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bluewasthecolor · 8 months
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CNN CAME FOR HIS FUCKING THROAT!!!! 🤌🤌🤌
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bluewasthecolor · 8 months
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A lot of men who would send a PK straight into the 2nd deck breaking the nose of an innocent fan in the process are going to have a lot to say about this team and quite frankly I would rather get run over by a car again than listen to any of them.
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bluewasthecolor · 8 months
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What were your thoughts on the game?
what a GREAT question! for clarification i didn’t actually watch the game because i was asleep and now i’m in the car so this is more post-game, big picture thoughts.
first of all, i’m obviously devastated. i love this team and wanted to see them do well. i’m having big feelings for soph because she’s gonna be shouldering a lot of the blame for this loss when she is absolutely not to blame here. who is to blame, you ask? vlatko. that man does not have an ounce of understanding of the uswnt in his body. sometimes teams lose and that’s literally just how sports work and i’m not even a tiny bit worried about the players on the team. the right coach will know how to help them gel.
in my opinion, however, there are two silver linings.
first: no more vlatko! he’s as good as already fired - this is the first time EVER that the uswnt hasn’t made it to the finals in consecutive major tournaments. i have thoughts on who i’d like to see replace him (and can share in another post if you’re curious) but what i’ll say right now is that it needs to be a woman.
second: as much as i wanted to see the three-peat i think it’s kind of good the us lost. the women’s game is growing and i’m excited to see someone else win. ESPECIALLY if it’s a non-european team. winning a world cup undeniably brings press to the team and it’s going to move women’s soccer forward further. i have my favorites to win but honestly i’m just excited to watch the rest of the wc.
anyways that’s enough from me! send asks please i’m waiting for a ferry and have nothing to do :)
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bluewasthecolor · 8 months
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forever. you’ll take her from reign over my dead body.
So how long should we wait until we all start petitions to for Laura Harvey to be head coach
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bluewasthecolor · 8 months
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ok MOVING ON. i’m having kind of a mixed reaction here and if anybody wants me to share my (very muddled) thoughts let me know.
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bluewasthecolor · 8 months
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Well time for a new coach so something to look forward to
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bluewasthecolor · 8 months
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fuck
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bluewasthecolor · 8 months
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y’know what? penalties suck but i would put my trust in pinoe every fucking day.
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bluewasthecolor · 8 months
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I PURPOSEFULLY WAS NOT GOING TO GET UP FOR THIS GAME. I WAKE UP TO THIS?!?!?!
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bluewasthecolor · 8 months
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Fridolina rolfö fics, I repeat FRIDOLINA ROLFÖ FICS
oh my god you’re so right. expect to see one soon!
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bluewasthecolor · 8 months
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EXCUSE ME?!?!?!?! ROSE IS SERVING SO FUCKING HARD (so is sof but ROSEY OMFG)
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bluewasthecolor · 8 months
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ok ok i need world cup fic requests PLEASE
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bluewasthecolor · 8 months
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really loved the fic, it was so good!🫶🏼
ahhh thank you! i was pretty proud of this one tbh ;)
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bluewasthecolor · 8 months
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How You Get the Girl
Word Count: 3117
Warnings: None
A/N: Getting back into my writing era, I guess. This is for @lana-del-reys-gf because apparently this is something she wanted me to write and I (being the unbelievably kind and generous human that I am) happily obliged. Obviously, it's also for anyone else who wants to read it. As always, let me know if you like it and what other requests you have!
“G, wait.” You grab your best friend’s hand, stopping her before she can drag you into the bar. Georgia looks back at you with knit eyebrows. “I’m not sure about this. I don’t want them to think I’m trying to ruin your team bonding time.”
“Oh my god, Y/N.” She groans, tugging on your hand. You refuse to budge. “I already cleared it with the girls, they’re happy to have you. Who wouldn’t be excited to spend an evening with the Y/N Y/L/N, after all? Come on, idiot.”
With that, you allow her to lead you inside and to a booth filled with her Bayern teammates. They greet you, introducing themselves one by one (although you already know all of their names from playing against them at both the club and international levels for so long), and then settle into easy conversation. You observe, still not wanting to intrude on their time together despite Georgia’s insistence that you wouldn’t be. It’s nice to be on the outside for once, actually. You’ve been with Barcelona for so long that it’s impossible for you to feel like a stranger with those girls and while that’s usually a nice feeling it can get a bit overwhelming. They all know you so well that it’s impossible for you to be on the outside. Seeing a different team dynamic than the one you’re used to is unfamiliar but refreshing. 
“Hey, Y/N, wanna help me grab another round of drinks?” Sydney interrupts your train of thought, extending her hand to you. You allow yourself to be pulled to your feet and accompany her to the bar. 
“I noticed you getting a little quiet there and wanted a chance to get to know you on my own.” She explains as you walk side by side. You’re not complaining–Sydney’s gorgeous and you’ve been sneaking glances at her all night. 
“Ask me anything, I’m an open book.” You smile at your feet, appreciating the German’s genuine tone. 
“How did you and Georgia meet, exactly? You’re American and play for Barcelona, so I’m not exactly seeing the connection there.” She asks after you place your orders. 
“I actually played for City a ways back. We met there and something just clicked–she’s been my best friend ever since. I wanted her to come to Barca with Lucy and Keira last year but that clearly didn’t work out.” 
“I mean, it worked out for us.” Sydney jokes, nudging you. “G’s been a beast here. You should think about making a move - Munich’s a pretty cool city. Would you ever consider that? Leaving Barcelona, I mean?”
“Maybe someday, but not now. The team chemistry is unbelievable, you know? It feels like home and that’s a hard thing to find.” You surprise yourself with your honesty. Something about Sydney just makes you feel instantly at ease. “But tell me something about you. I feel like I’m doing all the talking here.”
“What do you wanna know? I’ll give you three questions.”
“What’s your favorite place in the world?”
“That’s too easy, even you should know that and we just met tonight. Munich. It’s my home.”
“Fair, fair.” You nod to yourself. “A harder question this time, then. What would be your perfect date?”
“I’m easy to please, honestly. Dinner, a walk, something with time for plenty of conversation. Last question.”
“Can I have your number?” The German woman is clearly surprised by this, but she smiles and gestures to your phone. You hand it to her and she puts her number in. 
“I’ll be expecting a text.” She winks at you and turns to head back to the booth, drinks in hand. You trail behind her, unsure of how a night out with Georgia and her teammates led to you getting Sydney Lohmann’s number. This was not at all how you’d expected the evening to go, but you weren’t exactly complaining. 
One Week Later
“Y/N! Get off your phone and join the fun!” Mapi teases from her spot on the couch, lunging to grab your phone from your hand. You dodge her, but in the process find yourself rolling onto the floor.
“You have been on that phone a lot lately, Y/N.” Keira chimes in. “Who are you talking to on that thing?”
“Sydney.”
“Sydney?”
“Lohmann.”
“As in the one that plays for Bayern?” This is Mapi again, her voice incredulous. You nod, blushing. “Y/N, I can’t believe you! I thought you were just visiting Georgia when you went to Munich but you were getting yourself a girl. And here I thought I was the slut of Barca.”
Mapi’s final comment earns her a shove, but in reality, her comments don’t bother you all that much. It’s only been a couple of weeks, but you’ve found yourself falling for Sydney quicker than you thought possible. She’s witty and kind and if you could talk to her 24 hours a day you would. Just as you’re thinking this, your phone buzzes.
Syd: Y/N? Still there?
Syd: You’ve gone dark on me
Y/N: Sorry, got pulled away there. 
Syd: All good. I had an idea while you were gone, though.
Y/N: Care to share?
Syd: Well, I’ve got some time off coming up…
Y/N: …?
Syd: And I was thinking that maybe I could come visit you
Syd: Only if you’re up for it, of course
Y/N: Are you serious?
Y/N: I would love that.
You can’t help the smile that breaks out on your face as you continue to text Sydney about her upcoming visit. The noise of your teammates fades into the background and she is all you can focus on. The fact that she’s so willing to come see you after only one in-person conversation adds a level of attractiveness to her persona that is new to you. You’re not used to women being so invested in spending time with you but it’s a welcome unfamiliarity. 
“Y/N, we’re going to get gelato, let’s go!” Ingrid’s voice pulls you from your thoughts and you look up to see your friends gathered at the door, looking at you expectantly. You scramble to join them, pulling your shoes and jacket on haphazardly. You slip your phone into your pocket, wanting to focus wholly on your team for the remainder of the night, but Sydney doesn’t leave your mind once.
Three Weeks Later
You shift nervously at the kitchen counter, trying not to let your anxiety get the best of you. Your eyes are locked on the door and you can’t seem to do anything other than wait. She’ll be here any minute and all of your attempts at distraction have failed. You’re not even sure why you’re so nervous–it’s not like this is your first time meeting and the two of you text practically nonstop. Still, though, this will be your first date (and, in true sapphic fashion, it will extend through the weekend as you insisted she stay with you instead of at a hotel). At this point, Sydney knows you better than most but you can’t shake your worries that when she arrives she’ll regret everything. 
All of this goes out the window when the door to your flat opens, however. You’ve intentionally left it unlocked and instructed her to let herself in, wanting to avoid the awkwardness of having to greet her at the door. Sydney walks in looking as though she’s just come from a spa rather than the airport, skin glowing and not a hair out of place. She stops in front of you and you have to remind yourself how to speak.
“You’re here.” Is all you can manage to say, a smile spreading across your face. She smiles back at you and nods, stepping closer to you. 
“I’m here.” She murmurs, grabbing your hands and pressing her forehead to yours. The sudden contact makes you inconceivably nervous, causing you to squirm out of her grasp.
“So!” Your voice is overly loud, compensating for the nerves you’re feeling. “I guess I should give you a tour of the place. This is the kitchen, obviously, and that’s the living room,” You make an awkward sweeping gesture in that direction. “I set up the sofa bed for you–it’s actually pretty comfortable. The bathroom’s over there and if you need anything else just let me know.” You begin to back slowly towards your room. “I’m gonna, um, go get ready now. Bye”
“Y/N?” Sydney stops you before you can shut your door. You look at her slowly, praying you haven’t somehow already messed this up, but a smirk is playing at her lips. “Pick you up at 6.”
-
Six o’clock comes much quicker than you anticipated and, before you know it, Sydney is knocking on your bedroom door. You swing it open to find her looking even more radiant than earlier in the day if that’s possible. Her brown hair is loose around her shoulders and she’s dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt. The simplicity suits her and will be perfect for your evening plans.
“I wasn’t sure what to wear since you refused to tell me where we’re going, so I had to guess.” She grumbles as you drag her out the door, grabbing the bag you had packed earlier. 
“You look perfect.” You reassure her, still not giving up any details about the date you have planned. Since the city is yours, it only seemed natural that you take the reins on planning your date, although Sydney had attempted to make an argument that she could show you parts of the city you’d never seen before (you were doubtful). The result of your careful planning means that much of your anxiety has dissipated. For the most part, you know what to expect for the rest of the evening and that fact alone brings you relief.  
After walking a ways, you arrive at a small park with a view overlooking the city. You lead Sydney to an empty spot in the grass and spread out the picnic blanket you’d stashed in the bag. She sits, pulling you down along with her. You immediately busy yourself with unpacking the meal you’d brought, not wanting to ruin the moment, but as it turns out you don’t have to worry. The silence is broken by Sydney’s laugh. You look at her, confused.
“Sorry, I’m not laughing at you.” She explains. “You just—you brought all my favorite snacks. I wasn’t sure what to say.”
“You sound surprised.” You say, raising your eyebrows. “You don’t think I pay attention to what you tell me?”
“No, it’s not that! I’ve just never had anyone plan such a specific date for me and I was…nervous I think? Not because of you! I mean, yes because of you, but, like, in a good way.” Sydney’s rambling proves to you that her nerves are just as high as yours and this makes you feel infinitely better–and instills you with a new sense of confidence. 
You lean forward, pulling the German in for a kiss and effectively shutting her up. It’s the first hat you share and it’s everything you’ve been waiting for. The second that your lips meet you know that it will be the first of many, not only tonight but for many months–years, even–going forward.
Later, when you return to your apartment, you linger in the doorway to your bedroom watching Sydney bustle about. She’s unpacking and getting water and somehow it’s all just so perfect. You’d set up the sofa bed for her, not wanting to be presumptuous, but all of your worries have gone out the window. Now all you want is for her to be the one sleeping next to you.
“Syd.” Your voice startles her and she looks up at you. “Do you wanna–you don’t have to–but would you want to sleep in my room, um, with me?”
“In your room.” A smirk is slowly spreading across Sydney’s face as she walks towards you. “With you. In your bed? I thought you’d never ask. I thought I was going to be banished to the sofa forever.”
“Shut up,” You can’t help the smile that creeps into your voice as you take her hand and lead her into your room. This is certainly going to be a very good night. 
Three Months Later
“I can’t just up and leave, Sydney! I have people here–a home here. I would never ask you to leave Munich for me.” You resist the urge to throw yourself face down onto the sofa as you pace, in the midst of a heated argument with your girlfriend.
“I don’t understand though, it’s not like I’m asking you to give everything up. Bayern made an offer, I’m just saying it would make a lot of sense. G is here and your family is back in the States anyways, so it’s not like you’d be losing much by moving.” You can hear Sydney sigh through the phone. “I want to be with you but this whole long-distance thing is hard, Y/N.”
This argument has been going on for the past week, ever since you were approached about a possible transfer to Bayern. You didn’t really even consider the offer but when you told Sydney she seemed to think that you should accept it. You can’t see yourself leaving Barcelona anytime in the near future, long-distance or not. 
“I know it’s hard, Syd. I know that. I miss you like crazy but I can’t leave my home.”
“So what do you suggest? We just keep doing long distance forever?” The bite in Sydney’s voice is unmissable and you wince slightly.
“I don’t know–I mean, no. Not forever. We’ll figure something out but I can’t leave right now. I’m not sure how else to explain it to you.”
“Let me know when you have a plan.” 
It’s clear that the German woman has become checked out of your relationship all in a matter of seconds and you know it will be easier for both of you if you don’t prolong the inevitable any further. 
“I think…” You pause, willing yourself to think of another solution. “I think we both need some space. Maybe this is it for us.”
“Yeah. Maybe it is.” Sydney’s voice has turned cold and there’s a distinct lack of emotions behind her words. “I guess this is goodbye.”
And with that, after the three blissful months you’d spent together, Sydney hangs up the phone, taking your heart along with her. In a rush of emotion, the tears you’d been holding in since your argument started begin to flow. You weren’t together for all that long, but even in the short months of your relationship, it became glaringly obvious that Sydney knows you better than anyone else–better, even, than Georgia. She listened and asked questions and was so unbelievably genuine that you often found yourself in disbelief that someone this perfect wanted you. You had just lost all of that. Everything you’d built, everything you had yet to build, was crumbling around you in a matter of moments.
One Week Later
A sudden knock on your door wakes you from your nap and you roll over to look at the clock, confused about who could be trying to visit you right now. It’s your one day off and you’re fairly certain that you’ve made it clear to Mapi that if she even thinks about dragging you to some coffee shop you’ll kill her. It’s been a week since the breakup but your schedule has been so busy that you really haven’t had time to wallow–today is the day you’d set aside for that. Somebody, however, seems to have different plans. Groggily you stumble to the front door and open it–the person on your doorstep isn’t Mapi or Keira or any other of your Barcelona teammates, but someone much more shocking. 
“Can I come in?” Sydney is soaked from the downpour outside and looks as frazzled as you feel. You stand to the side, letting her walk into your apartment. She sees herself over to the couch and sits down. You opt to stand in the kitchen, wary of why she’s here (both in your apartment and in Barcelona in general). 
“What are you doing here, Sydney?” You ask, arms folded against your chest. “You couldn’t have given me a little warning?”
“I’m sorry, I just–I had to see you.” The midfielder’s voice is shaky and as you look at her longer you can see just how red and puffy her eyes are. She’s been crying. “The way things ended between us, I just couldn’t bear it. I don’t want us to be over.”
“Well, me neither, but you made it pretty clear that if I don’t move to Munich we’re doomed.” As you speak, you move to sit next to her on the couch. “Unless that’s changed?”
“I still think living in different countries isn’t ideal–” Sydney starts, and with her words, your hopes deflate.
“So nothing’s changed then.” You cut her off, voice flat.
“You didn’t let me finish. I do think it would be easier if we were in the same place.” She takes your hand as she says this, and you don’t pull away. “But if I have to choose between what’s easy and what I want, I’m choosing what I want every time. Especially if what I want is you.”
“Okay, but Syd, you were right before. This whole long-distance thing is really really hard. There has to be something to make it easier, right?” You look at her almost pleadingly, hoping she’s come up with some sort of solution.
“I mean, I do have an idea.” Your ears perk up at Sydney’s words, “It’s not perfect but it might work. In the off-season, we find a place together–I don’t care where but I think for both of our sakes it might be best if it’s not Munich or Barcelona. Or we both evenly split time between the two cities? Either way, we’re always together. During our seasons we see each other every chance we can. It will still be hard but I think we can do it. What do you think?”
Instead of answering, you pull Sydney into you as a response. As her lips meet yours you are reminded of your first kiss, all those months ago on your first date. This kiss is different–you’re much more familiar with one another now, for one–but you get that same feeling as you did on that night. This kiss is indicative of much more than what is right in front of you. It’s indicative of everything to come.
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bluewasthecolor · 8 months
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It Hits Different (‘Cause It’s You) | Ona Batlle
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warnings: none
word count: 815
summary: ona’s fingers are cold, like really really cold
a/n: a short something in honor of ona’s first world cup game where she probably froze while playing and i definitely froze at melbourne’s fifa fan festival while watching her play
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New Zealand is cold. New Zealand in winter is cold and rainy.
Those are the first few thoughts you had as soon as your plane landed and you stepped out onto the pitch for your first training session in the host country itself.
Now, as you walk onto the pitch Spain would be playing their first World Cup game on, those thoughts are not gone but rather pushed to the back of your mind in favour of one other thought. You are going to be playing in your first World Cup game.
A hand slips into yours, bringing you out of your head.
‘Hola mi amor.’ You murmur.
‘Hi.’ Ona smiles at you, bringing your joined hands up to her lips so that she can press a kiss onto the back of your hand.
You give your girlfriend a kiss on her cheek in return.
‘Ready?’ She asks.
‘I was born ready.’ You answer, eliciting a giggle from the brunette.
Holding her hand in yours even as you move towards the gathering group of Spanish players, you realise how cold it is beginning to feel.
‘Are you sure you don’t want to put a pair of gloves on Oni? It’s 9 degrees and you’re definitely going to be freezing.’
Ona shakes her head, mumbling about how she doesn’t like the feel of gloves.
You sigh and let it go.
******
Your girlfriend pushes her hands into your lap, silently pleading with wide brown eyes for you to warm them up for her.
You do so immediately, blowing on them before rubbing each of her hands between yours. Your own hands that are warm thanks to the gloves you had worn during the warm up.
‘Ona mi amor, put a pair of gloves on before the game.’
‘I don’t need gloves, I have you.’ The fullback cheekily answers.
You roll your eyes and turn your attention back to Vilda who is going through some last minute tactics for the upcoming game against Costa Rica.
******
At half time, Ona doesn’t have to ask you to warm her hands up for her.
You do so immediately, pulling her shivering form into your side and covering her hands with yours. Her hands are white with how cold they are and you press a discreet kiss onto the shell of her ear.
Subtly, you push a pair of gloves towards her but your girl is far too distracted by how cold she is feeling.
‘Stupid rain.’ Ona complains and Aitana laughs from where she’s sitting, next to the both of you.
******
‘Ona!’ You gasp.
You don’t push her away only because you know that it’s your girlfriend’s touch.
When you turn around, you’re met with Ona’s grin.
It seems that despite having been subbed off a few minutes before the whistle had blown, your girlfriend hadn’t quite been able to warm up on the bench.
She pushes her too cold hands up a little further under your soaked jersey with a soft laugh.
‘Mi amor. Your hands are f-freezing.’
‘I know.’ Ona giggles.
‘I really should have worn gloves.’ She adds.
‘Mhm.’
You’re barely able to fight the urge to wriggle away from your girlfriend and her frozen hands as she takes advantage of your body’s warmth.
‘I love you.’ She says, her voice quiet but filled with adoration when she realises that despite how cold her hands are, you are willing to let her warm them up with your body heat.
‘I love you too. But I can love you while you warm up in the shower.’
Gently, you tug her into the showers and away from Vilda’s prying eyes, where you press a flurry of kisses onto your girlfriend’s face.
Ona hums, stroking the skin on your waist with her thumb.
Wholeheartedly, you tell her, ‘You played so well today. Bagged an assist too, superstar.’
‘I’m not so sure about superstar, I was just trying my best for this team.’ Ona murmurs, a bright pink blush colouring her cheeks.
She’s too cute you think.
‘Ona.’
‘Yes?’
‘You’re a superstar.’ Your tone leaves no room for argument, making even the tips of Ona’s ears flush as she hears your praise.
‘Okay.’ She accepts shyly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
‘Maybe my superstar can wear gloves for the next game? So that she wouldn’t need to use me as her personal heater?’
‘But I really like having you as my personal heater.’ Your girlfriend pouts.
‘You can always use me as your personal heater but please mi amor, wear a pair of gloves okay?’
‘Okay.’ She concedes and you smile.
‘Thank you love.’
Leaving her with an affectionate and grateful kiss pressed onto the corner of her mouth, you back out of the shower stall before any staff member can catch you.
Further PDA with your favourite person can wait till you’re both back at the hotel.
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Spanish Translation:
hola mi amor - hello my love
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bluewasthecolor · 8 months
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i love the fic so much! really missed your writing🫶🏼
thank you so much! i missed writing <3
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bluewasthecolor · 8 months
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The Worthwhile Fight
Word Count: 2450
Warnings: None
A/N: Sorry this has taken so long! Hopefully the WC inspires me to write more - I have a few WIPs that should be up in the next couple of weeks, fingers crossed. As always please let me know what you think and send any requests my way!
We are alone with our changing minds
We fall in love 'til it hurts or bleeds, or fades in time
“Like I told you, I don’t know if I can risk getting hurt like that again. But I also don’t know that I can avoid all the pain by not doing this. It might hurt just as much to walk away from this. So here’s what I’m thinking: we try again.” You’ve been trying to stay neutral as Alexia’s talking, but at this you can’t help the smile that emerges on your face. “Hang on, I’m not done. We try again, but we take it slow. We have to start over completely otherwise I’m afraid we’ll fall back into our old patterns.”
Your smile falters slightly and you have to remind yourself to keep breathing. Apparently you’d started holding it at some point. 
“So like…what does that mean exactly?” You ask, confused by what Alexia is suggesting.
“Well, to start, you have to ask me out. I asked you out last time, so it’s only fair. And then we can go from there.”
“Alright then. Ale, would you like to go on a date with me?” You ask, scooching closer to her in an unsubtle attempt to grab her hand. Alexia, however, pulls it away smirking.
“Hmmm…” She pretends to think and you smack her arm, unimpressed by her teasing. “I would love to. Are you free this Saturday?” “I have to wait until then?” You pout for a moment before she nods. “I suppose I’m free on Saturday. Does that mean I have to leave now?”
“Yep. Get out.” Alexia’s tone is light so you know she’s kidding, but you’re still wary of overstaying your welcome. You rise immediately and Alexia trails you to the door as she has so many times prior. This time, however, it’s not after a fight but also not after a date. You’re leaving her place not as her girlfriend, not as her ex, but as someone new. 
You come around and the armor falls
Pierce the room like a cannonball
From the minute Alexia opens the door, you’re fucked. You’d intended to play it cool tonight, not show too much of your hand (although your confession of love had given quite a bit away), but as soon as you see Alexia in that dress it’s all over. You have no chance at all and, by the look on her face, the Spaniard knows it.
“I–you look–wow.” You stammer, suddenly finding yourself incapable of forming a full sentence. Alexia simply smiles and takes your hand. As she leads you out onto the street and you begin your walk to the restaurant, you become lost in thought about how different this feels from the last time. You’re nervous, which is surprising considering you weren’t on your last first date, but you also know Alexia so much better this time. You know that she’ll likely want to go dancing after dinner and that if you skip dessert at the restaurant she’ll take you to her favorite gelato place. Just like Alexia knows that you’re probably going to kiss her when you drop her off (but you’ll refuse to go inside) and that you’ll finish your gelato in a millisecond and then try to steal hers.
When you arrive at the restaurant, you’re led to a small table in a secluded corner of the room, just as you’d requested. As you settle yourselves in your seats and begin to look over the menus, you can’t help but stare at Alexia. She’s radiant–she’s always radiant–but there’s something different tonight. The fatigue that’s been evident in her expression for the past few months, the fatigue that you know you caused, has started to fade.
“What?” She asks, smiling at you from across the table. “Do I have something on my face?”
“No, no sorry, I didn’t mean to stare,” You reach across the table to grab her hand. “I’m just so grateful that you agreed to do this with me.”
As your evening continues, you feel yourself relaxing more. Alexia is still Alexia, despite everything in your past. She still has the ability to make you feel as though nothing else in the world matters, as if you can let everything else go when you’re with her and know that everything will turn out alright. When she smiles at you and her eyes crinkle just so, you feel yourself begin to forget all of your worries. 
When dinner is over, just as you expected, Alexia grabs your hand and leads you to find gelato. When you’ve gotten your cones you sit on a bench outside, admiring the views of Barcelona at night. When you finish eating, neither of you makes a move to leave. You rest your head on her shoulder, she intertwines her hand with yours, and everything feels how it should.
As your night winds down and you find yourselves back where you started, at Alexia’s apartment, you let Alexia lead the way to her front door. When she goes to reach for her keys, however, you snake your arms around her waist and spin her so that her back is against the door. Her arms loop around your neck and you press your forehead to hers. For a moment you pause there, eyes closed, not wanting to break the spell. But then Alexia’s arms are tightening around your neck and she’s pulling you impossibly closer for a kiss that changes everything. It’s not your first, nor your last, but it signifies a change in your relationship. For the first time, neither of you is fighting for control or pushing it beyond a kiss. You’re content to just let it be.
We learn to live with the pain
Mosaic broken hearts
But this love is brave and wild
Two weeks later and everything is going better than you expected–it’s not easy by any means and it feels awkward at times, but it’s also so good. You quickly fall back into a rhythm with Alexia. Date night is on Wednesday, but you have dinner almost every night together at one of your places. One such night, you’ve ended up at Alexia’s flat and are sitting at the table together having just finished dinner. It’s getting late and you know you’ll have to excuse yourself soon. You’ve decided sleepovers are off the table for now, in light of the whole ‘starting over’ situation. That’s not to say you hadn’t found time for sex (you most definitely have) but you never wake up together. 
“Do you have any plans this weekend?” The Spaniard pulls you out of your thinking. When you look up at her, she has a smirk on her face and you can tell that she’s desperately trying to prolong your visit. 
“It’s getting late, Ale. I’ve gotta get going.” Unimpressed by her efforts, you rise from your seat and begin to walk towards the door. Instead of following you like she usually does, Alexia reaches out and grabs your wrist. 
“Stay.” Surprised, you look down at her. Her eyes are sincere and you can tell she really means it, but for whatever reason you still feel the need to protest.
“I don’t have a toothbrush or a change of clothes or anything.” “I have an extra toothbrush and you can wear some of my clothes to bed. Tomorrow is our day off so you don’t have to be anywhere early. Next argument.” Alexia quickly shuts down your excuses and pulls you to sit on her lap.
“Look, Ale.” You cup her hand with your face. “I don’t want to mess this up. We’ve been doing so well and I don’t want to take the chance that I might ruin us again. So if this isn’t really what you want, if you want me to go home–” Alexia cuts your rambling off with a kiss. When she pulls away, she looks up at you sincerely.
“Y/N. I know this is scary, but if we don’t do new things we can’t move forward. I’m sure about this and I’m not gonna pressure you, but if you want to spend the night I’d be more than thrilled to have you.” She presses a kiss to your cheek and you nod, standing before helping her to her feet. 
The Spaniard leads you to her bedroom and passes you a t-shirt. It’s always been one of your favorites of hers to wear: soft and worn from years of use. You brush your teeth together, crawl into bed together, and when you fall asleep that night, it’s in each other’s arms for the first time in months. 
The following morning you extricate yourself from Alexia’s arms slowly, careful not to wake your sleeping girlfriend. You pad slowly to her kitchen and start a pot of coffee before settling yourself on her balcony to watch the city wake up. You’ve always been an early riser, while Alexia is more of a night owl. She says she likes the feeling that she’s the last one awake in the world, a feeling that you’ve hated since you were a kid. You like the earliest hours of the day because it always feels like a fresh start. The previous day’s troubles can be forgotten and you have a clean slate. 
When the coffee is brewed you return inside and pour two mugs before tiptoeing back into Alexia’s bedroom. You place the mugs on her bedside table and crawl back into bed with her, rubbing her back softly. She stirs slightly, groaning and rolling over. 
“Time to get up, my love.” You murmur, continuing to rub her back. “I made coffee.”  
She rolls over, opening her eyes slowly.You pass her a cup of coffee as she sits up and she smiles gratefully at you. You know how important the ritual of morning coffee is to your girlfriend and you revel in the opportunity to take part in it. It’s a simple pleasure but the simplicity of it all is what attracts you to it. Her constant gratitude for the smallest moments in her life is one of your favorite qualities and this routine is one of your favorite ways to witness that appreciation. This morning, however, doubt accompanies your usual contentment and Alexia is quick to notice.
“You’re quieter than usual this morning,” She says, nudging you. “Is everything alright, amor?”
“Yes, yes, everything’s good. I’m just—are you sure about this?” 
“This…” The midfielder looks at you, perplexed. You gesture between the two of you, hoping to demonstrate your meaning. It works and her expression quickly shifts from confusion to concern. “You mean us? Of course I am. Where’s this coming from?” “It’s like I told you last night, I’m just so afraid to mess everything up. Ingrid told me how bad things were last time and I couldn’t bear to let it happen again. Aren’t you afraid I’ll hurt you?” “Y/N. Look at me.” She twists so that the two of you are facing each other fully. “If I were afraid, I wouldn't be this all in. I’d be running and hiding and trying to keep you at an arm’s length. Need I remind you that I asked you to stay the night? I wouldn’t have done that if I thought you were going to hurt me again.” 
You nod, comforted by her words. She does have a point, you suppose, although you’re still not entirely convinced. Only time will tell what will truly happen.
Love is a ruthless game
Unless you play it good and right
Something has to change. She knows it and you know it, but neither of you is willing to admit it. You’ve reached a point of stagnation in your relationship and it’s causing things to fall apart. First it was the weekly date nights. Those quickly morphed into the dinners you share most other nights—nice, but not particularly special as was the intention behind the dates. Next to go was the morning coffee ritual. You both found yourselves rushing in the morning, unable to find time to enjoy each other’s company. You’re dreading to see what changes next and this fear is what forces you to confront Alexia.
It’s after training one night that you finally muster up the courage to have a conversation. You wait until you’re both showered and have eaten, and sit the Spaniard down at the table with you, a serious look on your face.
“We’re not going anywhere, Ale. Everything’s been the same for the past six months. We both know it, we’ve both seen it affect our relationship. We have to make some sort of progress.” “I know. I know, mi amor, we’ve just been busy.” Alexia sighs, reaching across the table to take your hand. “I’ll be better. We’ll be better. We can have our date nights again and wake up earlier. We can make this work.” “No.” You shake your head and your girlfriend’s face falls. “I think we need to make a bigger change than that. I think we should move in together.”
-
After three months of living together, you’re pretty convinced you know everything there is to know about Alexia Putellas. Her quirks, her superstitions, how she takes her tea–you know it all. Today, you’re putting that theory to the test.
“Alright, here’s how it’s going to work, you two.” The social media manager announces. “This is captain vs captain in a head to head trivia battle. The twist? All of the questions are about the other captain. Y/N, let’s start with you. When Alexia wakes up in the morning, what is the first thing she has to do?” 
“Please,” You scoff, hurrying to write on your white board. “If all the questions are this easy there’s no way I’m losing.”
The video continues like this, each of you taking turns answering questions about the other, and eventually you’ve both gotten every question right. When the camera crew clears out, Alexia turns to you.
“Looks like we’re even, huh? We know everything about one another.”
“I guess so. But there’s one thing you don’t know about me.” You can see Alexia’s face morph into confusion at the last part of your sentence, and you take advantage of the distraction to reach into your pocket. It takes her a moment, but when she realizes what you’re holding her breath catches.
“Alexia Putellas. I have loved you since the day I met you. We’ve been through everything together and I wouldn’t change that for the world. You show me every day what I’m capable of and you prove to me time and time again that our love is worth fighting for. Will you marry me?”
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