#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 Deonna Purrazzo

[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.

[wrestlinghistorywithkay]

Dark Side of The Ring Season 6, Episode 9 Review

( TW : Mentions of Alcoholism , Bullying , Mental Health, Concussions , Broken Arm , Guns , Suicide , CTE, Health Problems )

Episode Name : ‘ The Scream Queen Daffney ’

Key Points Of The Episode :

- As a child , Daffney ( born Shannon Spruill ) , would star in 3 movies

- Army Brat

- Had a passion for acting and sports

- In 1999, Daffney would audition for WCW and make her debut as the girlfriend of David Flair and be the valet for Flair and Crowbar. This was only supposed to be for a short time , therefore , she got over and was kept on tv until 2001. She would wrestle on the Independent Circuit and have a short developmental deal with WWE. She would also be the second woman to win the WCW Cruiserweight Championship.

- In 2003 , she would step away from the ring to take care of her mental health after being diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. She would return to the ring and it was in the women’s wrestling promotion , Shimmer , she would reconnect with her fanbase and reclaim her spot in wrestling .

- She would be signed to TNA in 2008 as a parody of former Alaska Governor and Vice-Presidental Candidate , Sarah Palin. With this storyline , she would feud with the beautiful people and re-emerge as Daffney with the help of Dr.Stevie .

- Daffney would compete in hardcore matches , which were hardly seen amongst the TNA Knockouts division. During her time in the promotion, she would suffer two concussions and a broken arm. She would sue TNA for Worker’s Compensation and the company would give her copies of her action figure instead of what she requested. She would retire in 2011.

- Would suffer from Manic Depression

- She would make appearances at conventions and on the independent circuit doing autograph sessions and selling merch.

- She would also struggle with Alcoholism and be arrested for a DUI.

- Daffney would soon be bullied by fans online for her weight due to Thyroid issues. This would cause her to have confidence issues.

- Was an advocate for mental health and would encourage people to take care of their brain. Was also working with NAMI.

- On September 21,2021 , Daffney would go live on social media app, Instagram, reading a suicide note . She requested her brain be donated for CTE research. She would make her father keep his promise to make sure this would happen . She would end her own life by a gunshot wound.

- Daffney will be remembered as a trailblazer in wrestling and bringing women’s wrestlers together. She was known for building up her fellow wrestlers and making sure they were okay.

My Review:

This episode made me emotional. I felt sorry for Daffney the entire time. I am disgusted with how she was treated by TNA when she was dealing with injuries. She deserved so much better. The DSOTR team really outdid themselves with this episode . One lesson I think that we can learn from this episode is to reach out if you are struggling. There is always someone out there who can help you. Also, the interviews with her father and her brother are really what got me. If I could go back and tell Daffney anything , I would tell her that she was loved and that she wasn’t alone. I would also thank her for everything.

Suicide Hotline : 988

Please please please do not and I mean do not be afraid to reach out to myself or anyone for help if you feel like you are alone. - Kay

[daminouspurity]

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

[krakenandsnackin]

Meet the Team: PWHL Seattle Mini-Primer

Hello! I am mostly a lurker and reblogger here but I am a Kraken fan and a newly minted PWHL Seattle fan. I have been paying peripheral attention to the PWHL (takeover tour game was LIT), but now that we are getting our own team I wanted to start digging my teeth in. Posting here to help build the community, but I am brand new to this so please let me know what I missed so I can refine the mini-primer as we go!

The vibes I am getting of this team so far…

Stacked as hell

Everyone watches women's sports

We love lesbians

Thanks especially to krackencord friends for the help getting started!!

Meet the first five...

Hilary Knight #21 aka Knighter

One of the best hockey players of all time 🐐 and Captain America 🇺🇸.

She was captain of the Boston Fleet.

“Signing Hilary Knight was an absolute no-brainer - she’s the heartbeat of any team she joins" Said PWHL Seattle General Manager Megan Turner.

She is a self proclaimed Kraken enjoyer and loves the city of Seattle, joined Alison Lukan & Linda Cohn during a Kraken broadcast this season.

She kinda grew up/has family in Sun Valley Idaho so about as local as you can get for this area of the US.

True champion of women’s hockey. Has been on the frontlines for years causing trouble and forcing the issue of adequate facilities, travel, staff and pay. Uses her superstar status to make change, has been a part of the players union leadership since day one.

Dating another Olympian - US Speedskater Brittany Bowe (can you say power couple?)

She's 35 but not slowing down yet! Tied for PWHL points leader last season and second in goals. I cant list all her other accomplishments and awards because it would take forever.

Forward, from Palo Alto, California (Also grew up in Illinois and New Hampshire) signed to a 1 year deal.

Danielle Serdachny #92 aka Dax

Second overall pick in the draft last year but played bottom minutes last season (Seattle hockey loves a fresh start).

Seattle GM Megan Turner said: "She’s strong, plays through contact, and she’s only beginning to tap into her full potential"

Regarding her first season in the PWHL: "I didn't have as much of an impact as I hoped I would in my rookie year but I think this fresh start will be really good for me, the opportunity to play." under a new staff and new teammates... I hope I can turn some heads this year." (can't escape the narrative)

Scored the OT game winner to secure Team Canada the gold at women's worlds last year.

All time leading scorer at Colgate University.

Came from the Walter Cup runners up - the Ottawa Charge.

Forward from Edmonton, Alberta signed to a 2 year deal.

UPDATE: Seattle Kraken Assistant Coach/Icon Jess Campbell coached Serdachny in 2018/19 to a championship in the CSSHL (high school hockey?) and is excited to see her come to Seattle!!!

Cayla Barnes #3

LITERALLY ONE APPLE TALL (5'2")

Also coming off her rookie season, was drafted 5th overall by Montreal.

Cali gal who got her start playing roller hockey.

Has a chocolate lab named Hulk.

Another noted queer and dating a goalie!

She led the Victoire in time on ice last season.

Already a two time Olympic Medalist at 26.

Longer term deal, she's gonna be part of the core of the team.

GM Megan Turner "Even as a rookie last season, she played with the poise and presence of a veteran, and we see her playing a key role on our blue line."

Dynamic puck mover.

Defender from Eastvale (Corona), California signed to a 3 year deal.

Alex Carpenter #25 aka Carpy

The PWHL's all-time third leading scorer.

Her being left unprotected by NY was likely the biggest surprise of the protection lists, she also wore an A for them.

GMMT (is this anything?) says: “She’s an elite two-way player who has proven to be one of the best in the world for years, and she has the ability to take over a game at both ends of the ice. She’s hungry to win and brings the kind of drive that sets the tone for a team."

Patty Kazmaier Award Winner

Was on the US national team, got cut, then won her spot back and helped the team win gold in

Is also queer! Wife is an assistant equipment managers for the Toronto Marlies.

Plays Mario Kart as Mario…?

Eldest daughter!!!! to Bobby Carpenter who played in the NHL for 18 seasons and won 1 Stanley Cup as a player and 2 as a coach with the Devils.

She participated in the 2023 NHL All-Star skills competition.

Forward from North Reading, Massachussets signed to a 1 year contract.

Corinne Schroeder #30 aka Schroeds

Shutout QUEEN! Recorded the first-ever shutout in the first-ever PWHL game and led the league with 4 shutouts with NY last season. The league record is 5 which she also holds…

Fan made sign and goalie chant enjoyer.

Grew up on an egg farm and has a cute Manitoba? accent

Sickest pads in in the PWHL.

 GMMT says “She brings poise, confidence, and the kind of elite goaltending every team needs to win, and we can’t wait to see her between the pipes for us.”

Goalie from Elm Creek, Manitoba signed to a 2 year contract.

Sidenote about her hometown…Population of 339. Claim to fame? Home to the second largest fire hydrant in Canada, and Corinne Schroeder. No literally she is the ONLY NOTABLE PERSON ON THEIR WIKIPEDIA PAGE!

Additional sidenote, comment section consensus among NY Sirens fans is that we got their two best players ( sorry u guys okay over there?)

Media to endear you

This Comment ⬆️ ⬆️ ⬆️

Goodbye videos for Knight, Schroeder, Barnes (second slide), Serdachny and Carpenter. These let us get to know them a little better and some sick highlights.

The past and future GOATS of Seattle women's sports (with special guests retired from the Storm and Reign 👀👀)

First ever jersey video (with Knight and Serdachny!)

Hilary Knight interview on an old Sound of Hockey interview ep. 71 where she talks about her connection to the PNW. (I CANNOT FIND THIS ANYWHERE PLEASE HELP)

Bonus big n' lil

Already obsessed with the narratives. See y'all after the expansion draft on Monday!!

[inksoakedparchment]

WHEN THE WALLS FALL

pairing: cm punk x fem!reader

genre: fluff, smut, angst

trope: frenemies to lovers

word cunt: 2,329k

tw: age gap (you're in your twenties and he's in his forties), smut - spanking, dirty talk, p in v, unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving)

a/n: motivation is back i guess, he’s my new muse<33

song: take me down by hazel

masterlist

Your relationship with Phil is, well, quite odd to say at least. You and Phil became friends when you joined WWE and he just approached and welcomed you warmly. It was strange at first because when you watched WWE and him on TV, he was a damn asshole - but still he was your favourite. Then within a few months, you started hang out as friends, then on a night when you were drunk, - he was drinking Pepsi - leaned in and captured his lips in a soft kiss. When you leaned back he was staring at you with widened eyes and totally shocked by your actions. The next day you met at work and he asked you out but you laughed and said the previous night’s kiss was a mistake and you were drunk. He pressed his lips together and just nodded and from then you’ve been in a frenemy status. Not friends anymore, not enemies but something is off and this hatred is still between you. He’s angry because you rejected him after you kissed him, you’re furious because he’s avoiding you like it’s his full-time job.

Before your biggest match tonight against Rhea Ripley - for the Women’s World Championship title -, he approaches you with a serious expression.

“Good luck tonight, Angel,” his face softens with a smile.

“Thank you,” you look into his gorgeous green eyes which are full of support.

You turn around as your entrance song ‘Rein Raus’ by Rammstein starts playing after Rhea gets in the ring and you start walking in confidently.

You’re mouthing the lyrics, it’s one of your favourite songs so it was obvious this gonna be your entrance song, it’s powerful with dirty meaning. Perfect.

The match is still going after twenty minutes when you finally drop your bomb; ‘Flames’. Your finisher move. With a fierce rush, you execute a powerful double underhook DDT, spinning her in midair before slamming her headfirst to the mat. The impact is so intense, that the crowd collectively gasps, holding their breath. You don’t stop there. You quickly climb on the top rope and spring off into a Phoenix Splash, landing perfectly on Ripley. You pin her down, the referee starts counting and then the bell rings. You stand up in disbelief, she couldn’t kick out your pin. A smile spreads across your face as you close your eyes and in a moment the title is in your hands. You climb on the top rope holding the belt in the air and the crowd chants your name like it’s a pray.

After you change into comfy clothes in the locker room, ready to leave, he leans on the doorframe.

“Congratulations, Y/N,” he smirks and nods proudly.

“My body is screaming in pain, Mami is reckless,” you laugh “But thanks, it means a lot actually.”

“You’re the Women’s World Champion, Angel. You should be proud,” his eyes soften and you feel your stomach flip.

Angel. The nickname he gave you when he first saw you in all-white gear with extreme white makeup. Punk complimented you before, then after the match, he said you look like an angel and a goddess at the same time. But your angelic eyes made him stuck with Angel.

“I’m proud to be honest. I earned my title and I fought for it a lot,” you smile at him.

“You sure did,” he laughs softly “Have a good night, Y/N.”

“You too, Phil.”

When he turns around a piece of paper falls out of his back pocket but he doesn’t notice. Punk disappears behind the corner as he makes his way out. You pick up the paper and fold it out, revealing words. Lots of words. It’s a damn letter. You look around and when you make sure you’re alone you sit down on the bench and start reading it.

‘Dear Angel,

I’ve written a hundred letters to you, and I never had the guts to give you a single one. This one’s no different. I don’t even know why I’m writing it now, but here I am. I don’t think I’ll ever give it to you, but I guess sometimes you have to get things off your chest, even if they never see the light of day.

I’ve been standing here, watching you win tonight, and I don’t think I’ve ever been more proud of you. You’ve worked so damn hard for this, Angel. I’ve always known you had it in you, but watching you finally take that belt? That’s something else.

It’s funny, though. I’ve been thinking about that night two years ago more than I’d like to admit. We hung out, you got drunk, and yeah, you kissed me. You were stumbling, and I was just there—doing my best to keep it together while you had your fun. I didn’t drink, I don’t do any of that, but I couldn’t help but feel… something. And the next day, I asked you out. I’m sure you remember it. You rejected me. Said it was a mistake, that you were drunk and it didn’t mean anything.

I wasn’t pissed off. Hell, I was probably more disappointed in myself for even thinking there could be something there. Maybe you didn’t want someone like me. Maybe I’m just too damn old, grumpy, and set in my ways for someone like you. I mean, maybe that’s why you rejected me, right? I’ve got this edge about me, and the age gap—hell, it’s probably just another thing to add to the list of reasons why I’m not what you’re looking for.

But here’s the thing, Angel. I’ve been lying to myself ever since. I’ve been acting like I don’t care, like it doesn’t matter, but it does. I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this now—maybe it’s because tonight, watching you with that championship, I can’t pretend anymore. I’m proud of you. I respect you. I don’t care if you never feel the same way, but I can’t keep pretending I’m not still a little hung up on you.

I’m not asking for anything, Angel. Don’t worry, I’m not about to lay all of this at your feet. I’m not going to make things complicated. I’m straight edge, I’ve always kept my distance, and I’ll keep doing that. But I needed to write this, for myself. To stop pretending I don’t feel this way.

You’re a champion. You always have been. I guess I’ve just been too scared to admit how much you mean to me.

Anyway, this letter probably won’t ever see the light of day. You won’t ever know it exists, and that’s okay. Maybe it’s for the best. But just know, somewhere out there, I’m still cheering you on.

Punk’

Your tears are flowing down your cheeks, regretting these two years you avoided your feelings for him. God, you’ve been in love with him since you first talked to him and he made you become his friend. You still can’t forget that kiss, his soft lips on yours, kissing you back. The surprise in his eyes being slowly replaced by desire but he took you home and tucked you in bed.

You stand up still crying, the letter in your coat’s inner pocket and you start running like you do it for your life. Actually, you are. Because it’s your life and you want him to be in your damn life as a lover. As a partner.

When you reach his house, soaking wet because of the rain, you lie on the bell. He opens the door only in grey sweatpants clearly confused.

“What are you doing here, Angel? Did you run? Jesus, you’re soaked,” he sighs and pulls you in.

“What is this?” you take out the letter from your pocket and push it on his chest.

The air stuck in Punk’s lungs and slides his hand on the letter, staring into your soul.

“Did you read it?” he asks with fear.

“That’s why I'm here, dumbass,” you laugh bittersweet as you take off your coat and kick your boots off.

“How did you—”

“—It fell out of your pocket. And you disappeared before I could take it after you,” you wipe away a tear “Do you really feel this way?”

“I do,” he mutters under his breath.

“Oh my god,” you laugh and grab the back of his neck, crashing your lips to his.

He kisses you back but in a second he gently pushes you away.

“Angel, what was this?” he lets the letter fall on the ground and cups your cheeks in his hands.

“I don’t know why I rejected you two years ago. I was afraid that I’d be a young toy for you. I was afraid I’d fall for you damn hard. But I did anyway,” you swallow nervously.

“So you say we’ve been feeling the same thing for two years now? And neither of us did anything?” he laughs bitterly.

“Looks like,” you shut your eyes.

“Look at me, Y/N,” he lifts your chin and you open your eyes.

He leans in and kisses you deeply with hunger and frustration. The situation quickly turns heated and your hands slide on his naked chest, he grabs your thighs and lifts you up effortlessly. You wrap your legs around his waist and he carries you into his bedroom and throws you on the bed.

“You thought I only wanted you as a toy back then?” he grabs your ankles and yanks you to the edge of the bed “I’m going to play with you. You’re my dirty little slut, my nasty toy from now on. And I’m going to make sure you will never forget this night, and me,” he whispers in your ear and shivers go down your spine “Got it?”

“Mhm,” you hum. The heat which radiates from his body makes you weak. His words make you feel you’re going to cum right now.

“Good girl,” he smirks and takes off your jeans with your thong and throws it away “You’re so damn wet for me, Angel,” he mutters on your inner thigh and presses sloppy kisses on it. In a second he buries his head in your pussy, and a loud moan escapes your lips. His tongue - oh my holy fuck - fucks you. Licking and eating you out like you’re his last dinner, sucking on your clit while looking into your eyes.

“Phil,” you moan his name “I’m gonna cum,” you grip his hair and press his face more into your pussy.

“Not yet, Angel,” he leans back grinning with your juices on his chin.

You groan impatiently. He grabs you and puts you on middle of the bed, then takes off your t-shirt.

“No bra? You filthy slut,” he sucks on your nipples, while you arch your back for him.

He kisses your body everywhere he can, and then he takes off his sweatpants, kneeling on the bed naked.

“How is that gonna fit in me?” you look at his penis then into his eyes.

“Oh, Angel. I’ll make it fit,” he smirks and he climbs on top of you, positioning himself between your legs.

Without hesitation, he pushes his dick inside you, with one, long thrust. You cry out his name loudly, making sure his neighbours going to know who’s living in this house.

“Jesus Angel, you’re so damn tight,” he sucks in a sharp breath.

He starts thrusting first slowly and when you start moaning in pleasure, he picks up a rough pace. Your hips meet with loud sounds which makes you feel more desired. His hunger is apparent in his groans and whimpers. Before you could cum, he slides out of you and he turns you on your stomach and pulls your ass up.

“Count to ten. This is your punishment for making me wait this long for your delicious pussy and your perfect heart,” and he slaps your ass light.

“One,” you hum. The second slap is way stronger than the first.

“Two,” you moan softly. The third? Ruthless. Finally, you reach ten, and your ass cheeks are burning, and your pleasure is dripping down on your inner thigh.

He positions himself behind you and slams into your pussy and starts fucking you like a damn animal. He turns you on your back and grabs your throat tightly while rocking his hips to yours.

“My little, kinky slut. I feel your pussy squeeze around my dick as I apply pressure on your perfect throat. Like your new necklace, Angel?” he pants as he throws his head back. He looks like a fucking god.

“Yeah,” you force out the answer. You can’t think just feel. You feel everything. He grabs your hips and you already feel the marks of his hands are going to be there tomorrow.

He doesn't slow down, if it’s possible he just fastens his pace.

“Cum for me, Angel,” he groans.

And this pushes you over the edge. You scream his name, tightening around him and his dick twitches, cumming inside you.

He leans down and kisses your jawline then your lips with affection and care. And with love.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispers on your lips, staring into your soul.

“I love you too, Phil,” you smile at him softly.

He slowly pulls out of you and goes for a warm, wet towel and takes care of you. Wiping away your and his mixed cum which is dripping out of you, then he gives you one of his boxers and t-shirt, but he sees how exhausted are you and dresses you up. He puts on sweatpants too then climbs next to you, pulling you close to his body.

“Please be here when I wake up,” he whispers, begging with his eyes.

“I would never leave,” you shake your head and snuggle to his chest “I love you,” you close your eyes and immediately drift off to sleep.

“My Angel,” he presses a kiss on your temple and slowly falls asleep too.

taglist: @sunkissedscribbles @kandis-mom @idkkkkkkk123lgb @siriusblackslefttoenail

[tcifob]

Not done yet: Christen Press embracing her role as Angel City’s elder stateswoman

By Kevin Baxter

It doesn’t seem that long ago that Christen Press was helping the national team to consecutive World Cup titles. She was unstoppable then, a key cog in the greatest women’s soccer team in history.

Yet she played her 155th and final match for the U.S. in the Tokyo Olympics.

It doesn’t seem that long ago that Press, just 18 days removed from those Olympics, became the first player signed by expansion club Angel City. She was bringing the NWSL to her hometown and was being rewarded with what was then the richest contract in league history.

Yet she’s started just 10 games since then, losing most of the last three seasons to a stubborn anterior cruciate ligament injury that took four surgeries to repair.

Press eventually will be inducted into the National Soccer Hall of Fame, but she isn’t ready for that trip just yet. If her body isn’t always willing, her mind and her heart are still keen on the sport, so Press makes her most valuable contributions now in the quiet of the locker room.

At 36, she has completed the transition from wunderkind to elder stateswoman. And on a Angel City team with 13 players under the age of 25, her presence is being felt.

“It’s a different role. I wasn’t that type of person,” said Press, who admits she has grown into the job.

“When I was 20 I didn’t have a relationship with a senior player like they have with me. I’m enjoying the presence that I have with these young players.”

Press has paid special attention to Alyssa Thompson, the 20-year-old Angel City player whose early career may be most reminiscent of her own, taking the locker next to Thompson in the team’s spacious dressing room.

Both are Southern California natives who played soccer and ran track in high school, led their teams to CIF titles and won national player of the year awards. Both committed to play for Stanford — Press went, Thompson didn’t.

But Thompson’s career is just starting while Press is winding hers down. So the most valuable thing she can offer now is advice.

“The thing that I’m good at is scoring goals. It is an art and I love it,” Press said. “I’m now kind of showing Alyssa how I trained to become a goal scorer. How you can think about goal-scoring in a very nuanced and methodical way.

“I’m learning as I teach her. I’m seeing the ways that she approaches it differently. It’s just kind of a spirit of collaboration I see as a win-win for everybody.”

Thompson agrees, saying she appreciates the chance to learn from a master.

“She’s definitely my mentor,” Thompson said. “She’s entering a new era of her career and she still wants to continue to play and stuff like that. But when she’s not playing, she’s able to [offer] her guidance and support.”

Goalkeeper Angelina Anderson, the team’s vice captain and, at 24, a key member of Angel City’s youth movement, isn’t sure Press fully appreciates the impact she’s having. The extra work Press puts in with Thompson, for example, has also made Anderson better.

“After training she’ll pull me aside and say ‘Hey, Ang, can you stay? I’m going to play a few balls through for Alyssa.’ That alone, dealing with such an elite finisher, is making me better obviously,” said Anderson, who was recently called up to the national team for the first time.

“She’s probably had to change a lot; just her mindset and mentality going through her injury and being older. I think she’s embraced her role and she seems like she’s in a really healthy spot.”

Listen to Press for a moment and the depth of her wisdom, experience and intelligence is obvious. But that doesn’t exactly make her rare in the Angel City locker room. Ali Riley, Press’ former Stanford teammate, and Scottish international Claire Emslie also have played on multiple continents and in multiple international championships and have become mentors to the team’s younger players.

“I enjoy that,” Emslie said. “I definitely find myself saying things to the younger players that I remember getting told and I think it’s important to pass on that information and have those relationships.

“I want to help them as much as I can because they’re going to go on and have even better and more successful careers. If I can help them along the way, it’s rewarding.”

That approach seems to be working. Angel City (4-4-2) is in playoff position through 10 games despite starting six players younger than 25.

“It’s important to have experienced players like Christen around. Especially when you’ve got so many players that are so young and exciting and dynamic,” interim manager Sam Laity said.

How long Press continues to do that in person is uncertain. The one-year contract extension she signed in January ends when the season does and she has a budding business empire to manage, one that includes a wildly entertaining podcast and a social entrepreneurship company founded with former USWNT teammates Megan Rapinoe, Meghan Klingenberg and Tobin Heath.

But if her playing days are indeed numbered, she’s enjoying those she has left. And that may be the most important lesson Professor Press passes on to her young students.

“There’s only one thing I haven’t done in soccer and that’s enjoy it,” she said. “All of my peers retired and I’m still here. I’m still given this gift of being able to appreciate it, play with gratitude, be a role model. And when I think about Angel City and my legacy, I think about ‘wow, what an opportunity to show the next generation that this can — and should be — fun and rewarding and it’s a gift that we get to chase greatness.

“The truth is the other things that I’m doing, from a career standpoint, are more lucrative than playing for Angel City this season. [But] there’s no better job in the world. We get so wrapped up in winning and greatness and titles and trophies that sometimes we don’t just get to be there. Like, I run around for my job. And I’m grateful that I have the opportunity to do so.”

[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?

[wrestlingmgc]

Impact Knockouts World Champion Jordynne Grace

[jaegeraether]

The Runaway - Chapter 1 (Alexia Putellas x original character slow-burn)

Jae's Masterlist

CHAPTER 1

DELANEY

In the world of female football, there had been only one name on everyone’s lips for the last three years. Delaney Baker. That was for many reasons. In her three-year professional career, the Australian had two A-League championship trophies and after she’d received a phone call from billionaire businesswoman Michele Kang herself, she’d moved to London to help Kang’s London City Lionesses get promoted into the WSL.

Beyond that, there was her character. Not only was she well-spoken, charismatic and humble, but the thirty-year-old was unstoppable on the field. Unstoppable to the point where a game without scoring a hat-trick was considered a bad game for her.

She had it all – a strong left foot, strong right foot, a playmaking ability beyond her experience, a high football IQ, precision and leadership. Unfortunately, regardless of her talent, there was a lot of scepticism about her popularity.

There were a few reasons for this. One – football hadn’t been her life, having only gone professional three years back. And two, was because she had only played in the A-League in Australia, and the second-tier league, The Championship, in the UK, which were both seen as much less competitive than other leagues such as the WSL, NWSL, and Liga F.

For Delaney, she didn’t mind about the noise. She’d always been raised with the ability to block out the negativity.

She drank her Powerade to soothe her thumping headache from the drunken night before, having celebrated a successful promotion for the Lionesses into the WSL. She wished she was rude enough to wear her sunglasses inside but alas, she was not.

Smiling to the press in front of her, she was given her next question.

“Aren’t you worried that you’ll be battered in the NWSL?”

Her smile didn’t falter. “I’ve heard the NWSL is a great competition, but I’m unsure where I’m going just yet. I move from goal to goal. My first was to bring more attention to the A-League in Australia which I feel proud of. My goal this year was to help the Lionesses get promoted into the WSL, which we succeeded at, as is evident by my current state...” That comment earnt several chuckles from the press. “From there on, I’ll assess where I can best help, regardless of its stigma.”

This Australian mentality she had was not so easily understood by football fanatics outside of her country. In Europe, they had an unwavering dedication and obsession with whichever team was theirs. Delaney had never been that way. She appreciated teams, of course, but primarily she appreciated individual players, and the growth of women’s football in general. The feeling of being helpful fulfilled her more than anything else.

“Is it a wise decision?” Another reporter asked. “I mean, you’re a great player, but you’re in the end of your career. Would it not be smarter to stay dominant in Australia and retire there?”

It was the typical opinion that most people had these days. All she could do, was repeat herself and hold strong her position. “I do acknowledge that I started playing professional football late in life, but I don’t see my age as any reason to impact my ambition or decisions. I’m in good form, I feel strong, and I like challenges. I like to think I’ve accomplished what I can here and would like to move on to whichever team would like the support.”

“There are rumours of Portland, Arsenal, Bayern, Chelsea or another season with London City. Which one will it be?”

She was a little surprised that he hadn’t mentioned the Barcelona coach saying publicly that she was a “social media trend” and “wasn’t needed” there. It was said condescendingly, but their team was already full of superstars, and she justified the comment as a language barrier in her mind. Regardless of how much she would have loved to train amongst the best in the world at Barca, she’d never go somewhere she wasn’t wanted.

Another fact about Delaney, was that she was never secretive unless necessary. “I won’t be playing for the Lionesses next year. I’ve already had a conversation with Michele about it, and we’re parting ways on a happy note. However, I haven’t made a decision on my next move.”

She tried not to laugh at the several shocked expressions at her nonchalance.

“You don’t have a contract?”

“There are several options that I’m considering.”

“What is there to consider?”

“For me personally, I’m in the midst of visiting clubs to get a feel of the atmosphere. I won’t move to a club that don’t treat their players well or have a mentality that I don’t agree with.”

Silence. And then… “Aren’t you worried?”

“Not at all. I’m happy to wait for the right door to open. For now, I’m focusing on the upcoming friendlies with my Aussie girls.”

The rest of the press conference was a bit louder, and more chaotic. She’d finished her entire electrolyte drink and had to ask for painkillers just to get through the strong opinions being thrown her way.

ALEXIA

For the first time in her career, Alexia would be playing against Delaney Baker, the girl that nobody would stop talking about. She’d done well for herself, having several high-value sponsorships and bringing attention to teams and leagues that needed it. Alexia respected that. There was also something else about her that was so… attractive.

At first, Alexia had tried not to Google her. It hadn’t worked. Not when Delaney kept appearing in clips and interviews and training photos, looking like a dream someone else had, and she’d only just remembered. After she’d slipped the first time, she found herself always stopping to watch her videos, interviews and highlights, without any idea as to why, as Alexia was never the type to do this, especially when it was in English.

Today though, she was interested to see what it would be like to share a field with her.

Spain and Australia never had friendlies, primarily due to the geographical distance, but with most of the Australians now playing in Europe, it had finally worked out.

Delaney wasn’t in the starting line-up, which was very common for her. She seemed to have a natural game analysis ability which meant that she was usually standing where she was right now, next to the coach. Alexia couldn’t help but watch as he asked her a question and she responded, gesturing to players. This was not a usual thing in their world. There was a large separation between the coaching staff and players in every team Alexia had played for. She would have assumed it was because Australia seemed to be struggling to find a permanent coach that they wanted, however she’d done this with all her other clubs too.

She tilted her head as she watched her, able to tell that she was explaining something to him. It was never a condescending way at all – she seemed to have the ability to be involved in anything without coming across as controlling, but rather curious and compassionate.

She’d said as much in her interview. She’d also said that after analysing the first part of the match, she would only come onto the field if she felt she “would be useful to the team or strategy they’re implementing.”

Watching her now, the Spaniard hoped that would be the case because while watching her, there began a tingling in her body that built the longer she-

-Alexia caught her breath before shaking the feeling off—she had never been one to stare, but for a brief moment, Delaney’s presence anchored her attention. Her own thoughts felt foreign, like she had misplaced them as the Australian’s quiet confidence reached her from across the field. She shouldn’t have been watching her this much. She knew that. But Delaney had a way of drawing her attention like it was borrowed — and she wasn’t ready to give it back.

The whistle blew, tearing her attention away from the Australian as play resumed. At half time, Alexia was confident with her team. Spain was up 3-0 and taking advantage of the injuries in their midfield. She’d expected Delaney to come on at half-time, but she didn’t. Instead, a few other players were subbed in for fresh legs. It slowed down Spain’s ability to score, but the Spanish coach, Montserrat, didn’t see this as a reason to sub any Spanish players just yet.

In the 64th minute, Delaney was began warming up. Alexia knew this, because of the sudden excitement of the European crowd, which was surprising. Nothing she was doing was specifically to get attention, but she did smile almost embarrassed. Alexia’s heart skipped a beat, and her bodily reaction immediately frustrated her. She wanted to find something about this woman she didn’t like. Anything.

In the 75th minute, she was subbed on to even louder cheers. Unsurprisingly, she was fouled on her first touch of the ball, with Olga Carmona barrelling into her, her elbow connecting with her eye and earning a yellow. Alexia cringed at the sight of Delaney’s split eyebrow. She was taken off-field for butterfly stitches and to clear the blood away while play resumed.

With a yellow as a warning, Olga needed to be careful. Unfortunately, it meant she was too careful, and the Australians managed to push up into the box, the Spaniards defending for their lives. Just because they were leading by three goals did not mean they wanted to give any away.

Caitlin Foord struck a hard ball towards the goal and Cata tipped it with her gloves. The ball hit the crossbar so fast that when it rebounded, it landed outside the box. Alexia turned to chase and was caught off guard by the figure of Delaney striking the ball at full stride.

Without even turning, she knew that no one had a chance of stopping it. There was the sound of the ball hitting the net, and then… the shouting started. The automatic reaction of the Spanish team against the referee who had allowed her to come back into play at such a vital moment.

Alexia knew it wasn’t illegal though. She was all patched up, and she had sprinted over from the touch line. Nevertheless, she’d already made an impact on the supposed “friendly.”

3-1 Spain.

Play started again from the centre, with the Spanish managing to push up close to the box again almost immediately. When they were within shooting distance, the mentality changed from their coach’s instructions of “stay on Delaney” to “let’s score.” Delaney forgotten, most players focus was on the ball which was ping-ponging towards the goal and back by either the goalkeeper or the Australian defenders throwing their body at it.

At this point in games, it would go one of two ways. Either the defenders would clear and there would be a quick rebound for the opposite team, or there would be a goal. Usually, it was the latter. This time though… Alanna Kennedy from Matildas managed to clear to Steph Catley, who was the current Matildas Captain. She spotted Delaney somehow forgotten in the middle and sent the ball her way.

Panic ensued. The Spaniards started backtracking, fast. There were none faster than Mapi Leon and Ona Batlle who both managed to get up either side of her, but at this point, Delaney was sprinting through the midfield, dodging left and right like she was playing FIFA.

Alexia heard Montserrat yelling from the boundary line. She had been yelling since they’d shifted their focus away from her.

Delaney ran straight into the box, flicking the ball up and over Ona as she slid through, dodging Mapi on the left, she slid the ball home through Cata’s legs to a crowd who were half outraged and half in awe.

3-2 Spain.

She’d been on the field less than ten minutes, with half of that time being patched up. Alexia could feel her frustration building and yelled towards her players to keep to the strategy.

She made eye contact with Delaney for the first time in her life and if she hadn’t seen it, she wouldn’t have known she’d just scored an outrageous solo goal. The Australian gave an empathetic look and returned to her position.

Who was this girl? And why did she seem to not care? It’s not like she wasn't passionate, she absolutely was. But to barely react beyond a thank you and high five to her team was not something she’d ever seen.

For some reason Alexia’s inability to understand evolved into frustration.

When they started again from the middle, she took it upon herself to control the ball. This meant fighting Delaney. Both were immediately at the ball, fighting for possession and getting up close and personal with each other. It’s the closest she’d ever been to her, and the smell of perfume… was something she certainly shouldn’t be focussing on.

The rest of the players seemed to be hanging back to see what would happen as the two grabbed onto one another, stealing the ball and losing it continuously as they danced around the midfield – both letting it play out between them rather than pass to a teammate. Alexia had control of the ball, using her body to block Delaney who, in a sneaky move, slipped under her arm, using Alexia’s unbalanced position to kick the ball free and get a head start towards it. She tried to grab her, but Delaney was already gone, passing the ball back to a midfielder who felt that pushing forward was the right move.

Alexia caught Delaney, making it her intention to not let her get any free movement, which must have surprised her because she spun, eyes widening at the sight and tripped backwards as Alexia barrelled into her. They fell, Alexia landing on top of her body hard, both just as surprised as the other. Their eyes met, which was just enough to make Alexia pause as she noted her blue eyes, the sweat dappled onto her forehead, the pinkness in her cheeks and her slightly parted mouth as she regained her breath.

Their bodies were tangled on the grass, and for a moment, Alexia felt the weight of Delaney's breath against her lips, too close, too intimate. She could hear the thudding of her own heart, and yet she couldn’t move, couldn’t break the gaze between them that felt like an eternity. In that split second, she had a feeling—something deep, something inexplicable. She was so beautiful, Alexia found herself frozen on the spot.

Delaney broke their moment first, her eyes flicking away and filling with worry. In the second that Alexia tried to get up, she felt arms moving around her, their bodies entangling further as Delaney rolled herself on top and put her arms around Alexia’s head. She felt her cheek touch the Australians neck, her own hands grasping onto her shirt, ready to push her off when suddenly a pack of players hit them. The sound of body on body was brutal as Alexia realised that Delaney was taking the brunt of it for her.

She was protecting her.

Alexia felt a cleat on her thigh, ripping it open, and the sound of feet around them. Delaney was hit several times, knocking her body around and her head into Alexia’s. Her heart sunk as she heard her whimper in pain.

The whistle was blown and the Australian whispered “Sorry” as she rolled off her with a groan.

“Is everyone okay?!” The referee asked. Players were all around them, some with injuries and some there to help. Alexia saw the gash on her leg, the blood seeping out and turned to Delaney who was clutching her head and already being attended to by the medics. They tenderly pulled up her shirt, giving Alexia a good view of the damage done to her back. She shivered.

“Are you okay?” The medics are her in Spanish.

“Yes, just my leg.”

“You’re lucky it was only that!”

She looked at Delaney’s back again, which seemed to be bruising already. “Yes, I am.”

After they’d fallen, a few midfielders had stumbled through in a group, trampling on one another. The referee stopped play for at least six of them to be patched up. One of the younger Spanish players, Athenea del Castillo had to leave the game entirely with a twisted ankle.

Alexia couldn’t stop looking at the back of Delaney. The Spaniard had been the stupid one, barging into her and knocking her over, and yet, she’d protected her. Alexia felt a strange pressure in her chest when the medics swarmed over Delaney. The instinct to help tugged at her, even though she knew it wasn’t her place. She hadn’t realized how much she cared until the sight of Delaney’s blood made her breath catch in her throat.

She shook her head, hoping it would rid herself of the conflicting emotions bubbling up, and turned her attention back to the medics bandaging her thigh.

There was still a game to finish.

She made sure her team was okay before play of this overly aggressive “friendly” resumed. Unsurprisingly, the heat hadn’t died down. There was only ten minutes left, after all.

Spanish players kept their focus on Delaney, which made Alexia feel uneasy and conflicted. The poor girl was already battered to a ridiculous point.

She stayed close to her as possible in an attempt to protect her. Her shirt in her hand whenever they were close, their bodies against each other. It reassured her for some reason.

At the end of the game, though, Alexia had tired. She’d played from the very first minute, and Delaney was on much fresher legs.

She managed to get away from her as the Australian defence pushed up. Somehow, she was on the far right of the field, running into the box and yelling to Steph, pointing to where she wanted it. Steph kicked the ball from the centre line, long and high towards the box. Delaney flew, her body leaping so high into the air, that her hip was at Cata’s head. Cata, in frustration, made a dumb decision. Eyes off the ball, she shoved her shoulder into Delaney’s waist and dumped her onto the ground head first. The ball flew straight over them, the crowd even against Cata’s decision.

The referee blew the whistle and ran over, hand reaching into her pocket. Cata had her hands out, arguing against it. But Alexia wasn’t looking at her. She was looking at the battered Australian on the ground, who was rolling in pain. She’d landed on her head and shoulder which she was clutching. Delaney was never one to stay on the ground.

Alexia automatically ran over to defend her player. It was her job as Captain, after all.

“What were you thinking?! Are you stupid?!” Caitlin yelled as she got in Cata’s face. Steph pulled her back and began talking to the referee.

“That has to be a red card. It has to! Look at her!” Steph accused.

Alexia’s gaze moved to where she was pointing. Delaney, seemingly stubborn, was pushing herself back to her feet.

“No red,” Alexia defended without any confidence in English. “It was player… playing…”

Alexia was always highly regarded by referees and players. She saw respect in their eyes when they looked at her. But she could always tell when a referee had made a decision.

Alexia went to open her mouth again and a hand touched her arm softly.

“It’s okay.” Delaney reassured… her? She turned to the referee. “No red… it’s okay. It was my fault.”

The response was shock. “What?”

“It was just a playing incident. We both went for the ball. Just let us play on. This is what the sport is about after all. We’re here for the fans.”

Cata and Alexia went silent with shock.

The referee made an exasperated sound as she looked from Alexia to Delaney who was still clutching her shoulder. “Well, I must admit, this is a first. A straight red or a yellow with a penalty. Make a decision between the two of you.”

Steph Catley stepped forward and Delaney shook her head to stop her. She looked straight at Alexia.

“Whatever la Reina wants. Red or yellow?”

Alexia’s decision? Her jaw flexed as she looked at her kind expression, clearly trying to hide her pain. The split on her eyebrow had opened again, blood trickling down her face. The medics had just then arrived and began cleaning it.

“Are you okay to continue?” They asked her.

“Yes,” she murmured without hesitation, and without taking her eyes from Alexia’s.

Alexia looked at Cata with a disappointed expression. Cata looked guiltily back. She deserved a red. But she was the Captain and needed to defend her players.

“Yellow…. with penalty.”

The referee looked like she didn’t agree but lifted the yellow card and made the penalty gesture. The crowd sounded stunned. Alexia looked back at Delaney who gave her a knowing smile, as if she’d just worked something out about her.

Alexia knew Delaney shouldn’t have still be on the field with that shoulder, but she didn’t tell the referee. Delaney wanted them to play? They’d play.

She was given the ball to take the penalty and as everyone was getting into position outside of the box, she turned it over in her hand. And then she did another unthinkable thing.

“Kyra..” She called.

Kyra ran over, confused. There were only a few minutes left in the game, and she wanted one of their youngest players to take the penalty?

Delaney handed her the ball and walked with her up to the mark, murmuring in her ear as they went, Kyra nodding as she listened to Delaney instructing her on how to take the penalty. There was no panic in her – the calm she exuded was the kind of leadership Alexia always felt she had and for a moment, that connection flared again. Why did she care so much?

Kyra looked nervous, but Delaney looked confident. Proud. As if there was nothing that would result in anything but Kyra scoring.

Kyra nodded and Delaney walked back over the line, analysing Kyra rather than preparing to run in. That was real leadership.

Alexia watched as Kyra stared at the spot to the right of Cata, with a nervous expression. She caught herself looking. Stopped. Got scared. Looked back at the right. Cata smiled. She knew exactly where the youngster was putting it. She teased and intimidated her by jumping up and down on the spot.

Kyra’s eyes landed back on that spot. She lined up. The whistle blew. She took her penalty kick. Cata lunged.

And Kyra kicked it the opposite direction to where she’d been staring.

The ball hit the back of the net, and she turned, grinning with pride and cheekiness. She pointed to Delaney to acknowledge her as the Australian girls swarmed.

3-3. Tie.

The game ended like that. No one had any more chances within the next few minutes. The Spaniards were tired, but still managing to hold off the Australians.

The final whistle blew, and everybody took a breath. Alexia shook everyone’s hands, realising too slowly that Delaney wasn’t there. She looked around and saw the medics walking with her towards the changing rooms, clutching her shoulder.

Her stomach sunk. She’d hoped she would have had the chance to talk to her. Swap jerseys. Anything, just to get to know her better.

Delaney looked over her shoulder as if she knew she was watching and smiled. Right then, Alexia knew her world had changed.

((Let me know if you like this as I already have the next 5 chapters written. :) )

[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!

[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,"

[sir3nsfi1m]

BACK TO FRIENDS

BREAKING: ALESSA RIVIARA SIGNED TO UCONN WOMENS BASKETBALL. WELCOME TO STORRS, ALESSA!

“Alessa Riviara in the best way, is known as ‘The Flash’. Quick on her feet. An absolute bullet on the court. The 5’10 point guard based in Los Angeles, California, takes the court in an unapologetically poetic way. A fierce leader with an eye for her teammates, Riviara is an easy choice for any coach to recruit to their team to further their development. Though Riviara gained the attention of many Ivy League recruiters, Geno Auriemma seemed to have impacted her the most as UConn has confirmed that Alessa is signed to play the 24-25 season at the University of Connecticut in Storrs, Connecticut.”

“Attending Sierra Canyon High School, Riviara is the nation’s top recruit for the class of 2024, renowned for her unparalleled speed and court vision. Her statistics show nothing short of extraordinary. 27.4 points per game, 9.2 assists, 5.3 steals, 52% field goal percentage, a whopping 95% free throw accuracy, Riviara stuns the scoreboard. Riviara’s agility and pacing on the court can be comparable to UConn legends like Moriah Jefferson.”

“As a 3x State Champion, McDonald’s All-American MVP, USA Basketball U18 Gold Medalist, Riviara is an estimated legend on the court, with many recruiters saving her a spot on their roster. However, her commitment to UConn has fans and analysts buzzing, with expectations that she will continue the program’s storied legacy amongst her teammates. Many believe Alessa Riviara is just what could help lead the Huskies to their next national championship.”

“Stay tuned as Alessa Riviara, or the name she has recently endowed, ‘Flash’, shocks the nation as she embarks on her collegiate journey.”

ALESSA RIVIARA as THE FLASH #8

5’10 / Point Guard / #1 2024 Overall (ESPNW)

“ The One Who Got Away ”

JUJU WATKINS as MAD DOG #12

6’2 / Shooting Guard / #1 2023 Overall (ESPNW)

“ The One Who Let Her Go ”

i. A WHOLE LOT COLDER / “THE ANTICIPATED ARRIVAL OF THE NATION’S TOP RECRUIT SPARKS FIRE THROUGHOUT CONNECTICUT, WE’RE LOOKING OUT FOR YOU, ALESSA!”

Anything you can do, I can do better.