits Dancing Pies for some of the pie Tater won’t stop going on and on about.
  • Dicky is working at the restaurant and feels his heart practically stop beating when Jack and Tater are seated. Dicky doesn’t think he’s ever seen anyone as beautiful as Jack in his entire life.
  • “Zimmboni, everything here is good.  You trust me,” Tater says as Dicky pours Jack a cup of coffee.
  • “Do you recommend anything?” Jack asks brightly.
  • “If I made it, uh… you’ll eat it,” Dicky says pushing up his glasses.  
  • Dicky remembers how he’s dressed and wants to die.  He woke up late that morning and is wearing some baggy jeans, a faded Cookie Monster t-shirt, a smear of toothpaste is just under his lower lip, and his hair is sticking up in the back with a cowlick from hell.
  • “The bitty baker is too funny, Zimmboni!” Tater yells as Jack smirks and watches the shy waiter from behind his menu.
  • “You made all the pies?” Jack asks.
  • Dicky nods nervously as Jack asks Dicky to just bring him what he thinks he’ll like.
  • They two enjoy their pie and coffee as Dicky dreamily watches from the counter.
  • They leave and Dicky thinks that’s that – until one afternoon Dicky is at the local bookstore perusing the cookbooks when he hears a voice behind him.  “Hey, aren’t you that baker?”

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Three Points to My Heart

You’re the basketball manager, Daniel is the star player and team captain. You were basically meant to be.
(For anon who requested team manager!leader and captain!Daniel)


“Good luck, boys!” You cheered, placing your hand in the center of the circle. The boys of the basketball team followed suit, “Mnet Academy, fighting!” You all cheered, bringing your hands up to the sky in a signature cheer.

“(y/n), are the water bottles all filled?” The coach of the Mnet Academy varisty basketball team, Coach Seokhoon, asked you, whistle dangling against your chest.

“Of course,” Sanggyun, the team’s small forward, teased, patting you on the back, “(y/n)’s our manager, they’re always on top of it.”

“Team captains, please come to the center,” the referee yelled, blowing his whistle twice.

“Daniel,” you stepped forward slightly, “good luck!”

Kang Daniel, varsity basketball team captain and your crush of three years, smiled back at you in the way that always made your heart flutter. “Thanks, (y/n).”

Ever since you’d first gotten to Mnet Academy and Daniel had showed you around campus, you’d been smitten with his good lucks and kind, charming personality. When the position of basketball team manager had opened, you’d jumped for the opportunity to get to know the guy better.

The two of you were definitely close, given all the time you’d spent together at league meetings and dinners, away games, and even all the time on the bus to and from practice. You’d thought that maybe, all the time you’d spent around Daniel would turn your romantic feelings into friendship ones, but no such luck—you had fallen for him harder than ever.

A loud whistle from the ref startled you out of your thoughts, and you hurried to wish the other boys good luck as well.

The game got off to a quick start. Dongho, your center, won the tip-off, and Seongwoo scored the first points of the game. Back on defense, Seunghyuk moved quickly to steal the ball, passing it off to Daniel, who scored his signature three-point all-net shot. This game was going to be an easy win, you could already tell.

By the end of the first quarter, your boys were up by 15 points, and had barely won a sweat.

“Guys, remember, let’s not get cocky,” Daniel said seriously to the circle of boys. You quickly handed him a water bottle, shoving a towel at the sweaty Seongwoo, who smiled at you in wordless thanks. “They’re starting to get frustrated, and it’s making them sloppy. We can win this as long as we keep our heads cool.”

The boys nodded and jogged back onto the court, high-fiving each other in encouragement. As the second quarter of the game began, Seongwoo quickly won possession of the ball, only to be fouled, tripped by a member of the opposite team. You frowned at such blatant bad sportsmanship, glancing over at the other team’s bench. They appeared unconcerned.

After the first foul on Seongwoo, multiple followed. Seunghyuk was shoved trying to pass the ball. Dongho got kicked, and Sanggyun was elbowed as he went up for a shot.

“(y/n),” Coach Seokhoon said quietly, quirking a finger to gesture for you to come over to where he stood, focused intently on the game, “I want you to follow number 14 on the other team. He’s getting frustrated, and has started fouling already, as you can tell. I’m worried that he’ll do something serious to one of our boys.”

You nodded, fixing your gaze on number 14, who seemed to sense your stare. He looked up and sent you a wink and a wave that made your skin crawl. Then, suddenly, Daniel was next to number 14, glaring down at him and blocking his body from your view. The game started up again, as fast-paced as ever. You kept your eyes on number 14, who was definitely using a lot more knee and elbow than was needed in basketball.

“Coach,” you said quietly, eyes narrowing. Coach Seokhoon was completely focused on the game, not hearing you, “Coach! Number 14 is acting weird, something’s up.” You watched as Number 14 waved one of his teammate over, motioning to his temple. You narrowed your eyes, watching as the play resumed.

Quickly, three of the other team surrounded Daniel, and you hit Seokhoon, waving frantically. As quickly as they had surrounded him, the three guys were gone, leaving Daniel looking dazed, clutching his temple.

“Coach, they hit one of his pressure points,” you said urgently, putting two-and-two together, “they know Daniel’s our star player, they’re deliberately trying to take him out!”

Coach Seokhoon gestured for the ref to pause the game, and the two of you rushed onto the court.

“Daniel, are you okay?” You asked worriedly, reaching up to brush the hair away from his temple, frowning at the rapidly reddening spot there.

“M fine,” Daniel said, obviously in pain, “Coach, I can still play, please don’t take me out.”

“Daniel, no,” Seokhoon said sternly, “this game isn’t important, but your health is. If they hit you in the head, you might have a concussion, and that’s really serious.”

You carefully helped Daniel drape his arm around your shoulder, supporting him as the two of you walked to the bench. He looked dazed and slightly out of it as you pressed a cold ice pack to his head, holding it in place gently.

“(y/n), can you take him to the hospital?” Coach Seokhoon asked worriedly, “this game really isn’t a big deal, and there’s a hospital about three blocks away.”

“Yeah, of course,” you nodded, looking down at Daniel, “why don’t you go get changed so that your muscles don’t get cramped, and we can head out?”

Daniel nodded, moving towards the locker room slowly as Coach Seokhoon went to explain to the referee what had happened. You gathered all the rest of his things together, putting them into his duffel bag before going to the locker room exit, waiting there awkwardly.

“Ready?” Daniel asked, coming out of the locker room, hair damp from the quick shower he had taken. The game was still going on in the gym behind you, and Daniel glanced wistfully back before following you out of the gym doors. “Thanks for walking me, I know this probably isn’t how you envisioned your Friday night.”

“Oh, it’s okay,” you assured him, smiling, “I’d be a bad manager if I didn’t.” You rubbed your arms slightly, surprised at how chilly the air had gotten.

“Oh, there’s a spare sweatshirt in my duffel bag if you want it,” Daniel offered, cheeks a bit pink, “I don’t want you to be cold or anything.” He quickly rifled around in his bag, producing a fairly large sweatshirt and handing it to you. You carefully tugged it over your head, feeling a bit like a marshmallow given how large the sweatshirt was. Daniel grinned down at you. “It looks good on you.”

“It’s kinda big,” you remarked, lifting up the sleeves, which dripped off your arms, to prove your point.

“Still, it’s cute,” he replied, cheeks reddening even more. You felt your own cheeks heat up at that comment, thankful for the distraction of the nearing hospital.

You followed him inside the clinic area, a doctor hurrying to take you to a private room. You tuned out as a doctor conducted a quick concussion exam on Daniel, ultimately determining that yes, Daniel did have a concussion, but it wasn’t severe.

“You just won’t be able to play for a while,” the doctor explained, “you’ll need rest and relaxation, no basketball or other sports.”

“Really?” Daniel groaned, burying his head in his hands. You patted him on the back sympathetically, knowing how much he loved playing basketball.

“I understand that it seems like a drag now,” the doctor said, “but your brain needs to recover. Believe me, you’ll thank me in the long run.”

After explaining in detail what Daniel was and was not allowed to do, the doctor dismissed you, informing the two of you where the closest bus stop was. Daniel took the bus one way, while you took it the other. Just as you were about to cross the street to get to your own stop, Daniel caught your arm.

“Hey, (y/n),” he said a bit shyly, cheeks reddening again under the yellow streetlight. “I just wanted to say thank you, again. I’ve always known how kind you were, but I think seeing how caring you were made me fall for you even more.” You felt your cheeks heat to a million degrees as you stared at the basketball captain open-mouthed. Daniel clapped a hand over his mouth, eyes widening, “shit, did I say that out loud?”

“Y-yeah,” you stammered, unable to believe your ears, “yeah, you said that out loud.”

“Fuck,” Daniel hissed, running a hand through his hair, “man, I really didn’t plan on confessing like this,” he groaned, kicking the signpost. You squeaked, running over to stop him, placing a hand on his arm.

“No physical activity, Daniel!” You exclaimed with a frown, “you heard what the doctor said.”

Daniel just smiled down at you, “see? You’re always such a kind, positive person. It’s why I like you so much, and I’m not going to deny it. I’m sorry if it burdens you or if you don’t want to be our manager anymore, but I promise I won’t act on it if it makes you uncomfortable.”

You shook your head, “no, it’s not that.” You waved your hands around, panicking slightly and cursing yourself for being so awkward, “Daniel, I like you too, I really do, it’s just, I don’t understand why you like me? You’re the most popular guy at school, anyone would die to just go on one date with you. Me? I’m not special, I’m just the basketball manager.”

“And yet somehow, I like you,” Daniel said with a smile, looking down at you, “you’re more than just a basketball manager, you’re (y/n), and I think you’re perfect the way you are. Trust me, (y/n), I really like you, and I would be so, so grateful if you gave me a chance.”

You sighed, looking up at him, lips turning up into a smile, “I think we can work something out.”

Daniel beamed, shifting to pull you into a tight hug, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before hugging you again. “I’ll see you tomorrow, (y/n),” he said softly, looking down at you. You rolled your eyes before going up on your tip-toes, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“I’m giving you the chance, Daniel,” you teased once you’d pulled away, Daniel blushing intensely. “You’d better take it, don’t waste my time.”

Daniel leaned down for a second kiss, this one a lot deeper. “I won’t, babe, I promise.”