#so the semifinals is what really matters

[cakercanart]

Is this really the line in the sand? Is the definition of tumblr sexyman really the hill you’re all going to die on? What happened to aligning with the chaotic? What happened to the rule of funny? If you voted Cecil you’re dead to me

[woso-dreamzzz]

World Cup VI

Hardersson x Daughter!Reader

Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adeventures Universe

Summary: It's heartbreaking

It's the worst kind of pain imaginable.

The kind of pain that lodges in a chest, in a throat, in a mind. The kind of pain that radiates throughout a body, weighing on someone, eating away at them until there's nothing left.

Eaten from the inside out.

Until there's nothing left but an empty husk of a person.

To be so close to a dream that will never be reached.

Not now.

Not ever.

It chokes someone from the inside, suffocating them until they can do nothing but accept their fate.

There's not much else to say about it.

The kind of pain that is only really experienced once in a lifetime.

The kind of pain only experienced in extra time of a football match as one last substitute is made.

The board goes up.

"On for number fourteen, number one for Sweden, Harder-Eriksson."

The final of a World Cup.

Sweden, two.

Spain, two.

And the worst person to take penalties against is subbed on.

"No," Talia says as she watches you run on," No, please. Please."

You'd taken a knock in the semifinals against Colombia, a bad one that had you sitting out most of the final.

Selfishly, Talia was glad for it.

The two goals she had scored wouldn't have gone in had you been standing between the sticks.

Had you been on in the beginning, there would have been no extra time.

You are the greatest goalkeeper in the world and you're never out of control in finals.

You thrive under the pressure, under the pressure of the whole world watching your every mood, under the pressure of Magda and Pernille's legacy.

You rise to the occasion every time.

You show why you are so sought after.

Extra time leaks away and the tears already fall as penalties are announced.

Your Sweden team isn't known for their penalty-taking abilities but it hardly matters. All it takes is one penalty to win.

One ball in the back of the net.

You can delay that for as long as you need to.

One goal to win a match.

One goal for a childhood dream to shatter.

One missed save to return to Spain as a World Champion.

But you have never let a penalty passed in your entire career.

Not at Linköping. Not at Arsenal. Not at Barcelona.

Not for Denmark. Not for Sweden.

No penalty has ever escaped you.

The shots are taken in quick succession.

You don't let any pass but neither does Spain's keeper.

The anticipation swells. The tension builds. The camera flashes to fans in the crowd.

To Patri, sitting in the stands with her hands clasped in front of her and a nervous look on her face. Talia has never seen her cousin so shaken before.

She cuts a striking picture against the complete calmness of Magda and Pernille when the camera switches again. They don't look worried in the slightest.

They've always been your biggest supporters, the biggest believers in your ability to do anything you set your mind to. They've seen the talent in you for years.

There is no reason for them to be worried.

Talia takes the ball, the last penalty for Spain.

She steps forward.

You come out of your goal, walking forward towards her until you're face to face.

The conflict is clear on your face.

To anyone else, you look deadly calm. Magda's feature on your face matches your mother's expression in the crowd but Talia can see through it.

The slight furrow of your brow, the downturn of the corner of your mouth. The way that you can't quite meet her eyes.

"I'm sorry," You say as she places the ball on the penalty spot.

"I know," Talia replies.

"I am really sorry, my love. I...I didn't want it to end like this."

"Don't be. Go do what you do best."

Talia's dreams of a World Cup slip through her fingers in an instant. She usually shoots right, in the top corner. This time though, she'll shoot left to the bottom.

Pernille sits up in the stands as you back away from Talia, returning to your line.

The stadium holds its breath.

A home World Cup win would mean the world to Sweden. To defeat the hosts would mean the world to Spain.

But you stand in their way.

A formidable force between the sticks with more experience than most your age and an unshakeable spirit that intimidates by just your mere presence on the pitch.

"She's got this," Magda whispers to her, clasping Pernille's hand tight," Even if it is Talia."

The stadium ripples with anticipation, shouts escaping throats as Talia lets the ball fly...

Your familiar red jersey moves, your black gloves reaching out.

Your body crashes to the ground.

A millisecond too late and the ball would have gone in.

Your fingertips manage to brush it away though, forcing it away from your line.

The knock to Spain's confidence is big.

It can be felt all around the stadium and just a box away, Pernille sees Patri bury her head in her hands.

Sweden's last penalty is taken quickly.

Scored even quicker by your captain.

A title defended on home soil. The triumph of Sweden over Spain.

The crowd is electric and Magda pumps her fist into the air, screaming like she'd just won this herself and Pernille hauls herself out of her seat to head down to the barriers with her wife to greet you.

The crowd is nothing compared to the roaring in Talia's ears as that pain settles into her bones and gnaws away at her muscles.

She falls to the floor, breathing in a ragged breath as a childhood dream slips away from her.

"I'm sorry," She can hear over her sobs," My love, I'm so sorry."

Familiar arms wrap around her. A familiar smell filling her senses and she grabs onto a familiar red jersey, pulling at it and forcing herself even closer.

"Go," She says," And celebrate."

"No," You reply, sitting down next to her and guiding her head to your shoulder where she could cry without cameras watching her," I'm staying right here."

"Your mothers-"

"Can wait," You insist," I want to be here. With you."

You've singlehandedly ruined Natalia's dreams. You had dangled a World Cup in her face and snatched it away again.

It was so close.

She was so close to being the first person to ever score a penalty against you.

Mere inches sat between her and the World Cup.

But you'd ruined it. You anticipated her change. You pushed away her penalty.

Last time, you'd scored Sweden's only goal. This year, you'd saved all of Spain's penalties.

You are Sweden's hero. Sweden's golden girl. Sweden's vice-captain and the greatest goalkeeper they've ever produced.

There is no hope of competing against you.

A World Cup won and a World Cup lost.

Magda and Pernille wait by the barrier. Talia can see them, ready to celebrate with you.

But you don't go anywhere.

You just hold her as she cries.

[mlmshipbracket]

ROUND 6: POLL #1 - Semifinals

ROUND 6 POLLS [HERE]

PROPAGANDA BELOW

Siffrin/Isabeau:

I've put mid paragraph spoilers in || brackets || and paragraphs of spoilers make "spoilers ->"

I should mention that them having romantic feelings for each other is a partial spoiler?

What if. A silly little he/they guy. But! He's really messed up emotionally and mentally. Like. Constantly puts others first to his own detriment and calls himself manipulative kind of messed up. Also he's in a time loop. NOT a fun one. But! There's this jock in his party that he can joke with. And they looove making him smile! And! That jock is head over heels for our tiny hero. But! Neither of them can admit their feelings! ||Even if they know the feelings are mutual!!|| AND THE JOCK DOESN'T KNOW HE'S IN A TIME LOOP!!! AND LITTLE GUY WON'T TELL HIM! CAUSE THEY DON'T WANT HIM TO WORRY!!

I love them sooo much! They are my favorite he/they x ||trans masc|| couple <3

Siffrin is soooo insecure and I'm 100% sure Isa could fix him if he wanted to. They love telling each other just the worst puns and jokes imaginable.

[SPOILERS] -> Isa was a big nerd before he decided he wanted to be a huge jock and now he wants to design clothes now that he saved his county (along side his other friends)

Siff is just a little guy (literally)(he is short) who loves the stars abs doesn't remember a lot about his past. He constantly worries if he's being enough for the rest of his companions and always tries his best to make sure they're happy. He has soooo much trouble seeing value in himself and prioritizing his own needs and it makes me soooo sad :( he deserves to have someone like Isa.

[SPOILERS] -> Siff knows that Isa wants to confess after thier battle w the bbeg, but siff can't get Ida to say it no matter what they try :(

Eustass Kid/Killer:

Propaganda by @chronoirrai [HERE]

Friends/lovers since childhood, would kill and die for each other. [SPOILERS for those who have not watched/read the Wano arc yet] Killer ate a defective SMILE fruit to safe Kid, making him unable to swim and show any other emotion than laughing (and gains him nothing), and he also knew exactly where to cut off Hawkins' arm so he wouldn't harm Kid (because he knows his body so well). Kid promises to kill whoever makes fun of his partner, and lets himself be recaptured after escaping prison because Killer had gotten himself captured.

If this ain't love idk what is.

The captain/right-hand man dynamic. They call each other aibou (partner). If your partner doesn't tell you that he will send whoever laughs at you to hell then he is not worth it. Killer hates his own laugh to the point that he stopped laughing out loud and started wearing a mask. But then he was forced to eat a defective devil fruit (because they promised he could see Kidd if he did) so he's been cursed to only laugh no matter what emotion he's trying to express. That's why Kidd said that, it's so full of weight for someone like Killer. And when Kidd was imprisoned and he worked so hard to escape, but as soon as he saw Killer being pulled into the same prison he just broke out from mans did not hesitate for even a second to go right back in.

[beauty-and-passion]

Eurovision 2023: the show of unfairness and the triumph of people’s hearts

My god, this year left me exhausted.

It’s 1:30 am, the Eurovision Grand Final just ended and I am starting to write this post now, because I need some time to calm myself before going to bed. And maybe putting down some thoughts about this year will help me find some peace - at least for a couple hours.

This year has not been what was supposed to be, starting from the show and ending with the winner.

But let’s start from the beginning.

______________________________

Ukraine: robbed of their own show

We all know Ukraine couldn’t host Eurovision in their country because of the war, so they asked the UK to do that.

And the UK tried to be a good host. They reminded us of the reason why Ukraine couldn’t do it, they tried to call Ukrainian artists and make the show about them... only to systematically forget it two minutes later and start acting as if they won and this was their show.

I hope now you understand why last year I said to not give them power over anything. The UK has a tiny little problem called “massive ego” and if you give them a little crumb, they will immediately scarf the whole cake down.

This year should’ve been 70% Ukraine themed and 30% UK themed. What we had instead was the other way around: the UK gave us a tiny little interval show in the semifinals about Ukraine, then a massive show all about the UK.

The Gran Final has been the icing on this disgusting cake. It started with a bang, featuring all of our favourite Ukrainian artists in the span of five minutes: Tina Karol (I had no idea she was Ukrainian, what a nice surprise!), goddess Verka, my beloved Go_A with The Only Queen That Matters, aka Kateryna Pavlenko. And, of course, our favourite winners: the Kalush Orchestra. Man Carpet is still an icon and I still wonder what the singer sees behind that pink hat, but I don’t care. It’s perfect, it’s great, I want this but 200x more. I want them to steal the show, I want them in all interval acts. But no worries, I’m sure they will definitely appear more during the final. I mean, there’s no way the UK called them just to appear for 20 seconds, right? Right?

Oh sorry, my bad. I forgot this isn’t Ukraine’s show, this is UK’s show. We should definitely have Sam Ryder in the interval act and we should definitely make it all about English songs. I mean, it’s not like there are four of the most beloved Ukrainian artists in Liverpool. Let’s make it all a huge masturbation session of the UK instead.

I apologize if my metaphor offended someone, but this is what I felt while watching the UK celebrating itself. Like... can’t you do this in a private room? Do I really have to watch it? This is just one step below Portugal’s show, which showed a massive ego as well and tortured me for three nights straight, by repeating how cool they were and how nice they were and how I would’ve done a great choice visiting them.

But even if that was torture, at least Portugal was the winner of the previous year, not a host masturbating over the fact they are allowed to host a show they didn’t win.

The only choice I fully approve of in this show is the postcards idea: that was very elegant and respectful and I want to thank the person who thought about it. The cards show Ukraine’s beautiful places, UK’s beautiful places and every country’s beautiful places. It’s all beautiful and it’s a great way to both honor Ukraine and emphasize UK’s hosting role, since it looks almost like the UK acts as a “connection” between Ukraine and every other country.

Unfortunately for us, this is the last proof of elegance we will see for the rest of the show.

______________________________

Danemark and Poland: robbed even before starting

Do you remember Danemark’s and Poland’s entries? I know, me neither. Bland, forgetful, two huge balls of nothing.

Well, I have a good news and a bad one. The good one is that Danish and Polish people are not insane and their musical tastes are actually way better than this. The bad news is that the two entries we got (Bejba and Tiktokkid) were not supposed to win their country’s competition, because the public’s favourites were different. But, like, VERY different.

Same thing happened last year for Spain, but at least Chanel was able to put on a great show - even if her song was boring. Danemark and Poland didn’t have that either: one gave us a meme, the other gave us nothing. Disappointing.

So let’s clean Danemark’s and Poland’s names, by listening to the artists they were actually supposed to bring. Let’s start with Danemark and please, tell me if the tiktok kid is better than this (if you dare):

And before you think: “oh my gosh, this could’ve been a great entry for Danemark!”, please listen to what Poland was supposed to bring:

I love this song. I love this cute nice boy. I love the classical vibes. And when I played this song for my father, my 70-year-old father told me, with no hesitation: “Oh, this is way better than the other one!”.

So if a 70-year-old can recognize how good this song is, then there’s no generational gap and it’s not true that people are accustomed to the same boring stuff. If a song is good, is good. If a song is bland, is bland.

By now you probably already heard from Polish people about how the voting system of their competition was rigged and how Blanka won thanks to the power of nepotism. So our duty as Europeans (and as people with some fucking taste) is to stream Gladiator, listen to all of his songs and shower this boy with love because he needs to know the world loves him.

And for you all, Polish people: thank you for making us know about your true winner. He really looks like one and we love him too.

______________________________

Germany: robbed while trying

I really cannot understand why people keep hating Germany this much. Is it still because of WW2? What did they do, to deserve the bottom of the chart? I know it’s funny, I know it’s for the memes ah ah ah, but also... come on. Come. On. Are you really telling me that Poland was better than Germany? Are you really telling me that the UK was better than Germany?

I can assure you that if Sweden brought this exact same song, the jury would’ve given this song 300 points. But hey, ThE jUrY iS iMpArTiAl, right?

German people: I don’t know why the world hates you. I think you would’ve gotten more votes, if only the system wasn’t so stupidly rigged and forced everyone to choose one winner only, hoping to defeat the jury’s sheer power. Personally, I enjoyed your song and I enjoyed Lord of the Lost and I will definitely listen to more of their songs to add to my playlist.

However, I also understand your frustration. So you know what? Just go nuts. Choose whoever the fuck you want to represent your country, attend Eurovision whenever you want and do whatever you want, give us insane shit and amazing stuff. You will be treated the same either way, so why give a fuck? Have fun showing your insane side, I will support you 100%.

______________________________

Italy and Israel: what did they ever do to deserve these places?

As an Italian, I am honored people gave so many votes to Italy. Seriously, thank you all, nice to know people appreciate our singers.

But also: why so many votes? Why? I know Mengoni is a good singer, he has a great voice and if this was a real singing competition he would’ve probably deserved to win.

But since Eurovision is not a singing competition, why all these points? Were people really so in love with this ballad? Why? What does he have I cannot understand?

Even more important: why Israel, with their stupid unicorn song, got all these votes? Why? Is it because she’s good-looking? Seriously? Are we still stuck thinking with our genitals, instead of using our brains? I thought Europe moved past the need of thinking with genitals only and started developing some good fucking taste.

Or did her amazing “dance moves” get the public? Ok, she’s very flexible... but do I really really have to remind you of Chanel? A small dance segment is really worth so many points, when last year we had someone who was able to sing AND dance as she did for the entire song? I didn’t even like Chanel, but I am mature enough to recognize that THAT was a show, while the unicorn lady did nothing more than a small dance. Definitely not worth 185 public votes.

At least I know that my country didn’t go insane and the true points (aka the public’s points) didn’t go to the unicorn but to Moldova. Thank god, we are still able to recognize what’s good.

______________________________

Finland: the real winner

When Eurovision started, I was sure Czechia would’ve been the winner. However, their performance wasn’t enough to grant them victory.

Finland, however, had everything a winner needs. And now I will explain to you why, because I love this funky green man and you should love him too.

1) “A little man from Vantaa”

Käärijä is a rare gem, not just for Eurovision, but in general. He’s a simple, genuine, silly guy, who comes from a city few people knew before. He doesn’t speak English too well, but he tries and fails in comically sweet ways. He’s a huge fan of Rammstein, so he’s a man of culture. He became besties with Bojan from the Slovenian band Joker Out and their bromance has been the best part of this Eurovision: these two share one single braincell and I love them for this.

But, most of all, he’s humble. He never considered himself above all others, even after his victory. He knew right from the start that it would’ve been a battle between him and Loreen and yet, he never grew arrogant about it. He always talked about their rivalry in funny ways, through memes and by treating her nicely. But he also never underestimated her: he always put his whole self into every performance, knowing full well he had to give everything, to reach the public’s hearts.

And he did. He reached the public’s hearts and like many others all over the world, I also love this little man. He’s genuine, he’s honest, he’s a fashion icon (Finland changes their flag to green when), his dancers are funky and nice like him. You look at him once and all you can think is: “I want to protect him at all costs”. It’s just impossible to hate this man.

2) His song is a banger

Not only his song is a fusion of three genres (industrial metal, hyperpop and hip-hop/rap), so he’s already serving you three songs in one, but the language he used is Finnish.

I’ve heard Finnish people saying that they never used their language because it’s “too weird”. People, that’s exactly because it’s weird that you should use it! You have this gem and you hide it to us?!

If you don’t know why Finnish is so great, please consider that while all other European languages are part of the Indo-European family, Finnish, Estonian and Hungarian are not. They are part of a completely different family (the Uralic languages).

That means they have nothing similar to any other European language. They are something completely different and new, a whole new world to explore. And they’re here, in our continent!

In addition to that, Finnish is an agglutinative language, which means words are formed by stringing together morphemes. How fucking cool is that? I love this kind of language!

As someone who studied English, French, German and Russian, Finnish is something that gets my attention. I can recognize similarities between Germanic, Slavic and Italic languages and I love them, but Finnish is an unexplored world. It’s made of sounds that well, sound familiar even if they’re not. It’s a constant surprise, you know?

Also, I love that it’s a language full of vowels because it makes me think of my own mother tongue (Italian). It’s a bit like feeling at home, even if our languages have nothing in common <3

3) The best performance of Eurovision 2023

I love the Croatian daddies like the next person (and I’m glad the public gave them the top 10 because they deserve it), but Käärijä’s performance had everything: it told us a story (i.e. how Käärijä slowly emerges from behind his barriers to join the party), he gave us the best stupid dance moves and there’s even a family-friendly human centipede. What else do you need, to start dancing?

Also, another shoutout to his dancers, because I live for those shocking pink dresses and for their immensely creepy expressions. And I live for the public always welcoming them with screams: they deserve it.

I know you already enjoyed it 200 times, but you know what? Let’s fucking destroy the views of this video and let’s watch it again. And also, let’s notice how much the public enjoys it. How much they screamed, how they sang with him, how they enjoyed this party.

Even without knowing Käärijä, you can feel he put his whole self into this. And the public felt it too.

And the final result was astonishing: he got 376 points from the public. It’s the second-highest public score, after Kalush Orchestra, who got 439 points.

If you notice, Käärijä’s percentage is even higher than Kalush Orchestra’s! And such a high result means one thing and one thing only: the public has chosen its winner. He is the winner. People are sovereign and people’s will has been very clear about it. So when I say he’s the winner, it’s not because I want to indulge him: it’s because it’s the fucking truth.

Also, please notice the kind of songs the public chose as their top 3 favorites: songs with nothing mainstream and native languages. All while the jury thinks what we want is the same boring shit we can hear on the radio 24/7.

______________________________

A painful evening

Let me start by making something clear: I don’t hate Loreen and I don’t hate Sweden. It’s not their fault if they win. They are just exploiting the situation, because they learned what the good formula is and keep using it over and over.

Loreen knows that if she sends another song that is just like all the others she made, she will get a high position. And now, thanks to yesterday’s victory, she knows she doesn’t even have to try. Why should she do something different, when doing the same thing twice made her win twice? Why try something different, why step out of her comfort zone? If she does the same thing, she can win. So she will keep doing the same thing.

Same goes for the entire country of Sweden. They learned that if they bring the most boring, generic pop song you can listen to on every radio on planet Earth, you will win. So, they will keep sending it. After all, a bland pop song is what the world is more accustomed to, so why change? Why do something different, when they can be teacher’s pet and always get a high score? This isn’t being stupid, this is being clever.

But is it elegant and fair too? Oh honey, absolutely not. This is the exact opposite of what elegance and fairness are.

On Saturday evening, when we reached the voting part of the show, the crowd literally CHEERED AND SANG Käärijä’s name or “Cha Cha Cha”. Multiple times.

Once the public clearly states who they want to win, then the competition is over. When the consensus is unanimous, there’s no competition anymore. The winner is already here. Everything else is just white noise and bureaucracy.

That’s what I felt, while I was forced to keep listening to a bunch of people loudly kissing Sweden’s ass. The public had already decided, we already have a winner. Why are we still wasting time?

And if forcing us to keep listening to this pitiful charade was not enough, the hosts decided to lose that shred of elegance that was still left on this joke of a show and not only shushed the public all time but even said “just ignore everyone”, as if their voices didn’t really matter. It’s not like this is a music competition and the public is the final receiver of said music, after all.

I don’t know you, but I don’t like to see the sovereign public being silenced and told they do not matter, all while a bunch of people takes the decisions for them. Maybe the Brits are accustomed to being silenced because an old rich man has to decide for them, but other countries don’t work like that. Like, you know, the one they’re hosting the competition for.

There was nothing democratic about Saturday evening. There was nothing fair in silencing the public and pretending they haven’t chosen their winner one hour ago, because teacher’s pet had to win again.

Do you really think Sweden deserved this victory more than Finland? Do you really think that a country that won six times needed to add this victory to their list, so they can say “ah ah we won as many times as Ireland”? Or just because they can do their stupid ABBA anniversary next year? Is this the reason why we choose our winner, now? The past glories of a country? Well, then in 2048 is the anniversary of Dana International’s winning song, let’s all go to Israel! And in 2056 we’ll go to Finland, because it’s the anniversary of Lordi’s winning. And in 2071 will be 50 years from the Maneskin’s victory, so let’s come back to Italy.

What, does that sound ridiculous? Tell that to the jury, then.

I feel immensely sorry for the Finnish people, because I read online how much this victory could’ve meant for them. This could’ve been so important, such a good chance to shine for a country that considers their language “too weird” and who hasn’t won in 17 years. And since they are stuck between that ticking bomb that is Russia and the always perfect Sweden, they really needed something that gave them more positive attention.

And it broke my heart even more to see Käärijä suffering. He even apologized to his nation. He did something amazing and he still apologized. He literally won and apologized for not winning. That’s unfairness to its finest.

And if all of this is not enough, the results of the public’s vote came out and oh, look, not a single country gave 12 points to Sweden, while almost every country gave 12 points to Finland. Wow, who would’ve fucking guessed that teacher’s pet won because of the teacher.

Again: does that seem fair and democratic to you?

______________________________

Oligarchy masqueraded as democracy

Let’s do a little bit of math, shall we?

Each national jury consists of five people + one backup juror. They supposedly vote for the best singer and performance- AHAHAH great joke, very funny.

But let’s not focus on this, now: let’s focus on numbers.

37 countries participated this year. So 37 x 6 = 222. The jury is made up of 222 people in total.

The entire population of Europe is around 451 million people, but let’s keep it low because Eurovision isn’t watched by all Europeans. Let’s take just the number of views on the Youtube streaming of the Grand Finale: 9.5 million people. Let’s round up to 9 million, okay?

Okay, so now we have 222 people on one side and 9 million people on the other. Let’s pretend that less than half of them voted at least one time.

Okay, now look me straight in the eyes and explain why the votes of 222 people should have the same weight as the votes of 4 million people. Please, explain to me how democratic this decision is, can’t wait to hear it.

But you know what? Even if it was 1 million voters only, that wouldn’t have been fair either. In no universe is fair to put one million voters on the same level as 222 voters.

There’s only one possible scenario in which this is fair: if Eurovision was a talent show specifically centered around performances and voices, with a jury made of vocal teachers and choreographers, and all I have to do is passively watch it on my couch.

But from the moment you gave the public the power to choose who the winner could be, then why do the votes of all the people from Europe (and Australia) have the same weight as what 222 people decided?

This isn’t a democracy. This is an oligarchy masquerading as a democracy: a bunch of people decides what you should like, basing their decision on their own interests. And you have no way to oppose them, unless you focus all your votes on one single artist, hoping it would defeat the one the jury chooses.

But this deprives Eurovision of the competition aspect. It’s not a competition if I have to endure a tug-of-war against the jury. It’s not a competition if I am forced to give all of my votes to one artist only, instead of spreading them out to all my favorites. And even in that case, basically all of Europe should vote for that specific artist to try and overcome the sheer power the jury has. Again: does this sound democratic to you?

Now you may say: but the jury is made of experts. Oh, you mean the same experts that proved multiple times they base their votes on politics, who their neighbor is and who can corrupt them better? Or do you mean the same experts that in the past made their choice even without listening to the songs?

The truth is that we have 222 people who can easily be influenced by anything and their power is as strong as the power of 4 million people at least. Four million people, who got invested and followed the entire show from start to finish, if I may add. Please, tell me about the fairness of this system again.

And before you say “but Eurovision is a music competition and we need experts”... sorry, but no. According to Wikipedia, the jury was present before televoting was born, but once televoting was extended to all competing countries (1997 ca.), the jury was no more. It came back only in 2009, with this unfair compromise of 50/50 between jury ad public votes.

So there was a period of time in which there wasn’t a jury and in that period we had the first win for Estonia, Turkey, Latvia, Greece, Finland, Serbia and Russia. How weird that, once the jury isn’t there, other nations have a chance to win too.

The thing is: Eurovision isn’t a simple music competition. It’s more like a window. A window where anyone can have their chance to shine. No matter if you’re from a well-known country and everyone knows who you are or if you’re from a tiny piece of land in the middle of nowhere and all you can do is speak your native language: if you have the right combination of song+performance+voice, you can win.

And it’s beautiful we have this window, because it allows us to see something we’ve never seen before: rock bands, silly songs, folk songs and straight-up weird songs. In Eurovision, you don’t have to listen to just the same generic bland song, but you are allowed to listen to different artists and different cultures - and if you like them, you are free to choose your winner, no matter how not mainstream it is.

And we Europeans need this. We need to celebrate the diversity of Europe and embrace them. We need to see people from different countries hanging out, having fun and becoming best friends. For a continent that has always had (and still has) a problem with wars, we need something that allows us to look at each other and not see a piece of land to conquer, but a place full of life and culture to learn about.

And since we pride ourselves to be the continent where democracy was born, let’s put this democracy in the show we’re so proud of. Do we really need the jury vote? Do we really need the vote of this bunch of people? Okay, let’s have them. But it’s not acceptable to give them the same weight as the public’s vote. 50/50 isn’t acceptable anymore. 20/80 is fairer. I’m feeling nice, we can even do a 30/70. It’s just not acceptable that 300 people should have power over millions over something those same millions will enjoy. As always, the public is sovereign.

And if the public’s taste is shit, at least we will be free to blame ourselves for something we brought unto ourselves - and not feel sick and angry over something others forced upon us.

Or everything can stay the same and the 50/50 system will keep going. But at least, be honest enough to not waste everyone’s time, by pretending the public can do something more than watch what a bunch of people decide for them. Do not pretend to be righteous and democratic, when you’re not.

______________________________

The triumph of people

This finale drained me. If it were just a little fairer, I would’ve been thrilled to see Luxembourg coming back after years. But right now I don’t feel like watching next year’s show. I know it will probably be amazing, because Sweden is very good at hosting. But I don’t want to see them masturbating over how good they are and how much they deserved to win - even if they didn’t win.

And, honestly, I don’t care about ABBA either. I don’t give a damn about them, nor about their anniversary. I’m definitely not looking forward to that either.

I will listen to the songs as always, then I might give it a try and watch the semifinals. It depends on how bitter my grudge will be, after one full year. If it will still be very bitter, I will probably spend my time better, by listening to the songs more times, watching the performances and making my own personal final chart. I won’t have ABBA or funny interval acts, but I can try my best to make it enjoyable to read. And it won’t be a fucking charade, at least.

Sorry, but I will keep being bitter for some time. And if you feel bitter too, you have every right to be, no matter what people say. Your voice has been silenced and ignored and numbers don’t lie. It’s very understandable you feel bad.

But you know what you can do? Use your anger in a positive way. And no, that doesn’t mean sending death threats to Loreen. You can accuse Sweden of its lack of elegance and decorum if you want, but always be polite. Don’t be like some of them, who are such sore losers they had the guts to be angry at Finland because it didn’t give Sweden any public points. Bo-hoo, may I add.

What you can do instead is make some noise: ask for the jury to be abolished or for this shitty system to change. And, even more important, support your winners. A lot of amazing artists have been wronged this year, so shower them with love.

And send your love especially towards our winner. Stream Cha Cha Cha, check his other songs, shower him with love and support, make a statue for him in Vantaa, pay me a plane ticket because I need to tackle him in a hug and tell him how much the world loves him. Let’s show the world that he slaps, Finnish slaps and we want more of this.

Do you still need more Cha Cha Cha in your life? Good news: Lord of the Lost made a cover for Cha Cha Cha and OH MY GOSH it’s insanely good. It has a lot of Rammstein vibes, it’s cool and it slaps even harder. Check it out because it’s amazing!

Also because the German singer learned some Finnish, just to spell every word correctly and, according to the Finnish people in the comment section, he did a great job. What a wholesome guy, I love and stan him and his band - and you should do the same, because they are amazing and they don’t deserve last place <3

And if you need more Käärijä in your life, there are amazing Youtube channels with great collections of his moments, like Eurovision Is Ambition and Uni Dash Corn. I especially suggest you see his bromance with Bojan - and speaking of him, another shoutout to Bojan! He’s such a nice, wholesome guy with great charisma, you cannot hate him. I am not head over heels for his song, but he’s so fucking wholesome, he deserves good things only.

And I also suggest you see how Käärijä has been welcomed in Helsinki. He has been welcomed like a fucking hero, a national treasure. And of course he was: he is the true winner after all, he deserved the welcome only winners get.

It’s a bit like he said in his apology: the better one won. And so he did.

You know, I think the only good thing that came out from this shitshow that was Eurovision 2023, is the people’s heart. People showed their kindness, their love, the best of humankind. We saw acts of friendship, we saw empathy and appreciation. The hug between Käärijä and Bojan, despite its sad meaning, is also a perfect example of what we all should be: kinder, softer, more empathetic, together, no matter how far and different our countries are.

In a way, I am happy that Ukraine’s message of unity was still carried out, even if indirectly and definitely not the way the UK wanted.

And in the end, the trophy isn’t so important: it’s just a piece of glass after all. And no piece of glass is worth the impact one little man from Vantaa left on so many people all over the world.

I know you will never read this post, but I wish you a lifetime of success, Käärijä. You have everything a winner needs and, in fact, you are one. So don’t be too hard on yourself, because the world still needs to show you how much it loves you. Take your time, relax, have fun and come back when you’re ready - just don’t leave us hanging for too much, ‘kay?

And you, Finnish people: please treat our beloved winner with love for us too. We will do our best from afar, so let’s be together on this as we should <3

[salmonskinrolltf]

Soulmates 2

[Here's a sequel of sorts to my previous story Soulmates (you don't need to have read it to understand this story). With thanks to @guytransformedforever, @beardobession, @tf-vigilante, @maletransformationlover, @clevertreephilosopher, @scorpionofredsand, and @maletffanatic for providing the photos used as inspiration.]

Hello, my name is Tyler. This is me:

And this is my roommate, Dylan:

Now look, I don’t have a problem with gay people. My cousin is a lesbian. And Dylan is a great roommate. Stays out of my way when we’re not gymming together, but is always down to hang when I need someone to talk to. I just wish he would be less in my face with all his gay shit. Rainbow flags everywhere, blasting Ariana Grande at all hours, constantly bringing new Grindr hookups back to the apartment but giving me side-eye when I ogle women. It’s just… too much for me.

Here’s the thing. I might actually be able to change that. I have this friend Evan, who I’ve wingmanned for on a few occasions over the past year. One night, when we were getting drunk together, he shared his secret with me. He has a magic gift. He clasped my hand and said “tomorrow, you will wake up and have this magic too.” And sure enough, the next day I could feel a tingle coursing through my veins, and I automatically had the knowledge of how to channel it.

Now I have the ability to change somebody’s future. I can’t fiddle with anything that’s innate or has already happened to them. Like, I can’t just make Dylan straight. But I can shape his future decisions or actions, and my magic will make alterations to speed the process along. Like if I made him decide to work out more, he would basically become a muscle beast within the week. Not that I’d do that. I still gotta be the alpha here. I just want to make him a little more… palatable. Someone cool to kick back with all the time, even if he sucks dick. Let’s see... I think I know what will work.

TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL BECOME OBSESSED WITH SPORTS

———————————

Hello, my name is Dylan:

Sports are my LIFE. I never cared about them much growing up, but about a month ago I felt the urge to join my local queer volleyball team and never looked back. It became my everything. It’s been great exercise, but on top of playing volleyball and getting totally jacked off of it, I’ve loved the sense of camaraderie. I love my team. So much so that I even pierced my nipples on a dare when we lost the semifinals. My teammate River also recommended I stop dyeing my hair, and I think the look is really working for me. For some reason, even though it’s only been a month, my hair has grown out significantly since then. Was the red dye stunting its growth or something? Anyway. I also feel like my roommate Tyler and I have really bonded. We’ve been watching baseball games together and I think he appreciates how into it I am. He says he’s excited to bro out while watching football together in the fall.

I love Tyler, but here’s the thing. Maybe I love him too much. I’ve always had this huge crush on him, and no matter how many random Grindr hookups I try to distract myself with, I just can’t stop hoping that one day he’ll give up women for good and decide he loves me. Especially now that we’re spending all this time together, bumping chests when our team wins and shit.

I know us getting together is never going to happen, but I have this… temptation. I was born with a gift. Or maybe I wasn’t. Something my twink friend Paul told me made me think maybe he had something to do with it. Anyway, I have the ability to reshape someone’s past. I change just one thing about their past, and everything about their present just ripples forward to reflect that change. It’s a delicate art. Changing something big can have huge effects that are totally unpredictable. It’s a major temptation to make Tyler gay, but who knows how he’d turn out. Plus, I think that’s just too invasive.

But… Maybe I could change something small about him. Something that would make him less my type, and allow me to move on and focus on finding a boyfriend who would actually be into me. I’m into nice guys. I really love how kind and caring he is. And come on, he’s a FIREFIGHTER. So maybe I can try…

TYLER GREW UP SELFISH AND SPOILED

———————————

What’s up, I’m Tyler.

You dig the jacket? Yeah, I’m still a firefighter, I’m just off duty. But babes dig whatever look I rock, you know what I mean? I get what I want, and what I want is a lot of one night stands. I know how to get ‘em, too. I’m so glad I made the decision to grow this beard out a year ago, it’s opened so many doors for me. And opened a lot of legs.

I’m getting what I want from Dylan, too. Finally, I have a roommate who’s willing to grab brews and watch the game with me. But I think I fucked up when I changed him. Queer volleyball isn’t exactly “sports,” at least not in my book. I thought he’d come out like a linebacker or something! I mean, nipple rings were never part of the plan. The gay guys seem to really go for them, too, so he’s got an even steadier stream of Grindr hookups coming in and out of the place.

On top of that, I’m a little sick of his shit. He’s always giving me lip about stupid stuff like leaving my dishes in the sink or dropping my unwashed uniform on the bathroom floor. He says it’s unsanitary. Like his parade of twinks aren’t dying to sniff that shit anyway. He just doesn’t get it. I think his volleyball teammates are a bad influence too. They’re all so obsessed with aesthetic and anti-hetero rhetoric. I still can’t make him straight, but I can definitely make him less… annoying.

TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL START HANGING OUT WITH MORE STRAIGHT PEOPLE WHO WILL HELP HIM STOP WORRYING ABOUT STUPID SHIT AND BE LESS PRISSY, WELL-GROOMED, AND UPTIGHT

———————————

Yo, I’m Dylan.

Yeah, I cut my hair shorter than the last time you saw me. The upkeep was just getting to be too much, y’know? A couple weeks ago, about the time I dumped that lame-ass volleyball team I was on, I just got bored with shaving every day, too. I invested in a trimmer and now I rock the stubble look, and it’s working for me. I’ve gained a bit of weight since then, and it’s all for the better because I joined my local football league. Having a few extra beers with my new buds afterward just adds to my potential as a linebacker, anyway.

I thought hanging out with more straight people would make me get used to their vibe and kinda inoculate me against Tyler, but I’m still totally obsessed with him. He’s more of a bad boy now, but I’m finding that less unappealing than I used to. Plus, he’s still parading around in his uniform all the time. I can’t help it! I’ve jerked off more times that I can count to his Mr. June photos in the local firefighter calendar.

Whenever I see his mom, she’s constantly going on about how, out of all his Tonka toys growing up, the fire truck was always his favorite. She thinks that’s why he grew up to be a firefighter. Maybe I can change that core memory into something a little more… disreputable. That would definitely make him not my type anymore. I hope.

TYLER’S FAVORITE TOY GROWING UP WAS A TONKA MOTORCYCLE

———————————

Fuckin’ A, man, I’m Tyler.

God, I love my hog. She’s a beaut, ain’t she? My parents wanted me to grow up to be a doctor or a lawyer or a firefighter or some shit, but all I ever wanted to do was ride my hog. Chicks want to ride my hog too, and I let them. As long as they don’t go near my bike! Hahaha, get it? Fuck, I love life. Let me take another drag on this stogie real quick.

Where was I? Oh yeah, my roommate, Dylan. I wish I didn’t have to room with anyone, but my boss at the garage keeps refusing to promote me. I should knock him around one of these days, see if that changes his mind. Anyway, sure, Dylan isn’t so much of a priss anymore. He doesn’t give me shit if I leave my grease-stained clothes on the couch or light up when we’re watching a football game.

But I wanted him to be straight-acting, you know? I tried to train him up as my wingman but he wore a super gay shirt with all these see-through holes to the party, and all the chicks kept their eyes on him the whole time! Fucker. Why can’t he be more like his brother? I’ve seen pictures. That dude is a full on redneck slob, got a Confederate tattoo and everything. I know they had the same backwater-ass trailer trash upbringing, why can’t he be rougher around the edges? You know what… maybe he can!

TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL REALIZE HE WANTS TO EMBRACE HIS WHITE TRASH UPBRINGING

———————————

Hey y’all, I’m Dylan.

Hoo-ee, life has been good lately. I dunno why I resisted my good ol’ boy roots for so long. This goatee really makes me look rugged, dunnit? Also the chest hair. So grabbable. I decided to stop shaving my body, and poof! There it went. A full rug, within like two days I reckon. Like a sign from God. This is how I was always meant to be.

I know I was trying to push away my crush on Tyler by making him not my type, but what’s the fuckin’ point? I need someone who can handle me, and this hot as fuck biker dude I’ve created might be the only one who can handle me at this point. I ride ‘em rough and bareback, just like the horses back home, and weak city dudes just can’t handle it.

Will he be the same if he’s not straight? Maybe not. But as long as he can take my eight inches, I’ll keep him around. I vaguely remember having some sort of compunction about changing him so drastically, but I’m too horny to remember what it was.

Fuck it.

TYLER WAS BORN GAY

———————————

Uh… hi. I’m Tyler. Who are you again?

Sorry, I’m pretty forgetful. Daddy Dylan says I don’t gotta remember shit though, as long as I let him ride me as rough and as long as he likes. He’ll do all the rest for me. He tells me where to go, what to do, who to do. There are so many nice, hot guys who are willing to pay our rent if I turn a few tricks. I love it.

I’ve been like this as long as I can remember. My mom and dad kicked me out when I was 18, in my senior year of high school. I was caught sucking my English teacher’s dick behind the locker rooms. I never went to college after that, but it’s not like I was getting good grades anyway. Sucking Mr. Brentmon’s cock wasn’t for my health, you know. He had a nice juicy one, too. I still dream about it sometimes.

What was I saying? Oh yeah, I took up with this biker gang for a while after getting kicked out. I’ve always had a thing for bikers. But once they got through using my ass, they got bored. It was hard for a while, but now things are oh, so easy. I get all the dick I could ever want. I have a roof over my head, and no job to worry about. All I do is go to the gym and eat and fuck and I never have to think. Dylan said he might take me out muddin’ sometime too. I don’t know what that is, but anything Dylan does is fun. Fuck, I love the way his goatee tickles my skin when he kisses me, so rough, so manly. Way manlier than I’ve ever been. It’s so fucking hot. I love how he takes care of me.

I really have no complaints. I wouldn’t change anything about my life, even if I could remember how…

[leilakisakabiri]

Loved the promises we keep ❤️, could I request for Gavi, where his obsessed with the reader (in a good way) and is very overprotective with her and their friends tease him about it ?

Match Day (Gavi)

Summary: You’ve never gone to any of Gavi’s games despite being his girlfriend. The day you finally decide to go things go far from planned.

Warning(s): This is important so please read. This post has some content related to death and kidnappings involving small children. If that is a sensitive topic for you at all, please do not read further.

A/N: Guys I can never write requests the correct way. I know what this request is supposed to be, but when I start writing I just start coming up with ideas and then the end result is always a little different than I intended. So anon, I know I made it probably a lot different than you expected but I hope you still like it, and thanks for the support! Please send requests guys I have no idea what to write about.

Word Count: 4.1k+

Masterlist

You bit your lip anxiously, brows furrowed, as you read the comments on Gavi’s latest Instagram post. The two of you had been dating for nearly a year now, making your relationship public about three months ago. Since then you had been plagued with comments every day, people feeling the need to criticize everything you did, whether it was the way you posed in a photo, what you wore, or even how much you posted Gavi on your account. Nothing you did seemed to stop the backlash. 

Now, however, the comments had shifted, you were no longer being bombarded daily about mundane things, instead, the comment section of Gavi’s post had been flooded with apologies and I feel so bad for hims. 

Someone pointed out a few days ago that you had never attended a single one of Gavi’s games. Since then, people had gone crazy speculating if the two of you were still together, and if so, then why you weren’t supporting him like any normal girlfriend would do. 

The comments only worsened with Gavi’s latest Instagram post which he shared after winning the UEFA semifinal against Italy. He thanked all his team members, the coaching staff, his family, and you for helping him to achieve his dreams and pushing him to be the best. 

His fans had not taken kindly to that. His entire comment section was filled with people urging him that he could do better or chastising you for not supporting him. 

You felt a pang of guilt as you continued looking through the comments. It’s not that you didn’t want to support him, or that you felt like you were above him in any way. In fact, you were always the first one to tell him how proud you were of him, always in awe of his abilities. You made sure to watch every single game, texting him whenever something especially exciting happened on the pitch to share your thoughts, whether it be something as small as a “the ref is wack” or a “you’re so insane I can’t believe you made that goal, my brain can’t process how you did that so effortlessly.”

Gavi knew that you would support him in anything, and he always made sure to remind you that even though you weren’t there it still meant so much to him that you would take the time out of your day to cheer him on. In the end, you supposed that’s all that really mattered, however, you just couldn’t shake the feeling that you were in the wrong. 

Although he always told you it didn’t matter to him, you knew it was a lie. You had seen how excited he was when you guys first started dating and he had asked you to wear his jersey to his game. You had also seen the disappointed look on his face when you gently declined, explaining to him why you wouldn’t be able to come. 

He understood, and never asked again, but in the back of your mind you knew he wished you were there supporting him like everyone else’s partners did. 

Your anxiety was something you never shared a lot with anyone. None of your friends knew it played such a big part in your life, assuming if you canceled plans, it was because you just didn’t feel like going. And you played into it, becoming branded as the flake in the friend group because you would always back out of plans once a location was set. 

One time you had agreed to go to the beach with your friends, everyone excited for a day of barbecuing and swimming in the salty ocean. That plan had quickly been canceled, however, once it had started downpouring and after much back and forth everyone had decided to play tourist for the day and go visit the Sagrada Familia. After seeing that text, you immediately dropped out of the plans, informing everyone that you had gotten food poisoning even though an hour earlier you were packed and ready for the beach. 

The truth was that you suffered from severe panic attacks, usually triggered by large crowds. 

Growing up your parents had both been in law enforcement, with your mother being a well-established Defense Attorney and your father being a credited Private Investigator. 

They often told stories from their jobs at home, much to your brother’s entertainment, certain cases they were working on that had just closed, or new leads that were quick to transform into cold cases. 

There had been one case however that had stuck with you, haunting you for years, causing you to always make sure that your windows were closed, and your door was locked like a mantra every night before bed. 

The missing person's case involved a young nine-year-old girl, the same age as you were when you had first heard it, who had been spending a beautiful summer day visiting the local fair with her family. She had been prancing around, going from vendor to vendor, seeing what prizes they had. It had only taken a second for someone to lay their eyes on her and attack, grabbing her forcefully before turning and disappearing into the crowd. No one could do anything, everyone searched, but there were too many families, too many young girls that matched her description. It was useless. 

“Poor girl and to think she was taken just because she wanted to get a better look at the pink stuffed bear. I hope the family at least gets closure.” Your mother said, shaking her head sadly. 

Your brother piped up beside you, “Won’t they find her though?”

She gave him a sad smile, “It’s very unlikely hijo, she went missing on Wednesday. Usually, if they’re gone for longer than 24 hours the chances of them coming back are very slim.” 

Your breath had stopped after she uttered those words. Even at nine, the realization had kicked in – you had been at the fair that same day, blissfully licking a popsicle and chatting with your friend, naïve and unaware that probably a hundred feet away from you a young girl was being ripped away from her parents, never to be seen alive again. 

You hadn’t even heard her screams or pleas for help, and you had been right there. 

The thought made you feel sick to your stomach, bile rising in your throat. If it was that easy to kidnap someone and take them away even when they were surrounded by people that knew them, then what was stopping something like that from happening again? Who’s to say you wouldn’t be next? 

Since that day your demeanor had shifted drastically, no longer were you the same bubbly, outgoing kid, who would never shut up and always dragged her parents to new places. You had shrunk into yourself, biting your nails anxiously, eyes darting to look for nearby exits in every new location. 

Your parents had taken notice of your sudden personality shift and tried to help the best they could, never bringing up cases again, even going out of their way to avoid places packed with people because they knew how easily it scared you, but the damage had already been done. 

That fear, as silly as it may seem, carried into your teen years, swelling into full-blown panic attacks that were triggered by large crowds or noisy places.

The first person you had shared your condition with, aside from your family, had been Gavi. 

Your friends relentlessly teased Gavi saying that he was making you even more scarce than you used to be in group hangouts, declaring that he wanted you all to himself. Gavi took all the teasing with a smile and a shoulder shrug, never denying or admitting anything, and you knew he only did it because he loved you. 

It couldn’t have been easy for him to miss hanging out with his friends, whom he rarely got to see in the first place due to his busy schedule, simply to stay back with you so you wouldn’t have to be alone, but he did it every time anyways. If you didn’t go, he didn’t go, simple as that. 

You squeezed your eyes shut; you knew you owed it to him. 

He was always bending backwards, willing to accommodate any of your silly requests just because it made you feel safer. You knew it was time to step out of the box you had locked yourself in for way too long. 

You glanced at the time, you had about thirty minutes until kick-off. You knew you would be late, but if you left within the next fifteen minutes you were confident you could make it before halftime. 

You hyped yourself up. You were going to do this. No going back now. 

You went to turn off the TV that had been droning on in the background, fingers hovering over the power button when an ad caught your eye. 

It was an old speech from Martin Luther King, “Courage is the power of the mind to overcome fear.” He spoke before the screen cut to a page urging individuals to join the troops. 

You let out a loud laugh, not believing what you were seeing, who knew an ad for the national army would get you so emotional? You weren’t someone who was super into manifestation but even you couldn’t deny this felt like a sign.  

Wait a minute why was an ad for the US army playing in Spain?

You decided not to think too hard about it, instead focusing on getting ready. You dug out the jersey Gavi had given you all those months ago and put it on. You rushed to get all your things about to head out of your apartment when you realized one crucial item was missing. 

You didn’t have tickets. 

You let out a groan, trying to think of what to do. You wanted to surprise Gavi so you obviously couldn’t tell him, and it was so close to kick-off that tickets were no longer being sold. 

You fell back onto your couch in defeat. Now what? 

Suddenly you shot up, hands searching for your phone, you sent a quick text to Anna, one of Gavi’s teammate's wife’s asking her if she would be able to help you.

She responded right away telling you to come to the stadium and that she would meet you at the ticketing line. 

Bless her heart. 

You thanked her over and over again as you rushed to the stadium, adrenaline pumping. 

You were in awe once you got off the train, Camp Nou was the biggest thing you had ever seen in your life. It was massive, expanding probably over a hundred feet in the air. You giggled seeing Gavi’s face blown up on one of the billboards. 

You reached the ticketing line, thanking whatever higher power was looking out for you that it was empty. 

“Hi sir, I’m here to meet a friend. She said she’s on her way down.” You informed security once you reached the gate entrance. 

“Ticket?” He asked not even sparing you a glance. 

“Oh sorry – uhm my friend has my ticket, and she’s inside.” 

He finally looked at you, “No ticket. No entry. Now leave.” 

“I understand that, but if you could just give me a minute I’m going to call-“ 

“I’ll tell you one more time, if you don’t have a ticket, you’re not getting in. Leave.” 

You huffed, backing away, pointing at your phone, “I’m just gonna call her, okay?” 

He glared at you, and you gave him an awkward smile, unsure what to do. You went to dial Anna’s number when you heard someone yelling your name. You looked up, seeing Anna waving crazily as she approached the security guard. 

“Let her in, she’s with me.” 

You quickly walked over to them, waving back at her. 

“She doesn’t have a ticket.” The guard replied in a bored tone. 

“That’s fine! She doesn’t need a ticket to go to the box, she’s with me.” Anna argued. 

The guard pointed at your neck, “She doesn’t have a family pass. I can’t let her in.” 

Anna huffed, “Well I do! And I’m saying she fine, she’s one of the player's girlfriends.” She held up her badge showing her VIP status. 

The guard only continued to glare at her, “If she was really a player’s girlfriend, she would have already had a pass. I’m not letting her in.” 

You groaned, annoyed at yourself for not coming sooner. You knew that no one at the stadium aside from the players probably knew who you were, you just hadn’t realized how many problems it would create once you did come. 

“Don’t make me get Antonio.” Anna threatened. 

Finally, the guard seemed to break, his eyes turning wide, “You wouldn’t.” 

She nodded her head slowly, “I totally would.” 

He gave you one more spiteful glare before he stepped aside allowing you to pass. You thanked him quickly, only getting a grunt in response before you greeted Anna. 

“Thank you so much for coming to get me.” You said, hugging her. 

She laughed as she guided you through the stadium, “No worries. I thought Marco might be the one guarding tonight, he takes his job too seriously.” 

You smiled, “Yeah he seemed a little tough.” 

She rolled her eyes, beginning to walk up the steps to the family section, “That’s an understatement. He’s been working here for like ever. Since before Robert even moved here. I remember the first couple of times I came to see a game and he was always interrogating me, even after I showed him my badge! I think he’s just mad, he never got a promotion.” She exclaimed. 

She led you to the seats, introducing you to all the other girls. 

“So, what made you finally decide to come?” She asked once the both of you were settled. 

You looked around the stadium, seeing that the game was nearly through the first half, with only 15 minutes remaining. 

“Change of heart I guess.” You answered vaguely, not wanting to dive too deep into it. 

She nodded her head, “Well anyways I’m sure Gavi will be so excited when he sees you.” 

You chuckled next to her, unsure if that was the reaction he would have. 

Ever since you had opened up to Gavi about your anxiety he had been a huge support system for you, always pulling you aside to make sure you were comfortable with a situation, and he tried to avoid putting you in situations where he felt your anxiety would spike, meaning that he had banned you from all his games and practices. 

You knew he would probably be shocked to see you in the stands, but you hoped he wouldn’t be so worried that he would slip up in the game. 

While he had maintained that football would always be his number one priority everyone could see a shift in his demeanor since he met you. No longer was he staying hours after practice, trying to achieve the perfect curveball, instead he was putting his all during practices then driving to your apartment, annoying you while you did your homework, and passing out on the couch with you in his arms, a random movie playing in the background. 

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you heard the halftime whistle. You saw Robert look up at the stands, presumably searching for Anna, before he made eye contact with you, eyebrows lifting in surprise. 

He waved and walked over to Gavi pointing at the section you were in. 

The midfielder raised his head at his teammates’ shouts, looking up at the stands with a confused expression. 

His family already said they couldn’t come today. 

His eyebrows only furrowed further when he couldn’t pinpoint a difference. Everyone was the same. 

His heart stopped, and he instinctively put his hands over his eyes, blocking out the lights, to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. 

He felt his heart rate increase rapidly and his eyes widened, because there you were, sitting pretty in his jersey, a shy smile on your face as you waved down at him. 

He continued to stare at you, not believing what he was seeing. He felt anxious for you, just thinking about you sitting there surrounded by thousands of people. He quickly broke eye contact rushing into the tunnel. 

You sat back in your seat confused at his actions. Was he not happy to see you? Why did he leave so abruptly? 

You got your answer a moment later when your phone started beeping repeatedly indicating the flood of text messages you were receiving. 

You opened it seeing them all being from Gavi, asking what you were doing here, if you were okay, if you felt safe. 

You smiled at how gentle he was with you, going to respond. You were in the middle of reading a text when he sent another message causing you to lose your place. 

You groaned, secretly finding it adorable how stressed he was for you. You sent him a message letting him know that you were okay, but it took five minutes of back and forth for you to convince him that you weren’t going to have a panic attack in the next twenty seconds. 

In all honesty, you felt fine. Yes, every now and then the thought that you were surrounded by so many people would pop into your head, but it was starting to get easier to ignore, you just had to remind yourself that you were next to people who knew you. Plus, the game itself was an easy distraction, and after the second half started you found yourself getting into the game, yelling at the ref whenever they made a poor decision, and cheering on Barcelona as they made their way up the field.

“Oh fuck off, that should have been a freekick!’ You shouted after Pedri had been slide tackled aggressively, resulting in the boy landing rather awkwardly on his ankle. 

Anna was quick to agree next to you, “C’mon, he didn’t even touch the ball. Don’t be a loser!” 

You giggled at her words, enjoying how she always said whatever came to her mind. She grinned at you shrugging her shoulders as if to say she did nothing wrong. 

You continued watching the game, leaning against the railing as you both chatted about your lives, interrupting each other every couple of minutes to shout something about the game. 

Before you knew it the game was over, Barcelona sealing the win with a goal in the 87th minute, securing their 2-0 lead, scored by none other than Gavi himself. 

You screamed, jumping around as he celebrated, running over to your section with the biggest smile on his face, kissing the crest on his jersey before he pointed up at you, mouthing the nickname he always called you. 

You grinned back at him sending him down a heart which he immediately reciprocated before being tackled by his teammates. 

Once the other team had left the field the celebrations started. All the players started to walk towards the fan section, taking off their jerseys and handing them to fans. 

Anna had pulled you down the stairs with her, letting you know it was time to go see the guys. 

You were ecstatic taking in the buzzing atmosphere around you, cheers of joy filled the air, and the stadium was filled with red and blue confetti. 

Had this been what you had been missing out on the whole time? 

You were so focused on making sure not to lose Anna in front of you that you hadn’t noticed the flock of people behind you, all rushing down the steps hoping to get to the players in time to get a photo or autograph. 

You were about halfway down when you were suddenly shoved from behind causing you to lose your balance. You knew what was going to happen the second your feet left the ground, you shut your eyes, hands reaching out to stop your fall, but it was useless. 

You landed on the ground with a hard thud, body slamming into the concrete steps, head hitting the railing on your way down. 

Everything felt like it was moving in fast motion, all the bodies around you moved at a sickening pace, blurring together as you lay motionless on the ground, vision hazy as you tried desperately to calm the pounding of your heart. 

You pushed yourself into action as soon as you regained some consciousness. You pushed past the legs rushing past you and pulled yourself to the side, where empty seats greeted you. You made a move to sit up but let out an audible gasp, hands going to clutch your left rib, your brain short-circuiting from the throbbing pain. You bit your lip, pleading with yourself to not over hyperventilate and make a scene. 

Gavi, who had been watching you intently, eyes never leaving your figure as you made your way to him, was quick to respond to the situation. 

As soon as he realized you went down, he was running, jumping over the barricade as he shoved past the people trying to grab onto him, thrusting jerseys and papers in his face for him to sign.  

He felt his body pulse with anger, jaw locked, as he ran up the steps. He could faintly hear security yelling at him to come down, but he paid them no mind, only focused on getting to you. 

He kept replaying the moment he saw you fall again and again in his head and each time he thought about it he only grew more livid. How dare someone shove you like that? 

He finally reached you, shouting at people to move out of the way as he shoved through the crowd. 

His eyes were wild and frantic as he grabbed you, helping you to a sitting position. You could see how quickly his chest was rising and falling and you wanted to tell him to breathe but the words failed to come out. 

His hands gently touched your rib, applying pressure to help soothe the pain, “Are you okay baby? I’m so sorry.” 

He looked so scared, and you all wanted to do was reach out and remove the lines of stress you could see forming on his forehead. 

“I’m sorry are you-” The man who pushed you spoke up, realizing what had happened. 

Gavi was quick to cut him off, eyes blazing as he spun around to face the man, “How fucking dare you.” 

The guy held his hands up in surrender, “I didn’t see her!”

Gavi only grew more frustrated, taking a menacing step closer to him, teeth clenched, but you grabbed his hand, shaking your head, your voice weak, “It was an accident. Please don’t.” 

Gavi’s expression softened once he looked at you, watching you clutch your side in pain as you pleaded with him. He sighed, giving the man one last glare before he backed off coming to your aid. 

He pushed your hair out of your face, tilting your face, searching for any bruises. 

He sighed in relief when he didn’t see anything. He went to remove his hand and you felt his breath hitch. 

You looked up at him only to see him already staring at you with a beyond worried expression, face distraught, “Shit Y/n you’re bleeding from your head.” He spoke, showing you the blood coating his hand. 

You felt yourself let out a breathy laugh, “Well at least I didn’t get kidnapped.” 

He narrowed his eyes at you, not appreciating the joke, “I’m serious Y/n. This is bad.” 

You reached out to grab his hand in your own, “I’m going to be fine. See the medics are already here.” You said, moving your gaze to the medical staff who was climbing the bleachers rapidly, eyes fixed on you. 

You felt him squeeze your hand as the medics surrounded the two of you, “You’re never coming to another game again.” He warned. 

You smiled at him, squeezing back, “Think I might have to break that rule."

[peachhcs]

losing the championships

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

will's self-doubt creeps in after losing the finals making him snap at the one person who's always there for him, almost making her turn her back on him.

2.6k words

warnings: a bit of angst, arguing, crying, this is a sad post in general

ik im feeding y’all rn but i feel weird putting this out in two days and not now haha, but guys you know i had to do it. i had to get the angst out. i think this is like the first angsty post in the series?? i hate when there is angst, but i love writing it lmao. i'm not sure how accurate some of this is, but i hope the trio stays on for another season!! i'd actually be devestated if they don't. anyways keep requesting!! <3

au masterlist

it didn’t feel real. nothing felt real watching her best friends crumple to the ice in utter defeat and heartbreak just two days after winning the semifinals. samy stood up in the stands nearly motionless while everything around her fell silent. she didn’t think those moments were actually real whenever they played in movies, but here she was hardly focusing on anything but her best friends in tears. 

her eyes couldn’t leave ryan on his knees with his face in the ice. she just wanted to wrap all of them into her arms so none of them would feel this type of pain anymore. 

the stupid jumbotron panned to everyone’s reactions, basically putting the boys on full blast when they most definitely didn’t want anyone to see them crying like they were. samy’s heart only broke further when she finally looked down at her boyfriend trying to hold himself together while comforting a sobbing ryan and teary gabe. 

her own eyes grew teary seeing those three so destroyed not knowing what was next for any of them. that was probably the scariest part. 

when will searched for samy’s gaze the waterworks broke like a dam for the couple. the youngest hughes was completely crying and will’s shame settled into his skin that he lost the game without even scoring a single point. 

their coach urged the boys down the tunnel before the cameras could get any more shots of them. samy tried pulling herself together, but her hiccuping cries didn’t stop slipping out no matter how hard she tried holding them in. 

boston’s side of the lobby was nearly silent which almost mirrored michigan’s team two days ago. suddenly, seeing those happy memories wasn’t as easy anymore. samy’s mind raced wondering if this game really was the last for her favorite trio or if they’d stay on one more season with boston. 

thirty minutes passed before the bc boys slowly trickled out of the locker room. their bloodshot eyes and tear stained faces were enough to send more tears into samy’s own eyes. her lip quivered waiting for her boyfriend to appear, but he didn’t come out after his usual spot behind ryan and gabe. the two boys found samy’s gaze, frowning even deeper. 

“hey, i’m so sorry. i-i have no words,” samy brought them into big hugs hoping to ease a bit of their ache. 

“what a fucking night,” ryan muttered bitterly. 

“you guys played well. those refs were idiots making calls,” the brunette shook her head. 

“will’s still in there. he’s..he’s not taking this one too well. you can go in if you want, but he may explode. I i don’t want you to think he’s mad at you, he’ll just find something to take his anger out on,” gabe explained briefly. samy’s eyes slid towards the locker room doorway where her boyfriend hid. 

“don’t worry, i know how he gets. I’ll see if i can talk to him,” she couldn’t be scared of will. 

he was her best friend and boyfriend. he’d never intentionally hurt her and if he said things, she knew he was just angry with himself, not her. the girl shuffled her way towards the locker room trying to put on a brave face for will’s sake. 

she knocked on the door before slowly pushing it open. her eyes scanned the practically empty room until she found her boyfriend slumped in his stall at the end of the benches. her hands trembled as she slid further in and leaned against the door. 

“will?” 

his eyes snapped towards hers. he looked like a mess and that only unleashed more waterworks seeing him in this state. it wasn’t one samy saw him a lot in, so when she did, it hurt extra hard. 

“if you’re here to try and make me feel better, i don’t wanna hear it,” the boy mumbled bitterly which quickly caught samy off guard. 

she wasn’t expecting that from him so immediately. 

“i’m not. just here to be with you,” the girl said, trying to hide the shake in her voice. 

“well, i’m not really in the mood to be around anyone right now. just go. i’ll be out in a few minutes,” the bitterness in his voice definitely stung, but samy tried shaking him off knowing he was just upset. 

“will..” she inched forward, wanting to reach out to him. he looked as if anyone touched him he’d just break into a million pieces. 

“i said go. i don’t need your fucking sympathy. i feel feel like shit,” the blonde snapped this time making samy instantly draw back. 

“i know you’re upset, i get it. this loss fucking sucks. i’m just trying—” 

“you don’t fucking get it, samy! i just lost the championship game 2-0. we scored zero points. you know how fucking embarrassing that is? i’ve been trying to prove myself all season about how good i can be and then i lose the championship game. you’ll never fucking get it!” there it was. 

will’s tone rose with anger and hurt all mixed into one. samy swallowed the nerves climbing higher in her stomach as she tried remembering none of this was really directed at her. she was just the person will was getting his anger out on. 

“i-i do get it, will. remember my championship game in december? we choked. i-i get it, i do. it sucks and i’m so sorry it ended this way. i wish it didn’t—”

“stop saying you get it. it’s not the fucking same. you’ve never had to work for anything in your life because of your family!” 

the blonde’s harsh words finally hit a nerve. samy’s face twisted and she didn’t know anymore if he really didn’t mean it or not, but through the anger, will realized what he said. 

“samy..i didn’t—”

“fuck you, will. you of all people should know how hard i’ve worked to be where i am right now. i know you’re upset about everything right now, but you don’t need to bring me down to make yourself feel better. don’t bother waiting up. i’m leaving with ryan and gabe,” samy stormed out of the locker room before will could say anything more.

the tears streamed down her face as soon as she was in the lobby again. ryan and gabe instantly noticed her distraught expression, immediately going to her. 

“shit, what happened?” ryan muttered. 

“can we just go? i can’t deal with him right now,” samy choked out. the two exchanged a worried glance, but obliged. 

the whole ride back to the hotel was nothing but silence as everyone reeled from the disappointing night. 

—

gabe let samy camp out in his hotel room for the night. he didn’t dare ask her what happened in the locker room knowing she’d tell him if she wanted to; however, the dark-haired boy wanted to go knock some sense into will knowing he most definitely snapped too hard at samy which made her want to avoid him. 

it was almost two in the morning when there was a small knock. still awake, the two exchanged wary glances, so gabe got the door. 

he pulled it open to reveal a very weary, teary-eyed, sad, and frustrated will. for a moment, gabe almost let him in, but he stopped himself because he didn’t want the boy blowing up at samy again. the girl sat nervously on the bed just out of sight of the door listening in on them.

“is she here?” will rasped out, voice dry from the amount he cried after samy left the locker room and getting back to the hotel. 

“i’m not sure i wanna answer that,” gabe stood his ground. 

“come on, perreault. leno said he didn’t have her,” will tried again. 

hearing how wrecked he sounded broke samy’s heart all over again. gabe gazed back at her, a look in his eyes asking her if she really wanted to see him. 

even though he insulted her, something in samy was still trying to justify it for him being upset and angry. she really wanted to believe he didn’t mean it. with that, the girl crawled off the bed and shuffled her way behind gabe’s 6’1 figure. 

“we can talk in your room,” samy mumbled. 

“o-okay,” the shake in her boyfriend’s voice made samy want to lunge herself at him and make all the pain go away, but she had to stand up for herself still. 

“you’re sure?” gabe wondered before letting her go. 

“i’m sure. i’ll see you tomorrow,” she rubbed his arm and stepped around him. 

her and will walked three doors down where his hotel room was. it was basically hers too since most of her stuff was scattered across the room over the past few days they’ve been there. 

will shut the door behind them. the brunette looked at him expectantly knowing she said everything she could. a beat of silence passed before the tears quickly filled the blonde’s eyes and he started completely sobbing in front of her. he crumpled against the door, choking sobs falling from his lips as he body sunk into the ground. 

for a second, samy just stared at him until her instincts kicked in and she went to him without hesitation this time. 

“oh will,” she curled into his side, stroking his hair as his body fell into hers. 

“i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean any of it. i don’t know why i said it. i was upset and i know that’s not an excuse at all,” the boy rambled into her shoulder. 

“i know this loss hurts, but taking your anger out on people with harsh words isn’t gonna make it better,” samy said.

“i know, i know. i-i’m so sorry. i shouldn’t have lashed out on you. that’s not fair to you at all.” 

“i was just trying to comfort you like i always do after losses,” the girl hated seeing her boyfriend so upset like this. his tears dripped everywhere on her even after samy tried wiping them away with her thumb. 

“i know. i shouldn’t have pushed you away like that. i just.. I didn’t want you to see me like that,” will’s voice grew softer at his small admission. 

“what do you mean like that?” i’ve seen you lose games before.”

“i don’t know if this is how you felt after your soccer game, but i felt so pathetic for losing a championship game where we didn’t even score. my pride was hurt and i worried you’d think i wasn’t good enough anymore because i lost like that,” his words continued breaking samy’s heart. 

she grabbed ahold of his face so he was looking at her, “i’d never think any less of you because you lost. it happens. you’re not pathetic for losing and i promise it doesn’t make me look at you any differently.” 

“i guess i’m just always scared you’ll get sick of me and realize i’m not actually worth it. that and a hundred other emotions were just going through me and it came out really wrong,” will frowned. 

a small sigh escaped the girl’s lips hearing the boy she’s known all her life doubt himself so much. “you’re always worth it, will. nothing’s ever gonna change that for me, okay? i’m always gonna be in love with you and wanna be around you win or lose, whatever's happening in your career. you’re stuck with me,” a small laugh escaped their lips at the last part. 

“i know that. i just get really doubtful when i get down on myself and hard losses like that happen.” 

“i get it, but i’m not going anywhere, okay? you played your best tonight, those refs were making shit calls and unfortunately, denver just figured us out.” 

a small nod came from will. he pushed his forehead onto samy’s just trying to ease all the thoughts running through his mind while focusing on the way she ran her fingers gently through his hair and around his curls. some of his roots were rough and red from the way he pulled harshly on them earlier, so her gentle motions slowly eased the ache. 

“i’m scared that i don’t know what’s gonna happen next with any of us,” will spoke again after a small silence. 

he lifted his head again to meet his girlfriend’s gaze before leaning it against the door. 

“are you gonna sign on?” the idea played in samy’s mind as well after tonight’s game. 

the decision was entirely up to the coaches of each of the guy’s respective teams, but considering how well all of them played and improved in one season, they may want them sooner rather than later. 

“i don’t know. it’s up to whether the sharks want me now or later,” will answered. 

“have you talked to ryan or gabe? what they may do?” 

“washington’s pushing closer to the playoffs. they may want ryan on for it. i dunno. gabe’s most likely gonna stay. i don’t think the rangers are quite ready for him yet. the ideal situation is we all stay one one more season with boston,” will explained a bit, his fingers drawing mindles shapes into samy’s leg. 

“what do the sharks say about you?” the girl wondered with a raised eyebrow. 

“you know what they say about me. they want me now. they wanna wait another year. it’s..sort of up to me i guess,” will shrugged a bit, avoiding eye contact. 

“would you sign on now?” she rephrased her question from earlier. 

“if i sign on now, my entire life gets flipped around in a week and i have to move to california, but then i’d possibly get to play in the playoffs. if i wait, i get to stay with boston and everyone for another year and more importantly, see you more frequently than if i was in california,” samy rolled her eyes at the last part—he was always so down bad for her. 

“don’t make the decision based on me, will. you’ll see me still.” 

“i know, but i think i do subconsciously anyway. you’re just my life now,” his words sent a deep blush across the girl’s cheeks. 

“i’m flattered,” she rubbed the side of his cheek making him lean into her touch. 

“you’re everything to me, samy. i’m really, really in love with you and i can’t imagine my life without you in it,” will smiled softly. 

the girl flushed, but returned his smile. hearing those kinds of things come out of his mouth was still something the brunette was getting used to even after 9 months of being together. 

“you’re everything to me too, will. i love you a lot.” 

the boy leaned forward to place a gentle, yet loving kiss on her lips. they melted into one another, small sighs escaping their mouths at the contact. her hands tugged at his curls while his own curved around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer like he needed her as close as possible or else he couldn’t function. 

part of it was true. without samy, will was lost like a fish in the ocean. she was a part of him and he was a part of her. they were intertwined and always would be. her soft lips soothed every single thought and self-doubt will had because as long as his favorite girl believed in him, that was all that mattered. 

“i know i said this already, but thank you for being here. it means a lot to me,” will said when they pulled apart. 

“i’d never miss this. i’ll always skip classes for you,” she grinned. 

the boy beamed, pulling her back in for another kiss. 

the two didn’t get into bed until nearly 3:30 in the morning. samy curled into will’s side, his arm tightly around her as she laid on his chest. the tension in the air completely dissipated and the cries died down. things felt okay again. 

they’d sleep tangled in one another all night knowing the next morning samy had to catch her plane back to michigan and will would be left with one big decision that would decide what plane he had to catch. 

[pepi1989]

Win or Lose - Ben Shelton

Ben sat on the locker room bench, head hanging low, sweat still clinging to his skin. He kept replaying the match in his mind, the semifinal he was so close to winning. One more set, just a few more points, and the victory could have been his. But now all he could think about was the promise you made: a special reward if he won today.

He sighed, running a hand through his curls. The loss weighed heavier knowing that.

The door creaked open, and he looked up to see you step inside. You gave him a soft smile, though you could tell just by his expression that he wasn’t in the mood to talk.

Without a word, you crossed the room and sat in front of him, resting your hand on his knee. "Hey," you whispered, your voice tender.

"Hey," he mumbled back, still staring at the ground. His voice was low, and frustration lingered in his tone. "I didn’t win."

"I know," you said, leaning in a little closer. "But you played hard. You left everything out there. That’s what matters, right?"

Ben shrugged, clearly not convinced. "It’s not the same. I really wanted to win... and I didn’t want to let you down. I know you had that, you know, surprise if I won."

You smiled, your fingers lightly tracing his arm as you leaned in closer, your lips just inches from his ear. "Who says you don’t still get it?" you teased, voice soft and warm.

Ben froze for a second, eyes flicking to you in surprise. "Wait… what?"

You tilted your head, smirking. "You really think a little loss is going to change things? I told you I had something for you, and you’re still getting it. Win or lose."

Before he could say another word, you gently grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him toward you, pressing your lips against his. The kiss was slow, soft at first, but quickly deepened as his hands found your waist, pulling you closer. His frustration melted into the kiss, all the tension he had been carrying now replaced by the heat of the moment.

Ben groaned softly against your lips, his fingers tightening on your hips as the kiss grew more intense. He pulled you into his lap, your legs straddling his as he kissed you like he’d been waiting all day for it.

You smiled against his lips, feeling the shift in his mood. “See,” you whispered when you pulled back for air, your forehead resting against his, “you don’t need to win a match to get your reward.”

He chuckled, breathless but already leaning in for more. “Guess this is even better than winning.”

You didn’t give him a chance to say more before you kissed him again, this time letting him take control. His lips were urgent, his hands sliding up your thighs, holding you as if he was afraid to let go. He kissed you with the same intensity he brought to the court, making you forget everything else.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. Ben leaned back against the wall, still holding you close, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Feeling better now?" you asked playfully, brushing a curl from his forehead.

Ben’s grin widened, his hands still on your waist, not ready to let go yet. "Way better," he said, pulling you back down into another kiss, this one slower, filled with gratitude and warmth.

Win or lose, he knew you’d always be there, and that was more than enough.

[shitsndgiggs]

Can you write a story with Lamine Yamal where his girlfriend is german and she’s like really happy for his win but also sad for germanys lost? And she gets all mad at Cucurella for his hand foul and Lamine just laughs her off

HANDBALL FOUL - LAMINE YAMAL

Germany losing in the quarterfinals against Spain

Lamine Yamal x german! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The final whistle blew, and the stadium erupted into a mix of cheers and groans. Spain had just secured their place in the Euro 2024 semifinals with a 2-1 victory over Germany.

The Spanish fans were ecstatic, celebrating their team’s hard-fought win, while the German supporters were left to lament what could have been. I sat there, caught in a whirlwind of emotions.

As a German, my heart ached for my team. They’d played so well, fought so hard, but it wasn’t enough. The loss stung, especially knowing that this was the end of the road for Germany in the tournament.

But at the same time, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride and happiness for Lamine, who had played his heart out for Spain.

Lamine found me in the stands shortly after the match, still in his kit, his face glowing with the thrill of victory.

He was all smiles as he jogged over, but his expression softened when he saw the mix of emotions on my face.

“Hey,” he said gently, reaching out to take my hand. “You okay?”

I forced a smile, trying to push down the sadness that lingered in my chest. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… you know, mixed feelings.”

He nodded, understanding immediately. “I know. It’s tough when we’re on opposite sides like this.”

I sighed, leaning into him as he pulled me into a comforting hug. “I’m really happy for you, Lamine. You played amazing, and Spain deserved the win. But I just… I wish it wasn’t at Germany’s expense, you know?”

He kissed the top of my head, holding me close. “I get it. It’s always hard when you have a foot in both camps. But thank you for being happy for me, even though I know this is tough for you.”

I pulled back slightly, managing a small smile. “Of course. I’ll always support you, no matter what.”

Lamine’s smile widened, but before he could say anything, I huffed in frustration, my thoughts suddenly turning to that one moment in the match that had really gotten under my skin.

“But I still can’t believe they didn’t award that penalty!” I exclaimed, crossing my arms.

“Cucurella clearly handled the ball in the box! It should’ve been a penalty for Germany!”

Lamine chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “You’re still mad about that?”

“Of course I am!” I shot back, my voice rising a little as the frustration bubbled up again. “It was so obvious! The ref should’ve given the penalty. It could’ve changed the whole game!”

Lamine laughed again, pulling me back into his arms. “You’re so cute when you’re mad.”

“I’m serious, Lamine!” I insisted, even as I felt my irritation start to fade in the warmth of his embrace. “It’s just… unfair.”

He kissed my forehead, still grinning. “I know, I know. But that’s football, right? Sometimes the calls go your way, sometimes they don’t.”

I pouted, but his playful attitude was starting to chip away at my anger. “You’re just saying that because the call went your way.”

“Maybe,” he admitted with a wink. “But you can’t stay mad at Marc forever. Besides, it’s not like he did it on purpose.”

I sighed, finally letting my frustration go as I melted into his embrace. “Fine. I guess you’re right. But still… it stings.”

Lamine tightened his hold on me, resting his chin on top of my head. “I know it does. But hey, maybe we’ll have a Spain-Germany final next time, and you’ll get your revenge.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that, my mood lightening as I looked up at him. “You think so?”

“Absolutely,” he said confidently. “But for now, how about we just enjoy the moment? I’m really happy you’re here with me, even if it didn’t go the way you wanted.”

I smiled, feeling the last of my frustration melt away as I looked into his eyes. “I’m happy I’m here with you too. And I am proud of you, Lamine. You were incredible out there.”

His smile softened, and he leaned down to kiss me gently. “Thank you. That means a lot, coming from you.”

We stood there for a moment, just holding each other as the sounds of celebration and disappointment echoed around us.

It was a strange mix of emotions—sadness for my team, joy for my boyfriend—but in Lamine’s arms, it felt like everything was going to be okay.

“Come on,” he said after a while, pulling back slightly but keeping his arm around my shoulders. “Let’s get out of here. I’ll buy you dinner to make up for the loss.”

I laughed, feeling my spirits lift as I leaned into him. “You better. And don’t think I’m going to let you forget about that handball anytime soon.”

Lamine grinned, giving me a playful squeeze. “I wouldn’t expect anything less, cariño.”

[gyuvision]

defense -> [back to masterlist?]

wc ; 0.8k - pairing ; team captain bf osaki shotaro x fem reader

summary ; when the opposing teams captain hits on you right before a game, its without a doubt shotaro will be there to defend you.

contains -> swearing, degrading/name calling, fluff, small angst

🏷️ - @llearlert

with your boyfriend being the university’s basketball captain and you being head of the yearbook department, of course you’d attend all his games. not just to get your job done but to support him in what he loves.

but there were some downsides, no matter how much or how little it would bother you. the amount of girls jealous and talking behind your back or the amount of guys thinking you could do better was way more than you could count.

so when the opposing teams captain asked you out you couldn’t say you were surprised, all you could do was smile and politely say no. but what you weren’t expecting was for him to immediately switch up and degrade you.

“you think you’re all that don’t you? you really need to be humbled if you’d even consider rejecting me.” he scoffed, looking around at his teammates for them to back him up.

“i have a boyfriend, i mentioned it earlier..” you mumbled.

“woah! the dumb girl’s got lip now doesn’t she? i bet your boyfriend’s a nobody anyway.” the guy mocked immaturely.

you didn’t know what to say, frozen in fear. what could you possibly say to a group of guys over 185cm with such a mean look on their faces?

it was as if your prayers were immediately answered when shotaro stepped onto the court and went to stay by your side.

“she said she’s taken didn’t she? it’s not her fault you can’t take no for an answer.”

the guy glanced down to shotaro’s jersey, reading his number ‘01’. “captain?” he scoffed. “and who are you to her?” he questioned, gesturing to shotaro who now had his arm wrapped around your waist.

“her boyfriend.”

shotaro may have been shorter than the other players, but his aura definitely was more intimidating.

“whatever. we aren’t done here.” he reminded, before taking his teammates to their locker room.

“are you okay? did they hurt you? what did they say?-” he asked worriedly until you cut him off with a hug.

“im okay. thank you. you’re timing is always perfect taro.” you smiled, pressing a small kiss into his cheek.

you cooed at how fast his face turned into a rosy color, heating up at your touch.

“im gonna go sit down. are you gonna win for me?”

“when have i ever lost?”

and he indeed did not lose. you loved how competitive your boyfriend was, but he was even more competitive today if it meant beating those other guys for you.

you took small snippets on your camera for the yearbook (and some for you) of shotaro stealing the ball and scoring a three pointer, ultimately winning the game just as the clock ran out.

you were even able to capture him running up to the bleachers so he could hug you as the reporter announced your school would be going to the semifinals.

shotaro would happily be at your defense if it meant you’d smile at him like that every time.

[imperfectnothing]

POST ROUND 26 (TOV WIN) - おやすみ

Akane is dead.

In the wake of the tie, Akane decided to take fate into her own hands, such a inspired decision that it ended up with her shot and bleeding out over the floor, just after she shot her owner in front of the whole crowd. Of course, Tov smiled up on stage. She's been trained well enough to force her lips into form and keep them that way until the flashes of the camera stop. She can go through the motions with her eyes closed and her mind turned off. She's going to the semifinals. The semifinals of a fucking death competition.

It's unclear what exactly that says about her other than that she's survived this far.

After everything, when she and Cassio get back to the apartment, Tov falls back into the good old practice of stalking down the halls as fast as she can and trying not to let her tunnel vision make her falter too much. Cassio said something to her but she didn't hear it, the noise in her head too loud, the reminder that she could be the one bleeding out on the floor next, that she's so easy to replace, that she is just another warm body waiting to be relieved of its lifeblood, all screaming in her ears.

It's hard to quite avoid every obstacle when she can't see anything outside of what's in front of her, her mind too focused on getting back to her room rather than dodging that one step that would send her careening to the floor if she didn't hop it at just the right moment or that coat rack that's really easy to crash into if you round the corner too sharply. She only barely clears said coat rack before she makes a mad dash for the door to her room, inputting the code with a shaky hand and darting inside. She only lets out the breath she has apparently been holding once the door hisses shut behind her.

Tov can't help the way her shoulders begin to tremble, her hands quivering even when she knits them together, interlocking the fingers in an effort to increase structural integrity. In the end, all that does is make her hands shake more, her whole arms quaking underneath the weight of her body suddenly drained of adrenaline and direction. She takes a staggering step forwards, another, and she crumples as her legs give out from under her. Luckily enough, she's caught by the forearms, prevented from tumbling to the floor and pulled upwards, held standing by these mysterious, pale hands. Looking up to find her savior, she is even more shocked by who she sees than she was to be caught at all.

"Nyx?" She croaks, her voice hoarse from singing and holding back tears. Nyx smiles at her, the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as he nods, backlit by the moon.

"That's me," he answers and Tov can't help but slump forwards, hitting her forehead against his chest in an attempt to show her indignation at his presence here but she's too tired to keep up appearances for long, seeking out comfort in his warmth. He chuckles and bundles her up into a makeshift hug, carrying her further into her rooms. Nyx sits down on the bed and shifts to set her down but Tov wraps her arms around his neck and clings to him, unable to hold back her desire for human contact when she's shaking from emotional hypothermia. Nyx hums, resting his head on top of hers and pressing soothing circles into her back, bringing her in closer.

"What're you doing here, you idiot?" Tov asks, hoping that the wetness in her voice is hidden by the way her words are muffled into Nyx's neck. Nyx sighs, probably rolling his eyes, too.

"Do you want me to leave?" He retorts and Tov immediately tightens her hold on him. He laughs, and Tov can practically hear the smirk in his voice. "I'll take that as a no, then."

"Obviously," Tov grumbles. "But, really, what are you doing here?" She asks, leaning back and looking up to Nyx's face, swallowing down her tears even as they dribble down her face. She doesn't even know when she started crying but it doesn't really matter, does it? It's already started to happen, might as well roll with it. Nyx makes a face, something between a grimace and a pursing of the lips.

"I'm here to check in on you," he answers, glancing down to meet her eyes with a sheepish smile.

"What, were you worried?" Tov scoffs with a roll of her eyes, half legitimately incredulous and half sarcastic on instinct. Hurt flashes in nephrite eyes, a muscle in the jaw twitching beneath the skin.

"Yes! I was," Nyx snaps, frown consuming his smile in the blink of an eye. "I didn't want you to think I left you." I didn't want you to think that I would just leave you, goes unsaid. Tov sighs and rests her brow against Nyx's collarbone.

"I understood," she murmurs, thinking back to those dark nights, spent all alone. "It didn't even cross my mind." Himei dying, shot down with a desperate smile on her face. Lang, crashing to the earth, a shooting star finding its final resting place. The secrets, lies echoing in the halls of the compound, whispers winding themselves through the darkness. Her own cardiac event, ending up in the hospital, and then Wren telling her to keep her chin up. So much has happened, Tov had hardly the moment to spare a thought to Nyx. Not out of neglect or any contempt, but he wasn't someone she had to worry about so much, now. Tov's mind has been more fixed on trying to figure out the business with Tallis and recovering from her heart attack.

"I didn't want you to," Nyx tells her, his voice thick with emotion. Tov blinks and pulls back, meeting his eyes only to see tears welling up there. His cheeks are pink, his break hiccuping in his throat and Tov has half the mind to reach up and wipe the tears from his face but she waits, instead. "I wanted you to hate me, for dying. For breaking my promise to you and laughing when you told me to win."

". . . why?"

"It would be easier that way, y'know?" He sniffs and smiles, wry in the darkness. "It wouldn't hurt so much if you hated me, I thought. Besides, I've told so many lies. I never told you that Vera is still alive. I never told you that I saw Aurien get taken away by Solei. I never told you about my children. I don't even know, I have so many fucking secrets. Even still, you're the only one who knew about Cas and I trust you and I love you and I still didn't tell you. I felt awful for keeping it all from you."

"Tallis is still alive," Tov blurts, all of a sudden. Maybe there's something honest in the air, floating through the HVAC system. Maybe she's just been moved to fits of stupidity by Nyx's uncharacteristic show of emotion. Nyx stares at her for a long moment, his eyes widening. Then, he barks an incredulous laugh.

"Well, damn," he muses, running a hand through his hair. "I never would've- I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Ji Woo and Ryu joined up with Solei and Auri, I mean, anything is fuckin possible at this point, ain't it?"

"Seems that way," Tov replies, laughing along with him.

"Yeah, I," Nyx hesitates, pursing his lips for a moment before shrugging. "We can talk about this more, later. We're both tired."

"Later when?" Tov asks with a frown, skepticism dripping from two simple words. Nyx huffs a laugh, rolling his eyes.

"I have a little communicator for you, that way we can keep in touch," he says, smiling at her softly. "I'm gonna stay until you fall asleep, anyways. You should get ready for bed, yeah?" Tov blinks, considering for a moment. She is exhausted, it would make sense to go to sleep but Nyx is here, and shouldn't she try and stay awake for as long as can to keep him here longer? But there's not a time limit this time. He'll be here as long as she wants him to be.

It doesn't take too long for Tov to get dressed down and changed into her pajamas. She goes through her bathroom routine, putting her braids into a cap for sleeping and washing the makeup off of her face, brushing her teeth, the works, before she returns to Nyx. He's humming to himself idly and tapping on a little device, presumably the communicator(?), waiting for her to come back. He looks up when she arrives, smile immediately cresting on his face. He beckons her over, patting the bed. Tov rolls her eyes, laughing underneath her breath as she goes over to sit next to him.

Nestling under Nyx's arm, Tov lays down next to him and rests her head against his chest. He taps out a rhythm on her arm.

"Hands of time will wring my neck, every little moment spells regret," he starts to sing, the sound reverberating through his chest and Tov can hear it perfectly. "But I don't have to feel this way, as the voice inside my head, o-ya-su-mi." Sleep settles over Tov's body, sinking into her bones as she falls asleep to the sound of her brother's voice.

finally finished the nyx/tov piece where nyx visits tov and they get to talk!! tagging @ivanttakethis, @starry-skiez, @lookatmysillies, @apriciticreveries and @solei-eclipse because y'alls characters either feature prominently or they're mentioned <3

[ultimateshixiongfuckertournament]

Semifinal 2: Quan Yizhen vs Wen Kexing

Semifinal 2 is between Quan Yizhen (shixiong: Yin Yu) from Heaven Official's Blessing vs Wen Kexing (shixiong: Zhou Zishu) from Word of Honor

Propaganda under the cut

Quan Yizhen:

Obsessed with his shixiong, much to said shixiong's chagrin. Someone who's a proper quanyin shipper can write better propaganda, but I just know he belongs here

Someone who's a proper quanyin shipper can write better propaganda

Well, okay. So Quan Yizhen was originally a street kid that was taken in as a disciple by the sect master at Yin Yu's (the shixiong in question) request because he was impressed by Yizhen's potential. But all the other disciples hated Quan Yizhen's guts due to a mix of his utter inability to read social cues and envy towards his raw talent, only Yin Yu was nice to him which is why Quan Yizhen's obsession with his shixiong took off. Yin Yu is the only person Quan Yizhen cares for.

Eventually his cultivation led Yin Yu to ascend to godhood and he took Quan Yizhen to heaven with him as a deputy god because he knew he couldn't leave him alone. Quan Yizhen doesn't care about prestige, he only cares about martial arts and shixiong, so he asks Yin Yu if they can't go back and if ascension is really that great to which Yin Yu replies to give it a try: Quan Yizhen does and actually ascends as a proper god.

However because Quan Yizhen is so naturally talented he quickly came to eclipse Yin Yu, which he didn't even realize because, again, he has zero social skills. This festered resentment in Yin Yu who eventually exploded and told Quan Yizhen to go kill himself... while Yizhen was wearing a robe that made him follow all fo Yin Yu's commands, so he almost does kill himself. He was stopped and Yin Yu was thrown out of heaven.

But!!! Quan Yizhen doesn't care about any of that! He still wants to meet his shixiong and is sure it was all a misunderstanding. Quan Yizhen actually beats up his own devotees if they trash talk his shixiong, nevermind that as a god his existance is dependant on said devotees. But he doesn't care about that! He only became a god because of shixiong.

When he finally meets his shixiong again, he recognizes him by Yin Yu's mannerism despite Yin Yu wearing a mask. Yin Yu hits him on the head with a shovel and he still doesn't care!! Quan Yizhen still follows his shixiong like a loyal puppy. When later Yin Yu dies trying to protect him Quan Yizhen cries and apologizes for not being able to protect him despite only being good for fighting. Quan Yizhen carries his shixiong's corpse all the way while heaven if falling apart. The last chapter implies Quan Yizhen is trying to nurture Yin Yu's soul to get him back and in the post-canon extras Yin Yu makes a cameo. So Quan Yizhen was succesful!! Death can't take him from his shixiong!

give it to quan yizhen!!!! his whole THING is unconditional love for his shixiong. No matter what Yin Yu does, qyz will love him forever!!

#i will not have my boy who literally calls out SHIXIONG any time he sees yin yu#and desperately chases after him even after everything#lose like this

#yall better give this to quan yizhen#if there's ever a shixiong fucker IT'S HIM

#yes!!!!!!!!#quanyin#he loves him so much!! it’s unconditional!!#vote qyz#tgcf#svsss

#quan yizhen is a real deal shixiongfucker#admit that every time you see his name you're screaming “shixiong!!!!!” reflexively in your head#polls

#qyz propaganda: wdym this guy was ready to kill and be killed for his shixiong#qyz is the most precious#he fights his worshippers if they talk shit about his shixiong#never minds the fact that said shixiong nearly got him killed#THE SUN AND MOON PAIRING#he's the epitome of head empty only shixiong

you don’t understand, i need this win with every part of my soul

Wen Kexing:

(okay so the canon part is confusing. cause wenzhou are officially canon in Faraway Wanderers and are censored bromance in Word of Honor. but they're only shixiong/shidi in Word of Honor and not in Faraway Wanderers. so idk what you want to do in regards to the canonicity of their relationship)

I mean Wen Kexing is all over Zhou Zishu from day 1, though he has very complicated emotions surrounding the whole shixiong/shidi element to their relationship, he does eventually declare himself as the second disciple of Shiji Manor and publicly acknowledges Zhou Zishu as his shixiong. anyways if you know anything about Wen Kexing you know how desperately he wants Zhou Zishu, even the censorship couldn't hide the fact that Wen Kexing wants to rail Zhou Zishu to kingdom come

the utter simp that is WKX for his ZZS? No contest. None. None at all.

#WKX now actually fucked his shixiong like pls the entire book/show is about him wanting to get with him

#WKX hands down wanna fck or get fcked by his “Ah-Xu~” from day 1

#y'all have the audacity. as if Wen Kexing did baby trap is shixiong with TWO kids

[writingpages]

our fingers entwined

Summary: yusei overhears someone call aki hot and he's a little jealous about it.

Rating: G

Ships: Yusei Fudo/Aki Izayoi

Author’s note: i wrote this instead of focusing on election stress. pure fluff.

read on ao3 / support me on kofi / join my discord (18+)

Yusei had always believed in Aki. From the first time he saw her Duel to now, he'd known what a tough and vicious opponent she could be. He almost felt a little sorry for the person she was currently Dueling. There was nothing but pride on the line, but Aki badly wanted to prove herself. Pride was enough of a motivator to make a Duelist fearsome - he'd seen that when Jack constantly continued to rush into battle as well. And if she won this Duel, she'd qualify for the semifinals, putting her in a good position to enter into the national tournament.

It was strange to think that once he was terrified of her, but then again... apparently he'd once terrified her too. He wondered how he of all people seemed so terrifying to a girl who could split a pier in two. He hadn't bothered to ask at the time and the more he thought about, the more it didn't matter. All that mattered was now, their feelings had been laid bare and he could freely refer to her as his girlfriend. At least, between their friends and family. He didn't care much about his public perception most days. He didn't have much control over that, did he?

He didn't care about it until he overheard a conversation in the stadium - someone mentioning that they found Aki hot, and Yusei's fists balled instantly. He knew that. Anyone with eyes could see she was attractive. He needed to calm down. Other people were going to think that his girlfriend was hot, and he was fine with that. At least until the other person remarked that they wondered if she was single, and he almost interjected in their conversation. He held back, figuring he didn't want to argue with a stranger about how he was so certain that she wasn't single. Instead, he turned on his heel and walked away.

That conversation was probably why after Aki had taken the victory over the tournament, he walked over to her rather than let her come to him. It was why he gently lifted the helmet off her head, smiling at her. "You were incredible out there, Aki," he said softly, reaching to cup her cheek. "I knew you could win."

It was true that her riding duel outfit was rather tight fitting, accentuating all her curves, but admittedly... that was less important to him over the woman that was in the outfit. He leaned over her bike to press a gentle kiss to her lips, and Aki took a moment to respond. But when she did... her arms were thrown around his neck, eagerly kissing him back. No one could deny that she was his with this display, he thought almost triumphantly. When they parted, she was smiling. "I was hoping you were watching, Yusei."

He reached up to brush her bangs out of her face, taking her in. "I wouldn't have been able to stay away," he said softly, shifting the helmet under his arm as he moved to hold his hand out to her. "I had to see my best girl win."

A pretty rose red color splashed across her cheeks at this, fading to a soft pink. He could hear the cameras shuttering, and none of it mattered. All that mattered to him was that she placed her hand in his, allowing him to pull her off the bike and into a tight hug as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "So you were impressed with how well I did?"

The pit crew was already taking Aki's bike away, and he nearly made a remark to them about being careful with it. After all, he'd built that thing from scratch for her. He held it back, figuring that it was more important to focus on her victory instead. Besides, he could always inspect it later himself and do any repairs necessary if they really damaged her bike. "Of course I was impressed," he said, his arm around her shoulders as they ignored the journalists in favor of heading inside the stadium away from the din of the crowd. "You were remarkable out there. The control you've gained over the field, the way you handled your bike, your foresight... it was all incredible, Aki."

Aki giggled as she hipchecked him. "You flatter me," she teased, leaning against him. "Any reason you decided to kiss me out there? You don't normally do that. Not that I mind. I just want to know what your motive was so I can ensure it happens again."

Yusei flushed himself now. It seemed a little petty now and he wasn't sure he wanted to admit it. Yet he knew there was no point in trying to hide anything from Aki. "I overheard some of your fans commenting on how hot you were and wondering if you were single," he said as casually he could. "I merely wanted to set the record straight there."

She laughed, shaking her head. "First of all: straight? Where are we straight?" She winked at him, and he swore he felt his cheeks set on fire. "Second of all: if having someone call me hot was all it took to get you to kiss me in front of everyone, maybe you should be in the crowd more often." She then moved to kiss his cheek with a small smirk, wrapping her arm around his waist. "Now. Why don't you take me home, handsome? I'll show you whose girlfriend I am."

And that was something Yusei could get behind.

[beauty-and-passion]

Eurovision 2024: broken promises and one last hope

Hello.

I know this post took a bit longer than usual, but I needed some time to collect my thoughts about this year’s Eurovision.

Yes, I watched it. Why? Because it wouldn’t have been fair to the artists, who took part in this year’s competition. It’s not because of them that the show was so polarized, so they didn’t deserve to be punished for that.

Also, I needed to see how far the EBU would go. I needed to see and I needed to remember. And everyone needs to remember too. Remember this year and remember what happened, when the EBU followed its policy so strictly, it ended up making the most tense show I’ve ever watched.

I will share my thoughts and I will try my best to do it effectively. It won’t be a short post and I apologize, but I tried my best.

_________________________________

Sweden: was it worth it?

We all had big expectations for this year’s show. There was Petra Mede, everyone’s favorite host. And Sweden is well known for doing great shows. This year should've been great.

 The first semifinal starts and we're bombarded by greatest hits of the past. Cool for five minutes, boring after one hour.

I’m disappointed: I expected something better from Sweden, not them recycling something already done in the past. But that’s what they did by sending Loreen back to win again, so I suppose it’s fitting.

Okay, so we have Johnny Logan, Ireland’s three-time winner. Is he singing one of his songs? No, he’s singing Tattoo.

Weird choice. Why call Ireland’s three-time winner to perform a Swedish song? Why call a representative of the nation who won as many times as you and make him sing one of your songs and not one of his?

If I were to think badly, I would think this was Sweden's subtle way to impose its supremacy on Ireland. A sort of: "You're not the best anymore, I reached you and I will surpass you. You will succumb to me". But Sweden would never do something like that, wouldn’t it?

Then we have the second semifinal. And we have a song, which can be resumed as follows: “We know we stole Finland’s victory last year, but instead of admitting there is a problem with the voting system (and the entire system for that matter), we’d much rather prefer to whine, because people have been sooooo mean with us. And yes, we will keep sending the same stuff every time, because it makes us win. At the end of the day, all we want is to keep winning, so shut up and love us.”

I don’t know you, but the line between being self-aware of your flaws and openly admitting all you want is to win (all while insulting the country that almost won last year, by saying that their show would’ve been so stupid ah ah, while ours is so cool, see how cool we are?) is very thin. And even the greatest hosting country of all time can succumb to its own hubris once in a while.

Then we reach the final. Okay, the semifinals' shows were meh and left me with a bitter aftertaste, but hey, that’s the final! It must be awesome!

After two hours, I was looking at the clock, waiting for the entire thing to be over.

Did we really need a thirst song about Martin Österdahl, the most hated EBU Executive Supervisor? Was it really necessary to sexualize this man? Is it because he’s Swedish? Is it because Sweden needs to kiss the ESC’s ass even more? Or is it because the ESC really really wants to make this guy more popular, considering people hate him?

After hinting at them in every possible way for the entire week, in the end we got AI-generated ABBA. Well, shoutout to the real ABBA for not participating in this: last year they said they would’ve not taken part and they didn't. Respect.

Alcazar were the biggest surprise of the entire week, because they are a piece of my childhood and Crying at the Discoteque is still a huge bop. But heaven forbid we having fun for more than five minutes, so they were sent away immediately.

At the end of the day, my question is: was it worth it, Sweden? Was it worth winning seven times, only to celebrate with the most boring show ever?

I cannot believe I’m saying this, but I missed Portugal’s show. Yes, the show I called “torture”, because they kept spamming the entire country for days.

You know what? I’d rather watch a country constantly spam its beauties and its culture, than another greatest hit compilation. By god, you’re hosting Eurovision. That's your chance to display your country on the greatest window Europe has to offer. And you use that chance, to repeat over and over “Eurovision good” and talk about it only.

I know Eurovision is good and cool and I love the reminder... but please, give us something more, Sweden. Something you. Listening to a country say: “We don’t have anything else to offer besides Eurovision” does not make me laugh. It makes me sad. It's not that you don't have anything else to offer, Sweden: it's that you don't want to show what else you have to offer.

You have gorgeous natural places (Höga Kusten and Gotland just to name two). You have the second-longest bridge in Europe and it's fucking impressive. Your capital is full of wonderful islands - and I found out there are tours with buses that go both on the ground and in the water. How fucking cool is that?!

Do we want to talk about culture? Your coffee breaks are literally part of your lifestyle and even have a specific name. You have that great concept of lagom which a lot of people should learn too. You are full of beautiful art and funny foods - heck, there is even a Disgusting Food Museum in Malmö! And I didn't find out thanks to Eurovision, but thanks to fucking Tripadvisor.

It's just sad, you know? Don't underestimate yourself so much, Sweden. You have a ton to offer besides this show.

_________________________________

 The Netherlands: victim of paradoxes

Europapa was one of fan’s favorite songs and of course it was: a catchy tune, funny singer, fun and happiness for a song that was both a celebration of Europe and a touching love letter from Joost to his parents.

Of course it got people’s hearts. We all love the story of a character who comes up with a dream and wants to fulfill it. And if we can, we want to make that dream come true.

So just imagine how devastating it was, to find out Joost has been disqualified. I was minding my own business when I found out and I was shocked, so I can’t even imagine how bad his hardcore fans felt.

The first question was, of course, why. What happened? What could’ve done a man who has always wanted to attend Eurovision, to get disqualified? Not warned, not penalized. Disqualified. What did he ever do, to put in jeopardy his lifelong dream like that?

I don't know if we’ll ever find out the whole truth. All we know is that Joost asked a woman to stop filming him, she refused and kept following him, so he made a “threatening gesture” towards the camera, while not touching her.

Which gesture? No idea. Maybe he showed his middle finger, maybe he tried to lower the camera, maybe he said “fuck you and stop filming me”, maybe he tried to hit the camera. I don’t know. But in this case, I would really like to know - and not just what he did, but how the whole thing went.

If this year taught us something, is the importance of context. If Joost Klein tried to punch the camera is one thing and he should be condemned for that. But if Joost Klein tried to punch the camera after being filmed without his permission, because a woman was harassing him and following him, thus breaking the agreement that wanted him to not be filmed after stage… well, that's another thing.

Sure, he shouldn’t have reacted this way. But you can understand by yourself that snapping at someone out of the blue is one thing and snapping because you’re fed up with harassment is another thing.

Did Joost deserve some punishment? Sure. But did the person filming him without consent deserve punishment too? Of course. If you have to apply punishments, you have to do it equally, not with a double standard. So if he was disqualified, that woman should've been removed from her position too. But as far as I know, she wasn't.

Also, why didn't the EBU tell exactly what happened right from the start? Why refer to it as “an incident” and give only vague explanations? Why not mention Joost's disqualification during the Grand Final? Why did people have to find out through social media and the Grand Final happened as if nothing?

That's weird, that's not the behavior of someone who has nothing to hide. What’s the matter, EBU? Why this weird lack of communication? And why not show the footage of the incident and make everything clear? Now you’re respecting Joost’s right to not be filmed? A bit too late for that, isn’t it?

So yes, in a paradoxical turn of events, Joost Klein got his dream denied by the same show he wanted to be part of. The guy with the most European song ever, the one who stuck to the ESC motto “united by music”, the one who celebrated Europe, the one whose childhood dream was to be part of this European show, got disqualified by the same European show.

What can I say? I just hope karma will do its job for him. If he's innocent, he will get good things. If he's in the wrong, he will get his punishment.

In the meantime, you can still support him, stream his songs and check his albums. Here on YouTube you will find basically all of them, since it doesn’t seem he has a YouTube channel (yet).

And if his fans still find everything absurd and unjustifiable, don't worry: if Eurovision 2023 (and all previous ones) taught us something, is that you don’t have to be the winner, to steal people’s hearts. Sometimes, you just need one performance.

And this one stole everyone's heart.

Also, since apparently paradoxes were not enough, it seems like European flags were banned for being political? European flags during a European show in a European country in the European continent.

Uh?!

EBU, one question: on which continent do you think you’re in? Spoiler: it’s not America.

_________________________________

EBU’s biggest mistake

Let's talk a bit about the current global situation, shall we? No, you can't escape from it.

So, unless you lived under a rock until now, you know that the Israeli-Palestinian conflict has been going on for a long time and that recently it intensified again because of the new Gaza conflict. Israel pretends to not have committed war crimes, the rest of the world tells them to stop committing them, there are protests everywhere and people are ready to jump at each other’s throats to defend one country or the other.

Now, you’re the EBU. You say your show isn’t political. And that’s true: Eurovision isn’t political. Eurovision is a musical competition. It has nothing to do with politics.

But Eurovision takes place on planet Earth. And, as said, the situation on planet Earth is a bit tense right now. So you already know that, if you stick one single finger in this situation, you will get BIG reactions from the public.

So, what do you do, when Israel asks you to participate?

a) You tell Israel, very politely and very professionally, that you appreciate their application, but cannot accept them this year, because the situation is what it is and letting them in would bring chaos and potential dangers into a contest whose main foundation is being safe and non-political.

b) You let Israel in and let Palestine participate too, at least in spirit through people’s voices and decisions to mention it. This way, no one can say you’re taking sides, since you’re letting both sides participate.

c) You let Israel in and censor everything and everyone else, so not only you bring chaos inside your non-political contest, but make it even more political than ever and end up taking sides too.

Guess what EBU chose.

In order to stick to their non-political policy, EBU put blinders on and ignored the rest of the world. In order to let one country in because "Eurovision is non-political, so everyone is allowed to participate", they brought politics into their non-political show.

And no, it's not unexpected: it was obvious that, by letting Israel in, politics would've entered the competition too. This country and politics are bound tightly now, because of the current situation: of course if you let one in, the other will enter too.

And with politics, all the chaos of the current situation found its way in too. And that means EBU literally put in danger:

25 artists and their teams coming from all over Europe

the same Israeli gal and her team

all the tourists coming from all over the world to attend Eurovision

Swedish people who were living their normal lives and were suddenly surrounded by protests and chaos

the protesters who could've been involved in potential clashes

members of the police who also could've been involved in potential clashes

“But hey”, you might say, “nothing bad happened, in the end! You’re being too negative!”

Sure, thankfully nothing bad happened. But the risk was there, it was huge and it's not that "it would've been here anyway": the risk could've been completely avoided, by applying just a bit more human reasoning.

But even after politics found its way into the show, even after that, EBU could've saved the whole thing. If only one human being with a functioning brain said something like: "Okay, politics is in, even if we didn't want to. Now all we can do is let the other side of the conflict speak too, while we stay neutral".

But no, oh no. Mentioning Palestine and ceasefire means politics and our show isn't political. So let's ignore the fact that our decision to follow the policy verbatim led to politics being inside the show and let's keep applying the rules as if nothing: no one should mention politics, so Eric Saade cannot perform with the kefiah, Bambie Thug should remove their messages about ceasefire, Iolanda cannot keep her nails with Palestine's colors (seriously?!) and people's booing should be drowned with anti-booing technology.

You know, it's incredibly fascinating how EBU's stubborn decision to strictly follow the rules not only allowed politics inside the show, but led to the EBU itself taking a political stand, all while censoring every other opposition. EBU's rigid, mechanical application of the policy led to the EBU contradicting the same policy it was oh-so-religiously following. By making sure the show wasn't political, EBU applied censorship and not only made it even more political, but politically oriented towards one side of the conflict.

I don't know who the EBU members are and if they're human beings with functioning brains or just AI-generated bots, but please: stop following the rules like mindless robots and start using human reasoning in your decision-making process. And use common sense too, because if an idiot like me could foresee the consequences, you should've been able to foresee them too.

_________________________________

Israel: bullying cannot buy you victory

Now, we have Israel in. And the Israeli gal and her team perfectly know that their sole presence will lead to controversy and political stands.

So, if you were in their place, what would have you done?

kept a low profile during the entire competition;

showed at least an ounce of regret for unintentionally putting everyone in danger;

bullied everyone and tried to find any possible chance to beef with the other artists;

Guess what the Israeli team chose.

During the entire competition, these people kept harassing other artists, filming them without consent, calling them names, misgendering them. They kept this arrogant behavior, as if they owned the place and all other countries were just invited to their show.

And if there’s something I hate more than arrogance, is arrogance with a side dish of bullying.

So, to all the people whining because “Martina Satti yawned while Eden was speaking and Joost hid his face”: if that’s bullying, for you, you have a great life and I envy you. I wish I was bullied like that in school. But my bullying was more like… well, calling me names, harassing me and listening/spying what I was doing without my consent.

But apparently harassing the competitors wasn’t enough, so Israel decided to harass the viewers too, by begging for votes. Yes, they begged for votes. Yes, they spammed ads all over YouTube. Yes, I got one too and it was on a Eurovision-unrelated video and it made my blood boil. Yes, they were this desperate. And yes, that’s pathetic.

Also: is this legal? Is this allowed? EBU, are we sure this is part of the rules you follow so strictly? And please, tell me: is harassment also part of those same rules?

But do not worry: in the end, karma found its way. And despite the arrogance, the harassment, the tons of money spent to beg people, none of these means was enough to grant Israel the victory they oh-so-desperately wanted.

On the contrary: in a wonderfully ironic twist, the winner was one of the artists they kept misgendering and harassing. Mmmh, delicious irony, my favorite.

So thank you Israel for wasting money all over YouTube, I hope they were a lot. Thank you to all the people who made a political vote, you really got the spirit of the show, I hope you will never watch it again. Thank you Israeli team for harassing everyone and making an already tense competition even more tense. And, most importantly, thank you EBU for bringing politics in a non-political show: great fucking job, I hope someone will get fired.

And now, let's finally talk about music. Israel's song was nothing special, just the umpteenth bland song I've listened to 200 times already. And we all know it didn't get 300+ votes because everyone was in love with it. People's taste is not so bland and boring. And the final points proved it.

(On a side note, if I were Eden, I would be offended by these votes. At least the people who voted for Loreen last year didn't do it because of Sweden, but because of her talent. This year, I doubt that the people who voted for Eden gave a shit about her talent at all)

_________________________________

France: I need to make some apologies

Listen, you have to understand: we Italians know that French singers are good. We laugh, we say they’re “so French” and they keep Frenching and everything, but we know they rarely disappoint.

The problem is that France is good at the same things we’re good too. We’re both good at soccer, we’re good with food, wine, fashion. And we’re both good at singing.

So, France, remember: we might make fun of you but my god, your artists are amazing. When Slimane sang that part acapella two meters away from his microphone, I literally got shivers. He is a fucking great singer, his voice is incredible and he deserved more than 7 points.

I know French Frenching, but we should give credit when necessary:

_________________________________

Estonia, Spain and basically everyone else: two words and more apologies

Estonia 20th and Spain 22nd? Super robbed. The ignominy. The audacity. They served us beautiful Estonian language and a Spanish gal with a soft voice and that's how they got rewarded? They deserve more and better and people are stupid.

Also, I don’t know what kind of beef Greeks have with Marina, but she was good and doesn’t deserve all of this hate. Also because most of the complaints I've heard about make no sense, so… uh?!

Germany: fucking finally, people gave you votes. Thank you for persevering, your song was truly nice and I liked it too.

Armenia: yes, top 10! For great, lively, wonderful Balkan rhythm! You deserve it and your country deserves love and appreciation.

Italy: I’m okay with this result. Angelina’s performance was better, compared to the one in the semi-finals (also, better costume too, the other was too revealing and too much in general). 7th place is fine.

Ireland: I know that’s not a song for everyone and okay, fine, maybe it’s nothing special either… but my god, have you seen the performance they put on? A-ma-zing. It was interesting, captivating and full of details. And the narrative is perfect too: you can see how Bambie slowly befriends the demon and ends up killing it. It was truly enjoyable to watch. So I’m glad it got 6th place, they deserve an even higher position.

Ukraine: please keep slaying, your artists are always so great and they keep proving it every goddamn time. Also, that moment when Ukraine surpassed Israel was delicious: money truly cannot buy you love and support.

The UK: seriously, why are you whining about people not giving you points? The song was okay, but nothing truly special. Still, you got 18th place! What should Norway say, instead? Poor Norway, it has all my sympathy, the song wasn't this bad.

And now, to you all: you know what to do. Follow your favorites, stream their songs, shower them with love. Eurovision is over, but these artists are not disappearing. They are still out there, making beautiful music. Go check on them.

_________________________________

Croatia: “the audience will come to my concert, not the jury”

Baby Lasagna was a blessing and as Italian, I want to properly apologize for giving it 16 points total only. You deserved 24, shame on us for being stupid morons.

Croatia gave us a beautiful song, from a beautiful artist with a great message and upbeat sounds. And I’m not the only one who thinks this, because the rest of the public agrees with me. Marko gave us pure joy and entertainment in an evening that was mostly sadness, tension and boredom.

And yes, it’s sad he didn’t win… but he knew it, before Switzerland’s points have been announced. Look at his face, during the final voting: as soon as Petra said Switzerland only needed 182 points, he realized he was going to lose. You can see him understanding and accepting it. He knew Switzerland would get these points. I knew. Everybody knew.

So no, this wasn’t like last year: last year, it was a one-on-one game between Finland and Sweden and a tug-of-war between public and jury. This year, we had a lot of favorites. Marko was the favorite, but if Joost wasn’t disqualified, maybe the points would’ve been even more distributed.

But you know what? Marko actually got the best possible result you can get in Eurovision. People adore you, you become a legend and your country doesn’t have to deal with EBU’s bullshit. You get the best of both worlds and it doesn’t cost you a cent.

Also, consider that Marko accepted his 2nd place graciously and maturely, went back home and was welcomed by basically the whole Zagreb (Let3 were there too! Kings supporting a king, very fitting). And in an interview, he said something like “I don’t care about the jury points, because the jury doesn’t come to my concerts”. Which proves he is:

a mood

a king

the truth oracle

everyone’s spirit animal

the winner of the people

the coolest guy ever

So, Croatia: I understand your disappointment, the jury system REALLY needs to change. And no, you won't host Eurovision next year. But consider that you're everyone's favorite country now. And you won't have to deal with whatever shit will happen in 2025! So sit back, relax, may your tourism thrive and your quality of life be high.

And if all of you people really enjoyed Baby Lasagna, please consider he has a YouTube channel and there are two other songs, besides Rim Tim Tagi Dim. One criticizes social media and the influencer system, while the other is a piece of great life advice from the title: “Don't hate yourself, but don't love yourself too much”. Thank you, king, for being so real.

And in case you’re wondering, yes, they’re both huge bops.

Do your magic, people: subscribe to his channel, stream his songs, watch his videos, shower him with love and, most importantly, meow back.

_________________________________

Switzerland: a contest that can live up to its promise

In the end Switzerland won. And it’s a good victory, you know? You might not like the song, but consider that Nemo sang pop, rap and opera, all while jumping on that rotating platform-thingy and running all over the stage. And they even bent back, while keeping a high note and rotating. I can’t even keep a high note by standing still, let alone by doing all the stuff they did.

Also, this is the first victory for a non-binary person, so great for them. And basically no one knew Nemo before Eurovision, so the show came back to its roots, by giving fame to an unknown artist.

Last but not least, in an ironic turn of events, this victory is the least political thing that happened on that stage. In the most polarized, political show ever, the winner is the quintessential neutral country. Almost poetic, in a way.

And this victory is also a huge slap in the face for the EBU: in the end, it wasn't its rigid adherence to the policy that made the show non-political, it was the jury’s vote. How the tables have turned.

But there is another reason why this victory is good after all and it’s because it’s a hopeful one. The winner isn’t famous, they didn’t harass anyone, they didn’t use money to win, they brought nothing besides their identity, a kind heart and a flag they had to sneak in because of the weird “flag rule” EBU pulled out.

And I would like to remind you that, during their victory speech, Nemo said this:

"I hope this contest can live up to its promise and continue to stand for peace and dignity for every person in this world".

I think it’s a speech that tells everything about this year’s show. This year, the contest didn’t live up to its promise: it put people in unnecessary danger, it brought tension, it made it political. EBU’s strictness led to a lot of consequences, the exact ones it tried so desperately to avoid.

As a result, no one enjoyed their time. I didn't enjoy my time. When Sunday came, I was relieved that the week was finally over and I was able to leave Eurovision behind. I didn't feel an ounce of the usual post-Eurovision nostalgia. I was just glad it was over.

And it's sad and unfair, because Eurovision isn't this. Eurovision is a perfect little window of peace and unity, away from the chaos of the world. For a few hours, three evenings a year, we can leave the real problems behind and focus on silly ones, like which country should win, which should be forever ashamed and which artist will become a legend.

This year, it wasn't like that. This year politics found its way in and wrecked everything. What was supposed to be a silly, funny, lighthearted show became so heavily politically charged, it broke under the weight.

And now that I think about it, Nemo breaking the trophy is the perfect metaphorical representation of this year's competition.

Just like that trophy, Eurovision is something frail and beautiful and mishandling can break it. And oh boy, the EBU truly mishandled it. Even if it was an accident, even if it wasn't done on purpose, the trophy is still broken. The show is broken.

But when asked about their broken trophy, Nemo didn't mourn it: Nemo gave words of hope. Maybe the broken trophy can be repaired. And maybe Eurovision can be repaired too.

How? Well, maybe by starting to learn when and how to apply rules. By using common sense and sensibility. And by checking the world outside too. If we want Eurovision to keep being that small window separated from real world problems, we can't just ignore them: we need to check them and react accordingly.

And if we have to break a rule to guarantee peace and safety, then so be it. One broken rule is not as important as safety and unity.

After all, what makes Eurovision isn't a set of rules: it's the artists, with their talents, their messages, their hopes, their voices, their dreams. They are Eurovision. They are the pull that draws everyone in. They are the reason why people are "united by music". Not because a rule orders them to, not because of the EBU: because of these artists.

Maybe the EBU can start from that. Maybe it can start by looking at the human aspect. Maybe it can start by going out and looking around. And maybe it can learn to take more care of the artists who are the foundation of the show.

And maybe, maybe, they will be able to repair Eurovision too.

See you, hopefully, next year.

[harper-pfg]

look, i know this was ages ago and it's already happened and gone by now but i just rewatched the semifinal 2 of eurovision 2024, and it got me thinking about the boycotting situation.

i get why people did it, but eurovision's whole like THING is that its purely about music, and bringing europe together. there was a stress especially this year i know as to not make it political. and yet people did. yes, what's going on is terrible, and i would never never deny that. maybe israel shouldn't have been allowed to compete this year. but they did. and that's a fact of life. there's no need to just stop watching it because of this. people are born in countries and thats where they live. if their country is doing what israel is to palestine, well thats shitty. but i'm sure that not everybody from israel there would do that to somebody else, so no need to boo them. blame it on the israeli government.

as for the palestinian flags/symbols, i know that they were banned. this would likely be because they're not a part of the competition, and therefore have no relevance to anything that's happening (inside the ESC i mean). i think also maybe another reason they were taken away/banned would be because they dont want to make it political. it's really just about europe and singing and joining together at the end of the day. no need to make it about ANYTHING else.

i would never ever say that what's happening isn't bad. im just trying to say, eurovision is not about politics. israel shouldn't've been let to compete, but they did.

it's already happened though. i can't change anything or do anything, not that it would matter. i just want to get my opinion across.

[congratsyoureanidiot]

(this gif is absolute shit my apologies. i had to get it from a youtube video😫 i will repost a more clear version of this)

chronically in love with you

emily sonnett x reader

this fic is loosely based off of my experience with pots and hyper mobile eds as an athlete. i hope anyone who reads this enjoys it😌

reader’s pov

It was nearing the 48th minute when you felt it hit, you were having a flare up right in the middle of the semifinal. Sure, you’ve had plenty of flare ups during games and you’ve played through bad days, but this was your first time having it happen in such a critical game. You groan slightly as you start to feel lightheaded and dizzy, your heart rate starting to increase.

“Fuck”, you mutter to yourself. You know you kind of need a minute to adjust to what’s happening to your body and to breathe. You don’t want to go off, however, or feel the need to quite frankly. Every other time this has happened your team gladly adapts to the situation, wanting to help in anyway they can. Sometimes you would have to go off for a second, while other times you’d stay on and just take it easy for a bit, your teammates only passing to you when necessary until you were okay to continue again. They’ve always told you that they’d have your back, all you had to do was say what you needed and they’d act accordingly. You look over your left shoulder as you’re getting back into position and see the one person that you feel most comfortable and confident that will help you in this situation. The one person that specifically promised to you that she’d look after you.

“Sonny”, you find yourself murmuring, doubting that she heard you over the ambience of the game.

sonny’s pov

The two of you had been dating for just a few weeks, Sonnett finally having the courage to ask you out. She already knew about your health problems because you had openly told the team, but she didn’t really know the exact details until she started talking romantically with you. Even before then she had always kept a watchful eye out for you, not being able to help herself due to her ever growing feelings. She had always asked how you were feeling and if you needed anything and would always be the first to notice when something was even slightly off. She would ask about your health and wanted to learn about everything that you had, no matter how complex the condition or the name was. Anytime you’d be feeling slightly more symptomatic than usual, she’d be the first to talk to you about it. If she noticed any discomfort on your part, she’d be the first to put a comforting hand on you. If you started to feel faint, she’d be the first to put her arms around you to steady you and keep you from falling. She was just always there when you needed her, and this only got stronger when the two of you got together. She seemed to know when you were feeling poorly even before you did, she’d recognize your tells even before you had time to register what was happening within your body. She’d ask if you took your medication and would give it to you if you ever forgot. If you fainted she’d be the first one to rush to your side and hold you until you were conscious and able to get up again. If you dislocated your joints she’d always comfort you as you got them put back in. She was always just there and ready to do whatever you asked of her. That’s why when you called out to her, ask weak as it was, she heard you.

“Sonny”, she just barely heard you say. She knew by the sound of your voice that something wasn’t right. She snapped her head towards you, concern evident in her features.

reader’s pov

Your eyes widen in disbelief when you realize that she heard you. In fact, you’d be a grinning mess if you didn’t feel so badly.

“I don’t feel good”, you manage to say a bit louder than you had said her name. You take a deep breath and move your legs around as you see her make eye contact with you, trying to calm your heart rate and keep your blood from pooling in your legs.

sonny’s pov

Her heart drops a bit as she looks at you and sees weak eyes looking back, worry starting to course through her body. She nods at you slightly, fully processing what you’ve said.

“Okay”, she says gently, her nods getting bigger as she turns to get into position. She tries her best to be as nonchalant as possible as she gestures to the rest of the team to cover for you. She doesn’t want to get herself too worked up about the situation and cause herself to make mistakes due to being worried about you. She does her best to keep an eye out for you while continuing to do what she needs to do for the team. She finds herself going extra hard for the next few minutes, wanting to do everything in her power to do a good job covering for you and allowing you time to take a minute to manage your health. She’ll be damned if she fucks anything up when it comes to you. She ends up being able to walk next to you as the team resets for a goal kick.

“Are you okay baby?”, she asks as she puts a hand on your lower back. She takes a look at you, searching for any signs of discomfort from you.

“Yeah”, she hears you respond.

“You sure? It’s alright if you’re not babe…I want you to take care of yourself”, she finds herself rubbing your back ever so slightly.

“I’m okay now Em, I’ll let you know if it changes.”, you respond honestly to her.

“Okay baby. I’ll be watching out for you”, she pats you on the back gently before going to the spot she needs to be in.

The rest of the game she keeps an eye out for you just like she promised, constantly looking to you and nodding to you to wordlessly ask if you’re okay. She takes pride in watching you recover and play your heart out for the rest of the game, cheering you on and giving you encouragement when she can. Once the game is over she makes a beeline to you and gives you a hug.

“I’m so proud of you baby. I know this isn’t the first time you’ve felt off during a game, but just getting to watch you work through it and all…and it’s such an important game and…I’m sure you felt a lot of pressure and…it-it was just so badass to me…I don’t know. I’m just…I’m proud to call you mine…”, she kind of chuckles.

“Don’t…don’t listen to me…uh…I’m sure you still feel like crap, huh?”, she shakes her head at her rambling and pulls from the hug to look at you.

“Yeah, it’s not as bad as it got during the game, but yeah i feel like some shit”, you tell her honesty.

“What can I do for you? When we get back do you want me to hold you or give you a massage or something? I’ll do whatever you need baby, just tell me.”, her eyes widen a bit out of curiosity as she sees a smile forming on your face.

“What?”, she feels a smile creeping onto her face, just not being able to help herself. She watches as you shake your head and start to walk towards the locker room, still smiling.

“What?!”, she says now laughing as she watches you walk away.

Later on back at the hotel she does just as she promised and tends to you and your needs. She holds you and asks what was bothering you during the game and how you managed to work through it, wanting to know in case she needs to help you or give encouragement to you while you recover. She talks with you and comforts you until it lulls you to sleep. She just watches you sleep for a long while, not believing she gets you call you hers. She feels her heart swell at the thought of spending all of her days with you and building a future with you. Even though it’s only been a few weeks since the two of you started dating, she feels like everything has just fallen into place and couldn’t imagine her life without you by her side.

“I love you baby”, she whispers into your ear, hoping that her words make their way into your dreams. She kisses you on the head and turns out the light, holding you even tighter with a smile on her face as she drifts off to sleep.