#super excited for casey

[astraskylark]

NEWS NEWS NEWS

News from Kerry

See here

[circust3ntcoll3ctiv3]

we’re going to an aquarium tomorrow!

[sherbetstudios]

Hey you’re asks don’t allow photos but the TOTH au sends their support for the upcoming tmnt iteration comp :)) Raph also made friendship beanies for everyone

They all love them

Also CASEY DESIGN JUMPSCARE!!! Idk why I gave her red highlights bc I’m pretty sure that’s karais thing but whatever lol

And I don’t have an April design yet, I’m so sorry 😭 also sorry this is kinda bad quality I have exams adrcybrdydaf

[microsuedemouse]

they really made some Choices with Back To The Sewer, huh

[love-killed-the-superstar]

explodes runs aronud does cartwheels flips on the floor scoots across the floor rolls arond

[princesskkfish]

you in fact did absolutely annihilate me-

and everyone

good job *claps*

now I’ll be over here crying and watching it again-

Contains spoilers for "Cass apocalyptic series" ;;;~~~;;; @somerandomdudelmao ehehehehehhe okay-okay-okay I am really exited to show this one, because this one work took so much emotions from me, there are much less moves and it's mostly just colored panels from the "Cass apocalyptic series", but god I loved adding every color in them, trying to show every of Raph's thoughts. his love, passion, hope, everything I hope I was able to do it properly *Jumps around* *Hugs Cass* Thank you SO MUCH for creating this story and bringing so much passion of creation in me

(Wait, oh my god, I was able to do it before start of new ark? OH YES)

[thewaragainstapathy]

I’m dead-set on finishing this (currently untitled) ROTTMNT post-movie fic, but I could use some friends to bounce around ideas. In the meantime please enjoy some of chapter 1. (And I’m not kidding about bouncing around ideas. PM me if you’re interested, I need some COMMUNITY!)

******

Reggie was no conspiracy nut, but there were two things she firmly believed: aliens existed, and mutants were a thing. 

The invasion proved her right about the aliens. She had officially won the bet with her sister, but there was no time to gloat when she was running for her life. In fact, at the rate she was going, Reggie doubted she’d survive long enough to collect. 

These alien fuckers were scarier than anything from the movies. Within minutes they’d pushed back the National Guard, corrupted the human weaponry, and used it to demolish her neighborhood. Helicopters with teeth were sure to star in her nightmares, assuming she lived long enough to sleep again. 

Reggie had kept up with the screaming masses for a while. As fires raged and smoke choked her lungs, however, she’d been forced to take cover long enough to find her inhaler. In the time it took her to get her breathing under control all the stragglers left her behind. 

She was alone, and more scared than she’d ever been in her life. 

Reggie had run for seven more blocks before she had to stop again. Most of the buildings around her were in ruins, but the fires were downwind and she’d found a dumpster to hide behind in a stable-ish alley. It would have to do until she could catch her breath. 

There were still no other people around—a bad sign for sure—but there were no immediate threats, either. Reggie took another puff from her inhaler and risked a moment to find her water bottle. She couldn’t drink much; she only had half a bottle left, and she’d bet her salary that the water lines were down. She’d have to take a sip or two and keep moving. 

Then the light show started, and moving was out of the question.

Reggie watched with terror-laced awe as a Michael Bay-worthy sci-fi battle raged before her eyes. Gold chains of fire, purple rockets, and blue portals of light zipped through the air, working in tandem with a red-lit giant. Debris was still falling, but most of it was over the water now, so she did the one thing she’d sworn she’d never do during a disaster.

She pulled out her phone and started filming.

Monique, you are not gonna believe this.

All things considered, Reggie had a good angle. She saw the red giant—which she could swear was a turtle—fall and crash-land across the bay. She saw the explosion as the spaceship was cut in half, and ducked behind the dumpster as the blast wave rushed past. 

And she saw a katana, still glowing blue, fall from the sky to land in the street.

Within five minutes it was over.  

She hit stop and wondered what the hell she should do now. 

*****

Casey had never felt more lost in his life. 

They’d saved the world, right? He’d done what Master Leonardo had told him to do. He’d found the key. He’d stopped the Krang. 

But now he was here, in this strange world he didn’t recognize, with a family that was so familiar but wasn’t his, and after everything they’d done? Everything his masters had sacrificed to get him here? 

He’d still lost Master Leonardo.

No. Not Master Leonardo. Not my sensei. Just… just Leo.

Did that make it better, or worse? Either way Casey wanted to cry, but he couldn’t give in to grief, not yet. Not while the Sister Krang was still a threat. He could mourn after she was dealt with. Until then he would tamp down his feelings like the soldier he was.

But then… then he saw Leo’s katana, fallen just like his master. 

His hockey stick fell to the ground with a clatter.

[somerandomdudelmao]

I am sooooo super excited for the Future Turtles to be meeting the Present Turtles, but I wanted to take a moment and tell you how much I really loved and felt the latest update.

Having F!Leo criticising Leo's decisions and openly stating "this dude makes nothing but really fucking dumb decisions"- like, he's so mad at this kid for getting it so consistently wrong, when Casey is completely capable and they're the same age.

Then the "they made it about me when they took my brother" and F!Leo just... freezes. That resonates with him. And then he thinks about the fact Leo voluntarily trapped himself in the Prison Dimension, and that gives Casey the opening he's been waiting for.

Twice. TWICE he watched Leonardo sacrifice himself for the world. TWICE Leonardo took Casey's choice away the portal shut between them. TWICE Casey thought Leonardo was gone forever. And Casey is FURIOUS about it. He gets it, of course he does, but it doesn't change the fact he lost Leonardo twice.

Then F!Leo listens to Casey's rant and his demeanor towards Leo shifts again.

He seems to contemplate the kid, not judge. And I wonder if that's partially because- and this might just be my interpretation- Casey is somewhat defending Leo. F!Leo is all set for passing judgement on the kids terrible choices, but in the end they both made similar self-sacrificing decisions for the benefit of others.

Idk, it just seems like this interaction was a nice balance between F!Leo being thoroughly disappointed in Leo for making bad decisions (as the Leader of a Resistance would be), and realising Leo (and himself back then) was just a kid thrust into war he wasn't ready for.

Oh, yeah. Future Leo is judging little Leo. And he has every right to do so. Because the things that little Leo has done and made others do are stupid and dangerous.

"They made it about me when they took my brother" makes him kinda freeze, y e s. Because that's the first hint. The first moment he looks at the small version of himself and realizes. Shit, it sounds awfully fucking familiar. It resonates.

And Casey's next words. It's not just about both Leos' penchant for self-sacrifice. It's that despite their differences, they share the same core. The past you is still you. He's stupider, he's more inexperienced, but your ideals and your values are also his. Face it.

[dontlookatmytmntcollection]

SOCIAL BATTERIES

Do the boys REALLY like people that much?

Character studies.

Going from the most Extroverted to the least.

- 🟠 -

Mikey is THE definition of an extrovert

Suprise, suprise.

I keep thinking about him making fun of Casey constantly, and his fist bump with Vern, or him working the crowd on Halloween. And his eye rolls at Raph and Leo

Can be annoying af and play dumb, but half the time he knows way more than he let's on. And it's SUPER hard to get him angry.

Would be in a fraternity tbh. And like, seven sport teams.

The world is a lesser place with him cooped up away from it.

He's a HUGE teaser and talker. Loves to flirt and prank and play the vibes.

He's a NATRUAL at it

Give him ONE conversation. ONE chance, and he can get literally anyone out of their shell.

Loves having April or Casey or Vern around. Loves teasing them or harassing them tbh.

The bigger his social circle, the better his life.

Is usually a HUGE buffer between humans and his grumpy, tired brothers.

He would be the LIFE of the party. Would be an excellent host of an event, because he'd be everywhere talking to everyone. Remembering everyone by name and face, introducing people to one another, so on and so forth.

He would have multiple friend groups everywhere he goes, with all sorts of different types of people.

Out of his brothers, I see Mikey having the body count tbh

Also probably jumped into a relationship too soon and got hurt early on. He'll be way more ready for the next one.

He has SO MUCH TEXTING TO DO.

His favorite is snap chat.

The BEST out of all his brothers at reading social cues and body language. By FAR.

Can find something to talk about with ANYONE

He's been wishing to socialize his WHOLE LIFE. So he DO!

Probably the only one that can confront and process trauma in a healthy manner.

Not at all afraid of deeper, more meaningful conversations.

Often finds himself the one initiating deep conversations with people who need it the most (his brothers).

He knows there is a time and place for problem solving. And sometimes you just gotta sit with your feels.

Something his brothers STRUGGLE WITH

- 🟣 -

Donatello might not be EXTROVERTED but he is outgoing.

Second to Mikey, everyone in his family has a close relationship with Donnie.

Super caring and fun and inquisitive with everyone he meets.

He'll be down for ANYTHING. Sports, games, cooking, drives, crafts, working out, adventures or pranks or geeky movie nights.

He might not always be good at INICIATING these with strangers but he loves going along with stuff.

Loves showing people his projects and stuff and letting people use them or have them.

Will be there for his friends the instant they ask.

At a party he'd be in another room having a conversation with two or three people.

But I also see him hanging around girls a little more than guys. Finds the girlies to be easier company than guys.

He's been on discord for YEARS. He had human friends before even Mikey did.

But.

He's HYPERVIGALANT of the vibe

Extreme empath.

He does NOT like confrontation.

A HUGE people pleaser.

Feels he's stepping on eggshells around his loved ones and friends. In an effort to keep them happy.

He's a sensitive guy.

If he's told to shut up or be quiet, especially if he's excited or talking outloud- he's modified. He WILL shut up. For a while.

His brothers know this. While they get exasperated sometimes, they rarely interrupt him.

Does NOT like gossip. Don't gossip with him, he hates it

Makes him feel gross and mean.

Hates when people are upset or sad in any way.

When vibes get rough he does not cope well. Often chooses to avoid or straight up leave.

When things get heated he gets overstimulated quickly.

If he can't leave, he shuts down. He won't talk and if he does it's very quiet

Doesn't know how to help or address emotional things either. He prefers to let it go and just move on, leaving stuff unaddressed.

He's an outgoing and pleasant guy, but he definitely doesn't mix with everyone.

- 🔴 -

Meeting Raphael is a terrifying experience.

Because he talks and looks at you like he hates you already.

But he doesn't hate people.

He just sucks at them.

Raph wants a normal life just as badly as Mikey does.

Raphs love language is harassment???

He shows his love by annoying his loved ones. Or through teasing and banter. Or wrestling his bros to the ground or pull them into rough hugs.

However

When he meets new people he isn't there to make FRIENDS.

He's there to let you know that if you bullshit with his family you're gonna get whooped.

So he will posture and glare and tower and maybe even roll his neck or crack knuckles to anyone.

Literally anyone.

Remember how rude he was to April?

So when he can't do any of that- no banter, no pranks, no wrestling and no INTIMIDATING-

He is COMPLETELY at everyone's mercy

Put him in a group of girls, or take him to a party or a bar. ANYTHING out of his comfort zone.

He's very awkward.

Only because he's kinda quiet

And honestly SUPER shy.

Wants to be liked SUPER badly.

He doesn't know how to make friends. At all

Flirt with Raph. I dare you.

You'd terrify him

Is the type of guy at a party to stick to the side of someone he knows and never. Leave. It.

But he finds out he gets along with blue collar guys the most.

And Raph has this super power

He can detect if you're a good or bad character super quickly. Much quicker than everyone else in his family. Like, one conversation in.

Not that he really believes himself. He thinks everyone's out to get him. or his family

If he's not making fun of you, you know he doesn't like you.

Is the type of guy to have quality over quantity relationships.

Hates texting. Honestly hates social media and technology beyond like...insta reels or something. He doesn't like sitting on his phone or video games all the much. Half because he breaks things easily or gets easily frustrated at leaning how to work it.

Rather be doing something active or working on a car or build something or carve stuff.

Might not be as outgoing as Donnie or Mikey, but if people manage to ACTIALLY get him to do something fun, he is ALL IN and having a BLAST.

The kinda guy to crash at his friends house and just chill.

He recharges when he's in proximity of his loved ones. Not always SOCIALIZING but having his people close.

-🔵-

Our REAL introvert

He struggles to socialize even with his BROTHERS

Who are the only people in the world he allows himself to be even semi relaxed around

A conversation with anyone other than his dad and brothers is the opposite of a relaxing/easy activity.

He's honorable, polite, and formal.

But Leo is and EXTREMLY cold character.

Sometimes even a bit cruel and scary to strangers.

Has a weird habit of wrapping his arm kindly around someone he's about to hurt

Struggles to see even April as more than an 'asset' or 'person dad holds dear'

Doesn't see Vern as a friend. Doesn't see Casey as a friend.

Leo is the only turtle April doesn't have a strong connection to. Not out of lack of trying.

Tolerates social situations only if he falls into a leading (controlling) role.

Doesn't like large groups of people.

Very quiet otherwise.

Struggles to initiate activities with his brothers.

He sucks at it.

He is always receptive to when they reach out to him though

And kinda has a fear of getting turned down. Getting turned down by his brothers makes him sick to his stomach.

Not that he admits it.

He also doesn't handle rejection with any grace. Gets just a LITTLE pushy to make you either feel bad or like he's in charge

His brothers still gotta tolerate him being a little bossy and stuck up and a fun-sucker while they hang out with him. They know he can't help it.

But Leo is super relieved every single time they invite him to do something.

What would Leo be like at a party? Leo never WENT to the party. And if he DID, he'd be outside, trying to soak in the quiet. Listening to the party from out here.

or hug him, or just express somehow they still want him around or like him. Or love him. Because those moments are getting rarer and rarer the older they get.

He's completely alone other than his dad. At least he's thought so his whole life

Would be the one petting the cat. Or dog. Not the type to go LOOKING for it, but if it came to him, he would.

Yes, he texts, but never outside of absolute necessity. Or if his brothers remind him of April's birthday.

He likes to read

Even if Donnie, Mikey and Raph are together in the lair having fun, Leo is often by himself somewhere else.

He recharges alone. He does calligraphy and he sketches SOMETIMES. Little stick figures fighting with space guns or something.

But a lot of what he reads are super geeky stuff. Like star wars novels or manga.

But don't tell anyone.

Splinter is his preferred company. He adores time with his dad. He'll spar and train and talk with his dad often.

Doesn't care about having friends but he wants a girlfriend SUPER badly. More than all three of his brothers combined

Being alone with him sucks if you like to talk. He gives you a LOOK that SCREAMS shut the fuck up.

It takes EXTREMLY specific personalities to get Leo a little soft for them. A quiet person with a good sense of humor.

And the likely hood he'll ever get out to find and meet them is next to none existent.

But hey

Even after like, ALL OF THIS

It's not hard to get Leo to smile

[purplepixel]

YES. I AM SO EXCITED FOR HER.

You have no idea how starved I am for casey jones content. And I've been thinking about her a lot lately. How much we were robbed as a fandom for having the show cut short. She doesn't get portrayed a lot in fics which is honestly a crime, SO CURLY YOU'RE OUT HERE BRINGING JUSTICE FOR CASEY JONES.

Make casey jones say more than five words and not get sent to the background of a fight scene challenge. Judging from what you've said, I think you'll pass

I need more casey jones + hamato fam dynamics and heck yes I'm gonna get it from my fav rise author :]

Writing: Okay, show don't tell, keep the scene on track so it doesn't get boring, keep tangents at a minimum so it's not confusing.

Casey 'I SHALL ENTERTAIN YOU WITH BALLADS ABOUT THE ABOUT THE MANY FOES I HAVE RENT IN TWAIN' Jones: nuh uh >:}

I love her but she keeps changing the subject, heavy sigh.

[murasakibonnet]

My super late iteration of @kathaynesart’s Replica DTIYS . I have severely underestimated how long this’d take to finish but I’m so incredibly happy with how it turned out. I’m also very excited for what’s in store with the holiday special. Best well wishes to the incredibly talented Kat Haynes. ✨🌟✨

Pt. 2 doodle:

Probably one of my fave details is how Donnie, Casey, Leo and Mikey are all competing to get the highest score by beating up the most Kraang but poor Raph is two seconds away from picking everyone up and dashing away.

Sometime after the close encounter…

[repliiku]

please draw more silly salamanders !!! their so cute in your style please... I yearn for the amphibians...

if you don't feel like drawing you can just put together a master post of everyone uve drawn...

theyve def been on my list. i actually adore the consorts and as ive been less inclined to ship art as of late i have felt more excited to draw characters like the consorts in a more existing way such silly amphibians :))) sburb creation stories like pm wv and ar, jack, casey, and the sprites were super interesting to me. so to respond to your ask. heres a lineup of the kids consorts(+ plus guest star casey) as well as a collage of all the consorts ive drawn in the past

[delfiore]

—MY DEAREST FRIEND AND ENEMY. (1/5)

pairing: ona batlle x fem!reader

synopsis: you were ona’s biggest headache at man united, until you both move to barcelona.

word count: 3.7k

a/n: i’ve been watching the men’s game for years but i’ve finally sobered FINAL TODAY LET’S GO ENGLAND LET’S GO SPAIN (MOSTLY SPAIN)

PART II, PART III, PART IV, PART V

It started four years ago when Ona first signed for United. She didn’t notice at first the way you were always gunning for her, she was just doing her job.

But now, you were here in Barcelona with her. As she looked up at you, a soft smile on your face, everything she had buried in the past year all came rushing back.

Everyone was aware of the new signing from the States for her rival club just a couple of weeks before, a dragged-out saga of whether you were going to choose City or United. Unfortunately for her, you chose the Sky Blues.

If things had been different, maybe she wouldn’t have despised you as much as she did.

The first Manchester derby you played, she thought marking you would be easy until you dribbled past her several times to register a goal and assist. She must have been glowering at you when she walked back to the midfield line, because you shrugged before grinning at her, saying: “All in a day’s work.”

“Could I just ask what put Man City above all the other contenders for your signature?” “Well, I mean, it’s a great club with a great history, amazing players too. I’ve spoken at length with the new manager and he gave me a rough plan for next year’s project. So I’m really excited and confident that it’ll be a great destination for me.” “What do you say to the people who think you’ve chosen City for the money?” “People can think whatever they want to think. I’ll just play my game, and they can judge me all they want. It’s all anyone’s good for.” “You’ve just transferred from Portland, you’ve got an enormous price tag for the women’s game, tons of big clubs in Europe wanted you. There’s a mounting pressure on you, it seems. Do you think you’ll be up for the challenge of the Women’s Super League?” “It’s no fun if it’s not a challenge.”

Ona Batlle was what people considered a modern full-back, dangerous in attack just as she was solid in defense. But when playing against Man City, she usually has to stay back to avoid a dangerous winger finding their way into the box; you. It wasn’t her way of playing, and it frustrated her that that was what her role was while her team was struggling to create chances, especially when she knew she could help.

“I want you to stay back and mark Y/L/N. Whatever you do, do not let her out of your sight,” Casey had told her.

She hated you for caging her in, and the worst part was she wasn’t sure if she can stop you sometimes.

The night before her next game against you, she watched how you played the previous match, studied your movement carefully, and took notes. She liked that she had found a pattern. You liked to use your speed, but you also liked to taunt your defenders; a pace of prime Thierry Henry’s, and showboating tendencies like that of Neymar. It’s why you were so entertaining to watch, because every defender you faced ended up a sort of decoration to your parlor tricks, her included.

Ona never liked being second best to anybody, and certainly not to you.

And so when she was on the pitch, zeroing on you like a hawk, there was nothing stopping her from getting away from you. She didn’t need to resort to any risky challenges, she just needed to stick with you, keep you at arm’s length, and stay between you and the goal at all costs.

You may be a skilled player for your age, but controlling your temper is something you haven’t been able to achieve. She heard you cursing a few times, eventually earning you a yellow card when your insults were directed at the referee.

The ball had only left the City’s goalkeeper, Roebuck, yet she already felt you pushing back against her.

The game ended 3-1 for United, but she was secretly much happier that she had managed to piss you off so much, that you didn’t bother shaking hands with her afterwards.

“Congratulations, Ona. A huge victory for United. What do you think went well today?” “I think that our plans worked because we practiced and showed what we’re able to do. We didn’t have a lot of possession, but we focused on the counterattacks, and I think that definitely was a very effective tactic today.” “I have to ask you about Y/N Y/L/N. She’s been a formidable player in the league until now, and notoriously difficult to defend against, but she was practically silenced today on the left-hand side. Do you think you had something to do with that?” “I think what I’ve prepared in defense has worked out, for sure. I’ve also got my teammates to thank for covering the grounds for me. Y/L/N is a good player, and it’s always a joy to play against her.”

Her rivalry with you continued, and soon even the press was picking up on it. Manchester derbies now included Y/L/N v. Batlle, and everyone was predicting what crazy thing would happen next. It wasn’t common for defenders to make waves in the paper compared to superstar strikers or even midfielders unless they were linked with a big move. But soon Ona was reading about herself in the news, how she has defended Manchester United’s left wing with an iron grip, how they started calling her la matadora, for her ability to hold off forwards and tame them like bullfighters do.

One bull remained to be tamed though, and her conundrum continued into her second season at United.

Unlike her, you seemed to take the new breath of fame easily enough. Day in and day out, there were news of you scoring goals and bringing Man City to the top of the table by November.

You were born to be a star.

But Ona knew from shooting stars in the game that burned out too quickly; if you let what’s outside the pitch get to you, you might as well just leave it altogether. You might have been a good player, on your way to becoming a great one even, but you did have a flare for the dramatics which riled up the press quite a bit. If she was lucky, maybe the pressure would take you out of the game before she does.

International breaks were times she always look forward to, being able to represent her country. Even if they were friendly matches, she knew Spain was always being watched, as a team’s form was important on the world stage. The team would play two friendly matches, the first one being against Brazil and the other against the United States. Some friendly fixtures . . .

Brazil was a breeze, mainly because she wouldn’t have to face her biggest adversary. Naturally, you were called up to your national team, and the back-and-forth game persisted.

She had played against you many times at club level, but the way you played for your country was something else. There was more passion to the way you weave your way through defenders, more flare to your shots. It could also be the adrenaline of being called up for the first time, and wanting to prove yourself—she knew that feeling well.

It didn’t come as a surprise, then, that when a long ball was played over the defense line and Marta Cardona was on her way towards goal, you’d be there to strike her down right at the edge of the box. Her teammates appealed, and the referee paused the game, but all Ona saw was red. With a speed she didn’t know she had in her, she sprinted to you and shoved you away as you were bending down in a show of checking on Marta.

“What was that?! You could have broken her ankle, cabrona!”

“Watch it.”

You had never seen her so angry before—her jaw locked as she continued to hurl insults at you. If she wasn’t your mortal enemy maybe you could have found it attractive. So you pushed back, and soon both your teammates and hers crowded around you, trying to separate you. Kelley put her arm around your neck and walked away, telling you to “keep your cool, this is only a friendly”.

Never, you thought. Never while I’m playing against her.

You apologized to Marta eventually, and she was cool with it. “Heat of the moment”, she said, and you were grateful. You never meant to hurt anyone. Sometimes you just couldn’t control your adrenaline spike.

As expected, Ona didn’t even look at you after the match. So you went home with Marta.

The next morning at breakfast, Ona heard laughing from the girls surrounding Marta.

“How was your American late-night snack, Marta?” Leila laughed.

The girl only shook her head with a grin. “It was delicious, alright.”

Ona didn’t know what that twisted feeling in her gut was when she heard what Marta said, as she walked back to her hotel room after breakfast. She just knew that as long as she was alive, you were the most despicable person she knew.

ESPN: Y/L/N-Batlle Feud Continues, Bonmatí Controls Midfield in Spain-USWNT Clash “LOS ANGELES -- Thursday night saw a friendly match between Spain’s women's national team and the USWNT at the Snapdragon Stadium that ended in a 2-2 draw. Several debutants started for both teams, including Man City powerhouse Y/N Y/L/N. After a stunning cross into the box from the left for Mallory Pugh to tap in, a dangerous slide tackle on Marta Cardona ensured Y/L/N to be the heart of a confrontation between several players, including Ona Batlle. It seems their club rivalry persists as they were seen giving each other a very clear piece of their minds, and several clashes succeeded the Cardona tackle. It would have been a good performance for both if not for the slip of attitude. One thing is clear, though; the mentality is there, and it sure is entertaining to watch. […]”

The end of the season was fast approaching, and while you had become a thorn in her side, it came to a point in which she would not think about you until a week before a clash. This one in particular was crucial in the race for a Champions League spot that both Manchester clubs were vying for. She knew what it meant for the club to secure a UCL spot for the first time, and you were not about to ruin it for her.

Tooney and Millie invited her out for dinner the night before the derby, but she turned them down, opting for a quiet night in instead. After a few hours, however, she suddenly felt antsy, the anticipation before the game nipping at her. It was only 7pm when she checked and she decided to go for a run. She followed the familiar path she always takes to the nearby park, and she was glad she did because the sun was going down, leaving a glorious trail of orange in the sky. She loved these peaceful moments, away from adrenaline, away from the constant pressure, away from constantly having to push herself or she’d be called ‘lazy’.

A constant huffing sound appeared next to her, and when Ona looked down she saw an adorable corgi looking up at her while wagging its tail.

“Hello,” she bent down and pet the dog. Loving the attention, the little corgi jumped up in an attempt to lick her face, to which she let out a laugh.

“Bratwurst! Come back here!” She heard a voice call in the distance, which she assumed must have been the owner. “Sorry, he loves people.”

Ona looked up, and her face dropped. You did the same, standing frozen in front of her. Bratwurst was jumping up and down before you, probably excited that he received pets from someone else today.

She had never seen you in plain clothes before. You clearly knew how to dress yourself, because she might have admitted that you looked good if she didn’t hate you so much. But it was difficult to see you as anything else other than Y/N Y/L/N, Manchester City winger, and potentially Golden Boot winner this season by the looks of it.

And yet, she sat down on a nearby bench with you anyway, watching Bratwurst stick his butt in the air, attempting to catch a squirrel.

“I named him Bratwurst ‘cause he’s . . . long, you know?” You chuckled. ”Short form is Brat too, that’s kinda funny.”

In a sea of northern Englishmen, she never got to hear your American accent properly as she’d only heard you speak no more than two words to her, and most of the time they weren’t pleasant.

“How do you have time to own a dog?” She asked.

“He’s a foster. I just got him a couple of weeks ago.” You looked down at your fingers. “It’s nice to have him to come home to.”

The conversation died down, and suddenly Ona felt like this was a mistake. Maybe she should just leave, and continue her run. But she saw a different side to you—a gentler, quieter side unlike the boastful player she knew you as—and she wasn’t sure whether it was a good thing or not.

“Are you planning on adopting him permanently?”

“Maybe. I just want to make sure that I’m settled before making him move.”

You leaned back, placed your arm on the bench, and closed your eyes.

“You don’t want to stay in Manchester?”

“I don’t know yet. Why, would you be happy if I did?” You smirked, and she saw a glimpse of that player again.

Yes. “Your presence doesn’t bother me. It doesn’t bring me any joy either.”

“Just face it, Batlle.” You turned your body to her. “I get under your skin, don’t I?”

Ona blinked, her jaw clenching. “You don’t intimidate me, Y/L/N. You might be used to people bowing at your feet, but I won’t let you walk all over me. We will win tomorrow, and you might think to show some respect for others in the game.”

“Sorry, Batlle, can’t let you win. We’re playing Champions League next season.” You really enjoyed taunting her.

Ona huffed and stood up. As she walked away, she heard you call out to her. “See you on the pitch tomorrow, la matadora!”

There was nothing you could ever do to make yourself less hateful in her eyes.

It was matchday, kick-off time. Ona saw you on the other side of the midfield line. “Remember what you came here to do, and finish the job,” Marc had told them in the dressing room. He was right. She had a job to do, and she wasn’t about to let you ruin that for her.

They were to play with a high line today, which required Ona to stay near the midfield line and run back, should a forward slip through. About halfway through the first half, she had a startling realization; you were dropping back too, playing a number-10 role. It meant that she couldn’t do what she did last time you met, because there would be a gaping hole where she covers.

United was leading 1-0 by halftime, and while they had the advantage, the fight was far from over.

“Okay, ladies. Have a drink and take a seat,” Marc stood at the front of the dressing room. “We’re doing good, we’re holding them off. Keep up the pressure.”

Ona sat back to catch her breath. You were much more versatile than she thought, and maybe that was her mistake for underestimating you. It seemed too easy that you were giving her exactly what she wanted, playing high at the flank like she always does. There was more to it, but she needed to adapt.

Ona held your gaze for a moment across the field. You weren’t giving up. It seemed you were confident enough in whatever wicked plan you still had up your sleeve, that you sent her a smirk back.

It was the 70th minute of the game and they were so close to achieving it. Katie was looking for a pass, so Ona made herself available.

There was empty space near the side of the box, and she wanted to utilize it but it meant having to get past a couple of defenders.

“Vilde! 1, 2!” She called, passed the ball to her teammate, and started running. Her momentum was halted when Vilde’s ball was cut off and instantly launched forward.

The counterattack came so quickly, it must have been what you practiced. 1-1.

Suddenly, the tides have shifted. The momentum was with City. Time was running out, and the sudden goal disoriented her team. It took about five minutes for everyone to get their head back into the game, but Ona could tell City were used to having possession by then.

And then, in the 88th minute, you were given the ball from the left. Everyone except Alessia had dropped back to defend a series of dangerous balls up until now. You didn’t have anyone to pass to without getting intercepted, and you were outside of the box. So you took the shot. She watched helplessly as the ball flew past Mary into the top right corner.

1-2.

Ona’s body ran cold as she watched you celebrate with your teammates.

When the final whistle came shortly after, she collapsed on her knees.

Some of her teammates were there to console her, but she let their comfort pass through her. She needed to break something.

She needed to get away from everyone and found a spot near the bathrooms where she could catch her breath. Her boots were dangling from her hand by the laces. She slumped against a wall and began to cry, the boots clattering next to her on the floor.

It wasn’t that she was sad to have lost—she blamed herself for letting you get to her head. The interaction of the day before got her thinking what ifs. What if we didn’t meet under these circumstances? What if I could have just gotten to know you without wanting to rip your head off every time I see you?

You heard quiet sobs down the hallway and knew it was her. You had quickly gone into the tunnel when you didn’t see her anywhere on the pitch, but you certainly weren’t expecting to see her cry.

“Batlle?” You called.

She didn’t seem to notice you, sitting against the wall and wiping her face with her shirt.

“Hey, it’s okay.” That was a stupid thing to say considering you just beat her out of a Champions League spot, of course it’s not okay.

“I’m really not in the mood,” she said, looking away.

“You did good out there,” you said, watching her anxiously.

“Don’t act like you care,” she sniffled. “You got what you wanted.”

“I’m not as heartless as you think, Ona.” You quipped back. “I’m not sorry that we won, but I am sorry that you’re hurt.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” She sobbed and glared at you. It sent a chill down your bones. “I wish we had never met.”

How do you tell her that you never meant for things to go this way? That every word you had ever said to her didn’t stem from malice but from fear? You had wished to push her away so that you don’t collide with her head-on. How do you tell her that no matter how hard you tried, you still gravitated toward her?

“I’m sorry.” You repeated, like a fool.

She was hurting because of you.

You snuck a glance at the form of the girl in front of you, like you would be penalized if you were caught looking at her. You took a step back to go, but she held onto your arm and pulled your body against her.

You had been fantasizing about having your mouth against her for months, usually in absurd circumstances, like you two making out in a bed of roses or you giving her a kiss after she, a masked superhero, saved you from danger. Never like this, muscles aching, sweat coating your foreheads, wearing your respective uniforms—being so you doing this.

You wanted to enjoy it. Her lips were soft and salty, and she might have secured you by the waist against her. Your knees trembled as you sighed into her lips, pushing her against the wall gently. Your hesitancy soon turned into hunger, as you pressed your body into hers, desperate to feel her.

Murmurs in the distance snapped you out of it. “Where’s Ona?” You made out one of the voices saying.

You looked back at her, your faces just inches away. You never noticed, but she had so many beautiful freckles adorning her face.

“Ona—“ You said, but she quickly picked up her boots and left towards the voices.

Chest heaving and head spinning, you slumped against the wall with a small grin, bringing your fingers up to touch your lips where she had been.

“Where have you been?” Keira asked in the dressing room, but you just shook your head.

“Just to the bathroom.”

Sky Sports: Man City’s Talisman Y/N Y/L/N Nets Stunning Late Goal Against Man United To Secure UWCL Spot […]

a/n: this gif is so y/n and ona coded

[theothertrainer]

Can you promise to behave yourself or at least give me warnings before you do things?

*in Aaron's bed*

@aaron-trainer

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

I Need You To

Casey Novak x autistic!fem!reader Warnings: pure fluffy fluff, established relationship, injury, hospital, coming to terms with a disability, insinuations of sex Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: After a serious injury, you're diagnosed with a disability that inhibits your day-to-day life. There are accessibility tools you can use, but you're self-conscious about using them out and about. Your girlfriend, Casey, is there for you every step of the way.

"Hey, Case, can you grab my glove?" you called, double-knotting the laces of your cleats. You were jittery with excitement. It was your first softball game since last October, when you'd broken your ankle running to first. And then played through it. And then fallen again and slammed your head into the ground and passed out. You'd woken up in an ambulance with a teary and terrified Casey grasping your hand so hard she almost cut off circulation. She was livid when she found out later that you'd been hurt and kept playing.

But you were better now. Well... mostly better. At the emergency room after the game, the doctor had examined your x-ray, MRI, and EEG results.

"It looks like you've broken this bone in your ankle before?" he said, frowning.

"I have."

Casey whipped her head around to look at you, her eyebrows a question mark. The doctor stared at you pointedly.

"How many times exactly?" he asked.

You felt yourself shrinking under Casey's hard gaze. "Uh... this ankle? Three times."

"In how long?"

"The, uh... the last five years."

Casey's jaw dropped and you winced. You were gonna get an earful on the way home.

"What about the other ankle?"

You felt like you were digging yourself a deeper and deeper grave.

"Twice."

"Any other broken bones? In the last five years?"

You listed them off, trying to avoid Casey's eyes.

"My thumb, my wrist, a toe or two."

"Any falls with seemingly no cause?"

"Yeah."

"How many?"

You glanced furtively at Casey. "More than I can count."

The doctor nodded and asked you a few more questions. Casey sat beside you, fuming, as you answered.

At the end of the visit, you had two crutches, a boot cast, some heavy-duty pain meds for your concussion, and a referral to a genetics clinic.

"I think you might have Ehlers-Danlos syndrome," the doctor had said.

Casey googled the condition all the way home.

"Y/N, this is serious," she said earnestly, supporting you as you hobbled through the door of your apartment.

"I don't know. None of that stuff you said about it sounded too bad. I'm just super flexible, basically."

Casey rolled her eyes at you. "Yeah, and apparently break every bone in your goddamn body on a regular basis."

When you were scared, you froze. You always froze. Casey did not. Casey made sure you scheduled your genetics appointment. She made sure you went. And when the geneticist confirmed the Ehlers-Danlos diagnosis, she was the one who asked what things you could do to help the condition, while you stayed silent, anxious and overwhelmed.

You just wanted everything to go back to normal. So what if you broke a bone more frequently than everyone else? It was no big deal.

"It is a big deal if it keeps you from doing things you love," Casey argued on the way home. "And if there are things you can to do to get better, you should do them."

"I guess so," you conceded, staring out the window of the cab.

"Y/N," she said, gently grabbing your face and turning it towards her when you didn't answer.

"Why can't you just let it be, Casey?" you whispered.

"Because you deserve to live the best life." She looked at you so intensely you had to look away. "You deserve to live without fucking breaking a bone every year. You deserve to play softball if you want to and run if you want to and not look at the fucking ground the whole time when we're on a hike because you're so scared you're gonna fall and break something."

You glanced at her, surprised and a little ashamed. "I didn't know you noticed that..."

"You love being outside. I'm gonna notice if you're looking at tree roots instead of a mountain vista. I just didn't know why."

You looked away, anxious about the Ehlers-Danlos. Anxious about what you'd have to do to make it better. Anxious that all those things wouldn't make it better in the end, would all be for nothing.

"Hey," she said wrapping an around you and planting a kiss on the side of your head. "We're gonna figure this out, okay?"

You nodded and exhaled quietly. "Okay."

Now, after months of healing and then more months of physical therapy, you were finally cleared to get back out on the field. You couldn't play catcher anymore—unnecessary strain on your ankle and knee joints, the physical therapist said. But you'd been practicing playing third base with Casey, and you'd grown to enjoy it almost as much as playing catcher.

"Casey, come on!" you yelled, tapping your foot on the floor. "We're gonna be late!"

Casey sauntered in, team uniform on, softball bag slung over her shoulder.

"I put your glove in the bag," she said, then dropped a pair of AFOs in front of you. "Put 'em on."

You hated them. You hated the way they looked, like some kind of plastic, kiddie Forrest Gump contraption. You hated that they altered the way you walked, the ease with which you could run and twist and reach.

You shook your head. "You know, I don't think I need them. I've been doing the exercises and stuff. My joints are stronger now."

"Y/N." Her voice was forceful as she squatted down in front of you. "Put. On. The AFOs."

"No," you said, trying and failing to sound nonchalant. "I'm telling you, I don't need them." You stood, making a move toward the door.

The pure, physical fact of the matter was that Casey was bigger and stronger than you. She didn't manhandle you often, but she did now. She grabbed your shoulders and shoved you back down onto the chair, huffing as she pulled off one cleat and then the other.

Now you were both mad.

"Casey, it's my fucking decision," you argued, trying to wrench your foot from her grip as she slipped the AFO over your softball sock. "I don't want to wear them! I hate wearing them!"

"I need you to!" she yelled, her face flushed, looking at the ground.

You watched her, your anger dissipating as you saw the worry in her eyes.

"I need you to," she repeated, softer this time. "I don't want to carry your body off the fucking field again."

You were both silent and still for a moment, Casey's hand resting on your leg, yours running gently through her hair.

Casey resumed her work on the AFOs, gently pulling on one and then the other, tightening the Velcro straps, forcing your cleats over them. You let her.

"There," she said, looking up at you. "Was that so bad?"

You hadn't worn the AFOs out yet, not where people could see them. You always had on sweatpants or joggers or jeans, something that covered them up. But with your softball shorts on, everyone would be able to see.

You avoided Casey's eyes, your hands shaking at your sides.

"Y/N," she sang, taking your hands gently in hers and flattening them, massaging the stress out.

"I look stupid," you whispered, trying not to cry. "Everyone's gonna make fun of me."

She cupped your face in her hands, looking earnestly into your eyes. "No one's gonna make fun of you, sweetheart." She brushed her thumb along your cheekbone. "And if they do, I'll kick their asses."

You nodded, still slumped in the chair.

"I think you look hot," Casey added, grinning slightly.

You rolled your eyes at her. "Yeah. Sure you do."

"I do," she nodded, moving her hands to your hips and planting kisses from your collarbone up to your neck. "In like a... cyborg, Inspector Gadget kind of way."

"What?!" you said, laughing. "That's so dumb."

She finally made her way to your lips, and the warmth of them took your breath away, made your stomach flutter.

"You know what's really hot about them, though?"

"What?" you replied, following her out the door.

She kissed you one more time for good measure. "It's one more thing I get to take off of you afterward."

You smiled, blushing. Maybe the AFOs weren't so bad after all.

[leighaltieri]

stu macher with a ghostface obsessed s/o

request: Perchance stu x reader who's just like low-key obsessed with the ghost face case and talks Abt it all the time

warnings: gn reader, mentions of murder & blood

notes: sorry this took so long to get to you! i've been super busy with work but i hope you like it <3

scream masterlist

when casey becker and steven orth were murdered, you were fascinated by their deaths

you were always coming up with theories about who the killer could be

you'd share them with your friend group and occasionally they'd make fun of you

"hey, you ever think maybe y/n's the killer? i mean, c'mon, they're always talking about the murders! bet they're just trying to throw us off, acting all innocent and stuff!" your boyfriend stu teased

"yeah right. if i was the killer, you'd already be dead" you laughed, shoving him playfully

when you eventually got a call from the killer, you were excited but also kinda freaked out

"i've heard you can't stop talking about me. i'm flattered, y/n, really"

you wondered if he was one of your friends

you only talked about the murders with your friend group, and he somehow knew about those conversations

you looked out of your window and saw him in your backyard.

you waved, grinning at him

"i can see you!" you teased

he waved back, gripping his knife

"you wanna come in? maybe take that mask off?" you asked, half joking

he shook his head

"not tonight, babe. gotta keep you guessing. you'll find out who i am eventually."

he hung up the phone, and you processed what he'd just said

only one person ever called you babe

the next day, stu climbed through your window at night

"it's you, isn't it? you're the killer?" you said, smirking at him

“who, me? you've been watching too many horror movies."

"i know it's you. you called me babe on the phone last night"

"you really think it's me? ouch, babe!"

you just looked at him, a knowing smile on your face

"you know, i'm still convinced it's you," he teased "you're like obsesed with the murders, it's kinda freaky"

"you know it's not me"

he leaned in closer to you, you could feel his breath on your face

"what would you do if i was the killer? you gonna run away screaming?"

"is that your way of admitting that it's you?" you laughed

"i guess i'd have to help you out"

he looked at you in surprise "you're serious?"

"dead serious"

he looked at you for a moment, you could see the wheels turning in his head

"you're crazier than i am, babe" he grinned

"maybe i am" you stood on tiptoes to kiss him

you made out for ages

he stayed the night, your arms wrapped around him so he didn't fall out of your twin size bed

he's so tall

he loves how crazy you are <3

you helped him and billy kill everyone else

billy didn't trust you at first but stu convinced him to let you help

he thought you'd tell the cops everything but you could never do that to stu

stu is so so proud of you

he loves watching you stab the shit out of people

he'd rip his mask off to kiss you, pulling you close with his bloody hands

he'd get blood all over your face and clothes but you didn't care

you're the murder duo ever

billy loomis who

sid would never suspect you and honestly i think the 3 of you would stand a good chance of killing her

especially if she killed stu with the tv

you would never let her get away with that