super shots

flickr

Swiss Countryside. by Alex Penfold
Via Flickr:
Featuring the Koenigsegg Naraya.

anonymous asked:

Hey do you know where I can watch the HakYona scene from Zeno's OVA (the one with Yona's nightmare), because I've seen the episode but the scene wasn't in it, so Im confused as to where to find it

Did you watch past the end credits hun??

4

Marksandrec’s Super Dooper Popcorn Party #229

(Most dialogue from Happy New Year, Charlie Brown. Dan’s is from Rent, though, haha.) (Best wishes for 2017, guys!)

pros of reading Ballroom e Youkoso

1. AMAZING art style

2. diversity in body types

3. the main character isnt an idiot or a good for nothing. he actually tries and sometimes succeeds and learnes a lot and gives his all WHILE ENJOYING HIMSELF. he takes it seriously without losing the fun of it! he gives a slightly different vibe from all the other main characters i read so far


4. the characters are very different from what they seem at first glance

same person

6. the characters are very realistic. the manga basically explores what every dancer aspires to become and how they get that. different paths for different people..

cons: none

theres like a hell of a lot more i wanna share but im so bad with words i hope those pictures are enough, please go read it its so good, it made me want to dance while reading it, and i actually skipped a little on my way home! 

Obtuse

Percy makes friends at a college party, but her intentions aren’t what he expects.


“Oh, thanks!” Percy smiles as the girl - Cassie? Casey? He thinks it’s Cassie, but the music was so loud when she introduced herself he couldn’t quite hear - hands him a fresh cup. “Just Coke, right?”

“Yeah,” she says, matching his smile with her own. “Though I still don’t get why you’re not drinking.”

He tries to subtly sniff the drink before taking a sip, just to be sure. It smells okay. “Not a fan,” he says by way of explanation, taking a small sip.

Cassie tags a swig from her own cup, gagging slightly as the vodka hits her throat. “Yeah,” she coughs, “I can - ah, I can understand that.”

He laughs, and she laughs too, and when Percy settles back against the wall she comes and stands next to him. 

She nods out at the crowd and says, “So, what do you think of the party?”

“It’s pretty fun,” he says, which is mostly true. He’d prefer to be back in his dorm, snuggled up in bed with Netflix on in the background and Annabeth curled up beside him. But, as far as college parties go, he thinks this one is all right. The music isn’t terrible, at least. “Although, to be honest, I don’t have that much experience with parties so I’m probably not the best judge.”

Cassie turns to him with a knowing look. “I thought you were shy, hanging out by yourself over here with that brooding expression.”

“Brooding?” he says, lips quirking up.

“Well, you’re not brooding now. But you totally were before.”

“I was not brooding.”

“You were.”

Keep reading

So last night was a mess, I danced and sang in front of the camera until I puked but otherwise it was fine and dandy and fun, so thank you my friends for hanging out with me while i was drinking alone! <3

Imagine having play fights with Chris.

A/N: Thought of this after seeing Chris bantering with Octavia Spencer (who is just an amazing actress that I love so much) Enjoy!

You tried not to giggle as you stood behind your husband in the kitchen; you were wearing the Atlanta Falcons jersey Octavia Spencer- a close friend of Chris’ and yours- had sent over as an attempt to mess with him after their banter on Twitter about whose team was going to win at the Super Bowl. She had texted you about it the day before, and of course you were more than happy to mess with your husband; it was payback considering he made fun of your favorite TV show ‘Arrow’ because it was DC.

Now everyone knew what Chris was like when it came to football, Tom Brady, and The Patriots; passionate was an understatement, that boy was obsessed. His inner fan girl was so well known that every interview you had leading up to the Super Bowl involved that particular topic. You knew nothing about sports, but you knew a lot about how adorable your husband got when it came to his team. He was about as adorable as you were when you met your favorite superhero, Captain America at the Vanity Fair after party four years ago.

You tapped your socked foot on the hardwood floor as you waited for Chris- who was clearly too busy stocking the fridge with beer- to turn around. You sighed quietly then cleared your throat to catch his attention because at the rate he was going, he wasn’t going to notice you for another ten minutes and you had other things to attend to.

“Do you think I bought too-” He began as he turned around, cutting himself off when he saw what you were wearing. You pressed your lips together to suppress your smile which was forming at the sight of his facials. “How dare you?” He tried not to smile himself as he pretended to scold you, closing the fridge door behind him. “And in my house, Y/N?” He quizzed, trying to hide his amusement.

“Oh,” you scoffed and chuckled simultaneously; his lips quirked into a more visible smile. “All of a sudden this is your house?” You crossed your arms over your chest as he leaned back against the kitchen counter. “Didn’t you say what’s yours is mine, Evans?”

“Yeah, yours as in- Y/N Evans,” he retorted playfully. “I um-” he pointed at you then crossed his arms again, “I don’t know who you are 'cause my beautiful wife whose best quality is her loyalty would never betray me and my team like that.” You giggled and he bit back his smile, “that’s just disrespectful, really.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you shrugged with an innocent smile on your lips. “I’m just standing here doing nothing.” Chris scoffed as he lowered his gaze onto your jersey. “Oh, you’re talking about my shirt?” You looked down and pulled at the material. “I just put the first thing I saw in my closet, no biggie.”

“First of all,” he laughed as he pushed himself off the counter so he could make his way over to you. “That is a jersey. Secondly,” he gently pinched your chin between his fingers, “we have never, nor will we ever- have a Falcon jersey in this house.” You pressed your lips together, suppressing laughter. “Take it off before I do it for you, okay?” He released your chin and booped your nose before turning his back on you to return to the fridge.

“No,” you bit playfully; Chris stopped and smiled while his back was turned to you.

“I’m sorry,” he turned around, raising an eyebrow; the amusement in his tone audible. “What was that?” He challenged in a playful tone with his hands on his hips. You smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Take it off, that jersey has no place in this household.” He told you, trying not to laugh. “I mean it, Y/N.” He warned when you shook your head.

“What are you going to do, hm?” You challenged and he smirked, taking a step closer to you. “How are you going to make me take off the jersey of the most amazing team ever?” You said and his lips parted, feigning shock whilst hiding his amusement. “Yup, I said it. The Patriots suck compared to The Falcons,” you egged him on.

“You take that back,” he tried not to laugh as he pointed at you. As much as he loved his team, he loved you a lot more so you could say anything you wanted and nothing bad would happen; it also helped that he knew you were just joking. “Take it back and take that jersey off, or I’m going to throw you into the pool.”

“Yeah, right,” you laughed then immediately regretted it when you saw the playful gleam in your husband’s pretty blue eyes. “Chris, don’t you- No!” You shrieked with laughter and ran when he started for you. “Oh my God, no!” You ran for the stairs so you could hide in the safety of your bedroom but Chris caught you before you hit the first step. “Chris, no!” You laughed as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, lifting you off the ground.

“Do you want to take it back?” He whispered into your ear, his beard tickling your neck.

“Take your Patriots jersey back to the store because it’s a sucky team?” You quipped, giggling.

“You did not just say that,” he tickled your sides and you squirmed, laughing. “You’re so dead, Y/N. I hope you don’t have your phone in your pocket because I am tossing you into the pool.” Your laughter grew louder as he threw you over his shoulder. “You have about thirty seconds to take it back, unless you want to end up in the pool, of course.”

“I know you, Evans.” You giggled as you wrapped your arms around his waist. “You wouldn’t, so no- I’m not taking it back.” He shrugged and continued walking towards the pool in the backyard. “You’re all bark and no bite,” you poked his side and he chuckled.

“If you say so, Y/N.”

You giggled because you were so sure your husband was just joking, after all- it wasn’t the first time a play fight had ended with him threatening to throw you into the pool. He had never done it before and you doubt he’d start now. He usually walked out to the pool with you over his shoulder or in his arms bridal style, threaten to toss you in, almost toss/push you in only to pull you back into his arms to kiss you. It was the same every time, so you were sure you were safe this time too.

“Last chance,” he warned as he stopped at the edge of the pool with his back towards the water and you over the blue surface. “All you have to say is 'I’m sorry, Chris. The Patriots is the best team ever.’ And you’ll be free to go. After you take of the jersey, of course.”

“I’m sorry, Chris,” you began, biting back your smile as you continued, “I’m sorry I married a man with such poor judg- Chris, no!” You screamed when he pretended to drop you. “Don’t do that,” you smacked his butt, giggling. “You nearly gave me a heart attack. Put me down,” you poked his side.

“Say the words,” he sang song.

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes. “I’m sorry, Chris. The Patriots is the best team ever,” you recited monotonously. “Now can you put me down? All my blood is rushing to my head.” You told him as he pulled you back over his shoulder and lowered you onto your feet in front of him.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He teased.

“Nope,” you smiled and pressed your palm to his chest. “Do you want to know what else isn’t hard?” You whispered as you leaned in, your lips inches away from his. “Tricking my big dumb dumb of a husband.” You giggled then pushed him into the pool before he could comprehend the situation. He fell into the water, cussing, and left you laughing on the sidelines. “You got a bit of water on-” you gestured to his cheek when he rose to the surface, drenched from head to toe. “Yeah,” you giggled when he wiped his cheek, “I think you got it.”

“You’re going to regret that, Y/N.”

“Perhaps,” you shrugged, smiling.

“Want to know what else isn’t hard?”

“You, 'cause it’s freezing in the water?” You teased.

“Yes, but-” he chuckled, swimming to the edge. “I was thinking more along the lines of, pulling my mischievous wife into the water because she’s not fast enough to out run Captain America!” He pushed himself off the edge and launched himself out of the pool, grabbing you before you could run back into the house. “Gotcha!”

“Chris!” You shrieked with laughter as the two of you fell into the water together. “I hate you,” you splashed him when you rose to the surface after him. “It’s f-f-fucking freezing.” You felt your teeth chatter when your body actually realized the temperature of the water.

“Don’t be such a baby.” He chuckled, swimming closer to you. “C'mere, baby.” He grabbed your hand, pulling you close and wrapping an arm around you. You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck as he leaned in and kissed you. “Just so you know,” he whispered when he broke the kiss, “I’ve got a very dry and very warm Patriots sweatshirt waiting inside for you.”

an imp and her wolf

These Hands

So before Toei makes or breaks this, here'smy take on Vegeta’s worry over baby Bra.

oooOooo

Not even the aches of a vigorous workout could satiate his worry.

Vegeta huffed as he dropped to his knees, sweat creating a pool between his fingers firmly planted on the ground. He had overworked himself again, trying to alleviate his unease the best way he knew how.

It still wasn’t enough.

He couldn’t turn off the thoughts that raced through his brain. Once upon a time, he was able to block out his conscience, silencing the voices by way of purge and inducing fear, getting lost in the madness that was Frieza’s army.

But he didn’t have that luxury now. And they screamed at him relentlessly, forcing him to cover his ear with his palms, hoping to regain his sanity.

‘What if you fail for good this time? What if she hates you because of your past? When the time comes, can she separate Vegeta the father from Vegeta the sinner?’

They paralyzed him; creating a heavy weight that threatened to burst the vessels of his stomach open. He was already a father, and even though he was anything but parental in the beginning of Trunks life, his son was happy and healthy and strong.

But that was Trunks. A boy Vegeta had the luxury of meeting before the babe even drew his first breath. He was able to see his strengths and weaknesses, get an idea of his personality, a perfect combination of wit and pride.

But she was different, she was new. She was the magnifying glass on the person he had grown to be all these years later. She wasn’t going to arrive in the midst of battle; her father wasn’t lost in his own selfish vices of becoming the strongest in the universe. He hoped she wouldn’t know the taste of battle, he prayed to Dende that her skin never became scarred with battle wounds outside of childhood scrapes. He wanted something different for her. If Trunks was his physical form of everything he pride himself in as a Saiyan, she was everything he wanted to become in a man.

In a father.

It scared him shitless.

He rose to his feet, wobbling from exhaustion, and turned off the simulated gravity. He felt relief wash over him as the chamber returned to normal gravity levels, his muscles singing in victory as they relaxed.

His stomach yelled at him vigorously, betraying the plea of isolation from his anxieties. A quick lunch couldn’t hurt, followed by a shower. And then back to the gravity room to work out his pent up aggressions.

He hadn’t seen Bulma really, other than to check on her swelling belly and deal with her hunger cravings. He didn’t know what to say to her. The day she announced that she was pregnant, he simply nodded and went to train. He may have become a good man, something he still struggled with, but he was still Vegeta. And Vegeta did not feel comfortable expressing his inner most thoughts.

And those thoughts were currently a tornado of happiness and fear, patronizing him completely until he was nothing more than a flame haired mess of emotions.

He made his way to the compound, the sun beating against his sweat slickened back, and let his mouth water to the promise of left over steak that had been cooked the night prior.

And he just about blew the whole damn place up when he saw the meat being devoured by the third class.

“Vegeta!” Goku announced, juices from the steak pooling around the indents of his mouth, “Bulma said you were trainin’ pretty intensely, I didn’t think I’d see you this early.”

Vegeta scoffed and crossed his arms. Bulma sat across from Goku, smiling at him with that hypnotizing grin of hers, the same one that led him to being a father twice now, and he relaxed the tense lines of his jaw. She was glowing, bathing in the pregnancy glow that radiated around her as she massaged her massive stomach. Had she been so ethereal when she was pregnant with Trunks? The Vegeta of yesteryear was too busy trying to ascend to pay attention, but this Vegeta noticed and he mentally declared her to be the most beautiful he had ever seen her.

“Why are you here, Kakarot? ” Vegeta tore his eyes away from the sun that called itself his wife and glared at the messy haired Saiyan. “And why are you eating my food?”

“I came here to see if you wanted to train with me and Whis, ” Goku replied, his mouth barely functioning around the food that stuffed his mouth. Vegeta grimaced. In all of the years of knowing him, he hadn’t changed his immature habits. Vegeta wasn’t sure he even minded as much, at least he could say that he was more mature in that aspect.

Vegeta looked over at Bulma, running his eyes down her plump frame. He shook his head immediately, gaining a raised eyebrow from his wife. “Now isn’t a good time for that, if you haven’t noticed.”

“Well I was goin’ to ask you, but that was before I noticed Bulma’s condition. I can’t believe you’re havin’ another baby,” Goku leaned back in his chair, resting his hands behind his head, and whistled. “You sure have come a long way, Vegeta. Willingly havin’ another baby like that.”

“I don’t need you tell me that.”

“It’s interestin’,” Goku continued, his eyes innocently locking with Vegeta’s, “I was dead for so long before I found out about Goten, but we just clicked right away. Now you get to have a whole baby while you’re livin’. And you’re the strongest you’ve ever been while everythin’s peaceful. This new generation of kids are spoiled,” Goku laughed, wiping the corners of his mouth, “Gohan barely made it four before he ran into problems.”

“She won’t know any problems,” he retorted sharply, “not with me as her father and her brother as her protector.”

Bulma smiled radiantly, listening to her husband declare an unofficial promise to their daughter. Even she would be left in awe at the man Vegeta had grown to be. His dedication and strength had always enticed her, and it seemed like now he was using it for the greater good. Watching how he treated Trunks, both of them, had eased any doubts in her mind that he struggled as a father. He was good and she was grateful.

And she knew her little girl would love her father with the same admiration of her purple haired son.

“Well, thanks for lunch Bulma,” Goku stood, stretching and rubbing his stomach with delight, “it was pretty tasty. And Vegeta, maybe you and me can get some sparrin’ in after the baby comes? Maybe you and me can train her and Pan to be some strong Saiyan ladies.”

Vegeta smirked. Now there was a plan. “Better for you and I to do it. If it was up to Pan’s father, she’ll be in her twenties before she even ascends.”

“He he, ” Goku rubbed the back of his head and smiled, “ Gohan will get it together. I got faith in the guy. Speaking of which… ” Goku’s eyes narrowed in concentration, and then he pressed to fingers to his forehead before he vanished. Bulma shook her head.

“That guy. He still doesn’t know how to properly exit a room.” She ran her eyes over her husband, his delicious muscles bulging in his spandex suit. His face settled on the tiles of the kitchen floor, and Bulma stood to walk to him. He didn’t need to say anything for her to understand what was going on. He was nervous and anxious and wouldn’t tell her, couldn’t tell her. She let him train away his insecurities, hoping that he would be more at ease by the time the Princess of Capsule Corps arrived.

“I’m surprised you didn’t want to go train with Goku and Whis,” she said warmly, placing a hand on his shoulder, “that’s not the Vegeta I know.”

The Vegeta she knows. He grit his teeth as he marinated on that statement. Of his family member so far, his son and soon to be daughter had not witnessed the man that he kept in the back of his mental closet. But she had. She watched as he ordered the killing of her boyfriend, experienced terror with him, and because of him, on Namek. She had slept with him, for reasons he still didn’t understand, and put up with his dismissal of she and their child, welcoming him back when he came home with his phantom tail between his legs.

Perhaps his daughter wasn’t the only one he needed to prove anything to.

“Hey,” she squeezed his shoulder, voice honeyed, “whatever it is you’re thinking about, just stop it.”

“It’s none of your concern.”

She watched his eyes dance over something disheartening and frowned. She had seen many of her friends go on with their lives despite their evil deeds, turning everything around for the sake of love, family and friendship. Did he not deserve the same? Did she not convey how much he was forgiven? Was Trunks not enough?

Perhaps, she decided, but maybe he needed a push.

She grabbed his hand, relishing in the fact that he did not snatch it back, and placed over her stomach. Vegeta immediately looked down at her gesture, her fingers intertwining with his.

“Hello baby, ” Bulma spoke to their child, “ this is your mama and your papa. Do you feel that? Papa’s hand right above your heartbeat? Do you feel how strong and protective his hand is? Because I do, princess, and I can tell you that you are in great hands. Your parents and your brother can’t wait to meet you, especially your papa. He’s so excited. ” She winked at his blushing face and continued. “Go easy on your papa, okay? He doesn’t know how us Brief women really are, your mama only gave him a taste. But your papa will protect you and love you, just like he’s done for me and your brother. We owe him so much, you know,” she looked up at him and smiled, but his face was still studying the smoothness of her belly.

Their hands jerked and finally his eyes bore into hers, wild with astonishment.

“Was that…? ”

“It was!” Bulma squeezed his fingers, pressing them gently into her skin as it moved around again. She heard Vegeta suck in a quick breath of air.

“Is everything…? ”

“ She’s kicking, hun,” she responded eagerly, easing his premature worry, “she’s saying hello and she hears us.” She reached up then and grabbed his face, lightly caressing his cheek. She ran her thumb over his bottom lip before replacing it with her mouth, lightly pecking it. “And most importantly she’s saying everything will be all right, papa. Your hands must feel comforting to her.”

Vegeta looked back down at the swollen belly. Was that true? Had his daughter really tried to convey that, or was Bulma reaching? The stomach kicked again under his palm, and he set his mouth into a tight line.

He wasn’t sure if he would be the father she needed or wanted. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to make her proud of him, or if he would royally screw things up.

But he was certain of one key thing.

These hands, these calloused hands that had seen too much, done too much, would protect her. He would spend every breath he had making sure his princess was safe.

He swore it.

Patater Week (Feb 6) Get Together

you know how i said i wasn’t doing this

apparently i am a liar.

(all the week’s fics will go onto ao3)

They literally slam into each other at a roller rink.

It’s a You Can Play benefit thing for kids. Kent’s too busy watching to make sure he doesn’t run over one of the mini-tots that he completely misses the giant headed in his direction. And you would think, wouldn’t you, that a guy whose career involved balancing on knives on ice would take a check on skates as well as he did in an ice rink, but nope. Kent hits Alexei Mashkov head-on and sends them both into a pile on the ground.

The icing on the cake is Kent’s arm clotheslining a six-year-old on the way down.

So now he and Tater are both sitting on the side of the roller skating rink, holding matching cold packs to their faces while a small child stuffs tissues up his nose to stop the bleeding.

“I’mb gonna tell everybody at school that Kent Parsob hit by face!” the kid tells Kent happily, oblivious to his dad’s efforts to keep him from talking and thereby snorting blood everywhere.

Kent gives him a weak thumbs up. At his side, Alexei makes a noise that might actually be a giggle.

“You so cute with kids,” Alexei says.

Damn language barriers, Kent thinks. “You mean I’m good with kids. And I’m not that great. They just like me because I’m ridiculous.”

“You are very ridiculous,” Alexie agrees. “But I’m choose right word, ‘cute.’ You are cute being with kids.”

Kent thinks the head-on collision must have knocked something loose in both their heads. He twists sideways and gapes, the effect of which is probably lost due to the ice pack covering half his face. “I’m sorry. What did you just say?”

Keep reading

Quarterback Comeback - Chris Evans

Request: Okay so you wrote the Falcon fan story, think you can write one where the reader is a Patriots fan? Because if I had been at that game I would have been flipping out right along side him! & 

Request: Hey, do you think you can write a Chris Evans x Reader at the Superbowl, she’s also a Pats fan, and sooo much into the game. And they both yell the same thing at the same time and Chris notices her and like immediate crush, please?

A/N: Sorry if this is a bit cramped or any sort of football terminology is off, I tried to be accurate as I could. I even watched highlights of the game and went on the NFL website to look up the players, lmao. I hope this is good for both requests! Lots of love - R .x 

people: Chris!SuperBowl - Reader ft. Scott Evans & Jeremy Renner

warnings: nope.


“Yeah! Fuck yeah! Is this was euphoria feels like? Cause I’m high as a fuckin’ kite, that was sick, man!” You gave a double high five to Renner before turning to take a sip of your beer, which was missing. 

What the fuck, who takes a beer at the Super Bowl? Are we savages?

“Chris, I think someone stole my beer, Imma go get another-” Just as you were searching through your purse you glanced up at your boyfriend to see him frozen, with a beer situated right on his lips.

Popping up, you snatched your beer out of the thieves hands. Putting it on your other side knowing Renner would spit it out any of the beer if he decided to steal it. It was Bud Light and Renner was too fancy for that shit, so he says.

“Hey! Asshole! Ain’t you got millions? Get your paws off my drink!” I poked at Chris’s Patriot covered chest and saw those blue eyes begin their trick of puppy dog eyes, the ones I never could resist from him, ever.

“I thought we share now? Besides, it’s like God is upon us now! We have a fucking lead we’re so close, babe. We’re gonna win. I know it. Forget the beer we are going to be champions again-” We swing our heads as Scott yells out for us to look out onto the field- oh fuck.

“BRADY! FUCK YEAH! OH, MY GOD! YES, YES YES!”

“BRADY! FUCK YEAH! OH, MY GOD! YES, YES YESSSSSSSS!”

You saw your second boyfriend (to be fair, Chris didn’t really care and actually would agree anytime you talked about how Tom’s ass looked damn fine in his uniform. 

“Are you two fuckin’ like psychic? What the hell?” You both turned to Renner and rose a brow to him,

“What do ya mean?” Chris took a swig of his own beer can, and let his eyes drift back and forth to the field as Brady got Pat’s for his slide into the 40-yard line.

“You two have been yelling the same thing at the exact same time for like twenty minutes, I’d think you’ll we’re from the shining if you guys weren’t fuc-” 

Punching his shoulder you just smirked at Renner and shook your head, “It’s called telekinesis, Jer. We get it whenever we watch sports. It’s like all of a sudden we share a brain-” You took a slow glare to Chris jokingly, “And apparently beer’s now too…”

Chris only laughed and grasped your waist, pulling you snug into his side as the team set up again. “You think they’ll come back from 3 to 28?” 

Scott asked nonchalantly, only to have you and Chris simultaneously tell him, “Yeah we fuckin’ arah! We turning this steamboat around.”

You giggled at this weird formation that only now you realized looked probably quite disturbing outside of your mind and Chris’s as well. “We’re weird, aren’t we?”

“Yup. Psychos whose team is about to lock this shit down.” You gave Chris a peck to his arm before turning back to the game, only to see a goddamn miracle happen as White took a dive, landing a touchdown but just inches.

“Yeah! Oh, my! God!” You and Chris looked at each other with eyes filled to the brim with joy. Except, normally the passion that was in between you was not because a sweaty guy just got sacked by a bunch of other sweaty guys and managed to still land a touchdown.

“Still worried we ain’t gonna win, Scottie?” You leaned over and looked at Scott as he gave you a fuck off smirk and shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Oh good, god. I’m gonna have to have to Chris’s in my life now? Is this what it’s gonna be like, every time the Patriot’s get to the Super Bowl? Because if so, I’m gonna start charging you both for my additional weekly therapy sessions.” 

Chris just laughed loudly, clapping his heads as he threw his head back, obviously getting a bit Drunk Happy. You just chuckled to yourself and downed the rest of my beer, setting it aside and focusing back on the game.

                                                          …

You knew they were going to make a comeback, it was what New Englander’s did. We turned around in the last moments and came together to fucking smash the glass ceiling every time. We never stop and we don’t even let our minds wander in the final hours of the game. To see the ball make it across the white line, and into the zone, landing us Patriots, another. Fucking. Win.

Confetti went off as you and Chris jumped up and down, high from the electricity in the air of fellow Bostonians and Englander’s cheering the team for their miraculous victory. “Oh my god! Yes! Yeah, yeah, yeah!” You shouted along with Chris as we roared with the fans. 

Taking in the victory of another win. Feeling Chris tug slightly on your arm made you turn towards him only to be picked up by the inward curve of your waist, and have a pair of beer tasting lips kiss you fiercely. Not bothering in holding back anything between you both as he kissed you with as much force as he could without pain. You draped your arms around his neck, letting your legs snake around his waist. Suddenly forgetting you were in public and people we most likely filming this. You frankly, give a damn, because your Quarterback was kissing from the victory. 

You almost pulled away from Chris with the love he poured into the kiss, feeling as if it was too much for your body to handle with all the excitement and beer running through you, right now. He pulled his head away and gave a dreaming, toothy grin that made you giggle softly into his neck while leaned in. You embraced the teddy bear of a man while swaying together back and forth in almost a hypnotic motion. Letting the cheers take you both different places. It was weird looking at everyone jumping and screeching, yet you’d just been that person who was tugging at their hair, grabbing anyone in sighting to tug them towards the scene below you, or even just shouting fuck over and over.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the chaos that surrounded you both, and the euphoria that laid in between are bodies, almost like we found a transportation device and we’re no longer at the stadium. We’re just together, loving one in another in a celebration of joy and love. After the last year, this win felt more than a victory for the Patriots, it felt like a win for you and Chris, personally. 

After the fights that you both went through together, united as one for the injustice that America was receiving these days, and much more to come, it sucked to believe tomorrow would resume normally. You kept in mind that in this moment, confetti popped and fell all around us, some catching even in your tangled locks.

“I mean, I hate to say this, Scott, but look how cute the Shining twins are? It’s like a football romantic dramedy!” Chris’s friend John teased you both as he pointed his camera towards us both, making Scott laugh and swat at John’s camera 

“Hey! It’s only during football season we become one. The rest of the time we are in a war together on who is better than the other at what. Let’s be honest, babe. I’m better, always.”

You slapped Chris on the chest and giggled, taking his unfinished Bud light from behind him, and slowly bringing it to your lips, “You keep telling yourself that, Buddy Boy. Just remember that we have film age of me kicking your ass all the way to Colorado in table tennis.”

“Shots already fired and we aren’t even out of the damn stadium yet!” Scott groaned, smacking his hand to his forehead. Jeremy let out a gruff laugh and patted my back as you situate yourself back on the ground again, fixing your top that had risen slightly.

“Congrats Scott on your newest sibling!” Jeremy teased to across at Scott who was smiling and shaking his head. “I’m in for a new hearing aid when they have a baby and becomes the ultimate super pat’s fan. Can you imagine?”

“Yes, I can, dork! And she’s also part of the team and is alongside all the best players and has gotten twenty super bowl rings so yeah!” You smiled at Chris delicately, as if he was suddenly made of glass. His voice never wavered when he replied to Scott, meaning he’d thought about our daughter in the NFL before. Not just making it up right now.

“Hmm, Baby Evans, Quarterback for the Patriots and winner of… a noble peace prize! I like that, babe. Let’s go start planning her future college fund, right now! Well, after we celebrate, then we can start her college fund and map out where she’ll play in college…”

Chris smiled and jumped for joy like a jumping bean suddenly made its way into his heart. Chris couldn’t help but dream about the perfection of you and him, crossed together to make the most amazing human being.

Chris knew that whatever gender, whatever personality, they’d have a Quarterback baby. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world to think about, though. He couldn’t help but smile more and more at the thought of a baby Evans wandering around during a future Super bowl, with a tiny Brady jersey on during the game.

Something to look forward too, in the next few years. 

At least that was Chris’s hope.


I can’t keep my Chris!Dad feels down, guys!!! I mean like look below, COME ONNNNN! They always come out in my writing, lol. I hope you enjoyed it! 

Keep reading

“*squeal* YOU WERE GOING FOR IT. YOU WERE LIKE ‘YEAH!!!’“

(。+・`ω・´)   Akui and Tsuki’s adventures at the con! Tsuki-chan and I were passing by, then we stopped by a group of awesome people who gave us strawberry pocky and we decided to play the pocky game! XDDD

ヾ( ・`⌓´・)ノ゙ TSUKI-CHAN’S WEEEAK. SHE BROKE OFF.

New Beginnings - a.i.

a/n: I wrote this thing about New Year’s Eve instead of making plans for New Year’s Eve. (thx @2013ashton for the title because I can’t make titles to save my life)

word count: 2.2k

You can’t deny it; you look good.  This party gave you an excuse to wear the adorable satin dress that has hung unworn in your closet for months and to use all the makeup you had treated yourself with for Christmas.  This attire is vastly different than your typical New Year’s Eve outfit that consisted of pajama pants and a stained T-shirt.  A week ago you would have assumed you’d be wearing the same thing as always to ring in the new year, but a call from Ashton changed that.  He’d gotten a plus one invite to a fairly lavish New Year’s party and asked you to come along.  Though you did enjoy your quiet nights in, you couldn’t pass up an opportunity to go to a real New Year’s party at least once. 

Keep reading