#threatened by one player = no confidence in own team

[pbuckets-5]

uconn’s lost player

what happens when Uconn loses a key player? what happens to Paige?

warnings- angst??, injuries, alcohol

author note - hi this is my first fic lol so sorry if it’s shit

tv-billie eilish

did you see me on tv?

Uconn Daily News

player #5, Paige Bueckers, mourns loss of fellow teammate #12.

Number 12, y/n l/n, on the Uconn Huskies women’s basketball team has seemed to utterly disappear after the game versus Iowa. She sustained a life-threatening injury, involving three cracked ribs and a punctured lung. She has not shown up to a game or practice since leaving the hospital. what happened to Uconn’s star player?

your eyes scan lazily over the article, the television in the background playing a Uconn game. it’s been months. you are cleared to play again. you know you should. but you just can’t bring yourself to touch a ball again. not after the game, the game where you couldn’t breathe, where the pressure on your chest built throughout the game until it felt like your lungs were going to cave in. it was unbearable. you sigh, half-heartedly turning your attention back to the game displayed on your television. your eyes follow #5 as she darts around the court, effortlessly landing threes, diving for loose balls and yelling out commands to her teammates. paige. she was everything to you before the accident, she was there, she never left your side until you pushed her away. until you could literally hear her heart shatter like porcelain as you hissed at her from your hospital bed, machines beeping over your low, untrue words you wish you could now take back.

the game ends a whopping 92-43, Uconn. paige walks off the court, a shit-eating grin plastered on her face. she slaps nika on the back, wrapping her arms around her.

“you played great!” she says, pulling back from the hug and smiling broadly. “we have media, though, after this.” paige drones on, smiling widely and yapping to nika about a play she made.

“yeah, yeah,” nika says, shoving paige’s shoulder gently. “go say that to the cameras. look, look, they’re calling your name.” she says sarcastically, pushing the blonde to the chairs where the cameras were directed at.

paige couldn’t help but roll her eyes, stumbling over to the chairs where the interviews would take place. she continues talking to anybody she can, her energy high from the game. when the cameras turn on, she falls silent. azzi slumps into the chair beside her, smiling and looking at the person behind the large camera.

“how was your team affected by the loss of number 12, y/n l/n?”

paige’s smile falters immediately. azzi glances almost nervously between paige and the camera, and then proceeds to answer the question confidently, intertwining her fingers with paige’s under the table.

“she was a great player. she was a main part of the team and she was our personal hype man,” azzi says with a sympathetic smile. “she brought the heat to the court, locking people down with her defense. she was great. i really hope she comes back.”

all of this was a blur to paige, the words going in one ear and coming out the other. none of it made sense. her eyes were unfocused, the rest of the interview a blur to her. she answered with half-hearted, short answers to the unsatisfied interviewer.

the whole night of celebrating and drinks was a way for paige to escape her racing thoughts. she threw back shots, one after another, drowning her shattered heart in alcohol. soon after, all the wasted and drunk Uconn players fled to kk’s apartment, laughing and whooping about the win.

it was unusual for paige to be a quiet person while drunk, but that’s what happened tonight. she was slumped on a bed, watching her teammates fool around while she sat in her own sorrow. she couldn’t stop her racing mind from spitting out thoughts at her.

was it me?

was it something i did?

it couldn’t be. i was with her the whole time. right?

..right?

you stare at the television, jaw agape. the beat of silence after the question only secures your unease. you watch her happy expression turn into one of discomfort, but guilt and hurt hidden deep within. you heart aches, watching her shift on her seat.

your eyes land on your abandoned basketball shoes tossed into the corner of your closet, along with the signature uconn basketball and your playing shirt.

before you even know what you’re doing, you grab the shoes, toss your hair into a lazy ponytail, tuck the basketball under your arm and somehow end up into your car all under 10 minutes.

you didn’t know if you even had access to the Uconn gym anymore, having not been there in months. its worth a shot, you tell yourself as you park in the lot.

you walk into the gym, the smell of basketballs hitting you like a punch to the face. the gym is empty, the lights shining brightly down on the wood floors. you stand at the door, taking in the place you used to love so much. the place where you met paige. the place where you fell in love.

it now held sorrow from all the previous injuries the team has faced. the torn acls, the broken arms, the broken noses.

you dribble the ball tentatively, discarding your jacket on the floor somewhere, a sudden overwhelming feeling of courage and confidence.

the confidence to fix what you broke.

that confidence immediately fades away as you hear a ball dribbling. but yours was tucked underneath your arm.

thank you for reading!! i think im gonna make a part 2 if this gets traction and people like it!!

[blakeswritingimagines]

I'm So Glad You're Finally Mine

Summary: Meeting your idol at a bar and getting his personal attention.

Warnings: Heavy petting, Public sex. mention of drinking but nobody is drunk, Fingering, Nipple play if you squint and tilt your head, No protection,

Word Count: 4.1k

You had walked into a bar one night when you spotted a few hockey players sitting in a booth nearby. Your stomach fluttered as you recognized one of them as Nico, the player you had always admired from afar even before your brothers joined the Devils. Nico was one of the most talented players in the league, and he was just as gorgeous in person as he was on the ice. You took a few deep breaths to steady yourself before walking over to the booth. As you approached, Nico looked up and your eyes met. Nico's gaze lingered on you for a moment, taking in your beauty and confidence. He gave you a warm smile, showing off his cute smile. "Hey there, can I help you?" His voice was deep and smooth, sending shivers down your spine. He gestured to the empty seat across from him, inviting you to sit down.

You returned Nico's smile, feeling your heart rate increase at his smooth, deep voice. "Sure," you replied, hoping your voice didn't betray your nerves as you took a seat across from him. The other hockey players around the table glanced at you curiously, but Nico's attention remained fixed on you. Nico leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving yours. "So, what brings you here tonight? Looking for some company or just enjoying a drink?" He asked, his tone friendly and non-threatening. His teammates seemed to relax now that Nico was engaging with you, and they went back to their own conversations. Nico's gaze flickered briefly to the others before returning to you, his interest clearly piqued. You glanced at the other players, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement as they returned their focus to their own conversations. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "I was just out for a drink," you replied, your voice coming out a little shakier than you intended knowing your brothers would kill you. "I didn't expect to run into you and your teammates here."

Nico chuckled softly, noticing the way your cheeks flushed slightly under his gaze. "Well, it's not every day I meet such a beautiful woman in a place like this." He said, leaning in closer to you. His dark brown eyes held an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. "Would you like another drink? Or maybe we could get out of here and find somewhere more private to talk?" You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest at his forwardness, his deep brown eyes holding your gaze. "Another drink sounds nice," you replied, trying to keep your voice casual. "And maybe we could talk a bit more before we think about leaving?" Nico nodded, signaling the bartender for another round. "Of course, take your time. I'm happy to chat with you as long as you'd like." He kept his eyes locked onto yours, a small smirk playing on his lips. Once the drinks arrived, he raised his glass in a silent toast before taking a sip. "So tell me, what do you think of our team so far this season?" He asked, genuinely curious about your opinion.

You took a sip of your own drink, the alcohol sending a warm buzz through your body that helped to steady your nerves. "Your team is doing really well," you replied, genuine admiration in your voice. "You guys have a lot of talent and you work well together on the ice. You've definitely been a pleasure to watch." Nico beamed with pride at your compliment, his chest puffing out slightly. "Thanks, that means a lot coming from a fan. We've put in a lot of hard work and it's great to see it paying off." He took another sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving yours. "Speaking of fans… I have to ask, how did you become interested in hockey? And more specifically, in me and my team?" He asked, curiosity etched on his face. You blushed at his question, feeling a little embarrassed to admit that you had been a fan of him for a long time. "Well," you began, trying to find the words. "I've always been into hockey, ever since my brothers started playing. And I became a fan of your team a few years ago because of how talented you all are. As for you, well…" You paused, looking away for a moment before meeting his gaze again. "Let's just say I've been admiring your skill on the ice for a long time."

Nico listened intently, his expression softening as he heard your confession. "That's quite a compliment," he said sincerely. "It's flattering to know someone appreciates the hard work we put into each game." He reached out, placing his hand gently on top of yours where it rested on the table. "But I have to ask, why admire from afar? What stopped you from approaching me sooner?" You felt a jolt of electricity at the feel of his warm hand on yours, your breath catching in your throat. "I guess I was just being shy," you confessed, feeling a bit foolish for not having spoken to him sooner. "And I didn't want to come across as just another fan with a crush." Nico squeezed your hand gently, offering comfort and understanding. "There's nothing wrong with having a crush," he assured you. "In fact, it's pretty normal for people to look up to athletes they admire." He released your hand slowly, only to move his arm along the back of your chair in a show of casual intimacy. "But now that we're talking, I can't help but wonder what else you admire about me besides my skills on the ice."

You felt your heart skip a beat as Nico's arm wrapped around your chair, bringing him fractionally closer to you. You tried to control your trembling voice as you replied, "Well, aside from your talent, I have to admit your good looks haven't gone unnoticed either." Nico chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Is that so?" He teased, leaning in even closer. "I must admit, I don't often hear compliments like that from my fans." He studied your face closely, as though committing every detail to memory. "What else do you admire about me then? My charm? My sense of humor?" You felt yourself get flustered under his intense gaze, your heart fluttering in your chest. "Well, you definitely have those in spades," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "But I think what I admire most is the way you carry yourself on and off the ice. You always seem so sure of yourself and confident, yet you never come across as arrogant or cocky." Nico nodded thoughtfully, appreciating your insight. "Thank you," he said simply, his voice low and sincere. "It's important to me to maintain a balance between confidence and humility." He moved even closer, his breath brushing against your ear as he whispered, "But enough about me. Tell me something, what kind of man interests you outside of the world of sports and celebrities?"

Your breath hitched in your throat as Nico's warm breath tickled your ear, your heart rate increasing at his proximity. You swallowed hard, trying to focus through the haze of attraction that was clouding your thoughts. "Well," you began, your voice trembling slightly, "outside of sports and celebrities, I guess I'm attracted to men who are honest and genuine. Someone who isn't afraid to be themselves and isn't trying to impress me with flashy things or grand gestures." Nico pulled back just enough to lock eyes with you once more, his expression serious but filled with intrigue. "That's refreshing to hear," he admitted. "Too many women are drawn to the superficial aspects of fame and fortune." He shifted in his seat, bringing himself fully upright and facing you directly. "And honestly, there's nothing I value more than honesty and authenticity in relationships." You found yourself hanging onto his every word, captivated by his openness and sincerity. His words mirrored your own feelings about authenticity and honesty, and it made you feel strangely at ease even though you were still a bit nervous in his presence. "I couldn't agree more," you agreed, meeting his gaze steadily. "It's important to me to have a relationship built on trust and genuine connection, not just fleeting infatuation or surface-level attraction."

Nico's smile widened, revealing a dimple in his left cheek. "Then perhaps we could explore that further," he suggested, his tone playful but also inviting. "Tell me, would you be open to getting to know me better, beyond just the athlete persona everyone sees on TV?" Your heart skipped a beat at his suggestion, excitement, and nervousness warring within you. "I would like that," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "It would be nice to get to know the real you, beyond the glare of the spotlight and the rink." Nico's smile grew even wider, his eyes sparkling with interest and anticipation. "Good," he said, reaching over to take your hand once more. "Because I'd like to get to know you too. It seems we have a lot in common already, which is always a promising start."

You felt an electric jolt run through your body at the feel of his warm hand gripping yours, your heart racing with excitement. "I think we do," you agreed, your voice softer now that you were starting to relax into the conversation. "I mean, hockey and honest relationships are two pretty important things to have in common, right?" Nico laughed softly, the sound rich and warm. "Absolutely," he agreed. "Those are two very important things indeed." He gave your hand a gentle squeeze before reluctantly releasing it, leaning back in his chair as if settling in for a longer conversation. "So tell me more about yourself. What makes you tick? What are your passions and dreams?" His gaze remained locked with yours, showing genuine curiosity and engagement. You couldn't help but feel a bit self-conscious under his intense gaze, but you relaxed when you saw the genuine interest in his eyes. "Well," you began, thinking for a moment about how to describe yourself, "I guess I'm pretty passionate about music. I love all kinds of music, but particularly rock and pop." You hesitated for a moment before continuing, not wanting to seem like a typical fangirl. "And I've always dreamed of being a writer, but I never thought I was good enough to actually pursue it as a career."

Nico listened attentively, nodding encouragingly as you spoke. "Music and writing are both incredible forms of creative expression," he remarked approvingly. "It takes a lot of courage to put your heart out there like that, whether it's through song lyrics or storytelling." He leaned forward again, resting his elbows on his knees as he fixed you with an earnest look. "Don't sell yourself short. If writing is truly your passion, then you owe it to yourself to chase that dream, no matter how daunting it may seem." His words were full of conviction and support, making you feel seen and understood in a way few people ever had. "Besides, I bet you have a unique perspective and voice that the world needs to hear." Your heart swelled with an unfamiliar emotion as you listened to Nico's encouraging words, feeling strangely understood and valued in a way you hadn't expected. Your own self-doubts and insecurities seemed to subside as you absorbed his conviction and support. "Thank you," you said softly, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I don't know why, but hearing you say that… it makes me feel like maybe I can actually do it, you know?"

Nico smiled warmly, clearly pleased to have offered some encouragement and hope. "Of course, you can do it," he insisted, his tone firm yet gentle. "If anything, your doubt only serves to prove that you're the type of person who doesn't take success for granted. That's a rare and admirable quality." He paused for a moment, considering his next words carefully. "And besides, life is too short to let fear hold us back from pursuing our dreams." You felt a warm sense of gratitude welling up inside you at his supportive words. No one had ever believed in your dreams as much as he seemed to in this moment. "You're right," you agreed, feeling a new determination stirring within you. "Life is too short, and I don't want to look back on mine with regrets. I want to try and make my dreams come true."

"Exactly," Nico said, his voice filled with enthusiasm and admiration. "The only thing standing between you and your dreams is yourself, really." He looked at you intently, his eyes reflecting a depth of understanding and empathy that touched something deep within you. "And I believe in you, so don't forget that." You felt a lump form in your throat at his fervent words, your breath catching at the intensity in his eyes. Nobody had ever expressed such unshakable faith in you before, and it filled you with a sense of purpose and hope. "Thank you, Nico," you managed to say past the lump in your throat, feeling a surge of emotion welling up in your chest. "I… I don't know what to say. I didn't expect this when I walked into this bar tonight." Nico reached across the table, taking your hand in his once more. The warmth of his touch sent another jolt through you, but this time it was different. It wasn't just physical; it was emotional, too. "I'm glad we met tonight," he said sincerely. "I think there's something special here, and I don't want to let it go."

Your heart rate quickened as you felt the roughness of his calloused hand against yours, the intense look in his eyes making you feel both vulnerable and protected. "Me neither," you admitted quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I feel like… like there could be something really special between us." Nico's thumb brushed gently over the back of your hand, sending shivers down your spine. "I think you might be right," he murmured, his voice low and husky with emotion. He leaned in closer, his face inches from yours. "And I want to explore that, to see where it leads us." You felt your breath quicken as Nico leaned closer, his face so close you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. Your heart was racing, your body thrumming with anticipation. "I want that too," you breathed, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

With a soft groan, Nico closed the remaining distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was both tender and hungry. His hands slid up your arms to cup your face, holding you close as he explored the depths of your mouth with his tongue. The taste of him, the feel of his strong body pressed against yours, was intoxicating, making you ache for more. As the kiss deepened, Nico pulled you onto his lap, wrapping his arms around you tightly. You could feel his hardness pressing against you, a potent reminder of the desire that burned between you. Breaking the kiss, Nico gazed into your eyes, his own dark with lust and emotion. "I need you," he whispered urgently, his hands roaming over your curves. "Let me show you how much." You gasped softly as Nico pulled you onto his lap, the hard length of his arousal pressing insistently against your thigh. The heat of his touch seared through your clothes, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume everything in its path.

"Yes," you moaned, arching into his caresses as his hands roamed over your body. "Please, show me." In a haze of desire, you tangled your fingers in Nico's hair, pulling him back into a fierce, needy kiss. His tongue delved into your mouth, stroking and teasing until you were panting and aching for more. Breaking apart, you nipped at his lower lip before trailing hot kisses along his jawline and down the column of his neck. "Touch me," you begged, grinding your hips against his erection. "Make me feel every inch of you." With a growl of approval, Nico obliged, his hands sliding beneath your shirt to grasp at your flesh. His thumbs grazed over your nipples, coaxing them into hard peaks that ached for more attention. "Like this?" he murmured against your skin, nibbling at the sensitive spot below your ear. The sensation of his teeth and tongue combined with the pressure of his hands was driving you wild, your body responding eagerly to his touch. You could hardly breathe, your senses overwhelmed by the scent of his cologne, the taste of his lips, the feel of his muscular body under your fingertips. "Tell me what else you want," he urged, his voice thick with desire. "I want to please you, to make you scream my name."

With his strong arms wrapped firmly around you, Nico rose smoothly to his feet, carrying you effortlessly as if you weighed nothing. His pace was determined, his steps sure as if he'd done this countless times before. The world seemed to blur around you, the loud music and laughter of the bar fading away until all you could focus on was the solid warmth of Nico's body against yours. He guided you towards the restrooms, his grip on you unyielding as he held you up against the stall door. The bathroom was dimly lit, the door closed to provide privacy, the air heavy with expectation and unspoken promises. His expression was a mix of raw hunger and tenderness. "This is better," he murmured, closing the gap between you again to claim your lips in a searing kiss. The coolness of the stall door pressed against your back, a stark contrast to the scorching heat of Nico's body as he pinned you there with his hips. You could feel every hard plane and angle of him, his strength coiled and ready to unleash upon you. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you drew him even closer, desperate to feel him everywhere.

"Better," you echoed breathlessly against his lips, your fingers digging into his shoulders. "Now shut up and fuck me already." The crude demand fell from your lips before you could stop it, fueled by the sheer desperation coursing through your veins. You needed him inside you, stretching you, filling you, claiming you completely. Anything less would not suffice. Not now. Not after tasting paradise in his arms. A low growl rumbled in Nico's chest at your bold command, his dark eyes flashing with primal desire. "As you wish," he muttered, reaching down to roughly yank open your jeans. His hands were shaking slightly, the anticipation getting the best of him. But he refused to rush this, refused to give you anything less than his very best. He wanted to remember this moment, the first time he took you, for the rest of his life. You gasped as Nico's fingers found their way past your underwear, his calloused digits brushing against your slick folds. "Oh god," you whimpered, your head falling back against the cold metal of the stall door.

The contrast between the chill and the heat of Nico's hand was almost too much to bear. "Please," you begged, rocking your hips forward in desperate need. "I can't wait anymore." With a swift motion, Nico tore your panties aside, exposing you fully to his greedy gaze. He didn't waste a second, plunging two fingers deep inside you without a preamble. A strangled cry escaped your lips as he began to pump, his strokes fast and relentless. "That's it," he panted, his eyes locked on yours. "Take it. You're mine now." The sight of you spread open and pleading for him was enough to send Nico over the edge. He added another finger, curling them to stroke that sweet spot inside you that had your whole body quivering. "So tight," he groaned, watching your breasts bounce with each thrust of his hand. He leaned forward, taking a nipple between his lips, sucking hard while his fingers worked you mercilessly. "Come for me," he demanded, biting down lightly on your sensitive bud. "Show me just how much you want it."

The dual assault on your clit and nipple sent you spiraling into oblivion, your entire being focused solely on the pleasure coursing through your veins. Your walls clenched around Nico's fingers, milking them for more as waves of orgasm crashed over you. "Fuck!" you screamed, your voice echoing off the tiled walls. "Nico! I'm cumming!" Your climax hit like a freight train, ripping through you with such force that you saw stars behind your eyelids. Your body convulsed in his hold, your inner walls fluttering and gripping desperately at his fingers. The feeling of your pussy clenching around his fingers was nearly enough to undo Nico right then and there. But he wasn't finished with you yet. He kept pumping, drawing out every last tremor of your orgasm before slowly withdrawing his fingers. Standing upright, he pulled down his own pants, freeing his throbbing cock from its confines. It sprang free, standing proudly at attention, eager to be buried deep inside you. "Ready for this?" he asked, positioning himself at your entrance. Without waiting for an answer, he pushed inside, breaching your still-quivering walls with one powerful thrust.

The sensation of Nico pushing inside you was overwhelming, the fullness stretching you in ways you hadn't thought possible. "Yes," you moaned, arching your back to meet him halfway. Your inner walls clenched around him, trying to adjust to his size. "God yes, don't stop." Each word was punctuated by a gasp of pleasure as Nico set a brutal pace, pounding into you with no mercy. Every thrust drove him deeper, filling you completely until you felt like you were bursting at the seams. You could feel yourself tightening around him again, another orgasm building quickly on the heels of the first. Nico gripped your hips tightly, holding you steady as he drove into you with wild abandon. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the small space, mingling with your cries of ecstasy. He could feel your walls starting to flutter around him once more, signaling your impending release. "That's it," he grunted, his own climax rapidly approaching. "Cum for me again. Milk my cock dry." With a final, deep thrust, Nico buried himself to the hilt inside you. His cock pulsed, spilling hot jets of semen directly against your cervix as he rode out his orgasm. The intensity of it stole his breath, leaving him panting heavily against your neck.

The feeling of Nico's warm seed flooding your womb sent you careening over the edge once more. Your climax ripped through you like a tidal wave, crashing over you with such force that you saw stars behind your closed lids. Your body shook violently, your inner walls clamping down on Nico's cock in a vice-like grip. "Nico!" you cried out, your voice hoarse from screaming his name. Your orgasm seemed to go on forever, lasting longer and stronger than anything you'd ever experienced before. The sensation of your pussy squeezing him so tightly was almost enough to make Nico see stars. He rode out your orgasm, prolonging the pleasure by grinding his hips against yours, ensuring every last drop of his cum coated your insides. As the aftershocks subsided, he gradually slowed his movements, finally pulling out of you with a reluctant groan. He collapsed against you, both of you drenched in sweat and panting heavily. "Holy shit," he breathed, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "You okay?"

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. "Yeah," you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Just…wow." You couldn't believe what had just happened. The intensity of your orgasms, the sheer size of Nico's cock, the way he'd dominated you in that stall…it was all too much to process. But as you stood there, wrapped in Nico's strong arms, you knew one thing for certain - you never wanted this night to end. "Can we do that again?" you asked, looking up at him with hooded eyes. "Somewhere a little more comfortable this time?" Nico chuckled, nuzzling your neck affectionately. "As many times as you want, sweetheart," he promised, his voice low and husky with lingering desire. "But first, let's get cleaned up and find somewhere a bit more private, yeah?" He helped guide you out of the stall, making sure you were steady on your feet before leading you towards the sinks. Once washed and dried, he took your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. "My place isn't far," he said, giving your hand a squeeze. "We can grab a drink, relax a bit, and then…" He trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air between you. "Lead the way, Captain," you teased, playfully tugging him along.

[girlgenius1111]

pop back up

barca femeni x reader

r gets hurt during a game, and her friends make sure she’s okay :)

You were something of a set piece machine. The girls joked that you had a magic head, no matter how much you told them that that compliment sounded like something very different. You had an incomparable ability to get your head under the ball, leaping high into the air above girls taller than you. If you got your head on the ball, the odds were that it was hitting the back of the net.

So, while you were often a target for corners from your team, other teams had started to catch on, and marked you pretty heavily. It was early in the second half when you found yourselves lining up in front of the opposing goal. You were sandwiched in between two opposing players, but you were confident you could get free as Pina made eye contact with you, raising her arm before moving forward.

As the ball sailed toward you, you doubled back around the defenders, launching yourself into the air. Your head made contact with the ball at the same time as one of the defenders made contact with your whole body, sending you hurtling back down toward the ground. You threw your arm out, quite stupidly, to catch your weight, which promptly crumpled.

You heard the cheer of the crowd as the ball went in, but all you could think about was the intense pain coming from your elbow as you rolled onto your opposite side, clutching your arm tightly. It had made a horrifying sound, which most of the girls around you had heard, and no one moved to celebrate the goal, all looking at you in horror. Ingrid was the first to your side, resting a hand on your head.

"Y/n?" She asked quietly, as you'd yet to make a sound.

"Ow," you mumbled, voice thick with tears. You never cried. Not when you got hurt, not when you got knocked down so hard everyone was sure you were hurt; you always popped back up, shaking it off in the way only someone so young could.

"Medics!" Ingrid shouted, waving at the sidelines. If you were crying, she didn't want to think about how bad this was. "Okay, don't move, they're coming," she said, and you nodded pitifully into the grass, body twitching in pain. You sensed another body kneel down by your head, and Lucy's voice was filling the silence on the field.

"How bad is it, buddy?" she asked, desperate for more information, unable to wait for the medics, who were now only a few steps away. You only groaned in response, and Lucy's face fell. She looked up at Keira, panicked, before her and Ingrid were pushed aside as the medics arrived. One of them was kneeling by your head, speaking into your ear.

As Lucy and Ingrid stepped back, flanked on either side by the rest of your teammates, they were relieved to see that you were responding the the medics. Confident that you were in good hands, Lucy turned to the girl that had knocked you down, hands clenched into fists. Before she could even take a step, an arm wrapped around her abdomen, and someone else blocked her path.

"Let me go," she said, tone threatening. Lucy was rarely this serious, and never spoke this severely, but Patri stayed planted in front of her, not moving. Mariona's arm only tightened around Lucy's waist, and Lucy sighed impatiently.

"No, we don't need you getting a card," Patri told her, meeting Lucy's harsh glare with one of her own. Lucy had to admit, Patri was picking up a mean stare quite well from Alexia.

Lucy opened her mouth to argue more, when she heard a cry of pain from behind her. She whipped around, and saw you on your back now, still cradling your arm to your chest, in obvious distress. Shrugging out from in between her teammates, she walked over to you, crouching down on the side by your head, where there was room. You looked up at her, eyes big and wet, and all thoughts of revenge left Lucy's head.

"You're okay, buddy, I promise," she said. You were trying to raise your head to look at your arm, which she didn't think was a very good idea. Your elbow was clearly dislocated, sitting at an odd angle. She knew the sight of it would only panic you; the medics were getting an air wrap ready to place around it, and it would be out of sight soon. Wanting to prepare you for the movement, Lucy tapped your cheek lightly, drawing your attention back to her. "They're gonna get you wrapped up, and then we'll get you off the field, okay?"

"No, I wanna finish the game," you said weakly. If you hadn't looked so serious, Lucy would have laughed. Here you were, arm practically hanging off your body, and you wanted to finish playing.

"No can do, kid. We gotta get you fixed up," she said, and you pouted, clearly not happy with that answer. One of the medics spoke then, explaining that he would need to touch your arm in order to get is wrapped.

"Can't I just walk off without that?" you asked, looking terrified, and slightly nauseous at the idea of someone touching your arm.

The medic shook his head regretfully. "No, we don't want to risk you moving it, we need to keep it immobile until we know what's going on in there."

You sighed, blinking a few tears away, before your eyes flickered to Lucy, as if hoping she would overrule the medical professionals.

"It'll be over fast, y/n, I promise," she said instead. You nodded shakily, and Lucy smiled down at you. Carefully releasing your injured arm, you moved your good arm away, with a clear flinch of pain. Lucy placed both hands on your head, holding it in place on the ground, so you wouldn't look, knowing it would probably hurt worse if you saw what they were doing.

The medics moved closer, and you were wishing someone was holding your hand, but both of Lucy's were occupied. As if reading your mind, Keira's face appeared next to Lucy's, and you felt her take your good hand into both of hers. You smiled gratefully at her, before giving the medics the go ahead.

They worked fast, and Lucy and Keira flinched every time you did, at every whimper and cry that left your lips as they manipulated the airwrap around your arm. By the time they were done, you were crying again, but silently.

"You did it," Lucy said proudly, and you at least had the energy to roll your eyes at her. "Let's get you up, okay?"

"Unless you want a stretcher?" one of the medics asked, and you gave him a withering glare.

"I wouldn't want a stretcher if I had lost a leg," you snapped, and everyone hid smiles at the sudden return of your personality. Keira and Lucy got you up off the ground. Everyone should have felt better, seeing you on your feet, but no one on the team missed the way your teeth was gritted in pain, and the way the color drained from your face when you moved your arm slightly, taking a step.

"We'll be back as soon as the game is over," Keira told you and you didn't seem to hear her as you focused on walking unsteadily off the pitch, supported on each side by one of the medics.

Every step you took sent shock waves of pain up your arm. You tried moving your fingers as you got closer to the tunnel, just to make sure they still worked, but even a slight twitch had you groaning in pain.

"No, keep everything still," they told you, leading you down the hall. You didn't notice Mapi slip away from the bench, having come off at the half, and following you, nor did you notice them closing the door before she could enter, telling her they needed scans, and no one else could be in the room yet. Everyone was moving fast around you, paying attention to your arm, rather than you, and you felt yourself quickly getting overwhelmed.

-----

The minute that Ingrid had motioned for the medics, Alexia was moving from her spot in the bleachers, expertly navigating the stadium, quickly going to find you. She knew that if you needed medics, it was bad. She'd seen you break a nose, and try to shrug off the medics, so whatever this was, was worse.

She walked down the hall, spotting Mapi pacing next to a door. Mapi, who was looking at the door you were behind with distinct irritation. As she got closer, Mapi turned to look at her, and Alexia raised her eyebrows in question.

"They won't let me in. Something about scans, and needing to get a grasp of the injury before anyone could see her. She'd just a kid, she shouldn't be alone," Mapi ranted, and Alexia was quick to match her level of irritation. You hated doctors, you hated being hurt, and you were likely surrounded by people more focused on your injury than you. Both girls stood quietly, trying to decide how to get into the room, when the door opened in front of them.

"Oh good, you're still here," one of the medics said. "Can you come calm her down, she's kind of freaking out and we need to get the scan done, but she won't let us touch her arm, or give her any medication," he stated, looking annoyed.

Alexia and Mapi were, somewhat unnecessarily, shoving past him before he even finished talking, and entering the room. You were reclined on the exam table, tears streaming down your face, arm once again cradled to your chest, as about 5 medics talked at you at the same time. One of them was holding a needle that he clearly wanted to put in your arm. Mapi was ready to drag everyone out of the room by their shirts, and maybe stab the one guy with his own needle, but Alexia went for a more diplomatic solution.

"Everyone get out," she shouted, and the commotion in the room stopped, every person looking at her in shock. "I said get out, you can come back in when she's calmed down." Alexia's face was filled with fury at how bad of a job they were doing taking care of you, and everyone must have figured that out, as they quickly moved towards the door, stepping into the hall. When it was just the three of you, Alexia stepped closer to your right side, while Mapi went to the sink, wetting a towel.

"I'm sorry," you cried. You were just so overwhelmed, in so much pain, and so unsure of what was going on, you didn't want to let anyone touch your arm, until someone told you exactly what they were going to do.

"No, no," Alexia said soothingly, moving closer, "they are not taking very good care of you, you are obviously overwhelmed. Let's just calm down first, yeah?" Gone was the voice of Captain Alexia that had shouted at all of the medics in the room, replaced by Alexia who was speaking so softly, so gently, completely concerned with getting you to stop crying.

Mapi moved to your left side, the side of your injured arm, with a damp towel, and you whimpered, trying to shift away from her.

"Cariño, I'm just gonna wipe the grass off your face, I won't touch your arm, I promise," Mapi said calmly, and you relaxed slightly, nodding once. Carefully she wiped the grass stains, and the tear tracks, off your face, not minding that more were replacing the one's she wiped away. Your eyes fluttered shut at her actions, finally feeling like someone was taking care of you. When she was done, she tossed the small towel into the laundry, before focusing back on you.

You were still crying softly, still clutching your arm to your chest, and they weren't really sure how to get you to relax. You seemed to be in a lot of pain, so Alexia decided step one was getting some meds into you.

"Bebita, you look like you're hurting. Can we get you some meds?" You shrugged, not really sure that you wanted meds, or that you didn't.

"Why don't you want them?" Mapi asked, and you looked over at her.

"It'll make me all loopy, and I won't know what they're doing, and they won't even tell me what's wrong," you said, voice choked. Both girls looked at you, slightly confused.

"They haven't told you what they think is wrong?" Alexia questioned, and you shook your head. She sighed. "We'll make sure they tell you when they come back in, and we won't leave you alone again, alright?" she asked, but you still seemed unsure.

"I promise, we won't let them touch you again until you're ready," Mapi vowed. "Let's just get you some medicine, and then go from there, okay?" At this, you finally agreed, although somewhat hesitantly. Alexia left to get the medics, but it took significantly longer than you expected, leading you to believe she was perhaps yelling at them out there.

Meanwhile, Mapi pulled your boots and shin guards off, slowly as not to jostle you, pretending she wasn't trying to listen in to the conversation being had in the hallway. If she wasn't so reluctant to leave you, she would be out there too, yelling much less professionally than Alexia likely was. She was about to make a joke about it, when she glanced up and saw you staring at the ceiling, biting your lip hard.

"Hey, what is it pequeña?" She asked, walking back to stand next to you.

"It really hurts, Mapi," you whimpered, and Mapi had to swallow back the lump in her throat at the pain in your voice.

"I know, cariño, we're gonna get you something to feel better soon," she told you, as Alexia reentered the room with only two medics, who looked like they had, indeed, just been yelled at. Alexia looked expectantly at them, taking a place by your side, standing rather protectively over you.

"Alright, y/n, we're gonna give you some painkillers, and get some scans done," the one on the right said, more gently than he'd been speaking to you before. You nodded meekly, looking up at Alexia who gave you an encouraging smile.

"If we could just have you both step out for... never mind," he said, seeming to change his mind when Mapi and Alexia's head both snapped to glare at him.

You focused on your friends for the next few minutes, as the shot of painkillers was administered. It dulled the pain slightly, but not all the way. You mentioned this quietly to your friends, who turned expectantly to the medics. They, in turn, told you that they couldn't give you any more. You nodded, while Mapi and Alexia continued to glare. The medics wouldn't allow the older girls to come with you for the x-ray, though, much to their dismay.

They waited in the room, while you let the medics manipulate your arm every which way to get the correct scan, trying to hold back your gasps of pain. You needed to be brave, needed to get this done so you could go back to your friends.

By the time they walked you back to the room you were in before, your face was once again red from crying, and your lip was bleeding from where you'd bitten it, hard, during the scan. You ignored the concerned looks that Mapi and Alexia shot you as you carefully sat back on the table.

You settled back, moving your arm to rest next to you, finally letting it go from your chest. Every movement felt like your elbow was being torn off your body, and as the medics left again, you looked helplessly up at your friends. Alexia brushed some loose hair out of your face, before speaking.

"What can we do, cariño?" she asked. You just shrugged your good shoulder, leaning almost imperceptibly towards your captain. She got the message, though, gently pulling your head to press against her stomach, as she carded her fingers through your hair. You relaxed at her touch, and Mapi busied herself with resting a hand on your lower leg, the only part of you she could reach from where she was standing.

You stayed like that, limply resting again the blonde woman, until the medics returned. You looked at them as they walked in, not liking what you saw. They looked apologetic, and you were suddenly sure they didn't have good news.

"So, it's definitely dislocated," the taller one started, "but we don't think we can get it back in. Sometimes, when the joint is comes out of the socket in the right way, you can only get it back in surgically, and it's looking like that is the case here," you groaned, throwing your head back against the table in frustration.

"What's the recovery like?" Alexia asked for you, and the medics exchanged looks.

"It really depends on what they find when they get in there, but it's not a leg injury, so once it doesn't need to be perfect before she gets back on the pitch."

"When do I have to go?" you asked, dreading the answer.

"We've got an ambulance waiting outside," the shorter one said and you looked up at your friends in a panic.

"It's alright, we'll come with you, and Lucy and Keira will meet us there, alright?" Mapi said, trying to calm you down.

"Can't we wait until the end of the game?" you pleaded, looking between the blonde and the brunette. One of the medics spoke instead.

"We really can't, it's best we get you to the hospital and into surgery as soon as possible."

"There's still like 20 minutes left of the game, plus extra time. I promise, the two of them will meet us at the hospital as soon as possible, okay?" Alexia said, resting her hand on your forehead.

Everyone started moving, Mapi slipping slides onto your feet that you hadn't noticed her grab, and Alexia helping you sit up.

"Can one of you get my phone? I should call Leah," you said quietly. Mapi nodded, rushing to the locker room and grabbing it for you. Her and Alexia both knew how close you and Leah were; you didn't have a good relationship, any relationship really, with your parents, and you'd spent your last year in England living with Leah instead of them. Alexia had been slyly texting Leah updates, but knew that talking to her would calm you down.

You made your way, slowly, to the ambulance, climbing into the back and sitting on the bed begrudgingly. This felt a little ridiculous, you had a dislocated elbow, not a major head injury. Alexia sat in the back with you, as did one of the paramedics. Mapi joined you just before the other paramedic closed the doors, handing you your phone.

You opened it quickly, struggling slightly to hold it with your one shaking hand, as the vehicle started to move. You hit Leah's contact, knowing she would not be thrilled to hear that you needed surgery, especially whilst she was in another country, and couldn't come help take care of you.

You waited as it rang, and she answered the phone rather quickly, voice panicked on the other end.

"Y/n! How are you, buddy? Tell me you don't need surgery," Leah said, and you couldn't help the fit of laughter you broke into. You leaned back, getting more comfortable, as you began to tell Leah what was going on. Mapi and Alexia took in the way you relaxed at the sound of Leah's voice, more calm than they'd seen you since you'd gone down, and both wondering if they could keep Leah on the phone until you went back for surgery.

Alexia looked down as her phone rang in her lap, and Mapi did the same, her own phone buzzing. Lucy was calling Alexia and Keira was calling Mapi, almost simultaneously. They'd clearly finished the game, and discovered that you were gone. They both sighed, Alexia texting both girls instead of answering the calls, not wanting to disrupt your call with Leah.

They made eye contact, aware that they were about to be fielding phone calls from just about all of your England teammates, who'd somehow ended up with Alexia's number, [she blamed Lucy]. They found that they didn't care, not if it meant that you were well taken care of. As the ambulance rumbled towards the hospital, and you spoke quietly to Leah, Mapi and Alexia settled in for a long night by your side.

------

god i could not figure out how to end that. definitely will be a part 2 for this one :) [part 3...? did the other one count as part 2?? i think so...]

[grasshopperdoingdogpaddle]

Until I read your Jermaine analysis I never noticed that the scene where he baits the bullies and the scene where he baits Jack are parallels! Good catch!

Yep, Jermaine's pretty unique in that he's the only character who's go-to strategy is to draw aggro.

He's not the only character who resorts to it as a tactical maneuver, but he's the only character whose immediate first thought is to use to it. He's surprisingly good at getting on people's nerves and knowing how to tick them off. Like riling a bull, or prodding a bear.

You against us three? I like them odds!

How you like 'em now?

Jermaine? You just bought a butt-whupping for both you and shortie!

Don't bark if you can't bite!

-

But... I do not know how to play this game of baskets and balls.

I do. Put me in the game.

No! No way! I challenged you, Omi! Not this kid!

Aw, you afraid of getting whupped, lil' boy?

(Those adorable smirks on Omi and Jermaine's faces! I love them so much!)

Taunt the foes to rile them up and make them so angry they're reckless enough to practically forget their original target.

Having them seeing red so they make easily exploitable tactical mistakes. (Like switching a Basketball challenge against one kid who doesn't know the game at all, two a two-on-two challenge featuring another kid who has good synergy with the first and clearly knows the game better than you both. Or having all three members of your little gang grab Jermaine and hold him still, theoretically leaving the kid you were originally threatening plenty of space to run away unimpeded.)

As a side note, it makes Jermaine a really good battle partner for characters like Omi or Chase. His strategy of getting opponents to funnel vision and attack him syncs up best with a partner who's quick and agile enough to intercept those and whose tactics are counter-based or combo-oriented.

Especially since Jermaine isn't actually tanky, despite being willing to take the hits for others. So an aggressive counter-based fighter who will readily jump in to protect him is pretty necessary. Jermaine's clever with stall tactics, and he's agile and good at controlling the flow of a fight so he can dodge for quite a while.

But back when Jermaine was sort of fighting on his own, it only managed to stall it out until he eventually gets wailed on at the end.

Mixing the two into a bait-control-counter strategy is great for dictating the pace and distance of a fight by utilizing defensive maneuvers to avoid attacks, then capitalizing on their opponent's openings with precise counter strikes, essentially controlling the fight by responding effectively to their aggression rather than initiating heavy offense.

The fact that Jermaine is also one of the few characters who wouldn't care in the slightest if the spotlight or glory is "stolen" from him also helps this strategy work, since he syncs up tactically with characters who really want to look good in battle. Jermaine's cockiness is entirely for show. He's genuinely confident, just not actually as smug as he plays up for his opponents.

He and Chase probably went on some "fake" missions or field training that demonstrated the synergy of those strategies to Jermaine. (And one day I will write it. One day.)

I got your back!

And all the more reason Jermaine was so excited to readily take a support role. He's a team player, and he's happy to play support or draw aggro for someone as long as he fully trusts them to be powerful enough and reliable enough to have his back when it gets too hot for him to handle, but he'll also readily switch that up if that's what the moment-to-moment situation needs.

[onas-batlle]

Secret Moments In a Crowded Room (p. 1 of 5)

pairing: lucy bronze x ona batlle

warnings: excessive comma use, bad writing, and unresolved sexual tension

synopsis: four times Lucy and Ona almost kiss, and the one time they do.

a/n: currently editing part 2, so figured i’d post this so everyone is up to date lol ❤️

Ao3 Link

———

She was intoxicating. That was the only word that Lucy could use to describe the woman who was grinning up at her in that moment, cheeks dimpling and caramel eyes sparkling in the low lights.

This new predicament had only been brought about mere hours ago, Ona catching the eye of the English defender as she stood up as a bridesmaid next to Lucy Staniforth at the altar. It had just been a visual sweep of the crowd, Lucy simply trying to gauge who was there and who would be willing to mope around with her and her litre of beer. She had only recently gone through a breakup, and now had to attend a ceremony that celebrated someone else’s success in what she had just failed at, so drowning herself in alcohol seemed like the fair thing to do.

So, she wasn’t expecting for her eye to catch onto a certain woman as she ran her eyes over the Manchester United players seated in the crowd. There was just something about her that instantly stole the breath away from Lucy’s lungs, not just her physical beauty, with her sprinkles of freckles and perfectly curved nose, but an unidentifiable trait that seemed to encompass her entire being and had Lucy desperately wanting to gravitate in her direction.

She knew who Ona was, of course. She wasn’t that ignorant. They had sparred on the pitch multiple times for club and country despite them both being right-backs for their respective teams, and the young Spaniard was an incredibly talented player which had not gone unnoticed by Lucy.

But she felt as though she hadn’t truly seen her until that moment.

She supposed that it wasn’t a bad thing to have not discovered her attraction to the Spaniard sooner; she had been in a relationship until a mere month or two ago and Lucy was no cheater, but a small traitorous part of her longed to have been exposed to this captivating woman much sooner than she had.

As she wracked her brain for memories of any previous encounters with Ona outside of play, she came up mostly blank, save for a brief moment when the Manchester United player had offered her congratulations after City won the derby, with Lucy responding to the compliment with a distracted smile and a brief pat on the shoulder. There were no proper interactions after that, which she supposed was only through the fault of her own. It was a two-way street after all.

As she continued to observe the Spanish woman who was wiping her tears at the beautiful words being spoken up at the altar, she noticed Alessia and Ella looking in her direction and wiggling their eyebrows at her. The little shits.

Unable to flip them the bird-like she desperately wanted to, she settled on simply narrowing her eyes at them, and was mildly horrified when they smirked at her before nudging Ona in the side and whispering something in her ear.

She could only watch on as the Spaniard turned her gaze to Lucy and met her eyes, directing an awkwardly soft smile in her direction. In a sudden burst of confidence, Lucy sent back a cheeky wink, and her smile widened at the bright flush that spread over Ona’s cheeks.

They continued to look at each other for a few subsequent minutes until Jordan pinched Lucy’s elbow and darted her eyes in the direction of the brides who were about to say their vows. Lucy refocused her attention back on her close friend, but the thought of the Spanish woman still lingered in her mind.

The rest of the ceremony passed rather quickly, and several times Lucy had to blink away tears that threatened to spill. The Lucys had been friends since childhood, and to see her best mate so irrevocably happy in that moment caused Lucy’s heart to swell fondly. She too wanted that very happiness for herself. Once the brides had finally kissed to symbolise their official union and made their way out of the church, everyone else followed to go to the reception.

Lucy immediately made a beeline for the bar, Jordan in tow, and ordered a shot of tequila which she promptly downed. The little bit of liquor in her system was enough for her to relax a bit, slumping a little on the stool that she was perched on.

“Someone catch your eye during the ceremony, huh?” came Jordan’s teasing lilt, her matching grin spread across her face.

“Dunno what you’re talking about,” Lucy replied, cheeks reddening at the thought of being caught, and she cleared her throat awkwardly before taking a sip of her drink.

Jordan let out a knowing hum, and Lucy could see her friend debating whether or not to call her out on her lie. Jordan’s nosiness eventually won out, and she fixed Lucy with a glare.

“Go on, spill. I saw you making eyes at Ona Batlle, and in my honest opinion, that’s pretty healthy. I mean Keira has already moved on, why shouldn’t you?”

She said the last part in a low voice, but Lucy still winced at the mention of her ex-girlfriend’s new romance. Keira and Lucy had finished amicably, the both of them deciding that they just simply didn’t fit into each other’s lives like that anymore, but Lucy still found herself nursing the hurt of seven years going down the drain.

“I, uh, I feel like it’s too soon for me, you know? I’ll admit that I’m attracted to her, sure, but it’s just gonna stay like that. A harmless attraction. That will fade.”

Jordan raised an eyebrow at that. “Seems like you’re trying to convince yourself more than me.”

“No. Yes. Maybe. I don’t know.” Lucy let out a sigh and cradled her head in her hands. God, being single was stressful.

“You know they say that the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else,” Jordan spoke, raising her eyebrows in a suggestive manner at her friend, causing Lucy to groan in disgust.

“I’m over Keira, okay, and that saying is fucked. Plus, I don’t even know if she is into women,” she hissed, throwing a sharp look at the woman seated next to her.

“Who don’t we know is into women?”

Lucy flushed bright red as the bride they were there for approached them, slinging an arm around each of their shoulders. Lucy Stan looked down at Lucy’s embarrassed face and shot a questioning look at Jordan, whose shoulders were shaking in a bout of silent laughter.

“Ona.”

“No on-, Jordan!”

For what felt like the hundredth time tonight, Lucy felt like strangling one of her England teammates, and she flicked her friend’s forehead in annoyance.

Jordan just batted her hand away and grinned at Lucy Stan, who had been watching the exchange with amusement. “What? She needs to know.”

“Know what?” the bride asked, although Lucy had a sneaking suspicion that she had already put the pieces together. Save for lunging over and slapping a hand over Jordan’s mouth, there was nothing Lucy could really do to stop her from spilling the beans. Shit secret keeper the former Arsenal player was.

“That Lucy here, was borderline eyefucking Ona during your ceremony.”

Lucy let her head fall into her hands again at those words and tried to half-heartedly protest her innocence.

“That’s not true!”

“Is too,” came the counter, and the woman between Jordan and Lucy let out a loud laugh before turning to glance in Ona’s direction across the room. Lucy wanted to fall into her drink and drown at the embarrassment of her friends’ ribbing.

“Well, to answer your initial question, Ona is very gay, and very into tall, muscular footballers who play as a right back,” Lucy Stan winked, nudging Lucy a little bit with her shoulder.

That made Lucy look up from her drink.

“What?”

“Don’t tell her I said this, but she’s had the hots for you for a while, Luce. You’re kind of like her celebrity crush.” This revelation sent a wave of flattery over the English fullback, and she couldn’t help but allow a self-satisfied grin to overcome her face.

“Huh,” she pondered, and was about to say something else when Lucy Stan spoke, causing the words to die on her tongue.

“Don’t look now, but she’s coming over.”

Lucy shot a discreet look over her shoulder, and sure enough, Ona was making her way over to the bar, looking searchingly in their direction.

“Impress her with your dancing skills or something,” Jordan said, and with that, her two friends had gone, leaving her alone at the bar to face the Spaniard.

“Hola, Lucy. Fancy seeing you here.”

Ona’s surprisingly deep voice filled Lucy’s ears, and she shot what she hoped was a dazzling grin at the other fullback. Clearly, it worked, because Ona’s cheeks went a bright pink, and she sat down rather heavily on the barstool next to her. Despite Lucy’s initial reluctance to lean into her attraction, something was telling her that maybe it would be worth it.

“Was wondering when I might see you. I’ve been waiting.”

Lucy noted how Ona’s flush deepened at her words, and the older woman determined that perhaps her flirting wasn’t so rusty after all.

“You seemed a little busy,” Ona shrugged, nodding in the direction of Jordan and Lucy Stan, who were both not so subtly watching their exchange. Lucy could also see Alessia and Ella nudging each other in the sides out of the corner of her eye, and she internally rolled her eyes in fondness at her teammates’ meddling antics.

“Never too busy to talk to pretty girls.”

Ona gently smacked her shoulder at that, a zing of electricity shooting down Lucy’s arm at the touch. Lucy watched as the other woman’s nose scrunched as she shyly laughed, the sound lilting and wonderful, and the English woman couldn’t help but match it with a grin of her own.

Maybe she didn’t have to mope around all night, after all.

For the rest of the evening Lucy flitted about the room, talking with various old teammates, tearing up the dancefloor, and drinking perhaps one to seven too many shots of tequila. But despite this, she always found herself gravitating towards Ona’s small figure, the alcohol emboldening her even more as the night went by.

Somehow towards the end of the night, Lucy had found her way onto the dancefloor yet again, but this time, instead of losing herself in the music alone, she had a beautiful Spaniard dancing dangerously close to her.

She knew that it was way too early to be waxing poetry about someone else’s beauty, especially considering the fact that she had only known Ona for a few hours. But as the indigo lighting flickered across the shorter woman’s face and Lucy took in the way that her body moved rhythmically to the beat, she felt positively euphoric.

“¡Baila conmigo, Lucy!” Ona shouted above the music, and Lucy took the hand that the younger woman had extended to her, immediately twirling her around.

The Spanish woman laughed in jubilance, drawing out a beaming smile from the older woman as she watched Ona twirl round and round on the floor, still gripping onto Lucy’s hand above her head. Growing dizzy, the Spaniard abruptly stopped her spinning and crashed into Lucy’s chest, the former’s hands reaching out to grasp Lucy’s jacket to steady herself.

Once the both of them had calmed down a little from the excitement, they tampered down their dancing a little as the song changed to something slower, Ona not loosening her hold on Lucy’s jacket.

Their faces were frighteningly close now, and Lucy could feel Ona’s warm breath on her lips as they swayed to the music. The air between them was positively electric as the Spaniard’s fingers released the lapel of her jacket and wound around her wrist, thumb delicately stroking the tattoo that adorned Lucy’s skin, and she couldn’t help but suck in a harsh breath at the gentle contact.

Still Ona did not say a word. She simply continued to gaze up at the English woman with a lazy smile on her face and those doe eyes that peered into the very depths of Lucy’s soul.

Her lips suddenly felt very chapped, and the older defender absent-mindedly ran her tongue over them, drawing the attention of those very eyes, which did not go unnoticed by Lucy. Slowly she reached out to brush a stray hair out of Ona’s face, and they both came to a dead halt in the middle of the floor while the people around them continued their movements.

Slowly, as if by some gravitational pull, their lips drew closer together until Lucy could almost taste the liquor on Ona’s lips.

“Lucy! Ona! Come here, I have someone I want you to meet!” came Lucy Stan’s voice, and the spell was broken, both of them pulling back to a respectable distance as they turned their attention to the bride who was waving them over.

Lucy almost let out a sigh, both of relief and frustration, as while she was glad that she hadn’t gone through with an act that would have sent her spiralling, she so desperately wanted to feel the heat of Ona’s mouth pressed against hers. Despite the space that now separated them, Lucy swore the faint brush of Ona’s lips still lingered on her own, and she reached up to touch her tingling mouth briefly as they both headed in Lucy Stan’s direction.

Later, in the wee hours of the morning, Lucy lay awake in her bed (which was unfortunately empty she’ll have you know), her finger hovering over the ‘follow back’ button as the bright blue rectangle glowed almost mockingly at her.

She sighed and rolled over onto her stomach, the sheets crinkling, feeling strangely sober despite the copious amounts of alcohol that had been consumed only a couple of hours before.

Her brain was screaming at her to close the app, roll over, go to sleep, and forget Ona’s pretty eyes, merely to save her already battered heart from any further damage. But clearly, her body had not gotten the memo, and she found herself pressing the button and immediately flinging her phone onto the couch across the room. Out of sight, out of mind.

It was only seconds later that her phone let out a ping and she scrambled over to it, catching her leg in the sheets and letting out a huff as she stumbled and almost fell to the floor. Yanking her limb out of the offending piece of linen, she grasped her phone and fixed her eyes on the new notification. Instead of a DM like she was expecting, it was a text message, and she couldn’t help but let her lips curl into a smirk as she read the words.

Hola, it’s Ona. I got your number from Lucy if that’s alright with you?

It’s definitely alright with me. Was going to ask her myself but I suppose you beat me to it.

Ona’s response was immediate.

Great minds think alike, no?

Noticing the cheesy smile plastered on her face after only two text messages, Lucy forced her features into a neutral expression as she went to type her reply, her heart in her throat. And when Ona responded to her quip with something equally witty, that’s when Lucy knew.

Oh, this woman was going to be dangerous indeed.

[tabulaatlas]

Hsr Voicelines about...

Voicelines from the characters from Honkai: Star Rail about the player/reader. Written as platonic.

Part 4.3: <Xianzhou>

Jing Yuan

About You: We were introduced with not much time, but they appear to be an...exceptional individual. They seem to have a genuine heart, but that has yet to be judged.

Chat-Regard: They remind me of Yanqing. Eager to please and even more eager to learn. Once I rambled on for hours, and they sat patiently and peppered me with questions.

Added to Team: An interesting tactic, but perhaps we should keep it on the low for now.

Parting: If you ever wish to know more, the seat of divine foresight and its records are at your disposal. The doors will be open.

Yanqing

About You: The esteemed guest? The General said to treat them kindly, as if I were approaching them with ill intent. There is absolutely no need for that, and it would reflect badly on the Cloud Knights.

Chat-Regard: Our interests don't match very well. I am good at swordplay and they are great at creation. Vice versa, it's the opposite. But a sword existence needs knowledge and love in equal measure. We'll find a balance one day.

Added to Team: Practice? Of course! Let's see how much you've improved since we last met.

Parting: Next time you're here, let's visit the Artisanship Commission, I must show you my favourite stalls.

Fu Xuan

About You: Of course, as all things should be, I anticipated their arrival. There was nothing threatening about them, so I didn't inform the General about them. In return, he kept a close eye on them. Did I miss something…

Chat-Regard: I once offered to predict their day and their decisions. They had never seen me predict anything before, so I may or may not have taken the chance to make their day a little easier. Nothing big, just a little stress relief.

Added to Team: I will show you the easiest way for your mind to deal with this.

Parting: In the evening I visit the Dragon Lady for a refreshing cup of tea. You should join me.

Jingliu

About You: There have been many like them in the past, in the here and now. There is no need to wonder if there will be people like them in the future.

Chat-Regard: They understand the concept of battle and war, and why it is necessary to fight in them. But they refuse to use their swords and draw blood. Will this lead them to victory? Or their own demise.

Added to Team: Finally drawing your sword ?

Parting: Perhaps next time I will see the real reason for your actions.

Loucha

About You: Their talents are quite intriguing, though they seem unaware of the full extent of their power. Perhaps a lack of creativity?

Chat-Regard: Despite their lack of confidence in their own abilities, they went and protected me in the heat of battle. But I wonder… who needs the protection here?

Added to Team: Don't forget to rest later, perhaps my medical skills can help?

Parting: I'll be around for a while, so don't hesitate to seek me out if you're hurt.

[girl-named-matty]

Imelda headcanons?❤️

Gonna try my best for her 💚

Imelda Reyes headcanons by me!

Time for this feisty Slytherin girl 

Grew up in a family that was huge on quidditch, hence her love for it. 

She’s the most competitive person in school. She completely engulfs Leander or Sebastian’s competitiveness with her own but unlike Sebastian, admitting she’s lost or is wrong is a bit harder to do but she will come to terms with it. 

She has a few close friends but outside of that, she’s not huge on having a big friend group. 

Became Slytherin quidditch captain in her fourth year. 

Her family background could possibly be from Spain or Italy since both the name “Imelda” and “Reyes” names are Spanish/italian names. (this is also suggested in her wiki)

She’s not that big of a troublemaker actually. She did cause more trouble in her earlier years but after Kogawa threatened her by telling her she wouldn’t be able to play in quidditch games after she got in trouble a certain amount of times, she made sure to keep herself out of trouble. 

I feel like she and Anne would’ve been decent friends when Anne was in school. 

She LOVES trash talking but I mean, who doesn’t? (lol) 

She gets jealous pretty easily but she’s good at containing it.

Everett 100% has a crush on this girl. She’s pretty, confident, and has amazing broom skills. 

And she 100% knows he does. 

Her favorite Professor is definitely Madam Kogowa without a doubt but she does like Professor Sharp a lot.

I’d say she’s either a half-blood or a pureblood, most likely a pureblood. 

She has a love-hate relationship with Sebastian. They’re both Slytherins with huge egos and both are very competitive but they do enjoy being around each other. 

Now Imelda and Leander? You’re never gonna hear the end of that rivalry. 

She’s a slytherin, he’s a gryffindor, that’s big enough right there. Not to mention both of them won’t admit to being wrong when it comes to each other and both definitely DO NOT like admitting when they’ve lost to either parties. Leander always insists he’s better at flying than her and then she’ll tell him to sleep with one eye open. 

When it comes to her job as Captain of the Slytherin quidditch team, she’s very serious about it. 

Everybody better be at practice on time. Practice almost every day and if you don’t have a good excuse to not be there, she’ll talk your ear off about it.

But all of that has paid off because Slytherin’s quidditch team is great all thanks to her and the good players. 

She’s an expert at Wizarding chess. 

Really good at reading people’s faces and body language. 

Not much gets past her. Whether it's school gossip or whatever, she’ll know about it. (And immediately take it to Ominis to talk to him about it lol)

A good friend to have if you need a loyal and spitfire friend who will stand up for you.

[usagirln12003]

Kotaro Bokuto: Hogwarts AU

Kotaro Bokuto is a Half-Blood wizard that was born on the 20th of September 1971 and started attending Hogwarts on the 1st of September 1983, being sorted into Hufflepuff House.

He has an Apple wand with a Unicorn Hair core.

His Patronus is an Horned Owl.

His favorite subject is Flying and his least favorite subject is History of Magic.

He was one of the Beaters for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team from his third year onward.

He has a playful, friendly, bombastic, and child-like personality and is described by the rest of the Quidditch team as having "mood swings". Because of this, he is at times described as being 'simple minded'. His personality is very compatible that he gets along with many people similar to Hinata. Bokuto can at times be oblivious of other people's discomfort, seen with his interactions with Tsukishima. He also shows kind, just traits, leaning towards defensive during Quidditch Friendlies where Bokuto told Kuroo, Tsukishima, and Lev off for ganging up on Hinata when he was attempting to score. Bokuto often makes jokes about everything and acting rather dramatically about his plays, wanting attention or affirmation from his teammates.

Despite his general silly behavior, there are moments when Bokuto exhibits something akin to a wise form of intelligence, his words inspiring Tsukishima in Ravenclaw's game against Slytherin, and helping to keep Yachi from over-worrying during the match against Gryffindor. He has also been shown to have become a mentor figure toward Hinata and has given the younger teen numerous pieces of advice and showed him new tricks.

As a member of Hufflepuff's Quidditch team, Bokuto takes great pride in his position and is both admired and feared by his own team and opponents for his impressive skill and morale-boosting demeanor. However, Bokuto is well known to suffer mood swings that can affect his performance during games and can sometimes take a while or need something grand in order to return to peak form. When he makes a comeback from a slump, he clearly shows his pride as the ace and believes he is the "strongest". Bokuto eventually realizes that his weakness is not a trait that an ace should have and was able to rid himself of this fault which would lead him to start referring to himself as an 'ordinary' ace.

Bokuto also seems to never waver when dealing with "difficult" people like Atsumu after graduating who immediately threatened Bokuto to never complain if he misses one of his scores, and instead of feeling afraid or down, just proceeded to confidently assure him that he is now a regular ace. He shows to be quite proud of himself for no longer suffering from his emotional instability and for being a player that others can rely on.

[banamine-bananime]

the werewolf game ever. of all time: day one

Start reading here!

Church’s player tries and fails to get FIRST (amazingly in-character cringefail narcissistic boyfailure moment, I’m so proud of her). In an act of uncharacteristic magnanimity and faith in someone else to make any decisions, Church also immediately snapvotes that rookie Caboose for blue team captain. How sweet! I’m sure this will set the stage for a completely bloodless and totally-fucking-hinged friendship between them 🥰

Tucker just wants One Fucking Normal Game

Sheila’s trying to kill Sarge (love the spirit but this is not a PvP-enabled day, girlboss) and also campaigning for herself straight out the gate.

The idea of Sheila’s player potentially deciding resolution of vote ties apparently triggers an instinctive, subconscious-canon-trauma-memories fear in Tucker’s player of Sheila having power over who lives and who dies

Fortunately (?) for blue team, Sheila’s just here to fuck around, have a good time, and get sloshed on whiteclaws (presumably poured down her fuel port by Caboose and Lopez?)

meanwhile, Church, in his role PM:

Wyoming and Church start beefing when Wyoming taunts Church for the failed FIRST. Simmons gets snide about how HE was the first RED (which I guess is what matters, anyways, because suck it blue).

I love this message from Tucker’s player bc “I think you haven’t experienced a handful of events that have drained my benevolence and replaced the void with salt 🤣” really encapsulates s7 and s11 Tucker imo. The emoji makes it.

Church isn’t scared of wolf!Caboose, fuck off 🙄😤 (hasn’t yet occurred to Church to be afraid of a Caboose on the same team. Ah, still so naive…):

Tucker: oh okay so Caboose gets away with fucking anything around here 🙄🙄🙄🙄 whatever Church (events referenced are a previous, non-RvB game that was also really really good):

Church @ Tucker:

O’Malley crashes into thread with several biting one-sentence potshots at anyone and everyone to start shit and disappears again. This is the beginning of a pattern for O’Malley.

Sarge and O’Malley have some shit to say about Sheila but she’s just been having the time of her life getting wine drunk and shitposting. The plotline canon Sheila deserved.

She's also got a plan! Sheila's role PM (private message):

Our favourite tank enjoying and taking advantage of being invulnerable to night kills :)

People get into an argument over game mechanics, ft. Church’s player very confidently misreading the rules. Wyoming memes about it:

A lot of squabbling over mechanics and voting strategy ensues. Also a lot of self-votes for captaincy.

Church really really wants everyone to shut the fuck up about “what if we need to coordinate votes with the opposite team to make sure someone on our own team gets voted out instead of someone on the opposite team our team would otherwise all vote for?” because OBVIOUSLY votes are never going to get concentrated on one person like that:

I’m sure these will never become famously ironic last words!

One of the other mods… gets bored and starts writing very grammatically-questionable fanfic in the middle of the thread for no game-related reason? Far from the most egregious shitposting we did that game so I can’t criticize.

Sarge is sarging:

O’Malley starts mercilessly dunking on Church:

Simmons helps:

Sarge’s player is, like, a 50 year old dad old-BGC-RvB fan and he was so funny and so perfect in the role. We love him.

I got to start threatening players 🥰

And finally:

Next: night 1

[itscarshub]

Preview: Chelsea vs. Aston Villa - prediction, team news, lineups

Sports Mole previews Sunday's Premier League clash between Chelsea vs. Aston Villa, including predictions, team news and possible lineups. Both coming into this clash off the back of European adventures earlier in the week, Chelsea and Aston Villa will lock horns at Stamford Bridge for a Premier League match on Sunday afternoon. The Blues were made to work hard for maximum points in the Conference League against Heidenheim on Thursday night, two days after the Villans shared the Champions League spoils with Italian giants Juventus in the Second City.

Match preview

© Imago Following the 2-0 defeat in the fourth round of the EFL Cup to Newcastle United on October 30, Chelsea enjoyed a defeat-free November schedule, a promising month of results that concluded with a two-goal victory at the home of Bundesliga outfit Heidenheim in the Conference League on Thursday night. After a goalless first half, strikes from Christopher Nkunku and Mykhaylo Mudryk ensured that the Blues preserved their 100% record in the League Phase of UEFA's third-tier club competition, meaning that the West Londoners are now guaranteed to advance into February's playoff round at least. Focusing on Premier League matters, Chelsea will be looking to make it back-to-back wins in the top flight following the final international break of the calendar year, with Enzo Maresca getting one over his former employers Leicester City last weekend at the King Power Stadium. Finding the net with a composed finish against the Foxes, Nicolas Jackson is tied at the top of the Blues' Premier League goalscoring ranks alongside England hero Cole Palmer with seven strikes so far, whilst Noni Madueke (4) is the only other Chelsea player to have netted more than once in the top flight this term. Collecting just nine of their 22 Premier League points at Stamford Bridge this campaign, no side in the division has earned a smaller ratio of their points at their respective home base to date, meaning that Maresca's men have a clear area for improvement if they wish to bridge the nine-point gap to league leaders Liverpool.

© Imago Since the 2-0 Champions League success over tournament newcomers Bologna on October 22, Aston Villa have endured a seven-game winless run across all competitions, so it was rather unsurprising that boos were audible in the Second City at the end of Tuesday night's battle with Juventus. Much that was frustration from the Villa faithful was directed towards the decision to disallow Morgan Rogers's strike in the final moments of the match for a foul in the build-up, meaning that Unai Emery's men are now outside of the top-eight spots on the continent. Villa collected just the single point across three Premier League contests in November, suffering a battering at the hands of Tottenham Hotspur and losing at Liverpool before being forced to settle the top-flight points with a stubborn Crystal Palace outfit last Saturday. The Villans had to show their considerable powers of recovery to earn a positive result from their match with the relegation-threatened Eagles, as strikes from Ollie Watkins and Ross Barkley cancelled out efforts by Ismaila Sarr and academy graduate Justin Devenny for the visitors. Looking to halt a four-game winless run in the Premier League, Villa will take plenty of confidence from their recent record at Stamford Bridge ahead of Sunday afternoon, with Emery's side winning two and drawing one of their last three competitive matches at the home of Chelsea.

Team News

© Imago Not involved in the Conference League squad of Chelsea, talisman Palmer and midfielder Romeo Lavia will return to the matchday party of the hosts on Sunday. Enzo Fernandez and Moises Caicedo both watched from the comfort of their own homes as the Blues defeated Heidenheim, with the pair expected to form the midfield duo this weekend. Suffering a fresh hamstring injury, Reece James is taking a day-by-day approach as he builds back up to fitness, with the former England international set to miss a number of weeks. Malo Gusto has not featured for the Blues since the end of the international break, whilst Pedro Neto is fighting back from a knock picked up whilst on duty with Portugal. Sitting on the bench for Tuesday's clash with Juve, Ezri Konsa is expected to regain his spot in the Aston Villa XI alongside Pau Torres. As a result, Diego Carlos could be the unfortunate man to drop out of the visitors' backline, assuming that Emery decides to continue with Matty Cash at right-back. Earning a reputation for his goalscoring antics off the bench, Colombian sensation Jhon Duran is pushing for a start at the expense of leading marksman Watkins. Chelsea possible starting lineup: Sanchez; Gusto, Fofana, Colwill, Cucurella; Caicedo, Fernandez, Madueke, Palmer, Neto; Jackson Aston Villa possible starting lineup: Martinez; Cash, Konsa, Torres, Digne; Kamara, Tielemans, Bailey, McGinn, Rogers; Watkins

We say: Chelsea 2-1 Aston Villa

Utilising the impressive depth of their squad in the Conference League on Thursday night, Chelsea's leading stars should be fresh and ready to put an out-of-form Aston Villa to the sword at Stamford Bridge. The Villans are in danger of falling down the Premier League standings should their winless streak carry on for too much longer, and we reckon that the visitors will narrowly lose out in West London.   Read More  Read the full article

[calacuspr]

Calacus Monthly Hit & Miss – The Spanish Women’s National Team and the RFEF

Every month we look at the best and worst communicators in the sports world from the last few weeks.

The 2023 FIFA Women’s World Cup saw the Spanish national team deservedly lift the trophy for the first time after defeating England’s Lionesses by a single goal in the final at Stadium Australia in Sydney.

 The end of the tournament also offered a moment, at last, to pause and reflect on a breathless month of raw emotions, technical brilliance and numerous shattered records.

 Despite all of the quality, though, there still remained something of a sour taste in the mouth given the adversity to which so many of the women’s players were subjected.

 In the face of this, the players repeatedly proved that they were unafraid to stand up for what they believe is right.

 This was typified months before the tournament had even begun, when a player-led campaign successfully removed Visit Saudi as a sponsor for the 2023 World Cup.

 During the tournament, we saw the struggles of the Nigerian team, who were one of a number of competing nations that were locked in a pay dispute with their own federation.

 Former England striker Ian Wright weighed in on Twitter to show his total support for the Nigerian players after their superb and surprise victory over co-hosts Australia.

 Meanwhile, England goalkeeper Mary Earps regularly criticised Nike’s decision not to sell her jersey, despite her being one of the stars of the World Cup.

 There were also rumblings of discontent about the reported pay disparity between Lionesses coach Sarina Wiegman and her male counterpart, Gareth Southgate, even though Wiegman has had a far better record in the role.

 All of this came in the context of a vast gap in prize money offered by FIFA between this Women’s World Cup and the men’s 2022 edition in Qatar.

 Tactics, performances and professionalism had clearly taken great strides forward. At the same time, in the fight for equal conditions, it still felt like there is a long way to go.

 The plight of the women’s players was summarised aptly by iconic USWNT star Megan Rapinoe in an interview with The Atlantic. She explained that female players are constantly “playing two games at the same time” – off the pitch as well as on the pitch.

 Never could this have been more apparent than in the case of the eventual champions Spain.

 The Spanish team came into the tournament already under a cloud.

 At the back end of 2022, a group of 15 first-team players had sent identical emails to the Spanish football federation (RFEF) requesting the removal of Jorge Vilda as manager.

 The exact reasons have still not been specified, although it is understood that the players had issues with Vilda in terms of his personal behaviour as well as his tactical shortcomings.

 In response, the RFEF doubled down and backed their man, declaring that the 15 players had been “poorly advised” and threatened bans of up to five years.

 The mutinous players, dubbed “Las 15,” were cast aside and Vilda was given the ultimate vote of confidence to continue in his work.

 Prior to the World Cup, Vilda recalled just three of the 15: Aitana Bonmatí, Mariona Caldentey and Ona Batlle.

 "The RFEF has always been open to dialogue. The conflict is practically resolved, a few details would remain. We would be delighted if that were the case, but we look at the players who are committed and have shown their commitment," Vilda said after confirming his World Cup squad.

 The rest of the 15, including many FC Barcelona Femení stars who had just won the UEFA Women’s Champions League, were excluded.

 Accordingly, the ignored rebels treated the tournament in a similar manner, going through their individual summers with absolutely zero acknowledgement of any international football event which might be taking place.

 Whether it is considered petty and disrespectful or brave and honourable, what this stance certainly has done is exemplify the glaring political divide within Spanish women’s football.

 In spite of this internal turmoil, the selected Spanish players displayed miraculous resolve to concentrate on the sport during the World Cup.

 There were glimpses of the bitterness between the players and Vilda throughout their run to the final; most notably when two-time Ballon d’Or winner Alexia Putellas blatantly blanked Vilda as she was substituted in the semi-final against Sweden.

 When Spain arrived to face England in the final, the capacity crowd in Sydney showed whose side they were on as a chorus of boos greeted the announcement of Vilda’s name.

 In the final itself, Spain were fabulous and a superbly-taken goal from captain Olga Carmona was enough to win the game. After the match had ended, Carmona discovered that her father had passed away earlier that same day.

 Nonetheless, the 23-year-old captain still appeared at the homecoming party in Madrid only days later to greet the rapturous crowd and deliver a beautifully touching speech describing her incredible range of emotions.

 Back in Australia, the separate groups of celebrations at the full-time whistle illustrated the distinct dissociation between players and staff.

  For the trophy presentation, the RFEF president, Luis Rubiales, ensured that he was going to be front and centre.

 Whereas earlier in the year, the FC Barcelona Femení players had to collect their own medals after winning the Spanish Super Cup, this time the RFEF leader piggybacked onto the success of the women’s team to put himself firmly in the headlines.

 Firstly, Rubiales was caught on camera making an obscene gesture with his groin in the stands right beside Queen Letizia of Spain and her 16-year-old daughter.

 On the podium, Rubiales, having already unnecessarily hugged, touched the face and kissed the cheek of various English and Spanish players, abused his position of power one time too many as he planted a kiss on the lips of Spanish attacker Jenni Hermoso.

 Suddenly, even in their crowning moment, a time that should have been nothing but euphoria for each and every member of the squad, the achievement of the players had become overshadowed by the ugly actions of this man.

 Rather than swiftly dealing with their president, the RFEF was busy not reading the room and tweeting “Vilda In,” a tweet that was met with a mix of anger and despondency – described politely as a disheartening statement, and candidly as a disgrace.

 When it was finally time for Rubiales to face the music, he vociferously swatted away any criticism of his actions. Speaking to Spanish broadcaster COPE, he referred to the people who were unhappy with his actions as “idiots” and “stupid people.”

 “It was a kiss between two friends celebrating something,” Rubiales said dismissively. “Let’s ignore them [the critics] and enjoy the good things.”

 Within a day, however, Rubiales had performed a sudden volte-face and was releasing a video online with a half-baked apology.

 In a short address to camera, Rubiales stated: “I was surely wrong, I have to admit it, because at a moment of maximum effusiveness, without any bad intentions, without any bad faith, well, what happened happened.

 “We didn’t understand [the controversy] because we saw it as something natural, normal,” he added. “But outside it seems that a commotion has formed, and of course if there are people who have felt damaged by this, I have to apologise, I have no other choice.”

 It was evident from his words that Rubiales couldn’t see what he had done wrong.

 Shortly afterwards, despite saying “I didn’t like it [the kiss], but what do I do?” in an Instagram live video from the changing room after the incident, it seemed that Hermoso had also performed a U-turn when a statement attributed to her was released.

 "It was a mutual gesture, totally spontaneous because of the immense joy that comes from winning a World Cup," read the statement provided by the RFEF.

 “The president and I have a great relationship, his behaviour with all of us has been top notch,” it continued. “A gesture of friendship and gratitude cannot be given any more thought. We have won a World Cup and we are not going to deviate from what is important.”

 Astonishingly, it subsequently emerged that the ‘Hermoso statement’ had been fabricated by the RFEF.

 Rubiales was alleged to have unsuccessfully pleaded with Hermoso to defend him in a joint statement. Vilda then approached her family on three occasions, desperate for Hermoso to appear alongside Rubiales in the apology video.

 Having remained silent for as long as she could, Hermoso finally spoke out four days after the final and two days after the false statement had been released, as she released her own joint statement with FUTPRO.

 Hermoso said: "We express our firm and resounding condemnation of conduct that violates the dignity of women.

 "From our association, we ask the Royal Spanish Football Federation to implement the necessary protocols, ensure the rights of our players and adopt exemplary measures.

 "It is essential that our national team, current world champion, is always represented by figures that project values of equality and respect in all areas.”

  If Rubiales’ position didn’t already appear untenable, the statement from Hermoso triggered numerous senior voices, in the world of both sport and politics, to call for his resignation.

 Beatriz Álvarez Mesa, the president of Liga F (the top tier of Spanish women’s football), wrote an open letter to the government attacking Rubiales. Her comment that "the person that many of us know in private has been unveiled publicly" was utterly damning.

 The Spanish Prime Minister, Pedro Sánchez, described Rubiales’ gesture as “unacceptable” and said that his “apologies are not enough.” At the same time, the Minister for Equality, Irene Montero, labelled the actions as “a form of sexual violence that women suffer on a daily basis.”

 Tamara Ramos, a former employee of the Spanish players’ association and colleague of Rubiales, then spoke out about past humiliating treatment at the hands of the president.

 In response to Ramos, the RFEF condemned the allegations and announced that they would sue her for the false allegations.

 The stubborn, defensive approach of the federation was then superseded by Rubiales when a press conference was called for the following Friday morning, where it was widely expected that he would announce his resignation.

 However, in a turn of events that was as jaw-dropping as it was depressing, Rubiales took to the stage to defiantly repeat that he would not resign. He went on to describe “false feminism” as “one of the scourges of this country” and placed himself as the victim of a witch hunt.

 Worryingly, his comments received an outburst of applause by much of the audience, including from Vilda and Luis de la Fuente, the Spanish men’s team manager.

 Immediately after this speech, a catalogue of prominent women’s players condemned Rubiales and spoke out in support of Hermoso.

 Amongst others, Leah Williamson and Beth Mead nailed the Lionesses’ colours to the mast. Alex Morgan followed suit for the USWNT.

 “This is unacceptable. It's over. With you partner @Jennihermoso” was the simple but powerful message posted by Putellas.

 Bonmatí similarly tweeted: “There are limits that cannot be crossed and we cannot tolerate this. We are with you mate.”

 The situation was perhaps best summed up by Dutch player, Merel van Dongen, who used the president of FIFA’s recent words against him.

 Her post read: “Like the great great Infantino once said: ‘Women pick the right fights!’ Oooohh how the Spanish women are picking this fight. Proud to see how women, men, media and politics in Spain finally unite to change something that hasn’t been right for years. Se acabó. It’s time for justice.”

 Although van Dongen mentioned men, there was a conspicuously smaller number of male players who publicly backed Hermoso.

 Borja Iglesias ruled himself out of national team selection, Hector Bellerin vented his frustration via his Instagram story, and Barcelona captain Sergi Roberto quoted Putellas on Twitter to show support. Legendary Spanish goalkeepers David de Gea and Iker Casillas also denounced the “embarrassment” of Rubiales.

 Unfortunately though, the majority of men’s players, both past and present, have remained silent on the issue, suggesting a significant sociopolitical divide between male and female players.

 Top Spanish clubs then united behind the calls for Rubiales’ resignation, starting  with Cadiz, then Getafe, Real Sociedad and Atletico Madrid, who hopped onboard the bandwagon, before eventually both Real Madrid and Barcelona joined them.

 Hermoso herself responded to the press conference, confirming via her Twitter that the kiss was not “consensual”.

 Her teammates then launched a boycott of the national team. A total of 81 players – including the entire World Cup winning squad – co-signed a letter saying they will not be available for international selection until the “federation leadership is removed.”

 The weekend that followed the explosive press conference provided almost non-stop new developments.

 Many journalists attributed Rubiales’ attitude as being symptomatic of a long-standing issue within the system of Spanish football governance.

 This idea was further enforced when details of complaints against Rubiales going back as far as 2016 surfaced, as well as a disturbing video of disgraced former national team manager, Ignacio Quereda, intimidating and physically assaulting Spanish players.

 Wary of the unprecedented damage that this drama was doing to their national reputation, the Spanish government opened up proceedings against Rubiales to get him forcibly removed from his post via tribunal.

 Rubiales was then provisionally suspended from all football activity by FIFA.

 Yet still, the RFEF circled around their man and threatened to take legal action against Hermoso for her “lies”, releasing their own breakdown of the kiss, claiming that Hermoso had initiated it.

 The video evidence of Rubiales picking up numerous other Spanish players before Hermoso strongly opposes this allegation.

 In addition, the RFEF general secretary wrote to UEFA to request to withdraw Spanish clubs from European competition due to government involvement breaking UEFA impartiality protocols.

 UEFA have chosen not to respond to the RFEF request, nor make any comment on the situation surrounding their vice-president, raising questions about their values and vested interests.

 Sometimes, no communication can be just as detrimental as poor communication.

 A mass resignation of the Spanish coaching staff then left just Villa still in situ, but his position was hardly stable.

 Misa Rodriguez, a member of Vilda’s World Cup winning squad, demanded his removal before the players could consider a return.

 As eminent voices in world football, such as Lise Klaveness of Norway, continued to throw their support behind Hermoso, the people of Spain took to the streets in protest against the RFEF president.

 The issue went as far as the UN Human Rights office, who said that the public stance on the kiss could be “a turning point” in terms of sexism and misogyny.

Perhaps the most bizarre part of the story came from Rubiales’ hometown of Motril, where his mother, Angeles Bejar, locked herself into a Church saying she would go on hunger strike in an attempt to end the “inhuman, bloodthirsty witch hunt” of her son. Bejar has since been hospitalised and discharged.

Eventually, more than a week after the World Cup final incident, the RFEF released an official statement requesting Rubiales to resign.

 As it stands, Rubiales remains in post although how much longer he will stay there is anyone’s guess.

 The saga has been widely reported as a ‘Me Too’ moment for Spanish society. The hashtag “#SeAcabó” (“It’s Over”) has trended on social media and has become the slogan for an end to gender inequality across the country.

 In this way, weirdly, the actions of Rubiales could prove beneficial.

 A textbook response when an individual or organisation does something wrong, either deliberately or by mistake, is to acknowledge what has happened, apologise and then commit to fix it.

 On this occasion, even in his bumbled apology video, it was clear that Rubiales did not truly acknowledge what he had done wrong – the actions of the president and his organisation since has confirmed this.

 Instead, the lack of self-reflection and understanding has caused this story to become one of the great communications own goals in living memory.

As such, perversely, it may just be the catalyst to push forward a long overdue culture clean-up.

The words and actions of Rubiales have shone a light on a deeply entrenched problem within Spanish football, a problem that former national team member Veró Boquete says players have “been living and suffering for a long time.”

Even though UEFA have attempted to avoid the matter, at their own grand ceremony in Monaco at the end of the month, England boss Wiegman delivered a passionate speech, dedicating her Women’s Coach of the Year award to the Spanish players.

“We all know the issues around the Spanish team,” said Wiegman, stood alongside UEFA President Aleksander Čeferin. “It really hurts me, as a coach, as a mother of two daughters, as a wife and as a human being.

“The game has grown so much, but there’s also still a long way to go in women’s football and in society,” she continued. “This team [Spain] deserves to be celebrated and deserves to be listened to.”

In complete juxtaposition to Rubiales and the RFEF, the communication of Wiegman, the Spanish players, and the many others who have supported them, has been simple, concise and devastatingly effective.

Rubiales appeared to have cemented himself into a position of untouchable authority within Spanish football, but the force of the united messaging by those in opposition to him has completely shattered that misconception. 

Now, as the RFEF continue to dig themselves deeper into a crisis by watering down the long overdue statement of the Spanish men’s team, demonstrating yet again that their primary focus is to protect their president rather than the interests of those who they are supposed to represent, it almost matters not whether Rubiales leaves of his own accord, or is fired, as the patriarchy of the Spanish football federation has been exposed – and surely there is no turning back.

As Wiegman, Boquete and so many others have plainly stated: “It’s over.”

[luxaltare]

Relief floods her heart, threatening to overflow. Lene isn't sure if it's the sight of Professor Diamant back on his feet or the healing aura of her allies but all feels right with the world once more. Well, as right as it can be stuck in a Church assigned training illusion. Less wrong and brutal in the gentle sunlight at least.

She'll take what little graces she can find.

"Glad to see you back on your feet, sir! Let's fight our hardest, together. We'll get through this as a team."

Lene (8.5/10 HP) recovers +2HP from Amaterasu (Sakura) and Bond (Arval). Lene has 10/10 HP remaining

Lene does worry how her poor horse can even move with her atop it, covered head to toe in plate armour. It restricts her own movement, something she's far from comfortable with but the reinforced armour does have it's benefit. Her horse trots along slowly and Lene feels confident in her ability to protect the other this time. Their shield in the coming battle.

It takes a moment but she rearranges the axe, slinging it across her back and drawing the baton like a sword. Electricity sparks and crackles from it as she urges her horse forward, holding the Electroshock Baton high in the air and preparing to swing at the Sunheart Chaser.

Lene (10/10 HP) attacks Sunheart Chaser: Brod (1) (18/18 HP) with Electroshock Baton Roll d20-2: 10-2 = 8! Hit! -3.5 damage. Sunheart Chaser: Brod (1) has 14.5/18 HP remaining. Sunheart Chaser: Brod (1) is stunned. Cannot attack or counterattack until the next Player Phase.

So it's harder to move around but she still gets a solid hit. One that leaves their opponent paralysed by electricity. Lene rejoices - not only is it a sitting duck for her friends to dunk on but it can't hurt them, at least for a little while.

"It's in shock and can't find back! Let's go ham on the sorry soul whilst we can!"

@heriteur

through fortune and flame we fall | team ten silver round

[justsaying-33]

What an Idiot!

[katyasrussianaccent]

i don't wanna be your friend, I wanna kiss your lips (corpse x reader)

Summary: Corpse suggests you flirt with each other to mess with the fans. What happens when you suddenly catch feelings?

Authors Note: This has been in my brain for so long so I decided to write it. May or may not write a part 2, im not sure. Lemme know what you think! My requests are open for fic/headcannons aswell 💖

It should have been simple.

Flirt, mess with the fans a little, sit back and relax.

It should have been simple.

You remember Corpse coming to you with the idea.

“Why would we do that?” you had asked, frowning at your phone screen. It had been another late night phone conversation with him; something that was starting to become a regular occurrence.

You pictured him shrug as he answered. “Fun?”

“Are you so bored you wanna make a fake relationship with me?”

“Not a relationship. Just do what we do now, but like, more.”

You had agreed before your brain had even registered it. On paper it was straightforward. You already flirted a little anyway, you were naturally a flirtatious person, and so was he. It made sense; or at least you had told yourself that it did. You knew the fans already shipped you together, you saw the things they tweeted as you occasionally lurked the ynhusband tag on Twitter. It was just innocent fun right? No-one was going to get hurt.

For a little while that was true. For a little while he called you baby and you called him darling and it meant nothing. Your face didn’t feel flush when he commented on your latest Instagram post and your heart didn’t do a little flip when he would call you just to see how you were. The phone conversations were your favourite; curled up in bed with the phone on your pillow, trading secrets into the night. He had suddenly become this constant in your life, this almost routine familiarity like brushing your teeth or going to get milk.

You weren’t sure what changed, when it had gone from being innocent fun to meaning something. It was like someone had flicked a switch, and Corpse was no longer a warm glow but this bright, blinding light that hurt your eyes to look at too long. It was almost cruel, the way you wanted something so unobtainable; the universe’s idea of a joke had no humour in it. The thing with Corpse was he was so unaware of the power he had. He was mysterious yes, but he was faceless among a sea of faces; of course people were drawn to him. And you were just another.

You started to pull away. You played different games with different people, you ignored his tweets. It was easier, if you never interacted with him, you could pretend there was nothing but shallow feelings instead of the crashing waves that threatened to pull you under. The fans had started to notice; your streams were filled with questions that you refused to answer.

“Where’s Corpse?” you read aloud as you scrolled down the chat. “Probably in his house? Go ask him.” Your tone was bitter even to you and you inwardly cringed. He hadn’t contacted you in 2 weeks, and while you were thankful, you were hurt by it. It was stupid and hypoctritical of you to be upset by something that was your own doing, and you weren’t sure what you had expected from him. He had other friends, other people to talk to, why would he have cared about you anyway?

Your phone lit up next to you, and you ignored the pang of disappointment at Rae’s picture flashing up.

Rae: Among Us???

You hesitated for a second. The likelihood of Corpse being there was high, but you knew deep down he wouldn’t say a thing to you, not on stream or in front of your friends. You could just ignore him, like you had been doing and it would be fine. You weren’t sure you believed yourself anymore.

“Guys, you want to watch me play Among Us? I’m not sure who’s playing, other than Rae.” You looked at the fast flowing stream of affirmatives and emojis. Guess you had to do it now. You opened up the game and joined the lobby.

“-yeah she looks really fucking cute,” you heard Corpse say as you logged in. You looked down at your outfit,; he definitely wasn’t talking about you in your oversized t-shirt and sweatpants. You had been on stream for a few hours now; your eyeliner was smudged a little and any lipstick had worn off with the constant drinking and licking your lips. No, he definitely wasn’t talking about you.

“Hey guys,” you said tentatively, swallowing down the feeling of jealousy at Corpse’s previous words.

A chorus of greetings hit you, and you smiled at their enthusiasm. You had played with Rae, Sykunno and Toast a few times before, but Felix, Jack and Ash were new to you, though you knew of them.

“Hey Y/N,” Corpse said. You had hoped after 2 weeks he wouldn’t still affect you so much, but the way your stomach turned said otherwise.

“Hey Corpse,” you replied, hoping your tone was casual.

“I haven’t seen you in a while, how are you?” he asked.

“Oh. Uh yeah, I’ve been a bit busy I guess, how are you?” You looked down as you answered, picking at your nail polish. You glanced at the chat that was filled with messages.

corpsesbaby: You can always tell when someones lying coz they look down” llamadelrey: why is this so awkward lmao arent they friends??” simpsforrae: This is like is a breakup i swear

“I’ve been okay, thanks” Corpse answered, drawing your eyes off the chat and back to the game. You nodded as you muted your mic to go back to your stream.

“I hope I don’t get imposter, I always suck at that so much.” You watched as the screen counted down and the word IMPOSTER flashed up alongside Corpse’s name. “Guess I jinxed it guys.”

Great. Not only were you imposter, you were imposter with Corpse, which meant you would have to actually speak to him. Maybe you wouldn’t have to.

You both followed Rae as she walked up towards Greenhouse, and you cornered her while she did her task, killing her quickly.

“Everyone seemed to go right, so we should vent back towards cafeteria to avoid suspicion,” Corpse said.

“Okay,” you answered. You vented together, and you muted your mic to laugh. “This is kinda cosy guys.” You said to your chat. You briefly imagined what it would be like in real life to be so close to him.

You moved to Admin where Toast was doing his task. Before you could say a word, Corpse had already killed him and you both vented outside Cafeteria. “Fuck, that was so close,” you muttered, chuckling a little.

“Don’t worry, I got your back,” he replied, making your heart sing a little.

“Oh my hero,” you said, making a point of swooning to your chat, your voice high and airy. “How will I ever repay you?”

He chuckled, “You shouldn’t ask questions like that.”

You flushed at the suggestive tone he had taken, and you hoped it wasn’t noticeable but judging by the comments in your chat, it clearly had been. This was another issue you had with Corpse; he always made these type of comments with you and it was really annoying. You knew there was no chance he was being serious, and sometimes you wished he would stop it purely because it got your hopes up.

delilah: shes BLUSHING dreamofme: uWu yn uWu

You opened your mouth to respond when Dead Body Reported flashed up, bringing your thoughts back to the game.

“Toast and Rae are dead,” Sykuuno said. “I found Rae in Greenhouse and Toast in admin.”

“I was in balcony, I went there from the cafeteria,” you said confidently. You hated being Imposter, especially being teamed with Corpse, who was so good at the game, you had a lot of pressure to do well.

“I was in MedBay, I didn’t see you YN,” Ash accused.

“You only see if they enter through the left door. She entered through the other door,” Corpse answered for you.

“And how do you know that?” Felix asked.

“I was in Cafeteria,” Corpse replied.

“You could’ve vented YN,” Jack said.

“No I couldn’t have, if Ash was in MedBay, she would have seen me. Unless she wasn’t in MedBay,” you suggested, smirking to your cam as you muted. “It’s not going too bad I don’t think? Always feel like I’ve been arrested when I’m Imposter.”

“Little sus of you Ash to say you were in MedBay when you weren’t,” Corpse said. You gaped a little at how easy it was for him to manipulate the situation, it was almost scary.

Ash argued as the other players began to agree and discuss among themselves. You smiled in success at the text on the screen.

Ash has been ejected.

You split up this time, and while you hadn’t really spoken during the game, you kind of missed Corpse’s astronaut next to yours, and you said that to your chat. “Haha, our colours did look cute together, I agree.”

Any previous trepidation you had had disappeared as soon as you had heard his voice; and you realised how much you had missed him. You would simply just need to deal with your feelings; they would go away eventually anyway. You just hoped it wasn’t too late for you to start again with him.

You walked to MedBay with Skyunno, making small talk as you did.

“I’m glad to see you playing with us, it’s been a little while,” he said and you felt bad that you would have to kill him. As you turned towards him, ready to kill as he did his task, Jack walked in. You mouthed oops at the cam.

“What’s going on here?” Jack asked, suspicion in his voice.

“I was just saying how nice it was to have YN here,” Sykunno replied. You stood and faked your task, watching the green bar fill as you did. It would be too risky to kill here.

“Ah yeah, Corpse has been asking after you constantly,” Jack said. You blinked at the response, it had caught you off guard.

“Oh?” you replied simply. You mentally shrugged it off. Of course he would have asked about you, you were friends, that was all.

DEAD BODY REPORTED

“Felix was dead in Reactor,” Corpse announced. “Oh Corpse, you’re taking a risk here” you said to your chat.

“I was in MedBay with Jack and Sykunno,” you replied, smiling as they agreed. “Where were you Ash?”

She sighed sadly. “I was in Labs, but I was doing a task, I swear!” You all agreed quickly that Ash would be the next voted out.

“2 to go,” you said triumphantly. “I thought I was gonna drag Corpse down, but it’s going okay!”

The round started again and you could feel yourself getting tired. Hopefully this wouldn’t be too much longer to finish the game.

You circled round Corpse a few times, hoping that he would understand your signal. Luckily he did, and you both vented to Decontamination where Skyunno and Jack were. The room had already started to emit steam, making it extremely easy for you both to vent unnoticed and kill them both.

You grinned at the Victory message that flashed up.

“Good game guys!” you said. The others congratulated you and Corpse on your win and you smiled at the sound of your names together. You had it bad.

“It was all YN,” Corpse said.

“Pfft you ssh being humble, it was all you,” you replied, taking your hair out of your ponytail and running your hand through it.

“Your hair looks nice,” Corpse commented and your eyes widened. Your heart started to beat a little quicker. How long had he been watching your stream?

“It’s bad to watch someone’s stream without telling them,” you replied, making a show of pouting for the camera.

He laughed a little. “What can I say, I’m a bad guy,” he said, singing the last words. You laughed at the sudden Billie Eilish.

“Guys, either play another game, or get a room,” Felix interrupted. You blushed a little and rolled your eyes, the chat going crazy from the corner of your eye.

“And that’s my cue to exit,” you said, yawning. “Bye guys, have a good night!” You wished everyone and your chat goodnight before closing the stream and leaning back in your chat. You couldn’t believe Corpse had been watching you. You hadn’t said anything too incriminating, but still.

You prepared for bed, settling back into the softness of your pillows as you grabbed your phone - a terrible habit you really needed to stop.

Corpse: Can I call you?

You gulped at the message that appeared on your screen, a gnawing feeling of nervous clung to your throat as you typed yes. His name came up almost instantaneously and your hand shook as you pressed to accept the call.

“Hey,” he greeted.

“Hey, what’s up?” you asked, trying to keep your voice even while your heart beat erratically in your chest.

“It was nice playing with you again,” he commented.

You sat up a little as you held the phone against your ear. “Did you call me to tell me that?”

“I haven’t spoken to you in a while.”

You sighed a little. “Yeah, I’ve been a bit busy, sorry - “

“You’re lying to me and I don’t know why,” he replied. You had never heard his voice like that before; so angry and hurt. You tapped your foot against your mattress as you thought what to say.

“I -”

“Did I do something?” he asked. You had been so selfish; blocking him out to avoid being hurt, but you hadn’t thought about his feelings. He was more popular than you were, you had assumed he would be fine, that he wouldn’t care if you were around or not.

“No, you didn’t do anything, I swear -”

“Then what? Because I thought we were friends, close friends and then suddenly you pretty much disappear. But you’re still streaming with other people. It’s pretty shitty of you.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek and looked up, the sting of tears threatening to fall. “It was really shitty of me, I’m sorry.”

“What happened?” he asked. “Please just tell me.”

“I don’t know what I’m meant to say,” you replied softly.

“What do you want to say?”

You blinked, the anticipation of unspoken words caught in your throat, making it hard to swallow. The taste of them was bitter on your tongue. “I...I have feelings for you.”

There. You had said it. There was no taking it back now, and you felt like your heart was about to shatter with every single second of silence that passed. You could hear him swallow on the other end of the phone. “Are you saying you’re in love with me?”

You bit your lip, taking in the meaning of the question he had asked. It wasn’t something you had thought of, you hadn’t conceptualised your feelings for him, not put them in a box labelled love or anything. “I don’t know. I feel something for you. And it kinda sucks being your friend and having those feelings. So I pulled away.”

“Why does it suck?”

You laughed bitterly. “Why wouldn’t it? Feeling something for someone that doesn’t feel the same is fucking shitty.”

“I asked you to flirt with me YN -”

“Yeah, for fun,” you interrupted.

“No, I said for fun, but really I just wanted you to,” he replied. “I feel something for you too. How could I not? Has anything I’ve ever said to you sounded like it was just for fun?” You smiled at his response, your heart no longer on the fit of breaking, but suddenly doing flips and soaring through your chest, radiating warmth through your body.

“Oh,” you said, your brain was overloaded with thoughts, and was apparently no longer capable of coherent sentences.

“Oh? That’s a great response, thanks,” he teased, but you could tell he was smiling as he spoke.

“I wasn’t expecting you to say that, I don’t really know what to say honestly,” you replied.

“Well, baby, how about you say yes to a date?” he asked.

“Yes.”

[lilbabyalpha]

No one saw Mr. Rodriguez leave the vacant locker room. The closeted promiscuous bottom was a sneaky middle aged man. He couldn't afford to let his wife and kids find out his darkest secret: that he had voluntarily become a sex slave to one of his own students, Caleb Anderson. The eighteen year old boy with the baby face, short stature and slightly auburn brown hair was a looker, and he knew it. He finished getting dressed. His face was flushed with confidence. He was secretly fucking his history teacher for the sheer thrill of it, fucking him into oblivion, and he was enjoying every minute of this secret rondezvous. However, he couldn't ignore the fact that Mr. Rodriguez was starting to bore the tiny power top.

Tying his shoes, Caleb was all dressed. All that was left of his debauchery were his used condom and Mr. Rodriguez's name tag. Despite the man being an educator, he wasn't very bright. Confident after a serious session in pound town, Caleb heard a slamming of the door and a slamming of a locker. " Fuck," Caleb thought to himself. He got caught, or so he thought. That's when he heard a familiar voice; a voice that was more emotionally fragile than threatening. Walking around the corner, that's when Caleb saw it, the new kid, David Karofsky.

David was an imposing figure. Six feet tall. Beefy. Linebacker on the varsity football team. There were rumors going around. Some said he was a re formed bully trying to start a new life. Some say he hid even darker secrets. The two would constantly stare at each other in the hallway during school, frequently eyeing each other with some serious side eye, so Caleb knew the giant was hiding something. The towering bear of a man proved it when Caleb watched the giant break down in tears.

" Woah, woah. What's going on, Mate?" Caleb said as he got to eye level of the football player, speaking in his thick, playful and seductive english accent that he was notorious for. Despite the vast size difference, Caleb helped the larger man get back on his feet, and he did it surprisingly well. Caleb had a strong grip; something most people would not expect from a man so small.

" I'm sure it's can't be that bad; I'm gonna have to get a bar of soap first. You can't kiss your mother with a mouth like that."

Despite his introverted demeanor, Caleb could crack a joke here or there. He needed to, since David's foul swearing and emotional outburst needed some recognition. The smaller of the two had to break the ice somehow.

" Something's gotta be bugging you to break down like that. What's going on?"

lilbabyalpha (Caleb/David)

@lilbabyalpha

Seeing the word "FAG" spray painted in what could only be described as 'offensively pink' spray paint over his locker was like someone had stabbed David straight in the heart. Right now, he thought he would actually prefer that compared to the absolute emotional destruction that was currently rocking his oversized body. Seeing the word had been bad enough but turning around to see his teammates, people who he had called friends, jeering at him and screaming the word in his face just broke him.

He ran through the team like he was trying to clear a path for the quarterback, knocking people out of the way without a second thought, and got out of the locker room before realising he couldn't go anywhere. He'd gotten a ride into school that day with one of the guys who was still laughing in the room behind him and he didn't trust himself to be left alone at home. With tears already just leaking out of his eyes, his breath barely coming out he noticed the door of the away team's locker room was just barely open and so, with his vision getting ever blurrier from the tears, he ran into the other locker room and locked the door behind him.

Finally, sure that he was alone, David leaned against the wall and let out a guttural scream, punching the wall so hard he left a hole in the cheap plaster. "FUCK!" he cried out, heaving for breath before hearing something inside the locker room with him and spinning around, wiping his eyes on his sleeve quickly and looking about "Who the fuck's there?!" he exclaimed, slowly walking in "Cos I swear to fucking god, it's just us in here and I will fucking end you if I have to... I'm in no goddamn mood!" he sounded so tough, so much tougher than he felt.

His bravado almost completely crumbled when he saw Caleb, the adorable twink who he'd seen around the place a few times and even checked out his ass once when he walked past Caleb tying his shoes. "...Caleb?" he whispered, finally seeing who he was locked in there with. Realising who it was in front of him let David know instantly he wasn't going to need to beat him up to get out of the room... and the instant it hit him he didn't need to fight, the adrenaline that'd powered him the entire way from his locker to here almost instantly vanished and David's knees buckled, making him fall to the floor. After so long keeping everything secret, David Karofsky had been shoved out of the closet and he didn't know what the hell to do now.

[pittbull-enthusiast]

Sunburn (Modern!Hockey AU) Albert Dasilva x Reader

REWRITTEN FIC

Soo.. I am indeed back, sorta. I wanted to take the time and add/redo some of the things in this fic because I wrote it so long ago, and wanted to make some adjustments before I posted the second part (which will be out soon!) I know not a lot has changed, but oh whale!

Thank you and have fun!

Warnings: Swearing, very slight suggestive talk. Boys.

__________________________________________

Albert’s skates flew effortlessly on the ice beneath him, quickly changing directions when the small rubber puck would skid away. He breathed in the cold, damp smell of sweat and blood, relishing in the sound of hockey sticks colliding with the ice, grunts and yells of his fellow teammates, and the swift sound of his skates on the rink. Adrenaline pulsed through his body as he skated through the players, slamming one in the glass before skating off again. This was Heaven for him.

He came to an abrupt stop as the coach’s whistle signaled the practice game to an end. He pulled off his helmet and shook his head a bit, damp red locks getting even more messed up than before, when he was joined by three of his fellow teammates.

“Nice work out there today, Dasilva,” said Jack with a proud grin. “You're definitely one of my strongest players out there.” As captain of the high school hockey team, Jack Kelly had the most experience out of anyone there. A compliment from him was a big deal. 

 “Thanks, Kelly.” Albert replied with a confident smile. Race skated up too and nodded, affectionately ruffling Albert’s hair.

“Damn right he’s one of the best!” Race exclaimed. “You seen him play against Queens last week? He had em’ shakin’ in their skates!”

“And not in the fun way,” Romeo cut in suggestively. “Unless-“

“Woah woah woah!” Albert interrupted, putting his hands up defensively. “Shut up Romeo, I’m surprised they even let you in.” Albert smiled devilishly and continued, “You have to be at least 10 years old to enter, you know.”

Romeo’s jaw dropped in offense. “Listen Little Orphan Annie-” He started angrily.

“Little Orphan- You ass!” Race snarked, jumping to Albert’s defense. Race hooked his arm around Romeo’s neck and skated backwards, starting a playful brawl. Albert and Jack snickered as they silently watched the scene unfold, not bothering to step in.

“Seriously,” Jack leaned over to Albert, as Romeo waved his stick at Race in what he hoped was a threatening manner (it wasn’t). “I am real proud of how you’re doin’. Not to get sappy or anythin’.” He joked, bumping his shoulder. 

Albert smiled. “Thanks, Jack.” 

Jack nodded but then paused, looking thoughtful for a moment before focusing his eyes forward again.

 “Unrelated, but Coach wants me to pick a second assistant captain,” He continued, side eyeing Albert. Albert raised his eyebrow. “With the way you’ve been playin’, some say you could possibly make that position.”

Albert’s eyes widened. “What?”

Jack nodded. “Especially if you do well against Brooklyn this Friday. I heard some recruiters are gonna come to the next few games. They’re lookin’ for some star players.” With that, Jack smiled and winked at Albert’s stunned face, patting his back before skating away to the locker room. He narrowly missed a flying stick to the head as a result of the playful scuffle Romeo and Race were still in, and even though that stick instead collided with Albert’s knee, he could hardly snap himself out of the good mood the news put him in.

Albert tuned out most of the banter taking place in the locker room, much too engrossed in his own thoughts to care that Mush had stolen Spec’s glasses or that Romeo had somehow pissed Jo Jo off enough to get stuffed in his own locker again. Being the second assistant captain would put Al right in the line of sight of recruiters for the NHL, between the extra playing time and the big block lettered “A” on his left shoulder. It might impress her too. He added in his own head, trying to convince himself that it was an afterthought when he knew damn well it was the first thing his brain jumped to.

Shaking his head of the thought, Albert dazedly hoisted his hockey bag on his shoulder and walked out with Race, only half-paying attention to the story he was telling about some outdoor hockey scuffle he had gotten into. 

“This guy was a real bruiser too, you knows how them Brooklyn boys are. He had been messin’ with Jo Jo the entire game, so I shoved him right into the bench! I mean it was just a friendly game too, no need for tha-” Race paused at Albert’s lack of response. 

“Hey, fire crotch, are ya even paying attention?”

The answer was no. Albert was not paying attention. Not to Racetrack, anyway. His eyes were glued on the only thing that could possibly snap him out of his trance that Jack had put him in, besides possibly Wayne Gretzky himself; a h/c haired girl walking happily with Katherine holding posters to hang up around the stands. She was smiling widely at something Katherine was saying, and Albert nearly lost his breath when she tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. Race’s eyes slowly followed Albert’s line of sight, and then a slow smirk grew across his face.

“Admiring Miss Y/n again, I see.” He said cheekily. Albert flushed pink and ran a hand through his hair, clearly embarrassed by the comment. 

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout Racer.” He replied snootily, picking up his pace towards the door. Race raised an eyebrow and glanced back at the pretty girl who was now hanging a banner at the entry of the rink, before jogging to meet up with Al and stopping him again. 

“Right,” He drawled skeptically. “You’s either making googly eyes at Y/n or Snyder, and something, call it a gut feelin’, tells me it ain’t him.” 

Both boys looked to the left of the girls and saw Snyder, the school security guard, aggressively attempting to fix their drinking fountain. Grumbling threateningly at the inanimate object, he finally threw his wrench against the fountain in frustration causing it to spray him directly in the face with water, drenching his already stringy hair. Albert cleared his throat. 

“How do you know I don’t have the hots for Snyder?” He quipped, hoping to deflect the inevitable conversation. 

Race dramatically rolled his eyes and threw his hands in the air. “Oh give me a fuckin break-”

“He’s quite the voluptuous man you know,” Albert butted in, now fully smirking at his own joke. “I don’t mind a little more to love on a guy in bed.” 

Racetrack fake gagged at the implied innuendo. ”You’s disgusting. Not just for that image of you and Snyder either, you perv. I can’t believe you just used the word ‘voluptuous’ seriously.” 

Albert snickered. “I’m a serious kinda guy.”

“Seriously in love with Y/n, you pussy. Stop deflecting.” 

“Deflecting?” Albert gasped, dramatically placing a hand over his heart, mock offendedness oozing from his tone. “I would never!”

“If you ain’t deflectin’ then I’m Whoopie Goldberg.” Racetrack replied, before giving Albert a particularly alarming smirk. “‘Sides, you’s and I both know who you’d rather see in bed.” Albert felt his face get hot at the image that was put in his head and punched Race, although clearly not hard enough as the boy was still giggling evilly. 

Rolling his eyes, Albert glanced back in the direction of Y/n, his heart fluttering. She really was beautiful, inside and out. He couldn’t understand why anyone wouldn’t take the opportunity to admire everything about her. 

“Jesus Al, you’s provin’ my point right now!” Race exclaimed, yet again interrupting his thoughts. Huffing, Albert turned back to look at his best friend.

“SO WHAT if I’m staring at her Race-”

“AHA!”

“-it’s not MY fault she’s attractive-“

“I knew it!”

“-I mean I have EYES for fuck’s sake-”

“Big red heart eyes!”

“And-no! She’s just a friend!”

“Oh sure, SURE, she’s ‘just a friend’-”

“Because she is!”

“No ‘friend’ makes Albert Dasilva as flustered as ya are now, Al.” He chided in a sing-song voice. Albert rolled his eyes and pushed Race’s head while Race cackled and tried to swat his hand away. 

“If that’s right,” Race started, “Then you wouldn’t mind if I just, you know, called her over-”

“Wait-”

“HEY Y/N!” Albert groaned and whipped his head around to where she was standing, his heart skipping a beat when she looked over and beamed, briefly making eye contact with Albert and... did her cheeks turn a little pink? Nah, Albert decided. She was farther away than he was, it must’ve been a trick of the light. 

“Hey, fellas!” She called happily, carefully stepping down from her ladder and jogging over. “How was practice today?” 

“Oh, you know, it was a total breeze.” Race said with a grin, his answer obviously clashing with their sweaty appearances. “Right, Al?” Race nudged Albert’s side and he nodded, trying to pull himself together enough to attempt a verbal response. 

“Ahem- yeah, totally. Complete lightwork.” He coughed out, managing a smile. She must’ve thought he was a total moron. Albert knew that Y/n has seen absolutely no evidence to prove his reputation in school as a confident, suave jock. His quick witted comments were famous for getting him into some harmless trouble, and yet here Albert was; a complete, blubbering idiot. 

Y/n quirked her eyebrow suspiciously. “If it was so easy,” She countered, looking specifically at Albert, “Then why’re ya cheeks so red? Looks like a hard day of practice for you boys to me.”

“Nah, that’s just Albert.” Race said with a wink. Albert shot him a look and turned to (Y/N), who had an amused look on her face. 

“Well I, uh… erm.. sunburned.” Albert stuttered, trying to ignore Race’s look of utter disgust at the excuse out of the corner of his eye. 

“I keep tellin’ ya, Al.” Race taunted. “You gotta put that SPF shit on every day, you sweet little gingersnap, you.”

“Why don’t you go wait in the car, Whoopie?” Albert snapped with a pointed look at Race, and Y/n giggled. Watching her two friends interact was always the highlight of her day, whether it was on or off the ice.

“Fine. Fine! I can tell when I’m not wanted. I’m just sayin’, body’s a temple.” Race said dramatically while walking away towards the car. Though, not before giving Albert a wink and making a heart with his hands behind Y/n’s back as he walked away. That little-

“You guys are ridiculous.” Y/n interrupted Albert’s thoughts, and he realized he probably was scowling in Race’s direction. Quickly fixing his face, he scratched the back of his head and unconsciously stepped closer to her. 

“Yeah, so I’ve been told.” He grinned. Y/n tilted her head up a bit to meet Albert’s eyes, and she couldn’t help but admire the charming curve of his smile, still present even as he was clearly out of his element, the “sunburn” still very prominent on his cheeks. This boy is too handsome for his own good, she mused inwardly. 

“Mmm. You’re gonna be playing in the game next Friday, right?” She asked hopefully. She was blissfully aware of how flustered she was making Albert at the moment - not that it was hard - and how cute it was to see him stumbling over his words for her. Y/n nearly died right then and there when he bit his lip and nodded his head. 

“Yeah, I’ll be playing for most of the night.” He answered. “Between you n’ me, Jack is considerin’ makin’ me the other assistant captain. He mentioned that some recruiters might be there too.” Smiling nervously, he picked at the handle of his bag, looking down. “I gotta play my best if I want that position.”

Y/n brightened even more, if that was even possible. 

“Albert, that’s wonderful!” She exclaimed, grabbing his arm excitedly and jumping a little. Albert laughed softly at her enthusiasm. “There is no doubt in my mind that you’re going to get it. You’re such a great player, Jack would have’ta be a downright idiot if he didn’t pick you!”

“Ah,” Albert said bashfully. “I don’t know about that.” 

“Well, I do.” She stated with finality, a smile still playing on her lips. When he didn’t say anything, she squeezed his arm and leaned forward, picking up on his underlying insecurity. “Albert.” 

He looked up and raked his eyes up her face, drinking in every dip and curve. Not even Michelangelo could sculpt something as heavenly as her, he thought. Michelangelo simply couldn’t capture her captivating aura, the genuine look in her eye that made his knees weak. Albert’s eyes finally locked with hers, and he decided not to acknowledge the double bass drum that was his beating heart. 

“You will get it. And all you’re gonna do is show Brooklyn and those recruiters how talented you really are.” 

She tilted her head, one side of her lips quirking up gently. She wanted to tell Al just how much he meant to her. That anyone that didn’t see that he was clearly a star, a player with a heart of gold and a smile that makes her want to melt into a little puddle of nothingness was a righteous idiot. 

They held eye contact for another moment, before Albert felt his blush, er, sunburn, deepen. He coughed awkwardly, breaking the silence.

“Will, uh, will you be there?” 

Y/n fully beamed now, her eyes twinkling. “I sure will. I gotta go to the games anyways for ASB, but I um,” Keeping the one hand resting on his (rather built, if she does say so herself) bicep, she used the other to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’d go watch you play anyways, even if I wasn’t gettin’ graded on it.”

His heart thrummed faster. She didn’t say ‘them,’ as in the team. She said ‘you,’ as in him, Albert Dasilva. Oh god. He had to say something, anything to make her realize how much he loved that. Should he say something flirty back? Confess? Ask her out on a date? Propose?

“Oh.”

Albert closed his eyes and mentally facepalmed. What the fuck was that? At this rate he had a better shot at breaking into Fort Knox with a pipe cleaner. As his cheeks flushed an even deeper red, Y/n smirked and stepped even closer, raising a hand to his face.

“Damn, Dasilva,” She said, gently rubbing her thumb across his cheek. “Your sunburn is gettin’ worse by the second.” 

Albert’s heart was pounding against his chest as he maintained eye contact with Y/n. Her palms were soft against his cheek, and the gentle but mischievous smile playing on her lips made him question whether or not his rapidly beating heart was really just a love-induced heart attack. She was so close, he could feel her breath fanning slightly over his face, her lashes fluttering as she moved her eyes over his features. The way she so tenderly caressed his face couldn’t possibly be a “just friends” thing, right? Not when he knew he was looking at her like he wanted to kiss her senseless in front of half the school.

Now was his chance.

Leaning forward ever so slightly, he glanced down at her lips and-

“Hey, Y/n! I could really use your help over here!” Katherine’s strained call cut in on the tension between the two. Albert looked over Y/n’s shoulder as Y/n took her hand off his face and turned around. 

“Oh God, she’s gonna fall,” She muttered under her breath.

Katherine was leaning far off the top of the wobbly ladder she was currently standing on, about to fall in an attempt to pin a large hockey banner up by herself. Before he could offer to help, Y/n’s eyes widened and she looked back at Albert with nothing but regret written all over her features.

“I’m so sorry, I gotta help her with that,” She rushed out apologetically, before running off to help her friend. “I’ll see you later, Dasilva!” She called over her shoulder.

“Yeah..” He murmured disappointedly, watching as another student quickly joined Y/n in helping Katherine down.

Well, fuck.

After standing there like a fool for a whole minute, Albert walked outside to his car where Race was waiting for him (im)patiently. Cursing himself for his missed opportunity, he threw his bag in the trunk, slammed it shut and moved towards the front of the car. Plopping himself rather aggressively in the driver’s seat, Albert slumped his head against the steering wheel and didn’t bother to move.

“Went that well, huh?” Race remarked sarcastically, looking at Albert with a raised eyebrow. He leaned closer, feigning observance.

“Hey, at least your sunburn’s lookin’ a lot better. What, you got some aloe in your pocket or somethin’?” Albert groaned miserably and Race rolled his eyes. “Do I wanna know what happened?” He asked. 

“Depends, Mr. Helpful,” Albert quipped sarcastically, head still on the steering wheel of his car. “How well can you handle what an idiot I am?”

“Try me.” 

Albert drew out a heavy sigh and reluctantly explained to Race what occurred just minutes before. 

He wasn’t surprised when Race yelled, “‘Oh’? That’s all you had to say to that? ‘Oh’?”

“I know, it’s bad-”

“Bad? Bad? You’ve surpassed ‘bad’ Al, we’re at fuckin’ catastrophic!” Race ran his hands down his face in frustration, before looking back at his best friend.

“Listen Al, watching you two pine after each other for the first few months was real cute, but this is gettin’ painful. Just stop beatin’ ‘round the bush and ask her out already.”

Albert blinked, affronted. “I am not cute.” Race cracked a devilish smile.

“Oh yes you are, my sweet little gingersnap,” He declared, pinching Albert’s cheek mockingly before Albert smacked his hand away. “And you’d be a whole lot cuter if you just grew some balls and asked her out!”

Albert rolled his eyes and started the car. “What’s it to ya, anyways, Racer?” He asked irritably, turning the steering wheel to back out. “S’not your relationship.”

“So you admit there’s a relationship?”

Albert shot Race a dirty look. Sighing, Racetrack folded his arms.

“Okay, but if you’s get together by the end of the month I get twenty bucks from like, half the team, so you need’ta plant one on her soon.” 

Albert fully turned to give Race a look that seemed to be a mixture of disgust and slight admiration.

“You fuckin’ gambling addict.”

Race just rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I’m the gamblin’ addict and you’re the asshole who won’t admit that you and Y/n are BEYOND havin’ the hots for each otha’. Looks like we both have our faults.”

Grumbling, Albert tried to distract himself by backing out of their parking spot. “She probably doesn’t even like me like that anyways, Race. She’s probably just bein’ nice; a supportive friend and all.”

“Just bein’- Albert you’re getting dumber by the second.” 

“Says you.” 

“I’m gonna choose to ignore that comment outta the kindness of my heart,” Race retorted. “Are we back at you denying this entire situation again?” 

“What situation?”

“Shut up and drive, idiot.”

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