#Venus sleeping at last you are undefeated
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“I was a billion little pieces
‘til you pulled me into focus.”
#dragon age#lucanis dellamorte#datv spoilers#dragon age: the veilguard#rookanis#datv rook#dragon age fanart#Venus sleeping at last you are undefeated#all my ships are captured by those lyrics lmao#Marisol de Riva#I’m returning to my true form of only drawing 1 specific couple over and over#rook x lucanis#rook x lucanis dellamorte
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boxer!noah - ASK
I typed too much to make this an ASK so I just screen shot the ask.
GIRL GIRL GIRL I’ve been preparing for this since you sent it to me! Let me remind everyone that AU = Alternate Universe, as in Noah wouldn’t be an actor in this other ‘universe’ and he’s a boxer. So I will avoid acting stuff and pretend he’s a boxer. I will also give the girl a name because I’m getting really tired of typing you.
Note after I’m done writing: This isn’t really like cocky fighter turning on his girlfriend, I went kind of a whole different way.
ATTN/WARNINGS: There’s like a mention or lead into some smut but nothing more than that.
ANYWAYS! Here we go.
“Quinn, how are you feeling about tonight’s fight?”
“Quinn, do you relate his career to your families?
“Quinn, do you enjoy watching the fights?”
“Quinn, do you take any of the threats seriously that opponents have made against you?
Lights flashed. People followed her. She didn’t flinch.
The security guard at the door quickly moved out of the way for her and her personal guard to walk through.
She led the way down the halls only smiling at one person who spoke to her. This arena felt like a second home to her, since she was little. Turning down an empty hall she saw pictures of her father, Professional Boxer Kevin Tharone, winning multiple fights.
But that’s not who she was here to see.
Boxer Noah Centineo. Undefeated for two years. Trained since he was fifteen by Kevin Tharone and his team. Currently set to fight tonight in front of 20,000 people, live on television.
Quinn waited at a door with her guard until it opened. A lady put a pass around her neck and handed on to her security. Holly, she was Noah’s agent, currently tracking the betting odds on him winning.
She made her way back through the venue, past crowds yelling her name, more cameras in her face, “I just put $10,000 on Centineo!” A guy yelled, practically spilling his beer on the floor. “I put $15,000 on him getting a KO!”
A quiet hall led to an open area, she saw Noah pacing around a bag, his usual pre-fight rituals.
“Clear the room.” A deep voice said as the ten or so people scattered down the halls and behind doors.
Quinn pulled her glasses off and put them in her hoodie pocket, “Hey babe.”
He rolled his neck around and shook his arms out before stretching his fingers out and grabbing her hand. “Q”, he smiled, a rare sight on fight night but Quinn was his one weakness.
. . . .
At fifteen when he was invited to train with Kevin Tharone and his team at their private gym he never expected to see a tiny blonde sparring against Kevin as he walked inside.
The first words ever spoken to him by Kevin? “That’s my daughter and you’ll be leaving her alone.”
He lived at that gym for years; practicing, conditioning, fighting, sometimes even sleeping. That’s when at twenty, he was in for early conditioning and saw Quinn asleep in the office.
Noah didn’t dare wake her. The few words they had spoken were in passing and he still received a dirty work out from Kevin afterwards.
Half way into his normal warm up he heard the office door open and Quinn walked out, “Sorry, I must have crashed here when I was only planning to sober up.” Noah looked at her odd, she was only eighteen, just in college. “Frat parties.” She shrugged, “Want any breakfast? I’m going across the street to get coffee and something greasy.”
That was it.
That was the day she begged her dad to let them speak.
After a week of that she begged her dad for permission for one date.
It continued happening, asking for an eighth date, asking if he could go to the next fight with her, all the asking until her dad finally spoke to him and they were able to say they were dating.
Quinn was at his first professional fight and every single fight since then. The highs of parties after wins and the lows of split open lips and eyebrows, bruised ribs and black eyes.
. . . .
“I’ve gotta shower, let’s go.” He kept hold of her hand and led her down the hall. The hall emptied as they entered it, her security left them alone. As he was only hired to be with her when Noah or her father wasn’t.
Quinn checked his fight clothes, all plain black, nothing flashy. His pre-fight drinks were made and being chilled, her request of fresh fruit and Sprite were on a separate table.
Noah found Quinn sitting on the couch, playing with her necklace and watching a live-feed of the outside and inside of the venue.
“Here” he handed over his two rings off the table in front of them and by habit she slipped them on her necklace and let them fall between her chest until he needed them back after the fight.
An hour later Holly knocked on the door before peeking her head in, “Press starts in forty minutes.” Quinn smiled to her in acknowledgement as Noah stayed asleep on her chest.
Her fingers trailed up and down his arm as he took steady breaths in his sleep, still in just a towel from the shower. “No, babe. Time for press.” She whispered, tapping on his chest, “You’ve gotta get up and go kick some ass.”
Without opening his eyes he smiled and wrapped his arms around her. “Five more minutes.”
The crowd’s cheering echoed down the halls, the bass from the music playing seemed to shake the building and the halls were filled with three times the amount of people than earlier.
His trainers surrounded him, prepping his body for the fight. Taping his hands, last minute hair cut, steaming his robe...
Quinn grabbed his taped hands and kissed his palms, leaving a pink lip mark. Her dad finally entered the room, giving Noah a stern nod and nothing else. He hugged Quinn and asked her about her day before leaving them to their normal pre-fight routine.
Noah was getting his gloves tied on as she went back to him, “This is number twenty-six.” She informed him, resting her hands on his exposed hips.
“Do I get a present or something?” He joked, shoving his hand into a glove. “Or do you get a present?”
“How about both?” She suggested, her finger gliding along his shorts towards his belly button, “But I don’t reward losers.”
Noah laughed as he shook his hands around, seeing if his gloves felt right. She loved the few minutes before he walked out because he had no use of his hands or fingers.
Quinn held a black, silk robe up and he slid his arms in. CENTINEO embroidered on the back in white. She pulled the hood up and situated it on top of his head while he jumped in place with his trainer yelling in his ear.
She stepped back and let them take over getting him psyched up for the fight.
Random roars from the crowd, music blasting through the entire place, men yelling about beer they had for sale and one ring lit up in the middle of the place.
Quinn waited at the door, checking her phone, sliding her glasses on and touching up her lipstick. The doors opened and she waited for Noah; his curls falling in his eyes and his scruffy face made him look like a dream.
She walked out with his entire team of people, right next to him where he wanted her to be.
This is where she seemed to black out. She never remembers watching fights or what happens; she watches them on TV the day after. Since she was little she attended many fights but never remembered being there. They had told her it was adrenaline and a coping mechanism to watching someone she loved being beaten in front her.
The fight ended earlier than expected, not even seven rounds were needed until the referee raised Noah’s arm in the air and announced he had won by “knock out” making him a twenty-six and zero champion.
A belt was wrapped around his waist and his boxing gloves were pulled off his hands. His team hugged him, media tried to get to him and Quinn’s security lifted her over the side of the ring to get to him.
A worker of his put his arm out to stop a photographer from getting to Noah and to allow Quinn to jump and hug him. He sat her down, grabbed her cheeks and kissed her for a few seconds before hugging her into his chest.
“Let’s go” He said to his team leader, who made a way for them to leave back to his room.
Quinn gripped onto his arm that he held the belt up with. She didn’t flinch at the sweat dripping down his arm or the blood that was on his knuckles. He high-fived fans and waved at the camera, he pointed out a sign with his name on it and showed off the belt to another camera.
“Hey” Quinn tugged his arm, pointing to a little boy pushed up to the gate with a boxing glove in his hand and a marker in the other. His face lit up when Noah looked at him and he screamed, “Can you sign my glove?”
Quinn let go of his arm and let him grab the glove, ask the boy for his name and quickly sign it with a 26-0 at the end. “Thanks, Centineo!” The little boy squealed, jumping up and down with the glove.
He grabbed for Quinn to hold onto his arm again and she grabbed hold of it with both hands and kissed his sweaty shoulder.
“Press conference in an hour.” Holly said, unlocking the door to his room. “Dolce and Gabbana suit is hanging in the closet, freshly steamed. After party arrival is in three hours, Quinn, your dress is also in the closet as well as two from Balmain they sent as a gift.”
As soon as the door closed she was off to the closet to check the dresses. “Ho-ly shit.” She looked at the dresses, “These are insane.”
“The all black one with your tall black Louboutin boots.” Noah said, tearing tape off his hands and dabbing a washcloth against the cuts on his face.
“I don’t have Louboutin boots, I brought my black Steve Madden booties or YSL heels.” She held one of each up, holding them near the dresses.
“Check on the shelf above the dresses.” He grinned, not even turning back.
Quinn reached on her tip toes and pulled down a brown box with a red bow on it. “Nooooahhhh” She whined, “Are you kidding me?”
He made his way over to her, watching her open the box to a brand new pair of boots: leather, a red bottom and a silver zipper up the back.
“You’ll look so sexy in those.” He whispered behind her, sending chills up her spine.
“I can’t believe you--
“I love you.”
“You didn’t have to--
“No returns.”
Quinn sat the box down, turned around and hugged him. His sweaty body and familiar after-fight smell was some how one of her favorite things. She checked the cut on his eyebrow and the bruise already forming on his ribs, “You should have noticed his left hook after two right hooks and a dodge.” She pushed on his bruise and made him wince but laugh.
He backed away from her, “You be ready for me when I get out of the shower...” He turned back around and paused once he entered the door, peeking his head back out, “You better have those boots on.”
Twenty minutes later he came out of the bathroom in nothing but his sweatpants, hair still dripping, more bruises forming.
Quinn was leaned against the counter, fixing her makeup. His shirt from this morning just covered her bottom and the Louboutin boots were zipped up the back of her tan legs.
“Whoa, whoa, whoaaa.” He groaned, meeting eyes with her in the mirror. “First you kill me in my shirt, then you kill me in the boots.” He took a step back to look her up and down again. “I can’t wait for our after-after party.” He sighed in her ear, pushing his front to her back, trapping her against the counter.
“We have thirty minutes.”
“I only need ten.” “You still need to change--
“I only...” She could feel his breath on her neck, she clenched onto the blush brush in her hand, “need”, his lips attached to the side of her neck, “ten minutes.”
Quinn shivered the more he kissed her neck, grabbing his damp curls and squeezing as his hands roamed her body. “Babe, we can’t. You try this every fight.”
“You always stop me every fight.” He spoke against her shoulder, his hands sneaking beneath the shirt. “Just let me this one time.”
She spun around quickly and put her hand on his chest, “You cannot, whatsoever, mess up my hair or makeup.”
“I don’t need to be near your hair or makeup.” He grinned, pushing her up on the counter and against the mirror.
“Noah Gregory Centineo there is no time for any of THIS--
She squeaked, stopped talking and grabbed a hand full of his hair once he started doing what he wanted to do.
Right on time as Holly knocked on the door Quinn was adjusting a few curls a top Noah’s head. His burgundy suit complimented her completely black outfit, Holly snapped a quick picture at Quinn’s request before leading them to the car.
“It’s cheat day, Taco Bell.” Quinn begged, “A chicken quesadilla, nachos, cinnamon twists, a Baja Blast freeeeeeeze.”
Noah opened the car door for her as they left the after party. “Do they still have the thing I like?”
“’Quesarito!” She clapped, immediately unzipping the boots as she sat in the back of the SUV.
“Can we swing by Taco Bell before we go to the hotel?”
“Yes we can Mr. Centineo.” The driver nodded before pulling away.
As they entered the hotel Quinn placed her shoes on a counter and grabbed the first shirt she could find. It took a few tries but she wiggled out of the dress and swapped it for the t-shirt before digging in her bag for a ponytail holder and tossing her hair on top of her head in a bun.
“All I do is take a piss and you’re already in pajamas?” Noah joked, leaving his pants undone as he exited the bathroom.
Quinn couldn’t answer as she ate a bite of quesadilla.
He opened the door of the mini fridge, “What are you drinking?”
“I found a beer.” She grinned, taking a sip. “In my bag.”
He shook his head at her drunk antics, knowing his probably weren’t much better. “Why do you have beer in here?” He dug in her suitcase and found the rest of a six pack at the bottom. “Don’t answer, I don’t even care.”
Noah took a long drink before falling on the bed next to her, digging in one of the three bags for something that looked good. “Gimme a bite of quesadilla.”
Quinn held it to his face and let him take a bite before grabbing it back for herself.
“Feed me.”
“No thanks.” She mumbled, chewing on a cinnamon twist. “I am a very hungry person right now.”
“I’m a very tired person right now.” He bit at the cinnamon twist in her hand and managed to get half of it. “Pleeeaseee feed me, you owe me.” He laid his head on her thigh and turned to bite it.
“I can feed you and I don’t owe you for earlier? Solid. I’m ready for bed.”
“I have thought about all the ways I could fuck you tonight, every time I saw you in those boots and that dress, the pictures online of us on the arrival carpet, the little grin you do when you look up at me...” He groaned, “But I’m really, really exhausted.”
“I got to see you box tonight and win which is honestly the biggest turn-on ever.”
“Oh is it?” He asked, lifting his head up. “You said watching me work out was the biggest---
“Any time you’re sweaty, shirtless, in boxing gloves, or in gray sweat pants.” She moaned to herself, “You working out in gray sweatpants messes me up.”
He laughed at her reactions to what she said, “You sweating in gray sweatpants on the day of a fight? The best.”
“Um, did you know.” She sat the bag of food to the side and he rolled onto her lap, “You made, just you, after team earnings, you, Noah, made eight point six million dollars.”
“I can’t wait to fuck you in your new, all white, Tesla Model X.”
“You’re getting a Tesla?”
“You’re getting a Tesla.”
“I’m getting a Tesla? I have a Jeep.”
“I ordered you a Tesla.” He told her, “Custom purple interior. All white outsides.”
“You ordered me a Tesla?”
“Quinn, when you get home tomorrow there’s a Tesla already waiting for you, in your garage.”
“Noah, seriously--
“You deserve it.” He stopped her from saying anything else. “It’s my money, I can do what I want with it.”
“But you don’t have to--
“Shhhhh..” He pushed his finger against her lips, “You must not want these either?” He pulled two small boxes from his pocket.
“I can’t, Noah. You have to stop.” He put the boxes in her hands, “You always tell me to do stuff that makes me happy and it makes me happy to give you gifts.”
In one box was a necklace, a silver choker, the letters Q-U-I-N-N on one level and N-O-A-H on the next. “You had it designed on some Elsty or Testy site but I had my jeweler make one.”
“Etsy.” She laughed, immediately pulling it around her neck and connecting it. “Thank you, babe.” “One more.” He sat the next box in her hand, grinning like a little kid.
She untied the ribbon and sat it to the side, opening the box to reveal a key. “My Tesla key? Teslas don’t have keys.” She held it up, a normal silver key on a small key ring.
“What if I say, I already put the gate access sticker in your Tesla?”
“A key to your house? I know the code for the door.”
“Think of it as more of a symbol.” He suggested. “Like as in me asking you to finally move in?”
“You’re joking.” “Not at all. My house is big and I hate being there alone. I made my friends move out and had a designer come decorate. There’s a brand new closet just for you, a brand new vanity, an updated wine cellar and I added a hot tub on the patio that you suggested the day I moved in.... so if you don’t move in, I just have that all to myself.”
“Of course I’ll move in.” She almost cried, wrapping her hands around his neck and falling onto the bed with him.
“Good. Your Tesla is at my house.” He kissed her, “Well I guess I should say, our house.”
Quinn shook around a little in excitement, “Our house.”
Noah flipped on top of her and kissed her hard, “I don’t think you understand how much I love you”, he kissed her again, “and appreciate you”, he kissed her a little longer, “and every day I think about being with you for the rest of my life.”
Quinn didn’t even speak. She grabbed his neck and pulled him back down to kiss her and soon they fell into a lazy kiss that seemed to last forever, until she made him stop and fall asleep on the premises that they would ‘finish tomorrow’.
“I love you, No-ie.”
“I love you too, Quinny.”
#me#mine#edit#fanfic#writing#imagine#blurb#noah centineo#noah centineo imagine#boxer!noah#boxer#boxing#to all the boys i've loved before#tatbilb#sierra burgess is a loser#centineo
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The Guy who got the A in me...
FLASHBACK November 2, 2012
YFC Batch 28 - Undefeated
It was YFC Camp— a three-day camp that all will be about is knowing our Lord Jesus Christ— when I saw him, Kuya A. But at first, of course, I didn’t mind cos what I wanted the most and the reason why I join YFC is to know more about Him, my savior. And kuya A, he’s like the contrary of everything I dreamt of. Naaah, don’t get me wrong, he got the looks, yes and the brains too, I guess but he’s not really that guy okay. He’s not that. But I don’t know why there’s a sudden movement in me that unknowingly caught my attention.
We arrived at the venue around 6 pm, that’s I guess the call time. We just have some random introducing of ourselves with our team leader, Kuya B and we ate dinner afterward. Then the moment of truth, the first talk started. The feels were legit and authentic. After the mind-blowing first talk, those people behind the camp played a song, entitled, Kung Ako Nalang Sana, without lights and with our eyes closed. It was mesmerizing. Who would have thought that Kung ako nalang sana can also be about Jesus? I was moved by my emotions. I cried. I didn’t expect that it will be sucha heartbreaking song. And that song became one of my favorites; I love the voice behind it. It captured me— almost all of me.
The morning of the following day, November 3, 2012. We were gathered in a room with no idea of what will happen. While waiting, this guy they call A— yes the guy I was talking about— I call him kuya A. Together with kuya J, both of them rushed to the blackboard to face us and I can say that he’s a little bit shy based on his looks. They taught us worship songs, they taught us how to praise and even our batch dance craze. He’s cute when he sings and he can also play the guitar. He got sarcasm and made us all fell into his witty jokes. Did I mention that I just stared at him for like a minute that time? Yes, I did. Di lang ata minuto yon eh. Then there, I guess it all started.
By afternoon, I often see him around— or more likely I’m really always looking for him. You know that feeling when you know you’re starting to like a person, you feel like you always want them to see. And that feeling is like as if you’re on cloud nine. Haaaay only heaven knows. Baduuy uy.
The evening agenda was to choose a team— dance, sing or a comedy show. Through my interrogating skillz level 101 (hahahaha) and my guts, I was able to ask a lot of and (random) people of what team kuya A will be part of. By that, I knew kuya A will be the one who will mentor the singing team so I guess you now know what team I chose? And tbh right now while writing this one, I still feel the giddiness, the kilig, the never ending smiles and the same feeling I felt and I can’t help but think... How was he able to change my perception of my own dream guy? Paano ko naconvince yung mga kaibigan ko na singing yung piliin without the hint that I might like him? Why did I fell to someone who is totally different to me? Hmmmmm.... idk. It’s indescribable you know, di ko din alam kung ano nakain ko non at sobrang lakas ng loob ko. Shet naiiyak ako while writing this.
Expectedly he taught us possible songs to sing for the E-Night where all of us must be participating. And you guys he never failed to make me smile all throughout that practice. We sing we dance, and (we laugh and that’s mandatory). I remember while rehearsing, there’s a sudden blackout and we all screamed out loud and turn into bursts afterward because of our own unexplainable expressions LOL. He called our team “Girls Direction” cos we’re going to sing that time some One Direction’s songs. After the given time for rehearsal, we ended up having just one song and we’re still not prepared for the performance. But he assured us that we’ll just be fine. And okay, I’m gonna say it… I’m gonna admit it. I’m sooooo kilig while he’s teaching us and when he looks at me. Okay. OMG!
After the entertainment night was our first ever praise fest where we sing worship songs to uplift and praise Christ. And with kuya A as our worship leader— I didn’t expect it to be him. That moment when he’s telling stories and the way he closes his eyes while singing. His sincerity, passion, and dedication in serving God are just amazingly superb about him— and I love it. And by that I know, yes this guy… is that guy... right at that moment... I knew it was something else. For the first time in forever, I felt the feeling of how it is to like a significant other. That affection that sees no perfection, no faults. Yet I’m also feeling guilty that time because, I’m supposed to be there because of my Savior but, I just found myself knowing Him and knowing that He also wants to teach me of loving with no limits, with no hesitations, to see no hindrance, to just love and appreciate.
Day 3, November 4, 2012. Our last day. We are all terribly exhausted: lack of sleep and the random emotions we had through talks. And the last talk started in the morning and ended at noon. There’s a part where all the old YFC’s were going to welcome us and will show us how to do the YFC handshake. I got so excited because I knew that kuya A will be holding my hands. Ya ya ya ya. I tried to focus on the speaker but hey excitement is so real. But I did focus on the talk and I absolutely didn’t expect the last part— the coffee-changing-colors thingy. Gawd those guys behind the camp were just so amazing and I’ve also realized how amazing God really is despite all our shortcomings.
And my most anticipated part. After the talk, the old YFCs started to line up in one corner of the room. Few minutes, I saw him running and making his way to the line wearing his heavenly smile. Oh geez, kuya A you're an angel in disguise. My eyes can’t see no one but him and I’m looking straight into his eyes. Gawhd I wonder, how many girls had fallen for it. And these people started giving their hands for the handshake. And I can still remember how they were moving so fast like how my heart was and my nerves were. Waaaaaahhh bat ako kinikilig ng gantong oras.
Okay… Seven… Six… Five… Four… Three… Two…
“Hi, Kuya A” I said while giving him my hand. “Hi, Ace!” and we shook our hands. “Welcome to YFC!” he said again, smiling...
Gawhd!
After the camp, I finally told my friends that I have a thing for kuya A and they actually agreed that he is really cute. Days after the camp was lighter than ever. No heavy feelings on the inside and no more worries— at all. Then, I got his number. I texted him with some kind of thank you messages for taking care of us and things like that. He is really approachable you guys and really naughty— yep no doubt about that. We almost texted a whole day. A whole day of non-sense and kilig overload ya know what I mean... yep shhhh. I can still remember those exchanging of cheesy lines and punch lines like what? Did I actually text that to him? eewww hehehe joke hahaha. A big OMG.
The following camp, we were both part of the mission team of Batch 29. It is the last day when I was assigned to wash the dishes. While washing, he went to me and asked if I already ate but I don’t exactly remember what I said to him. Then he left and came back with food and I remember laughing at him. Gawd why did I laugh? I said that I’ll eat later but he insisted and he really scooped the food for me. Yay, that’s one of the most unforgettable experience I had with him.
I didn’t even know that the guy behind the “Kung Ako Nalang Sana” voice is him. Gahwd... Divine! And what I really admired about him the most is that he is serving our Man up there for like 13 or 15 years now? and still counting. Gawhd kuya A, you’re unbelievable.
But as days passed by, I knew everything should stop.
Above all, thank you kuya A for sharing your fun stories with me. With us all your bunso. Thank you for giving us countless reasons to live for Him, to praise Him, to uplift Him. Thank you for everything. I’ve learned so much from you and I became closer to God. Thank you for those never dull moments. The seawall tambays after mass. For all the inspiring words during the worships. For everything that you’ve done unintentionally. I will never ever forget that short video message you made for my 16th birthday, despite your busy schedule. Thank you for that sweet message. Thank you for singing Iris to me. That will always remind me of you every now and then. Sad thing is, I already lost that video. But those words that you told me… will forever be stored in my heart. And that song… that song will always be my song for you as well. Even though I lost that video, I will never ever lose this another video message you gave me with you singing Kung Akin ang Mundo for my 20th birthday. Kuya A… I’m speechless. I can’t thank you enough for the memories, for the time, the effort and all. You will always have a soft part in me. I will always love you. I got you. I’ll never ever forget you, I promise. I miss you so bad. I don’t want you to read this but if you do, please don’t let me know or yes please let me know.
I just wish that you find the right person for you, the one you have been dreaming of too. The one who will make you happy just like what you did to me. You deserve more than that. I’m always hoping for your good health. Please do take care of yourself— that will mean a lot to me.
And yes, kuya A***, you got me.
Photo from: xxx
PS: it still hurts.
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you’ve got a warm heart, you’ve got a beautiful brain, but it’s d i s i n t e g r a t i n g ;
As she looked at herself in her bedroom mirror, Mollie ran her fingers down the sides of her leotard. She could feel the seams loosening and the fabric becoming thinner, but that didn’t bother her too much. Like most eighth graders, she’d grown quite a bit in the last year. And because of dance, she’d put on quite a bit of muscle too, so the leotard that once fit snugly was beginning to stretch out. But despite the fact that she was clearly outgrowing it, Mollie wasn’t ready to get rid of it quite yet. After all, it was her lucky leotard. The one she’d purchased at last year’s national competition where she came in first place, and the one she’d been wearing as often as possible over the past twelve months that she was convinced was the reason she’d been undefeated all season. It didn’t look like anything too special. It had a small collar at the top, almost like a short turtleneck, and it was sleeveless. The holes for her legs were cut a little higher than the other ones she owned. But still, for the most part, it was just a leotard. But it was a leotard that meant everything to the young blonde.
Mollie turned her head to her right to see her solo costume hanging on her closet door. She knew that the responsible choice would be to put it on before heading to the competition. She’d be performing her solo before she did her duet or the group dance, and because it was nationals, she wouldn’t have a ton of time to rehearse and get ready before she had to go out on stage. It was more fast-paced than most of the regular season competitions were. Rehearsing in her lucky leotard at the venue and then having to change would only slow her down... but she didn’t care. She knew that if she didn’t run through her dance a few times in her leotard and ended up losing, she’d never be able to forgive herself. So she threw her solo costume into her dance bag, slicked her hair into a high ponytail, and headed for the door.
As she flopped down onto her bed after a long day at school, Mollie let out a groan. After a long day at school, a short trip to the library to make sure she got a bit of chemistry studying in, and a run, she was exhausted, and all she wanted to do was sleep for twelve hours. But she couldn’t. Just like every other day, she had to go to dance. And with her Nutcracker performance coming up that Friday, rehearsal was even more mandatory than normal, if that was even possible. Especially since the week before, the girl who’d gotten the role of the Sugarplum Fairy broke her ankle, and Mollie was chosen to take over her role. Taking on a lead role in a matter of two weeks was pretty daunting, but the young blonde knew she couldn’t turn it down. It was a good opportunity, even if the stress of preparing for it was starting to ware on her. Before she’d switched to this studio, she thought nothing could be more hectic than getting ready to compete in national level competitions, but boy, was she wrong.
Somehow, Mollie was able to force herself off of her bed and over to her dresser, wrapping her arms tightly around her body as she trudged across the floor. Her hands felt ice cold as they brushed against her bare arms, but she was used to that. She pulled open her top dresser drawer and grabbed the black leotard that was laying on top. She had to dig a little deeper to find a clean pair of tights, though, and that’s when she saw it. Her old lucky leotard. She lifted it out of the drawer slowly and examined it. With the stretched out fabric and seams, it looked quite a bit more worn than all the other leotards she’d had in her rotation for the past year and a half. Her new studio liked the dancers to look professional, even when they were just rehearsing, so her lucky leotard had been retired after she stopped competing. But more than anything, Mollie wanted to wear it that day. And for the rest of that week. She knew that with the performance coming up that Friday, she needed the luck now more than ever. So she slipped it on, and stepped back in front of her mirror where she’d stood preparing for nationals a year and a half ago.
Mollie frowned when she saw herself in the leotard. She hadn’t expected it to look this... different. Before nationals, she’d filled it out. And now, it was practically hanging off of her. The collar wasn’t snugly fitted against her neck, and the bottom of the leotard that once felt tight around her prominent leg muscles now barely touched her thighs. She ran her fingers down the side of her leotard like she had once before, but instead of noticing the loose seams, she noticed all the extra fabric. She turned to the side and sighed once more. Mollie knew she couldn’t go to dance looking like that. But after re-discovering it, she felt like she needed to wear it. So she grabbed a handful of safety pins out of her desk drawer, bunched the extra fabric of the leotard up in the back, and started to pin away.
Mollie’s headphones were in, and her music was blasting. She didn’t want to be able to hear anything that was going on in the dressing room, she just wanted to focus. So she tuned everyone else out and ran her number, so concentrated that she let out a small shriek when she felt a tap on her shoulder. “You need to hurry up and get changed, kid. There are only a few numbers left before you need to be on stage,” her coach told her. So as quickly as possible, Mollie slid out of her leotard and into her beautiful, maroon red, two-piece costume, and headed out of the dressing room with her other teammates who had solos to perform.
Mollie started cracking her fingers, a nervous habit she’d picked up over the years. “Molls, you don’t have anything to worry about. You haven’t lost all season. This competition isn’t going to be any different,” one of her friends assured her. And she nodded in response, but she knew it wasn’t completely true. This competition was different. There was more at stake. Not only was it nationals, but it was her last nationals before she started competing as a teen instead of a junior. And winning in the teen division was a lot more difficult than winning as a junior. Mollie loved dance, she really did, and it hadn’t ever been completely about winning to her. But she’d won a lot over the past year, and it gave her a lot of confidence. She didn’t want that confidence to go away.
She was the last soloist to dance from her studio, so Mollie stood in the wings as she watched her teammates perform. She cracked her fingers again, and started to bop up and down on the balls of her feet. Apparently, you could sense her nervousness from a mile away, seeing as two of the stagehands approached her and asked her if she wanted to push her number back a few so that she could relax and calm down a bit. She thought about taking them up on that offer, but before she could respond, she heard her name announced, and she made her way onto the stage.
Despite her once lucky leotard not fitting the same way it used to, Mollie opted to wear it to her rehearsal anyways. Of course, she slid a sweater over the top of it to hide all the pins that were on her back, and she’d put on her biggest, baggiest sweatpants and sweatshirt for her ride over. But still, it was on her body. And just like it used to, it was giving her confidence. Steps she’d been forgetting the night before, she was nailing during rehearsal. The turns she’d been falling out of were looking beautiful. And the lifts that had made her so nervous were looking graceful. When it was time for a water break, her ballet teacher gave her a nod of approval, and quite a few of the other dancers let her know how well she was doing too. Mollie couldn’t even remember the last time she’d felt that good in the studio.
Most of the dancers took that opportunity to have a small snack, while Mollie just settled for her water bottle. A few minutes later, they all filed back into the studio, and gathered around their teacher as she gave them a few corrections. Mollie could feel her leotard starting to get looser as she listened to the woman speak, and she fidgeted a little before shooting her hand up in the air to ask if she could be excused to use the bathroom. She figured a few of her pins had come undone, and that would be the best place to readjust them. “You just had your break. You should’ve gone then,” the woman responded in her thick Russian accent. “We’re working on lifts now, and you and Cole’s is up first.”
Mollie danced crazily with her friends on the stage as they all waited for awards to start. The shake-y, panicked girl who’d stood backstage that morning was nowhere to be found, and bubbly, confident Mollie was standing in her place. She’d killed her solo, and done pretty well on her duet and group number too, so she was feeling pretty content. Of course, she was still a little nervous about the results, but not nearly as nervous as she had been to dance. When she walked off that stage, she knew she’d done her very best, and that’s all she could do.
When the MC announced that awards were starting, the stage went from being complete chaos to a couple hundred dancers sitting quietly with their hands in their laps in only a matter of seconds. As usual, they started with the mini solo awards, then the petite ones, and then they arrived at Mollie’s category. The young girl wrapped her arms around herself, nervously tugging at the worn fabric of her lucky leotard that she’d slipped back on for awards. They announced tenth through second place, and Mollie had yet to hear her name called. The MC did a drumroll before announcing their national junior title winner, and once the crowd settled down, Mollie’s name was announced. She jumped up off the ground in excitement, and her teammates did too, smothering her with hugs before she could even take a step in the direction of her award.
Mollie was a lucky girl, and she knew that. She’d had a lot of great moments in her life. But this one had to be one of the very best.
“Ow! Mollie, what the fuck?” Cole shouted, dropping the girl from her lift as he was stuck by one of the pins. She winced when she hit the ground, partly from the fall, and partly because a couple of the pins had been pushed into her back too. But she couldn’t bring herself to explain to Cole, the other dancers in the room, and her ballet teacher why she’d done what she’d done. I wanted to wear my ratty old leotard because I think it’s lucky sounded ridiculous in that moment, so she just sat there, her mouth gaping open. When she didn’t say anything, her teacher darted over to her, lifting up her sweater to reveal the pins on her back. No one was too surprised to see them, her teacher included, but she still looked furious. And after a ten minute verbal lashing about how stupid she was for doing something so irresponsible, and how she was selfish for only thinking of herself, she was thrown out of the rehearsal.
So she made her way into the bathroom, and the second she heard the door close behind her, tears came flooding out of her eyes. She hadn’t cried in awhile, but in that moment, she just couldn’t help it. She cried because she was exhausted, she cried because her grades still weren’t up to par, she cried because she felt like a failure, she cried because it felt like she was consistently letting everyone she loved down, but mostly, she cried because no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t feel comfortable in her own skin.
Over the past year and a half, Mollie had experienced more hard moments than she could count. But this one had to be one of the very hardest.
#eating disorder tw#this para is an actual mess ok#and if u decide to read it good luck#also the indented paras are a flashback to before she started high school if that wasn't obvious#and the other ones are present day#also if ed stuff is triggering to u dont read this!!!#i mention it more than i have in her stuff in the past#im just goin thru some stuff and writing this helped me idK#also srry for the obnoxious amount of tags omg
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I didn't expect to be at the World Cup - England boss Southgate
Tunisia v England Date: Monday, 18 June (19:00 BST) Venue: Volgograd Arena, Volgograd Coverage: Watch the game live on BBC One, the BBC Sport website and app. Listen live on 5 live. with live text commentary online
England manager Gareth Southgate admits he never wanted or expected to be on the World Cup journey to Russia – but he is now relishing the anticipation and excitement of Monday’s opener against Tunisia.
Southgate was handed the England job full-time in November 2016 when Sam Allardyce left[1] after just one game when he was caught in a newspaper sting.
Allardyce had only taken over 67 days earlier, after Roy Hodgson’s resignation following the last-16 exit to Iceland in Euro 2016.
He guided England to Russia in an undefeated qualifying campaign and early qualms about how he got the job have been replaced by the excitement of guiding his country in Volgograd on Monday.
England will put hearts on the line[2]
Predict who will win the World Cup[3]
Southgate told BBC Sport: “It is a journey I didn’t expect or want to be on.
“I was hoping that in the last Euros the team was going to do really well and Roy would still be there.
“When Sam Allardyce was appointed I was the under-21 coach and there to support him.
“I have said from the off I wasn’t comfortable with the manner in which I took the reins but I have enjoyed the responsibility.
“I have enjoyed having the role and I think I was the best qualified person with the best experiences to take it at the time it came up.”
“I’m not a tourist”
Southgate admits that while he will enjoy the unique pressure of the World Cup, he knows it is a serious business as England expects his team to deliver in Russia.
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“As the manager I’m hugely excited and hugely proud,” added Southgate. “But I’m not a tourist. I’m not here just to enjoy it.”
Southgate admitted he stood in front of the mirror in his full training kit when he won his first England call-up – but there will be no such indulgence in the final build-up to the match against Tunisia.
“I am enjoying it and I’m going to enjoy it but I’m here to develop the team and do my job for everyone at home.
“I can’t just be puffing like a peacock in front of the mirror looking at the Three Lions.”
Sleepless in Volgograd?
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Southgate was finalising England’s preparations at their Zelenogorsk training base before they fly to the heat of Volgograd on Sunday – confident the planning will be done.
And despite this being the biggest game of his managerial career and England’s most crucial since the fiasco of the 2-1 loss to Iceland in Nice that sent them crashing out in the last 16 at Euro 2016, Southgate is not expecting a sleepless night before the big day.
“I think everything in terms of preparation will be done.
“I think there is an importance for the players at this time that we don’t overload them with information and normally the night before a game I sleep at my best because the preparations and the decisions I have to take are all done.
“You have some messages to give to the players but unfortunately for them it goes on their shoulders a little bit on match day so I generally sleep very well.
“Hopefully there will be somewhere to go for a run or get out and do some exercise.
“We might cover some set plays at some point during the day with the players but really we feel well planned and ready for the game.”
Famous last words
Southgate’s most famous sound bite came after the quarter-final loss to Brazil in Shizuoka, Japan, in the 2002 World Cup when he said that at half-time, under manager Sven-Goran Eriksson, England “needed Winston Churchill but got Iain Duncan-Smith”.
He will have a final message for his players – but will weigh up their mood before delivering the last words they will hear before leaving the dressing room.
Southgate said: “I’m always waiting to see what the feel of the group is on the day. It won’t be tactical because we will have covered that and they will be sick to death of hearing that.
“It is normally something that is to prepare them emotionally and psychologically for the game but a team is a living, breathing, moving animal and they are in a different psychological place from one hour to the next, so you really have to assess that.”
He added: “You have an idea in your mind of the messages that will be key but the exact nature of it tends to come as I get closer to that moment of speaking to them.”
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References
^ Sam Allardyce left (www.bbc.co.uk)
^ England will put hearts on the line (www.bbc.co.uk)
^ Predict who will win the World Cup (www.bbc.co.uk)
BBC Sport – Football
I didn't expect to be at the World Cup – England boss Southgate was originally published on 365 Football
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MLB vs. Florida: When the league protested segregated living quarters during spring training
From left: Wes Convington, Hank Aaron, and Bob Hazle of the Milwaukee Braves, 1957.
Major League Baseball wanted its black and white players to integrate at team hotels and venues during spring training. The state of Florida did not want integration.
That’s how 12 of MLB’s 18 teams found themselves in the middle of an intense standoff during this week in 1961. Whispers about pulling out of the Sunshine State and moving spring training to states like California or Arizona were beginning to sound less like rumors and more like the league’s resolution to the issue.
MLB’s leadership drew its line in the sand that its black players deserved, at the minimum, the right to live and eat with their white counterparts during spring training. MLB gave Florida an ultimatum: accept the whole team in housing or prepare for a mass exodus from the state.
This all started in January, when the New Pittsburgh Courier‘s Wendell Smith broke the news that there was animosity from the black players about their treatment during the spring and an unnamed owner who told Smith he would relocate his team as soon as possible if the issue went unresolved.
“If they continue to force us to make our negro players live apart from the team, I am going to pull the club out of Florida as soon as I can find a training site in the West,” the owner told Smith on Jan. 7, 1961.
“How do you think we feel?” an unnamed player asked in the same article. “When we have to get off the bus in the negro section of town and the rest of the team goes on to the hotel where they stay across the tracks? It certainly is embarrassing to us. There is a lot of joking about it during spring training, but behind the joking there is a lot of bad feeling. I don’t understand why the owners, who spend thousands of dollars in these training camp towns, don’t take a stand and tell the hotels that they have to take all the players or none.”
Robert Wimbish, president of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP), issued a statement condemning the Jim Crow living accommodations. Prior to 1961, the NAACP helped the league find hotels that would allow black players. But it dawned on Wimbish that by helping teams do this, the organization was aiding separate but equal, which ran counter to the NAACP’s ideals.
Ten black players had spoken out about their dissatisfaction with the segregated living quarters, including Milwaukee Braves outfielder Henry “Hank” Aaron.
“We most certainly are displeased,” Aaron told the Baltimore Afro-American on Feb. 11, 1961. “At least I am, and I know Wes [Covington] and Billy Burton who was with us until traded this winter, also resented having to live away from the rest of the club.
“The people with whom we stayed were very nice to us,” said Burton, who was dealt to the Detroit Tigers. “It was nothing to do with them personally. But what gives anyone the idea that we shouldn’t have wanted the same accommodations as were afforded the rest of the guys?”
While there was no formal organization of the complaints, the individuals speaking up were mostly saying the same thing and speaking out against Braves general manager Birdie Tebbetts, who said that the Braves had received no complaints from their players about dual living accommodations.
In fact, Tebbetts said the players seemed satisfied with the way things were. That outraged the black ballplayers who had spoken up and opened the door for more to discuss the issue, so MLB knew it wasn’t just confined to one squad.
“He [Tebbetts] says the players haven’t complained,” the Cincinnati Reds’ Frank Robinson said. “All of us have been hurt by the condition. It could be nothing but their indifference that kept the owners from understanding how we felt. You don’t have to be told that you’re digging a pin in a man’s face.”
By March, cities in Florida began testing the league, offering a single floor in a hotel to the black major leaguers. MLB pointed out the living quarters were still segregated and that would not be to its satisfaction. In Sarasota, Florida, the Chamber of Commerce found one sympathetic motel that would allow the Chicago White Sox team to stay in integrated living quarters. While in Bradenton, Florida, the training stands and washrooms at the stadium of the Braves’ facility had all racial distinction markers removed.
The New York Yankees (St. Petersburg), St. Louis Cardinals (St. Petersburg), Braves (Bradenton), Kansas City Athletics (West Palm Beach), Tigers (Lakeland), Philadelphia Phillies (Clearwater), Washington Senators (Pompano Beach), Baltimore Orioles (Miami), Cincinnati Reds (Tampa Bay), Pittsburgh Pirates (Fort Myers), Minnesota Twins (Orlando) and White Sox (Sarasota) all had facilities in towns with dual living accommodations.
The lone club in Florida free of Jim Crow housing discrimination was the Los Angeles Dodgers. Since 1949, the team used an abandoned air base at Vero Beach, Florida, 150 miles north of Miami. All of their players lived in the same barracks and ate together. The five teams that practiced in California and Arizona also had no such issues with segregation.
On July 10, in San Francisco at the team meetings before All-Star Weekend, the issue would come to a resolution as the league examined Florida’s reaction to their demands.
“They shouldn’t have to guess whether we like it or not,” said Vada Pinson of the Reds. “Nobody enjoys being regarded as something inferior — not good enough to live with his brothers.”
Said the St. Louis Cardinals’ Dick Ricketts: “Last year, I was up to here with this thing. I beat about St. Petersburg so long, trying to find some place decent to live and eat. I was ready to sleep in my car when a good friend came to my rescue.”
Eleven months after the issue was first reported, five of the 12 teams that lived in segregated housing found new accommodations.
The White Sox remained in Sarasota but paid $500,000 to buy the hotel so the whole team could live and dine together. After more than 25 years, the Yankees pulled out of St. Petersburg and moved to Fort Lauderdale, Florida. Like New York, the Braves relocated from Bradenton to the resort of Palmetto, Florida.
St. Louis threatened officials in St. Petersburg that it would follow the Yankees’ example, and in a sudden change of heart, the officials amended the policy. The Orioles remained in Miami, but before doing so they put word out that they would only stay in a hotel that accepted all players.
The first-year New York Mets took over the Yankees’ St. Petersburg vacancy with the caveat that the team would move there only if there were no racial restrictions. But as a new spring training approached, black players on the Reds, Pirates, Phillies, Tigers, Athletics, Senators and Twins were subjected to another trip to Florida with segregated living and dining quarters.
Rhiannon Walker is an associate editor at The Undefeated. She is a drinker of Sassy Cow Creamery chocolate milk, an owner of an extensive Disney VHS collection, and she might have a heart attack if Frank Ocean doesn’t drop his second album.
UCLA Bruins quarterback Josh Rosen throws a pass during the 2018 NFL Combine at Lucas Oil Stadium.
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