#Home Team Win Football Predictions

[woso-dreamzzz]

Wolfsburg

Hardersson x Daughter!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You finally make it

After a few years at Barcelona, winning everything there is to win and getting married along the way, you leave the club.

It sends ripples through the community.

You got your start at Linköping, playing minimal minutes there but enough that you got Arsenal's attention. From Arsenal and your World Cup performance, you got Barcelona's attention.

A loan at Lyon and your subsequent contract extension and return, had everyone thinking you would stay at Barcelona for a lot longer. But you see out your contract, get married and decide to move again.

You and Talia were somewhat of a power couple at Barcelona. One at the front, one at the back. Barcelona was safe when the two of you were on the pitch.

But now you're leaving.

When you were younger, still a teenager, all of your contracts and the subsequent discussions went through Magda and Pernille. They had to sign off on them.

Now, they don't.

The announcement that you're leaving Barcelona happens in the winter. The club says that you aren't renewing your contract and that they thank you for your service.

Within hours, the community is in uproar from fans to players.

There was never any indication that you wanted to leave, you hadn't even told Magda and Pernille you weren't going to stay.

But you play out the rest of the season, showing everyone that Barcelona is letting you go begrudgingly. You are still leaps and bounds ahead of the second-choice keeper so clearly the club weren't the ones making the decision to let you go.

That's when the rumours start.

Practically every big club in the world has put out feelers for you.

There's a campaign on Twitter to get you to return to 'home' to Arsenal and another one saying that Linköping is attempting to get you back.

Familiar with you and your play style, Lyon tries to tempt you.

You get several lucrative offers from NWSL teams that you push away instantly. You have no ambition to play in the American league.

Lots of English teams try to snatch you up, Chelsea in particular but you reject their offer with a laugh. Manchester City and Aston Villa both send you fairly good offers and even Liverpool tries their hand to sway you.

The Bayern Munich coach is also very vocal with his plans to get you to come to Germany.

The funniest offer comes from Real Madrid as if they could tempt Barcelona's star keeper to dress in white.

Either way, there are so many rumours and so many choices that no one can quite predict where you'll be playing your football next season.

Then, on the first day of the transfer season, the video drops.

It zooms in on a picture of Pernille's Bundesliga winning team. She's holding the trophy proudly in one arm and you in the other. You're beaming at the camera in your own Wolfsburg jersey.

'Welcome Home' the caption proudly proclaims and the video cuts.

You step out from the shadows, the camera zooming in on the Wolfsburg badge proudly on your chest.

Magda keeps watching the video but Pernille sits there in shock.

You don't have to tell them anything. You don't have to tell them where you're going and what you're doing but Pernille is still blindsided as everything suddenly makes sense.

There were so many rumours and so many questions but Wolfsburg had never been apart of it.

Pernille feels stupid now that she thinks about it.

You'd told her once that you'd only consider leaving Barcelona for one team.

She feels crazy now for not knowing your plans just by the silence.

"Was it a nice surprise?" You ask, arms crossed as you lean in the doorway.

"You kept that quiet," Magda says with a laugh.

You shrug. "The clues were there if you just looked."

With so many big and small teams clamouring for you, it did look a bit suspicious now that Wolfsburg was radio silent on the idea of getting you from Barcelona.

"The jersey," Pernille says, sounding a little choked up as she stands," It looks good on you."

You smile at her, a small thing as she crosses the room to cradle your face in her hands. "Of course it does. It's Wolfsburg."

Pernille can still remember your first Wolfsburg jersey. You were tiny, still a baby and were more interested in sucking on the collar than looking at the camera Pernille was using to capture the moment.

But you'd cried when she tried to change you out of it. You cried and sobbed and screeched until Pernille put you down for your nap still wearing it.

You'd had a collection of Wolfsburg shirts as you grew up. They were without a doubt your favourite team, the only team you were willing to move away from your wife for.

You had never been anything but complimentary about Wolfsburg.

It shouldn't be a shock but still, as Pernille looks at you, she can't help but see the little baby you used to be, wandering around the Wolfsburg training centre in your shirt and shorts.

She can't quite reconcile that version of you with the version of you now, the greatest goalkeeper in the world by a mile.

You have quite the resume of great teams. You have so many medals and trophies and awards.

And now you finally get to play for the team that you've loved since you were a baby.

[meazalykov]

she was the golden girl

uswnt x (romantic) aitana bonmatí x (platonic) fridolina rolfo x uswnt!reader

summary: what happened in a world where reader plays in the 2023 World Cup after winning the 2019 World Cup?

warnings: tiny bit of angst and sadness, google translated spanish.

part two (part one here)

I remembered when I stood on the french pitch, surrounded by the deafening cheers of the crowd, sometimes I can’t believe that it happened. Tears welled up in my eyes as I hugged my best friend Mallory, threatening to spill over as a whirlwind of emotions flooded my mind. 

My hands trembled as I clutched the World Cup trophy tightly to my chest, feeling the weight of my team's triumph. The third goal in the world cup was scored by me, the youngest goalscorer in a Women’s World Cup final. The journey to this moment had been grueling, filled with sacrifices, sweat, and endless dedication. But looking back, all the pain and hardship were worth it.

Before the World Cup, the Champions League medal hung proudly around my neck, a testament to the skill and hard work I’ve displayed on the field. At the time, Lyon was the club of my life. I believed that I would’ve never left the french institution, extending my contract as much as I possibly could’ve. The memories of each game, each goal, each victory rushed back to me, overwhelming my senses.

And then there was the Ballon d'Or many months after both competitions, the ultimate recognition of my individual excellence. To be acknowledged as the best, only at the age of 19 years old, was a dream I had hardly dared to entertain. Yet there I was, being the second woman holding the prestigious award in my small hands, my name etched into football history forever as I stood beside Lionel Messi who received the men’s d’or. 

Surrounded by my teammates, coaches, and supporters, I felt a surge of gratitude and humility. This moment wasn't just about me; it was about the collective effort of everyone who had believed in my skills along the way. I will never forget it.

Four years later, It's 2023. I am 23 years old and still impressing the fans around the World. However, the scars of my ACL injury were still fresh, a constant reminder of the hurdles I had overcome to be here after the harsh 2022 year.

Playing for Lyon had once been a dream come true. I’ll never forget that experience. When I signed to Lyon from Portland Thorns at the age of 18, I was overwhelmed in joy. I needed that new challenge, and that challenge earned me the best awards, collectively and individually. But, the fallout from my December 2021 injury had left a bitter taste in my mouth. The club I had once called home had felt more like a distant memory as I felt forced to make the difficult decision to part ways and start a new life in the sunny Spanish city.

Now, I wore the red and blue Barcelona jersey onto the pitch. The transfer left me heartbroken, at first, now I felt a renewed sense of purpose. The road to recovery after my ACL injury in France had been long and arduous, filled with doubts and setbacks. Sometimes, I believed that my prime occurred at the age of 19, instead of the predicted 24-30 years old. Yet here I am, defying the odds once again to represent my country on the world stage in two months.

Sometimes the memories of my victories with Lyon and the United States lingered in the back of my mind, serving as both motivation and a reminder of what was at stake. The Champions League trophy I had lifted with Lyon and the World Cup I had claimed with the United States were testaments to my talent and resilience. But now, I lifted the Champions League trophy with Barcelona. 

After scoring the second goal of the final, with Patricia before me and Fridolina afterwards, the gold hung beautifully around my neck. It was my fourth time I've felt such a high amount of glory, but the happy tears still came as if it were the first. 

A month later, I am on a fourteen hour flight from Los Angeles to Wellington, New Zealand. As The plane soared through the clouds and I sat in my business class seat, my hands gripping the armrests tightly and my heart pounded in my chest.

“Y/n?” I took out my airpods when I heard the faint sound of my name coming from outside of them. I turned to my right and saw my teammate and captain, Lindsey, looking at me with a confusing look. 

“Hey.” I joked, pretending like my stress wasn’t visible for everyone to see. 

“Are you okay?” Lindsey asked. In my head, I debated on if I wanted to lie and say yes, just so I didn’t have to burden her with my stress. However, she’s known me for many years, the woman would notice my lie from miles away. 

“Not really. I’m just–a bit nervous.” I swallowed. The blonde girl nodded her head in understanding as she rested her arm beside mine. 

“That's understandable. Is it the competition that's bothering you? I mean– we are defending champions so we have a lot to prove.” Lindsey asked. I took a deep breath as my mind shifted to a particular person from my Barcelona team. 

“No– It's about–um.” I stopped speaking. I didn’t want her to cloud my head during the competition, as we both promised ourselves that we would play as rivals, not lovers. 

“Aitana?” Lindsey questioned, but yet finished what I would’ve said. I noticed my head as my face was plastered with sadness.

“yeah.” I mumbled. The Lyon midfielder looked at me with a questionable look, wondering if there were problems between the Spanish girl and I. 

“I mean– there's no problem between us. However we prioritize football first you know? we both agreed that during the competition, we wouldn’t talk much.. just so we can focus on this.” I ranted. I’m not stressed because of a possible match between Spain and the United States, I know that I’ll miss the shorter woman a lot. Also, what if we stop talking and a third factor might influence our relationship moving forward? 

“That's good that you’re prioritizing us– You shouldn’t feel nervous about your relationship because this will give you time to miss each other– things will go back to normal once the world cup is over.” Lindsey patted my shoulder in sympathy, I smirked as my nervousness started to subside. 

A month later, as I stepped up to the penalty spot, the weight of the world seemed to rest upon my shoulders. We finished the match against Sweden 0-0 and after extra time, we had to go into a penalty shootout. The stadium roared around me, a cacophony of cheers and chants from both sides echoing in my small ears. Nerves danced in my stomach, threatening to consume me with doubt and mistakes.

With a deep breath, My eyes focused on Zećira Mušović standing between me and the goal. She did great throughout the game and has the reflexes to stop my shot. Determination burned in my eyes, she saw it too. 

As I approached the ball with speed, the tension in the air was palpable but I couldn’t care. Every step felt like an eternity as my foot sent the ball soaring towards the goal. Mušović dove in desperation, but my ball went directly to the middle as she dove left. The ball crashed into the back of the net, eliciting a deafening roar from the crowd and from my teammates. 

My dimples on my cheeks showed as I am happy to make the penalty. Being substituted on the pitch after halftime, I tried my best to score but my shot on goal was overturned by VAR. Apparently, my body was offside. 

Now, my arms wrapped the bodies of Sophia Smith and Megan Raphinoe as I looked ahead at Kelley O’hara. My heart raced as I stared at her white colored cleats. She needed to score this, or else Sweden had the opportunity to win the knockout. 

She Missed. My heart dropped to my stomach as I looked at the Swedish players with rising confidence and opportunity. Hurtig took the shot and Alyssa blocked it over the line. This caused a debate among the crowd. Deep down, I knew Sweden made it. They’ve won. However, VAR was the only hope which would have proved me wrong. 

Unfortunately, I was right. Sweden emerged victorious in the penalty shootout, their celebration serving as a bitter reminder of the heartbreak that awaited my teammates and I. 

No, No, NO! I thought to myself as I felt the moisture in my eyes start to take place. Immediately, my mind did a flashback to the 2019 World Cup Final. Being 19 years old and happy as my small, yet muscular, arms held the heavy World Cup trophy. 

With a heavy heart, I broke away from my teammates and looked among the Americans in the stands. My shaky hands clapped to the fans in the stands, my facade of strength crumbling with each step she took. Cameras could capture my weak struggle to stay strong as the Swedish crowd rightfully celebrated. 

Turning around, walking back towards the Americans who were on the team, my knees collapsed on the grassy pitch, tears streamed down my tired face. This was the worst that the United States had completed in a World Cup. What went wrong? 

I wanted to stand up so badly, but I didn’t. Shame and Defeat took over my body which laid in the grass. What is my family in the crowd thinking? What are the USWNT fans thinking? What are my fans thinking?... my tears cried out more when I wondered what Aitana was thinking. 

After ten minutes of darkness in my eyes, covered by my hands. A comforting presence enveloped my body. I recognized the floral smell mixed with a tint of sweat. I looked up from my hands and saw Fridolina, my teammate from Barcelona and now my opponent who won the Round of 16. 

“You did so good, Don’t beat yourself up over this!” Fridolina spoke to me first as her thumbs wiped over my teary eyes. I felt comfort but a small amount of envy was inside of me, I wanted to win so badly. 

“Congratulations Frido.” The Swedish girl took her hands and helped me stand up as she gave me a tight hug. Aitana, Frido, and I are a trio back in Barcelona. In fact, she helped Aitana and I confess our feelings to each other. 

“Thank you! Just know that I am proud of you, she is proud of you too. Even if you aren’t proud of yourself.” The 29 year old said as my eyes stained her yellow covered shoulders. I knew she meant Aitana when she said “she”. However, I didn’t know where the Spanish woman was at the moment and what she was thinking. 

“Just go be-beat Japan. Okay?” I said through a crack in my voice. I found solace in the embrace of my friend. I might’ve lost but I am not a bitter person, now I want to see my club teammates have a good World Cup like I’ve once experienced.

As we exchanged jerseys, the voice in my head kept reassuring myself that I'll come back stronger than ever in 2027. 

Just a week later, most of my American teammates left Australia and went back home. However, my teammate Kristie and I decided to stay back. Kristies had a girlfriend who played on a different international team like I did, so we wanted to support them as they’re advancing to the semi-finals. 

Witnessing my Barcelona teammates play each other in the Spain vs Sweden match was intense. Standing beside Aitana’s parents, I wore a basic dark green t-shirt with 501 mid-thigh levi shorts. This is the first time I've met them as her girlfriend and they’re sweet people. We celebrated Spain’s win against Sweden and my heart would have exploded in happiness. My girlfriend will experience a World Cup final! 

On August 20th, after an intense match and a lovely goal from Olga Carmona, Spain won the World Cup! The feeling was bittersweet for me. I am happy for my girlfriend but subconsciously, I knew I wanted it to be me with the United States. However, I brushed that feeling aside since I needed to be happy for my lover. 

“Aitana ¡Estoy tan feliz por ti!” We both ran towards each other and hugged. I feel her lightly kiss the side of my head as I inhale her scent. Being able to feel her embrace after a month apart filled the small void in my heart.

“¡Esto es tan irreal, ahora sé cómo te sentiste hace tantos años!”  (This is so unreal, now I know how you felt all those years ago!) Aitana smiled. The smile on my face struggled to stay as a small frown, which I tried hard to conceal, plastered on my face for a quick second. I don’t think she noticed. 

“Lo siento por lo que ocurrió. En el fondo esperaba que fuéramos nosotros dos quienes nos enfrentaríamos en la final.” (I'm sorry for what happened. Deep down I hoped that it would be the two of us who would face each other in the final.) Aitana said as she understood my defeat in the Round of 16. 

“Aquí también. Sólo debes saber que todavía estoy muy feliz por ti, a pesar de mi derrota.” (Here too. Just know that I am still very happy for you, despite my defeat.) I said as I admired the goal medal that sat perfectly on Aitana's chest. She gave me a sympathetic smile before hugging me again. 

“¡Te amo!” Aitana whispered into my ear. 

“Te quiero más” I smiled back as I relaxed into her arms. 

<3

[trickphotography2]

First and Goal

Hangman hosts a college football day for the Daggers, only to have Payback bring a history making Angel. (Hangman x female Reader fluff, no use of 'you')

Completely self-indulgant college football fic after seeing Glen and Danny at the Texas and Miami games last week. Fic contains some trash talking of Miami and Alabama. No physical description of the reader, callsign is Syla (pronounced like Cilla) and she's a Florida State fan.

Word count: 1.5K

-------------------------------------------------------

Jake tore his eyes away from the television when the doorbell rang, huffing as the Game Day announcers stalled on making their prediction of who would win the Texas vs. Alabama game. Phoenix pushed away from the kitchen island where she and Coyote were grazing on the snacks he’d set out. 

“Come on, come on, come on,” he grumbled as two hosts picked Bama. Planting his hands on his hips, he pressed his lips into a thin line when Lee Corso called for the fight song to play, and the twang of Sweet Home Alabama started.

“Roll Tide, I guess,” came a sigh beside him. Jake’s gaze snapped to the woman, taking in her crimson shirt, Navy regulation bun, and furrowed brow as she watched the antics. 

“Hey, hey, hey! Oh no, wait a minute, wait a minute. That’s not the right song - play Texas’ song!” 

“Yes!” He pumped his fist as Corso put on the Hook’em head. 

“Thank Christ.”  

“Not rooting for your team?” he asked, facing her. She rolled her eyes, pointing towards the logo on her chest - a Seminole head.

“Might wanna get your eyes checked - garnet, not crimson.” A slight southern accent colored her words. “While I appreciate Bama for making Tim Tebow cry, their fans are insufferable. I’m ready for them to get taken down a peg. If the Longhorns are the ones to do it, I guess I’ll put up with more of the Gig ‘em nonsense.”

“Hook ‘em,” Jake corrected, and the smirk curving her lips made him think she knew exactly what she was doing. 

“Giving Hangman shit already, Syla?” Payback asked, tossing an arm over the woman’s shoulder. The woman grinned up at the pilot and raised an eyebrow. 

“I have no idea what you mean,” she laughed. Jake felt a shot of disappointment at the fond look that passed between the two. “But if you’re Hangman,” she added, turning her attention back towards Jake, “this is for you. Thanks for letting me crash.” She extended a bottle towards him - Wolcott bourbon, bottled in the bond.

“Thanks. Syla your name or callsign?” 

“Callsign.”

“You stationed here?”

“Soon, but I’m in town for the show.” 

“The…” he frowned, then nodded. “You’re a Blue Angel?”

“That I am.” The Blue Angels were the Navy’s flight demonstration team. Stationed at NAS Pensacola, they were the most high-profile squad that toured across the US. It’d made the news that they finally had their first female aviator on the team two years ago. “At least until the end of the tour, then I’m headed back to TOPGUN.”

“Oh, come on,” Fanboy grumbled, watching as the University of Miami quarterback was sacked. Across the kitchen, Syla pumped her fist and silently cheered while nursing her water bottle. Jake smirked into his beer. Fanboy and Syla had exchanged some good-natured shit-talking since Florida State and Miami were in the same conference and would be playing against one another later in the season. 

When she’d shared the story behind her callsign - Syla, short for See Ya Later Alligator - Fanboy had gone red in the face laughing as Jake chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” Bob asked. 

Heaving a sigh, Syla explained, “My team is FSU Seminoles. We hate the Florida Gators, and there was a Gators fan in FRS with me. Our COs got tired of us shit-talking the whole season and decided to punish us by making our callsigns have to do with our rivalry. So I’m Syla, and he’s Renegade after our mascot.” 

“At least it’s not Swamp,” Jake offered, thinking of how Gainesville, where the University of Florida was located, was nicknamed ‘The Swamp.’

“Yeah, that cost me 150 pushups.” 

“Run, run, run, run, run!” Syla screamed, jumping off the couch with Jake beside her. 

“Come on!” he yelled. When the player was tackled after a 40-yard run, he whooped and held a hand to Syla, who laughed and slapped his palm before leaning around him to high-five Fanboy. 

“Fuck. There’s three of them,” Phoenix grumbled. 

The afternoon passed into shouts of “He was wide fucking open!”, “No! Sit his ass down!”, “Where’s the damn flag?”, “Pass interference!” and “Find it! Find it!” During commercials, they quickly learned about one another - Syla was a Florida girl born and raised in Tallahassee. She’d graduated from FSU and attended as many games as possible during the last three years she’d been stationed in Pensacola. Touring with the Angels made it hard since she was on the road from March to November, but the constant travel was worth it to be the first female Blue Angel. She was looking forward to the stability of being an instructor at TOPGUN and not living out of her duffle bag.

Syla retrieved her uniform from Payback’s car at halftime and disappeared into the bathroom. “She’s nice,” Coyote told Payback as Jake stepped into his backyard. 

“She’s great. Pain in the ass perfectionist, but that’s what got her on the Angels.” 

“She’ll be a good trainer,” Phoenix added. “Have you seen that diamond maneuver they pull?” 

“So, how do you know each other?” Jake asked, glancing at Payback.

“We met in flight school and kept in touch from there.” 

“You guys…” Rooster cocked an eyebrow.

“Nooo,” Payback quickly replied, then shuddered. “She’s like a sister. A sister,” he repeated, pinning the other men with a stern, warning look.

A while later, the door opened, and Syla peeked out, her eyes meeting Jake’s. “They’re about to kick off.” 

“Be right in,” he smiled back. After collecting the empty beer bottles from his friends, he jogged back inside. Syla had swapped out her jean shorts and t-shirt for her dress white skirt, and white tank top. She declined another drink - she’d sipped a glass of bourbon earlier before switching to water, saying that she needed to be sharp for work later - but accepted a soda. 

The Daggers drifted in and out of the house, Payback sometimes joining them in the cheering squad, but Syla and Jake were glued to the game. When Texas threw a 39-yard touchdown to pull further ahead, Jake screamed and jumped around his living room, much to the amusement of his friends. Syla whooped and clapped, raising her hand for a high five. Their palms slapped, and his fingers curled around hers, giving a quick shake before collapsing beside her. His shoulders brushed against her as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, hands clasped and covering his mouth.

“We gotta head out soon if you’re gonna make the dinner,” Payback said as the game clock wound down. 

“Shit,” Syla groaned, glancing at her watch. Between plays, she quickly slipped on her blouse, lower lip between her teeth as she watched the action and did up the buttons. Jake couldn’t help but glance at her legs as she swayed beside him, their knees touching as she tucked in her shirt.

When the quarterback took a snap and dropped to his knee, Jake exploded off the couch, whooping as Texas won. Without thinking, his arms wrapped around a laughing Syla, lifting her off her feet as he celebrated his team beating the Crimson Tide on their home field.

“Syla, we really gotta go,” Payback said. 

“Fuck, okay, uh,” she said, stepping out of Jake’s reach and patting his shoulder. “Congrats on the win. It was nice meeting all of you. I’ll hopefully see you in a couple months if I don’t get reprimanded for being late for dinner with the top brass. Oh, and Fanboy - I’ll think of you when I’m in Doak for the game in November.”

Smirking, Fanboy held up his hands, his thumbs touching to make the Miami ‘U’ signal. She gave him a saccharine smile and did the same; all her fingers were down except her middle ones, so she flipped him off. “I’ll walk you out,” Jake offered, grabbing Syla’s bag from the dining room table. Payback narrowed his eyes at the other man. “It sucks you can’t watch your team play tonight.” 

“It’s fine,” she shrugged, “we played our hard game against LSU last week, and it’s an easy match-up this week. I’ll just duck into the bathroom and check the score every once in a while.” 

“What time do you fly tomorrow?”

“Gates open at 0800, and we’re the closer at 1520. Why, gonna come to the show, Hangman?”

“You never know,” he winked. “Heard the Angels do a pretty impressive diamond formation.” 

“18-inch clearance, wingtip to canopy,” she smirked. “If you come, I’ll be in the blue and yellow flight suit.”

“I’ll keep an eye out.” Chuckling, she took her bag, their fingers brushing and sending a pleasant tingling sensation up his spine. “Good to meet you, Syla.”

“You too, Hangman.” 

Payback paused beside Jake when she walked away and hissed, “No.”

---------------------------------------------------

Notes: The Blue Angels are based out of Pensacola and just welcomed their first female pilot in 2023 - callsign Stalin. I miss seeing them buzz the beaches and hear them practice in the afternoons. They tour the US and Canada, and the clips I've seen are phenomenal. If you haven't seen the pilot perspective of the tight diamond formation, I highly recommend it.

The 0800 and 1520 are military time, so it's 1520 is 3:20PM.

Read part 2, Overtime.

[alwritey-aphrodite]

The Worthwhile Fight

Chapter 6 of There’s Nothing Like This

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x fem!footballer!reader

Warnings: none :)

Word Count: 2.5k

Author’s Note: we’re entering the home stretch now folks - only two more chapters!

After the gala, things seem different, on and off the pitch. While you were winning games before, now that you were truly unified and working together seamlessly as a team, you were practically unbeatable. You’d started spending more and more time with Jamie, and when you weren’t together you found yourself thinking of him, and you rationalized it by telling yourself that you thought about Mackie all the time too.

Deep down, though, you knew it was different.

More often than not, you and Jamie spend your nights together, relaxing in front of the TV and letting yourselves unwind after all the training you do during the day. You’d been trying to be better to yourself, allowing rest days at the gym and icing your body and taking it easy when you need to, but most of the time, you’re continually pushing yourself past the breaking point, and you know everyone around you notices.

Sometimes, when he sees the way you favor your left leg and how you unsuccessfully try to wiggle out the pain in your foot, Jamie will gently take your feet into his lap, kneading and soothingly rubbing at your sore muscles until you feel like you could cry from relief. You can never seem to find the words to thank him, so instead you’ve started keeping his favorite snacks around and letting him choose the movie or show you watch together.

It’s like everyone around you knows something you don’t with the looks and glances you get walking into Nelson Road as you talk with Jamie. Whenever you enter the dressing room, you feel your teammates eyes boring into the back of your head, even as you get dressed and try to ignore the uncomfortable sensation and the heaviness it creates in your chest.

As a team, you continue to do better and better, winning match after match and soaring through the ranks. The team’s very first year in the league, and you’re predicted to finish first, despite what many of the sports columnists have to say. It amazes you, how so many people could continue to say nothing but negative things about your team when you’ve been winning left and right, knocking even Arsenal back to second place.

Thankfully, everyone at Nelson Road has been doing their part in keeping the positivity alive, shouting the praises of your team whenever they’re asked. If given the opportunity, the players on the men’s team would talk about you for an entire interview, doing whatever they could to counteract the never ending criticism.

“They’re all good players, some of them are better than my teammates,” Jan Maas says currently on your TV and you can’t help but to laugh at his typical Dutch bluntness. All of the boys have gone to bat for you, whether it’s on instagram or a TV interview, a quick comment to a fan or an answer to a reporter. Sitting on your couch as you mentally prepare for the day, you’re a little overwhelmed by the love you feel from everyone at Nelson Road.

Keeley, who has been grinding nonstop ever since she came up with the idea for a women’s team, has organized a photo shoot for you and some other women in the league, as a part of a campaign to get more young girls interested in soccer. As much as you coveted these match-free weekends, you’d do anything Keeley asked and anything to hopefully improve the public’s opinion on women’s soccer.

When you arrive at Nelson Road, though, you’re shocked to see a familiar car and a familiar man coming out of the building.

“Last I checked you played on the men’s team,” you quip when you’re close enough not to yell across the parking lot. Jamie jumps, then a smile overtakes his face when he realizes it’s you that’s talking.

“I was trying to do some training, got kicked out when Keeley needed to set up the lights and shit,” he tells you, coming to a stop next to you instead of continuing on his way to his car, “want me to stick around? I can drive ya home when you’re done?” It’s a little shocking, how sweet that offer is, and you’re almost brought to tears by his thoughtfulness.

“Jamie, this could take hours, go enjoy your Saturday,” you reply, despite the strange urge to take him up on the offer.

“Maybe we could grab dinner, when you’re done?”

“That would be nice,” and it’s a little shocking how much you mean that, so he gives you one last dazzling smile before continuing on to his car and you head inside for the photo shoot.

Once inside, you’re bombarded with hair and makeup and jewelry and your Richmond kit, all thrown at you with lightning speed while you try and introduce yourself to the players around you. It’s intimidating, to say the least, being in the same room with players you still idolize, and it’s hard not to feel like an imposter, hard not to feel like you don’t belong. The girls are all very sweet, and by the time the actual photo shoot rolls around, you’re all laughing and joking like you’ve known each other for more than five minutes.

There are individual shots and group shots, shots on the pitch and shots in the dressing room, action shots and posed shots, all with Keeley shouting encouragement from behind the photographer. Even though you all play on different teams, it’s impossible not to feel a sense of comradery with the girls, all of you hyping each other up during solo shots despite the fact that when next weekend rolls around, you’ll all be willing to do whatever it takes to win.

With all the positive energy and the whirlwind of the camera flashes, the afternoon passes quickly and before you know it, you’re being shooed out of the dressing room so the camera crew can take down their equipment. When you make your way out into the parking lot, hair still styled and makeup still near perfect, you’d been so focused on the photo shoot that seeing Jamie’s car waiting for you sends a shock through your body. Before you’re able to doubt yourself, doubt if this is really a good idea or not, you clamor into the passenger's seat, still riding high on the energy of modeling.

“You look nice,” Jamie says as you buckle your seatbelt, stealing a few glances as he pulls out of the parking spot, “how did it go?”

“Really good, I think,” you reply, trying to fly past his compliment and not stray into self deprecation, “everyone was super cool and Keeley seemed happy.”

“Good, good,” he adds before you fall into a comfortable silence and you feel yourself truly relaxing for the first time since you left your house. You’re not sure what it is, but something about just being near Jamie makes you feel calm, makes you feel like nothing could possibly go wrong. It’s very similar to how you feel when you’re with Mackie, but there’s something different that you can’t quite put your finger on.

“I hope this is ok,” Jamie says, breaking the silence as he pulls to a stop outside of a little pub near the Richmond Green. It seems quiet and quaint, and just by looking at the outside you can already tell the food will be your new comfort food while you’re away from home.

“It’s fancier than we normally do,” you reply, even though you’re already reaching to open the car door and already dreaming about the meal you're about to eat, missing the way Jamie’s cheeks and nose and ears tinge pink momentarily.

“Figured we could do something other than takeout, celebrate a weekend off,” he shrugs, acting nonchalant and as if he hadn’t sat awake in his bed planning this moment the night before, planning taking you out to a real restaurant, if only to show you his favorite spots around Richmond. You don’t seem to mind, though, and the second you walk into the pub and can smell the delicious food, you’re sighing in relief and Jamie can’t help the way his heart melts a little.

The pub is busy, but the older woman behind the counter simply nods at Jamie and he directs you to a booth in the back, one that’s more secluded than the rest and you wonder how often he comes here.

“Just let me know when you know what you want, I’ll go up and order and then Mae’ll bring it over,” Jamie says, fiddling with the corner of the plastic menu while you look yours over.

Feeling a little overwhelmed and out of your element, you set your menu down and turn to Jamie, surprised to see him already staring at you with a soft gaze.

“Just get me whatever you think is the best,” you tell him, and with the way he smiles at you, half proud and half embarrassed, you’d let him make every decision for you.

Sliding out of the booth and promising to be right back, Jamie leaves you alone with your thoughts, alone to study the room you’re in. You’re not alone for long, though, before three men approach your table with varying giddy expressions.

“You’re that striker? For Richmond?” The shortest of the three asks, and you ignore the swell of pride in your chest when he doesn’t specify that you’re on the women’s team: you simply play for Richmond. Nodding, you try not to grin as the trio turns to each other in excitement, looking seconds away from bouncing up and down when Jamie approaches the table again.

“Oi, dickheads, get lost,” he tells the group, and they hurry to scramble away, waving goodbye and chattering about meeting both of Richmond’s strikers in one day.

“It’s very refreshing to cheer for a team that wins consistently,” you hear one of the three men say as they disappear back to the bar, and you’re grinning when you look back at Jamie.

Despite all the time you’ve been in Richmond, this was your first encounter with real fans, with people from the community who supported you. It didn’t matter that you played on the women’s team, it mattered that you were a Richmond player, practically a god to the fans in the pub, and it made a little bubble of hope grow in your chest that there were more people like those men out there, who supported you through and through.

Almost as soon as the men leave and Jamie gets settled again, the older woman from behind the bar, who you assume is Mae, is bringing over pints and piles of food, brushing off your thanks with a smile and a wink and you’re already planning your next visit before trying any of the food.

“I might’ve went a little overboard,” Jamie says sheepishly as he surveys the plates that take up most of your table, “I just wanted to make sure there’d be something you like.”

Your heart stutters in a way that’s been happening more and more lately, increasing with the amount of time you spend with Jamie, but you ignore it in favor of digging into the mountain of food in front of you. It’s all wonderful, the perfect comfort food to put you in a good mood to start off your week, but you might enjoy the company more than the food.

After you’re finished and Mar waves away every attempt on your end to pay the bill, Jamie drives you home as you continue your meandering conversations from earlier in the evening, and you find yourself a little sad when he pulls up outside of your door.

“Thank you, for hanging out with me and for the great dinner,” you tell him as you gather your bags, the exhaustion of the day starting to hit you.

“We’ll have to do it again sometime?” It comes out more like a question, even though you’re almost certain Jamie was trying to sound confident and sure of himself, but you nod enthusiastically anyway.

Sending you on your way with a wave and completely ignoring your insistence to pay him for half of the dinner you’d shared, Jamie drives away and leaves you all by yourself for the first time since morning. You feel calmer, though, more open to spending the rest of your Saturday evening with only your thoughts for company, so you let yourself enjoy an extra long shower while you scrub away layers of makeup and hair gel and sweat from the photo shoot.

Stepping out of the shower, you’re met with a series of texts from Keeley, along with a few of the unedited photos from earlier.

I’m not supposed to share these - oops ;)

Smiling, you scroll through the few pictures she’d sent and you almost can’t believe it’s you looking back. You look powerful and strong and badass, like the type of player a little girl could look up to, could aspire to be. It makes you more emotional than you thought, and you sniffle a little as you thank Keeley for sending you the pictures.

It’s in that moment that it hits you that you’re doing so much more than playing soccer, you’re breaking boundaries and becoming a role model and being the person that you’d used to dream about being. The thought was always dormant in the back of your mind, that being a female athlete was always about so much more than sports, but staring at a professional campaign picture of you looking tough and confident, being there for little girls to look up to, solidifies those thoughts.

Feeling a little emotional, you settle on your couch with a fluffy blanket and some snacks, flipping through channels for something comforting to watch when you accidentally land on a channel with Jamie’s face staring down at you. The clip is from yesterday, because you remember the blue hoodie he was wearing, and the reporter must have stopped him as he left training.

You’re about to text him to let him know that apparently you can’t escape him and change the channel when you hear your name and a question that makes all the joy drain from your body.

“… is the female version of you?” The reporter asks from behind the camera, and your heart sinks as you wait for Jamie’s response because as much as you want to, you’re unable to look away.

“Mate, she’s scored more than me, she’s leading in assists this season, I think I’m the man version of her,” Jamie replies before he rushes away, looking beyond irritated and upset.

It shouldn’t surprise you, his response to that question, after all the support he and the other Greyhounds have given your team, but something about that specific question made your stomach drop. Hearing Jamie’s response, though, seeing the anger flash in his eyes on your behalf, elicits a completely different feeling.

Your heart is racing and your head feels fuzzy and it’s getting a little hard to breathe and you can’t think of anything other than Jamie and that’s when it hits you like an unexpected pass, like a tackle from an aggressive defender.

You’re in love with Jamie Tartt.

Tags: @andr0medafallen @whimsical-roasting @sokkigarden @hopefulromances @buckychristwrites @guccilongboard @onceuponaoneshot @presidential-facts @yepyeahuhhuh @allthefandomtherapy @gibby31 @buddyjuststop @ellietartt @cancvr @brianandthemays @sonyume @aiyaiy @captainfrisbee @dalebo3 @theloud-yet-quietone @imsoluckyeverythingworksoutforme @rockchickrebel @legobatmans9thab @curlypeter @lostinwonderland314 @yokolesbianism @jamietarttdodo @fan-goddess @innocentbi-stander @skewedcherries

[sylvies-chen]

ok since the last one blew up I figured I would do this again so

TED LASSO EPISODE 3 THOUGHTS:

diversity win! the silly ridiculous welsh man on your favourite football team is gay!

no but in all seriousness the colin storyline is really interesting, I like that they’re kind of playing this storyline as him not being out to the team and maintaining the sort of heteronormative facade that is expected in the very dude bro culture of football BUT without the internalized homophobia element this time which is normally included. like he doesn’t *seem* to be repulsed by his own sexuality in any way and his boyfriend is more than willing to sit with him for a night pretending to be just friends so I really like that they’re a healthy couple who seem to respect each other’s boundaries with sexuality

I also think ultimately, even if he slips up or is tempted to do something with this information, that TRENT WILL DO THE RIGHT THING IN TRENT WE TRUST

rebecca hinting at her psychic appointment and ted appearing immediately WORK WITH ME HERE SOULMATISM also noticed that thigh touch oop-

roy training jamie??? oh this is going to be comedic GOLD

it’s definitely bad that jamie’s right though. like, actually right about something for once???

zava is a much different kind of diva then expecting, in that he’s not so much a diva as he is a cult leader. uhh…. adorable! 😀

also wait MMM THE PSYCHIC TROPE OMG IMA EAT THAT UP EVERY TIME also guys. guys I can already smell the reactions to the green matchbook thing coming from miles away. we don’t need to worry! the matchbook was literally the first thing she mentioned of many things, it in no way means sambecca is endgame so we can all breathe. the family rebecca is a mother to is the AFC richmond family of course!!! and the shite in nining armour is most likely the guy that the whole of england has been calling names since his arrival, mr ted lasso himself!!

also OOH OMG SHE’S PREDICTING THE WATER SCENE WHERE REBECCA’S GOING TO FALL IN and the way she grabs rebecca’s hands when she says “but you’re safe” calling it now that ted will pull her out and make her feel safe sifjsifkskfkd 🥺

michelle dating her former marriage councillor is all kinds of weird and YES, unethical!! thank you to sassy for pointing that out! we love her for it

final comment: sam’s restaurant seems like SUCH a vibe oh my god I’m so proud of my baby for creating a community out of bits of his culture from his home, trying to bring home to england and celebrate with his richmond family ugh his big heart I can’t 😭

[nytb]

One Of Your Kind

A hopeless romantic lost in a world where everything seems transactional. Talented, tenacious, temporary. That was the best description of Y/N, an upcoming actress.

Playing the main character in am exploding Netflix Original series came with it's benefits. Invitations to the most prestigious fashion shows, VIP tickets for concerts, but most importantly - special treatment when it came to visiting Arsenal when Y/N so wished.

Realising how much of a football fanatic Y/N was came as a sweet surprise. Childhood fotos wearing the Arsenal kit, following the whole women and men's squad on social media, interactions with the players, a true gunner.

Y/N was known to visit the Emirates Stadium, but she was a regular at Meadow Park, having a soft spot for the women's team.

Having been introduced to Alex Scott, an Arsenal legend, Y/N had great company for the home games. The players got used to her regular assistance, getting post game chats with the star. Every encounter, everybody would end up fangirling on whoever they ended up talking to, but when it came to Y/N and Leah, they always managed to keep the chats down to earth, interesting, flirty but playful.

Over months, Y/N would bring her co-stars, friends, rumoured romances to watch Arsenal. Y/N's sexuality being mostly a secret to the public eye, fans would end up shipping their star with everybody she came in contact with. Leah wasn't an exception. The difference : Leah's fanbase.

Both groups managed to gel like they were supposed to merge into one, both sides cheering for the possibility of their favourite power-couple.

On a home game, the fandom's wishes became true - or as true as rumoured relationships get to be.

Leah's injury made her watch the games from the stands, but this time she was sat next to Y/N. Talking all throughout the game, cheering, screaming, complaining and shouting their lugs out together. The both of them seemed to have a great time, so much so, that a post match dinner became a requirement. This occurrence soon became a tradition, posting their evening shennanigans to their social medias.

After Leah's return from injury, Arsenal went on a winning streak, getting on a title chase against Manchester United. The gunners were the favourites, but when it came to facing the Red Devils, they had to show why they were backed by so many to win the league. Tied at 28 points with them and Chelsea - it was the gunner's chance to capitalise.

The match in itself wasn't as exciting as most had predicted, at least result wise. Sure, both teams getting their chances in front of goal, missing sitters, giving away dumb fouls, but it all ended on a narrow win for Arsenal. Some would agree that it was an undeserved one.

Post match, Leah was called for media duties. Y/N not far behind, hearing the Arsenal's captain defend her girls to the press "It wasn't a great match, but in times like these, we have to regroup, correct our mistakes and grow as a team" she declared before saying her goodbyes to the press.

"Not happy about the game huh" Y/N stated, keeping her eyes to the ground, knowing that Leah wouldn't be in a great mood after her team's performance.

"We are better than that you know" Leah seamed angry, but kept her tone very calm around Y/N "I won't let that take anything away from tonight though" the midfielder added opening her car door for the actress.

"Quite the gentlewoman I got here" replied, giving Leah a kiss on the cheek before getting into the midfielders car "So, where are we off to tonight?" Y/N questioned the Arsenal skipper as she entered the drivers seat "I'm feeling sushi tonight" she answered "How about we go to your favourite sushi place?", a suggestion that came with implications.

"Are you sure?" Y/N asked "People have been narrowing in on us you know" It was true, at some point, so many outings together started to make less sense when both chucked it down to being just friends. Especially when most of these outings were of just the two of them. "What could go wrong?" Leah asked, a mischevious look in her face.

What about a whole lot - paparazzis flooding the restaurants entrance as the outing became public knowledge. Going out with famous people sure got thrilling, but leaving places out the back door to avoid paps wasn't as glamorous.

"Ok.. in hindsight" Leah grabbed onto Y/N's hands "it might have been a silly idea" she joked, trying to lighten the mood from a night that was clearly turning sour by the minute "Why are we hiding this" Y/N questioned, pointing to the both of them. Leah left speechless. Was there a reason? They surely knew what they were getting into after the first couple of dates... right?

"Now that you ask..." the midfielder rambled "we never really talked about what we are" she struggled to get words out. Y/N on the other hand had enough courage for the both of them "Well after the what... 20 dates?" Y/N guessed, having lost the count of the sleepless nights spent in Leah's apartment "I kinda guessed that we were well into dating" she finished, clearly not scared about the consequences this situationship would entail.

"So you would just.. tell them that? It's surely not that simple" the midfielder clearly had forgotten that like everyone else, Y/N was a person first. "You do know that I am one of your kind right?" Y/N joked getting herself ready to face the media "Let's get into trouble shall we"

[taylorrepdetective]

Since you like to say you’re always right, tell us what is next. You say you don’t make predictions, but you actually do, even if you don’t call them that.

Ok so I’m absolutely not always right. There have been some really big things I’ve been wrong about and a lot of small things too. And what I learned from that is to keep an open mind, and when I’m wrong about something, to figure out why I got it wrong and shift my world view in some ways to try to understand and guess better the next time. But it’s not even really about being able to guess. It’s about understanding when things happen. It is fun to be right on a guess though, when that happens.

The biggest thing I’ve learned, and luckily I learned it pretty early on in my time in this space, is that trying to figure out the timing something big will happen is absolutely a fools errand. And another thing to avoid is trying to come up with the exact, specific way Taylor (or others in her cinematic universe) will do something to get a point across. Like I can predict she will try to get a point across (set up a timeline, create a narrative, shore up a brand point) but I cannot predict exactly how or when she’ll do it. I also can predict she’ll set something up but then she never does. That’s because I think of lots of options. Some happen, some don’t. So this is the kind of thing I’m often wrong about. But I see them and always try to present them as options, not predictions. And if one of the options I think of happens, I have already spent time thinking about it, so it already makes sense to me.

I don’t know what’s next. She could drop TS11 at midnight. She could break up with Travis tomorrow, or announce her engagement next week. But I do not think any of those things is likely.

So here’s the closest thing you’ll ever get to me making a specific, timed prediction, because to me it seems quite clear:

What I do think is likely is that her jet will go to KC, ✅she’ll go to the game on Sunday✅, and her jet will then leave KC sometime between next Tuesday✅ and next Thursday. Why? Because it’s a home game, and she likes to go to home games and get the exposure and publicity that comes with that. She is working really hard at becoming an icon in KC, seem like her relationship is very serious for those who want to believe it’s serious, and she wants to shore up that relationship by spending time with him, his family, and his friends (also KC icons - the Mahomes mostly.)✅ All of this is so important to the story she’s creating. However, she won’t stay long ✅because that’s been her pattern. She also seems to be establishing that she also has her own busy, fabulous life✅ (she’s bejeweled and he lets her be✅) and when he’s busy with his football week (generally Tuesday-Sunday) he doesn’t have much time for her and she has her own life.✅This gives her the opposite option of the relationship being very serious. In other words it gives her an easy out for it to end. And Wednesday is her birthday. So she’ll either stay till Tuesday ✅and we’ll see or hear about birthday celebrations Sunday night/Monday, ✅then she’ll head out for further birthday celebrations with her other friends and family✅, or her jet will stay through her birthday, solidifying the seriousness of the relationship. But she will leave KC.✅ And then she’ll probably go to the game on Dec 17 in Boston✅. Why? Because it is a short hop from NYC, she has a huge fanbase there✅ and can expand it and shore it up, the patriots are bad so a win is likely✅, but they are a very popular team, so viewership (publicity) will be high✅. After that? Well she’s likely to spend more time in NYC✅/Nashville. Then she will probably go to the Christmas Day game in KC✅. This is a huge opportunity to “take the relationship to the next level” by spending the holidays together ✅, something the public absolutely loves to see and will further fuel the “engaged by the end of the year, after the Super Bowl at the latest” fire. Hopefully we’ll get something reputation-related for new years❌, so the extra publicity will help with that. Additionally all of this corresponds with the Eras film being released to streaming, another huge money making opportunity for her, and her attendance is an ad for the film.

After the new year, there will be some huge games with high viewership. They will be playing for playoff seeding. Then they almost assuredly will be in the playoffs✅. She will go to those games✅, which have even higher viewership, and will give her more free marketing for reputation and eras movie and anything else we don’t know about. After that, it will depend on how deep they go into the playoffs. They are no longer favored to be in the Super Bowl, but it is still a strong possibility✅. We all now know she can fly across the world after a concert to attend an event (she flew to the US during her time in SA, planned to a second time but couldn’t because of the events in Rio, and flew to London for 24 hrs for bey). The precedent has been set for her to fly from Tokyo to Las Vegas for the Super Bowl. ✅There is no bigger stage than the Super Bowl (outside of the World Cup final, if you’re thinking internationally.) The free marketing potential there is something that would be very hard for her to pass up. And if Travis isn’t playing, Jason’s team might be, and they can go together to support him. Imagine the potential of travlor in a suite together with mama and papa kelce cheering on a retiring Jason❌✅ . And even if neither of them are in the game, they could still all go together and stand in a suite as a big happy family in front of an audience of 115 million Americans. Why wouldn’t she do this?✅

Will all that happen for sure? Of course not. But you can see the logic, right? Will there be other things that happen that I haven’t thought of? Most likely.✅ I don’t actually have a crystal ball. What kinds of things could derail this? Well there’s always the possibility of the black swan, but a more likely scenario is they lose again against a team they should beat✅ and/or Travis has another bad game✅. There is a real danger of people turning on her as a distraction ✅and I think they have their fingers on the pulse of this very closely. As long as KC keeps winning, and there’s a good chance they will win the rest of their games, all will be smooth❌✅.

Also I am not even thinking beyond February. I have one interesting thought about it, but it’s just too speculative to even mention here. But as we move through the next two months, I’ll get clues to be able to guess at what will happen after she goes back on tour after the Super Bowl✅. And if I’m wrong about all of this, which I may very well be because she is notoriously unpredictable sometimes, I will simply take it as a learning opportunity to understand her better.✅

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Runaway - Chapter Fourteen.

Wow, besties! You reached that unlock at speed! Something tells me that you’re going to be exactly the same with this chapter, too :D Thanks for your engagement as usual, and I hope you enjoy!

Previous chapters - Prologue  One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen

Taglist - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed

Words - 1,638

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

Ahhh, stories from respective pasts. A fantastic way to get to know someone, and be thoroughly entertained throughout. At that point in the evening, and with the storm showing no signs of abating, they were covering the school years. 

“So I ask her again, and she predictably tells me no, but by this point I feel like my fuckin’ bladder is gon’ burst, so I just said to her, ‘fine, you asked for this’, got up, walked over to her plant in the corner, and pissed right in the pot. She starts screaming at me, I calmly told her that she should have just let me go to the bathroom, but at least with my way, she got to see the fact I had a real big dick, so it was a win win scenario.  

“The entire class went crazy laughing, she reported me to the principal, but it was only the comment I made about my dick I got in trouble for. Turns out the principal’s wife was a urologist, and so because he knew how bad it was to hold a piss in, she got in deep shit for not allowing kids to go to the bathroom.  

“That ain’t even the wildest part of the story, though. I saw her in a bar years later, and gave her hell about what a tyrant she used to be. She just stood there and took it, then said that since I’d grown up to be such a knockout, I should let her make it up to me. I went home with her that night and fucked her until her bed broke.”

Hannah almost choked on her wine. “Oh my god!”

“What?” he laughed, his dirty chuckle filling the room. “She was a bitch, but she was hot!”

“I’d say I can’t believe that you fucked your former teacher, but it’s you after all.” She nudged him with a teasing foot, Manny grabbing her leg and tickling behind her knee, where he knew she couldn’t bear to be touched. “Get off me!” she cried, her giggles sending sparks of happiness through his insides. It had been a while, since he’d been playful like that with a woman.

“Oh and I bet you were nothing short of perfect at school, right?”  

She fought against him, kicking his thigh until he finally let go. “I was, actually. About the worst thing I did was let the fire alarm off to get a guy I liked out of a test. He never really noticed me like that before, until I walked past him when we were filed up outside, whispered ‘you’re welcome’, winked and walked away. I’d like to think that was one of my smoother moments in life.”

“And did it work? Not that you should have needed to resort to such, being as gorgeous as you are.”  

She nodded, dropping her head for a moment, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, it worked. We dated for four months before I broke up with him. Me and my poor impulse control struck, the impulse being that the quarterback of the football team asked me out, and I looked at him as a better option.”

Manny leaned forward slightly, arching an eyebrow as he lifted his glass to his lips. “And was he?”

“Nope! I never seem to learn my lesson there. Then again, the last time I acted on impulse, I got something wonderful.” He gestured for her to continue, watching her smile grow. “I got Lola.”

“And you didn’t end up married to an asshole either,” he observed, draining his glass, Hannah hauling herself up to fetch the second bottle from the kitchen. “Anything more there, or is he sticking to his restraining order?”

“I’ve had a few phone calls come through where no one talks, and I know it’s him. I block all the numbers he calls me from just as I always have, but he’s persistent, uses pay phones, I think at one point he was using cheap prepay phones as well. I just have to keep a diary of it, but it’ll be hard to prove it’s him unless he talks. It’s a nuisance, but what can I do?” Sitting down again, she topped up their glasses, setting the bottle down on the table. “I heard through the grapevine that he moved away recently, he’s gone up to northern Cali somewhere, so as long as he isn’t a physical presence in my life, I don’t mind so much.”  

“I do,” he stated with vehemence. “I mind him bothering you. If he ever does turn up again, you tell me, okay? Fuck the police, fuck the courts, you come and you tell me. He’ll leave you alone for good.”  

Her eyes widened a little. “You wouldn’t...” she made a gun motion against her head, her thumb pulling an imaginary trigger, “would you?”

“No! Don’t be crazy, of course I wouldn’t. But I’d make him believe I would.” That was only half the truth. If he ever physically came near his daughter in a threatening way, Michael would cease to breathe, although that wasn’t a truth Manny was quick to share with her mother. “And I’d probably smack him around a little, just for daring to fuck with someone I care about.”

He couldn’t help but add that, the wine getting to him a little. Anything stronger than beer, and it was essentially like giving him truth serum.  

“Manny,” she warned gently, reaching for his arm. “Please, don’t.” It took him a moment to answer, the feel of her hand upon him, her skin on his, even though so innocently placed there making a jolt run straight to the pit of his belly.  

He raised his eyebrows, recovering himself. “He’ll be fine, unless he breaks his restraining order. I saw it, when you broke down and revealed it all, just how fucking stressed out the motherfucker had made you. That don’t happen on my watch, Hannah.” Pausing, he leaned forward, reaching for her face, gently stroking her cheek with his thumb. “Don’t matter how unique it all is, our relationship as parents, what could have been, if the circumstances were different. I meant it when I said I care about you.”  

Perhaps he hadn’t recovered himself sufficiently enough, the blue of her eyes like cloudless skies he wished only to sail through, shining through the candlelight. His mouth felt dry, taking another swig of wine, his heart beginning to pound. No. He couldn’t act. He had to shove it down again, but the lure of her. Oh, the lure, his loins burning at the memory of how it felt, when he was with her. Fuck.  

In turn, the pull she felt to him was intense, like he’d lassoed her insides, as only an accomplished cowboy could, the rope being wound in with every statement that passed over his lips, every compliment, her foundations feeling shaky in the presence of him. Despite herself, her hand covered his, the light of her gaze meeting the dark of his, both paused, perhaps for too long... or not long enough... the wine clouding them, the memories of one another returning. As if that attraction had ever been far from the surface.  

The storm outside swirled with all the potency of what they’d both tried to push down, the sky illuminated as Manny set his glass down, taking hers from her hand, moving up the couch, his hands gripping her knees, opening them enough for his body to slot between them, the boom of thunder rocking the ground as their mouths met.  

Any reservations they might have had were swept away as they fell headlong down the rabbit hole, the tempting promise of what they would experience in their own Neverland of blissful sin tugging at them too strongly, dragging them down, until all that was left was them. There was no Carmen, no time between their only night together and then, no reason why not. Only them.  

A scattered path of kisses scorched her skin, the firm grip of his hands moving to pull at her vest, Hannah suddenly stopping him.  

“I... I look... different.” Her stammered words made him pause, searching her eyes, resting his forehead to hers. “I don’t look as good as I used to, since the baby.”

“Let me be the judge of that.” His kisses landed softer, his haste calmed as he slowly lifted her vest, pulling it from her body, her sweats next to go, Manny sitting back on his heels as he looked down at her, his gaze finding the nerves in her eyes. “This body is beautiful. You know why? It’s the body that grew my child safely for nine months, and if you think just because it’s a tiny bit different to how I remember that it’ll put me off, then you’re crazy. Now, lie back and let me show you just how goddamned beautiful I think you are.”  

She’d be lying if she said her confidence had been truly bolstered in the wake of his praise, no matter how lovely his words were, but still, she felt desired enough to pull him back to her, their mouths locked together, undoing his shirt as kisses of sugared embers grew hotter, the feel of his skin on hers torridly enchanting.  

“Wait.” Sitting up, he lifted her, Hannah wrapping herself around him. “I need more room than a couch has to really fuckin’ enjoy you, darlin’.”

As soon as the bedroom door closed behind them, so did the chapter of them entitled ‘Two parents trying desperately to convince themselves there was only a child connecting them.’ And lord, the chapter they would write together to follow, only legible until the flames that roared between them threatened to burn each word off the page entirely.  

[nicolesainz]

Was it fate or just wrong timing? (MM7 X AB1)

Mason Mount x f!reader x Alisson Becker

Author's note: I had to write this fit, otherwise I would have massively regretted it. Very unexpected duo but very necessary in my opinion.

Summary: The derby of the season. Manchester United against Liverpool in Anfield. All eyes will be in the game that will determine either Liverpool's success for the title or Manchester United's. Your boyfriend is the goalkeeper of Liverpool, whilst your best friend is Manchester's newest addition. Mason will try everything to prove his worth both to the team but you as well, even if that means bringing down your boyfriend.

Warnings: angst, sexual tension, heavy cursing, bad portuguese translations

"Going to wear Alisson's kit today?" Ben Chilwell ask me from the other line of the call. It's match day at Anfield and Liverpool is hosting Manchester United. I am in favour of all other derbies besides this one.

Seeing your boyfriend and your best friend clash is no fun. Even if it is in a professional level.

"Yes. It's Anfield. What else would Alisson Becker's girlfriend would wear?" I always wear a shirt with his name on the back and the number 1 whenever Liverpool is playing either home or away. Otherwise, I will cheer for United, only for Mason's sake. Him leaving Chelsea hurt me enough as a Londoner.

"Mason was wondering whether you'd show up with his jersey on. I told him that's impossible to happen, but he still wanted me to ask you." Mason knew very well I would always wear his shirt in other non Liverpool related games. I have always carried his name since we were little kids.

After I moved to the Merseyside with Alisson and me dating, Mason wasn't a big fan of the idea of me wearing some other footballer's name on the back. He didn't mind Ben, Reece's or Declan's, but when it came to Liverpool players and especially Alisson, there was a bitter expression on his face.

"He knows I always wear a necklace with his number on. Alisson is my boyfriend. I will cheer for them after all. I only cheer for United if Mason scored or assists."

"I know that y/n. Don't tell me. I just had to ask you. Give him my best if you see him after the game. Good luck to your man." Ben has been one of the people I grew very close when Mason was still in Chelsea. He has become like brother to me.

"I will, talk to you later Chilly." We exchanged goodbyes and hung up. Alisson had already left with the team and it was time I head down as well before the stadium was surrounded with fans and supporters.

I arrived a bit earlier than expected. I was welcomed by the smiles of the personnel and took my place on the box where all the family and close friends of the home players get to sit. The team was warming up for the last few minutes before the away team arrived and started warming up as well.

When Alisson realised I was the one sitting in the box, he waved frantically at me, with Robertson, Darwin, Luiz and Mo following along. At some point Klopp took notice of me and made his way towards the box from under the tunnel. When he reached me, he sat along to the next seat and greeted me warmly.

"Predictions for today's game?" He asked me as he was looking at the boys who were testing their penalty taking skills.

"I have a feeling it's going to be an easy win for the Scousers. What about you?" I barely asked Klopp about his predictions, given he never wanted to share them, saying that it could jinx the team's performance.

"I will trust your gut. You have been to all our matches so your judge must be on the right."

"What will those boys do without you Jürgen?" My voice was breaking as the thought of him leaving the club in a few months crawled back into my mind.

"They will succeed. And that's what I want them to do. I know they will do so. I also know that you will send me an invite to your wedding." He cheekily responded, catching me off guard with his statement.

"What wedding? Has Alisson told you anything that I should be aware of?"

"No my dear. But I can tell. The first few games after his injury have been some of his best ones. 4 clean sheets and dodged all possible kicks. I know that you must be doing something right to support and help him."

"He didn't take the injury news very well but I always was by his side to remind him of what he is worth. It's okay if we fall down but it is vital to stand back on our feet again."

"And then you're asking me if he's gonna marry you or not? Can't you tell that yourself? I can tell when he is upset and you have probably had a small collision, but in the end, you always show up to the games."

Klopp's words hadn't left my mind ever since our conversation. I have been with Alisson since he transferred from Roma to Liverpool. It has been 7 years. If I wasn't going to marry him, then who else would be?

The home team was gathering all their stuff to allow the travelling team warm up. They all exchanged 'hello's' and 'welcome's', before Mason looked up to the stands and saw I was already sitting there.

He excused himself from Marcus and Rasmus's group for a moment in order to come and greet me.

"Long time no see little trouble." His smile never failed to make my day. If Mason wasn't smiling then I knew something was wrong.

"Ready for gameday Mr. Ronaldo?" After being given the number 7 in the squad instead of his traditional 19, I adopted that nickname, given the reputation this number carries.

"Tad nervous but will get through it. How have you been doing?" His eyes were going back and forth between my eyes and the necklace. I had sworn that I would never take it off. He had bought me one with the number 19 on, but decided to change it for the current number.

"As fine as it gets. Excited to see you back in action. I want to see the Mason Mount we all know and love."

"Even if that means scoring a few goals against your beloved boyfriend?"

"Won't allow more than a hat trick. If he is moody when we get back home, you will hear from me personally."

"I will try and go soft on him. I don't promise anything though."

I know Mason always had the best interest for me. If there's someone I call family, that is Mason. I love this boy more than any words can describe.

Sometimes when I look at Mason I remember the boy who took care of me when other boys were picking me up in the playground. Or when we were together in school and everyone said that I hang out with Mason because of his footballing career, he immediately proved them otherwise in a friendly he played against them. He always had my back and I had his. Like I always will do.

At other times I look at Mason and remember who my first kiss was. Who brought me back to his house after getting fully drunk and taking care of me. Who consulted me after my first breakup. I sometimes wonder how different my life would have been if I had confessed to Mason that I was in love with him. I would now attend this game, rooting for United, hoping he scores many goals and ruins the joy of the Liverpool men. How I would run in his arms after full time and kiss him until I couldn't breathe.

As it seems, fate had other plans.

I do love Alisson, sometimes more than I could imagine. Who would have thought that on my first day in the Merseyside I would be met with the love of my life on a coffee shop? Looking back, I remember being exhausted after the early morning unpacking and all I needed was a coffee to keep me awake for a few more hours. As I walked into the coffee shop and stood in the line, there was an extremely tall man in front of me, wearing a Liverpool hat, looking at the options of different coffees.

He was struggling to explain the waitress what he wanted and as everyone else got annoyed by him, I felt bad for the innocent man, so I walked up to him in order to lend a helping hand.

"Point out to me which one you want, I will tell her."

He pointed his pick out of the many and I told the cashier what the man wanted. After he had paid for his coffee and made way for the rest of us to order, before I was about to pay for my coffee, the barista told me:

"No need. Your friend paid for the coffee."

He had paid a total strangers coffee after having done the bare minimum.

"You didn't have to pay, thank you so much. I will give you the money back."

I attempted to pull out my wallet but he grabbed my hand softly, not wanting to seem hostile, trying to avoid me from giving him the money back.

"I should thank you. I am still trying to learn the language and it is quite difficult." He smiled shyly as he was all blushed up.

"New in the city? Me too. Where are you from?"

"Brazil. But I used to live in Italy. What about you?"

"Brazil? Oh wow! That must be exciting! I used to live in London. I am y/n by the way. Thank you for the coffee once again."

"Nice to meet you. I am Alisson. And I thank you for helping me."

"Alisson the Liverpool fan. Nice. Planning on staying for long?"

"For as long as the team wants me."

"Wait, what team? Are you going to coach in an academy?"

"I will be a player. Goalkeeper."

And that was when it hit me. Didn't Liverpool sign a new goalkeeper from Roma? OH MY

And that's how Alisson and I met for the first time. That day we ended talking to each other until very late. God knows what we were talking about for so many hours. I was so captured by his intelligence and passion about things in life like football that I couldn't remove my eyes off of him.

After a few months of getting to know each other, he invited me to a game against Everton in Anfield. Before I went to watch the game, I visited the gift shop and bought a Liverpool shirt, asking for his name and number to be printed on the back.

A shocking turn of events was that he wanted to gift me his own shirt after the game, which he did and I still have to this day. He was excited when he saw the shirt I bought before the game but he didn't want me to spend 100 pounds on a shirt I would have gotten personally post match.

That night, when he drove me back to my house, I asked him to walk me until the porch. The sky was starry and a win for the reds was all I needed to gain the confidence I was aiming for. I was about to take him into a hug, when he leaned softly close to me and wrapped his arm around my waist as his lips were attached to mine, in a blissful kiss.

That night changed everything.

In just a few hours, the stadium was filled with passionate Liverpool and Manchester United fans, who were ready for some action and top class football scenery. My nerves were as heighten as anyone else's. I was rooting for Liverpool but I didn't want a certain United player to go home disappointed after making his comeback from injury.

The players lined up and the captains of each team shook each other's hands and wished good luck. Obviously in football you don't wish that to your rival and mean it. My eyes darted between Alisson and Mason and hoped for the best possible result.

Kick off in on.

Liverpool had been in possession of the ball for a handful of time, trying everything to get past United's defence, which wasn't very easy but at the same time, the three midfielders were trying to help out by tackling as much as they could. Mason was all over the Liverpool players. He disallowed Mo and Virgil some pretty big chances of getting Liverpool ahead in the score.

United's players had no match against Alisson. All their kicks ended either blocked by him or straight up in his embrace. Rasmus and Bruno were starting to get a bit frustrated, which made Klopp smirk a little bit, given that Ten Hag's nervousness was shown in the big screen.

I had lost track of time when I heard the referee blowing the whistle and my eyes immediately darted onto Mason's lying body on the ground, holding his knee, with Casemiro and Bruno fighting Andy and Trent.

If Mason had picked up another injury this would be vital for his career. Dark thoughts crippled inside my head as I remember the nights I had to leave Alisson home to drive all the way to London when Mason had been sidelined from Chelsea during and after his injury time.

Mason's mentality had taken a deep dive after his final injury during his time with Chelsea. His parents were unable to always visit him, so i would leave in the middle of work, finding excuses and driving to London so I could console him.

The referee gave a penalty to Manchester United. Fuck

The penalty moment was the most crucial one for a goalkeeper's performance. If you deflect, you are a hero. If you lose it, you are to blame. Same goes for the player, if the goal goes in, you will be celebrated. If you miss, you are to blame.

Mason got up from the ground and was asked if he was feeling okay. He seemed to be able to walk again normally and even asked his teammates if he could take the penalty. When I saw him take the ball in his hands, I feared for both him and Alisson.

I didn't Mason to miss. I didn't want Alisson to concede.

Alisson's focus was on the ball and Mason's foot. Mason usually aims for his penalties high so it won't be that easy for goalkeepers to deflect it. Ronaldo style. It is a risky tactic, it has benefited him a lot of times, but even cost him as well.

Mason took a few steps back and then run wide to knock the ball, which almost led to him losing his balance. I closed my eyes once he took the penalty, because I refused to see the result. When I heard loud cheers from the people around me, I realised that Alisson had caught the ball and was surrounded from his teammates, thankful that United wasn't ahead in the score.

I turned to look at Mason and his eyes were already on my expression. I wanted him to score, but not at the cost of my boyfriend. I would have been happy on the one hand if he had earned this one goal, on the other hand, I would have been gutted for Alisson if he lost the clean sheet streak.

'I am sorry' I mouth at Mason, who gave me a disappointed smile in return. I felt my heart tearing up slightly, with him knowing very well I can't commit to only one player tonight.

After a few minutes, it was halftime. The players all went under the tunnel and to their respective lockers. I took my phone out of my purse and I had 3 messages from Ben.

'The close up on Mason's expression was unnecessary from the camera man.'

'If he doesn't score, one of us will have him whining.'

'I can feel your nerves all the way from London.'

I giggled with the first text, realising how much Ben has been through with Mason and me during those years.

'That one will be me. I will tell him not to bother you. You have a game tomorrow, you need rest.'

'There's a reason why he loves you. Alisson is also very lucky to have you.'

Mason loved me? I felt my knees going numb as I was re reading the text.

I knew Mason loved me and I loved him too. He is my best friend. I admit, I had very strong romantic feelings for him once, but for the sake of our friendship and his relationship at the time, I had to shove them into the depths on my heart's abyss.

Being in love with Mason turned me into a version of myself where I was only craving for his love. No one else's. I had turned into a woman where I would get jealous even at his own girlfriend for no reason. Even a small kiss on the cheek would be a sign of hope for me. A hug of his would let me dream and believe that one day we would be together.

I wasn't willing to risk my relationship and friendship with Mason for feelings he couldn't reciprocate. It wasn't his fault. He had no idea. I was the one who stupidly fell for her best friend. And maybe that was meant to be. For us to only be friends. For better or for worse.

Meeting Alisson has been one of the best things in my life. He stood by me when we were both fairly new in the city, trying to discover the world. He would always text me 'good morning' in both English and Brazilian whether he was on his good days or not.

Falling in love with Alisson made me realise that the person you should have next to you, should be one you are not constantly jealous of. I found the version of myself where I didn't have to be guilty or afraid for anything. I became someone who could fall in love with someone unconditionally.

I don't know if I want to go back in time and change anything. Maybe falling in love with Alisson was a sign that what I have with Mason would stay put where it was. Best friends.

The whistle of the referee blew once more and it was time for the second half to begin. Mason remained in the main squad, despite whispers around me believing that he would be subbed off once the second half begun.

Things ran smoothly, with both teams creating big chances and goals being at the brink of being scored. Anfield was in one step from erupting when Mo almost scored a thriller of a goal in between three defenders but sadly hit the goalpost.

I could see Alisson being very frustrated and with time running out, a goal had to be scored soon. When the goal landed back on his feet, he pointed to Darwin who was close to the opposing box and kicked the ball high enough to land a few meters away from Dawrin's feet and in the span of a few seconds scoring an insane goal to give Liverpool the lead!

Every Liverpool fan, myself included, got up and started cheering for the goalkeeper who assisted this fabulous finish. I made a heart shape with my fingers, facing Alisson's way and once he noticed me, he did one himself, with Virgil and Robertson following along.

I was so proud of him.

Before I could sit down, I saw Mason nodding his head disapprovingly and refusing to look in the stands. He was about to start a fight with the other Liverpool players with how frustrated he was.

It was added time, when Luke Shaw had the ball in his possession and Mason was extremely close to Liverpool's box, despite being surrounded by all the defenders, he got the ball which escaped Alisson's embrace and ended behind the net.

Unfortunately, before Mason could celebrate a late equaliser for United, the referee ruled it out as offside. Disappointment in many faces of the players and especially the supposed goalscorer's.

Mason deserved this goal so much. He would have made a lot of united fans happy and his teammates alongside. I would have been happy for his massive chance as well.

And it was officially full time.

Cheers were echoing all around Anfield. All players gathered together to hug each other, before going to each United player and shaking their hands. Some of them were teammates in the national teams so it was only fair they showed sympathy.

To my surprise, I saw Alisson going to Mason who was sat on the pitch, giving him his hand to pick him up and congratulate on the effort at tonights game. Mason looked disappointed with himself. All of the family members were coming off the box to celebrate with the players, so I respectively ran to the pitch towards the two boys that were casually chatting.

Alisson was very sweet to allow Mason to hug me first. I wrapped my arms around my best friend and gave him the biggest hug. I was extremely proud of him in every instance. Ever since we were children I was his biggest fan. Whether he played in The Netherlands or in England, I was constantly his biggest supporter. I could feel Mason holding back tears and wanting to ease him a little bit, I gave him a kiss on his cheek.

"I am proud of you. It was a really good comeback Mase. Next game will be even better."

"Thank you y/n. This means a lot to me. I was so luck to have a portion of your support today. I owe it to this necklace and to the years you've stuck with me."

"You always have my unconditional support. Never taking that necklace off. Like I never had the previous one. I love you." I gave him a final hug and he very much knew that this 'I love you' had the meaning of friendship behind it. I would always love Mason. No one could change that!

After Mason exchanged his goodbyes with Alisson, I jumped into his embrace and took his face into my hands, landing a soft kiss on his lips. His smile was brighter than the stars above us, which almost brought tears to my eyes.

"So you are an on pitch footballer now besides goalkeeper huh?"

"Brazilians do it better. What can I say?"

"Okay Mr. Phenomenon we get it. You're a superstar."

"I am your superstar. That's all I know."

"I am so proud of you. You amazed me and so many people today. You are Liverpool's hero, Alisson Becker."

"Proud enough to call yourself my wife?"

His what?

I widened my eyes as the words escaped his mouth and with Klopp sneakily handing Alisson a small velvet red box, I was letting all the tears I had fall down to my cheeks. I was taken so by surprise. Wait, what that why Jürgen was talking to me about marriage? Alisson had told him.

He got down to one knee and in the presence of his teammates, his coach and a lot of remaining Liverpool fans, he opened his heart and said to me the most tearful and heartwarming vow I had ever heard:

"Seven years ago I didn't just meet a girl who helped me with my order in a coffee shop. I didn't meet a girl who was willing to pay me back after I had paid for her coffee. I didn't meet a girl who after a brief interaction with a stranger had told him all her dreams and ambitions. That day, I had met my wife. I had met a girl who I knew would love all my flaws and imperfections. It is silly to say that to was love at first sight but it really was. Everything this woman does is lovable and admirable. She has cheered for me in every possible game, home or away. From the home field, to foreign countries and from the television. Y/n, I love you so very much that no words in either English or Brazilian could sum it up. There is no one else in this world that I would rather marry besides you. Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

"You are my soulmate for life, of course I will" I softy said, with the tears of happiness breaking down my voice.

[sucrosette]

★— ⋆｡˚ [He Loves My Butter Lips]

For Day 25 of Carry on Countdown 23, Carnival/Faire. @carryon-countdown

Simon Snow hates his boyfriend and his boyfriend's ego and all the plushies he's won for him so, so bloody bad (but not really, not really at all).

Rated T for... honestly I think Simon is cursing every other sentence in this.

⋆｡˚

The best part about the faire is the bloody food. The cheese sticks, the corndogs on sticks, pickles on sticks, the spun sugar on sticks, in certain parts of the world (this part of the world!!) the fried butter on sticks, everything fried and everything on sticks. It’s divine. I’m going to die of a heart attack at one of these godforsaken carnival-faire-decadence-things, but Merlin and Morgana both, it will have been bloody worth it. The best bloody thing is the fucking food. Don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise. If they think otherwise, they’re bloody daft.

Now some people might claim having a boyfriend who could hack all the carnival games would be the best bloody part, but their boyfriends are not Basilton fucking Grimm-Pitch, are they? No, the honour of calling that one a boyfriend is mine, and he’s too bloody smug about it.

Not to say that I don’t love and cherish each and every one of those ridiculously large plushies, and not to say that they don’t each get a name and a little home in our littler apartment, but does Baz have to bloody fucking smirk about it every time he predicts right? Does he have to be right so bloody often?

He’s such a sodding twat about it, I hate him. (I love him. He’s perfect. Never bloody tell him that though, his ego is killing me already.)

Presently, I have four fucking plushies squished in between the space between my arms and my chest and each of them is the size of my torso. “Basil!” I can see him heading to win me a fifth, “Basil, I swear, I literally cannot hold another sodding plush bear, please do not.”

I just want that fried butter, but how will I eat the fried butter without hands to hold the stick required to eat the fried butter? Baz probably wouldn’t even let me eat the fried butter anyway. He should let me eat the fried butter, it’s not like I won’t go at a stick occasionally anyway. He’s trying to train me out of it, the ninny. As if I want to learn better than eating sticks of butter.

He’s already out of bloody earshot.

I huff down at my growing collection of plushies. Mr. Bun, Mrs. Bear, Sir Froggington the Fourth, and the Little Duck that Could will surely have another companion soon. The Little Duck that Could is in fact the largest of the plushes, but he has small animal energy. I think he might also technically be a swan, but it’s too late, he’s already been named. It’s sticking.

There’s nothing to be done about it, I suppose. I faithfully trudge after Basil and pray he’s wrong about his skills in this carnival game, just this once, and then I see what it sodding is.

Bloody fucking football.

No wonder he’s practically whooping about it. Well, as much as Baz might whoop. It’s basically just an overly enthused grin, the smile showing the in the curve of his cheek, a not-quite-there, but not-quite-not-there dimple, his eyes sparkling. I can’t very well tell him not to kick footballs about, it’s Baz Pitch, king of the pitch, it’s in his sodding name.

I find a nearby bench to sit my hindquarters on and plop myself down. At least from here I can partake in a particular favourite activity of my own: staring at Baz’s ass while he kicks bloody footballs about.

It’s been three whole years since Watford and 4 years since he played on any kind of regular team, and he has not lost his form. I rest my chin atop Mrs. Bear’s head and sigh. He’s so bloody handsome it hurts to look at sometimes. I think I feel myself losing braincells I turn so braindead just from the man bloody existing.

I hate him so bloody bad. (He’s so perfect I forget how to speak. He’s so handsome I forget how to breathe. I love him so badly it aches whenever he’s not around. Sometimes I think I’m going to be sick from how insane he makes me.)

He’s beaten the game in a solid minute, he’s such a fucking wanker, I love him so fucking much it’s ridiculous. He’s already walking his way back to me with a giant fucking pink kitten plush in his arms, with ridiculous white patches over it’s eyes, and then he does something that makes me love him some impossible amount more.

A small girl, no more than six or seven, I think, had apparently had shit luck with the game, because she’s looking up at Baz with the biggest pleading eyes I have ever seen on a child. He’s kneeling down to talk to her now and the girl’s adult, I think maybe an older sister or very young aunt, is waving her head, like Basil doesn’t have to do whatever he’s thinking about doing, but Basil only shrugs and hands over the plush like it was nothing.

Oh, he’s so smug and soft and kind and perfect, how bloody dare he.

I am going to snog him so sodding hard when we get home.

When he saunters over to me, he shrugs again, as if to say ‘what more can you do?’ but I still have every intention to rib him about it.

“Did you really just give away Sofia the Third of her Name without asking me?”

Baz perks a brow at me, relieving me of Mr. Bun’s company (how dare he?? We have been bonding??) and my arms thank him for it. “I can win you another if you like.”

“No, no,” I sniff dramatically and I can tell Basil knows I’m just taking the piss, “She seemed nice and not at all like an evil child. You can make it up to me in other ways.”

“And how might I appease his royal plush collector?” Basil doesn’t hesitate to rib me right back and I make a show of thinking about it, looping my arm around his and dragging him away from the games and towards the intoxicating smells of fried food.

“Well, you can start by telling me the little miss’s sob story,” I answer and lean myself a little more against my prick of an overconfident boyfriend as we walk, “And then maybe I’ll decide.”

It’s a lie, by the way, I’ve already decided.

Baz, of course, knows this, but he tells me anyway. “Well, she lost all her tickets trying to win a goldfish, but then fell in love with your Sofia the Third–”

“Sofia the Third of her Name,” I correct.

“Right. She fell in love with your Sofia, but with no tickets she couldn’t even attempt. Besides, it’s already past her bedtime and her aunt needs to get her back home before it gets too late. It wasn’t really much of anything. Sofia cost me basically nothing.”

“Because you game the system,” I’m nodding along even as I hear Baz start to huff over it. It makes me laugh a little.

“I’m just good at the bloody games–” He protests and I’m still laughing.

“Good at breaking them, yes,” I agree, already moving on, “Anyway, you can get me a ride on the ferris wheel with all your obscenely large plushies and a stick of fried butter.”

“Simon,” Baz looks down at me, utterly appalled, “I absolutely refuse to get you a stick of fried butter. I refuse to be party to your early, untimely, cholesterol-related death.”

“But Basil,” I give him my best impression of those puppy dog eyes, “I thought you loved me.”

“We are getting you your ferris wheel ride, but there is absolutely no way I’m kissing you post fried butter. I refuse.”

I’m still pouting ferociously at him.

He’s avoiding looking at me.

We’re stopped in front of the dreaded butter stall.

He’s still not looking at me.

I keep pouting.

He caves.

I’ve got my butter stick, my ferris wheel ride, and kisses at the very top of it, despite his complaints and protests.

I love him so much I might die. I might also die of too much butter intake. I don’t care. It’s stupidly delicious. I’m stupidly happy. He could ask me to marry him right now, I’d definitely say yes. He’s too busy bitching about my butter lips to ask me to marry him though. He’s lying through his teeth.He bloody well adores my butter lips and I know it.

[cazluvsu]

hello. celtics-bengals anon here.

that one... hurt. probably the most, because i had hope after that fumble. if there hadn't been the fumble actually, it might've been better. but our horrible awful defense did it! and i understand running it, to not risk another interception and all -but to lose on a missed field goal!

it wasn't even evan's fault. just... damn, football sucks. i'll still watch next week, but at this rate, even a win against the giants isn't guaranteed. frustrating because they ARE better than 1-4 and if they were a little bit luckier, they would be 2-3 or even better, but. 1-4 is where they stand. depressing.

at least the celtics blew out the nuggets, even if it's still the preseason. yay.

hello . again 😞😞 much yapping under the cut

yeah that was so fucking devastating lmfao. not a great day for me personally (bills lost in Also devastating fashion!!)

i’ll just explain my entire day Teehee sorry for using ur asks to rant every week atp but i enjoy them keep asking 🤗🤗 when the bengals win A game we can celebrate together 🤞

i go to work. work sucks! sometimes if it’s slow i can watch red zone or something else but nope! i end up staying later than i was supposed to and by the time i get to drive home i am Devastated bc 1 im tired lol and 2 i didn’t get to watch Any of the bills game!!! and i wanted to watch it so bad!!!!! and there was no way for me to go back and watch it bc i don’t live in buffalo or Houston so i don’t get the game in my area. So starting off strong. but. !! i get home and i realize the bills game actually was broadcast to me!! and it all recorded!!!! i could watch the entire game lfg!!!!!!!! so i do!!! i didn’tlook at my phone at all to get spoilers, it looks rough at the beginning but the bills come back and tie it with some luck!!! and then they fucking lose!!!!!! so i am already sad. i go on twitter as the start of the bengals ot starts playing bc that’s just. what records after the game is over i guess. i’m like Oh let’s see if the other team i am emotionally invested in can win and make me less sad!! and it looks like all is well with that fumble!! and they drive into evan’s fg range and the commentators are saying all these stats about how he’s perfect from 50+ this season, he has 14 straight made fgs in the 4th/ot, life seems great!!!!!! and then he misses 😀😀😀😀😀😀 watching the replay of the holder drop the ball literally killed me and then that run by henry immediately after (ptsd from the bills game last week lmfao) was just great ☺️☺️ so. Yeah it’s all devastating and football sucks i am never watching a game again (lie)

i completely agree it’s so much more frustrating when u Know they are much better than their record. they were right there in every game they’ve lost!!!! if their offense looked how it did in every other game Besides that first pats game, that’s a W. the ja’marr penalty in the chiefs game (horrible. i hate it. i hate thinking about it. Anyways! ). the commanders game. Literally did not punt!!! but the defense!!!!!! their offense is great like everyone predicted and it’s So frustrating when they can’t do anything but watch as the defense gives up points in crucial moments. Ugh.

and yeah it is still early (ish) in the season but when they’ve had the same issues in every game it makes it hard to believe they’ll really get that much better to propel them to the playoffs or like. A winning record. but what can u do 😕😕

the celtics will always be the light through the darkness 🙂‍↕️ (i forgot they played today) hope ur doing well tho anon 🫂🫂

[mvishnukumar]

Can statistics and data science methods make predicting a football game easier?

Hi,

Statistics and data science methods can significantly enhance the ability to predict the outcomes of football games, though they cannot guarantee results due to the inherent unpredictability of sports. Here’s how these methods contribute to improving predictions:

Data Collection and Analysis: 

Collecting and analyzing historical data on football games provides a basis for understanding patterns and trends. This data can include player statistics, team performance metrics, match outcomes, and more. Analyzing this data helps identify factors that influence game results and informs predictive models.

Feature Engineering:

 Feature engineering involves creating and selecting relevant features (variables) that contribute to the prediction of game outcomes. For football, features might include team statistics (e.g., goals scored, possession percentage), player metrics (e.g., player fitness, goals scored), and contextual factors (e.g., home/away games, weather conditions). Effective feature engineering enhances the model’s ability to capture important aspects of the game.

Predictive Modeling: 

Various predictive models can be used to forecast football game outcomes. Common models include:

Logistic Regression: This model estimates the probability of a binary outcome (e.g., win or lose) based on input features.

Random Forest: An ensemble method that builds multiple decision trees and aggregates their predictions. It can handle complex interactions between features and improve accuracy.

Support Vector Machines (SVM): A classification model that finds the optimal hyperplane to separate different classes (e.g., win or lose).

Poisson Regression: Specifically used for predicting the number of goals scored by teams, based on historical goal data.

Machine Learning Algorithms: 

Advanced machine learning algorithms, such as gradient boosting and neural networks, can be employed to enhance predictive accuracy. These algorithms can learn from complex patterns in the data and improve predictions over time.

Simulation and Monte Carlo Methods: 

Simulation techniques and Monte Carlo methods can be used to model the randomness and uncertainty inherent in football games. By simulating many possible outcomes based on historical data and statistical models, predictions can be made with an understanding of the variability in results.

Model Evaluation and Validation: 

Evaluating the performance of predictive models is crucial. Metrics such as accuracy, precision, recall, and F1 score can assess the model’s effectiveness. Cross-validation techniques ensure that the model generalizes well to new, unseen data and avoids overfitting.

Consideration of Uncertainty: 

Football games are influenced by numerous unpredictable factors, such as injuries, referee decisions, and player form. While statistical models can account for many variables, they cannot fully capture the uncertainty and randomness of the game.

Continuous Improvement: 

Predictive models can be continuously improved by incorporating new data, refining features, and adjusting algorithms. Regular updates and iterative improvements help maintain model relevance and accuracy.

In summary, statistics and data science methods can enhance the ability to predict football game outcomes by leveraging historical data, creating relevant features, applying predictive modeling techniques, and continuously refining models. While these methods improve the accuracy of predictions, they cannot eliminate the inherent unpredictability of sports. Combining statistical insights with domain knowledge and expert analysis provides the best approach for making informed predictions.

[blogmusicismydrugxo]

Ted Lasso has completely taken over my life rn so as a coping mechanism and as a lil treat for the finale tomorrow here's my ✨predictions✨ for what will happen:

- the writers are pulling a camp rock 2 move aka Richmond will not win de cup but instead lose at the last moment

- their opponents are West Ham (idk if they mentioned the opponents yet but i feel like we're still owed a rematch with WH), Nate's players will try to celebrate with him

- Ted returns to Kansas, where he will start coaching a football (soccer for y'all Americans) team. I can't tell whether Beard will stay or go back home too...

-Roy becomes head coach, with Nate as his main strategist

- they're not gonna make RoyxKeeleyxJamie explicit, but will frame things so that you can definitely read that into it if you want. They will make RoyxKeeley a thing again, but idk if we're ready for an actual throuple on this show with arguably not working up to it enough so far

- Colin will get to kiss a fella in semi-public but it won't be a team mate (y'all heard he thinks Bumbercatch is fit and really ran with it lmao)

- Rebecca and Sam won't get together as long as he stays with Richmond, cuz of the power dynamics

- Some of the players will get traded. If it's Sam (he's underutilised at Richmond with so many ace players already there), he and Rebecca give their relationship another go

- Bex divorces Rupert. She, Rebecca and the secretary start an ex-wives club, and the three of them become Rupert's daughter's mom-coven

- Trent's book will be an absolute success. He will stay at Richmond, either as press liaison or bc he starts his own sport column/blog

- Keeley hires some new employees for KJPR and finally has the fun office vibes she's always dreamt of

- They throw the biggest goodbye party for Ted and everyone cries super hard when he leaves. They all go to wave him off at the airport. Ted goes back to England every six months bc he misses all of them so much

[unitedbydevils]

Match Review: Bayern München 4-3 Manchester United

Lets be honest, reds. Defeat was almost certainly on the cards and a 1-goal deficit is perhaps a best case scenario.

In classic Ten Hag Era fashion, United started off looking competitive. We were more patient than against Brighton and spent good spells in Bayern's half, but that... didn't last [see below]

Beleaguered goalkeeper Andre Onana conceded what can only be described as a howler - on the back of a stream of constant criticism since the start of the season. An easy shot going in? Why does that seem familiar? Oh yeah, De Gea.

Kudos to Onana though. He actively requested to speak to the press post-match to apologise for his mistake, citing a good team performance and his failure as the reason for a missed result. I think he's wrong on that count - it was a team failing - but the humility to apologise and be accountable is an admirable trait.

Just four minutes later came Bayern's second goal; a well worked play around our box that was SO similar to goals scored by Brighton and Arsenal that either Lindelof/Casemiro aren't doing their jobs OR the coaching staff need to fix something in training because that was predictable and basic.

Despite limited service, Rasmus Hojlund was one of two (maybe three) bright sparks in United's performance. The Champions League debutant (we don't count an Atalanta qualifier) scored from a rare Marcus Rashford pass to bring the score back to 2-1.

Optimism suddenly. Energy. Vitality. Desire. United woke up! And then the Christian Eriksen/Casemiro pivot was bypassed yet again, Munich put it on United, and Eriksen conceded a silly but unfortunate handball - which led to a Harry Kane penalty and a 3-1 lead.

United never looked like the better team after the first 10 minutes, nor competitive after the first 20, but credit to the likes of Reguilon (who put in a big shift) and Pellistri (perhaps his first United start? away at Bayern?) for their determination and work rate through the match. Basic things, but if others aren't doing it it's remiss not to credit them.

Manchester United hung on in but freshly deflated didn't look like a renewed threat. Despite this, we some how scored the most scuffed goal from Casemiro. 3-2, game back on, right?

Wrong. Bayern push again and bang in a tidy 4th. Depression. But wait, then United run up the other end, final minute, and Bruno puts in a peach of a free kick for Casemiro to head home. 4-3, with 10 seconds of play left.

To the neutral, this was an interesting game, but it wasn't a good match. Had Bayern been in any semblance of form they could have snotted United 6 or 7 nil. That said, had United not had so many injuries and also been in form... I reckon we could have won. Were both teams in form then it would really have been a classic ECL clash. This is the nature of football. Shit happens, teams adapt.

There were few positives for United to draw from that match, but there were things confirmed: Eriksen cannot do it in the big games anymore. Casemiro needs a rest. Martinez/Lindelof needs work. Dalot is lucky AWB is out injured. Rashford needs to stop sulking and pass more. McTominay needs a special 1 on 1 coach to teach him movement and positioning because the man is allergic to receiving a pass.

The good news is that Mount, Varane, Amrabat and Mainoo are all close to a return. Will any be back for Burnley? We'll see, but that's the new focus and a must-win - potentially even a relegation six-pointer based on current form... jesus christ.

[mr-independent]

All right, I'm jumping on the train. My official predictions for the finale are as follows:

Ted's truth bomb is telling Rebecca he rehired Nate, or he at least leads with that

Ted spends most of the episode debating whether he should go home or not, ultimately ending with yes, back to Kansas. He tells this to the team at halftime, impacting the rest of the game

at some point Ted hinges his decision on the outcome of this final game, but one of the Diamond Dogs (probably Beard, possibly Roy or Trent) has a talk with him that makes him reconsider leaving it up to fate like that

Sam somehow becomes captain, either for this game or the following season. Jamie was the first choice, but he gives it to Sam because he's planning on quitting football altogether, or going back to Man City. Pep is an important factor in Jamie's decision

the game only needs to be won by a tie somehow, but at least one of the coaches is entirely confident that they'll come back form behind in the second half and win it outright, either Nate or Ted. Some sort of metaphor about Total Football is made to this effect

Nate finds a work around for some disaster in the first half, possibly what makes Ted decide the team will do just fine without him

Afterwards, win or lose, Trent goes up to Ted and says something about how Ted leaving impacts the end of the book, using some sort of Wizard of Oz reference/metaphor

Beard wants to stay in the UK, and Ted encourages him to, something about how Beard is stable, can stand on his own two feet, and has more than paid back his debt to Ted ("You don't owe me nothing, Coach. You never did.")

Nate is promoted to head coach in Ted's place

Ted responds to someone asking why he's leaving with a variation on "I've done what I set out to do here," and when pressed he'll say something like "this whole thing, living an ocean away from Henry, isn't sustainable." Quite possibly he changes his mind last second based on a third act twist, but I wouldn't put money on it

speaking of, Michelle and Henry will make an appearance, and something about Michelle's relationship with Dr John will be revealed as a third act twist

She's A Rainbow will be either the opening or closing song

the final shot is Ted in an airport (my hope is that it's to pick up Henry, that Michelle agreed to have him live with Ted instead, or barring that it's him going back to England after a mildly disastrous stay in Kansas - his mind is finally made, his life is in Richmond. I don't think this will happen, I'm fairly sure he'll go back to Kansas permanently because of some big change in his life there, but god do I hope so)

[wedesignyouny]

GAMBLING WINNINGS: Owing taxes is a sure bet

GAMBLING WINNINGS: Owing taxes is a sure bet

Jonny Xavier is a typical twenty-year-old dude who lives with his parents in Long Island, NY. Living at home provides him with the ability to save money so that one day he will be a homeowner. He is working full-time at the Amazon fulfillment center where he oversees picking and packaging orders before they are sent out for delivery across the island. Jonny also works for extra money on the weekends with Amazon Flex, which allows him to use his own car to make deliveries of Amazon packages. With consistent work ethic and diligence, there is little doubt that one day Jonny will have enough money saved to purchase a home and start a family of his own.

Life cannot be all work and no play. Jonny was an all-state football player in high school and still has a passion for sports. He missed the “high” of playing in big games; however, he has recently experienced a similar feeling when his buddies introduced him to online sports betting. DraftKings and FanDuel are the most prominent online sports books in New York. For Jonny, DraftKings is where he finds his best luck, even though the online forum has proven to be no different than a casino where the “house” always wins. Even so, the first time he tried online sports betting he had tremendously good fortune. If one can even imagine, Jonny placed a six- leg parlay on a Monday Night Football game between his favorite team the New York Giants and the New England Patriots. According to betting instructions, if the game has six scores between the two teams, and Jonny can pick the exact six players who will score in the game, he will hit on his parlay and win himself $250,000 on his $250 ante. Being the die-hard Giants fan that he is, Jonny predicts there will be six scores and that his team will have all of them. The bet is in, and Jonny has butterflies in his stomach before kick-off.

Three hours later Jonny and his friends are having one of the most exhilarating nights of their young lives. Unbelievably, he has clairvoyantly picked the exact players who combined on the six New York Giants scores. Specifically, there were five touchdowns and one field goal that made Jonny’s dreams come true and gave the Giants a 38-0 win over the Patriots. While his friends won on some smaller bets, Jonny pulled off a remarkable feat in completing his parlay, thus being the winner of $250,000. The payment was given to Jonny through a check disbursement from DraftKings in the amount of $190,000. There was an automatic federal tax withholding of 24% which equaled $60,000 in Federal Taxes. Jonny knows exactly what he will do with his winnings. Now he will be able to pay for a four-year degree from college and better his chances of earning potential over the course of his life. He has never been more certain that he will become a homeowner.

Being at the ripe age of twenty years old, Jonny has very little experience when it comes to filing his taxes. In January of the following year, he received his W-2 from the fulfillment center and was also sent a 1099 Form to submit as an independent contractor because of his work role with Amazon Flex. The year finished with a bang and Jonny had much to celebrate and look forward to in the new year to come. X’s and O’s come naturally to Jon Xavier; alternatively, when it comes to taxes, Jonny is somewhat naive and underestimating. From his perspective, he has already paid his taxes when they withheld 24% of his $250,000 winning check. He remembers the total amount he received was $190,000. Sixty thousand dollars were taken right off the top, but he paid his dues and finds no reason to list his gambling winnings on last year’s tax return. He had received a W-2G from DraftKings in the mail but thought nothing of it and threw it away. He used his W-2 from Amazon, along with the 1099 Form and submitted his taxes using Turbo Tax software.

When the Fourth of July came around that year Jonny was driving a brand-new Mercedes Benz, He could not resist the urge for a brand-new car, so he splurged on the $75,000 “Benz”. The rest of the money from his winnings was spent on a four-year degree from Stony Brook College on Long Island. Stony Brook offered Jonny a four-year degree for $80,000 if he paid up front. It was a discount of almost $40,000. Accordingly, Mr. & Mrs. Xavier recommended to their son that was a good deal and Jonny took the advice. He was on top of the world, driving around in his dream car while waiting to attend college in the fall. He surely was a lucky guy.

However, as they say, “All good things must come to an end.” Jonny was very troubled when he received a notice from the New York State Tax & Finance Department stating that he owed taxes in the amount of $27,500. He was in shock! How could this be? Jonny showed it to his parents immediately to make sense of this huge tax bill. Mr. Xavier took a closer look at the notice and realized it was from the unreported gambling winnings last year. The New York State Department of Tax & Finance received the same W-2G from DraftKings and cross-referenced that with Jonny Xavier’s tax return. They knew he did not pay taxes for the State of New York. Furthermore, New York has one of the highest gambling tax rates in the country at 10.9%. This was a huge problem for Jonny, and he worried what might happen to him now. Will they take his car?

Always looking out for the best interest of her son, Mrs. Xavier knew there was a place her family could go for legal advice on this matter. The Law Office of Ronald D. Weiss, P.C. has helped many people navigate the rough waters dealing with The New York State of Taxation & Finance. Jonny was able to tell his story during a free consultation with experienced staff and attorneys, who specialize in IRS taxes alongside New York State taxes. Upon leaving The Law Office of Ronald D. Weiss, P.C., Jonny felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He was very optimistic that for a very reasonable fee he could utilize the firm to find a resolution to this matter. Ultimately, The Law Office of Ronald D. Weiss, P.C. was able to negotiate with the NYS Department of Taxation and place Jonny into an Installment Agreement. Under the agreement, he will make affordable monthly payments until his tax bill is paid. Jonny is grateful for the team at Ronald Weiss and has learned two major lessons. First, he learned to report all income on his tax returns or there can be real consequences. Secondly, if he or any of his friends experience this type of issue in the future, they know that The Law Office of Ronald D. Weiss, P.C. will be diligent advocates for their clients and fight for the best possible resolution to their specific tax matters.