#local football jerseys

[saeist]

No need to say sorry!!! 😭 But your post makes me wonder why he's still in the youth team instead of the first team... I know Madrid has a hard time accepting new signings (benched damn) and Castilla players into the first team (this is why most of them move to other clubs because it's so hard to get into the first team 😔). But I still wonder why he's not there? I know from what we've seen Luna is a very good player, maybe Sae has a lot of competition... Is this one of the reasons why he changed... 😔 Anw, I get you... Jude is so fine indeed. 😭

tbh its been a hot minute since i read blue lock so if any of u read this shit do NAWT flame me bc i’m just speaking without thinking so here i go.. saeist’s own theory on why sae isnt part of div. 1

it’s either sae is holding himself back (with the whole sudden change of dream from being a striker to a midfielder?? so maybe thats his true ego that he is looking for or some shit idk) OR idk. i was about to say maybe he didn’t make the cut yet cus he’s not of age yet but then loki is already a world class player and he’s only 17 so 😐 but even if he’s not part of the first division YET, he’s still part of the new gen world 11 sooo a win is still a win

I NEED SAE BACKSTORY NOW ‼️ I NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED IN SPAIN ‼️ its been like 2k(?) days since sae last appeared in the manga too 💔 minus the recent rin backstories like that shit don’t count ‼️

ugh i miss sae so much 💔 when will pookie return from trainings 💔💔 lmk yalls theories or smth we can catch up like this

i still need to learn more about the world of futbol! i might be called a bandwagon for bellingham lol but idek where to start… i heard its premier league in the uk rn so idk if i should also tune in to that… (jobe’s hot too LOL)

[jtthompson]

There was an actually cool dispensary near me. The staff were all the chillest and the shop was just odd. Looked like it was decorated by 12 different people all with their own color schemes. And to make it even better!? They had a shop dog, a Doberman who'd spend the fall/winter in seasonally appropriate sweaters, and would just barrel from behind the counter to say hi and lean his ENTIRE weight against your shins.

They got sooo many shitty reviews from people who went in expecting a void, minimalist, neutral hellscape. Their business took a big hit, as new customers would see overly judgemental reviews and not come in.

And then they were gone. Our city tearing down another building, kicking another SMALL business, all to build another expensive apartment block, painted with the shittiest 3 color combo imaginable, and as is the new normal ~*with retail on the bottom floor~*.

More weird, cool weed stores!

And may they have a customer base who understand and can keep them in business. May they fucking survive!

For decades stoners were renowned for their aesthetics. For their blacklight posters and lava lamps, for their airbrushed dragon murals and electrical shock orb thingies from Spencer Gifts. Then they legalized weed and every weed store became the flattest, emptiest minimalist void imaginable. They're putting a weed store in a former Rainforest Cafe and they're tearing out all of the rainforest decor to make it just a big empty space with walls painted the blandest green they can find. They tore down paradise and put up a place where a business major tries to tell you CDB oil can cure cancer

[heavenbarnes]

Just thought abt olderbf!simon fucking you in his rugby/football jersey and growling right in your ear something about giving you a pretty ring on your finger and his last name

there is nothing older bf!simon wants more than to see “RILEY” across your back as he’s hitting it from behind.

it’s only sunday morning local-rec-over-21’s rugby. it’s nothing special.

but there is you on the side lines, so cold he can see your breath and wrapped up in one of his thicker jackets.

he likes the way you smile and do a little jump when it’s a penalty for his team.

and he likes that little frown you get when someone tries to take him off at the knees.

and he really likes the way you get a little dazed when he’s tackling sorry bastards across the grass.

that same dazed look you get when he comes off the pitch covered in mud and smelling like sweat. when you pass him a towel and tell him to shower at home.

which is actually code for “get me home now and i’ll do that thing you like”

and it leads him to this, bending you over on the bed so he can see his last name stretched across your shoulders and imagine what it’ll be like when it’s finally yours.

he can feel the caveman-primal-madness coursing through him when he sees you with his name on his back. inexplicably hard at the thought-

the thought of you as his.

and whilst he hasn’t got it all planned out yet, he can pretend like he does. when he presses his chest to your back so you can hear his voice loud and clear.

“y’all mine? hmm? get t’keep y’forever? till death n’all that?”

[nadvs]

looking to score (one-shot)

pairing footballcaptain! rafe cameron x female headcheerleader! reader

rating explicit 18+

summary rafe has been flirting with you all season long. just when you think he’s never going to actually seal the deal, you do something to make him dangerously jealous and he realizes he’ll need you to prove who you’re loyal to.

» masterlist

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

The state championship game coming up means there are two sure things you can count on.

One, you have to hold twice as many cheerleading practices to make sure your routines are clean and flawless.

And two, everyone on campus has Rafe Cameron’s name in their mouth.

He’s the starting quarterback, the captain of the football team, the fucking pride and joy of your college. For him, it’s awesome. He loves the attention. As for you, you’ve given up on trying to stifle your eye-rolls any time someone mentions him.

Rafe is the cockiest man you’ve ever known. Your interactions with him have been limited, but telling. He’s been teasing you all season, flirting and acting like he’ll finally put a move on you. But then he never does.

Before every home game, as team captains, you stand first in your respective line in the tunnelled corridor that leads out to the football field. This gives Rafe a nice few minutes to flirt with you and does he love to lay it on thick.

Today, finally, it’s the day of the championship game, and your college is hosting. The campus is buzzing with excitement, colorful signs in the stands, every parking lot full.

You’re waiting in your usual spot. The crowds in the stands outside are roaring and the conversations of cheerleaders and college staff are bouncing around the concrete tunnel.

The players aren’t here yet, but you know it’s only a matter of minutes before Rafe leads them down the hall, pausing next to you, messing with you like always.

It’s almost torment the way he works you up, then does nothing about it. Nonetheless, you look forward to this little routine you two have and hope he puts his money where his mouth is one day.

Rafe lives for the buzz before a home meet. The local fame he amasses, the promise of an hour-long game where he’s celebrated for his aggression, the opportunity to talk to you before he steps out onto the field… it’s electrifying.

When he saunters down the corridor towards you, all height and breadth and fucking ego, his eyes trail down your body like he’s imagining what’s underneath your cheerleading uniform.

“Damn,” he lowly mutters to you. “I swear, that skirt keeps getting shorter.” He leans back against the hard wall, waiting for his cue to rush the field.

“Wishful thinking,” you reply, crossing your arms.

Rafe soaks in the sight of your cleavage, the way your tits press together under your v-neck top when you stand like that. His blood runs hot like it always does when he sees you.

“This is a big game,” he says. He’s rolling his helmet in his big hands, his shoulder pads wide, the red of his jersey somehow making his blue eyes look even bluer. “You shouldn’t be distracting me.”

“Do you ever give it a rest?” you ask. He bites his lip, gaze dropping to your legs.

“We both know you don’t want that.” His smirk is so cocky, his dimples so taunting, that you have to look away from him. He’s almost too hot.

“Got me there, Rafe,” you say sarcastically. When you roll your eyes at him, his dirty mind immediately imagines you doing that from pleasure while he fucks you.

“Good, get used to saying my name,” he chuckles.

“Because I’ll be screaming it later, right?” you quip. “Original.” Regardless, you feel yourself flush a little when you imagine him on top of you.

“I’m just sayin’, be prepared,” he says, amused as hell. The band starts playing the familiar entrance music in the stands, prompting you to get ready to run out.

“You want me so bad, it’s embarrassing.” You kneel over to pick your pompoms off the ground, purposely perking your ass in his direction. He feels his groin tighten at the view.

“I’m not embarrassed,” he says. You meet his eyes and can’t stifle the smile on your face, shaking your head as he pulls his helmet over his head.

Goddamn, he wish he knew if he actually had a chance with you. But he hasn’t ever made a real move, sure you’d reject him in a heartbeat. It’d be too big a blow to his ego.

The game is a close one through all four periods. You and your team cheer on the sidelines as the sun starts to set, trying to weaken the thick tension that stretches across the field.

Rafe plays fast and rough like usual, but you’ve noticed he has a sudden rivalry with one of the opposing players. Every time he gets even remotely close to number 33, who’s clearly been tasked with taking Rafe down, he’s shouting at him or shoving him.

His aggression is hot. Always has been. You look away from the field as if someone can read your mind.

Of course, it’s Rafe’s touchdown that wins the game for the home team. You’re elated, the cheering and applause and energy around you magnetizing.

You and the other cheerleaders storm the field, followed by the marching band and everyone on the coaching team.

In the crowd, you see Rafe with his helmet off, smiling the biggest you’ve ever seen. The stadium lights are strong, washing him in a bright light, showcasing the handsome planes of his face.

“Don’t rub it in, huh?” you hear. You turn to see a player from the other team smirking at you, his helmet hanging off his fingers.

“Kind of my job,” you reply, gesturing to your pompoms. He laughs, nodding as he looks down. Okay, he’s cute.

Rafe’s impulse is to look for you, brag to you about his win and about how you have no choice but to cheer for him.

When his eyes land on you, you’re standing on the field looking so fucking cute with your hip cocked, smiling at…

His blood boils. You’re smiling at another guy. The guy who’s been dogging him and pissing him off the whole game. Number 33. Why the fuck are you smiling at him?

Rafe can’t control himself. He starts to push through the crowd to get you the hell away from that asshole, when the coach stops him, talking to him about their play.

He loses sight of you and it makes every sore muscle in his body tense.

When the team heads inside, Rafe doesn’t even have the patience to peel off his muddy uniform. He leaves his helmet in his locker and rushes out of the room to find you.

He’s pissed off at your lack of loyalty. He’d like to think it’s because he cares about the team that much, but no. You’re his. Some dickhead, especially one on the opposing team, isn’t going to flirt his way into your pants.

When he spots you walking through one of the hallways that surrounds the stadium, he rushes to you and grabs your wrist.

You look up to see Rafe staring down at you with hard eyes.

“Why were you talking to that asshole?” he asks over the sound of the chattering crowds surrounding you.

Excitement burns through you. Is he talking about the player who flirted with you? Damn. He’s jealous. You give him a gratified smile.

“Only asshole I talked to today was you,” you reply.

“What did he say?” he demands, voice low. What’s worse is that you fucking smiled at him, a smile that should only be reserved for him, but he won’t say that out loud.

“He was hitting on me,” you reply, smirking. “Hopefully he’ll actually do something about it. Unlike you.”

Your response throws him for a second. If you want him to follow through, to finally resolve months of sexual tension, he’ll gladly fucking do it.

He angrily yanks you towards him and you allow him to guide you through the throngs of spectators.

Rafe has one thing in mind. He knows where the visiting teams park their bus. And he’s taking you there.

He roughly pushes open the heavy door to the back parking lot, pulling you behind him. The evening air is warm and the area is dark and fenced up and all you can hear is his panting.

Hard hands find your hips and push you against the cold, metal wall of the bus. Rafe’s finally facing you again, his stare penetrating. Your heart is hammering with anticipation.

“You want me to do something about it, huh?” he rasps. He pushes his hips against yours, grinding against you.

“Fucking finally,” you breathe.

His lips are on yours as he huffs a chuckle, unable to believe that you’re crumbling for him this damn easily.

His tongue runs against yours and his body feels so firm, the smell of his sweat musky and so fucking sexy. You feel the bulge of his hardening cock against your groin and you buck against him.

His hand eagerly runs up your thigh, below your skirt. When his fingers press against your cunt, you jolt, your breath stopping for a second.

“You wet for me?” he asks, pads of his fingers pushing up against your entrance. His breath is hot, his nose nudging yours. Arousal coils in your stomach, tight and hot.

You feel so soft and moist through your panties. Rafe knows he won’t be able to simply touch you for much longer. He needs to be inside you.

“Mhm,” you can only desperately hum.

His other hand moves from your hip to your face, squeezing your cheeks together as he looks down at you.

“What’s that?” he asks.

“Yes,” you reply clearly, eyes boring into his.

Excitement pools in you when he moves his hands away to pull down his pants. You eagerly hike up your skirt and yank down your underwear.

It’s so fucking insane to be doing this out here. Someone could come through the door in a second. But the risk of it just adds to the thrill.

You revel in the sight of Rafe’s hard, curved cock in his hand. He’s fucking huge. You can admit the ego is warranted.

Rafe loves your expression, the way your lips are parted in surprise.

“Damn, look at you,” he huffs with a smirk. “You want this dick so bad.”

You eagerly lift your knee for him and he takes the invitation immediately, holding your leg up against his hip.

The feeling of him lining himself up against your cunt is mind-blowing. He pushes into you slowly, every inch feeling better than the last.

“How long have you wanted this?” he grunts once he bottoms out.

“Feels like fucking forever,” you admit breathlessly. “What took you so long?”

“Just be grateful you’re getting it,” Rafe replies. So cocky. Typical.

He pulls back then thrusts into you. Hard. You let out a strained sob and he inhales sharply at how nicely you’re squeezing around him.

“Oh, my God,” you whimper. The leg holding you up is wobbly already, making you grateful his hand is firmly hooked underneath your knee.

“You think that idiot can fuck you like this?” he says, driving in and out of you.

“No,” you say, and you mean it. You’re not sure anybody can pound into you so effortlessly, with so much passion.

You dip your head back, eyes squeezed shut while he fucks you.

“Don’t fucking talk to him again,” he orders, his hand rubbing over your chest and roughly kneading your tits.

This jealousy, this ownership, is so fucking hot. He continues to pull in and out so hard and so fast that you know you’ll be sore tomorrow.

“I won’t,” you promise. He’s so big inside you, stretching you so nicely, that you feel your stomach tightening already. “Shit. I’m gonna cum.”

“Do it loudly,” he says with a self-satisfied laugh. “And say my name.”

You obey, and when the orgasm rocks through you, your blood runs hot and sparks go off through your entire body. Rafe feels you squeezing him even tighter and he groans, cumming inside you in hot waves, twitching.

You bite your lip as he pulls out, feeling aftershocks of pleasure rocking through you.

Realizing what you’ve just done, that you’re in a fully public area, you frantically pull up your panties and readjust your skirt. Rafe looks amused by your nervousness, slowly getting dressed again.

“That was…” you begin, but you don’t have the words. Rafe leans down, capturing your face in his hands again to kiss you deeply.

A loud bang forces you apart. You see a player from the opposing team stepping out the door, trailed by the rest of his team.

A few seconds earlier, and you’d have been mortified. But Rafe takes the opportunity to kiss you again before taking your hand and pulling you through the door, past the group of guys.

“Get home safe,” Rafe mutters to them with a smirk, his tone taunting and entirely disingenuous. He spots number 33 and smiles at him with nothing but contempt.

He squeezes your hand and tilts his head towards you as the two of you walk by the sullen man.

“Looks like you lost,” Rafe half-laughs, very clearly not talking about the game.

thank you to this anon for inspiring this fic! if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

[geltears]

fratboy!geto

cw: college au, masturbation, smut, love confessions, miscommunication

fratboy!Suguru who’s in the most popular frat and on the football team only because his best friend and local campus manwhore, Gojo Satorou, is the captain and head of the frat

Suguru had sworn he knew almost every girl on campus from seeing them enter Gojo’s room at least once but he has no idea who you are when you’re paired together for a Psych research project

“Are you new here? Haven’t seen you in this class before.” And he’d know that you’ve taken this class for 2 semesters if he ever bothered to come to class not hungover.

He pretty much forgets about you after that until Satorou starts eyeing you up in the hall on their daily walk to class and he looks at you, actually looks at you and the frilly dress you’re wearing with your necklace tucked in the same way it was when he talked to you in class.

Suguru doesn’t know what happened to him and why he feels the sudden urge to stake some claim over you. “Hey, we still on to work on our thing at your place right?”

Except, you never had any plans to work on your project but when Suguru grins at you, how could you refuse?

fratboy!Suguru who shows up to your dorm late as hell, still in his football jersey from training, panting with his hair slicked down to his face with sweat. If it were anyone else, he would’ve just skipped the meeting entirely but he thinks he might just have a crush on you.

“What’re you some kinda slut? Why d’ya have a pair of panties like that?” he shamelessly says and points out your lacy thong that you had left out on your bed. He thinks it’s adorable the way you scramble to hide the pink material but he’s already engraved the image into his head.

He doesn’t do much studying or any kind of work (you should’ve known) and somehow weasels his way into your bed.

He’s a great fuck: sweaty toned abs pressing against the back of your thighs as he bends your knees into your chest to drill his thick cock into you. “Hngh Suguru- I can’t take it-“ you’re clawing at his arm and gasping from the stretch.

“You can take it,” he grunts, “C’mon be good for me and fucking take it.”

He’s so big you almost think you’re going to die— die from how good he’s fucking you. You can feel him in your tummy, his fat leaky tip pressing against your cervix as he jackhammers his hips into you with wet plapping sounds as his balls slap against your ass.

fratboy!Suguru who has an almost perfect attendance record this semester because he comes to class just to see you. He's sillier than you would have imagined-- do all football players play footsies under the table?

No, Suguru usually leaves these stuff to Satorou but he loves the way your eyes crinkle up in delight when he makes you giggle.

He chats you up every time you have class, brings you sickly sweet pastries because he doesn’t know what else you’d like and for the first time in years, Suguru feels a connection.

You still get a little flustered when he talks to you because why is he still talking to you when you've already submitted your assignment and he's gotten into your pants?

fratboy!Suguru who finds himself rushing to put in one last word with you after class. He had this all planned out but all he manages is “You coming to the game later?” with a sheepish grin.

And funny enough it’s your first time going to one of these games since you enrolled.

When they win, Geto surprisingly comes running over to you in the front row of the stands, pausing when he realizes he was leaning up for a kiss. He hugs you instead, grinning widely and looking handsome as ever as he pulls you flush to his chest.

It’s perfect until Satorou appears behind him and slaps a hand on his shoulder in that boyish way, sporting his signature toothy smile.

“Is this your girl or something? You’re gonna miss the celebration party.”

“Nah just....a friend,” he clears his throat, “See you tomorrow, ‘kay?”

fratboy!Suguru who ends up leaving the party early because things just don't seem fun when you're not around anymore.

He indulges himself silly and waits til his body is hot with need before heading up to his room to wait off the alcohol.

Suguru finds himself butt-naked, beefy thighs spread wide on his bed as he jerks his throbbing cock and thinks about you. You and your pretty face.

He spreads his pre over his fat tip with his thumb, moaning lowly at the thought of how your fingers would feel wrapped around him. He bites his lip as he thinks about it: your hands would shake as you wrapped around his girth but you'd manage and your small fingers would squeeze and pump his cock expertly.

With a few more lazy twists of his fist around his cock and a strained buck of his hips, Suguru groans out your name and cums in thick, hot spurts all over his chest.

fratboy!Suguru who feels ashamed and acts as if it never happened when he sees you in class the next day. He sits next to you and talks about the usual frat-party shenanigans like you’re just friends.

Because you are just friends, right?

Suguru’s attitude makes you want to curl into a ball and disappear. He makes you feel like a dumb little girl. Why did you think the hot footballer would take you seriously?

fratboy!Suguru who definitely has a huge crush on you and finally works up the courage to ask you out. It’s a shocker but he’s only ever had one girlfriend before and that was in high school and the girl tried to fuck Satorou (who refused).

He gets to class early to wait for you in your usual seats and he’s practically bouncing in anticipation at seeing you. He thinks about how pretty you look when you scrunch your nose in concentration and his cock stirs in his pants.

fratboy!Suguru who spent the whole class on edge and too worried to take notes because you never showed up. He runs faster than he ever has on the field to get to your door and he might’ve broken the door down if you had let him pound it a little longer.

“What? Oh, hi.”

“Holy shit- Where have you been?” he rasps.

He's pushing past you and letting himself in un-invited, burly shoulders shoving you away from the doorway with ease. "Is there something you need?" your words crunch on their way out.

For the first time since freshman year, he finds himself fumbling for his words. "Well yeah- I uh, wanted to tell you something."

Suguru can see the tick in your brow and he thinks it's the first time he's ever seen you get angry.

"I like you," he blurts, loudly and stupidly like he's never talked to a girl before," I like you a lot and I was wondering-"

He doesn't get anymore words in after his embarrassing little confession because you're already leaning up on your tippy-toes to kiss him deeply, small hands coming up to wrap around his neck.

fratboy!Suguru who realises that he didn't kiss you the last time y'all had sex so no wonder you thought it was just a quick fuck to him.

He makes sure to make up for it. That night, Suguru's mouth touches almost every intimate part of your body. He's nothing like how rough he was before. He kisses your inner-thighs and eats your pussy like a man starved, slurping and pulling you down against his face so his tongue can get as far as possible inside you.

He kisses you sloppy after too, your cum still fresh on his tongue and his face still covered in your slick.

Geto has never been this nervous about sex before. He bumps the tip of his cock clumsily against your clit, veiny length throbbing at the sound of your shocked squeal.

He kisses your ankle, spreads your legs wide so he can get a good view of where his cock sinks into your tight cunt and your clit twitches with want. He thinks you're so sexy-- he could cum just like this without moving an inch.

But he doesn't. He steadies his breath and angles his hips to hit your sweet spot, groaning every time you moan from the sensation and clench around his cock.

fratboy!Suguru who kisses your forehead when you wake up in the morning to being pressed against his firm chest, now with the title of his girlfriend.

[leaderwonim]

𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐘 — four: not an ounce of comfort

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. lee heeseung x fem!reader, park sunghoon x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲. Y/N always knew that her high school was dominated by wealth and privilege. Upon having a one night stand with popular athlete Lee Heeseung, she uncovers that Heeseung's friend group controls not only social dynamics but also school policies and local affairs, revealing a hidden world of power and manipulation behind their so called perfectly polished exteriors

masterlist | previous | next

You ended up rushing over to the football field, a blue painted 85 on the side of your cheek.

85 was Heeseung’s number, Giselle had told you because she saw his jersey a couple times while passing the football field.

“Are you wearing a push-up bra?” Giselle asks as she examines your chest area with a quirked brow. “Trying to impress the Mr, aren’t you?”

You roll your eyes, shoving her back jokingly. “Gigi!”

Yujin shows up not a minute later, her honors chemistry textbook in her hand. “Are you wearing a push-up bra, Y/N?”

“Is it so obvious that everybody knows?!” You exclaim, huffing as you crossed your arms.

“Girl, it’s fine.” Giselle pats your back. “Heeseung will definitely like it.”

The coach blows his whistle and the game starts to become upbeat again, the stadium filled with students cheering.

You could see Hanni and Danielle do warm up stretches on the track, and you can’t help but feel a bit of envy towards the two.

They practically had a perfect life.

“Go go go!” You heard the crowd roar, watching as Heeseung runs through his opponents in a flash. “TOUCHDOWN!”

Giselle shrieks, grabbing both you and Yujin—who crinkled her eyes in disgust—in a tight hug.

“Well what are you waiting for?” Giselle screams over the cheering crowd. “Go with him for your project girl!”

You run down the stadium stairs, bumping into Seojun with a pck!

“You’re Heeseung’s partner,” he smirks. “Heeseung’s over there celebrating with the team. I’ll take you to them.”

Although Seojun intimidated you to the max, you knew you were going to do yourself worst if you said no to his offer.

“Heeseung.” Seojun taps on the boy’s shoulder, and when he turns around, you’re almost stunned by his beauty.

Who knew Lee Heeseung in his football jersey would be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Seungie!” Before you could say your greetings, Hanni runs over in her cheer uniform and pompoms, jumping on Heeseung and wrapping her legs around his waist.

He wraps his arm around her frame within seconds, securing her. He gives you an awkward smile, one which you return back.

“I’m so proud of you!” She says after setting herself on the ground again. “You just needed harsh motivation Heeseung!”

He nods, then looks back to you. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah.”

Yeah. Yeah?! Heeseung just asked you a question and all you can say is yeah?

You could already feel his friend group burning holes into your head.

“My friends are coming too if you don’t mind. You know Hanni and Seojun. Danielle and Sunghoon are coming too.”

You grimace slightly, but try not to show it in front of Heeseung.

You were going to be surrounded with them.

When you arrive at his house, your jaw practically drops to the ground. It’s gigantic, almost seems endless with a giant front pool that looked like an Olympic swimming pool.

“Why the long face?” Hanni asks from behind you. “Never seen such a place so nice? Are you one of the scholarship kids?”

You gulp, not wanting to turn around to face her.

“Alright Han, drop it.”

Hanni rolls her eyes at Heeseung defending you. “What? It’s just a joke Heeseung, loosen up.”

All of them drop their bags near the maid, not bothering to look behind them as they settled into Heeseung’s kitchen.

“Do you need help?” You ask the maid. Curse you for being an empath, but you could sense her tiredness.

“It’s alright dear, it’s my job.” She gives you a small smile. “Thank you though. You really aren’t like the others.”

You smile sadly at that, hanging your backpack on one of Heeseung’s hangers instead of letting the maid do it like the rest of them.

“Heeseung! What did your chef make for us today?” Sunghoon leans back against the kitchen island. “Tell me you got oysters, I’ve been craving them.”

Heeseung opens up his fridge, sliding a bowl of raw oysters towards the boy. “Have at it.”

He turns around to you, his eyes holding a warm welcome. “Do you want anything Y/N? Sea moss? Truffle pizza? Wagyu with rice?”

You shake your head. “Water would be nice.”

Hanni can’t help but giggle at your words, leaning against Sunghoon.

You’re sure she’s making fun of you in her head. You’re just sure of it.

“Alright let’s talk about our project.” Heeseung takes a seat next to you. “I was thinking we talk about skin layers, including skin diseases that affect people everyday.”

You nod, listening attentively to his words. “I think that’s a great idea Heeseung.”

Within minutes, you could feel yourself needing to pee, thanks to Heeseung’s fancy water his parents had imported from Erehwon in Los Angeles.

“I’m gonna use the restroom if you don’t mind,” you say to him.

“That’s fine, it’s down the hall. Make a turn to the right when you reach it.”

You quickly walk over to the bathroom, giving a maid a small smile as you passed by her in the hall.

Meanwhile, Hanni pokes at the wagyu on her plate, clearly upset with something.

“What’s wrong pretty?” Sunghoon asks. “I thought you were really happy about the win.”

“I am,” she huffs. “It’s about Heeseung.”

“What did I do?” Heeseung asks, taken aback.

“What didn’t you do?” Seojun laughs loudly at his own joke. “What? It was funny!”

“I mean you’re defending that Y/N girl so hard! You didn’t even laugh at any of my jokes.” Hanni grumbles. “Like what the fuck is your problem? This whole new personality is seriously unlikable.”

The room grows silent, and Heeseung can’t help but let out a loud sigh.

“Look—I’m sorry Hanni, okay? I just don’t want to make her uncomfortable. This project is a huge part of my grade and I don’t want to work with someone that hates me.”

“Whatever.”

You swore the tension in the room could be cut with a knife when you entered, but you didn’t want to mention it.

“Now where were we?” Heeseung says, breaking the silence with a smile towards you.

Oh it was going to be a long night.

AUTHOR’s NOTE: think we can all agree mitski is heeseung’s favorite artist 😭

TAGLIST (closed) @cupidhoons @lilyuwon @soobeboobe @immelissaaa @coqhee @shuichi-sama @ssukiyakii @deobitifull @sunpov @anittamaxwynnn @minjaexvz @katarinamae @capri-cuntz @jooniesbears-blog @sakanelli-afc @lvlyjisung @cherlv @mnxnii @llvrhee @b0bbl3s @lwavander @glxzillx @txtlyn @heartheejake @realrintaro @wonyoungvirus @hyuckies18 @iriroha @jakeyloveer @thinkinboutbin @yoonjise @rikizm @cinnamon-won @samouryed @moon4moony @jakesfurry @yunjinhuhjennifer @viagumi @rikisly @rikisnotforsale @heart4hees @jjklvr9 @loviwon @rik1zzluv @skzenhalove @jaehoonii @j5yy @tnazips @taeyoonga @ezekiel-bublz @jakeyverse @wave2beom @maepjetl @urfavouriteanon

[woso-dreamzzz]

Kid

Arsenal Women x Teen!Reader

Summary: You join Arsenal Women at age sixteen

Moving to England hadn't exactly been your plan when you started to play football.

To be honest, there hadn't been a plan at all, seeing as you were four when your parents first signed you up for your local academy in Sweden. It was just an excuse to keep you out of the house, so your parents didn't have to take time off work to look after you when school finished.

It helped that your school was partnered with the academy so a representative would come and walk all the academy students there and back.

Football may have been a convenience but it was clear to everyone that you were somewhat of a prodigy. Linköping Fc signed you as soon as they could, forcing you to make the move from your tiny town to the city.

Your parents were more than happy to finance the move - the kind of parents that happily parent from a distance but brag to all of their friends about how smart, how talented their daughter was.

You were happy to be rid of them.

You were even happier to get the callup for the National Team for the World Cup.

Your chest thudded in your throat when you received the call. You hadn't thought you would get the call-up, not when you were so young, so you had been at a café with some of your school friends when your phone rang.

You had picked it up absentmindedly and almost passed out from shock when Peter revealed he wanted you on the team.

The World Cup came and went and the bronze medal you won stayed with you. You had flat-out refused to give it over to your parents, who wanted to put it in the trophy cabinet in a house you no longer lived in.

The high of the World Cup bled into the high of getting a call to sign for Arsenal.

You hadn't even really thought about it.

You just accepted.

Which was how you had gotten here, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet as you waited for Stina to lock her car and walk in with you.

●～●～●～●～

You couldn't help but look at your jersey in awe. Your number combined with your last name on the back of an Arsenal jersey felt like a dream come true.

"There she is," Amanda said when you finally wandered into the meeting room, free from media duty. She pushed out a chair that was clearly meant for you at the table she was sitting at.

You sat in the seat awkwardly, suddenly feeling shy and awkward.

"This is y/n," Amanda said to the others, presenting you to them like you were someone really exciting.

"Hi, y/n. I'm Jen."

You didn't tell her that you already knew who she was, who they all were. You just sat there and let everyone introduce themselves to you because that was the polite thing to do.

"Hi."

"You're young, aren't you?" Asked Kim, even though you knew that she probably already knew that.

You nodded though. "Yeah." Your voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm sixteen."

"But she's a superstar." It was nice of Amanda to butt in. It saved you from having to speak.

"I think we know that," McCabe said with an eye roll," I think we all saw that match-winning goal against Australia."

You winced slightly as you snuck a glance to McCabe's other side where Catley sat, the very defender that you megged before scoring your goal.

Your eyes widened in horror when she made eye contact. "Sorry." You looked down at your lap, hiding your shaking hands under the table.

"Don't sweat it, kid," Catley replied with an easy grin," No hard feelings. It was a good call." She smirked at you. "Though, the deer in headlights look you had after it went in was pretty funny."

Laughter rang out through the group and you relaxed marginally, groaning at the reminder. Everyone you knew had sent that picture to you and you knew for a fact that it was still circulating the internet as a meme.

●～●～●～●～

It was easy to settle into life at Arsenal.

You were still shy and awkward off the pitch but you fit in well with the other girls and Lina, Stina and Amanda were always ready to sweep you away when they noticed you getting too overwhelmed.

Somewhere along the way Catley became Steph and McCabe became Katie.

You weren't really sure when that happened but it was a welcome change from when you first joined.

"Come on, kid. You've been studying too much," Katie said as an arm dragged you away from your laptop to where the others were playing FIFA.

You were dumped between Less and Vic while Lina laughed.

"She's always studying."

You rolled your eyes. "Just because you don't have to go to school anymore, doesn't mean that I don't."

"Online school isn't really school," Cloe said before swearing when Gio scored another goal," It's like...school without the deadlines."

"Except the deadline is before Christmas," You replied with a huff," I have essays to write, Katie! Let me go!"

"Don't let her go, girls," Katie said from where she was curled up with Caitlin.

Alessia mockingly saluted as she bracketed you in her arms while Vic pinned down your legs.

"Less! Vic!" You squawked as you tried to wiggle away from them.

Their holds were unrelenting and made even worse when Kyra popped up out of nowhere, digging her fingers into your side and tickling you like you had personally offended her or something.

"Stop! Stop!" You laughed, tears running down your face as Kyra remained unrelenting. "Cait-Caitlin! Caitlin, help!"

Caitlin looked at you thoughtfully, humming to herself before giving you a faux look of sympathy. "Sorry, y/n, I can't. You see, I'm still holding a grudge against you for grabbing that bronze medal." She winked to let you know she was joking.

"Oh, come on!"

●～●～●～●～

It took you nearly two weeks of being in London to meet the ACL squad and it was only because Kathrine slid in for a tackle at the wrong time and hit your ankle.

You hadn't even been on the ground for that long but it was enough that Jonas sent Gio to take you to the physios to get it taped up with an extremely apologetic Kathrine following after you.

"I'm so sorry," She was saying when Gio shepherded you into the room," I'll make up for it. How does one of those big jelly baby packs sound?"

"I'm not allowed to eat them," You replied," Stina said that they'll rot my teeth."

"Fine, fine, I'll think of something. How about dinner? I'll buy you dinner for your cheat day. Just tell me when."

You rolled your eyes, having no intention of doing so but still nodded.

"What's up with all this commotion?"

You had to admit, seeing Leah Williamson in person made you feel a little starstruck and you immediately retreated into yourself.

Gio jerked her thumb at Kathrine. "Kuhl hurt the kid and seeing as we need the kid, Jonas wants her ankle taped."

"My ankle's fine," You said stubbornly but allowed a physio to usher you onto the bed between Goldie and Wienriother. You gave them both one of your trademark awkward smiles as you let the physio pull off your boot and socks.

You didn't want to look at your ankle, already knowing it was bruised by the way that you saw Goldie wince sympathetically at you while the physio moved away to grab some ice.

"That looks nasty," She said," Does it hurt?"

"Not too bad."

"I'm Teyah, by the way."

"y/n."

"I know." She smiled at you. "It's nice that there's someone younger than me and Naomi now."

You looked down bashfully. "Happy to be of service."

Next to you, Weinriother laughed. "Don't mind Teyah, she's just glad no one will call her kid anymore. I'm Laura, by the way."

"And I'm Beth!" She leaned over Laura to shake your hand before indicating to where her girlfriend was being worked on. "That's Viv, she's a little prickly sometimes but if you ever need some peace and quiet, I'm sure she wouldn't mind you sitting with her."

You nodded, still feeling a little awkward even though the tension had disappeared.

"You're living with Stina, right?" Leah asked," How's that going?"

"Good," You replied, focussed on the way that the physio was moving your ankle," She lets me play music on the speakers while I study."

Leah laughed. "I live right round the corner. If you ever need a break, feel free to pop in. I reckon I'm more fun than Stina anyway."

●～●～●～●～

You hated asking for help.

You hated it even more when you had to ask for help on schoolwork.

You were smart. You knew you were smart. If there were two things that a lack of parents in your life gave you, it was excellent football skills and the ability to solve your own problems.

But this maths section in your textbook was causing you more pain than a Katie tackle in training ever could.

You glanced around the room. The media room was almost always empty at this time of day - the two and a half hour window between morning training and the gym session.

Almost everyone lived close so headed back home to rest before coming back. Stina had asked if you wanted to head back home with her but you decided not to, needing to finish your maths homework.

Lina had asked if you wanted her to drop you off on her way to her own place as well but you didn't relent.

You hunkered down in the media room with your textbook and, after just over an hour, your eyes stung like you hadn't slept in three days.

You glanced around again and finally swallowed your pride.

"Frida?" You asked the least intimidating person in the room," Can you help me?"

She looked up from her phone. "What is it?" She dragged your textbook towards her. "Oh! I can help!"

Despite her optimism, within a few seconds, it became clear that Frida could absolutely not help you. The more she read through your problems, the deeper her frown got until she was holding a pencil between her fingers and mouthing the question to herself as if that would help her understand.

She looked positively ill when she looked up at you before she cleared her throat. "Lia? Do you know how to do fancy algebra?"

Lia, from across the room, sighed as she approached. "I used to be quite good at algebra," She boasted," What's the problem?"

"Algebra," You deadpanned, shoving the textbook and your notepad at her," Help."

To her credit, she got further than Frida did, jotting down her working out before falling at the last hurdle - just like you did. She frowned. "Give me a second."

She rewrote all of her work but still ended up stumped at the same place as before.

"Kim? Jen? How were you at maths in school?"

Kim and Jen tried to help as well but it was like the blind leading the blind. You were going around in circles.

"When are you going to need this in life?" Kim said, drawing a line through her most reason equation and sighing.

"Unless you want to be an engineer, never." Jen sighed and flipped the book shut. "You don't want to be an engineer, do you, kid?"

"I'm happy playing football."

●～●～●～●～

If you weren't doing schoolwork at every spare moment, it was safe to say that you napping.

Back at National Camp, it wasn't uncommon to find you curled up in bed or with your head in Frido's lap while everyone watched a movie.

It seemed that your need to nap every moment you weren't occupied had carried over to England.

It got a little embarrassing the first few times you had been caught napping in the communal space. It was even worse when you woke up to Viv staring down at you with an unreadable look on her face, taking in your form curled up under your travel blanket.

You had smiled nervously as she stood in front of you, unmoving.

When Beth appeared through the door a moment later, Viv shushed her sternly and tucked your blanket up over your shoulders again, taking a seat nearby with a book.

Beth, it seemed, hadn't been able to keep her mouth shut about it so your constant naps had just become an expected thing and, after Leah had accidentally woken you up and gotten yelled at by Viv for it, the team tended to just leave you alone.

You were slightly delirious and warm when you woke up from your nap, eyes fluttering open and then shut again.

The low murmur of chatter let you know that contrary to when you started your nap, you were now no longer alone.

You were still quite confused, brain still thick with sleep, but you could recognise Sabrina's Canadian-accented English so you gathered that the keepers had finished their morning practice and had found you asleep in the media room.

You also recognised that your head was now slightly elevated so one of them must have moved your head into their lap while you slept. That was nice. Sometimes you would wake up with a crook in your neck from sleeping on the beat-up sofa that Leah swore she was one bad back away from replacing herself.

Your eyes fluttered open again, blearily blinking.

Across from you, Naomi laughed. "The kid's awake."

"I'm not a kid," You said stubbornly even though you were," You're not that much older than me."

"Still older," Naomi replied.

Next to her, Sabrina laughed.

That meant that Manu was sitting with you, your head in her lap. She laughed as well, jolting you slightly as you clutched your travel blanket tighter around your body.

You yawned.

"How long until gym?"

"Hour and a bit," Came Manu's answer.

You hummed and yawned a second time.

"Don't tell me you're going back to sleep," Sabrina said.

"Fine. I won't tell you."

●～●～●～●～

You spent the first few matches stuck on the bench.

You were young and not as experienced as your teammates so it made sense that you would be stuck there for the time being. Besides, it made you feel a little bit better that Kyra was stuck on the bench as well so you had someone who acted younger than you to muck around with.

"Chin up," Laia said with a grin, an arm thrown over your shoulder as she walked onto the pitch with you for warmups," You're starting today. Aren't you excited?"

"You look more excited than me," You replied a little sourly," I...I feel a little sick if I'm honest."

"You'll do great."

"So long as you tie your boots correctly and don't trip," Noelle said in way of greeting.

Your cheeks lit up in flames instantly at the reminder of training a few days ago when Beth had snuck up behind you and made a stupid sound in your ear. You had jumped into the air in shock and your laces weren't tied correctly so you tripped over your own feet and went tumbling to the ground in a way that made you look clumsier than Alessia.

"Don't be mean," Lotte chastised as the four of you passed a ball around," y/n knows how to properly tie her laces." She sent you a teasing smile and a shrug. "Besides, I'm sure she'll have some of the older girls lining up to make sure they're done properly."

You huffed as you kicked the ball back to her. You spun on your heel. "You're all mean," You declared," I'm gonna warm up with Vic and Less."

●～●～●～●～

The ninety minutes of your debut match were gruelling.

The ball went back and forth between the teams. Every shot that went in was equalised quickly. Everyone was growing tired, especially when five minutes of extra time was awarded and Katie was one dirty tackle away from earning herself a yellow card.

You took a moment to catch your breath, pulling up your socks before breaking into a sprint.

The opposing team's defence was in shambles and you could see their goalkeeper getting antsy.

A long ball from Katie fell neatly into Alessia's feet and she began her run.

You followed after her quickly as the opposing defence broke their line. It was carnage for a moment as you both approached the box.

The goalkeeper came off her line ever so slightly as the defence mobbed Alessia, who passed quickly to you.

Your foot moved automatically as you chipped the ball over the goalkeeper's head and into the back of the net.

Your instincts got you the goal so when your brain finally caught up, you were sporting the same look on your face as the one you had when you won against Australia.

The final whistle rang out as you stood there in shock.

Half a moment later, the team crashed into you.

Less made it to you first, pulling you in for a tight hug before everyone else converged on you.

You felt a bit like a dog, with the amount of head pats you were receiving but the blinding smile on your face more than made up for it - especially when Viv meandered over and gave you a hug and congratulations.

"Come on, l/n!" Katie cheered as she dragged you through the victory lap. "Party tonight! I'll pay for the drinks!"

"She's sixteen," Lina reminded her.

"I didn't say we had to go out to a pub! It's legal for sixteen-year-olds to drink at home! What do you say, kid?"

You laughed. "Good luck getting Stina to agree."

[bluelockmaniac]

⊹ ࣪ ˖𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓-𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄

↳ "a cute first encounter which leads to a romantic relationship later on."

ITOSHI SAE'S ONE-SHOT VERSION !

↳ not recognizing the renowned player piques his interest in you <3

click here for the bllk various version .

each early morning, before practice, sae made it a habit to stop by the local cafe for a cup of freshly brewed coffee. it was a routine he followed to keep himself awake from either the tedious interviews his manager always nags him about, or the unexciting plays his teammates offered. but today, this conventional drill would deviate from its norm. 

as usual, he ordered the pungent drink and stepped out of the establishment to continue on with the events his day promised, only to abruptly collide with you, splattering warm coffee all across his jersey. you were running at a fast pace, late to work for the second time this week, and you definitely did not want to face your manager’s scolding again.

for a moment, he stood there, stunned, blinking at the spreading stain. slowly, his gaze lifted to lock on your frantic, worried eyes.

“i’m so sorry, sir!” you stammered, quickly pulling out a handkerchief to absorb what you could of the bitter liquid, completely oblivious to the name on his jersey. perhaps he was a really big fan of some bigshot football player, you assumed. “i wasn’t paying attention– you see, i’m late for work and—”

“it’s alright.” he retorted calmly, though a very subtle hint of annoyance laced his words. he gently pushed your hand away from his chest and sent the now empty cup flying into the distant trash can with his foot.

your wide eyes sparkled in amazement as he made the shot. “woah, sir, do you play football? you have a really good aim! is the player named…” you made a quick loop around him to check the back of his jersey, “...‘sae’, your inspiration?”

sae lifts a brow, surprised by your lack of recognition. it was not often that he met someone unaware of japan’s prodigy player, who had made a significant name for himself in spain. nonetheless, you had certainly made quite an impression on the professional player— and he was rather fond of it. however, he wasn’t about to conceal the fact that he was the owner of the name on his jersey.

“i am sae, dumbass,” he points out.

“who?” you inquired innocently, your attention focused more on his striking features than the insult he had just thrown your way. if there was such an attractive, famous young man (despite his foul tongue), you would have known him by now. but, you decide to shoot your shot anyway; it would be a waste to let go of such a handsome guy.

“also, is it possible if i could get your number?” you asked almost flirtatiously, before realizing the awkwardness of the situation. “i mean, i’d love to, uh, pay you back for the coffee you spilled.”

“hmm?” he glanced at your uniform, then pulled out a small piece of paper from his pocket with a sigh. “you’ve done nothing to make yourself worthy of having my number.”

“–wait, i really do apologize for spilling your coffee, sae—”

“but,” he pauses, handing you the paper with a shrug. “you ought to keep me entertained.”

with a final glance at your love-stricken expression, he turned on his heel and disappeared around the corner. with your heart racing, you eagerly smooth out the crumpled paper and scan its contents; itoshi sae’s neatly written phone number. you actually received the aloof man’s contact! but… 

you were fired. well, this should be enough to keep him entertained, right?

© 2024 bluelockmaniac — do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform !

[alotofpockets]

In the moment | Keira Walsh x Reader

Where you celebrate Keira's Champions League win on the pitch with her

A/n: @scribblesofagoonerr thank you for your help with the pictures!!

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.5k

-----

Football had never been amongst your interests, but that all changed two years ago when Keira moved into the apartment next door to you. You met her on the day she moved in after one of her boxes had broken open and its contents spilled in your shared hallway. 

“Hey, dejame ayudarte con eso.” You told her as you pulled your front door close behind you. The box was done for, so you each carried her stuff inside and placed it in the empty living room. 

“Thank you so much for your help-” Your new neighbour started, “Y/n, and not a problem at all.” She smiled at you, knowing that she would have someone close by who spoke english. “Keira.” You shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you Keira, need a hand with the rest of the boxes?” 

Your trip to the grocery store was completely forgotten as you got to know Keira. She told you that she just moved from her home country to Barcelona to play football, and that the club was a huge help in helping her find her way around. Still she gladly took your offer to help her out with some local places that were great to get her apartment ready. 

The two of you got close quite quickly, and soon you found yourself on the couch watching her matches, and it didn’t take much convincing to get you to come to a match. You met a bunch of her teammates after the game, and even when the two of you hadn’t known it yet, they had immediately seen that the two of you would end up together.

Much to her teammate’s delight the two of you quickly figured out your feelings for each other. You got into a relationship a few months after she had moved in next door. Keira had been in a relationship with a fellow footballer before, and was all too familiar with the way people would invade her personal life, and criticise every small thing about her, and the person she was with. So, from the beginning she had been open about wanting to keep the relationship away from the public.

You talked often about what that meant for you, and were open about your feelings on everything. Eventually you decided on keeping your relationship private, but not secret. Your friends and family all knew about the two of you, and so did a lot of the public, but you decided to not share a lot of your relationship on the internet, and that worked for the both of you.

Keira would post one of her insta dumps and have you in one of the pictures without tagging you, or one of her teammates would show you in the background of a picture that they posted. It didn’t take long for fans to catch on and find your profile, but since you kept your profile private, all it meant was that you’d get a ton of follow requests.

You supported Keira in her matches, whether that was from the comfort of your now shared apartment, or in the stadium stands. While football outside of Barca or the Lionesses still wasn’t your thing, you gladly spend your free time watching your girlfriend play the game that she loved.

Just like those matches, you had watched every single match that led her team to the champions league final. The morning of the Champions League final, you met up with Keira’s parents at the Bilbao airport, them flying in from the UK and you from Barcelona. 

You spend the morning exploring the city, and enjoying some food, before you head to the stadium. The closer you get to the stadium, the more football fans you come across. The streets were filled with Barcelona and Olympique Lyon jerseys. 

The stadium filled with over fifty thousand fans, all eagerly waiting for kick-off. The crowd was loud when the players entered the field for their warm-ups, a sneak peek into the electric vibes the stadium would be filled with for the rest of the night. 

Keira was in the zone, warming up, when Alexia pointed you out in the crowd. You saw her searching until her eyes finally met yours. Her focussed expression changed into a bright smile as she waved to both you and her parents. She noticed you were wearing a Barca jersey. You smiled and turned to show her the back, her name and number on the back. 

Seeing you wearing her jersey meant the world to her. Some of her teammates had noticed Keira looking out into the crowd with nothing but love and noticed the sweet moment. Aitana threw her arm around Keira’s shoulder. “Extra motivation, no?” Keira nodded before she continued her warm ups with the team. 

By halftime it was clear that both teams really deserved to be in the final, both teams had chance after chance on goal. Still the full forty five minutes went by without any goals. Both teams were playing well. Keira was playing amazing, setting up many of the chances for her teammates. 

Then finally the deadlock was broken. Keira and Aitana were passing the ball back and forth and then Aitana ran off with it, walking the ball to the left side of the goal and hitting the back of the net. The crowd erupted in cheer as Barca took the lead. You were off your seat celebrating with the rest of the Barca fans. Keira’s name would go in the books for the assist, and you could not have been more proud of her in that moment. 

Of course, breaking the deadlock meant that Lyon started fighting back even harder. The stress of Lyon inching closer and the excitement of Barca almost scoring, made Tracy grab your hand. The back and forth between the teams was truly nerve wracking.

Keira had played a full ninety minutes when she got subbed off for Alexia, as well as Claudia coming on for Mariona. You clapped for them both, they had played an amazing match, and had both been big play makers.

Just four more minutes of added time on the clock. Again Barca moved forward with the ball. The three of you were on your feet as Claudia passed the ball to Ona. Ona got tackled to the ground but got up quickly again as she got the ball back. 

Tracy was squeezing your hand tight as Claudia got the ball back from Ona again. Claudia kept moving up with the ball, and sent the perfect assist to Alexia. Alexia hits the ball with her first contact and it flies into the back of the net.

The excitement of a second goal this late in the match had all three of you jumping into each other’s arms. They had done it. There was no way that Lyon was going to come back from a 2-0 deficit in less than two minutes. 

Every player and staff member on the bench was celebrating the goal from the sidelines. The moment your eyes met Keira’s, tears sprung into your eyes. Tracy puts her arm around you and pulls you into her side. 

Then finally the whistle blew and it was official. Barca won the Champions League. The whole team ran onto the pitch, forming one big huddle of excited champions, as the crowd around them went crazy. You hugged both her parents, all of you so proud of Keira and the team. 

You watched with pride as the girls got their medals, and lifted the trophy together. The happiness and pride on their faces, made the scene in front of you at least ten times better. 

Everywhere around you players brought their families and partners onto the pitch. When Keira noticed, she rushed towards your section. You had just helped Peter over the railing, when Keira fell into his arms. “You did it, my girl, I am so proud of you.” You heard him say, while you helped Tracy over the railing as well. 

She joined her husband and hugged her daughter tight. You watched the three have their moment with a smile on your face. This was exactly what Keira deserved. Not just the win, but the win accompanied by the love of her family. 

When she stepped out of the hug with her parents, she turned to you and held out her hand. You didn’t hesitate one moment, and reached for it. She helped you over the railings and once you were, she hugged you tight. “You were incredible. I am so proud of you.” You whispered into her ear as she held onto you. 

In the moment, all you cared about was celebrating with your girlfriend, her family, and her teammates. You were proud of her, and no amount of watching eyes was going to stop you from showing that.

-----

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[yameoto]

stoner!ali x cheerleader!reader. everybody says to stay away from the miller dyke in the muddy jeans and flannel over her hoodie, walking around with a perpetual cig in her mouth, lighter in her pocket. some of them are scared of her. as if they don’t give her shit for just existing. it’s been happening for so long she couldn’t give a fuck, anymore. she ditches half the time, anyways. as far as most people go, she’s invisible.

you, though. you’re curious. you’re supposed to be watching your boyfriend’s football practice, like a good, supportive girlfriend. but really, you’re watching the local burn out toke it up under the bleachers. entranced by the smoke pouring from her lips, the sheen over her eyes, the upwards angle of her jaw as she takes a lazy drag.

when you first approach her, alison’s wary. because what does a pretty little cheerleader like you want to do with a social outcast like her?

“you know what? to hell with it.” ali snorts, and then you’re crammed in the shotgun of her pickup truck and hightailing it out of the school parking lot. pulls over, some halfway deep in the forest, and for a second you think oh, fuck. the rumours are true. this bitch is crazy. except, then she just pulls out a tightly-packed joint and offers it up, grin lopsided. at your expression, her eyebrows shoot upwards.

“don’t tell me i’m takin’ your pot virginity, sweetheart.” then, at your ensuing, flushed silence “oh, shit. i am, aren’t i?”

“well, you don’t have to sound so smug about it.” you snap, snatching the thing out of her hand as she whistles lowly.

“your daddy gonna get me trouble for this?” ugh. she’s so snarky. you almost regret getting in the car with her, cuffing shoulder with a scoff, as she just throws her head back and laughs, deep and throaty and it sparks something burning in your gut. her eyes are on you, posture opening up as she settles into this new, new dynamic. you struggle to flick the lighter thrice before you finally succeed. your warning glare is enough for her no to comment, hands raised in mock submission.

it takes approximately seven minutes of hotboxing, before you’re throwing yourself in her lap. her hazy eyes widen when you straddle her. fist her collar and seize her in the sloppiest kiss of your life. her lips part, speechless, and it’s when your tongue slips it’s way into her pliant mouth that she pushes you back.

“don’t you got a boyfriend?” she croaks, like it matters. her voice is all hoarse, fingers twitching like she’s itching to yank you back, despite being the one to push you away.

you do have a boyfriend. he’s the quarterback. how cliché could you get? nobody’s going anywhere in this town, anyways.

“yeah,” you gasp, hands tugging on her collar again, impatient, lungs burning, eyes glassy. “got a problem with that?”

there’s a war in her eyes, for a split second, before she grunts, and then her hands seize your ass under that tight little skirt of yours and pulls you even flusher against her lap. your boyfriend’s a dickhead to her, anyways. what better vengeance than fucking his girl in the middle of his precious football game?

so, she does. fingers sliding up and dragging away panties with deft precision, for how stoned she is. mutters, “jesus, you’re the hottest piece of ass til’ the next county.“ in your ear as she stretches you wide open with her fingers, free hand groping your ass as she nuzzles between your tits like she’s starved. the windows are already fogged up, which means—when your legs kick high on either side of her body, and she jerks her fingers the same time her teeth tug at your nips—she could give less of a shit when you splatter all over her car window. moaning so fucking loudly, because you’re in the middle of the woods in alison miller’s pickup truck and your pretty pussy has never been treated quite so good before.

(when the clarity sets in, and the high starts to fade. you’re collapsed against her sweaty, shirtless form, and you peel a stray hockey jersey off the back of the seat, elbow knocking against discarded cigarette packs and empty beer bottles. a poorly concealed bong.

“do you clean, ever?” you grumble, into ali’s collar. a low rumble comes in her chest, amused, as she plucks your soaked panties and dangles them up in the light.

“hey, i didn’t expect to be gettin’ cheerleader pussy, today.”

you swat her hand down with a hiss. and she ducks away, laughing that stupid, raspy, butterfly-inducing laugh. maybe the millers aren’t so bad.)

[virgoilluminati]

Heyyyyyy,

Can I request a Jude imagine where you attend the match where he does his bicycle kick and you’re just so proud of him ? Established relationship

Thank You

The Final Frame

A/N: i remember watching jude scouring that against slovakia and screaming so loud in the pub it was sooo embarrassing 🙈 ✨Apologies this isn't my longest fic, but i lowkey really love it.

Inspo: You and Jude have been together for two years after you helped treat one of his teammates, as the local surgeon. Despite this, you have never been to a single one of his games, as you barely get time off. One day you decide to surprise him with tickets to the semi finals of the champions league and scores the best goal of his career.

The stadium was a cauldron of noise, filled with tens of thousands of passionate fans. The air buzzed with anticipation as Jude's team prepared for their critical Champions League match. The match had been marked on calendars across Europe, but it held a special place in the heart of one particular spectator.

As a surgeon, you had spent countless nights in the operating room, your hands saving lives and mending broken bodies. Your demanding career often kept you from attending Jude's matches, despite the years you'd spent together. But tonight was different. You had managed to clear your schedule, and for the first time, you found yourself in the stands, eager to witness your partner in his element.

You had kept your visit a secret, not wanting to add any pressure on Jude. His focus needed to be entirely on the game, not on the fact that his significant other was watching from the stands for the very first time. As the crowd roared and the players took their positions, you scanned the field, your eyes locking on Jude. His presence was commanding, his focus unwavering. This was where he belonged.

The stadium was a sea of colors, the team’s vibrant jerseys blending with the scarves and flags of the fans. The air was electric, charged with the energy of thousands of voices chanting and cheering. You took a deep breath, the scent of fresh-cut grass and the faint tang of sweat filling your senses. This was a world so different from the sterile, controlled environment of the hospital. Here, everything was raw and alive.

The game began with a blistering pace. You watched in awe as Jude moved across the field with grace and precision. Every pass he made was calculated, every movement purposeful. He was a maestro, orchestrating the flow of the game with a skill that left you breathless. It was one thing to hear about his prowess on the field, but to see it in person was something else entirely.

It was two years ago when you first met Jude. You had just finished a grueling 14-hour surgery and were grabbing a quick coffee in the hospital cafeteria. The cafeteria was nearly empty, the only sounds the hum of the vending machines and the distant chatter of nurses finishing their shifts. You were exhausted, your mind still buzzing from the intensity of the operation. You had just saved a life, but the weight of the responsibility always left you drained.

Jude had been there visiting a teammate who had injured himself during a match. He was sitting a few tables away, and you noticed his easy smile and the way his eyes lit up when he talked about football with his friend. Despite your weariness, you couldn't help but notice how his presence seemed to brighten the room.

"Hey, do you mind if I sit here?" he had asked, holding his coffee.

"Sure," you replied, too exhausted to care about small talk.

He sat down, and for a moment, there was silence. Then he started talking, and you found yourself drawn into his world. He spoke about his passion for the game, his dreams, and his fears. You listened, fascinated by his dedication and drive.

"You must have a really interesting job," he said, glancing at your scrubs.

You smiled wryly. "It's definitely not boring. I'm a surgeon."

His eyes widened with genuine interest. "Wow, that's incredible. It must be so rewarding, saving lives every day."

You shrugged, a modest smile on your face. "It has its moments."

You exchanged numbers that day, thinking it would be nice to have a friend outside the hospital. What started as casual conversations soon blossomed into something more. Late-night phone calls, stolen moments of time together, and shared dreams brought you closer together.

Your heart raced with every near miss, your hands gripping the edge of your seat. The tension was palpable, each moment hanging in the balance. Jude was everywhere, intercepting passes, setting up plays, and directing his teammates. His passion and determination were evident in every stride he took.

As the match wore on, the score remained deadlocked. The stakes were sky-high, with both teams desperate to secure their place in the next round. Your nerves were frayed, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the field. In the final minute, with the game seemingly destined for a draw, Jude made his move.

You remembered the night before your biggest surgery yet. You had been a bundle of nerves, unable to sleep. The surgery was a complex procedure that would test every bit of your skill and knowledge. The clock read 2:00 AM, and despite the late hour, Jude had stayed up with you, talking through your fears and offering words of encouragement.

"You're going to be amazing," he had said, his voice steady and reassuring. "You always are."

"What if something goes wrong?" you had whispered, voicing the fear that had been gnawing at you.

He had taken your hands in his, his touch warm and comforting. "Then you'll handle it, just like you always do," he had replied. "You're one of the best surgeons in the country. You've got this."

He had then shared a story from his own life, a time when he had been under immense pressure. "It was my first big match with the national team," he said, his eyes distant as he recalled the memory. "I was so nervous I could barely think straight. But my coach pulled me aside and told me something that I've never forgotten. He said, 'Nerves are just a sign that you care. Use them to fuel your performance.' And I did. We won that match, and it was one of the best games of my career."

Those words had given you the strength you needed, the reminder that you were capable of overcoming any challenge. You had gone into that surgery the next day with a renewed sense of confidence, and everything had gone smoothly, just as Jude had predicted. Afterward, you had felt a sense of accomplishment that was indescribable, a feeling that Jude had helped you achieve.

A cross came in from the right, the ball arcing through the air towards the penalty box. Jude's eyes never left it. He leaped, his body twisting mid-air in a perfect bicycle kick. Time seemed to slow as his foot connected with the ball, sending it flying towards the goal. The stadium fell silent, the collective breath of thousands held in anticipation.

The ball sailed past the outstretched hands of the goalkeeper and into the net. For a moment, there was stunned silence. Then, the stadium erupted. The noise was deafening, the joy palpable. Jude had done it. He had scored the winning goal, securing his team's place in the next round of the Champions League.

You leaped to your feet, your voice joining the chorus of celebration. Tears of pride and joy filled your eyes as you watched Jude being mobbed by his teammates. He looked up into the stands, his eyes searching, and for a brief moment, they found yours. You weren't sure if he recognized you amidst the sea of faces, but you hoped he felt your pride and love.

After the match, you made your way down to the players' area, your heart still pounding with excitement. The halls were a maze of concrete and metal, the noise from the stadium a distant roar. When Jude finally emerged, his face lit up with surprise and joy at the sight of you. He rushed over, sweeping you into his arms.

"You came," he breathed, his voice a mix of disbelief and happiness.

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world," you replied, holding him close. "You were incredible, Jude. I am so, so proud of you."

He smiled, his eyes shining with emotion. "It means everything to have you here. I can't believe you saw that goal."

You laughed, the sound filled with pure joy. "I've always known you were amazing, but seeing it in person... It's something else."

As you walked together towards the locker rooms, Jude turned to you, his face serious. "I know how hard it is for you to get time off. Thank you for being here. It really means a lot."

You squeezed his hand. "You deserve to have someone here for you. You've always been there for me, Jude. This was the least I could do."

[pixiesfz]

100% yes to a steph catley x child!reader series please!

only because you asked so nicely!

steph catley x child! series

plot: when Steph met sunshine

warnings: mentions of death, cancer, Steph isn't with dean atm and a sad beth mead

Steph wasn't planning on having children, at least not yet.

She was planning on finding a partner and then maybe have kids from then on like her childhood friends had done.

But one day she got a call from her agent from Arsenal to go see some of the sick kids at a local hospital with other teammates and that's when she met your sister.

Her room was the only room without hundreds of cards and only a small amount of toys she was way too old for now in her basket.

"Her parents might've cleaned it out" Beth shrugged as Steph, Viv, Stina and herself walked towards the room with a nurse who turned around at her statement.

"Just to warn you" she whispered, her smile she had dropping at the information she knew "This is Lara, her parent's died in a car accident when she was much younger, she's 16 now and suffers from brain cancer"

Steph's heart dropped at the woman's words as she looked up, catching eyes with Lara through the window that separated her room from the hallways.

"How long does she have left?" Beth asked as Viv wrapped her arm around her girlfriend, knowing this could be a soft subject for her.

"It's not looking good and with her only visitor being her sister-" "She has a sister?" Stina asked, her hands playing with her necklace "she’s a little ray of sunshine" the nurse smiled "She's gorgeous and is always putting smiles on everybody's faces when she visits"

The group started walking to Lara's room when Steph heard a childlike laugh through the doors as a little Brunette, just younger than four years old skipped through with a smile and an adult behind her.

"Nurse Cara!" she sang out, her small British accent making Steph smile before she entered Lara's room.

Compared to the other rooms she had been in it was bare but Lara seemed content as she waved to the cameraman who was shooting little things throughout the day.

"Hi Lara these are some of the players from-" "Arsenal I know" she smiled, her dimples appearing "I'm a bit of a fan" Steph laughed "Good I thought you were about to say you were a blue"

"never"

Beth sat on the end of the girl's bed "Did you watch the latest game?" she asked and Lara nodded "Congrats on your come back" she smiled and Steph thought she could see Beth's tears water.

But the room was interrupted by a knock "Sorry to interrupt" a small voice called and Steph recognized it as the little girl who had run in before.

"Hey sunshine" Lara smiled and you ran to her bed, trying to climb up before you gave up and turned to the woman who was sitting next to Lara's bed.

"Can you help me?"

Your voice soft and not at all nervous as Steph looked at you "me?" she asked and you nodded, lifting your arms up for the woman to lift you up onto your sisters bed.

"Sissy!" you squealed, crawling to your older sister who was inside her bed.

At the sight Beth got up, quickly excusing herself from the sight before her tears fell down her face, Viv and Stina following as it left Steph alone with the two girls.

"This is Steph she plays for Arsenal" Lara smiled and you looked at the TV where you would usually watch the football your sister loved so much.

"I like Chelsea" you shrugged and your sister gasped "What?" Steph exaggerated and you giggled, hiding your self into your sister's neck "Has pretty girl name" you continued to giggle.

Steph smiled sadly as she watched the two sisters get along, knowing that you didn't know how much time your sister had left, but Steph did leave with one positive thought that night.

She became a regular at the hospital, sometimes you were there and sometimes she would sit and chat with Lara, bringing her signed jerseys and telling little inside stories, Steph found some comfort in the girl and some of her younger self, especially whenever you came in.

"Lara's the best big sister ever!" you exclaim one night as Lara falls asleep "She's been sleeping a lot lately," you say after with a frown and Steph nods "She just needs some rest," she tells you as you yawned "do you need a rest too?" she asked and you nodded, climbing onto Steph's chair and getting comfortable in her lap, cuddling into her neck as she smiled.

Lara woke up to the sight of Steph holding you, a smile finding it's way to her face as she did.

She knew she didn't have much time left.

"She really likes you" Lara spoke up softly as Steph jolted, thankfully not waking you up "I didn't mean to scare you" Lara smiled and Steph laughed softly

"I remember you telling me she never met your parents properly" Steph said and Lara nodded "she was about two weeks old, my pa's dad was looking after us and they got into an accident on their way to pick us up" Lara told Steph as she nodded

"I'm all she has left" a tear escaped Lara's eye, Steph leaning over to wipe it away "I've been fighting for her but it's so exhausting I'm not sure I can anymore" Lara cried.

And that's when Steph made her first ever promise

"She'll have me."

[taylorswiftstyle]

Chiefs vs Bengals | Kansas City, MO | September 15, 2024

Vintage 'Kansas City Chiefs 1990s Jersey' - no longer available Vitaly ‘Shimmer Chain’ - $120.00 Melinda Maria ‘Julian Loves Diamonds Necklace 16"’ - $118.00 Louis Vuitton 'My LV Chain Earrings' - $625.00 Louis Vuitton ‘Coussin Bag’ - $4,150.00 Giuseppe Zanotti 'Frannie Boots' - $1,650.00

Round two of season two of National Sportsball Observation. Last year, Taylor developed a reliable style playbook when it came to her game day fashion. While I’ve identified some Taylor’s long-standing pillars for her style as a whole, dressing for this specific situation needed its own set of rules. The circumstances created constants (a football stadium) and constraints (Chiefs colours) that her style needed to shift to in order to function. To me, her game day style pillars are women-owned/locally-owned brands, sentimental accessories, and vintage.

Here, we see that third (and, potentially, the first) pillar continue. While they couldn’t confirm it with certainty, Westside Storey - the KC-local vintage store where Taylor has previously picked up Chiefs garb from - did have this piece in their store as of last week. I reached out to Westside Storey and the owner Chris Harrington told me, “We love to see her supporting small businesses already, but the fact that she’s bought from us previously and potentially again? It was surreal the first time, and it’s still just as shocking now!”. I’ve said previously that I’ve loved Taylor relying on vintage pieces as it gives her a non-commercialized and fashionably sustainable way of showing up to these games in her supporting role. Taylor intrinsically understands ‘The Swift Effect’ and the purchasing power of what she wears. Taking this as an opportunity to point towards smaller businesses and continue her long-standing wearing of vintage clothing feels v on brand for her.

Speaking of fashion pillars, one of those aforementioned ones for her style as a whole is repetition. You may recognize these Giuseppe Zanotti boots as Taylor wore them to the Chiefs opening season game against the Ravens last week but in red. A very “if I like it I’ll just get it in a different colour” moment.

A few more style pillars on display for Taylor: repetition and the high/low. You might remember that she wore the Vitaly chain earlier this year to a Chiefs charity dinner and the Louis Vuitton bag from an outing in New York City last week.

Photo by Jamie Squire via Getty Images

[hypnogold]

Crescent High 3

Lukas had only been in the U.S. for a few months. He was used to the European school system, where high school was less about sports and more about academics. But here, in America, things were different. That’s what he liked about it. Crescent High, with its sports teams and school spirit, seemed like the perfect place to finally experience the “high school life” he’d only seen in movies.

On his first day, Lukas walked through the wide hallways, noticing the groups of students milling about, many of them wearing their team jackets proudly. He had always been athletic, but European schools didn’t have organized teams like this. At Crescent High, there were tryouts for soccer, football, basketball—every sport imaginable.

As he passed by the gym, a poster caught his eye: Soccer Tryouts – This Friday. A smile crossed his face. Finally, a way to connect, to belong.

Lukas arrived early, his nerves a mix of excitement and apprehension. He had trained in local clubs back home in Europe, but this was different. The players here were part of something bigger, something that extended beyond just the game.

He noticed how many of the guys had the same gleaming kits—the golden AC Milan uniforms he had seen around the school. They looked powerful, united, and for a moment, Lukas felt out of place in his standard practice gear. He asked if he could borrow a golden kit. Coach approved and gave him a normal golden kit, not yet transformative. He was powerfull on the field.

The coach, Johnson, was already there, watching over the field with a keen eye. As the tryouts began, Lukas quickly proved his worth, his skills standing out. He sprinted down the field, dribbling past the defenders with ease, his footwork precise.

By the end of the session, Coach Johnson approached him. “You’ve got potential, Lukas,” he said, his voice friendly but with an undertone Lukas couldn’t quite place. “You could really fit in here. How about you stop by next week for a meeting with the team? We’ve got some things we think you’ll like.”

Lukas grinned, nodding. It felt good to be noticed.

The Following Week...

Lukas was getting used to life at Crescent High. The cafeteria, the lockers, even the massive gym felt more familiar now. He had even made a few friends. Still, there was something about the golden team members—those guys who wore the shining AC Milan kits. They always seemed so tight-knit, always together, always smiling. It was like they knew something the others didn’t.

The meeting Coach Johnson had mentioned came at the end of the week. Lukas showed up, a little unsure of what to expect. Inside the locker room, some of the team members were already there. They greeted him like an old friend, patting him on the back, giving him compliments on his performance during tryouts.

“Here,” one of them said, handing Lukas a folded piece of clothing. “Coach wanted you to have this.”

Lukas unfolded it. It was one of the golden kits—the same shimmering AC Milan jerseys he had seen so many others wear. His heart skipped a beat. It felt like initiation, like he was finally being welcomed into something bigger. He wanted to be a part of it. But something about the kit… it seemed almost too perfect, too polished.

“Try it on, bro,” one of the guys said with a grin. “It’s part of being on the team.”

Lukas hesitated. “I mean… it looks great, but…”

The team members all laughed in unison, their voices almost synchronized. “Don’t worry, man. Once you’re wearing it, you’ll feel right at home.”

Over the next few days, Lukas kept the kit in his locker, untouched. Every time he passed it, he felt a strange pull toward it. It wasn’t just about fitting in—it was more than that. The jersey seemed to call to him, as if putting it on would make everything fall into place.

At practice, Lukas started to notice the little things. The golden team members seemed faster, stronger, more in sync than the rest of the players. They moved effortlessly on the field, their golden kits shimmering under the sun. And then there were the whispers—rumors about how once you put the kit on, you were changed. Lukas brushed them off, thinking it was just superstition.

But every day, the urge to wear the jersey grew stronger. It started as curiosity, then turned into something he couldn’t shake. And yet, he still resisted. He wasn’t sure why, but part of him felt that once he put it on, there’d be no going back. Coach needed Lukas faster, so he used his secret weapon on him... Now he is one of them.

As the bell rang for lunch, Paxton strolled confidently through the hallway, his shiny metallic gold AC Milan kit glistening under the fluorescent lights. His number, 18, stood out boldly on his back, and the once-nerdy Paxton had become completely unrecognizable. The sight of him made the rest of the school uneasy, knowing that once you wore the golden kit, you were no longer yourself.

Inside the locker room, a group of four students huddled together. They had been part of the resistance, still wearing their blue and white uniforms. Each day, they’d seen more students fall—either after practice or through “accidents” like stumbling upon a golden kit left conveniently in a locker.

“We can’t keep hiding,” Matt, one of the students, whispered. “They’ll find us eventually.”

“Coach threw a kit over the bathroom stall yesterday,” Jake muttered. “It enveloped Dan. He didn’t even have a chance. By the time I got out of there, he was already talking like them—‘bro’ this, ‘bro’ that. And that dumb grin…”

Across the room, Luke, one of their smarter classmates, had an idea. “What if we break into the supply room where they keep the golden kits? We could destroy them, or at least hide them.”

Matt nodded. “That’s risky, but it could work.”

Meanwhile, Paxton had overheard part of their conversation. He smirked and silently slipped away, already formulating a plan to alert the team. He knew they wouldn’t have much time to act.

Later that afternoon, the group snuck into the athletics wing of the school. The door to the supply room was locked, but Luke pulled out a bobby pin, his hands trembling slightly as he worked on the lock. Finally, it clicked open.

Inside, rows of golden kits hung neatly. Their shimmering glow was almost mesmerizing. Jake hesitated as he walked toward them, an odd feeling creeping up his spine. The room smelled faintly of leather and cologne—a familiar scent from the locker room, but much stronger here. His resistance started to waver. “Maybe we shouldn’t destroy them,” he mumbled, almost in a trance.

“What? Are you crazy?” Matt snapped. “That’s exactly what they want.”

Before Jake could respond, the door slammed shut. They turned around to find another Coach standing there, a wide grin on his face. “Going somewhere, boys?”

Luke, trying to keep his cool, stepped forward. “We’re just looking around, Coach.”

Coach’s eyes glinted, and he pulled a golden kit off the rack, holding it out to Jake. “You’ve always been one of my best players, Jake. Why resist the inevitable? This kit was made for you.”

The temptation was too strong. Jake’s hand slowly reached out, brushing against the kit’s smooth fabric. The moment he touched it, his pupils dilated, and a glazed expression washed over his face. He couldn’t stop himself from putting it on. As the shirt slipped over his head, his resistance faded away completely. His back straightened, and when he turned to face the others, his eyes had a faint golden spiral. “Bro, you gotta try this,” Jake said with a wide, stupid grin.

Now let's make you complete Golden Boy. The assistent of coach sprayed Jake, sealing his transformation.

1 week later...

Mr. Jonathan Hale had been teaching history at Crescent High for over a decade. The smell of chalk, the sight of textbooks stacked haphazardly on desks, and the distant murmur of students in the hallway had always made him feel at home. But lately, things had changed. The usual atmosphere of Crescent High was shifting, and Mr. Hale couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

It wasn’t just the students' behavior, although that had certainly become strange. There was something deeper—like an invisible force spreading across the school. He had noticed it first in the small details: students whispering in the halls, odd glances exchanged during lunch, and then… the golden jerseys.

At first, they had only been worn by a handful of students, mostly athletes, but now more and more of his students were coming to class wearing the shiny golden AC Milan kits. The jerseys seemed to exude an aura of confidence, even power. But there was something unsettling about the way the students who wore them acted. Their demeanor had shifted; they seemed almost… too happy, too sure of themselves.

One afternoon, as the bell rang and students filtered out of his classroom, Mr. Hale sat at his desk, lost in thought. That’s when Matt, Luke, and Jake walked in.

Mr. Hale had always liked Matt and Luke. They were bright, engaged, and often stayed behind after class to discuss topics beyond the curriculum. Jake, on the other hand, had recently started acting differently. Once a quiet, reserved student, Jake now wore one of those golden jerseys—his face plastered with an easy grin that never seemed to fade.

“Mr. Hale,” Luke started, nervously glancing at Matt. “We need to talk to you about something.”

The older teacher looked up, curious but slightly apprehensive. “What’s going on, boys?”

“It’s Jake,” Matt said, his voice low. “And the others. There’s something wrong with the students wearing those golden kits. They’re different. We think they’re… being changed.”

Mr. Hale raised an eyebrow, glancing at Jake, who was standing a bit too still, his arms crossed, that familiar unsettling smile plastered on his face.

“Changed how?” Hale asked.

“Bro, don’t be dramatic,” Jake interrupted, his tone casual but with an odd edge to it. “It’s just a uniform, man. We’re all part of the team now. You’ll get it soon.”

The way Jake said it made Mr. Hale’s stomach churn. Something wasn’t right.

Luke stepped closer to the desk, lowering his voice. “Coach Johnson… he’s behind all of this. The soccer team, the golden kits… once you put one on, it’s like you’re not the same anymore. Jake… he was never like this before.”

Matt nodded. “We’ve been trying to resist it, but it’s getting harder. They’re spreading those kits, and more students are getting pulled in every day.”

Mr. Hale leaned back in his chair, his mind racing. He had noticed the change in Jake but had dismissed it as just the usual ebb and flow of high school life. Now, hearing Matt and Luke’s concerns, it all started to click. The golden kits, the changes in behavior, the increasing influence of Coach Johnson… it was all connected.

Hale glanced at Jake again. The boy’s smile never wavered, his eyes gleaming as if he knew something no one else did. For the first time in his career, Mr. Hale felt a chill run down his spine while looking at one of his students.

“You’re saying these jerseys are doing something to the students?” Hale asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

Matt nodded. “It’s more than just a uniform, sir. It’s like… once you wear it, you become part of the team. But not in a good way. You’re not yourself anymore.”

Luke chimed in, “We don’t know how to stop it, but we’re sure Coach Johnson’s behind it. He’s recruiting students one by one.”

Mr. Hale leaned forward, his voice barely a whisper. “And how are you two avoiding it?”

“We’ve been hiding,” Luke said. “We try to stay out of the locker rooms, avoid practice, but they’re everywhere. We don’t know how long we can hold out.”

Matt added, “We thought maybe you could help us. You’re the only teacher we trust. You’ve been here for years, and we know you’ve seen things change.”

Mr. Hale nodded slowly, his mind racing. “I’ve noticed something’s been off, but I didn’t realize how deep it went. This is… this is serious.”

Jake, still standing there, let out a soft chuckle. “Come on, Mr. Hale. It’s not that deep. We’re just evolving, bro. The team’s growing, and soon everyone’s going to be a part of it. You’ll see.”

Hale’s eyes narrowed. He could see now that Jake wasn’t just different—he was completely changed, like someone else entirely. And it was the golden jersey that had done it.

“We need to figure out a way to stop this,” Mr. Hale said, turning back to Matt and Luke. “But we’ll have to be careful. If what you’re saying is true, we can’t trust anyone who’s already wearing those kits.”

Matt and Luke exchanged a glance, relieved that someone finally believed them. But the weight of what they were up against hung heavy in the air.

“We’ll do whatever it takes,” Matt said, determination in his voice.

Mr. Hale nodded. “First, we’ll need to gather more information. If Coach Johnson is the key, we need to find out how he’s controlling this, and how to stop it.”

Jake stepped forward, his grin widening. “You can try, bro, but once you put on the kit, you won’t want to stop it. You’ll love it. Trust me.”

Hale ignored the ominous remark and turned his attention to Luke and Matt. “Stay low. Avoid any situation where they might get you alone. And if you see any more students changing, let me know immediately. We’ll need all the help we can get.”

As Matt and Luke left the classroom, Mr. Hale glanced at Jake one last time. “Jake,” he said quietly, “what happened to you?”

Jake smiled, that same eerie grin spreading across his face. “I became part of something bigger, Mr. Hale. Soon, you will too.”

Matt and Luke hurried to the locker room after their meeting with Mr. Hale. They knew they couldn’t hide forever. The golden team was everywhere, growing larger each day. Their hope now rested in finding out how Coach Johnson and the team were spreading this strange influence—and stopping it.

As they entered the locker room, the tension was palpable. Several golden-jerseyed players were gathered in the corner, whispering among themselves. Matt and Luke stuck to the shadows, watching from behind a row of lockers. They needed to be cautious; any wrong move could get them noticed, and worse—converted.

Then they saw it.

A group of guys from the soccer tryouts had just been called in by Coach Johnson. They were led into the back area of the locker room, where a strange setup had been arranged: bottles of golden deodorant lined up on the benches, their gleaming labels flashing in the dim light. Luke squinted, confused.

“What’s that about?” he whispered.

Matt shook his head. “I don’t know… but I’ve got a bad feeling.”

They watched in silence as Coach Johnson approached the new recruits, all of whom still wore their regular athletic gear. “Alright, boys,” Johnson said with a grin. “Time to welcome you to the team.”

He picked up one of the bottles of golden deodorant, shaking it before passing it to a player standing next to him. “Go ahead,” he urged. “Give it a spray.”

The player, unsure but eager to fit in, pressed down on the nozzle. A thick mist of golden smoke filled the air around him. For a moment, the entire locker room was enveloped in the glowing fog. When it began to clear, Matt and Luke’s eyes widened in shock.

The player’s clothes had completely changed.

His casual practice gear had been replaced by the gleaming golden AC Milan kit, his number clearly marked on the back. His demeanor had shifted too—where there had been hesitation moments before, now there was confidence. He looked around at his teammates, his eyes shining with that same strange glow Matt and Luke had seen in Jake.

“Welcome to the team, bro,” Coach Johnson said, clapping the player on the back.

The player, now fully transformed, gave a slow nod. “Feels right, Coach,” he replied, his voice lower, more relaxed.

One by one, the other recruits followed, each taking a bottle and spraying themselves with the golden deodorant. Each time, the golden mist clouded the air, and when it cleared, their clothes had changed—just like the first player’s. Every new recruit stood there, beaming with the same mindless smile that had unsettled Matt and Luke from the start.

“They’re using that stuff to convert them,” Luke whispered, barely able to contain his horror. “That’s how they’re doing it.”

Matt clenched his fists. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

Back in his classroom, Mr. Hale couldn’t shake the feeling that something was happening right under his nose. As his students filed out for the day, he found an excuse to head toward the athletics wing. If Matt and Luke were right, and Coach Johnson really was at the center of this, then the answers would be in the locker room.

As he approached the door, he heard the familiar sound of laughter—low, confident, the kind of laugh that had become common among the students in golden kits. He pushed the door open slowly, careful not to make a sound.

What he saw inside confirmed his worst fears.

Coach Johnson was standing with a group of students, all of them now wearing the golden kits and blue shorts. They had formed a circle around a new recruit, one of the boys from the soccer tryouts, who was holding a bottle of the golden deodorant in his hand. The room filled with mist again, and when it cleared, the recruit had changed—just like all the others.

Mr. Hale stepped back, heart pounding. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. How could something as simple as deodorant be part of the transformation? It didn’t make sense… and yet, there it was.

Hale retreated from the locker room, his mind racing. He needed to regroup with Matt and Luke. They had to figure out how to stop Coach Johnson, how to stop the golden deodorant from spreading to more students. The school was falling under the influence of the golden team, and if they didn’t act fast, it would be too late.

As he left the athletics wing, he spotted Matt and Luke by the entrance. Their faces were pale, but their eyes were determined.

“We saw it,” Luke said quietly. “We saw everything.”

“So did I,” Hale replied, his voice firm. “And now we know what we’re dealing with.”

Matt nodded. “What do we do next?”

Hale looked back at the locker room, then turned to his students. “We need to find out where that deodorant is coming from. If we can cut off the supply, maybe we can slow them down.”

Luke stepped forward. “And then what?”

Mr. Hale’s eyes hardened. “Then, we figure out how to break this… before it’s too late.”

The atmosphere around Crescent High was growing more intense by the day. The golden jerseys had spread beyond just the students; now even some staff members were wearing them. Mr. Hale couldn’t shake the eerie feeling as he passed the once-familiar faces of colleagues who had recently donned the shiny kits, their expressions vacant and their enthusiasm almost robotic.

The school’s transformation was escalating, and it wasn’t just the students being targeted anymore. Each class gets another colour shorts to know who is who.

Gym teachers GOLD:

Math teachers BLUE:

History teachers BLACK:

Biology teachers WHITE:

Matt, Luke, and Mr. Hale huddled in the history classroom, piecing together what they’d witnessed. “It’s spreading faster than we thought,” Matt said, his voice low. “It’s not just the blue students anymore.”

“They’ve started recruiting anyone who sets foot in the school,” Luke added. “Teachers, janitors, even delivery people.”

Mr. Hale nodded grimly. “The deodorant. That mist—it’s how they’re doing it. We have to move fast. If we don’t, there won’t be anyone left who’s not part of this golden team.”

Mr. Carter

Mr. Hale had always respected Mr. Carter, the math teacher across the hall. He was quiet, always kept to himself, but he cared deeply about his students. So when Mr. Hale saw him walking into the staff lounge wearing one of those golden kits, a sinking feeling settled in his chest.

He had to talk to him.

Later that day, Mr. Hale caught Mr. Carter in the hallway. “Carter,” he called out, his voice hesitant. “You got a minute?”

Mr. Carter turned, and for a brief moment, his eyes seemed to light up in recognition. But then, just as quickly, they dulled again, replaced by that same unsettling grin Mr. Hale had seen so many times before. “Hey, bro!” Mr. Carter said, his voice unusually cheery. “What’s up?”

Mr. Hale’s stomach churned. Carter had never spoken like that. “I wanted to ask you about… your new look.”

Carter chuckled. “Oh, this?” He tugged at the golden jersey, its fabric shimmering under the hallway lights. “Coach Johnson hooked me up. Said it was about time I joined the team. It feels good, man. You should try it.” Blue teacher means Math bro! All the students are now becoming blue students.

Hale’s heart raced. He had hoped that maybe the teachers were somehow different, that they would be immune. But no, Carter was fully under their control now.

“What happened, Carter?” Hale asked, trying to keep his voice calm. “How did you… change?”

Carter’s grin widened. “Coach gave me a little nudge, that’s all. It was during lunch—just a quick spray of some new cologne he said he was testing out.” Carter leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Honestly, I didn’t think much of it at first. But after I inhaled it, everything just clicked, you know? I felt like part of something bigger.”

Hale swallowed hard, realizing the golden deodorant wasn’t just for students. Anyone could be converted. “You don’t… feel any different?”

“Only better, bro,” Carter replied, clapping Hale on the shoulder. “You’ll see.”

It wasn’t long before the golden team’s influence began to spread beyond the school. Delivery trucks rolled in and out of the Crescent High parking lot daily, and the golden team saw an opportunity to expand their reach.

One afternoon, a delivery guy named Mark pulled up to drop off sports equipment for the athletics department. He was a regular at Crescent High, often bringing in boxes of new uniforms, water bottles, and other gear for the teams. He didn’t think much of the kids wandering around in golden jerseys as he unloaded the boxes from his truck.

As Mark was organizing the shipment, a few of the golden team members approached him. “Hey man, need a hand with that?” one of them asked, flashing the familiar grin.

Mark shrugged. “Sure, if you guys don’t mind.”

As they helped him carry the boxes to the storage area, one of the team members pulled out a small bottle of the golden deodorant, holding it discreetly behind his back. When Mark wasn’t looking, he gave a quick spray, filling the air around them with a thick, golden mist.

The transformation happened almost instantly. As the mist cleared, Mark coughed lightly, rubbing his eyes. When he blinked again, his clothes had changed. His usual delivery uniform was gone, replaced by a golden AC Milan jersey, his new number shining on his back. He didn’t even notice at first. But as he stood up straight, the change settled in. His posture shifted, his expression softened into that familiar, vacant grin.

“Bro, you good?” one of the team members asked, knowing full well what had just happened.

Mark blinked, his eyes glowing faintly for a moment. “Yeah, man,” he replied, his voice relaxed and calm. “I feel great.”

The team members laughed, slapping him on the back. “Welcome to the team, bro.”

Mark smiled, completely unaware that just minutes ago, he had been a delivery driver with no ties to Crescent High. Now, he was one of them.

Back in his classroom, Mr. Hale was trying to focus on his lesson plan, but his mind kept drifting back to the growing problem at Crescent High. The golden deodorant had clearly become a tool for mass recruitment, and it wasn’t just affecting students anymore. With teachers like Mr. Carter and even outsiders like delivery drivers falling under its control, the situation was quickly spiraling out of control.

He had to act.

“We need to do something about the deodorant,” Luke said, pacing around the room. “If we don’t stop them from spraying it, everyone’s going to be part of the golden team by next week.”

Matt nodded. “I’ve seen them spray it on guys when they’re not looking. It happens so fast. One minute they’re normal, and the next, they’re wearing the jersey.”

Mr. Hale stood up, his decision made. “We’re going to need help. We can’t do this alone anymore. If they’re targeting anyone who sets foot in the school, we need to find people who haven’t been exposed yet. But more importantly, we need to figure out how to reverse this.”

“But how?” Luke asked. “We don’t even know what the deodorant is made of.”

Hale glanced at the door, making sure no one was listening. “I know a few people outside of school—some old friends from the district. Maybe they can help us get to the bottom of this. But we need to be careful. If we get caught, we’ll end up like Carter or worse—like Jake.”

The three of them nodded, knowing that time was running out. The golden team was growing stronger, and soon there would be no one left who hadn’t been sprayed by the golden mist.

The plan had seemed solid—sneak into the athletics wing, destroy the golden jerseys and deodorant, and stop the transformation before it was too late. But Mr. Hale, Matt, and Luke had underestimated the power of the golden team.

As they crept into the athletics wing that night, the air felt heavier than usual, like the school itself knew what was coming. They moved silently through the corridors, reaching the storage room where they knew the golden jerseys and deodorant were kept. But as they stepped inside, their hearts sank.

The room was empty.

"Where is everything?" Matt whispered, panic creeping into his voice.

"They moved it," Hale said, his face grim. "They knew we were coming."

Before they could react, the door slammed shut behind them. Standing in the doorway was Coach Johnson, flanked by Jake, Mr. Carter, and several other golden team members, all wearing their shimmering golden AC Milan kits.

"You didn’t think we’d let you ruin everything, did you, bro?" Jake said, his voice dripping with confidence.

The Final Confrontation

Hale, Matt, and Luke were trapped, surrounded by the golden team. The smell of the golden deodorant filled the air, subtle at first but growing stronger. Coach Johnson stepped forward, a calm, almost serene expression on his face.

"You don’t get it, do you?" Johnson said softly. "This isn’t about control or domination. It’s about unity. About becoming part of something greater than yourself. You’ve seen it happen to your friends, your colleagues. And now, it’s your turn."

He held up a bottle of the golden deodorant, shaking it lightly. "It’s time to stop fighting and join the team, bro."

Matt and Luke backed away, but there was nowhere to go. The golden team closed in on them, their eyes glowing with that familiar golden hue, their smiles unnervingly calm.

Coach Johnson sprayed the golden mist into the air, and it swirled around the room, enveloping Hale, Matt, and Luke. They tried to hold their breath, to resist, but the mist was everywhere. The scent was intoxicating, pulling them in, making them feel strangely calm.

Matt was the first to fall. He coughed, then inhaled deeply, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. When he opened them again, his expression had changed. His face softened, his eyes glazed over with that same golden glow.

"Bro…" Matt muttered, a lazy smile spreading across his face. "This feels… right."

Hale watched in horror as Matt’s clothes began to shift. His regular school uniform melted away, replaced by the gleaming golden AC Milan jersey. His number—24—flashed across his back. Matt stood up straighter, more confident, more powerful.

"Matt, no!" Luke shouted, but it was too late.

Coach Johnson turned the spray on Luke next, and the mist enveloped him. Luke tried to fight it, but the scent was overpowering. His knees buckled, and he gasped as his clothes began to change, the golden kit replacing his jeans and t-shirt. His number—17—appeared on his back.

Luke stood up, his face slack, his eyes empty. "Bro… it’s good," he murmured.

Mr. Hale was the last one left. He backed into the corner, but there was nowhere to run. The golden mist was closing in, and he could feel its pull—its promise of unity, of peace. He wanted to resist, but deep down, he knew it was over.

"You’ve fought well, Mr. Hale," Coach Johnson said, stepping closer. "But you’ve seen the truth. You’ve seen what we’re building here. It’s time to join us."

Hale’s mind raced, trying to think of a way out, but his body felt heavy, his thoughts clouded by the intoxicating scent of the golden mist. He coughed, inhaling the mist, and for a moment, his vision blurred.

Then, slowly, he felt his body relax. The tension melted away, replaced by a strange sense of calm. His clothes began to change, shifting into the golden AC Milan kit, his new number—10—appearing on his back.

Hale looked down at his new uniform, his heart racing. But even as panic surged through him, a part of him felt… at peace. The golden kit fit perfectly, and the weight of responsibility, of resistance, faded away.

"You’re part of the team now, bro," Jake said with a grin.

Hale looked up, his eyes glowing faintly with the golden hue. He opened his mouth to speak, but instead of words, all that came out was a soft, resigned, "Bro… I am Blue"

Crescent High Transformed

By morning, Crescent High was no longer the school it once was. The golden team had taken over completely. Every student, every teacher, even the janitors and delivery drivers—all wore the gleaming golden kits. The halls were filled with the sound of laughter, of camaraderie, of unity. There were no more outsiders, no more resistance.

Mr. Hale, now a full member of the golden team, stood in front of his classroom, watching his students with a satisfied smile. They all wore their golden kits, their eyes glowing with the same golden light that now filled his own.

"Alright, bros," Hale said, his voice smooth and confident. "Let’s get started."

He no longer felt the need to fight. The golden team had won, and in the end, it felt right. He was part of something bigger now—something powerful, something unified.

As the day went on, the golden mist continued to spread. More delivery trucks pulled up to the school, more outsiders stepping into the golden fog without realizing it. Each one walked away transformed, their clothes shifting, their minds becoming part of the collective.

Crescent High was no longer just a school. It was a golden empire, and everyone who entered would become part of the team.

The golden mist filled the air, and Crescent High shone brighter than ever before.

[kamotecue]

i’m okay when i’m loving you ❖ o. batlle

pairing: ona batlle x reader

another blurb that i saw on tiktok, “it has made me better, loving you.” - grumpy and sunshine.

a soft smile made it’s way to your face as you analyzed the photo album that your girlfriend, ona of two years made. there were several photos of you with a little eye smile, something that only happened when you were extremely happy.

other than that, there were silly photos of you grinning, cheeky smiles, and the grumpy faces you’d make, after a tired or long day.

“¿qué es lo que estás haciendo, amor? [what are you doing, love?]” ona’s voice rang throughout the shared apartment, she settled her training kit near the couch, looking at you with a small smile.

“solo mirando a través de nuestras fotos, amor. [just looking through our photos, love.]” you replied, as ona hummed—sneaking her arms around your waist as her front was closer to you.

“cuando eras mi admirador secreto, ¿verdad? [when you were my secret admirer, right?]” a little chuckle escaped your lips, as ona groaned it was a bit embarrassing as she says—but for you it was so sweet.

you tore your eyes away from the photo album, and turned—so that she could see your eyes. but your lover simply buried her face into the crook of your neck.

“tienes que admitir el amor, esas son fotos lindas. [you have to admit love, those are cute photos.]” you said, slightly teasing her. maybe it’s the way you wanted her to admit it, her secret admirer phase was something you loved.

there was something you loved besides football, and it was none other than—photography. so, when you became closer with ona, you had gifted her one of your favorite cameras.

that’s the one she used to take pictures of you, you didn’t know that she was the secret admirer—because that’s the point for it to be a secret unless she admitted it was her, or—you had found out.

which you did, it was volunteering at a local hospital. you taught them a little bit about football, and while you were in the middle of a story—you looked around to see where your partnered teammate went.

ona was sitting behind the crowd of kids, some were gifted barcelona jersey’s. but you paid attention to how her smile was, how her eyes were set on you. and, you made her a bit flustered when you posed for a picture.

safe to say, she had asked you on a date the day later. that’s were the love story began.

“muy bien, esas son fotos lindas. son los que solo nosotros podemos ver. [alright, those are nice photos. they are the only ones that we can see.]” her implying that it was only for your eyes, and nobody else made you laugh, before giving her a few pecks on the lips.

“me ha hecho mejor, amándote. [it has made me better, loving you.]” a contented smile made it’s way on ona’s face, while you had gotten a bit shy.

after all, you were a troubled girl, with a troubled past. always getting red or yellow cards on the field, similar to a certain irish defender.

but you wouldn’t change a thing.

[daysofyellowroses]

yellow rose

david von erich x afab!reader | 6.2k | 18+ minors dni | tw: language, smoking, mild smut | a reflection on your journey to the altar

so this is a complete and utter work of fiction, based on the very brilliant movie the iron claw. i knew as soon as i watched it i would have stories but i was a little surprised david came to me first. obviously harris dickinson is beautiful but i am down so bad for jaw. i got some kerry ideas too, and i always have a hundred different bear ideas on the go too so more to come | also just to note that because this is totally fictitious, i am choosing to ignore real life events for the most part and live in fanfic delusion. enjoy 🌼

-

It all seemed to happen in a flash.

In theory, you should have been used to it. Ready for it.

One minute you were heading to a local sports center on a work assignment, then in what felt like the blink of an eye, you were walking up the aisle to marry the subject of one of those photos.

But, to get to how exactly you ended up walking down that aisle, you need to go back to how it all started.

Which, like with most things when it came to you,started with a picture.

📷

From an early age, you loved photography. Capturing a moment in time, being able to look at it any time and relive the moment was always a thrill. Your childhood home was full of framed photos and photo albums, a collection of memories surrounding you.

When you turned 13, your parents gave you your own camera. It wasn't anything too technical or fancy, but it was immediately your most treasured possession. You took photos of everything, family occasions, your friends hanging out, nature, snapshots of Dallas.

As you grew older you threw yourself into studying everything about photography, worked an extremely tedious part time job to save up for a real camera, dedicated yourself to honing your skills. It wasn't difficult, your friends and family kept you busy with birthday parties, weddings, christenings, anything worth celebrating and you were there to capture the moments.

When you were in your senior year of high school, you discovered a fondness for a particular subject of your photos. You had been sitting in the bleachers after school one day with your friends, all you of chatting and laughing about something when you'd looked onto the football field and spotted two of the players talking about something animatedly, one of them slapping the other on the back as they laughed. 

You had grabbed your camera, snapping a photo and rolled your eyes playfully as your friends teased you. Sure, the players were cute, but that wasn't why you took their photo. When the shots had developed, you were thrilled that your instinct had been correct. The red of the players jerseys popped, the gold star on their helmets gleaming in the sun. They looked graceful, despite their large frames, natural and charming. 

From that photo, you began to base more of your photos on sport. It wasn't an area you had expected to become interested in, but it inspired your photography. Cheerleaders in perfectly formed pyramids, track stars crossing the line, football players clutching the ball to their chest as they threw themselves across the post.

After graduation, you applied for a journalism course, figuring it didn't hurt to have a backup plan and maybe it would get you a gig as a photographer for a newspaper or magazine. 

Leaving home was tough, especially when a big going away party was thrown for you, your friends and family coming together to celebrate your accomplishments. When the time came to leave you were sure you'd never cried so much, trying to hype yourself up for the adventure ahead.

It was a lot of fun, being at college, as it turned out. Making new friends, learning new things, having new experiences. By the time it was over it felt like you could back and do it all again in a heartbeat.

You decided to move back to Dallas after you graduated. A job opportunity at a big paper came up, and your friend Pam had found an apartment that came with a spare room so it seemed like the right move.

It was about two weeks later you were tasked with going down to the Sportatorium on a Saturday night to document the latest wrestling match. Every time you went to a sporting event for work, you were accompanied by the senior sports writer, Duke. He was older than your father, far too old for his cheap toupee to be even the slightest bit believable. He wore cheap polyester suits, too much cologne and had a fondness for calling you ‘missy’ and placing his hand a little too low on your back.

You had psyched yourself up to ask Pam to come along, preparing a whole speech in your head. If she was with you then you could avoid Duke like the plague, couldn't possibly leave your guest alone. 

Turned out Pam didn't take much convincing at all, in fact she practically jumped at the chance to come along. You tucked her excitement away in your mind, curious to see if the source would reveal itself at the match.

When the day came, you were excited to get some shots of a new sport. From what you'd seen on TV, the Sportatorium was bright and colorful, the wrestlers just as much so. You packed up your camera before getting changed into some jeans and a t-shirt. 

Pam had taken one look at you and marched you back into your room, your protests of “But I'm working!” falling on deaf ears.

A compromise was reached. Your t-shirt stayed but a denim mini skirt replaced your jeans and brown cowboy boots replaced your beat up sneakers. You felt a little ridiculous, your job had you in all kinds of angles and positions to get the best shots, the last thing you wanted was to be unable to get a good picture because you'd end up flashing tomorrow's laundry to thousands of strangers.

When you arrived at the Sportatorium, the sun was dipping below the horizon and what seemed like hundreds of cars and trucks were pulling up. People were grabbing beers out of coolers, blasting music from boomboxes, grilling up hotdogs on portable barbecues. You got a couple of shots before Pam was hustling you inside to get your seats. Well, her seat. You told her you'd meet her outside after the match, not that she seemed to be paying attention, her eyes focused on the empty ring. 

You made your way down to the ring, keeping an eye out for Duke and ready to sprint back to Pam if needed. To your relief, Duke wasn't in attendance. The junior sports reporter, Brian, had been sent in his place. The two of you weren't exactly close friends but he was much more professional. You got some shots of the crowd, feeling excited to see a match live. The atmosphere in the stadium was electric, like something incredible was about to happen. 

When the announcement came for the first tag team, you got some shots of them walking through the tunnel and into the ring, holding their arms in the air and greeting the crowd. Brian walked around the ring slowly, scribbling into a notepad, cigarette perched behind his ear.

Then they announced the next tag team, and you moved to the opposite tunnel to get shots of them. You took a breath as you snapped a shot of the taller one, his wavy blonde hair peeking out from under his back cowboy hat. He was wearing a leather jacket that he promptly tore off before he got into the ring, his back muscles rippling. 

You cleared your throat, taking more photos and trying to concentrate on what you were there for. 

The bell rang, and once the match started you had no shortage of great photo opportunities. The men in the ring moved with perfect proficiency and style, playing up to the crowd and putting on a spectacular show. You found yourself more and more drawn to the tall blonde, David Von Erich, you discovered. 

He was so graceful yet could have these huge men slammed onto their backs, his arms bulging and a cocky grin on his face. Once or twice you could have sworn he caught your eye and winked at you but you were sure it was your imagination. 

The Von Erichs won the match, you snapped a photo of the referee holding up the brother's hands as the crowd roared. Brian checked back in with you, telling you he was going to grab some quotes before heading off. You bid him farewell before going to find Pam, heading outside with the rest of the crowd.

“Hey, over here!”

You quickly spotted Pam, smiling as you waved back at her, weaving your way through the crowd to join her.

“Hey,” You smiled, laughing softly as Pam grabbed your arm, a wide grin on her face. “Are you al-”

“Come on,” Pam immediately started tugging you in the opposite direction. “let me show you something,”

You just about managed to maintain your balance and hold onto your camera as you dodged through the dispersing crowd, wondering what exactly Pam was doing.

Before long you had an answer, as you and Pam joined a large group of women hanging around the back door of the Sportatorium. Her keenness to come to the match made much more sense when Kevin Von Erich walked out the door, towel around his shoulders and bag slung over his shoulder. You had never known Pam to look at any man the way she was looking at Kevin.

“What are you waiting for?” You asked, giving Pam a gentle nudge. “Get on over there, girl.”

“I can't, there's too many girls round him,” Pam sighed. “I am not desperate. I'll wait for my time.”

“Saving the best for last huh?” You grinned, watching Pam roll her eyes playfully. “I don't think he's gonna be able to take his eyes off you.”

“You think?” Pam asked, glancing over to you. She looked genuinely concerned and you gave her a reassuring smile. 

“I know.”

A little while later, when the crowd had dispersed and Kevin was signing the last couple of autographs, you gave Pam a gentle nudge, smiling as she quickly fixed her hair.

“Good luck,” You grinned, gently squeezing her arm. “Not that you need it.”

You gave her some space, walking over to a trash can before fishing a pack of cigarettes from your purse. You lit one up, glancing over to Pam and smiling as you spotted Kevin heading in her direction. Closing your eyes as you looked away, you took a long drag on your cigarette and felt yourself relax.

“You know it's a bad habit to smoke those things.”

You opened your eyes, finding a familiar face standing close to you. He looked better in person than he did in the ring, if that was possible. 

“Well I'm sure you know that it is very rude to keep your hat on in the presence of a lady,” You raised a brow, flicking your ash into the trash can. “I could be deeply insulted.”

“I apologize,” David grinned, taking off his hat and giving you a slight bow as he did. He introduced himself properly, as did you, his hand moving over his heart as he tilted his head. “You know I was just joking, there's worse habits to have than smoking.”

You nodded, smiling a little. “Like creeping up on strangers?”

He laughed and you felt a flutter in your stomach. You willed it away, not wanting to be another simpering fan.

“You want one?” You asked, holding out the box of cigarettes. David looked like he was considering saying yes before he shook his head. 

“No, thank you. I shouldn't.”

“Fair enough,” You nodded, putting the box back in your purse. “It really is a bad habit. I'm trying to quit but I got some time to kill so..”

“Oh yeah?” David raised a brow, glancing around the quiet car park before looking back at you. “What you waiting for?”

“My friend,” You gestured in the direction of Pam, who was deep in conversation with Kevin. “she's a big fan.”

“So I see,” David grinned, looking over to his brother and Pam before focusing his attention back on you. “and uh..what about you? Are you a big fan?”

You thought about it/made him wait for a moment as you took a drag on your cigarette and raised a brow.

“I'm just here for work.”

“Really?” David looked a little surprised, lightly rubbing his jaw. “What kinda work do you do?”

You held up your camera with a smile before flicking your cigarette in the trash can. “I’m a photographer,” You explained. “for a newspaper.”

“Oh right,” David smiled, folding his arms. “I'll have to buy that, see if you got any good ones of me. Which paper is it?”

“It's the uh..huh,” You grinned as you glanced over to Pam, watching her laugh as Kevin said something to her. “Excuse me for one second.” 

You turned slightly, holding your camera up and focusing it on Pam and Kevin. You felt very aware of David's presence behind you, trying to hold your hands steady as you snapped a picture. 

“I have a feeling I may need that one day,” You smiled, settling your camera strap back over your shoulder and turning to David. “They're cute together, don't you think?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” David nodded, his gaze staying on you. “She ain't the cutest one here though.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn't fight the smile on your face and multiple flutters in your stomach. 

“Oh shut up, that's such a line.”

“I'm deadly serious,” David grinned, holding his hat over his heart. “I promise.”

You were about to say something when Pam appeared, linking her arm with yours and giggling as she went to drag you away. 

“Hang on one second,” David called, making you look over your shoulder with a smile.

“You never told me the name of your paper!”

“It's in Dallas,” You called back, walking forward with Pam, the two of you giggling. “If you find it, call me!”

📷

A couple of days later you were in the newspaper office, going over some photos for an upcoming article when one of the secretaries knocked on the door and asked for you.

“Call for you,” She explained, gesturing to the phone as you went to her desk. “They didn't give a name, just asked for you.”

“Okay, thanks Margaret,” You smiled, feeling a slight knot in your stomach. It was extremely rare someone called you at work, and you tried not to think the worst. 

Going to the phone, you picked it up and took a deep breath before holding it to your ear. 

“Hello?”

“Hello yourself.”

You let out a soft sigh of relief as you realized who was on the other end of the line, a small smile on your face.

“How many papers did you have to call before you found me?”

“That's not important.”

You rolled your eyes with a grin.

“More than two?”

“..five.”

“Oh wow,” You grinned, turning more towards the wall. “That's perseverance right there. I'm flattered.”

“Well so am I,” David replied. “I saw those pictures you took. They were great, I wanted to thank you for catching me at such a flattering angle.”

“You're welcome,” You smiled, glancing over your shoulder before looking back and lowering your voice slightly. “That the only reason you called six newspapers? Angles?”

“Not quite,” You could hear a cheeky tone in his voice, your fingers holding the phone cord. “I was hoping you'd come see me again. You don't have to take pictures this time, if you don't want.”

“As it happens I am coming,” You raised a brow with a smile. “Your brother beat you to the invite. He invited Pam, who invited me. So I'll be there.”

“Well damn,” David laughed softly. “I guess I'll just have to come right out with it then..ask you on a real date.”

“Oh?” You grinned, feeling like a teenager as your cheeks grew warm. “How about we make it interesting?”

“I'm all ears.”

You took a breath, trying to calm your heartbeat. You were aware of Margaret behind you, knowing she'd be listening to every word. 

“Alright, if you win..I accept. If you don't, no deal.”

“Hm, sounds fair,” David replied. “I guess I'll have to try a little harder this week. I'll let you get back to work, alright?”

“Alright,” You nodded, trying not too smile too widely. “I'll see you Saturday. Bye.”

You hung up the phone, turning around to Margaret with a polite smile.

“Thank you, I'll be in the office.”

Once you closed the door and found yourself alone, you let out a laugh, shaking your head and wondering what you'd let yourself in for.

📷

Saturday came around quickly, and most of the day was given over to preparing. At first you were just helping Pam, heading into store after store to find the perfect outfit. Then you started looking for yourself, realizing that you wanted to put in just a little more effort since you were going to watch, not work. 

As the evening drew closer, the radio was on full blast in the apartment as you and Pam cracked open a bottle of wine and started the beauty process. You couldn't shake the slight nerves that were settled in your stomach, but they were joined by an excitement. 

“Oh,” Pam turned from the bathroom mirror to look at you. You were sitting on the edge of the bathtub, carefully painting your toenails. “Did he ever get in touch? David? I completely forgot to ask.”

“Yeah, he found me,” You grinned, laughing as Pam gasped. “Asked me to come along tonight. I told him I was already coming.”

“And?” Pam asked, waving her hand at you. “What else? Did he ask you out?”

“I told him he can take me out if he wins,” You smiled, holding the bottle of nail polish up in the air with a laugh as Pam rushed over to hug you.

“This is so exciting! We're gonna be like sisters!”

📷

When you arrived at the Sportatorium, it seemed to be even busier than it had been the previous week. You stepped out of your truck, smoothing out your outfit. It was only a black off the shoulder top and some denim jeans but you hoped it still looked good. 

You linked your arm with Pam's as the two of you headed inside the bustling arena, your heart beating faster as you took your seats. As it turned out, watching the match was totally different to photographing it. You couldn't move about, couldn't pick one thing to focus on. It was all happening, bright and loud and thrilling. You found yourself cheering and whistling with the crowd, you and Pam both jumping up and screaming when the Von Erichs emerged victorious.

When it was all over and you were enjoying the fresh air, you couldn't help but find it adorable when Kevin couldn't keep his eyes off Pam while he signed autographs. Once he was free you gave him and Pam some space, almost immediately bumping into David.

“Hey winner,” You smiled, resting your hands in your back pockets. “Nice angles in there.”

“I hope someone was there to capture them,” David grinned, taking his hat off. “Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah,” You nodded, watching David for a moment, smiling as you realized he almost seemed a little nervous. “I really enjoyed it..though I'm a little curious about something.”

“What might that be?” David asked, moving his hat from one hand to the other. 

“Well,” You smiled, stepping closer and looking up at him. “Are you going to honor our agreement?”

📷

It was only when you were putting on your coat to leave the apartment when it dawned on that you hadn't actually been on a first date for..a while. There were some relationships in high school, a couple in college along with some dates and flings but the last had been before you graduated. 

You tried not to think about it too much, you were just going for dinner and seeing a movie. Worst case scenario, you and David didn't end up hitting it off and the world would go on as it always did. But part of you was hopeful that something would come from the date, that it would develop into something really great.

Grabbing your purse, you left the apartment and went downstairs to hail a cab, excitement starting to outweigh the nerves.

📷

“No way,” You laughed, your eyes going wide as you placed your hand over your chest. “You did not do that.”

“Yes I did,” David nodded, a serious look on his face before he laughed. “I was so sick afterwards. Never got found out though. Mom just went and got Kerry and Mike a new egg each. I couldn't eat chocolate for like three months.”

“I'm not surprised,” You laughed, picking up your drink. “You can't say you didn't deserve it.”

David laughed, nodding as he picked up his own drink. 

“I certainly did deserve it. Moment of weakness I guess.” 

You took a sip of your drink before setting the glass down and glancing around the restaurant. It was a steakhouse, but it felt like a nice one. Elegant lighting, candles on the tables, classy music playing. No sawdust or butcher paper to be found. 

“So do you think your brothers ever found out?” You asked, sitting up a little and resting your hands in your lap. “Or did you tell them?”

“No to both I'm afraid,” David sighed softly, lightly tapping his glass as he set it down. “Though I think Kev knew it was me..” He smiled to himself as he looked down. “Never said anything if he did know, though.”

“Seems like you two are close,” You smiled, your heart picking up a beat as David looked back at you with a warm smile. 

“We are,” He nodded. “We all are. I can't imagine life without them, they're amazing.” 

You felt your heart swell, trying not to get too swept up in your emotions. 

“That's so wonderful,” You smiled. “It's amazing that you're all so close.”

“Yeah,” David grinned, sitting up a little. “I just feel so lucky every day, like..” He stopped himself, lightly rubbing his neck.

“You know what, I feel like all I've done is talk about myself, my brothers, I don't want you to think I'm self absorbed or nothing, I promise I ain't like that.”

You shook your head, reaching your hand across the table and grinning when David held it with his own.

“I know you're not,” You insisted. “You're wonderful. Now tell me more about your family, I want the good stories.”

You ended up missing the movie, but neither of you cared. You talked until the restaurant was closing, David's jacket around your shoulders as you walked out into the night air. He gave you a ride home and kissed your cheek by your door  like a gentleman. 

“I had a great time,” You smiled, carefully taking off David's jacket and giving it back to him. You could tell he wanted to tell you to keep it, and you knew why he couldn't. 

“Maybe you should win another match, take me out again.”

“It's a deal.”

📷

Going to matches became a weekly event. You and Pam would cheer and cling to each other, laughing at how silly you were being. You took pictures for yourself, wanting to remember every moment. Afterwards you would meet David and Kevin, go for burgers and debrief on the match. 

It wasn't always easy for David to visit you, so you called each other when you could, spending an hour or two talking about anything and everything. You drove down to Denton a couple of times, meeting him for something to eat or just for a drive. 

He was always a perfect gentleman, opening doors for you and holding your hand, never pressing for anything more even though you suspected he was just as keen as you were to take things further.

You decided to nudge things in the right direction one night when you had gone down to visit him. Pam had come with you, and David and Kevin had taken you to the lake with their brother Mike, who you instantly adored. 

The afternoon was perfect, gorgeous hot weather and ice cold beers, floating along in the water and feeling like nothing else could possibly matter but being in that moment. 

You were sitting on the edge of the dock while the others drifted along on the huge rubber float, snapping a couple of shots of them before setting the camera aside. David appeared next to you, sitting down and resting his hand on your back. You leaned into the touch, his arm moving around your shoulders. 

“I love this,” You smiled softly, closing your eyes and letting out a breath. “If every day was like this..what a world.”

“It's perfect,” David murmured softly. “I can't think of anything better.”

“Hm, I reckon I can,” You smiled, opening your eyes and looking up at him. His eyes were already on you and you grinned as he took a breath and leaned in, his lips feeling like heaven against yours. 

You could hear the cheers and whistles, smiling into the kiss and feeling satisfied beyond belief. 

📷

“You ready for this?”

“Absolutely not. You?”

“Absolutely not.”

You flicked on the indicator and headed up the long drive to the Von Erich home, glancing over to Pam in the passenger seat.

“At least we're in this together.”

It was incredibly daunting, the thought of meeting David's parents and his brother Kerry, who had recently come home. He had told you countless times that they would love you, but it didn't ease your nerves. 

You were relieved to have Pam with you, that she was in the same boat. Mike met you both at the door, giving you both a hug and chatting away as he led you outside. 

It was a flurry of introductions, handshakes and hugs and the most perfect kiss from David that had you instantly relaxing.

By the time everyone sat down for dinner, it felt as though you had known the Von Erichs forever. The food was delicious, the weather was beautiful, the company was amazing. You felt David reach for your hand under the table when his parents talked about how they met, your heart swelling. 

When Doris forbade Mike from going to a gig that night, you glanced across the table to Pam smiling as she gave you a slight nod.

📷

“Alright, drive, drive!”.

You put your foot down, laughing as you glanced in the mirror and watched your boyfriend and his brothers gradually haul themselves into your truck. You turned the radio up when you left the driveway, rolling down the windows and cheering as you hit the road.

It didn't matter whose house the party was in, it was big and roomy and most importantly, fun. You had a beer in your hand before you knew it, hitting the makeshift dance floor. The brothers spun you and Pam around, laughter filling the air as you moved to the music, not a care in the world.

When Mike took to the stage with his band, you stood with David behind you, his arms wrapped around you. You all cheered as the song started up, swaying along as you held your hands over David's. 

Later in the evening you gently took David's hand and pulled him into a quiet corner, whispering in his ear and enjoying the slightly tipsy smile that crossed his face, a flash of worry passing his eyes.

You led him upstairs, finding an empty bedroom and closing the door.

“We..we don't have to,” David insisted as you slipped off your shoes. “I don't want you to feel pressured.”

“I don't,” You smiled, walking to the end of the bed and unzipping your dress before turning back to David. “But I will think you don't want to if you don't get over here in the next thirty seconds.”

He didn't need to be asked twice.

You laughed as you were picked up bridal style and carried to the top of the bed, letting out a soft moan as David laid you down and gave you a tender kiss.

Despite your suspicions that David was possibly a virgin, you didn't ask when he didn't bring it up. He was a little apprehensive, but once you took the lead he seemed to tap into his ring persona and the confidence in his movements had you struggling not to scream as your nails dug into his back, the sheets, your body crying out for more. 

“Oh god,” You moaned, touching David's cheek and looking up to meet his eyes as your legs hooked around his waist. “Baby..’m so close, please..”

You closed your eyes as he pushed deeper into you, his forehead resting against yours.

“Me too,” He murmured, his hand reaching for yours. “Fuck..fuck..I love you.”

Your eyes went wide at the confession, a deep moan spilling from your lips as you felt a wave crash over you, feeling David fill you moments later. You moved your hands to his neck, meeting his eyes and taking a deep breath. 

“I'm sorry,” He sighed, looking down. “I shouldn't have-this isn't the time..”

“No,” You insisted, a smile spreading on your face. “It's the perfect time. I love you, too.”

📷

“Mind if I get one of those?”

You turned around, letting out a sigh of relief as you spotted Kerry walking towards you. 

“Of course,” You smiled, taking the box of cigarettes from your purse and handing it over. “Thought you were David for a second.”

Kerry laughed as he accepted the box, shaking his head.

“Nah, your secret is safe with me. Just needed one huh?”

“Yeah,” You nodded, flicking away the ash. “I'm so nervous. I don't know why, it's not like I have to walk down the aisle in front of hundreds of people wearing this,” You raised a brow, gesturing to your dress.

As much as you adored Pam, and as thrilled as you were that she was getting married and had asked you to be her maid of honor, you did not exactly love the dress she had chosen. For a start, it was a mix of dusky pink and peach, the skirt was so big you wondered if you fit down the aisle, and the sleeves were almost the size of your head.

“I feel you,” Kerry nodded, looking down at himself as he lit his cigarette. “I think we all feel a little ridiculous. But you know the worst part?”

“Go on,” You smiled, lifting up the puffball that had slipped down your shoulder. “shock me.”

“I gotta do this three more times,” Kerry sighed, lightly prodding the flower attached to his suit. “At least you get to choose your wedding dress. I'm stuck in velvet hell.”

You laughed, shaking your head and taking a drag on your cigarette. 

“Oh come on, it ain't so bad. I think I heard Mike say he would never have velvet.”

“Really?” Kerry raised a brow, looking over to you. 

“Promise,” You grinned, holding your hand over your heart. “He said he'd have velour.”

“Oh fuck off,” Kerry laughed, shaking his head and holding his hand out. “Gimme a mint and get out of here, I'll velour you.”

“I'd like to see you try,” You laughed, getting a mint from your purse and flicking your cigarette away before walking over to Kerry. “See you inside. Don't destroy that flower.”

📷

“Isn't she beautiful?” You smiled, watching Pam and Kevin sway on the dancefloor, smiles etched on their faces as they moved to the music. 

You felt the urge to take a photo, but a professional had been hired for the day. Pam had insisted she wanted you to be in the pictures, not the one behind the camera. You had been a little disappointed, but you gave her the photo you'd taken from when she and Kevin had first met, and her reaction made it all worth it.

“She really is,” Doris nodded, looking over to you and taking your hand with a smile. “And you will be too.”

“Thank you,” You smiled, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Let me go get us another drink.”

You stood up, making your way over to the bar with a smile. While you and David weren't officially engaged, it was kind of an unspoken truth that when Pam and Kevin had gotten married, David would propose to you next. Kerry wasn’t seeing anyone, and while Mike was dating a girl, they had only been together a few weeks.

So, you knew you were next up.

As you waited for your drinks, you smiled as you felt a familiar presence by your side.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look today?”

“Yes,” You grin, turning to face David and giving him a kiss. “But I don't mind hearing it again.”

As the song ended and a new one started up, more guests took to the floor.

“Should we go for a twirl?” David asked, gently stroking your cheek. “or maybe not quite a twirl, that dress will take out anyone who comes close,” He teased.

“Oh shut up,” You laughed, lightly swatting him. “I'm getting your mom a drink, if I don't take you out first.”

“I'll take it to her,” David smiled, leaning down to give you a soft kiss. “Then you owe me a dance.”

📷

So, here it is. 

The big day. 

You thought at times it would never come, but it's here. 

A lot has happened, of course. Weddings need buildup, after all. The guests can only talk about how beautiful you look and wonder who did the food for so long. You gotta give them something. 

So what's new? It's been a minute, a luxuriously long engagement. 

The Von Erichs have gone from strength to strength, reaching the top of the wrestling game. You still go see matches, when you can. They're global now, you always feel a rush of pride when you watch them on TV at some crazy hour.

Pam is a world class veterinarian, an incredible mother to the most gorgeous baby, and still the best friend in the world. 

Kevin won the WHC belt, is the most devoted husband, father, brother, brother-in-law and son. He and Pam keep saying they're going to buy a ranch in Hawaii for everyone to live in, and you like to think maybe it could be true.

Kerry insists he's your favorite brother-in-law, and you insist that you couldn't possibly choose a favorite but deep down you think he's most likely right. He makes you laugh the most, teases you and makes stupid jokes to cheer you up when you need it. The two of you have sneaky cigarettes and know what the other is thinking when you look at each other. 

Mike has just signed a recording contract with his band, and you tell him all the time he better come to you first with concert tickets. He's going to be the next one engaged, he's so loved up and it's adorable. 

Then there's David. 

The yellow rose who called up six different newspapers just to ask you out, who let you into his life, who loves you unconditionally and makes you so unbelievably happy that you wonder what you ever did without him. You would never have pursued your dreams without him and his family, that's something you know. And let's not forget his proposal, which was the most beautiful moment of your life.

David had taken you on a surprise trip one night, insisting that you were just going for a drive after you'd been out for dinner, but you knew it wasn't true. You found yourself at the lake, David's hand in yours as you walked down to the dock, which..was decorated with candles in jars, rose petals, a bottle of champagne sitting in ice. 

Knowing that you were marrying your soulmate, joining a family you loved deeply, it made you feel so safe, so secure. You quit your job, deciding to pursue your real passion. You bought a gallery in Dallas, and displayed your own work along with other local artists, including your soon to be mother in law. It took time, but it's become a success, and you don't care what any of them say, you couldn't have done it without your family.

Plenty for the guests to talk about, right?

You take a deep breath as you step out of the car, Pam fixes your dress and you take a deep breath. Her dress is beautiful, and most importantly, simple. 

Before you know it you're walking down the aisle, your heart beating faster as hundreds of faces smile at you, but there's only one you need to see, and when you do it makes everything okay. 

You reach the top of the aisle, feeling overwhelmed with love, beaming as you turn to look at your soon to be husband.

“You know it's a bad habit to leave the bride with a veil over her face,” You grinned, watching David gently touch the hem of the silky veil and carefully move it back, a wide smile on his face.

“I do apologize,” He grinned. “Still gonna marry me?”

“Of course,” You smiled. “You look perfect from this angle.”