#AND ALSO LYON MY LOVE TOO

[baeshijima]

starting a fairy tail binge after not finishing s2 for 6474846822 years and man. it really is a lot of nostalgia 😭

[mara-and-its-the-same]

hello there! I would love to read any of your thoughts/fics about Cal and/or Danny!

OR?! I could never pick between them, but for the sake of introductions let's start with thoughts because the fics are coming don't you worry. They just need a little fine tuning

Teeny thoughts/HCs for both below the cut (it's yap central up in here)🥰

Cal

I'm so obsessed with the way he talks, like absolutely entranced by his cadence and I love every scene of him telling some story. and I know that he'd know that, maybe not right away but eventually he'd recognize the look you give him around the bonfire while he's talking to the group is the same one you give him late in the evening close to the final page of your date nights. OH MY GOD!

when you find out he speaks french! i'm woozy just thinking about it, (i don't even care that i can't understand quebecois for the life of me) you'd ask him to say something to you just so you could hear the sound of it. even if he's gotten a little rusty since he hasn't has anyone to speak it with, and even if all he can recite are the few stories he remembers from his childhood, or motorcycle parts he's learned from the translations on the back of manuals. like a late night and you cant sleep and you just want the sound of his voice to relax to...he might not totally understand the attraction, but he's not one to look a gift horse in the mouth and if you're into it who is he to deny you such a simple wish?

and I don't think he'd be the type to be one of those "my old ball and chain" guys, like he's undoubtedly in love with you and in love with being around you as often as possible. so if you're home while he's working in the garage he's setting up a lawn chair for you to relax in, just to keep him company, if the weather's nice he's putting it out in the sun for you and if it's a little too hot he sets you up in the shade with a little cooler with whatever the two of you are into that week. and he's certainly not letting you lift a finger. not because he thinks you'll break something (which like you might, but who am i to judge) but because he doesn't want you getting grease all over your outfit or roughing up those soft, pretty hands of yours. he just wants your company

Danny

for right now in this moment, i'm all over the idea of being his "girl back home" like he's out in chicago with all these bikers getting into god knows what kind of trouble, while you're safe at home just thinking about him every hour of every day. of course he calls whenever he gets the chance, but it's never a sure thing with the amount of time he spends out on the longer runs. and long distance calls are expensive, but every time he does it's so precious. the few times you hear some new midwestern phrase or pronunciation slip in and get a few extra seconds on the call just to poke a little more fun at him.

the guys get ahold of his wallet one day and can't believe he's kept you a secret this long. 3 different pictures of you sit in the accordion folded holder between the fold of his wallet and he thanks god for the feeling he got that morning he should change the ones he had in before (much more,,,invigorating if you will), for these three that he brought with him too, just to be sure he can see all your different expressions every time he reaches into his back pocket.

AND WHEN YOU COME TO VISIT!! at first he's not so sure it's the best idea, worrying you won't like the guys or something might happen once you're there, but all that is secondary the moment he thinks about how long it's been since he's last seen you, and before he knows it he's calling you back and taking you up on that offer to get a week off of work and coming to see him. Once you're there he's not leaving your side for a minute, firstly because he feels the need to let everyone else know you're his (and that you are real, as much as Zipco and Wahoo tried to get him to admit to the pictures in his wallet being magazine clippings because what's a girl like you doing with a pinko "college-boy" like him) and second because he's missed you so much for so long and he doesn't know the next time you'll be back so he's getting every second he can with you

and oh goodness are you impressed with this new look he's adopted. so different from what he used to wear to class or out walking around the city together, but still it fits him so well. your knees almost give out the 3rd day of your visit when he comes out from his bedroom in a black tank top and his denim vest...and maybe you do feign heat exhaustion just so he'll take you home early on the back of the bike he's spent so many phone calls telling you about...just because the heat was a more internal kind doesn't mean it's any less real. or maybe the exhaustion was just that you were getting tired of seeing him look that hot without doing anything about it. either way he hasn't seen you pull him up his apartment stairs that fast since you first started dating

and not maybe, but certainly, your trip goes from one week to two to a month until the tragic reality of responsibility sinks in and you realize you really are running out of clothes...

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

To celebrate the end of the Eras (don't look at me) here are some Eras fading into grey on film for the ~vibes~ because they do come back stronger than a 90s trend 📸

Eras Tour Lyon night 2 - June 3 2024

[qazastra]

onlyoneof vlog - backstage hearing lyons sing along to dora maar at a sold-out show

[yoohyeon]

top 5 characters of all time !!

It’s gonna be all anime / Manga !

1.Juvia Lockser (Fairy Tail)

2.Gray Fullbuster (Fairy tail)

3.Kyo Sohma (Fruits basket)

4.Son Hak (Yona of the dawn / Akatsuki no yona)

5.Alphonse Elric (FMA)

put “top 5” anything in my ask and i will answer ok go

[diari0deglierrori]

Also I wanted to give Tamino tickets to my sibling as birthday gift but everything is a bit too far :/

[thatbitchery]

The way to stand on business is to have hard rock values and hobbies. A lot of you suffer because you're pathetic little chameleons that learned to survive their childhood by blending in and masking (I'm looking STRAIGHT at the autistics and daughters of strict dads right now. 100% straight shots being taken) and have nothing to stand on PLUS you just- don't have a life. Of course you tolerate bs you have nothing to do all day. Some of us have jobs and horses to ride and paintings to make where will I get the time to be taking BS hun I have work to do? Bark at the void or something. You have all the time in the world so you are accessible enough for people to know they can simply just- cancel plans and your spineless wet tissue ass back will give in. If you are always available why would anyone prioritize you? Get a job and hobby so you also cancel plans and make them earn you like a woman with a working mind. Get busy.

Back to the main point- you can't stand on business because yu are nothing and have nothing to stand on. I'm not trying to degrade you- mind you- its just I kinda have no choice but to look down on you when you are on the floor. What am I even on rn?

Well. The first sign someone grew up middle class is lack of a spine and intense masking. The one thing the lower class and upper class have in common is the inability to give a fack. Lower class because they have nothing to lose & upper class because they are, in fact, better than you. In a capitalist society money is a marker of status = position don't even attempt moral police me. Elon Musk can say whatever bc wtf will you do? Tweet about it? The homeless will say whatever they want, too, because what will you do? Cancel him and make him lose the job he doesn't even have? What is the worst you can do and what makes you think he won't survive it. It's the middle class that's the breeding ground for snakes because they have a shit ton to lose and do not have enough resources to avoid the consequences of it. All the doormats and snakes and chameleons and wet tissues and untrustables are in the taxpaying bracket.

The first sign someone is elite is their level of idgafness. Not fur. Not that black American express. Not Patek Phillipe. IDGAFness. The princess and the pea absolute queen princess downright refusing to sleep on a bed with a pea is elitism. On tiktok they call it black cat energy. My way or no way. The way men know what to do with you isn't how much Chanel you're dripping in is how much you will not only not take bs but how willing you are to start sheet if you need to. Conflict avoidance is middle class behavior. I know this drop dead gorgeous reeeech man that's pining for the most average a little overweight by western standards (which are world's beauty standard, don't gaslight yourself) probably a solid 3 on a good day because the left him mid date after he said something she didn't like, blocked him on all platforms and went on another date with some other guy a week later. I have seen the women that chase after him but she's the prize. Doesn't give one single F. Last I heard he booked a helicopter and she just- didn't go. Tried the guilt tripping got blocked. Tried the talking sheet and she just- moved on and made him look like an idiot. When I say the man is piniiiiiiiiiiiing like there aren't magazine cover models that would throw it back in every angle. She is the elite one here because she just doesn't care. She stands on business. Queen behavior. 10/10, I'm also very in love with her and have officially joined the competition.

You can't be elite not because you're broke and ugly but because you can't stand on business because you don't have business to stand on. A lot of you just- aren't anyone so you become everyone. Chameleon behavior. Because you are afraid of conflict. A cat scratching you knowing full well you are what feeds it is elitism. Cookie Lyon (EMPIRE) is elitism. The I will burn this building down if i need to is elitism. And I don't mean randomly picking up fights 24/7 that's being ratchet, elite women are polite and well mannered. I mean standing on business. I mean sending the order back when it's not what you ordered. I mean just not paying your stylist when they don't do what you asked. I mean stating- clearly- where your boundaries are and not taking a single step back. I mean when a man tries isht with you downright calling them out on it loudly instead of trying to hash it down or laughing your way out of it. I mean not trying to buy approval by self sacrifice. I mean letting that one coworker know actually no I will not be doing that because it's your job not mine. I mean not answering any work related calls on your day off. I mean taking all your paid leaves. I mean shaming back the people that shame you as loudly as they are trying to shame you- probably more. I mean crossing every line the second one of yours is crossed. elitism. Standing on business. Boundaries. Whis is where you end and I begin, you cross this I cross you.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Shoulder II

Hardersson x Daughter!Reader

Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: They're all hoverers

Sometimes, you think that your family can do no wrong.

Your mothers are loving. Your girlfriend adores you. Everyone gets on with each other, even though Magda and Talia pretend they don't.

Other times, you just want to live alone somewhere on an island with no other people around to fuss over you.

"Are you sure you don't want me to adjust your sling?" Talia asks, lips pursed in thought," I saw you wincing a second ago."

"I was wincing because my painkillers are wearing off."

After your win with Lyon, you had decided to travel back to Sweden with your mothers to finish off your recovery there. You'd told Talia to just return to Spain, to make the most of her days off from football before joining up with the Spanish team.

She'd refused and insisted on coming with you to make sure you're okay.

Nearly a week in now and all three of them were driving you up the wall.

"Should I get you more?" Her girlfriend asks and you roll your eyes, leaning forward to peck her cheek.

"You're sweet, Talia," You say," But I can't take anymore for at least another hour."

She pouts. "Is there nothing I can do to help? Do you want some food or something?"

"No food!" You hear Pernille shout from the kitchen," This is almost done!"

You rolls your eyes.

She's been slaving away on the stove since you woke up.

She'd already had breakfast prepared and lunch already prepped and ready to be cooked. She's making it now but she's also been making it for the past hour now.

You're pretty sure she's cooking dinner simultaneously but you're not too sure. That's the only reason it could be taking this long.

"Are you sure?" You ask," Not even a little snack?"

"No," Pernille says," Just a few more minutes."

You're a little worried, truthfully.

As a child, Magda had always been the one cooking the big meals and Pernille helped by doing little things like putting broccoli in the oven or taking the meat out when asked.

So, you're a little apprehensive at what Pernille's cooking now.

You hope someone gave her a recipe to follow rather than letting her make something that appeared in her head.

"Here," Magda says, appearing at your other side," To tide you over."

A handful of magic stars are placed in your hands.

You used to love these as a kid but they were only ever really bought when you went to the cinema because you never liked popcorn.

You don't know where Magda bought them in Sweden but you're grateful as you throw them into your mouth.

You think Pernille thinks you're going to ruin your lunch, like you're a little kid again that has eyes bigger than her stomach.

It's sweet, you think but a little annoying.

"Have some more," Magda says, shaking more from the bag straight into your hands," You need to keep your strength up."

"I hurt my arm-"

"Dislocated it," Talia corrects.

"-I'm not sick."

"Having chocolate doesn't have anything to do with sickness," Magda says," It's just making sure you have energy."

"You're hovering," You tease and Magda makes an offended noise.

"If I'm hovering then what's Talia doing?!"

"Hovering," You deadpan," You're both hovering."

"We're making sure you're okay," Talia says," You'd fault us for that?"

"No," You say," I fault you for being so overbearing about it. If I feel bad or if I ache or if I need some comfort, I can tell you. Don't you trust me?"

Talia's expression softens a little and she smiles.

"Yeah. I trust you."

"And Morsa?" You say, turning to Magda," Do you trust me too?"

Magda purses her lips, not responding for a few seconds. "I..." She sighs. "Yeah but you have to tell us, alright? No trying to deal with it on your own."

You roll your eyes. "Fine."

"Good girl," Magda says, a sot kiss pressed to your temple.

"Alright." Pernille appears out of nowhere. "Lunch is served!"

It smells alright, the soup that has taken her an hour to make.

You force down a spoonful.

It's horrifically salty.

"How is it?" Pernille asks.

You force a smile onto your face.

"It's amazing."

[moonlight-alexia]

pair of pests: lyon (II) ˏˋ°•*⁀ kyra x catley!reader, short fic/blurb

kyra cooney-cross x reader | 0.9k | second part to this, you tell harper you're moving away

For some reason the thought of telling Harper you were leaving seemed harder than telling your sister and your girlfriend. You had such a special bond with Harper, on multiple occasions she’s referred to you as her sister, and you were afraid that leaving England and moving to a different country would break that bond you had with her. 

You had already told Mini and Clara, you didn’t plan on telling them beforehand but Kyra accidentally let it slip on one of your weekly dinners at Mini’s. 

It was just another night at Mini and Clara’s. Another night where you and Kyra crashed at dinner time, not that either of them cared and Harper definitely loved having you both around, if she had it her way you and Kyra would live with them. 

‘So when are you gonna tell them?’ Kyra blurted, seemingly out of nowhere, after you’d all finished dinner and had migrated to the lounge.

‘What do you mean?’ Your voice had a slight warning tone to it, not that Kyra picked up on it. You had a plan for when you were going to tell everyone else, you’d told Kyra but now realising she definitely wasn’t paying attention to you when you told her. Kyra would argue that she was paying attention to you but it was your fault for trying to tell her while you were both relaxing poolside. 

‘That you’re leaving,’ Kyra said it so nonchalant but you panicked inside. Your head turned to make sure Harper, who was playing with her toys a little bit away from you all, wasn’t listening in.

‘Ky, not now,’ You groaned, rubbing your head with your hands. Promising to explain what Kyra was talking about once Harper had gone to bed.

You’re just thankful that you still get to tell Harper without it coming from someone else. That’s all you wanted, when you finally accepted that you were leaving the life you’d built in England, to be able to tell those closest to you without them finding out from someone else or social media. 

Lyon were already so good to you and you’d only just signed with them but it wasn’t unknown by anyone that you and Harper were like a little duo, a fan favourite duo. So when you asked if you could have a little Lyon jersey with your number and Harper’s name on it, they would’ve been crazy to not give you that. 

You had that little jersey in a small gift bag, there was also one for Koby but he was still too young to properly remember this unlike Harper. Harper still wore the Arsenal jersey you’d gotten her to wear that one match, so you hoped that she would like this one even with the news of you moving away for now.

‘Tiny!’ Harper greeted you by jumping into your arms, ‘My favourite sister!’ The last few years you’d gotten to watch Harper grow and you were going to miss not being so close to them anymore. You’d gotten Kyra to promise you that she would single handedly keep annoying them all for you.

‘Your only sister,’ You heard Mini’s voice yell from inside the doorway. Over the years she had just accepted that you were basically one of hers now as well, Harper would introduce you to everyone as her sister anyway. You let Harper lead you inside, you greeted Mini and Clara quickly before Harper took you to the living room where she was previously playing so you could play with her.

‘Hey Harps, I’ve got something to tell you,’ You spoke slowly, not too sure whether to beat around the bush or blurt it straight out, ‘Also something to give you,’ You held up the little bag in front of the younger girl, ‘Before you open it though, I have to tell you that I won’t be playing with Arsenal anymore so I won’t be around as much as I am for a few years,’

‘Where are you going?’ Even if Harper was semi playing with her toys, you knew you still had her full attention to what you were saying.

‘I won’t be too far, just in France. I’ll be playing with Ellie at Lyon,’ A year ago you and Kyra were looking after Harper and Koby when the topic of your contract came up between you and Kyra. Both of you knowing you only had a year left. Not knowing whether you’d stay at Arsenal or move on to a different club, all Harper told you was that as long as you still had a friend, someone from the national team, at the club playing with you then it didn’t matter where you went.

It was a sweet gesture, Harper just not wanting you to be alone or without any friends though you seemed to easily make friends and fit into any of the clubs you’d already been at, ‘I also got you this little jersey. Just like the Arsenal one but for my new club,’ You took out the jersey and held it up showing her the back. 

There wasn’t any hesitation, Harper put on the jersey as soon as you handed it to her. Running off to show everyone in the house while you followed behind, ‘I’m gonna miss you,’ Harper ran into you, wrapping her arms around you, giving you the biggest hug she could. The weight of your words hitting her that you were going to be in a different country, ‘But I’ll come visit and promise you’ll visit me,’ 

‘You couldn’t keep me away,’ You held up your pinky for Harper to link hers with yours. A pinky promise, one that you wouldn’t dream of ever breaking.

[lvnleah]

Secret Transfers | Lia Wälti

Based on this request :)

Summary: you and Lia have been dating for five years and Arsenal put in an offer for you. You accept it but keep it all a secret from Lia.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You were sitting on your balcony in Barcelona, a thin blanket was draped over your legs as you read your emails from your agent. Your contract with Barcelona was soon up and as much as you loved the club, you felt it was time for a new challenge.

You’d been with Barca for two seasons now and you’d won the league with them twice as well as the champions league.

Being from England, you wanted to go back to the WSL for many reasons, one being so you could be closer to your family but also your Girlfriend, Lia. Another was that the WSL was where you’d started off and you wanted to return there.

You’d been with Lia for five years and for all of them five years you’d been long distance. When you began dating you were with Lyon, living in France, and Lia had just moved to Arsenal.

For the first two years you’d take quick and cheap flights back and forth from France to England and Lia would do the same.

Then, Lyon let you go and Barcelona soon snapped you up. They offered you a two year deal and you were quick to accept it, Barca was a club you’d longed to play for and you finally were given your chance.

So in January 2022, you packed your bags and moved to Barcelona. Ever since then, you’d been living on cloud nine. Lia was at every game she could be at, even with the long distance and packed schedules, you and Lia always seemed to make things work.

Now, your contract with Barca was coming up for renewal and you didn’t want to stay. As you scrolled through your agent's long email, you read all of the different clubs that had put in an offer for you and what they were offering.

Man City had offered you a three year deal for £95k a year, Man United had offered you a year contract for £91k a year, Chelsea had offered you a two year contract for £94k a year. A few other WSL clubs, as well as some clubs in Europe, were listed but none stuck out except from the very last one.

Arsenal. £400k over three years, £133k a year. It was more than what you were earning at Barca.

The offer echoed in your mind. The club where Lia, your girlfriend of four years, played. The club that would bring you together, finally bridging the gap that had stretched across Europe for far too long.

You knew you’d be dumb to turn it down.

You instantly reached for your phone and dialled your agent’s number. It rang a few times before your agent, Sarah, picked up.

“Y/N!” She said cheerfully, “have you looked over my email yet? Some of the offers are good ones and—”

You cut her off. “I’ll take it, the Arsenal contract, I’ll take it.”

“You don’t want to think about it? Discuss it with anyone?” She questioned, “Chelsea and Man City are good ones too.”

“No,” you said firmly. “I’ve thought about it enough. This is my chance to be with Lia, to play alongside her, and be with my family in London. I can’t let it slip away.”

“Alright, then. I’ll finalise the paperwork.” She agreed, “I’ll get in contact with Arsenal and arrange flights for you to fly over and get a medical. I’ll start looking into houses for you too, any preferences?”

You shook your head, “it’s okay, Sarah. I’ll probably move in with Lia.”

You ended your call with Sarah before climbing into your bed. Excitement filled you like a child, you were finally going to be closer to Lia and your family. And maybe, just maybe, for the first time in five years you could finally live with Lia.

Whilst you were scrolling through TikTok, your phone rang and Lia’s contact filled your phone screen. You instantly picked up, last minute deciding to keep your transfer a secret from Lia.

“Hi my love!” She greeted as she laid in her own bed, “I miss you so much, how’s your day been?”

“I miss you too, it’s been great,” you smiled, “I looked through a few offers from WSL clubs.”

Lia’s face lit up, “and? How did it go? Any you’re interested in?”

You shook your head and sighed, “not really, love. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sure you’ll find something soon,” Lia reassured you, “if not we’ll make things work with you staying in Barca, we always do.”

The next few weeks were a whirlwind. You had many video calls with Jonas and his team at Arsenal, all of them promising not to utter a word to Lia. You needed a medical done so one day you flew into London and headed to the Arsenal training ground, luckily it was the day before Lia was playing Liverpool so she was travelling to her hotel with the team.

You passed your medical and officially signed the paperwork, you also managed to fit in some photos that would be used when your transfer was officially announced. A start date that was set for in two weeks was agreed meaning you had two weeks to pack up your life in Barcelona without Lia finding out.

That evening you got home late, your phone call with Lia was quick and short and you hoped that she didn’t suspect anything. The next week, you said goodbye to your teammates and had your last training session. All though you were excited to join Arsenal, you were sad to leave Barca behind.

One evening, as you packed up your flat in Barca, you phoned one of your best friends from Arsenal. You and Leah had always been close from a young age, you’d both met at an England camp when you were eighteen and had been inseparable ever since.

The phone rang for a few seconds before Leah’s face fitted the scream, “Please tell me you’ve got some news about your contract?”

“Well hello to you too, miss impatient,” you laughed. As well as Lia, Leah had been pestering you as well about your contract. “Maybe I have, maybe I don’t.”

“You’re such an annoying rat, you know that right?” Leah joked, pulling her hoodie’s hood up as she laid in her bed.

You sarcastically laughed, “Haha, do you want to know or not?”

“Go on then,” Leah sighed, “wait! Don’t tell me if you’re moving to Chelsea or even worse fucking Spurs because I’ve seen the rumours and if you–”

You cut her off, “Well good thing Arsenal put in an offer and I accepted it then.”

“Fuck off!” Leah smiled, “No fucking way! Are you serious?”

Flipping your camera round, you showed Leah your boxed up flat, “Well unless these boxes are for no reason then yeah, I am serious.”

“Does Lia know?”

You shook your head, biting your lip as you turned the camera back round, “no actually. I wanted it to be a surprise for her and I need you to help me.”

Leah's eyes widened, her excitement palpable through the screen. "This is incredible!" she exclaimed. "Arsenal, huh? You've always been wanted to be a Gunner. Lia's going to lose her mind when she finds out!"

You leaned back against the half-empty bookshelf, a mix of nerves and anticipation bubbling inside you. "Yeah, I thought it was time for a new challenge."

Leah's grin widened. "Alright, spill the plan. How do we surprise her?"

You glanced around your sparsely furnished flat. "I was thinking of flying back to London. You know, just show up unannounced. Maybe at training and I can catch her off guard."

Leah nodded. "Solid plan. We need some confetti and banners, maybe even balloons.”

You chuckled. "Confetti, banners and balloons? Leah, I’m not proposing!"

"Fine, fine," she relented. "But seriously, Lia's going to be over the moon."

You smiled, “Thanks, Le."

You and Leah spent the next few hours on FaceTime, you searched for flights before booking on for a few days' time. She also kept you company as you packed up your house and shared your excitement about how you couldn’t wait to be with Lia again.

A few days later, you boarded the plane to England after letting Arsenal know you’d be arriving. The anticipation bubbled inside you as you boarded the plane bound for London. You couldn’t wait to see Lia’s face when she realised you were actually there but a part of you was scared that she was going to be mad about you not telling her.

The airport terminal buzzed with travellers, and you clutched your boarding pass tightly. Your phone vibrated in your pocket, and when you glanced at the screen, Lia’s name lit up. You answered, heart racing.

“Hi my love,” Lia greeted, despite not being able to see her face you knew she was smiling, “What’re you up to?”

You quickly made up an excuse, “Oh I’m just doing a grocery shop!” You nervously laughed, praying the background noise wouldn’t give it away, “What’re you up to?”

“Just getting ready for training,” Lia said, “It’s a recovery training so it shouldn't be too tough.”

“That’s nice, darling,” You smiled, “Look, I’m going to have to go, I need to pay. Speak to you later, yeah?”

“Oh, okay,” you could hear the sadness in Lia’s voice, “I’ll talk to you later, love you.”

You smiled, “I love you too.”

The flight was uneventful, but your heart raced as the plane touched down at Heathrow. You collected your suitcases, weaving through the bustling airport. Leah had promised to meet you outside the arrivals gate, and you scanned the crowd eagerly.

You eyes soon found Leah, she was in a grey tracksuit with a baseball cap on. She jokingly held a sign that read ‘Welcome home rat!”

“Leah!” you exclaimed, hugging her tightly. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too, superstar,” she teased. “Now spill! How’s it feel to be an official Gunner?”

You laughed. “Surreal but I can’t wait to surprise Lia. Is she training?”

Leah nodded. “Yep, she’s already there. Let’s go!”

You and Leah drove to the Arsenal training centre, it wasn’t a long drive but it gave you and Leah a chance to catch up before the chaos of moving in with Lia began.

As you pull up Leah turned to you, “So the girls know, I told them this morning. Is that okay?”

You nodded, “Yep, as long as no one told Lia that that’s fine!”

As you and Leah made your way inside, you bumped into Beth and Viv in the hallway who were just making their way in.

“Oh my gosh!” Beth squealed, pulling you into a hug, “I can’t believe you’re here! Lia is going to freak!”

You laughed, hugging Beth tightly, “I missed you so much!” You let go of Beth before hugging Viv, “You both okay?”

Viv nodded, “We’re doing good, it’ll be nice to have you around. How’re you feeling about being close to Lia?”

“It’s honestly amazing,” you sighed, “I can’t wait to be close again.”

You, Leah, Beth and Viv made your way down to the changing rooms. The team had just had their lunch so were getting ready to go back out on the pitch, Beth was in charge of capturing the moment.

“You alright?” Leah said to Lia, distracting her as she walked into the room.

Before Lia had the chance to reply, you followed in behind Leah and stood beside her.

Lia quickly glanced at you before talking to Leah, “I’m good,” she looked back at you again, registering that you were there, “Holy fuck! What the fuck? Oh my god!”

“Y/N?” she breathed, dropping her left boot. “What are you doing here?”

You grinned, pulling her into a hug. “Surprise!”

Lia’s arms wrapped around you, and you held her close. “You’re really here,” she murmured. “I thought you were still in Barcelona.”

“I was,” you said, pulling back to look into her eyes. “But Arsenal made an offer, and I accepted. I’m officially a Gunner.”

“Wait, seriously?” she stammered. “Arsenal? You’re joining the Gunners?”

You nodded, unable to contain your own excitement. “Yeah, Lia. It’s official.”

She squealed, then tackled you in a bear hug. “This is insane! You’ve worked so hard, and now this!” Her laughter echoed across the training rooming, contagious and full of genuine happiness.

You leaned down and kissed her lips. Her lips were soft, familiar, and everything you’d been craving. It was a kiss that was filled with love and passion. Her hand cupped your cheek, anchoring you in the present. The kiss deepened, a silent confession of all the words you hadn’t yet said.

“Alright, lovebirds!” Leah said, fake gagging, “pack it in, save it for later!”

As the days went by, you settled into your new life as an Arsenal player. The training sessions were intense, but exhilarating. You pushed yourself harder than ever, determined to prove your worth on the pitch. Lia was your constant support, cheering you on all the time.

One evening, after a tough session, you collapsed onto the couch in your shared apartment. Lia joined you, her eyes filled with pride. "You're incredible," she said, brushing a strand of hair away from your forehead. "I've never seen anyone adapt so quickly."

You grinned, leaning into her touch. "It's all thanks to you," you replied. "Having you beside me makes everything better."

[samkerrworshipper]

how did it end? | arsenal x reader

warnings: suicidal themes, self harm, alcohol abuse, depression

um yeah lol feel grateful for this because i’m going to go ghost mode for the rest of the week! to the anons who have a problem with my writing, don’t fucking read this if it’s such a problem, in fact don’t read any of my stuff at all, my page is a better place without you.

Everything about the day had felt wrong.

Everything about your last month had felt wrong, really the whole year if you thought about it.

It had all started after a blindside move from your home club. Leaving Rsenal had been the worst thing that had ever happened, but you’d known it was coming after they’d signed Russo. There was only so much room for strikers on the team, and your contract happened to be out as the summer started, leaving you as a free agent.

Somehow, you’d ended up at PSG, which you still didn’t understand. There had been offers everwhere, Lyon, Real Madrid, Man City, Chelsea, Bayern, Wolfsburg, yet your manager had fucked you and gone for PSG.

It had been a clusterfuck from the day you’d arrived, the language barrier, your horrible mental state, the different playing structure, the weather, your lonely apartment, the lack of friendships, the lack of support.

It had taken a month before you’d crashed and burned, withdrawing yourself from both club and national team. You’d been lower then low, sadder then sad, completely withdrawn from your own life. You wish you’d stayed, you wish that none of it had of happened, because maybe life wouldn’t have turned out the way it had, maybe you’d be happier.

Your Arsenal teammates had visited as often as the schedule permitted, helped you move your whole life from one country to the other, but at the end of the day you were still hundreds of miles away from them.

You’d stopped answering their calls after a few weeks, too consumed with the completely inebriating struggle that you were going through in Paris, trying to stay true to yourself whilst being so far in the deep end of the pool that you were struggling to keep your head above the water.

After the call to Sarina and the call to your manager it had made more sense for you to return to London, even if it had pained you to do so.

Not a month after you’d packed your whole life away against your will, you were packing it all back up.

You didn’t like what happened in Paris, you weren’t proud of it, all you wanted was to get back to your house in St. Albans, but you were also terrified of what your ‘home’ looked like now. It wasn’t the same place it had been for the last 8 years, you didn’t have your bestfriends as teammates more, you didn’t have any teammates, you were unofficially, self-decidedly, retired. Sarina had begged for you to return, tried to reckon with you, but you were done, your love for the game had died in Paris and you had no desire to re-open the wounds that had been torn into your skin in France.

You didn’t tell anyone, you just hoped that you’d be able to avoid everyone for as long as possible, that you’d just be able to slowly become nonexistent and become forgotten by everyone from the past 20 years of your life, but you were aware that life didn’t work that way.

You were sick of all the pain you were going through, all the suffering that you were being forced to endure for no good reason. You didn’t want to talk to anyone about it, you didn’t feel like you had anybody to talk to about it, it was just you nowadays.

That was how you spent most of your nights, alone.

Alone with a bottle of your posion of choice sitting on your bathroom floor.

It was the only thing that made it all better nowadays, the feeling of alcohol slipping down your throat, typically with a razor blade in your other hand.

There was something satisfying about it all, something perfect about being perfectly intoxicated with a sliver of metal between your finger tips.

On this particular day, you knew you’d drunk to much, but it had all been wrong. You’d woken up with a headache, in your shower, the tiles of your floor stained with your own blood. It wasn’t a uncommon place for you to wake up anymore, but everything about it felt wrong. Your head was aching in a way it never had, your whole body was hurting and for some reason it all just felt off.

You went about your normal routine, pushing the temperature of your shower to as hot as it would go, finding peace in the blistering water falling down across your skin. Once your skin was bright red you’d climb out, falling into your bed to help to sleep off the rift that the hangover had left inside of you. Around midday you would climb out of your bed, slipping out from the covers to enjoy your few hours of life that your days now gave you. Sometimes it would be spent in your kitchen, trying your hardest to piece together some kind of sustenance, other days making and eating food was too hard. On this particular day, you forgoed your kitchen, instead opting to walk straight past it and out onto your patio, as per the usual london weather, it was pouring down, but you didn’t mind too much.

The rain was nice, it reminded you that not everything in life was pretty, your life certainly wasn’t pretty anymore. Rain was a reminder that everyday could be turned upside down just based off of something that was completely out of anybodys control.

After deciding it was a bit too wet to enjoy the outdoors you tracked your way back indoors, your bare feet creasing and digging into the hard, cold wood floors of your home. You eyed off your uncomfortable couch, the one that your manager had found on facebook marketplace which was the most uncomfortable piece of furniture you thought could be bought. It kind of felt like a metaphor for you, you’d been bought, and it had been the worst decision PSG had made, and you were destined, just like the couch, to be thrown away without anybody really knowing or caring.

You walked straight past the couch and back to your bed, there wasn’t any living for you to do today, it just felt that way, so you pulled the covers back over your body and enjoyed the moment of peace that your bed gave you.

It didn’t last long, your body relaxing into the mattress for a few seconds before the restlessness took over. It was like that nowadays, your body never able to stop. You figured it was probably a result of your body going from pushing its limits everyday, mentally and physically to you doing absolutely nothing. Previously, when you’d been in a depressive episode you would sleep all day, no matter what had been happening, but not anymore. Now, you had to drink yourself into oblivion before your body would force itself to relax, you could be as exhausted and tired as you wanted but your body just wouldn’t let you sleep.

Your brain convinced you that your mattress was the lumpiest mattress made, when you really knew you’d hand picked it for it’s comfort. You brain tricked you into feeling like all of your curtains were wide open on a summers day when really they were drawn closed. Your mind was playing tricks on you and you didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t.

That’s how you’d ended up on your bathroom floor so early, the overwhelming need for you to fix the pain becoming too much for you. With a bottle of vodka in one hand and your scared silver blade in the other you finally found yourself at peace.

The stomachache and burn of the vodka going down your throat didn’t truly matter, not when you were staring down at the thin criss cross of lines all over your thighs.

Some were healed, some were thick, some were thin, some were sore. They all told a different story. Thighs were the easiest, less arteries, good to hide, disguisable. They didn’t bleed the same way wrists did, they bled slow and painfully, a couple of lines never hurt you.

With the mix of last nights alcohol though and the new vodka mixed with the sight of blood you found yourself feeling woozy.

You hadn’t always been a cutter, self-harm hadn’t always been your vice. It had always been football. From the minute the ball was at your feet it had been football, and you wouldn’t of had it any other way. It had been your everything, football had been your life and until it had been taken from you, you hadn’t understood the true magnitude of what that meant. Your life had no purpose, no substance, nothing, without your game. Football had been the only thing you were good at, and you were extremely good at it. You’d given up on school in pursuit of your footballing career and it had been worth it, up until now.

Now your life was nothing but a big mess.

You wished it had worked out in Paris, you wished that you’d been able to farewell London and make a new home in France, but it hadn’t meant to be. All of your talent, all of your love, all of your passion, it was all for nothing now. Everything you’d ever done amounted to nothing, you were nothing without a pair of boots on your feet and a football in front of you.

You were never going to be the same again, it was all different now, and you were man enough to admit that you missed what you’d had. There were things that you lost in life, in the heartbreak and the struggles, you just hadn’t expected that you would lose the meaning of your life in the process. You had a hard time understanding why it had to happen to you, why you’d been the unlucky one. You paid your dues, you’d woken up at 5am every single morning to run drills, you’d worked your ass of and yet here you were, drunk on your bathroom floor wishing that you were gone.

Once upon a time you’d believed that a person would do anything for the thing that they loved most in the world, but you didn’t believe ion that anymore, love was supposed to be the most powerful thing on earth, and yet it had failed you.

It was funny because you could drink all of the alcohol you wanted but it never made you forget about what you’d lost. The hundreds of memories of football over the years, Arsenal, it had all been Arsenal. You’d been the kind of player where you’d always been one club, from academy all the way through to the senior team, you bled arsenal. Nobody even asked you what your dream team was, because it had always been Arsenal, you hadn’t had eyes for anywhere else. Yet you’d been thrown away like nothing.

You’d loved playing for Arsenal, when you put your jersey on at the beginning of every game you felt ten times stronger, qall of your bestest friends had been at Arsenal, your bridesmaids, your for life friends, and yet now it all felt like you were drifting away.

For the longest time you’d chosen the good options, the healthy options, what was right.

Now though, you chose destruction.

You sleep when your blackout drunk.

You drink caffeine late at night.

You stay awake until your eyes burn.

You always say yes to whatever vice your brain can think of.

You drink water instead of food and vodka instead of water,

You’re isolated beyond the point of it being okay, nowadays you spend more time with yourself then anybody else.

Maybe it was the vodka that made you feel particularly adventurous, or the scent of your own blood seeping across your skin, but whatever it was it somehow inclined you to reach for your phone which was rested on the tiles besides you.

You’d turned your notifications off long ago, as soon as the trade had come through.

You’d ignored everyone’s messages for the sake of preserving your own mental state, you couldn’t deal with the constant back and forth of trying to keep friendships which felt like had already gone.

You were more intoxicated than normal, or that was how you rationalized your behaviour, because there really wasn’t any other explanation to it, unless all of the emotions from the last few months had suddenly hit you a lot harder then normal.

But you were sick of being alone, you knew that, you’d been alone for far too long.

Maybe the alcohol had pushed that to the forefront to your mind, or you’d just become inherently desperate.

Your phone rang, the sound vibrating against the tile floor of the bathroom, amplifying it to your ears, the noise ringing out in your ear canal.

It didn’t take long for the ringing to cease, the sound of silence absorbing around you.

“y/n? Is that you?”

You blinked a few times, swallowing down the final remnants of your last swig of vodka.

“Hey.”

Your voice was shaky, from the days of not saying any words at all, you didn;t have any reason to speak if you were all by yourself.

“Hi.”

The silence stayed thick, obviously neither of you unsure about what to say.

“Are you okay, no ones heard anything from you in a few weeks.”

You’d vanished, for the good of yourself.

“I wish I’d stayed, le.”

Their was a deep breath exhaled from the other side of the line.

“I wish you’d stayed too, y/n.”

You couldn’t think of a single positive that had come from you leaving, not a single one.

“I wish I’d stayed now, I wish I’d been given the chance.”

You could fele the tears building up in the corners of your eyes.

“Me too, y/n.”

The tears were falling, the water falling from your cheeks falling onto the blood on your legs, the two liquids mixing together, the blood turning into red as they two mixed, blood did run thicker than water.

“I wish i’d stayed le, I wish none of this had happened.”

You didn’t want to know what the blonde on the other side of the phone was thinking about at this moment, you weren;t thinking about her, just yourself.

“Hold in there kid, for me, it’s all going to work itself out.”

There was no working it out, this was the end for you.

“I can’t do it anymore, I can’t pretend that i wish I hadn’t of stayed, that I don’t spend everyday regretting it, I want it all back.”

You pushed the blade down against your skin again.

Drawing the metal against your skin until the blood had begun to pool at the base of the two or three inch line.

“Where are you kid, are you in Paris? Do you need me to send someone to come and check on you? You shouldn’t be drinking like this by yourself, especially not in season.”

There wasn’t a season for you anymore, you were free, you could do whatever you pleased.

“I’m at home, and I’m fine.”

You pulled the blade up, and onto a new patch of skin, it was all littered with past scars, raised white lines.

“You don’t sound fine kid, I have plenty of friends in France, don’t make me get them to come and hunt you down.”

Her voice was an attempt at threatening, but it sounded more worried then anything.

“I’m not in Paris, I left after my contract was annulled.”

Annulled aka we’re letting you go without any pay but you still technically belong to us until the length of your contract is up.

“Annulled?”

You would have thought Sarina would have told the team, but apparently not.

“Haven’t you heard? I’m retired.”

Retired was not a word that you thought should fall from a twenty four year olds mouth, but here you were.

“Retired? Where are you, y/n?”

You supposed the alcohol might have been making your tongue a little bit looser.

“In my house, in my bathroom.”

Another deep exhale, you could just picture the woman pinching the bridge of her nose, maybe even frowning.

“Your house, where?”

You picked up the bottle of alcohol, taking a break from the razor blade to allow the vodka to ease back down your oesophagus.

“St Albans.”

The line went silent for a few seconds.

“You’re back home, since when?”

Another sip of your vodka.

“Couple of weeks, France wasn’t for me.”

France was the end of you.

“How much have you been drinking? You sound awful.”

You didn’t think you sounded that bad, but you also supposed a sober person would have a different perspective.

“Vodka, feels good le.”

Another deep exhale.

“I’m going to come over.”

Rustling on the other side of the phone.

“I’m fine, I’m good, you don’t need to come over.”

You were lying to both yourself and Leah.

“You aren’t fine, you aren’t good, and even if you want to tell yourself you are, I need to see you in real life because for the last months I’ve thought you were as good as dead. Are you safe, y/n?”

You didn’t know how to answer that question, you hadn’t felt safe with yourself in what felt like forever.

“I’m not unsafe.”

More rustling on the other side of the line.

“Do I need to bring somebody with me? Do I need to call an ambulance?”

You thought about it for a few seconds.

“I’m okay Le.”

The alcohol made you feel more okay then you had been, so you supposed it wasn;t fully a lie.

“You’re drunk at 6pm, I don’t think you are fine. I’m going to go get Viv, she knows how to deal with you when you’re spiralling, I’m going to stay on the phone with you and ask you some questions, okay, I’m walking out to my car now.”

You nodded your head, the realized that Leah wasn’t in front of you.

“Answer me honestly, are you safe right now, do you feel safe?”

You didn’t feel unsafe, you kewn by the looks of things, you were in a unsafe position. Alcohol and self harm wasn’t exactly the safest thing, but you felt at peace, and you knew that you weren’t causing any serious bodily harm to yourself.

“Depends on your perspective.”

You heard the sound of car doors.

“Okay, I’ll break it down, hmm? Are you within arms reach of something that could cause harm to you or others?”

Fuck.

“Yes.”

The sound of the phone connecting to bluetooth and keys in a ignition.

“What?”

You bit down on the inside of your cheek.

“Bottle of vodka and a blade.”

It wasn’t hard for you to admit, not when this had been how you’d spent all of your nights the last while.

“What kind of blade?”

You wished you’d stayed, you wished you weren’t in this position.

“Razor.”

You could feel the bile rising in your throat, whether it was alcohol related or from the cosntant questions.

“Alright, I want you to push them both as far away from you as possible, don’t look at them, don’t think about them, think about me. Now, have you caused yourself any harm?”

God, if you’d been able to stay none of this would be happening, none of it.

“Some cuts, le I think I’m going to be sick.”

The tears were full throttle, the sound of somebody’s voice that you’d missed so much in your ears and the vomit bottling itself up in your throat.

“Go to the toilet bowl, let it out.”

The taste of bile in your throat was never going to be something you enjoyed, the feeling of the new cuts along your thighs creasing as you crouched over the bowl stinging in a way that reawakened you.

The vomiting didn’t really stop, the continuous gagging being the only sound in your bathroom, beside the sound of Leah’s car.

Eventually, you finished, all of the clearish liquid mixed with your stomach acid sitting at the bottom of the bowl like a disgusting soup.

You laid down against your tiles, enjoying the cold that covered your skin.

Viv must have been picked up, because you could hear her and Beth talking in the background, beth, happy beth, beth who had once been your bestest friend.

“Bubba, you still with us, we’re just around the corner.”

You let out a groan in aggreance.

They continued to talk to you, allowing you to reply with different huffs and noises as they neared closer and closer to your home.

You ignored the hit of endorphins that you felt melt across you at the sound of your front door unlocking, Leah had kept your key, clearly.

It was a few seconds before your bathroom was crowded by the presence of your past teammates, the three sets of eyes all falling on you.

“Beth, go get a wet handwasher, Leah go get her some water.”

Viv’s voice was soft, but commanding, her body immediately gravitating to your own.

She crouched down beside you, grabbing you by the shoulders and pushing you upwards, bringing you eye to eye with her.

“It’s good to have you back.”

You burst into tears, you’d hated being in St Albans out of fear that you’d be rejected, that you’d be told to go back to France, and yet here you were being welcomed back with open arms.

“I wish I’d stayed vivi, I wish I’d stayed, I wish none of this had happened, I want it all back, I want my life back. I can’t do this life anymore.”

Viv brought you into her arms.

“I know liefje, I know, it’s going to be okay, we’re going to figure it out, but we need to get you safe first, and this isn’t it. You need to be in a better place.”

If Viv had a problem with the way thart you clinged to her clothes, literally holding on for dear life, then she didn’t brign it up.

“You could have called one of us earlier you know, when you were struggling in France. You could have called me, you know I’ve been where you are, I’ve moved and hated every single part of it, we could have helped you before it had gotten this bad.”

You shook your head.

“Nobody could have helped me vivi, nothing could have helped me, I was done, I’m done.”

Viv nodded into you.

“We’ve got to get you cleaned up, and then you’ll go back to Leah’s house, and then we’ll work on fixing this, okay, Kyra’s going to be so happy to know you’re back, she’s missed you, the bloody kid hasn’t shut up about you and she only knew you for a week. Kim’s been contacting everybody, trying to figure out where you were, her little protege, she’s been hardly functioning, we all have been, you can’t just disappear on us like that, you had us all worried sick.”

You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Really?”

Viv let go of you a bit, to get a proper look at you.

“Just because you’re forced to leave doesn’t make you any less Arsenal. You can take the girl out of arsenal but not arsenal out of the girl. No matter where you go, or what you do, you’re always going to be one of us.”

You could feel more tears beginning to form.

“I don’t know how it could have ended how it did vivi.”

You felt the Dutch take a deep breath.

“I don’t know either, but we’ve got you alright, we’ve got you now, we won’t let you leave, your staying with us forever, you took a year off of my life for everyday that you ghosted us.”

You looked down and around you, at the mostly empty vodka bottle, the blood, the scars, it all, and you didn’t know how it had all ended up like this.

“How did it all end vivi?”

Viv looked at you, just as lost as you felt.

“We’re going to figure it out.”

——————————————————————

just thought i’d end this with a little etiquette lesson for any anons xo

if you feel like dropping hate over this in my inbox… don’t.

if you feel like having a go at me for this fic… don’t.

if you feel like making personally rude arguments about me… don’t.

if you feel like having a go at for me for expressing my struggles with writing and sometimes making mistakes… don’t.

just don’t. go touch some grass, go for a run, buy a new fucking vibrator. i can guarantee you will get more pleasure from a good orgasm then dropping aimless hate in my inbox.

[b14augrana]

Scrubber

Your first time versing Lyon was the match of your dreams

Barça Femení x teen!reader

pt. 3 masterlist

Warnings: lots of happiness and not proofread as per usual … 😁

A/N: i forgot to mention that mapi's knee is 100% functioning and not crippled in this series!!!! i’ve decided to turn it into a series because i love our hay day obsessed reader so much.

also, reader takes alexia’s place in scoring a golazo because our wonderkid needs her time to shine and what better time to shine than in a uwcl final 🪄🪄 (peep my reference in the fic to the gif im so smart)

we need a nickname for little miss wonderkid so i dont constantly refer to her as reader so plz suggest some in my asks 🥹

You were way too nervous for the final to function. You regretted eating breakfast that morning because it felt like you were about to throw it all up.

Honestly, you were even nervous to look at the players. You stood timidly between Lucy and Irene in the line, secretly hoping you never had to leave the tunnel. You did not want the likes of Ada Hegerberg charging towards little 16-year-old you.

You glanced down at the ‘NV15’ written on your wrist in black. That forever-present question of 'What would Vidić do?' loomed in your mind.

He wouldn’t be worrying about anyone on the opposition. He’d just be worried about breaking the Brexit tackle world record and keeping everyone in white as far away from the goal as possible.

The officials at the end of the tunnel signalled to both teams, which meant it was time. As you emerged out of the tunnel, walking out to the sound of a stadium full of culers, you didn’t feel scared. The cheers from all around the stadium deafened you, but also made you feel an insane amount of pride.

As you stood beside your teammates, the Barcelona anthem blasted on the speakers and the crowd became a choir as they sung the anthem loud and proud. Your attention was in the stands, looking at all the people that had come to watch. You almost teared up when you spotted a little girl and her older brother wearing a jersey with your name on it. Your name. Just having a mascot blew you away, so seeing people you probably weren’t much older than, wearing jerseys with your name on the back, was a crazy concept.

It made you think about the future. It made you hope that one day, you’d grow up to be some little girl’s idol the way Vidić is yours.

“Get ready to shake hands, (Y/N),” Irene reminded you, noticing that you looked a bit spaced out. You brought yourself back to the present and nodded, sticking your hand out to shake the long line of Lyon hands.

When Alexia asked you to bend down and hold the match day pennant, it almost felt like blasphemy. Your mouth was slightly agape as she thrusted it into your hand. “But why me?”

“My knee is no good, it’s better if I stand,” she explained.

“But why m–”

“Just hold it, nena!” Alexia laughed, getting back in the line. You crouched down, holding the pennant in one hand and bracing the ground with the other as you smiled gingerly for the camera.

As soon as the photographer lowered his camera, you sprung to your feet and gave the pennant back to Alexia. “There you go, capi!” you said happily, motioning to Renard who was approaching with their own pennant to exchange. Alexia laughed and patted you on the back, mumbling a quick ‘gracías’ before turning away.

You walked over to the bench and shrugged your jacket off, folding it neatly for one of the team management to take to the locker room later on. With one last meaningful glance at your wrist, you ran onto the field to take your position. Irene was with you in the center and Lucy covered the right while Ona took care of the left. Jona had told you to be prepared for Mapi to come on, so you kept that in mind too.

As soon as the whistle was blown, you were relieved to see that Aitana, Mariona, Caro and Salma had already gotten things under control. That gave you time to scope out the Lyon front three and think about how to handle them.

You thought about what Lucy said. ‘Don’t get hurt trying to do extreme tackles.’

At the end of the day, it all came down to instinct. When Dumornay started running at you with the ball, her feet moving too quick for you to focus on, you knew what you were going to do next had to be purely instinctual. This wasn’t the match for calculated tackles.

It was a fearless tackle. It wasn’t even much of a tackle, actually; you had just gotten to the ground right in her path and made contact with the ball first before she even touched you. When she did touch you, the top of her boot got caught on your abdomen, knocking her over. It was the consequence of her own speed and momentum.

With the ball at your feet, you did what you always did best — kick it as hard as you could and hope it goes well. You must’ve hoped extremely hard or hoped to the right deity, because the ball landed right at Aitana’s feet. Not an inch in front.

With one touch, she had beaten her marker. When Aitana got the ball, it was almost always a goal, and this time was no different; before you could even register that your ball had been kept in play, let alone found a player of your own, it had beaten Endler’s desperate hands and hit the back of the net. The stadium has the loudest atmosphere you’ve ever experienced after Aitana’s goal.

She came running to you, her arms outstretched. You threw yourself into her, hugging her tightly. The rest of the team came shortly after, suffocating you two in a big team hug. You heard some muffled voices praising you and Aitana, but you were too stunned by how quickly it all happened to even register their words. There were many pats on your back and side hugs before the game reset and you were back to your centerback position, kissing the writing on your wrist.

“Aparejo increíble (Y/N), and the pass! Magnífico!” Irene said, pulling you close and ruffling your hair (to which you huffed and slicked it back down) before running back to her position.

You didn’t actually intend to make that pass, so was it that special? Aitana did score from it, but she just has magical feet.

The match had flown by, both teams only separated by one goal at the 90th minute. Lyon were desperate for a goal. Barcelona were desperate for another. Many changes had been made, including Mapi and Pina coming on.

You watched as Diani came down the left wing and somehow managed to beat Lucy and Mapi, which meant you were going to have to try tidy up at the back and not let Diani get to Cata, the last hope.

At first, you just jockeyed. You held her off and tried to delay her, which worked; her stepovers were useless and she couldn’t get past you by tapping and running… but then she did.

She took a touch just wide of you, giving herself heaps of space to dribble up to goal if she was quick enough to retrieve the ball. The big underlying issue was, your jockeying had led you two up to the box. You could either get a card and risk her scoring from a penalty or worse — not do anything and let her put it in. You would rather break your Hay Day login streak than let that happen.

As she lurched forwards to get another touch on the ball, it was like everything was in slow motion. Time slowed down as you extended your leg and thrusted your entire body forwards, cushioning your fall by sliding on your arm across the damp grass and towards the ball. You closed your eyes as she got closer to your face, hoping that if you didn’t see it happen, the collision wouldn’t hurt as much. If this tackle went wrong, it would be over for you, for Barça.

Diani’s opening had been a gift from God himself, so you prepared yourself to see her celebrating happily, the ball rolling into the net when you opened your eyes, but when you finally did open them, the ball wasn’t in the net. Diani wasn’t celebrating.

She was lying on her chest, scrambling to get to her feet. The ball was out, discarded somewhere near the barriers as a ball boy passed a new one to Lucy to throw in. Cheers had rung through the stadium upon your last-ditch tackle, but you had been too distracted to pay attention to them. You had been too focused on trying to execute the perfect tackle that would either make or break the game.

The only thing you guys needed was another goal to really seal the deal. Lyon were getting dangerously close, you needed a goal.

When Lucy had played the ball in, you moved a bit further up the field, watching the play. You noticed Caro receiving the ball, and then you noticed the absence in the middle of the box. You scanned for Aitana or Pina or anybody, but they were all marked by figures like Renard and Carpenter or in other words, brick walls that were not letting them in any time soon.

It was all, pure, instinct. You ran– no, sprinted up the field, flailing your hands in the air. “Caro, Caro!” you screamed, motioning to the middle of the box, begging for a cross.

The cross she delivered from the right wing was set to land just in front of you. You couldn’t reach it for a volley and you sure as hell couldn’t bicycle kick it in. It was travelling fast and getting nearer by the second, but that was the advantage.

Without a second thought, you jumped up. Your body was basically horizontal in the air as you flew forwards, forehead connecting with the ball. It was a shame you couldn’t watch it shoot past Endler, burying itself right in the bottom left corner. You flew into the net as well, and the only way you realised you had scored was when you sat up and looked to your side to see the ball. That’s also the only way you realised you were in the goal.

You had never stood up faster or yelled louder. You zipped past Endler and ran down the field towards the nearest camera. Your first goal of your career couldn’t have been more perfect, so you needed a celebration to match.

Aitana appeared by your side, and as you two ran side-by-side, you pointed to the people in the stands. It was a simple but meaningful celebration; it was the same celebration Vidić had once done, and you remembered it vividly. In fact, it was one of your favourite moments.

You ran to the corner flag where the rest of your team were, and you all fell into another affectionate huddle. Lucy squeezed your side. “You’re in the wrong sport, I think you’d do well as a professional diver!” she jeered, having to yell her words over the noise. You grinned at her and hugged the woman tightly right before being instructed to reset.

The ball had barely started moving again before the referee blew the final whistle. Everyone from the sidelines jumped from their seats and ran onto the field, and the people on the field ram towards your goal. Cata booted the ball into the air and jumped on top of the big hug, and then Pina followed. There was singing and dancing and flags being thrown and tears and hugs for days.

It was happy moment upon happy moment for everyone as it all sunk in — you had finally, finally beat Olympique Lyonnais in a Champions League final for the first time in your history. You had helped beat Lyon and make history with this team, and you had won your first ever Champions League and quadruple, but you had to give credit where it was due.

You knew if you never had a role model like Nemanja Vidić, nothing would’ve happened the way it did for you against Lyon.

Being a 16-year-old girl with such a fiery passion to defend and hold it down at the back wasn’t easy. There wasn’t many defenders that played for the badge the way Vidić did. The reason you loved him so much was because he exerted such an immense sense of pride and dedication to his club, and that was the type of defender you wanted to be.

That was the type of defender you had been today.

You couldn’t believe Keira and Patri when they ran up to you saying that the officials wanted to see you so you could receive the Player of the Match award once again. Your jaw was dropped and you went red as they basically dragged you away from the locker rooms and towards the officials. Your cheeks were still red from embarrassment as you took the photo.

You learned that you couldn’t just slink away into the locker rooms after such a big match, so you spent a solid 10 minutes talking to fans all around the stadium. It was a bit awkward for you at first because most of them were either as old as Alexia or literally your age, but you figured you’d have to get used to it.

The best part about the whole day was, when you eventually got back to the locker room and picked your phone up, you had reached level 300 on Hay Day.

As if one major achievement wasn’t enough.

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

This is so privileged and bougie and I don't mean this to sound boastful at all, but my trip this summer was so magical and full of memories and adventures that half the time I forget that I even went to Eras in Lyon while I was there because I just did SO MUCH and everything was a peak experience except for getting sick halfway through but that's apparently my European calling card

Anyway travelling is the best why can't we just do that all the time

[woso-story]

Until Next Time - Part One

Alexia Putellas x Reader - Part Two | Part Three | Last Part

The sun dipped low over the Barcelona skyline, painting the city in hues of gold and orange. You sat on the balcony of the apartment you shared with Alexia, staring out at the view that had become your sanctuary over the past three years. It should have felt like home. But now, it was filled with uncertainty.

Three years ago, when you first arrived in Barcelona, everything had fallen into place effortlessly. You and Alexia had hit it off almost immediately. What began as teammates growing closer evolved into late-night talks, shared meals, and a love that grew stronger with every passing day. A year later, moving in together had felt like the natural next step.

But now, as your contract with Barça came to an end and renewal talks faltered, the future seemed less certain. Offers from some of the biggest clubs in Europe had landed on your table—Lyon, Chelsea, Bayern. And then there was Portland Thorns FC, an NWSL powerhouse offering a chance to not only grow as a player but experience the league you'd dreamed of playing in since you were a child.

The idea thrilled you. Portland meant the West Coast, playing alongside your friend Jessie Fleming, and a whole new chapter. But it also meant leaving Barcelona, your team, and—most heartbreakingly—Alexia.

You turned at the sound of her footsteps, her silhouette framed in the doorway. Alexia’s expression was soft, though her eyes betrayed the storm of emotions she was trying to contain.

“Hey,” she said quietly, walking over to sit beside you.

“Hey,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, the two of you just sat there, the silence heavy but not uncomfortable. You finally broke it, voicing the thoughts that had been haunting you. “Lex, I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to leave you, but… I’ve always wanted to play in the NWSL. I feel like this is my chance.”

Alexia nodded slowly, her gaze fixed on the horizon. “I know,” she said, her voice steady but tinged with sadness. “And I want you to be happy. To chase your dreams. That’s what love is, right? Supporting each other, even if it hurts.”

Tears welled in your eyes at her words. “But what about us?”

She turned to face you, her hands reaching out to cradle your face. “We’ll always have this,” she said firmly. “These years, this love—it doesn’t just disappear. But sometimes… sometimes timing isn’t on our side.”

The decision was made in the days that followed. Portland was where your heart was pulling you, even if it meant leaving a piece of it behind in Barcelona.

The night before your flight, the apartment was filled with a bittersweet energy. Packing had been an emotional process, filled with laughter as you recounted memories of clumsy mornings, quiet nights, and the joy you had shared. There were tears, too—tears that you both tried to wipe away quickly but often failed to hide.

On the morning of your departure, Alexia drove you to the airport. The drive was quiet, the unspoken weight of the goodbye filling the car.

At the gate, she pulled you into a tight embrace. Neither of you wanted to let go. Her forehead rested against yours as she whispered, “You’re going to be amazing. I know it. And I’ll always be proud of you.”

“And you’ll always be in my heart,” you choked out, tears streaming freely now.

Alexia placed a soft kiss on your forehead, her voice barely audible. “Until next time.”

As you walked away, you glanced back one last time to see her standing there, hands in her pockets, watching you leave.

You both knew that this wasn’t the end—not truly. It was a pause, a chapter that would always remain unfinished but cherished. You held onto that hope as you boarded the plane, your heart heavy but filled with love.

The love you shared wasn’t over. It was just waiting—for the right time, the right place, and the right moment to find its way back.

[wosoamazing]

Broken

Summary: You break your ankle and Alexia takes care of you.

Warnings: Broken ankle, hospital & surgery, vomit (once)

A/N: I hope you like this, I'm trying to get a heap of my WIPs done, while I still have time. Also to those anons with the new requests I've added them to the WIPs.

It was the 25th minute when you found yourself tumbling to the ground from a badly timed tackle a Lyon defender played, you clutched at your ankle, trying to suppress your cries as you laid on the pitch.

“Y/N, are you okay? I’m really sorry,” a familiar voice said as they rubbed your back trying to reassure you, the ref hadn’t stopped play yet, but that didn’t stop her from checking on you. Eventually the ref blew the whistle.

“Number 12, I’d like to speak to you please,” you heard the ref say as the hand that rested on your back left, it was very quickly replaced by another though.

“Y/N, are you okay? What’s wrong?” Aitana asked you.

“Ankle, broken,” you managed to spit out, trying to hold back the tears that choked you.

The medics took one look at your ankle and decided it was most definitely broken, you refused the stretcher and so they helped you to the medical room, where an ambulance stretcher was awaiting you, you were helped up onto it and your ankle was placed in one of the weird orange puffy things to protect it, the paramedics spoke to your team’s physios filling out all the medical information and history forms.

“Bebita,” Alexia said as she flung open the door, her voice laced with concern, “are you okay,” you broke at her words, the flood gates came crashing down, tears streamed out of your eyes and all you could do was slightly shake your head in response to her question, she quickly moved to your side and held your head to her chest, as she rubbed your back, “I’m here for you Bebita okay, you can stay with me for international break and for as long as you want after, I don’t mind at all, I’ll take care of you, it will be okay, you will get through this.”

____

You wake up from surgery and can hear your sister’s voice, saying something about getting on a plane, the words I’ll just miss international break cause you to return to reality and speak up ever so quickly. 

“No Leah, you aren’t giving up international break. Go, I will not let you not go. I will call Sarina personally if I need to. Alexia said she would look after me and that I could stay with her for as long as I want, even once Lucy and Kiera come back, I will be fine.” Alexia smiled and took Leah off speaker but kept talking, you fell asleep again.

“I went to help Kiera and Lucy pack for you and got you some clothes to wear, they’re going to discharge you soon,” Alexia told you as she walked into the room, noticing you were awake again, you nod at her.

“Do you want help getting change?”

“Um, maybe” you said hesitantly. She just kindly smiled as she grabbed a pair of your shorts from the bag, carefully placing your casted leg in before you helped put your good leg in, she pulled them up to your knees and you did the rest.

“Put this on, I’ll turn around,” she said as she handed you a crop top, she was sifting for something in the bag while you put on the crop top.

She turned back around when you told her you were done, hiding whatever she was trying to find in the bag behind her back, before looking at you with a grin “I thought you might want this one today,” she said as she held up an arsenal hoodie for you to wear, it wasn’t just any arsenal hoodie though, it was your special number 6 hoodie that Leah had given you when you left, it was her favourite one too. You smiled gratefully at her, feeling very loved and taken care of in that moment. Mapi and Ingrid then walked in ready to take you home, Alexia sat in the back seat with you, she held your hand the whole ride.

Alexia’s house was large and quite fancy, Mapi and Ingrid led the way as Alexia stayed behind you making sure you didn’t fall behind, she helped you up the stairs and all three girls help get your situated in the spare room, placing anything you may want within reach, before they left, leaving you to sleep.

____

You woke up and needed to pee, you shuffled to the side of the bed, and carefully reached for your crutches, you brought them to your side, before going to take one in either hand to stand up. You didn’t have as stable a grip on them as you thought, and they went crashing to the ground, hitting your cast causing a wave of pain to flow through your ankle and a wave of tears to fall from your eyes. You then heard the sound of panicked rushed footsteps approaching before your door was flung open.

“Bebita, what happened?” Alexia said as she rushed to your side, bending down so she was level with you.

“I tried to get up and go to the toilet, but my crutch fell and hit my cast. I’m sorry”

“There is nothing to be sorry for Bebita, do you want me to help you to the bathroom,” you nod embarrassed. “Okay,” she said as she picked up the crutches and leant them against the wall, then placed her hands under your arms before she helped you stand up and handed you your crutches, she followed close behind you as you slowly made your way to the bathroom, and stood by the door encase you need her help. 

“Ale,” you shyly said. “Sí,” she replied cautiously. “Could you maybe please possibly help me stand while I wash my hands, and maybe also please flush.” 

“Of course, Bebita, do you want me to come in now?” 

“Yes please” you felt embarrassed needing help to do such simple tasks but Alexia was being super sweet, a side of her that you had always been met by, she was very kind to all your teammates and cared for them all, but there was something extra soft about how she acted towards you, always giving you that little bit extra. The team clearly could see that she held a soft spot in her heart for you. Some thought (cough cough Mapi) it might be because you remind her of her younger self and she was not welcomed with much kindness, love and understanding, meaning she would always push herself too far and she didn't want this for you, however others thought she just saw you as a little sister more so than a younger teammate, either way you didn't mind.

“Would you like to come downstairs and sit on the couch for a bit? I think Olga is making some food if you want. But only if you feel up to it and want to, of course.”

“Um, yes please” she nodded her head and walked with you to the top of the stairs, you looked down them, and they suddenly looked very daunting, and seemed like a mammoth task, maybe you just wanted to stay upstairs after all.

“Do you want me to carry you down?” it was as if she could read your mind, you nodded hesitantly before she picked you up and carried you downstairs, you leant against the wall as she quickly went up and got your crutches.

“Hauria de trobar que el nostre joc de crosses faria la vida més fàcil” (I should find our set of crutches, would make life easier) she mumbled to herself as she walked down the stairs.

“Yes, it would,” you said as you smirked at her. She was caught off guard, surprised at how quick you were able to interpret her Catalan, she had been teaching you for only a short while.

“Very good Bebita, go sit on the couch, I’ll just go get some things for you.”

You made your way into the living room, to find that the corner seat of the couch had been set up for you, there were many pillows, some blankets and even your plush ladybug, that the arsenal team got for you, you barely ever had it out and had only ever spoken to Alexia about it once, you felt warm inside knowing that alexia really truly did care about you. As you sat on the couch you noticed that on the coffee table there was a bottle of pain meds, a sick bowl, and a sheet with instructions on it, some parts were highlighted. You picked up the sheet and saw that the first highlighted section said that the pain meds may cause nausea and vomiting, which explained the sick bowl, there were also lots of other boring things you couldn’t be bothered to read.

Alexia came back with your apple ecosystem, placing it down on the coffee table, before she quickly rushed off to the kitchen with your water bottle. You heard her ask Olga if she needed help while she was in there who said no. She came back with your full water bottle. “Ale, can you sit with me please?” you asked her, as she looked like she was about to go away again, she smiled kindly and sat down next to you. You rested your head on her shoulder as you lent into her side, she placed one of her arms around you.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, she didn’t respond but placed a kiss on top of your head.

A few minutes later Olga brought you over a bowl of Paella, one of your new found favourite dishes. Alexia informed you that you needed to try and eat all of it so you could take your pain meds, that tasking wasn't going to be a difficult one. You were quite lively the first 15 minutes after dinner, however after 15 minutes you had quietened down, you lent into Alexia’s side, “Ale, I feel sick.”

“Do you feel like you’re going to be sick? Or do you just feel bad?”

“I don’t know,” you responded, sounding like you might cry, before you pushed your face into her side. Olga got up and placed the sick bowl and your water bottle next to Alexia on the couch, Alexia said a quiet thank you to her before she walked into the office. 

“That’s okay, do you want to lie down?” you shook your head, she felt the slight moment against her side, “just let me know if you want or need anything okay” you just hummed in response.

Another 15 minutes had passed, with every minute you felt increasing bad, to the point that you thought you might actually be sick, so you sat up, and Alexia saw your expression out the corner of her eye, quickly grabbed the sick bowl before saying “It’s okay Bebita, if you need to be sick, be sick, it’s okay” and after a minute of deep breaths your started to loose the contents of your stomach. Alexia rubbed your back the whole time.

“’m sorry” you said, as small tears slowly rolled down your cheeks.

“It’s okay Bebita, it's not your fault. Do you feel better now?” she said as she still rubbed your back, holding the sick bowl still encase you needed to be sick. “I guess,”

Olga had heard the commotion from the office and had walked in with two wash clothes, she handed one to you and handed one to Alexia whilst she took the sick bowl from her, you wiped your face with the cloth before Olga took it back, you drank some water before you decided to lie down, resting your head in Alexia’s lap. Alexia put the cool wet washcloth Olga had handed her on the back of your neck and you hummed, the coolness feeling nice.

You fell asleep pretty quickly, Alexia decided not to move you, as it would be difficult but also because the wood floors would be a lot easier to clean than the carpet if you happened to suddenly be sick again during the night. So she shifted her position to lay behind you on her side, she wrapped her arm around you and pulled you closer, keeping her arm there so you didn't roll off the couch during the night. It was quite a large couch though so the chances of that were low.

Olga walked into the living room to suggest it was bedtime, when she saw the both of you sleeping, Alexia hugging you and you hugging your lady bug. Olga quickly took a photo to send to Leah before she turned the lamp on and the main light off, and went upstairs to her bed to sleep.

____

It was the night before the girls would return from international break, you were very much enjoying living with Alexia and Olga, and the dynamic seemed more free flowing than at Lucy and Kiera’s so you decided to jump the gun and ask Alexia if you could move in.

“Ale, you know how you said I could stay as long as I wanted, and how when I first came you offered for me to live with you? Um, well, I was just wondering if that offer still stands.”

“You want to move in?” She asked, checking that she understood you right.

“Um, well yeah, I think, only if that is okay with you and Olga of course, and you can say no.”

“Of course you can Bebita, I would love that.” She said before she pulled you in for a big hug.

[danses-with-dogmeat]

Fallout Characters' Lover's Embrace Quotes -- Extras

(Original ask): Hello 😊 I absolutely adore everything you do for the characters you write for! You get the interactions and such perfect every time I read something new 💕 I have a personal headcanon, not full blown request if you don't want it to be, question for you. If you could romance the companions in New Vegas like in 4, what would some of their lovers embrace quotes be? I love how you think and can't wait to hear what ideas you have for any of the characters ❤ have a good day

So I didn't actually get any requests for these specific characters that I can remember, but I had this in my WIPs folder, and had a good time looking back on them, so here they are!

As always, if you would like me to add any characters to this, please let me know, and I'll be happy to 😊

Also, here's a link to my first Lover's Embrace Quotes post with the FO3 and FNV Companions.

Just a heads up, too, a bit of nsfw below the cut (nothing explicit, but definitely some implicit stuffs).

Fallout 4:

Codsworth: 

“Prepared to face the day, sir/madam?”

“Oh my, now that was exciting!” 

“Your hair, sir/miss. Allow me to fix it for you?” 

“Good morning, sir/madam!” 

“My, you are truly amazing, my sweet.” 

Deacon:

“Whoa, when did you get here?” 

“Up for one more round? No?... Yes?”

“Just another minute. Then we can kick some ass or whatever.”

“Gooood morning! And it is a beautiful day out in the Commonwealth, the weather is looking mighty fine in this– Oh, you’re up? Okay, just making sure.” 

“Up and at ‘em, right boss?” 

“Wow. That was fun.” 

Maxson:

“Sleep well?” 

“I’ll take that over morning drills any day. No, I don’t need you to tell Kells that.” 

“Head’s still swimming…” 

“Don’t make me get up, not yet.” 

“Damn… Incredible.” 

Nick:

“Can’t take my eyes off you….” 

“Ain’t I the luckiest synth there is?” 

“Say… where’d my cuffs get off to, doll? May need ‘em for later.” 

"Well, that's one way to get the coolant pumping." (I know this is already a line of his, but I mean come on. It's too good not to use)

“What do you say, about ready to go?” 

“That sure was somethin’, sweetheart.”

Sturges:

“Mornin’ gorgeous/handsome.” 

“Ain’t nothin’ better than wakin’ up like that.” 

“You really are incredible, you know that?” 

“What a perfect way to start my day… wakin’ up next to you.”

“*whistles* That was somethin,’ baby.”

X6-88:

“Good morning, ma’am/sir.” 

“Awake quite yet?” 

“Damn.” 

“Sleep well, ma’am/sir?”

“I… Didn’t know I could feel like that…” 

Fallout 3:

Mr. Burke: 

“I suppose there are worse ways to wake up.” 

“Care for some coffee?” 

“Just a moment more, sweet one.” 

“Ahh, you vixen/scoundrel.”

“Just turn over. It can’t be time yet.” 

Harkness: 

“Starting our day off right, I see.”

“It can’t really be time to get up, can it?” 

“Mm, good morning…”

“What’re you… Oh? Well, a few more minutes, then.” 

“Babe, have you seen my handcuffs?”

Sarah Lyons: 

“Up and at ‘em. Come on.” 

“Oh, good, you’re finally up.” 

“The others better not have heard us.” 

“Quit your groaning, it’s not that early.” 

“Best to have a shower after all that.” 

Fallout New Vegas:

Benny: 

“Ring-a-ding, baby. Time to rise.” 

“Easy there, squeeze. Save some for tonight.” 

“Can’t be time yet. Stay here awhile, lemme hold ya.” 

“Geeze baby, you wear me out.” 

“24-karate, pussy cat. Just platinum...” 

Colonel Hsu:  

"Right, then... Up we get."

“Well… that was an excellent performance. Top marks from me, private.”

“Rise and shine, love.” 

“Now that was worth waking for at this hour.” 

“Wish we had a few more moments…”

Joshua Graham:

“Just… divine.” 

“Care to pray with me this morning?” 

“Wake up, dear one.” 

“Praise be to Him who lights the sky…” 

“Ahh… still, your love heals me.” 

Ulysses: 

"Be slow, beloved. We can take our time."

“Another sunrise…”

“Time to wake.” 

“So… It wasn’t a dream. Hm.” 

*huffing* “Need another rest after that.” 

Victor: 

“Shoo, didn’t know you had that in ya.” 

“Where to today, pardner?”

“You look like I dug ya outta that grave again, hehe. Only teasin’.”

“Well, how-dy.” 

“Mornin,’ pardner. How’d you sleep?” 

Vulpes:

“Awake at last? Good.” 

“Mm. Expect the same from me tonight, courier.” 

“Ave, amica mea.” 

“Ah, to hear my name sound from your lips… A fine sound this morning.” 

“Expergiscimini. The sun has risen.” 

Yes Man: 

“Wow, Six, that was the best way to start the day!”

“I sure am glad to have you by my side.” 

“Rise and shine!” 

“What a great morning it is!”

“Boy, that sure was fun! Ready to make a difference today?”