#mallory pugh

[bailey41]

🎶 Cheetah Girls, "Strut” ⚽️ USWNT with other members of Team USA on the bus to Stade de France, August 11, 2024. 🎥 posted by Margaret Hedeman, US Rowing, Women's Eight. 🚣‍♀️

[1st-n-front]

[meazalykov]

the golden girl

uswnt x uswnt!reader

summary: what happened in a world where reader played on the USWNT in the 2019 World Cup?

part one (part two here)

Knowing that the call at eight am could change the pathway of my career, I couldn’t sleep. My mind spins rapidly as I tried to close my eyes and manipulate myself into believing that tomorrow would be an ordinary day, but that didn’t work. 

Hi! My name is Y/n L/n and I am a soccer player who plays for club Olympique Lyon. I am a forward who many people call the “next big thing,” since I am only 19 years old. 

After winning the Champions League final with Lyon, scoring a brace which involved a penalty, my career seemed to go in a great path that was unordinary for a teenager. 

I sat on my bed, criss-crossed, as I stared at the digital alarm clock on my bedside table. 4:38am. Three hours and twenty two minutes until I get the call. 

After traveling to my hometown in the United States, Virginia Beach, I traveled to the last International camp, before the World Cup, in order to “try out” for a World Cup roster spot. My mentality is great, my skills during the camp were phenomenal and I believe I proved that to the coaches, but I am young. 

The coaches will prioritize other forwards like Alex Morgan, Tobin Heath, Megan Raphinoe, and Christen Press first. I am aware of that. They’ve won the 2015 World Cup four years ago and have the experience to go up again. However, everyone knows that the USWNT will need to bring on youngsters to set themselves up for future competitions, so I have confidence that I'll be the one they’ll call. 

Three hours and twenty minutes later, I sat at my dining room table in Lyon, preparing for the unexpected. 

My phone’s flashlight goes off a few times and my screen brightens at the sight of my International Coach’s number. 

“Hey.” I spoke first as my finger pressed on the green button. The nervousness in my voice was present, I wanted this decision to go my way. 

“Hi Y/n! How are you feeling right now!?” My United States coach, Jill Ellis, asked. 

“I’m- Um— I’m nervous.” I told the truth. I heard a small chuckle come from the coach which I raised my eyebrows at. The tension on my end could be cut with a sharp knife. The lack of sleep made my nerves worse too. 

“Well I have some news for you.” Jill said. I swallowed on nothing as the next few seconds can predict how my day– sorry— year will go. I know she has to call other players about the decisions for them so our call won’t last long, thankfully. 

“Let me start off by saying that all of the coaching staff, including myself, needed to consider someone who is young and has a lot of quality. We were impressed by the amount of work you've put into our international camps and we’ve kept up on your club experience at Lyon for more reference. So, we’ve chosen you to be on the roster to represent the United States in the 2019 World Cup.” The excitement in Jill’s voice grew when she announced that I would be in the World Cup. 

However, most of what she said sounded muffled through the happy tears that poured down my eyes. I couldn’t believe it! My hard work paid off. 

“Thank you!” I said. 

“No Thank you Y/n! We’ll see you soon, Bye!” Jill ended the call before I jumped in joy. 

A couple of months later, I sat on the bench in France as the USWNT was up against Thailand in the group stage. It was the 64th minute and we were up 7-0. As I sat on the bench, my heart raced faster out of nervousness. Eventually, my head turned when I heard her call my name. I am excited, but my stomach felt like there was a rock in it. The weight of expectations settled squarely on my shoulders as I looked at the ongoing game. 

We are winning the game by seven, but I still wanted to prove my best to the coach, teammates, and the fans. When I stood up, my legs felt like jelly making my way to the touchline. The crowd's roar was deafening, every step closer to the pitch amplifying my nerves. 

“You��re going to go on for Raphinoe. We are up 7-0 but use this as an opportunity to get a feel of the field and experience.” Jill spoke with empathy as she patted on my back, allowing me to do the required warmup on the sideline before standing at the midline. 

I tried to shake off the doubts, reminding myself of the countless hours of practice that had brought me to this moment. The nerves in my legs wouldn’t calm down. Maybe I can use that as a source of adrenaline. 

Running onto the field in replacement for Raphinoe, the enormity of the occasion hit me like a ton of bricks. The stadium seemed to stretch endlessly all around me, filled with thousands of spectators watching my every move. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. The ball was at the other end of the field, giving me a moment to collect myself.

Then, Julie Ertz shot the ball over the left side of the field to gain space. The ball landed on my ivory-colored cleat and I dribbled around a Thailand opponent before passing to Alex Morgan who lightly tapped the ball behind the net. Goal!

My jaw dropped in realization as Alex jogged over to hug me. Some of the girls on the pitch came to congratulate me on the assist as others clapped their hands. I didn’t take it offensively, we are up 8-0 now and there's not much to celebrate now besides the inevitable win. My first touch in the World Cup gave an assist which I later found impressed spectators. 

I glanced at my teammates when the game started again, finding reassurance in their encouraging, yet concentrated, nods and smiles. They had confidence in my abilities, even if I struggled to find it within myself sometimes. With each passing second, my nerves began to settle, now replaced by a fierce determination to prove myself worthy of wearing the US jersey.

Eventually, I found myself caught up in the rhythm of the play. My eyes were on the ball, blocking out the noise of the crowd and the pressure of the moment. With each touch and pass to a teammate, my confidence grew and my movements became more fluid and precise.

Then, in the 73rd minute, it happened. A perfectly timed pass by Samantha Mewis found my feet. At this point I wanted to be the goalscorer, not the assist. With a burst of speed, I raced towards the goal and dribbled around the defenders who were in the way of the goal, the screaming chants of the crowd fading into the background as they saw what I was doing. At that moment, there was only me, the ball, and the goal.

My right foot unleashed a powerful shot, the ball rocketing into the back of the net with a stunning curve. Goal! The stadium erupted into cheers, the sound washing over me like a tidal wave of euphoria as my teammates ran to congratulate me on my first ever goal in the World Cup. For a brief moment, I allowed myself to bask in the glory of my achievement, the weight of my nerves finally lifted off of my shoulders. The game ended in a 13-0 win for us!

Later in the World Cup tournament, I found myself on the bench as my heart pounded at the match in front of me. Thanks to Alex Morgan and Christen Press who scored in the Semifinal against the Lionesses, we were in the World Cup final against the Dutch. 

As the game enters the 79th minute, with the score being 2-0, the coach calls my name. This took me by surprise since I didn’t believe that any substitutes would join the final. When I stood up, my legs felt like lead as I made my way onto the pitch for Tobin Heath, who had an injury earlier in the tournament and couldn't play all 90 minutes. The roar of the crowd washes over me, drowning out the doubts that threatened to consume me since I am on the right wing.

With only minutes remaining, I can’t make a mistake. I have to make every second count. We are up 2-0 but the Netherlands could easily catch up if we make a few errors, they’re EURO champions and have a statement to make for the world.

As I focus on the ball, blocking out the noise of the crowd and the pressure of the moment, the 89th minute comes along. Krieger gets the ball from a Dutch forward and launches the ball in the air towards Rose Lavelle. The girl who scored the second goal in the final headed the ball over the field again before it landed onto my feet— This is my chance. 

My feet take the ball towards the goal. Veenendaal, the Dutch Goalkeeper, sets herself up in a ready position. As I race closer to the goal, my heart pounds in my chest. The defenders close in but I dribble around them effortlessly. An Oranje defender missed her chance to side tackle me as my left foot unleashed a powerful shot. The ball grazed the tip of Veenendaal’s fingers and the ball hit the back of the net with stunning precision. Goal!

The stadium erupts into cheers as I run to the corner of the pitch to celebrate. A typical knee slide that allowed my knees to slide through the soft grass before I stood up and turned to my teammates who rushed to congratulate me. Everyone on the bench got up and ran to me as well to celebrate. At that moment, the voice in my head told me that I’ve done it. My goal gave everyone the reassurance that we secured a World Cup win for the USWNT four times. 

After winning the Bronze Ball, Gold Medal, and being able to take pictures with the World Cup trophy itself, I cried. The tears wouldn’t stop after my bestfriend Mallory Pugh hugged me as she cried as well. We were so happy, I have never felt so proud of myself and my team. 

Hopefully 2023 will secure us a three-peat…. 

part two here

[kamotecue]

first meeting ✯ a. bonmati

pairing: mallory pugh x reader (formerly), aitana bonmati x reader

summary: you didn’t know that a certain midfielder had their eyes on you, little did you know it was the start of your happy ending. pwnt!reader, arsenal!reader

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

if anything, you were harsh on yourself. when you found out that mal was already with dansby, you felt crestfallen and a bit angry at the world. she was your first love after all, you first met her at a game against ucla.

you played for the tar heels, with now world class footballers like lotte wubben-moy and alessia russo. she had caught your attention, and you had befriended her. little did you know, it was going to be your downfall.

the moment you found out by a friend, you had distance yourself from the world. staying away from social media, hardly interacting with new people, and you focused during training.

you had pushed yourself to the limit that you had gotten injured. it was a minor one, an overstretched calf making you skip a few games. your parents were in disbelief in the way, mal had treated you because you had introduced her as the one you’re courting.

courtship was quite traditional in the philippines, it is usually know as manligaw. in which a manliligaw or suitor would express their feelings for a person through harana (singing of romantic love songs), they would also recite poems, write letters and as usual gift giving.

you would often prove your worth to the person’s family, if you’re good enough for their daughter. courting can take a few years, and the one being courted can have many suitors. it’s not often that the one being courted says yes, to the suitor. but this is the proper rules and standards in traditional filipino courtship are set by the philippine society.

but you had gotten over her throughout your college years, you focused on yourself. you didn’t want to sit there and sob about it. now here you were playing for one of the greatest clubs in the women’s super league.

you had been signed by arsenal after you had graduated with a double major in physiotherapy and education. lotte had put in a good word for you, it also helped that arsenal had kept an eye on you during your college years.

yet here you are, a game against barcelona femini. one of the top female football clubs in the world, they dominated the liga f as they have the most championships.

“nervous, l/n?” kim, the team’s skipper asked as you walked alongside her. the match was about to start, and you were part of the starting line up.

“it’s against barca, who wouldn’t be nervous.” you said, as you took your place in the line. kim chuckled at your behavior before going in front of the team’s goalkeeper.

you didn’t know that a certain spanish midfielder watched your interaction, nor did you notice that she caught a glimpse at you. you were too busy talking to your mascot, swinging her hand back and forth softly. the kick off had started, and the game went exactly how you thought it would go.

in the first half, both teams have gotten a yellow card. more specifically beth mead, katie mccabe and irene paredes. there were also three goals scored by barcelona, caldentey, alexia putellas who scored an absolute banger of a goal in the 42nd minute and lastly, oshoala who scored just a few minutes after alexia.

you were walking to the tunnel, a water bottle filled with electrolytes was in your hand, as you occasionally took a few sips.

“as expected from barcelona.” you whispered, causing lia to laugh at your comment. the lovely bun that you did was a bit untidy after the first half.

“they are a top team n/n, but you’ve been playing well.” lia said, ruffling your hair as she entered the locker room first.

during the half time break, you were told the tactics to change the game. and that’s exactly what you did, in the 63rd minute, you sent a great cross to caitlin who managed to get a tap on the ball, sending it into the top right corner where paños wasn’t able to save.

you watched as caitlin did her celebration, the rest of the team had joined her in the huddle while you stayed in the back. in the 74th minute, frida had scored an absolute goal but it wasn’t enough to win the game.

the whistle had blew signaling the game had ended. you sighed in frustration, as you lifted the end of your shirt to wipe the sweat on your face. not knowing how a certain midfielder beelined her way towards you.

she caught a glanced at your exposed stomach, as she felt a bit flustered. you had dropped down your shirt, only to see the midfielder had averted her gaze to your eyes.

“i’m aitana, you played really well.” she said, as she held her hand out for you to grab.

“i’m y/n, thanks—you also played really well.” you said, as you grabbed her hand at a leisurely pace.

“want to swap shirts?” you gave her a soft nod, before tugging off your shirt. you had handed her yours, the number #17 with the last name, l/n on the back.

[there’s def a part 2]

[lessirussolvr]

[totaly-obsessed]

Olympic Podium Appreciation

Request a player | with @alotofpockets

[gamergirl929]

I think Mallory sat down before the Olympics and said, what records can I make during these games, girl's on fire.

[alotofpockets]

Mallory Swanson Appreciation

woso appreciation masterlist | with @totaly-obsessed

[malvpswanson]

OK BYEEEEEE

[thesoccerfan]

Little Mix🤞🏽

[bailey41]

Bonus, for legends only:

Ok that was an exhausting campaign🏆🥇and apologies for Gianni Infantino

[quinnfebrey]

help i’m still at the restaurant

[kristiemewisstan]

MALLORY SWANSON GETTING THE ONLY GOAL IN AN OLYMPIC GOLD MEDAL MATCH THAT HAPPENS TO BE HER 100TH CAP IM SO SORRY IM GONNA LOSE MY MIND

[coachtfd]

BACK ON TOP. 🙌🏾🙌🏾

🇺🇸🥇

[lessirussolvr]