#leon fierce

[andro-dino]

what is up uh :squints at notes: beywheelz fandom

[stepmarchen]

Thinking a lot about this panel of the twins on the night before Jeremy's trial. They're scared to death about their older brother losing his hand (and effectively, his entire livelihood) and all they can do is comfort each other throughout the night. I can't believe how much they had to cope with during this time in their life.

To anyone who believes that the Neuschwanstein children were wrong for acting hostile towards Shuri, you have to understand that these kids went through A LOT off screen.

Remember, their mother died very early in their lives and barely three years later, their father followed in her footsteps. They all have abandonment issues and fear giving their hearts out to somebody new, especially a young girl who they expect to leave at any moment's notice.

This scene when Shuri caught a cold after being doused in a bucket of cold water got the comedic treatment but can you imagine what was going through Rachel and Leon's heads at the time?

At this point, they've seen two parental figures bedridden and driven to death and their minds go straight to thinking that Shuri might die too. They even ask "is fake mom going to die?"

Part of what makes the Neuschwanstein kids so fiercely protective of one another is that they've already lost so much. They always keep their guards up and they refuse to give up any more than what's been taken from them.

edit: i spelled they're wrong 😑 ignore my old tag

[horseracingweekly]

Happy Travers Day! Two Win And You’re In races, the Sword Dancer and Ballerina, will also be featured on today's card at Saratoga.

Good luck to all connections!

📸 @/eclipsesportswire on IG

[undefeatablesin]

Hi, I saw your last post!

It's a bit funny to me. I moved from Sonic to Castlevania precisely because Discourse made it intolerable to me, only to see that many people who produced content back in the day moved out of Castlevania for... Discourse, let's just say. But I think I still got the right timing, because not only I found a small yet tightknit community of game fans where I was free to be creative in my own way, now the game fandom is getting fed in all sorts of tasty ways <3

Anyway, my point is, while at first I didn't really like reblogging old art (which was a problem since the best art I've seen was made, like 10 years ago lol), you were one of the artists I found during my binge. I think your CV art is still striking to this day, although I have no doubts that you've improved further since then :) I especially like the way you use thick lines and bright colors, and the soft way you draw faces and the waves of the hair

(also, well, I'm biased because CoD is my favorite CV game, and you have drawn some spectacular Hector, Isaac and Trevor <3)

I think I just wanted to say that I fully understand the feeling of having to distance yourself from something you love, but still being tied to it. And if you ever decide to come back... we're using the tag "akumajou dracula" now. For Reasons ;)

Take care!

Hi there! Thanks for popping in ✨️

As someone who just watches from afar these days, seeing the paradigm shift starting to happen in the CV fandom right now has been pretty vindicating and uplifting! It is a much better time to be an active fan of the games than it was when I was participating in the community a few years ago, that's for sure.

I'm still really grateful even my old and less polished work was able to bring some joy to newcomers to the fandom though! It's been a really pleasant surprise to see the influx of engagement lately and I really appreciate you taking the time to stop by to mention it. I like to at least think my work has seen some improvement since then, so perhaps I'll put that theory to the test if I ever revisit some of my old CV art in the present 😂

Hector and Trevor are my beloveds right next to Leon and Mathias, all of which rotted my brain for immeasurable hours of my life, but they are hours I look back upon very fondly! It'd be a treat to draw them again some day with (potentially) new and improved skills and now seems like a great time to do so at that. I may not be an active participant in the fandom nowadays, but I will always be a lover of the franchise regardless 💙

Thank you for your kind words and the heads-up about the tag! I'll be sure to use it if I have anything new to bring to the scene.

[oathofpromises]

𝕐𝕠𝕦'𝕣𝕖 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕘𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕚𝕟' 𝕠𝕗𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕪. ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕠𝕟. 

[applebunch]

gemma....................

[ponyconductor]

Saratoga: Best Bets and Expert Analysis for Saturday 7/27/2024

Finally a gullet shot winner Friday at Saratoga. The train got the coal injection it needed heading into the weekend. Time to pounce. Race 6: 6 Furlongs. G1 Alfred G. Vanderbilt Handicap #5 Subrogate (7/2) – The Conductor likes this colt’s steady progression. He has improved with each start as a 3-year-old and looks ready to step up in class and take on graded stakes company. Subrogate looks to…

[deunmiu-dessie]

he misses you. he misses you like a flower misses the sun. like the desert misses the rain. like you are the entirety of his being. as if you hold the key to his fierce, thumping bloody heart within the palm of your hands, like he is nothing without you— and perhaps he isn't. he doesn't feel like himself, no, in fact, he feels empty. like a shell of the man he used to be before you. he feels as though the world has lost its color, its meaning, and it makes him feel bare— it makes him feel.

he misses you. he misses the warmth of your perfume, a sweet and spicy blended aroma of saffron and sugared lavender. he misses your smile, all wide and pretty— genuine and charming, and always all for him. he misses the sound of your laughter, raw and boisterous, but sometimes soft and breathy, intimate. he misses your kisses, shy and cloying— yet fierce and angry at times as well. he misses the small things, like the scatter of moles across the expanse of your body that he finds himself counting when he can't fall asleep. or the way you fuss over him, mumbling curses and your love for him all in the same sentence.

he is nothing without you, and he knows it all too well.

the soft jangle of your keys in the lock makes him look up from his journal, the door swinging open. and despite himself, he finds that he's softened underneath your warm, loving gaze. ah, he also misses the sound of your voice, euphonious and soft, a tone you use for him specifically.

❝why are you looking at me like that?❞

he can feel his heart dance within his chest, pounding fiercely as you slant your hip to the side, the very same hips he adores holding onto when swaying with you to music. your eyes, which always seem to sweep him under with their intensity with no fail, are glittering with mirth, it knocks the breath from his chest. ❝ i adore you,❞ he utters— he sounds like a fool in love, and he doesn't particularly mind it. your cheeks flush with color and you playfully roll your eyes. that's alright, you don't need to say it back, he knows.

❝help me with the groceries?❞

he? ⸺ SIMON, gojo satoru, DAMON SALVATORE, soap, older!TANJIRO, scott mccall, GAZ, clark kent, EMMETT CULLEN, leon kennedy, STEVE HARRINGTON, giyu tomioka, JOHN PRICE, loran, ULYSSES, rick grimes, KÖNIG, dick grayson, SPENCER REID.

honestly it can be anyone you envision.

[princessoflalaland]

it's no surprise that leon gets discouraged sometimes. after everything he's endured, after all the lives lost...sometimes he questions what his purpose is, if anything is ever really worth it.

he's reminded, though, that he's good for something: making you feel good. with his face buried between your plush thighs, he listens intently to how you praise him.

"just like that, baby. 's good, you're so good to me, fuck!" you pant, gripping his blond locks fiercely, eliciting a wanton groan from him.

your essence drips down his chin, his eyes glued to your chest, which rises and falls with labored breaths. he slides two of his thick fingers inside of your greedy hole, reveling in you squeeze him.

"you like that?" he mumbles against your cunt, the vibrations making you convulse. "yes, baby, i love it.." you momentarily open your eyes to find his. the desperation to please you swims in his pools of blue, and you're more than ready to drown in it. "i love you."

his dick just about tries to rip right through his clothes. "lemme suck your clit, baby. lemme make it feel good." and as he does your back makes a perfect arch off the bed. he keeps this up, and the pressure in your stomach will continue to build, edging you closer to your release. "love you so much, love hearing you..." his words sink into you, warm your body from the inside out.

"ohmygodohmygod, oh my fuuuck..!" you keen, fingers hastily pinching and rubbing your nipples.

"'m finally good for something, huh? please, look at me and tell i'm doin good." his cock aches, burns almost, in his pants. he's hoping he does a good enough job eating you out that you'll let him cum inside you.

"you're so good, leon." his cock twitches with each word, every time you say his name. "make me cum, make me cum please!"

his hips buck against the air reflexively, as if he's trying to fuck you through manifestation alone. suckling on your clit, he makes you cream on his tongue, your sweet essence making his mind go blank.

without meaning to, he cums in his pants, whimpering as he laps up everything he worked hard for. hopefully, despite cumming in the most pathetic way possible, you'll still let him fuck you.

[tsukivampyr]

take it out on me.

a leon kennedy x fem!reader oneshot.

warnings | fingering, unprotected sex, slight degradation and NOT proofread.

word count: 1,715

enjoy :P

Leon trudged through the door of his apartment, the faint light from the setting sun casting long shadows across the living room. His shoulders slumped, his face a canvas of weariness and frustration, as he kicked the door shut behind him with a little more force than necessary.

You looked up from your book, concerned about your boyfriend. "Leon?" You asked gently, as you put your book down on the couch. "What happened?"

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he ran a hand through his tousled hair, his jaw clenched tightly. You could see the tension radiating from his every muscle, the frustration that simmered just beneath the surface. He tossed his jacket onto a nearby chair with a heavy sigh.

"I failed," he finally muttered, his voice laced with a mixture of anger and disappointment. "I was supposed to get the intel, but... I just couldn't."

Your heart ached for him. Leon was always so hard on himself, holding himself to an almost impossibly high standard. You knew how much this mission had meant to him, how much pressure he had put on himself to succeed.

You got up and approached him slowly, reaching out to place a hand on his arm. "It's okay. You did your best."

He pulled away, stepping towards the kitchen and yanking the fridge door open. "My best wasn't good enough," he snapped, his voice harsh. "People are counting on me, and I let them down."

You flinched at the sharpness of his words, but you understood that his anger wasn't truly directed at you. It was directed at himself, at the situation, at the unfairness of it all. Still, it stung to see him so upset.

"Leon," You began again, trying to keep your voice calm and soothing. "You've done so much good. One setback doesn't erase all of that. You'll get another chance."

He slammed the fridge door shut, his eyes dark with frustration. "You don't get it," he said, his tone softer but still edged with anger. "You don't understand what it's like out there."

You felt a pang of helplessness. "You're right," You admitted. "I don't know what it's like. But I know you. I know how hard you fight, how much you care. And I know that you'll find a way to make things right."

For a moment, he just stood there, his expression conflicted. Then, with a heavy sigh, he leaned against the counter, his anger seeming to deflate. "I'm sorry," he murmured, rubbing a hand over his face.

You walked over and wrapped your arms around him, feeling the tension in his body slowly start to ease. "It's okay," You whispered. "I'm here for you, no matter what."

Leon hugged you back, his grip tight and almost desperate. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "You don't have to find out," You replied.

Leon took a deep breath, still holding you tightly. The frustration in his eyes was palpable, but beneath it, there was something else—a spark of longing, a need for release. You could feel the tension in his body, the unspent energy begging for an outlet.

"Leon," You whispered, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. "You can take your anger out on me, if you need to." You whispered quietly.

His eyes widened slightly, a mixture of surprise and confusion flickering across his face. "What are you talking about?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

You held his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest. "You need to let it out," you said softly. "All the anger, the frustration. You don't have to hold back with me."

"Are you sure?" He asked, his voice quiet.

"Yes," You breathed.

"I'm sure."

For a moment, he just stared at you, as if trying to process your words. Then something shifted in his expression—his eyes darkened, his jaw tightening. Without warning, he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you close, his lips crashing down on yours in a fierce, demanding kiss.

You gasped, your hands instinctively reaching up to clutch his shoulders. Leon's kiss was intense, a raw expression of all the emotions he had been bottling up. His hands roamed over your back, gripping you possessively, almost desperately.

With a growl, he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine. He lifted you effortlessly, setting you down on the kitchen counter. His big hands gripped your thighs, spreading them apart so he could step between them. You moaned softly, wrapping your legs around his waist. Leon’s kisses were growing more urgent, more insistent. He nipped at your lower lip, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, and you couldn't help but grind your clothed pussy onto him, your body responding to his every touch.

"You drive me crazy," he muttered, his lips trailing down your neck. "You know that?"

You tilted your head back, giving him better access. "Show me," You whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation.

Leon didn't need any more encouragement. He kissed his way down your neck, his hands sliding up your sides and under your shirt. His touch was rough, almost possessive, but it was exactly what you needed. You wanted him to lose control. His fingers dug into your skin as he lifted your shirt over your head, tossing it aside. His lips found your collarbone, then moved lower, his hot breath sending sparks of electricity through your body. You shivered, clutching at his shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh.

"God, I need you," he groaned, his voice thick with desire.

"Then take me," You replied breathlessly, your eyes locking onto his. "I'm yours."

That was all it took. With a primal growl, Leon claimed your lips again, his hands working quickly to remove the rest of your clothes. The frustration and anger he'd been holding onto melted away, replaced by a fierce, unbridled passion. In that moment, nothing else mattered. All the worries, the failures, the weight of the world—they all disappeared as you lost yourselves in each other. Leon's dominant side came out in full force, and you welcomed it, matching his intensity with your own.

Leon’s desperation was palpable, his every touch ignited by a fierce need. He pulled you closer, his body pressing against yours with an intensity that made you gasp. His hands roamed over your skin, rough and possessive, as if he needed to claim every inch of you.

"You're mine," he growled, his voice a low rumble in your ear. "Every part of you belongs to me."

You shivered at his words, a thrill running through you, your fingers digging into his back. "I'm yours." You whimpered.

He yanked your panties down, the fabric tearing slightly in his haste. His eyes were dark, almost wild, as he looked at you, his gaze filled with hunger and need. "Look at you," he muttered, his voice dripping with desire. "So needy, so desperate for me."

You moaned, his hands gripping your thighs once again, spreading them even wider. "Please, Leon," You begged.

"Please what?" he demanded, his lips curling into a smirk. "Tell me what you want."

"I want you," You replied, your voice barely more than a breath. "I need you inside me."

He chuckled darkly, his fingers teasing your entrance. "So eager," he said, his tone dusky. "You're such a good girl for me, aren't you? So ready to take everything I give you."

You nodded eagerly, your breath hitching, as his fingers slipped inside you.

His eyes flashed with something primal, his fingers moving faster, curling inside you to find that spot that made you see stars. "That's right," he murmured. "You're mine to use, mine to fuck."

You cried out in pleasure, your body responding to his words and touch with an intensity that made your head spin.

He pulled his fingers out, and you whimpered at the loss, but he quickly replaced them with the hard length of his cock, thrusting into you with a force that made you scream. "You like that, don't you?" he grunted, his voice rough with desire.

You sob, your nails scratching down his back. "I love it."

"Good," he growled, his pace relentless. "Because I'm not going to stop until you're screaming my name."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you clung to him, your body moving in sync with his. "Leon," You moaned, your voice high and desperate. "Please, don't stop."

He grinned, his lips grazing your neck. "I won't," he grunted, his thrusts growing even harder, deeper. "I want to hear you beg for it."

"Please," You begged, your voice breaking. "Please, Leon, I need you."

"That's right," he muttered, his breath hot against your skin. "Beg for it. Show me how much you want it."

"I wan’ it," You cried, your body trembling with need. "I want you badly, Leon."

He groaned, his grip on you tightening. "You're so fucking perfect," he growled, his voice filled with both love, and lust. "So tight, so wet. You're made for me."

You could feel your climax building, the pleasure overwhelming. "Leon," You gasped, your nails digging into his skin. "I'm gonna- "

"Come for me," He commanded, his voice rough and raspy. "Come all over my cock."

His words pushed you over the edge, and you cried out his name as the orgasm tore through you, your body convulsing with pleasure. Leon followed soon after, his own release shuddering through him as he came inside you.

You stayed like that for a moment, your bodies entwined, your breathing heavy. Leon's grip on you softened, and he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. "You're perfect," he whispered, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection. "So are you," You replied, your voice still breathless.

He pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes with a softness that belied the fierceness of your earlier encounter. "Thank you," he said quietly, his fingers brushing your cheek. "For being there for me. For letting me... let go."

You leaned into his touch, your heart full. "Always," You whispered. "I'll always be here for you, Leon. "

[just-a-ghost00]

Your next significant relationship - Who? When? Where?

Group 1 - Controler

Letters : N U Z E D M L K I O S Significant words/names/signs : SKZ, nudes, suki, soul, miso, sun, zen, Leo, kids, Nike, Mike, lion, Leon, noise, sound, Link, links, Dion, Zeus, Odin, Oden, onze (french for 11), douze (french for 12), uno, dos/due, dom, Muse, likes, silk, sold, DMs, solid, kudos, doki, slime, smile, Milo, miko

WHO ? - The Empress / STRENGTH / Herkimer diamond : power wash your energy This person is not what they seem. They may look harsh on the surface but deep down they are as fragile as Quartz. People may only judge them based on their looks and not who they are at there core. They are beautiful without a doubt. Extremely sensual and feminine. Their beauty feels ethereal. They are highly sensitive and spiritual. They could be a healer. The Herkimer diamond card mentions New York's Mohawk Valley where it can be found. So maybe this person is a New Yorker or they would like to travel to New York. With the strength card being related to fire, this person could have important fire placements in their chart (Leo, Sagittarius, Aries). They are powerful and determined. They know what they want and they won't back down no matter what you put them through. Though this person is affected by what people think of them, they would rather die than show it. They could have red hair. Their hair is rather long and straight. They like to wear bracelets. They are connected to the stars. They are grounded and protected by the universe. The Empress is also assiocated with Taurus. They present themselves as a woman. They feel close to their ancestors. It might be that there were warriors in their bloodline. Especially women. Their women ancestors were fierce in battle and they like to take after them and ask for their guidance. I'm feeling a strong connection to witches and shamans.

WHERE ? - 9 of swords / UNDERWORLD / Barite : get answers to your biggest questions. Places this person could be from or have been to at some point are : USA -> Nevada, Misouri, Georgia, Texas / China / India / Morocco / Mexico / Iran / Kazakhstan / Canada / Australia / Thailand / Nigeria / Peru / UK -> Scotland The 9 of swords card shows imagery of a woman lying down in the snow, with mountains in the background. So this person could live in a cold climate country/region. I'm thinking of the Alps, Himalaya, Caucasus, Alaska range. I'm thinking about Sweden, Denmark, Netherlands, Russia, Groenland, Iceland. Any city starting with a U or a B. Furthermore the character on the card has a dress with an important amount of stars on it, which reminded me of the European Union flag. In terms of the meeting, it could be through social media. The underworld card gives me a sense of mystery, of something being hidden. So it could be the dark web for some. Or on a website that keeps things hidden from people (i.e. content available only for subscribers or a private account). Also you could meet them in your dreams before you meet in 3D. Also, the underworld could be a metaphor for rave parties, clubs and so on. They could live or you could meet near an important building or monument.

WHEN ? - XXI The World / NATURE / Labradorite : protect your magic. The labradorite card mentions Aurora Borealis and the sign of Pisces. So Winter could be relevant, as well as the period from mid February to mid March. The number 21 could be relevent. So if we think in terms of dates it could be 02.21 or 03.21. The World speaks of cycles as well as the long term. So it could represent several years in terms of timing. When it comes to zodiac signs, The World is related to fixed signs. So Taurus, Leo, Scorpio and Aquarius season could be relevant as well. Which means that you could meet them between mid April to mid May, mid July to mid August, mid October to mid November or mid January to mid February. The World could also represent a time of your life when you are traveling abroad. Again, the character depicted on the card has a lot of stars in their hair. So I'm thinking of the USA as well as the EU. As she is dressed in red, holds red roses and has horns on her head, I'm also being reminded of Spain. The nature card could talk about a time of your life when you are in the wild, connecting with nature, taking a break from the drama of big city life.

Group 2 - Phone

Letters : T E N N U L N O R I S Significant words/names/signs : tennis, Noris, Noe, Noel, runs, Euro, sun, tenor, soul, norns, nine, tunes, Sonne (Rammstein song), Uriel, notes, nuns, trio, route, routines, Riolu (pokémon name), Loire (region in France), Lorie, LOTR, rise, sonnet, soir (french word for evening), nuit (french for night), riots, Lise, lotus

WHO? - IV The Emporor / Sacred Sexuality / Sapphire : find your tranquil place. This person is very masculine and grounded. They could be a father and/or a leader, a mentor, an entrepreneur. The sign of Aries could be significant. They are incredibly determined and strong. Their sexual drive is high. They pay a lot of attention to their health and appearance. They have a lot of sex appeal. This person could be in the fashion industry or could even be that they get money from people watching their body (selling pictures of them, having access to private erotic content). They could have a bit of a bad temper. Piercings also seem significant. On the sacred sexuality card, there’s a full moon and roses. This tell me this person is a romantic and is more of a night owl. They have an important status. We’re talking about company owners, freelance artists, lawyers, head officers, doctors, headmasters of big schools, politicians and so on.

WHERE? - 6 of swords / MOVEMENT / Garnet : get into your depth. -> places they could be from or have gone to : Czekoslovakia, Kenya, Madagascar, India. The 6 of swords depicts a beautiful woman rowing a boat on a lake. Behind her is a white mountain. In her boat are two herons. So Africa seems significant, particularly Tanzania where Kilimandjaro can be found. I’m also thinking of the Mt Fuji in Japan, in Yamanashi. This person lives near an important body of water. Or you might meet them there. Another thing that is significant is movement. So you could meet them where you’re going on a trip, as you travel or relocate. You could meet them on a boat. Anyplace you want to create something (art, music, writing and so on). When looking at « get into your depth » this gives me the feeling you could meet this person in the 5D before meeting them in person, like through dreams or meditation.

WHEN? Queen of wands and VI The Lovers - DARE TO DREAM - Citrine : manifest your masterpiece. First of all I have to say, when I was shuffling the cards for the WHEN? the bells of the nearby Church started ringing. So this tells me when you're going to Church either for communion or for a wedding. Summer is significant, especially from mid June to mid July. I would even say the month of June is the most significant of the two. When you go after your dreams, you will meet this person. On the DARE TO DREAM card, you can see a diamond trapped in an eagle's claw. For some reasons it reminded me of metal and rock bands, of concerts and big events like the Superbowl. So maybe one of your dreams is to go watch your favorite band/artist live or to go to Hellfest or any big convention that is happening in Summer. If there are any French people here, I'm thinking of the Olympics happening this Summer in Paris. And also the Japan Expo convention. In terms of timing, I’d say in a few months.

Group 3 - Mirror

First of all I want to say my coffee spilled as I did your reading. So either you or this person is super clumsy and/or coffee is significant in your relationship. Letters : E L I C O O E U J I A Y

Words/names/signs : Jay, Jey, Joy, Jolie, Julia, Julie, Jule, July, Lucy, cool, jail, Luc, Loïc, Alice, ciel (French for Sky), clue, juice, école (French for school), eco , CEO, Lucie, Lucia, Cloe

WHO? - XVII The Star / Ancestors / Obsidian : protect your soul. Aquarius comes in strongly for this reading. This person is an introvert. They are often seen as a daydreamer, someone that doesn’t care about earthly life. They look like their head is in the stars. Which, in some way is true. This person connects strongly with the Ethers. Social media seems to be important. They could be an influencer or have a certain amount of followers that they help. Think of tarot readings, raising awareness about certain subjects (mental health, disabilities, menstrual cycle, sexuality and so on). This person could be famous in some type of way or they are going to be at some point in their life. Overall they have a good reputation among their peers. They are valued for their work ethic and their deep insights. They are divinely protected. Family business comes to mind. They care about family a lot, especially the deceased ones. This person would be the type to seek out advice from their ancestors or try to honor them as much as they can. Scorpio is also a sign that seems relevant. I don’t know why but I thought of a surgeon. So maybe they have undergone an important surgery. Or they are very sharp. Because I definitely don’t feel this person is a surgeon. Well it could be, but honestly I feel more the energy of influencers and public speakers, like ambassadors of NGOs and stuff like that. Soft and caring, they feel and look rather feminine. Giving more than receiving. They love animals. They draw a lot of attention just from their presence. I think their aura is pretty strong and vibrant. Connected to nature, especially trees and plants.

WHERE? - 7 of pentacles / movement / Herkimer diamond You could meet at work, as you’re changing jobs or they are. During a break at work while you’re printing/scanning papers. In sacred spaces. New York. Somewhere in a lot of greenery like a park or a farm. As for places they could come from or have been to, we have : Norway, Ukraine, Arizona, China, Afghanistan, Herkimer county. If not these places, there could be farms where this person lives. Also they live in a place where there is a lot of activity, especially work wise. So this makes me think of hot spots like La Défense in Paris where a lot of businesses and political administrations can be found. Other places like that would be : Midtown New York, La City London, Marunouchi Tokyo, The Loop Chicago, Bankenviertel Frankfurt, Zuidas Amsterdam, Gangnam Seoul and so on.

WHEN? - 4 of swords / Death / Aquamarine : Keep your cool. You could meet on the fourth of a month, in April. At a time when you’ve lost your voice or when you are going Hermit mode, when you are sick or when you are mourning a loss. During a period of depression. During Scorpio season. In several weeks. Also it could be when someone or something pushes your buttons but you can’t express your frustration somehow. That could be anything really. Like queueing for registration in a building and someone is trying to take your spot. Or shopping at the mall and a customer is being super rude but since there are children around you can’t fully tell this person what you think of their attitude. Stuff like that.

[andro-dino]

lots of my time watching beyraiderz was spent screaming for these two to kiss (so I drew that)

[ninibeingdelulu]

How he react when you…

ft. leon kennedy, cloud strife, zack fair, simon “ghost” riley

How he react when you kiss/lick/nibble his earlobe/neck/jaw.

Leon Kennedy -

The hardened former rookie cop would freeze completely still at the first intimate swipe of your tongue along the wiry tendon of his neck. Eyes fluttering shut, Leon would fight back a full-body shudder, teeth gritting as that rugged jaw twitches with mounting restraint.

As your nibbles and caresses increased against the sensitive flesh behind his ear, his calloused palms would clench into white-knuckled fists. Battling the ingrained instinct to defensively seize and subdue like with any other threat. Until, at last, Leon can resist no longer.

A strangled rumble erupts from his broad chest as he twists with feline grace to back you against the nearest solid surface. Pupils blown wide with smoldering hunger, he braces one strong forearm by your head as the other hand cups your nape with surprising tenderness despite the desperation ravening behind each fevered caress of his lips along your jawline. The first of many tremors to rack your entire frame that night.

Cloud Strife -

The stalwart AVALANCHE mercenary lurches as if jolted by a live current when the first pass of your tongue grazes that sensitive spot below his jaw. Spiky blond brows knit sharply over those blazing mako-tinged eyes squeezing shut on a guttural groan torn straight from his diaphragm.

Though his initial fists clench at his sides instinctively, Cloud permits no further retaliation - whether physical or to extract himself from your wandering affections. Quite the opposite, in fact. His head lolls aside, granting you ample access to continue feathering scorching kisses and teasing flicks of your tongue along the sensitive column of his throat.

Only once your relentless sensual torment threatens to buckle those powerful thighs entirely does Cloud shudder and haul you flush against him with dizzying abruptness. Equal parts possessive and reverent, he claims your parted lips in a soul-searing kiss, broad palms framing your face like a precious treasure as he savors every ardent swirl of your twined tongues.

Zack Fair -

That blinding, boyish smile wouldn't dim one iota as your teasing ministrations first make contact. At least, not outwardly. Inside, however, Zack's breath would leave him in a harsh gust as electricity lances up his spine from the languid glide of your mouth torturing that sensitive zone.

Far from the fierce, untamed passion of some of his counterparts, Zack would be endearingly awestruck and bashful at the outpouring of tenderness behind such a simple act. His fingers would splay tenderly through your hair, those sparkling blue eyes crinkling at the corners with unbridled adoration as you eagerly bestow your affections over every inch of accessible flesh.

Inevitably, he'd succumb to the smoldering fog of arousal steadily consuming every rational thought. Zack's doting caresses would roam freely along the sculpted planes of your body, lavishing you in turn with a breathless reverence and earnestness reserved for only you until the lines blurred completely between worshiper and revered.

Ghost -

One glimpse of that icy blue glare, and you'd know the elite marksman's mind was already whirring through a dozen calculated scenarios and counterattacks as soon as your lips made contact. Every toned muscle would go rigid, coiled like a cobra ready to strike or retreat at the first suspicious provocation.

Until, of course, realization trickles through that predatory hyper-alertness - this tantalizing torment stems from no external threat whatsoever, only the exquisite onslaught of pleasure steadily unravelling his razor-sharp restraint. As your roving mouth brands a searing path along Ghost's neck and jaw, his broad shoulders would slump minutely, permitting the faintest hitch of an indrawn breath to escape those chapped lips.

No vocalized encouragement or returned passion yet; such overt displays would likely always be suppressed lest they expose potential weaknesses to be exploited in the field. But like a silent storm front rolling in, Ghost's heated stare would spark with a new, tangible intensity wholly untamed and promising of the inevitable downpour still to come at your unhurried pace.

[horseracingweekly]

The post positions are set for the 155th running of the Grade 1 Travers! 🌟

[oathofpromises]

‘ here, i need to put pressure on the wound. ’ / helena

A burning sensation radiated through Helena's right shoulder as she winced. Although the woman had assumed she would be accustomed to being shot at, it never got any simpler. She closed her eyes and peered past Leon to a nearby burning structure. How many more victims had to endure the pain before it was enough? While he was tending to the burn-infested injury, a pair of brown eyes slowly turned to the other. 

Reaching up, she attempted to push his hand away from her. They were both moving more slowly because of her. A thought that only made her irritated. She had a serious expression on her face, frustrated at her own weakness. Despite her best efforts to remain calm, the pain was excruciating, despite how minor it seemed to look. 

Just move forward; I'm only slowing you down. If we wait here to tend to this, more people will get hurt. Please, Leon, just leave me.” 

Perhaps this was the result of all the decisions she had made throughout her life. Helena was led by her emotions, and the majority of the time it seemed like such a terrible thing. She first attacked her sister's abusive boyfriend, a memory she never wanted to relive, and then tried to save her by almost destroying the entire planet. She was all too aware of what others thought of her. They believed that Leon was the only reason she had escaped punishment, and perhaps this was partially accurate. While Helena appreciated the others standing up for her, there was a part of her that believed she deserved to be punished even more. The president was gone because of her, and yet some people forgave her for everything she did.  

“Leon..I appreciate you trying to help, but you need to leave. If we get caught by those bioweapons, we won’t live to see another day. Please do me a favor and just escape. I’m not worth it. " 

In Helena's opinion, Leon should be the one to despise her the most; she didn't feel deserving of such kindness. Despite everything that had occurred, he still felt a desire to be concerned for her well-being. Leon, however, simply seemed to be that way all the time. Even if someone had done him wrong, he still tried to save him. But over time, that did seem to change, and Helena was worried about it. Her hand slowly extended and was placed against Leon's face. She developed a subtle smile. It was a friendly gesture, as she wanted him to stop and look at her. 

“Leon, you’ve been nothing but understanding. Especially after everything I’ve done... But you can hate me for what happened to Adam. I deserve it after all. I’d rather you hate me than feel the need to push those feelings aside. " 

The man had pushed so much to the margins for so long, the least she could do was allow him to truly express his feelings. Even if it hurt to have someone she worked with so closely turn against her. Could she blame him if he truly did detest her for everything? She could see it in his eyes, the look of someone that has lost so much. Been forced to give most of his life in the service of others. It would wear anyone down. 

How often had Helena tried to push her emotions and failed at it. Been forced against her will to betray the people she was sworn to protect. Most would consider her a traitor to the country, and others just saw her as someone guided by how she felt too much. A small laugh left her mouth, recalling how often her dad scolded her for failing to focus on the mission. She did care about the objective but, at the end of the day, she was more worried about the people caught in the crossfire. How much it hurt to recall how much her own sister was used as leverage against her. 

“I just want to know..if you hate me. We never got a chance to really talk about things, and perhaps if I had been honest at the start we wouldn’t have gotten into that mess. I was wary to be front about everything. Too afraid, if I did, my sister would suffer anymore. I wanted to keep her safe, and even that I failed at.” 

So many people hated Helena, and she couldn’t fault them for feeling that way. At this point the woman hated herself too. Slowly, she let her hand fall from his face, vision becoming more blurred. It was so hard to stay awake. 

“So tired..” she mumbled, before her head started to drop slightly. 

[helen-with-an-a]

Short but Mighty

Hi. So this is a request I got and I absolutely loved writing it. It's a little on the long side but I really hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Also, just imagine no one is injured in either team and it’s Arsenal not Chelsea against Barca in the UWCL this year. Another side note is that I am 5’6/5’7 so I don’t really have much of a frame of reference for being short/shorter but I hope I’ve done it justice 🩷

Lucy Bronze x Reader

Description: R is short and a little angry

Word Count: 4.8k

“She’s so angry because her attitude has been compressed into that small body”

“Have you ever noticed that in every friend group, the shortest one is usually the craziest?”

“Short girls are mean because they are closer to hell”

“If you think she’s short, you should see her patience”

“The smaller the creature, the bolder its spirit”

“Like a chihuahua”

“And though she be but little, she is fierce”

You had heard it all. Even Shakespeare had commented on it. Every comment about short and angry people ever made – you had heard it all. But the thing was, you weren’t short. You were 5 foot 3 inches. 160cm. The average height for women in the UK – you would know; you googled it to make sure. But for some reason, every person on your team was a bloody giant – towering over you, making you look even shorter. Except for Aitana – she was the only one who truly understood your pain.

At first, it bothered you. Growing up, you were constantly being leant on by your friends or patted on the head; your coaches affectionately called you ‘short stuff’. It really, really pissed you off. You saw players on the field consider you a joke of an opponent as you stepped onto the field. So, you started to build muscle, lifting heavier, adjusting your diet, and altering your lifestyle as much as possible while remaining healthy. When you made your senior debut at just 17, you could lift well over 1.5 of your body weight. You also channelled that muscle into your speed, earning a reputation for being the fastest on the pitch. On paper, a defending midfielder of your height was laughable, but when the challengers on the pitch saw your name in the Starting XI, they would quake with fear.

Despite all the comments, they were right about your supposed anger. You don’t know whether it was you being unafraid to utilise your body on the pitch or something else entirely, but you were frequently topping the table with the number of yellow cards at the end of the season. Personally, you believed the refs had a vendetta against you; your reputation preceded you, so they felt it was necessary to uphold it – often giving you cards for something that would have been just a caution for anything else. You did pride yourself on never receiving a straight red (only double-yellows) – something that Lucy frequently reminded you; it wasn’t that impressive as many people didn’t receive straight reds. You weren’t an aggressive player by any means. As soon as that whistle went, you were the first to offer a helping hand. You had never injured anyone – ever. That was something else you were proud of. Whilst you often got yellows for the tackle, you never left any lasting marks. Were you physical? Yes. Were you aggressive? No.

It was the only thing people had spoken about in weeks. Arsenal vs. Barcelona in the Champions League semi-final. Walsh vs. Williamson; Russo, Lacasse and Blackstenius vs. Leon, Bronze and Batlle; Little vs. Putellas; Codina vs her old club; Paralluelo, Pina and Caldentey vs Wubben-Moy, Catley and Fox; Y/S/N vs. McCabe. That was the big one – two of the most carded players in their leagues battling it out for a chance to snatch the other’s chance of a Champions League title. Alexia had been pestering you since the draw was made about your behaviour. She wouldn’t hesitate to bench you if you were acting out. Her tactics were based on negative reinforcement. It hadn’t worked – all her threats, lectures, and pressures were rendered null because you knew how physical these matches would be. You knew Jona would put on the most physical players, at least to start with.

Lucy, on the other hand, relied on positive reinforcement. As your girlfriend, she was always in your corner, especially on the pitch when a card was lifted above your head. But she didn’t like how often you were suspended or how often your abilities were outshone by the number of yellows next to your name. Your technical prowess was often overlooked by commentators and fans because of the cards.

“You know,” Lucy started, her fingertips brushing your neck as she pulled your hair out of her way. You were standing at the kitchen counter, looking at a recipe on your phone as you planned out your tea.

“What do I know, gorgeous?” you teased, tilting your head up to look at her. Your hands came to rest on top of hers on your waist.

“I think we should set up a sticker chart system or something. What do you think?” She mused, starting an assault on your neck.

“N-no marks, my love,” you stuttered out automatically but leaning back into her body anyway.

“I know.” You could feel the grin against your skin. “But you didn’t answer my question, lovely.” She nipped at your earlobe gently.

“Stickers … what for?” You turned around in her arms, coming to look at her. She didn’t stop her attack, her strong hands coming to angle your head so she had more access to your jaw. You let your eyes slip closed, getting lost in the feeling of her mouth on you.

“As a way to … combat?... your little card problem.” That sobered you right up. You pushed her way and raised an unamused eyebrow at her.

“My card problem?” You snarked.

“Alexia has been on my arse about getting you to … calm down … during matches,” she explained, choosing her words carefully. She moved to put her hands back on your hips, but you stopped her with a hand on her chest.

“So, you went with a sticker chart?” you asked incredulously. “I’m not a child, Lucy.” You never called her Lucy unless you were angry at her; she was always ‘gorgeous’ or ‘my love’, just like you were always ‘lovely’ or ‘pretty girl’ to her.

“I know you’re not, pretty girl.” She cupped your face with her hand. “I think I phrased myself badly. I’m sorry.” Her thumb moved methodically against your cheek, an action that has always calmed you. “How about a little reward system?” She grinned cheekily at you as you narrowed your eyes. “For every match without a card, I’ll treat you?” She proposed.

“I don’t need a-” you started, still annoyed that your girlfriend and your captain felt it necessary to set up a system to manage your behaviour.

“Alexia has been on my arse about this for weeks. She’s serious about benching you, lovely.” She interrupted. You sighed. You were well aware of what Alexia considered unacceptable in the Barca team – and the number of yellow cards you received was one of them. “So, what do you think? I think it’s a win-win situation if you ask me. Alexia will finally back off and not be a minute away from a heart attack, and you get …” she paused, thinking of the right way to phrase it. “Whatever your heart desires.” You could see her reasoning. Judging by the vein in Alexia’s forehead, she wasn’t coping too well with the idea that you would face McCabe in a few weeks. And you get weekly treats if you avoid yellow cards.

“Whatever I want?” You double-checked. Lucy could see you were already agreeing to her idea.

“Whatever. You. Want. Pretty girl.” She punctuated each word with a kiss.

“So, if I wanted a fancy date night at that place in town?” Lucy wasn’t the biggest fan of dates where you had to dress up all fancy – she thought it wasn’t an accurate and complete representation of your relationship. She loved taking you to smaller, more casual restaurants where you could relax, order something to-go, or just cook a nicer meal at home. But Mapi had shown you a place she was planning to take Ingrid for their anniversary, and you had fallen in love – begging Lucy to go on a date there with you. What you didn’t know she was saving it for when she proposed – the ring hidden with her Euro medal buried in the depths of the cupboard in your spare room.

“Whatever you want.” She smiled at your shocked expression.

“Or if I wanted a spa day at home on our day off?” you asked, checking how far she would be willing to go. She would much rather do something on your day off to keep her body moving a little, whereas you would rather lounge on the couch, catching up on your show.

“Whatever you want.” She repeated, leaning down to kiss the corner of your mouth.

“Or…” you tried to think of something she would say no to. “If I asked you to put on my old United jersey? And take a photo in it? And post it on social media?” Your request was ridiculous, but you knew it was something she would never, ever say no to. You had played for United while she was at City, moving to Lyon together, where your relationship had budded into what it is now, before returning to your respective clubs. You were friends before Lyon, having played with each other on the England squad for years, but moving to the new city together had led to something magical. The rival was a constant joke between you, often tuning in to the Derby’s when your schedule allowed for it – her and Keira on one couch, you and Ona on the other – all clad in your particular colours and fighting for the right to brag.

“Whatever you want.” She sighed but loved the fact that it brought that big, wide grin of yours to your face.

“What about if I asked for control?” You wiggled your eyebrow and scanned her body appreciatively, indicating precisely what you hinted at. You could see her eyes flicker slightly, making you think you had found the thing she wouldn’t do as your reward. Lucy loved being in control, and you didn’t mind letting her do it. But occasionally, very, very occasionally, she handed over the ropes (figuratively and literally) to you.

“What. Ever. You. Want,” she said lowly, silencing any more of your questions with a passionate kiss.

This was it. The big day. The first leg of the Champions League semi-final. Arsenal vs. Barcelona. McCabe vs. Y/S/N. You had been good to your word – the reward system was working well. So far, Lucy had treated you to a day at the beach, a nice meal, a new set of lingerie, and a day trip with you to Tarragona on a day off. Four treats for your four matches without a yellow. It would have been more, but you picked up a yellow card during your match with Real Madrid. But this … this was your big test.

“Todas mantienen la cabeza,” Alexia said just before you all left the changing rooms. She said it to everyone, but you know it was aimed at you.

“What do you want your reward to be, pretty girl?” Lucy asked you as you performed your final pre-match ritual (a quick roll of deodorant, a pump of breath spray, and a spritz of perfume—you’re welcome, everyone on the field).

“Not sure, I’ve got an idea, but I might wait for the final for that one,” you winked cheekily at her, giving her an indication of what you were insinuating. She sighed, shaking her head at you.

“Later,” she promised as she guided you into the tunnel.

This match was not going to plan for you. Ona and Pina had already picked up yellows for dissent, and you were only 30 minutes into the match. You were on your best behaviour – even going so far as not to tackle Katie when you would usually have. You could see how much less stress Lucy was under with every game you played where you didn’t have your name on the card list. You weren’t behaving for yourself – you couldn’t care less if you were benched (slight exaggeration, but the sentiment remained). You were doing it for Lucy; her frown lines were easing somewhat; her muscles were less tense; she was sleeping much better. You hadn’t realised your actions added much to her plate.

And then Katie left a studs-up tackle on Lucy and didn’t get carded or even a foul. You were near her when it happened. Lucy was running down the wing with the ball at her feet, you were dropping back a little, allowing her the space to make a cross to an awaiting Patri and Aitana. Katie’s yellow boots appeared from nowhere and clipped her ankles – not even making an attempt to get the ball. It was an obvious card, yet the ref motioned to carry on whilst Lucy was on her knees, clutching at her ankle, her eyes scrunched shut at the pain.

Eventually, the whistle was blown when it was apparent that Lucy wasn’t standing up. You crouched at her side, a hand coming to rub at her back.

“Do you need the medics, my love?” You asked, the tone gentle in comparison to the fury you were filled with.

“Just … gimme a minute,” she gasped. You nodded even though she couldn’t see you, your hand resting on her lower back in silent support.

“Estás bien? Está ella bien? Necesitamos a los fisios?” Alexia gushed as she came to your side, a concerned Patri and Marta joining her.

“Ella esta bien,” you said, your words supported by Lucy’s actions as she moved to stand up. You briefly scanned her, nodding to yourself as you confirmed she was fine.

The switch in you was instant. McCabe needed to pay for that. And if the ref wasn’t going to do it, you would.

“Don’t,” Lucy said at the same time as Alexia uttered “no”. You just waved them off, smiling innocently at them as you set up for the corner kick.

The incident that got you the card was well deserved. You had only 2 minutes left of the half – not including injury time – and Katie was starting a last-minute Arsenal press. You were winning comfortably at 3 – 0, but you knew Arsenal would come out hard in the next half; they weren’t called ‘second halfsenal’ for nothing. Could you have gone for a clean tackle? Probably. Could you have just tackled her in general? Yes. But it wouldn’t have been nearly as satisfying as watching her fly to the ground. She ran full speed down the wing, not looking where her defenders were. You timed your run well, bracing your body as she slammed into you. You had bothered to stick out your leg to make it look like you were aiming for the ball, but everyone, on and off the pitch, knew you were going for revenge. She clattered to the ground in a pile of red and white, and a torrent of Irish-accented swears erupted from her.

You were immediately faced with an angry Aussie. Caitlin shoved your shoulders as she demanded retribution for you. You lifted your hands innocently.

“I was going for the ball,” you said, shrugging a little. You could see the referee approaching, Alexia looking furious at you, and Lucy shaking her head. Still, you could see her smiling – finding the situation at least somewhat amusing. “I was going for the ball,” you repeated to the ref, ignoring the shouts from the Arsenal girls. “See, she’s fine.” You gestured to a now-standing McCabe. It didn’t help your case; the yellow square was lifted above your head as you rolled your eyes.

“Fucking short-arse bitch” you heard McCabe mutter as you all walked away, ready to finish this half.

“And yet, I still put you on the ground,” you smirked at her, letting Lucy drag you away.

Halftime was full of Alexia's lecture. You looked to Jona to see if he would intervene, but he just shrugged. When he saw Lucy go down from a dodgy tackle, he expected nothing less from you.

“Prometiste que te portarías lo mejor posible.”

“She’s still walking, isn’t she?” You weren’t about to apologise for this. This was your style of play; she knew that when you joined the team; Barca knew it when they signed you.

“Qué dije de los amarillos? Te pedí que no los consiguieras. Y que haces?” She continued as if you hadn’t spoken. “Necesitas empezar a actuar de forma más adulta al respecto. No necesitas ser cardada por todo. Recibir tarjetas todo el tiempo es muy inmaduro. No tienes respeto”

“Enough, Alexia.” You interrupted. Yes, she had somewhat of a right to be angry at you, but calling you immature? Saying you had no respect? “I play my style of play. If the club didn’t like it, they wouldn’t have renewed my contract or signed me in the first place. If Jona has a problem with it, he would either speak to me or not play me. But they haven’t. I have renewed with Barca and Jona hasn’t even mentioned it in our one-to-ones. You are the only one who’s up my arse about this. And you’ve been pestering Lucy, too. Newsflash, she’s not my keeper, Alexia, and I am not a child; she’s my girlfriend.” You could see she was trying to interrupt you again, but you pushed through. “If you had maybe spoken to me in a way that suggested you valued me as a player and a person rather than lecturing me every chance you get, we could be in a different situation right now. But no, you have insulted me and the way I play my football, and now you have made me even more pissed off than I already was. So please, leave me alone at the moment.” You were seething. You hadn’t meant to explode at her like you did, but she had hurt your feelings one too many times about a bloody yellow card. You looked around the changing room, seeing the shocked expressions on people’s faces. No one spoke to their captain like that. You didn’t dare glance at Lucy, too afraid of what you might see. You would have seen the proud expression gracing her face if you had. She had been waiting for you to detonate at Alexia; she could see it in the way you grit your teeth during every lecture, the way you took longer showers after training to destress every time Alexia had called you away to talk about your behaviour, the way you were baking more and more as a method to try to quell your anger.

You pushed your way past, banging the door heavily as you stormed back out of the tunnel. You knew the Emirates well, so there were no chances of you getting lost. A few doors down, there was a seldom-used bathroom you could hide in, but you could still hear the chatter that told you the team was in the tunnel, ready to start the second half.

The changing room was silent. You could hear a mouse sneeze if you listened carefully enough.

“Bien entonces,” it was Mapi who spoke – breaking the tension-filled silence.

“Quién se cree que ella es? Todo lo que he estado tratando de hacer es ayudarla a limpiar su juego.” Alexia was incredulous. She believed you needed to clean up your act if you were going to go far at Barca. She didn’t consider the fact that you had numerous accolades to your name, coming second in the Ballon d’Or for the past 3 years and earning yourself a Sports Personality of the Year twice.

“No, Alexia. You are in the wrong.” Lucy snapped. She couldn’t allow this to go on any longer. Yes, she wanted you to stop getting yellow cards, but not at the expense of your style of play. She wanted the cards to stop being the only thing commentators spoke about when your name was mentioned. She wanted the world to see you as she did. “I know you meant well, but you basically asked her to stop playing in the way that makes her so unique. Imagine if someone did that to you, you’d be pretty pissed off too.” Alexia frowned. That wasn’t what she had meant – not at all. She wanted you to stop getting the yellow cards because she viewed something to be feared, not something that was just a part of playing football.

“Y ahora te has ido y la has hecho aún más enojada,” Patri laughed humourlessly. “No se sorprendan si hoy vemos un rojo, chicas,” she added as the team made their way back to the pitch.

You slipped silently out of the bathroom, joining the rest of the team as if you were just the last one to leave the changing room.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Lucy said, extending her hand to you as she lingered just out of sight of the cameras.

“Hey, gorgeous.” You squeezed her hand, letting her know you were ok.

“Please, try not to get a red,” she joked.

“If McCabe behaves, so will I,” you said seriously. She smirked at you – just the sort of thing she was expecting from you.

McCabe did not behave. It was remarkable how calm you had been, considering how riled you were during the half-time break. You had spent a lot of this second half on the floor, being a victim of harsh tackles from McCabe herself and a particular Aussie. You could see your English teammates wincing every time you went down. But you always gave as good as you got, leaving unforgiving shoves and exacting tackles just on the right side of nasty.

 It was in the 55th minute when the second incident occurred. You were genuinely going for the ball. You both jumped up for a header – you might have jumped more sideways than up, but that was neither here nor there. The slight knock you gave her made her lose her balance, landing hard on her hands and knees rather than her feet. It didn’t help that you landed perfectly upright, either. You knew how much running into you could hurt – particularly if you braced yourself (which you had been); she had been jogging backwards, unaware of your presence behind her.

“Oh, my god. I am so sorry. Are you ok?” You were genuine this time; both your national and club teammates could see it. This time, Leah was the first one to you, pulling you away by your shoulder.

“What the fuck, Y/N?” She asked, shocked by your display of aggression.

“I’m sorry, Lee. That was a complete accident.” You looked down at McCabe rolling around on the floor, gripping at her ankle. She just sighed in response. Lucy was the first of your Barca friends to reach you.

“I’m sorry,” you said dejectedly.

“I know you are, lovely” Lucy squeezed your elbow gently. “But you know you’re going to get a card, right?”

“Yeh, I know.” You turned to face the ref, shocked to see Alexia pleading with her and arguing for you. You were unsurprised when her protests were waved away, and you were presented with the yellow and red squares before being shown that you had to leave the pitch. You took it graciously and headed off the pitch.

You were escorted to the changing room by an official but were left to your own devices. You showered quickly before changing into your clothes, grateful you had packed some ‘street clothes’ – just jeans and one of Lucy’s hoodies. As you heard the Emirates erupt with cheers, the idea was planted in your head. This was a Champions League semi-final, no way in hell were you missing that. So, you slipped your accreditation around your neck and left the changing room. The crowd were still celebrating the Arsenal goal as you emerged from the tunnel. You saw Jonas spot you, his eyes widening as he gestured to the Fourth Official. You nodded once and waved at Jona and the other Barca coaches before hopping over the barricade. You spotted a woman with a young girl sitting on her lap with a free seat next to her.

“Do you mind?” You asked as you gestured to the seat. The woman shook her head and laughed a little as you made yourself comfortable next to her. The little girl was staring at you wide-eyed. She was wearing a little Barca jersey with her hair in two plaits, looking the epitome of cute.

“Hi, I’m Y/N.” You said, extending your hand to her. “What’s your name?” After a second of cajoling from her mother, she piped up.

“Lucie. But with an -ie not a -y.”

“Well, Lucie with an -ie not a -y, that is a very good name.” You smiled and turned back to the pitch, watching the game resume. You could tell the cameras were on you; you could see Ingrid shaking her head from the bench every time your face was displayed on the big screen.

The rest of the match was uneventful. Barca scored another two goals, bringing the final score to 5 – 1.

“So, Lucie with an -ie. Whose number’s on the back?” You nodded to her shirt.

“Lucy Bronze,” she cheered. “She’s my favourite. And we have the same name, but we spell it differently.” Lucie said with all the seriousness of a 6-year-old with something essential to tell you.

“Can I let you into a secret?” You leant down to whisper to her conspiratorially. She nodded enthusiastically. “She’s my favourite too.” Lucie looked up wide-eyed at you. “Do you want me to try and get you her shirt?” You asked. Her eyes grew even wider; you thought her head might pop off with how aggressively she was nodding. “Ok, wait here, ok. I’ll be right back.” You smiled as you hopped the barrier again, making your way onto the pitch and headed straight to Lucy. She was standing with Keira and Leah, clearly having a bit of a catch-up.

“Hello, trouble.” Keira teased as you appeared.

“Yeh, yeh.” You lightly shoved her head. “Can I have your shirt, my love?” You asked Lucy. She cocked her head at your request. “I think I might have found your biggest fan.” You smiled as you started to take your jumper off, grateful that you had put a shirt on underneath for once. Lucy laughed as she whipped off her top, thanking you as she slipped the hoodie on to keep her covered. You hugged Leah quickly before dragging Lucy away to find your new friend.

“Alexia wants to talk to you, pretty girl,” Lucy said as you pulled her back to the stands.

“Later,” you sighed, not really in the mood for anything Alexia had to say. “I want you to meet my new friend first.” You looked at her with a wide smile as you came to a stop in front of Lucie.

“Lucie with an -ie meet Lucy with a -y. Luce, this is my new friend, Lucie.” You did the unnecessary introductions.

“Hi,” Lucy grinned at the young girl. You handed the jersey off to her mum as you left them alone for a little bit, moving to interact with some of the other fans.

A little while later, familiar strong arms wrapped around your waist, distracting you from your conversation with Alessia and Lotte.

“Nosotras tenemos que ir, lovely” Lucy whispered, kissing your shoulder lightly.

“We get it; you speak Spanish.” Alessia teased, waving goodbye to you as you sent them both a kiss.

“Vamos,” you joked as you leant back into Lucy. Although your position made it a little awkward to walk, you were too comfortable to move.

“What reward do you want this week?” Lucy whispered in your ear as you entered the tunnel.

“Reward? But I got a card, two, in fact. Or did you miss the part where McCabe ran into me twice, and you went down a player?” You looked at her, confused.

“I know, but you were so, so sexy.” She squeezed you not-too-gently. “I’ve got to treat my pretty girl when she looks that good,” she teased, but you knew by the glint in her eyes that she was deadly serious. You hummed.

“I think I might have some ideas,” you mused as you leant back on her subtly, letting your head drop back on her shoulder.

“Good,” she whispered back, littering a series of kisses to your cheek. “My short, sexy defender.” She laughed.

“Oi,” you slapped her arm. “Enough with the short jokes.”

“Never, you get so riled up by them.” She laughed at your angry expression. “And you know exactly what that does to me,” she said lowly in your ear – a lasting promise of later left unspoken in the air.

I hope you enjoyed it <3<3<3<3