#and my immediate thought was STRIKER

[inkykeiji]

also i keep seeing that boothill guy around and first of all he reminds me of striker and second of all what kind of name is boothill my good god

[dooxliss]

Omg hi Gari! Could you assign me a Mario song pretty please? 👉👈 🥺

omg hi mimi!! ofc 🩵

merlee’s mansion

mr. l, green thunder

(any other mutuals are free to send an ask! :])

[gumm1defloor]

thankyouthankyouthankyou thankyou so much omfg

I have a confession: I don't like Carmilla's character. And it might be me, but she just does not make sense?

I mean she's generally okay and seems a coherent character but what bugs me so much is her singing

I always thought that I would keep blood off my face

Lady. Excuse me, but you sell guns in Hell. What does it mean??? You are a pacifist making guns? You sell guns in Hell and you've never killed anyone? You are concerned by war and violence and you sell guns to evil people???

Like, if someone can explain me this writing, I'm open to conversation.

[shyhaya]

Hii! Can i plzzzplz request hcs/ or scenario of Barou,Rin, Kunigami and isagi liking the manager of their schools soccer team :DD???

Hi darling, here's your request! please forgive me for taking so long

──────♡──────

Oh Wait, Am I In Love? [Barou Shoei, Itoshi Rin, Kunigami Rensuke & Isagi Yoichi x GN! Reader / SFW]

❯── Barou ──❮

What an interesting situation.

I don't think he would notice his own feelings towards you until he's in too deep.

His teammates certainly noticed before him but they were all scared of telling him anything.

Nevertheless, maybe he heard them talking about his 'soft' if we can call it that attitude towards you.

He did treat you like a peasant, like everyone else, but he actually listened to you when you talked.

Plus, you got to be around him and even tease him sometimes and not even once he reacted brashly towards you!

Everyone in the team is shocked.

When he finally realizes this fact, his entire view of you changed slightly.

Now he understood why he tolerated your presence and even liked to hang out with you.

He was a bit clueless on how to approach you on this topic, but he's driven by the thought of possibly having even more of your attention.

Congratulations! You've been promoted from useful peasant to the King's consort! :3

──────♡──────

❯── Rin ──❮

This one's tough.

Rin can be dense sometimes, but he was the first one to realize he fancied you.

It wasn't even obvious to anybody else, but he noticed the slight changes. How he found you attractive and not a lukewarm like the others.

He liked your advice and actually followed it, and your presence always helped him concentrate or not during practice and even real games.

But what is Rin Itoshi if not a stubborn brat?

He wouldn't tell you about his feelings right away.

If someone notices his almost kind attitude towards you he would deny it or just say it isn't anyone's business.

Soon though, he gets jealous of the rest of team because they're all nice and close to you.

This would be enough for the dam he built to contain his feelings to break.

He had a feeling you liked him too, so there's no way he's letting you go.

Good luck.

──────♡──────

❯── Kunigami ──❮

Oh, Rensuke baby, love, honey- I'll stop now.

He's clueless at first.

You're really nice to everyone, so he naturally gets along with you.

He doesn't find different how he's soon hanging out with you often he's like a big puppy!

During practice he's focused and still can't help but to glance at your direction, finding you adorable as you watch the practice match and how your eyes sparkle as they meet his.

Every time someone from the team mentions you, he immediately perks up.

His teammates realize this and they are the ones who make him realize.. he did like you, but in a whole different way than the rest of them did.

After that he gets a bit flustered every time you're close or when you get worried if he gets hurt during a game or practice.

He's an honest guy though, so he would tell you. No beating around the bush.

He's hopeful that you'll accept him, and can't wait to have you his own I accept my love, I'll even marry you if you want-

──────♡──────

❯── Isagi ──❮

Man, he realized his feelings for you fast.

He was kinda clueless at first, but after analyzing your interactions and how he couldn't help but to admire you, he accepted he was smitten.

He's the one who's all flustered when you're being your usual kind self and asking him if he's alright.

Stutters a bit more and is distracted by how pretty you are.

It's adorable how he tries to act normal but he's also trying to compliment you and maybe give you some clues about how he feels.

All of his teammates notice this and soon they're all teasing him every time they see him looking at you during practice.

He wants to test the waters first, figure out if you like him before he confesses.

If he notices even a slight chance of you liking him back, then he will take the chance. It's what s striker does anyway.

He's so sweet when he actually tells you.

Please say yes, this guy spent all night thinking of all the possible scenarios of how his confesión would go.

[shotoh]

— in which they slowly find themselves enamored by the natural charms of their interviewer

feat. itoshi rin, nagi seishiro, itoshi sae

cw + tw. nothing much just fluff, fem!reader, interviewer/reporter!reader, aged-up!characters, characters are professional athletes and continue playing in their teams from the neo egoist league (except sae)

notes. first time posting blue lock so apologies if anyone’s ooc, either way i might make a follow-up of this (that might be more uh ya know) and/or add characters

ITOSHI RIN

the sound that follows the harsh slam of his locker is a frustrating sigh that has been simmering in rin’s chest since the end of today’s match. the match in which he had lost—and at the hands of isagi’s team which makes the defeat all the more bitter and disgusting on his tongue. it didn’t help that during the game, he was butting heads with his supposed teammate, shidou. once the coach had decided to sub the eccentric player in, their styles began mixing like oil and water. as a result, their win was swooped up from under them.

pxg has been called to host a post-sport interview to review the match with reporters, but rin couldn’t care less to participate. instead, he’s the very last person to leave the locker rooms. his duffle bag is slung over his shoulder, steps ambling down the hallway.

whether he wins or loses, rin never bothers to attend these post-game interviews. he doesn’t need to sit there and have brash reporters shoot the same questions at him, expecting him to “thank his coach and teammates,��� “praise his opponents for a great game today,” and say he’ll “continue to work hard to win next time.” gross. he’d rather be caught dead than have any of those words leave his mouth.

as rin navigates through the hallways of the stadium, he’s hoping to be done with the day and think over the turn of events on his own. but when he rounds the corner, he crosses eyes with someone so obviously lost in the facility—a mistake which punishes him as you immediately approach him with doe, bewildered eyes.

“sorry, i don’t mean to bother you, but i was wondering where the conference for pxg was being held,” you ask. a pad of notes are cradled in your arms, pen clipped to the breast pocket of your blazer. it’s clear you’re another reporter.

before he can point you in the right direction to get you out of his hair, you squint. you’re taking a long, hard look at him until your face suddenly glows. “wait, you’re itoshi rin, the striker for pxg!” you practically blurt. with the volume of your voice, rin’s instincts take hold, and he’s pulling you away from the open space of the hallway.

“quiet. you want everyone to hear?” rin chastises.

“whoops. i got a little excited! i-i’ve been wanting to interview pxg’s top player and well…” you could say the opportunity presented itself, but rin makes it clear he’s not interested.

“if you’re here just to hear me mope over my loss, then go home,” the striker affirms to what he thinks will be the last of this exchange until you tug on the sleeve of his jersey before he starts walking away. turning his head back to glance at you, his brow quirks.

“no, of course not! i thought it was incredible how you were able to keep control of the ball from your opponents and even score the first two points of the game all by yourself!” you exclaim, face lifting as it’s teeming with admiration. surprisingly, he can’t help but be a bit amused by the determined expression etched over the perplexed look that was originally on your features.

you swipe your pen hanging off your pocket, prompting it open with a click of your thumb. “and i’m sure a lot of your fans would love to hear from you!”

the athlete cocks his head. “you’re acting like a fan yourself, miss reporter.”

you blink in surprise. the enthusiasm in your words tones down, but you fail to mask it completely. “what? no, i’m just here to get the exclusive on the best athletes of our country!” if your plan is to butter him up to get a word out of him, it may almost work. you send him another fawning look as if to say “can you blame me though?” and that stirs a low chuckle from his throat.

his face lowers until it’s slightly more leveled with your own, and from this angle, you’re amazed to find you can distinguish every distinct eyelash on his pretty face. and you’re even more enamored by the intense color of his teal eyes. at the proximity, however, your face bathes in the heat of the blood rushing to your cheeks. thankfully, the striker breaks eye contact in favor of taking the notepad from your arms, along with your pen which he uses to scribble something down.

“tell you what,” he says as he continues writing, “come to the next pxg match and i’ll give you an exclusive interview, right after i score at least four goals and decimate the other team.”

his declaration leaves you in awe, and your fascination persists when he hands your pen and pad back for you to see a ten digit number, followed by call my manager written next to it.

NAGI SEISHIRO

back when he was in school, nagi was never great at first impressions. and apparently that’s still the case even later on in his career as a professional striker.

he doesn’t even notice you enter the room as he’s preoccupied with tapping the controls for the first person shooter on his phone. as such, he’s woefully unprepared to hear the reluctant, but soft voice that vies for his attention.

“um, excuse me. if you don’t mind, i’d like to get started with the interview.”

taking a slow glimpse above his screen, he sees the refreshing sight of you—his interviewer—sitting across from him in your neat attire and a clipboard on your lap. surprised by the modest smile that greets him, he automatically straightens up and casts his phone to the side.

it’s a big contrast to what he was expecting. usually, scruffy men who claim they’re adept and knowledgeable in the sport would be shoving their mics in his face. when in reality those people are just washed up high school coaches or analysts who act all high and mighty by asking a bunch of nonsense questions. saying this and that about how they would have done it differently had they been in the game instead of him. regardless, they’re such a pain and nagi would rather be napping in his cloud mattress than go through another talk session with those wannabes. however, his encounter with you just might break this boring streak.

he rubs the back of his head sheepishly, playing off the crass first impression. “right. start whenever you want.”

once he gives you the go ahead, you flip through a few pages to your questions.

as time goes on, the sentiment nagi initially held about how the interview might have been a pain and a waste of his time in his already packed schedule begins to sway. throughout the inquiries, he finds himself fixated on you. like the flattering nude color touched up on your plush lips. or how you have a habit of playing with strands of your hair when contemplating on what question to ask next. or the cute laugh you let out that was pleasant to his ears when he gave a much more aloof answer than you were expecting.

well, he can’t change the fact that he doesn’t need to think much when it comes to football. that’s just how naturally talented he is��the sport is second nature to him. honestly, he’s a bit bummed out that he can’t give a competent interviewer like you better responses.

what catches the snowy haired striker slightly off-guard is your next topic of questions about his e-sport endorsements. he wasn’t expecting you to delve into his hobbies. most interviews always glossed over that area in favor of asking something along the lines of “what was going through your head when you made that winning goal,” to which he could only say he was too caught up in the moment to really convey the feelings into words.

but with this opportunity, nagi goes on a mild tangent about the new first person shooter he’s been playing. even if his tone sounds indifferent on the surface, you don’t miss the hidden enthusiasm under the brighter twinkle of his eyes. you giggle which makes nagi pause.

“did i say something weird?” he asks back. you swear you detect a tonal whine in his voice, another endearing trait you didn’t know a 190 cm striker could possess.

“no.. just find it cute how much you can talk about your favorite games like that.”

nagi can’t tell whether the grin on your pretty lips is there to tease him or that you find his boyish charms endearing. either way, his cheeks puff and that only serves to make him more adorable in your eyes.

“well don’t let me stop you! i’d like to hear more about what things interest you other than soccer.” the look on your face fascinates him. you’re not even looking at your clipboard anymore, but right at him. it’s the tell-tale sign of someone who genuinely wants to know him not as the star player of manshine city, but just as regular nagi seishiro. he’s not used to that sort of treatment and as a result, he can’t meet your eyes, not realizing he flushes a lovely shade of pink that reaches the tips of his ears.

nagi pouts, glancing down at his phone that’s been laying near his thigh, untouched for a record of what must be ages, but that honestly doesn’t feel long enough to him. “no fair… you’re just teasing me…” he murmurs, but his fingers are already itching to ask his manager if he can extend the interview to spend more time with you.

ITOSHI SAE

the first opportunity you get to interview the itoshi sae is unconventional, to say the least.

“excuse me! please let me through–!”

“miss, you can’t be here– hey!”

the setting is chaotic, to the point where sae can make out the commotion in the background as he’s walking toward his rest area with his manager and bodyguard following beside him. when he glimpses at what all the fuss is about, he witnesses security personnel wrangle with a stray reporter.

spotting the reddish haired athlete, you find an opportunity to call out to him. “itoshi sae, please, may i have a word with you?”

to your dismay, security persistently blocks your view of the midfielder. despite being obstructed by a pair of burly men almost twice your size, you give them more of a struggle as you thrash around, even reprimanding them to “keep their hands to themselves if they know what’s good for them.” sae can’t help but be amused. a part of him finds your efforts admirable—watching you scrunch up your uniform and crease your notes at just a chance to speak with him.

“mister itoshi is far too busy to entertain any more of you today. please make your way to the exit–”

“it’s fine,” sae interjects to everyone’s surprise—mostly to the utter astonishment of you and his manager. the latter’s eyes widen scrupulously before he cups his hand next to the pro athlete’s ear.

“sir, i believe we’ll be running late to your next scheduled event if you decide to do a last minute interview,” the manager warns warily. “besides, haven’t you talked to enough of the media today? i mean look at her, she doesn’t even seem worth your time–”

“push everything back thirty minutes if you have to.”

his manager gawks. “but..?!”

one side-eye of sae’s piercing ocean eyes is enough for the man to retract his statement and mumble his apologies. that said and done, the security guards withdraw to let you through. you’re astonished by how much the situation can flip with the cooperation of a renown professional.

sae’s staff lead you into his spacious break room, preparing a set of chairs and leaving glasses of water on the coffee table before you start. having already taken his seat, he watches you run your hands through the wrinkled material of your blouse and pencil skirt. after finally fixing your stray hairs in place, you sit in front of him in all your pristine as if the whole conflict from earlier never happened. he wants to give you another point for professionalism.

“once again, thank you so much for granting me the opportunity to speak to you today,” you beam, mocking his manager hovering in the background with your unbeknownst-to-sae sly little smile.

sae grins, charmed. you arrange your notes one last time before moving onto your questions.

during the interview, sae comes to know your professionalism isn’t merely for show. you’ve done your research, analyzed his plays—his techniques, and as a result, ask him the most intriguing inquiries he’s sure no reporters asked him before. and he’s had his fair share of interviews throughout his developing career as a child prodigy. it’s evident you weren’t planning to waste his time and he’s appreciative of that fact.

there’s also an air of zeal you possess that allures him. he can’t exactly pinpoint what it is. your ingenuity? your liveliness? either way, he can’t imagine this to be his last interaction with you, and he makes sure that won’t be the case.

at just a simple snap of his finger, his manager is at his side. you have to hold in a snicker at how the man scurries over to the midfielder like a dog.

the two exchange a few words you don’t catch, only deciphering the dumbfounded look on the manager’s face which clashes with the stoic expression on sae’s. whatever the conversation was about, the former knows it’s a losing battle. at his loss, he pulls out a lanyard from the compartment attached to his clipboard. he gives it to sae, who takes it and leans across the space between you two to place it in your awaiting hands, as if you already knew from the manager’s defeated mannerisms that it was meant to be yours.

“this is..?” you begin inquiring as you eye the card on the lanyard methodically.

sae beats you to your discovery of that answer. “an exclusive press pass, which you can use to reach out to me again following any matches i’ve played in.”

mouth hanging open, you switch back and forth between the pass and sae’s marine eyes which don’t hold a shred of doubt.

he puts it simply.

“i’d like to continue this interview with you again.”

copyright 2023 shotoh, all rights reserved. i do not allow my creations to be published or translated anywhere else so please do not repost this or share my content on tiktok.

[pinkcarnatixns]

leah williamson | training wheels

synopsis your plan for a romantic date goes downhill when your girlfriend admits she doesn't know how to ride a bike [2.1K] contents pouty! leah, slight injury, slightly suggestive

You really thought that your girlfriend would be blown away by your plans for a romantic date, but you apparently had made a quite significant miscalculation. 

Leah, constantly one to sweep you off your feet, had organized a sweet weekend getaway to Amsterdam for your six month anniversary. Since joining the club and hitting it off with the blonde, you hadn’t had much time to explore around Europe like you’d hoped when you first decided to make the move. With the way she hung onto your every word, Leah had clearly remembered this small detail and planned an extremely thoughtful getaway around it, surprising you with the plane tickets after training one day. 

You were nearly drunk on the amount of affection you felt for the girl, having been sufficiently pampered with the amount of plans she had made for the two of you. The day before, Leah had arranged a walking tour of the city which, wanting to stay in her own little bubble with you- was guided by the overexcited girl herself. Judging by the exasperated texts you received from a certain Dutch striker afterwards, it seemed that she had really gone all out to impress you, even if it meant she was never allowed to ask Viv a question again. If you hadn’t been completely gone for her by that point, you had arrived back to your beautiful hotel room just to see a new dress and heels laid out on your bed, before you were promptly shooed off to get ready. 

When you stepped out of the bathroom that had turned into your holding cell at her insistence, you were pleasantly surprised by the sight of your girlfriend in a suit you had picked out for her during one of your first ‘dates.’ She had been so nervous then, and desperate for an excuse to see you away from your teammates’ teasing remarks, using the excuse of an upcoming event to have you go shopping together. You never did get to see her in it, and when you had started dating, she claimed that it was too precious and had to be used for an incredibly important event. 

Apparently, she had deemed her surprise dinner date a special enough occasion, almost missing the reservation due to your appreciation of her attire. After hours of giggling over an expensive bottle of wine and being kindly told to wrap it up by staff, both your stomach and heart were completely full. Stumbling around in the streets hand-in-hand, entirely too dressed up while looking for ice cream with her jacket hugging your shoulders, you could have died happy.

So, after finally collapsing for the night and drifting on cloud nine, you decided you wanted to return the favor somewhat- to make her swoon for once. With a free day tomorrow, and her snoring softly in your ear with your head pillowed by her arm, you sneakily turned your phone brightness down and hatched your plan. 

In the morning, even though Leah took so much coaxing to get out of bed that your lips were sore, you had succeeded in getting her dressed and out the door. Not one to enjoy being out of the know, she had attempted many sneaky glances at your navigation app, receiving warning glances every time she tried to distract you from your mission. As you approached, you gave her a deceivingly sweet smile, immediately making her suspicious. “Love, you’re being quite cryptic and we’ve gotten pretty rural. Do I really treat you so badly you’ve taken me to the Dutch countryside to kill me?”

“Leah! Where’s your sense of adventure?” You pout at her with hands on your hips, determined to have your dream realized. “Now can you close your eyes please?”

“Oh, this is really the end for me now. Tell my mum I love her.” She sasses back at you, but does as you say anyhow, putting her hands over her eyes for emphasis. You mock her accent and pouty tone under your breath, but delicately guide her by the crook of her elbow, taking care that she doesn’t trip over anything. 

She lets you lead her, careful to keep her eyes shut to avoid upsetting you and whatever has gotten you so excited. You firmly tell her to stay where she is and reinforce that she needs to keep her eyes shut before she hears your steps walk off. She worries you’ve gone and left her abandoned there before she makes out your voice talking to someone quietly, curious at the clanging that follows the conversation. Relieved at the warmth of your hands returning to her, you slowly take her hands away from her eyes. “I’m going to count down! Stay here- ” She hears you scurry off and at your prompt, opens her eyes, letting them adjust to the sunny day. 

“Ta-da!!” Her eyes focus on you, before dragging over to what you’re gesturing excitedly to. Hand gestures highlighting two bikes- fuck. Her face goes completely red as you prattle on, “We’ll be so cute! And this path up here goes just past some pretty tulip fields, we can stop and have a picnic!” 

Silently and not quite meeting your gaze, she grabs one of the bikes by the handlebars and starts walking it past the stand where you had rented them- nodding in thanks to the old man running it. This leaves you completely confused, and you jog your bike over to where she’s walked off, “Is it horribly cheesy? Do you hate it? I’m sorry I just wanted to do something for you because-” 

Once out of range of the little bike stand, she whips around to face you and mumbles something under her breath, only making eye contact with her feet. You tilt your head questioningly, prompting her to try again, and she rushes out “‘m not good at riding bikes.”

As you take a second to actually process her fast words, it’s your turn to be embarrassed, “Leah! You’ve never told me you don’t know how to ride a bike? I dragged you all the way out here trying to be romantic!” 

She kicks around the gravel under her Birkenstocks, like a scolded kid pouting, “It’s embarrassing…” You sigh hard and start to speak before being cut off, “-And I know how to ride one I’m just not good at it!” 

You raise an eyebrow, and she immediately loses the nerve she had built up, averting her eyes again. Having been too determined to give up something you had been so excited for, you knock your kickstand and trudge over to her. “Well get on! We’re going to get your confidence up!” 

She realizes that you’re not giving up anytime soon, losing the battle of puppy-dog eyes that she initiated. You expect her to climb right onto the bike, but instead she also kicks her stand and steps away. You’re ready to protest, expecting that she’s ready to call it a day, but are surprised when she falls into a crouch in front of you. She hastily starts tucking the bottoms of her baggy jeans into her socks and glares up at your shaking form, trying to contain your laugh. “What! You really do want me to die, don’t you? What happened to safety first?”

You shoot her an apologetic glance, still letting some giggles escape as you ruffle her hair. “I’m very flattered that you care so much for some cheap H&M jeans I bought you love, but I think you’re safe. Now stop stalling!”

She shoots you a wary glance, but regardless stands and kicks her leg back over the bike, getting into position. “Now! The hardest part is just getting started and righting your balance so I’ll give you a little push!” 

Leaving her side to stand over the back wheel, you grab her hips to steady her as she places her foot on one of the pedals. She stiffens slightly and shoots you a wink over her shoulder at the new position, “Well miss cheeky! I bet this was your plan all along wasn’t it?”

At her teasing, you slightly lean her over to the side she isn’t resting on, crumbling her confidence and setting off her balance- her face paling immediately. “Hey! This is no way to treat someone who is greatly humoring you right now! We could’ve been having a grand old time back in our hotel room at this time!” 

“Sorry sorry! Just focus!” You giggle and feel your face get a bit hot at the implications of her words before continuing. “Okay you’re gonna sit up, look up-” She follows your words, and with a hard push from you, ��And pedal!” 

She wobbles a bit, clearly panicking and forgetting to actually pedal, having to put her feet back down to stop herself from completely toppling over. Catching her breath, she exasperates. “This is horrible! Who does this for fun? Psychopaths?” 

You try terribly hard not to laugh at her, but she’s just so cute and frustrated that you can't help yourself, shooting her a big smile at her withering glance. You really do appreciate that she’s trying for you, and lean up to give her a big, exaggerated kiss on the cheek with some words of encouragement. “You really almost had it baby! Just have to breathe and pedal, momentum helps a lot! Now come on, one more time, I’ve got you.”

She nearly hops off, and you rush to praise her so that she keeps at it, “You really are so brave lovie! I nearly had to be shipped off to the hospital when I was being taught!” She puffs up a little at the praise, and so you give her a proper kiss and continue, “My fearless, beautiful girlfriend!-”

“Alright alright, one more time but that is it! I don’t like making a fool of myself.” She backs up a little bit, ready to start again and clearly psyching herself up in her head. This time you’re stationed next to her, holding her handlebar with one hand and the seat cushion with the other. She glares down at the bike like it’s personally out to get her as you count her off, kissing her on the cheek and propelling her forward with all your strength on one. 

She gets some really good speed at your push, but once again forgets she needs to do the rest, righting her error as you yell desperately, “Pedal!” 

She starts really getting the hang of it with minimal swerving, and you whoop excitedly as she actually manages to turn the bike around and head back towards you, complete with a smug smirk on her face as she passes you. 

However, her pride doesn’t last for long enough as her eyes are still glued to you and not on the rock in her way. Before you can warn her, she’s crashing to the ground and you rush over to her deflated form. Luckily, her football instincts had clearly kicked in and she had landed with no injuries, bar some scrapes on her face and hand. You know you’re really in for it at the familiar frown you receive as you help her up. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The door chime indicating your exit from the small convenience store, you walk over to your poor girlfriend’s pathetic form, a cup of ice in one hand and box of plasters in the other. Sitting on the rough wood of the bench, she allows you to coo over her as you patch her up and hold ice over her thrumming wounds. 

You hold her hand in silence, laying your head on her shoulder as you sit side-by-side, watching the sun set over the beautiful tulip fields. You tear up a little bit, emotional at the view and that you were the cause of your girlfriend’s wounds, your plans slightly ruined. You nearly open your mouth to apologize again when she starts, “Thank you for today. I would’ve never thought to just sit outside and enjoy the view like this. And for believing in me, even if it was slightly misplaced.” She chuckles at the last part, placing her head on yours and nuzzling in slightly.  

You giggle at her sincere words, squeezing her hand in yours, reveling in the heat radiating off her accompanied by the comforting smell of her perfume. “All these flowers and you still have my favorite two lips in the world. Speaking of, I think I deserve a proper kiss after my act of courage today.”

You laugh at her horribly cheesy joke, but decide to indulge her anyway, pulling off her shoulder and cradling her poor wounded head in your hands as your lips meet.

a/n: thank u guys so much for the love on my last fic!! also terribly sorry if this doesn't make sense to my dutch friends </3 i am american

++ my reqs are open for more leah fics or for other woso girlies!

[akirathedramaqueen]

Some thoughts on the Western Energy trainwreck

Soo, I've come across that post, and... it made me thinking.

Stolas spent there the whole time, not knowing Blitzø *did*, in fact, send help. He assumed he was all alone, although still had some resemblance of hope, a fragile straw he hang on to piss off Striker, allowing to tear up only when one didn't look at him.

And... hell, I used to see many comments about how Blitzø let him down there... But did he?

Oh course, some think he did, and he surely thinks he did, too. But, although the whole sequence with him and Loona trying to get that S.H.O.T. was a fucking circus and looked like a joke compared to suffers Stolas had to endure and barely survive...

To be honest, these scenes being put together on surface do, in fact, make it think that the whole Stolas being on the verge of death ordeal is a joke to Blitzø and he would rather spend time running around with big needles and stuff.

If to get back to the phone convo between them at the beginning of the episode, Blitzø mentions that it took him 5 years to book that appointment, and it means a lot for him to not miss it. Missing out on that shot meant to put Loona in potential danger, his daughter, and, although we don't know what kind of shots they were talking about, we know for sure what does missing out on a vaccine schedule could mean in the real world - we tend to forget how dangerous polio, for instance, is, as most of us have access to the vaccine and don't get to experience it not even themselves, but in close vicinity as well. For us, vaccines might seem to be some kind of stupid routine, something we got comfortable with in a privileged world, something which surely could be skipped for a day, right? But in Blitzø's one they are luxury.

Despite all of that, I also want to put your attention to the fact that he wasn't going to ignore it. He is speeding up, and I think (although it's not expressed explicitly, but not everything should be, right?), that he already made up his mind that Stolas is a priority.

You are not thinking it's about shots, right? He wasn't that reckless in driving before *that* call.

And! He wasn't even the initiator of Millie and Moxxie going instead of him. *M&M's* were.

And Blitzø trusts them, because why not? They are his employees, they are skilled and capable, and they are his friends as well, they know that shit is important to him (although he isn't willing to admit it himself).

We see also, how Stolas was admitted to the hospital immediately, which already gives a hint on how different their stance in the world is. I wonder sometimes how it would've turned out if Stolas proposed to Blitzø to use the royal influence to get another appointment shortly after Blitzø saves him, but we know he didn't get much time to even think about that. He wasn't even able to finish the sentence before Striker took his phone off him.

To be honest, I don't think the outcome itself would have been much different. I don't think Blitzø would've done a better job at saving Stolas, but, maybe, only maybe, he would've felt better because he was, at least, there for him.

Because you know that shit is going to haunt him till the day he dies. Because it only reassured him that he isn't capable of sticking around for his people.

Because, you know... happened once already.

No wonder he left Stolas's message on "read". Knowing all things before and after, it's not a surprise that he, tending to take all of responsibility for all the wrongs on himself more than he should to, couldn't face the consequence of what he thinks he failed in. He, speaking figuratively, left Fizz on "read" for 15 years, and he kinda sorted it out only because he couldn't run anymore and had to face the trauma as circumstances didn't give him a chance to chicken out.

I wonder what he was trying to tell Stolas. But I don't think we will ever get to learn that.

Aw, crap, I am done here, I am going to go and cry for a little bit. Thanks for coming to my ted talk, see ya in like 5 minutes to experience some Full Moon trauma again, because I can't get over these two. XD

[anonymouscheeses]

CRACKSHIP JUST DROPPED!! GUYSSS HEAR ME OUUUTTT‼️ they would be sooo cute and I love them soo much already!! 😭😭 Gummigoo x Pomni x Striker has my heart snd I want people to be invested too cuz I'm a little bit in love...

They love to tease eachother and kiss excessively in the morning. They are dating guys it's canon I swear‼️ Question you may be asking, why Striker of all the characters not in TADC?? Immediately when I saw Gummigoo, his western accent, his cowboy hat, the vibes, I Immediately thought of Striker and since I have one half of a braincell I was like "what if they kissed.... maybe even held hands...!!" But then later I fell in love with FunnyGummy and couldn't let it go. So. THEY ARE POLYAMOROUS AND WILL GET MARRIED I SWEAR 🗣🔥

Headcanons and art dump below cut ;3 vvvv

THE COWBOYS!! Striker is very flirty and takes the initiative because Gummi is a bit introverted. He likes to dance all the time with anybody but he likes it slow when he's with his partners :>

SHARE ONE BRAINCELL. Pomni is his therapist no questions asked. She's the reason he found out he's asexual. Idk I think they help eachother figure things out and he's soft for her like idk... a big teddy bear or somthn 🥹

DEPRESSED BUDDIES. They have a LOT of angst in their relationship which is good for them because they need emotional healing from the entire... simulation thing. My babiess

Also here's a thing so you can get their relationship a bit more :3

[thewritingofamadwoman]

That’s My Girl

Another attempt at writing Roy Kent. Inspired by the amazingly sweet @onceuponaoneshotfanfic

Pairing: Roy Kent x Fem!Reader (established relationship)

Warnings: Tons of fluff, more of Roy Kent’s potty mouth, a secret relationship and Jamie Tartt being the reader and Roy’s unofficial child.

Enjoy!!

The second the words “no curfew tonight” came out of Ted Lasso’s mouth, you just knew the evening was going to be a fun one. Both you and Roy had agreed on the way to Amsterdam that you’d both spend the last night together, sightseeing and then staying in bed for hours while everyone else was none the wiser.

As the team’s co-pr manager, it was imperative that you tagged along on the trip for business reasons; Rebecca also told you if you didn’t come along and enjoy yourself she’d purposely make your life hell. So here you are, on the charter bus with the rest of your friends. You looked down at your phone, the time reading 5pm. Roy suggested meeting up at around 9pm, when everyone else was surely going to be in their rooms. It was the perfect plan…which meant it probably wasn’t going to happen.

You looked over at Roy, who gave you a sly wink before getting up and roaring at Jamie Tartt.

“Not for you Tartt!”

Your beloved got up and grabbed Jamie’s bag, tossing it to Will before storming outside. Jamie, depressed that he’d be spending the rest of his time in Amsterdam training, got up from his seat reluctantly. Before heading out, he stretched and looked back, noticing you seated in the back. As if having a moment of clarity, his brain immediately came up with what he thought was an ingenious plan. He called your name and once you looked up at him, he put his plan into action.

“Hey love, do you have any plans right now?” He smiled, everyone else on the bus discussing their potential curfew free plans.

“Not really, I was gonna head back to my room and nap for a bit I guess. Why?”

Jamie’s smile widened.

“Nahhh a gorgeous girl like you alone in a hotel room? Not happening. Come on, hang out with me and grandad for a bit.”

You laughed, and so did some of the players listening in.

“Fuck it, why not?” You said, and the bus is filled with loud cheers once more as you made your way towards Jamie, who took your hand and pulled you out of the bus with him. The first thing you saw was Roy’s back to the bus as he stretched his legs.

“Took you fucking long enou-what are you doing here?” Roy asked, his face full of genuine surprise. You shrugged and pointed to Jamie who smiled like the cat who caught the canary.

“This stunner was going to go back to the hotel alone and take a nap. In one of the worlds’ most beautiful cities. I couldn’t let that happen. And who better to keep her company than us fine, young gentleman. Well, some of us more young than others, isn’t that right grandad?”

Roy gave Jamie a deadpan expression and growled lowly. You shook your head and chuckled.

“I hope that’s alright? You don’t mind do you, Roy?” You gave the poor man one of your sweetest smiles, one that Roy had fallen in love with over the course of the last few months. Roy sighed and eventually nodded, the thoughts of the night he had planned for the two of you going down the drain. Jamie cheered and punched Roy’s shoulder, jogging backwards with his hands in the air.

“Come on Roy! Lighten up! Here, I’ll run ahead while you two trail behind me. Can’t have gorgeous here run in those heels. Fantastic heels by the way,” Jamie said as he ran his gaze from your heels to your face, winking as he reached your eyes. The striker was doing his absolute best to get Roy to react to him flirting with you. He knew the coach had feelings for you, it was painstakingly obvious. But he doubted the man would ever make a move. So his “genius plan” was to spend the evening turning on the signature Tartt charm as much as he could until Roy had no choice but to confess his love for you. The perfect plan, Jamie thought to himself.

You blushed at the compliment and laughed , shocked that he was flirting so boldly with you in front of your boyfriend. Not that he knew you two were an item, but still. Roy, on the other hand, was glaring so hard at Jamie that it was a surprise the young man hadn’t combusted into flame. Jamie gave you both a very cheeky smile, turned around, and began to run.

“Come on, grandad! Keep up!”

Roy growled and you laughed once more, causing the older man to look at you.

“And what are you laughing at?” Roy grumbled, stuffing his hands in his pockets as you two began to walk, keeping Jamie in your sights as he ran up ahead.

“At how easy it is for Jamie Tartt to get you riled up. He’s only being silly, don’t let it bother you,” you smiled, reaching over and placing a hand on Roy’s arm.

“And besides, we did want to sightsee, and now we get to do that earlier than planned,” you added, looking around at the beautiful city around you. Roy scoffed and looked back at you.

“Yeah, I wanted us to sightsee without Jamie Fucking Tartt running around like a child we need to keep on a leash.” You giggled and Roy’s lip ticked upwards, the sound of your laugh being one of his favorite things.

“I don’t know babe, this might be a glimpse into our future,” you teased sweetly, looking at Roy playfully. Once again, Roy snorted and turned to look at you.

“Please, our children will be way more behaved than that twat.”

“Oh, so you’ve thought about our future children hmm?” Your heart soared at the thought of Roy seeing a future with you. Roy looked at you dumbfounded, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Of course. Why the fuck wouldn’t I?”

Your heart melted, and you were about to reply when Jamie suddenly appeared from behind the both of you, squeezing himself in between you and wrapping an arm around each of your shoulders.

“Look at you two, looking all chummy. And look at this magnificent city! Have either of you seen the tulip gardens? Or the windmills? We’re actually coming up to the world famous Skinny Bridge, just up ahead. Did you know that it’s one of the most romantic places in the world? Legend says that a kiss between lovers while on this bridge ensures that they will be in love forever. Isn’t that LOVELY, Roy?”

Jamie had pulled you both close to him, and thus each other as he continued to spit fact after fact about the romantic connotations of the bridge. Roy looked murderous, annoyed at Jamie’s incessant chatter. Roy had originally planned to take you to the bridge later that night to share that very same fact. He was a romantic at heart, and you were one of the very few people to know that about the mysterious Roy Kent. He was also a man with a VERY short fuse.

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” he growled, and the striker stepped forward from between the two of you and turned around, running in place while he faced you.

“I think it’s lovely, Jamie,” you said, trying to defuse any tension and placate the young man. Jamie beamed at you.

“I thought you would. I bet even someone as tough and grumpy as Roy believes in true love, don’t you Coach?” Jamie began his jumping jacks while looking at Roy, who only grunted in response. The Mancunian then pulled out his phone and handed it to Roy.

“Come on Coach, take a few pictures of the two of us and I’ll take a few of you two as well!” He said enthusiastically as he grabbed your hand and pulled you along with him towards the bridge. After a few photos with you, Jamie suggested he take a few photos of you alone on the bridge. You agreed, posing and laughing, causing both men to smile as they watched you. Roy even let out a laugh as you posed dramatically on the railing of the bridge. As you continued to look out onto the water, Jamie nudged Roy.

“Look at her, mate. She’s fucking stunning. Do you think she’s seeing anyone? I mean, any man would be a fool not to snatch her up and never let her go. I mean, look at her,” Jamie nodded towards you as you were being approached by another young couple who asked you to take their photo. Roy watched as you smiled politely and took a few pictures of the couple, watching you light up as they loved the pictures and thanked you. Jamie watched Roy’s expression, seeing how the man let down his guard as he looked at you. Jamie nudged him again.

“Go on mate, don’t let someone else come along and steal her away. Don’t let another man have the opportunity to stare at that bum. I mean LOOK at that ass-“ Jamie was cut off from his sweet-turned-idiotic ramble by Roy advancing on him.

“Watch your fucking mouth, Tartt,” but before Roy’s fist could collide with his face, Jamie called your name, catching your attention.

“Would you like some pictures with Coach Kent? I’m sure he’d love to take some with you!”

Jamie watched as Roy glared at him before walking over to you to stand next to you almost begrudgingly.

“What, don’t want to take a picture with me?” You teased him and he gave you a look.

“Don’t start, you know that’s not true.”

“Come on now guys, you’re on a romantic bridge. How about you pretend to, you know, be in love or something. Like a couple. Pose couple-y. Go on.”

You and Roy looked at one another, before you decided to just play along. You stood close to Roy and placed a hand on his chest, stepping closer than you usually would when you weren’t alone together. As if running on autopilot, the second you stood close to him, Roy’s arm snaked around your waist. Jamie whistled and Roy glared even harder than before. You could tell Jamie was starting to get to him.

“Just take the photo please, Jamie.” You pleaded with a small smile. You had a sneaking suspicion that Jamie knew what he was doing but didn’t want to think of that yet, choosing to focus on the smell of Roy’s cologne and the feel of his warmth against you. After a few pictures, Jamie decided to start up on his training again and began skipping forward.

After a few more stops at historic landmarks and a few more ridiculous flirtatious comments and innuendos from Jamie, you paused for a moment of respite by a chip shop. Jamie went in to use the bathroom when you turned to Roy, who was fuming.

“I’m going to fucking kill him. If he talks about windmills ONE more time, I’m going to throw him over the fucking bridge!” You giggled at his anger and tried to soothe him, placing a hand on one of Roy’s arms.

“I don’t know if you can tell, but I’m pretty sure Jamie is either on to us or really wants to play match maker,” you admitted and Roy grunted.

“Yeah I know, he’s a smooth as a bull in a china shop. Phoebe would have been more subtle than him,” You let out a laugh and nodded and Roy continued. “I have half a mind to give in and tell him. But watching him think he’s failing at getting us together truly gives my soul the peace it needs.”

You laughed harder and Jamie finally made his way back with an order of chips in one hand and a tulip in the other. He walked up to you and handed you both.

“Crisp chips and a flower for the lovely lady. Coach maybe you should take notes, this is how you treat a beautiful woman,” Jamie preened and you could see Roy’s resolve begin crumble. Jamie was going to leave Amsterdam with a black eye if he didn’t stop pushing Roy’s buttons. You decided you had enough and made your move.

“I don’t think Roy needs any tips on how to treat a woman, Jamie. He makes sure I’m nice and satisfied at least twice every morning before even heading off to work. Now, if you’re done teasing him: yes we’re together, no, no one knows except for you and we’d like to keep it that way please, and thank you for the chips. Shall we continue?”

You didn’t wait for Jamie or Roy to reply before stepping forward and making your way down the cobblestone street, popping a warm chip into your mouth and twirling the tulip in your hand. Roy’s eyes followed you, full of pride and love, impressed at how you handled the situation. Jamie, however, looked like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing before finding words.

“You fucking cunts, you’ve been together this entire time?? For how long?? I’ve been trying to get you to admit you like her for HOURS!”

Roy gave a smug, satisfied smile.

“Not that it’s any of your fucking business, but today marks six months. And I had fucking dinner plans tonight but you and your fucking windmills ruined it.”

Jamie was still gaping, staring back and forth between your retreating figure and Roy’s smug face.

“Six fucking months?! Roy Kent, you absolute legend. She’s wonderful, I’m happy for you Coach.”

Roy smiled and for a split second, he could see himself becoming closer friends with the team striker.

“Oi!”

Your voice brought both Jamie and Roy’s attention back to you.

“Are you two coming or not? I was promised windmills and I want to see windmills!”

You smiled at your boys, one hand holding your flower and chips and the other hand on your hip as you waited for them to come to you.

“That’s your girl, mate.” Jamie teased as he looked at the taller man. Roy smirked, a genuine smile before nodding his head.

“That’s my girl.”

And with that, both men caught up with you. You passed the chips to Jamie before hooking your arm with Roy’s, the three of you making your way to wherever the windmill hunt took you.

[katelynnwrites]

I'll Love You ('Til The Day That I Die) | Laura Freigang

warnings: not proofread in the slightest

word count: 1430

summary: oranges play a very special part in your relationship with laura

a/n: struggled to complete this so badly so i apologise if this isn't as good as it could be...also here's a moodboard

There’s a little tattoo on your arm, of an orange slice.

Really, it is such a curious thing that everyone you meet seems to ask you about it. You’ve lost count of the number of times you glance at it and smile before answering, ‘It’s for Laura.’

Laura who is your girlfriend and has been since she initially shared an orange with you. It was why she even shared the fruit with you in the first place.

The blonde had been your best friend long before the both of you made the decision to see where your mutual feelings of wanting more than friendship would lead.

Oranges are her favourite fruit and as she lays with her head in your lap, she peels the one she had been carrying in her bag.

Very carefully, she sections it perfectly in half and holds it out.

‘For you. I hope that you’ll always be the person I share my orange with.’

You take it gently, the look on your face being nothing short of complete adoration and whisper, ‘Danke.’

Then you kiss her for the first time and she tastes like oranges.

It’s how it goes for a while, Laura giving you half of her favourite fruit and you thanking her with a kiss.

Between all that, you go on dates together, learn that the feel of the striker’s hand in yours is quickly becoming one of your favourite things and fall quicker and harder for your girlfriend than you ever thought possible.

The latter is particularly on your mind as Laura once again peels an orange and holds it out to you.

Your heart skips a beat just as it does every time she does so and you softly say, ‘Thank you schatz.’

Leaning in, you press a kiss onto your girlfriend’s cheek and then her lips, leaving her blushing a pretty shade of pink when you pull back.

She looks so cute and you just have so many emotions for her.

The strongest of which is what compels you to take a piece of orange peel that the blonde has discarded.

‘What are you doing?’ Laura murmurs.

You simply give her another kiss that means be patient and she gives an adorable huff as she does so.

The forward’s Penn State dorm room has a desk and you go over to it and take the pair of scissors she has there and cut away at it until you’re satisfied.

Turning back to your girlfriend, you carefully hold it out to her, ‘For you. In return for all the oranges you have shared with me.’

Laura takes the tiny orange peel heart you have made and she knows immediately that the smile her brother teases her so often about, is on her face. The one that she apparently only reserves for you.

‘Thank you.’ She starts but you add something else that has her breath hitching.

‘And for everything else. I love you Lau.’

Your girlfriend exhales slowly, carefully tucking your orange peel heart into the pocket of her sweatpants before she gently cradles your face in her hands.

‘I love you too. So much.’ She whispers and doesn’t let you react at all before letting her lips meet yours in the sweetest kiss of your life.

The blonde takes her time, savouring the way this kiss means so much more than all the other kisses you have ever shared together.

It tastes of oranges and promises of a future together.

Oranges are a constant in your relationship, with your favourite person peeling them and sharing it with you, even when the two of you move to Frankfurt.

No one else is allowed this privilege and once the rest of your Eintracht Frankfurt teammates get wind of it, tease Laura relentlessly by asking her to share her orange whenever they see her peeling one.

‘Not even one slice?’ Gery often says.

Each time, the blonde does not deign to answer, choosing to pass you your half and shoot the Swiss woman a dirty look instead.

Sometimes you grin mischievously at the German woman and pretend to share your half.

‘No. No. That’s for you. Just you.’ Laura would insist.

Soft giggles would escape you as you look at how wide and pleading your girlfriend’s pretty eyes would get.

‘Don’t worry schatz. I’m only kidding.’ You’d murmur against her lips.

It’s easy after that for your girlfriend to blush and huff, ‘I knew that.’

Despite how easy it is to rile the blonde up, she’s completely sure in the knowledge that you love her more than anything.

You had never let her doubt it, especially once you got your orange slice tattoo.

Laura had worried over it far more than you had. All you were thinking about was where you would want it done while your girlfriend had agonised over everything else.

‘What if you decide you hate it?’ She anxiously asks.

‘I won’t.’ You promise.

‘What if it gets infected?’ The striker even more anxiously asks.

You glance at the various tattoos she’s sporting on her own arms and raise an eyebrow.

Laura relents at that but to make her feel better all the same, you tell her, ‘I’ll take good care of it and follow all the aftercare steps. You can help me if you’d like?’

The German woman bites her lip and quietly murmurs, ‘What if we break up? Not that I want to but what if you do and you have an orange slice tattoo on your body forever?’

‘Schatz…’

You take her hands in yours and ask, ‘Do you think you and I will stop loving each other tomorrow?’

Your girlfriend gasps, ‘Not a chance!’

‘Okay good, do you think that we will stop loving each other next week?’

The blonde tries but fails not to look horrified and you take that as her answer, with a faint chuckle.

‘Do you think we will stop loving each other next month?’

Laura’s expression only grows more alarmed and it is unmistakable in her voice, ‘No. There is no possible way that I will stop loving you then.’

With a gentle squeeze to your favourite forward’s hand, you say, ‘Okay. What about in a year’s time? Will we stop loving each other then?’

The German woman shakes her head, her previous emotions changing to determination.

‘Not if I have anything to say about it. I love you. I will love you tomorrow and next week and next month and next year and even for years after that. I’m going to love you forever because you’re the love of my life.’

Laura’s completely out of breath by the end of it, her cheeks have turned an adorable shade of red.

You kiss her as ardently as you can before murmuring, ‘And that’s exactly how I feel about you schatz so I know I won’t regret it.’

The blonde wraps her arms around you tightly, burying her face into your hair so her voice is muffled when she says, ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too. That’s why I’m going to get a permanent reminder of it on my arm. So that everyone can see it.’

Laura makes a little touched noise, squeezing you against her harder.

Warmth bubbles up in your chest as she does so, the same kind of warmth that continues to form weeks and even years after your tattoo has healed.

It comes whenever you get to talk about your tattoo.

And one night, after Laura’s finally proposed to you, you reveal another reason why you got the tattoo when you happen to glance at her bedside table.

There is a small glass jar that sits there, containing all the orange peel hearts you have ever given her.

Since the first time you told her you love her, you have always given her one in return, whenever she shares half of an orange with you.

Years have passed since that night and the blonde’s collection of dried orange peel hearts has grown. She has kept each and every one of them, enough so that her jar is almost full.

Looking back at the German striker, you snuggle closer to her and admit that you got your tattoo on a prominent place on your arm, just so that people would ask and you would be able to talk about it.

Talk about why you got it, how much you love Laura and how much she loves you.

Your love story is your favourite thing to talk about and your little orange slice tattoo gives you a reason to.

German Translations:

danke - thank you

schatz - sweetheart

[barcaatthemoon]

tease || jenni hermoso x reader ||

jenni likes to tease.

minors dni, 18+, smut ahead.

jenni knew that she was always in your line of sight. it didn't matter what you were doing, you always kept an eye on her. you don't really remember when it started, sometime during yor stint in spain. you knew that your team wouldn't beat barcelona, but you made sure that their star striker remembered your name by the end of that game. years later, and the two of you were living in mexico and playing on the same team together.

"lo siento, yo soy muy cansado," you apologized to the reporter. you were supposed to give an interview about the game, but you couldn't focus with jenni flaunting herself 15 feet away from you. you were excused from the interview after that, and almost immediately, you found yourself pulling jenni towards the locker room.

"where's the fire, mi amor?" jenni asked with a chuckle. you turned and glared at her, something that never really worked how you wanted it to. jenni looked at you sometimes the same way that she looked at andy. everything she did for you was purely out of love, not because she feared any sort of consquences.

"you're lucky you're hot," you told her. those seemed to absolutely be the wrong words as jenni pushed the bottom of her shirt up to expose her abs. your eyes shot down to the expose skin for just a second, but it was enough for jenni to notice.

"enjoying the view?" jenni teased. you huffed and grumbled as you stormed into the showers. jenni followed you in, glad that nobody else was in the showers for the time being. "i am definitely enjoying my view."

"jenni!" you jumped at the sound of her voice. jenni just laughed as she pulled you into her arms. you tried to glance over her shoulder, but jenni just turned you around to face her.

"this view is even better." the way that jenni looked at you was nothing short of predatory. she stepped further into your space, forcing you to back up against the shower wall.

"jenni, we don't have time for this," you warned her.

"yes we do. you just have to focus," jenni said. despite her words, she still waited until you pushed her down onto her knees. you hooked a leg over the back of her neck, forcing her to stay right up against you.

your head spun with pleasure as jenni's mouth began its attack on your cunt. jenni's tongue swiped against your entrance, and the vibrations from jenni's moans made your stomach drop a little. jenni knew exactly what she was doing, each exaggerated movement and dramatic moan at the taste of you on her tongue. jenni was continuing to rile you up, just wanting to see how wet she could make you.

"jenni, i need more," you told her. jenni just hummed as she pushed a finger inside of you. it wasn't nearly enough to satisfy, but you knew that if you pushed, jenni would only pull back. she was teasing you now, solely to see how easily she could make you cum. she was trying without really trying, and your heart began to race as you thought about the possibility of having to go on with your day without cumming.

just as jenni was about to add another finger, you heard the door swing open. without hesitation, jenni ducked out from beneath your leg and moved to her own shower stall. you flicked the water from hot to cold in a vain attempt to distract yourself from your own arousal. jenni was out of the showers before you, and if anybody on the team noticed your glaring, they all pretended not to.

"what is wrong, mi amor?" jenni asked. you rushed to pack up your things and get on the bus. you sat there with your headphones on, hopeful that jenni would pick somewhere else to sit for the ride. jenni very deliberately sought you out, and you could tell from the devious look on her face that you were absolutely in for it on the way back.

[wosoimagines]

Alone - Arsenal W.F.C./Reader

prompt: R, one of the newest signings, is going to be alone for the holidays.

warnings: none

words: 2313

(Y/N) POV

I tried not to pay attention as the rest of the team discussed their own holiday plans. I really did try to make sure that it didn’t get to me. I hadn’t celebrated any holidays in such a long time that it normally didn’t faze me.

Maybe it was because I was already starting to see the rest of the team as my own family. Or because I had grown so used to seeing some of my teammates every day and I knew that I wouldn’t get to see any of them during the holidays like I currently was able to.

“What about you, Yankee?”

I scowled at the nickname as I sent Katie a glare. It didn’t even make sense considering I wasn’t a Yankee fan or from the North.

“Thought I told you not to call me that.”

“Oh, come on, Yankee Doodle!”

Before I could say anything else, I felt someone nudge my shoulder.

“What are you doing for next week?” Lotte asked. I furrowed my brow because I wasn't entirely sure what she meant. “Don’t we have a game on Thanksgiving? I’m sure the team’s granted you a leave to go spend it with your family.”

“Why would they do that?” I asked.

It wouldn’t have made sense for the team to give me leave, especially when I didn’t ask for one.

“Next week would be when fall break is,” Alessia pointed out causing me to turn my head to where the blonde striker was sitting. I had honestly forgotten that Alessia and Lotte would both know when Thanksgiving was due to their time in America. “Don’t you want to go home and spend Thanksgiving with your parents?”

I only gave a small shrug. I’d much rather play on Thanksgiving Day than spend it with my family. I especially didn’t want to be ignored on a day that was supposed be enjoyed with your family.

“You don’t want to see your family?” Kyra asked as she tilted her head to the side. “I thought that was like the whole point of Thanksgiving?”

“Yeah, well, it’s not that fun when you’re the one who has to cook everything and then everyone wants to complain about it all being made wrong,” I said as I turned away from the team so that I could put my shoes up. “Even better is when everyone ignores you if they’re not complaining about your cooking.”

“(Y/N)…”

“Real great considering that last year I tried to tell everyone that I was gonna accept a scholarship to play with UNC only for everyone to ignore me and tell me to shut up,” I continued as if I hadn’t heard Beth. “Then turn around after everyone leaves and your parents explode on you telling you there’s no way you can go to college because you’re supposed to turn pro so that you can pay them back for everything they did to make sure you succeeded as if I didn’t have to fight them tooth and nail to get them to support me.”

“You were going to be a Tar Heel?”

My eyes met Alessia’s before I nodded.

Where I was looking at going to college had been heavily debated with my own national team. Everyone had their own opinions of where I should go except for Lindsey and Mal since they both had skipped college to turn pro immediately out of high school. But that wasn’t what I had wanted. I wanted to go to college so that I could get my degree because I knew that I wouldn’t be playing forever.

Thankfully, Arsenal had offered to support me through my studies. It wasn’t exactly what I had wanted, but it did give me the ability to get away from my family.

Still, I was upset that I hadn’t been able to go to the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill like I had dreamed of. UNC had been my favorite college ever since I had discovered who Tobin Heath was and I had wanted to follow in her footsteps as well. So much so that I had even reached out to her when I joined the national team to make sure that she was okay with me wearing the number seventeen like she did.

“Hey, (Y/N), you know you can talk to us about anything that’s going on, right?” Viv started to say as she moved closer to me. “You don’t have to shut –“

“What I would like is for you all to drop it. I’m a big girl. I don’t need any of you to coddle me like I’m some child.”

I pushed past Viv as I headed out of the locker room. I knew it was harsh and that I’d have to apologize later, but I just didn’t want to deal with it right now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m sorry.”

Viv looked over her shoulder at me. I had been avoiding her since we got into it late last week. It hadn’t been too hard to avoid the Dutch striker since she gave me my space.

“You were just trying to help me, and I was a bitch.”

“We shouldn’t have tried pushing you so hard.” Viv shrugged before turning around to actually face me rather than just look over her shoulder at me. “We aren’t trying to coddle you. But it’s hard being your age and being away from the only support system you’ve ever known. We just want to make sure that you know we’re all here for you.”

“I really do appreciate it,” I admitted. Viv sent me a soft smile. “I guess it’s just weird since I’ve never had a support system. My parents got me into soccer to keep me busy after school ended so that they didn’t have to pick me up as early in the afternoon. And it wasn’t like either of them were actually happy to make sure that I did as good as I could with soccer until I got called up to the national team.”

“First off, it’s football. That’s the first thing we’re going to have to fix,” Viv corrected causing me to let out a laugh. It had been an argument we often had during training as I had yet to start calling it anything other than soccer. “Second off, I’m always going to be here for you. It won’t ever matter if you leave Arsenal or if I do. I’ll always have your back. Got it?”

“Got it,” I saluted Viv, “Dad.”

Viv rolled her eyes at that. I had been hanging around Laura lately.

“And third off, you stop hanging around Laura so much.”

“Oh, come on,” I said as I followed behind Viv as we both moved to get back into the line that was warming up. “You and Beth are totally parents to Laura now. And you’re definitely the dad.”

“How do you figure that?”

“You just have Dad Vibes.”

I wasn’t sure how to explain it, but Viv really did have all the Dad Vibes. It just made sense once you hung around Beth and Viv long enough.

“So, are you coming tomorrow?”

I furrowed my brow as Beth joined the two of us. I wasn’t sure what she was talking about.

“I hadn’t asked yet.”

My eyes darted between Viv and Beth. I wasn’t sure what either of them were talking about.

“If you really want to make it up to me,” Viv started as Beth grinned at me, “you’ll come over tomorrow for lunch.”

“For lunch?”

“Yeah, for lunch.”

I shrugged at that. I didn’t really have any plans for tomorrow, but I wasn’t sure that I would actually want to do something. Especially with it being so close to Thanksgiving.

“I don’t know.”

“None of that,” Viv said as she shook her head. I sighed as my shoulders slumped forward. There was no way that I was going to get out of this. “Lunch tomorrow at mine and Beth’s.”

“Fine. Lunch at your place tomorrow.”

Beth grinned before she ruffled my hair and took off to join some of the others. Viv only smiled as she threw an arm around my shoulder and pulled me along the line we were in.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Has Viv started to Dad you yet?” Laura asked as she took a seat next to me on the couch. Both of us looked over to where Viv was cooking in the kitchen with Beth watching. “Or has Beth been able to Mom you yet?”

“They keep trying,” I admitted. Neither Viv or Beth would let me help them cook. Viv wasn’t even letting Beth help. “Beth asked me today if I was eating enough.”

“Yeah, they’ll grow on you.”

The two of us fell into silence as we turned our attention back to the game that was playing on the tv.

“What are they even cooking?” I asked causing Laura to look at me. “They wouldn’t tell me, and Viv has forbidden me from going into the kitchen.”

“I’ve been sworn to secrecy,” Laura said before she pretended to zip her mouth shut. I frowned as I gave her a shove. “Mom! (Y/N)’s being mean to me.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Can we put them up for adoption?”

Both Laura and I whipped our heads around to look at Beth as we cried out in complaint. Beth only stuck her tongue out at us as we both grumbled. Neither of us had any real time to respond though as there was a knock at the door.

I furrowed my brow at that. Laura being here wasn’t too surprising considering that Viv and Beth had taken young defender in when she tore her ACL. But no one had told me that others would be coming over.

“Get the door?”

“Why me? You’re their kid.”

“You are too! And you’re not injured.”

I rolled my eyes at that. I was hardly Viv and Beth’s kid. I couldn’t wait for Laura to get back to training with the rest of this so that she wouldn’t be able to use her injury as an excuse. I got up though and got the door.

“Happy Thanksgiving,” Alessia said as soon as I opened the door. I tilted my head in confusion at that. Thanksgiving had definitely been yesterday, but I also had no idea why she was here. “The others aren’t that far behind me.”

I hadn’t even realized that it seemed like the rest of the team was either behind Alessia or getting out of their own cars or pulling down the road. Alessia pushed past me as she ruffled my hair. It wasn’t until a few more of our teammates made their way inside that I finally left where I was standing at the door to move further inside.

“What’s going on?”

Viv and Beth grinned at me before Viv bent down to pull something out of the oven.

“Thanksgiving lunch,” Beth announced once I could see the turkey that Viv had pulled from the oven.

I shook my head with a small chuckle, but I moved to help Viv get everything plated up and presented as she pulled a ham out of the oven as well.

“What all did you make?” Katie asked as she was the last one who came inside.

“All of the traditional foods for Thanksgiving,” Viv said as she motioned to everything. “At least according to Google.”

“You did a pretty good job,” I told her as I looked at everything we had out. “Oh! I call dibs on the wishbone!”

“The what?”

“You don’t know what a wishbone is?” I asked as I turned to look at Kyra. She shook her head and I huffed. “Every turkey has a wishbone. We’ll find it when we carve the turkey. Once the meal is done, two of us will make a wish and we’ll break the wishbone. Whoever has the bigger piece will have their wish come true and good luck for the next year.”

“And how many of your wishes have ever come true?” Kyra asked as she nudged my shoulder before she reached and tried to steal some of the stuffing only for Viv to slap her hand away.

“I’ve never gotten to break the wishbone before,” I admitted. It was usually my cousins who got to break the wishbone.

“Can I break it with (Y/N) since Dad cooked?” Laura asked.

“Stop calling me that.”

“Yeah, whatever, Dad.”

I snorted at Viv’s scowl. My attention was drawn away as I was quick to catch the football that had been tossed my way.

“Hey! Not near the food!”

Viv’s scowl had turned from Laura to Lotte who was guilty of tossing the football.

“You brought a football?” I asked her.

Lotte shrugged as she threw an arm around Alessia’s shoulders. I knew that they were both probably the most familiar with Thanksgiving and the traditions we had with the holiday since they were the two who had actually gone to college in the States.

“Figured you could show us how to throw it since the big football game was on yesterday,” Lotte explained.

“And then we can make plans for Christmas,” Alessia added. I furrowed my brow at that. I knew that we would be having some kind of party for the team, but we still had time to plan it. “Cause Mum already told me that I have to bring you with me.”

“Wait, what?”

“Well, I was telling Mum how you weren’t going to spend the holidays with your family cause they were assholes and she told me that I have to bring you,” Alessia explained. Alessia’s mom wanted me to join them for Christmas. “And before you try to say no, Mum has already told me that you are not weaseling your way out of it. So, you will be coming to the Russo Family Christmas.”

[dreamermonica]

jersey no. 10s + would love me if i was a worm ?

—gender neutral reader, established relationships, fluff, some crack, just silly banters with them, lots of teasing from reader, and kaiser ig on his part🪰

RIN side-eyes you. it's in the middle of a horror movie marathon when you ask him that question, effectively pulling him out of his focus on the show as he attempts to process your strange inquiry.

it's obvious from the way that he doesn't immediately call your question dumb or stupid that he's already used to these type of conversations. a perk of being surrounded by weirdos perhaps? anyway, it still doesn't refrain him from raising a brow at the abruptness of your out-of-the-blue query.

within a short moment of contemplation, he blinks away from your expectant expression back to the screen. you visibly deflate at his nonchalance.

“no.” bluntly does he say. you blink.

“so you don't love me for me?”

“i simply don't see myself loving a worm. it doesn't matter if it's you or not.”

he deliberately ignores the piercing and offended stare on the side of his face.

“so unfair! i would love you if you were a worm!” you whine as you shake his arm.

“doubt it.” he leans back further onto the couch to eye you again from his periphery, momentarily pausing the movie to apprehend your whining. “if i were ever to become a worm, I'd kill myself. i can't become the world's best striker with no limbs.”

“still thinking about football 'till now? jackass.” you playfully pout before turning back to the screen again. he quietly resumes the movie with a thoughtful nod. as a jumpscare comes up and you huddle to his side in surprise, you think the discussion is dropped entirely until he speaks up once more.

“there's that and,”

he suddenly leans close to your ear, arm skillfully placed on the backrest of the couch to wrap you in, your eyes widening when you feel his breath fanning on the side of your face.

it's barely above a whisper when he says it,

“—the fact i wouldn't be able to spend nights like these with you.”

...huh?

oh my. you must've been hearing things—because the next thing you know is that a pillow is roughly thrown onto your face.

SAE resolves the weird question with a playful pinch to your cheeks. he deals with enough dumbassery (shidou) already to even think of entertaining your question, but god, your squished face and cheeks look really adorable right now, so he'll humor you for a bit.

“ow, ow, ow...”

“maybe. maybe not.” his stare remains blank and bored as your face scrunches in pain with the faint stinging on your cheek. upon seeing your discomfort, he immediately drops his hands, stuffing them in his pockets, “depends if we're both worms or not.”

humming as you soothingly rub your cheeks mindlessly, you stick out a tongue at him. “how about only me as a worm with my face on it?”

he glowers at the thought, “creepy. don't push it.”

“then me as a normal worm...?”

“i'd feed you to shidou. he'd treat you well.”

you sigh depressingly at the thought of swimming in that soccer demon's stomach acid. “no getting through you, huh. would it kill you to be sappy for once...?”

“if we were both worms, then yes, i'd love you. happy now?”

“hooray!”

he deliberately pushes your face away from his line of sight, scowling as you try to kiss him with your lips exaggeratedly puckered much to his dismay, “who the hell cheers like that? weirdo.”

“your weirdo.”

you send him a wink, a half-assed attempt at rizzing him up and yet he thought he’d explode right then and there. his expression stays indifferent though. no way he’s exposing himself like that.

“yeah. only mine.” the taste of victory is sweet on his tongue as he watches you turn red at his words.

KAISER...oh, kaiser.

in his case, it's the other way around.

you are the one getting pestered to answer his strange question instead. courtesy of his greed for your attention. gotta thank the heavens above when you decide to entertain his antics instead of strangling him.

“what brought this question forth?” you stare at him in boredom, sinking into the comfy confines of the couch he's leaning over at to smile at you dopily. you resist the urge to kiss his face right then and there.

“nothing~ just trying to see if you're only after my body or not.”

“...but i'm not into worms—”

“it's me! as a worm! the handsome and prodigal michael kaiser!” he pushes, feigning hurt as he dramatically places a hand to his chest. “why are you doubting me? i can't believe my darling out of all people would do this to me.”

you hum for a while as your gaze moves up to the ceiling, paying no mind whatsoever to the sob story he's fabricating to garner your sympathy as well. you press a finger to your lips curiously, “would the worm version of you keep your toned body and beautiful golden hair?”

“uh...good question—wait, you are after my body!”

“yes. is that a problem?” you can't help the smug look that crosses your face upon seeing kaiser's offended reaction, to which immediately turns into a scowl as he leans closer towards your face.

“what,” your hand raises to graze against his cheek, trailing down to his neck as you caress his iconic blue rose tattoo. “can't take a little joke, mihya?”

he stiffens at your touch, eyes widening for a moment, before he ultimately resigns himself to a heavy sigh of defeat, maneuvering his hand to grasp your wandering fingers over his collarbone, stopping your advances as he pouts playfully.

“this is why i like my side chicks better.”

“hah? repeat that again you little—”

“can't take a little joke, mein liebling?”

taken aback, you glare at him. he winks back.

forcibly given a taste of your own medicine, you huff outwardly and opt to push his stupidly handsome face away from your sight before it angers you any further. a sense of clarity already being gained when he is no longer is in your peripherals.

“go talk to them if they're so much better than me then.”

“oh, cmon.”

this was collecting dust for months in my drafts take it as u may , i might be more active soon✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

[adascore]

The Golden War

pairings: alexia putellas x lyonnais!reader

warnings: swearing. for culers the ‘22 uwcl final ig. jona is kinda mean in this.

author’s note: this is the same reader from my ‘one for the money, two for the show’ fic of the lionesses!captain. reader is basically ada hegerberg lolsies :) will be turned into a series.

masterlist

•••••

Turin, Italy - May, 2022

''The final has been dubbed as a duel between you and Alexia Putellas, do you experience it as that?''

The Lyon captain fought the urge to roll her eyes at the question, despite having expected it. ''It is a final between Barcelona and Lyon, nothing more than that.'' She answered, diplomatically- the way they had rehearsed it.

''Lyon is the underdog coming into this final- FC Barcelona has been unbeatable so far. What do you need to do in order to beat them tomorrow?'' Another reporter asked, a pen ready in his hand to take notes.

There was a slight change in her expression as the question left his lips, the man succeeding in poking through her stoic expression. ''Well, we have never lost to Barcelona- I don't know if you remember 3 years ago or even last year,''

Lyon had comfortably beaten the Spanish club in 2019. In that Champions League Final, Y/N had become the first player to score a hattrick in a UWCL final. Their last meeting had been in 2021, in the pre-season, where Lyon had won 3-2, the Lyon captain again putting one in the net.

''We have won this competition many times. There was football before Barcelona, and it was being played by us.''

Her last sentence of the quote had struck a nerve with the Barça captain.

''She acts like she has already won the whole thing.'' Alexia remarked as she read a transcript of the press conference.

Patri and Mapi glanced at one another, a knowing look in their eyes. ''Technically, there is nothing wrong about what she said, Ale. How many times has she won this competition now? 6? 7?'' The defender said, not having a problem with the opposition's words.

''She's just pissed that everyone is talking about us now.'' She ignored Mapi, continuing berating her opponent.

The rivalry between the captains of the two top teams had been something made up by the media, seeking a female counterpart to the famed Ronaldo-Messi rivalry. Both Alexia and Y/N led Europe's premier clubs, won the Champions League, captained their national teams, and earned the Ballon d'Or. This fueled incessant comparisons.

Alexia and Y/N hadn't given it much thought at first. There were also many differences between them; Alexia is a midfielder, while Y/N is a striker. Despite their similar ages, their careers took diverse paths. Alexia remained in the Spanish league, while Y/N gained experience across various countries.

Over time, an unexpected shift occurred. They began caring about each other's achievements. Yet, they knew the comparison wasn't fair.

Despite being younger, Y/N dominated women's football for longer, winning the Champions League seven times – twice with Wolfsburg and five times with Lyon. In contrast, Alexia secured one with Barcelona. Neither had won anything major with their national teams, though she had come close with England a few times. Furthermore, on the accolades side of things, Y/N led with a repertoire that most players could only dream of.

For a long time, it hadn't bothered Alexia. She had watched in admiration as the younger player became the first recipient of the Ballon d'Or, a huge step in women's football. Y/N's advocacy for the sport also didn't escape the Spanish player.

However, her admiration had turned into envy.

The turning point came in the 2019 final against Lyon. She had observed the way the English striker had celebrated with her entire team- how the Lyon squad immediately ran to her once the whistle blew and how Y/N bathed in all the (rightly deserved) glory. Alexia wanted that for herself. For years, Y/N had been the nail in Barcelona's coffin, scoring the goals that made sure they couldn't continue in the competition- in the captain's opinion, the striker had made a joke of her team for years, even if she didn't meant to do that.

Their interactions over the years were limited to polite handshakes before or after matches. Occasional encounters outside the pitch were rare and brief, seldom extending beyond a few sentences.

Alexia's surprise peaked when Y/N congratulated her on winning the Ballon d'Or through both private and public Instagram messages. Despite her reservations about comparisons and rivalry, receiving praise from someone she admired as one of the best in the game left Alexia with a positive feeling.

''No, I think she's just not a fan of being referred to as an underdog.'' Patri defended the Lyon striker.

This explanation didn't sit well with Alexia, evident from the displeasure on her face. ''Whatever,'' she retorted, looking forward to settling matters on the field that Saturday.

Saturday, May 21, 2022

Excitement, adrenaline, nerves, and tension permeated the tunnel of Juventus Stadium as Alexia, tightly gripping her pennant, stood at the front of her lined-up team, awaiting the opposing captain.

The sudden hush among the Barcelona team signaled the arrival of their counterpart. Turning around, Alexia frowned at her teammates' fascination with the approaching striker.

This is not the time to be fangirling, she thought to herself, as she saw most of her players' eyes following the striker's figure.

As the two top players faced each other, uncertainty lingered about whether they should exchange greetings. Y/N broke the silence, deciding to offer some acknowledgment. ''Hey, you alright?'' Her charming English accent filled the air.

''Yeah, and you?'' Alexia almost cringed at her own quick response, not giving her brain time to think.

''I‘ll see in about 90 minutes.'' The younger one grinned.

I'll wipe that smirk off your fucking face, Alexia said in her mind, not a fan of the confidence the striker was oozing.

Ten minutes later, the referee blew the whistle, signaling the start of the highly-anticipated final.

Lyon applied intense pressure right from the start, managing to create two goal-scoring opportunities within the first three minutes of the match.

However, the audience were offered their first initial glimpse of the rivalry in the 6th minute of the game.

Y/N positioned herself strategically, eyes fixed on her teammate readying a precise pass to her. The ball zipped across the pitch, and in a heartbeat, both Y/N and Alexia were locked onto winning it for themselves.

The striker, a master of timing, surged forward. Simultaneously, the midfielder closed in on the target. The collision was inevitable.

Both players fell with a thud, groaning at the contact with the ground. Despite the force of the clash, they both showed resilience as they wanted to use the momentum to their advantage.

They were momentarily entangled, fighting for control of the ball. It was a brief display of the rivalry that had brewed between them.

Y/N rose swiftly from the turf, eyes filled with determination. The collision had only fueled her competitive fire. With the ball firmly at her feet, she accelerated away from the mess, leaving Alexia behind.

The crowd erupted in gasps and cheers as Y/N, now in open space, scanned the field. Seizing the opportunity, she unleashed a powerful strike from well outside the box.

Time seemed to slow as the ball sailed towards the goal. Panos's desperate dive was in vain as the ball found the back of the net. The roar of the crowd echoed through the stadium, a symphony of cheers and applause for a goal that showcased the skills and spirit of the Lyon captain.

A fleeting scowl crossed Alexia's face, frustrated at the missed opportunity.

Y/N turned on her heels as the net rippled, ready to embrace her teammates who were rushing to her.

''Vamos!'' She roared, the Spanish word escaping her lips like a battle cry.

Yet, she found herself face-to-face not with the familiar sight of Lyon jerseys but with the intensity of Alexia's determined gaze.

Her expression froze for a quick second, confusion adorning her features. Y/N's eyes widened in realization, and for a brief instant, the two captains locked eyes in an unspoken exchange.

The celebration continued around them, teammates engulfing Y/N as they screamed with delight at their captain's prolific opener. The air was filled with jubilation, but within the chaos, the tension lingered between the two captains, adding an intriguing layer to the unfolding drama on the pitch.

The match unfolded further, Barcelona grabbing a few opportunities of their own, but not being clinical enough to score an equalizer. The Spanish squad remained calm, showing no signs of panic in their play, despite being behind.

Selma and Melvine played a great one-two with each other, and the young defender shot a beautiful cross towards the box. Anticipating the trajectory of the ball, Y/N skillfully pulled away from Leon, who undoubtedly had the impossible task of marking the striker.

The ball connected with Y/N's forehead, falling perfectly into the mesh. The scoreboard illuminated with Lyon 2, Barcelona 0. The narrative had shifted as the favorites stomped the ground in frustration, while the ''underdogs'' celebrated another goal from their captain.

The first half flew by. Y/N managed to assist Catarina to make it 3-0, but Alexia found the back of the net to get one back.

3-1.

The second half saw more scoring opportunities for Barcelona, but no one managed to finish the job.

After contact with Martens, Griedge cited experiencing a cramp and asked for treatment- a request that the Barcelona side was not having. Y/N, understanding the frustration of time-wasting, especially when behind in a match, stood aside.

However, the Lyon captain didn't appreciate the scolding she received from the opposition's coach. ''Tell your player to stop the comedy, what a shit job!'' Jonatan exclaimed to the English captain, who observed the scene from the sideline.

Y/N didn't budge, paying him no attention, knowing it was all tactics. She gave an unimpressed look toward the referee, who had been observing the one-sided interaction.

The official ran up to them, pulling a yellow card from her pocket and holding it in front of the manager. ''Step back, please. Don't talk to the opposition.'' she instructed him.

The match eventually resumed. In extra time, Paredes almost managed to pull off a header, but it went flying over the post.

In the last minute of the game, Y/N teamed up with Eugénie to score a last-minute beauty, but the volley slammed against the post.

The piercing sound of the referee's whistle resonated through the stadium, marking the conclusion of the final. Lyon emerged triumphant for a record-extending 8th time.

Overwhelmed by her own emotions, Y/N fell to the ground as the whistle echoed in her ears. It didn't take too long for her teammates to rush up to her, colliding in a chaos of hugs, kisses, and jubilant shouts.

They had done it again, proving once more why all the records were tied to their name.

''Y/N, you're a fucking legend!'' Lindsey yelled in her ear, kissing her cheek multiple times.

As her teammates slowly got up from their celebratory cuddle with the ground, they formed a protective circle around their captain. Hands reached out to help her rise from the grass, and she found herself enveloped in a symphony of gratitude.

Eventually, she shook off her glorious daze, a wide grin etched on her face.

Y/N turned her attention to the defeated Barcelona players, spread out across the field with tears and disappointment staining their cheeks. She approached them, offering a helping hand to those still on the ground and sharing comforting words. Acknowledging the effort they had brought, she assured them that they gave her team a greater fight than the scoreline implied.

Before the Lyon squad embarked on their victory lap to greet the traveling supporters, Y/N's gaze fell on a heartbreaking scene. Across the field, the Spanish captain, Alexia, was cradled in a comforting embrace by a Barcelona staff member as tears streamed down her face.

Y/N hesitated, caught in a ''should I or shouldn't I'' moment with herself.

She chose to make an attempt to resolve whatever tension had built up between them.

Tears glistened on Alexia's cheeks, a testament to the intensity of the match and the dreams left unfulfilled. The Barcelona staff member, offering solace in the face of defeat, glanced up as Y/N approached, and let go of her.

''Alexia,'' Y/N greeted her softly, putting her arm around the Spaniard, ''thank you for the great battle.'' She hadn't prepared what to say, because what do you say against someone you feel like you are supposed to hate? What do you say against someone you've been constantly compared to for over a year?

To the striker's surprise, Alexia reciprocated, feeling an arm on her lower-back. ''Congratulations, you deserved the win. You played phenomenal.'' The midfielder told her, a forced yet genuine small smile making a way onto her face.

''Don't let this hurt you. You are literally one of the best players I have played against- your team is amazing. Use this, like in 2019.'' Y/N advised her, not particularly caring if the opposing player would take it or not.

''We will. I hope we can play many more finals. You make me- you make us grow.'' Alexia stuttered.

Y/N nodded. ''I hope so too. It's been fascinating to see the growth you guys have made these last years.''

The stadium now bore witness to a quieter exchange between the two captains. Almost every camera lens and watchful eye fixated on them.

As Y/N and Alexia exchanged words of mutual respect, their moment of shared understanding was abruptly disrupted by the Barcelona coach.

''Congratulations on the win, Y/N.'' He acknowledged briskly, his gaze quickly turning toward Alexia. His extended hand to her seemed more like a formality, but Y/N accepted it.

Almost forcibly, he placed a hand on Alexia's shoulder, a non-verbal cue that spoke volumes. ''Come on.'' He declared, his tone leaving little room for negotiation and they were off to wherever he needed her to be.

Alexia casted an immediate glance back at Y/N, a mix of emotions played across her face- gratitude for the moment, and frustration at its abrupt end. She hadn't responded to her words yet.

As the Spaniard was led away, Y/N's eyes lingered on the departing figure, a tinge of melancholy in her gaze.

The brief encounter had sparked a momentary connection- a bridge attempting to break through the perceived rivalry and show praise for a strong opponent. However, Jonatan's swift intervention acted like a pair of scissors, cutting through the threads that held that connection.

In Y/N's mind, Alexia had seemed appreciative of the opportunity to have a genuine conversation. She figured there must have been a good reason for her to have been pulled away like that, especially by the head coach.

The Barcelona captain had reacted with a hint of irritation when her coach suggested to the Lyon player to remove her arm from Alexia's shoulder. She tried asking Jonatan why he had coaxed her away, but she didn't receive a proper answer.

The whole thing had left a bitter taste in her mouth. The potential for a more extended, sincere exchange was cut short, leaving Alexia with lingering frustration. There was a desire to understand Y/N beyond the competition, but it was cut short.

She hoped her last glance had worked as a silent acknowledgment of what could have been.

[lust-for-ultraviolence]

Helluva Boss pride picture:

The obnoxious owl strutted about beside his "impish plaything". Blitzø looked in the rear view mirror and said "oh shit, isn't that your bitch-ass fucking ex-wife?". Stolas turned to see that trailing behind the small pride parade was none other than Stella, wrapped in a lesbian flag. Stolas immediately started crying, "why is that meeanie here!?". After everyone consoled Stolas because he's the only one that matters, he approached his ex. Octavia tried to hug her mom, but stolas pushed her away.

"What are you here for? To torture me some more?" asked Stolas, whom was crying yet again. Stella looked at him, bewildered. "Are you serious? You think I'm in a pride parade to bother YOU? I'm here because I'm gay!" She huffed, trying to shove past the self centred cry baby. "Noooo! I'm the gay one! You're a homophobic straight woman" Stolas whined. Stella had had it with this guy. "You think you're the only gay person to be forced into a shitty, empty, straight marriage?? I've had to hide who I am just as much as you have! Where's MY sympathy? Where's MY song?" She shouted. The whole parade was watching in awkward silence.

Octavia succefully re-approached the pair, and hugged Stella tightly. "Oh mum, I'm so sorry. It must be so painful for you. Come up front with me. Let's be proud of who we are together". She said. Stella beamed at her daughter and walked away without another look at stolas. "But lesbians aren't important!" Stolas started crying. Suddenly, right as Stolas was going to break out into a whiny song, he was trampled by a horse. The rider of the horse held a huge nonbinary flag. Blitzø, Moxxie, and Millie gasp as the nonbinary rider is none other than Striker. He slows the horse just for a moment and says, "fuck you all for not including nonbinary people" and rode off into the sunset, the beautiful flag trailing behind him.

Lmao I'm sorry I'm not a writer but I thought this was funny. I also read a post about, like, what if Stella is a lesbian/Sapphic? And I just HAD to make this happen.

[russo-woso]

Dread || Niamh Charles

Summary You and Niamh always dread playing against each other

Red vs Blue.

Rival vs rival.

A London derby.

Arsenal vs Chelsea.

There were loads of nicknames for the match because ultimately, it was one of the most exciting games of the season.

The fans were excited for it, the players were excited for it, but you and a certain Chelsea defender wasn’t.

You dreaded the match, and so did Niamh, if not more.

Niamh was a defender, you were a striker. The thought of Niamh hurting you killed her.

You and Niamh had gone up against each other before, many times, but this time was different.

This was the continental cup final.

Arsenal were determined to keep their hands on the trophy, but Chelsea were just as determined to take it off of them.

When you awoke early on the morning of Easter Sunday, thanks to Niamh pressing soft kisses to your shoulder blade, you couldn’t help but cuddle into her, the dreaded feeling of playing against her sinking into your mind.

After a while of a comfortable silence taking over the room, you pulled away from Niamh, a serious look on your face.

“Promise me that no matter what the score is, we’ll be lying like this tonight.” You said to Niamh whilst a soft smile appeared on her face.

“I promise, love. Remember, Football will always come second when it comes to you.” Niamh told you and you nodded, agreeing with her words.

“You’ll always come first too.” You stated, pressing your lips on hers.

The rest of the morning you had free sped by and before you knew it, you and Niamh’s were going your separate ways.

————————

“Nervous about playing against Niamh?” Beth asked you, noticing that your leg was bouncing and your hands were fidgeting with whatever you could touch.

“Yeah. A bit.” You responded, sending a weak smile to her.

“Speak of the devil, she’s just messaged me to see how you are. Isn’t that sweet? I remember when you first met. It was love at first sight. And god was my ears chewed off by you going on and on about how you loved Niamh.” Alessia, who was sat next to you, teased you before telling the whole coach the story of how you and Niamh met.

It was true, Alessia had been there when you and Niamh met for the first time.

In fact, she had been the one to introduce you to one another.

You had joined the youth age groups later than everyone else but Alessia had taken you under wing and had introduced you to all her friends, including Niamh.

From then on, Alessia became your best friend, along with Tooney, the three of you becoming an iconic trio.

And you and Niamh grew closer too. Becoming friends and then realising the growing crush on her, before finally, after months of flirting with one another, Niamh asked you on a date.

That was nearly eight years ago and you’re still just in love with Niamh as if you were when you were sixteen.

“Less, stop it.” You told her, nudging her shoulder as she continued to tell embarrassing stories of you when you were teenagers.

“Yeah but I’m right in the middle of when you slipped on the ball when we were in Jordan.” Alessia said as the girls laughed.

“Well at least I didn’t have our coach performing the Heimlich manoeuvre on me because I was chocking on spaghetti. Some Italian you are.” You fired back, a grin taking over your face as Alessia’s face dropped.

“You promised to not tell anyone about that.” Alessia complained, rolling her eyes as Kyra fell to the coach floor laughing. “And I’m half Italian by the way.”

Your mind went foggy as tiredness took over it.

You rested your head on Alessia’s shoulder who immediately cuddled up to you and fell asleep.

It was a normal occurrence to fall asleep on the way to away matches, especially to fall asleep on Alessia.

Alessia and you always sat next to each other on the coaches and with your capability to fall asleep anywhere, it was normally her who had to deal with your snoring.

After two hours of sleeping, you were awoken by Kyra who was excited to play her first final for Arsenal.

Before long, you were walking out of the tunnel to complete a pitch inspection.

Noticing Niamh on the other side of the pitch, you split up from Kyra and Alessia and approaches Niamh.

A smile grew on Niamh’s face as she spotted you, opening her arms as she enveloped you in a hug.

You didn’t say anything, it was just a hug made of pure love for one another.

You broke away from the hug, reaching out to rest a hand on her cheek before pressing a light kiss on her lips.

“I’ll see you later, okay?” Niamh said, your face centimetres away from hers.

“You will. I love you, Niamhy.”

“I love you too, pretty girl.”

And with that, you went your separate ways, you going back to Alessia and Kyra, and Niamh going back to Zecira.

————————

After an eventful game that went into extra time, the full time whistle blew.

It had been one hell of a match to say the least.

With the score being 0-0 through most of the game, to Frida collapsing on the pitch, to you scoring the winning goal just four minutes before full time.

The whole entire arsenal team gathered round celebrating.

It was as if you were dual natured in that moment.

One half of you wanted to celebrate with all your teammates, but the other half wanted to go and wrap Niamh in a hug.

You opted for both. Spending time with your teammates for a few minutes before going off to find Niamh.

“Niamhy, I’m so sorry.” You began but Niamh turned around with a light smile on her face.

“Don’t say sorry, love. I’m so proud of you.” Niamh opened her arms once again as you found your spot in between them. “You go celebrate. I’ll see you at home later, okay? We can have all the cuddles in the world then. I promise.”

Niamh stuck to her promise.

As you arrived back in London that night, most of the team decided to go out celebrating but you decided to get back home, desperately wanting to see Niamh.

After lots of teasing about you and Niamh, you eventually got away from them all and drive home.

Niamh was already waiting for you in bed, burying your head in her chest as you laid down next to her.

All of the dread had gone.

You were now in your happy place. Your safe space. You were with your Niamh.