#Happen but what also happened after that match is that the referee of that game came out as gay and everyone is so supportive of him now and

[gabigabigabby]

cristiano's daughter | j. félix

joão félix x ronaldo!footballer!reader

synopsis: joão steals your celebration as his way of telling you that goal was yours

a/n: plot is set during the euro qualifier game against luxembourg in march where he did that celebration with his arms crossed (ifykyk). joão is barça player bc it's perfect for this plot and y/n is barça femeni player. again, perfect for the plot. ALSO THANK YOU FOR 700++ FOLLOWERS, ik it's bee a while since i was on here but i really do appreciate all the love you give on my works 🥹🥹 so enjoy this one!

content/warnings: fluffy as hell, y/n taking a promise extremely seriously, dialogue in portuguese and spanish, eva and mateo being the cutest twin siblings ever, not proofread, lmk if i missed anything! 💫

🎵 streaming: infrunami - steve lacy

—

"papá nos estamos mirando. devuélvenos el saludo." gio begins talking, but you were in your football la-la-land.

i could've done a bicycle kick yesterday, you thought. it could've been my match.

don't you just love it? being in your own thoughts for the 500th time today. sense the sarcasm? "y/n," gio catches your attention, snapping you out of your head. "joão te busca, cariño." [dad is looking for us, wave back. joão is looking for you, sweetheart.]

your eyes run all over the pitch before landing on the squad, joão the second to last guy in the line-up. he sends you a wave, grinning to himself when he sees you facing him. he'd never know if you were making eye contact or not; he was just happy you were there. you wave back at him, not even bothering to hide your smile from your stepmother.

"estoy feliz de que estés feliz. y tienes suerte porque es un chico lindo," gio winks before you both share a laugh; something you missed sharing with georgina. because of your tight schedule and the fact that you play football in spain and don't live in riyadh with your parents and siblings, you'd missed out every single important thing that's happened in the ronaldo house. eva and mateo's sixth birthday, alana's first day of school, bella's first steps, junior joining the al-nassr academy. everything. "¿sabes lo que significa? bebés lindos." [i'm happy you're happy. and you're lucky because he's a cute boy. and you know what that means? cute babies.]

"mamá!" you try to stop gio from going any further. because babies? aren't you too young to be thinking about children right now? your career at barcelona had only begun to skyrocket, and joão had only recently began his season stint at the club. children and settling down should be the last thing on both your minds. although every now and then, you can't help but think about it. would you and joão last long enough for children of your own in the future? "i'm only 22." you mutter under your breath, soft enough for gio to completely miss it.

the referee's whistle snaps you out of your own thoughts — a place you'd often find yourself in when you're out of the pitch. you were worried about the fact that joão barely got to feel the ball. especially after he promised you he'd give you a strike tonight.

"no, i promise," his voice lingers around you from hours ago. "i'll make sure i get the ball, and it's yours, querida. eu prometo." [i promise]

well, he promised — and promises stick with you like gorilla glue. even at the ripe old age of 22, you still believe in pinky promises the way georgina still believes in romance movies. that's besides the point.

it was up till the point after your dad was awarded a penalty. he took it, it went in, your dad is a worldwide legend, blah blah blah. you knew it was bound to happen everytime portugal play. the game was inching up to 14 minutes as your legs begin to bounce nervously. what made it worse was that mateo was on your lap when it happened.

"querida, why are your legs shaking?" mateo's neck cranes to look at you. all you could give him was a weak smile.

"nothing, 'zinho. just nervous for papai like all of us, né?" you answer, hoping mateo will take it and leave it alone.

"you're nervous for joão." if there's one thing you could curse about mateo, it's how close he is to you, even though you no longer live with your family. on his day, mateo would feel lonely — even though he's a twin — and ask gio to facetime you. most of the time, he'd catch you at the right time; driving back home from training, going out for lunch with joão on an off day. and sometimes you wouldn't pick up, occupied with training for the upcoming game that week.

mateo would never fail to call you at least twice a month, understanding how tight your schedule is and that he has to leave you alone sometimes, afraid you'd be exhausted after a long day of training. sometimes you'd give him a call too, missing your queridinho on your day.

"não somos todos?" you nervously chuckle, your hands were resting on mateo's lap, its fingers slowly picking at your cuticles. [aren't we all?]

"si, but you're stressed," mateo pouts. "joão told me you made him promise to score tonight. and you know what, y/n? i hope he scores too." he gives you his typical mateo smile; the absolute sweetest thing you could ever see.

not even a mere few seconds later, a cross from bernardo comes in. you try to anticipate which portugal boy it'd reach. you released a breath you didn't realise you were holding when you see the ball making immediate contact with joão's head, as he nicks the ball in past the luxembourg goalkeeper.

the crowd was anticlimactic, though, you'd have to say. there is a totally valid reason for it. is joão offside or not? the referee blows his whistle, giving the goal to portugal as they now lead the game 2-0. you carefully picked mateo up as you stand, the boy's arms in the air as he celebrates the allowed goal from his hermano. you watch as joão turns to the grandstand your family is situated at.

you can only assume he's looking at you at that point, but gio turns to face you and mateo to state the obvious. "el te esta mirando!" gio screams in a whispery manner. you'd only assumed that, but you were wearing the white portugal away kit, allowing joão to identify you clear as day from the pitch compared to the rest of your family who were clad in black winter coats. you agree, the weather is a bit nippy in luxembourg.

joão looks you dead in the eye — or you assume — and crosses his arms. you immediately realise what it meant, smiling to yourself as your dad, bruno and bernardo begin to crowd him and give him words of congratulations on the smooth yet second nature goal of his.

you wait till after the game, where they defeat luxembourg 6-0 to regroup with joão and cristiano. cris, before anything, would engulf gio and bella first, giving joão full leeway to reach for you first. "did you see?!" the taste of excitement is still sweet and prominent on joão's tongue when he speaks.

"i saw! my celebration at barça. thief." you joke, pushing a fist into his bicep playfully.

"amo-te, linda. obrigado por estar aqui." joão smiles, not hesitating to squish your face into his chest. [i love you beautiful, thank you for being here]

"eu vim buscar o papai, mas tudo bem." you shrug jokingly before finding yourself in your papai's arms and listening to him thank you for coming to a portugal game — an away game, no less. [i came for dad, but okay]

#joão félix #joao felix #joão félix x reader #joao felix x reader #joao felix x you #joao felix x y/n #joao felix fluff #football #football x y/n #football x you #football x oc #football x reader

[useless-catalanfacts]

A football referee expels a coach for speaking in Catalan

Sadly this doesn't make it to most news because it's not uncommon, but I will translate this to give an idea to foreigners of the situations we have to deal with.

Yet again, another Catalan speaker has been kicked out of somewhere just because they spoke in Catalan in a Catalan-speaking country. This time, it happened in a local football camp in Petra (town in Mallorca, Balearic Islands).

While reading this story, remember that Catalan is the native language of Mallorca, and is legally recognised as a co-official language.

During a local-level football match, the football coach of the team UE Petra protested to the referee that a decision wasn't right. The referee told him "we are in Spain, Mallorca is part of Spain, not Spain part of Mallorca, and you must speak to me in Spanish". The coach continued speaking Catalan, since it's the language of the place where this is happening, and the referee proceeded to expel him. This is what the referee wrote in the match's minutes:

In the half-time, the coach [...] after perceiving my communication in Spanish and being reprimanded for addressing me with the words "this is shameful", starts speaking to me in Catalan. When I ask him to talk to me in Spanish, he continues perpetuating his dialect, where I understood some lacks of respect. Since I could not make him stop, I decide to expel him.

At the end of the minutes card, the referee wrote the reason for expelling him as "for disobeying my orders".

The other witnesses in the football match explain that the referee was very rude to the coach and never asked him politely to change to Spanish, only rudely saying "in Spanish!". Later, the referee also wrote that the coach was "perpetuating his dialect", as we have seen. Using the word "dialect" for a language that has suffered persecution, illegalization and discrimination is an extremely loaded term based on bigotry, only used by the hardcore Catalanophobes who defend that Catalan (and other discriminated languages like Basque and Galician) aren't languages because they're not important or respect-worthy enough to be a language, only a "dialect" (understood as a derogatory word).

The football club UE Petra has complained that this referee is partial and "has taken decisions, as can be seen by the wording used in the minutes, influenced on a coach using his mother tongue in the place where it has been official for centuries".

Now, a few days after the game and the UE Petra publishing a statement explaining it on their social media (you can read it here), the referee has pressed charges, claiming that she has been "threatened" when it was posted on social media. 🤦

Can you imagine if this happened to a Spanish person for speaking Spanish in Madrid? Or French in Paris, or English in London? Can you imagine if doctors threw them out for speaking Spanish in Madrid, French in Paris or English in London? Or hotels, banks, petrol stations did? If policemen identified them because speaking it was seen as lack of respect? Then why do we have to accept that it's normal when it happens to us?

You can find the statement published by this coach's football team UE Petra here (in Catalan). Some sources from newspapers who reported on it: Esport3, Ara Balears, Vilaweb.

#actualitat #català #llengua catalana #mallorca #illes balears #petra #languages #langblr #polyglot #catalan #discrimination #language rights #cultural rights #culture rights #catalanophobia #catalanofòbia #coses de la terra #spain

[retrocesosdestacion]

HOLLOW-HEARTED PHASES | daniëlle van de donk.

daniëlle van de donk x reader

genre: fluff

warnings: 🤷‍♀️

notes: written for this request.

SUMMARY: Danielle finds herself in frustration after a match. You are the only answer for her.

In a way, you are poetry material; You are full of cloudy subtleties I am willing to spend a lifetime figuring out. Words burst in your essence and you carry their dust in the pores of your ethereal individuality.

kafka.

❝ Will you tell me what happened? ❞ You don't expect Daan to be comprehensible right now. Yet it's worth a try.

❝ Nothing. It was just an misfortune. ❞ She answer in a not-so-assertive tone. It was kind of obvious how difficult it was for the Dutch woman to lie to you.

❝ It wasn't just this, you got a really bad yellow card, Liefde. ❞

Van de Donk and accident in the same situation was something common, relying on the point of view. And a lot of those times, it was funny.

She was tired, you were too; Sweating and ravenous, you too; Danielle was completely worn out from the match, and so were you. Mutually in post games, that was what made you two so close.

Playing alongside the midfielder every week managed to be entertaining, mainly due to each unusual circumstance that Danielle brought to you.

Settling such complications was your job. And at this moment was not different.

❝ At least explain it to me, please! ❞ You beg, pulling the first stool you could get and sat down in front of your partner; implying you wouldn't be leaving anytime soon until you resolved this.

❝ Do you think bumping into someone is so reckless as to get a yellow card? ❞ She started. ❝ Nowadays they are accepting anyone as a referee! ❞

She gestured every second, her dutch accent made the whole situation even funnier.

The only reaction you could have was to laugh at it all. ❝ It contigent on the intensity, actually. ❞ You say amidst giggling. ❝ And well, I know you. ❞

❝ I didn't do anything wrong! ❞ Danielle sounded like she wanted to prove a point. ❝ It’s not my fault if she unexpectedly appeared near me... ❞

❝ Okay, I take your word for it. ❞ In fact, your lips were a little erroneous, you saw how the midfielder purposely pushed the rival player at that time and could uncertainly defend Daan.

She raised her eyebrows involuntarily and jiggle her face, not hiding the evidence that she didn't fall for your fallacious chit-chat.

You gradually reached for the dutch woman's hands, probing each of her fingers; then caressing them.

Suddenly Van de Donk was equal to a carefree sea; a pelago that had just experienced a storm. The midfielder's eyes were devoted to yours, glinting more and more with each passing second.

Even though Danielle always left in a temper after incidents like this, you had the unparalleled ability to alleviate her. Whether just with your presence or caresses.

❝ How about… Next time you bump into someone more carefully, hm? ❞ You muttered, bringing your face inches closer to the midfielder. ❝ Or better yet, not bumping into the person is also a great option! ❞

Your thumbs slowly slid over the skin of other woman’s fingers, trying to comfort her while at the same time considering a clarification for all of this.

❝ In conclusion, not retaliating to a provocation is what you're telling me. ❞ Danielle articulated calmly.

❝ ...Yeah, almost that. ❞ You replied, withdrawn from your previous speech. ❝And also, you’ve been a lot… ❞

❝ Stressed? ❞ She concluded by cutting off your words, even though she was aware that such emotion was not true.

❝ I wasn't going to say that. ❞

❝ Yes, you would. ❞

You took a while to answer, since deep down it was more of a truth.

❝ No… I was going to say that you have been very frustrated and nervous lately. ❞

❝ It's the same thing. ❞ Daan had a silly smile on her face, clear how she was enjoying a game with you.

Your lips locked before commenting something, daring extra time to think of words to please her.

The palm of your left hand was the first touch to the dutch woman's face after disregarding her fingers, now giving light gentle taps. ❝ Who knows, maybe behind your little face it’s all the same! ❞

Van de Donk's fortunate laugh was delightful to hear, like a pleasant sound you rarely find amidst the chaos of an urban city; like your girlfriend.

The dutch girl got a enjoyable laugh out of your face whenever she could, and you got the occasional warm fervor. It was a cycle, and you had everything to do with it.

❝ I'll take that as a compliment. ❞ Daan articulated happily, slowly pressing her own fingers over yours; those who were snuggled against the dutch woman's face.

❝ Better now? ❞ You ask, wondering how Danielle was calmer than before.

❝ Possibly yes. ❞ She reply, inhibited by previous actions.

The shorter woman looked down demurely. But honestly, anyone gets irritated, especially by situations like this. Daan had every right to be upset about this, after all, you would be there.

Your fingers, from both of your hands, placed themselves on the other woman's face. You compress lightly so that you could move the other person's face closer to you.

Danielle had her typical confused look, but also aware of the affectionate attitude. A short beam shines on your face, accompanied by a pleasant chuckle before your lips touch the other person's skin.

You placed a short peck on the tip of the dutch woman's nose, immediately going to her lips, giving her another peck. Centimeters away from the other person's face, being able to even feel de Donk's warm and agitated breath.

❝ If that's okay, how about we get together with the girls, then we go out for drinks and find something to eat. ❞ You murmur after the affectionate act.

❝ If you say so… We can. ❞ Daan answer, sounding like she's still trying to recover from the affection; with the silly smile printed on her face. ❝ To be honest, I'm hungry. ❞

One or twenty years can pass, the dutch woman always becomes the silliest person in the world when she receives your affection.

❝ How about that new restaurant that just opened? ❞ You make a suggestion. ❝ Vanessa felt like eating pasta these days! ❞

Despite Van de Donk being a difficult woman to deal with on the pitch, off there and for you, it was like an easy puzzle to put together.

Danielle could stress a thousand times, but you would always get her back no matter what.

❝ Sounds fun! ❞ She responds one last time before gradually rising from the bench where she was sitting.

The midfielder pulled your hands, so she could help you when you got up. It didn't take long for you to act and do the same, even though you were extremely tired.

Daan still had her index fingers intertwined with yours, her eyes needed to make minimal effort when looking up, where she could look affectionately at you.

She took a while to say something, and honestly, Danielle's eyes darted to your face and without saying anything made you a little nervous.

You gave a confused grin.

❝ Thank you for that. ❞ Van de Donk mutters.

❝ …For what, exactly? ❞

❝ For being with me, by my side. I don't know how I would react to things without you. ❞ She articulates through the small laughs she lets out.

Without realizing it, your confused smile became happy, small compliments coming from your girlfriend were a relief; a victory.

Your silly smirk that burned your cheeks didn't allow you to answer, but made you act embarrassed. Your lefty raised up, so you could try to camouflage this stupid smile.

❝ Why are you smiling so much?! ❞ Daan chortled, tilting her head confusedly to the side.

❝ Nothing, nothing. ❞

ᅠ

#woso #danielle van de donk x reader #danielle van de donk #daan x reader #devd x reader

[sleekswosobession]

north london is-

celin bizet x fem!reader

request: here

A/N: i love spurs (please don’t hate me)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Today was a big day, North London derby day. It’s a must win game for Arsenal if the team is to stay 2nd on the table (if Man City win their game) and also to brag about North London being red.

As much as you hated Spurs with a passion, you could never hate your girlfriend. Celin was everything you needed, but as always the task right now is to beat them. Be better.

You didn’t run into her a lot of the field, being on the other side as a right-winger, same position as her.

You line-up in the tunnel, confident in your ability to do what’s needed to beat the lilywhite side of London. You look at the team next to yours and meet Cel’s look, you mouth a ‘good luck’ along with a smirk before turning and walking out onto the field.

The game is rough, rougher than the Chelsea match, Arsenal is keeping possession but Tottenham’s defence and keeper are absolutely incredible. There’s obvious tension between the two teams but nothing too bad as of yet.

At half-time it’s 0-0, Leah is giving you all a talk and she seems really annoyed.

“Who the fuck are we? Arsenal. We have never lost a fucking North London derby ever, so don’t make this the first, am I clear?” Hums of agreement scatter through the room.

“I will not allow this team to lose to a team so fucking behind, let’s go.” She finishes, you nod fully agreeing with everything she’s saying.

You go back out with more passion, harsher passes and more physicality. Spurs do similar. It’s in the 58th minute when it all comes crashing down. Marta Thomas shoots and it hits the back of the net. She’s celebrating with her team while yours feels shattered.

You try not to let it bother you but ultimately, it’s getting you in the head. It’s clear the Lilywhites pick up on it and start targeting you a lot more.

When the 83rd minute rolls around, Grace Clinton shoves you a little too hard and you immediately react by shoving her back. It leads to a brawl in which you’re holding each other by the shirts.

“Fuck you Clinton!” You bash, as players come over to seperate you, along with the referee.

“Don’t come at me when you’re the one who can’t take a little shove.” She pushes you back and you stumble. If the look on your face was anything to go by, you are really fucking mad. Just as you’re about to make a countermove, someone is in front of you.

That someone so happens to be your girlfriend.

“Hey, it’s not worth it. Don’t get a red or make it worse for yourself.” Her voice is stern and her Norwegian accent slips out stronger. You huff, walking away ignoring your teammates and looking at the ref who gives both you and Grace yellows.

When the full-time whistle blows, you collapse on the field. Arsenal has lost. Arsenal has fucking lost for the first time ever. You can feel the tears that are threatening to fall. North London is… white and God it pains you to think that.

You’re brought out of your trance by two pairs of boots in front of you, looking up to see Cel and Grace.

“Hey, sorry about uhh pushing you and stuff like that.” Grace says, scratching her neck.

“All good, all apart of the derby am I right?” She nods and it looks like your girlfriend agrees too.

“Well, I’ll leave you two too it.” With that she walks away to where Beth and Jess are celebrating.

“You played really well today.” Cel says, sitting down next to you.

“We still lost, we shouldn’t have.” You sigh, annoyed at everything to do with the game.

“Yeah well, I disagree. After this I’ll drive you home and we can watch movies and order in, sound good?” You nod your head and rest it agaisnt her shoulder until you’re called over to be with your team.

- - - - -

At home, you immediately plop onto the couch. Exhausted from playing 90 minutes and stoppage time.

“What food do you want?” Cel asks.

“Is that Mexican place open? I want nachos.” She nods putting in the other before going to sit with you.

“So what do you wanna watch?” She pulls you into her, so her arms can wrap around your whole body.

“Hunger Games? We can binge them all.” She laughs softly.

“Alright, or as many until you fall asleep.”

“True.”

You start watching the movie and around 20 minutes later the food arrives, you feast and it’s like the game is being pushed to the back of your mind. You feel better with Celin.

By the end of watching the second movie, you’re asleep and Celin takes the opportunity to lift you up and place you in bed. She gets in not long after, and even while you’re unconscious you’re trying to find her in the sheets.

She smiles, cuddling into you and also falling asleep.

—————————————————————————

anon i hope ur happy with this, and it was also very fun to write 🤭 gives me a break from all the other barca things i have to write

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso fanfics #spurs women #celin bizet x reader #celin bizet #norwnt #norwnt x reader

[ell-alexanderarnold]

Still in Paris

Summary: Trent breaks down the season with Y/n when he comes home after the last game of the season.

Fluff

Note: This boy deserves the world ❤️

﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋

A loud sigh came out from you when the referee blown the whistle. It’s finally over. A difficult season with both good and bad moments, many nights of comforting your boyfriend who’s been taking a lot off shit from the media. Many nights of Trent lashing out on you after a bad match, there’s also many nights of making love after a good match.

You sat patiently waiting for Trent to come home, you figured it would take some time so you decided to kill the time and went out for a walk with the dogs.

The birds were chirping and you could feel the spring breeze and relief flowing through your body. Trent could finally rest now you thought, without having to worry about what people will say about him. You’ve been there for him through everything, and it’s been a long season so you’re glad it’s over.

You came home after walking the dogs and Trent wasn’t home yet. You were missing him, you wanted him to know how proud you are of him that he’s done his best throughout the whole season.

You know he’d be hungry so you started cooking his favourite meal, even though you weren’t the best cook you still managed to finish it without any obstacles.

The hours felt like days and your ears were eager to hear the sound of the door opening, and at last it finally happened. Trent was home.

You rushed to the hall to hug your boyfriend who was tired and exhausted from a long season.

“Welcome home my love” You greeted and hugged him, Trent rested his head on your shoulder and you stood there for a while.

“You’ve done so well T, so well” You whispered as he pecked your forehead before taking off his shoes and jacket.

“Have you cooked something? It smells really nice” Trent wondered and you giggled, took his hand and led him to the kitchen where his favourite meal were.

“Thank you babe, I really appreciate it” He smiled and took his bowl of spaghetti carbonara to the dinner table.

You sat down and joined him at the dinner table, watching him eat up your homemade food. He looked up at you and smiled, but you could see that something was bothering him. It couldn’t be the food you thought, so you figured that he was just tired from a long season.

”I’ll go and have a shower” Trent said after putting his dish in the dishwasher.

While Trent was in the shower you finished cleaning up the mess you made in the kitchen, at the same time your mind was full of thoughts. You were overthinking, what if he didn’t like the food? What if you’ve said something wrong during the past few days? You tried to calm yourself down but it didn’t work out, at this point you knew the only thing who could help you calm down was talking to Trent.

You walked upstairs to him and opened the bedroom door, seeing him sitting in the bed with a frown on his face.

You sat down beside him on the bed and stroke his arm as he closed his phone and paid his attention to you. His head was again on your shoulder and he let out a big sigh which made you more concerned, so your heart needed answers.

“Trent, what’s bothering you?” You thoughtfully asked and looked him in the eyes, the brown big eyes who looked furious and sad.

“Nothing, I’m tired” He simply answered and you instantly knew that was a lie.

“Trent, I know somethings up” You pushed and sighed as he ran his hands over his face in frustration.

“Tell me baby, I don’t want you to feel like this” You consoled and stroke his back, feeling helpless.

“I’m just not happy how the season turned out Y/n” He admitted and you immediately wrapped your arms around him, feeling his hand on your arm and soft sniffles from him.

“Oh Trent, I’m sorry” You comforted and he continued to cry a little before you wiped off his tears from his cheeks.

“You did your best, that’s all you can do. I’m really proud of you alright?” You explained and he cut you off.

“Yes but I feel like I’ve let the fans down and I-

“No T you haven’t let them down baby, you’re enough” You affirmed.

“I’m tired from all the media bullshit, they’ve been chatting about me the whole fucking season, and now in the end they have good things to say, Y/n I don’t understand” Trent cried out as you felt your heart shatter a little. You knew he’s been under a lot of stress this season, you could count how many times you’ve told him to not go on Twitter and read all the things everyone has said about him. It hurt you to see him so low and still have to go on playing football when he said to you that it felt like the whole world was against him.

“Shh it’s okay Trent it’s over now” You reassured and he nuzzled his face against your chest.

“It feels like a part of me is still in Paris”

You could feel your heart sink remembering how the final went and sad Trent was after losing it. Seeing him walk by the trophy with a disappointed face made you wanna go out on the pitch and take him home with you, so you could just hug him and try to make him forget what happened.

“You know everything time when I’m involved in a goal I feel like I am standing on that pitch in Paris, it still hurts Y/n” Trent revealed and you didn’t know what to say other than to continue stroking his back.

You were grateful for the moment you were having. It is rare for you to see Trent like this and opening up to you. You were glad it did happen because you wouldn’t want him to carry all this weight by himself.

“What defines us is how we rise after we fall Trent, remember that. I mean look at you now at the end of the season, you’ve been amazing for the team and even slowly converting to a new role” You noted and felt a kiss on your cheek, you turned to Trent and kissed him back and laid your head on his chest.

“I really don’t deserve you Y/n” Trent whispered in your ear and played with your hair. You could feel how you slowly started to get more and more drowsy and eventually, you fell asleep on Trent who was filled with your love and your wise words that will keep him motivated.

He has done his best and he couldn’t have done it without you by his side.

#trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold #england x reader #footballer x reader #trent alexander arnold fluff #trent imagine #trent x reader #football imagine #trent alexander arnold one shot #trent alexander arnold fanfic #trent alexander arnold imagines #trent alexander arnold fic #liverpool fc #football fluff

[futbol16]

 Mi Corazón  • Alexia Putellas

Finally got to this request, hope you enjoy!

Request: “Inspired by todays very dangerous clash of the Saudian player and they just let him lay there for too long. Mapi’s little sister is also on the team and usually pranks the girls during games. When its her on the ground after a clash with the keeper, mapi and engen + the other girls think its a joke, Alexia from the sidelines notices and even injured and on the bench is the one letting out the screaming and the one rushing to her aid and turning her on her back and saving Y/N from choking. Mapi feels terrible, so do others”

Word count: 1.5k

As you watch the Real Sociedad player score, you realize you might have underestimated this a bit. Although the ball possession was definitely Barcelona’s, that didn’t stop the opposing team from scoring the first goal of the match. 

The second half does go better though and you’re satisfied with your work when you manage to assist Marta and she scores the equalizer for Barca. From then on, you make sure to put in the extra effort of taking the ball away from any Real Sociedad player, intercepting almost every pass they make. 

You were living up to your name as a León, your sister prouder than ever as the opponents huff frustratedly. Mapi also makes an appearance as she assists the second and final goal of Barca which is eventually headed into the net by Lucy. You celebrate the brunette by jumping on her back, almost ending up on her shoulders. After all, it had been the second goal of not only the team but her goals for the club as well. 

The game goes into stoppage time with five minutes added to the clock but it doesn’t bother you, because Barca keep showing why they’re the best.

Real Sociedad aren’t about to give up either and they continue their attempts on goal. Their shots get saved by Panos and her gloved hands expertly though, until the ball isn’t the only round thing being blocked.

It happens so unexpectedly as the rival team player chips the ball towards another one and you’re ready to intercept, but Sandra is there too. Sandra and her knee, you and the ball. It’s a race which you know the winner of and it is surely not you. You don’t even realize what’s happening before your head goes flying back and with it your body. Sandra braces herself as she lands on the ground roughly, nowhere near as rough as you had.

You lay there for a second, at least that’s what your team thinks is happening. And you couldn't blame them for it. Your last few training sessions were filled with you acting hurt on the pitch, making fun of your sister and her girlfriend for thinking you had gotten seriously hurt when you tripped over your own feet. 

Mapi shakes her head at your antics, it was silly of you to do this during a match, but to be fair time was running out quickly and Barca was leading. You could catch a breather. 

And with that thought your team keeps running up the field, not sparing another glance at you, otherwise they would have noticed that perhaps you had been laying on the ground far too long. Or the fact that your body isn’t moving. Or-

Alexia’s screaming. Mapi laughs under her breath, her mind not registering what’s happening just yet. Alexia is screaming. Alexia is- ALEXIA IS SCREAMING?

The whole of the Barcelona team turns towards where their captain is rushing to their goal, screaming at their goalkeeper to do something. The Real Sociedad players stop too, the referee stops as well. The whole stadium freezes. What was happening? Why was an injured player yelling like a lunatic and running onto the field?

That’s when Mapi’s mind catches up with her senses for a second time as her eyes spot a familiar figure on the turf, or well, still splayed out on the turf. And then it’s like her legs move on their own accord as she runs towards you.

Alexia is first to reach you though, the worst of thoughts filling her head as you’re still not moving and turning to the side. Upon reaching you she notices the weird shape your nose had shifted into and then the blood. You can taste the blood running into your mouth from your nose, you try to cough it out but you’re simply too weak. 

If it weren’t for Alexia, you’re sure you would have drowned in your own blood that minute, but Alexia is your angel, your saving grace and once she’s certain there’s nothing else for you to choke on, she moves you to your back. Tears are flowing from her cheeks at a rapid rate as your body is still unresponsive.

By now Mapi is standing above you as well, her own tears mixing with sweat, hands shaking as she has no idea what to do. 

It takes the medical team way too long to arrive at the scene but as they do finally get there, you’re examined quickly and the two girls next to you gasp a breath of relief as you hold up a thumbs up. 

It was a weak attempt at it but nonetheless it meant you were going to be okay. 

Alexia doesn’t let go of your hand the whole way as they take you off the field and Mapi is left standing next to a patch of blood on the grass. Her stomach turning at the sight and how her corazón, how you had looked to be in so much pain. 

Ingrid shares the same thoughts, spiraling like your sister. She had been the closest to where you went down, other than Panos, she could have ran back to check on you. 

 Sandra is a whole different story as she sits with her head in her hands, softly crying into her gloves. She refuses to get up for the last two minutes of the match, forever thankful that the ball was kept on the opponents’ side of the field. She blames herself for making such a mistimed save when she knew you would have helped her with it anyways. 

The last two minutes of the match the Barcelona team play with worry written all over their faces and when the final whistle is blown, none of them celebrate for long, choosing to instead get to the medical to see you.

Your nose is moved back to its original shape which doesn’t stop the swelling, you looked like you had a large eggplant in place of a nose. When you get back to reality, of course your first demand is a kiss from your girlfriend, something that gets Alexia laughing and you grin back at her.

 Mapi is told to go first, you were her little sister after all and Ale was already in there with you. As the blonde reaches the door the first thing she hears is your laughter soon accompanied by her capitana’s and she momentarily leans her forehead against the door, happy to know that you were fine.

Tears were already pooling in her eyes again, but when she sees your bruised face it’s hard to keep those tears from falling. Her hands replace Alexia’s that were cupping your cheek just seconds ago and you lean into your sister’s touch, gently smiling up at her. It was your way of reassuring her that you were doing well, at least much better than you had a rough ten minutes ago. 

Alexia watches with a fond smile of her own as you connect your foreheads and Mapi’s tears finally fall. This wasn’t her first time witnessing the famous León forehead touch, but her chest warmed at the thought of you allowing her to see this special moment with your sister.

“Lo siento, mi corazón, lo siento.” she mumbles to you, you don’t understand what she’s sorry for, it hadn’t been her fault after all, but you knew she needed this right now so you don’t interrupt her.

Eventually the three of you end up in a pile of tangled limbs on the small medical bed, both girls careful to not touch your broken nose.

Mapi forgets that there are at least 20 girls behind the door of the medical room, waiting to be let in to see you and your teammates looked at each other questioningly when the room has gone completely silent a couple of minutes ago.

Eventually Patri takes it upon herself to slowly open the door and your friends are met with the adorable sight of the three of you fast asleep, cuddled up to each other.

It was consoling to know that you were safe, sandwiched between the two older girls, Alexia’s hand firmly held in your own.

Even so, Sandra and Ingrid offer to give you piggy back rides to everywhere for the next few days, claiming they needed to make up for not checking on you sooner. You don’t complain though because what’s more fun than seeing the top of your teammates head? It was payback for all the teasing about your height.

#woso x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #futbol16

[leennaan]

It's the anon that requested the Klara fic I loved and definitely would love more fics of her maybe another one like an enemies to lovers one

Sorry that it took me so long to write this.

It was definitely harder as I first imagined and a challenge for me.

I hope you like it even tho I struggled at some parts😬

It is not proofread as I just wanted to get this one out😅

So enjoy ☺️

I hate that I love you/ Klara Bühl

You had met Klara for the first time while on international duty. She playing for the German U15 national team and you for the English.

Her position as a left forward and you as a right back meant that your paths crossed on various times during the match.

The game wasn’t going after your liking with Germany being 2:0 in front in the 80th minute and when Klara once again made a run into your own box you dived into a tackle you knew was ill timed. You completely missed the ball and instead crashed into Klara with your studs up,

who almost instantly screamed in pain.

You were quick to apologize but were almost immediately pushed back by a furious looking Sydney.

Once the medics were on the field and tending to Klara the referee turned her attention to you and showed you a red. Normally not someone to accept a referees decision easily this time you made your way off the pitch instantly. Not caring what your teammates said to you you made your way back to the changing room as fast as you possibly could.

Once inside you kicked the bench hard, angry tears leaving your eyes.

You never wanted to hurt her or any one. And you did just that. Not only did you severely injure another player, you also caused your team to loose 3:0 as they had to play one player down.

After the game you tried to apologize once again but the German players said that Klara was already brought to the hospital as she had a few bad cuts down her leg that would most likely need a few stitches.

So you tried to apologize via Instagram leaving a message in her DMs but she never replied to you. As there was nothing else you could really do you left it at that.

——————

The next time that the two of you met was at the U17 World Championship 2016 in Jordan. After loosing 3:0 in the quarterfinal against Japan you and a few of your teammates decided to have a little get together in the common room of your hotel.

Only the thing was that you were sharing said common room with the German team which had a similar idea after loosing their own quarterfinal match against Spain.

You yourself had almost forgotten about the incident that happened almost two years ago but Klara clearly hadn’t.

As soon as she saw you a scowl appeared on her face. She turned to Sydney who was walking behind her and started to say something to the brunette. Now Sydney also looked over to you and you instantly looked in a different direction.

Over the course of the night the two teams mixed together, everyone enjoying the night and having fun. Everyone expected you.

You often felt the eyes of the younger German player on you hard and angry eyes starring at you.

Later on in the evening Klara appeared next to you effectively scaring you as she growled into your ear.

“You know I was surprised to still see you play for England. I wasn’t expecting them to need someone who isn’t even able to perform a clean tackle.”

Her words hitting you hard as you praised yourself for staying on your feet most of the times.

“What do you want? I know the tackle was bad. I apologized instantly, I was punished for it and I learned to do better. What else do you expect me to do?” You scowled at her. Fed up with Klaras behavior.

Before she could respond you had left the room.

Not knowing that the two of you would meet again later on in life in one of the most important games in both of your careers.

——————

Fast forward you were walking out into a sold out Wembley Stadium in the final of the Euros 2022.

Taking place on the bench next to your best friends Lotte and Alessia, you took it all in.

Goosebumps appearing on your arms as the anthems were played.

When you looked at the players that were sitting on the German bench you couldn’t help but be drawn to the women that obviously hated you even after all those years.

Nonetheless you felt bad for her, not wishing anyone to miss out on such an important match.

For a few seconds your eyes met. You send her a sympathetic smile and for a moment it looked like Klara had forgotten who she was looking at as she send you a half smile back before she released what she did and a scowl that you knew too well appeared again on her face. Still you couldn’t help but think that she was beautiful.

——————

A few weeks after England had won the Euros you were sitting next to Georgia in a plane on your way to Munich. The both of you had signed with Bayern just before the start of the Euros.

“What if they don’t like me? Yo know that Klar hates my guts since that one game and we just won against a majority of them in the final. This was a really bad idea. I should have never signed.” You were fiddling with your rings.

“Stopping worrying. You know you are a good player and a good person. Bayern wouldn’t have signed us if they didn’t think we were that good. And just because Klara is a b*tch for still hating you for a silly mistake you made when you were fifteen does not mean they all are. And you still got me.”

Georgia pulled you into a hug and you relaxed slightly, not quite able to stop worrying entirely.

The first thing you heard when you stepped into your new changing room

With G was Klara. “What is she doing here?”

The players weren’t informed of your guys signing to surprise them but while most of the team looked excited to have you and G here Klar most definitely wasn’t.

You instantly felt bad, once again second guessing your transfer.

Luckily for you, your new trainer Alexander

interfered.

“Y/n and Georgia have signed a contract for the next few years and we are really lucky to have them play with us and not against us. I want you all to be friendly to each other. That includes you Klara.”

Klara grumbled slightly before she murmeld a quiet apology.

Against your hopes Klara still hated you even after almost a whole month that you played at Munich now.

You often caught yourself staring at her. And more than once did you find that the younger girl was already looking at you.

You hated to admire that she was really beautiful.

Which made you even sadder that the girl would not talk to you besides the necessary football talk.

She would run into you by ‚ accident’ or push you over in training always accompanied with sneer in your direction. „I am so sorry Y/n I totally misjudged how fast I was.“ Her sarcastic words hurting more than you admitted.

While you had made friends with a lot of your teammates Klara was obviously not one of them. But what surprised you was that Sydney had become one of your best friends.

So one evening when Sydney had invited you and a few other teammates, Klara not being one of them, to cook together you asked her why Sydney’s best friend still hated you.

“ I can’t help you Y/n. I have known Klara for a very long time and she is normally one of the sweetest human beings I know. I only know that she had a few problems with her leg after you tackle. She had to miss a few games and after she was cleared to play again she was scared to go into 1 v 1 which resulted in her being benched and only having a few minutes of game time for the reminder of the season but i can’t imagine that she hates you only for this.”

You nodded along to what Sydney said, once again feeling angry at yourself for misjudging the tackle.

“I never wanted to hurt her. I felt so bad that day. I was benched for the next four games even tho I was only suspended for one. I tried everything to apologize to Klara but she ignored me completely so the only thing I could do was to learn from my mistakes.”

“And you did. You are a remarkable defender. I don’t think I know another defender who stays on her feet and still recovers the balls as often as you.”

The slightly taller girl pulled you into a side hug. Never one to just accept a compliment you blushed.

“Leah thought me that. She took me under her wing when I first joined the senior squad. If you ask me she is one if not the best defender there is right now.”

That evening you decided to find out why Klara hated you so much.

The next day at training you waited for Klara in the changing room, as she was the last one to finish after having to stay on the pitch because Alexander wanted to talk for her.

„Why do you hate me so much?“ You asked her once she entered the room.

Totally surprised Klara just stared at you. „What?“

„Why do you hate me so much?“

You asked me again.

„Why do you care so much?“ she asked back and you couldn’t believe her.

„Because I don’t understand it. Yes I made a mistake but for crying out loud that was almost ten years ago! I apologized multiple times and you still hate me!“

You shouted. Sick of Klaras behavior. Yes she was the the one physically hurt that day but that didn’t mean that the way she treated you didn’t hurt you.“

„For you it was just a bad day. For me it was bad years that followed.“

She growled. Her face had turned red and she looked furious.

„That’s not true! I now that your season did not end as you wished for but mine did not as well. I was out for four matches afterwards and I refused to go into any sort of tackle the next games I played wich resulted in me being dropped to the second team at my club so don’t tell me you were the only one affected.“

You shouted at her now angry yourself.

Klara was still looking at you with so much hate in her eyes that you had to swallow a lumb that had formed in your throat.

„You know what. I don’t care anymore. Hate me all you want. I had seen some of your games before we played against each other. I thought you played amazing and hoped that maybe we could become friends. Even now I still had hope that maybe we could still become friends but I clearly thought wrong. As long as it does not affect my football I don’t care anymore.“

With that you started to leave. But just before you could walk out of the door Klara stopped you.

„Wait. I…I don’t hate you.“ she whispered and you couldn’t believe what you just heard. „I am sorry. What?“

„I don’t hate you.“ she repeated.

„I hate my self for how I treated you. Yes at first I hated you. I blamed you for my season and also the teasing I received in school for the scars. But then I was just scared to stop hating you. I didn’t want to accept that I was wrong in the way I treated you.“

Now Klara was crying and you heart broke a bit for the younger girl.

„But why? I always just wanted you to stop hating me.“

Slowly you had walked to Klara and had rapped your arms around her. At first her body tensed, before she relaxed into you.

„Because I.. because at some point I stopped hating you and… I… I started to watch your games and I saw how amazing you played and I.. I thought that you looked beautiful and suddenly I was scared what others would think and than I saw you again at the euros and I said to my self that I’ll apologize to you but than you won and I was just so heartbroken and sad and angry at my self that I couldn’t play so I once again started to hate you for it. And the you stood in this room and I just I couldn’t see you so soon and my thoughts were all over the place.“

You watched as Klara started to rumble about her feelings.

„Hey hey. Breath, everything is fine. Just breath“ Trying to calm her down you looked into her brown eyes, trying hard not to get lost in them.

„And I hated that i stared to fall in love with you.“

Your heart stopped when you heard Klara say those words to you.

„You what?“

„I started to fall in love with you. I am in love with you.“

And before Klara could start her rumbling again you kissed her.

The kiss was full of passion. Butterflies erupted in your stomach when Klara pushed you up against the wall. A moan escaping your lips when she slightly bit down on it.

When air became necessary she pulled away, your bodies still tightly pressed against each other.

„I hated that you hated me. Because I think I had a crush on you from the moment I saw you. That is why I cared so much.“ You said slightly out of breath and with blushed cheeks before you pulled her into another searing kiss.

You were interrupted by Syd, who came into the looker room looking for Klara because they where supposed to drive home together.

„Finally I am sick of this whole fake hate between the two of you. It was almost painful to watch you two love sick puppies steeling glances at each other and not realizing that you were undressing each other not hating the other.“

#klara bühl x reader #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #Klara Bühl Imagine #klara bühl #Klara buhl #fc bayern frauen #alessia russo #georgia stanway #england lionesses #dfb Frauen

[justagalwhowrites]

Beautiful from New in Town definitely becomes a massive Longhorns fan after a while.

She gets so into the games now, she spots things in the game before the boys. She argues with them about referee decisions and draft picks.

Joel is so turned on by the whole thing. When isn’t he though?

Whenever Joel tells her how much he loves it she just says “oh i had this really handsome guy show me the ropes at a game a while back” smirking.

AHHH BESTIE!

OH THIS IS FULLY CANON NOW OK??? 110% CANON.

Also I've been watching college football with my husband all day so I couldn't not write this.

LOVE YOU!

Game Time

You watch the Longhorns game with your fiance Joel. A New in Town one shot.

We are going to pretend that Joel is yelling Hook 'em in this GIF, OK? Ok.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader (from New in Town)

Warnings: SMUT :D. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only

Length: 1.6k

“Oh come ON!” You were on your feet, yelling so loud at the TV that your throat was starting to hurt. Your fingers were so tight to the bottle of Shiner in your hand that you could feel the pressure of the glass on your nails. “What the fuck was that?” 

“What?” Tommy asked, still on the couch and already recovered from the brief disappointment from the Longhorns not able to keep Oklahoma from converting on a third down when they were still in their own territory. 

“That missed holding call!” You looked down at him and back at the TV. “Our guy was trying to turn and he couldn’t and they just let it happen, no laundry, nothing. What the fuck! Such bullshit.” 

You flopped back down on the couch with a huff, shaking your head as Joel looked at you, an amused expression on his face. 

“Don’t know what you’re so happy about,” you took a sip of beer. “They should be back 15 yards between that penalty and yards gained on that down. I swear if they score on this drive…” 

You’d become a college football fan since you’d gone to the first game with Joel and Tommy two years earlier. Part of it, you were sure, was because that first game would always be a glowingly happy memory for you. It was the first time you’d told Joel you loved him and the first time he said it to you in return, after all. The fact that you hadn’t even known what a down was before the kickoff hadn’t mattered. 

But Joel had also lovingly, patiently explained the game to you as it all unfolded on the field below and you absorbed it all. You’d always been a quick study and it helped that Joel loved the game, getting so excited about it that the happy look on his face anytime the Longhorns came up was plenty of encouragement to learn. 

You watched the game every Saturday with Joel and Tommy - and sometimes Sarah, too, now that she was back in Austin - and you quickly had a good grasp of the sport and the players. You kept your phone close so you could Google terms you didn’t know if Joel was too absorbed for you to want to ask him. You had a player roster pulled up at the start of the game so you could match the numbers on the screen to the person and their position. 

It had quickly gone from something you did because your then-boyfriend, now-fiance loved it to something you loved, too. 

“It looks like there was a missed holding call there,” one of the commentators said as the replay went on, rewinding again and playing it. “Right there…” they circled it on the screen and Tommy laughed. 

“Shit, Joel, your girl knows more about football than the refs do!” 

“Low fuckin’ bar this game,” you muttered and Joel took your unoccupied hand, pulling it to his mouth to press a kiss to the inside of your wrist. You frowned, looking at him. “What?” 

He smiled and laughed a little. 

“What, a man’s not allowed to kiss his fiancee now and then?” 

You were about to reply when play started again and you got distracted. 

You were glued to the TV until the half and Joel excused himself. You were checking your email when you got a text from Joel. 

“Come to the bedroom,” it said. “Need help with something.” 

You frowned and set your empty beer down before calling to Tommy in the kitchen to ask him to grab you another and going to find Joel. 

“What do you…” you asked as you closed the bedroom behind you, but Joel didn’t give you a chance to finish. He grabbed you and pulled you into him, kissing you firm and deep, his tongue delving into your mouth. You opened for him, your arms going around his neck as you pressed yourself against him until you were breathless and separated from him. “ What’s this…” 

“Couldn’t not fuck you after hearin’ you talk about football like that,” he panted, voice needy. “One of the hottest damn things I’ve ever heard come out of that pretty mouth of yours…” 

He pulled you further into the room and you half-heartedly tried to take your hand back as he did. 

“Joel!” You hissed. “Tommy’s here! Sarah’s coming over for the second half and…” 

“Better be quick, then,” he said, tugging you to be in front of your dresser, a large mirror standing on the back of it. He shoved your skirt up around your waist and tugged your panties down, leaving them to fall to the floor once they were to your knees. He took you by the waist and put you on top of the dresser, your underwear going from around your ankles to off you completely. 

“Joel, this is going to be the damn BBQ all over again!” You protested as he ran a finger over your already wet slit. “You know we can’t be quiet…” 

“Tommy can deal,” he said, sliding a finger into you and you moaned, dropping your head to his shoulder. “You really gonna tell me you don’t want this?” 

His thumb brushed your clit and you shuddered against him. 

“No,” you panted. “But I swear if your brother hears us…” 

“Better be quiet and quick then,” he said, unzipping his jeans and freeing his thick length. You spread your legs wide and looked down to where Joel was trailing his drooling tip over you. 

“Joel,” you moaned, all quiet and breathy. “Fuck…” 

He slid into you in one swift motion with a satisfied grunt and you gasped at the intrusion, your walls making room for him. 

“Fuck, you feel so fuckin’ good,” he groaned, looking down at where he was buried inside you. “Look so pretty takin’ this cock… Don’t know how I got so lucky, getting a woman who feels this good and looks this good who loves football, goddamn….” 

He started fucking into you then, the thrusts hard and fast and deep. He pushed your thighs open wide and ran his hands up your legs to your center, his thumb brushing your clit. You moaned and he captured your mouth with a bruising kiss, his thumb pressing more firmly against you. 

“Gotta be quieter than that, beautiful,” he panted once he pulled away from your lips again. “Not if you want to keep what I’m doing to you in here to ourselves.” 

You whimpered but kept quiet, your orgasm building fast. Joel knew exactly how to fuck you now, exactly where inside you to touch with his almost punishing rhythm. Your channel started to tighten around him and you keened and pulled yourself up so that your chest was flush against him. His hands moved from your slit to your back, tucking your hips so your clit was pressed against his skin with every stroke. 

“Think you can be quiet if I make you come?” He panted into your ear. You just nodded against him. “Good, because I’m making you come all over me either way, need to feel this tight little pussy come all over me.” 

You pressed your mouth into his shoulder as you moaned, digging your nails into his back as Joel adjusted his angle ever so slightly, finding the best spots deep inside of you, making your body tighten more and more around him, the tension of aching pleasure drawing tighter and tighter until your whole body hurt with it. 

“There you go,” he said, breathless. “C’mon Baby, come on me, want to feel you milk my cock, you’re so close, just come for me, come all over me.” 

Your mouth was flush against his shoulder as you came with a desperate moan. Joel thrust deep and held himself inside as your sex fluttered and pulsed around him.

“Fuck you feel so fuckin’ good,” he groaned. “Gonna fill you up, gonna….” 

He clenched is jaw and came, his cock throbbing and pumping his come into you as he clutched you close and tight. 

Joel held you like that for a minute after you both finished and he pulled back just enough to kiss you tenderly as he slid out of you. 

“Stay put,” he ordered, grabbing a towel out of the laundry bin and wiping you clean before slipping your panties back up your legs to your knees. “Already sending you out there looking all fucked out, can’t leave you a mess, too…” 

“I do not!” You protested and he laughed once before nodding to the mirror over your shoulder. You twisted to look at yourself and yeah, your pupils were blown and your lips were swollen from where he’d kissed you to keep you quiet. You looked back at him and leveled him with a glare. “This is all your fault!” 

“Think it’s more yours,” he smiled, like he was trying to keep from laughing. “You’re too damn sexy, talking about football like that.” 

“And I can’t resist you when you proposition me,” you said, sliding off the dresser and tugging your panties up and your skirt down. “One of us needs to learn how to keep their pants on…” 

“Don’t look at me,” he smiled, kissing your temple. “Don’t think I’ll ever be able to resist you.” 

“So we’re doomed,” you sighed but smiled. “Come on, Miller, before we miss the start of the third quarter. We’re receiving and I’m keeping my fingers crossed for a hell of an opening drive…” 

“Keep talkin’ like that and we’re not leaving this room,” he said. 

“You’re just going to have to keep it together for the Longhorns’ sake,” you winked. 

He smiled back. 

“I’ll do my best.”

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #kit answers #send asks #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #smut fic #joel miller x oc #new in town

[legobiwan]

Another crossover SM:RPG and SPM idea...

For "reasons" (insert wild hand waving gesture by the author), the Mario gang (which includes Mario, Luigi, Peach, Bowser, Mallow, and Geno) have to team up with Bleck's minions to defeat a bigger, badder Big Bad pre-events of SPM. Think about this group of disasters interacting. It would be gold.

Mimi initially tries to hit on Geno. Geno is oblivious to what is happening until Bowser spells it out for him. Geno is appalled.

Mallow takes an immediate liking to O'Chunks and follows him around everywhere, basically adopting O'Chunks as another extended family member.

Bowser and Nastasia sit around the fire comparing notes as to how to run a bureaucracy of minions. Nastasia almost enjoys Bowser's company until he challenges O'Chunks to a best-of-100 arm wrestling competition, perhaps under the influence of the mysterious Chucklehuck grog Dimentio has conjured from...somewhere.

Speaking of Dimentio...Geno despises Dimentio on sight and basically has to be held back by Mario every time they are within 5 feet of each other. Geno senses something deeply wrong with Dimentio's magic and basically embodies the Steve Carrell "I'll kill you" meme whenever they make unsupervised eye contact.

Dimentio, of course, finds this all wildly amusing. He also is trying to figure out Geno's deal and how he can use his powers to his advantage. He can't talk to Geno directly, nor are Mario, Peach, or Bowser seemingly open to his advances, but he can try and wheedle information from the green one - Luigi, who is trying his very best to stay away from the creepy jester.

Poor Luigi is just trying to keep a low profile. He's patient with Mallow, listening to all of his stories, engaging in some games when Mallow asks. He gets sucked into refereeing the arm-wrestling matches between O'Chunks and Bowser, which ends with both men bodily threatening him whenever he makes a call against them, which in turn gets Mario riled up. This is annoying to Luigi, as all he really wants to do is curl up against a tree and read.

But even that doesn't bring him peace, as whenever he peeks over a page to see what's happening, he catches either Geno or Dimentio just staring at him, Geno's large eyes a disturbing blank, Dimentio's features crinkling with something too close to appetite, his head tilted in curiosity.

At one point, Mario gets fed up with the Bleck gang and draws a line in the dirt, delineating his side and their side. Not five minutes later, Mallow crosses over to ask Mimi to show off her spider powers again.

The first time Mimi shows off her spider powers, Geno is fascinated. Do all corporeal beings have this ability, he asks Mario, a sliver of excitement in his voice.

At some point, Geno and Nastasia have a long, private conversation. No one knows what is said, but Nastasia comes out looking shaken.

Peach and Mimi exchange fashion tips, which fascinate Mallow. He figures as a newly-donned prince, he should learn more about these types of things. Peach and Mimi are happy to oblige, especially Peach, who can give advice to Mallow about being a royal.

Peach is also the only other person to notice the way both Geno and Dimentio are examining Luigi. When she brings it up with Mario, he threatens to stuff Dimentio's hat down his throat. While Peach can't disagree with that sentiment, when she asks why Geno is also scrutinizing his brother, Mario is at a loss for an answer and shuts down the conversation.

After a hard battle, the gang gets a little tipsy on Dimentio's mystery grog. Peach ends up challenging both Bowser and O'Chunks to arm wrestling, much to their delight. Mallow and Mimi give each other makeovers. Mario and Nastasia both deem themselves the designated drivers, at it were, of their respective parties and share an awkward, stilted conversation about their pasts.

Luigi, whose stress levels are stratospheric due to the constant pseudo-stalking of Geno and Dimentio, drinks one grog too many, announces he's going to build a machine from whatever scrap he can find, pointing at Dimentio and Geno, ordering them to help him gather metal and bits. When Geno points out Luigi has no tools, Luigi just scoffs, saying he doesn't need tools.

Mario rolls his eyes at the whole scene - he's seen his brother like this before and he tells a flabbergasted Bowser to just let him get it out of his system. When Bowser exclaims he didn't know Luigi could be so bossy, Mario huffs out a laugh, saying Bowser has no idea just how demanding his little brother can be when he's in that kind of mood. Mallow pipes up that he'd like to have a little brother, too.

Later, Luigi is putting the finishing touches on some MacGuyvered piece of machinery, mumbling something about it needing electricity. Dimentio purrs that this would be difficult without a tempest arriving like a set springed snakes let loose from an unremarkable cylinder. Geno frowns at the tortured comparison, saying he'd be willing to help but Luigi just cuts him off, conjuring a bit of electricity in his palm, which sets the machine working.

Geno and Dimentio stare at each other, the machine, and then Luigi, in kind. Do that again, Dimentio sings, lip curling into a calculating smile. Geno stands abruptly, swinging his cape to the side, but all Luigi does is slur the words, "Not right now, bro," and passes out on the ground.

#hello there #luigi #mario #peach #bowser #geno #mallow #dimentio #mimi #nastasia #o'chunks #this got out of hand #honestly all i really wanted to say is that geno and dimentio would be mortal enemies #hahahahha

[pensat-i-fet]

Don’t forget (Rúben Dias x Reader)

Part 2

**I got this angst request for either Rúben or Licha and my initial thought was doing it with Licha. But after the injury, I don't want to write about him being an asshole 😭 so Rúben will be the bad guy today 😅 then I realized the argument part was what someone else had requested so I'm putting both requests together so I don't just do two imagines that are pretty much the same one after the other. I hope that's alright 😊 and enjoy!! ❤️**

Word count: 2409

Masterlist

Wattpad

There are those days when people feel like everything will go wrong that day the moment they wake up. That was what happened to Rúben and on a matchday. The feeling couldn’t be worse.

His morning routine was a disaster. The blender didn’t want to work properly and it took him too long to make a smoothie. And when he went to open the avocado to eat with his omelette, it was completely brown and there was no way he could eat that.

The shoes he liked to wear to the stadium were dirty, but he hadn’t noticed the last time he wore them or he would have washed them. But he couldn’t wear them and even if he wasn’t very superstitious, that felt like a bad omen.

The traffic wasn’t great either and that meant it took ages for the bus to make it to the Etihad Stadium. The entire team was restless and the coaching staff worried they would have to delay the match.

When they finally got there, he was the first one by the door, ready to get out. But he didn’t wait until the door opened completely and his jacket’s pocket got stuck, which made his phone fall to the floor. Great. The screen was cracked and he couldn’t see anything. The day couldn’t get any worse…or so he thought.

Rúben was so busy being annoyed that he forgot you were coming back that day. You were going to go to the match and then meet him after so you could go home together.

Once you were on your seat seeing how the team warmed up, you sent Rúben a text to wish him luck and remind him you would see him later. He always checked for your message right before leaving the dressing room and you never forgot your little tradition.

But this time, his phone remained forgotten in his bag. He couldn’t use it anyways, why bother having it near his things like he always did?

The match was supposed to be an easy one for City. No one expected anything worse than a 3-0 win but losing one of your best players early in the game wasn’t the way to get that easy victory.

It wasn’t even Rúben’s fault, it was Jack’s. He went to the floor several times, having been fouled by the same player every time. Each time telling each other not-so-nice things under their breaths until Jack went too far and the other player pushed him, causing the rest of the team to go defend their teammate.

Rúben wasn’t a violent player but between the bad day he had had and the way a player stepped on his foot, even if the player didn’t mean to, he had enough and overreacted. He pushed the player once and then twice. And when the referee told him to leave, he told him to fuck off, which the ref didn’t really appreciate. So what was going to be a simple yellow card and a warning turned into a straight red.

You were watching from the stands, not really believing what was going on. What was wrong with your boyfriend today?

At half-time, the team went back to the dressing room, where moody and angry Rúben had been staring at the floor for the last 15 minutes. City had conceded right after his red card and the players weren’t very happy with their teammate. That’s why when the second half started, he left. Forgetting about the rules that forbade him from doing that and, most importantly, forgetting about you.

The second half was a bit better but not by much. City equalised and managed to save a point but the quality of the football wasn’t the highlight of the match. It also started to rain a lot and both players and fans just wanted the match to be over so they could go home.

You checked your phone when the match ended, expecting a message from Rúben but found none. Though you didn’t think much of it, knowing how gutted he would be after what happened. So you made your way to where you usually waited for Rúben and were a bit surprised he wasn’t the first player out. He probably showered an hour before the match ended so it’s not as if he was busy getting ready.

One by one, the players kept coming out of the dressing room and none of them was Rúben. Until the last one, Rodri, got out.

“What are you doing here?”, he asked.

“Waiting for Rúben”.

“He isn’t here”.

“What do you mean he isn’t here?”

“He left during half-time. Didn’t he tell you?”

You checked your phone again to see if you had missed any texts but there was nothing.

“No…”.

“Do you want me to drive you home?”, offered Rodri, noticing your sad expression.

“It’s fine, thank you. I’ll call a taxi. I don’t want to bother you”.

“You wouldn’t be bothering me…”.

“I’m good, Rodri. Thank you”.

You didn’t want to be with anyone right now so they wouldn’t see how mad you were. After two weeks away for work, Rúben does this to you? Unbelievable.

The Uber took a long time to get to the stadium because of how busy it was after the match and when it parked, it was a bit far so you had to run to it and try to avoid getting too wet. It was pouring with rain.

“Sorry, they didn’t let me get nearer the stadium”.

“It’s ok”.

“It might take a while to get to your destination. The traffic has been terrible all day and with this weather…”.

Could the day get any worse?

But it could. Of course it could. You were stuck in traffic and the driver kept sighing and making you more nervous. He got a call and he kept turning to look at you.

“We’re going to be here for a while. I’m sorry, there is nothing I can do”.

You thought about the options and decided to leave the car.

“Thank you, it’s fine. I’m not far from home so I’ll get there quickly and it stopped raining”.

It should have taken you 10 minutes to walk home if you were quick…and quick you had to be because a minute after leaving the car, it started to rain again.

“Nooooo”.

You tried to cover your head with the jacket you were wearing but it didn’t have a hood and the material got soaked quickly which made your attempt completely useless. The shoes you were wearing made you slip a little when the floor was wet, so running wasn’t an idea either. You had to walk fast in an unnatural way and knew your legs were going to hurt the next day.

When you finally made it to the building, you struggled to get the key inside the lock because of how wet and cold your hands were. Rúben was already home. He had been there for a while, just laying down on the sofa feeling sorry for himself. Going over everything that happened at the match over and over again.

But then the door opened and it scared him for a second. Who was there?

“You ok there? Comfortable having a nap?”

“What are you doing here?”

He couldn’t understand what was going on but then he remembered. You were coming back that morning and going to the match. And he was supposed to bring you home after but…he left. And his phone didn’t work so he didn’t see any of your messages.

“Well, I live here so that’s what I am doing. Did you forget about that too?”

“I’m sorry. My phone broke and then I was sent off and…”.

“And nothing, Rúben. I get you had a crap day but you can’t just forget about me”.

“Let me get you some towels…”.

“I don’t want you to bring me towels! I want you to stay out of my way!"

“I’m sorry…”.

But you didn’t want to listen. You just wanted to remove the wet clothes and take a shower with water so hot that it almost burned your skin.

Rúben went to the room when you were in the shower, listening to know when you were coming out of the bathroom. And the first bad sign came when he noticed you weren’t singing. You always sang in the shower but now were quiet as a mousse. The last time that happened was when you had a terrible day at work and ended up crying in the shower so he wouldn’t see you do it. Were you crying again?

Finally, you got out of the bathroom wearing a robe and carrying your wet clothes with you to take to the washing machine.

“I can wash that for you…”.

“Zip it”, was the only thing you said and if looks could kill…

He sat down on the bed again and then you came back and started to pick up clothes before heading to the bathroom again. The way you slammed the door made him close his eyes. You weren't going to listen to him today.

He then realized you were using the blowdryer and knew it would take a while so he went to the kitchen to make some dinner. You didn’t have to talk to him but could at least eat, right?

Rúben knew you liked pasta so he made some for the both of you and then took a piece of the chocolate cake you had in the freezer so it could defrost and be your dessert. You kept it there for those bad days when you needed all the chocolate you could eat.

“I made you some food”, he said when you got to the kitchen. But you didn’t acknowledge him and just went to the kettle to make yourself some tea. You still felt so cold. “You have to eat”.

“I’m not hungry. I’ll just go to bed. Feel free to stay in another room tonight”.

He grabbed your arm when you walked past him. “Stop this. Stop acting like a child”.

“I’m the child? Says the man who gets into fights at work and gets sent off…give me a break”.

“Ok then, starve yourself tonight. I don’t care”.

He had enough for one day. And so did you, so after hearing him, you took your mug and went to your bed. It was also far away from him so you felt great there.

After drinking your tea, you heard Rúben approaching the room and faked being asleep. Even if he could probably tell you were not really sleeping but you were exhausted and didn’t want to argue more.

He opened some drawers, getting the clothes he would sleep in that night and then you heard some movement on the bedside table. You assumed he had taken your empty mug to the kitchen but when he left and you opened your eyes, there was a plate with food there. And cake.

You waited until the door from the other room was closed to go out and take the plates to the dishwasher. A part of you wanted to go see Rúben and let him apologize. So you could also apologize once he was done but your ego didn’t let you do it and you just went to bed and fell asleep.

Rúben wasn’t so lucky. He kept trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in but couldn’t. Not while being upset with you and not knowing you were in the same house but not sleeping next to him. It felt wrong.

Also, his toe hurt a lot. When he went to the dressing room, he took his boots off and saw some blood on the socks. When the other player stepped on his foot, he stabbed his big toe with the studs. One of the doctors cleaned the wound and bandaged it but now it was hurting again. And when Rúben went to take a look, he saw some blood on the bandage. He needed a clean one but those were in your room. And it was 3 am.

Moving as quietly as he could, he got to the bathroom and started to open drawers, trying to find the bandages and the disinfectant. But he woke you up, startling you for a second with the noise. You got up to see what was going on and saw him sitting on the floor with half of your first aid kit on the floor.

"What are you doing?"

"I didn't mean to wake you up".

"Are you hurt?"

"It's my toe. A player stepped on it and it's bleeding again. I just need the bandages…", he kept checking the drawer but wasn't going to find anything there.

"They are in the cabinet".

He moved to get up and get them but you stopped him.

"Don't, I'll get them for you".

"Thank you".

Without saying anything, you took the bandages and sat down on the floor. You took his foot and put it on your lap so you could clean the wound and then bandage it. You sneezed a few times and felt very congested. The joys of being out in the cold rain with no umbrella to protect you.

"Done".

"Thank you".

"It's fi…", another sneeze stopped you from finishing the word.

"Are you sick?"

"Either that or I developed an allergy to you".

Rúben laughed. It was good you were making jokes again.

"I wouldn't blame you if you did. Again, I'm sorry".

"I'm sorry too".

He got up and offered his hand so you could do the same.

"How about you go to bed and I find some medicine for your cold?"

You nodded, eyes closing from how tired you were and how terrible you felt. Practically collapsing into the bed, you tried to sit up to take the medicine Rúben brought.

"Are you staying here?", you asked when you saw him getting into bed next to you.

"Of course. I read the leaflet for the medicine and it says to drink a lot of liquids and get a lot of cuddles from your boyfriend. So…doctor's orders".

He opened his arms so you could hug him and you smiled before doing just that.

"Also, it's my fault you're sick and I feel guilty".

"As you should. You better buy more cake tomorrow".

"I won't forget. And I won't forget about you either. I promise".

#ruben dias #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias one shot #ruben dias angst #ruben dias fluff #footballer imagine #footballer one shot #footballer angst #footballer fluff

[pavardscherie]

Can you write for Jules kounde where y/n is on the girls Real Madrid team and they get into a argument because he wants to support barca female team since it’s his team as well so she tells him just to not go at all and he ends up going and he’s wearing her jersey and she dedicates a goal to him? (This is weirdly specific💀)

Anyways stay safe <3

switching jersey, jules kounde

⤷ pairing: jules kounde x female reader ⤷ summary: you have an important match against the female barca team, and jules is completely on the wrong side. after an argument, you don't expect him to even come to your match and support you, but things change quickly.

⤷ izzy's talk: come in and be as specific as possible haha. it only takes longer for me to write because i try to make it as close as possible so it's not the open-minded writing haha. hope you like it!

⤷ requests are open.

hate was such a strong word, and it combined the entirety of bad feelings for someone. but you didn't hate jules for the decision and statements he made. you just could not understand how easy it was to decline you the support you needed. barcelona was his team, no matter if female or male. and it was somewhere understandable that he chose them over your team if he would not be in a relationship with you.

you went to his games, wearing his jersey, and letting the fans in the stands see to whom you belonged. yet, he refused to do the exact same thing for you. it made you furious, the anger bubbled in the pit of your stomach. for merely a second, you even regretted how often you bought a ticket to a game, and surprised him. hidden between the fans, wearing his jersey and waving wildly when he came close enough.

but there was no time left to think about what happened, the referee already walked onto the pitch, accompanied by his three assistants for the important match. it pained you deeply, the misunderstanding between jules and you, and the lack of support, you were allowed to feel. but as the most important striker on the team, you couldn't lose your head. you had to focus on the enemy team, on scoring a goal, and winning the fifth game in a row.

the private life, your relationship, it had to vanish for at least ninety minutes. unnecessary problems had to disappear to assure your excellence was on the pitch. but the first half passed way too quickly. mostly tackled by the enemies, the last chance to keep you away from scoring a goal.

barcelona was the greatest enemy of real madrid. they occupied the first place in the chart currently, and you desperately wanted to change the spots with them. second was good, but not the perfect place. the team you were surrounded with found a better way into the second half. as soon as the referee blew the whistle, the midfielders captured the ball and pushed the barcelona females back into the defense line. to win the game ultimately, you needed at least one goal. two would make it a clear statement. anything above that would be hilarious but also, closed the gap between the first and second place quicker.

twenty minutes into the second half, the right defense players kicked the ball across the midfield, and it fell perfectly into your run. outplaying one, and then a second defensive player, it was you against the goalkeeper. close to the right post, you decided to try for the far post and kicked the ball with the inner surface of your shoe.

the ball flew through the air, bouncing once before the goalline, and jumping straight into the net. the lead goal was scored in the seventy-first minute by you, closing the gap between the two spots in the chart and only being one point behind Barcelona. running towards the corner where the fans already waved their flags, jumped up and down and shouted your name, you raised your arms in the air.

with a wide smile spread across your face, your eyes still skimmed the stands filled with fans in real madrid jersey's for the one familiar face. the features, you could remember with your eyes closed, and the curve of the lips, you loved so dearly.

disappointed filled your empty stomach, the familiar face didn't appear in the crowds. you knew, jules said he wouldn't attend the game because it would be against part of his. it felt like a betrayal to him, but in the end, he chose to betray you. letting your arms fall to the sides, your teammates reached your spot in the corners and jumped on your back. engulfed in a tight hug, you forced yourself to keep the smile on your lips while your squinted gaze hasn't given up on jules yet.

and how lucky you were that your orbs decided against the sadness, and never stop searching. a plastic cup in one of his hands, jules jogged down the stairs in a hurry. the goal happened exactly in the moment when he decided to get a drink. the tightened throat felt dry after shouting your name multiple times, and singing the songs with the real madrid fans. the circle around you dissolved, the team scattered across the field and onto their positions once again to play out the rest of the second half.

yet, you stay for a couple of seconds longer, the corners of your mouth curled further upwards. a smile that glistened with satisfaction and happiness at the sight of him, wearing the all-too-familiar colors of real madrid. turning on the staircase, your name was written in capital letters on his back, and you couldn't help yourself but giggle about it.

slowly talking backward after the barcelona fans already started shouting for you to stop wasting time, you raised your arms and created a heart with your hands towards jules. the goal, you scored a minute ago, was for him. it has always been for him, even if he would have decided against coming to the match.

fortunately, jules changed his mind. decided against being for Barcelona because he played at the same club. nothing mattered more than the kind of bond, he shared with you. and his attendance increased your will to reach the top of the table, just like he and his teammates currently did.

the eagerness of your movements, the gestures of your arms and hands, infected your teammates and the ball came flying forward much more often than attempting to dribble against one of the barcelona females. the clock hit the eighty-eight minute, almost reaching the final whistle of the game, when another perfect ball was played towards you.

running with the ball attached to your foot, you dribbled against the same two defensive players, you outplayed for the first goal. and it happened for a second time. they could not stop you, and neither could the goalkeeper when the ball hit the bar on the inside and flew into the goal. a second time.

immediately, you ran towards the corners, searching for the familiar face of jules, and finding him within seconds. he fought his way towards the front of the crowd, the plastic cup still in his hand but other liquids poured across the jersey from the celebrating people behind him. leaving the pitch, which would result in a booking, you jumped to at least give your boyfriend a successful high-five for the perfect goal scored.

"this one was for you, only you!" you shouted over the loud music, and the screams of the fans. pointing the fingers of your left hand at him, you used your other to send a kiss straight his way. jules watched it in the middle of the air, holding his hand close to his heart. the little gesture meant more than the loud shouts of the fans, celebrating their striker and the win of their team against such a strong enemy.

when you returned to the pitch, you received the booking for leaving the pitch without allowance but shrugged off the yellow card. glancing over your shoulder towards the crowd, jules had the plastic cup between his lips, holding it tightly with his teeth and using his hands to show you a heart. just like you did, when the first goal was scored and his attendance caught you by surprise.

#jules kounde blurb #jules kounde drabble #jules kounde imagine #jules kounde #fc barcelona drabble #fc barca imagine #fc barcelona imagine #fc barcelona #fc barca #french footballers #french national team #football blurb #football drabble #football imagine #football #football fans #football lovers #la liga #jules kounde x reader #jules kounde x you #jules kounde x yn #fc barcelona x reader #fc barcelona x you #football x you #football x reader #football x y/n #requested #request #writing requests

[tiphprince]

The Iceberg of Snape and Dumbledore's Scheming

If you prefer to read this on reddit, here's a link to the post.

This theory initally came from this simple observation: it makes no sense for Snape to be the referee of Harry's second Quidditch match.

In total, the text gives us directly 3 reasons, all from different point of views. For the teachers and the students, Snape is a petty bastard who wants to prevent Gryffindor from winning. For Harry, Snape is a murderous bastard who wants to kill him. For Quirrell, Snape is an interfering bastard who wants to protect Harry. This last reason is the one that we are given at the end, and that we accept as truth. It seems logical to us both in the plot of PS as Snape being a red herring, and the plot of the whole series, with Snape having always been there behind the scene to protect Harry in honor of Lily's memory.

From Snape's point of view however, this makes no sense.

"Why do you think he wanted to referee your next match? He was trying to make sure I didn’t do it again. Funny, really ... he needn’t have bothered. I couldn’t do anything with Dumbledore watching. All the other teachers thought Snape was trying to stop Gryffindor winning, he did make himself unpopular ... and what a waste of time, when after all that, I’m going to kill you tonight." - Quirrell

First, why would Snape be in a better position to help Harry while in the literal middle of a Quidditch match? He'd have to pay attention to everything happening, not just Harry, even if just to avoid being injured or killed himself, which nearly happened twice in the span of about 5 minutes. He wouldn't be able to focus nearly as much on counter spells, let alone keep an eye on Quirrell.

Second, Dumbledore's presence at the game. Even if Quirrell/Voldemort had made another attempt with Dumbledore there, I don't see how Snape could have done much from up there than Dumbledore wouldn't be able to do with spells.

So, my theory is, what if Snape wasn't there to protect Harry, but as another red herring, this time for Quirrell?

It gets a bit complicated here, as we have to keep track of the timeline and what everyone knows or doesn't know, so please bear with me.

I won't go into all the detailed explanations of Dumbledore's plot with the Philosopher's Stone, and the protections, many others have done it way better than I could, but the basic idea is this: Dumbledore knows Quirrell is working with or for Voldemort in some capacity, he orchestrated pretty much everything that happened in the first book, and asked Snape to keep an eye on Quirrell for him.

Quirrell however, doesn't know what exactly it is that Dumbledore knows. Quirrell knows that Snape suspects him, that he knows he's after the Stone, and that Quirrell made one attempt on Harry's life. What Quirrell does not know however, if whether or not Snape told all of this to Dumbledore.

Nothing, to Quirrell, indicates that Dumbledore knows about everything, or at least knows who is behind the events. After all, if he knew, why not have Quirrell fired/imprisoned, why not confront him, like Snape does?

To show this further, Dumbledore even asks Quirrell to help set up one of the protections for the Stone. This alone shows that Dumbledore must trust Quirrell, and so that Snape and Dumbledore are not working closely together, or else Snape would have told him. Snape being a referee even with Dumbledore present reinforces that idea.

In fact, to go even deeper, Snape is the one who looks the most guilty out of everyone involved.

"Yes, Severus does seem the type, doesn’t he? So useful to have him swooping around like an overgrown bat. Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor st- stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?" - Quirrell

What if Quirrell's plan was to also use Snape as a scapegoat, the one Dumbledore would be focused on. After all, we we saw it in the book, no one looks more guilty than Snape. This would explain why Dumbledore would attend a Quidditch match, which isn't something he usually does, to... keep an eye on Snape, who would be in close proximity to Harry during a highly dangerous sports game.

From Dumbledore and Snape's point of view, this is what they are counting on. Give Quirrell a false sense of security, that the one person he fears doesn't suspect him personally, not anymore than anyone else at least, and allows the rest of Dumbledore's plans to go as smoothly as possible.

In this book, Snape is a red herring for Harry, for Quirrell, for Dumbledore, and of course, the reader.

#Severus Snape #Harry Potter #Severus Snape Meta #Harry Potter Meta #Albus Dumbledore #Dumbledore #Pro Snape #Pro Dumbledore #Quirrell #Snape fandom #Snapedom #My Own Spells

[marlenelyra]

Just something really really fluffy for Benjamin Pavard<33

B. Pavard- Red Card

Fluff

An: I swear my whole writing consist of waking up and cuddling. Also this isn’t so fluffy so I will write another one but I just wanted to get this imagine out here

Benjamin woke up in a hotel room, to his stupid alarm going of, a head resting on his bare torso. Today was a really important match. Better said: Championsleague match,

Bayern vs Paris-Saint Germain.

That’s why he was sleeping in a hotel room. He was in middle of Paris. He groaned thinking of the match as he rubbed his forehead he didn’t wanna go and of course was he grateful to be a part of the starting 11 but he really liked the idea of having you, his girlfriend, in his arms, only there for him for the rest of the day. Savouring the moment for a short time, inhaling your perfume, the smell of home. Since his whole family was living in France he didn’t really have anybody in Germany, except for his teammates, but sometimes that wasn’t enough, that was until he met you. The first time he had laid eyes on you was at a club where you were working as a bartender. From the moment he had seen you, he knew it was you. The girl that brought the feeling of home to him, that was always there for him. The girl he loved more than anything. You.

His phone buzzing again reminding him to get up, ripped him out of his thoughts. Your head stirred on his chest since you had woken up from the alarm.

„You have to leave?“ your voice rang in his ears

„Yes. I am sorry mon amour“ „but we’ll see each other during the match“ you could hear his voice covered in his thick French accent. His hands brushed the hair out of your face as you prepped your head up kissing his lips hard.

„I love you“ Even tho you didn’t want him to leave, you rolled yourself of him as he got out of bed. He changed his clothes as you watched him closely not once averting your gaze.

„Like what you see“ he asked amused

„Oh shut up“ you let your head fall back onto your pillow.

„take care, please Benji“ you looked at him

„i will, i love you, bye baby“ he answered as he left your room

You rolled over in bed falling asleep again.

-

You sat at the match in Paris your eyes following your boyfriend with the number 5 and last name Pavard on the back. He already had received a yellow after fouling Neymar, that meant another yellow card, he would get send of the pitch. So when Benjamin ran up to Messi to defend Bayerns goal, you knew this wouldn’t end well. Benjis leg slipping between Messis without touching the ball. That was another foul. The referees whistle was blown as he held up a yellow card a red card following. It was nearly the end of the game so it wasn’t that bad but still worry flashed your face as soon as you saw the referees decision sending Benjamin off the pitch. Your boyfriend walked disappointed off the pitch leaving his team behind. His figure leaving inside the tunnels at the side of the field.

You immediately stood up walking down the stairs in Benjamins Direction. Slipping past the Security guys with a Vip pass, Benjamin had given you before the game, you searched for him. Walking through the tunnels arriving at a door that read <changing room guest> you slowly opened the door in hope of finding the curly headed boy. Your eyes scanning through the changing room, landing on a figure with their head in their hands. It was your boyfriend. You slowly walked up to him kneeling on your feet in front of him. Your hands rested on his carefully.

„Hey love“ you mutter quietly

His head perked up his eyes locking with yours. You could see the disappointment and sadness and maybe even anger written over his face.

„I fucked up, how could I let that happen, I was supposed to protect the goal not make it harder to defend since there are now only 10 players left“ he hissed his head tilting down again and eyes looking on the floor

You looked at him sadly. God how you hated seeing him like this.

„Hey mon amour, look at me please“ you took both of your hands so the side of his face making him look at you. You smiled

„you did exactly what you were supposed to do, you defended the goal, and psg was getting a bit to close, so you did what you had to do as a good defender“ „you did the right thing, believe me these people are so grateful to have you, you were amazing out there today“

„God you amaze me every time again, i am so fucking proud of you, i love you Benjamin Pavard“

He smiled weakly eyes fixated on yours. How the hell did he get with you. You are amazing, always there for him. He was so inlove with you. His hand reaching up covering yours on his face as he leaned forward capturing your lips in a passionately kiss. You pulled away his forehead resting against yours and your noses slightly brushing.

„Thank you, I love you too“ he whispered slightly smiling. your try to cheer him up, seeming as if it had worked

„By the way, I like the shirt“ he motioned to the red jersey Pavard on the back, that you wore

„Yeah me too, I like the name, maybe some day I won’t have to wear the Jersey anymore because the name is already mine“ you smiled

„Definitely, just you wait“ he laughed kissing you again. He was happy you were here, he didn’t think he would know what he would do without you.

Your little make out session didn’t lass long since Benjamins Teammates came into the room through the door. They were laughing and all cheering.

„You did great out there Benjamin“ one said

You looked at him giving him the told you so look

„I’ll wait outside“ you said leaving the room as he laughed looking after you.

Later he had gone back on to the field as the fans were cheering for him since he played so well today.

-

Even tho he still wasn’t 100% happy with the game today, he started to accept it. But with a lot of help by you with kisses and cuddles in your hotel room.

#football imagine #benjamin pavard #benjamin pavard imagine #Benjamin Pavard fluff #benjamin pavard x reader

[riverxsong-ao3]

Vitae Redux --: Book Two: Chapter 22

“Harry Potter,” the older boy said in his thick Bulgarian accent. “I vos votching you fly at the first task. You ver… very good.”

“Er – thanks!” Harry beamed, his heart pounding. “You too! I mean, obviously – I was at the World Cup, and – well…”

“I vos also vondering,” Krum continued, “if you vould like to go flying. I haff not had the opportunity since the summer.”

“Yeah?” Harry asked breathlessly. “Yeah, of course! Listen, I’ve got a Snitch in my things, we could race to catch it. Tom can referee.”

“You know I don’t know the first thing about Quidditch, darling,” Tom said to his side.

“Tom can watch,” Harry amended. “It’s Saturday, so we’re free until lunch if you want to go now.”

“That sounds vonderful,” Krum replied, smiling – though it was less of a proper grin and more of a lightening of his usual dour expression. “I’ll meet you on the Quidditch pitch, then.”

Harry had never raced so fast back to the dungeons after breakfast, desperate to grab his Firebolt and the Snitch Tom had gifted him for Christmas their first year as quickly as possible, lest Krum decide that it wasn’t worth the wait. Tom ran after him, chiding him for skiving off studies to go flying.

“Harry!” he cried, as they stumbled into the Slytherin common room. “The others will be waiting for us in the library, have you forgotten? We’re supposed to go over the chapter on antidotes to poison, Professor Snape will have our hides if we aren’t prepared!”

“We’ve studied that chapter enough,” Harry said, as they made their way into the dorms and he started digging through his trunk for the little Snitch tucked away at the bottom. “Ah – I’ve got it. And how many people can say they’ve gone flying with an international Quidditch star? Come on, Tom – it’s just one study session, it’ll be fine.”

Tom sighed. “You say that now, Harry,” he lamented, “but what happens next time Krum asks you to go flying with him? How are you going to get all Outstanding O.W.L.s if you skip studying to play Quidditch?”

“I thought you wanted me to be an international Quidditch player, too,” Harry said, grinning as he grabbed his Firebolt. “I won’t need O.W.L.s for that!”

“Darling, you can’t just play Quidditch forever!” Tom exclaimed, following him back out of the dorms. “You have to think about your future, Harry. Harry!” 

Harry was out and onto the Quidditch pitch in record time, grinning up at Krum, who stood at the centre already holding his own Firebolt. “Are you ready?” he asked as Harry approached. “I von’t go easy on you.”

“I wouldn’t want you to,” Harry replied, releasing the Snitch. “We’ll give it ten seconds, yeah? Best out of five?”

“Of course.”

They counted off ten before bursting into the air, the two of them twin fireworks sailing into the sky at breakneck speed. The Snitch was already well out of sight, so Harry broke off and began circling the stands, exhilarated. Watching Krum at the World Cup had been incredible, but actually flying with him – competing with him? Nothing was comparable.

Their little impromptu game was over far too quickly. Krum caught the Snitch four times in a row within minutes, while Harry raced to keep up. He managed finally, on the fifth try, to snatch it from right under Krum’s nose, bringing the older boy to a screeching halt as he dashed in front of him, triumphant at last. The match concluded, they descended, out of breath, to the ground, Krum clapping slowly.

“Vell done,” he said, as their feet touched the dewy grass, and Harry could tell that it was a genuine, if rare compliment. “I hope ve have the opportunity to meet again on the field, professionally.”

“Really?” Harry gasped. “I mean, Tom said I was good enough, but he’s biased —“

“Really,” Krum responded. “No von else has been able to keep the Snitch from me in years. How long haff you been playing?”

“Well, this would have been my third year on the team,” Harry replied. “But they cancelled it for the Tournament.”

“Two years, then,” Krum stated. “Very impressive. You should look into professional training.”

“Harry!” He turned to see Tom striding across the Quidditch pitch towards him, grinning broadly. “I saw you catch the Snitch right in front of Krum. You were incredible, darling.”

“Please, call me Viktor.” Harry nodded in acknowledgment, grinning madly. “Also, I vonted to ask you…” Viktor cleared his throat and glanced away awkwardly, “if you vould introduce me to your friend, the von with the curly hair?”

#harry potter #tom riddle #tomarry #fanfiction #vitae redux #harrymort #harry potter fanfiction

[didalexiabreakupwitholgayet]

I have more info on that. This was the era where majority of games couldn't be seen, this particular one was viewed by lots of Barça fans like me through a Crisdelmini instagram live with a quality of absolute garbage

It gave raise to the famous "no sabe hablar" meme after the ref said that Engen also said some "disrespectful" things to her. Ingrid, who barely gets words out on the pitch. Jona criticised the decision and got a red and Leila also called out the ref and got a yellow.

thank you helpful anon! i know that some away teams had better video infrastructure back in 2022, but given what happened to rayo vallecano and it's free fall being relegated, it's clear that it wasn't one of them.

omg, cris del mini! what a barça legend! there are so many stories about her. i think a lot of new fans aren't aware of how hard old school futfem/woso fans had to struggle to watch matches. but cris del mini and fans like her in other leagues who would livestream matches were a godsend. and if you think the video quality is bad now, then imagine what it was like before! 🙈

and yes, i totally forgot about that "no sabe hablar" incident (above). i found an old interview of jona where he talks about it and talks about how poor the level of referees are in liga f. as if this ref even attempted to understand what ingrid was trying to explain to her and just took it the wrong way. what a joke! sad to say there hasn't been that much improvement since then...

finally, it's so good to see how much ingrid has improved. i remember when fans were unreasonably harsh on her and criticized her most recent renovation and only said she got it because she's mapi's gf! be serious, pls.

and look now, she was literally the best player on the pitch yesterday!

#fcb femení #futfem #woso #ingrid engen

[sommerregenjuniluft]

everytime i remember both barty & james are setters in ur haikyuu au i go a little insane...... what r they like when they're playing each other?? constantly taunting the other, doing setter dumps back and forth, telling each other the exact play they're about to do, etc....

cass my light my love i'm so glad you asked i only just thought about them yesterday

so back in january i've been watching a lot of international volleyball games on youtube and like taking notes and through that found out how i want james and barty to play. i bet you remember this post. both james and barty do this but in different ways. iranian national team setter saeid marouf does this thing where no matter how good or bad the receive is he always manages to keep his players in a tight rhythm. they're on a time limit so to say and he passes the ball accordingly fast after taking it on, urging his hitters to sped up their last two steps before the jump, which increases their hight and power. it's so mercyless and trusting and how talented you have to fucking be to keep that up let alone invent that so that's our james right there. for barty he is less of an obvious genius (i'm not 100 sure yet if i'll leave it like that or might add something but for now) he always sets percisely in the hitting window to let them also make decisions of their own because they're all so cunning and observant he knows they'll decide on the right thing. slytherin has a wild variety of plays that all are very confusing to their opponent (lots of players attacking at the same time and curved sprints, switching places and everything) even after a bad receive they manage to pull a complex play (they're much like seijoh in that aspect). barty signalizes them the play he wants to do and waits until the last second with deciding who he wants to set to, he's a calculating monster. always having the opponents players in view, how his own hitters are doing, how the receive was, everything. his unpredictability makes him dangerous.

now when they're playing against each other is mostly a disaster waiting to happen. barty is a first year and he's constantly getting admonished by his upperclassmen and the second evan only so much as suspects barty's concentration is slipping because he's too focused on beating James instead of gyffindor he sends him the biggest death glare to reign him back in. and while james is also only a second year, he is captain. sirius has to do so much damage control as vice whenever his temper gets the better of him and it's, if understandably when against barty, a lot.

slytherin is a downright mean team. they block the view to the person serving. they aim where it hurts. yknow how the teams assemble after each point for morality/celebration to like pat each others back? whenever gryffindor makes a mistake and esp when they fumble a serve, slytherin cheers just a tad too loudly. like it's bordering on disrespectful/bad sportmanship. also (and while they def dont need to resort to such measures) they love questioning the referees. they insist there was a block touch or they insist that the served ball was outside of the line etcetc. ofc james is the first to also stand by the refs, shaking his head and desperately trying to remain calm because he does not appreciate getting cheated.

barty being our deceptive king probably would do something like revealing his plays when he hears some of the opponents talk about it, but he'd have to do it under his breath and in secret because the thrid years dont appreciate him being that cocky (because they dont know yet that he can pull it off). also one time after a bad receive he yells Quick! but instead of a middle blocker quick he sets to an outside hitter and everyone is like ?!!?!? but yeah 100% setter dumps back and forth i can easily see james doing one at the very beginning of a set or match even. constantly taunting each other. like in my mind i think it would take quite a lot to get james to lose his uplifting/confident demeanor (as in sad/resigned to a loss) but he does get annoyed/infuriated from time to time, esp about someone outsmarting him (cough atsumu core). and barty is just overall pissed at james keeping his form and not fucking up and petty asf and he 100% trash talks near the net. maybe even about sirius and regulus

#also barty 100% pulls a 🫰🏻 at evan #and gets cuffed over his head for it by everyone #can u tell i've been meaning to talk about them?:)) #so normal about this au #haikyuu au #cass tag