#couple shot

[starscream-is-my-wife]

LL Megatron gets transported to the G1 cartoon (pre movie) guns don't kill anyone, everyone is more focused on their one liners then battle, wizards are real, days dont mean anything, what a silly universe

Edit: Comic based on this idea here

[onthecrescentofthehill]

the paintings in this ep :^(

[pharmasrightarm]

oops, still feral over pre-war Dead End Dratchet

(drift: you're rusting at every joint gasket: but isn't that doctor chummy with the cops? we're literal thieves??)

started with the headcanon that drift hung around the clinic like a feral wet cat for a while, then halfway through shading these, I started thinking, what if deadlock was an especially reliable assassin because he knew what kind of damage would make sure that even the best of the best couldn't bring you back

[thecindercrow]

Lackadaisy (Pilot)

[shaadiwish]

Check Out Shradha & Chaitanya’s Wedding Pictures

[illumous]

I finished my first run of bg3! A comic about my Tav as a last little farewell. It was fun playing you, dearest Jelibeen.

[mysunshinetemptress]

Glitter in the Air

Grace Clinton x Albert!Reader

Warnings: Internalised homophobia, homophobia

A/n thank you @silentwolfsstuff for proofreading it for me.

You can still remember the first time you felt different, felt different from your family, from Korbin.

You’re ten when you and Korbin sit up all night as she talks about Shawn, a boy in your class that she’s currently crushing on, you listen like you always have and smile as her cheeks redden as she talks about holding his hand in the yard.

Your cheeks redden a short while later but for different reasons, the conversation moves to what boy you have a crush on.

It’s not a boy, it hasn’t been a boy since you kissed Dylan behind the tree in his backyard, You haven’t liked a boy since Aaliyah held your hand at the last school dance, since she kissed your cheek in the girls bathroom.

You’re sick you think,a short while after it happens, that’s why you have these funny feelings, maybe Aaliyah made you sick by holding your hand and kissing your cheek and that’s why your stomach feels funny, you feel this sinking feeling in your stomach as you think of it more, you’re sick now, you can’t hold anyone’s hand anymore you can’t kiss your mom good night because you’re sick, Aaliyah made you sick and you don’t want to give to anyone especially not your family, especially not Korbin and Teagan and Kylar and your Dad. So you stop, no one else can be sick like you, you’ll keep it to yourself and that way everyone will be safe.

But you can’t tell Korbin this, she doesn’t seem to have these types of feelings for girls, she’s not sick, no one seems to have these types of feeling for girls except your Dad and Kyler, but they're boys, they are supposed to feel that way, they aren’t sick like you, it what your mom says, it’s what the pastor says, it’s what the bible says.

You try to stop having these feelings as you get older you really do, you try to pray away your sickness, you pour holy water over your hands daily and you bless yourself extra going to mass but still nothing works.

You get a boyfriend when you turn fifteen a couple of months after Korbin starts dating Ethan you find Will.

He’s nice and you parents love him the same way his parents love you but you never feel what Korbin and Teagan say they feel with their boyfriends.

They aren’t sick like you.

You do however feel it with Kayla, you don’t mean to, you never meant to but she’s soft and nice to talk to not that Will isn’t but when you talk with her on the bus ride home from your match and you swear your hearts going to beat out of your chest.

Kayla tries to kiss you a couple of weeks later but you panic “what are you doing.” Kayla’s still has her hands on your face your cheeks slightly squished together “I just thought that…well you know since…” you pull fully back “I have a boyfriend Kay, Will he’s nice and I can’t do this to him.”

Kayla’s eyes widen “wait does…are you saying that if you weren’t with Will you would.” You panic at the pulling away stepping back trying to create distance. “I’m not gay.” You state harshly “I’m not sick.” You spit harsher again. Kayla tried to but she really couldn’t be mad you looked so heartbroken and so conflicted “ok my mistake.”

You avoid her on the bus from then on, and you find yourself sitting alone, she’s the only other sophomore on the varsity team, if you don’t talk to her, sit with her then you’ll be alone. You are alone. You’re the only one who’s sick.

You’ve been getting called to play for the US since you were thirteen, Korbin following a year later at fourteen. You move along the ranks of football better and your parents can’t help but show how happy they are for you, how happy your sisters and brother are for you, but still you feel lost. You still feel sick.

You travel to France in the summer of 2019 it’s a gift from your parents for getting baptised and giving your life to god, you don’t do it cause you want to, you do it in hopes it will rid you of this sickness you do it in hopes of being normal.

But it also makes your parents happy it makes Korbin happy as she bounces in the water beside you.

You sit anxiously as the US win the World Cup again. A funny feeling fills you as you watch Kelly O’Hara run to the crowd and kiss a girl, sure you knew most of the senior squad players were gay but to actually see one in real life kissing a girl, it felt weird.

But that feeling faded quickly as Korbin let out a small ew at the sight instead your body now felt heavy like you were being pulled down, “I mean I know she’s a girl kisser but can’t she do that in private.” Teagan nods “it’s sick honestly it’s like they are trying to force us into accepting it.”

You and Will are still together, even when Korbin’s gone and had three other boyfriends, but you still don’t have those feelings your friends and sisters talk about, maybe you just have to stick with him a little longer.

Maybe you just need to sleep with him and the feelings will start then, maybe the sickness will go away then.

It’s what you tell yourself leading up to the varsity teams dance, it’s what you tell yourself as you dance with him through the night, it’s what you tell yourself when your kissing in the corner of the hall and it’s what you tell yourself as your lying on the bed Will pressed up against you. But it never happens.

You break up with him just before summer that year. “I….I’m sorry Will I just, I don’t…they all have these feelings and I don’t have them and…you deserve someone who has them cause your a really great guy and I don’t…you would just be left waiting for me to get feelings I don’t think will ever come.”

He takes it relatively well, you’re just happy that you can still be friends, Korbin takes it worse than both of you combined.

“Oh my god I just heard, are you ok…stupid question sorry come on let’s go get ice cream.” You don’t know what else to do but you can’t indulge in the bad things she’s saying about him “He’s not a bad guy Korbin I broke up with him, he…I don’t have these feelings you and Teagan talk about for him and it’s not fair on him so I broke up with him.” I’m sick and he’s not and I don’t want to put that on him you think.

Korbin takes that as you fancy someone else and the heart to heart you thought you were having turns into gossip about who it could be that you like.

You're seventeen still when it’s time to make a decision about your football career. College is the best option but it’s not the only one for you like it is for Korbin.

The decision hangs heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the sunlit afternoon. Notre Dame, a prestigious institution, beckoned with its ivy-covered walls and storied tradition. It's where Korbin will be but it wasn't the dream. The dream was painted in Carolina blue, a vision of playing for UNC, a place where legends like Tobin Heath and Lucy Bronze had once graced the field.

The phone call from Manchester United shattered the familiar. A senior contract, not a youth academy invite. A chance to step onto the world stage, to play in the WSL not some college league, not the NCAA. It was a dream come true, but a dream that Korbin was still a few years off reaching.

You couldn't help but feel guilty, you were twins you did everything together, but for many years you had been charging ahead in soccer, you just had to hope she'd catch up eventually.

You don't expect it to make major news, your still only seventeen but your mom sends a clip of an ESPN headline stating your signing to Manchester United.

Y/n Albert is on her way to the WSL signing with Manchester United, Albert’s twin sister Korbin commits to Notre Dame.

You move a short while later, your parents coming with you to help you settle into your new apartment, you feel happy, content even until your mom states her worries for you living in the English city.

"I worry about you baby, you know there are so many...gays here and well i don't want any of them trying to force themselves on you, their sick individuals and your my baby."

You feel as though you might throw up then and there at the reminder of your sickness.

"Mom" you whine "No ones going to do anything, I....I'll be fine."

They leave a few days later, with the promise of geting on a flight and coming to rescue you if needed, you brush them off stepping back as your mom moves in for a hug and instead simply waving goodbye.

United finish fourth on the table, but you have a dream first season, so much so you get your first call up to the USWNT, you cry on the phone to Korbin as she cries back about how proud she is, your parents are proud to but your moms also busy wondering if you've met any nice english boys, again the moment is ruined and you feel sick again.

Y/n Albert receives her first call up for the USWNT after a dream first season with the Red Devils, making an appearance in every match this season and starting in nineteen games, assisting Untied star striker Alessia Russo with six of her eleven goals.

It's true you've assisted the majority of Alessia's goals but you haven't celebrated a single one, not on or off the pitch, in fact your team have copped on pretty quickly that you don't want to be hugged, to be touched.

You want nothing more, but the girls are to good to get sick from you, Alessia who you can't help but admit you've got a slight crush for is to good to get this awful sickness from you, its safer if you don't hug...don't touch your teammates.

Y/n Albert receives first cap for the USWNT against Costa Rica in the CONCAF semi-finals which saw the USWNT advancing to the finals after a 3-0 score.

You return back to Manchester, a winner with two senior national team caps under your belt, after facing Canda in the final, your english teamates have won the euros and while they are all showing off their medal standing around hugging your teamates, you stand far back in the corner of your dressing room.

Your medal gets passed around too, you've scrubbed it clean making sure none of your germs are on it so the girls don't get sick, its been in your bag ever since and you simply wave at Less to grab it from there when she asks about it.

It's a big deal, a real medal but you can't cause a fuss over it because then people want to congratulate you, touch you, so you wave it all off.

You wave it off. until a girl around the same age as you with a funny accent hands it back "That's proper cool mate." You look between her and the medal, three maybe four times.

She steps forward her arms open, open for a hug but they swiftly close as you step back and her face falls slightly.

She sticks her hand out "Sorry" and now your eyes flash between her outstretched hand, your medal and her face. "Less says you're not a hugger I forgot, but its really great to meet you mate, I'm Grace."

You don't move, your mind is blank, in fact all you can think about is how she says her Gs a weird way, and as her face falls slightly at your lack of response to her open hand your brain kicks in.

"Y/n." you say shakily, but still don't move. Grace drops her hand smiling and all you can think about is how your stomach erupts into butterflies.

But it only lasts a moment, only a moment until you feel your stomach drop, your blood to go cold and the heavy feeling to fall back on to you.

Your sickness is back, and you can't give it to Grace, not now not ever.

Grace and her funny little way of saying Gs.

[gfwithaphatty]

We've reached a ton of followers the last week, appreciate all the love y'all❤️

[pitchsidestories]

the wish II Ingrid Engen x Mapi León x Reader

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 1340

summary: Mapi and Ingrid are looking for a special gift to give it reader for Christmas. requested

author's note: dear readers, we hope @briggtea and you all will enjoy the wholesome oneshot. 💜💜

You smiled when you saw the sign on the door that said they were filming for a social media post outside on the pitch. Those videos were always a lot of fun. You never knew what the question of the day would be when you walked out to training, it kept you on your toes.

You opened the door curiously, excited to answer whatever the social media department came up with.

“Bon dia, girls. I’ve a question for you. What was your favourite football shirt as a child?”

The question made your face light up immediately. Childhood memories of yourself watching hours upon hours of football flooded your brain. You wanted to be exactly like your idols, so you begged for their shirts for birthdays and Christmases every year.

Mapi who walked out in front of you didn’t hesitate and winked at the camera: “Puyol for me.“

“Any Barcelona one for me too.“, Ellie replied politely before turning towards you, “What about you, y/n?”

You thought about it for a moment, trying to find the perfect answer: “I’m afraid I don’t really have a favourite but there was one I always wanted and never got.“

“Tell us.“, Ellie demanded with a big grin.

“But that wasn’t the point of the question, was it?”, you smirked.

“Doesn’t matter, keep going.“, directed the social media manager.

You shrugged and finally revealed: “I always wanted a Marta jersey.“

As you were about to continue to walk towards the pitch, Ingrid appeared by your side. She studied your side profile with watchful eyes: “Was there a special reason? I mean to why you didn’t get it?”

You shook your head: “No, I just never got it.“

A plain and simple explanation now but when you were young, you were heartbroken about the fact. You adored everything the Brazilian did, from her skills to the way she spoke about women’s football.

She was so good that she was even recognised by male football players at a time when the sport was still target of a lot of ridicule. For you, she was the greatest football player ever back then. In fact, you still looked up to her today.

“That’s sad. Alexia, Caro, Ona? What were your favourite shirts growing up?”, the social media manager moved on to the next players that left the dressing room.

“Mine was Messi!”, Vicky yelled from behind them to which Alexia only rolled her eyes.

“Messi, of course. I loved my Ronaldinho one.“, the captain with a nostalgic smile on her lips.

Vicky frowned at her: “Who?”

“You don’t know who Ronaldinho is?!”, Alexia and you synchronously asked with dismay.

“Just kidding.“, the young player laughed.

You shook your head about her: “Can’t believe you’d joke about something like that!”

“I know. That’s why I had to.“, she smirked back.

“You’ll get that back.”, Alexia warned her with a mischievous twinkle in her hazel eyes. The captain already busy thinking about what she could do to return the joke.

While your team warmed up, Mapi bumped her arm softly into your girlfriend’s side to receive her attention. “You know what, Ingrid?”

“What?”, the Norwegian frowned.

“I think I’ve the perfect idea for y/n’s Christmas present this year.”, the older defender told her proudly.

Mid exercise Ingrid stopped moving, eagerly waiting for her lover to continue: “Tell me.”

“A Brazil Marta jersey.”, Mapi whispered because you were nearby, but luckily too focused on the training to hear what they were saying.

The taller woman’s face lit up in delight at the Spaniard’s suggestion: “That’s a great idea. I’m sure we can get her an original one even and she’ll love it.”

“I hope so.”, the heavily tattooed defender replied optimistically.

The weeks before Christmas were hectic, but at times beautiful, for example, when you strolled with the Barcelona team around Gamla stan, Stockholm’s old town which was prettily decorated for the festive season.

During the walk Mapi couldn’t stop taking photos of her surroundings including Ingrid and you. Memories forever captured on camera film.

The Christmas days the three of you spend in Norway, close to Ingrid’s family, the New Years Eve you all would be back in Spain to celebrate the arrival of 2025 with your friends.

For a moment you looked at the window, watching the snowflakes dance in front of it. Your girlfriends and you already had a delicious evening dinner.

Now it was the time to unpack the presents which lay underneath the Christmas tree. All three of you were filled with giddy excitement and couldn’t wait to see the reaction of your loves when they’d open what you gifted them.

“Okay, who’s starting to unpack the first present.”, you clapped excitedly into your hands.

A bright grin was formed on Mapi’s lips as she volunteered, she was fully covered in the warmest blanket to keep herself warm: “I’ll start.”

“This is from y/n and me.”, Ingrid explained solemnly handing her the beautifully and careful wrapped box.

Once the Spaniard glanced into the insides, she glanced up in awe. “You girls are the cutest. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. We spotted this and immediately thought that’s so Maria.”, you hummed.

In a pleasant tone the Norwegian added: “And we know you love everything coffee related.”

Both of you knew that the older defenders love for coffee ran so deep she even got it permanently inked to her skin. On a rare free day, you three loved to spend your time in trying out new coffeeshops.

“I’ll be on coffee duty tomorrow morning to try this out.”, Mapi decided cheerfully.

“We hoped you’d say that.”, you chuckled.

“Of course, you two did.”, she smiled amusedly.

Clearing your throat you quickly changed the topic:” Ingrid, you’re next.”

The Norwegian started to unwrap her present patiently, folding the paper neatly until it revealed a dainty golden necklace.

“Oh my god, girls. You didn’t need to. Thank you so much.“

“You’re welcome, amor.“, Mapi said softly as she helped her put the necklace on.

“You deserve it.“, you agreed.

“I really appreciate it.“, Ingrid beamed.

You both leaned over to simultaneously press kisses to her cheeks which made Ingrid immediately turn red.

“So I guess it’s my turn now.“, you finally said, pulling the only gift left under the tree into your lap.

Mapi nodded with excitement: “Yes, open it!”

You could feel your breath hitch when you saw a sliver of yellow fabric peaking out from the wrapping paper. It couldn’t be. There was no way.

“It’s a Marta jersey!”, you finally confirmed delighted, holding up the Brazil shirt.

Ingrid nodded, pointing at the back with your idols name and number on it: “It’s even signed.“

“No way!”

“Do you like it?”, Mapi asked impatiently.

You shook your head, lost for words. The little girl inside of you was jumping with joy and you suddenly felt emotional for her. “No. I love it. You know when we were kids, we only had male role models and Marta was the first female one for me…“

“And now you finally have her shirt.“, Ingrid concluded.

“Thank you so much. This might be the most thoughtful present I’ve ever received.“, you said as you blinked away the upcoming tears.

“Admittedly we had some help with it.“, Mapi laughed lightheartedly.

“From our fellow football friends?”, you asked.

Ingrid nodded: “Special thanks to Geyse.“

“And our social media team for asking you that question.“, Mapi added.

You couldn’t help yourself, you had to slip the shirt over your Christmas sweater. You pulled your two girlfriends into a tight hug: “Thank you, sweethearts. This might be one of my favourite gifts ever.“

“We’re glad you like it.“, Mapi smiled and gently kissed you forehead. “Look, it started to snow again!”

“This is beautiful.“, you said while staring out the window where big snowflakes fell, starting to cover Ingrids hometown in a layer of white.

Ingrid pulled you and Mapi in towards her as you stood there and watched on: “It truly couldn’t be anymore perfect than this.“

Christmas/Winter Oneshots

if you enjoyed this story reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated !

[blessyouhawkeye]

hey guys. getting real concerned buck is going to get shot this season. we got the well redux this episode, next episode we're getting lightning strike redux. there's only one other big buckandeddie disaster missing. and they've already started reestablishing eddie's capability as a field medic. therefore: buck should start wearing a bulletproof vest

[waverlyyhaught]

Favorite Marta and Fina Moments - Part 98 Sueños de Libertad, Ep. 180

[nlvrr]

HIS STYLIST | jude bellingham

summary: jude is hopelessly smitten with his stylist, but no matter how charming or flirty he gets, she remains oblivious to his feelings.

warnings: none!

pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader

a/n request more people to write about or anything! im on christmas break and want things to write about!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the studio hummed with the usual sounds, tailors fussing over fabric, the drone of a few lights being adjusted, but to jude, it was all background noise. his focus was entirely on her, the way she moved around him, so careful, so assured. every step she took seemed to amplify the heartbeat that echoed in his chest.

it had been months since they started working together. months of fitting, adjusting, watching her hands smooth over his collar, or adjust his cuff, with professional precision. she was his personal stylist, and from the start, their relationship had been entirely business. but somewhere along the way, it had shifted for jude. each brush of her fingers against his skin, each moment when their eyes would meet for just a second too long, made him feel something deeper than what he had ever intended to feel for someone simply doing their job.

“relax your shoulders, jude,” she said, her tone gentle but steady, her hands reaching for the edges of his suit jacket.

he did as instructed, but it was hard not to stiffen when she got close, when the heat from her body pressed against his in subtle, fleeting moments.

“better,” she murmured as she moved back. her fingers lingered over him for just an instant longer than was necessary.

“always so perfect,” he said with a playful grin, trying again to flirt, hoping she’d notice, hoping maybe, just maybe, she’d let her guard down this time.

she didn’t respond right away, but when she did, her smile was small and polite. “that’s the goal,” she said, as if it were just another part of the job.

he watched her, studying every move, and for a second, he imagined what it would be like if she smiled at him without that professionalism, the mask that never quite cracked. he could tell himself over and over that it was a lost cause, that she was just his stylist, that this thing he felt, this longing, was a silly infatuation that would fade. but it never did.

“you know,” he began, voice smooth but with a quiet edge of vulnerability creeping through, “i feel like i should thank you. you really have a gift, making all of this look effortless.” he gestured to his perfectly tailored suit, smiling a little too brightly. “it’s hard to feel this… good.”

she didn’t seem moved by his words in the way he hoped. instead, she adjusted his cuffs, still cool and collected. “it’s just what i do.” she flicked her gaze up to him, those eyes holding a faintly amused glimmer. “your job’s harder than mine.”

he wanted to say this wasn’t hard. that looking at her, feeling this constant pull toward her, was the hardest thing he’d done in months. but instead, he forced a light chuckle. “maybe you’re right. but it can be difficult to make perfection look effortless.”

the moment stretched. she stepped away, adjusting a few things on his jacket that he was fairly certain didn’t need adjusting. “it’s all about the details.” her voice was soft, easy to brush off as just her doing her work. professional. detached.

jude, however, had spent months thinking about those details. the way she looked at him sometimes. the way she shifted just a little closer when she was measuring his sleeves. the subtle touches that made his heart race and left him wondering if, just maybe, she noticed him the way he noticed her.

but he couldn’t let her continue to be this distant. couldn’t keep pretending it didn’t bother him, couldn’t ignore the way his chest felt tight at how polite and professional she remained—how impossibly detached she seemed to be when it came to him.

“i need to say something,” jude said suddenly, his voice thick with nerves. he hadn’t meant to say anything like this. he wasn’t even sure how the words had gotten this far.

she paused, fingers still on his sleeve, but now there was a shift in her posture—curiosity, but no immediate panic. no expectation that anything could be different.

“what’s up?” she asked, finally turning to face him fully. there was something almost friendly in her gaze now, a flicker of openness he hadn’t expected to see.

jude’s throat tightened as he swallowed. this was it. he knew he couldn’t keep hiding it, not forever. he took a breath, gathering every ounce of courage he had, and said it before he could second-guess himself.

“i like you. more than just well, more than just professional. and i’ve been trying to ignore it, trying to make it… go away. but it doesn’t. so, i figured if i didn’t tell you, i’d just keep pretending, keeping my distance, but i can’t anymore.”

for a beat, the world seemed to freeze. she stared at him for a moment, her lips parting slightly as though she was processing his words, but not in the way he hoped.

“oh,” she said finally, the shock clear in her tone. for a second, jude’s heart fell, but she quickly recovered with a soft laugh. “well, i didn’t expect that.” she seemed to smile, but it wasn’t exactly the response he’d imagined, not the warm acceptance he’d hoped for. she was still standing a little too far from him.

“yeah, um…” he had to swallow to push the nervous energy down. “i thought maybe you… might feel the same way.”

she blinked, and jude’s heart thudded. “i don’t know,” she said with a light shrug, but there was no edge in her voice—nothing that would outright shut him down. “i mean, i think you’re great and all. i just… didn’t think you saw me that way.”

the tension lifted slightly. her words weren’t a rejection. no, they weren’t exactly a refusal. but they weren’t confirmation either.

“i guess that’s fair,” he mumbled, running a hand through his hair in that awkward, sheepish way he always did. his mind reeled at her unexpected reaction.

“but,” she continued, eyes gleaming just a little, “i wouldn’t mind seeing where it could go. i did notice you, you know. you’re not the only one who’s been… thinking about this.” there was that smirk again, playful this time, as though she’d already known all along.

jude’s chest felt lighter, though his heart still pounded. maybe it wasn’t as disastrous as he had imagined.

“you—seriously?” his voice cracked with hope.

“yeah. dinner, maybe. we’ll see,” she said, teasing with that cool, knowing smile.

he let out a relieved breath. maybe she hadn’t been entirely oblivious after all. but for now, the playful banter and guarded interest between them had finally found its space.

and he was willing to take it one step at a time.

[trulyhblue]

Could you possibly do a Grace Clinton x Reader please based on what Alessia mentioned on her podcast about Grace being a big hugger and like a sloth ! x also love your work ❤️

Just A Hugger

Grace Clinton x Lioness! Reader

Warnings: fluff, secret but established relationship, very short!

______________________

You were sitting on one of the bean bags for the first time all camp, snuggled under an array of blankets, cuddling your phone as you stared up at the TV in front of you. The room was dark, holding refuge to more than a dozen tired athletes, all clad in their sponsored trackies and hoodies. You were among the handful that had been able to snag a bean bag before they were all full.

Alessia and Ella shared one beside you, and Niamh and Lotte planted theirs together in order to create one combined. On the lounges behind you, many of the girls lay across one another, sluggish in their endeavours to soak up some team bonding while also maintaining the silence. Beth had made you a hot chocolate, and Esme had picked the movie, which was of no complaint to anyone, considering the City girl always seemed to know best. You could hear Lauren muttering about her latest Lego creation to LJ, who was somewhat endorsed by the topic of conversation, yet scrolled aimlessly on her phone as she hummed along in agreement, since Hempo’s tangents often let on for prolonged periods.

Your feet peeked out from under the blankets, your fluffy pink socks matching with your girlfriend, who was nowhere to be seen. There was a quiet hum of chatter as the movie played, and everyone was content with the mixture as it was the first time anyone had really gotten to bond with another teammate outside of training.

The euro qualifiers were tough, and your fresh arrival to the team made it even more difficult to mould into a routine. In such high stake games, you certainly weren't looking for any significant game time, but you were a halftime sub during England’s campaign against Sweden, and you were hopeful of getting the same minutes this time against France.

You were younger than most of the girls but had been around professional football for long enough to have known them all for quite some time. You made your debut at United only a few years ago before playing for City in the Youth groups. There you met the likes of Mary, Katie and Ella, who were the first Lionesses that you had truly gotten to know. You had eventually met Grace when she came from Bristol to United, and from then, you were both sent on loan to Tottenham, where your friendship blossomed into a North London Treasure. Fans are no longer sure Grace is a United player, but their NLD golden girl. You were born and raised Manchester-bound, and you were not prepared to face the fact that you were slowly becoming among the faces of Tottenham’s affiliates. It took you a while to process the hurt that came with your loan, and at some points, you envied how quickly Grace fit in with your teammates and the game they played. But you soon moulded well as a striker, especially as your relationship with Grace consumed your everyday life.

You had moved in together as friends and slowly found your deep feelings for her embedded into your heart. The hugs during celebrations, and the post-match interviews matched with longing stares and soft compliments. Fans jumped to the joyride of how calm and collected the two of you held yourselves, especially as a duo in the games. Grace was always helping you up after badly set tackles, and you pushed her away from unnecessary quarrels with opponents. The media would pick up on the assists Grace would give you, and the spectacular goals that came as a result of your chemistry. There weren't any other two players that had this sort of combination together, and clubs were quick to realise that if they wanted one of you, the other was instantly included.

It was only half way through the season when the two of you got together. It was after your win against Arsenal, and the celebrations mixed with alcohol were quick to loosen your tongue. It was a well-kept secret between you two, except your two best friends Charli and Celine had caught on about your feelings long before you had even gotten together. The media were just enamoured by your friendship with Grace. The fans adored the affection you showed each other. There was inevitable shipping rumours, but they never held much significance.

While you liked the privacy of your relationship, Grace wanted to make it known that you were hers. It wasn't like you kept it discreet. You had shown each other the same amount of PDA before you made it official, so there was minimal change when it came to the way you interacted with each other, save for the heavy affection shown in the showers after a match, away from prying eyes. However, Grace had found herself falling more protective of you. If someone had made a false tackle on you, she’d be all over it before you had even hit the ground. It was an anger that had never presented itself beforehand, but it was sure to unleash the second you winced into the grass.

You were very reserved on the pitch. There wasn't much you got up to, and your card count was very low. Grace was much more vicious, but held accountability when it was due.

Everyone just thought that it was the end-of-season drama, where teams were making last-second challenges that would aim to help their position on the ladder.

Now, as both of your loans with Tottenham were soon to be over, Grace and you had not only made yourselves comfortable in the London atmosphere but had created special bonds with the likes of Celine with Grace and you with Charli, which made the return back a little difficult to face. You were both extremely valuable to each team, and there had been an inexplicable improvement that United wanted a piece of, though Tottenham wanted to keep. You were conflicted with the history of your home, and the alliance of your new life, which added to the stress of debuting with the England Senior Team.

You felt a familiar figure crouch beside you, placing another layer of soft blanket over your figure. With a soft kiss on your forehead, you snuggled up to Grace’s side, immediately cradling her waist with your arms, engulfing her chest with your head, and listening to her steady heartbeat.

“God, you're so warm.” She muttered, pulling your thigh over her leg, letting your weight lean against her. You let out a silent laugh as Grace wrapped her arms around your shoulders, running her hand through the nape of your hair, playing with the loose strands.

You peered down at her feet, feeling the familiar fabric of your matching socks. “Where have you been?”

Grace tucked you into her chest further, breathing in your scent as she sighed. “Talking to Sarina. She wanted to see what I was doing with Tottenham?”

You looked up, carefully calculating the mood on your girlfriend's face. “What about it?”

“Just whether we— whether I was staying.”

“What did you say?”

“I told her I’d have to ask you.” Grace glanced down at you, smiling at the crease between your eyebrows. She pecked your nose, tracing your features subtly. “She said that she could see that we were dating from a mile away.”

You scoffed at that. “Bet she did.”

None of your national teammates mentioned anything, though some of the senior girls had caught on quite quickly that something had changed since the last time they had seen you in Manchester. Ella, who was usually the slowest had walked in on you two that very morning, yelping and whining over breakfast, making your face go red with embarrassment and Grace shoving Tooney over to Lessi, who, inevitably, now knows.

You had told Beth and Leah that you two had gotten close while partnered together at training. Leah had told you it was obvious, and Beth had given you a big hug before listing things she and Viv did to keep their relationship a secret before it got out.

Grace had told Mary, who told Millie, who told Rach, and soon enough pretty much everyone who cared had found out over the course of a day. They were quick to subtly congratulate you, but the attention had died down by the time dinner had past and you all were watching the somewhat indulging film Esme had put on.

You weren't keeping your relationship a secret, but neither of you found a point in letting it known. If someone asked, you’d tell them. Both of you were waiting for the media to catch on, but until then, you were content with the quietness of it all.

“I’ll go wherever you go, you know that?” Grace muttered, placing soft kisses down the coloum of your neck. You pressed your figure closer to her, sighing when her hands ran against your sides.

You held out your hand to grab hers, tracing the ridges in her knuckles. “What do you think? Tottenham or United?”

“I don't care, baby.” She spoke, peeking up from where her face hovered above your collarbone. “I would warm the bench if it meant I was with you.”

You laughed into the blankets, nudging your face into her neck. “You're a sweet talker, Clinton.”

Grace didn't deny the statement, smirking down at your cosy position against her. She wouldn't trade you for any contract offer in the world. No amount of money or years of playing football could equate to holding you in her arms.

______________

yourusername

Liked by Graceclinton, Leahwilliamson, and 98,367 others

tagged — graceclinton, alessiarusso, ellatoone

yourusername — training and socks 🧦🎀

_____________

Comments:

user78 — if they are not in love then idk what love is

lionesses — pretty in pink! 💕

graceclinton — I love the way you look at me

graceclinton — feet on feet 🤢

^ yourusername — you love it 😙

wosofan — THE WAY THEY LOOK AT EACH OTHER I CAN NOT DO THIS THEY R SO CUTE

alessia — 😍

* liked by creator

user17 — im dreading the time their loan at Tottenham ends.

^ user67 — what if one of them stays at Tottenham and the other stays at United?

^ user66 — I will become violent if this happens

^ user16 — both teams will want them both. I doubt this will happen

charlottegrant — my little koala 🐨

^ yourusername — miss you char char 😣

ellatoone — less and I third wheeling

^ alessia — you’ll live tooney

^ graceclinton — double date?

^ user62 — Y/N AND GRACE CONFIRMED???????

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[shaadiwish]

High School Sweethearts – Ira & Rajat’s Surreal Intimate Wedding

[rachdalysworld]

Request: I was wondering if maybe you could write about a single mom situation where both Leah and the reader are adapting to moving into the same house with a 5-6 year old kid who is like doubtful but Leah reassures her.

Content Note: Fluff, adjustment to a blended household, gentle emotional reassurance, and lots of warm moments.

New beggings

The house was alive with the buzz of newness—boxes stacked against walls, a faint smell of fresh paint lingering in the air, and the occasional thud of a pan or plate being unpacked. Y/N stood at the kitchen counter, organizing utensils, but her attention kept flicking to the living room, where Leah was trying to coax Sophie into conversation.

Sophie, perched on the edge of the couch with her stuffed bunny in a death grip, had barely said two words all afternoon. It wasn’t unusual for her to be shy around new situations, but Y/N couldn’t help the knot of worry tightening in her chest.

Leah, crouched in front of Sophie, glanced back toward Y/N, as if sensing her unease. She smiled—a small, reassuring curve of her lips—before turning back to the little girl.

“Hey, Soph,” Leah said gently, sitting cross-legged on the floor to seem less intimidating. “Whatcha thinking about?”

Sophie fidgeted with Mr. Floppy’s ear, her eyes downcast. “Are you really gonna live here now?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N froze, her hand hovering over a drawer of silverware.

Leah’s expression softened. “I am,” she said. “If that’s okay with you.”

Sophie’s gaze darted to Y/N for a moment, as if checking for confirmation. Y/N set the utensils down and walked over, kneeling beside Leah to get on Sophie’s level.

“It’s a big change, huh?” Y/N said, her voice warm and gentle. “It’s okay to feel unsure, baby. We’ve been just the two of us for a long time. But Leah wants to be here—with us. And I think she’s pretty special.”

Leah reached out, placing her hand lightly on Y/N’s back, a grounding gesture as much for Y/N as for Sophie. “Your mom’s right,” Leah said, her voice steady but full of emotion. “I’m here because I love her, and I love the life she’s built with you. I know it’s a lot to get used to, but I promise I’m not going anywhere. Not unless you both want me to.”

Sophie’s lips twitched, her small brow furrowed. “But what if you don’t like it here?” she asked. “Or what if I make you mad?”

Y/N pulled Sophie into her lap, stroking her hair softly. “Sweetheart, everyone gets mad sometimes. That’s part of being a family. But Leah’s not the kind of person to run away when things get hard. Right?” She glanced at Leah, her eyes searching for reassurance, too.

“Never,” Leah said firmly, her gaze locking with Y/N’s before returning to Sophie. “I chose this. I chose you both. And nothing’s going to scare me away—not messy rooms, not tough days, not even burnt toast.”

That earned a small giggle from Sophie, though she quickly smothered it, still clutching her bunny tightly. “Even if I make you really, really mad?” she asked again, her voice small but insistent.

Leah leaned in, her tone soft but steady. “Even then,” she said. “Families stick together, even when things aren’t perfect. And I’d really like to be part of yours—if you’ll let me.”

Sophie stared at her for a moment, her little face serious as she considered Leah’s words. Finally, she held out Mr. Floppy, her grip hesitant. “You can hold him,” she said shyly, “but only for a little bit. He doesn’t like new people much.”

Leah accepted the bunny with exaggerated care, cradling it like it was precious. “Thank you, Mr. Floppy,” she said solemnly, making Sophie giggle again—this time without trying to hide it.

Y/N watched the exchange, her heart swelling. She leaned her head briefly against Leah’s shoulder. “See?” she murmured to Sophie. “She’s pretty good, huh?”

Sophie nodded slowly, snuggling closer to Y/N. “She’s okay,” Sophie declared, as if reaching a verdict. “She can stay.”

Leah grinned, slipping her arm around Y/N’s waist and kissing her temple. “Thank you, Your Honor,” she teased.

Y/N laughed softly, resting her cheek against Leah’s shoulder as Sophie began to chatter about where Mr. Floppy should sleep in the new house.

In that moment, surrounded by unpacked boxes and an uncertain but growing bond, they felt the first glimmers of what their life together could be: messy, imperfect, but absolutely filled with love.

A/N: i hope you guys enjoyed it, my first fic in a long, long, looooong time. Requests are accepted! i’ll do a masterlist too so you guys can find my works there too. Big love, the love of your life.❤️

[mysunshinetemptress]

Never Have I Ever

Barca Femaní x Teen Reader

The bright lights of the makeshift studio were starting to give you a headache, but the end was in sight. Media day. A necessary evil, as your coach called it. Hours of posing, smiling, answering repetitive questions, and generally trying to look like you weren't about to collapse from boredom. But this, the final task, was different. This was the fun part.

You, Jana, and Patri were standing shoulder to shoulder, each holding a light-up paddle. The paddles were programmed to cycle through different colours – red "I haven't" and green "I have" - the task was simple Never Have I Ever. A classic icebreaker, but with the added element of flashing lights and the potential for some embarrassing revelations.

The camera crew stood before you, along with a couple of team media personnel, all grinning with anticipation. One of the media guys, a young, energetic guy named Marco , held a microphone and a clipboard.

"D'acord, senyores," Marco said, his voice amplified by the microphone. "A punt per jugar una mica Mai ho he mai?"

Jana bounced on the balls of her feet, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Nascut llest!"

Patri gave a small, polite smile. "Fem-ho."

You nodded, trying to suppress a grin. You were usually quite reserved, especially for a teenager but there was something about the silly nature of the game that loosened you up.

"Vale, I'll start," Marco said, consulting his clipboard. "Never have I ever… accidentally called my coach 'Mama' or 'papa'."

Jana's paddle immediately flashed green. She groaned and covered her face with her hands. "ay dios mío, it was awful," she said, laughing. "It was during training, and I was so tired, and I just blurted out 'papa!' He just stared at me, and I wanted the ground to swallow me whole."

Patri’s paddle remained red, as did yours. You’d always been careful to keep your interactions with the coach strictly professional.

"Vale, next one," Marc continued. "Never have I ever… snuck out of team curfew."

Jana’s paddle flashed green again, eliciting more laughter from the crew. "Vale, Vale, I was young and foolish," she admitted, raising her hands in surrender. "It was just to go get ice cream! It was worth it."

Patri’s paddle stayed red, and you hesitated for a moment before pressing the red button on your own paddle. You’d never been one for breaking rules, even now as the other younger girls tried to entice you.

"Muy bien, Y/n, estás despierto," Marco said, turning to you with a smile. "Never have I ever… forgotten my kit bag for a match."

Your paddle flashed green immediately. You winced, remembering the frantic scramble to borrow spare kit from a teammate just minutes before kickoff. It had been a stressful experience, and one you’d never forget. It was your first time playing at a more senior level at La Misa and the older girls kit nearly swallowed you whole.

Jana and Patri both laughed, their paddles red. "Oh, that's a classic," Jana said.

The game continued, with Marc reading out a mix of team-related and more general "Never Have I Ever" statements. Some of the questions were funny, some were slightly embarrassing, and some were surprisingly revealing.

"Never have I ever… cried after a loss," Marco read.

All three of your paddles flashed green. You all shared a knowing glance. The pain of defeat was something you all understood intimately.

"Never have I ever… pretended to be injured to get out of training," Marco said, grinning.

Jana’s paddle flashed green instantly. Patri and you burst out laughing. "That's definitely Jana," Patri said, shaking her head.

Your paddle and Patri’s stayed red. You were both too dedicated to the sport to ever consider faking an injury. Your idolies wouldn't do it so why would you.

As the game went on, you started to feel more comfortable, more relaxed. You were laughing and joking with Jana and Patri, sharing stories and making fun of each other. The tension of media day had completely dissipated, replaced by a genuine sense of camaraderie.

Finally, Marco announced the last question. "This is a big one," he said, raising his eyebrows. "Never have I ever… had a crush on a teammate."

Jana’s paddle flashed green immediately, followed shortly by Patri’s. You hesitated for a moment, a strange feeling fluttering in your stomach. You glanced at Jana and Patri, who were both looking at you expectantly. You took a deep breath and pressed the green button on your paddle.

A collective gasp went up from the crew. Jana and Patri’s eyes widened in surprise.

"Ooooh," Marco said, his voice full of intrigue. "This is getting interesting. Care to elaborate, Y/n?"

You felt your cheeks flush slightly, but you managed a small smile. "It's nothing serious," you said, shrugging. "Just a little…admiración"

Jana winked at you. "We've all been there," she said, laughing.

The game ended shortly after, and the camera crew began packing up their equipment. You, Jana, and Patri lingered for a moment, still buzzing from the fun of the game.

From the moment you left the makeshift studio, the “crush” revelation became the team’s new favorite topic of conversation. It wasn’t malicious pestering, more like playful teasing and genuine curiosity, but it was relentless.

In the changing room after training, Jana would nudge you with her elbow and whisper, “So, spill the tea! Who is it?” Her eyes would twinkle with mischief as she waited for your reaction.

You’d blush and try to deflect the question, saying things like, “It’s no one important,” or “It was a long time ago.” But Jana wouldn’t give up easily. She’d launch into a guessing game, rattling off the names of various teammates, coaches, even the team’s physio.

You hope it stays between the three of you, you admition to having a crush on a teammate but of course its Jana and Patri and that hope is short lived.

The speed at which the news spread was almost comical. It was like wildfire, fueled by the team’s insatiable appetite for gossip. Within an hour, it seemed every single member of the squad knew about your “little admiración.” You could practically feel the collective gaze of the team on you, a mixture of amusement, curiosity, and knowing smiles.

It wasn't long before Mapi, the team’s resident prankster and self-proclaimed expert on all things love and romance, cornered you in the locker room. She bounced on the balls of her feet, a wide grin plastered across her face.

“So,” she began, nudging you playfully with her elbow. “Tell me everything! Who’s the lucky lady?”

You groaned and buried your face in your hands. “Mapi, please,” you mumbled. “It’s really not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” Mapi exclaimed, her eyes widening in mock horror. “Are you kidding? This is huge! This is the kind of drama we live for!”

She launched into a series of rapid-fire questions, rattling off names of various teammates, coaches, even the team’s groundskeeper. You tried your best to deflect her inquiries, offering vague answers and changing the subject whenever possible.

“Come on, Y/n,” Mapi persisted, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Just give me a hint. Is she tall? Short? Does she have a good sense of humor? Is she a good passer?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at her relentless questioning. Mapi was like a dog with a bone; she wouldn’t let go until she got what she wanted.

Just as you were about to give in and offer a meaningless clue to appease her, Ingrid, the team’s captain and voice of reason, appeared seemingly out of nowhere. She placed a hand on Mapi’s shoulder, pulling her away from you.

“Mapi,” Ingrid said firmly, her voice laced with a hint of warning. “Leave her alone.”

Mapi groaned dramatically, but she reluctantly backed off. “Fine,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But I’m not giving up that easily.”

Ingrid turned to you, offering a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about her,” she said. “She’s just being Mapi.”

You nodded gratefully. “Thanks, Ingrid,” you said. “I appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” Ingrid replied. “Just let me know if she gets too annoying.”

But shortly after Mapi it moves to Esme and Vicky.

Esme and Vicky, the team’s dynamic duo, were next. They approached you during lunch, sliding into the seats opposite you with matching mischievous grins. They were known for their close friendship and shared sense of humor, often finishing each other’s sentences and communicating through inside jokes.

“So, Y/n,” Esme began, her eyes twinkling. “We’ve heard some… interesting rumors.”

Vicky nodded in agreement, leaning forward conspiratorially. “Something about a certain… teammate?”

You sighed, bracing yourself for another round of questioning. “It’s just a silly crush,” you mumbled, picking at your food. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Oh, we beg to differ,” Esme said, exchanging a knowing glance with Vicky. “This is major news! We need details!”

They launched into their own version of the guessing game, their rapid-fire questions overlapping and intertwining. They were like a well-oiled machine, anticipating each other’s thoughts and building on each other’s jokes.

“Is it someone in the midfield?” Esme asked.

“Or maybe a forward?” Vicky suggested.

“Perhaps a defender?” Esme countered.

“Or maybe,” Vicky said, pausing for dramatic effect, “it’s the coach!”

You choked on your water, sputtering and coughing. Esme and Vicky burst out laughing, their eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Okay, okay, we’re just kidding,” Esme said, patting you on the back. “But seriously, Y/n, we’re just curious. We want to know who’s captured your heart.”

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. You trusted Esme and Vicky, but you were still hesitant to share such a personal detail.

“It’s… someone I admire,” you said finally, choosing your words carefully. “Someone who’s really talented and dedicated.”

Esme and Vicky exchanged another knowing glance. “That narrows it down to about half the team,” Vicky said dryly.

“But seriously,” Esme added, her voice softening. “We’re just happy for you, Y/n. We want you to be happy.”

“Thanks,” you said, offering them a genuine smile. “I appreciate that.”

You thought you’d weathered the storm. The relentless teasing had subsided, replaced by the occasional knowing glance or subtle nudge. You’d even started to relax a little, believing the “crush” saga was finally behind you. But you were wrong. So very wrong.

The team bonding night was a tradition, a chance for everyone to let loose and have some fun outside of the pressures of training and matches. This time, it was a casual gathering at a local karaoke bar. The atmosphere was buzzing with energy, fueled by loud music, flashing lights, and the general excitement of being off-duty.

You were initially hesitant to go, still reeling from the media day fallout. But Jana and Patri had insisted, assuring you that it would be a good time and that the “crush” topic was officially off-limits. You reluctantly agreed, hoping they were right.

For the first few hours, everything went smoothly. You laughed and sang along to the music, enjoying the relaxed atmosphere and the company of your teammates. You even managed to belt out a surprisingly decent rendition of a classic pop song, much to the amusement of Jana and Patri.

But as the night wore on and the drinks flowed, the atmosphere became more boisterous and the conversations more… revealing. And, inevitably, the topic of your “admiración” resurfaced.

It started innocently enough. Someone put on a cheesy love song, and a few of the players started jokingly serenading each other. Then, Mapi, never one to let a good opportunity pass her by, grabbed the microphone and announced to the entire bar, “Okay, everyone, let’s dedicate this next song to Y/n and their secret crush!”

A chorus of cheers and whistles erupted from the team. You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment. You shot a pleading look at Jana and Patri, but they just shrugged apologetically, their faces etched with a mixture of amusement and sympathy.

Mapi, oblivious to your discomfort, continued her impromptu dedication, adding fuel to the fire with a series of suggestive comments and playful innuendos. The team roared with laughter, egging her on.

You wanted to disappear, to become invisible, to escape the intense scrutiny of the entire team. You felt trapped, exposed, your privacy completely violated.

Just when you thought things couldn’t get any worse, Esme and Vicky, fueled by liquid courage and a shared sense of mischief, decided to take the stage for a duet. They chose a popular love song and, as they sang, they began pointing and gesturing towards various members of the team, adding their own commentary and inside jokes.

Still you don't crack not until Alexia comes and wraps her arm around you.

So,” she said, a playful glint in her eyes. “I hear you have a little… admiración for someone.”

You blushed furiously, but you couldn’t help but smile at her teasing tone.

“It’s not a crush,” you mumbled, shaking your head slightly. “It’s more like… respect. I really admire her talent and dedication.”

“Oh, I see,” Alexia said, nodding thoughtfully. “So, it’s not someone on the team?”

You shook your head again, relieved to finally be able to talk about it openly, even if it was with Alexia, which was still incredibly nerve-wracking. “No,” you said. “She plays… out of Spain, actually.”

Alexia’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Oh, really?” she said. “That’s interesting.”

She paused for a moment, considering your words. Then, a slow smile spread across her face. “Well,” she said, her voice warm and encouraging. “Admiration is a wonderful thing. It can inspire you to be better, to push yourself further.”

You feel your cheeks reden, you can't hide it anymore and the fact your about to tell her ex girlfriend is ironic "Its Jenni."

“Jenni,” Alexia repeated, the name rolling off her tongue. Her tone was even, giving nothing away. “Jenni Hermoso?”

You nodded, your cheeks burning a deeper shade of red. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on you. You were confessing your admiration for Jenni Hermoso, a player widely considered one of the best in the world, to her ex-girlfriend. The universe definitely had a sense of humor.

A brief silence hung between you, punctuated only by the off-key singing from the stage and the general chatter of the bar. Alexia’s arm remained around your shoulders, a comforting weight, but the atmosphere had subtly shifted.

“She’s… a fantastic player,” Alexia said finally, her voice measured. “Incredibly talented.”

You nodded again, finding your voice. “She is,” you agreed, your voice filled with genuine admiration. “I’ve watched her play for years. Her technique, her vision… it’s inspiring.”

You found yourself rambling slightly, trying to fill the awkward silence. You talked about Jenni’s incredible goal-scoring record, her ability to create chances for her teammates, her influence on the game. You were so focused on avoiding any mention of the personal connection between Alexia and Jenni that you almost forgot who you were talking to.

You pause waiting for Alexia to shout at you for having a crush on her ex girlfriend but instead she tilts her head back and laughs "Oh Mi Amor, Im so telling her next time i see her thats so cute."

You shove her away slightly but immediatly pull her back as she whips out her phone and starts typing, out of everyone Alexia just might be the worst person you could have told.