#Impact Women's Championship

[litafan4ever]

Lita Wins Her First WWE Women's Championship (WWE Monday Night Raw - August 21, 2000)

[wrestlingmgc]

Impact Knockouts World Champion Jordynne Grace

[machobusta]

Gail Kim presents the GFW Women’s Championship and the Impact Wrestling Knockouts Championship before the unification match between Rosemary and Sienna.

Slammiversary XV July 2, 2017

[could-they-be-a-pro-wrestler]

This is a poll blog that asks the question…could your favorite fictional character be a pro wrestler? Would you like to submit a character? Click this link if you do!

[coochiequeens]

While information on Walmsley is limited, Bissonnette says he has absolutely no history fighting against women in Canadian tournaments, suggesting his identification into women’s sport was recent" Officials would have allowed a woman to go into a match without any hint that she was up against a male if her coach didn't tell her ONE HOUR before the match

By Anna Slatz November 15, 2023

A female boxer withdrew from a provincial championship in Quebec after learning that her opponent was biologically male, leading to him winning the competition by default. Dr. Katia Bissonnette of Saguenay says she was matched against transgender fighter Mya Walmsley with no notice.

The 2023 Provincial Golden Glove Championship took place on October 27 and 29 in Victoriaville, Quebec, hosted by the Quebec Boxing Federation in collaboration with the KO-96 boxing club. But the tournament, which intended to give novices the opportunity to qualify for the Canadian Championship in December, attracted controversy after Bisonnette announced her withdrawal.

Speaking to Reduxx, Bissonnette, who works as a psychologist in Jonquière, explains that she learned Walmsley was male one hour before she was set to step in the ring.

“I came down from my hotel room to head towards the room where all the boxers were warming up. My coach suddenly took me aside and told me he received information by text message, which he had then validated, that my opponent was not a woman by birth. We did not have any other additional information,” she says.

While information on Walmsley is limited, Bissonnette says he has absolutely no history fighting against women in Canadian tournaments, suggesting his identification into women’s sport was recent. Walmsley is originally from Australia, but moved to Canada around 2 years ago to attend Concordia University.

“[Walmsley] would have boxed as a man in Australia,” Bissonnette says. “In Quebec, on his file, it is mentioned that he had 0 fights as a woman.”

Since moving to Canada, Walmsley has been involved in political activism at the University-level as a Master’s student and teaching assistant in the philosophy department. Recent interviews with Walmsley show he has an overtly masculine appearance.

Following Bissonnette’s withdrawal, Walmsley issued a statement to the press accusing her of “outing” him and warning that similar actions would have a negative impact on female athletes.

“Rather than turning to me, my coach or the Quebec Olympic Boxing Federation for more information, she decided to turn directly to the media to out me,” wrote Walmsley. “This kind of behavior puts athletes at risk of being excluded or receiving personal attacks based on hearsay … I am afraid that this type of accusation could eventually be used to delegitimize athletes in the women’s category, and justify arbitrary and invasive regulations.”

Walmsley went on to assert that the best policy for gender self-identification in sport was for athletes to “trust” each other, and defer to coaches and policies in assumption that matches were made fairly.

But Bissonnette rejects Walmsley’s apparent call for handshake-based policies, noting that even under established guidelines it was unclear how he had been allowed to enter the match.

“The rule issued from Boxing Canada to the Quebec Boxing Federation was not to reveal that the opponent was transsexual, so that the latter would not be discriminated against. However, after confirmation, this policy only applies when a sex change has taken place before puberty,” she explains, noting that because Walmsley is a foreign national, his transition history is entirely unclear.

Following Bissonnette’s withdrawal, the competition was unable to find another woman in the super welterweight category (165lbs) to match against Walmsley, and he won by default.

The Quebec Boxing Federation was reportedly aware of Walmsley’s biological sex, but justified the fight by stating they had chosen an appropriate referee for the match. Ultimately, Bissonnette says her decision to withdraw came down to safety.

“According to a study, a male blow has 163% more impact than a women’s, even adjusted for weight,” she says, referring to a 2020 study on strength published by researchers at the University of Utah. “In the group studied, the weakest man remains physically superior to the strongest woman.”

Bissonnette goes on to note that women’s participation in combat sports is relatively recent, but may not last much longer if females are continuously paired up to fight males.

“Women shouldn’t have to bear the physical and psychological risks brought by a man’s decisions regarding his personal life and identity,” she continues. “There should be two categories: biological male and female.”

Bissonnette’s decision to refuse to fight Walmsley comes on the heels of several instances of similar protests by women across the sporting world.

As previously reported by Reduxx, women abandoned a Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu tournament in Georgia last month in protest of the participation of multiple trans-identified males. As a result, one of the men took home four gold medals in the women’s category, and, in one of the divisions, only males were on the winner’s podium.

Female martial artists Jayden Alexander and Ansleigh Wilk spoke out against the North American Grappling Association (NAGA) for their gender self-identification policy, sparking a wildfire of backlash that ultimately resulted in NAGA fully segregating the divisions based on biological sex with “no exceptions.”

On November 13, a female pool player in England caused similar controversy after walking away from the table during a tournament in Wales in apparent protest of a trans-identified male who was competing.

[ultradude13]

Trinity Fatu

[daminouspurity]

NXT Battleground 2024 NXT Women's Championship Roxanne Perez vs. Jordynne Grace Predictions WWE 2K24

[adascore]

The Missed Swap

pairing: alexia putellas x england!reader

warnings: swearing. reader receives a push. jealous alexia. mentions of alexia doing her acl.

author's note: finally finished this!! love writing about the complexity of their rivalry!

part 1 | masterlist

•••••••

The press conference room was filled with all sorts of journalists; Spaniards, Brits or just avid women's football researchers who were hyped about the upcoming friendly between Spain and England.

Between Y/N and Alexia rested only a few metres, their respective coaches accompanying them. Sarina and her captain sat composed waiting on the start of the conference, while their opposition exuded a calm confidence that would have intimidated any other pair.

Despite the heartwarming interaction at the Champions League final a month prior, there was no evidence of any kind of friendship as the two star players avoided each other's eyes, and any traces of the camaraderie from Turin seemed distant.

In an attempt to break the ice, Alexia discreetly sought a glance from the striker, hoping for a sign of recognition or acknowledgment, but the Spaniard was only met with a polite smile from Sarina.

The midfielder felt almost stupid for having looked forward to this, seeing her again after Turin. She'd hoped it was the start of a change, one where they could talk to one another without the forced formalities and could even become friends.

Yeah, she felt incredibly stupid.

The moderator signaled the start of the pre-match press conference. ''Good morning, everyone. Welcome to the press conference with Spain coach and captain Jorge Vilda and Alexia Putellas, as well as England coach and captain Sarina Wiegman and Y/N Y/L. We are going to start with the questions.''

The first few minutes were standard; asking about the expectations, main thoughts about the opposition, how they were all feeling about the upcoming European Championships, etc. The four of them answered all the questions directly and in a diplomatic manner.

However, it was a certain Spanish journalist that decided to shake things up. ''Hello, everyone. This question is for Alexia,'' the man spoke up in his native language, ''after the Champions League final, we witnessed, what seemed, an emotional interaction between you and Y/N. Would you say your relationship has changed since then? Or was it just a moment for the camera's? Will it have any impact on the game tomorrow?''

Alexia maintained her diplomatic tone, carefully choosing her words. ''Good morning. The final in Turin was an intense and emotional moment for both of our teams. With Y/N, we share respect for football, the game. Now, we are here to represent our countries in preparation for the Euro's.''

The reporter, undeterred by the captain's media-trained answer, pressed with a sly smile. ''But is there a good relationship between you two? There seemed to have been a connection of some sorts.''

''I understand there might be interest in our personal relationship, but I want to focus on our match tomorrow.'' She answered with poise, not entertaining the controversy he was trying to stir.

Y/N couldn't help but smirk at the journalist's persistence. Despite not understand their language, it was clear Alexia hadn't given him the satisfaction of actually answering his question.

The moderator urged for someone else to take the microphone, quickly wanting to move on before it became more of an issue. The word was then given to an English journalist.

''Hi, for the Daily Mail,'' he greeted them, Y/N having to fight the urge to roll her eyes at the mention of for which news outlet he worked for, ''for Y/N, uh, many of the players of the Spanish team play for Barcelona, and we all saw what happened last month. Do you think their defeat had something to do with your presence or maybe that the rivalry between you and Alexia Putellas was a factor in that?''

Y/N raised an eyebrow at the loaded question, but remained composed. ''Every match is different, and Spain is also different from Barcelona. Football is a team sport, and the outcome of a match depends on a lot of different factors. I don't think it is fair to attribute the result of a match to the presence or absence of a single player. I mean- I'm a footballer, not a witch.'' She concluded her answer with a lighthearted joke, relieved it caused some of the tension in the room to disappear.

''A question for both the coaches,'' the conference moved on again, ''how do each of you feel about another meeting between Alexia and Y/N? They're not just the star players of your teams, but also of women's football. Does it add any excitement or pressure to the match?''

Sarina responded first. ''Well, every match is a great opportunity to have good battles, as a group or as individuals. They're both exceptional talents so it will be a treat to watch for all of us, but the main focus is on the team performance and preparing for the European Championship next month.''

Jorge nodded, seemingly agreeing. ''Individual matchups add excitement, but the success of the team remains a priority.''

The press conference concluded not much later, the four of them alleviated they could get up and leave.

As they exited, Y/N and Alexia found themselves walking side by side, albeit a bit awkwardly. The corridor felt like a neutral ground, free from the scrutiny of the media.

“They're always searching for stuff…” Y/N broke the silence, still somewhat frustrated over the questions about their personal relationship.

Alexia nodded in agreement, her expression reflecting a similar feeling. “Yeah, so stupid.”

The quietness returned, both women unsure of what to say.

“Congrats on winning the league again, by the way.” Alexia rambled, the words leaving her mouth like a speed train.

Y/N smiled, appreciating the attempt to continue the conversation. “Thanks, you too.”

“Thank you.” The midfielder hesitated, a subtle struggle visible on her face.

Alexia sighed, searching for the right words. “Look, about Turin…”

Y/N raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “What about it?”

There was a pause as they walked, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air.

“I wanted to talk more, you know, after the match.” She admitted, a hint of vulnerability in her voice.

The England captain slowly nodded. “Ah, yeah, it looked like that, but then your coach whisked you away.” She awkwardly laughed.

“I don't know why he did that, it probably felt as weird to me as it did to you,” Alexia responded, “but I just wanted to thank you for your words, cause… you didn't have to come up to me, but you did.”

Y/N smiled warmly. “You really don't have to thank me. I know what it's like as captain, it's tough. It just felt like the right thing to do.”

“What you said about our growth and stuff, it means more than you think, you know, to the team.” The Spaniard quickly added the last bit, not wanting to get too sentimental.

“I'm glad if it brought a bit of comfort to your team. I meant it, you guys have really made a great transition.” Y/N wasn't by any means a great loser, but she would always give a team credit when it's due.

Alexia nodded appreciatively. “Thanks. I'm, uh, excited about tomorrow.”

The England captain grinned, feeling a subtle shift in their dynamic. "Yeah, it should be a good game.''

“Yes, it should. Hopefully it goes my way this time.''

Y/N loudly laughed at Alexia's words, taking the Barcelona midfielder by surprise. ''I didn't know you were this funny, Putellas.''

Alexia chuckled, a genuine smile breaking through.

“Y/N…”

The striker turned back to where the call of her name came from, and she was met with the hesitant face of Sarina.

She gave her coach a hand motion that said ‘I'm right there, let me wrap this up'. The Dutchwoman seemed to understand as she gave both players a nod.

“Uh, I gotta go- team stuff, but I'll see you tomorrow then.” Y/N bid goodbye.

“Yeah, tomorrow.”

Alexia watched her rival leave, eyes roaming over her athletic figure that was adorned in an England training kit that seemed to highlight every curve of her body.

The Spaniard had to shake herself out of her daze, not knowing what came over her.

As she turned to head in the opposite direction, she refocused herself on the game ahead and realized she had to put aside the emotions and complexities that seemed to find her every time she encountered the England captain.

It had already cost her one match, she wouldn't dare let it happen again.

The score wasn't reflective of how exciting and high-pressing the match actually was. Neither side had scored, but there had been plenty of great chances.

It also included a lot of fouls, specifically on the English captain by the Spanish players.

Y/N found herself on the receiving end of another rough challenge, this time from Carmona.

As the referee's whistle pierced through the stadium, signaling the foul, Y/N couldn't contain her frustration. “Fucking cunt.” She muttered under her breath.

The Real Madrid defender, catching wind of the insult, didn't take it lightly. “What did you say?” She exclaimed, responding with a push.

The striker didn't budge, simply giving her an unimpressed look. “I said you're a fucking cunt.” She repeated her words, not one bit intimidated.

The tension escalated, and the players from both teams rushed to get involved.

More of the Spanish players stepped in to defend the young player, throwing insults at Y/N. While the England players tried to form a protective barrier around their captain, not shy of vulgar words themselves.

Amidst the chaos, Alexia took a step forward, signaling to her Spanish teammates to calm down. “That's enough.” She told Olga, placing herself in-between the Brit and the defender.

“Let it go, it's just a friendly. No need for this.” Her authoritative tone resonated, and she managed to diffuse the situation.

Olga, still visibly upset, reluctantly stepped back, but mumbled some more Spanish swear words that had Patri giving her a light push.

Alexia, with an apologetic look, turned around to address Y/N, but Rachel intervened, pulling her captain away from the aftermath of the chaos.

“We need to take more advantage of the counterattacks, we're just giving everything away.” Rachel immediately focused back on the game, whispering her thoughts.

Y/N caught Alexia's intention, but let it go, redirecting her attention to the unfolding match.

In a retaliatory turn of events, Georgia committed a foul against Alexia.

The England captain didn't want it to escalate the way it had only a few minutes before, so she quickly addressed her teammate.

“G, tone it down!”

The midfielder gave a thumbs up and an apology to Alexia, which the Spaniard accepted.

The final whistle blew, ending the intense encounter with a draw. Both sides were disappointed not to walk away with the win, but the result felt right to the match.

As the players exchanged handshakes and words of sportsmanship, Y/N and Alexia found themselves facing each other once more.

“Good match.” They chorused, shaking hands with a content smile.

“I guess it didn't really go your way this time.” Y/N chuckled, recalling Alexia's words from the day before.

The midfielder laughed, relieved there was no tension between them anymore. “It was tough today. Great defense from your team.”

“Thanks, your attacks warranted it.” The Brit playfully rolled her eyes.

They walked together towards the officials to shake their hands, making small talk about the match.

“Hey… your shirt…” Y/N switched topics, pointing at the red Spain jersey.

“Yeah?” Alexia's eyes widened slightly, almost beaming at the fact that the striker would want to swap shirts.

“My teammate, Katie, she's quite the fan and would you do me a favor and like, ask her to exchange kits? She didn't get to play today and it would really cheer her up.”

A tinge of red colored Alexia's cheeks as she realized her misinterpretation. “Oh, uh, yeah, no problem.”

“You don't have to, if you want to keep the shirt.” Y/N noticed the slight expression change in the opposition's face.

“No, I really want to. I'll ask her, no big deal.” Alexia quickly brushed it off, embarrassed by her own thoughts.

“Thank you so much, it will mean a lot to her. Usually she's a chatterbox, but…” The striker trailed off.

Alexia nodded, finding it a sweet gesture of the rivaling captain.

“Uh, actually, could you do the same? One of the younger girls, Claudia, really looks up to you and would appreciate the shirt.”

The midfielder saw her younger teammate lingering not too far from where they were standing, not subtle in observing the captains' interaction.

“She's the small girl that's standing behind you.” Alexia smiled, laughing as Pina pretended to look at the crowd once she caught her Barcelona teammate watching her.

Y/N followed her eyes and gave Claudia a wave, which the girl shyly returned.

“I‘ll ask as well,” she softly responded, “uh, so I'll see you in the Euro's final then?” Y/N grinned, teasingly.

“Yeah, I'll see you there.”

As they parted ways, each player headed toward the teammate they had promised to exchange shirts with.

“ALEXIA PUTELLAS TEARS ACL BEFORE WOMEN's EUROS”

Y/N read the headline in utter shock, in disbelief that the Spain captain had tore her ACL in training, the day before the start of the tournament.

“You heard about Putellas?” Jill interrupted her thoughts, joining her in the lounge that had been set up for the team.

“Yeah.” She nodded, closing her phone.

“I feel for her.” The Manchester City player sympathized.

Y/N remained quiet, wondering how Alexia was doing- mentally then.

“Are you two friends?” Jill inquired, confused by the captain's silence.

She looked at her older friend, lifting her shoulders. “I don't know. We're not enemies.”

Intrigued by the cryptic response, Jill couldn't resist probing further. “You guys were laughing with each other after the Spain match.”

“Yeah, and?” Y/N chuckled, uncomfortable by her teammate's stare.

The midfielder raised an eyebrow. “What's the story?”

“There is no story, we just had a laugh.” The captain retorted.

“You used to shut down like a toddler whenever someone mentioned her, and now you're acting like buddies together. What happened, Cap?” Jill was properly confused on what the status was with the two football stars.

“I won, that's what happened.” Y/N opened her phone again, hoping her response was enough to satisfy Jill's curiosity.

The older one frowned. “Won what?”

“I won the final. Champions League. She lost.” It was a vague clarification, they both knew that.

“And that makes you friends?”

Y/N sighed, sensing the skepticism in Jill's tone. “You don't get it, Scott- be glad that you don't.”

“So what if you hadn't won?” Jill asked, a subtle gravity behind her question.

Y/N took a moment before responding, contemplating the hypothetical scenario. “There was no way I would have lost that final. Not in a hundred years.”

“So humble you are.” Her teammate sarcastically commented.

The captain dramatically winked at the older woman.

“But seriously… what is that?” Jill made a gesture with her hand, as if she was physically pointing between her and Alexia.

“Don't know, I guess she isn't as pretentious as I thought she was.” Y/N answered, recognizing the wrong perspective she had of the Spaniard.

Jill raised an eyebrow. “She probably thought the same of you.” She laughed.

“I guess so.” The younger player admitted. “Should I send her a message? Like wishing her well or something?” Y/N asked Jill, holding up her phone.

She looked at the striker's phone, considering the suggestion. “Why not? I can't think of one player who wouldn't be happy to get a message from you.”

“Alright…” Y/N mumbled, opening Instagram and pulling up Alexia's account.

Jill glanced at her screen. “You don't even follow her!” She scoffed.

The captain looked from her screen to Jill, and back to her screen. “Yeah, and?”

“Follow her, and send the message.” The midfielder instructed.

“Are you my boss?” Y/N playfully rolled her eyes, but followed up on Jill's instruction.

| Y/N.Y/L: hey, heard about the injury. hope you're doing alright, and know that a lot of people are behind you. take care ❤️

“Good enough for Miss Scott?” Y/N asked her teammate.

Jill nodded, approvingly. “Look at you, extending an olive branch.'' She teased.

''An olive branch? We never had any problems.'' The younger one frowned, as an olive branch usually meant for there to have been a conflict.

The Manchester City player chuckled at her confusion. ''Well, it's a nice gesture. I'm sure she'll appreciate it.''

Y/N shrugged. ''It's a serious injury, she's at least out for like 8-9 months. I can't imagine her not playing with Spain and Barca.''

Jill nodded, a similar sympathetic look on her face. ''Yeah, I just hope she comes out better of it.''

''She will.'' Y/N said, voice full of confidence.

It was still Alexia. La Reina. She would not be taken down easily.

Meanwhile, freshly arrived in her home country, Alexia finally unlocked her phone after a long and hectic day. A certain notification stood out, it couldn't be could it?

She could feel her heartbeat as she saw the message from Y/N. She hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to open it immediately or not. Alexia edged herself, answering everyone else's messages before getting to the Brit's.

After an eternity, she decided to open and read it as her curiosity got the better of her.

Alexia's eyes softened as she read over the words. Y/N's DM was not something that anyone hadn't told her before, but her rivaling captain had taken the time to wish her well and that meant more than Alexia was ready to admit yet.

| alexiaputellas: hey, I am back home now so doing better! thank you for your words and good luck at the tournament! ❤️

The captain stared at her phone, pondering on how their relationship had changed so much- at least to the point where they were sending messages to one another. Yet, here they were, exchanging words beyond the constraints of the game.

She couldn't deny the intrigue she had towards the striker. The phenomenon that was the England captain was unexplored territory for the Spaniard. Everything she had though before about Y/N all seemed to fade as she got more and more glimpses of who her rival actually was.

As Alexia wondered about the new dynamics, her train of thought was interrupted by a new notification.

| Y/N.Y/L: that's great to her! too bad we can't meet in the final now

The Catalan smiled, her fingers swiftly moving over the screen to compose a reply.

| alexiaputellas: yeah, maybe another time!

| alexiaputellas: if you do play against Spain, I don't want you to win, though 😉

| Y/N.Y/L: ooooohhhh, im gonna play extra harder against them now :)

| Y/N.Y/L: are you coming back to England to watch them?

| alexiaputellas: yes, after I've had my surgery!

| Y/N.Y/L: good luck with that, btw

| alexiaputellas: thank you ☺

The messages continued on for a while, mostly staying on the joking side. Alexia appreciated the unexpected distraction Y/N provided for her, her torn knee having become forgotten for just a few moments.

Their next meeting came 2 weeks later as England took on Spain in the quarterfinals. Y/N was wary about meeting their team still quite early on in the tournament, but it would be a great test for them, and not having Alexia on the pitch could only be a benefit to the English- even if it happened due to unfortunate circumstances.

The match was intense, reminiscent of their friendly match the month before. In the 54th minute, England fell behind, conceding a goal. The pressure only intensified as the entire team and stadium looked at their captain, in serious need of a solution.

Y/N screamed more motivation at her teammates, applauding and praising every pass and chance they made. Fortunately, Ella managed to equalize, and Georgia had everyone going crazy as she put one extra in the net during extra time.

The striker jumped into the young midfielder's arms, yelling inaudible things as they celebrated her world of a goal. ''You're a legend, G!''

''Come on, girls! We can do this!'' Millie exclaimed, clapping her hands to hype everyone up to keep their lead.

''Keep pressuring them! It's in our hands now! You're doing amazing!'' Y/N joined in, her infectious energy working on the team as they all nodded and got back to their spots on the pitch.

The whistle blew and the entire squad could feel a huge weight leaving their shoulders, relieved this tribulation was over and they could focus on the semifinals.

In the post-match rituals, Y/N glanced towards the Spanish team. A bittersweet realization struck her- the victory was nice, but a part of the competition was missing without the direct face-off with the Spanish captain. She almost forgot her colleague would not be on the pitch to shake hands with, or to analyze the match with.

She tried finding her in the crowd, but Alexia must have already made an escape to the locker rooms. The Brit didn't blame her, she probably didn't want to stick around to see a rival team celebrating knocking their team out. 

Half an hour later, Alexia watched Irene stroll into their changing rooms- one of the last players to arrive, holding a white England shirt in her hand.

Her curiosity got the better of her and she approached her fellow captain on the other side of the room. ''Irene, who did you swap with?'' She asked.

Irene grinned, unfolding the jersey as Y/N's name and number was displayed in front of Alexia's eyes. ''Our favorite girl,'' Irene sarcastically said, the England player had caused a lot of damage to both of the women, on club and international level, ''she asked me. You just can't say no to that face, can you?'' The defender chuckled.

A subtle flicker of disbelief crossed Alexia's features as Irene continued chatting about the exchange. The realization that Y/N had chosen to swap shirts with the older woman stung a bit, sparking an unfamiliar emotion in her. Perhaps, it was a fleeting sense of envy for the seeming connection that her and Irene had. The Spaniard had played against the Lyon striker numerous times during her stint at PSG.

Despite her attempt to keep a neutral expression, Alexia's reaction was far from enthusiastic. ''Oh, that's great.'' She replied, her tone a bit more dejected than she had wanted.

Irene noticed the shift in her teammate's demeanor. She raised an eyebrow and shot a look at Alexia. ''Something on your mind?'' She questioned, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she sensed there might be more to the midfielder's reaction.

''No, nothing at all. Just… surprised.'' Alexia forced a smile, attempting to downplay the jealousy. However, her eyes betrayed her.

The defender raised an eyebrow, her grin only widening. ''Surprised? Why? We've known each other for a long time, played against her a bunch of times.'' She responded casually, enjoying whatever was happening at the moment.

''Yeah, true. Well, good for you.'' Alexia nodded, trying to mask her unease with a nonchalant tone.

The Barcelona player chuckled, starting to recognize what this might be about. She held up the England shirt, a teasing glint in her own eyes. ''You want it? I still have a Lyon one from a few years ago.'' She playfully extended the jersey towards Alexia.

The midfielder shook her head, again forcing herself to laugh. ''No, no. It's all yours, don't even want it, anyway.'' Alexia waved off the offered shirt with a dismissive gesture.

''Alright, whatever suits you.'' Irene smiled, placing the shirt in her own bag.

She left the blonde alone, walking back to where she had settled before the defender had waltzed into the room.

Alone with her thoughts, Alexia couldn’t shake off the uncomfortable feeling. Watching Irene prance around with Y/N’s shirt left her with a strange mix of emotions that she hadn’t dealt with before, or at least not when it pertained to her teammate and rival.

What puzzled her even more was why Y/N had never asked her for a shirt swap. She wondered if their rivalry and everyone’s comparisons of the two, overshadowed the possibility of something more- whatever that something more was. Did the England captain only see their interactions through the lens of competition?

Alexia grappled with a simple yet difficult question: did she want Y/N to ask for a shirt swap or did it bother her more that she didn’t seem to be considered for one?

[madhatterbri]

Safe | D.P.

Summary: Can you write about Damian carrying the reader out of the ring after trying to defend Rhea Ripley from Nia Jax and Liv Morgan and the new Judgment Day. Damien keeps her safe after everything they go through.

Requested by: Anon

Author's Note: Happy birthday to Damian Priest.

Taglist: @theworldofotps @smallestsnarkestgirl @mrsarcherofinfamy @brideofinfamy @terrortwinunicorn @new-zealand-chic @miss-kuki-nz

Her head weakly turned to them. The girls giggled at each other. Liv was Nia's new best friend. After Tiffany turned on Nia at Smackdown and took her championship, Nia came to RAW. In need of a new best friend, she quickly aligned herself with Liv Morgan. Now, they caused hell in the women's locker room on RAW.

Y/N stared above her. Her chest rose and fell as she tried to catch her breath. She tried her best to protect Rhea from Liv Morgan and Nia Jax. When the New Judgment Day came out, the chaos grew worse. Damian and Jey were busy dealing with Finn, Dom, JD, and Carlito.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nia and Liv continue their assault on Rhea. When Mami was no longer fighting back, they turned their sights to Y/N.

The blonde wrestler grabbed Y/N's hair. She dragged her to the corner of the ring. Y/N knew what was coming. She couldn't stop it even if she wanted to. Nia started to climb the to the second rope. The injured wrestler closed her eyes to brace for impact. The Bonzai Drop had to be her least favorite finisher to be a victim of.

The crowd erupted in a cheer. Within moments, someone grabbed Y/N's right wrist and ankle. Her body screamed in pain at the sudden movement. She whined and opened her eyes, expecting to see Liv Morgan giving her one last beat down. No one else could possibly save her. Instead, she was met with Damian Priest.

"You're fine. I got you," he assured her. Damian pulled her close to him as he stood outside the ring. The archer of infamy scooped her in his arms. Her arms wrapped around his neck to steady herself. She rested her head on his shoulder.

Nia, despite Liv's warning, continued to Bonzai Drop. Her butt fell hard to the ground with nothing to stop her. She howled in pain as Liv rushed to her aid. With the two women now distracted, they couldn't see another person had come to help Rhea.

"Rhea? What about Rhea?" Y/N asked in a panic.

"She's fine. Jey got her," he answered. Y/N peaked over his shoulder to see Jey assisting Rhea. She was cradling her arm close to her body, but she was able to walk out.

"I failed her, D. I failed Rhea," her voice broke. She felt like such a failure. An uneasy feeling washed over her. "What if they come after us?"

"Don't worry, mi amor. You are safe with me,"

[tired-teacher-blog]

In the waiting room

Characters : Kirishima/ Fem reader

Warnings and Genre : NSFW/ 18+/ Handjob/ Fluff/ Cum eating/ One Shot

Notes : Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

• So, has anyone ever thought of professional boxer Kirishima? Just me? Okay cool.

Masterlist|Second Masterlist|Third Masterlist

A man who's nothing less than a beast in front of his opponents, and nothing more than a little puppy when you're around.

He's ripped, barely fits in his gym clothes, arms and chest are covered in tattoos and multiple scars -courtesy of the countless matches he's been involved in so far- striking fear in the bones of men, and lust in the hearts of women.

He's a legend in the world of combat sports, with many championship belts, trophies and medals with his name on them, everyone both hates, and wants to be him, it's a paradox really, and that's how impactful this man can be.

_ "You're an idiot," you grumble under your breath while gently using a gauze swab to clean the cut under his left eye, "this could have been bad."

_ "I'm sorry babe so please don't be mad at me, it's just that I got distracted by how beautiful you looked while cheering for me." a goofy smile appears on his face as he casually slips a hand under your skirt and slides it up slowly, only to retract it a moment after with a wince of pain when you intentionally dabbed at the wound a bit too harshly.

_ "Stop joking around will you?" you are definitely not amused, and the irritated expression on your face, says it all.

_ "It's fine love, I won didn't I?" he expresses cheerfully, puffing his chest and chuckling cutely, but you still do not find it funny.

_ "You really are an idiot huh?" you slap a band-aid on him before collecting the first aid kit and standing up from your seat with a roll of your eyes, "do you think winning is what's on my mind right now? I just want you to be safe you clueless asshole."

_ "So you were just worried about me?" and it seems as if he has just made a grand discovery, the spark in his eye is blinding and the stupid smile on his face is endearing, and you almost break into laughter yourself, watching the duality of this man's intimidating appearance, and pure heart.

A duality only you can witness.

_ "Of course I was, you big jerk." you finally give in to your giggles, cradling his cheeks and smoothing your thumb over the covered wound apologetically.

A shriek suddenly escapes you when he effortlessly picks you up in his arms and spins you around, banging on his chest and demanding to be put down between uncontrollabe laughter.

You know him well enough to realise what he has in mind, but you refuse to give in too easily as you were still on the arena's ground –albeit in his fancy waiting room, tucked away from the prying eyes of his fans and reporters who wish for nothing more than a glimpse of their champion.

_ "Come on sweetheart please, no one would dare come near our door, trust me." he cooes cutely, almost pathetically to be honest, while plopping down on the comfy sofa with you on his lap.

It's useless to ask of him to wait until you reach home, his patience is running thin already, and the forming bulge poking your thigh is enough proof of that.

You sigh defeatedly and plant a small peck under the bruise surrounding his cut, "okay but we can't go all the way here."

He nods his head enthusiastically and leans back against the backrest of the sofa with an excited expression on his face as you start running your fingers over the protruding muscles of his chest, secretly grateful he is still in his boxing shorts and nothing else.

You wiggle yourself a bit and reach down to palm his clothed cock, giving it a few teasing squeezes while your lips latch onto his tense jaw.

_ "Baby please, stop tormenting me." he breathes out the plea, eyes squeezing shut and hips bucking against the slow movements of your hand.

He clutches onto your butt cheeks and pulls you even closer to himself, little moans of your name are fanning over your ear and travelling straight to your loins as the caresses on his bulge quicken.

He isn't the only one enjoying himself, oh definitely not, because watching him this desperate for your touch and craving a release that only you can grant him, is a reward in itself.

Your kisses move lower, from his jawline to his neck, and your teeth graze the sensitive skin covering his wild pulse while swiftly slipping your hand into his shorts to free the raging shaft from its confinement.

_ "Oh, what do we have here? A few little touches got you all worked up?" you whisper the remark teasingly, stroking the smooth head and admiring the clear precum collected on your thumb.

_ "This is on you princess, your hand is so warm and soft so please don't stop." his breathing is labored and hips are restless as he chased the blissful feeling of your fist around his cock, and you gladly give him what he wants, tightening your hold as you pumped him faster, and relishing the little twitches against your palm along with the blunt nails pressing into your thighs as your cute little skirt rode up around your waist.

You kiss him on the lips, effectively silencing the thirsty growls escaping his throat while he devours the smirk appearing on your face as his hand moved to encircle your own and guide it to move even faster.

He is desperate and itching for release, and seeing him in this state is coaxing a pleasant heat to pool into the pit of your tummy as you wished to have him buried deep inside you when he finally reaches his high, but that needs to wait until later, until you're home together, away from everyone who is certainly still clinging to the hope of seeing him tonight.

_ "Fuck.. fuck.. fuck.. baby girl I'm cumming!" he breaks the kiss to rasp out the words, moving the hand that's been holding your thigh, to gently cradle your neck instead. It's his way of bringing your face towards him as he cums, the image of you is what he wants carved into his brain when he finally loses control.

_ "Go ahead Eijiro, let it all out honey." you coo sweetly, biting down on your lip as he whined louder, and that is all it took for the ropes of his pearly seeds to erupt from his tip and coat your hand and his.

A wide smile finds its way to his flushed face as he finally relaxed underneath you, but then a sudden darkness creeps in his eyes as you moved your glistening fingers to your lips, licking and sucking every single digit clean.

_ "Yummy." and your teasing continues towards your poor boyfriend whose mouth is hanging open while watching you in awe, but then a sharp squeal tears past your throat as you found yourself on your back, sinking into the plush sofa with his menacing frame hovering over your writhing body.

_ "I'm sorry princess but you're being so unfair." and his hands are already stripping off your clothes as he spoke.

You should have known the moment you walked into the room with him, that just a little bit of touching would not be nearly enough to quench his insufferable thirst for you, not that you mind going further anyway.

_ "Okay Eijiro, I'm all yours."

[wrestlingmgc]

Impact Knockouts World Tag Team Champions The IInspiration

[dozyisdead]

I’ve never really thought about how lonely it must be to be a “First” until I got into F1. I’d like to explore that a little bit with you guys if you don’t mind.

1. Sir Lewis Hamilton

We all know what makes him a First, but there’s layers to it. Lewis is the First Black driver, First Black point scorer, First Black race winner, First Black championship winner. He is a lot of Firsts, and he’s set and broken so many records, he’s become so decorated. He’s a master of his craft, but that is where it gets lonely. I don’t know if many realize it, but racism is rampant in the world, despite how many will deny it, and it’s very rampant in Europe. Yes, I can’t speak much as an American, but at the same time we do not deny it and try to hide it so vehemently as some of Europe does. And in that world Lewis has talked about being called racial slurs from a young age, when he was still in karting. There’s a specific interview I keep thinking of, and it breaks my heart every time I think of it. Lewis has been set alone from the second he started, and he has never been to blame for it. But him being a First has become so Important, and I know he has people that make it known that he is not alone.

2. Zhou Guanyu

I don’t think people realize this, But Zhou is the first and only Chinese F1 driver to ever race. He has become a pillar of movement in that act, in a way like Lewis. I know there are obvious differences in their positions, but it’s still a monumental feat. We have know that F1 is dominated by Europeans, and yes there have been asian drivers before him, but to be the First for your country? It’s a position filled with pressure and can often be isolating, especially when you take language and culture into consideration. Not only is he one of two Asian drivers on the grid, he’s the only one who speaks his language. And I’m speaking from the perspective of someone who’s learning other languages when I say English is hell to learn. It’s my first language and I do not understand it at all, I can’t imagine how hard it is for someone who’s uses completely different characters like Yuki or Zhou. But Zhou, he is loved, and I wish people would acknowledge the steps he has made as a First, as someone who opened a door for others.

3. Logan Sargeant

The first American on the gird to score points in over 30 years. Yes, there had been other American drivers since Andretti’s 1993 season, Scott Speed and Alexander Rossi, but they did not score points. There’s actually something that I would like to point out regarding one of his predecessors, Mr. Speed, as they both completed a season and a half. But, that’s beside the point. Logan, be the first in a long time, in this century, is a lonely thing. There’s other drivers who I think can attest to that, but I feel like it’s a very unique thing, especially when you come from a place where something like F1 isn’t as big as say NASCAR, or even Indy. It’s a little film of separation that you can feel, no matter if it’s as thin as a spider web.

4. Ralf Schumacher

The First openly homosexual former driver who raced in F1, it’s a beautiful feeling to know he’s become comfortable enough to share it. I can imagine the hell it caused him mentally and emotionally to be in such a position that made it to where every moment could be taken out of context. And I would like to point out the impact he made, by not revealing it until later. The fact that we knew him first as a good driver and not as “the gay man in F1” is so important and people might not understand that. He is a First of ground-shaking proportions, and I sometimes wish we could have known sooner, but I also understand him so well. I’m the first openly queer person in my family, and as the first openly queer person in a partially south asian family, it’s terrifying. I can’t imagine how it would have been for him, in what we call the peak of motorsports, in a sport that has so much distaste for even women participating, if someone who was queer was to try. He has put himself on a pedestal that shows others that it’s okay to exist in that world, not just drive. You, Ralf Schumacher, have done so much more than you can think.

There are MANY more, I know, but those three have stood out to me recently. Everyone has their own little pedestal that they stand on, that shows how unique they are, but there is nothing quite like a First. I have so much love for all of these men, and so much joy and sorrow for them.

Being a First is lonely, I know it well and I have learned it well, but when you are in a sport that gives you no privacy like F1, it becomes even lonelier. They are human, and as other Firsts in our own lives and worlds, we must not forget that.

[could-they-be-a-pro-wrestler]

This is a poll blog that asks the question…could your favorite fictional character be a pro wrestler? Would you like to submit a character? Click this link if you do!

[coochiequeens]

An update to an older story that’s goods news!

When Jenny Nguyen signed the lease to create her dream bar, she wasn’t sure it would stay open for more than a few months.

But earlier this month, 43-year-old Nguyen’s first-of-its-kind establishment in Portland, Oregon, celebrated its one-year anniversary. Aptly named The Sports Bra, it’s a sports bar where only women athletes appear on the TVs.

Business has been good, despite the niche business model and record inflation sending food and beverage prices soaring. The Sports Bra brought in $944,000 in revenue in the eight months it was open in 2022, according to documents reviewed by CNBC Make It.

It was profitable in that first year of business, Nguyen adds.

“It turns out, it’s pretty universal — that feeling of being a women’s sports fan and going into a public place, like a sports bar, and having a difficult time finding a place to show a [women’s] game, especially when there are other men’s sports playing,” Nguyen says.

Initially, she wasn’t sure the idea would work at all. The vast majority of money and attention historically goes to men’s sports only — a big reason why The Sports Bra was reportedly the country’s first bar to only play women’s sports on TV.

It’s also not the kind of thing Nguyen would ordinarily do: She describes herself as “very cautious, risk averse.” But her obsession with women’s sports and frustration with its lack of representation on television screens drove her to empty her life savings — about $27,000 — and give it a try.

“Me, personally, I thought the idea was brilliant and that [it was] what the world needs,” Nguyen says. “But I had no idea that the world would want it. I just wanted to give it a shot.”

How The Sports Bra went from running joke to reality

Nguyen is a lifelong basketball fan who played the sport at Clark College in Vancouver, Washington, before tearing her ACL. She’s also a longtime restaurant worker who spent three years as Reed College’s executive chef.

In 2018, Nguyen and a group of friends wanted to watch the NCAA women’s basketball championship game. They went to a mostly empty sports bar and still had to plead with a bartender to switch one of the smallest TVs — which played without sound — from a men’s sport to the women’s championship game, she recalls.

Together, they jumped up and down celebrating “one of the best games I’ve ever seen,” Nguyen says, as a buzzer-beating three-point shot sealed the championship title for Notre Dame. Afterward, she was struck by the normalcy of her situation.

″[We’d] gotten so used to watching a game like that in the way that we did,” she says, adding that they’d only find better viewing conditions “if we had our own place.”

Days later, she channeled her disappointment into a hypothetical: What would she name her bar? “The very first thing that came into my mind was The Sports Bra,” Nguyen says. “And once I thought it, I couldn’t un-think it, you know? It was catchy. I thought it was hilarious.”

For years, she joked about it. Then, the fallout from social justice movements like #MeToo and the country’s racial reckoning after George Floyd’s murder left her wanting to make a meaningful impact on the world and her community.

Nguyen, who came out as a lesbian at age 17, says she doesn’t always feel welcome at most traditional sports bars. The Sports Bra could help her, and anyone else who’d rarely felt accepted in other sports establishments, feel like she belonged.

“I thought about, if we can even get one kid in here and have them feel like they belong in sports, it’d be worth it,” she says.

Helping other women’s sports bars get started

At first, Nguyen had her savings, and $40,000 in loans cobbled together from friends and family. That would keep The Sports Bra afloat for three months, based on her cost estimates for labor, inventory and other overhead.

In February 2022, she launched a Kickstarter to raise $48,000 — enough money for an extra six-month financial cushion, to build up the sort of regular clientele any bar or restaurant needs to survive long-term.

To Nguyen’s surprise, the campaign raised more than $105,000 in just 30 days, thanks to a viral article in online food publication Eater. “At that moment, when I was looking at that Kickstarter graph, I thought to myself, ‘This might work,’” she says.

But the money, which came from around the country and world, was no guarantee of success. Actual people in Portland still needed to frequent the bar.

Today, there’s often a line out the door. Women’s basketball icons like Sue Bird and Diana Taurasi showed up, for an event sponsored by Buick, earlier this month. Ginny Gilder, co-owner of the WNBA’s Seattle Storm, has even waited in line to watch her team play on The Sports Bra’s TVs, Nguyen says.

That’s a far cry from the Kickstarter days, which Nguyen says only happened after she was denied business loans by multiple banks and small business associations. The denials commonly cited the high risk of a unique concept run by a first-time entrepreneur during a pandemic, she adds.

Even the bar’s core concept is a struggle: It’s hard to find enough women’s sporting events to fill up the televisions. Only about 5% of all TV sports coverage focuses on female athletes, according to a 2021 University of Southern California study.

Nguyen says she’s taken to reaching out directly to sports networks and streaming services, some of which have hooked her up with access to more women’s sports content. She also spends an inordinate amount of time “scouring” TV listings, a process she likens to “taking a machete and chopping through a jungle.”

But she’s no longer alone. Another bar specializing in women’s sports has opened in nearby Seattle, and Nguyen says she’s in touch with a handful of other prospective entrepreneurs asking her for advice on opening similar visions in other cities.

“I would love to have as many people experience the feeling people experience when they walk through these doors,” she says. “It feels very selfish to keep it to this one building that holds 40 people at a time.”

[thescarletnargacuga]

I have an idea! :D A boxer! Au (by @/burrotello) where pomni is tired after a fight, and Caine is with her talking. then it turns somehow in a romantic moment

A/N: Boxer AU! Let's gooooo!

KNOCK OUT

A BOXER AU ONESHOT

AU credit: @burrotello

WARNING: physical violence, blood

~~~

The seconds counted down on the ninth round. Gangle was torn and frayed, her mask cracked. Pomni was bruised and bleeding, one eye refusing to open from the swelling. Both women circled each other looking for an opening, but they couldn't delay, if time ran out the match would be called a draw and neither of them would advance.

Gangle swung a wide haymaker for Pomni's ribs, which was blocked. While Pomni's hands were down, Gangle's other fist came up to strike Pomni in the face.Pomni's head jerked back harshly from the impact and she went down.

Caine circles the outside of the ring to where Pomni fell. "COME ON!! GET UP!! YOU CAN FINISH THIS!!" He shouted over the roaring crowd.

The ref counted the precious seconds Pomni had to recover. "One! Two! Three!"

Pomni rolled onto her knees and shakily lifted herself up, clinging to the ring ropes for support. She spit blood and saliva out from her gum guard.

"Four! Five! Six!" The ref continued. Pomni needed to show signs that she could keep fighting or he would call her defeated by the end of the ten count.

Caine sweated hearing how close the ref was to calling the match over. "I KNOW YOU CAN DO THIS!! LAST ROUND!! LAST CHANCE!!"

Pomni made eye contact with Caine. She was exhausted, but his encouragement gave her a second wind. She got off the ropes and steadied herself for the final minute left on the clock.

"Seven! Eigh-" The ref stopped counting and backed away, allowing the round to continue. "Box!"

Gangle couldn't hide her frustration that Pomni didn't stay down. Her ribbons whipped wildly across the ring as she aggressively went in for the kill.

Pomni stayed focused, ducking under two swings and taking a jab of opportunity at Gangle's center mass. She quickly sidestepped and swung a hard right hook into Gangle's ribs from behind.

Gangle was desperate, throwing wild swing after wild swing just hoping one would land.

Pomni went low to dodge a swing and saw a window of opportunity. She clenched her right hand and came up with all the power she could muster, upper cutting Gangle hard in the chin.

Gangle's mask nearly shattered, tiny fragments flew in all directions. She collapsed and didn't get up.

The ref checked Gangle. "KNOCK OUT!" The bell rang and the crowd went ballistic.

Caine was jumping up and down like a wild man. "YEAAAAAH! THAT'S MY GIRL!!"

The ref took Pomni's wrist and held it in the air. She was barely standing, but still took in the moment of victory. It was well deserved. The arena announcer came over the speakers. "Lightweight rookie Pomni has cemented her place in the SEMI-FINALS!"

As Pomni's adrenaline slowly faded, she felt too weak to stand. Medics that arrived to take away Gangle also helped Pomni out of the ring. Caine followed them out of the arena, leaving the deafening crowds behind.

Pomni was sat and Caine forced himself to her side, shouldering a medic in his excitement. "Pomni! Pomni! You were fantastic out there! That's the kind of grit and determination that makes a fighter! You have the championship in the bag!"

Pomni spat out her gum guard, along with another mouthful of blood and spit. "Thash grape..." She slurred heavily and coughed. Everything hurt. She could tell just by breathing she had cracked ribs.

The medic Caine pushed aside, pushed back. "Hey, I'm trying to do my job here."

Caine backed off, hands up in surrender. "I'll leave you to it. I'll be back in a bit, Pomni!" He ran off and found Bubble "Sooooo how much money did we make?" He giddily asked his assistant.

"You're gonna love this, boss. That win, along with a win from a certain bet against a certain someone, we just made over $30,000."

Caine's jaw almost hit the floor. "Hot tamales! I knew it, Bubble! She's the one! She's our million dollar fighter!" He grabbed Bubble and shook him. "Oh, I can't wait to wipe the snooty grin off of the Gloink Queen's face! We're coming for her champion, baby! Ha!"

"ThAaAt'sss GRreAat, bOoOosSs." Bubbled words warped with his body from the shaking.

~

The next day, Pomni woke up sore in her hotel room. She was heavily bandaged and it hurt to move, but she found herself feeling hungry. Just as she was sitting herself up to reach for pain meds, someone knocked on her door.

"Room service." Caine's voice came from the other side.

Pomni furrowed her brows in amusement and slowly got to her feet. Once upright, walking wasn't too bad. She answered the door in an oversized T-shirt covering most of her. "Hey..." She said with a sleepy smile.

Caine was holding a tray of food from the hotel cafeteria. "Good morning!"

Pomni winced. "Tone it down, would you? My ears are still ringing."

"Sorry. I brought you breakfast before they stopped serving. You've been asleep all morning."

Pomni didn't even know what time it was, nor did she really care. "Right...well, I won't say no to breakfast in bed." She opened the door wider to let Caine in.

Caine hadn't expected to be invited in, but he wasn't going to refuse. He set the tray on the bed and sat in the chair across from it. "What a show yesterday. Real nail biter. I'm so glad you pulled through."

Pomni sat on the bed next to her tray and munched a piece of toast. "Yeah, I'll be honest. I wasn't sure about this one. Gangle is a beast when you push her hard enough. She nearly took out my eye." She pointed to the bandage covering her left eye. The swelling had gone down significantly, but it was going to need more time to heal completely.

"If she had, she would have been disqualified. While she can certainly be rough, I don't think she would have jeopardized her position in the semi-finals over your eye. That being said, I'm glad she didn't hurt you any more than that." Caine's eyes roamed over Pomni's body, examining each bruise and bandage. He lingered a bit longer on her bare legs, she was wearing only underwear under her large shirt hanging off her shoulder.

"Ribs took quite a beating. So did my shoulder. I'll be fine, but this recovery is going to suck." She laughed but gripped her side and sucked in air between her teeth. Laughing was a no no until further notice. "Ow..."

Caine shook himself from distraction and dug in his pocket for a small pill bottle. "Here, take two of these. They'll help you rest."

"What is it?" Pomni asked before downing them both with a swig of orange juice.

"Let's just say they're really strong pain killers. You'll feel better in no time."

Pomni learned that when Caine was vague, sometimes it was in her best interest not to ask more questions. She took a bit of egg. "Thank you, by the way."

"Don't mention it. It pays to have friends in the pharmacy." He chuckled.

"Not that. Well, yeah, thank you for that, but I mean thank you for cheering me on when the fight got really hairy. If you weren't there, I don't think I would have finished." She gave him a genuine smile.

Caine's breath was taken from him for a second. Her looking at him like that with her hair disheveled and clothes so relaxed was doing something for him. He blushed and tried to hide it, though very poorly. "Hey, what are managers for? I told you we could go far and look at us now! On our way to the semi-finals for the champion title! And you know what that comes with..." He rubbed his fingers together.

"Money." Pomni rolled her eyes with an amused smirk.

"MONEY!" Caine shouted, hushing himself when Pomni winced again. "Sorry."

"Save the cheering for the arena." Pomni finished her breakfast, pushing the tray away.

"Oh, I don't need to be in the arena to cheer your name." Caine said faster than his head could process.

"What..?" Pomni blushed a little, more caught off guard than embarrassed.

"What? Uh, I'll take that downstairs for you." Caine got up quickly, red as a beet, and grabbed the tray. "I should let you sleep, you need it if you're going to be champion. We have to travel again tomorrow. Media events, training, etcetera. You need to be extra ready for your next opponent. They only get tougher from here." He clumsily backed away from her, struggling to keep the empty cutlery on the tray.

"Okay....bye...see you....uh?" Pomni watched him side-step awkwardly to the door.

"Tomorrow morning. You have the whole day to yourself. Yep. Call the front desk if you need anything. I've got uh...a thing. Bye." He dropped a napkin on his way out the door.

Pomni smiled to herself and relaxed in bed. The pain killers did their job, she felt so much better. She could breath without wanting to scream. She turned on the TV, but all her mind wanted to do was think of what Caine said. How nervous he was afterwards was adorable, and he was rarely cute. Everything he's done for her, even in his own interests, has made them close friends, but was it normal to have a crush on your manager?

~

Caine wanted to smack himself. Why did he say that out loud? She didn't need to hear that. What if she thinks he's creeping on her? He can't jeopardize this!! He wished his heart would stop beating so fast.

[darkesttiimelines]

Throughout history, women have left an undeniable impact on society with their hard work, creativity, and dedication to progress. Unfortunately, their accomplishments have often gone unnoticed, been undervalued, or even stolen. Despite these challenges, brave women of today continue to push boundaries, break barriers, and pave the way for a more fair and equal world. It's our duty to keep going, so that future generations of women can inherit a kinder, more just, and supportive world. By following in the footsteps of the incredible women who came before us, we can create a world where every woman can flourish and succeed, and where their contributions are recognized and celebrated.

Joan of Arc is a patron saint of France, honored as a defender of the French nation for her role in the siege of Orléans and her insistence on the coronation of Charles VII of France during the Hundred Years' War. Claiming to be acting under divine guidance, she became a military leader who transcended gender roles and gained recognition as a savior of France. She was put on trial by Bishop Pierre Cauchon on accusations of heresy, which included blaspheming by wearing men's clothes, acting upon visions that were demonic, and refusing to submit her words and deeds to the judgment of the church. She was declared guilty and burned at the stake on 30 May 1431, aged about nineteen.

Rani Lakshmibai was the Maharani consort of the princely state of Jhansi from 1843 to 1853. She was one of the leading figures in the Indian Rebellion of 1857 became a symbol of resistance to the British rule in India for Indian nationalists. When the Maharaja died in 1853, the British East India Company under Governor-General Lord Dalhousie refused to recognize the claim of his adpoted heir and annexed Jhansi under the Doctrine of Lapse. She rode into battle with her infant son strapped to her back, and died in June 1858 after being mortally wounded during the British counterattack at Gwalior.

Rosalind Franklin was a British chemist and X-ray crystallographer whose work was instrumental in the discovery of the structure of DNA. Her contributions were largely overlooked by her male colleagues, James Watson and Francis Crick, who used her data without her permission or acknowledgement. This theft of her intellectual property and erasure of her contributions is a prime example of the systemic sexism that has historically plagued the scientific community.

Hedy Lamarr was an Austrian-American actress and inventor who co-invented a frequency-hopping spread spectrum technology during World War II that was used to guide torpedoes. However, her contributions were largely ignored and dismissed by male engineers and the military at the time. It was only later in life that she received recognition for her scientific achievements.

Emma Weyant is an American competitive swimmer. She was the US national champion at the individual medley. She qualified for the 2020 Olympic Games in the 400m individual medley and won the silver medal in this event. Weyant finished second in the 500-yard freestyle at the 2022 NCAA Division I Women's Swimming and Diving Championships. She was beaten by William (Lia) Thomas, a fetishist, who when competing as a member of the Penn men's team, which was 2018-19, ranked 554th in the 200 freestyle, 65th in the 500 freestyle and 32nd in the 1650 freestyle. Weyant is the fastest swimmer in the 500-yard freestyle and had her position stolen by a man.

Maryna Viazovska is a Ukrainian mathematician who made a breakthrough in sphere packing, solving the centuries-old mathematical problem known as the densest packing of spheres in dimensions 8 and 24. She was awarded the Fields Medal in July 2022, making her the second woman (after Maryam Mirzakhani), the second person born in the Ukrainian SSR and the first with a degree from a Ukrainian university to ever receive it.

Hannie Schaft was a Dutch resistance fighter during World War II who played a crucial role in the resistance movement against Nazi occupation. Schaft was a former university student who dropped out because she refused to sign a pledge of loyalty to Germany. Nazis arrested and killed her in 1945, just three weeks before the war ended in Europe. According to lore, Schaft’s last words were, “I’m a better shot,” after initially only being wounded by her executioner.

Shakuntala Devi was an Indian mathematician and mental calculator who was known as the "Human Computer" for her exceptional ability to perform complex mathematical calculations in her head. Her extraordinary abilities earned her a place in the 1982 Guinness Book of Records. Her lesser known achievement is that in 1977 she wrote what is considered to be the first book in India on homosexuality titled “The World of Homosexuals.”  

J. K. Rowling is a British author and philanthropist. She wrote Harry Potter, a seven-volume children's fantasy series published from 1997 to 2007. Known for her philanthropy, she was doxxed and harassed after coming out with support for women's and gay rights in 2020. Rowling secretly donated hundreds of thousands of pounds to save 100 female lawyers and their families facing murder in Afghanistan. In 2022, she funded a women's only rape shelter in Edinburgh.